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nonclassyparty · 9 months

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man with the plan (j.wy) - prologue

Summary: "Don't forget Pretty, I'm serving life plus one. So if I get busted for attempted escape, I'll throw in a homicide in there as well with no problem, that’s like a parking ticket to me." When your brother ends up in jail for a murder he didn't commit, the only thing left for you to do is to find a way to break him out. But after a perfect plan is set in motion, you don't expect a romantic variable to get added into the equation.

Pairing: jung wooyoung x fem. reader, jeong yunho x reader (but if u squint)

Status: coming soon (i hope)

Taglist: if you'd like to be added just reply below! c:

A/N: this is very obviously inspired by prison break ( my favorite show on planet earth), y/n will be very much inspired by michael scofield and i (unfortunately) don't own nor the show nor michael scofield. anyways! wooyoung is the love interest (surprise surprise) but the rest of atz will be present. please let me know if this is something you'd be interested in reading. if i do continue writing it, i plan for it to be written in 3 parts each consisting of 7-9 chapters!

MY MAIN MASTERLIST! // AO3

(prologue)

The buzzing of the tattoo machine is the only thing interrupting the silence in the dark parlor as the needle continues prodding at the skin of your shoulder and makes you grip the chair you sit on.

It used to hurt. A lot. Now, the pain is reduced to a light sting as you suppose you've gotten used to it.

"Almost done. Just finishing touches now." Chao comforts from behind you, soft breath hitting your exposed skin as he wipes away the excess ink.

You only nod in response, never having much to say to him despite his best efforts.

"You know, you've been coming here for almost a year and barely said a word." He comments while he works. "Asking me to work after closing hours and everything, I would've expected to at least get to know you better."

You try to hold back an eye roll as you give him a bland look over your shoulder, eyes coasting over the tattoo of a dragon curling around his neck and disappearing behind his long hair.

"That's why I'm paying you almost double." Is your only response as you play with the sleeves of the button up pooling around your waist.

"So, you're telling me that after tonight, you'll just walk out of here and I'll never see you again?"

"Something like that." You murmur and he huffs behind you.

"I've never done a tattoo this big on a girl before." He continues, always keen on talking even if all he gets is quiet 'mhm's and 'ah's in response. "For a first-timer especially. Usually, it's a name of a boyfriend which they later regret or something artsy but shallow, like a butterfly or some shit."

A smirk tugs on your lips as you peek at him over your shoulder again, "Are you really trying to tell me I'm not like the other girls, right now?"

He grins and it makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. Chao was fairly attractive, handsome in that bad boy-ish type of way where you know he'll definitely put you through hell but you'd have fun with it.

It's unfortunate that you're not in the mood to think about anything like that anymore. You haven't been for the last eighteen months.

"You never even told me what the tatt was all about..." He trails off, bandaging your shoulder up and your eyes fall to the tiles below your feet. "I mean, look at all of this..."

You presume he means the tattoo starting from your lower back, curling around the shoulders and cascading down your arms, stopping at the wrists. The numbers laid over thin lines, intertwined with thicker ones, curling around letters like a snake and creating a piece that no-one can see.

No-one except for you.

It's about my brother's future, you think to yourself.

"It doesn't mean anything. Just thought it would look cool." You chuckle, sliding your hands through the sleeves of your shirt and working on buttoning yourself up, covering the tattoo from the artist who worked relentlessly to stitch it onto you. You turn to him, pulling your hair out from the collar of the shirt as you smile at him. "I guess I'm like all the other girls as well."

Chao stares at you in wonder before his eyes fall to the wad of cash you pull out from your bag and hold out to him.

"Thank you, Chao. You've done a great job."

He sighs again, "It would've been done a lot sooner if it wasn't for your constant nitpicking."

You grin at him while pulling on your jacket and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "What can I say, I'm a perfectionist."

Giving him one last wave, you disappear from the shop.

18 months ago;

The collar of your white button up feels like it's strangling you as the buzzer echoes through the stuffy room and two guards appear through the door, dragging him in and sitting him down in the chair opposite of you, making sure to cuff him to the table.

There is only glass separating you but it feels like he's miles away.

Jongho's eyes are dull when they meet your own, dark circles hanging below them and hair messy.

"Y/N..." You have to look the other way, to stop the ugly tears from falling as your heart constricts at his familiar voice.

You haven't seen him since the trial. Didn't have the courage to step anywhere near these walls.

A facility with maximum level security for the biggest scum that roamed your country and wretched chaos on innocent people, inflicted pain and sorrow, terrorized society in the worst of ways.

And now, your brother was one of them.

The person who raised you, took care of you when no-one else did, was serving a life sentence.

Finally gathering the guts to look at him, you clench your jaw and try to ignore the desperation in his eyes. The dark blue uniform engulfs him and is a deep contrast to his usually tanner skin that turned almost ghastly pale just after a week of being in there.

"Did you do it?" You whisper and Jongho looks at you like you just slapped him. His eyes water and he looks absolutely devastated but you have to know. You have to know.

"No." He answers firmly, voice cracking as he blinks away the tears, he never was much of a crier. "No. Of course not."

Of course not.

He says that like it's unimaginable for him.

It was unimaginable to you as well up until three weeks ago.

With a record of petty crimes and a bad temperament, he had a knack for getting himself into trouble that he always managed to get himself out of one way or another. Except this time.

You always knew Jongho was in some deep shit, hanging around people that were bad for him and barely being able to hold onto an honest job for more than a month.

But that's all he was. A petty criminal with offences that never went past bar fights and getting into discourses with police officers who stop his car for going over the speed limit, not a murderer.

You can't even stop the tear that slides down your cheek as you huff at an attempt to laugh, it comes out choked.

"What about all the evidence then?" Your voice is hoarse as you speak in a hushed tone, recalling the first time you've seen the tape in court.

"I...Y/N, I don't know...All I can think is that someone set me up because I didn't do it, I swear." Jongho stresses, palms laid against the table, desperate for you to believe him. "He was my boss, for fuck's sake."

"He fired you a month before that." You harshly interrupt and he sighs, eyes falling shut as you continue to sniffle with a crumbled face, "What were you doing at his house?"

"Someone told me to go there- I-I thought he was going to give me my job back..." Jongho stutters, his own tears threatening to fall as he presses his lips together. For his lack of excuse or proper explanation, he really does look sincere.

You both sit in silence for a moment, you can almost feel the time you have with him trickling away.

That's all you'll have with him from now on. One hour per week, for the rest of his life and that's only if your time here isn't shared with Yeosang, if he ever decides to muster up the balls to see him.

You're not sure if you're willing to settle for that.

"Swear to me." You finally say, staring at him dead in the eye as his brows furrow, "Swear to me that you didn't do it."

Without a beat, "I didn't do it." Jongho responds, not breaking eye contact. You keep your gaze planted on his face, observing it for any signs of dishonesty. But you fail to find any. "Y/N, I didn't do it. I swear to you."

You stare at him for a second longer before your gaze flies behind him, there are three guards in total in the room. One behind the counter, two by the door.

Your gaze returns to Jongho, who doesn't move a muscle, still looking at you in desperation and what you can only recognize as fear.

He looks a lot younger now, like the Jongho who used to shake every time you two would be on your way to a new foster family. The Jongho that you know was scared to the bones but never wanted to show it for your sake.

You can't lose your older brother.

"Okay."

You throw the keys into the bowl near the front door and with a tired sigh kick off your shoes before walking further into your apartment.

The shoulder Chao just worked on ached like hell but the pain almost felt good, served as a reminder that you can't afford to be tired right now.

So without further ado, you walk into your office that when you first moved into the luxurious skyscraper overlooking Han River, was used for working from home or more like, working after you came home from work.

Now, the office served a different purpose completely.

Your eyes sweep over the filled out wall and window, both covered in an array of information and yellow post-it notes; a product of your relentless work and research over the last eighteen months.

Your hands twitch, you don't want to get rid of it. What if you missed something? What if you made a mistake somewhere? What if something managed to sneak away unnoticed by you?

But having it here, in plain sight where anyone who walks in and is nosy enough to look can see it, can end up being more dangerous than something unforeseen happening. Heck, you already had Mrs. Kim try to enter despite it being locked a couple of times.

You needed to lose every trace or connection to that prison and the people inside of it, with the exception of Jongho, before Monday.

Besides, what would be the point of Chao and the reason you almost paid him thirty grand? If you don't get rid of this stuff, it would almost be as if you flushed the money down the toilet.

So you grab an empty garbage bag and with a shaky sigh, start ripping down paper after paper, photo after photo and filling out the plastic bag. Article after article flashes before your eyes as the sound of papers ripping fills the room.

'Chungju Detention Center: Level 1', 'Choi Jongho Final Appeal Denied', 'Choi Jongho Convicted To Serve Life For Murder of-', 'Body of Son Changkyu found in his home-', 'Governor's Son Wins Humanitarian Award', 'Life sentence for Kim Hongjoong', 'Park Ha-ru Myth Still Alive Despite Conviction', 'Killer of VP Brother to Serve a Life Sentence at Chungju-'

Once the window is clean and the wall is bare again, only tiny holes from the tacks left as evidence that anything was ever there in the first place and with three bags worth of garbage, you stuff it into the fireplace and throw a match in right after.

You watch the key to your brother's future turn to ashes.

The buzzer makes you look up from your hands and you smile a little bit once your eyes meet Jongho's through the glass but it quickly turns to a frown once you notice the enormous bruise running down his jaw.

"Hey." He greets with a stiff smile as the guard cuffs him to the table and turns to walk away.

"What happened?" You jump to question him immediately and Jongho rolls his eyes with a low groan.

"It's not a big deal."

"They beat you up."

"Hey, maybe I was the one who was beating someone else up." He defends trying to lighten up the situation but the frown on your face doesn't budge and he sighs. "I got in a fight with one of the guys in the yard, it's not a big deal, Y/N, shit like that happens here-"

"It can't happen, Jongho. From now on, it can't happen." Now it's Jongho's turn to frown and you sigh, "You'll get thrown into solitary if it gets any worse and then I won't be able to-"

You stop yourself, eyes fleeting to the guard behind the counter. There are no wires surrounding the visitors area due to the building being so old, you would know, you made sure it was the first thing to check once you got your hands on the blueprints. But you can never be too careful.

"I won't be able to see you if you're in solitary." You say, voice gentle and Jongho's eyes soften before he gives you a nod in response.

"Alright, no fighting back, I'll just let them beat me to a pulp then I guess." He shrugs and you roll your eyes. Typical.

"You know that's not what I meant but that smartass attitude is the thing that might be getting you in trouble in the yard in the first place." You quickly retort with a glare as he huffs.

"How's your cellmate?" You ask and Jongho, as he always does when you ask about his roommate, looks confused but today, it's something else as well.

"Oh, I'm actually getting a new one." You freeze at that, blinking rapidly a couple of times.

"What do you mean?"

"They're moving Jisung to the psych ward after he tried to off himself with his bedsheet." Jongho explains like he's talking about the weather and you gape at him, wondering just what goes on in there on the daily if a man trying to kill himself isn't anything out of the ordinary.

But then again, you're not all that worried about Jisung's mental health either but more for the fact that he's gone and now somebody else will take his place.

You can already see a small tiny piece of your tattoo being considered useless now.

But you can't let that bring you down. It's just a small hitch, nothing else.

"Well, do you know who's coming to take his place?" You ask, ignoring the way Jongho eyes you.

He shakes his head in response and your leg starts bouncing in anxiety.

"No, they're moving him in after lunch."

After lunch.

So, you won't know until...

One of the biggest pieces of the plan and it will be unsure until the said plan is set in motion.

Great.

You clear your throat, leaning closer and on instinct, Jongho copies you, "Listen, I won't be able to visit for awhile."

"Why?" Jongho questions, eyes boring into yours and you let out a small breath. "Are you going somewhere?"

"No." Your eyes stray to the two guards by the door, just a couple of feet away. "I just won't be able to visit you for awhile. Maybe. I'm working on preventing that but just in case I don't come next Friday, I wanted you to know."

Jongho eyes you suspiciously before he leans closer again, nose almost touching the glass. "Y/N, what the hell are you doing?"

You bite back a smile, amused that he just knows you, and that only makes Jongho more frustrated.

"Y/N, did you get yourself in some shit?" He hisses, looking over his shoulder to check if the guard is still by the door, "If you did, call Yeosang. He'll know what to do."

You scoff, "I'm not you to get myself in some shit. Relax, I got a new job."

"New job?" Jongho goes back to being confused, "Why can't you visit then? It's somewhere far away?"

You stare at him before nodding, "Something like that," You whisper.

"Oh, okay. I mean of course, your job is important." He nods and you feel your heart ache inside your chest at his slightly crestfallen face that he tries to cover up. "You're a structural engineer after all, they probably need you to design another fancy building, huh?"

You wish to tell him that you'll be there. You'll be closer to him than he thinks but you can't do any of that until you're properly inside those walls.

"Yeah." You nod, blinking away the tears. You clear your throat, glancing at the clock behind his head. "Hey, Jongho, remember how we used to talk to each other?"

He cocks his head in confusion.

"When we were kids, how we used to talk to each other. For example, when Soyoung was around and we didn't want her to understand."

Jongho's eyes gain some recognition but the confusion still remains on his face. Hesitantly, he bobs his head, "Yeah."

"Good," You nod, mouth perking up, "You might want to brush up on that."

Jongho opens his mouth to say something more but you're already waving over the guard.

You lean closer to him one more time, staring at his confused face through the glass to whisper;

"See you on Monday."

#wooyoung x reader #ateez imagine #ateez angst #ateez x reader #wooyoung imagine #wooyoung scenarios

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rosyfingereddawnn · 2 years

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Part 2 on the Ghost recs please!

ohhhhhh bestie you do not know what you’re getting yourself into !!! really i do love you for enabling me anon i owe you my life <3 here we goooooo. as always it’ll be under the cut :)

oh and here’s part 1 !!!!

secular haze - fucked up carnival-core. i really don’t know how to explain this one except it’s really good??? instrumentals are so very good, and the vocals really send me into oblivion sometimes i think !!! look in a way it’s very hypnotic it’s hard to explain but secular haze doesn’t get enough appreciation. also whisper singing thank you papito !!!!

dance macabre - look. LOOK. insane 80s vibes it’s truly so fun. tbh one of the first songs i listened to when i got into them and it’s just such a banger through and through. i would like to be bewitched in the moonlight thank you <3 no but literally i have no words it’s so amazing the lyrics make me so feral. good instrumentals as always <3 OH AND THE BACKING VOCALS ARE SO PRETTY UGH 😌 because Yeah. Cataclysm, Armageddon.

pro memoria - priddy intro 🥹 also it’s a very beautiful song but look. the lyrics are like. good but also kinda funny to me??? like it’s pretty but also the chorus comes and i am stifling laughter because it’s just. wow. you’ll see. but yeah layered vocals guitars piano/organ drums keys. SO good. a lil bit of satanism to spice things up <3

absolution - guitar, drum and bass fuck this entire song. so very good so very spooky so very HOT. a common theme in like all of their songs but yeah like. literally it’s spooky and then you can’t help but Shake Ass. i mean you get papa growls too??? you get the chorus with amazing vocals???? sexy, genuinely good lyrics??? it goes hard the entire song. AND THEN THE BRIDGE COMES AND YOU ASCEND.

witch image - PRETTY VOICE PAPA <3 i kinda have no words for this one except so fucking catchy??? i mean every aspect of it is so fun and so memorable??? and the lyrics are. really something. wow. uhhhhhh yeah this one is kinda pro memoria-core for a Lil Bit, but it’s genuinely well-written and needed in our society at the same time???? if that makes sense??? but god HARMONIES AS ALWAYS. D R U M S O L O.

rats - AHHHHH RATS MY BELOVED. look this one is so so fun and the lyrics make me go bananas because like. based on the title you wouldn’t expect it to be Good i guess?? also once again all around good instrumentals?? also the rolling of the r on rrrrrats is my Entire sexuality thank you copia for my every right <3 god GORGEOUS layered vocals guitar licks sent from the heavens (hehe) OH WAIT THE FUCKING SOLOS AHHHHHH FUCK. WOWOWOWOWOW makes me batshit <3

majesty - if i could i would slurp the entirety of the intro through a silly straw it is So. Fucking. Good. Ough. THE GUITAR LICKS IN THIS SONG i am crunching and munching on them. sexy papa voice as usual tbh. once again just a lil bit of satanism for the sex appeal and all that !!!! some scrumptious organ !!!!! the chorus is so pleasing to listen to i don’t even know what to say it’s just so nice <3

jigolo har megiddo - mwah mwah mwah i love this song so much it’s so SEXY. also the “richly endowed” part um i want it tattooed onto me on every available inch of skin thank you. there’s just something about it. no but good bass. gooooood bass. good vocals as usual. ugh it’s just So catchy and the guitar solo is. mwah. ough. ALSO THERES LIKE A LIL WHISPER SING BACKGROUND VOCALS PART THAT GETS ME OH ITS SO GOOD.

kiss the go-goat - um. well. somehow it’s the ultimate daddy issues anthem and it’s also about Kissing Satan’s Bumhole. yeah i don’t know either papa nihil’s a lil weird :// but no this song. is such. a fucking BOP. satanism is um. at the forefront here. okay. BUT during this like. growl/speaking part the DRUMS. oh GOD. ohhhhh wow. w o w. good guitar solo As Usual and just like. sexy all around. “it ain’t always what it seems that glitter wasn’t gold as opposed to what they told you” i’m Screeching. also HI THE GROAN AND KISS AT THE END. nope. instead i will focus on the sexy lil flourish at the end after That.

if you have ghosts - emotional support ghong (ghost song). this one’s about loneliness!!!! and it hurts me personally!!!! violins at the beginning hello!!!! the lyrics seem like Weird at times but if you look into the meaning and what is actually being said it’s like Especially emotionally taxing !!!!! also just. “in the night i am real.” yeah it hurts meeeeeeeee <3 ough good guitarrrrr i am crunching and munching all the time. good BASS TOO THANK YOU. VOCALS OH. OH. this song hits so so hard always and it shouldn’t but it does. terzo singing this especially hits but that’s because of his voice AND for lore purposes that i won’t talk about ever

ritual - fuuuuuull of satanism. sorry mom sorry dad sorry everyone. it still fucks. nah but this is said to be ‘one of the most evil songs in history!!!’ and it’s literally sung by a dude who plays the kazoo. yeah. it’s sexy and tbh sorry to anyone who is especially christian/catholic but the lyrics give me giggles constantly <3 sexy guitar all the way through (SOLOS!) and some Growling from primo thank you <3 i don’t know how to explain it but the Pace of it is so fun and the chorus just builds and swells and it’s So Good.

missionary man - AGAIN SORRY TO ANY CHRISTIAN/CATHOLIC FOLKS BUT THIS IS THE ULTIMATE CATHOLIC DISS TRACK !!!!! you have a man dissing missionaries and catholicism while a soul/gospel singer Kills it in the background. lyrics are So. Funny. terzo has good flow honestly. also this is about catholicism but it’s also Blatantly about sex too <3 thank you. instrumentals are INSANE and so good, background vocals are so so so Scrumptious. don’t even get me started on terzo though HOO boy. sexcee!! literally the entire song is so bangin and So hilarious.

life eternal - papa lullaby part 2 🥺 ow ow ow owwwww oh it’s so good and so pretty 🥺🥺 i don’t know what it is about the lyrics here they’re just so gorgeous??? and there’s really something about like. forever being entwined anyways i’ll shut up. underrated bass. PIANO AND ORGAN. pretty layered vocals again 🥺 THE PART WHERE THE GUITAR COMES IN ?????? THE SWELLING AND ADDING-ON OF VOICES AND THEN THE TUNNEL QUALITY THEY GET WHEN THE GUITARS TAKE OVER. G O D. PRETTY PRETTY PRETTY 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 all of it is just SO transcendant and i’m trying not to cry while writing this because it’s genuinely so emotionally effective in every way.

square hammer - WOAHSJAKAJA HOO!!! square hammer sexyyyyyyyyyy. it’s starts off kinda spooky but this is ULTIMATE ass-shaking opportunities. Ugh drums get me Fucked up and the guitars and bass just meld together so well??? i Have seen this performed live (like. in a video because unfortunately they never fucking COME HERE) and it really is such an experience i would combust. anyways yeah it’s like. the Money Pink Floyd of ghost songs. the show-closer as of late and as it should be because holy Fuck guys. it’s insane. guitar solo mwah. sexy vocals <3

call me little sunshine - ough god. drums drums drums. i want to fuck the guitars in this song i am So serious about that. the lyrics are so interesting?? a lil bit of satanism as you may expect but it’s like. shifting the narrative here?? i will not go into it lest this turn into an essay BUT yeah it’s so intriguing. mmmmmmm vocals. deeeep papa voice. layered as usual but just. the chorus is truly so insane i think i levitate whenever i listen to this song. drum fills GOOD again. bridge MUNCH MUNCH CRUNCH.

twenties - okay. o k a y. this might be their hardest song and like. 90% sure it’s about war so take that as you Will. but it is So theatrical and So cathartic and it’s just. incredible???? i wasn’t a fan actually like. the first time i heard it but i Understand Now. BRASS INTRO INTO HARD GUITARS BASS AND DRUMS. ENSEMBLE VOCALS IN SOME PARTS. “i’m number one you’re number two you’ve got a lot of god’s work to do”??????? hi. growling papa is always Fucking sexy sorry mom sorry dad <3 like it’s kaisarion’s more fucked up brother because it truly is so energy-inducing except this one makes me want to commit every crime against authority that i can. also this guitar solo is so chaotic and soooo well-played it fits incredibly into the song i think. like this one’s not for everyone but it’s for me thank you tobias <3

ghuleh/zombie queen - i think ??? this is the longest song they have?? at like 7 minutes ???? BUT you get two! songs! in! one! its all about some fucked up zombie lady so lots of death imagery which is really interesting in the way they portray it??? whisper singing <333 it’s so calm and pretty at the start and the vocals match that. soft guitar riff that grows and gets me absolutely fucked up. halfway through there’s like. what sounds like a harmonica moment??? it’s a bit western film-core and then you SHAKE ASS SO FUCKING HARD. HELLO. THE ENTIRE SONG IS JUST SO UNDERRATED AND I NEED TO HEAR PEOPLE TALK ABOUT IT MORE. guitar remains insane??? there’s the western elements throughout and it’s just a really interesting mix of Vibes honestly???? everyone go listen to zombie queen NOW. N O W.

hunter’s moon - ough. sexy little guitar riff to start us off. i don’t know if this was actually written for halloween kills but it Was featured in it and idk it’s. just so good. once again ghost is incredible with subverting expectations??? and genres???? and their SONGS????? because it is so pop-influenced in certain spots but then it’s like. oh yeah that’s why it was in a horror movie. there’s some Sick ass chanting right before the guitar solos and then LAYERED VOCALS PAPA IS K I L L I N G IT. OH GOD. and then fades are put in it’s truly just a masterclass in spooky music i don’t know how else to put it ????????? also there’s. lore. attached to this song in my mind and it hurts a Lot so yeah i’m a hunter’s moon stan first and a human being second.

once again there Should be financial compensation for anyone who reads to this point Sorry For This i was enabled. thank you so much to the absolutely lovely anon for the ask <3333

i hope i have converted some folks into ghesties <333333

#asks #anon :)#ghost

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skiller0dani · 3 years

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Old Prison Blues | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut | dom!spencer x bau!reader requests info w.c | 7.2k summary | when your husband Spencer gets released from Prison, he's much different then you remember.

I have it so bad for this man, enjoy! Also guys this piece made butterflies squirm in my belly lmao this one is so HOT it made me blush. Guys, it made me B L U S H. I need to go dunk myself in holy water to atone for this SIN. (just kidding lmao I'm agnostic).

you can see his bulge in this gif and I can't stop admiring looking at it.

When you were in college you'd been an undergraduate in Criminal Justice, so you were familiar with the effects Prison has on the psyche. In other words, you knew Spencer would come back different. No person could pass through Prison unscathed and frankly you'd be more concerned if he came back and nothing had changed at all. At home, he seemed to be relatively okay, and those 6 mandatory weeks of break had allowed him the rest he deserved. Nothing exciting had happened during those weeks, the only thing you did was curl up on the couch next to him and watch movies. You'd made up for all those weeks in Prison during the evenings when you would cling to him and cry out his name in ecstasy.

