#so tell me how that's now doubled to 4k | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jamminvroomvroom · 3 months

Note

I absolutely adore your writing,

For the celebration, could you please do virgin reader first time with Oscar?

sunshine.

op x fem!reader - 4k celebration

in which oscar arrives home to an unexpected guest…

hi hi hi! thank you so much anon, i hope this is what you wanted!! trying to get through requests, loving hearing from you guys! this one is so cute i think, let me know ur thoughts 😚😚

songs to set the mood: fall in love with you by montell fish, fade into you by mazzy star, like real people do by hozier

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!!! smut, fluff, friends to lovers, sleepy baby oscar, teeny tiny bit of angst, mutual pining, r’s first time, swearing

2.9k words

oscar’s exhausted, shoulders sagging beneath the thick material of his mclaren hoodie. he’s glad he left it in his carry on, the miserable london weather not even remotely living up to the warm glow of the middle eastern sun.

he craves his bed, dreamless sleep, entering the code to get into his building and slumping against the cool mirrored wall of the elevator. his eyes droop as the lift travels up, and the ding that sounds when he reaches his floor breathes life back into him.

the double header that kickstarted the season has knackered him, and he longs for alone time and silence to recuperate before he has to deal with the noise of going home and racing in front of a familiar crowd.

his key slides into the lock and he pushes the door open, throwing his bags by the door - he’ll deal with them later. the hoodie is shrugged off and dropped haphazardly on the floor next to the shoes he kicks off. his bed is calling. dazed, he trudges down the hallway, but he’s spooked by a faint sound coming from his bedroom.

as he primes himself to investigate, he hears footsteps, light and quiet against the floorboards. he goes to open his bedroom door, breathing heavy, but he just about jumps out of his skin when it swings open before he gets there. he yelps, and so do you, leaping into the air.

“you scared the shit out of me.” you shout, hand over your thumping heart.

“i scared you? what are you doing here?” oscar bites back, running his hand through his brown locks.

“sorry, sorry, i didn’t mean to be here without your permission but… it’s a long story. i didn’t think you’d be home yet.” you smile apologetically.

“sofa.” oscar mumbles, stalking past his bedroom and towards the living room. “what’s goi- are you wearing my shirt?” he splutters, finally looking at you properly.

your face heats up, and you cross your arms awkwardly.

“um, yeah? god, this is all so embarrassing.” you cover your face, falling onto the sofa. he plonks down beside you.

“tell me what happened.” oscar sighs.

“he dumped me.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“why?” oscar asks softly. “ugh, i knew i hated him for a reason.” he wrinkles his nose.

“i don’t know how to explain this without wading into major tmi territory.” your voice is small, quivering slightly.

“you can tell me, love.” he encourages gently.

“he found it weird that i’m, uh, a virgin?” you squeak, your voice raising into a question. oscar goes as red as you are.

“oh. oh.”

“oh god, you’re freaked out too. is there something wrong with me? like, why has this not happened? i thought i was ready with him, but then when it came down to it…” you ramble, trailing off.

“there’s nothing wrong with you.” oscar states, firm and serious. “him, on the other hand.” he shakes his head, disgusted. “he wasn’t good enough for you.” he spits.

“do you mind if i stay here?” you whisper, leaning into his side. “or, keep staying here?” you laugh softly. oscar joins in.

“you know you can always stay here.” he smiles sleepily. you’re just about the only person in the world he can stand right now, and always, actually. “but i need a nap, you coming?”

you nod and follow him to his room. the tv is still on, the one with monica and chandlers wedding playing quietly. oscar smiles. he knows it’s your favourite.

he flops onto his side of the bed, dropping off almost instantly. you watch over him, enamoured and sympathetic, in awe of him and the life he lives. you slip into bed beside him, leaving a respectable distance between you and the aussie.

you pass out right around chandler’s vows.

you stir between two thick arms. pale, warm skin is wrapped around you, oscar’s soft breath fanning your face as he sleeps.

you watch him, scanning each and every mole on his face, trying to ground yourself. you combat the anxiety of being in his arms, choosing to enjoy the moment, while he’s still peaceful. it’s nice to feel wanted, even if he’s unconscious.

for the first time, you’re glad your ex broke up with you, because how does it make sense that you feel safer, more wanted in the arms of your best friend?

“stop staring, ‘m gonna blush.” oscar mumbles, clearing his throat. his eyes are still shut, but he just knows you too well.

oscar opens his eyes slowly, blinking away sleep. you stare at each other, comfortable silence eating away at the palpable tension.

you kiss him.

because why wouldn’t you? it’s oscar, your oscar, and he’s sleepy and cosy and gorgeous, and you’ve waited too fucking long. you can’t resist it any longer, free from the bounds of being someone else’s.

his lips are warm, and he’s startled, but the surprise doesn’t falter him; just as quickly as you kiss him, he’s kissing you back. his large hand finds your face, and the other finds your waist, pulling you closer. you melt into him, impossibly closer than you already were.

he’s gentle with you, tentative but firm and you part your lips, letting him lick into your mouth. his tongue strokes softly over yours and you keen at the sensation. he pushes you onto your back, balancing on his elbow half hovering over you. your hair fans out onto the pillow, his soft fingers running through your strands, pushing them away from your flushed face. oscar pulls away, scanning your face.

“sorry.” you smile up at him, breathless.

“apology very much accepted. i’ve been wondering when that would happen.” he laughs incredulously.

“really?”

“what can i say? i’m irresistible.” he replies dryly, exercising his sense of humour that was a foundation of your friendship.

“yeah. you kinda are.” you giggle bashfully.

and then he’s kissing you again, pressing himself even closer to you. you welcome him in, wrapping your arms around his lean frame, feeling over his shoulders. he’s tense, restrained, groaning into you at the feeling of your hands raking over his back.

“we should stop.” he mumbles, noses bumping. you frown.

“why?”

“because you said earlier, you’re not ready for this and i’m… well, things are gonna get real awkward if we keep going.” he chokes out half a laugh, glancing down at his-

“oh.”

“yeah, i just, i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. we can go slow.”

“osc, i wasn’t ready with him,” you pause, collecting your thoughts. “but you’re not him.”

“i suppose that’s true.” he shrugs.

“then you better do something.”

oscar lays you back, climbing over you completely this time. his trails over your jaw, taking your chin between his fingers.

“are you sure about this? we can stop anytime, just say the words.”

“‘m sure, oscar. i want to do this with you.” you coo, reassuringly.

his lips run over your neck, your collarbone, and he mouths at the collar of the t-shirt that you’re wearing. his t-shirt. his.

“gonna take this off, yeah?” he asks, whispering low, right by your ear.

“yeah, please.” you say, your own hands running under his t-shirt and up his muscular back. he’s relaxed now, no tension between his shoulder blades, and so you push the material up, and he slips it over his head. his warm digits peel your shirt off, too, and you’re warm all over when his eyes trail over your chest.

you’d forgone a bra, ditching it when you’d arrived at his place, and his pupils are blown wide, hazel hues sparkling with desire. his hands slide up your ribcage, thumbing at the underside of your breasts, while he plants open mouthed kisses down your chest. your eyes flutter shut, gasping softly as he skims your nipple.

“oscar.” you breathe, the light whimper sending his blood rushing south.

“does that feel good?” he asks, searching your face for answers.

“more.” you sound strained, desperate, and he aches.

his sucks your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud. he toys with the other one, massaging your breast with his skilful fingers, tweaking and pulling until you’re panting beneath him. he pulls away with a pop, licking over to the other side, deciding to test your limits when he nips delicately at the peak. you moan, bucking your hips, hypersensitive to his every move.

you can feel how hard he is, his grey joggers growing tighter with every passing second.

“want all of you, osc.” you plead.

“need to get you ready for me first, okay honey?” he rubs circles into your sides, warm and calloused. you relax fully, lifting your hips.

oscar mouthed over your belly, peppering sunshine-like kisses down your abdomen until he finds the band of your loose shorts. he mumbles something into you navel about taking them off and you nod, enthusiastic and frantic. you can feel his smile branding your sensitive skin. the material glides down your thighs, pooling at your ankles, and you kick them away. he parts your thighs, making himself comfortable on his belly, and thumbs at the crease of your leg, toying with your panties.

he drags his pointer finger over your covered slit, up and down slowly, applying more pressure every time he brushes over your clit. oscar can see where you’re starting to seep through your panties and he stifles a low groan, anxious to peel the cotton off of your body, the final barrier separating him from you, so he does, pulling them slowly down your legs. he studies your face as he does, keeping his eyes firmly on yours. your lip catches between your teeth, aching as you watch, helpless and wet.

oscar kisses your hip bone, sucking gently until he’s stained it purple, and then his warm breath is fanning your cunt. your eyes squeeze shut.

“look at me, baby. gotta keep your eyes on me.” oscar mutters. your pussy clenches around nothing at the tone of his voice. you pry your eyes open, just about managing to prop yourself up on your elbows. “that’s it, honey. has anyone ever done this to you before?”

you shake your head, no. he smiles to himself, like he knows something you don’t, and dives in.

his tongue works in slow strokes, dragging through your slick with intent, eyes locked with yours. you must look like a deer in headlights, pupils blown, shocked with pleasure when you collapse against the mattress. he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking, tasting, and your legs go weak, splayed open all for him. you whimper as he tugs your clit between his teeth, just enough to graze over the sensitive nerves. it sends your hips flying, bucking wildly against his face.

“osc…” you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut.

“‘m gonna give you some more, is that okay?” he asks, nose bumping your clit.

“yes, please.” you don’t know what more is, but you need it like air.

you feel a finger glide over your sodden flesh, rubbing over your entrance. you sigh out, oh, anticipation and bliss sending white heat down your spine. he circles his finger around your opening, coating it in you, and carefully slides it in, feeling out for any sign of tension or discomfort. when you grind your hips onto the single digit, he knows you’re okay.

it feels good, better than anything you’d ever felt on your own, and you writhe against his bedspread. he thrusts a couple of times, experimenting, seeing what makes you squirm for him the right way, and when his finger curls, hooking deliciously, he knows he’s struck gold. you arch off the bed, searching for more, more, anything.

“another one.” you cry, begging, and oscar’s not one to tease. not yet, anyway.

a second finger joins the lonesome first, and he finds some pace, fucking into you faster. he scissors the digits, stretching you out for him, enjoying the pretty view. he’s achingly hard now, rocking discreetly into the mattress, losing his mind as he watches how you drip around his fingers. he wants another taste of you, addicted already to sweet, salty honey, so he has to finish you off, lap your mess off of his long fingers.

“i think- i think-“ you can’t get the words out, they’re lost on your tongue, but oscar knows what you mean.

“that’s it, baby. so good for me, doing so good. cum for me.” he spurs you on, drawing it out of you.

you let go, crashing biblically, the high sending you to heaven and back, two times over. he grinds his fingers, softer, just enough to help you through it and you chant his name like you’re praying at an alter. you know that you’ll never be over this. your oscar.

“holy shit.” you giggle, smiling lazily as you return to the world of the living. he’s licking his fingers clean; you could black out so easily.

“did you enjoy that?” he punctuates with a kiss to your belly, crawling up your body until he’s hovering over you.

“maybe you should do it again, just so that i can really make sure that i did.” you tease. your hand rakes through his hair, pushing it back off of his face. he’s grinning down at you, eyes fluttering shut. “that was amazing.” you whisper. he’s blushing when he kisses you, and then you are too, when you taste yourself on his tongue.

he moans against your lips, making you pull back. your hand leaves his brown strands, joining your other, which is currently voyaging down his back.

“you’re wearing too many clothes.” you whisper, lips bumping his as your hands slide under the waistband of his sweats. something desperate emits from the back of his throat. you push them over his hips, fisting the thick fabric, eager to have him bare on top of you once and for all. oscar helps, kicking them away, boxers too.

you can feel him, thick and wet between your thighs, his breathing uneven. your nails graze his hip and he jolts, collapsing on top of you, his full weight covering your keening body. he kisses into the crook of your neck, frantic; you need him deep, immediately, his urgent change in form leaving you flushed.

“you want me?” he whispers into your ear, leaving you shivering.

“so bad.” you pant.

“i’ll be gentle.” he promises.

he guides himself through your folds, slippery and warm, all for him. he nudges the head inside of you, hips stuttering at the blinding tightness. you gasp, but he catches it in his mouth, softly moulding his lips to yours as he pushes further. you open up for him, pliant, and when he eventually bottoms out, he holds himself there, letting you adjust.

“oh, fuck.” your eyes roll back, nails leaving crescent marks in his shoulders.

“so good for me, so pretty.” oscar grunts. “say when, baby.” he breathes, rubbing soothing circles into your hip.

“move.”

oscar rolls his hips, rocking you into the mattress. he hooks your knee over his waist, driving himself deeper and deeper with every thrust. you’re boneless, lost to the delectable stretch, to the way his cock seems to touch every part of you that makes you quiver.

“tell me how it feels.” oscar murmurs, grip tightening on your thigh.

“fuck, oscar, it’s so good. ‘m so glad it’s you.” your voice shakes, raw with emotion.

“me fucking too.” he mumbles, increasing his pace ever so slightly.

his thrusts lull into more of a grind, reaching your depths and revelling in the way you only get tighter for him. you’re spilling around him, already so close to meeting your end, and all it takes is the calloused pad of his thumb brushing your bundle of nerves to have you convulsing. you’re somewhere else entirely, on a whole other spiritual plane, utterly and completely his as he fucks you through your second orgasm.

when he spills, white hot and sweat slicked, he gushes endless hushed whines of your name. it sounds perfect when he says it like this, rolling off of his tongue with dire urgency.

his dampened hair falls over his darkened eyes, full of stars and total adoration. you’re smiling sleepily up at him like he’s made of sunshine. you always thought he was, and now you know that he most definitely is.

the most beautiful sunshine man.

“hi.” he whispers.

“hi.” you whisper back.

an intimacy, different to the one you’ve just shared, blossoms between you, encapsulating you here with him endlessly.

“i’m gonna clean you up, ‘n then we’re gonna order food.” he gazes fondly, stroking your hair.

“perfect.” you agree.

“put friends back on, i’m gonna run you a bath.” he begrudgingly stands from the bed, trailing towards the en-suite.

“you’re gonna join me in there, right?” you admire his naked frame as he disappears into the bathroom.

“obviously.” he pokes his head out once more to scoff, and you lay there, grinning like the worlds most lovesick idiot, your thoughts dulled by the sound of running water.

when the bath is full of hot water and too many bubbles, he gets in first, and you sink into the revitalising heat. oscar pulls you close, your back to his chest, kissing over your hairline as you mould yourself against him.

“thank god you broke in.”

oh i’m soft

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cheonstapes · 2 months

Text

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘SUGAR BABY CHRONICLES’ ヽ(´o｀；

･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡. miguel o’hara x fem!reader .｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･

SMUT

REQUEST from my lovely @miguelzslvtz; So I was thinking of an older!Sugar daddy Miguel x reader. The reader is working at small country club and Miguel noticed her. She’s serving him drinks, and taking care of him. He tells her she’s too good to be working there and introduced the idea of being her sugar daddy (basically some arm candy). He invites her over to his mansion for a party and she’s dressed up for him🫶🏻 all night she’s being looked at by other men and woman, he’s being very protective of her. He loves on her all night and makes sure she’s taken care of💗💗spoiled✨

cw; older!miguel, slight age gap (reader is in early 20s, miguel is in early 30s), cumming inside, slight breeding(not really, i just have a problem), sugardaddy!miguel, readers a little bit of a tsundere kinda, miguel’s really in love, cunnilings, shower sex, hair pulling, NAWT PROOFREAD!!

4k+ words (longest fic omg!!)

@cheonstapes; hi again…🤗 these hiatuses are killing me. i’ve been absolutely swamped and i lost so much motivation to write but im glad to say i think i’ve found my footing. i found myself again and i’ll work on balancing everything from now on! i apologise for the mammoth amount of time it took me to do this (this is what i get for working chronologically) and i have not forgotten about your requests if you sent one! pyramids and project ex will still be coming but i want to make sure requests are out of the way as they’ve been there for months and it’s not fair for the lovely people who’ve waited so long. thanks again! i love you all🩷

you loved your job, you really did.

not many people can say that genuinely, but when you’re getting the tips you’re getting, seeing the men you’re seeing, you definitely don’t wanna leave anytime soon. working at such an elite club meant you were among the rich of the rich — the big shots of the city that wouldn’t be caught anywhere else.

at the very least, the uniform was modest enough — obviously though, there would always be a few buttons left undone on your shirt, your skirt pulled up just that little bit higher. that window of flesh, no matter how small, was a guaranteed extra thousand in your pocket by the end of the night — and that wasn’t even counting him.

mr. o’hara. that’s all you knew him by. the man was overtly secretive, often arriving alone or occasionally with a very small group of associates. he was by far your biggest tipper. at times, you wondered if he owned the club due to the pure influence he has on your boss — somehow, much to your excitement, convincing him to bump your pay-check up by a lofty sum. the amount of money you make could send you into an early retirement, but of course you wouldn’t do that. it meant you wouldn’t get to learn more about him, and you needed to learn more about him.

summer was always the busiest, the great weather meaning there was more members than usual coming out to play. although, running around and serving for 9 hours a day was extremely tiring — gruelling even. there was sweat dripping down your face, your black dress feeling like a leather coat with the way it clung to you like second skin.

one last drink. you had one last drink to serve and then you could go on your break. double checking the table number, your eyes widened slightly as you saw him. mr. o’hara was not a small man by any means — the bulging muscles tucked away under his tight dress shirt, shoulders almost akin in length with the table. to put it simply, he was the epitome of sexy. you were barely at his table and you could smell him already, the masculine musk of his oud creating a musky, rose scented bubble that ensnared all your senses.

“‘s that for me, sweetheart?”

yes, yes it was. but he really wanted to hear you say it. your voice was such a sweet caress to his ear — he could guarantee an angel got its wings every time you spoke. miguel usually prides himself on being in control of his emotions, his body — but having a pretty, little thing like you just within his grasp was the ultimate challenge of restraint.

the man felt absolutely helpless, his heart pounding in his chest like a hormonal teenage boy when you placed the drink in front of him. “you know it, mr. o’hara — you order the same thing everyday.” fuck. the sip he was having was definitely becoming more than a sip the longer he held the cup to his mouth — chub twitching against the fabric of his slacks.

you were just the sweetest little thing — much more enthusiastic than the other girls that worked there. he might be just imagining it too, but he can feel deep in his heart that you dress up just for him. miguel knows you want him, and he’s more than happy to give himself to you.

“you know me better than i know myself, dulzura. almost like you’re keeping tabs on me, hm?”

“i mean, yeah, i kinda am. it’s my job, mr. o’hara. you’re one of our most frequent regulars, it’d be crazy if i couldn’t tell you your order ‘fore you give it to me.”

oh…yeah.

in miguel’s defence, it’s been a while….a long while since he last flirted — and having an 8-year-old daughter who’s judging your every move means there’s not a lot of time to work on your game. but he’d be damned if he lost an angel like you, he will be yours. plus, gabi does need a woman like you in her life too.

“do you enjoy it, though? your job, I mean — not keeping tabs on me.”

“you probably won’t believe this, but i actually do. the pay’s good, at least, and i can afford to pay my bills, uni, and still have fun. i’m kinda lucky, i guess.”

“you wouldn’t have to worry about that with me, nena.”

miguel knew he was probably breaking some sorta rule, flirting with staff or whatever — but god you were worth it. if being able to take you home meant that he would never set foot in the club again, then so be it.

“sorry, what was that, sir?”

“…quit your job — not in a ‘you’re bad at your job way’ — i’ll take care of you. i can give you everything, anything you want.”

you couldn’t say you were surprised, especially with the nature of your job — old men say stuff like this to you all the time. but, miguel wasn’t any old man. as much as you loved your job, had a stable income and good connections — the thought of quitting and running away with a man like him? fuck, it was so tempting.

“alright then. i hope you live up to those words, mr. o’hara.”

———————————————————————————

mr o’hara (sugardaddy?)

i’m throwing an event at work tonight, i want you to be there.

sent 16:42

(y.n)

hi, mr o’hara. i’d love to but i finish work at 7,i don’t know if i’ll be able to make it. and i don’t really have anything to wear :(

sent 16:50

mr. o’hara (sugardaddy?)

don’t worry about it, gorgeous. i’ve already got you off work for the rest of the week, and i’ve got you something nice to wear.

sent 16:50

(y.n)

oh, really? well, i guess i’ll see you there then! ;)

sent 16:56

mr. sugardaddy

mmhm, i can’t wait to see you, babe. and call me miguel.

sent 16:56

———————————————————————————

miguel had promptly sent his driver to pick you up in a sleek black sports car, much to the dismay of your co-workers. a beautifully wrapped box was placed on the seat beside you, a bouquet of orchids and a small note that read ‘for you, las flores más bonitas para la chica más guapa - m’

it was hard to not feel a tinge if heat was rising in your face, for someone whom you’re only just getting to know to be so utterly romantic — it was a new experience! relationships had never been something you were particularly interested in, but there was no denying the allure that someone like miguel held and only time could tell how it would all play out.

arriving at his mansion, which was nothing short of jaw dropping — the halls were mostly desolate aside from the quite bustle of the staff that were preparing for tonight’s ball. an elderly woman escorts you upstairs to the master bedroom, your eyes roaming the area as you take in the grandeur of the building — aged walls paired with a modern nueva york touch.

“where’s mr. o— miguel?” the woman turns to you, an indecipherable smile on her lips.

“mr. o’hara is just getting prepared for the ball. don’t fret over him, he’ll join you shortly.” well, it was a bit rude to invite someone over and not be there to greet them but ok! “ah, i forgot to mention,” she opens the door, stepping aside to let you in. “i left you a little something on the dresser. i believe you both’ll be needing it.” the woman winks, silently closing the door behind her — leaving you alone in the large room.

god, even the room smelt like him. a musky wood and cinnamon smell, with the faintest hint of vanilla from the candle burning by the window sill. it wasn’t everyday you were in the presence of such luxury, especially old money luxury. your eyes flitted over to the dresser the woman was referring to, that sneaky grandma.

a box of xl condoms, birth control, towels, all wrapped in a cute gift basket. “seriously? who does she think i am? i’m not fucking on the first date.” wait— was this a date? it definitely felt like one, but it was hard to be 100% sure. this was too much to deal with now, all that was left to worry about was the ball and getting ready.

on the bed behind you lay a beautifully wrapped box, with a red ribbon to top it off. it fell gracefully onto the bedsheets as you unwrapped it, lifting the lid to reveal the shimmering red dress underneath. a sleeveless satin dress, fabric lined with the finest crystals, a slit raising mid thigh, lined a sheer lace. it was the definition of classy, with a hint of seduction.

putting it on felt like a crime, something so beautifully should be preserved and put into a museum. it took all of your willpower to not tuck the dress away somewhere safe and just go and get one of your own — but alas, it was a gift, the least you could do is wear it. the craziest part was how perfect it fit. practically a glove, clinging onto every curve and crevice of your body — extenuating places you never even noticed before.

smoothing out the wrinkles, making sure it was as perfect as possible — fuck, you looked hot. the colour complimented your skin exquisitely, adding a soft glow to your complexion. in the time it took you to get ready, it seemed like the party was already amping up. you could see the surge of people from the window, flashing lights and an abundance of cars being handed to the concierges. you still had yet to see miguel and what better time to look for him than now?

there was a pair of red heels that matched the dress to a T, slipping them on and bouncing down the steps. the butterflies fluttered wildly in your tummy the nearer you got to the party, joining the line of people being checked in by security. though, from the corner of your eye, you catch sight of him. standing there in all his 6’ glory, curls lightly slicked back, wearing a tight button up shirt and those sexy slacks.

something about seeing miguel like this, so carefree and relaxed, set something off inside of you. even though you were supposed to be his guest, you did everything in your power to avoid his gaze — purely cause you don’t think you’d be able to maintain eye contact him for longer than a few minutes without jumping his bones. but of course, fate was destiny’s whore, and soon enough you were being escorted straight into the ballroom.