Spencer really did seem to be fine, until you returned to work. That's when you started to see all the ways Prison had hardened him.

At first, it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. If you were someone who knew Spencer well then you knew that he wasn't a man who was confident in his looks. When you and Spencer first got married he was insecure, and would be discouraged when you hung out with other guys. You wouldn't say he was jealous because jealously in itself requires a certain amount of anger. But when Spencer saw you around other men he wasn't angry, he was sad. Absolutely convinced you were going to leave him any second, despite you telling him you married him because you love him. Deep down, he always thought somebody would steal you from him even though you consistently reminded him how much you love him. That's just the kind of guy Spencer is.

Or, was.

The darkness that brews in Prison, the violent hatred, the anger seems to have followed Spencer to freedom. It has made a home in his chest, and while you're not worried about Spencer flying off the deep end and shooting an innocent, the anger reveals itself in much more subtle ways. It's in the way he clenches his jaw when he can't figure something out, or the blanching of his knuckles as he grips the steering wheel with a crushing force, it's the agitation in his eyes when he watches Alvez's knuckles brush against your lower back for the 3rd time since you two had arrived at the office this morning. The anger has adapted to civilian life like Spencer has, it's learned. It's subtle. Unfortunately you know Spencer almost better then he knows himself, you can tell when something is bothering him.

You slide your hands over his shoulders, and much to your surprise you feel him tense.

"You okay?" You know it's a stupid question, but you have to ask.

"Yeah, fine." Spencer's tone is clipped, shoulders rigid, back straight. Something is definitely bothering him. You squeeze his shoulders and begin to work at the tightened muscles, slowly easing them to relax. The tension flows out of him as he relaxes back in his desk chair, the frustration ebbing away slightly when his eyes catch your wedding ring. The object that binds you to him.

"Don't shut me out." You whisper, a soft plea in your voice. Spencer's heart wretches when he hears the fear in your tone, and one of his hands comes up to catch yours. He presses a chaste kiss to one of your knuckles before swiveling around to face you. You always find a way to soothe the violent, raging beast inside of him. Spencer's hands find your hips as he turns his gaze up to look at you.

"You're right I'm sorry. Just tense today." He says softly, and while there is a little lie to his words, his statement remains mostly the truth. He just leaves out the part where he pictures enacting varying forms of violence on Luke Alvez. The man who keeps unnecessarily touching his wife. You lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, your head snapping up when Garcia calls from the conference room.

"Got a case folks, and it's an ugly one." Her nose scrunches up into a frown before she turns into the room. You pull away from Spencer, yanking him to his feet by his hand. Luke sends you a playful wink as he trots up the stairs, and while you don't necessarily react to it, it still puts Spencer on edge. Deep down Spencer always knew you were way out of his league, but that never became clearer then when you came to visit him in Prison.

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You were trembling as you lowered yourself into the chair. Dried tears were on your cheeks, and you haven't even seen Spencer yet. The last time you saw him was a few weeks prior after he first got back from Mexico. Seeing his wrists bound in those metal handcuffs had broken your heart in a way you never anticipated. You wrung your hands together, luckily when Penelope had made the visitation Chart she scheduled you as the first person to come see him. The plastic chair was uncomfortable, but what was worse was the plastic guard separating you from Spencer. The clock ticked loudly, it was clearly mocking you. Reminding you of the seconds you were losing with Spencer, reminding you of all the seconds he was spending in Prison.

When you hear the buzzer scream loudly, you nearly come out of your seat you're so excited to see him. You and Spencer got married back in 2005, and you've never been separated from him for longer then a week. It's been over a month now, and each day he's not with you leaves a bigger hole in your chest. You watch him follow the other prisoners out, and the handcuffs around his wrists breaks your heart. His eyes light up the second he sees you, he nearly shoves the other guy over to get to you faster. There are tears in your eyes as Spencer's wrists are released from the cuffs from the guard standing nearby.

"Hey baby." Spencer says softly as he takes his seat across from you. All you want is to reach across the stupid barrier and touch him, hold his hand, anything. But you know the guards will punish him if he does, but being this close to him without being able to hold him is absolutely killing you. You try to blink the tears out of your eyes so that Spencer won't see, but it's all too much. Seeing him in a jumpsuit, with cuff bruises around his wrists, having to sleep in the same building as murderers. The first tear falls and you immediately look away from him.

"Please don't cry." Spencer begs softly. "I'm okay, really."

You wipe your tears before you look back up at him, digging around in your bag for a gift from Henry. You smile when you see the happiness cross onto his face as you pull the piece of paper out.

"Henry drew this for you, it's from when you guys went to the park." You hold it up for him to see and you try to fight another onslaught of tears when you see his eyes misting.

"You know, when I get out of here we should have one." Spencer says it so casually, you almost miss it. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you carefully lower the drawing.

"You want to try for a baby?" You can't hide the smile, and you see Spencer's eyes shine for the first time since he's been in here.

"Yeah, I want to have a baby with you." You and Spencer had a brief conversation about kids a few years ago, and you knew Spencer wasn't ready for it back then. His Father ran out on him and Diana when Spencer was just a kid, it made Spencer insecure about the type of Father he would end up being. In Spencer's mind, a fatherless man would never make a good Father. But it seems he's changed his mind. You had no issues agreeing to wait before you had kids until he was ready, you always knew Spencer would be a fantastic Father.

Suddenly from Spencer's right you hear a low wolf whistle. The tenderness that was on Spencer's face is instantly wiped away. His expression tenses, his jaw clenching as he turns his gaze to a large burly looking man covered in tattoos. The man sitting across from him, the one who was visiting, looked similar. Both of the biker looking men were eyeing me hungrily, it made my skin crawl.

"Something I can help you with?" Spencer asks, his voice tense. The tension in the room grows tenfold, and you fight the instinct to try and scoot closer to Spencer. The Biker looks Spencer in the eyes, a taunting smile on his face.

"That your sister?"

"Wife." Spencer snaps instantly.

"Your wife?" The Biker says incrediously, Spencer raises a brow, daring him to continue. "There's no way a woman with an ass that tight would marry a man as scrawny as you."

You expected to see insecurity flash in Spencer's eyes, instead all you saw was rage. Unbridled, violent rage.

"Choose your next words carefully." Spencer's voice was low, and as sharp as the edge of a blade. You almost didn't recognize him. The Biker leaned forward, fueled only by the knowledge that he was getting under Spencer's skin.

"She as tight as she looks? If I wasn't locked up, I'd fuck her so good she wouldn't even remember what your little pecker feels like."

Spencer's jaw clenches, and his fists curl tightly. The Biker is about 2 words away from a broken nose.

"Baby just let it go." You plead, and normally you don't really use pet names in public but right now you needed to show him that you're his.

"I'll tell you what Klein, I'll fuck her for you and tell you how it felt." The other man says, the man visiting. Upon hearing the words come out of his mouth, Spencer is shoving up from the chair but almost instantly a guard is tightly gripping Spencer's shirt and shoving him back into the chair. Spencer is fuming, and there's nothing you can do to calm him down.

"If you so much as lay a finger on her, your friend here will be dead before you can have another visit." Spencer hisses, and the two large men chuckle.

Spencer instantly took you off the visitors list, and while that felt like a blow to your heart you understood why. You didn't want to stress him out by visiting him.

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So, yeah, Spencer knew you were out of his league and when Luke pulled your chair out for you at the table before he had the chance to, it made his blood boil. Why is Luke trying to take care of you? Doesn't he know that Spencer has been released from Prison? You don't need anybody else to take care of you, your husband is more than capable of doing it himself. When Spencer sat down in the chair next to you, he rested one hand on your thigh. You're only slightly surprised, normally Spencer isn't this 'handsy' in public, but in recent weeks he's been more assertive around other men.

"The body of 23 year old Cassandra Richardson was found 2 weeks ago in Lincoln, Nebraska. Her body was mutilated and showed signs of sexual assault. Yesterday another body, 20 year old Francesca Williams was found around the same warehouse district with similar wounds to the first victim." Penelope rushes the words out, almost as though saying them pains her. Various images show on the screen of the two victims, both bloodied and battered.

"Other than similar injuries, what makes the local police think it's the same unsub?" Luke asks, his eyes flickering towards you for the briefest second. While Spencer was locked away, Luke became a shoulder to cry on. Normally when you were upset and Spencer wasn't around, you'd talk to Derek. But since he's been gone you've felt more isolated then you normally do. Luke had found you crying one morning before you had taken off, and ever since he's had an "older brother" protection over you.

"A tattoo on both of the victims thighs, the words 'temerata virginem' which is Latin for 'desecrated virgin'." With the click of a button on her remote, Penelope pulls up a photo of the tattoos. The lines are shaky, although they stay mostly straight.

"It almost looks professional, except the lines aren't perfectly straight. A professional would make the line work perfect." JJ says, examining the photo closer in the folder each of you received. You turn your gaze to Spencer when you feel his hand leave your thigh to examine the photo closer. You could practically see the gears turning in that beautiful mind of his.

"It's possible an outside source is causing a tremble in the unsubs hands, if he is a professional tattoo artist." Spencer mumbles, almost to himself. Sometimes when he's in deep concentration, he nearly forgets other people are in the room with him.

"Could be drugs-" Luke starts but is sharply cut off.

"Actually it's more likely to be alcohol, withdraw from other drugs would be too severe to operate the tattoo machine." Spencer snaps, causing a few heads to turn and look at him. Maybe under other circumstances someone would say something to him, but since Spencer got released from Prison only a few weeks ago, nobody says anything. Luke's eyebrows furrow together as he shoots Spencer a confused look, one Spencer chooses to ignore as his hand returns to your thigh. Spencer knows he's acting like a jerk but he can't help it, Luke needs to know who you belong to. Spencer had everything taken from him in Prison, he won't let anyone take you from him too.

"We've been personally asked by the local police to assist, so wheels up in 30." Emily concludes, shooting one more look at Spencer before everybody rises.

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The tension on the jet is thick, you're absolutely sure everybody can feel it. Hardly anyone has interacted with Spencer, except to ask him a question about the case. You sit back against the couch, Luke sitting in one of the chairs at the table, and Spencer sitting on the arm of the chair next to you. In your hand was a nearly empty cup of coffee, and just as you move to refill, Luke rises with his own empty cup.

"Need a refill?" He asks, offering you a friendly smile.

"Yeah actually-"

"I got it." Spencer says abruptly, standing from where he was sitting. His eyes meet Luke's, silently challenging him. You try to be understanding, but you can't help but feel annoyed at Spencer. If he was acting like this to some random guy then that's one thing, but this is Luke. He's your friend, he's Spencer's friend. Luke, and the rest of the team, put everything on the line to free Spencer from Prison.

"It's cool man, I can do it-" Luke offers again, but Spencer isn't having it.

"I said I got it." Spencer reaches his hand out for your mug, which you instantly give to him. His eyes don't leave Luke's until he turns around and heads to the back of the jet to refill your coffee. Luke pauses for a few seconds, his eyes meeting yours and mirroring the same look of concern before he heads for the coffee pot as well. Luke isn't even upset by how Spencer is treating him, he- like everyone else, is worried about Spencer's psyche.

"What is going on with Spencer?" JJ whispers once she's sure Spencer is out of earshot. You shrug, your worried eyes landing on your husband. His posture is tense, almost defensive.

"Well can you blame him? In Prison, everything that's yours can and will be stolen by the other male inmates. Now that he's free, Spencer is being protective of his wife, someone that is his and can be taken by other men." Rossi says, always naturally a tad protective of Spencer.

"There isn't a man on this planet that would make me leave Spencer." You say defensively, although you know Rossi didn't mean anything by what he said.

"That might be obvious to you, but not to Spencer." JJ says, eyeing Spencer standing back near the coffee machine.

"Doing okay man?" Luke asks hesitantly as he moves to stand next to Spencer.

"Yep." Spencer says shortly, waiting for the pot to brew. Luke feels the tension rolling off Spencer in waves, and it's all being directed at him and he's not sure why.

"Look, if I've done something to upset you, just talk to me about it Reid." Luke's voice is gentle, understanding. Spencer's jaw clenches again as the pot finishes brewing and he refreshes your cup before reaching for the creamer.

"I'm fine Alvez. Really." Spencer says again, but Luke isn't willing to let this go yet.

"No Reid, you're not-"

"Stop flirting with my wife." Spencer's tone is firm, and the look in his eyes tells Luke just how on edge Spencer is.

"You got it." Luke agrees instantly, even though he was never flirting with you. But he knows that right now arguing with Spencer will only make things worse. Seemingly satisfied with Luke's answer, Spencer carries your cup back you, slinging an arm around you.

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Spencer twists his wedding ring around his ring finger, something he does when he's stressed out or tense. You're currently sat in the interrogation room with the male suspect, a tattoo artist attending AA meetings, the tattoo on the first victim was the shakiest because he had just quit drinking. The other, more recent, victims tattoo's were more steady. The longer he stayed sober, the more his trembling faded. In Spencer's other palm is your wedding ring, you fit the physical preference of this killer perfectly, but he only went after single women. Emily thought sending somebody in fitting his victimology would throw him off enough to say something incriminating. In order for the rouse to work, you needed to appear single- meaning the wedding ring had to come off. The thought didn't settle well in Spencer's gut.

"You have to relax." JJ said suddenly from Spencer's right. He nearly ignored her but his frayed nerves were beginning to eat at him.

"I can't. Do you see the way he's looking at her?" Spencer was pacing back and forth in front of the one way glass like a caged animal, unable to take his eyes off of the train wreck happening in front of him.

"She can handle herself Spence." JJ insists gently, almost using a motherly tone to talk to him.

"She's mine!" And suddenly the crux of the issue comes to light, and Spencer pinches the bridge of his nose, releasing a heavy breath. JJ thinks about her words carefully, trying to find something to say that will calm him at least a little.

"Yeah, and nothing is going to change that Spencer. You need to relax, and you have to trust her. You're not in Prison anymore, nobody is going to take her from you." JJ says, looking him in the eyes. Suddenly the sound of metal screeching across a concrete floor sounds from behind Spencer and when he turns around, his blood boils hot in his veins. The suspect, Alan Baker, has shoved out of his chair and has started towards you.

"Spencer-" JJ's voice is distant, and comes too late. Spencer isn't listening to her anymore when his fist curls around the door handle and he nearly rips it off its hinges.

"You need to step back." Spencer snaps, reaching for his gun as Alan Baker backs you into the corner of the interrogation room. You weren't ever truly afraid, you could have handled Alan. Slowly, Alan backs away from you and Spencer instantly reaches for you. He leads you out of the room with a gentle but firm hand on your back. Once you're out of the interrogation room you turn to Spencer.

"What the hell? I could have dealt with him!" You insist, frustration laced in your tone. At this point JJ silently slips out of the room, giving you and Spencer some much needed privacy. Spencer crosses his arms as he leans back against the one way mirror.

"You didn't need to, I did." Spencer huffs and you seriously resist the urge to throw something at him.

"What is your problem today? You could have compromised my entire interrogation, he's never going to tell me anything now!" You snap, anger pinching at your features.

"Good! Now you have no reason to talk to him again." Spencer snaps back, can't you see that he's just protecting what's his?

"Spencer we're trying to save somebody! You're being selfish!" You say to him angrily, trying your best not to start yelling at him. Spencer's selfish possessiveness over you could have just ruined your entire investigation.

"This is why the Bureau was hesitant to reinstate you. They were scared you wouldn't be able to control yourself." You snap at him, crossing your arms.

"Are you saying they made a mistake?" Spencer asks incrediously, suddenly becoming defensive.

"Maybe they did. Because you're acting like an asshole right now. You've been a jerk to Luke the entire day when he busted his ass to help get you out of Prison and back to me! Since when have you not trusted me during an interrogation? What did you think was going to happen? That I was going to let him touch me? I thought you trusted me." You cry out, tears filling your eyes now. Spencer didn't say anything as you turned for the door, anger still laced in his features.

"This has nothing to do with me not trusting you-"

"If you don't trust me, then maybe you should just hold onto my wedding ring for a while. I don't want it." You snap quietly, and you regret the words the second they leave your lips. No matter how mad he makes you, you'd never leave Spencer. You watch Spencer's expression shift from anger to...hurt. He watches silently as you slam the door behind you. Prison has turned him into somebody he isn't, and Spencer doesn't know how to turn off this part of his brain. The part telling him that you belong to him, and that he needs to protect what's his.

Rossi catches the sight of your tear stained cheeks as you move back towards the kitchen in the precinct. You wipe your tears as he comes to stand beside you, and the look on his face tells you that he overheard your fight with Spencer. Rossi bumps you with his elbow gently, a small smile on his face.

"You don't look okay." He says softly and you let out a self-depreciating laugh.

"I'm not. I don't know how to help Spencer, he doesn't trust me." You say sadly, your heart breaking in your chest.

"It's not you he doesn't trust, it's other men." Rossi clarifies, although it does little to ease the pain. You reach up to brush your hair behind your ear when Rossi catches your hand, examining your ring finger.

"Where's your wedding ring?"

"Told Spencer I didn't want it." The words are laced with heavy regret, and when you remember the look on his face when you said it you almost start to cry again. Rossi wraps an arm around you, and you lean your head on his shoulder.

"Deep down, he knows you didn't mean it." He tries to reassure you.

"That's the problem, he probably thinks I meant it."

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Normally it only takes you and Spencer a few hours to smooth things over after a fight. But this time, it's been nearly 3 hours and you haven't spoken a word to each other. You're both working on searching through Alan Baker's financial records without speaking at all. Neither of you have said anything, and Spencer still has your wedding ring. You desperately want it back, but you don't know how to start that conversation. You're angry about how he's been treating everybody, and you feel like asking for your ring is accepting defeat. You're not ready to accept defeat. When Emily comes into the room, her eyes settle on the two of you.

"Okay, what's going on with you guys?" Her arms are crossed.

"Nothing." The word comes from both yours and Spencer's mouths at the same time, and you say it far too quickly. Emily raises one brow at the two of you before closing the door behind her.

"Alright I'm going to have to be a boss now. We are not going to lock this guy away if the two of you are fighting. We need everybody on their A-game. Fix it. Now, and I mean right now." She says, leaving the room but closing the door behind her. There's a suffocating silence that fills the room, both you and Spencer too stubborn to speak first. But you can't take it, you hate it when he's mad at you. You hate it when you guys fight, which isn't often but it does happen occasionally.

"I didn't mean it." You whisper, leaning on the table, facing away from him. Spencer doesn't say anything but you know he's listening.

"I didn't mean it Spencer, I want my ring." He'd be lying if he said he wasn't relieved to hear you say that, his entire world crashed down around him the second you told him to keep the ring. The irrational part of his brain told him you were going to divorce him.

"Can I please have it back?" You ask, barely turning your head to look at him. With a huff Spencer pushes away from the table to move in front of you. His eyes are focused on your hand, he has yet to look at you. Spencer fishes around in his pocket before he finds your ring and gently slides it onto your ring finger.

"You have to stop glaring at any man that gets to close to me, especially Luke." You tell him, but he continues to look away from you. Spencer pushes past you to stand near the windows, his back facing you. The thing about Spencer is that he's stubborn, really stubborn. You take a few steps towards him, nibbling on your lower lip.

"I love you Spencer, I'm sorry. I was an ass, but you acted like an ass too." You tell him, but Spencer only turns his head further away from you. You move to stand in front of him, but his eyes turn to the ground and his arms are crossed tightly. Seriously?

"Please talk to me Spencer, tell me what's going on." You can see the frustration laced in his features, there's something on the tip of his tongue that he needs to say.

"Spencer."

"After you left from your visit, do you know why I didn't let you come back?" Spencer snaps, his hands finding your shoulders to yank your body against his. Your chest collides with his and suddenly you feel a dampness building between your legs. You instantly turn to putty in his hands.

"I didn't let you come back because that asshole told everybody about you. Told everybody what a tight little body you have. Soon the entire cell block was fantasizing about my 'sexy wife'. Do you have any idea what it's like to listen to men constantly talk about fucking your wife?" Spencer's voice is tense, but you can see it. The lust building behind his eyes, the frustration, and the fear of losing you simmering underneath it all.

"N-No." Your voice is breathy, and your eyes are lidded as Spencer's hands slide up your arms to your shoulders.

"It's fucking hell Y/N. Every time I see any man look at you I want to rip his eyes out, and I can't turn it off. I've tried, and the way that Alvez looks at you- it drives me fucking crazy." Spencer snaps, the anger building by the second. Your entire body begins to hum with an intense need, and Spencer can see it in your eyes. Spencer releases you then and he turns for the door, at first you're afraid he's going to leave but instead he locks the door. Luckily it's late, so the police station is more deserted then it is during the day. Turning back to you, Spencer reaches for the blinds next and you can't help but follow his every movement with your eyes.

"Get on your knees." Spencer says suddenly, and you freeze in shock. Did he just say...?

"Get. On. Your. Knees." Spencer says again through clenched teeth, leaning back against the table, heat simmering in his eyes. His hands grip the edge of the table and you feel a throb from between your legs. Quickly you scramble onto your knees in front of him, your hands reaching up to undo his belt. Once the belt is unfastened, you're quickly unbuttoning his dress slacks, your eagerness making your hands a bit clumsy. Spencer has never been this dominant during sex, but you have no complaints. He has your knees weak and he hasn't even touched you. You quickly dip your hand into his boxers to pull his hardening cock out. As soon as his cock is freed, your lips are wrapping around the head. Spencer's head tosses back in ecstasy.

"Your lips look so pretty stretched around my cock. Those bastards could only imagine having you on your knees for them." Spencer snaps, his hand weaving into the hair at the back of your head. You moan softly around him at his crude words, slowly sliding down his cock. Spencer groans when he feels your tongue laving the underside of his cock, along the vein that runs from base to tip. Apparently feeling impatient, Spencer pushes your head further down his cock. He feels his tip right at the entrance of your throat, and with one gentle thrust he breaches your throat and his cock slides all the way into your mouth.

"Fuck," Spencer hisses, and Spencer does not curse often. So the fact that you have been able to draw curses from his mouth is nothing short of a miracle. Spencer's chest heaves slightly as you gag lightly around him, drawing another deep groan from his chest. You feel nearly desperate to please him, you need to make him cum. You want him to fucking pound you, you want him to use your body for his pleasure. You want him to release all of his frustration out on you, you want to be sore when he's done.

"You're mine. This is my body to touch and admire, my tight pussy to stretch open, mine." Spencer growls, thrusting gently to meet your hasty movements. You whimper around his cock, gagging slightly again as spit dribbles down your chin. Your eyes are wide and watery as you look up at him, and the sight of you nearly causes him to blow his load. You just look so fucking beautiful on your knees in front of him, drool on your chin and your mouth full of cock. It's a sight he will never forget. You move your head faster, keeping your eyes locked on his. Spencer squeezes the edge of the table, his head tossing back when his orgasm hits him. You feel his cum shooting in spurts to the back of your throat and you swallow every drop. Once you pull off him, Spencer is grabbing your elbows to pull you to stand.

Spencer's hands are reaching for the button of your dress slacks as his mouth presses messily to yours. Spencer's tongue pushes into your mouth, his hands pushing your pants down and you kick them off. Instantly, Spencer's fingers are sliding into your panties and through your slick folds. You whine loudly against his mouth, your eyes fluttering shut as his palm roughly cradles the back of your head.

"Need to make sure you know who you belong to." Spencer snaps as he pulls away from you, quickly pushing two long fingers into your dripping hole. You cry out before Spencer is slapping a hand over your mouth, your back pressed against the wall. Spencer's slender frame is leaning against you, effectively trapping you against the wall and his body. Your eyes are rolling when Spencer's finger crook inside of you while roughly thrusting into you.

"Gotta be quiet, wouldn't want Luke to catch us now would we?" Spencer breathes in the shell of your ear, sending goosebumps spreading over your skin. You are completely at Spencer's mercy and you wouldn't have it any other way. The pleasure shooting through you goes rocketing up your spine when Spencer scissors his fingers inside of you. You're mumbling incoherently against his palm, desperate pleas not to stop, to please let you cum. Your entire body is flushed, and you feel sweat on your skin like a sheen layer over you. Spencer feels you begin to squeeze around his fingers and he replaces his palm with his mouth, swallowing all of your moans and desperate cries.

Your back is arching as your high approaches, and you climb higher and higher to meet it. Spencer never lets up, his fingers steadily pumping into you and his lips muffling all of your cries of pleasure. The sounds you make are music to his ears, they tell him that you will always be his, no matter what childish fears he has. Your hands come up to unbutton the buttons on Spencer's dress shirt, you need to feel more of him. Before you can finish undressing your husband, his fingers nudge your cervix and you instantly clamp around his fingers, your body convulsing.

"You look so beautiful when you cum." Spencer praises, his cock rock hard again. He needs to be inside of you as soon as humanely possible. Spencer pulls away from you to grasp the base of his cock, no need to bother with protection. The two of you already agreed that you want to try for a baby anyway.

"Please baby, please get inside me. How could you think I'd ever leave you? I love you, and nobody could make me cum like you can." You moan desperately, turning to bend over the table. Spencer's hand runs up your spine, enjoying the way you wriggle your hips in search of his cock. There are butterflies squirming in your stomach as you spread your legs apart wider for him, but he still doesn't bring his cock closer to you.

"Oh c'mon Spence don't do this please. Baby, fuck me." You plead, nearly sobbing as you shamlessly beg. He presses his tip against your soaked entrance and you whine. You hear fabric rustling around and you turn your head just in time to see him pull his tie from around his neck.

"I needed to hear you beg for me, and this is to keep you quiet. As much as I love the sounds you make when I'm inside you, I can't let anyone else hear you." Spencer says, his voice low and rumbling from his chest. You open your mouth to let him tie the silk fabric in your mouth. You try to whimper but you gag around the tie in your mouth, and you see a pleased smile cross onto Spencer's face. Your fingers grasp at the edge of the table as you impatiently wait for Spencer to push into you. You feel his glorious cock nestled at your entrance, the tip barely nudging in. You feel another wave of slick gush out of you and Spencer is running his tip through your already drenched folds. Such a tease.

You whine softly, trying to push back against him. Spencer chuckles darkly before his hands grasp your hips to hold you steady. With one firm thrust, Spencer is breaching your folds and sliding deep inside you. You feel heat searing through you, your head dropping to the table as you whimper through the burn. The stretch burns more then you anticipated, and you hear Spencer groaning softly, which sends another wave of liquid heat rushing through you.

"God you feel so good baby, you take my cock so fucking well." Spencer praises, gently pulling out to slowly thrust back in. His eyes are locked on the place where you two connect, watching with hooded eyes as his cock disappears inside you.

"I wish you could see this baby, I love watching you take my cock." He praises through a soft moan, and you drink up every sound he makes. Spencer needed this so bad and you love the fact that you can give him a type of relief nobody else on the planet can give him. Spencer steadily thrusts into you when you both hear footsteps slowly passing outside the room. You expect Spencer to stop, to pull out of you and start redressing but he doesn't. He slows his pace considerably, but he still slowly thrusts into you.

"Shh, I would hate for whoever that is to see my cock buried in your pretty pussy." Spencer whispers as he leans forward to whisper in your ear. You struggle to contain the whimpers, but somehow you remain completely silent as Spencer gently thrusts into you. Once whoever it is passes by, Spencer resumes his quicker thrusts. His pelvis hits your ass with enough force to send you lurching across the table and your fingers scramble to find purchase against the smooth surface.

"This is my pussy, you're my wife, you're mine. Not Luke's, not that dick from the Prison. Mine." Spencer says, punctuating the words with a sharp thrust into you. You wished you could answer him, that you could cry to the heavens that you belong to Spencer Reid- that you never want to belong to anybody else. You settle for squeezing his cock whenever it returns to your velvety warmth, chanting the same word in your head over and over.

Yours yours yours yours yours.

Your forehead presses against the table, muffled and strangled cries escaping your lips every time Spencer hits deep inside you. His cock stretches you perfectly, and always hits places deep inside you. Places you didn't know existed. Soon you feel your orgasm creeping up on you, and you feel lightheaded so you reach up to yank the tie away from your mouth.

"Please make me cum Spence, I'm so close baby please don't stop." You beg, muffling your moans with your palm as he drives his cock into you. You feel sweat covering your entire body and Spencer holds your hips with a bruising force. You feel that coil winding tighter and tighter, and you release a high pitched whine when Spencer's hand snakes around your body to thumb your clit.

"Oh Spencer your cock feels so good, soo good baby. Always feels so good, fuck baby I love you," You're not sure what you're saying at this point, an incoherent mess of praises for the man above you. Spencer loves when he reduces you to this, speaking in a jumble of words and disconnected statements because you can't think with his cock inside you.

"I, shit, I love you-" Spencer gasps, slamming his cock inside you and rolling your clit before you're squeezing around him tightly, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. You cum in hot gushes around him and Spencer can only offer a few more stuttering thrusts before he's cumming with a loud growl, coating your walls in his hot cum. Spencer keeps his cock inside you, ensuring his cum stays inside you. He wants to get you pregnant. His palms gently hold your hips, and all the frustration he's felt all day has completely disappeared. His chest is heaving from the exertion but he feels more relaxed then he has all day. There's a smile on your face and your eyes are closed as your legs finally give out and you collapse against the table.

"You okay?" You hear Spencer's voice, and you can't help but smile when you hear that he's panting slightly. You hum with a smile on your face.

"I'm amazing." You mumble back, feeling Spencer begin to gently massage your back. You love enjoying the afterglow with him, even if you're laying on a table. Slowly Spencer pulls out, but he groans softly when he sees his cum inside your pussy. He reaches to the floor to pull your panties and dress slacks back up your legs and he quickly tucks himself back into his pants. He buttons the 4 buttons you managed to open on his shirt before he's gently pulling you to stand.

"You sure you're alright?" Spencer asks, concern in his eyes. You nod with a smile, but when he releases his hold on your shoulders, you feel your legs tremble and give out underneath you. Spencer immediately catches you and sets you down on the table. You laugh softly.

"Guess you fucked me good."

"Sorry." Spencer says sheepishly, but you press a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Don't be, that had to have been the best sex we've had in a long time." You mumble against his lips and Spencer hums in agreement. Reaching for his tie, Spencer shoves it in his pocket before he pokes his head out of the room you guys just defiled.

"Spencer, I'm so sorry about what I said. I love you so much, I didn't mean what I said about my ring-" You blubber suddenly, drawing Spencer's attention to you. He cradles your head against his chest, pressing kisses to your forehead.

"I know baby, it's okay. I love you." Spencer answers quietly, holding you to him tightly.

"I'm sorry I was a jerk today. I'm just so protective of you. I can't let anything steal you from me." Spencer admits softly and you cup his cheeks to make him look at you. There is a sadness in his eyes that you want to obliterate, you can't stand it when he's sad. It breaks your heart.

"Nothing could steal me from you. I only want you Spencer." You say quietly and you see tears misting his eyes. He presses his lips desperately against yours, and you feel tears cascading down yours and his cheeks. The kiss is wet, but it's passionate and you throw every ounce of love you have for this man into it. When you and Spencer part, your foreheads are pressed together.

"Hey Spence? How am I gonna get to the hotel. I can't walk." You say softly with a giggle and Spencer smiles mischievously.

"I guess I'll have to carry you." He scoops you bridal style into his arms then and you blush deeply when he carries you out of the room and towards the front entrance.

"Spencer! Everybody is going to know!" You whisper into his ear and he chuckles.

"Good."

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer x y/n #spencer x you #post prison spencer #jealousy #possessive #criminal minds #smut #spencer reid x you #spencer x reader #jealous smut

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dickwheelie · 3 years

Note

i dunno how loose the prompts can be but 👉👈something with jonmartin and martin having tattoos would be fun?

martin tattoos!! I loved this prompt, thank u Moss :)

_____________

"I'm thinking of getting another one," Martin said pensively, spearing a forkful of salad.

Jon glanced up at him from across the kitchen table. "Another . . . ?"

"Another tattoo," Martin said.

"Ahh."

Martin pointed down at his forearm. "There's an empty spot here that's been bothering me. I've got the Keats quote on my wrist, but nothing on the opposite side. It feels unbalanced."

Jon would never say it aloud, but he'd never quite understood Martin's need to cover every available inch of himself with permanent illustrations. Still, he couldn't complain; it had been a privilege and a joy to see Martin's skin transform into colorful, intricate designs over the course of the past few years, ever since they'd arrived in this Other Place. It had started with orchids on his left shoulder, and then a labyrinthine maze on his upper back, and then a quote from a poet Jon could no longer remember the name of along the side of his ribcage, and after that Jon had lost track. For a while, Martin had gotten tattoos almost at a fever pitch, as though trying to race himself to some finish line, which Jon supposed must be the entirety of the upper half of his body being turned into a sketchbook. He'd settled down a bit, now; he hadn't gotten a new tattoo in months. But Jon supposed that was about to change.

"What are you planning on putting there?" Jon asked, gesturing at the blank spot on Martin's arm, which was bordered by a black-and-white illustration of a lighthouse, its beam cutting through a night sky.

"I'm not sure yet," Martin said. "I've finished up with all the fears, by now." That had been one of Martin's major projects; he'd wanted to get a representation of every fear they'd faced and defied somewhere on his body. Jon, once again, didn't pretend to understand his reasoning, but he'd supported him nonetheless, and the day Martin had finally gotten the Lonely tattoo done, they'd celebrated together. "Any suggestions?" Martin asked him.

Jon chewed his dinner thoughtfully. He couldn't think of anything clever, so he said jokingly, "You should get my name tattooed on you. I know we promised we'd stay together, but if anything will make sure that'll happen, it's that."

Martin didn't laugh, which wasn't entirely surprising; Jon knew his and Martin's senses of humor didn't always click. What was surprising was the look he gave Jon, which was part confusion and part amusement.

"What?" Jon said with his mouth full.

"Jon," Martin said slowly, "I do have your name tattooed on me."

Jon's eyes went wide. "What?"

Now Martin did laugh. "It was one of the first ones I got done! I can't believe you didn't notice--"

"Wh--I--You were getting so many of them, in the beginning, I couldn't keep track!" Jon dropped his fork. "Stop laughing!"

Martin wiped a tear from his eye. "I can't, Jon, you're hilarious--"

"You should have told me, I can't be expected to--This is just the sort of thing you should've told me about, Martin!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd mind!"

"Of course I'd mind!" Jon didn't know what to think. They weren't the sort of couple that got tattoos of one another's names. Or were they? "Where . . . where is it?" He almost dreaded to ask.

Martin, having composed himself a bit, set about unbuttoning his shirt.

"I don't like where this is going," Jon intoned.

"Relax," Martin said, "it's not what you think."

"Really? Because it seems like it's exactly what I think. Which is that my boyfriend got my name tattooed on his chest without telling me."

"Oh, right. I guess it is what you think, then." Martin had finished unbuttoning the top half of his shirt, and moved the fabric aside to reveal the upper left side of his chest, which was covered in numerous colorful designs. Jon squinted, but couldn't make out anything specific, so he got up and moved to stand next to Martin, leaning down to inspect his chest.

"It's just here," Martin said, pointing, and indeed it was. In a little empty pocket of skin, just above Martin's heart, was Jon's full name, printed in tiny, neat script that Jon recognized as his own. The design was tasteful, and minimalist, the letters raised just enough to be noticeable if one ran their finger across it. By now the words had faded into Martin's skin, nestled there between his freckles, and they looked right at home.

Jon was quiet for perhaps a moment too long, because Martin said, "You're not really angry, are you? I really didn't think you'd care one way or the other. You were always so casual about the other ones."

"No," Jon said at last, "I'm not really angry. It's . . ." He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. "It's just . . . that's my name."

Martin smiled up at him. "It is."

"On your skin."

"Mm-hm."

"Forever."

"Or until we have a horrible break-up and I have to laser it off," Martin said, and Jon shot him a look. "Kidding." He leaned up and kissed Jon's cheek. "I didn't get this as a promise not to leave you. I'm never doing that, tattoo or no."

Jon smiled behind his hand. "So why did you get it, then?" he asked, pulling up his chair to sit.

"You know how you used to call me your reason?" Martin said. "It's sort of like that. It's a way to remind myself that I've got you. No matter what happens, you'll be with me. We're sticking together." He patted the name on his chest. "That's why."

"Ah," Jon said, his voice thick. "Makes sense."

Martin gave his hand a squeeze. "I'm not getting it removed."

"I know that," Jon said, and Martin grinned. As he started to button his shirt back up, Jon said, "You still are, you know."

Martin glanced up distractedly. "Still what?"

"My reason," Jon murmured, and Martin's hands stilled on the last button. "You said I used to call you that. Which, yes, I suppose I don't say it as much anymore. But it's still true. Always has been."

Martin stared at him for a moment, and then leaned suddenly forward, taking hold of the sides of Jon's face and kissing him within an inch of his life. "You romantic little shit," he said when they pulled apart, and Jon laughed, holding onto Martin's shoulders as he peppered Jon's face with more kisses.

"I'm not the romantic one," Jon said. "Who has whose name tattooed on whose chest now?"

"Alright," Martin conceded, "we'll call it even."

There was a moment of tired, pleasant silence.

"Wait," Jon said, remembering, "we still haven't decided about your new tattoo."

"Oh, right, that," Martin said. He waved a dismissive hand. "I'll just get another Keats quote. Or maybe Oscar Wilde. Change it up a bit." He glanced sidelong at Jon. "Or maybe I'll get the words His Reason done in a certain someone's handwriting--"

"Not on your life," Jon deadpanned, but he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face when Martin laughed.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #gwyneth writes

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blouisparadise · 3 years

Photo

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of July. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Jealousy, Jealousy | Not Rated | 1163 words

Harry gets jealous when James Corden hold his Louis in his lap and pets him on the Late Late Show. He shows Louis who he belongs to and takes care of him.

2) The X-Factor Judge | Explicit | 1635 words

Harry watches the X-Factor and gets jealous about Brendan jumping on Louis. When Louis gets home Harry reminds him whom he belongs to.

3) Didn’t Know You Had It In You | Explicit | 1807 words

Harry sleeptalks and reveals his kinks which Louis is more than happy to try out.

4) Mine | Explicit | 1979 words

"So you been single for a while now?" Louis gulped as the vibrator slowed down sending a thankful look to Harry before glancing back at the interview who was looking at him with great interest,

"Uhhh yeah," he replied keeping his answer short and brief. He straightened his back shuffling slightly on his chair as the vibrator shifted inside of him hitting his prostate causing him to let out a small gasp as grimaced at the interviewer who just grinned back. She must be an excellent actress or just stupidly oblivious.

5) In The Moment | Explicit | 2611 words

Note: This is part 2 of this series.

Where it's their first time and Harry is being all fluffy and encouraging Louis to say his name and other dirty stuff?

6) Salvation Under My Breath | Not Rated | 2858 words

Louis is pregnant...

...and Horny

7) The Sight of You Brings Forth a Peace In Me | Mature | 3254 words

Louis loses inspiration and goes on a nature walk to find some. The inspiration takes shape in the form of Harry.

8) Put Your Sweet Lips On My Lips | Explicit | 3435 words

Note: Part one of this fic is #23 on this list.

Adjusting to one another’s life came as naturally as the sun rising in the morning and brightening the sky, chasing away the darkness that had dared to lurk in its absence. They did not side step each other, did not second guess their instincts once they were finally together. It was the crash of roaring waves - reckless in their paths - but upon meeting had unified into calm waters in the vast sea.

Living with Harry was like a breath of fresh air. In all his years, Louis had never felt alive. He supposed there was some credit to be given to how devoted Harry was to him. The man would rather step in a raging fire than let him suffer even a trace amount of agony.

9) Fuck U (Even) Betta | Explicit | 3568 words

Note: This is the sequel to this fic.

Harry had sensed Louis was getting antsy all day, prodding and poking at Harry’s psyche like a game of mental whack-a-mole, trying to find that one thing that would flip the switch and push Harry over the edge. Even after all these years Louis still thinks he can get a rise, that he can in any way control the scenario. He couldn’t be more wrong.

10) We Act Like Nothing Is Wrong To Avoid What’s In Front of Us | Mature | 4179 words

Louis sends nudes meant for Harry to the wrong person on accident. Harry finds out. Rough sex ensues.

11) Love's First Bite | Explicit | 6135 words

Note: The pairing in this fic is Louis/Zayn.

For Zayn, love was never a part of life’s equation, not when you’re considered a lowly vampire while working in the Vampire’s royalty club, Love’s First Bite. He’s bitter and resentful and sees no point in looking into his past or future. But when Zayn saves a human named Louis, it all changes. He finds something special in him and, more importantly, someone worth giving up everything he holds dear.

12) Your Blueberry Eyes | Mature | 6154 words

Louis tattoos and Harry falls for blues.

13) Blow Me Away | Explicit | 6471 words

Louis likes giving blow jobs.

He doesn't exactly get off on it – he's been with people who properly loved it, and he's not quite that into it – but he doesn't mind the feel or the taste and he really, really likes watching his partner lose it, so getting down on his knees regularly is a no brainer.

Which is why it's a bit frustrating that every time he does, Liam hauls him back up again.

14) Thank You For This Prom Night | Not Rated | 6554 words

Note: This is part 3 of this series.

It's Prom Night. Stuff happens.

15) Can We Make It Anymore Obvious? | Explicit | 6628 words

Five times the boys accidentally walked in on Harry & Louis plus one time they did it on purpose.

16) It's The Way You Love (I Gotta Give It Back To You) | Explicit | 8153 words

Stretching, Louis finally pulled the duvet aside and let his feet fall onto the plush rug at his feet. Louis lived for soft, comfortable, plush things. From the fairy lights and fake plants to his plush robe and thick socks, everything in Louis’ little one bedroom apartment was carefully catered to his whimsical and soft aesthetic.

17) My Eyes Want You More Than A Melody | Explicit | 8315 words

Harry’s brain is short-circuiting at an absolutely awful time, the more expressive side of him is falling to pieces for some reason. The only responses he can give are venerated vibrations and nods, the feeling of Louis’ sweaty skin sliping him further into nothingness. Lightly dewy thighs, so muscular and plush— his lips feel just the same, so dangerously soft, a devious intention lying behind it all. “You’d do anything for me,” Louis mumbles, teeth tugging on Harry’s bottom lip, eyes dragging from his sinfully pink mouth when he lets it go to his hooded green eyes. “Isn't that right, daddy?” Harry whimpers— something that’s so foreign to him— but nods, trailing his hands up his shaved thighs, fingertips passing the hem of the dress.

18) Running Is Different Than Going | Explicit | 9018 words

Note: The pairing is Louis/OMC.

On the run, the last thing Michael expects from a stranger is help. Louis offers him everything he needs so he can keep running, but makes it harder than ever to continue doing so.

19) Quarantine, Baby! | Teen & Up | 9615 words

Note: There is no smut, but it contains mpreg Louis, so we’ve included it in this monthly roundup.

When Harry and Louis get a little too bored in quarantine, they turn to each other for some x-rated entertainment. Then, what starts as a COVID-scare, turns out to be something completely different.

20) Effervescent Horizons | Not Rated | 10676 words

Note: This is part 6 of this series. There is also no smut, but it contains mentions of bottom Louis, so we’ve included it in this monthly roundup.

They go to college together!

21) Moments | Explicit | 10726 words

Looking back, Louis should’ve known that the universe likes to fuck with idiots like him who think they’ve got it all sorted.

Looking back, he should’ve known that the minute he relaxed and let his guard down, when he thought things were going smoothly, that’s when it would hit him.

Looking back, he should’ve known to be on the lookout for a curveball.

He just hadn’t accounted for that curveball to have long legs, green eyes, and dimples; a curveball named Harry Styles.

22) The Blood Is Rare (And Sweet As Cherry Wine) | Explicit | 14270 words

Note: The sequel to this fic is #8 on this list.

"Officer, I see you're giving away my secrets already," Harry said as he entered the room.

"It's hardly a secret," Louis accepted the delicate glass, cutting a glance at the man when the underlying scent hit him, "A little early to indulge in such things, isn't it?"

"You've had a long morning, I'm sure. Merely looking after your health, Officer," Harry smiled.

"You don't need to concern yourself with that."

"Someone has to."

23) Violent Delights | Not Rated | 76174 words

Prince Harry is arranged to mate Princess Charlotte, but first he must spend a month completing courting traditions which ends in a mating ceremony. When he arrives to the Tomlinson castle, he finds the forbidden North wing holds that which the family has worked hard to keep secret. Mainly: the sickly sweet Prince Louis, who’s rare gender has forced his family to keep him locked away for his own protection.

24) Truth Behind Golden Eyes | Explicit | 228727 words

Louis is a royal servant born with magic in a kingdom where his sole existence is outlawed with a war he has no idea he has a part in upon him. Harry is the prince on whom the burden of mending a broken kingdom falls upon and he might be willing to risk it all for a simple servant if only he admitted it to himself.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #blp fic recs #monthly fic recs #fic recs #blp #larry

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cheegu3 · 3 years

Text

~ Yandere Hyunjin - X31 ~ [CULT SPECIAL 1/2 PTS]

tw / trigger warning: Yandere themes, abusive relationships, brainwashing, violence, cult themes, blood etc [this one isn’t very “ culty “ only an introduction]

a/n: I was really feeling a cult yandere thing and I haven’t written abt stray kids in a while oop so here u go <3 also let me know if u want a continuation or smth similar c:

wc: 1.4k

summary: there was an active and well known cult / gang in your hometown, you had never ran into them until u did - and the leader set his eyes on you, he’ll do anything to get what he wants.

Thankfully the house where the party had been at wasn’t too far from your house. It was a couple of blocks away and once you came out onto the main road it wasn’t as badly lit as before, except you never made it there.

A firm hand was placed on your shoulder stopping you from passing. It was hard to see what the person looked like because they were wearing a dark mask. Other than that he was very tall and slender with piercings and tattoos complementing his jet black hair.

‘‘ What is such a cute girl doing out here alone on a friday night? ‘‘ he asked.

His tone of voice didn’t sound teasing or innocent, it sounded rather like a bit of amusement that rang alarms and made your gut wrench telling you to get away from this man.

You chuckled nervously and tried to look like you were just shy while increasing the distance between you two.

‘‘ I-I’m gonna go meet my brother, after uh, his boxing practice? ‘‘ you weren’t good at lying and your tactic of trying to make him scared by saying you basically had a big scary brother that would hurt him if he tried anything, completely failed.

He laughed, his voice and deep laugh didn’t match the cuteness of his face when his mouth curved upwards which made his eyes crinkle into half moons. He looked adorable to you but something told you it was often used to his advantage to get the people to trust him and then do...bad things.

‘‘ You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met ‘‘ he still had a twinkle of amusement in his eyes from laughing.

You chuckled awkwardly again and began shifting uncomfortably. Small drops landed on your exposed skin, fuck why would it start raining now.

‘‘ Well I better go. It was nice meeting you ‘‘ you said.

He didn’t say anything, just nodded and stood frozen in his spot even when you walked past. Chills ran down your spine when you turned back one last time to see him watching you - his eyes had never left you and they looked very dark now, like they were one with the darkness behind him.

You quickened your pace and even though you expected him to jump out at every corner you turned and every alleyway you passed, he never did. When you had reached your apartment you glanced back and quickly got in, pulling the door shut after you and locking it. But even as you were basically safe you still were on the edge all the way up to your room, jumping at the slightest sound.

Feeling exhausted from the party even though you didn’t drink much you decided to get to bed. Crawling under the covers you looked at the dark street below, you suddenly remembered the man and squeaked feeling very childish when you ran to close the blinds and then pulling the covers up to your nose after.

It took about an hour for you to just calm yourself down. You lived alone and it wasn’t the first time you’d had these hysteric thoughts that kept you up for several hours, sometimes for the whole night. Finally though you managed to repeat positive affirmations to yourself which made your body relax, making you be able to fall asleep.

The next morning you woke up early, sweating from the heat. You pulled up the blinds cautiously and peered out. It was dead empty and it looked spookier than ever with the thick fog covering it.

You sighed knowing you still had to go to work, you were always cursed with the early shift. When you had pulled on your shoes and clothes ready to leave the house, the man from last night had completely slipped your mind and so you felt peaceful walking past that same very alleyway - until someone grabbed you.

You were pushed very hard and pinned to the brick wall to your right. You groaned in pain loudly but were very quickly silenced by a large hand covering your mouth. Your head was spinning but you still managed to look up at the person that had basically attacked you.

It was him no doubt. The dark seemingly innocent eyes, the dark hair, pierced ears and tattooed arms. Only, he wasn’t wearing the black mask now which gave you full access to his other features.