“were you avoiding me, cielo?”

a hand splayed across your waist, leading you deeper inside the hall as he whispered in your ear. it was obviously due to the fact that you probably couldn’t hear him all too well because to the loud music, but the way his hands caressed your sides, his lips brushing against the lobe of your ear — it felt all too intentional.

“no…i just didn’t want to cut in line. i figured i’d see you when i see you.”

“is that so?” he slid a champagne flute in your hands, grabbing one of his own as he tilted his head at you — a stray curl unfurling down his forehead. “you’re like an open book, cariño. you think i don’t know what’s going on in that pretty little head by now?”

“so you’ve been studying me, hm?” now it was your turn to raise a brow, tilting your head back as you took a long sip of your champagne. it wouldn’t be a huge surprise if he had been, it was kinda obvious from all the stares he’d give you and when he’d ‘enquire’ about you from your colleagues.

“mmm, studying’s a strong word. i was simply…observing you. can’t blame me for wanting to know someone as enchanting as you better.”

he had quite the mouth on him, didn’t he? you couldn’t stop the small smile that graces your lips, shaking your head in disbelief.

“you’re so stupid, miguel.”

“if falling for you is stupid, then i’m the dumbest of them all.”

it was so bad, so bad that it was actually good. and that comment shaped the rest of your night together. considering your new arrangement, he took the liberty of introducing you to his circle of friends and their wives — conveniently leaving out that he was your new sugar daddy, but that was a story for another day. miguel revelled in the looks they all gave you, seemingly forgetting they themselves had a date nestled on their arms. he really couldn’t have picked a better dress, but damn if it wasn’t killing him.

you really didn’t know how beautiful you were, and he so badly wanted to show you. the dim lighting was a blessing for the tent in his slacks, giving him a flimsy disguise for the arousal he felt at that moment. after more than a few drinks too, wandering hands and lingering words, it was becoming unbearable. however, scaring you off wasn’t on his bucket list tonight. he didn’t take this long fighting for your attention to loose you on the first date. he vowed to do everything at your pace, leaving it up to you to make the first move.

as the party wrapped up, and miguel said his goodbyes — you stood at the door, shivering from the cold air as it nipped against your bare arms. the fun you had was incomparable to any party you’ve ever been to, but you thought you may have overstayed your welcome. shakily tapping on your phone with freezing fingers, ordering an uber to pick you up —

“leaving already?”

“yeah, i had a lot of fun tonight, though.” it was a genuine smile, one that spoke a million words. “thanks for inviting me, miguel.”

for a man so big he sure did move so silently. he stood behind you, gently grasping your hand in his as she looked down on you. “when i invited you, i didn’t invite you as a mere guest — you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”

it didn’t even sound like he was simply offering, miguel was begging. you could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice — urging you to stay the night, stay with him.

“miguel, are you sure? i don’t even have anything to change—“

“i’ve already organised sleepwear for you, but you could wear something of mine if you’d like?”

that sly smirk slid its way onto his face once again, rolling your eyes as you walked past him — pulling out your phone to cancel the uber. “fine, i’ll stay. i might take you up on that offer too.”

lo and behold, an array of skincare and pyjamas were set out on his bed as you entered the master bedroom once again — and to top it off, gift bags filled with designer items that you’d never thought you’d ever own. “miguel…is this all for me?”

“unless i have another sugar baby, who else would it be for? ‘course it’s for you, darling — consider it a…’welcome’ gift.”

“more like my entire tuition fee, hell. you didn’t have to spend all this money on me, y’know?”

“cariño,” you could see miguel walking up to him from the mirror in front, his arm slipping round your waist to pull you into his back. “i spend my money how i want, and i want to spend it on you. so i don’t want to hear no more complaining from you, understand.” the small nod you gave earned a small grin from him, a hand smoothing up the curve of your back until it reached the shimmering zipper under your neck.

“you look like a goddess tonight, baby. so fucking beautiful…” his words were whispered softly into your neck, gentle breaths caressing your skin. as he spoke, the zipper slid lower and lower — until your dress was held together by the tips of his fingers. the cold metal of his rings brushed against your bare skin, the tips of his fingers dancing on the curve of your waist as he lets the fabric pool at your feet.

“m-miguel, i’m sweaty from all the dancing! at least let me wash up first, or something.” if you weren’t sweating much then, you were definitely sweating buckets now. the heat radiating from you mixed with the heat simmering between the two of you made for a heady cocktail of unspoken desire — and you silently cursing yourself for almost breaking the number one rule: ‘don’t fuck on the first date.’

“we can use my shower then, it’s large enough for the both of us.” we? oh, you’re definitely breaking that rule now. “i didn’t say this was gonna be a joint effort, did i? i can wash myself, miguel.” you weren’t even convincing yourself with the breathy way you spoke, the way he was caressing you, the pure adoration in his voice was something you haven’t felt before. plus, this is the guy who’s willingly paying you to simply be around him — it’s a win-win situation.

“i know you can, baby —“ letting out a deep chuckle, miguel intertwined your hands and lead you towards the bathroom — “but it’s more fun with two, no?” the gentle pitter-patter of the waterfall shower reverberated through the silence of the room, the sound of fabric rustling followed shortly after. glancing down at your feet, miguel’s clothing was promptly discarded — your widened eyes trailing up his hefty frame.

“fucking christ…”

the man in front of you was nothing short of absolutely beautiful. despite spending everyday surrounded by older men, you never found yourself truly attracted to them until now — or maybe it was simply just miguel himself. “i thought you wanted to take a shower, muñeca?” oh, yeah, the shower. before you could even finish your thought, miguel was already occupying half of the space in there, leaving a small pocket for you to slide into.

the expeditious beating of your heart was muffled by the steady stream of water, but it was more than clear to miguel what you were feeling in that moment. the moment was strangely intimate, and dare i say innocent, for the predicament you found yourself in. his hands gently roamed your skin, barely making contact with any sensitive areas aside from fleeting brushes. he made a point to use his hands instead of a rag, claiming he could ‘clean you better than a flimsy cloth’.

it was truly getting unbearable, utterly frustrating. your subconscious and ovaries were in an intense battle of wits, when a third party made itself known in the worst way possible. you really had forgotten that miguel was as naked as you were until you felt the base of his cock slide between your ass cheeks, chest flush against his back. the slightest hitch of your already shaky breath earned another rich laugh from within him, thick fingers playing with the skin of your tummy.

“you feeling cleaner or what? i’m more than happy to keep going if you are, baby.”

of course you wanted him to keep going! you were already as wet as is, in every way possible. “i..i think you might’ve missed a spot.” the hand on your tummy paused, his breath hitting your ear as he bent down slightly. “i did? i like to consider myself very thorough, cariño — enlighten me.” you did your best to turn with the small space you had, looking up at him with a more confident expression than the one you wore previously.

“here.”

now it was miguel’s turn to be surprised, the tip of his finger brushing against your swollen clit before tapping against your slit. it had been so long since you had a real good fuck, and right now you were genuinely about to give this man some babies if he kept on smiling like that. “mm, looks like i did. forgive me for being so careless. i’ll make sure she gets extra attention.” his words trailed off as he sunk to his knees, the gentle spray of water splattering against his face.

he tapped your ass, lifting you up with one hand as he pressed you against the cool glass, legs resting on his shoulders. his pretty lashes were dusted with droplets of water as he gazed at you from between your thighs, nipping and sucking on the sensitive skin as he kneaded your skin gently. his thick tongue was enough to completely spread you open, eagerly collecting your creamy essence.

miguel was moaning like a pure slut, you would think he got more pleasure in eating you out than you did. his eyes were rolled back, hips absentmindedly bucking to the rhythm of the shower as he sucked on your clit. the position was not uncomfortable by any means, but the unadulterated pleasure you were feeling made it hard to stay upright — nails raking down the expensive marble tiles as you practically grasped for straws.

“grab my hair, darling. i don’t want you to fall.”

whilst his words were slightly muffled, the undeniable concern in his voice had you moaning embarrassingly loud. miguel was clearly strong enough to hold you up all alone, so you surrendered the grip you had on the wall to rake your trembling fingers through his hair — tugging on the curly strands.

“nngh..fuck..”

he fucking whimpered. miguel o’hara, the richest and most powerful man in this city, was shamelessly whimpering between your thighs. that was certainly the biggest ego boost ever, the fact that it’s your pussy that has this huge man so drunk. pushing out your hips, you practically smothered his face — riding him mid-air as you felt the delicious sensations bubbling up inside of your stomach. breathless chants of his name left your lips, panting softly as your head fell back against the panels.

“c-cumming! ugh— fuck, miguel!

the jerks of your body made miguel grip your ass tightly, licking his lips of your release as he shuffled upwards, grinning down at your disheveled form. “you’re breathtaking when you cum for me, beautiful. can’t believe you’re all mine.” he whispered against your lips, forehead to forehead as he kissed you for the first time. it felt like a million tiny fireworks going off inside of you, the previous tension in your body instantly melting away as you leaned into his touch — tongue’s pressing against each other as drooled slipped down your necks.

he kept his mouth latched onto yours as he gripped his leaking cock, dipping the pearly tip inside of your sensitive hole. his movements were unhurried, sloppily kissing you as he dipped in-and-out, in-and-out. it was a steady pace that you soon found yourself liking more than usual, a stark contrast to the inexperienced fucking’s you were getting before. “inside, please…i wanna feel you, all of you.”

you were too dangerous for this old man’s heart. having a pretty little thing like you beg for him to fuck you like you deserved, to mold that sweet cunt into the shape of his cock — it was all too tempting. he was more than willing to do anything his sweet baby asked him to, and he wasted no time in giving in to you. “shit, cielo, no one’s ever fucked you right, huh? she’s gripping onto me like a vice.”

he was right, in every sense of the word. you didn’t know how many partners he had before you, and really didn’t want to find out — but one thing was for sure, miguel knew exactly how to please you. your head fell against his chest, his hand lifting it up by your chin as he pumped into you. “tell me, dulzura, i’m the only one that’s made you feel like this? only man to fuck this perfect pussy right?”

he took the tiny nods and breathy whimpers as a yes, grinning like a madman as he revealed in the satisfaction of ruining you for anyone else — not like he was gonna let you go in the first place. his pace picked up vigorously, finding the perfect balance between pounding into your sore cunt and softly rutting against your ass. the skin where you both combined was tinged red, the on-going waterfall above unable to fully wash away the evidence of your cream on his pelvis.

“only you, miguel — no one…no one’s better than you. i’m yours, daddy.”

those words, hushed and warm, pushed his already inflated ego to the edge. his hips bucked widly, prodding at the spongy spot inside of you as she pressed his lips against yours once more. all sounds were trapped between your connected lips, muffling the choked squeal that left your lips and the guttural groan that left his as he came deep inside you. he did promise to clean you extra throughly, and what better way to do that than flushing out your canal with his cum!

he lazily rolled his hips against yours, ignoring the sticky liquid bubbling on the side of his spent cock. “did so well for me, my beautiful princess. i’m so proud of you.” the fluttering of your heart made you instinctively turn away, cheeks flaring with heat as you pouted — you really can’t believe you fucked on the first bloody date. your little tough act didn’t fool miguel, in fact it fuelled him even more. he continued to praise your very essence, worshiping the ground you walk on despite your protests — smiling softly as he sees your fierce resolve weaken. “there she is, you ready to let me love on you now?”

“yeah, yeah. but first, we need an actual shower. no fucking this time.”

“no promises.”

this was the last place you saw yourself in life, but maybe being in miguel’s arms were where you were supposed to be.

- thank you for waiting and make sure to watch ateez at coachella!!!!!

#cheonstapes #cheonstapes films!🪷#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel o'hara headcanons #astv miguel #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara smut #miguel fanfic

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j-onedrabbles · 1 year

Text

𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

✧ REQUESTED BY: @slayhyunjin ✧ PAIRING: SKZ X READER ✧ CW: ARGUMENT, CURSING, KISSES, FOOD MENTIONS, TYPICAL GIRL BSF IN LOVE WITH GUY IN RELATIONSHIP (NOT MENTIONED IN ALL), MENTION ANXIETY IN HAN'S, GIRL BSF CALLS READER A GOLD DIGGER IN HAN'S PART, FEM!READER, FAKE TEXTS ✧ WC + SS: 4K + 8 ✧ NOTE: I was too lazy to give a name for the girl bf so... she is referred to as "(name)"

BANG CHAN

Chan sighed and tossed his phone onto his bed. He knew he really fucked up, but there wasn’t much he could do. They’d gotten into fights before and he knew some space would let them both calm down and think. He didn’t like that he’d been unaware he had let Y/n sizzle in anger for a whole night since he came back to the dorms after leaving his friend.

He laid back against the bed and thought. He had her gifts all ready to head over. He planned to pick up a bouquet and food on his way over today. But now he didn’t know. He didn’t even know if they had eaten today.

He grabbed his phone and ordered her fav over to her place. It was one thing he could do while he waited. He checked social media, text notifications, did some writing; anything to keep busy. He almost jumped out of his chair when his phone notified him of a text message. The one he had been waiting for for who knows how long. The small ‘come over’ text had him running around the room, grabbing everything. Phone, wallet, keys, shoes, gifts. Double and triple checking he had everything before he left the dorms and headed to her place. Stopping for a few minutes to get her flower.

Y/n sat, waiting on the couch, finishing up the food he had for her. Ultimately, she knew Chan would never truly mean to forget and ditch her on her birthday. Most of his days would mesh together and he was always busy so she couldn’t really fully blame him. But, she also knew (name) didn’t like her that much. Y/n figured very quickly (name) was that typical girl best friend who had a crush on their guy best friend. Y/n just didn’t want to come off as the jealous girlfriend so she never brought it up to Chan.

She got pulled out of her thoughts when she heard the door unlock and she knew he was there. She didn’t move from the couch, letting him come to her. Chan locked the door and slid his shoes off and walked into her living room. Y/n just stared at him as she set the takeout on her coffee table. In the back of her head, she thought it was cute he came in with flowers and presents but she was still pissed and she was keeping it up.

Chan set the flowers and gifts down on the other end of the couch before kneeling down in front of her, putting his arms on either side of her on the cushion. “I’m so sorry baby. I really don’t have any excuse. I should have made sure I had the correct day for your birthday in my phone. I shouldn’t have agreed to go out with her yesterday.”

“It was her idea to hang out?” Y/n asked

“Yeah? Why?”

“Fucking cunt,” Y/n groaned

“Babe? Talk to me,” Chan grabbed her hips and rubbed small circles into the skin with his thumbs.

“We don’t get along Chan. As much as I hate to tell you this because she was your friend before we got together, I know she fucking likes you, Chan. If it was her idea then she must’ve fucking known it was my birthday and— fuck I sound like the crazy jealous girlfriend.”

“Hey, hey. No, you don’t love.” Chan grabbed her face and ran her thumbs under her eyes, catching the tears that threatened to fall, “You saying that made me just realize it. She was very clingy with me yesterday and it did make me uncomfortable. I never meant for any of that to happen yesterday. Will you let me stay here and make it up to you baby?”

Y/n nodded and watched him let out a breath neither knew he was holding. “You owe me a lot of cuddle and kisses for that shit.”

“Gladly,” Chan moved up onto the couch and pulled her into his chest, and kissed all over her face.

LEE KNOW

Minho immediately jumped into action. He generally thought his girlfriend’s birthday was today. So he saw no harm in going back home, seeing (name), and then going to his parents after. He tossed his phone onto the bed and got dressed. He wasn’t gonna be here all day, he’d told his parents he was just staying the night and then heading to Y/n’s in the morning. He was sticking to the plan, whether she was pissed at him or not.

He grabbed all his stuff and the gifts he had bought her. Mid-checking to make sure he had everything, all three of his cats decided to demand attention. Minho sighed and sat on the bed and petted Doongi while Soogni and Dori did their own thing in his room. “Wanna go see you’re mom? She won’t beat me up if you guys come.” Minho said.

Doongi just meowed at him as he got up, grabbing their travel crate. He got it on the bed and opened it, leaving them to go in while he grabbed a few treats, in case they needed coercion, which they did.

Once he did manage to get the three of them in and close the crate, he made sure he had everything. His mom shoved her birthday gift for Y/n into his arms before he left and got into the car. Minho kept an eye on his messages the whole ride over to her apartment. She probably wouldn’t text him after her last message. No point in messaging her that he was on the way, she wouldn’t let him in. So, he just opted to surprise her.

Y/n was cleaning up from her and Jisung’s shit talk last night about her boyfriend. She’d passed out last night after he left to head back to the dorms. He texted and complained about his hangover which made up for a little bit of the sour mood. She updated him about the conversation with her boyfriend.

She was cleaning up the counter when she heard a knock at her door. She put the rag down and headed over to unlock it. Figuring it was probably one of the guys. And she was right, it just wasn’t the one she wanted to see. Then she saw the cat crate. “I’m only letting you in because I want to see my babies.”

“I’m not gonna argue it,” Minho said as he walked in.

He let the cats out in the living room and they immediately took over, having been to Y/n’s apartment before. Soongi went right over to Y/n and laid on her lap. Minho had set down the presents he’d brought over as well and sat on the floor. “I’m sorry kitten. I shouldn’t have blamed you for my mistake. I don’t know why I didn’t hear my phone go off yesterday.”

“You still forgot my birthday,” Y/n glared at him

“And I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t forget you’re birthday, no matter what’s going on. That’s on me entirely and I swear on our babies it won’t happen again.”

Y/n looked at the cat on her lap for a moment. “Cook me dinner tonight and I’ll accept you’re apology.”

“Deal,” Minho agreed immediately, without a fight

“Why did you buy me so much by the way?” Y/n motioned the gifts on the table

“Because I love you and you deserve it. And there’s one from my parents.” Minho moved up to the couch and wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

“I’ll open them later. You have cuddles to make up for being a dickhead.”

“Come here.” Minho pulled her against him as she held the cat in her arms

CHANGBIN

Changbin sighed, running his hands through his curls. He usually wasn't a forgetful person, especially with his girlfriend. How the fuck did he manage to forget her birthday and then go out with another female friend. He quite honestly felt awful about it. Now he had to figure out an apology. Food always seemed like a good apology.

Y/n didn’t even go back to sleep after she texted her boyfriend. She just lay awake in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She knew she couldn’t stay mad at him for long. But she was also a bit pissed that he had said “argument” in his text. He was wrong for forgetting her birthday but it made it sound like he wasn’t wrong for doing so. The word just pissed her off more.

Y/n got up and did some housework she had been putting off for a few days. Better than laying in bed angry. She tossed the covers off and got to work, putting on her playlist as she worked. It took her mind off of it for a while. Almost an hour later she heard a knock at her door. She figured it was a package she ordered and opened the door. But it was just a food delivery, and she knew she hadn’t ordered food today.

She picked up the take-out bag and looked at it. It was from her favorite take out spot and the address was hers so someone sent it to her. Only one person came to mind.

She took the food inside and set it on the counter before texting the boyfriend she was mad at. He must have been waiting for her to text him because he replied immediately.

Y/n: Did you order food to my place?

Gym rat: Yes. It’s part one of my apology for missing you’re birthday.

She rarely could stay mad at Changbin for long. She mentally sighed and typed out the next text.

Y/n: Come over so we can talk

Gym rat: on my way

Y/n ate and finished up her cleaning while she waited. It only took him twenty minutes to get to her apartment and knock on the door.

“He has a key, why is he knocking?” Y/n asked herself as she walked towards the door.

Her question was answered when she opened the door and saw his arms full with a bouquet of flowers and gift bags. His face just said ‘i’m sorry.’ Y/n stepped aside and let him in. Changbin stepped in and set the gifts and flowers down on her coffee table before turning to her. Y/n had followed him into the living room after she locked the door, arms crossed.

“You wanna argue now?”

“There’s nothing to argue about,” Changbin sat on the edge of her couch. “It was wrong of me to forget you’re birthday and then go out with (name). I’m so sorry baby. I’ll make sure it won’t happen again.”

“That hurt, you know. Going out with another girl on my birthday.” Y/n walked over to him from where she stood.

“I know sweetheart. I would never do that on purpose to you. I would never cancel on you for another girl. I love you too much to hurt you like that.” Changbin reach out and pulled her towards him so she stood between his legs. He placed his hands on the back of her thighs, looking up at her, “Whatever you want, I’ll do it. Won’t ever happen again.” He placed a soft kiss on her stomach.

The little kiss made her smile as she looked down at him and ran her hands through his curls. “Promise?”

“Swear on my life,” Changbin rested his chin up against her chin.

“You’re forgiven, love. You owe two days’ worth of cuddles for that.”

“I’ll give you a month’s worth of cuddles to make up for it.”

Changbin pulled her down onto his lap and cradled her into his chest and showered her with kisses

HYUNJIN

Y/n ignored her boyfriend’s last text, not even looking at the device as she threw it onto the couch. She wrapped herself up in her favorite blanket and turned back to the show she was watching. Almost forgetting the conversation with her boyfriend until she heard a few knocks on her door. She’d waddled over to the door and looked through the peephole. She saw her boyfriend on the other side. She’d almost told him off but she knew from the look he was trying not to break down crying.

She was a weak woman to her emotional ferret of a boyfriend. She took a deep breath and opened the door, blanket hanging around her frame as she met his eyes.

“I’m so sorry darling,” Hyunjin was sure if she told him to leave now he’d cry the whole way back to the dorms.

“Come in. Let’s talk,” Y/n let him inside.

Hyunjin stepped into the familiar apartment and followed her over to the couch. He put the food and coffe on the table and sat on the ground in front of her.

“(name) knows when my birthday is hyune,” Y/n stated

“I knew something was off yesterday,” Hyunjin sighed

“What’s that mean?”

“She showed up at the dorm, damn near right as I rolled out of bed and asked me to go shopping with her.”

“Took advantage of you’re sleepiness, huh?”

“Yeah. Thinking back on it she almost made sure I wasn’t looking at my phone yesterday, and was being super clingy,” Hyunjin’s face scruched up at the thought.

“Yeah. She likes you hyune. I noticed when I first met her. I didn’t want to seem like the controlling girlfriend so I didn’t say anything,” Y/n explained as she ran her hands through his hair

“I would never think you’re controlling, love,” Hyunjin moved up to the couch and pulled her into his arms, “I really am sorry about forgetting about you love.’’

“I forgive you darling, (name) is to blame.”

“Think I should stop being friends with her.”

“Do what’s best for you darling. I’ll support you either way.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

HAN

Han practically was running around the dorm getting everything he needed. His friends were a bit concerned but there was no stopping him from getting out the door. He quickly yelled bye and that he was going to his girlfriends to his friends and rushed to the car. The car ride is what he dreaded, time wise he hated it. His leg bounced up and down. He’d just barely managed to text Y/n that he was on his way over after picking up his take out order and was waiting for a reply.

He felt it buzz in his hand and was a bit disappointed when he saw it was a text from (name) about wanting to hang out again today

Han: can’t. I completely forgot about Y/n’s birthday yesterday. I’m hanging out with her today. (Name): that’s why I asked to hang out with you yesterday ji… you spend a lot of time with her. Forgot about me Han: you purposely hung out with me on my girlfriends birthday and didn’t think to mention it??? (Name): that would’ve defeated the purpose of us spending time together. Y/n’s kinda a gold-digger Han: are you fucking serious rn? (Name): no need to cuss Han: I almost had a panic attack this morning when I woke up and relized i ditched my girlfriend on her birthday. Now you’re calling her a gold-digger?? She’s never once asked me for anything financially or tried to get money out of me. (Name): sorry. Didn’t know she was actually more important than me Han: it was her birthday? I’ve spent your birthday with you before, and while I was with Y/n too and she was perfectly fine with it. Why aren’t you? (Name): If you don’t know, figure it out Han: Don’t contact me again (name).

The only shinning light from that conversation was he was pulling up to Y/n’s apartment building by the time he locked his phone. He grabbed everything he brought with him and thanked the driver has the car came to a stop. Han got out and rushed up to his girlfriends apartment and knocking on the door.

Y/n got up from the couch and walked to her door as she heard the knock. She opened the door and looked at her boyfriend.