Even those from his soft plump lips and defined nose with a mole on it made him look innocent. There was no way this man would hurt you let alone anyone...would he?

You swallowed thickly and looked up at him. You saw him smirk slightly.

‘‘ So we meet again y/n ‘‘

You pushed his hand off in panic but he still kept you pinned to the wall.

‘‘ How the fuck do you know my name? ‘‘ you screamed, and there he was covering your mouth again but this time more harshly so you’d have no way of pushing him off.

‘‘ Be quiet ‘‘ he growled lowly.

He then pulled you away from the wall and took a fistful of your hair, twisting it to force you to move towards the direction he wanted you to move in - further down the alleyway. There was a clearing there and what seemed to look like a black van with a bunch of graffiti on it.

You didn’t resist him and only followed, your panic hadn’t fully kicked in and you were still hopeful somehow - thinking that someone would save you as you got out or that he didn’t want to hurt you, anything to keep you sane during the walk.

When he had pushed you out into the clearing on the other side of the alleyway you took one last look at the apartment where your friend lived and where the party had been just last night.

Hushed voices made you snap your head to the left and you saw several more guys, dressed like him and they all had the same vibe with tattoos and piercings decorating their bodies. When they noticed you two they looked surprised.

‘‘ Found her already? ‘‘ one of them said, one that was a little shorter.

‘‘ Jesus, that was quick boss ‘‘ another added.

You looked at the guy holding you. He was their boss?

He looked a bit annoyed and gave them a silent dangerous look.

‘‘ Everything ready? ‘‘ he asked them.

They nodded in sync and gestured towards the van that on closer look was a lot bigger than it seemed to be. It had several seats and could easily fit up to ten people. You didn’t have a choice, he pushed you into the back and pulled up some sort of cover which divided you two from the others.

Without a word he aggressively handled you, he sat you down correctly and fastened your seatbelt. When the panic that you had been so numb to finally kicked in and you tried to hit his hands away he growled at you again and grabbed both your wrists with one of his hands.

With his other hand he was fumbling somewhere to his side feeling around with his fingers until he apparently found what he was looking for. He brought it up so you could see it,

It was a rope.

An overwhelming feeling of nausea overtook you and you started fighting back harder, kicking and screaming as well.

‘‘ HELP! HELP ME! ‘‘

But even amidst your adrenaline kick he was still stronger than you, tying your hands up so tightly that it was hurting you.

Then he snapped with his fingers to get your attention, which it did. He rolled up his sleeve and there on the top of his bicep was another tattoo, it had words that made you silent immediately when you read them.

X31

#stray kids #stray kids yandere #stray kids fanfic #kpop #kpopidol #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #yandere kpop

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

shut in [1]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Gender Neutral Reader)

Warnings: cursing, violence, guns, death

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: greetings. i have returned with a series that i have actually finished writing beforehand so i just have to post the chapters and yes this means i will not let this go incomplete shoutout to my bitch @midnightsunfae for putting up w me mwah lov u if i’ve completely butchered sam’s character, tell me so i can delete my entire account pls and thanks

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Shut In Masterlist || Main Masterlist

“Alexander Pierce.” The file fell on the table with a resounding thud.

“What about him?”

“I want him dead.”

The house stood tall; obnoxious, almost, with loud embellishments of gold. It screamed wealth spent lavishly and without any reasonable thought.

Also it was ugly.

You scaled the gate, landing on the gravel silently. There were no security measures that you could see beyond the automated entry and CCTV whose light wasn’t blinking. Must have been a power outage. An unlikely coincidence, but it just made your job easier.

You made a move towards the side of the house, staying close to the trees that lined the driveway, out of the direct line of sight of the house’s front door.

His car was parked outside; a swanky looking race car kept outside just for show. He was definitely at home.

A window at the side of the mansion was left slightly ajar. A quick sweep up the side of the house proved that the rest of them were shut.

Your eyebrow quirked up in suspicion, quickly taking a look around to see if you were being watched. For a few seconds the world didn’t seem to move, eerily silent other than the rustling of leaves.

Pierce was clearly the flagbearer of home security.

You stuffed your gun into the waistband of your pants, freeing both your hands to tug yourself into the room.

Your gun found its way into your hand once more as you scanned the room. He wasn’t on the bed. You deemed the silence as an indicator to safely to move ahead.

So far it seemed easy.

Too easy?

Ransone’s body was spread across his chair, leisurely stroking at his stubble. His other hand thrummed rhythmically at the timber in front of him. His eyes were glazed over; physically present but mind wandering elsewhere.

You waited for him to explain further, knowing better than to interrupt his train of thought.

He had the strangest penchant for drama and theatre. From what you could gather of the dim light in the room and his stance, he had just watched The Godfather. Again.

“Do you know how long it took me to build this business?” His words sounded like a musing, akin to a private thought he was letting you in on. “This empire, Y/N?”

“Twenty three years.” Your arms were crossed behind you, a sign of discipline he demanded from all members of the organisation.

“And I haven’t gotten there by being the neighbourhood church boy.” He gestured to one of the two men beside him, a rifle strung across their back at the ready. One of them-- Rumlow-- stepped forward, lighting a cigar and handing it to him.

He took a long drag, taking his time to exhale, flicking at the cigar to get rid of the loose ash. If he just got to the point, you could have left about twenty minutes ago.

“I’ve done terrible things,” he admitted, “but you know? I won’t be blamed for them. A bit of collateral damage was inevitable.”

His chair swayed from side to side as his feet thumped at the table. It annoyed you endlessly. You never told him.

“And you know how I feel about collateral damage, right?”

“Show no mercy.”

The house was silent, except for the faint sound of the television some distance away. You wouldn’t have been able to see if not for the moonlight that illuminated the space through the large windows.

Your gun pressed tightly to your side, you made your way down the open hallway. As you passed by the kitchen, the ticking of the timer on the oven made you pause. The oven itself wasn’t on but the clock was still ticking.

A bowl was kept on the marble island separating the rest of the hall from the kitchen. A pair of car keys lay mangled among a couple of dollar bills and loose change like he threw it in carelessly.

Continuing further down the hall, you came to the realisation that it culminated in a room that faced his backyard. Only a single glass sheet acted as a barrier between him and the outdoors.

You could hear the show getting louder, hidden from your line of sight by the couch in front of it.

Pierce’s head faced away from you and towards the only light source in the room. He hadn’t heard you come in.

From what you could see, he was asleep. Head slumped slightly, arm slinked over the backrest and no other movement.

It wasn’t actually a TV, just an iPad on its loudest setting with Netflix playing what looked like Horrible Bosses. A man with exquisite taste, obviously.

You took one step at a time, slowly making your way towards the couch until you were just a step or two behind him. You raised your arm, pressing your gun to the back of his head.

“Show no mercy,” he repeated, the corner of his mouth turning upward as he looked at you.

You wanted to shift under his stare. Your muscles were beginning to feel a dull burn, a sign that you had been standing still for too long.

“So tell me, after all my effort-” he stuck his bottom lip out mockingly- “should I let my fucking company get destroyed by one person?”

His hand harshly slammed down on the table as he lurched forward in his chair, eyes seething.

You nearly jumped at his sudden change in demeanour, knuckles tightening in anticipation.

“Tell me, boys, how far do I tolerate liars?” His stare didn’t waver, looking straight into your eyes.

“You don’t.” Their voices were eerily synchronised. You wondered if they ever rehearsed together. Probably did.

“Lovely.” Ransone smiled, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t.”

“Liars?” Your voice had risen by an octave or two, your surprise catching you off guard.

“Someone has been sneaking information to Serpentine for nearly two years.” A chill ran down your spine, the muscles in your jaw tightening. “They’ve been growing exponentially and someone’s been helpin’ them do it.”

Only someone didn’t fear death would turn their back on him. Someone who had nothing to lose.

“We have reason to believe it’s Pierce.”

A moment passed where you expected him to wake up, turn around and look at you so that you could deliver Ransone’s message to him, a quippy one liner about betrayal or something.

But he didn’t.

Instead, his head shifted under the pressure of your gun, falling over as if it was weightless.

Your face pulled into a frown as you made your way to the front of the couch swiftly, gun still held tightly in front of you.

Your shadow dimmed the light that fell on him from the iPad, but it was impossible to deny.

A single gunshot to the front of his head. Eyes wide open, red from the lack of moisture. The blood around him painted a gory scene that was impossible to notice from behind.

“What the-” you murmured, lowering your arm.

“I can tolerate one mistake. Everyone deserves that.” Ransone shrugged offhandedly. “But this isn’t the first one he’s made.”

“So you want him gone.”

“That would be lovely, yes.” He relaxed into his chair once again, taking another hit from his cigar.

“Why do you want me to do it?” you asked, eyebrows knitted together. Generally he would send you for something more high-profile. Raids, infiltrations. These kinds of hits were what you left behind years ago.

“A spy has security from the ones they’re working for. It’s possibly more dangerous.” His feet found its way onto the table, one over the other as he stretched back. “And I’m not sure my other agent can make it.”

“Thanks,” you spoke monotonously. “Glad to know I’m your first choice.”

“Don’t take it personally.” He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “He probably won’t show.”

His sleeve fell slightly to reveal a sliver of his tattoo. A spider, the symbol of his authority.

Each of his employees had a web inked on their skin that grew with each passing year of their service. It was how you identified each other in passing.

“You have an opening on Friday. His house help leaves at 8 sharp and he’s alone.”

You nodded, picking up the file in front of him, avoiding his fingers that had returned to thrumming on the tabletop. You acknowledged the two men beside him before making your way toward the door.

This house was all the way across the country. No wonder he gave you a bit more time as compared to usual to prepare.

“It’ll be done.”

The sound of a gun clicking away from you made the hair on your neck stand up.

You sprung up, arms extended in front of you instinctively towards the sound.

Even in the dim light of the room, you could see a man standing a few feet away from you. His hand held a glock, aimed towards you.

Neither of you said a word. Time stood still for all you cared. The only indication that it didn’t was that Horrible Bosses was still playing.

“Who the fuck are you?” you finally asked, voice surprisingly calm for the adrenaline that was spiking through your body.

“Who are you?” he questioned in retaliation, tone curt.

“I asked first.” You wondered if he could see you roll your eyes.

He didn’t reply, obviously.

A beat passed and you almost forgot the dead body that lay near your knees. Almost. It didn’t help that his fingers were nearly touching your leg like some kind of pervert; not that you could blame him for it this time.

“Did you kill him?” he finally relented, mentioning towards him quickly with a tug of his shoulder.

“What-” You recoiled, head slightly jerking back in disbelief. “No. Didn’t you?”

“He was like this when I got here.” He paused, and you let him speak. “And then you came in; thought you were comin’ back to check.”

“I just got here.”

“I can’t confirm that.” His answer was instantaneous, almost cutting you off before you finished.

“And I can’t confirm you didn’t kill him.” You took a step away from Pierce, never breaking his gaze. “The odds are kinda against you here.”

“I didn’t kill him.” He only took a step toward you, making you stop where you were. He wasn’t going to let you get out of this.

“What a compelling argument,” you drawled sarcastically. “Then what are you doing here?”

“Cookin�� him dinner,” he snapped back quickly in a manner that would usually make you smile if it weren’t for the situation you were in presently. “What do you think?”

“Who sent you?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why did they send you?”

“I can’t tell you that either.”

“Then give me a reason why I shouldn’t pull this trigger right now.”

“You first.”

It was a shame you had to kill him. You found his resilience fun.

“Well, it was pleasant-” You were cut off by the sound of a bullet whizzing past your head. It struck the vase next to the couch, instantly exploding into hundreds of shards.

“Did you just fucking shoot at me?” you yelled, swiftly raising your gun so that it was pointed at his forehead.

But he wasn’t looking at you. He was looking at the large glass, too distracted to pay heed to what you were saying.

You slowly followed his line of sight to the window.

A large fracture in the glass surrounded a small hole, nearly invisible from your distance if you weren’t looking hard enough.

You looked back at him to find him staring at you.

A split second later the glass sheet shattered, sending the pieces all over the room. You launched yourself behind the couch heavily, avoiding the barrage of bullets being shot your way.

From the corner of your eye you could see the man dive to take cover behind the couch with you.

“What the fuck?” you asked loudly, back pressed against the backrest as various items shattered around you. “Who the hell are these guys?”

“The shittiest bodyguards ever.” He looked over his shoulder but slid back down again when a shot nearly missed his face.

You didn’t even know where to shoot; the bullets just seemed to be coming from the shadows of the trees.

Taking a moment to assess the man breathing hard next to you. He was tall and muscular, a tight fighting shirt stretching across his chest. His hair was cropped, eyes dark with what looked like irritation more than anger. Hot.

Your attention was drawn to a trail of blood left on his forehead as he wiped at it with his forearm, him seemingly unaware of it.

“Dude, I think you got grazed.”

He looked at you questioningly. You pointed at his arm with your shoulder. His eyes dropped to it, letting out a string of curses as he tugged his sleeve back to look at the wound.

He didn’t have to pull it back much before the sight of a familiar design greeted you.

A spider web. Drawn intricately with the lines stretching delicately across his skin like lace.

A tattoo.

“You work for Ransone?” None of this made sense. Why were there two of you on the same mission? Who was this guy? Was he supposed to be here?

You didn’t wait for his answer, pulling your sleeve back to reveal the same tattoo, smaller in size, but indicative enough.

He took a second to process. You could almost see the gears turning in his head.

“Great,” he finally said as a bullet lodged itself in the wall you were facing, bitterness lacing his words. “It’s a set up.”

“Oh, one more thing, Y/N.”

You spun on your heel to look at him. A devilish smile grew on his face.

“Remember- we don’t tolerate liars.”

You stared at him, not uttering a word, waiting for him to make his point.

“So make sure you let him know that.” His smile only grew as you turned around and walked out the door, letting it shut behind you.

The crunching of feet over glass made you look over your shoulder, only to quickly retract before your head was blown off.

They were wearing ski masks and all black tactical suits, leaving not even an inch of their skin uncovered.

“I count four or five. There may be more,” the man next to you said slowly.

“You take the ones on the left, I’ll take right,” you instructed, seeing him nod his head. You didn’t even know his name but apparently you were working together now.

You gave a small countdown before pivoting on your knee to face them, eyes already set on your target.

Firing off two shots, you saw the first one fall to the floor, soon accompanied by his teammate as you shot a round at his forehead.

Four were down, counting the bodies next to them on the floor, but the bullets didn’t stop firing at you. They clearly were in a much larger number than you anticipated.

You weren’t sure how many more bullets the couch could absorb. The both of you were basically sitting ducks; who knew how many more were out there. You had limited ammo because you didn’t expect a fucking SWAT team when you came to kill one man.

“We need to go,” he voiced your exact concern.

“Yep,” you grunted, shifting to reload your gun from the spare ammo in your pocket.

You didn’t know how to get out of here considering that you didn’t bring your own-

“I got a plan,” you said. He looked at you inquisitively. “You know the window in the west bedroom, hall dead-end?”

He nodded. Perhaps he was the one who left it open when he arrived.

“On the count of three, make a run for it.” You winced as a bullet tore through the fabric of the couch, right near where your shoulder was a second ago.

“We can’t outrun them,” he hissed, quickly shooting behind him before rejoining you on the floor.

“Trust me.” Bold ask. You wondered if he would.

“I don’t.”

“Do it anyway.”

You didn’t really care if he didn’t. At least you’d get out.

“One.” You shifted to sit on your knee. You could see him sit still, not joining you.

“Two.” Your gun was pressed to your side, at the ready.

“Three.” Like an athlete in a race you took off, not daring to look behind you even once as shots rode the air, narrowly missing your body.

You almost didn’t hear his groan and a small “Fuckin’ hell” before heavy footsteps ran behind you.

You smiled triumphantly, until you remembered the both of you were being followed, at least four more shooters hot on your heels.

You shot a single shot behind you, hearing someone wheeze before a loud thump of a body hitting the floor. Hopefully it wasn’t the guy you were with, but you couldn’t find it in your to care much if it was.

You raced past the numerous rooms you passed on the way here before it suddenly widened into the open kitchen.

Your body moved in autopilot, a detour in the form of a quick skip as you reached over and grabbed the contents of the bowl on the counter, fumbling to hold onto the car keys as loose change fell to the floor.

The oven timer went off, not for long before you heard its door splinter into pieces as someone shot at it in annoyance.

You took a sharp right into the room, followed by the man who took the time to kick the door shut behind him, buying you maybe a second or two of time.

You nearly flung yourself out of the window, the gravel not exactly providing the softest landing as you scrambled to open the door of the car.

“Get in!” you yelled at him as he obliged, yanking the door and jumping into the passenger seat. You threw the few dollars you had caught hold of by mistake on the floor of the car.

You could hear the door of the room being kicked open, and what seemed like angry shouting as the window cracked, leaving nothing in its wake.

You revved the engine, slamming the accelerator with as much power as you could. The car lurched backwards, and you cursed, switching gears to go forward.

The harsh sound of metal on metal followed you as they shot at whatever they could. You prayed they wouldn’t accidentally hit the wheel or gas tank. They didn’t exactly seem like the best in the business, having missed most of their shots.

“Go go go!” The guy beside you was holding on to his seat tightly for support.

The car broke through the rusty gates. You cringed at the dent on the hood, but didn’t slow down even for a second as you wove through trees of the estate, not losing speed even as you got onto the highway.

Silence befell the both of you for a good amount of time, but not enough time to process what had just happened. Your adrenaline was still high as you drove well above the speed limit.

Your next step was unclear.

You were in a car with a complete stranger. You weren’t sure if you were injured somewhere. You didn’t even know where you were driving to.

“Alright,” he cleared his throat. “What the hell was that?

Part 2

437 notes · View notes

un2-verse · 3 years

Text

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (3)

Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader

genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol

Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!

wordcount: 2.2k

taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine

a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as i’ve never published my writing before so thank u sm ♡ i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where it’d go or anything but i’m happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, i’ve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying “cherish your life” since that’s pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D ps— taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!

series masterlist

part one part two

The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on it’s cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read “play me” and when the subjects did, a chilling voice— one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terror— would echo around the room.

Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasn’t responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panic— they did not want to live in fear.

It was the only face behind the killings.

But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.

“How are you scared of heights? You’re practically a giant yourself!”

“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can’t be scared of heights Y/Nie.”

You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think you’d known eachother since childhood— the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.

You’d only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadn’t seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.

“I just wouldn’t imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung… you seem so confident and fearless.”

You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.

“I did have my fears back then, much like yours.”

“What do you mean?” you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.

A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, “The fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldn’t let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, I’d pretended that I’d gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didn’t take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.” Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say… obsessive. “I just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I don’t remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.”

Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one he’d actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his father’s body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.

You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.” There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.

“You don’t need to be sorry baby, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.” A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, “I wasn’t successful with my attempt so now I’m here to help you.”

Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.

You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.

It was nearing the evening when Taehyung’s car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.

For the first time in forever, you looked alive.

Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyung’s attention, “Sorry to interrupt guys. We’ve finished with your car so whenever you’re ready we’ll be outside.” The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.

“Thanks man! I’ll be like, five minutes.”

Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.

You’d taken Tae’s hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked ‘thirty seven’ on his palm. “What does this mean?”

Taehyung didn’t think twice before he practically beamed out, “It’s my lucky number.”

The difference was, it wasn’t really his lucky number… although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain type— those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.

You see, things aren’t sequential. Good doesn’t lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, don’t get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.

Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.

He’d started this with one thing on his mind— those that don’t appreciate life do not deserve it.

Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named ‘Jigsaw’.

This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.

It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.

The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.

After all, until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.

They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.

A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.

A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.

Billy.

Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, “Help! Please, somebody help! I shouldn’t be here!”

A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, “Trust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. You’d just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.”

With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” The man's footsteps grew louder. “I’m here to serve justice, that’s all.”

The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicately—like he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.

“You fucking psycho! Let me go!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.

“I’d be very careful if I was you, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now… would we?” The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.

“What the fuck, you’re fucking crazy. Let me out, this isn’t right!” The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man who’d imprisoned them.

“I think you’ll find it is right. You’re unworthy of the body you possess.” He inched closer, “see, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The man arched a brow as he replied, “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. “But, let me remind you! Since you can’t get your thick fucking head to work. You’re a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?”

The subject's face dropped.

“Ah, I see by your expression you know exactly what I’m talking about! Glad to see we’re on the same page.” He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. “I want to play a game.”

“What game? This isn’t a fucking game! You’re sick in the head you fucking cunt!”

The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.

“What is this? What fucking game?”

“You feel the machine that’s currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes that’s going to rip you apart. I’m proud to say that trap is my baby. I’ve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?” he reached out to tug at the subject’s legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. “Anyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,” the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, “is going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.”

“Fuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!”

A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subject’s leg. “This is a special game.”

“Who are you? What do you mean by ‘special game’?”

He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, “I’m the man you call Jigsaw.” He traced the tip of the knife along the subject’s ankle, “and when I say a special game… I mean you can’t get out.” While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subject’s achilles.

A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldn’t string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, “That’s for Y/N.”

Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subject’s tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, “Game over!”

Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.

Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.

He’d chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, he’d done you a favour.

That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?

[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???👀]

220 notes · View notes

rrazor · 3 years

Text

positions | m. issei

tags: fluff, mildly suggestive content

issei never knew how much he loved touching you until he was granted unconditional permission to do so. he thought he was relatively independent and someone who didn’t need as much reassurance or physical affection compared to other guys around him, like oikawa and hanamaki or even iwaizumi.

he thought he’d be fine, satisfied, content with just having you sit next to him or holding your hand or just being near you.

he thought wrong.

but he’s okay with that—you always indulged him after all, more than happy to have him close. your face lights up in a way that’s so adorable it pains him and has his fingers itching for contact.

he toys with the edge of your hoodie, watching your in-game character dash about. turning his head, he dips it into the crook of your neck, closing his eyes. his arms automatically tighten around you as he noses into the skin there.

“‘sei, you bored?”

he mumbles his “no” into your skin, smelling clean and cottony from your shower. his legs tangle with yours underneath the blankets. the side of his right foot comes up to brush against your bare calf and he begins to wish he wore shorts instead.

you hum, fingers tapping away at the screen while his slide up under your hoodie. you glance down at them before looking back to your screen again. issei grins happily behind you, gently roaming his hands across your stomach and up to cup your boobs. your skin is soft, recently moisturized. you talked about how you bought a new one, how it was “natural” and made your skin feel like velvet. he agrees, roaming his hands around and taking in all your dips and curves.

“hey!” you squeal. “i’m fighting!”

he chuckles, kissing your cheek. “and you’re gonna lose if you don’t focus.”

you huff, but to his delight, don’t tell him to stop so he lets you grumble, snickering like the cat who got the cream.

｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ

he wakes up to a delirious fog, overheated and chilled to the bone. bringing his hand up to rub at his eyes, he blinks through the darkness of his room, slowly extending an arm to his phone on his nightstand.

5:37pm.

“nii-chan… room… dinner.”

he hears footsteps get closer to his door. a short series of knocks.

“issei?” your voice is soft. “are you awake?”

“yes,” he tries to say, but it comes out a rasp, too quiet. he wonders why you’re here anyways, on a school night when there’s a math exam tomorrow. an exam he hopes he’ll pass given the state he’s in.

the door opens gently, allowing the soft yellow light from the hallway into his room. you walk in, hands carrying a tray. he hears the china knock into each other.

“oh, you’re awake.”

he nods, watching you set down everything on his nightstand before putting a hand over his forehead. the steam of the mug rises and already, he can feel how dry his mouth is.

“how’re you feeling?”

he clears his throat, wincing at the amount of phlegm he’s forced to clear out. you frown, if your down turned eyebrows are anything to go by. he can’t see the rest of your pretty face behind your mask.

“been better,” he croaks.

you huff out a laugh. “got enough energy for your meds?”

he nods, sitting up just enough to make it easy to wash the pills down with water before he slumps back into bed.

“are you hungry?” you ask, sitting down at the edge of his bed.

he shakes his head, letting you touch his forehead again.

“tired? wanna go back to sleep?”

he hums noncommittally, bringing his hand up to hold onto your wrist. you run your fingers through his soft curls, making him shiver.

“go to sleep,” you whisper.

he shakes his head, pulling you hard enough that you fall over him in surprise. he wraps his arms around your torso, burying his face in your chest.