“I’m so unbelievably sorry baby,” Han started

“Come in,” Y/n stepped aside and let him inside. He walked into her kitchen and set down the food and gifts as she joined him, “It’s going to take more than food and an ‘im sorry’.” Y/n said

“Would me telling you that I told (Name) not to contact me anymore help?”

“Possibly,” He could see the smile on her lips

“You have to tell me why you guys don’t get along though.”

“She’s undoubtedly in love with you and i’m pretty sure she’s also one of those girls who wants easy fame.”

“That explains the gold-digger part.”

“Did she call me a fucking gold-digger?!”

“Here.” Jisung handed her his phone and let her read through the conversation. Y/n took the phone and sat on the kitchen counter as she read through the conversation. Han stood inbetween her legs and placed his hands on her thighs.

“What a fucking bitch.” Y/n said, “And she’s still texting you.”

“I’m not dealing with her right now.”

Jisung took his phone and tossed it onto the counter, “I’m really sorry though. I just woke up and she was there.”

“I just don’t know how you didn’t realize she was in love with you. She’s always trying to practically be on you.”

“Because i’m absolutely in love with you and want you, twenty-four-seven.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Y/n cupped his face and pecked his lips

FELIX

Felix felt terrible. He doesn’t know how he got his dates mixed up or how he just completely ignored his phone all day. The car ride made him realize that (name) had a tendency to drag him into doing things with her when she knew Felix had plans with Y/n. And he was too nice to say no most of the time.

He thanked the driver as he got out of the car to head up to her home. He knocked on the door and waited a few minutes before she opened the door. “Let me apologize flower.”

No one could stay made and Felix, not even his girlfriend. There was a certain air about him that just made you happy to be around him and kiss his freckled cheeks.

“Okay,” Y/n let him inside and closed the door behind him. Felix set the container of brownies in her kitchen before he met her in the living. Y/n sat on the couch as he came back in and sat down next to her, arm over the back of the couch behind her.

“I’m really sorry about not answering you yesterday flower. I know (name) does this a lot.”

“I can understand it every other time lix. You guys were friends well before I was in the picture. Yeah it hurts sometimes, but—”

“Hey, no buts. I shouldn’t even be canceling premade plans with you for her. Especially not on you’re birthday. That was fucked up of me.”

“It was. That hurt a lot.”

“I know, I need to stop agreeing to hang out with her whenever she wants.” Felix pulled Y/n into her chest adn wrapped his arms around her. “I’ll talk to her later about it.”

“Yeah, you owe me cuddles and brownies for that bullshit.”

“I’ll throw some kisses in there too.” Felix chuckled and smothered her face with kisses

SEUNGMIN

If Seungmin was one thing, he was persistent. So it didn’t surprise Y/n one bit that after she had told him to go home that he proceeded to knock on the door for two minutes straight. Y/n got fed up with the noise and opened the door and glared at him.

“Go home,” Y/n told him, closing the door.

At least tried to. Seungmin stopped it with his foot. Y/n opened the door and glared at him again. Trying not to look at the food and flowers—both her favorites— otherwise she’d break too fast.

“Please bub. Let’s talk about it. Do you really think I would forget your birthday on purpose?”

“Get in. I don’t wanna make a scene for the neighbors.”

Seungmin stepped inside and turned back, “I’m really sorry bubs.”

“That’s not gonna take back the fact you forgot my birthday and went out with a girl who clearly doesn’t like me.”

Y/n felt the water hanging heavy on her tear line as she walked into the living room. She hadn’t liked seungmin’s friend in question since she had met her. Y/n tried being civil since (name) was there before her, but the side eye (name) gave her once seungmin wasn’t looking told her everything. They weren’t going to get along. And it frustrated her immensely.

“Hey bubs,” Seungmin followed her into the living room as she plopped down on the couch, grabbing a throw pillow and hugged it close to her chest. He set down the flowers and food container and kneeled down in front of her, “Talk to me. Did (name) say or do something?”

“Would it matter?”

“Yes. You're the girl I'm dating, not (name). Bubs,” he grabbed hold of her face and wiped the tears away

“I don’t want to cause issues between you guys though. You were friends before we met. I don’t want to be that girlfriend.”

“Bubs, I’m well aware (name) has a thing for me. I’ve told her before it’s not ever happening. I thought it was over and done with,” Seungmin explained

“When?”

“A month after we started dating.”

“Yeah, she heavily side-eyes me whenever i’m around her. Never said anything, I just know she doesn’t like me.”

“Well, she can deal with it. I’m not playing this game with her anymore. I’d rather keep you than her.”

“Why?”

“Because you make me so extremely happy that sometimes I don’t know what to do. And I’m so sorry I let her drag me out with her. I really am bubby. I love you,” Seungmin leaned up and kissed her forehead. He never said those words often. Y/n smiled and pulled him up to the couch, replacing the pillow with him and cuddling up to him as he chuckled at her, nonetheless wrapping his arms around her.

“I love you too pup.”

I.N

Y/n barely spared a glance at her boyfriend when she opened the door. She grabbed the food from his outstretched hands and walked back to her kitchen. Jeongin followed inside, locking the apartment door behind him.

He followed her to the kitchen, she was grabbing out a fork for the food as he walked in.

“I didn't mean to ditch you yesterday bun. She showed up at the dorm and dragged me out yesterday. I feel really bad,” Jeongin pulled her on for a hug and nuzzled his head into her neck

“I can't be mad at you when acting all cute and shit when you hug me,” Y/n sighed and hugged him back.

“It's part of my charm.”

Y/n laughed at him as he looked up and kissed her cheek, “Eat your breakfast.”

Y/n are the food he brought, occasionally feeding some to him as well.

“Oh, I told (name) not to talk to me anymore by the way. She didn't take it well,” Jeongin told her as they finished the food

“Why?” Y/n asked as she cleaned up

“She was acting like it was a date yesterday, trying to hang off my side. It just wasn't comfortable for me.”

“She was your best friend and didn't know you hate physical touch?”

“Most. I don't mind you touching me bun,” the maknae pulled her into him and kissed her lips

M. LIST ✧ TIP JAR

T A G S ✧ @junebug032 @the-sweetest-rose @hanjingin @hyunjinshairband01 @miintmochii @ohish@changbinisabigboy @dreamingaboutjisung @tattywood @stepout-09-15 @cello--190 @just-randomm-stuff @greysweaters @hazyspirts @mhasimp666 @slay-and-gay @smally97 @bloom4yu @itstorimf @linoyouknow @fjseung @jungsodesjoyyy @jjwhorehouse @carinathefairy @litepowee @babyphotos @inniecore @jeonginssa @dolceem @stvrfir3 @tasteskz-sworld @ultimatestayandminoronce @seungincore @tinyelfperson

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discordantwritings · 14 days

Text

Discipline (Crocodile x Reader)

Warnings: Fem! Reader, mean dom Crocodile, bratty Reader, spanking, fingering, orgasm denial, overstimulation, PiV sex, inappropriate use of Crocodile’s hook, creampie

WC: 4K

Summary: Despite your dad’s warnings you decide to go have some fun at Rain Dinners. Sir Crocodile decides to keep an eye out for you- but he’s not expecting just how unreceptive you’d be towards his help. Seems like he will have to teach you some lessons…

Notes: I just like when he’s mean ok

Tagging: @keiva1000 @fanaticsnail

“Are you sure you want to come? You know how dangerous some of these people are…” Your father’s worried voice causes you to hesitate on your way out the door.

“Dad, it’s not like anyone would hurt me, they know I’m your daughter. And besides- you never let me have fun I just want to play at the casino! I probably won’t interact with any of your contacts.” You do your best not to be annoyed with him, he’s well meaning but overly paranoid- although that’s probably why he’s been so successful in dealing with so many pirates.

“Just- promise me you you’ll do your best to keep safe alright?” He looks at you with earnest that melts any budding defiance you had.

“Of course.” You wrap your arms around your dad’s shoulders and pull him into a tight hug.

“Alright kiddo let’s get going.” He squeezes you once before letting go and opening the door for you, letting you lead the way to Rain Dinners.

You knew it was going to be loud but nothing could prepare you for the overlapping sounds of slot machines, roulette tables, cards, and yelling all coming together in a wall of noise. While off putting for a second you quickly adjusted- the loud hustle and bustle was just what you wanted to experience. Bouncing on the balls of your feet you give your dad a thumbs up before bounding off further into the casino, ignoring the worry on his face.

You quickly find yourself at a blackjack table- the only game you have some confidence in your ability to not lose all your berry immediately- and strike up friendly conversation with the people already at the table. You’re not ignorant of the way some of the men lean in when you talk, the way the man sitting next you tried to guide your choices. The attention was exactly what you wanted, giggling as you played dumb and let the man on your right explain to you that you should always double on an eleven as if you didn’t know that already. The attention rode the line on smothering- which is why you noticed when everyone suddenly went cold and glued their eyes to the table.

“Find another table.” A gruff voice sounded to your right and for a second you think it’s directed at you but when you see the man sitting next to you scramble away without his chips you realize what’s going on.

Sir Crocodile, owner of Rain Dinners and notorious pirate slides into the seat next to you, golden hook absently counting the chips left on the table. You can’t help but stare at him, broad shoulders pushing into your space and imposing presence making everyone else at the table slowly collect their chips and leave.

“Don’t tell me I’m getting kicked out already.” You smile up at him, already mapping the features of his handsome face.

“No, certainly not. You’re a valuable customer.” There’s a twinge of sarcasm to his voice that has you raising your eyebrow.

“Now don’t sound so enthusiastic.” You watch as he slides a bet forward and you do the same, letting the dealer get the round started.

“Your father called in a favor.” The dealer is showing a ten and you frown at your sixteen.

“Do I want to know what my dad did to get a favor from you?” You joke but Crocodile is still gravely serious.

“No.” Of course he has twenty in front of him so he waves and leaves you to pick your move.

“I’ll hit.” You tap the table and the dealer flips a card- a five.

Crocodile scoffs next to you as the dealer flips over his own seventeen. You shoot him a look as he lights an expensive cigar.

“You don’t hit on sixteens? It’s statistically even, one way isn’t better than the other.” You explain yourself but Crocodile just shrugs you off.

“I just don’t like seeing berry leave my casino.”

“Well I’m not leaving yet.” You slide another bet forward and Crocodile does the same.

“I doubt playing with me is the thrilling night out you wanted, you should just take your small winnings and get out of here.” As he does his best to dismiss you you realize exactly what your dad has done.

“He called in a favor for you to be my babysitter tonight didn’t he?” Crocodile rolls his eyes and you know you’re right. “He’s so… sometimes I don’t think he realizes I’m an adult.”

“Barely.” He scoffs and you glare back.

“More than barely. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to- I’m perfectly fine in a casino by myself.” You focus back on the table as you win another hand.

“I can’t imagine you weren’t aware of the way the sharks were circling you.”

“I was. And I was in control of the situation. I wanted the attention.” As you talk Crocodile pauses, turning slightly to face you more.

“You don’t realize how dangerous most of these people are.” You feel like you’re being talked down to like a child.

“What? And being alone with you is so much better. You’re not going to hurt me because it would ruin your relationship with my dad. The rest of them would do the same.” You stare him down but he just laughs at you.

“Oh, sweetheart, no one wants to hurt you. Those men wanted to take advantage of you.”

It’s your turn to laugh. “It’s not taking advantage of me if I want it.”

You watch as his eyes scan your face for a second before a grin settles on his face. “Your dad was right to have me watch over you.”

“I highly doubt you would care enough to stop me from going off and doing whatever- or whoever I want.” You fire back, blackjack game long forgotten.

“If you had done that before we had this conversation you would have been right. But now? I think you need to learn some manners.”

“Manners? Excuse me?” You can’t even get in his face, his figure towers over you even as you both sit.

“Yes, manners. Your father gets a very powerful man to protect you for the night and this is how you treat that kindness? With a bratty attitude?” You’re getting under his skin, his fist balled in his lap evidence of his waning patience.

“You’re stopping me from having a good night out. I think I have a little right to be pissed.” You say, dodging the probably appropriate brat label.

“You really don’t know how those disgusting men would treat you.”

“Oh- I am fully aware. Didn’t you hear me before? I want to be taken advantage of.” You push yourself up a bit to get some more height as you lower your voice. “I want one of those disgusting men to take me home. Well, honestly I’d settle for one of the very nice bathrooms here. Oh I bet there are some nice secluded alleyways around here… I don’t mind a brick wall if I’m being fucked well enough.”

The vulgarity of your words catches him off guard for a second and you let a smug smile come over your face- only for it to be quickly wiped away as Crocodile literally throws you over his shoulder.

“What the fuck!” You yell as he starts walking somewhere. “Put me down you piece of shit!”

Your objections fall on deaf ears as you’re hauled into an elevator and taken to some higher floor. You huff and stop yelling as he gets off the elevator and practically throws you onto a plush couch. When your brain orients itself you find yourself in a very nice office- one you quickly put together is Crocodile’s.

“What am I doing here?” You ask as he walks to his desk and sits behind it, already getting out paperwork.

“This is where I can keep an eye on you so you don’t do anything stupid tonight.” He explains like it’s a basic fact.

“Seriously? You can just kick me out of your casino instead of putting me in this weird time out.”

“I told your father I would watch after you tonight. As much as I want to kick you out I wouldn’t be holding up my end of the deal.”

“Perfect. Great. Whatever.” You pull your legs up on the couch and lay down. “So tomorrow night-“

“You’re not allowed back.”

“You could be at least a little fun.”

“I’m not really known for my levity.”

“Clearly.”

The room falls silence except for the scratch of his pen and the occasional shuffle of paper. You let your gaze drift over to him as he works. His large coat was draped over the back of his chair, leaving him in just his vest and button up shirt. You could probably watch the way his muscles subtly flex under the tight fabric of his shirt for hours. And so you let yourself watch, rolling over and perching your head up to at least give yourself some entertainment. You get probably 15 minutes of this before Crocodile’s eyes meet your own and his brows furrow.

“What?” You ask, smug smile on your face once again.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” You play innocent, head tilting slightly.

He doesn’t play into your game. “Staring.”

“Ok so I can’t play in the casino and I can’t even look at you so what am I supposed to do? Just lay here and stare at the ceiling?”

“Yes.”

You groan and dramatically flop onto your back. “Fucking impossible.”

“Well, when you act like a child you get treated like one.” He comments and that causes you to sit upright.

“Really? This again?”

“You’re throwing a temper tantrum so, yes.”

You get up and stalk over to his desk, standing on the opposite side and slamming your hands down, which in hindsight was not helping your case. “Let me leave.”

“No.” He ignores you and continues on his paperwork.

You walk around his desk and are about to rip some of the paper off of it but Crocodile is fast and the point of his hook is at your neck before you can blink. Adrenaline rushes though your veins as you fight to stay still as the cold metal threatens to pierce your skin. Crocodile hasn’t even gotten up from his seat, simply turned just enough so his hook can reach you. His gaze is cold as he looks you up and down and you feel fear creep up your spine.

“Do you know what I would have done to you if your father wasn’t a close contact of mine?” He asks, voice even.

“Kill me?” You guess, given the deadly weapon a few inches from ripping open your throat.

“Oh, no.” He stands up, moving slow and deliberately so his body towers over you and cages you against his desk with the point of his hook still at your throat. “I would have fucked this bratty attitude out of you on that blackjack table.”

Fear quickly bleeds into arousal, warming your skin and stomach. The power he holds over you is absolute there’s not a single doubt in your mind he could and would kill you- and for some reason that made you want him more. You test how much you can move, leaning back into his desk with both your arms behind you for support. The hook follows you but the movement doesn’t draw any punishment. Looking into his eyes you use your support to push yourself up to sit on the desk, already short dress riding further up your thighs. You watch his gaze dart down to your legs for a second and you know you’ve won.

“In front of all those people?” You press your neck gently into the point of his hook. “Took you for someone a little more private.”

“No one would dare look.” His hook drags upwards and settles under your chin, forcing you to keep eye contact.

You don’t move your head but you open up your thighs, the fabric of your dress bunched up where your ass sits on the desk. He keeps eye contact with you but you know he’s felt your movement as he steps forward, his large thighs now keeping your knees apart.

“You really think you can break my resolve?” He asks, voice low and gravely.

“I think I can convince you that you’re a very smart man who knows that I’ll keep this a secret from my father. Or…” You hum. “That this already looks very very bad for you. I could run down to my dad right now and say you… debauched me. Everyone already saw you take me over your shoulder and up to your very private-“

“That’s it.”

Before you can react Crocodile grabs your hips and forces you to turn, chest pressed against his desk and ass displayed for him. He shoves your dress up to your hips, fully revealing the incredibly small thong you wore tonight. His hook presses between your shoulder blades as his hand rubs over your ass, grabbing handfuls occasionally.

“Maybe I can teach you a lesson.” His hand stills and you look over your shoulder at him.

“What? Gonna make me beg-“

Your words are cut off by a harsh slap to your ass, the sting of skin on skin making your grip tighten on the wood of the desk. His hand rubs over the red mark forming as you see and feel him lean over you.

“I am going to make you beg. That smart little mouth is going to be doing nothing but pleading with me.” One of his fingers finds its way under the strap of your thong around your hip, pulling it up until you think it’s going to break before letting go and letting it snap against your skin. “Don’t worry. You’ll get off if you learn to be obedient.”

“Don’t you think for a second you fucking reptile-“ You hear the spank before you feel it and you have to bite down on your cheek as the pain blooms out from the impact.

“You can call me sir and nothing else.” He growls, pinching the spot he just hit causing tears to well up in your eyes.

“Fuck you.” You spit back, only to earn another swift hit that further presses you against the desk.

“That’s not how you get what you want.” His fingers go beneath the strap of your thong again, this time pulling the thin fabric over your crotch. “Although by the looks of it I’d say this is what you want.”

Your face burns red as you realize that he can see how soaking wet you are, slick drenching the scrap of fabric between his fingers. “Don’t get cocky.”

“Still so much attitude…” He sighs.

He pulls on the fabric until it snaps, ripping it free from your body. His foot kicks at one of yours, forcing your legs wide suddenly. There’s another swift hit to your ass that has you swearing under your breath but his hand lingers, fingers dipping between your thighs. You moan as a thick finger shoves its way inside you, easily slipping in with how wet you are. A second finger stretches you open and with how worked up you’ve been the whole night it’s not surprising that you already feel so close to your orgasm. You press your hips back to get him deeper but just as you feel like you’re getting close his fingers leave you.

“No! Fuck!” You try to stand up but his hook shoved you right back into the desk.

“What? Did you really think I was going to let you cum?” His hand continues to grope your ass, dragging your slick across your skin.

“You’re a piece of shit.” You mumble and he laughs.

“This could all be over. You could just be a good girl and I’d let you cum on my fingers or my cock… but you keep choosing to be a brat.” His fingers dip between your folds again. “You’ll come around eventually.”

Now you had a goal, if you could just get there faster before Crocodile realizes you’ll have beaten him. As his fingers slowly work into you you do your best to will yourself to orgasm faster but he can feel the way your walls react and is able to pull out again before you get too close. You yell as Crocodile chuckles at you, reveling in your suffering.

“It’s so easy. C’mon now.” His fingers press into you again and you feel like you’re going mad.

This cycle repeats until you lose track of how many times your orgasm has been ripped away from you. He can’t keep his fingers in you for more than a few seconds before you’re about to orgasm now, your body on edge and strung out. You’re not sure what’s the last straw- but you break.

“Please.” Your voice is hoarse as you plead quietly.

“What’s that?” Crocodile stops his movements and leans in closer to you.

“Please!” You repeat, louder.

“Not quite- I know you know better.” His hook rubs between your shoulder blades.

“Please, sir.”

But just when you thought that would be enough, he moves the goalpost. “Much better, but I know you could do just a little more. You had all these vulgar words before… where did those go? Are you suddenly shy?”

There’s still a small part of you that wants to fight back at those words, but you’ve come so far at this point that the bratty voice inside is easily snubbed out. You look over your shoulder at him, face stained with tears and swallow your pride.

“Please let me cum sir. On your fingers, on your cock, fuck I’ll take your hook just please-“ You plead and you’re afraid it’s not enough when he pulls back and sits down in his office chair.

You wait a few seconds before you slowly stand up straight and look back at Crocodile. He’s sitting with his legs wide in his large chair, hands slowly working at the buttons on his pants that strain against his large bulge. You watch, entranced, as the buttons open and he drags the waistband of his boxers down under his cock to free it. When his movements pause you look up at his face and he smiles, a single finger beckoning you over.

Your wobbly legs manage to carry you the short distance and he guides you to straddle his lap. His hand moves his cock so his tip drags against your folds and you move your hands to his shoulders to steady yourself. When he stops moving you take the initiative to slowly lower yourself onto his cock, both of you moaning as he fills you up. Taking him would have been a struggle if he hasn’t already been edging you for god knows how long, but even so you feel his girth stretch your walls close to their limit.

“Fuck- see? Being a good girl is so much better isn’t it?” His hand firmly grips your hip while his hook rests behind your back.

“It’s- it’s nice.” You relent, but wiggle your hips to encourage him to move.

“Just nice?” His head tilts and he has a smug grin on his face.

“What do I have to say to get you to move?” You snap back, brattiness threatening to rear its head again.

“Oh, sweetie. You wanted this so bad, you’re going to do the work yourself.” He leans back into the chair, hand now loose on your hip.

“But-“ You start to protest but he cuts you off.

“You still need to make up for your attitude. Now, be a good girl and fuck yourself on my cock.”

You want to be angry. You want to smack that smug look off his face. You want to spit in his eyes and leave him here. But more than any of that some deep traitorous part of you wants to be a good girl for him. That maybe making him cum too would earn you some respect or praise. And most of all you just need an orgasm.

Your thighs are already burning as you raise yourself up, you have to use the support of his shoulders as you try not to let the drag of his cock take away your little remaining control over your legs. Dropping yourself back down is a relief in more ways than one- your muscles getting a short break while his cock hits deep inside you. Just one thrust has you needing a break, leaning forward to press your forehead to his.

“That’s it-“ His thumb rubs over your hip in a surprisingly soft move. “You’re so close already, I can feel you tightening around me.”

You nod wordlessly as you raise yourself up again, mouth hanging open as you savor every inch of him. When you drop yourself down you hold yourself there, grinding your hips down, chasing the sensations you need to bring you over the edge.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me and cum all over my cock?” He asks, and those filthy words send your orgasm crashing over you.

The release after so much denial is overwhelming, stars swimming in your vision as your head collapses on Crocodile’s shoulder. You’re confident you’ve made a mess of his very expensive pants but you’re also sure you don’t care. Crocodile doesn’t give you a second to rest though.

His strong hand maneuvers you around, twisting you until your back is to his chest and your legs are over top of his. You make a noise of confusion, unable to form words, but are quickly shushed.

“I’ll do the work this time- don’t worry.” You can still hear the that smug smile but you suddenly don’t care when he starts thrusting up into you.

The new angle paired with the fact you were still feeling your orgasm has you practically screaming, reaching up and behind you to tangle your fingers in his dark hair. Every rough thrust hits your bruised ass, sparking new pain that you are learning you love.

“Fucking tight- see this is all you needed huh? A good fucking? Next time maybe I’ll get all those mean words out of your mouth by shoving my cock down your throat- shit- I feel how much you like that idea.” His arm is holding you tight against his chest as he says all these nasty things into your ear.

“Sir-“ Your body feels like it’s on fire, overheated, overstimulated, and every inch of his cock drains what’s left of you.

“I know baby-“ He coos, and you feel the cold metal of his hook trail on your thigh. “Just need you to cum one more time, get me off like a good girl-“

The outside curve of his hook travels up your thigh and finds your clit, the sensation of the hard cold metal unlike anything you’ve ever felt there. He presses down firmly as his thrusts become faster and less consistent and despite having cum just a few minutes ago you’re pushed over the edge to another orgasm. Crocodile isn’t far behind you, burying himself inside your contracting walls and cumming deep inside you.

The two of you sit there in silence, both catching your breath as you feel his cum slowly leak out of you. He still has you held close to his chest and you can’t help but relax back into his hold, back of your head resting on his shoulder.

“So…” You break the silence first. “Am I still banned from the casino?”

“As far as your father is concerned? Yes. But don’t worry, I’ll show you where the back entrance is.” His nose brushes against your neck as he speaks. “I’m sure you’ll need a lot more discipline to keep you in check.”

And despite how absolutely destroyed you feel, you think that’s exactly what you’ll need too.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #x reader #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile x you #sir crocodile x you #discordantwritings

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peachypinkygloss · 1 year

Text

cutest bunny — kth

You have a little surprise for your boyfriend on the occasion of your couple's anniversary. But before he unwraps his gift, he wants to finish the game he started.

❤︎ pairing: dom!taehyung x sub/fem!reader

❤︎ genre: established relationship, smut

❤︎ word count: 4k

❤︎ warnings: gamer bf tae, hard dom tae 🤓, cute bunny lingerie (that's what she's wearing 👉🏻 🐰), pet play, master kink, rough spanking, praising & degradation, face fucking (really light ☺️), unprotected sex, breeding kink (we don't change a winning team!!).

a.n.: wooo we're at 1.5k followers! 👏🏻 what about a taehyung fic to celebrate? 💋thank you, @yutagl0w, my sweet, sweet baby for helping me throughout this fic (and typically everything else) and giving me those gorgeous ideas! what would I do without you, baby!?

playing: Unfold

Please, reblog! It helps me a lot and my fic gets more visibility :)

Taehyung really likes pet play. If him calling you bunny, the cutest bunny, isn't proof of it, well, he's been fooling you your whole relationship. But you know he likes it. Very much.

Kneeling at his feet when he's gaming or simply scrolling on his phone, patting your head when he's proud of you, making you crawl on the floor to follow him to the bedroom, calling him Master... He's really into it.

There are things you still haven't explored yet, and when you saw the bunny lingerie on your TikTok feed, you instantly fell in love. You knew right away that he'd like it, so you ordered it without telling him, of course.

The package came and you were happy to see all the items; the bunny ears, the choker, the thong with the cute fluffy tail attached to it and everything in pink. The perfect outfit for a heated night with your boyfriend.

So the day of your anniversary, you decide you'd put it on and surprise him with it. You both agreed on not buying gifts, but this present will please the both of you anyway.

"Taehyungie..." You happily say his name to catch his attention that is currently focused on his computer's screen.

"Hm?" He hums, inviting you to tell him what you have to say and glimpsing your way. He double checks, not sure if he imagined you half nude or not.

He raises his eyebrows when he gets a look of your outfit, scanning your whole body without saying a word. Was it a good idea...? You're not as sure anymore when he looks at you this way. He eyes you up and down and removes one of his headphones from his ear, putting his game on pause.

You quickly realize that Taehyung is quite thrilled by your outfit, after all. You can just tell with the way his eyes are glued to your body, liking how your pink bra hugs your breasts perfectly and how you look so pretty right now.

His tongue darts out to lick his plump lips, leaning back in his gaming chair and spreading his legs apart. "Twirl around," he orders you and you execute yourself, satisfied with your boyfriend's reaction. He bites down on his lip when he catches the bunny tail on your lower back, enjoying this even more. "What's that, baby? Is it for me?"

The corners of your lips instantly lift up to form a smile and you nod your head. You lock your hands behind your back, shyly waiting for what else Taehyung's going to say. He frowns slightly, tapping his bottom lip with his index finger while his pretty head is reflecting.

"Come here," he invites you and when you do, he stops you. "No, bunnies don't walk, do they?" He asks you sarcastically, tilting his head to the side, registering every one of your moves.

You hesitantly crouch down, placing your hands on the floor by your sides to keep your balance. His eyes follow you closely, clearly loving this current situation where he puts you in a degrading position.

"You really want me to hop...?"

At that, Taehyung looks at you disappointedly. "What's this slutty outfit for, then, hm? You wanna put bunny ears on, you gotta act like one, baby," he tells you like it's obvious and you feel your cheeks heating up from embarrassment. "Come on, don't make me wait."

You prompt yourself on your tiptoes and make a leap towards him, hopping until you reach his feet. Then, you look up at him and sit on your knees, hands on your thighs.

He extends one arm toward your face and caresses your cheek gently, making you lean on his touch. "Such an obedient bunny," he praises and you can't refrain yourself from smiling, almost purring, too.

He pinches your cheek and shakes it, giving you a light smack on the face after. You feel heat pooling between your legs at that, turned on by Taehyung's dominant behaviour.

He turns back around to face his PC and you position yourself between his legs, fitting yourself under his desk. You look at him gullibly, pouting as your boyfriend's attention leaves you to resume his game instead.

You bring yourself closer to him, tugging on his grey joggers. "Master..." You call him with a hint of sadness in your voice.

Taehyung briefly glances down at you before looking up at his PC's screen again. "Shhh. Be a good bunny and let me finish my game, yeah?" He instructs you and a sigh doesn't miss to leave your mouth. He replaces his headphone over his ear correctly and takes his controller back in hands.

You lay your face down on his thigh, basically sitting at his feet like the good bunny he wants you to be. He passes his arms over your body as you rest between his legs, watching his thumbs skillfully move the joysticks around and his fingers press on the controller's buttons.

You stay like that for a couple of minutes before something more interesting catches your attention. You sneak a manicured hand between his legs to reach his crotch. At first, Taehyung doesn't seem to react, so you continue touching him through his sweatpants. You feel his cock under your palm and it's enough to turn you totally insatiable.

He's concentrated on his computer's screen, not minding you any attention. You pout even more, but it only encourages you to go further. You palm his soft dick, having one goal in mind; making him hard.

You approach your head closer to his crotch and kiss his clothed cock while still running your hand over him. You notice him frowning, a crease forming between his soft, dark eyebrows. You smile for yourself at that.

Considering Taehyung's high libido, you know his mind is running wild right now, as wild as yours. It's not difficult to make him horny, in fact, he's pretty much always craving sexual intimacy. There's just one tiny detail to keep in mind, though; his stamina is endless. So if you start, you're in for a long time.

That's why he likes to play and tease before initiating anything. The wait is so thrilling that every touch and literally every breath turn you into a brainless stupid girlfriend. Even now, the situation might be more painful to you than to him who's going to get his dick sucked.

So you pass your hand under his sweatpants, finding his bulge immediately. He only takes a deep breath when your fingers brush against his penis, eyes still glued on the screen. You caress him a little harder, really giving the friction he needs to get hard. You absolutely love his size, long and big. Well, you love everything about his dick, to be honest. Especially the fact that it's your boyfriend's.

You position yourself better and don't hesitate to free his cock out of his briefs. You look up and see him biting down on his bottom lip, trying not to react at your ministrations. He's so gorgeous and his cute moles are visible from where you are, his face illuminated by the computer's screen producing light in the dark bedroom.

You stroke his cock a couple of times and you're satisfied to see it slowly but surely hardening under your hand. You hum appreciatively and take the tip in your mouth, just suckling on it for the moment. You give his dick lots of love, mouthing the head and moving your palm up and down over the rest.

After some minutes of loving work, his pretty cock stands tall against his brown t-shirt. You sense his arms moving around you and he shifts in his seat, spreading his legs further apart. You understand he's silently telling you to keep going. You gladly pursue your actions.

You lick the underside of his long erection, down to his balls and up to his dark pink tip. You feel the vein on your tongue and you press your thighs against each other, already needy for his cock in your pulsating pussy.

A couple of licks and kisses later, you wrap your lips around him and lower your head on the whole of his length. It takes you time and some breaths to reach his pelvis, but you eventually do it. After all, he trained you well for this.

You bob your head at a regular pace, knowing that it turns Taehyung crazy. You make sure to stroke the rest that doesn't fit with your palm, since it's safer for you to take what you can in your mouth. Your bunny ears get in the way, the headband bumping against his chest each time you bottom out, though you don't bother to take it off.

"Ah, shit," he hisses and you glimpse his way, watching him grit his teeth as you bounce your head on his hard cock. He's heavy on your tongue and he tastes deliciously.

You wiggle your hips happily and your bunny tail catches Taehyung's eyes. He clenches his jaw, wanting nothing more but to spank your ass until you're crying fat tears. Good pets know how to behave around their owners, and you're not acting like one.

You're distracting him from his game and it's with no surprise that he loses it. He removes his headphones hastily, discarding them and his controller on his desk. He doesn't even bother to leave the game, staying on the game over screen.

You only realize he stopped playing when he pushes your head down on him, forcefully keeping you in place over his dick, balls touching your chin. "Fucking brat," he says angrily, gripping your hair so tightly it makes your scalp hitch.

You start gagging around his cock, drool dripping down to his balls and down to the chair. When you think you're going to choke around dick, he pulls on your hair and yanks your head up. His erection falls out of your mouth and you cough, eyes watery.

He slaps your cheek with his other hand, making you flinch and turn your head to the side from the force of the smack. It could've been harder, but you feel your skin tingle. "I told you to let me finish, and now you made me lose," he scowls you and you pout, this time because you feel bad for acting selfishly.

He lets go of your hair and stands up, stuffing his erect penis back into his boxers. He takes a hold of your bicep and pulls you up on your feet, looking at him baffled. "I'm sorry..." You mumble, face to face with Taehyung.

You hold in your breath, locking eyes with your boyfriend. He casually readjusts the bunny ears on your head, a gesture so soft it has you disconcerted for a second, before he turns you around and bends you over his desk. Some of his stuff falls on the ground, but he pays no mind to it.

"You're gonna pay for it," he threatens you and you shudder in desire. He lays his hands on your butt, palming it and admiring it before he wrecks it with his handprint.

He plays briefly with the straps of your pink thong, licking his lips as he eyes the fluffy white ball attached to it. You form two fists with your hands, refraining yourself from moving, not wanting to disobey your boyfriend — your Master again.

He strokes one cheek with his large palm, preparing you before the harsh punishment, almost like a warning. A delicious and exciting warning. And then he gives you a violent smack, the sound of skin hitting skin resonating in the room, the stinging pain making you wince and moan.

"You fucking like that, hm?" He asks you, voice filled with malice. But before you can even speak, he spanks you again, this time harder. The hit makes your ass jiggle and Taehyung doesn't wait a second to slap it for a third time. "Of course, you do. You're just a dumb little bunny..."

He smacks the other cheek, gripping the flesh after, kneading it in his big palm. He smacks it again and again. There's no time for you to take a break, except when he's caressing you, that's the only opportunity where you can take a breath, really. He slaps your ass with such hardness it has you crying like Taehyung fantasies earlier when you had his cock in your mouth.

You whine, loving your punishment even though you shouldn't, but you can't help it. Your skin burns, and you don't really care, nor does he. You've been a bad bunny, that's what you deserve.

"Mas-" You get cut off by a spank, gasping between the two syllables. "-ster!" You moan out, face squished against the surface of the desk, arching your back to keep your ass up in the air for Taehyung.

"Liking what I do to your poor little ass, bunny?" He speaks up, soothing the sore skin of your butt. "Liking getting spanked by your Master?" His husky voice fills the air, reaching your ear, but you have a difficult time to register what he's saying.

You take longer to answer so he slaps you again. "Yes, yes... I love it, Master," you affirm, agreeing with him because otherwise you would be lying. And Taehyung's always right anyway.

He soon comes to a halt, giving your sore skin a little break. He grips your hips and makes you straighten your back, spinning you around. His lips instantly catch yours, stealing your breath, whining throughout the feverish kiss you're sharing.

Though you want his mouth against yours forever, he breaks it and creates a small gap between your two bodies. "On the floor," he commands and you kneel in front of him. You look up at him through your eyelashes, noticing him pulling his joggers and underwear down. "Since you wanted to suck my cock so bad, I'm gonna make you choke on it."

"But Tae-"

"No, shut up," he severely orders and you seal your mouth shut. You watch his erection springs free, already salivating at the beautiful sight he offers you.

He holds the back of your head and guides his dick toward your mouth. You open wide, a little bit sad Taehyung's mad at you, but still really, really turned on.

He stuffs your mouth full of his cock, going in all the way down your throat. No time for you to breathe, no time for you to even think properly. He keeps you in place, veins producing on his arm as he uses his force to make you take his fat cock in your mouth.

You whimper around him and he observes you from above, groaning his pleasure. His fluffy bangs cover his eyes, but you can still see them looking at you, so much hunger and desire in them. He bites down on his lip again and it's almost ridiculous how he looks so hot right now.

He makes you bounce your head on him, drool dripping down your chin and down to your breasts. It's messy and he can't get enough. He can see your ass from his point of view, your little bunny tail saying hi to him. He moans loudly, gripping your hair really tightly, guiding your head up and down his length.

He shaved a couple of days ago so you can feel his growing pubic hair tingling your lips and nose each down he bottoms out. The feeling makes your stomach flutter and you wiggle your ass, just so happy to be used by your Master in such a filthy way.

"Aah, good bunny, such a good bunny..." He says under his breath and this makes you feel great hearing him praise you. With his other he lifts up the hem of his t-shirt, taking a better look at his dick disappearing and reappearing between your lips coated in spit. "My bunny loves to suck her Master's cock, doesn't she? Hmm?" Taehyung questions, voice filled with lust, pupils fully dilated.

You moan around him, giving a positive answer. He smirks, but his face contorts in pleasure when you swallow him, his dark eyebrows furrowing as he eyes you down.

You feel his grip on your hair slightly loosen, his anger against you slowly going away as you suck him like a good slut. Taehyung deserves it, you tell yourself. He deserves to have so much pleasure and you have to procure it to him.

"Fuck, that's enough, baby," he announces and pulls your head away, his wet cock slapping against his t-shirt. You lick your lips clean, watching him hungrily, waiting for his instructions. "See, it's not that hard to be a good pet, right?" He strokes your cheek delicately, a way to show you you did so well.

"Yes," you say quietly, nodding your head.

He removes his t-shirt in a swift motion, revealing his tanned skin to you. It only takes you a second before you think to yourself how beautiful Taehyung is, and how you love simply everything about him.

You have the urge to wrap your arms around his leg and you do it without thinking twice about it, looking up at him with an exaggerated pout on your lips. You snuggle your face against his leg and he softly pats your hair.

"I'm sorry, Master. Please, forgive me," you plead him with your sweetest voice, and you're relieved to see a smile forming on his face.

"I will, baby. How could I not when you dressed up yourself for me?" He coos at you and you happily nuzzle up to him. "You're my cute little bunny, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," you hastily respond, almost clawing at his joggers, hugging his leg like your life depends on it.

He chuckles, caressing your hair delicately. "Would you present yourself on the bed for me, bunny?" He asks, but you know that you can't dare to refuse.

So you nod, crawling to the bed and climbing it to sit prettily in the middle of it. Taehyung watches you closely, satisfied with how obedient and submissive you are to him. You kneel, placing your hands on your thighs.

"Good girl." He positions himself beside the edge of the bed. "Come here," he softly commands and you do what he told you to. "Now turn around." You turn around, your back facing him. "Do you think you deserve to have my cock inside your tiny pussy?" He whispers against your ear and a shiver runs down your spine.

"Yes, please, Taehyungie... I waited all day, I was only thinking about you," you whine, pouting even more. "And your big cock." When you say that, he spanks one of your asscheeks, which surprises you. "Ouch!"

"Don't say such things, it's not pretty in your mouth," he reprimands you, and you respond with a quiet 'sorry' in return.

Your boyfriend grips your hips and presses your ass against his wet cock, hearing him letting out a low moan. You lay your two hands flat on the mattress in front of you, positioning yourself on all fours. Taehyung slaps your butt, but this time not hard, even though it still pains you since he bruised your skin earlier.

He hooks a finger under the string of your pink thong, putting the material to the side, exposing your pussy to him. Your hole is glistening in your wetness, clitoris pulsating and only asking for a little bit of friction.

He grips his cock and swipes his swollen tip between your pussy lips, spreading your juices over the entirety of his length by the same occasion. You move your ass from side to side to incite Taehyung to finally penetrate you.

"Please, Master..." You moan out when he inserts the tip, but only the tip. You wait for him to go in deeper, twisting the bedsheets between your fists, though he doesn't move.

He puts his head in and out, enjoying how your pussy quivers, literally begging him to fuck you. "Be patient, bunny," he warns you and you know you shouldn't complain anymore, but God, why is he teasing you so much?

"But why? Just put it in!" You cry, crocodile tears falling on your cheeks. You're very frustrated, you weren't lying when you were saying you've waited for him all day. "I can't fucking wait anymore!"

Suddenly, he slides all the way in, balls deep into you. "Little bitch," he hisses and shoves your face against the mattress, sticking his chest to your back. "Watch your stupid tongue," he forces you to look at him and goosebumps run all over your skin when your gaze meets his. "Or I'll have to wash your fucking mouth out with soap."

He stays buried into you, not moving a bit, only boring his eyes into your skull. You nod your head with difficulty, pearls dripping down your burning cheeks. You gulp when he straightens his back, setting a slow pace at first.

"Hands behind your back," he breathes out, and holds both of your wrists with one hand when you put them behind your back. Ass in the air, he thrusts in and out of your pussy like nothing happened.

He still has a crease between his eyebrows, but it's his concentrated expression, not really the face he makes when he's pissed off.

He casually fucks you, your flesh jiggling as his hips snaps against it roughly. The sound of skin against skin resonates in the room, making the whole scene even filthier than before. Taehyung grunts behind you, and his dick reaches so deep in your cunt it has you rolling your eyes back into your skull.

You moan as he lets out animalistic noises out of his mouth, taking control of you and never letting you free. Why would he anyway when you like it so much?

"What about I knock you up, bunny, mmh?" He asks, and the idea has your stomach twisting, pussy clenching so hard Taehyung feels it clearly. "Will you finally learn how to behave, then?"

"Aah, Taehyung..." You whine, breathing heavily, mind dizzy, but still catching what he's saying. "Yes, I'll behave, I promise," you moan into the blanket when he precisely hits your sensitive spot.

He doesn't stop the movements of his hips, keeping the rhythm regular and distinct. "Yeah? Having your belly swollen with my baby will make you behave, you think?" He's starting to lose his breath, but his energy is still there, fucking his cock into your cunt until tomorrow if he wants to.

"I'm sorry!" It's the only thing you can say, crying pathetically, closing your walls repeatedly around his cock. You're close, you're so close, if only he'd go faster you'd cum in seconds.

"You're mine, if I want to impregnate you, I will," he states, gritting his teeth. He fastens the cadence of his hips, feeling himself getting close to his orgasm. "I'll stuff your little pussy full of my cum, you'll see, baby," he promises and you hope he's telling the truth.

He then pounds you into the mattress and you cry loudly, him groaning as he goes faster and harder. Your headband isn't sitting on your head anymore, slipping down further each time Taehyung bottoms out into you with force.

"Oh, God-!" You scream into the bedsheets, muffling your voice. Your legs tremble and you feel it, it burns, it twists, it tingles, it explodes and you cum all over Taehyung's hard cock.

Your walls squeeze him and his balls tighten as well. "Fuck, baby, fuuck," he curses breathlessly, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes up.

A growl leaves his throat and his hips steady against your ass. His dick twitches and he releases himself in your pussy in long ropes, painting your insides white. You feel his hot cum filling your cunt, some dripping down your inner thighs.

He slips out of you and watches your hole quivering, pussy filled to the brim with his seeds. He slaps your ass, appreciating what just happened.

You slump down on the bed, your legs failing you. You lazily look behind you, frowning when you see Taehyung tightly holding his cock in his fist. "Are you still hard?" You wonder, even though it wouldn't surprise you at all.

He smiles cheekily and passes a hand through his brown hair, pushing his bangs out of his face. "As always."

Do not ask for a part 2.

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts drabble #taehyung drabble #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung smut #taehyung fanfic #taehyung imagines #taehyung x reader

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year

Text

Yoongi:

Lock Me Up | Intro/Part 1

In which his job is pretty clear on paper; find the witness, bring her in, write down what she saw and then let the witness protection program handle the rest. The only problem: You've got other plans.

Tags/Warnings: Detective Agust D my friends, Criminal Kitty!Reader, hybrid Yoongi, mentions of murder, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, mentions of past abuse, strangers to enemies to I don't even know, sexual tension

Length: Long, 4k words

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"So, just her then?" He asks, reading the files about his most recent case. "Double homicide, and she got away?" He wonders, as the young officer shrugs at the table.

"According to another witness, she saw her run out of the house we found the victims in, and she apparently got chased down the street- but a butcher downtown told a patrolling officer that she was fine the day after." He explains, making Yoongi sigh.

"Well, finding a cat in D-Town." The man takes the files for himself, grabbing his coat. "How hard can it be?"

Turns out, it's not that hard at all, considering the high percentage of hybrid population in D-Town.

He's walking into the small restaurant, most of the people eating and working being hybrids, immediately looking at him with suspicion as all conversation quiets down. He's used to it by now, most hybrids aware of what he is, his reputation amongst each and every one of them one of a traitor. "I'm searching for a female hybrid. Feline." Yoongi asks one of the servers behind the counter, cooks turning around to watch the detective. "Has a ID number tattooed into her left ear. 0713." He offers an image depicting you caught by the security camera of a small grocery shop nearby.

But much to his expectation, everyone shrugs, shakes their heads, won't tell him anything. It's a typical pack-mentality amongst hybrids- no matter what, they stick together against the human dominated police force.

"Alright, let's ask for your papers then. Mind me having a look at all the legal documents for your little establishment?" He melodically threatens, and it's clear that it makes the young server and her husband close by nervous, her eyes immediately looking at two young twin hybrids watching a cartoon on an old CRT-TV. "She's.. upstairs. She didn't do anything, she's a good girl-!" The woman begs, yells after the detective as he immediately makes his way up the stairs, only her husband holding her back.

The moment Yoongi opens the door to what he assumes might be a bedroom though, you're clearly there-

Jumping straight out of a window.

"Fuck.!" He calls out, running back downstairs to run after you, whole restaurant laughing and cheering for you as you dash away from the detective, heels clicking on the pavement as you run away. He has to admit that he's a little impressed by your ability to jump over obstacles and run so fast with those mary janes, though it's clear after a while that he's got the better stamina of the both of you. He's catching up to you.

But you're clearly already very knowledgeable in police chases, because you suddenly jump up against a wall of a small building, managing to somehow heave your entire body up the ledge to get onto the roof.

"So what now, huh?!" He calls out to you, breathing heavily just like you are. "One call and I've got the fucking thing surrounded. Just get down, I'm here- fuck.." He breathes for a second, before catching his composure again. "-I'm not here to arrest you."

"Hmm.. nah, I'm good." You simply answer, sitting close to the edge of the roof now.

"That wasn't a question." He calls out back up to you, one brow raised in annoyance. "Get down."

"No." You simply answer stubbornly, your tail swaying from left to right behind you, since you've moved to lay on your stomach instead, arms on the edge of the rooftop, chin resting on top of them.

"Alright. Hybrid 0713, you're under temporary arrest for suspicion of involvement in a double homicide case." He orders out to you. "Now get down here-"

"Does that ever work on anybody?" You ask after a moment of silence with an almost bored tone to your voice, face clearly showing genuine interest in the answer though.

He licks his lips, hands now in his pockets. "Not really if I'm honest." He shrugs honestly, making you giggle. "Come on now, I seriously only need you for questioning, I don't care about any other shit you've done."

"How about you buy me dinner first?" You ask, rolling over onto your back, now looking at him upside down, and he's unsure if you're aware of your cleavage ready to spill out of your dress, or if you're trying to put him under your spell.

With eyes as enchanting like yours, he could see it work if the setting was different. Wait- what the hell was he thinking?

"Are you serious?" He growls. "You're not in any place to make demands." He argues, and you shrug at that, before getting up to leave, moving out of sight. "Hey-!" He calls out, walking around the small shed you've climbed up on, unable to spot you. "I'm not getting paid enough for this shit.." He mumbles as he moves a trashcan closer to the side of the building, slowly climbing up onto the roof- to find nothing.

"I'll give it an eight out of ten, but only cause you've got a nice ass, Mister Detective-" You giggle behind him down on the floor, before you laugh. "See you later, Imposter!" You laugh as you run off-

leaving him sighing on the rooftop, questioning his life choices.