“hey,” you chide, resting on your elbows above him. “you need to rest.”

he nuzzles into your shirt, relishing in having you close. the smooth, cool cotton of your shirt a welcome feeling on his overheated skin.

“missed you.”

straight through the heart.

“i missed you, too,” you whisper.

“stay a bit?” he pleas. he knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t really help himself.

you bring the blankets up over yourself and his heart soars. he tucks himself on top of your chest, heart pounding in his chest as you pull your mask down to kiss his forehead. it’s tender, so comforting.

he falls asleep to the smell of cotton and camomile.

｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ

“babe.”

you hum, lips resting against his forehead. the clock on the bedside table reads 9:48pm in muted led.

he can’t see you in the dark, tucked in so close to you. issei’s resting beside you again. because he can’t ever get enough. because that’s where he belongs, hands on your skin, head tucked into your neck. he’s tall, might as well be two metres, two whole hundred centimetres but issei adores it when he gets to be the small spoon.

“d’y’ever think about the people who got infinity symbols tattooed or those moustaches—wonder how they’re doing?”

he can hear you, feel you laugh.

“no, i would’ve never if you didn’t bring it up,” you snort. “forgot about those dumb trends.”

he chuckles softly into your pajamas, slotting himself closer to you. he can’t explain it but an overwhelming surge of love blooms in his chest when you bring the blankets up to cover his shoulders.

you’ll probably end up on opposite sides of the bed in the morning, maybe even turned away from one another. s’fine, he usually ends up scooching over to you anyways. the rise and fall of your chest slows. it’s a bit too early for him to doze off—.

“g’night, ‘sei,” you mumble, kissing his hairline. “love you.”

he nods imperceptibly, kissing where your heart is. “night,” he whispers. “love you more.”

you mumble something into his hair. he draws infinity signs on your back.

｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ

today, he’s the big spoon—sorta. you’re on the train to the mitsui outlet park. it’s crowded, likely because of the kamen rider event going on. the rest of his family got there early to participate from start to finish.

it’s 11:58am and he’s caged you in between the train walls, a nice barricade from other passengers.

he’s zoning out when he hears your stomach growl.

“did you eat breakfast?”

you look up at him sheepishly. “no?”

he leans down to knock his forehead against yours, lips curling upward when you make a funny noise.

“i think i have candy in my pockets.”

his mom was giving them out in the morning after finding them in her purse. she handed him a few saying she got them from work.

“really?” your eyes glimmer as your hands reach into his pockets. your rummaging digs up two pieces of caramel. you unwrap them and feed one to him before pocketing the plastic.

“y’know i think i love you a little bit.” you grin, tongue swirling caramel goodness.

“yeah?” he snickers. “can’t blame you. i’m the ultimate catch—tall, funny, handsome.”

you roll your eyes, watching as he leans against the glass perpendicular to the doors. he stands closer when the doors on the opposite open. you raise your fists up in front of you. “i’ll have you catch these hands.”

“you could have just told me you wanted to hold hands, babe,” he chuckles, grabbing your right one and leaving a quick kiss on your forehead.

“don’t twist my words,” you grumble. your words are half spoken into his chest when he presses closer as a businessman squeezes by.

“oh, don’t worry.” he winks. “i know you and i have other plans for these hands later.”

you snort. “yeah, prayer.”

｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ

issei leans back against the couch, tilting over onto the arm to rest his head as he settles into his food coma.

“issei, come back and have some marinated duck!”

he groans a little, telling his grandmother that he’d be over soon. though he could eat a lot, the walls of his stomach could never defeat nor contain the power of his grandmother.

he decides it’s a great time to take a picture of his extended stomach and send it to you.

>> (05:47) babe >> (05:47) [img.png] >> (05:48) i’m expecting

>> (05:51) what the Hell >> (05:52) tw: mpreg

>> (05:53) did you just trigger warning me?

>> (05:53) yes

>> (05:54) damn >> (05:55) well I don’t need this negativity in my life >> (05:55) relationships r built on mutual respect >> (05:56) I’ve told u I love you what more do u want

>> (05:57) nudes

>> (05:57) 😔😢😢

>> (05:58) here’s one of mine >> (05:58) [img.png] >> (05:59) 🥰❤️❤️❤️

he’s never sat up so fast in his life.

“issei, are you coming?”

he bites his tongue. “yes, grandma.”

｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ

he comes back home to you two days later. he drops his bags on his bedroom floor and is about to run out the house to yours when his mom yells at him from the kitchen, “issei, sort through your things before you go!”

his shoulders slump and his head hangs but he gets it done and then he’s off.

>> (02:12) I’m home 😎😎💩 >> (02:12) wait ididnt mean the poo emoji

>> (02:13) welcome home 🌸

>> (02:13) Open the door

you do, though it takes you a millisecond too long but he’s not going to gripe too much about it. he engulfs you in a hug the moment he sees you and nearly knocks your cell phone onto the pavement. your arms automatically go behind him. swaying, you stay there, sun shining and leaving an orange tint behind when you close your eyes.

“welcome back, ‘sei.” you nuzzle your head into his. “how was your grandma’s?”

he mumbles something but doesn’t make any effort to move. not wanting to attract stares, you slowly waddle backwards to get him through the front door. on your third step back, he just picks you up and does it himself before closing the door behind him and returning to his original position.

“‘sei,” you drawl out. “my back huurts.”

he pulls back the slightest, eager to see you up close yet wanting to keep you close. “i just wanted to hug you, is that so bad?”

“bedroom” is all you say. he frowns but lets you take him there anyways.

you sit on the bed and pat the space next to you. he instead opts to kneel down on the floor and rest his head on your thighs.

“‘sei?”

“grandma’s was good,” he murmurs, eyes closing when you run a hand through his curls. “thank you for the nude.”

you laugh and he takes the chance to get up and pull you into bed with him. he rolls you on top of him, brushing your hair away and cupping your face to pull you in for a kiss. his tongue is warm, soft, lax and you melt into him, onto him.

“wait,” he mutters.

“hm? something wrong?” you lean up a bit.

“i left your food at my place. my grandma made you some.”

you hum, leaving kisses on his jaw and swinging your legs. “we can go over later. kiss me more, please?”

he grins. “thought you’d never ask, babe.”

#matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu

165 notes · View notes

binxyu · 3 years

Text

Being an agent undercover was difficult enough but it being with Jung Hoseok- that was a whole other story. Of course, you expected for him to catch feelings for you because that was part of the plan- but getting a tattoo just to say you were his property? That was definitely not part of the plan.

>>Pairing: Jung Hoseok (dom) x fem!reader (sub) | mafia!hoseok x secret agent!reader

>>Word Count: 2.7k

>>Genre: Oneshot / Smut

>>Warnings/Kinks: Gun play/penetration, knives, murder, manipulation, mentions of drugs, blood, tattoos/needles, branding, creampie, oral (giving), overstimulation, fingering, unprotected sex, humiliation, mirrors, double penetration, and scratching

You had been working alongside Hoseok for months now. You were now his most trusted subject and you became that through murdering whoever he chose, sexual manipulation, and having the ability to figure out anyone you were supposed to.

Hoseok was referred to as ‘The Heir’ by your police department. This was because no officers dared to call him by his real name. They knew they wouldn’t live long if one of Jung’s, what they called Hoseok’s father, men found out about that.

Hoseok was the heir to one of the most notorious crime families in the country. Well, more like the world. The Jung family has been responsible for the exportation of millions of drugs and weapons, the murder of thousands, and so much more. Yet, your department could never seem to get enough evidence to put them in jail since Jung would just bribe them out of it.

That’s why you were sitting beside Hoseok at this exact moment. You were supposed to be the one to get that evidence that was needed to put their asses in prison for life. However, you hated to admit that you were growing rather fond of Hoseok.

He really was charming for a psychotic serial killer with an army of men waiting for any order he may give.

“Okay y/n, I think it’s finally time I give you what you deserve”, your head tilted at Hoseok’s words. You two had just escaped an ambush and Hoseok was more than pleased with how well you protected him. You saved his life and for no payment.

“What I deserve?”, you asked as Hoseok put his arm around your shoulder. You couldn’t help but have certain thoughts run through your head and your cheeks went red.

“What my father requested you get. The mark of the Jung family”, you realized what he was referring to immediately. The tattoo that every member of the Jung empire. You had seen enough members to know the tattoo was a dagger with the initials of Hoseok’s father engraved on the handle.

“Oh, I see”, you simply answered as the limo parked. You got out first and held the door open for the man. Hoseok got out and thanked you, adjusting his luxurious suit that had had blood smeared across the front of it just yesterday. Now, it seemed good as new and you wondered when he had managed to get it clear.

That question didn’t last long because it was replaced with the question of who was going to give you this tattoo? Could you trust them?

Don’t be stupid. If Hoseok wanted you dead then you would be by now.

You calmed down and followed Hoseok, noticing a rather young man staring at the two of you.

“Boss! It’s been a while”, the young man greeted Hoseok, looking beyond happy to see him.

“Hello Han”, Hoseok smiled softly back and you never failed to be surprised when that smile appeared. It was so rare and precious.

“The usual, sir?”, Han asked and you studied him curiously. You knew more than just tattoos took place here from just the sounds alone. The screams weren’t extremely loud but you could hear them from one specific room. You shook your head and didn’t focus on it.

“Yes, but I would like to add red on the end of the dagger. She looks good with red on her skin”, you knew what Hoseok was referring to. He had seen you plenty of times with blood on your skin. You knew he loved the sight.

“Like blood I’m assuming, sir?”, Hoseok nodded and Han gently hooked his arm with your’s and guided you to the chair for you to sit down in. A table with all the tools for the tattoo was beside the chair and you looked at it. Han looked at Hoseok.

“Make it right above her breast”, Hoseok walked over and unbuttoned the top few buttons of your blouse, tapping on your skin with the tip of your finger. Of course he would want it above your heart. The tattoo artist nodded and got the needle ready before he cleaned the area above your breast and put the outline for that tattoo on your skin.

You bit your lip and just looked at Hoseok to distract yourself as the needle started to dig slightly into your skin. It was painful, but it definitely wasn’t the worst pain you had ever felt.

“Is there anything I can do for you today?”, Han asked as he finished up the tattoo, putting the finishing touch on the blood dripping down the dagger. You looked down to see the crimson red.

It definitely looks like blood. I’m sure Han has seen his fair share of it too.

“Yes”, Hoseok paused as he moved his gaze from your eyes down to your hand that was resting on the arm of the chair, “I want to put a tattoo myself” Han looked a little taken aback but he nodded after he was finished and moved out of the way.

“Another one?”, you asked curiously, tilting your head a little as Hoseok sat on the stool that Han was previously sitting at. He hummed and started to prepare the black ink he was going to use.

“The dagger shows you belong to my father. I want something on your skin that is a permanent reminder that you are mine too”, you blushed at his words, a little taken aback as the needle pricked your skin again. You just watched as Hoseok’s fingers gently held your own in place so the letters would not be ruined.

S. L. U. T.

You read each letter individually in your mind until you realized what it said. Across your knuckles read the word ‘slut’.

“S-slut?’‘, you mentally cursed yourself for stuttering and Hoseok chuckled.

“Mhm. I know you like being called it and that’s what I call you. It suits you”, he leaned closer to your ear and whispered, “my pretty slut. Maybe we should get out of here and make use of that tattoo, hmm?”.

You gulped and nod, shivers going up your spine from the feeling of his cold breath against your ear.

“Thank you, Han. We’ll be on our way now”, Hoseok helped you up off the chair before he started to button your blouse back up, his fingers ghosting over the dagger on your chest. Only the tip of the dagger was visible after he was done and you looked over at Han.

You started to dig for your wallet, ready to pay the man but he gently put his hand around your wrist to stop you.

“No, it’s okay. Any friend of the boss is on the house”, if you didn’t know better, you would say Han was an innocent and charming young man, but you did know better. He had probably seen more death than you had.

“Thank you”, you returned his bright smile with your own before Hoseok took your hand in his own and guided you out of the building.

“I should’ve asked for you to have baby written on your knuckles so people know you belong to me too”, you joked quietly and giggled. Hoseok looked at you and opened the door to the limo.

“You think I belong to you?”, he asked, an eyebrow raised teasingly and you smirked as you moved to get into the vehicle first.

“Oh, I know you do”, you whispered into his ear and sat down in your seat. He looked taken aback but got in beside you, your words replaying in his mind as you two rode in silence back to the penthouse.

“Come on, let’s have some fun”, Hoseok quickly dragged you out of the vehicle once you got to the building. Hoseok’s bodyguards allowed you in and you two went into the elevator. His penthouse was on the top floor of the building and you had always wondered what was found on the other levels, but you never asked. It wasn’t your place to.

The elevator door opened and you walked inside the penthouse, going to sit on the bed across the room since you assumed that’s exactly where Hoseok would eventually lead you anyways.

“I do think you deserve to be rewarded, y/n”, Hoseok takes off his leather gloves and sets them on the kitchen counter before he walks over to where you were and lifted your head up to look at him with his finger that was under your chin.

“For what, Hoseok?”, you tried to keep your voice steady despite the wetness gathering between your legs.

“For staying by my side and doing what I ask. We’re going to kill anyone that stands against us, isn’t that right?”, you quickly nodded and moved back on the bed so Hoseok could crawl onto it.

“C-could I reward you first? I feel like you could use it”, you softly smiled and Hoseok smiled back, slowly nodding since he had never been asked such a thing. You put your hands on his chest and pushed him to lay down on the bed. Hoseok looked up at the mirror on the ceiling and watched your reflection as you started to unbutton his clothes for him and toss the fabric to the floor.

“I’ll be your good slut master”, you saw the man get significantly harder from your words and you smiled before you started to wrap your mouth around his cock. You took as much of him into your mouth as you could and wrapped your hand around the rest. Hoseok moaned at the sight of your head bobbing up and down on his dick and your hand with the tattoo pumping the base of it.

“Fuck, that looks so amazing”, he groaned and you took that as encouragement to continue what you were doing, moving a little faster. Hoseok’s hand trailed down to your jeans and he started to unbutton them, pushing his hand into your panties when they were visible. You moaned around his cock and rocked your hips against his finger when he started to rub your clit with it.

Hoseok’s moans became louder from the vibrations and he pushed two of his fingers inside of your dripping wet cunt. You whimpered from the stretch and started to bounce your hips to ride his fingers as you hallowed your cheeks to suck him off better.

You knew you really did look like a whore right now and you loved it. The knowledge that slut was inked into your knuckles and that those knuckles were jerking Hoseok off was enough to make a loud moan spill from your lips. Hoseok’s gripped your hair with his free hand and started to force your head down further, making you choke on his dick and you gasped for air.

“Don’t be pathetic slut. I don’t care if you’re choking, keep going”, you held back the tears threatening to spill from your eyes and started to move your head again as you speed up your hips when Hoseok added another finger. He curled them against your walls when you sank back down onto them and the sensation caused your legs to shake. His fingers were easily knuckle deep.

Hoseok’s grip tightened in your hair even more and you knew he was close. He came down your throat and you swallowed all of his seed like he had taught you. He gripped your hip with his free hand and turned you onto your back, making it easier for him to help you finish too. His fingers started to thrust much faster than before and you desperately gripped his arm as your legs shook more, your nails digging into his skin.

You came around Hoseok’s fingers with a loud moan of his name. He smirked and brought his finger out of your panties to lick them. The sight made your eyes widen as his cheeks hallowed and he sucked on the digit, cleaning it completely of your cum. He removed the rest of your clothes entirely and you looked up at the mirror, waiting for his next move.

“I know you’ve wanted to try this for a long time. I could tell by how you look at it when I’m cleaning it”, you watched cautiously as Hoseok went over to where his jacket was lying on the floor and retrieved his pistol from the pocket. That’s when it hit you what he was referring to. You knew you had fantasized about Hoseok using a gun for your pleasure before, but you never expected him to realize you did.

“Hmm, what to do with you?”, he asked himself and trailed the gun down your chest, the cold metal against your bare skin causing you to let out a soft moan. You honestly felt a little scared but you were quickly reassured when Hoseok pulled the trigger and only a puff of air came out.

“P-please fuck me with it master”, you begged and the man chuckled at how desperate you were to have anything inside of you. Hoseok cleaned the barrel of the gun and you watched his hands move up and down it with a rag. He moved the tip of the gun in circles around your hole, causing you to clench around nothing in anticipation.

Slowly, the barrel of the gun was being pushed inside of you and you watched the reflection in the mirror as the top of the gun slowly disappeared inside of you. You looked down and saw the tip bulged in your stomach, making your mouth fall open in pain and pleasure.

“It fits so perfectly”, Hoseok commented before he started to thrust the barrel in and out of you. You clenched around the metal with a loud moan and gripped the sheets.

“Pull the trigger! Please!”, you moaned out and Hoseok nodded before he slowly pulled the trigger of the pistol. The rush of air made your back arch and the sight of you squirming and moaning from his pistol caused Hoseok to groan too. He moved the gun a little more to the side and slowly pushed himself inside of you too.

You screamed a little from the stretch, tears prickling your eyes and you whimpered loudly. Hoseok kissed your face gently, easing you into the feeling by slowly moving the weapon and his hips. As he sped up, your moans got louder and louder to the point that Hoseok had to cover your mouth with his free hand and he noticed something laying in your pile of clothes.

“Shhh slut. Take it like a good girl and be quiet”, you breathed heavily and whined as you tried your best to nod. The overstimulation was causing your second orgasm to come much faster and your legs were beginning to cramp.

Hoseok groaned as his cock rubbed against the barrel inside of you, the cold metal was a pleasant sensation he hadn’t felt before. He was going to cum soon too.

“Cum with your master, okay?”, Hoseok spoke softly and you nodded so he moved his hand away from your mouth. He counted down and you both came on three, your cum mixing inside of you before Hoseok pulled the gun out and watched his cum flow out of you.

He moved to lay beside you and pulled you into his arms, gently stroking your hair. You tried to catch your breath and relaxed in his embrace.

“I love you”, the words surprised you to say the least and fear struck your heart as you thought about what to say in response.

Is this a test? Do I love him back?

I do.

“I love you too”, your words came out clear enough for you to know you weren’t lying.

“Then why did you betray me?”, Hoseok pointed to the burner phone next to your jacket on the floor and your eyes went wide at the sight of it. You forgot to toss it out after you called your department earlier that day with information.

“I-I can e-explain”, you mentally cursed yourself out for stuttering.

“What a shame. I really did like you”, he pressed a knife against your neck and looked at the word across your knuckles.

Slut.

148 notes · View notes

everafterkeiji · 3 years

Text

Song: Getting Over You by Lauv

Summary: Unexpected things happen all the time but meeting him was one of the best parts of it.

Pairings: Atsumu Miya x gn!reader

Word count: 7.1k

Tags, Genre: implied enemies to semi lovers! trope, slight angst, curse words, timeskip! Atsumu

A/N: pls i didn't intend to change it last minute but pls let me know if u liked it cuz im still having second thoughts <3

“No- I’m sorry.” Atsumu says as you felt your heart snap and break into two distant pieces. You already limited your expectations but there was a miniature amount of hope that you held onto and that was when you should’ve lost your grip.

“It’s fine, ‘Tsumu.”

It obviously wasn’t. No matter how loud the cries of your heart were, what mattered to you in this moment was to forget it ever happened- to run away and never face another failed trial of love. Atsumu can see past your smile and he hated the way it had to end in a way he avoided. There would be a time where his feelings would be up to confrontation but when it finally happened, he’d became a coward.

He was late to realize what the outcomes could lead to. How certain was he that your paths would meet again? How was he sure that he can revert this scenario in a better way that he wanted when you were losing your hold onto him?

“I have to go but it was nice knowing you, Miya.” Your lips were tugged in a weak smile while he questions why his body lacked the power to move but what resumes to play in his mind was the way his name escaped your lips like it was a curse to say it.

Turning your heel, there was an ache in Atsumu’s head. Was it regret? His decisions tied in knots? His emotions unable to declutter themselves? Hesitantly, he reaches for you. His hand wrapped around yours as you glanced down on his soft skin you used to despise to get near to.

His eyes told you stories that were hard to decipher all at once. His stories didn’t start with a setting, it started and ended with you, not a single page where you weren’t there but it seems like the chapters you had in your own story were being torn off to erase the traces of false hope.

“Y/N, I'm so sorry.” He whispers while you felt his hand tighten to make sure that you could stay- even if it lasted for a minute because he wasn’t sure fate could spare you two another moment.

But then, you softly removed his hold on you while the cold sweat runs down his forehead.

“It’s okay, ‘Tsumu. We were just never meant for each other.”

We could’ve been.

“Thank you for your time.” You bid the player as both bow each other as a way of manner. You gathered your bag as the athlete turns to you with a kind smile.

“I enjoyed the interview. I’m impressed at how prepared and professional you are. How long have you been doing this?” He asks, adjusting his outfit while you toss your bag on your shoulder with your camera slung around your neck.

“There was a journalism club back in my high school and I joined in ever since I was a first year.”

“You’re in college now?”

“Yes, sir.” He chuckles at your formality while he gives a pat to your shoulder.

“That’s good to hear. Goodluck with everything- I believe that you’ve got bright things ahead of you.” Your heart fluttered at the compliment while you bid your goodbyes. You step out of the hotel feeling the satisfaction hit you like a prize. The report can finally be simplified into a few more subtle fixes and maybe by 1am, you’d be able to present it to your professor without doubting your work.

Sighing happily, you decided to reward yourself to a lovely lunch with a view you often visited due to a reminiscent feeling that bubbles in your system. After ordering, you sat outside admiring the way the sun sets and leaves a lasting beauty before the moon shows.

The stress was fading from you. You had expected that the project would’ve taken weeks for you to finish knowing that some retired athletes usually avoid questions to why they left the sport they used to love. You had called a few, a struck of confidence was enough to make you do so but they often cancel your request because they either paid attention to your young age or because they weren’t ready to be asked such personal questions about them. You were lucky to score and interview with a well-known athlete whose had his fair share of the spotlight during his early 20’s. Sadly, his retirement was due to an accident and his weak body levels couldn’t bare the adrenaline of the sport. He was kind, patient, and understanding. Ever since he agreed, your attention was on the questions you’d lay upon him seeing that this was an opportunity you can’t waste. After gathering some of his past glories, you narrowed down your interrogation on what remains important to benefit the topic of your project. You were more than proud because of the compliment he had given you and the fact that you might be able to catch a break after a hectic week.

Opening your camera and flicking through the photos to decide on which you were going to use. Suddenly, a photo meets your sight. The peak of blonde and gray hair with a uniform that you missed.

The Inarizaki Volleyball Team.

Most especially, him.

A few years has passed since you’ve seen him and his brother. Osamu’s last interaction with you was filled with nothing but sweet memories and a hug that you could never forget the warmth of, while Atsumu’s last memory with you remained bittersweet- like a sour flavor in his tongue that never left. You tried too hard to forget fragments of your time with him but because of how much work you put yourself through, you lost time to reflect on the moments that didn’t hurt.

Half of your high school life was compressed into confusing parts of your story.

But the chapter that seems to be the most influential part of it, was where you got to meet the blonde who has stomped on your heart.

It was funny to be remembered as a person who had the guts to sneeze during the great Miya setters serve.

“Achoo!”

You immediately cover your face with your handkerchief as your sneeze echoed through the gym making Atsumu’s hand lose its power because he was stunned by the sound, the ball hitting the net instead as he almost hits Aran who was wide eyed that ball went his way. The team could hear Osamu’s ‘uh-oh’ and it was enough for them to know what the setter feels after the unfortunate event.

Atsumu grits his teeth as the other team cheers knowing they got the score while his head jolts to the crowd, aggressively searching for the one who messed up his serve. Even eyeing his fans who got scared by the way he turned his head in their direction.

Meanwhile, you’ve got glares surrounding you as your friend nudges you, letting out an exhale of disbelief that you’ve got death stares.

“We’ll get the next point ‘Tsumu, don’t worry.” Osamu says landing a hand to his brothers' shoulder while Atsumu readies himself for the serve of the opposite team.

“Whatever.”

After that certain match, Atsumu was more than determined to hunt down whoever caused the flunk of his serve. Silly as it is, he’s never heard someone dare to speak during his serve. He’d always let out a hand signal for them to be quiet- let it be known that if someone spoke, he’d be fine with it but a whole sneeze? He’d never let it go, especially when it resonated in his ears.

So, imagine the look on his face when he hears the exact same sound when he was just stopping by his locker.

“Fucking dust.” You said sniffling as you closed the door to your locker, and you were face to face with a wide-eyed Miya Atsumu holding out his finger and pointing it to you, as if he was accusing you of murder.

“It’s you!” He shouts making you raise your eyebrow at him, but the raise of his voice had intimidated you.

“What?” You asked him, not finding a single clue on whatever he was pertaining to.

“You messed up my serve by sneezing.” He says in the tone of ‘as-a-matter-of-fact’ making you lick your lips, a hand to your hip as you looked at him.

“I’m not apologizing for something I can’t control.” You were completely baffled by this man. Sure, you were his classmate, but this was your first year and you barely cared to take notice of all of them, only focusing on your school group that had you busy.

“You could’ve held it for like 2 more seconds at least.” You blinked before letting out a tired exhale as you eye him up and down. The setter of the school's volleyball team, you were aware of that because of how many matches you’ve been dragged to, but he’s never come up to you before.

This was a whole other introduction.

“Miya, right?” You asked him as he steps forward, looking down on you with a sly smirk.

“I guess I’m sorry.”

Atsumu stays silent for a few seconds but returns to his angry pout as he continues to stare at you.

“What’s your name?” Atsumu asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Y/N.”

From thereon, it looked like your life’s plot had spiked up. Atsumu was- you could call it as a miscalculation. Someone so loud and had his ego constantly fed was not someone you would stick around due to your strict schedule of balancing schoolwork and papers from your club. It was like a bump in the road wherein the objects in your car would’ve been juggled around because of the impact- that's what it felt like. Thinking that two years would’ve passed by like a breeze, time slowed down with him. The constant bickering and arguments were embedded in you like a tattoo. The way his cackle would echo through your ears when he’d struck a nerve to you, the way he’d purposely call you nicknames you swore you hated, to the same jokes can be dragged on for hours, and how every fiber of your body promised you’d leave when you’ve had enough.

But promises were always broken.

You stuck around and he did too. Atsumu provided you with his trust and company whenever you needed it. It’s a pleasant experience but it surely wasn’t at its best. What comes with it were headaches and harsh words but having a person who knew you until graduation and stayed was a different reason. He was a familiar, a person who isn’t a call away when you needed it but being in their presence would give you a pinch of comfort.

Maybe the only thing you can thank Atsumu for is getting to know his twin brother.

You accidentally sent a text to Osamu about you panicking about a missing file to be passed the following day and Osamu was up and ready to help you locate it. After finding it, you decided to treat him for being a life saver and he of course, was having the time of his life for the free food- it was also his favorite restaurant at that moment. During this time, you’ve got to talk more about each other. Months pass now Osamu and you were way better friends than you and his brother.

You and Osamus’ bond were the type that was just so serene, hardly any type of judgement when you’d bring up a problem, and all secrets were kept tight.

Osamu was the shoulder you can lean on, while Atsumu’s would shove your head away when you do so.

Your friendship drifted away when Atsumu stabbed your heart with the words “No.” and “I’m sorry.” You hesitated that day, to dial Osamu’s phone the way you used to, but it never happened. Your sobs muffled your voice and if you called him, he’d never understand a word that you’d say.

The opposite is that Osamu would understand everything.

Because you and Atsumu mirrored the same amount of pain.

He’d never seen his brother so- ruined. Atsumu’s thin walls didn’t shield his shouts of sorrow while Osamu withstood every bit of the torture show his brother had. Checking him on the next day, the setter was fast asleep with bags under his eyes and a red nose, clutching onto his pillow so tightly.

Osamu knew that day that the damage has been done and not a single band aid would mend the two shattered hearts.

Atsumu strolls to the around looking for a restaurant along with his teammates. The sun has fully set making the streets of Japan light up with how busy and crowded they were. Bokuto and Hinata were busy pointing at stands that had their favorite slabs of meat while Sakusa trails behind them with a mask, wanting to be removed from the push of people. As the eyes of the blonde land on a certain stand with multiple notes stuck onto a board, he smiles fondly. He then sees two kids running with smiles on their lips as they held each other's hand, obviously excited to explore the night.

“Come on, don’t be a wuss.” Atsumu says as you rolled your eyes and thought hard about his hand that was held out in front of you. Atsumu grunts before taking your hand in his before you could even decide properly. You followed his lead as he walked you through the sea of people. You were nervous that he had left practice to accompany you. Observing you from afar, you looked devastated, but you continued the rest of the day with a smile like nothing happened. Seeing that you looked dull talking to Karou, he pulled you away from whatever void of sadness you surrounded yourself in.

“Atsumu shouldn’t you be at practice?” You asked sighing, still with his hand in yours as you stopped by a stand.

“I should be but whatever that Karou did is obviously hurting you, you idiot.” Your eyes widened at his statement and this reaction confirmed his suspicions as anger forms inside of him. What could that boy have done to get you this upset? Did he physically hurt you? Atsumu hated how he cared- it wasn’t his business to meddle with but the frown on your lips was something he wanted to remove from you.

“Thank you.” You muttered as he buys you the same thing he ordered. He sees how you weren’t as colorless as before. The lights of the night brought saturation to your features as his eyes adored every feature of yours.

“It’s nothing.”

“Atsumu-san?” Hinata asks, tapping the boy on the shoulder while the blonde awakens from his escape.

Atsumu looks around once more, seeing that there wasn’t a trace of you, he moves on.

Like he was supposed to do in the first place.

“For our new assignment, why don’t we take the vice versa of your last project. Retirement is inescapable but why not find the reason they’d got into the sport. What makes it so exhilarating and unforgettable? That will be our topic this week. I’m giving you a week for interviews, photos, and articles. Video format is more suited for this task. Is that clear?” You all nodded as you wrote down the list of possible athletes to meet, jotting down an outline of some key points to remember.

“A tip for you all: look for the younger generations. It doesn’t matter to me what status the athlete stands in right now, it could be a friend or even a child. What I’m looking for the depths of the details in your research.” The professor stands making all of you bid him goodbye as he walks out of the room. You gathered your notebooks, sighing that you won’t have the time to properly rest- an exam was near right at the submission of your new task. You realized that you needed to sort out the things you were required to do before everything would pile up and get tangled in the short amount of time.

Who should I interview? God, everyone is so busy at this season. You thought. It’s true- you realized that matches were always lined up by this month. You also had classes to attend to and your mind could collapse at any given moment. You were more than worried about organizing your time properly but the feeling that you’d have several sleepless nights haunts you. You wished he could have extended the submission- though it didn’t get any better since after exams you tended to be drained from studying all night.

Going back to your apartment, you decided to put sticky notes all over your wall to help you sort out your priorities. Tomorrow would be Saturday meaning that you’ve done all the works to be passed on Monday and that you had zero meetings or classes. Saturday and Sunday would be divided to work parts, by Monday you should be up and running to work again.

You couldn’t let go of this group. It had given you countless of opportunities- even an offering to be an editor at a well-known magazine agency. You were in queue for the letter, so you decided to continue with the tasks of the group. You were thankful that you got used to the craziness of it all. The ability to multitask, to put the phone down once in a while, managing your time, those were just one of the benefits of getting used to it. The things you hated was that you barely had time for yourself. To lounge and just do nothing never met with what you were doing. You envied how some people from your group would plan some hang outs during a busy week and you always questioned how they managed to do it all without panicking.

You yawned as you felt your stomach growl at the scent of the delicious street food. Seeing that you fell short on money because the amount that was in your wallet was enough for your way home, it meant you’d have to wait to eat dinner until you came home. Letting out a groan you decided to walk your way even if you get shoved. God, you were starving and exhausted. The emotions were starting to fill you the more you moved. It didn’t help that everyone was so loud. You could hear the sound of the cackles from the drunken men in the corner, the cries of the baby that brought irritation to your eardrums and even the off-key singing of a (possibly) drunk girl at karaoke. You just wanted to cover your ears and crawl back to your bed not caring if you’d only be able to get 2 or 3 hours of sleep.

As you walked, you felt a boiling pile of liquid drip to your stomach making you let out a yelp as your clothes were drenched in the coffee stain that you despised. The liquid got to your skin making you wince at just how it impacted on your skin. You felt your eyes water as the woman tried to pat away the drink but instead made it worse because you wanted the fabric to be away from you as possible- which was the opposite of what she was doing.

“Oh my god- I'm so sorry.” She kept saying while patting your abdomen while you tried to wave her off, but she kept going making the tears flow from your eyes as you chose to walk away, covering your face at how humiliated you were. You sobbed in your hands as you bumped into someone before removing them from your face to find a bench to sit on but seeing that people were already turning their heads to look at you, you’ve had enough already.

Finally finding your bus stop, you sat down burying your face in the palm of your hands sobbing as your mind replays how you’ve made a fool out of yourself for the last time. Everything was going terribly and you didn’t know how to control it without losing your cool. Sure, you’ve managed to escape the people but the feeling is still badly glued to you.

“Is everything okay?”

Someone asks but the voice became a blur to you because you were so focused on your sobs and the unstable breathing.

“Go away.” You whispered but there was a weight added to your left side as you kept your face hidden behind your hands.

“I shouldn’t have asked.” The man says looking down before standing up to leave the bench, making you intake in a sharp exhale, relieved he left.

“Why does everything have to be so fucking difficult? How am I gonna interview a volleyball player at this state?” You rambled on thinking that guy has exited your business and was free from companion.

“I mean- we’re not close- but I’m a volleyball player?”

You wiped your eyes as your heart started to run a mile now that you’ve familiarized yourself with his voice.

Lifting your head, there in front of you was the one thing that your heart had wished to see.

“Atsumu?”

His eyes widen as his chest expands, his heart growing ten times bigger than it was while it beats like a drum on heavy metal song.

“Y/N- I didn’t know- wow.” Breathless, speechless, weak- those were the words that defined your emotions. You wanted to pass out- to act like you just mistaken him for a person but he was real and you had a hard time believing it.

“Atsumu?" God, he missed it. The way his name would fall of those taunting lips of yours. The tone in your voice leading him back to the memories that he couldn’t push away.

You had to believe it. There was no other way that your starvation can make you this delusional. You called his name like you were unsure that he was ever real- like a character your brain had developed to cope with your sorrows. You dared to touch him, maybe if you did it would be a wisp of air but you were scared that if you reached out to him, you could feel his skin and remember how you wanted it to be within your grasp all the time.

Perhaps it’s a dream but this time you’d never want to wake up if this was the only way you can be together.

“Y/N..I- how are you?” How could he manage to act so civil? Your presence shocked him like electricity in his veins, pumping his heart at an unusual speed. His voice was unsteady and low, experiencing the same thoughts like you.

It’s like he was dragged back to your last encounter. Seeing your eyes filled with so much agony and how you looked so torn from his rejection, it’s the same look that you had now. It’s like his eyes were playing a risky game with him but he couldn’t complain since he’s been wanting to see you ever since you let go.

“Well, I’m burned-out that’s for sure.” You said with a light chuckle as he sits back down, wondering if it’d be alright to be close to you.

“What’s this interview about?” He asks, fiddling with the strings of his jacket while you tore your eyes away from him because you knew the admiration for him would erupt anytime soon.

“What got athletes into the sport in the first place.” Atsumu places his finger under his chin, thinking deeply about what offer he just made.

It’d mean that he could be in the same room with you for more than the hours he spent crying to himself but why waste the chance? You needed it- heck you wouldn’t be this distraught if you weren’t so affected by it. There was a never-ending list of things to do but meeting with Atsumu wasn’t even in your list of expectations because you were over with hoping into something that takes a miracle.

But he is the miracle.

“Atsumu..I don’t want you to see me like this.” You said, looking down on your hands that were on your lap, letting your hair fall in front of you to avoid his concerned gaze.

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t seen you in years, this is not what I planned to look like when I first see you.” Atsumu feels his heart frown at how low you spoke of yourself, but he understood. If you saw him in the state that you were in right now, he too would feel like he could’ve done or look better, even at least handle the situation without crumbling apart.

He knew you were in a troubled place of your mind but he just wonders where you could talk about why everything fell apart.

He missed the way it was casual to talk to you. Maybe an insult as a greeting, or a flick to the arm but he never expected to talk to you with his heart dropping in your hands. He just couldn’t forget the way you’d let him go that day during graduation, it’s almost like the sensation was still lingering around his palm even if he held a ball.

He just wished he said yes, only then, you’d be meant for each other.

“Do you mean it?” You asked sighing, not baring the weight of his silence. The pace of his heart quickens as he starts to worry if this was the confrontation that he held back all these years.

“The interview.” He was more than glad to do it. He was thankful that you weren’t talking about the bad memories or the circle of tension you two were in.

He looks at you while another strike was given to his heart seeing you this way. He’d do everything to bring back the color in your features.

“Of course.”

You smiled at his words as you both stand up but you felt conscious about the stain that was still stuck to your shirt making you desperately try to hide it by pulling your bag to the messed up section. Atsumu didn’t know that the person he had followed was the same person that got coffee dipped down on them. He didn’t recognize you at first because you had your hands covering your cries. He was worried for you when you ran off but when he knew it was you, he couldn’t believe if it was luck or a granted wish.

“Just wear this.” He says, handing you placing his jacket on your shoulders as your heart flutters at how he looked at you, completely filled with sincerity and the way his hand stayed on your shoulder.

“What the fuck do you want?” He asks you with a knife-like stare, purposely bumping harshly into you.

“Wow Miya, I was just walking.” You said returning the same fuel that he had.

“Then get out of my way then.”

“Thank you.” You said smiling lightly. He catches a glimpse of your smile and he feels his world light up at the sight of it.

I missed you.

“So where to?” He asks as you walk beside him just like old times. His height still intimidating you but it was still difficult to believe that this was the same Atsumu you had fallen for in high school.

“My apartment. We missed the bus so I hope it’s okay for you to wait.”

“I can always drive us there.” You’ve never whipped your head faster than this moment. You always trusted Osamu when he said that Atsumu couldn’t be a better driver than his own brother because Atsumu liked to rev up the engine like one of those scenes in a movie.

With the thought in your mind, you laughed.

Atsumu stops walking as he lets himself dwell at the sound of it.

Then there was a smile that he couldn’t contain.

“Sorry for laughing, ‘Tsumu. Never pictured you to have a car earlier than ‘Samu that’s all.” You explained as he chuckles, continuing to be beside you, a place that he finds himself to be the happiest.

“Yeah yeah I get it- I’m a little careless but not all the time y’know?” He says while he leads the way. The breeze felt comfortable now, it had a tweak of coldness but maybe it was just the atmosphere of you two.

When you walked to his car and told him your address, there was another silence but you tried to tell yourself that this was just Atsumu. Nothing to be worried about because you’ve known him for too long to act like all distant.

This is Atsumu- that's every reason that there is to feel nervous around him.

“How long have you been living there?” He asks while you started to feel just how badly you wanted to give in to sleepiness. You shifted once in a while to control yourself from falling asleep in his damn car. Every urge to just lay quiet for a while but you knew this would lead to a deep slumber.

“Ever since graduation.” You answered, annoyed that his jacket was inviting you to lay there and sleep away your stress though you were scared that once you wake up- Atsumu would be gone again.

“And you didn’t call to tell me about it?” He jokes but the chuckle that he expected never came because he knew just how awkward it’d be if you actually called just for that sole reason. Atsumu bites his lip at his failed attempt to drag the conversation on.

Then you giggled.

“I wanted to but I wouldn’t wanna bother the famous MSBY player.” You said smiling at him, proud that he continued on. You knew from Osamu of course, a single update when he had mentioned how well his restaurant had become, you also saw them in a poster once, even recognizing a few of his past opponents.

“Well, it would be a shame.”

There you are.

You finally arrived at your apartment and again you felt the slice of satisfaction as you removed your shoes and placed them on the table. You were partly thankful that your apartment was clean since you never have the time to spend a whole day in it only coming home late at night. Atsumu looks around as you prepare him a drink and a few snacks-it'd be rude not to.

Atsumu sees the photos where you won several awards for your loyalty and hardwork at your club. He sees how time passes and you grew into a version of you that he finds even more flawless then before. Your equipment and how everything was organized on your desk, he knew how much things changed because he used to see you doubt yourself every time you’d finish a paper but now you won awards because of them.

“Atsumu, is it alright if I shower real fast?” You asked while he raises a brow at you confused that you had to ask for his permission.

“Of course, Y/N- you didn’t have to ask.” He said chuckling while he sits on the couch, letting his eyes wonder around.

“I promise I’ll be back.”

“Please don’t rush yourself. Take yer time. “ He says while you smile at him before dashing to your room to gather new clothes, feeling like you’ve won a lottery with how happy you were to remove the coffee drenched top, tossing it to your laundry bin while you step into the shower enjoying the way the water decorated your skin, cleansing it from all the worries. While Atsumu scrolls on his phone to ease himself from the anxiousness. His finger would casually glide over Osamu’s phone number, to ask him what to do.

After a few minutes, you stepped out of the shower like a whole new person. You saw the way Atsumu’s eyes lit up when you walked in but you pushed the thought away. He pats the seat next to him while you grabbed your notebook and pen, ready to scribble down the questions.

“Are there any uncomfortable questions you’d want to avoid?” You asked him while he shakes his head while you took note of the possible questions.

“Is it okay for the interview to be filmed?” He nodded while you leaned onto the pillow, sighing happily at how you’ve managed to calm down from the pile of embarrassment earlier.

“Thank you for doing this, ‘Tsumu- really you don’t know how much I appreciate you for this.” You said leaning your cheek on the side of the couch as Atsumu copies your actions staring at you lovingly.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” He says smiling while you returned to write a list of questions for him. With every time you look down on your notebook, Atsumu’s eyes never left you while his mind recalls every moment where he msised the opportunity to tell you just how beautiful you were.

Soon, you’ve fallen asleep while he lets the feeling sink in.

I’ve never wanted to hold you more than I do now.

He sighs before placing the blanket on your body while he kneels down and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, his finger tracing your cheek.

“You’ll never know how much I missed you.” He whispers while you shifted in your sleep meeting his face. Before he stands up, he feels you reach for him while he’s left surprise at your touch.

“Stay please.” You whispered while he smiles weakly, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I always will.”

The morning comes and you felt the blush creep on your cheeks remembering how easily you felt asleep. You wondered if Atsumu stayed, if he left- you couldn’t really blame him. So yawning and stretching when you woke up, you certainly didn’t expect to see Atsumu cooking you some breakfast. You couldn’t even move your legs, every part of you has gone stiff just admiring the way he moves.

“Hey, good morning.” He greets with a wave, a spatula in his hand, a bright smile tugged on his lips.

“Atsumu- oh god I’m so sorry.” You said as you went to him. You caught a whiff of what he was cooking and you swore you could’ve drooled knowing you didn’t even got the chance to eat dinner. Atsumu knew that of course so he called Osamu up in the morning to serve you the best breakfast he could ever make. He was initially supposed to make you dinner but you fell asleep before he could do it so this was his rebound.

“Idiot, it’s fine. Just sit down on the table and I’ll prepare the food.”

“Atsumu-“

“Just go, Y/N. I promise it’s okay- you deserve to rest before you work again.” You couldn’t even think properly with his words. It was so minimum but it was something you’d forget to do- rest. Hearing him remind you that sets a new feeling in your system. You did obey him though, you sat on the table as he even handed you coffee for him and you, placing the breakfast on the table. God, he was everything. You thought that after a few years, you two would completely drift apart but it seems like you were wrong for the hundredth time.

“Please don’t even think about ways to thank me, it’s nothing to me. “ He says taking the seat next to you while you place the food on his plate. You couldn’t even utter a word at how grateful you were for him and he’d be happy to get used to seeing you first thing in the morning.

“Atsumu, after breakfast can we have a run down of the questions first?” You asked him, growing more comfortable.

“Yeah sure.”

You sat on the couch, placing your camera on the table aligning it to the best possible angle as Atsumu sits down in front of you. You had your notebook on your lap as he praises how you looked so professional even if it was just a practice.

“Ready?” You asked while he nods with a smile as you pressed the camera to shoot so you could keep your composure, even if you struggled to.

“What does the sport mean to you?” You asked him, your eyes glimmering with the suns rays hitting it perfectly, while the words were removed from Atsumus mind. Seeing his hesitation, you decided to reassure him.

“It’s fine if you can’t answer straight away. I can always change the question if you like.” You commented, smiling at him to make sure he doesn’t feel rushed to answer. He nods, still not finding the exact same words to describe what he wanted to say.

“I’ll change the question for now.” You said while he let’s out a sigh before listening to you once again.

“What was the biggest struggle in your career?” He sends you a worried stare but his mind nearly bursts at his answer.

“Getting over you.”

You dropped your pen on the couch as Atsumu continued to speak since this was the answer his heart was sure of responding to.

“I tried to forget- I did. For every year that passes, the more fucking harder it gets to act like I didn’t love you back when you walked away.”

“Atsumu-“

“I know I said no- I was too late to realize how stupid I was to be scared of falling for you. I couldn’t let myself be the man who could love you when all this time I tried to hate you because I knew I would hurt you- and I already did.”

We get hurt a lot but it doesn’t mean I won’t come back to you.

Love grew and died during your second year at Inarizaki.

Before Atsumu, you found Karou. A boy who was a new recruit to your group whose helped you multiple times and has shared a conversation with you about your similar likes. There was this strange infatuation with him that even Osamu had to question how deep was the bite of love on you. You’ve fallen, of course. Occasionally leaving notes on his desk to just let him know how he made your day but it never worked. He would only paste the note on another persons desk like it was nothing. Not even getting the reaction you wanted, it felt too normal when it shouldn’t be. Realizing how this was just rejection in the shadows, you gave up. Obviously heart broken at the mere thought of how your chances were blown away. When Atsumu saw how gloomy you were that day, he had to show you how much you didn’t need Karou and there grew a different bond between the both of you.

And with a bond like that, you became attached to him.

It was all becoming clearer and clearer as you realized that you fell for the wrong person first.

“You’re too stupid to fall for a douche like him. “ He says kicking the rock that was in front of him.

“You’re lucky with that admirer of yours, Miya. I’ve never seen someone stick around you for so long.” You teased. It’s true the half of the twin hearthrob has gotten himself a sincere admire. It wasn’t one of his crazy fans- this was a person who genuinely cared for him and the words on every note he received would make the poor boy blush uncontrollably and you envied how he’s yet to realize that he too was falling for this unknown person.

While you two were oblivious to the slip up of the universe, it took a toll on you.

Because the notes you’d leave on Karous desk, always ended up on Atsumu’s instead.

“I wanna meet them so bad. Just to see if they actually care and it’s not a prank. They haven’t given me a note and it’s been what a month? I doubt it was ever real.”

“With the amount of effort they gave, I’m sure it was real.”

It’s real for me even if it shouldn’t be.

There wasn’t any other way then to accept the feelings that stayed on your skin. The moments where you thought that being around Atsumu would bring you stressful banters and more, it turned into butterflies that surrounded your room. You chose to deny it at first but remembering that graduation and good-byes were near, you had to tell him at some point.

And when you did, you poured your heart out and not even a single drop was caught.

“Last words before I forget your dumbass?” He taunts while you felt your sweat drip down the side of your forehead as you couldn’t control it anymore. You wondered if there was a simple word to describe just how much you adored him without turning it into a whole speech. This was it- you had to do it or else you’d end up being stuck on the feeling of loving him.

“I..like you Atsumu and I can’t say good-bye without telling you.”

Then there was the awful silence that he gave making you clutch onto your shirt, preparing you for the worst.

But by the way he looked so terrified and frozen, you knew.

“Atsumu?”

“No- I’m sorry.”

“And I don’t know what I’d do if I let you leave again.” He whispers as he leans closer to you, taking your hands in his while your ability to speak has been taken away by how gentle he was as his thumb caresses your hand and a look that looked so fragile.

He takes his hand and cups your cheek, pulling you close to him as his vulnerability increases.

“Do you feel the same too?” He was being so careful because a wrong choice of a word could make it all fall apart again and you could feel how tense he was but he holds you like a gem- something so beautiful that it’d cost him his life if he ever dropped you.

Your hand lands on the same hand that was on your cheek while Atsumu’s eyes widen remembering how you neglected to hold his hand before.

But it stayed.

Closing your eyes and melting in his touch, you spoke.

“I never stopped loving you, Atsumu.”

He lets his forehead rest on yours, a smile on his lips, who was soon to be on yours.