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Every day you're out there on your own, is a day where you run the chance of getting yourself killed. And while he's got no emotional connection to you at all, you're still an important witness to his case- so he's got to make sure he can avoid you biting the dust anytime soon.

He spots you near an old fountain that's now worked for years, but still holds water, back turned towards him. From the movement of your ears and the way your tail snaps upwards once, you've clearly notice him already though. "Don't worry-" You chuckle, moving around as he walks closer. "-Won't run off this time." You say, as he's finally close enough to see what you're doing.

The side of one of your legs is severely scratched up, from your ankle straight up to almost your thigh. You're using the water to wash off any dirt, shoes and socks neatly placed next to you. "What happened?" He asks, and you shrug, calmly cleaning yourself as he sits down next to you with a respectful distance.

"Tripped. Fell." You shrug, and it's clear to him that you're not telling him the whole story. Even so, he doesn't need to know it- the only thing he needs to know, is what you've seen the night of the murder.

"We'll get that looked at at the police station." He offers, standing up, and you grin impishly, leaning your head back to look at him above you. "What?"

"You gonna carry me, Mister Detective?" You ask, tail swishing from left to right in your amusement.

"First of all, stop calling me that, second of all, why would I do that?" He asks, putting his hands in his pockets.

"I'm hurt!" You whine, turning around with your now wet legs, holding the scratched up one out towards him. "I can't walk." You say with big sparkling eyes, and he squints his own as an answer to them it feels like.

"It's just scratched, now dry off and put your shoes on." He demands, making you pout and cross your arms.

"No." You answer, and he has to take a deep breath to contain himself.

He's however, internally, a little confused at himself. Why does this whole thing amuse him so much? He's not so much angry or frustrated, but there's something entirely different brewing inside him. "Hm, that angry look doesn't work quite right with human eyes like that." You say, catching him off guard. "You'd have a way better chance without those fake lenses." You offer, and he doesn't react to it at all.

"Get up." He simply says, and you do so, limping on one foot. "Come on, drop the act now. I don't have all day for your games."

"We could already be on our way if you decided to be a gentleman, Mister Detective." You snap back, picking up your shoes and socks.

"I told you to stop calling me that." He bites at you, and you have the audacity to laugh.

"And I told you to carry me, but I guess we both won't get what we want today." You joke, before you're suddenly lifted up over his shoulder, one arm over the back of your knees to simultaneously keep your dress from lifting up by accident. "What are you doing!?" You stammer out now, and he can't help the smirk growing on his lips as he walks towards the police station.

"Being a gentleman, just like you wanted."

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"She definitely needs some sort of protection until we've found and arrested everyone involved." Another officer named Namjoon says. "She's already been targeted judging from her injuries. She's been lucky until now, but luck is a gamble. Until they've been prosecuted, we'll have to keep her under protective surveillance." Namjoon orders, before he looks at Yoongi.

"Absolutely fucking not." He immediately says, but it stays quiet.

There's no arguing with orders given, so he does ends up walking into the interrogation room, where he unlocks your handcuffs. "Oh, Mister Detective!" You perk up as you catch his scent, tail swatting into his face almost as he leans away from it. "Finally! I'm so hungry, I swear.." You whine, eagerly freeing your hands out of the cuffs before you get up, jumping on one leg as the other ankle had been put inside a brace since you've sprained it. "Can you carry me back to the restaurant downtown?" You wonder hopeful.

"You're not gonna go anywhere for a while." He tells you, moving your hair away from your neck. It's weird that the way his hands touch you makes you shiver a little- nervousness bubbling up inside you as he places the leather collar around your neck, something clicking in place in the back. "I'm legally required to inform you that you've been electronically tagged until you're no longer required to be. You'll be staying under both GPS surveillance and house arrest until the case has been officially closed or dropped, and the tag can be used at any given time to locate you or send out police enforcement to retrieve you in case it's deemed necessary. Did you understand everything I just said?" He asks, and you sigh, kicking out your feet stubbornly.

"…yeah.." You mumble with an attitude, pulling on the collar. "Can you loosen it a bit though? You're kind of choking me and I'm not really into that." You say, and he clicks his tongue.

"That's as much as I can do." He tells you after loosening it a little. "You'll get used to it."

"I guess." You snap with your eyes rolling, standing up. "So.. I'm gonna be locked up?" You ask, looking at him.

"You're just under house arrest, like I said." He shrugs. "Close monitoring is what they call it. I'll basically be forced to be your babysitter until the case is finished, but they'll let you stay at your own home unless decided otherwise." He explains, and you suddenly seem a lot more relieved about that.

"Alright I guess." You say, getting up to grab your shoes, still barefoot., before you lift up your arms towards him.

"What now." He asks with an emotionless face, hands in his pockets.

"I still can't walk." You say.

"You can hop around on that thing." He answers, turning around, before he opens the door- though you've sat back down on your chair, arms crossed.

"I don't wanna hop around." You simply say, looking at him challengingly. He pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek- and you just know, if he did have cat ears, they'd be full force airplane-mode right now to visualize his growing frustration with you.

And you love it- because he's so stuck up in being professional that there's no way he'd ever act on whatever the hell he's thinking inside his head. He's probably used to getting his way, a macho and alpha-male who's deep down so insecure about being seen as a proper male that he-

Suddenly your world is upside-down again as he carries you over his shoulder yet again, and you kick your legs out in denial. "Hey no, that's not fair-!" You whine, tail swatting into his face before he grabs a hold of it in the palm of the hand belonging to the arm holding your legs. "-Let me down you suit-wearing di-"

"Better watch your mouth, sugar, or I'll have to charge you with disorderly conduct." He tells you, and you huff in frustration to yourself as you shut up at that, hanging limply off his shoulder as he walks out of the police station with you like this.

"You think Detective Min is going to be able to handle this on his own?" A young police officer wonders to the leading detective Kim, who just chuckles in his office as he watches the scene unfold.

"Oh, I'm not worried about him whatsoever." He simply says, grinning amused.

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It's in the middle of the night, when the small monitor on his wrist begins to buzz, waking him him from his sleep. He's squinting his eyes painfully against the bright light of the small screen, before he realizes what he's reading.

[TAG ALERT: SUSPICIOUS MOVEMENT DETECTED]

He's instantly on his feet, rushing to put on clothes and shoes before he rushes out his door and onto the streets, where he checks the monitor to know where he needs to go. The tag alert itself isn't something he's surprised about- he's expected you to start wandering around even with your little issue- but you're moving way faster than you should be capable of, indicating that there might be something terribly wrong.

In front of the restaurant you've been living at, the mother with her twin children is already standing outside, pointing down the street with one of her toddlers in her arms, making Yoongi immediately run to where she'd directed him to. There's drag marks on the ground, alarming him further as he starts to smell your fear and panic- fueling his instincts to get to you before anything could happen.

"Let go you crack-smoking rodent-!" He can hear you yell, loud commotion coming from down the street behind a closed grocery store- and it's at least a sign to him that you're still very much alive and kicking.

"Fucking bitch just bit me-!" Someone yells out, as Yoongi rounds the corner, gun drawn.

"D-Town police, hands up where I can fucking see them!" He yells, causing everyone to move and dash off, no shot of his landing to keep them there.

"Nice aim there, Mister Detective." You huff on the ground, rubbing the back of your head. "Thought you guys are trained with those things.." You mumble to yourself, as he walks closer to inspect any damage done to you.

"I'll ignore that comment for now." He says as he checks up on you. "What happened?"

"Broke in, took me from my nest, dragged me here like a bag of rice." You explain, as he lifts your head by your chin, thumb wiping your bottom lip where some blood can be seen. You know he's only trying to figure out if you're hurt or if it's not your blood, but it still affects you considering you're not used to be touched like that.

But another thing you notice, is his eyes- his entire appearance, in fact, as you reach out to move your hand through his hair.

"Hey, stop that.!" He barks out, but you've already done what you wanted to do.

"Huh." You simply hum. "Been wondering if you had anything hidden on your head."

"There's nothing to hide there." He growls almost, standing up instantly before he lifts you up by the back of your shirt. "Now come on. We'll get some of your shit from your place, and then you'll stay with me. I'm not taking anymore chances with you." He orders, and surprisingly, you don't question it, and don't even ask to be carried around, simply hopping alongside him for a while as you make your way down the street.

It's quiet, most people asleep at this point in this part of town, when he sighs, turning towards you to pick you up.

"Come here." He mumbles quietly, tapping his shoulders as he turns around and leans down for you to get onto his back. You silently accept the offer, letting him piggyback you to your home where you stay, and pack a small bag of things you deem necessary for your stay with the detective. He watches quietly from the sidelines as you say goodbye to the young cat hybrids, when he's spoken to from the sides.

"She's a good girl." The husband of the mother tells him. "Just shaped by the circumstances, you know? You bite others or get bitten, as simple as that." He explains.

"I'm not arresting her." Yoongi explains, and the man shakes his head.

"No, no, I know you don't." He exclaims. "But I know you guys always think of us as some sort of criminal bunch that don't follow the rules just to spite you, and we're not." He simply explains. "Just- ah, what does it matter to you I guess.." The man shakes his head, before he walks inside, leading his wife and kids into the safety of the restaurant-

while you walk out of it, ready to be carried away.

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Back at his place, you still haven't really said anything- making him suspicious, as he sits on the edge of his bed, having put up a mattress for you to sleep on close to him in case anything happened at night. "Who were those guys?" He asks, and you shrug, pulling out a rather worn down blanket from your plastic bag.

"Don't know." You answer. "Probably with Takehiko, if I had to make a guess." You shrug, before you pull out one small flower shaped pillow to sleep on- the man mentioned, Takehiko, being the prime suspect of the double homicide. He's well known for selling tampered drugs on the streets of D-Town, as well as blackmailing hybrids by threatening to report them to authorities to be taken into shelters.

Yoongi wants to question if you're alright- if everything's okay with you, but he doesn't. It doesn't concern him, it's none of his business, and the less he gets himself involved with you-

the better it will be for the both of you in the end.

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"Mister Detective!" You call out, and he turns around from his desk to find you rolling around on his carpet on the floor. "I'm bored." You whine, and he sighs, turning back around. "Mister De-"

"I swear to god if you call me that one more time, I'm gonna fucking gag you.!" He growls, turning back around again.

"Kinky." You wiggle your ears, and he takes a deep breath before he crosses his arms. "I'm still bored though."

"Go read something then, I'm here to protect you, not entertain you." He mumbles, before it grows quiet. It makes him turn around to notice you staring into nothingness, before you move to curl up on your mattress instead. It makes him wonder if you're always this stubborn if you don't get your way- or if there's something else going on you're just not telling him.

Either way, he doesn't care, and shouldn't, so he continues working on things he usually doesn't have time for during his workdays, while he assumes you sleep.

"Do you have a tail?" You ask out of a sudden, making him choke on his sip of water as he almost spits it out, cough interrupting him for a good moment.

"What the fuck!" He snarls out, setting down his glass as he wipes his mouth.

"So is that a no?" You wonder, and he shakes his head.

"No!" He says, grabbing tissues to wipe his desk down.

"No- no tail or no- yes tail-" You continue, but he cuts you off.

"No as in, none of your fucking business.!" He growls, clearly agitated at that question. "If your plan is to annoy the fuck out of me so someone else will supervise you, guess what, it's working great."

"Wasn't my intention, actually." You shrug, sitting up now. "Was just curious. You know- since you're clearly a cat too, but also not really. Confused me, that's all." You explain.

"Yeah well, you're not the first." He mumbles to himself, sitting back down at his desk.

"Does it confuse you too?" You ask, and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Alright, what the fuck does it take for you to shut up?" He asks, looking at you, and you just smile.

"An answer would be cool." You simply say. "Look, I knew a cat hybrid a few years back and he had a super short tail, but he was a really nice guy! Smoked a lot of weed, but still." You explain, and he leans back in his seat, arms crossed defensively. "So?" You ask.

"I don't have one." He tells you.

"Liar." You squint your eyes, ears tilted towards him. "It's short, isn't it?" You ask almost teasingly, and he looks away at that, giving you the answer needed. "Hey, that's totally alright though, no shame in it! Or.." You tilt your head. "Is that why you hate hybrids so much?"

"I don't hate hybrids." He scoffs, shaking his head at you.

"Yeah right, as if it's pure chance that you're known for putting hybrids into shelters left and right." You huff, crossing your arms as well now.

"It's because you belong there if you do not have a legal guardian or permit for independent living." He argues. "I'm only trying to help you out. A shelter provides you food, a place to sleep, education-" He tries to explain, but you're visibly becoming defensive now.

"Oh yeah and don't forget how they hit you with whatever they've got on hand just because you knock over a glass full of juice at the dinner table!" You hiss, annoyed that he's talking about shelters like they're as holy as a church. "Or how they lock you in the shower with ice cold water after you've pissed yourself out of fear as a kitten because everyone just keeps shouting at you-!" You angrily say, and his features remain without any emotion as he realizes you're not just making up examples you might've heard.

Considering the details and the way you tremble saying those things, it's clear to him that you're talking about your experience in a shelter.

"But what is it to you." You suddenly shrug. "You go continue cosplaying as a human I guess." You mumble, turning around to hide under your blanket again, silence engulfing the room for a moment or two, before he gets up and moves around. You don't know what he's doing, and you honestly don't want to know. You also don't know what you thought blurting your childhood trauma out like that would bring you as a result- but that's how you are, and have always been. Impulsive, wild, a little hyperactive and too honest most of the time.

Suddenly, he's close to you, and you hiss in pure pettiness at him, before you stop in your tracks, watching him.

His face is as stoic as ever, sleeves of his shirt rolled up as he wraps a blanket around you, tucking another one into places, and you're confused. "I- what're you doing?" You ask, and he scoffs to himself.

"You're the hybrid, I honestly got no clue how to do this shit." He mumbles, sighing in defeat as he sits back with crossed legs, letting his hands fall into his lap in defeat.

"But you're a hybrid too." You ask confused, though he shakes his head.

"I'm a freak, there's no need to try and sugarcoat it." He shrugs. "Neither here nor there. I don't know what it's like to be put through the shit you might've been, since I never lived life from your perspective-" He explains, "-and I don't know what it's like to be a human either, since you can only hide so much." The detective explains, watching how you correct his admittedly poor attempt at nesting for you.

It's clear to you that he's trying to apologize for his assumptions without actually having to apologize- the detective is a lot easier to read than he might think he is.

"Yeah, I mean you kind of suck at being both, I won't lie." You say, making him look at you with harmless offense. "What? Your nesting sucks ass, and those contact lenses you constantly wear creep me out." You jab at him. "But!" You bark out, leaning closer to him, catching him off guard a little. "Seeing as we're kind of stuck together, I can give you a rundown on being a hybrid!"

"And why exactly would I want that?" He asks you monotonously, and you roll your eyes.

"Because you clearly got some major identity-issues going on?" You tell him as if it's obvious. "And I also clearly can't magically turn you 100% human out of nowhere."

"I don't have Identity-issues-" He argues, while you look at him with an unconvinced gaze, arms crossed.

"Mid-life-crisis then?" You ask, "You do look pretty old.." You mumble at him.

"I'm not old!" He hisses, and you grin suddenly, ears in airplane-mode while your tail swishes from side to side in happiness. "What?" He asks annoyed again.

"Your teeth." You notice, and he instantly closes his mouth, lips pressed firmly together at having them called out like that. "And you're also not wearing those creepy lenses." You continue to point out, tilting your head to the side. "Handsome, I like it." You comment, and for some reason, that's what forces him to stand up and move away from you, all while you fall onto your back, laughing loudly.

"Shut the fuck up and tell me what you want to eat for dinner instead."

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#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #hybrid imagine #yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagines #yoongi imagines

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leatherfaceish · 1 year

Text

FATAL ATTRACTION HOTLINE

You fall victim to a hotline serial killer on campus, unbeknownst to you that it’s your classmate Mickey attempting to fulfill his desires.

RATING — MATURE & EXPLICIT PAIRING — mickey altieri x gender-neutral! reader GENRE(S) — drabble, ghostface! au, 1997! au, stalker! au, college! au, crime, smut, thriller WORD COUNT — 4k WARNINGS — mature content, heavy (seriously) dark humor, intense situations, manipulation, weapon used: knife, petname used: baby, humor towards suicide as a distraction, dumbification, stalker! mickey, mickey is an ass, reader dies btw SMUT WARNINGS — sexual content, dub-con (consent is given), prey/predator dynamic, biting/marking, dry & clothed handjob, unprotected intercourse, creampie, double orgasm, spit as lube, hair-pulling, dark! mickey is basically feral for you RELEASE DATE — APR 13TH 2023

AUTHOR’S NOTE — i think this is the most fucked up thing I've written to date, and yet it's kind of tame? lmao but the reader's entire thought process being like "i want to see how this ghostface FUCKS." absolutely took me out. and i wrote it. also yes i changed the title because i’m worried this site will have a field day with this one.

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | FEEDBACK

“Calling at such a late hour?” The robotic voice seemed to lean into the microphone, almost cackling at the time you’ve dialed the hotline written on the bathroom stall. “You must be desperate.”

"When was the last time you felt something?" Your finger tapped at the numbers on the wall, the stall seeming to fit you just right in the moment of your weakest. "Like really—feel."

"Jumping head first into the suicidal thoughts tonight, aren't we baby?" Their voice made your heart nearly skip, but the tears along the corner of your eyes were hot enough to keep you grounded.

"I'm serious."

"So am I." It felt like a joke to them, your brow furring and teeth gritting almost seeming to be heard by them over the phone. "Did you even read the message on the wall?"

"The writing?" You questioned, eyes finding the marker written words along the wall again. "It's fading."

"It's been there for a few years now."

A junior, or a senior.

"Do I really need to tell it to you straight? Can't you read it for yourself?" You could hear the smile on their face by now, even if a box that changes their voice was held over their lips.

You wanted to speak every syllable you could make out before they could say anything else, but they were already ahead of you.

"A disclaimer from left to right: A sexual experience that ends in demise. One you'll never forget, and no one else will either!"

You sat quietly, reading along with them until you realized just what you had called into. From first glance, the number seemed to be from someone who had once been in your position. Sitting in the abandoned dorm's bathroom stall crying your eyes out, up to your neck in the negatives of life and school, and so miserable that you just wanted one person to speak to that understands.

"I didn't read that part." You spoke just above a whisper.

"Let me guess: You thought this was just a suicide hotline? Someone to listen to your problems and give you advice or the answers you're looking for, maybe even some hope?" They couldn't hide the laughter in their voice, almost cherishing your innocence and stupidity. "Someone who would make you leave the call feeling better about things?"

"Is that not what you do?"

You could hear them losing their patience, the huff before they spoke seeming to make your head rush. "Read the fine print again."

Sexual. This hotline was for sex. But why was suicide mentioned?

"Are you a guy?" The question to you seemed so small and quick, but they weren't playing short.

"Is that your preference? Men?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"The sexual part, baby." Their voice didn't grow faint for a second, almost as if they held the phone even closer to the voice box to make things more apparent. "It's the 90's, you could be into anyone these days."

"So, you are a man." A conclusion, and his laughter on the other end.

"I can only provide dick. Such a shame, isn't it?" You almost couldn't help the cackle that left you, his interest peaking.

"Why were you crying?" Finally, he seemed sincere.

"Bad day."

"One of many in this school."

"You're a student?"

But his shortness made itself up in other bits—like now, when he ignores your dig into his personal life.

"Do you understand who you've called?" He seemed to teeter on his sanity, voice raising a volume higher than before to make his point. "What I am going to need from you now?"

"Don't hotlines have consensual guidelines?"

"I'm no normal hotline." His teeth sounded gritted, his patience leaving him fully. "You dialed the number." His voice returned soft, his sing-songy tone almost mocking. "You even pressed the dial button. And here you are, clueless."

"C-Clueless? How does this even work? You feed some sick person a bunch of nonsense until they do what you ask?"

"Have I asked you to do anything for me?"

You almost had to rethink the entire conversation, but he had never truly pried so much. Even now, minutes into the conversation, you could hang up and move on. Maybe even call a real hotline.

"Let me guess, you're considering hanging up?

"What if I do?"

"That would only piss me off, baby. Think harder. How can I be so sure of this working?"

Your mind was blank, only listening to his robotic voice in your ears like a guide.

"I don't understand."

"Sex for a faked suicide." He cackled, speaking slowly. "That's who you called. You set yourself up, all because you want to die so badly. Wouldn't you prefer to go out shaking and orgasming than cold and lifeless?"

"How do you know what I want?"

"Sitting in that lonesome bathroom crying all night isn't going to solve any of your problems. But talking to me, letting me take control of your life and your fate could." He spoke rapidly, like gun-fire—as if he had been waiting a long time to say these things to someone who was dumb enough to call. "Stall three from the door, right?"

The conversation turned predatory, his voice growing darker and shorter as he spoke on.

"Look at that—" He said the three words just above a whisper, your shaking body listening like the world was in slow motion. "I can even see your shoes beneath the door."

It was a dream, you felt like you weren't conscious as you noticed the swaying black dress cut roughly at the end. One that of the grim reaper, or better known to your town as the outfit of the Ghostface killer.

"P-Please…"

"Please what?" You could hear his grin, could feel his energy through the door and through the mask he wore like it was a fire. "Tell me what you want, baby."

"I-I can't…"

"Want me to make it go away?" His voice returned to the annoyed tone it sometimes held, a tilt of the Ghostface mask letting you see the white face through the crack of the door towards side of the lock.

"How?" Your voice was a whisper, but in such an empty space, the bathroom seemed to echo the word off every wall.

"Tell me you want me." His voice was stern. "Tell me you want me to do it."

"I-I want you to—" Your voice shook. "d-do what?"

"To fuck you. And then to let you go."

Every racing thought has brought you here. Every mention of wanting to end your life, negative thoughts in your mind like they lived there—it all carried you to this one, unhinged solution.

"And if I say no?"

It was the loudest sound in so long, the clash of the pager against the crack of the door where you could once see his mask peeking through. Even with a squint of your eyes, you knew the phone number across the screen was your cell number.

"I know who you are." Another smile behind his mask, a hefty breath through the voice box, and the killer seemed to be in heaven. "I'll kill you either way. So, why not agree to the fun part?"

The tears falling down your face had grown hotter as you shook in fear, splashing onto the tiled floor of the old bathroom in tandem with a dripping faucet. As everything grew silent, and your mind fell even quieter—you spoke.

"I want you to do it."

"Where do you want it done?" That rough tone again, he wanted quick answers.

"I-In my dorm."

"Live alone, huh?"

He pulled the pager back, slipping it into his pocket and pressing his hand against the lock of the door to feel the coin-slot ridge. All it needed was a turn, and then you were all his.

"How do you like to be fucked?" This was clearly his favorite question, a light tone of excitement in his voice as the dark eyes of the mask peered through the crack of the door once more.

"D-Deep. It's better that way." You spoke in cut words, still shaking as you heard his breathing stutter from what you said. "I like to feel e-everything."

"Everything?" He repeated, only the question was rhetoric. "I'll make you feel everything."

And there it was again, that rise in his voice that told you he was up to something. With so little words being spoken, you could only make out his movements—and without skipping a beat, you knew just what he was doing.

A clean knife prodded into the line of the lock outside of the door. A safety feature added to help those outside get in when necessary, even if it was against the safety of the one inside. You could hear the sharp object click in, turning until you saw the lock slip from inside the wall back into the door. And just as the thin door squealed open, you found yourself face to face with death.

"This—" The robotic voice was somehow louder with the door open, a short step into the single stall making you shake more from his presence. "isn't your dorm room, is it?"

Your head shook rapidly, going along with what he said in order to not cause any harm to yourself. You wanted to scream, every fiber of your being truly wanted to—but you knew the knife in his hand would slice your throat with ease if you did.

With every sexual experience comes the part where your stomach is twisting in anticipation, such as now.

"Then let's go there, shall we?" He spoke kindly, a façade making your body ache with the idea that he's not all that bad, as he offered you his gloved hand.

The fabric of his glove was thick, enough to keep blood or any liquids from soaking in and staining. Your hand cupped his palm, his fingers taking hold of yours with a tight grip. Just as it crossed your mind again, that he's not so bad, your neck was met with the sharp metal blade.

"This is how this goes. We walk out, hand-in-hand—all romantic like—and we make a b-line for your dorm room. Any attempt to run or get help, and you die on the spot."

"O-Okay…" The knife trailed the skin of your throat, begging to press into your flesh and retrieve some reaction from you that's pure pain. But the man seemed to linger his touch lower, his free hand falling upon your waist like it had been there before.

He was stern, uncaring of your tears being wiped away by your own touch, and most certainly rushed as he pulled you forward at a fast pace. "Good."

You had almost forgotten the journey you normally made out into the abandoned dorm. Lined off with caution tape, and only one door that allowed you in and out without being seen—the eeriness of the building being so quiet and stuck in time was just as scary as the killer walking you along its halls.

"Take it easy." The voice box over his mouth seemed to click with his words, sounding faulty as he pressed you forward and out the door of the old building. "This won't take long."

There were thumps and bumps all across the ground as you walked by housing holding sorority parties. The man's grip tightened every time you walked by someone. Anyone getting particularly close made you cling to him in a loving way. Anything to make you appear normal. Anything to keep you alive right now.

"Walk slower." The louder music was coming from your own dorm, a party that had started long before you made a move to the abandoned dorm still going strong. "Costume party. What idiots."

He was right, a sea of costumes immediately melting the two of you into the party like you had been there the whole time. From pulls on your waist, to jolts of your body forward to rush you into corners, you had finally gotten through the most packed floors and into your dorm room.

The cool air made your skin rush with goosebumps, a moment in time seeming to stop everything as you spun to face the masked man. He was skilled, clicking your door shut and locking it—all with the knife he once held to your throat returning to his hand.

You could hear his voice box click, hear the thumping of your own heart in your ears almost louder than his voice.

"This is where you want to die?" He asked, pointing the shiny knife at your small bed in the middle of the room. "Right here? On your own blankets?"

You bit at your tongue, eyes growing glossy as he took a step towards you every time he spoke. It wasn't until he was right in front of you, the faintest hint of his cologne moving into your nose, that you could even comprehend what was happening.

Tears seemed to pour slower, but your body needed more air. You seemed to stifle, sniffling in deep breaths and trying to swallow it all down into your lungs as fast as you could.

One sniff, and you felt nothing. Another, and you smelled something familiar. One more deep breath, and that hard-to-miss smell of someone you know finally broke through.

The white mask was tight on his head, held in place as he tilted his head slightly in curiosity. Your sniffling had stopped, glossy eyes matching with what would be his glowing brown irises within the eyes of the mask.

"M-Mickey?"

He didn't move. He didn't have to. It was simply meant to be—that you found out.

"Now you really can't live after this, baby."

He spoke with such confidence, his knifeless hand raising the Ghostface mask up and off his head until his chiseled face was in your view. His wide teeth, fang-like canine in your sight, and it was truly your fellow student Mickey Altieri.

You took in his clean appearance, the sweat dripping down his temples and jawline from the thick mask he had worn for nearly an hour now. His outfit was just the same as the costume shown on the news for the last few years—banned, then unbanned, and now favored by many.

"I finally got you right where I want you." The man had a squeak to his voice when he was excited, a Cheshire grin on his face. It all made sense now, how you knew his emotions even without being able to see him before.

You wanted to breathe, suck in his scent and reassure yourself that he would never do something like this. The lighthearted film major with an affliction for gore and horror—you should have known he was a red flag deep down.

But his lips attached to your own, moved to taste you with his tongue and suck the oxygen from your lungs like he could steal your soul that way. His lips tasted metallic from the voice box that had been pressed against his mouth most of the night. He swayed you side to side until his arms were wrapped securely around your waist and there was no way you could leave him.

And when the breath was finally returned to you, you could truly see the craziness in his bright irises and blown pupils.

"Tell me you want me." His lips pecked at yours between his sentences. "Tell me you want me to fuck you. Just like before!"

His pink tongue poked out between his lips to press into your skin, lapping at the dried and salty tears along your cheeks all the way down to your collarbones. There, you felt his teeth. Pearly whites leaving a small bruise on your neck as he awaited your magic words.

This was it. There was nothing you could think of past this. And there was no running far enough away from him.

"M-Mickey." He halted at his name being said slowly and softly, his eyes turning warm as they peered up at you from below your chin. His gentle smile, the one that made your heart skip a few times before you knew he was capable of this, it still gave you butterflies. "I want you to be the one."

"Oh—" His body language was confused, but his eyes were wild. Looking between your gaze and the mark he left on you, you could see him hesitate from reaching to grab his knife and cut you right there. "Oh—fuck, I thought I'd never here you say those words."

His hands were shaking, leaving the thin fabric of his costume where he rubbed his sides to grab hold of you again. His fingers were tight against your clothing, pulling at whatever he could get off of you right then and there.

It was his sense of giddiness that almost made you forget he planned to kill you afterwards. How his tongue stuck between his aligned teeth every time he saw more skin. The animalistic sounds he made as he licked and kissed at you until his weight pressed you into the mattress.

"You taste just how I imagined." The man cooed, losing all of the cool and collective he once had with his voice box.

His hand slipped down, the knife covered by his costume now poking into your side as he felt at the wetness growing between your legs. His coated fingertip raised towards his mouth, your juices making his eyes clenched shut in euphoria as he moaned.

You didn't want to admit that his fingers dipping back down against you felt good, or that how he appeared now—so out of his mind from your taste and your unclothed body beneath him alone—made your head spin. The man had been tailing you all along, stalking you until he knew what headspace you were in, that you would soon call his hotline and make yourself his victim.

It was meant to be creepy, but as his hand took your wrist and pressed your cupped hand against his hard length—you couldn't regain the sense to feel scared.

"Look at what you do to me." His head hung, eyes staring at you darkly as he used his fingers to press your hand into him until he was grinding against your touch. You could feel the stain of precum spurting through the fabric of both his underwear and the costume, sucking in a deep breath when you felt him twitch when you rubbed him on your own accord.

The man was going insane—even if he was already previously.

"I want you." He groaned, his weakened neck laying his head onto your shoulder as you kept your rhythm against his clothed cock. "I want to feel your insides."

"Then why don't you?" He hissed at your words, his hips thrusting into your hold until he was rutting against you. If he didn't slow down now, he wouldn't fuck you like you want him to. "Mickey."

His name made his hips stutter and stop, eyes finding yours again. It was almost like he forgot why he was here, so drunk on you that he just wanted to fill you up. You could see him waver, bite down on his tongue, and then be sent into overdrive.

Mickey moved quickly, pulling at your hips until your body was facing flat against the mattress and your head was buried against your pillow. You could hear his costume being ripped in certain places, feel his body heat closing in on your backside—but what was most appalling was the feeling of his fingers pulling your underwear down your legs until they hung at your ankles.

It was almost rewarding, feeling his tip at your wet entrance. The saliva from his mouth had drooled enough onto his fingers when he was collecting your wetness to add to it all, and every inch of him that slipped into you made a squelching sound.

"Fuuuck—fuck, fuck, fuck!" His words got louder and louder, his cock being held by your walls trying so hard not to fill you with his cum just from one pump in. Mickey was at a loss, your body heating up just right until your warmth made him feel alive.

"This is what I wanted." His motion to pull out was cut off by his tiny rut back into you, just a small feeling of needing to fuck you fast dissipating when he remembered you like it rough. His head fell into your neck when he slammed into you harshly, feeling you clench around him like never before. "This is all I wanted…"

"M-Mickey." You cried with his words, short but sweet to him as he filled you up only to pull out and thrust back in with such vigor that your entire bed was shaking. "Do what you want to me, Mickey."

His hair was a mess, the discarded Ghostface mask being shaken off the side of the bed from his hard thrusts and landing on the floor going unnoticed by the two of you. So lost in each other, everything seemed to slip away.

If only he had you sooner.

The hand at your waist lifted, the weight of his body holding you down into the mattress and giving him enough space to fuck you deep and fast. You could hardly form words, and he couldn't make any other sounds except moans.

It wasn't until his free hand pulled at your hair, enough to raise your head to let you speak, that you remembered the entire premise of this transaction.

"Do you like me now?!" He asked with a boiling anger in his voice but a rumbling orgasm approaching. "All those times you turned me down. And you could have had this."

"I-Is this how you do it?" You spoke through broken cries and gritted teeth. "You wait for some poor girl to call your hotline, whaling into the phone about wanting to die. All so you could talk her into letting you fuck her first before you kill her?"

"The perfect way to die." He groaned, pressing himself deeper into your walls as they clenched around him sporadically in the race towards your orgasm.

You could feel his hot seed start to fill you, his thrusts running messy just as your body shook and went firm. Orgasms taking over both of you at the same time, you wanted nothing more now than to find a way out of this.

"Mickey?" His hand was still in your hair, but your head had fallen back onto the pillow. "I-I just—"

Your skull felt his strength, head lifted back up from the cool pillow with the sharp knife on your throat once more. You could feel drips of blood falling down your neck and staining the pillow.

"Just want to stay alive?" Mickey had returned to his unhinged stature, almost as if it had never left him for a second. "Baby, baby, baby." He cooed, his thumb pressing into the side of your cheek with his fist that held the knife. "I got my end of the deal…"

"Please—"

"You've gotta get yours." The knife was piercing, the blade having been recently sharpened finely until it could cut through almost anything. As you felt more blood leaving your neck, you could hear his soft voice in your ears—almost as if he were God himself speaking to you during your final breath.

"And just so you know—" There it was, one last time, that huge Cheshire grin in your peripheral. "You were my first."

© leatherfaceish — all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission. do not post my content on other sites, especially claiming them as your own! reblogs and feedback are seriously appreciated <3

#mickey altieri #mickey altieri smut #mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri imagine #mickey altieri scenario #ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #timothy olyphant x reader #timothy olyphant ghostfact #timothy olyphant smut #timothy olyphant imagines #timothy olyphant scenarios #scream 2 smut #scream smut