“Then be mine all over again.”

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#miya atsumu #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x reader #hq atsumu #msby atsumu #atsumu imagines #miya osamu #inarizaki

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tarithenurse · 3 years

Text

To the point - 3

Pairing: au!Satoru Gojō x fem!reader Content: All the smut. Add a pinch of dom/sub, a drizzle of bondage, sweeten with pain, let it simmer for a moment. No proofing. A/N: Third and final chapter...and longer than expected.

3. Point taken

I should not have done that. Walking towards your last appointment, you’re not worrying about the floofy, pastel coloured dress you’re wearing (although it’s not your usual go-to style) but what’s underneath it. No one can see it: hidden beneath the almost knee-long, flowy skirt and the silken panties hides the result of a great deal of work that you never had expected to get done. I should. Not. Have done that. But you can’t undo it.

Face glowing hot, you try to ignore the reflection in the glass door as you enter the tattoo parlour. There’s no one around at the front. No sign of other customers in any of the two small rooms...at least it doesn’t seem so judging by the lack of sounds.

“Mind locking and turning the sign?” Gojō’s voice calls from behind the curtain at the left cubicle.

A muted, little croak is the only answer you can offer aside from doing as asked. Get yourself together! The mirrored motion of straightening up, pushing the shoulders back, catches your eye once more. Not bad, if you do say so yourself. Almost...innocent looking. That, of course, would be a lie and knowing that emboldens you enough to keep your head high as you pass the curtain.

“Well, hell-ooo,” Gojō purrs at the sight, eyes travelling over your form appreciatively.

It should have been you saying something to showcase the amazement you feel: everywhere are candles and flowers, in a corner is a beautifully painted box (closed and absolutely curiosity inducing), and music is flowing from Satoru’s docked phone.

He can see enough without the electric lights on? That’s when it hits you that he isn’t wearing the usual sunglasses. Perhaps he’s sensitive to the light. Why’ve I never asked?

“Hop up, princess.”

Technically, he partially lifts you up, large hands wrapping around your waist only to slide down slowly along your thighs before guiding your legs apart and into place. His fingers are hot against your flesh, as he rests your left leg in the cradle. Crystalline gaze tracking the shift of the skirt as it falls towards your hip, baring the work in progress.

“Perhaps -” he pecks a kiss to the inside of your knee -”we should take some precautions this time?”

There’s barely enough air in your lungs to answer. “Such as?”

Gojō grins wickedly. “Getting rid of these.” He curls the fingertips up under the dress, hooking onto the edge of the panties. “Would be a shame to ruin them.”

And then you remember and you catch his hands in yours. “I...I...don’t know if...ermm...”

“So shy, princess. Well...I guess it’s only fair that you aren’t the only one on display.”

And true to his words, he pulls off the t-shirt to grant you with a delicious view – there really is no better word to describe the lithe, muscular build. He isn’t bulky, but each muscle is clearly defined and makes your imagination’s creativity pale. You’re too distracted to notice where he drops the shirt. But you do see his hands go for the button and fly of his jeans and your pussy does respond to the view as he reveals himself fully for the first time, confirming the suspicion from the night you danced with him.

“Better, sweetie?” He saunters back between your legs, each movement enthralling and full of confidence.

Nothing stops you, as you sit up to reach out. Fingertips softly trace the lines of his body and turning him around. There’s a fairly big tattoo on his back and it takes a moment before your can extricate your focus from the individual strokes (symbols) of the pattern to see that the whole makes out wings that move with his shoulders and shoulder blades. It could have been tacky. It is ethereal.

“Like what you see?” He flexes cheekily, a goofy grin banishing the rest of the awkwardness you had accumulated over the last days.

“Oh yes.”

A large hands splays over your pussy, thumb rubbing your inner thigh and sending sparks to your abdomen, your chest. Then it’s gone, and the next touch is that of the needles jabbing into your skin.

Sweet pain mingles with fiery caresses as Gojō carries your through for an hour or more on the verge of ecstasy without once passing the silken barrier and by the time he takes a break to focus completely on you, you’re a whimpering mess, begging for more.

There’s no reason to oppose him as Satoru lifts the dress over your head, leaving you in nothing but your lingerie (which, for once, matches).

“Sweet princess,” he croons against your belly, hands scooting under you to grope your ass, “you want more?”

“Y-yes yees...”

Your own hands are clamped on to the edge of the seat, hips automatically tilting towards him until he pulls away. Through a haze, you see him go and open the box, pulling out something small enough that he can hide it in his hand. Wait...two somethings.

“Can you be a good girl for me?” Of course you can, you will be anything for him. “Put this into your sweet cunt.”

He hands you one of the things: a silicone bullet, smooth and slightly warmed from his touch. There’s no hesitation as you slip your hands beneath the panties, gathering the slick on the toy. It’s not what you had expected, not quite what you need, but it makes you moan to push it past your entrance and feel it almost plop into place. It’s not on purpose when your fingers linger to stroke your folds.

A strong hand clamps around your wrist. “Did I tell you to play with yourself?”

“No-o,” you gasp.

Brilliant eyes have grown icy. “Then why did you?”

“I just...I need m- I need you please.”

He can’t hide the shrewd smile completely. “Only if you’re a good girl. Are you gonna be good from now on?”

“Yesyesyes! I’ll be good, I’ll be so good for you.”

Returning your hand to the edge of the seat, he leans in over you, hips pushing against your inner thighs and his cock twitching against your pussy. Gojō’s chest is hard and warm against yours. His lips soft along your jaw.

“Good,” he whispers, “otherwise I’d have to tie you u-” interrupted by an involuntary roll of your hips, his eyes search your features before he continues, “...oh. I see. Are you sure?”

If I’m not allowed to touch and he doesn’t do it? You nod, but it’s probably a new roll of your hips that convinces him to find two leather straps in the box, one for each wrist. He’s gentle as he ties you to the seat, whispering sweet promises and explaining how to navigate this new territory safely. When done, Gojō kisses you agonizingly slow and deep and your brain can’t help but imagine how it would feel if he was using his tongue like that but on your pussy instead. Tense and hot, clenching around nothing...and he smiles as he retracts because he knows and his cock is damp from having pressed against your soaked panties.

“Mmm, perfect,” the words are mumbled against your cleavage and then repeated as he kisses his way down your body in a straight line.

Almost. Almost there. But of course he skips where you need him the most and you have to bite back a whine as he sets to work on the artwork again.

Kisses. Fingers massaging and rubbing. Soft bites. Each sends new jolts through your body, keeping you close to the edge with no risk of toppling over. Want more. As if on cue, a rumble rocks through your cunt, making it clench around the toy you had forgotten all about in your frustration. Maybe it’s a gasp (it could be a moan) and Satoru understands the sentiment perfectly and lets the vibrations continue as your breathing speeds up and you teeter on the verge of the first orgasm -

“Noooo...”

Everything has stopped and Gojō watches your body regain its balance instead of succumbing to pleasure. The bastard had turned off the bullet and no matter how hard your pussy squeezes around the thing, it’s not enough. Straining against the leather of the cuffs, you try to reach down. Your fingers know the motions. Your clit is throbbing. Inner walls weeping. And Satoru looks at you with hooded eyed while running a hand lazily along his length.

...

The base colours are filled in and the millions of jabs with the needles has caused your thigh to ache wonderfully. It’s not enough to distract you from the much deeper burning in your core: a desperation, a longing so profound that words such as grace or dignity have lost their meaning completely. Tears are filling your eyes and dripping down your cheeks as you babble. Begging. Pleading. Sobbing for Gojō to take pity on the wreck of a girl strapped down before him.

“I love the way you sound, princess,” he mumbles against your hip, “adore the way you stutter through my name.” Adept fingers have left the most sensible parts of your body momentarily to wrap up the tattoo. “You’ve been such a good girl.”

It’s impossible to fit together a string of words. Your brain has been reduced to mush and you’re trembling with need as his lean body presses against your flesh, his raging boner pushing at the soaked fabric of your panties. And he purrs, damn it, the man enjoys the sensation of the vibration he’s subjecting you too as they travel outwards.

“Pl-ple-ease!”

“Yeah? No more playing?” Somehow, the blue of his eyes manages to pierce through the haze of tears.

You’re not entirely sure when he frees you wrists. And the surprised growl as he finally pulls your panties off could just as easily have come from miles away. Two licks is all the aching folds are granted before he maps a path up your body, marking each detour with kisses and bites that makes you whimper at the delicious sting. There’s almost no power left in you to sit up like he wants you to...but somehow you manage for long enough to wrap your arms around him so he can unfasten your bra.

“It’s okay, darling,” he nibbles at your earlobe, guiding you onto your back once more, “hang on a bit longer, mm?”

“M-mm,” you nod, happy for the reprieve as the bullet stops.

Next second, the calm is disturbed as Gojō pulls out the toy slowly, leaving you more hollow than ever. A slobbery sound piques your curiosity, fighting against the reduced vision until you see him lick every trace of you off the silicone.

“I can never get enough of your taste,” he groans, winking at you. “

“You...how do...”

No, words are too difficult. It’s not as you really need them anyways, your brain tries to remind you before losing all sense of reality except the one fact that you’re finally feeling a cock head slipping up and down between your folds. Not just any cock, of course.

“Yeah...plea-OH!”

Shock waves of hot pleasure courses through every cell in your body at the sensation of Gojō bottoming out. Without warning, your body is wrecked, taken apart and put together in a heartbeat that lasts forever as your insides spasm and the only thing you can scream in your ecstasy is his name. And he doesn’t even move, just waits for you to come down and catch your breath.

“Hmmm, we need more space, princess.” His voice is strained.

Somehow, the man manages to lift you, still impaled by his erection, and carry you through a backdoor and up to the next floor – to be fair, you’re not thinking too much about it because all you can do is hold on as each step he takes sends aftershocks through your core.

You are aware of the soft feel of a mattress against your knees, realizing that he’s laid down in bed with you straddling him. Please, yes. It’s impossible to say where it comes from – probably the desperate craving that hasn’t been satisfied enough – but new energy tugs at your limbs until your sitting upright and your hips begin to roll. Every time he says your name, you reward him by pulling nearly all the way off and then sinking back down.

“Why’d I wait so long?” Satoru groans, his fingers digging into your ass. “Feel so...amazing.”

“Yeah? Gonna let me be good to you?”

Gojō seems to be the one struggling for words now as he thrusts up into you with each roll, trying to speed up despite your effort to keep it slow. It’s not long before he lifts you up and down by the waist, praising the bounce of your breasts and asking you to play with them. Of course you comply.

“Fuck!” He pulls you off, scrambling to get behind you and pushing you forward on knees and elbows. “Ready, babe?”

“Gimme, please.”

You're aching for him inside, a deep longing for the balancing act between the pain and satisfaction he can grant you. Breath reduced to superficial whimpers. Hands clenching the sheets. All the anticipation building up to the point that you're shaking as you feel him align himself. Deep...hard, the inner voice keens.

It's neither. Frustratingly slow, Satoru fills you again, underlining the discovery of the bumps and quivers against his length with wonderfully delicious moans.

"Wanted to do this at the club," he growls strained, "slide into heaven. Feel your tight cunt around me as we danced." Finally bottoming out, Gojō's hips stutter and his fingers hold tight enough to bruise your hips in his efforts to still you both. "Fuck, princess! You're so damn perfect, I wouldn't have been able to hold back."

"You wouldn't have had to," you whine, core fluttering at his words.

Slowly, he begins to thrust into you and for a moment the only sounds are from two sets of panting breaths and an obscene squelching. One hand trails up your side only to return via the spine, nails scoring to set your nerves ablaze.

"I think it was worth it," he purrs, "this view? Beautiful. And no loud music to cover your sounds." As if to prove the point, he rams in deep to make you cry out again and again.

You're right at the verge, the dizzying precipice begging for that last stroke to push you over the edge and fly on the updrafts – and the second before it happens, Gojō's strong arms pull you up flush against his chest and he growls into your ear to scream his name. The change of angle, the command, or maybe the feeling his teeth digging into your earlobe as he pulls you down hard on his cock has you cumming with him.

Rather than an explosion or waves, the bliss concentrates heavy and hot and spreads its blinding rays outwards until there is nothing but deeply saturated satisfaction.

You come to you senses sitting on his lap, his arms wrapped tight around you for support for both. Satoru's chest is heaving against your back, but he's still capable of peppering your skin with kisses.

"I know we got work to do still on your thigh but..." his tongue catches your earlobe, making you hum with delight, "be mine, princess?"

It takes a second before you can talk. "Is there any doubt that I am already?"

"Nope...but I like the way you presented your heart to me," you hear him smile.

78 notes · View notes

1994sunflower · 4 years

Text

heaven to you. (m.c)

pairing: michael clifford x reader

genre: smut, fluff, angst (if you squint)

word count: 8.1k

involves: bad boy!michael, college!au, jealous!michael, established relationship, a lot of cursing, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, daddy kink (really mild), choking, dirty talk, pain kink (slight), size kink, thigh riding, face slapping (consensual), hair pulling, spitting kink, throat fucking, impregnation kink, praise, degredation/name calling, innocence kink, virgin kink (kinda), smoking, mentions of drugs/drinking, maybe more but nothing too big just pretty filthy ngl

summary: your high school classmates come over to michael’s house in hopes of being friends with the famous bad boy on campus. this includes your one-sided high school crush that may not have been so one-sided after all. unfortunately for him, michael is not someone to piss off. fortunately for you, michael’s anger and jealousy isn’t always so bad, at least for you.

part two

“Tell me again why we’re going to this guy’s house?” Justin asked his two childhood friends. At least, they were up until high school. Now, as they went to different colleges, they felt more like strangers. But that was part of the reason he took the multi-state trip down to their university: to mend that rift.

“We’ve been telling you man, Michael is the man on campus to be friends with.” Chris punched one of his hands into his other palm for emphasis.

Charlie nodded beside Chris, both standing in front of their front door, ready to go. “He gets into the best parties, gets the hottest chicks and is the most feared guy on campus.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Justin raised his eyebrows.

Chris opened the door, shaking his head. “Yeah, dude. No one messes with him because he’ll beat the shit out of them.”

“He’s done it a few times already.” Charlie added.

“There’s rumors he used to be involved in a gang or something and that’s why he’s like that. Either way though, he gets whatever he wants.”

Justin’s lips curled up a bit in disgust. He came from a wealthy background, wealthy family and wealthy school. Though he never let that get to his head and he never looked down on someone because of it, this stark contrast to his normality was difficult to shrug off.

But he did as he followed both Charlie and Chris out.

Charlie was still raving about ‘Michael’ as they walked out of the cramped dorm room to the unfamiliar winding paths of their university. “I mean, imagine being friends with him. You’ll get all the benefits he gets.”

“I’m sorry, if you aren’t friends with him, how are we going to his house?” Justin trailed behind the two slightly.

Chris looked back, “Turns out his best friend is in my accounting class and he invited us over to play video games. How lucky is that?”

“Yeah, lucky.” Justin looked away. He wasn’t going to admit that as they crossed the street across the student union, the whole concept of meeting someone with a reputation as rough as this Michael character was daunting and just a bit scary. In fact, it didn’t take a genius to look at the three boys all wearing vineyard vines khakis and polos, and know they didn’t mesh well with what he supposed Michael was like.

They didn’t even mesh well with the college neighborhood they were entering. The small houses looked worn and crumbled down and the streets were even worse. The only thing that calmed his nerves was the knowledge that the scariest people on the block were tired college students.

“Have you even talked to him before?” Justin kept asking questions to calm himself down and stop himself from looking around at the neighborhood in disdain.

Charlie shrugged, “I talked to him at a party once, he didn’t say much though.”

Chris smirked, “I walked with him to class once.” He paused. “Well, I was walking with his friend, Ashton? And he joined. But it still felt cool. Everyone was staring and making way for us - well him”

They filled in all the holes in knowledge of Michael. How he never lost a fight (even though he was involved with them often - evidenced by his perpetual bloody knuckles), how he rarely went to class (and when he did, how he sat alone, always), how his fashion consisted of black, chains and more black and finally, how he would go home with a different girl every party (but how that didn’t happen anymore as he had a girlfriend, though her identity to them remained a mystery).

Justin nodded as he listened. But as more and more was added to the infamous Michael, he felt less and less inclined to meet him.

Time, however, to turn back had run out. Because as his friends turned into a rubble pathway leading up to an equally rubble house, he knew he was about to be face to face with the myth, the legend, Michael himself.

The things he would do for his friends. If he didn’t hold such a sentimental place in his heart for the boys he had grown up with, he definitely wouldn’t be there, standing in front of a (turning green) door, waiting for an answer. They were different, it was obvious in high school that they had become different types of men; he valued education, science, and was a romantic at heart while they valued alcohol, parties and were willing to screw anything they found ‘hot’.

But that didn’t deter him from valuing their friendship.

It occurred to him that the only thing his friends had failed to fill him in on was Michael’s appearance. So, when the door opened and a boy slightly shorter than even Chris, the shortest of them (though Justin was 6’5 and Charlie was 6’0 so really, Chris being 5’11 wasn’t that short) and messy brown curls covering his head and forehead, he was shocked to say the least.

But that didn’t last long as Chris dapped him. “Ashton! What’s up man?”

Ashton smiled big and nodded in acknowledgement to the rest of them. “Nothing much bro, took you a while.” But he moved back into the small house, a signal of welcome for them to come in but close the door behind them.

So, as Chris and Charlie followed Ashton in, talking about who knows what, Justin made sure to shut and lock the door before trailing behind.

The house was bigger than he pictured in his mind. The living room and kitchen were divided by only a pillar and the counter. But it was spacious enough to fit a flat screen (granted, it was on the floor) and a black winding couch (granted, it had cracks all over it). The only light came from the kitchen and the tv, which was set to the beginning of the game.

Ashton already sat down on the couch, grabbing a game controller casually from behind him. He was wearing a black t-shirt that had it’s sleeves cut off to the point where you could see his whole side torso through the giant holes. His gray jeans were equally ripped and Justin was sure his shoes would be too, if he were wearing any but just gray socks adorned his feet. He had spiked bracelets on his left wrist. Maybe this was the reason his slightly tanned, innocent face looked strange. His big eyes and friendly smile was a stark juxtaposition to the rest of his body.

Chris looked around as his large figure slumped beside Ashton, “Where’s Michael?”

Ashton didn’t look at him when he answered, “In his room with his girl. He’ll be out soon, I think. That is if they don’t start going at it.”

Charlie laughed as he sat on the other side of Ashton, picking up a controller from the ground. Justin was left to sit awkwardly on the edge of the couch, closest to the kitchen. He felt out of place, just like he suspected and it didn’t help the darkness that surrounded the room, even through the lit kitchen and blue tv screen.

He didn’t get to think much on it, though, because not a few minutes after he sat down, did the bedroom door behind the couch open up. Light streamed into the dimly lit room.

Justin stood. It was a force of habit, really. He was used to standing up whenever someone knew came into the room to introduce himself. But when no one else stood, with Ashton not even bothering to look behind him, he felt awkward. It was too late to sit back down, though.

Charlie and Chris looked back, though, with big grins. “Hey, Michael! What’s up, man?” They said as if they were close friends.

And thus, Justin came face to face with Michael himself. And this time, he looked exactly like what he expected.

Michael was towering, though his height was nearly equal to Justin’s. His shoulders so broad that they nearly filled up the entire doorway of his bedroom. His t-shirt was plain black and so were his jeans, which had three chains adorning them. Two sleeves of tattoos ran down both of his arms to his hands and fingers , one of his hands reading F U C K in big bold letters, with a few peeking out on his neck as well. His black messy hair matched him well and fell onto his forehead.

But through that intimidating appearance, none of those things were what caught Justin’s attention. No, it was Michael’s eyes that did it. Though they were light in color, somehow they still seemed dark. The coldness in them was frightening. There was no hint of warmth, of friendliness, in them. In fact, as Michael held direct eye contact, saying nothing at the still standing Justin, the aggression his eyes held was enough to make Justin take a step back.

It was that step that seemingly broke the trance Michael had put him in. Because just like that, Michael looked away and moved forward into the living room. He nodded in acknowledgement at Chris and Charlie, still silent, before shouldering past Justin to go to the kitchen. He grabbed a bottled beer, opening it with his bare hand on his way back.

Justin was going to sit back himself as he saw Michael head to the couch but was stopped by a second, much smaller figure exiting Michael’s room.

The girl was petite, especially compared to Michael, standing at a proud 5’1. Her straight black hair was parted down the middle and hung perfectly over her shoulders. She wore a dainty white sunflower dress that contrasted beautifully with her olive skin which made her, along with her kind smile and bright brown eyes, look like the epitome of innocence. Quite the distinction from Michael who seemed to personify danger.

She was beautiful.

And she was his good friend.

“Y/N?”

Your legs were stationed at each side of Michael’s torso as you straddled him. Your hands were cupping his face and while one of his hands was on your ass while the other was gripping your long hair, pulling just enough for it to be pleasurable.

Your mouths melded into each others deeply and you couldn’t tell which one of you were more desperate for the other. You’d been making out for a while and your body was on fire. You felt like his touch was both burning you and exactly what needed at the same time.

It only took one slow grind of your hips against his that did it for him. He flipped you over so that you landed directly on one of his thighs, the chains of his jeans rattling in the process. His body was flush to yours, you could feel his hardness against you.

You looked up at him with wide innocent eyes, just how you knew he liked it. And you were awarded with a deep groan and a taunting smile before his lips returned to your body, this time to your neck. You moved your head to give him more access and as he got more into it, sucking and biting, you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped. You knew he was going to leave a mark (probably many) because he liked to have something that claimed you as his.

One of his hands wandered to your lower body, traveling under your flimsy dress to flip it over. He gave your ass a swat to command you to move. He didn’t have to tell you twice. Your hips starts moving, slowly at first against his jean-clad thigh. But as the pleasure started to build up at the friction, you began moving faster, desperately, moaning loudly.

Michael watched you silently, a smirk on his face. The only touch was his hands on your hips, guiding your pace and your movements. Otherwise, he just watched you get off on him.

“Did you wear this dress for me?” You nodded desperately against him, wanting nothing more than push against his finger but knew better.

His hand pulled your hair harshly, hard enough that it hurt but that just made you moan louder. “I asked you a question.” He growled, he had begun to move his leg up and down, making everything that much pleasurable.

Fuck. “Y-Yes, all for you, daddy.”

“Good girl.” Was all he said before his lips claimed yours again. His kisses were fervent as he bit and sucked on your bottom lip. Your hips were still moving violently against his thigh and you could feel your climax start to build up. It was almost too hot for you to handle. But you could tell he was going to give you what you wanted soon.

Or he was. A loud banging came from his bedroom door across the room. “They’re here!” Ashton’s voice rang to you from behind the door.

You sighed deeply as you pulled away from Michael and away from your release. Michael groaned and fell, face first, into the mattress. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Maybe later.” You giggled, pushing him up to lay on his back. He looked up at you and a mischievous smile, the one you had grown to love, adorned his face.

“Or we can continue.” His hand was already reaching to your wrist to pull you up to straddle him again but you held back, shaking your head.

“Mikey, you have guests.” But still, you leaned over and pecked his lips quickly.

Michael groaned again, this time out of annoyance. “Fuck them. I don’t even know who they are, they’re Ashton’s friends.”

You smiled at his attitude. Your hand was tracing his neck, following the ink lines. It was a vulnerable position he was in, and something he only ever allowed you to do. When he was with you, it was so easy to forget how different he was with other people. How mean he could be. It was almost comical to see the difference in how he was right then to what he was just a few minutes ago.

“Be nice.” You chastised. “They’re here for you too, don’t bother trying to kid yourself.”

You heard Michael whine, “Come on, baby girl.” He took a hold of your wrist again. As he pushed himself up to a sitting position, he easily towered over you and he used that to his advantage. Pushing you against the wall next to his bed, he cupped one of your cheeks. His hand took up much of that side of your face, “Let me get you off.” His voice was deep with want.

You’d be a liar if you said that you weren’t wet. The way he was looking at you, the way you felt so small in front of him, you wanted to let him do whatever he wanted with you. But as you heard the front door close, you couldn’t. Not only would it be embarrassing because you were never quiet, Michael made sure of that, but it would be impolite.

Michael would never admit it but you both knew the guests were here for him. He was somewhat of a legend throughout the campus, especially among frat boys and wannabes. No matter your disdain for people like that, they came all this way for him.