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ghostchems · 10 months

Text

infernal - terzo x f!reader - part one

art by the lovely @stainedlilac

author’s note: been cooking this one up for sometime. about 4k words. 18+! mdni! ao3 link. this will be a looooong one. if you like it, PLEASE tell me omg. tell me in the tags or send me a message please and thanks.

~~~~

Terzo is serving a death sentence.

It isn’t like he had much of a choice.

He remembers the game night clearly. The typical arguments and accusations of cheating had subsided and it was a rare moment of fun and relaxation with his brothers.

The next thing he remembers is waking up on a gurney and gasping for air. They told him his brothers were dead. They told him they had removed his head for a photoshoot and then reattached it again. They gave him a choice: die now or take their money and never speak to them again.

Terzo lives in solitude. The mansion he was put up in is large with enough rooms to fill all of the stories of his time at the clergy, which already feels like a lifetime ago. But it is just him. Only him. He spends his days in the quiet, stewing in his bitterness of how his reign came to an end and how the clergy had pushed him aside. The longer he is alone, the more angry he becomes.

What is he supposed to do now?

They left him with nothing. Nothing besides money, which feels like the ultimate insult.

He lets his own home fall into disrepair. Trinkets and memorabilia from his past life pile up around him until he is forced to shove it all into one room to get it out of his sight. His days are filled with nothingness. He doesn’t know who he is anymore or what he’s meant to do. The purpose he had spent his life preparing for had been ripped from him.

He doesn’t pay his bills on time so on more than one occasion, his power is shut off or he doesn’t have warm water. He eats cereal out of collection plates that bear the name of his old band. He is never completely dressed and doesn’t shower or clean himself for days on end.

What is the point?

One day, there is a knock at the door. An unfamiliar feeling of dread washes over him, anxiety bubbling up in his stomach as he creeps to the window. Terzo sighs deeply once he realizes there is no one at the door. He shuffles outside and stares at a brown envelope on his doorstep. The speed at which he snatches the envelope and slams the door behind him almost makes him dizzy. He manages to steady himself back at the window, his eyes narrowing as he looks to see if anyone is watching.

Terzo tears through the envelope. What he sees sends red hot anger coursing through his veins. It’s a magazine and on the cover of it is his bloodied, severed head. He nearly rips it apart. The sight of his own father standing behind Copia, the little rat that sniveled his way to the top —

He exhales sharply out of his nose as his eyes fall to his severed head and he runs his fingers across the cover. This was all he ever was to his father and to the clergy leadership: a prop. A puppet to push out to the masses and parrot the word they approved of and the second he had any thoughts or ideas of his own, they threw him away.

Terzo tosses the magazine on a nearby console and storms into his study, his fingers brushing through his wild hair. He can’t live like this; he can’t. It’s tearing him apart inside, twisting him into a withering husk of a person. He needs to make a change and he knows it.

He needs a new toy to play with.

He picks his head up, his eyes flickering to the closed double doors to the dining room. His life’s work is piled up and discarded there, filling him with a combined sense of longing and anger.

Terzo needs everything gone.

***

You stare at the ad on your computer screen. It seems too good to be true. It must be too good to be true. You’ve never been a personal assistant before but it clearly states “no experience necessary for applicants”. Your fingers drift over the mousepad to the apply button. It couldn’t hurt to at least try, right? The worst that could happen is you get denied or never hear back but that is par for the course with job hunting anyway. You click apply and fill out your information, submitting the form after uploading your resume.

You are sick of your current job working at a call center. Sure, it pays the bills but you haven’t gotten a raise in the two years that you’ve been there and your expenses have gone up. The fact that you struggle to make ends meet even with a roommate makes you spiral at least once a week. Not to mention that the job itself is soul-sucking, draining you of all positive energy so that once you are done working for the day you typically go right to bed.

You need a change.

You don’t want to get your hopes up but it’s hard not to fantasize about what you could do if you are able to secure the assistant job. The idea of having spending money to buy takeout instead of living off cereal, oatmeal and ramen is getting you excited. Or maybe, as a personal assistant, your boss will feed you each day so you’ll be able to save money on groceries. The bar is so low for improving your day to day life.

The thought brings an important revelation to the forefront of your mind: you didn’t know much about who the person requesting an assistant. You pull up the job posting again and read over the description. The only information it gives is in the title line of the posting (which you completely missed when applying): Personal Assistant to Golden Bachelor.

“Golden bachelor?” You say to no one at all as you google the term. You didn’t think people referred to themselves as “bachelors” anymore in this day and age. Well, it makes sense that a rich, lonely man would need an assistant to help him run his life - he’s probably always had assistants and can’t function without one. You’re not one to usually judge but when it comes to rich people they are fair game.

You close your laptop and roll over on your bed, grabbing your comforter to cocoon yourself in. Exhaustion grips your body and the weight of the comforter starts to soothe you off into an unfortunately restless sleep. Not that you aren’t used to it.

***

Terzo is unimpressed with the applicants so far, despite the fact that it very clearly says “no experience needed” in the post he made. Also, the fact that there are so many applicants and he has to go through each individual application and read about these people and their silly jobs.

Ugh. Boring.

His leg bounces as skims through the applications on his laptop in the dim light of his study, reading glasses perched low on his nose. His study is practically empty besides his antique desk and chair that seemed to have come with the house. There are plenty of built-in bookshelves and cabinets lining the walls but they are all empty and full of dust. The walls are a dark blue that look black in the evening light with hardwood floors that creak with every step.

Terzo gives a sigh and removes his glasses, sitting back in his chair with a huff. This isn’t as easy as he thought it would be. He was expecting the first applicant to be a hit but when that person had nothing particularly interesting in their resume, he was feeling defeated. And then the same would happen with each of the other at least fifty he’s gone through by now. He wished he had an assistant to go through these but… well, then what kind of paradox would we be in, then?

He reaches into the pocket of his plush, purple robe for his pack of cigarettes, opens it and then brings it to his lips. Terzo presses a finger to the tip of the cigarette and it immediately lights, taking a deep, long drag of it. Coming back from the dead had its perks, especially because of whatever dark magic the clergy had used to do it. He still isn’t sure exactly what he is capable of but he figured this little trick out when he nearly almost set fire to the entire house while trying to open the curtains in the sitting room.

Terzo is already halfway through the cigarette, his eyes glazing over as he zones out while facing his computer. A notification pops up accompanied by a little “ding” to indicate a new applicant. He groans and rubs his eyes behind his glasses, taking another deep drag of his cigarette.

“Un altro.” Terzo grumbles to himself. One more and then he’ll have a drink before slipping into unconsciousness, potentially on the couch in the sitting room where he spends at least half his nights. He leans forward in his seat, eyes fixed on your application after pulling it up. His tongue darts and licks his painted lips.

Your resume and application oozes desperation, so much so that he can almost taste it. The message introducing yourself is sweet, to the point and the most promising he’s seen thus far. A low growl rumbles through his chest as he copies your name and pastes it into google. He clicks the first Facebook profile to come up with your name, which may or may not be you. There’s no information on the profile other than a pixel-y profile photo of what resembles a young woman. Terzo stares at the photo for some time as he finishes off his cigarette, placing it into a golden ashtray that is almost completely full of ashes.

“Il mio topolino.” He purrs and opens a new window to reply to you, offering windows of availability for an interview.

***

It’s been days and you’re starting to think the whole thing was a scam from the start. Every time you send him when you’re available and can make it to an interview, that date and time comes and goes, and he sends a follow up asking for another time. You’re on the verge of giving up, of letting go of the fantasy of making a considerable amount of money with the potential for perks.

That is, until there is finally a window of opportunity for the both of you. You almost turn it down at this point from being jerked around so much but the pay is just too good to pass up. You make sure to tell a few friends the address and the time of your interview so that they’ll know exactly where you are in case this is a scam and you are about to be abducted. He even follows up with you the morning of, telling you that he is looking forward to the interview so it seems like it is happening.

It takes you some time to settle on an outfit which ends up being a pair of navy blue slacks, white blouse and a pair of flats, and you put your hair up into a neat ponytail. You look at yourself in the mirror and decide that you look professional enough.

The drive to his house is silent, by design so that you keep your focus on the interview. You’re not familiar with the area he is located in even though it is in your town. There is an old gate at the front of his driveway that is open and probably not functional judging from the state it’s in. The driveway is long and rocky, and the further you travel down it the more uneasy you feel. The house comes into view and you have half a mind to turn the car around.

It’s massive. Most of the windows are dark, complimenting the dark color scheme of the house exterior. It looks haunted. You stare at it through the dashboard window of your car, nervousness creeping up your chest. Your eyes fall to the clock in your car and it reads ten minutes until the scheduled interview time. A shaky breath falls from your lips.

To be early is to be on time.

The walk to the front door feels like an eternity and it’s hard to fight the feeling that the house is somehow watching you. The closer you get, you realize that the siding is a dark hunter green with black shingles which really contributes to the overall spookiness of the Victorian mansion. You reach the front door and take a moment to smooth out your outfit and adjust your backpack on your shoulders. Your lungs fill with air and you lift your hand to knock — but the door swings open before you have a chance to do so.

You are met with a pair of haunting, mismatched eyes.

He doesn’t look the way you imagined. His hair is messy, sticking up in most places with some of it falling into his face. He is wearing a plush purple robe over what looks like a dress shirt and he is in a pair of black slippers. You can’t tell if he is wearing any kind of pants. What stands out the most is his painted face, sharp black paint cutting into his cheek bones and around his eyes. Despite the rest of his appearance, the paint is crisp. His eyes look weary as they look you up and down, just as you had done to him.

“You are here for the assistant job.”

A statement, not a question and a very thick italian accent.

You blink at him a few times and then hold out your hand. “Yes, sir. I have my resume here for you to review and—“

“You’re hired.” His expression is still tired and he turns away from you. “Begin cataloging and packaging my memorabilia.” He waves his hand and starts to trudge away from you.

“U-uh, shouldn’t you show me around first or something?”

Terzo spins on his heel back in your direction and starts to walk toward you. The closer he gets to you, the more you can see the wrinkles that had been obscured with his paint. His bright, white eye sparkles in the low light. You tuck your folder against your chest, a blank expression across your face. He looms over you and his eyes drift over your shoulder before he points behind. You turn your body slowly, looking to the double doors.

“In there – the dining room. That is where the memorabilia is.”

His breath tickles the side of your neck and it gives you goosebumps. You can only bring yourself to nod slowly, trying to think of the salary that was promised in the ad and then step toward the doors. He watches you for a moment before slinking away. You hear him leave and a sense of relief washes over you as you open one of the double doors.

The dining room is a complete mess. There are half filled boxes everywhere, different fabrics and strange items littered across the floor. The dining table is covered in piles and piles of books. You close the door behind you and immediately start to think through a plan of attack. It was already after lunch so you only had a few hours to get started. This is not what you were expecting but then again, the amount you were getting paid made it worth it.

From what you could tell from rummaging through his things, he had been in some sort of spooky music group. There are posters with concert dates, ticket stubs and several different books full of photographs of him and masked men performing on stage. You think that it makes perfect sense given everything you’ve observed from him so far, especially his dramatic paint. Still, there is something darker about him - something that chills you when you think about it.

Your thoughts run wild. In the photos, he looks regal like he is some kind of prince, commanding the attention of the crowd. There are photos of women swooning, of him holding people’s hands and kissing the back of them while their faces light up. He seemed immensely popular from the size of the crowds and the interactions you’ve been able to see from rummagining.

What happened? Did he retire? Did the band fizzle out? He didn’t seem all that old… You wonder why he is here, in this home in your town. It doesn’t seem like a place for someone of his profession or status. You carefully start to organize the tour memorabilia on the table, trying to keep like items together before diving back into another box on the floor.

Terzo isn’t too far away, in fact he is right outside of the door for most of the time you’re working in the dining room. After every little noise he presses his ear to the door, listening to your movement. The feeling of excitement starts to warm his body up, his skin tingling as he starts to think up how he wants to play with you. It takes all of his self control not to burst in the room and scare you, just to see the look on your face.

Oh, he wants to mess with you. He wants to see your smooth skin turn pink, to make you squeak and stutter just by lingering a bit too close to you. Terzo stifles a groan at the thought and presses his head against the door. Unbeknownst to you, you are his little mouse to chase, to tease, to bring some liveliness back to his boring life. He can’t help but scratch his nails against the door and gives another soft groan at the thought of someone giving him attention again.

He wants you now but he knows he must wait. He has to bide his time, he has to slowly draw you into him until nothing else matters to you. There’s movement from the dining room and Terzo quickly takes a step back from the door, but the sound fades and he’s left in silence. A deep sigh falls from his lips as his mind turns back to you. Even from just meeting you, he can tell that you are going to be perfect for him to prey on.

Terzo slips out of the sitting room.

You hear something from behind the door but when you lower the box onto the table quietly, it’s gone. A shiver runs down your spine. Even with being completely alone in the dining room you can’t help but feel like you’re being watched. Maybe it’s an effect of this old house - maybe it’s haunted. You shake your head, figuring you are being a little bit too influenced by the prayer candles and spirit boards you’ve been sorting through.

Your fingers pull at the flaps of the box, the last one from the floor for you to go through. Once it’s open, you sink to your seat and stare at the contents.

Condoms. Condoms with his face on them. Condoms that say “Popestar” and “Missionary Man”. You pick one up from the box and turn it over a few times in your hand, your mouth agape.

“You haven’t gotten much done, eh?”

His voice makes you jump, the condom wrapper you have been examining flinging from your hand. He watches it fall to the ground before settling his gaze back on you, a darkly amused look on his face. He must have crept in from the kitchen.

“I-I mean I just started.” You struggle to put a sentence together as you are distracted by his mismatched eyes. “Actually, I haven’t technically accepted the position yet.”

“Oh? So you don’t need the job?” The venom in his voice makes your skin crawl.

“No, no, I do — I do need the job.” There is a sick kind of satisfaction oozing from his annoyed expression. “I am just going to need to have the job offer in writing, including pay.” You almost whisper but you keep your eyes locked on his. You need that money. His lips curl into a smirk and he nods.

“I’ll have it for you tomorrow, topolina.” Terzo purrs as he leans against the table. Your eyes drift and you notice the now unbuttoned dress shirt giving way to his hairy chest. He leans down, his robe coming completely open, and picks the condom up off the floor and tosses it back on the table. “You will be back tomorrow, si?”

“Y-yes, sir.” You realize you don’t even know what you’re supposed to call him yet.

“Ah, bene.” His eyes sparkle of mischief and he hovers just next to you for a moment, looming over you. The tension rises in the room and you can feel your chest start to tighten. Terzo gives a soft growl, then exits the dining room, his long robe trailing behind him. You rest your head in your hands and exhale slowly. You make a decision here and now: you’ll stick with this job until the first paycheck and then you’ll figure out whether the obvious red flags are worth the pay.

As you gather up your things, you decide to leave a copy of your resume there, just in case he wants to review it. You sling your backpack over your shoulder and grab your phone, heading out of the dining room but something stops you midstep. The distant sound of him singing fills your ears. You can’t tell what the song is but he sounds incredible. Your eyes flicker over the mountains of memorabilia as you finally get your feet moving.

He finishes singing as soon as you’ve stepped outside of the house, hovering by one of his bedroom windows to watch you get into your car. A growl rumbles up from his throat and he can’t help but run his fingers down his chest but stops just short of his briefs. He exhales slowly — he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself but the arousal he feels just from you perceiving him is too much for him to handle.

Terzo had forgotten what it felt like not to be alone.

He thinks about you on your knees in front of him, singing his praises, telling him how good he is before tugging at his waistband. His hand snakes down to palm himself through his briefs with a soft moan and starts to make his way to his bed. Terzo sits on the edge of it, his cock straining against the fabric of his briefs, the tip of it poking through the slit. He pushes them down and frees himself, his hard cock resting on his stomach.

Terzo thinks about you begging to taste him, begging for him to use you however he wants. His cock jumps and he takes it in his hand, lazily stroking it as growls rumble in his throat. He leans back on to the bed, his legs still dangling off the side. He could have anyone he wanted when he was Papa. People would beg him to take them to bed, to get a taste of Papa Emeritus. At the time, he felt a deep loneliness and self-loathing despite the attention or perhaps because of the attention, but he hardly ever turned it down. There was always the one moment he thought that they were there because of him, because of who he was and not because of the title he held, and that moment made it feel okay.

Terzo would take that over the loneliness he feels now.

His eyes fall shut, his lips part as soft moans fill the room. He strokes his cock more vigorously now, his thumb swiping over the tip every few strokes. He thinks of you behaving like the other siblings and ghouls that had wanted him so very badly. On your knees still, begging for your communion. You would open your mouth for him and stick out your tongue, ready to receive.

“Oh, cazzo.” He squeezes his eyes shut and gives a thundering moan as he finishes, thick ropes of cum landing on his chest and dress shirt. Terzo pants and lets his hand rest on his stomach, his chest rising and falling while his eyes drift back to the window.

He can’t wait to see you again tomorrow.

#papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo #terzo x reader #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfics

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theflyindutchwoman · 6 months

Text

Is this the same undercover thing you and Tim were discussing the other night? I already told you that kiss didn't mean anything. Right, right. It was for the case. Make out. Stop crime. That totally tracks. Go to school. Okay. Well, have a great day. With your boss. Who you kissed.

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 5.01 - Double Down

Words cannot express how much I love this scene… I mean, what a way to start the episode - and the season! This serves as a perfect reminder of the seismic shift that happened in A Day in the Hole… and as an acknowledgement that this was more than a mere kiss, no matter how many times Tim and Lucy want to pretend otherwise. Their reactions made that very clear, be it right after their makeout or the morning after. And Lucy's dream emphasises this again, as it takes place a few days later. They're still affected. They're still reeling. Although, technically, this isn't the first time Tim appears in her dreams… Back when she was a rookie and fell asleep on their night shift, he was already present in her mind, in his full sarcastic and sassy glory. Even her dreams showcases the growth of their relationship...

But the way she is smiling in her sleep… So much for this being just a kiss! She is absolutely enjoying replaying that moment. With her boss. Not her boyfriend. And what makes this even better, is that this isn't the same footage. It's the same angle, same ambiance and all… But this is a steamier version. One where Tim is being more assertive and emboldened. Her dream is so telling… It does get interrupted in the same manner than their kiss. Tamara is nothing if not consistent. Lucy being so flustered, caught off-balance, looking a bit guilty proves how far gone she is.

Thankfully for Lucy, Tamara doesn't bring that up yet, giving her some time to recover. This part of this scene tends to be overlooked with everything that goes on, but that Tamara wants to be there for Lucy is so touching. She did something similar for her for the prep trial. She tries to act casual, giving her some options on how they could spend the day together… Just so she wouldn't have to think about it or be by herself on this day. Something that is incredibly thoughtful because Lucy wouldn't necessarily confide in her, to avoid burdening her. I like that she has a support system… Better yet, that this system is one she created herself. This is exactly what she would do without question if their roles were reversed. These two have such a deep connection and love for each other, it's really heartwarming.

But the teasing is never far with them… And Tamara can't help herself the second Lucy mentions her undercover op. She is having too much fun at her expense… And honestly, who can blame her? 'I already told you that kiss didn't mean anything'… Says the woman who was replaying that kiss in 4k full HD in her dream a minute ago… Who's the lying liar who lies now?! But it's the fact that apparently Tamara brought that kiss up before that sends me… The way Lucy says 'I already told you' makes me think that they've had this conversation several times in the past few days. And not just after Tam got home that night. Her shit eating grin says it all… 'Make out. Stop crime'. So iconic. Once upon a time, Tim told Lucy that 'cop eyes stop crime'… Talk about a different approach.

'Have a great day. With your boss. Who you kissed'. I could quote this whole exchange, this is so hilarious. And I like that it shows how comfortable Tamara and Lucy are with each other. That they are family. Who teases mercilessly each other. For kissing their boss… Who has to deal with something quite similar...

#the rookie #chenford #chenfordedit #lucy chen #tim bradford #5.01 #Anatomy of a scene - Chenford Edition

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skz317cb97 · 1 year

Text

Valentine's Don't

Bang Chan x Female reader

Word count: 4k

Synopsis: Sick of spending every Valentine's Day in a rut you impulsively ask a cute guy at the bar to go out with you. Will your plan to meet up backfire in your face?

A/N: This was a wonderful idea brought to me by one of my sweet friends. I'm not sure if they want to be named but they know who they are. I loved this idea as soon as I heard it! I was hoping to have it all done in one part for Valentine's Day but couldn't quite make it. Oh well. Hope you all enjoy! If you do please like, comment, share, shoot an ask, I love to hear from you all! Also there is no smut in this part but there will be in part 2.

Warnings: None really. Swearing/strong language, drinking/mentions of alcohol. That's it I think. If I missed something let me know!

Why, why did you let your friend talk you into coming to the bar one week before Valentine’s Day? You always hated the ‘holiday’ ever since elementary school. It was just a popularity contest that you never won, hell you never even placed. Now you were at the bar alone, ditched by your friend that made you come out in the first place when the first halfway cute guy approached her. Not that you blamed her. If a halfway hot guy approached you right now you probably wouldn’t be so bitter but alas you clearly weren’t winning any popularity contests still. Which may be your fault, you were not always the most approachable person, but your past had taught you to be guarded.

You were working on your third drink since your friend had disappeared and after you emptied the glass you happened to catch a look at a guy from across the bar. He was way beyond halfway hot he was scorching, fire, lava. What’s hotter than lava? He was that! He looked away when the two of you made eye contact.

Had he been looking at you? Only one way to find out. Tipsy you was about to make a big move because why the fuck not at this rate? The worst he could do was say no, well no, the worst he could do was laugh in your face and tell you you’re dumb and ugly. You were going out on a limb that he wasn’t the type to say that. You approached him with all the BDE you could muster.

“How many times a day do you get told your gorgeous, it's gotta be in the double digits.” He turned towards you smiling and his ears instantly turned red.

“Probably about half as much as you do.” You grimaced.

“Yikes. That bad huh?” He laughed at the jab you took at yourself not realizing it was one hundred percent true. No one ever walked up to you let alone walked up and told you you were gorgeous. Maybe it was the ‘don’t fuck with me’ look that had a way of unintentionally appearing on your face or maybe they thought... you were hit with a realization you, for some stupid reason, hadn’t considered before approaching him

“Oh wait, oh shit, I’m sorry you have a girlfriend don’t you. I’m so sorr-” He shook his head.

“No no. You’re fine I don’t have a girlfriend.” You quirked an eyebrow.

“Boyfriend?” He laughed so hard his dimples appeared.

“No boyfriend either no, I’m single.” You nodded.

“So do you come to this bar a lot?” he wiggled his hand back and forth.

“Sometimes, some of my friends are in the band.”

“What about next Tuesday?” It was so random, and you asked so quickly it caught him off guard.

“Oh uh...” He thought for a moment.

“Ohhh isn’t that Valen-” You waved and shook your head.

“Yea okay look I’m gonna give it to you straight is that okay?” You legitimately waited for his reply, and he nodded. Just lay it all out for him, fuck it.

“You’re probably the prettiest person I’ve ever seen in my life, and I don’t even know your name, but I have never had a good Valentine’s Day, I’m always angry and alone. I don’t want another repeat, I’m sick to death of it, for once I’d like to go out with a cute guy and actually enjoy the stupid holiday. So here it is, I’m going to come to this bar at 7 pm February 14th. If you think spending Valentine’s with me might be fun, meet me here. If you don’t, well then, no hard feelings.” You turned to walk away, and he caught your hand to stop you.

“Chris...” You looked at him confused.

“My name...it’s Chris...” You smiled and nodded then turned and headed straight out of the bar. You would text your friend to tell her you left, you had to go after that move. As soon as you were out the door you were mentally kicking yourself. God that must have seemed so desperate, you hoped it came off as confident. Ugh why did you do that!?

Every day that week up until Valentine’s Day you went back and forth between freaking out and trying to be optimistic. He did laugh and he’d told you his name, but you were never very good at being optimistic. Your internal monolog was louder. ‘He could have been laughing at you not with you, Chris is so generic he probably said the first name that came to mind.’ Then you would be back to freaking out again.

Valentine’s Day. You had decided you were going to go, now all you had to do was muster up that same BDE that you’d had when you asked him out in the first place. You dressed nicely but not too fancy, put on a little make up and just threw your hair up, a few of those stubborn pieces refusing to stay put, falling around your face. Your nerves started to get to you again, and that voice. ‘No sense in trying too hard, he won’t be coming.’

You second guessed even going yourself and you had just about talked yourself out of it, then you saw yourself in the mirror. You had put in a little effort to look nice already, you could at least go and have a drink then leave when he doesn’t show. No one would know the difference anyway.

So you were sitting there at the bar about halfway through your first drink, you were trying to pace yourself, but when you looked at the clock and saw seven fifteen you downed the rest of your glass and signaled to the bar tender for another.

At seven thirty and two drinks down, you decided you would rather get drunk at home alone than in a bar full of couples groping each other while wearing literal heart eyes. You threw some cash down on the bar and went to leave. As you were making your way through the sea of people you could hear someone from the crowd behind you calling for someone.

“Hey! Uh... wait hey!” The voice sounded like it was getting closer and closer. Whoever they were looking for was evidently in your direction.

“Wait! Fucking hell, I... I don’t know your name... fuck. Hey gorgeous!” For some reason that struck you and made you turn. When you did you saw that the person who had been yelling was in fact yelling for you and that person was Chris. You must have looked shocked when he walked up.

“I’m so sorry I’m late I was taking care of something really important and it took me a little longer than I thought it would.” You still stood there stunned. He actually came? You shook the cobwebs in your brain loose and remembered how to speak.

“Oh, uh no that’s fine, I just figured...” He frowned a little.

“I was standing you up? Sorry, I’d have texted and told you, but I didn’t know your number, or your name...” He chuckled rubbing the back of his neck.

“No really it's okay, did you want to grab a drink?” He shook his head.

“We should probably get going if we’re going to make our dinner reservations.” You stood there stunned again.

“D-dinner?” He laughed, his eyes scrunched and his dimples showed.

“Yes, dinner. It’s Valentine’s Day and I’m taking a cute girl out to dinner.” You started giggling like a teenaged girl talking to her crush. Your giggle transformed into a cough as you cleared your throat, trying to maintain your cool façade from the week before.

“Right of course dinner. Let’s go then.” Chris smiled and placed his hand on the small of your back. You wished it didn’t send a shiver up your spine. God you were touch starved. Chris led you out of the bar and to his car, opening the door for you. Right at that very moment you actually stopped and thought for a second. What you were doing seemed so crazy you hadn’t told any of your friends. Cute or not, no one knew you were meeting this guy and you were about to climb in his car. You hesitated getting in.

“You’re not some serial killer, are you? If I ask and you are, you have to tell, that’s the rule.” Chris laughed with his whole body. You really liked his laugh; it was warm and made you smile.

“I think that’s for undercover police but no, I’m not a serial killer.” You nodded side eyeing him.

“That’s exactly what I’d expect an undercover cop to say.” Tears were in his eyes, every time he thought he had a hold of himself you had him laughing again. What Chris didn’t realize was humor was your security blanket when you were nervous. It was kind of hard for you to make friends, it wasn’t easy for you to open up and be vulnerable enough for people to really get to know you. When you did make friends it was usually because you made them laugh, so that was your go to safety net when you weren’t sure if being yourself was okay.

After a short ride you pulled up to a small restaurant. The only way it stood out was the neon sign with its name in cursive. You could blink and miss it. When Chris led you into the dimly lit restaurant you could hear salsa music playing. There was limited seating and a dance floor took up quite a bit of space. The only time you had ever danced was at prom and that was more shuffling back and forth while being groped than it was actually dancing.

“We don’t have to dance. I picked this place because they have great food and music, the dancing is optional.” He must have picked up on your immediate apprehension.

“We can dance.” The fuck were you saying?

“Looks fun.” FUN!? Oh God why was your overzealous mouth sabotaging you like that.

“Really?” He asked surprised and you nodded

“Yea really!” ‘Yea really’ you mocked yourself in your head as you continued to speak without thinking.

“That’s great, I used to be a dancer. I don’t get to do it very often anymore.” Of course he used to be a dancer, look at him. Making an ass out of yourself in front of a hot amateur wasn’t enough, go ahead and make a fool of yourself in front of a hot professional instead.

“You used to be a dancer?” That was in fact what he said. Braindead much? He nodded and suddenly your mouth was overriding your brain again.

“Exotic?” Chris laughed shaking his head.

“No no, mostly hip hop but some contemporary and ballroom as well.” Fantastic. You dropped the subject as you made it to the table. Maybe it wouldn’t come up again. Once you were both seated and your drinks were ordered you started to loosen up a bit. You had a little small talk, but you still didn’t open up about yourself.

Chris was friendly and open. He struck you as the type that never met a stranger. You both ordered your food and he was right, the meal was delicious. The music was good, and he was pleasant to talk to also. After you ate you both sat there listening to the band. Chris smiled and tapped his toe along with the rhythm.

“You know someone in the band here too?” You asked sarcastically and sipped your drink. His dimples appeared again.

“Yes actually.” You almost spit your drink out.

“Really?!” He nodded smiling ear to ear and pointed.

“See the buff dude playing drums?” You shook your head.

“That’s my friend Changbin, he fills in here sometimes, but he usually plays at the bar where we met.” Then you recognized him, you had seen him playing at the bar before.

“So how about that dance.” You laughed nervously. You really hoped he’d forgotten about that.

“Aren’t you supposed to wait twenty minutes before dancing after a meal?” Chris shook his head laughing again. You really liked his laugh.

“I’m pretty sure that’s swimming but if you don’t want to-” You quickly shook your head.

“No, I want to!” Internal face palm. Way to not take the out he gave you genius.

“You sure?” You nodded. There you go! Double down on your chance to look stupid, why not?

“Great come on!” He held out his hand and you took it. As he led you towards the dance floor your heartbeat got louder and louder in your ears, you almost couldn’t hear the music. When he turned to face you, you had no idea what to do. Chris picked up on that pretty quickly if he didn’t know outright from the start. He pulled you closer by your hips, then he placed your hands on his shoulders before grabbing your hips again.

“Just follow my lead.” You gave him a small smile and shook your head as he started to sway both of your hips to the beat of the music.

“There you go, now look at me.” Your eyes had been glued to your feet. Two of Chris’ fingers placed under your chin tilted your head up to look him in the eye.

“Perfect. Gorgeous.” You could feel yourself starting to flush.

“Now when I take a step forward you take a step back and when I take a step back you take one forward. It’s easy.” He took a step back and you followed taking a step forward. Chris’ hips swiveled to the rhythm as he took a step forward and you back.

“A natural!” You bit back the smile trying to force its way out.