So you pushed against his chest just slightly, knowing that would be enough for Michael to let you go. And when he sighed and moved away, you got up from his bed and moved to where there was a mirror hanging next to his closet. Your hair was a mess and so was your makeup. You looked fucked out and you were in awe for a moment at how Michael managed to make you this way with just a make out session and a dry hump.

Fixing yourself, you couldn’t help but smile at the pouting boy, still cross armed on his bed. Turning to him, you motioned for him to get up. “Come on Mikey.”

He stood and immediately, you had to crane your neck to look up at his big height. Even his shoulders engulfed your entire figure. Michael knew what he did to you so it wasn’t much a surprise when you felt one of his hands wrap themselves around your neck, the one with his bruised knuckles, but not hard. “After this, you’re mine.”

You think your smile was enough to tell him how excited you were at that prospect.

Michael gave you a weak smile. He didn’t tend to smile much, even when it was just the two of you. In fact, except the fact that he was a lot chattier and warmer with you, he was still always in his head and rarely expressed much emotion outside of bed besides anger, horniness and the rare affection. But you were okay with that. Your emotions were enough for the two of us.

He gave you peck on the lips, “I’ll see you out there.”

You nodded up at him, smiling before going back to fixing your makeup and adjusting your dress. Ashton had a couple of friends over ever now and then. Most, if not all, coming to see Michael. Though, you tried to not be there whenever they came over, Michael seemed to prefer it for you to be with him. To give him something to actually look forward to. He hated meeting new people and he hated their interest in him. He was popular without wanting to be. So you were often there to remedy that and you became the center of his world in those moments. Though, really, that was how you were most of the time you were with him.

Only a few minutes passed after he left the room that you followed him out.

But as soon as you left the room, you stopped when you saw someone standing in the living room, looking at you. In that same instance, you recognized him. Justin. A good friend from high school and an even better human being.

As your name left his mouth you grinned, coming closer to hug him. It had been so long, years, actually. The last you saw him was at your graduation when you swore you’d miss him. And you had. After all, he was the boy that plagued your heart all throughout high school - not that he’d known.

“Justin!” The hug was quick and you had to get on your tip toes to do it. You could tell he was just as surprised to see you. He was smiling wide and his eyebrows were shot high like they did whenever he was interested in something.

But just as soon as you pulled away, the weirdness of the situation seeped in, “What are you doing here?”

Justin blinked as if he, too, just became aware of the weird circumstance you were meeting in. “I, uh” He scratched the back of his head, unsure of how to answer and gestured to the couch. “I came with Chris and Charlie.”

Your brows furrowed further as you glanced at the couch where, sure enough, your high school classmates sat, looking back at you. They waved, slightly confused. You tried to ignore the fact that even Ashton had torn his eyes away from the tv to stare at you two. Which, considering how hard it was to take Ashton away from his video games, was saying something.

All you could think was that you wanted to crawl into a hole. The boys that you always said peaked in high school and made you so upset when they transferred to your university were now at your boyfriend’s house, trying to be his friends. It was truly a worst case scenario.

Excluding Justin. It’d been so long since you saw him, it felt nice to be in his presence again. You appreciated him as a person and the kindness he radiated - even to you, someone so much lower in economic status than him.

“But I thought you went to Washington?” You fiddled with one of your bracelets as you spoke.

Justin nodded, stiffly. “I do, we’re just on Spring Break a few weeks before you so I thought I’d visit.”

You smiled, “You should’ve gotten in touch!”

You think the situation had gotten a hold of him because while he otherwise would be rambling on with questions and stories, Justin had gotten quiet. “But why are you here?”

You blinked. Now you felt uncomfortable. It was as if you finally noticed everyone’s eyes on you, including Michael’s glaring ones. Yeah, this is definitely the last time you were going to be there when someone else was coming over.

Ashton turned back to the tv and scoffed, “Please, she practically lives here.”

Your nose crinkled when you smiled and made your way to Michael, who had taken a seat and motioned you into his lap. You shrugged, looking at your high school classmates. “This is my boyfriend’s house.”

Justin sat down slowly, his eyes just as wide as Chris and Charlie’s. Most people on campus knew you were Michael’s girlfriend. So the shocked reaction had been diminishing. You were almost starting to become used to not seeing it.

Almost.

You don’t really blame them. You are very different. Michael is aggressive, angry and cold while you tended to be bubbly, shy and school-oriented. But that’s what you liked about each other. You just fit so well together. Opposites attract, right?

Ashton spoke up again, knowing Michael would likely not talk the entire reunion if he could help it. “How do you know each other?”

You took one of Michael’s hands in yours, your hand looking almost minature in his large one, and traced the tattoos you loved so much, “We went to high school together.”

Ashton nodded, “Oh the private one?”

Charlie nodded, glancing at Michael before looking at you, “I didn’t know you were dating Michael Clifford.”

You smiled weakly, we’re not friends, that’s why you didn’t know is what you wanted to say.

Michael took a chug of the glass bottled beer in his hands. It was like a silent signal because after, the three boys began playing their game.

You made a grab for the beer but Michael moved it out of your reach, his free hand slapping the side of your thigh in warning.

Your eyes widened. “Michael!” You hissed under your breath. Not in front of everyone. But he just stared at you, unsmiling. The only hint of humor came from his twinkling eyes.

He didn’t like you trying anything he was into: drugs, cigarettes, weed, alcohol. It was all off limits to you and he made sure everyone knew it. It was his way to preserve your innocence, even if dating him made that seem sort of like a paradox. Sometimes, though, it was fun to mess with him even if you were never interested in actually experimenting with the things he did.

“So, Michael…” You were brought out of your own little world by Charlie. “Are you going to Epsilon’s party tonight?”

“No.” Came Michael’s curt reply, his thumb drawing lazy circles on your arm.

Ashton was the one who saved the moment (and Charlie’s feelings) by filling in Michael’s blanks. You think that’s why they were such good friends. “Michael hates parties. He’d rather be here with Y/N and do it like bunnies.”

You weren’t sure if you wanted to die or if you wanted to kill Ashton. Maybe both.

Because as soon as those words left his mouth to your high school classmates - and high school crush - you felt your face heat up. You didn’t have to look to know that Michael was smirking.

You saw Justin blush and look away and for a moment, you felt worse. There was something about feeling completely humiliated in front of someone you hold at such a high regard that does that to you.

Ashton and Chris both exclaimed at something on the tv at the same time your phone chimed. You unlocked it to read the text.

kelly (stats)

hey girl! are you on campus? i’m at the library and wanted to see if you wanted to work on the project.

The project. It was due in a few weeks and while you had finished your portion, the rest of it was definitely not done. You sighed, knowing you’d have to go and lose the rest of your day with Michael.

You felt Michael shift under you, moving up from his slouched position to be able to read your text fully. He kissed your shoulder when he did.

“I’ll be right back.” You whispered to which he nodded. You got up from his lap and moved to the kitchen, moving to call Kelly and sort out the details.

“Hello?”

Justin’s eyes followed your movements as you left to the kitchen, though certainly not missing the way Michael’s hollow eyes watched his every move. Michael, sitting slouched, didn’t even stop staring when he took a chug of his beer, the red of his healing bloody knuckles on full display.

Justin definitely understood what made Michael so scary on campus. What he couldn’t understand is why Y/N was with him. Sweet, innocent Y/N. Had you changed so much in three years that this is who you would fall for?

He could feel Michael radiate hostility but Michael remained quiet, simply choosing to observe Justin, which somehow seemed more terrifying.

When you came back into the room, Justin actively tried not to watch you. He kept his eyes on the tv with his only glimpse of you being your bottom half as you walked by him, your dress falling to just below your mid thigh. He couldn’t help but listen to his friend’s chiming voice as you spoke in a lower tone.

“I’m going to go to the library to finish up a project.” He couldn’t hear what Michael answered, if he even answered. But he heard you continue. “No, I might just walk. It’s still light out. I’ll call you when I’m heading back.”

Then, as if the afternoon didn’t already feel surreal enough, he saw you out of the corner of his eye, bend down and plant a kiss to Michael’s lips, one of your hands were on his abdomen, holding you up. It almost felt jarring to witness. Not only to see Michael allowing such a thing but to see the girl that had taken up much of his mind, and heart, in high school willingly put herself in that position with a man like Michael. It had taken him a while this afternoon just to put the pieces together and understand that Y/N was Michael’s girlfriend but to see it laid out in front of him was disturbing nonetheless.

When you straightened up again, you regarded the boys in front of you with the kind smile Justin knew so well. “I’m heading out, nice to see you guys again.” Though you didn’t really sound like you meant it.

Justin didn’t think his next actions through. All he was thinking was that it was an out. An out to leave this house that made him so uncomfortable and an out to not be in the same room as Michael without you to mend the tension.

So he stood up without much thought, “I’ll head out with you.” And as the words left his mouth, he wanted to take them back immediately. They came out wrong. He knew it and so did everyone else in the room, evidenced by the pausing of the video game and the multiple set of eyes on him.

You blinked up at him, processing what he said for a moment before he quickly added, “I mean, I left my phone back at Chris’ room so I was going to leave anyway. I was just thinking I’d give you some company.” That didn’t sound any better either.

But he trudged through the awkwardness of his phrasing by refusing to look at Michael. Justin had a feeling that would make everything a million times worse.

But you didn’t fail him, “Oh, sure.” You smiled warmly, looking back at Michael quickly before moving towards Justin and the door, “We can catch up on the way.”

Chris and Charlie were looking at him with wide eyes as he left, likely cursing him out in their heads for messing up any chance they had at being Michael’s friends. But as he followed his friend back out to the open world, outside of the dark and cramped house, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

You looked up at the tall blond boy beside you as you walked down the sidewalk that would lead back to campus. You were still in awe that he was there beside you, walking and talking to you after so long. Well, not so much talking. You think he was still up in his head about the situation.

“So did you really leave something in Chris’ dorm room?” You smiled knowingly up at him.

To which he let out a chuckle and lowered his head sheepishly, “No, I…I just had to get out of there.”

You nodded like you understood, which you did. You talked a lot when we were in high school and you knew his limits, what he was used to. “Yeah, I know that house can be a lot for some people.”

“It’s just cramped.”

You didn’t say it but that kind of bothered you. It wasn’t a mansion and while it wasn’t exactly nice, it was cozy and it felt like home. Michael made it feel like home. But you knew Justin couldn’t see it that way. He was the richest boy in high school, after all. And popular because of it. Though, looking back, you couldn’t think of a time where he had let that get to his head.

“So, you and Michael, huh?” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his khakis and looked over at you. His blue eyes clouding with worry.

Now, it was your turn to chuckle. “Yeah. It’s okay, a lot of people have the same reaction.”

“It’s just different, I guess. Have you heard his reputation at all?”

You got on the bus that would lead straight to the middle of campus at that point and found two seats right next to each other.

You nodded, “I guess. But Michael…Michael’s different from what you think. He can be sweet. You just have to get to know him.” You tried to tame the big loving smile that was threatening to explode at the thought of Michael, the version of him that you knew. You were well aware of how vicious and even cruel he could be, gaining him the rumors that constantly swirled around him and now even you. But he wasn’t like that with you.

“I heard he’s in a gang.” Justin whispered.

Your eyes shot up at him in alarm, “Of course he’s not.” Unfounded rumors like that did bother you, they whittled down all of Michael’s past struggles to be theatrical entertainment for those looking in, not to mentioned demonized him even further for no reason. Though they never really bothered Michael, you had too much respect both for him and for yourself to be okay with them.

“I just don’t think I expected him to be your type.” He explained, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Well he wasn’t, not at first.” You calmed down and instead bit your inner cheek, trying to decide whether you should let him in on your little secret. “Actually, you were my type. I had a huge crush on you in high school…”

“What?-”

“…Don’t worry, I’m over it now.” you quickly added in when you I felt him freeze behind you in surprise. It was embarrassing but it didn’t make much sense keeping it from him anymore.

“I had no idea.” His voice dripped with honesty. He pulled at the collar of his polo shirt.

You shrugged, “I made sure of that. I don’t know, you were just so nice to me even though you were so out of my league. You were rich, popular but so respectful and socially aware. Plus you weren’t a republican.” You laughed before looking down, “And I was the shy scholarship kid.”

It was obvious Justin was trying to think of what to say so you helped him out, “But you know three years of college really changes you. I’m a lot more outspoken now and I found a great boyfriend.”

Justin nodded, still seemingly shocked, “That’s great.” His voice was soft and, as you made eye contact, there was something more in his eyes that you couldn’t read.

But you didn’t have to think of it much because you got to our destination and you both made your way off the bus, onto the campus you loved so much.

“Okay, I guess I’ll see you around?” You were already moving back slowly, desperate to get to the library quickly so you could head back to Michael faster.

Justin nodded, not moving to go to the dorms, “Yeah, I’ll be here for two weeks or so.”

You practically skipping when you reached Michael’s house again. The sun had set and part of you were upset at how long it had taken you in the library. But as you opened the door to Michael’s room and saw him laying on his bed, headphones on and wearing a black hoodie with only the tattoos on his hands peeking out, those feelings disappeared and were replaced with much more primal feelings.

Michael, slipping off his headphones gently, seemed to mirror your feelings because just a bending of his index finger in a ‘come here’ motion, was enough to have you closing the door behind you and nearly jumping onto him.

You were smiling but asked before anything else, “Ashton-?” You always felt bad he had to deal with you constantly at each other with only thin walls separating Michael’s room from his.

“He went to that frat party.” Michael muttered, uninterested. His eyes were instead trailing your body, figuring out which way was best to take off your dress.

You were on all fours as you crawled your way to him, stopping when you were in between his spread legs. “You should’ve gone.” Even if you didn’t love parties, they were still a big part of who he was, before dating you he would be at them drinking the night away every other day, and a part of you felt bad for taking them away from him, even if unintentionally.

But still, he couldn’t look like he care less when he reached over and pulled your dress up to uncover your ass, his hands trailing down the curve of you sensually before giving you a small spank that made you jump in surprise. “I have better things to do.”

Now that deserved a reward. Your hand rubbed over the noticeable bulge in his jeans. Michael’s hands undid his belt, the sight of that action almost making you want to moan right then and there. Your hands trailed up to undo the button and zipper. He eagerly pushed his hips up to help you take his jeans and boxers off.

His long and thick length stood out horizontally and you felt your mouth watering already at the thought of taking him in your mouth.

One of his hands took a hold of the gold necklace you were wearing, twisting it and pulling at it to force your face closer to his.“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”

When you first started having sex, you were shy and inexperienced. Words and talk like that would have had you shaking nervously. And while you would still likely react that way in public, with enough time with Michael and in the privacy of his room, you didn’t even blink when you answered.

“Always.” Your hand wrapped around him before you took his dick into your mouth. Michael groaned immediately and threw his head back, eyes closed. This only proved to spur you on. You took him as deep as you could, stopping only when his tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag and pull back.

But the vibrations only seemed to have him moaning louder and led to one of his hands to collect your hair and push himself back into your mouth. “Fuck that’s good, take it.”

You didn’t even notice when he had taken off his shirt and hoodie. His tattoos, which ranged from his fingers to his entire torso and neck were on full display and you felt yourself get wetter at the intricate ink that adorned his beautiful body. It was a contrast to your body that was completely bare of any tattoos.

Up until then, he was still controlled. When you looked up at him with the innocent eyes you knew drove him wild and moan against his length as you bobbed your head, his control snapped. There was something about you looking pure, especially in that angelic-looking white dress, at the same time you were doing something so dirty with him that sent him ablaze. Even more knowing that you were only like that for him.

Immediately, he tightened his grip on your hair with both hands, holding you in place. He thrust up into your mouth at a fast pace, fucking your mouth harshly. His groans increasing in volume. He thrust into your mouth deeply, your nose nearly touching his stomach, and kept himself there. Your throat closed tightly against him.

“Do you like that?” Your jaw hurt and you felt tears in your eyes as he pulled out enough for you to breath, his cock was messy with your spit. Then he continued, thrusting into your awaiting mouth and murmuring dirty nothings under his breath. You wanted to trail your hands down to your pussy to soothe the ache it had for him but you refrained. “Do you like me using your mouth like a dirty fucking slut?”

You moaned involuntarily. You needed him. You could feel yourself soaking through your panties. Michael gave a sharp tug at your hair and pulled you off of him. He tilted your head back painfully to lock his eyes with yours.

“Do you like being used like a toy?” His voice was cold and mean but it was a turn on. You nodded your head submissively and one of his hands reached down to your cheek, giving you a sharp slap. Enough for you to feel the sting and enough for it to feel good. “Open your mouth.”

You did what he said immediately. Your tongue poking out in anticipation. Michael leaned down before spitting into your mouth. You closed your eyes, moaning when you felt another slap at your cheek.

“Dirty whore.” Michael muttered under his breath before pinning you down to his bed, tearing your dress off as soon as hit the mattress and then doing the same to your bra and underwear.

Part of you wondered what had gotten into him. Being rough and kinky in bed isn’t something out of the ordinary for you two but he usually wasn’t like this out of no where. Not that you were complaining.

On all fours, you swayed your ass to him enticingly and looked behind you with a virginal smile, “Fuck me, daddy.” You said innocently.

He didn’t say anything as he flipped you over quickly and ran the head of his dick teasingly along your entrance, slapping it onto your pussy twice. A load moan of his name left your mouth when he finally entered you. He wasted no time in thrusting at a rough pace into you. Your moans were cut off and stuttered at the pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” One of Michael’s hands reached up to your throat and pressed tightly. The feeling of his inked hands around your throat amplified the pleasure. Your walls clenched around him. “No matter how many times I fuck you"

You saw his eyes be fixated on your breasts, the way they bounced up and down fully in pace with each of his thrusts. He leaned down and wrapped his warm mouth around one of tits, flicking and twirling his tongue around your nipple.

Your eyes closed involuntarily and your back arched in pleasure as he continued to slam his hips into yours. The only sounds in the room were the sound of skin slapping, your moans and his grunts.

“If only those boys could see you now, their innocent little classmate, so submissive and desperate for my cock, letting me fuck you like my bitch.” Michael’s voice was taunting and you could barely get your mind out of the haze of pleasure to question what he was talking about.

“But they’ll never see you like this. This is the only cock you’ll ever get, your first and your last. No one will ever be able to please you like I can. Do you think that blondie can make you feel this good?” You closed your eyes in pleasure, too far lost to even understand what he was saying, just shaking your head in answer. You were blushing like crazy at his words, which only served to make him thrust faster.

“Look at me.” He hissed and you did just when his thrusts’ vigor increased even more which left you whimpering and writhing underneath him. But still, you opened and kept your eyes on him, your mouth open as moans filtered out of you. “Tell me you’re mine.”

Though your mouth was open, you couldn’t formulate words. But Michael’s hands on your throat pressed harder and his other hand slapped your cheek as a warning, “Tell me.”

“Y-Yours. I’m yours, Mikey. Only yours.” His mouth was on yours in a heated kiss while his pace never faltered as he pistoned in and out of you.

“That’s right.” Michael praised, “Mine.” Then he said something he had never said before. “I’m going to knock you up, get you nice and pregnant. Everyone would know then, that you’re fucking mine.” He almost sounded delirious with the prospect.

He didn’t mean it, he couldn’t mean it. Even if he did, you were on birth control. But you moaned loader just at the thought of his love for you reaching those lengths.

“You want that, little one? Want me to fill your tight little cunt with my cum?”

A chorus of “Yes, yes, yes” left your mouth, you couldn’t speak anymore than just repeating that. The thought of being pregnant with his child and the reminder of just how small you were compared to him was enough to put you on another planet.

“H-Harder.” You were shaking as he complied with your request, his thrusts moving faster and rougher into you. Your arms wrapped themselves around his torso and scratched at his back, desperate for a way to express the nearly overwhelming pleasure you felt. He hissed in pleasure at the pain, his body above you engulfed nearly your entire figure.

“Open” His rough voice commanded and you opened your mouth obediently. Moaning again as he spit into your awaiting tongue once again.

Your throat was starting to be raw with your screaming and begging to come. “Cum for me, princess.”

You clenched your walls as you came around his big cock and that seemed to be the only thing that took for him to release after you.

He released inside you, filling you and leaking out after he pulled out. “Such a good girl.”

He was still coming when he pulled out and ribbons of cum adorned your face, which you graciously accepted. Michael watched your face and groaned to himself when you licked some of his cum off that was at the corner of your mouth and swallowed.

His eyes were closed in pleasure for a moment before he released his grip on your throat. You didn’t doubt the image before of you, blushing and covered in his cum did wonders for his libido.

He cleaned you up but you had a feeling it was just an excuse to be able to give you a passionate kiss. “You did great, baby girl. I love you.”

His praise made your heart swell. “I love you, too.”

Before you knew it, your kiss had gotten much more frenzied and his hand was trailing to your sore entrance. But you stopped before it could lead to a round two.

“I’m sore.” You mumbled before nuzzling into chest. His arms wrapped around your body protectively and kissed the top of your head, gently, so different from how rough he was just a few moments before.

You looked up at him quizzically just to see that he was already looking at you. “So, are you going to tell me what that was about?”

Michael looked genuinely confused, “What do you mean?”

You rolled your eyes, moving up so you were at eye level with him. You ran your fingers through his soft black hair, noting how his eyes fluttered at the sensation. “You know what I mean. What wound you up so bad?”

“Nothing” But at your pointed look, he sighed in defeat and muttered, “Those little rich boys. The tall one, he’s into you and I couldn’t do shit about it.”

You sputtered, “Justin?! No way is he into me.” You shook your head, giggling as you leaned back to lay your head on his shoulder. “Actually, in high school, I was the one into him.”

You probably shouldn’t have said that. You knew it as soon as Michael’s eyes hardened and his body stiffened. “What?”

Shaking your head, you stuttered out, “But I got over that years ago, he’s just a friend.”

But Michael couldn’t let it go, “You liked him and he was in my fucking house? He left with you for fucks sakes Y/N.” He moved as if he was getting up and you placed a hand on his chest to stop him (only doing so because he let you, otherwise his strength would quickly overpower yours). If he were to go after Justin, there would be little you could do to stop him from beating him to a pulp.

You kissed him deeply to calm him down because you saw his eyes start to shut down. They started to look like the same eyes he had in public, the cold, angry ones. And you couldn’t let him go there, not with you.

“We were only with each other for a few minutes, we took the bus.” You reasoned with him.

Michael locked his jaw tightly but he was starting to calm down, “That bitch ass couldn’t even look at me but I was watching him. He kept looking at you like he knew you, like he knew you how I know you.”

He looked at you then, with a mocking smirk. “Like he knew how sweet and moral you are and that you shouldn’t be with your big bad boyfriend. Too bad he didn’t see you begging to have your mouth and pussy filled by your mean boyfriend’s cock. Or that he didn’t know I was the one that took your virginity,” He moaned at the memory, “What do you think he would say if he saw innocent little Y/N like that?”

You didn’t have to be looking at him to see the delight in his bright eyes and sneering smile. It was obvious he enjoyed corrupting you.

You whined at his words, embarrassed, as if you didn’t hear much worse things come out of his mouth when you were underneath him or even when he was in fights with others.

“Are you sure Ashton isn’t home?” You changed the topic.

“He’s out.” Michael repeated, “Why, did you want him to join?”

He was teasing you, you knew he was but you whined again, blushing (something you knew he loved) and shook your head no.

He chuckled, a warm and joking chuckle, “Good, because I’m not sharing you. Remember that.”

Michael settled you in between his legs comfortably, giving you his phone to busy yourself with games or take photos. He kissed the top of your head, that reached just to his chin. Meanwhile, he grabbed a cigarette and a lighter from his nightstand, placing the white stick in his mouth and lighting it. The scent overtook your senses uncomfortably. But you were used to it so you didn’t do much besides raising your hand jokingly, to ask for a puff.

But Michael, who never took those things as a joke, squeezed your thigh. “I don’t want you getting into the shit I’m into.” He said, “I want to keep you pure for me.”

Because as much as he loved corrupting you, he loved your innocence even more.

so i think i’m going to make this into a two part series with each part having two stories involved. if that makes sense, let me know what you think!

#5sos #michael clifford smut #5sos smut #michael clifford x reader #michael clifford #bad boy smut #jealous smut #bad boy michael #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings #calum hood #ashton irwin #calum hood smut #ashton irwin smut #5sos imagines #michael imagine #college au

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