“Yea a natural disaster, just like a tornado.” You scoffed and Chris laughed. You made it through the first song only stepping on his toes a few times, then a slower more sultry song started.

Chris pulled you closer, your hips almost pressed together, you didn’t think your face could burn any hotter when his hips started swaying with yours, his arms around your waist, yours wrapped around his shoulders. You bravely toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck while watching your feet again. When you did, he started rubbing his thumbs gently against your lower back making your skin erupt in goosebumps.

“So why do you hate Valentine’s Day?” He suddenly broke the silence between you. You looked up and shrugged your shoulders opting to look over his shoulder and not in his eyes as you attempted to be a little open.

“Might as well be Friday the thirteenth to me. It’s just never been a good day, I dunno. Break ups always seemed to happen around that time for me, I always end up alone. When I caught my last boyfriend cheating on me on Valentine's Day that just kind of sealed the deal for me.”

“How long ago was that?” You just shook your head. It had been years but you had given up on finding someone, trying to be content in your loneliness. This stupid holiday just always got to you. You finally willed yourself to look at him, Chris gave you a tight smile.

“Sorry.” You shook your head and tried to laugh it off putting up the wall again.

“What are you sorry for? It’s just some corporate holiday to make money off saps. It’s not that big of a deal really.” You looked back over his shoulder again focusing on the wall behind him hoping he wouldn’t press the matter as you tried to hide the overwhelming sadness you felt suddenly. He didn’t thankfully and you finished dancing to the song in silence.

“Come on let's get out of here.”

“Where to?” Chris shook his head.

“Nnnope, it’s a surprise and why I was late. I hope that it makes up for it.”

“You’ve already more than made up for it just by coming at all Chris. Thanks.” He smiled and his hand braced the small of your back as you both got your things and left the restaurant. Once you both were in the car and on your way a silence hung between you again and that internal monolog of yours came back. ‘You sounded desperate before now you sound sad and des-” As if Chris could sense the spiraling thoughts in your head, he finally broke the silence.

“So Valentine’s Day is a bust holiday for you, what’s your favorite?” You thought about his question and then shook your head not wanting to give him the sad answer.

“Come on you can tell me, please?” He pushed his bottom lip out and it was too cute not to give into.

“Halloween was my favorite when I was a kid.” Chris smiled.

“All the candy is pretty awesome.” You shook your head.

“No, I mean yeah, the candy was great, but I liked it because I was able to be someone else for a day, anyone else. I don’t know just someone that wasn’t me.” Chris’ brow furrowed.

“Why wouldn’t you want to be you?” Chris was pulling up to an iron fence and parking as he asked. You couldn’t help your attention suddenly being drawn to your surroundings.

“Just because I... uh Chris why are we at a cemetery?” He shook his head.

“It’s not a cemetery it’s a botanical garden. A friend...”

“Plays in the band here too?” He laughed, that warm sweet laugh of his.

“No no they run the place though and when they closed at seven I met her and got the keys to the place. Which is why I was so late. Sorry again about that.” You shook your head, you were shocked. If Chris put so much effort into a Valentine’s date with a total stranger he must be a really good friend. You hoped after that night you could be friends.

He unlocked the gate and led you into the garden. It was kind of hard to see just at first then Chris disappeared for a second and the next thing you knew hundreds of thousands of twinkle lights lit up the whole garden. It was breathtakingly beautiful. Suddenly Chris was by your side again startling you.

You turned to him with your hand still over your heart. When you looked up at him you couldn’t speak. He was beautiful, you knew that, anyone with eyes knew that, but with the lights and the garden, his smile that scrunched up his eyes, he was stunning, hence the speechlessness. Finally you forced yourself to form words.

“Chris... I... just... you did all of this for me? Dinner? This garden? For me?” You were genuinely confused because you had never met anyone like him before, as beautiful inside as he was outside. Your cool façade was melting, you had no joke or punchline.

“Well it’s not like I strung up all the lights or anything, but yeah! I know it’s not much-” You kissed him. You threw your arms around his shoulders and kissed him and he kissed you back. It was a soft innocent kiss, a thank you, that words alone couldn’t convey.

“Thank you.” You whispered as you pulled back with your eyes closed. He tasted like mint and smelled like the woods.

“You’re welcome-” His voice was a breath; he cupped your face and immediately kissed you again. There was more passion behind his lips the second time, his hands cradled your face as he tilted his head, his plump lips slightly parting to taste more of yours. You followed, your lips parting, head tilting. Chris’ tongue gently invaded your mouth, teasing yours.

You toyed with the curls at his neck again as the two of you slowly, softly kissed. Chris let go of your face and wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you closer. After a moment you two broke the kiss, having to breathe being your only reason. You both stood there flushed, chests rapidly rising and falling with heavy breaths, arms wrapped around one another. He chewed at his bottom lip and smiled at you, forcing a small smile onto your face.

“Um, heh, uh why don’t I show you around the place hm?” You nodded and Chris grabbed your hand and started to lead you through the garden. You both walked quietly for some time looking at all the beautiful flowers and reading different descriptions before Chris’ voice cut through the silence.

“You know you really are gorgeous.” It caught you off guard. You must have looked shocked. You had been looking at flowers, but Chris had really only been looking at you this whole time.

“W-what makes you say that?” He stopped walking and turned to you, grabbing your other hand holding both in his own.

“Because you are and because I really want to kiss you again.” Before you could even think of how to reply to that Chris’ lips were softly pressed against yours again, his fingers threading through your hair. You gripped the front of his shirt and kissed him back, things getting heated rather quickly between the two of you. Finally Chris broke away apologizing.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m... uhh, I’m trying to be respectful, just... when I kiss you...” He wasn’t even sure of what he was trying to say.

“It’s okay Chris...” You pulled him closer by his shirt and kissed him again both of you getting lost in the other momentarily. When your lips parted again you both started laughing.

“How about I get you home?” Chris chuckled and you nodded, smiling the biggest smile you had in the longest time. You walked back out of the garden the way you came in so Chris could turn off the lights and lock back up. You both hopped in his car, you gave him directions to your place, and you were off. The car ride there was accompanied by some soft music Chris had put on. Once you got to your place Chris parked the car.

“Hold on l’ll get your door.” Before you could insist that it was unnecessary, he was out of the car making his way around to your side. He opened the door and helped you out. He kept a hold of your hand the whole way to your front door. You fished your keys out and stood there a moment.

“This has been the best Valentine’s Day Chris. Thank you.” You couldn’t look at him only your feet, you felt so vulnerable at that moment. Chris traced the back of his fingers along your cheek, you tilted your head up and he leaned in and kissed you goodnight.

“Thank you for inviting me to spend the evening with you.” Just before you opened your front door Chris cleared his throat. You turned and looked at him confused.

“Well I was just wondering I mean... I’d like to take you out again some time if that’s alright?” You nodded smiling.

“I’d really like that Chris.” He stood there for a moment like he was still waiting for something more.

“Would it be okay if I got your number?” He handed you his phone as you laughed.

“Of course, I wasn’t even thinking!” You typed your number in and hit call. Your phone started ringing and you hung up.

“There now I’ve got yours too.” You handed Chris back his phone.

“Just one more thing?” You stood there waiting for his final request from you perhaps another goodnight kiss.

“What’s your name?” Oh holy shit, you had gone this whole evening and not once did you bother mentioning your name!

“Oh my god Chris I’m so sorry!” He laughed then you leaned in and kissed him, your lips slightly parted from his.

“y/n.” He nodded and gave you one more peck on the lips smiling.

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @hyunelixies @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh

“y/n... gorgeous.”

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #chris bang smut #chan smut #skz317cb97 #cal 🖤

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justagalwhowrites · 1 year

Text

Lavender - Ch. 9

You've found a new normal in your life in the QZ. Then it all changes. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-8, found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller X Female Reader

Length: 4K

Warnings: Nothing major this time but the whole fic is VERY 18+ so minors? DNI :) Mention of past miscarriage. No use of Y/N

Sunday, October 5, 2008 - Five Years Later

You’d purposely filled up your Sunday. It wasn’t a day you wanted to think about. Having even a few minutes alone sounded awful. Your birthday had always been hell since the outbreak and you needed anything to keep your mind busy. You wished it was just Monday already. Mondays were long days. Sundays, you had to work at it.

You got an early start, waking up at 6 a.m. and putting on a Joni Mitchell CD you’d found a few weeks back. You’d traded a few ration cards for it, but it was worth it. You French braided your hair, putting ribbons on the ends. They matched the flowers you’d stitched to cover up the patches you’d made on your shirt. You always felt a bit better when you had ribbons and flowers around. You really needed that, on your birthday.

Breakfast just sounded miserable, so you gathered up the cookies you’d made the night before - splitting them into two groups, the larger pile for the clinic and the smaller for Abe. You headed for the radio first.

The line was always short on Sunday morning if you went first thing. There were only four people ahead of you when you got there. You normally let your mind wander while you waited, or brought a book, but you’d been so busy trying to distract yourself that morning, you’d left your book sitting next to your bed. Instead, you eavesdropped.

The person who was in with Abe when you got there had been communicating regularly with their sister in Kansas City. The sister had news about a man she’d been seeing. It sounded good. You smiled a little. It was nice when the radio brought good news. There was so little to be had anymore.

Abe stepped into the hall where you were waiting to grab the next person and noticed you in line.

“Sweets!” He smiled, jerking his head at you. “You’re up.”

“Come on, man!” The man two people ahead of you snapped. “I’ve been waiting!”

“Start bringing me cookies every week, you can jump the line, too,” Abe snapped. “Sweets doesn’t have to wait.”

“It’s fine, really…” you began, but Abe cut you off.

“You don’t wait,” he said. “C’mon.”

You smiled apologetically at the people in line ahead of you and followed Abe into the radio room, closing the door behind you. You gave him his cookies, wrapped in paper and twine. He opened them, wriggling his fingers at the small pile.

“I don’t know how you make oatmeal cookies so damn good,” he said, grabbing one and taking a bite, closing his eyes in pleasure. “But damn, do you ever.”

“Brown the butter,” you smiled.

“I don’t even know what the fuck that means,” he said. “That’s why you don’t have to wait. What do you need, Sweets? The usual?”

You nodded. He licked the crumbs off his fingers.

“I can tell you right now, there’s no news,” he said. “Everyone knows who to look out for…”

“I know,” you smiled. “But can you double check for me? Need the list?”

“Sweets, it’s been five years,” he smiled sadly at you. “I don’t need the list.”

He started, as always, at the Dallas QZ.

“Howdy Dallas, hope you’re having a good Sunday,” he said. “Got my usual. Looking to see if you’ve had any new arrivals by the name Joel Miller, Sarah Miller or Thomas Miller. Those three would likely all be together. Also looking for a Cassandra Wilson and a Joshua Trumble.” He was silent for a moment. You heard a crackle of sound from his headphones. “What about folks matching those descriptions?”

He rattled off ages, general appearances. There was a short crackle. He just shook his head at you and moved on to Atlanta.

It didn’t take him long to get through all the QZs. There was nothing. You weren’t surprised, but you were always a little let down all the same. You held out the ration cards you traded him but he just looked at them. You frowned for a second.

“Did the price change?” You asked. “I can get more, I have some saved…”

“It doesn’t…” he sighed, looking at you. “I don’t know that I can keep taking your money, Sweets.”

“I promise you can,” you smiled. “I hold it out, you put it in your hand, done deal.”

“You’ve been here twice a week, every week, for five years,” his eyes were sad. “Everyone in the country knows who you’re looking for. If they were out there, we’d have found them. I’m sorry, I think it’s time that…”

“You’re sweet to worry,” you cut him off. “But I know them. They just… haven’t made it to a QZ yet, that’s all. Joel and Tommy and Sarah especially. They’re probably… I don’t know, living off the land somewhere. They’ll probably end up at a QZ eventually for some reason, right? I’ll find them when they do.”

You held the cards out, more insistently this time. He sighed and took them.

“Thanks, Abe,” you smiled. “Muffins Wednesday?”

“You spoil me, Sweets.”

The clinic was just opening for the day when you got there, Andrew camped out behind the front desk. You frowned.

“What are you doing here?” You asked. “You don’t work Sundays.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, not looking at you. “Figured I’d work this Sunday.” You sighed. He met your eyes. “You doing OK?” “Don’t know what you mean,” you smiled tightly, handing him the paper-wrapped package of cookies. “Can you make sure these get around to everyone? I don’t want to bring them home with me…”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Because anyone ever turns down your baking.”

You smiled a little, drumming your hands on the desk for a moment before heading into the back to set your bag down and grab your supplies for the day.

When you’d gotten to the QZ almost five years ago to the day, you’d been a mess. Andrew had been the only reason you’d made it alive. The miscarriage had taken a turn. You’d needed him to find abortive medications at a pharmacy to finish it which, thankfully, had been left on the shelves in the midst of other looting. You survived the sepsis because you’d grabbed the antibiotics a few days earlier and you recognized the signs.

Intake had been rough. You were covered in blood. You hadn’t been able to bring yourself to change. They searched your body over and over. Andrew had been screaming from the next bed but you couldn’t remember what he’d been yelling. You weren’t sure if you ever known. It took a day or two before you were able to really communicate anything with the powers that be in what became the QZ.

The second they heard you had a degree in biology, had been finishing up a pre-med degree and had started studying for medical school, they sent a military doctor in to talk to you.

“Still interested in becoming a doctor?” He asked, arms crossed. It was a harder question to answer than it should have been. Were you interested in anything anymore?

“Yes,” you said eventually. “But I don’t exactly think the MCATs are still happening.”

“We desperately need doctors,” he said. “I’ll train you. It’ll be hard, med school on steroids, because we need people now. At the moment, we have me and not much else.”

“How?” You frowned. “This is Boston. There’s Harvard, there’s…”

“Almost no one made it out of there,” he shook his head. “We need you. I can train you.”

You thought for a second.

“OK.”

Dr. Elias had loaded you down with texts almost immediately, giving you assigned reading and having you shadow him at every opportunity. You were stitching wounds closed in a matter of days. Removing an appendix in a year.

More doctors had arrived at the QZ over time but, by then, you were one of them. You’d never have the degree - not that a piece of paper meant a damn thing in the apocalypse - but you were a doctor. It was the first time you’d felt really satisfied since summer, 2003. The day Dr. Elias told you that you didn’t need to shadow him anymore, you had full privileges, Andrew took you for a drink at the speakeasy. You thought of when you graduated college, Joel toasting you with a bottle of real champagne - one from France - he’d gone out of his way to find.

Sunday in the clinic kept you busy enough. You had a steady stream of patients, with everything from UTIs to stitches for a kid who jumped off some steps and cut their head open to a guy with syphilis whose symptoms had gotten so bad he finally decided to see someone. The day, mercifully, flew by, not leaving you much time to think. It was pushing 10 p.m. when you realized how tired you were.

“Hey Teach,” Andrew called to you. “Got a few more for you.”

“Seriously?” You leaned across the counter, your head down on the desk. “I’m getting too old for this. It’s too late in the day for this.”

“You are not too old for this,” he teased.

“I’m 30 now, Andrew,” you lifted your head and propped your chin on your fist. “I’m basically dead.”

“They say that 30’s the new 20,” he shrugged, leaning back in his chair.

“Nah, it’s the opposite in QZ years,” you said. “30 is the new 74. I’m an old woman, basically geriatric.”

“If you don’t take these, you’re going to the bar with me,” he said. You glared at him. He shrugged. “These are your choices, Teach. Not going to let you just go home and be sad and old. You can be sad and old here or sad and old at the bar, pick your poison.”

You sighed and held out your hand.

“Gimme the charts.”

He handed you two folders and you frowned.

“You didn’t say it was intake,” you said, looking at the tag color. “I’m not… Come on, don’t make me euthanize anyone today.”

“You really think I’d do that to you?” He asked. “They cleared that part already, they just need to be examined. Make sure they’re not too feral, sounds like they’ve never been to a QZ before so they might be rabid.”

You rolled your eyes.

“And I guess actually take care of people who haven’t had medical attention in five years,” he said. “That part, too.”

“Your generation is the reason the world ended,” you said. “I’m convinced.”

“I’m seven years younger than you, we’re the same shitty generation!” He leaned on the counter. “C’mon. Go treat the patients, then we can go get hammered. I think we need to get hammered. If you don’t want to go to the bar, I’ve got whiskey.”

“Shitty whiskey.”

“Does it matter?”

You smiled a little.

“It does not.” You sighed, cracking your neck before jogging in place for a second. “Alright, just two more and then this miserable day is officially over. Let’s get this across the finish line.” “Go, sports team!” He gave you a fist pump. You rolled your eyes and opened the top file.

You almost fainted.

“Where are they?” You asked. Your hands were shaking. You pulled your eyes from the file and looked at Andrew. “Where are they? What exam room, where are they? Andrew…”

“They’re in 14, far end,” he said, his eyebrows knitting together. “What’s…”

You dropped the file and started running.

“Joel!”

You were screaming, you couldn’t help it. Your legs couldn’t move fast enough.

“Joel!”

The door to the exam room on the far end opened and there he was.

He was both exactly the same and so different. Still tall and broad and handsome, his hair still shaggy and curly, skin still golden tan. But he looked worn, like he’d been kicked a few too many times. He looked broken. It took him a second to register that he was looking at you. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head, a moment of confusion, then disbelief, then he was running for you.

You threw yourself against him and he caught you, his arms wrapping around you so tightly you thought he might break you in two and you didn’t care. You took what felt like your first full breath in five years. He didn’t smell like sawdust anymore but it was him. You were sobbing.

“Joel,” you breathed. Your voice was wet, your fingers in his hair as you clung to him.

“You’re alive,” he choked out. He sounded breathless. He held you so close. “You’re alive, I thought you were dead, I thought I lost you years ago…”

He dropped to his knees and took you with him, pulling back from you just enough to look at you. His hands went from your body to your face, holding you gently, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. You held his arms, smiling so broadly it felt like your face might crack.

“I can’t believe you’re alive,” his eyes searched your face, your hair, looking over every inch of you. “You’re alive…”

“I’ve been searching for you,” you were shaking, your fingers running over his arms. “I’ve been calling every QZ twice a week every week looking for you, I knew I’d find you eventually, I knew I’d find you…”

He pulled you back against him and you held onto him. His hand went to the back of your head, holding you close. Tommy emerged from the room, his eyes wide as he looked at you. “Kid,” he breathed, walking slowly to you and Joel, dropping to his knees next to you. He was blurry through your tears but you smiled and nodded as best you could while being held against his brother. “My God, I never thought I’d see you again…”

“How long have you been here?” Joel pulled back from you again, his eyes searching your own.

“Five years,” you said, laughing a little. “Almost to the day. We were on our way to Martha’s Vineyard and ran into… Actually, I’m not sure if they were actually FEDRA yet but whatever they were, we got rerouted to Boston. I’ve been here since.”

You looked between Tommy and Joel and then frowned.

“Where’s Sarah?” You asked, looking around. “They only gave me two intake files, did someone else take hers? Where’s Sarah?”

Joel didn’t say anything but you’d never seen him in more pain. He looked like someone had cut open his chest and ripped his heart clean out. You knew. Immediately you knew. Your heart broke.

“Oh Joel,” you reached for his face but he jerked back from you. It was like he wasn’t even looking at you anymore. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

***

Tommy knew better than to say Sarah’s name. Joel hadn’t heard it in years. Sometimes, if he went long enough and had enough distractions, he was able to pretend that she was just somewhere else. That he and Tommy were at work and Sarah was safely at home with you. Just like before. Tommy didn’t bring up Sarah.

So when you said her name, it wiped him out. In part because, for a moment, the fact that she was gone had left his mind. It was different than when he was distracted or it was the first moment when he woke up every day, before he remembered. The joy, the relief at finding you - alive and whole and well - had overwhelmed him so much that everything else just lived in a separate reality. A different plane of existence that contained everything bad that he’d ever done or had ever happened to him that he’d left behind for a moment. Hearing her name….

“Teach?” The man from the front desk knelt beside you, his hands going around your shoulders. “We need to find someone else to do this?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, eyes not leaving Joel. You looked devastated. Like someone had gutted you. “Yeah, I can’t… Ethically, I can’t do this, I’m sorry…”

The man tried to pull you away from Joel but he held onto you. You gave the man a glance and a single shake of your head and he backed off.

“I’ll go find Lee,” he said, frowning and searching your face for a moment before he left.

“Where have you been?” You asked Tommy more than Joel, glancing his way before looking back to Joel. “How have you survived this long outside a QZ?”

Joel glanced at Tommy who looked back to him. A silent agreement to not tell you the truth of it.

“Scavenging,” Tommy said after a moment. “Finding what we could where we could. Ended up trading with some smugglers in QZs. Heard Boston wasn’t too bad, relatively speaking. Decided to make our way up here.”

Your eyes kept running over Joel’s face. You found the scar at his temple, your eyes lingering there. You cautiously reached your hand forward and traced it, lightly, before you held his cheek. His eyes met yours.

“You’re here,” you breathed. Your eyes were still so sad. His hand covered yours. “That’s all that matters, you’re here.”

“Mr. Miller? Both Mr. Millers,” A man came out of the back with the guy from the front desk. Joel glanced at him. “We’re going to get you two processed, you’ll have to come with me…”

Joel tightened his grip on you. He couldn’t let you go, not now. Tommy tugged on his arm but Joel shrugged him off.

“Mr. Miller,” the man said again. “We need you to come with us…”

“C’mon,” the man from the desk put his hand on your arm, pulling you gently back from Joel.

“Mr. Miller. You can see her again in just a few minutes…”

“No,” Joel said sharply.

“Joel,” your hand was still on his face. “It’s OK, I’m not going far and neither are you but there are checks we have to do when new people come to the QZ…”

“Joel,” Tommy’s hands were on him now, too. “It won’t be long. Come on.”

Joel pulled you against him one more time, holding you to him for a moment before pulling back from you. He let you go then, let the man lead him to a back room. He looked over his shoulder at you as the man from the front desk pulled you to your feet.

“So that’s the dad…” he said quietly.

“Yeah,” your voice cracked. He pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you. Joel scowled at him before looking straight ahead, following Tommy and the other man.

The other man introduced himself as Dr. Lee and started going over Joel with a fine toothed comb. Joel paid it very little mind. He could not care less, he just wanted to get back to you. Being this far from you made him uneasy. Like if you were out of his sight you’d vanish. He watched the door. He could just see the top of your head pressed to the chest of the man from the desk. He was holding you close. He kissed your hair. Joel ground his teeth.

He still couldn’t believe it was you. You were here, you were alive - fucking alive. He’d mourned you, alongside… He’d felt it. Felt that he’d never see you again, that you were gone.

It didn’t help that, at first glance, you were the same. Exactly the same. You still braided your hair to keep it out of your way, still put ribbons on the ends - he couldn’t remember the last time he saw a fucking ribbon - still put flowers on the broken things. You looked a bit older but he was sure that, if the world had been like it was before, you’d still have been getting carded every time you ordered a beer. You were still fucking beautiful, so goddamn beautiful. You could have stepped straight out of his memories, been a hallucination. At night, when he couldn’t stop them and he was overwhelmed by thoughts of Sarah and you, you looked almost the same as you did now. The only difference was your eyes. There was a haunted knowing in them now. Like you’d learned the secret of the world - that it was cold and cruel - and been left to reckon with it alone.

“Can she come back in now?” Tommy’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I can get her…” he went and opened the door. Addressed you as doctor. You all but ran inside, the other man close behind you. Joel glared at him.

You, however, went straight for Joel, standing beside his exam table and reaching for him cautiously, like you weren’t sure he’d want you to touch him. Your eyes were red. He slipped your hand into his and your fingers laced with his own. He tugged you closer and your other hand went around his arm so that it was pressed against your torso.

Dr. Lee addressed you.

“You know the drill,” he began, but you shook your head.

“Come on,” you said. “There has to be an exception we can use here, I don’t…”

“Absolutely not,” he shook his head.

“What?” Tommy asked. “What’s happening?”

“You’ll need to stay in holding overnight,” the guy from the front desk said. He was watching you, not looking at Joel and Tommy at all.

“That’s stupid,” you said. “They can stay with me, if anything got missed…”

“You know we can’t do that,” Lee said. “It’s too dangerous, if there was a false negative read on the infection scanner you’d be dead.”

“Please.”

“It’s one night,” Lee said. “Elias would have my ass if he ever found out I let new intakes go home with you and I like being alive, thank you very much.”

“It’s one night,” the front desk guy crossed his arms, looking at you. Joel wanted to snap him in half.

“I’ll set you as their orientation liaison,” Lee said gently. “I’ll let the school know you won’t be in tomorrow. You can get them at 6 a.m.”

“No,” Joel growled.

“This isn’t the wild west, Mr. Miller,” Lee said. “There are ways things are done here. Best to start adjusting now. We’re going to take you back into holding…”

“Can I get just two minutes?” You cut him off. “Please?”

Lee looked between you and Joel.

“Andrew stays too,” he said, leaving the room. The man from the front desk crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at Joel. You didn’t seem to notice, instead just throwing your arms around Joel’s neck. Joel pulled you against him.

“I’ll be back first thing in the morning,” you breathed in his ear. “I promise, I’ll be right back, I love you so much, Joel.”

It was like his heart cracked. No one had said that to him in so long. His chest got tight.

“I’ll be here, Baby,” he said softly. “Not going anywhere.”

Dr. Lee came back and led Joel and Tommy out of the room, Andrew’s hand firmly on your shoulder as you watched them go. Joel felt sick, you being far away from him again. He focused on getting through to the morning. That’s all. He’d been away from you for more than five years, he could do one night. He was sure of it. Just one night.

He couldn’t.

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #hbo the last of us

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pawschamp · 1 year

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VOL 8#2/CH35: “double team” appreciation

i’m a huge fan of the way nightow encapsulates a certain thematic or specified topic in each chapter, almost making each chapter its own arc with the way a character can change in just a few pages. as an example to appreciate this, i’m using chapter 35 aka “wolfwood doesn’t shoot” chapter aka one of my favorite chapters in the entire series.

warning, this is not a thought out essay, this is just the insane ramblings of a guy that likes trigun and wolfwood. there will be tangents, there will be derails, but overall, it’s a 4k insight into where my mind goes when i read these chapters.

TW WARNING: wolfwood’s backstory pictured (child experimentation, child harm), blood, death

SPOILERS WARNING: mentions of vol 8 events

for consistency sake, i’ll be using overhaul’s translation.

this chapter throws us into the familiar perspective of wolfwood. the readers have been in his shoes, we’re made to understand his thoughts since the very beginning of maximum, considering max started from his perspective. his ordeal and his internal struggle was made clear since the leonef arc, but this chapter serves as a checkpoint of where he is now, paralleling almost to chapter 11 where it had began with wolfwood’s dream + where his internal conflict were first laid bare to readers.

it’s also good to note that this chapter is in vol 6, the vol that takes place after the midvalley/hopper arc. this entire volume consists the internal dialogue of essential characters and where they stand with vash; the first chapter being meryl, then wolfwood, legato, knives, milly (a bit of vash), and then an open ended one, but it leads into vash’s flashback -- obviously, each chapter progresses the story itself too, but the main focus tends to be the thoughts of these characters. i really appreciate nightow writing an immensely thoughts driven and relatively quiet (in terms of action) volume after the heavily action packed previous volume. he does this well in the chapters themselves, knowing when to lead the reader into quiet so we can all feel the scene much more intimately. these chapters become more emotional because we’re settled with each character individually, we lean into their fears, their worry and concerns. the fact we get so little of vash and his thoughts in these chapters aside from the flashback makes him feel distant and lonelier (which, considering his immense guilt of remembering july, it feels purposeful.)

vol 10 will always be my favorite vol but vol 6 is certainly up there... i think it was masterfully put together and nightow’s character writing is one of my favorite parts of trigun. the introspection is such a core part of trigun itself alongside the action and i just appreciate the overall pacing of it and how it eventually leads into vol 7 where we return to vash, to the conflict between the brothers, and then into the harrowing 7 months of destruction on no man’s land where the kind of peacefulness that settled in vol 6 no longer exists for a long time in the future chapters.

anyway, to the chapter now

from the dream alone, we can tell there’s a progression of wolfwood’s risk taking heart beginning to open. from all the time he’s spent with vash and what he’s witness after the leonef arc, he’s starting to change internally, he’s no longer the same as he was at the beginning of trigun. the dream provides a what-if situation, where wolfwood kills off the eye of michael (vague individual, but probably chapel again?), freeing the children.

side note, but it’s particularly sad to me he says “i can never come back, but at least y’all will be safe now.” in an universe where a happy ending could be provided for the orphanage, there still wouldn’t be a happy ending for wolfwood. he can free the orphanage but even the destruction of the eye of michael wouldn’t free him from the man he’s grown into and it’s telling of just how little he believes he deserves to go/have a home.

but the dream then panels to knives and his fear of someone/something other than himself is shown. as i mentioned earlier about how this parallels to chapter 11, in that dream, it showed how wolfwood can’t return to the kids because of the blood that stains his hands, a dream he gets after having killed rai-dei and confronted by vash about his role.

he still feels this way considering his mentioned thought of “can’t return” anymore, but the dream shifts focus to knives because the threat of him looms closer now more than before after having witness vash transform in the previous arc -- and it’s clear him being a first hand witness has influenced his fears considering knives is using his ability within the dream.

overall, wolfwood has sooo much on his mind at this point; he saw vash transform, he came face to face with the rest of the gung-hos, met the strongest gung-ho, seen the price of betrayal with his own eyes (though b/c it was carried out by legato, it doesn’t necessarily hold the same weight)... he’s also done his fair share of trying to get others away from danger, notably when he speaks to meryl in the previous chapter, and tries to ward her away now that she’s seen first hand of vash’s strength, seen below from the chapter right before this. he’s relatively passive in his interactions with meryl so it’s insane how his behavior in ch 35 contrasts with this.

kind of a side note but i’ve always enjoyed this interaction between wolfwood and meryl. this is the first time they actually got to converse and he’s actively reading her and giving her advice; it’s advice he’d give to any average citizen, he’s always been an advocate for regular folks to turn their back so long it can keep them safe, but his advice here definitely felt a little personal considering how he’s gotten to known milly and he Knows for certain that this just isn’t the environment for her. the way he says “This isn’t the place for that cute partner of yers” as a reason to push Meryl to turn away always gets to me, because while there may be an implication for meryl to hightail out of there to protect herself, the discussion ends at wolfwood telling meryl to back out for milly. being with milly in the previous arc, he knows the lengths and sort of reckless, self sacrificial nature that milly has; she who refused to back out constantly, even after having expressed she was terrified, she still stayed, so wolfwood knows that if meryl leaves, then milly would too. he prods meryl, reminds her there’s another life aside from her own she’d be risking if she stayed.

after he wakes up and leaves the bar, he runs into zazie who just drops off a message from knives, as though to taunt him any further lmfao... it’s relevant that zazie shows up here considering wolfwood’s recent meeting with the rest of the gung-hos. zazie in particular is a complacent neutral party amidst the conflict, willing to see things through for knives / legato as long as the worms can be left alone.

one of the funniest lines ever to be delivered to wolfwood, “You’re a scary one. Almost like Bluesummers.” i laugh every time i see it.

but anyway, as stated by wolfwood, he recognizes that the point in conflict has reached far enough that what he does doesn’t necessarily matter anymore. sure, he’ll still keep to his job, but vash is going to end up at knives doorstep no matter what, especially with his recent recollection of july. wolfwood recognizes the minor part he plays, he recognizes how small he is amidst the overarching battle between the twins. i think this realization influences his dream too, being that he had rebelled and felt hope that the orphanage would be left alone, but still, the orphanage can’t avoid the fate that would fall on humanity as a whole. regardless, they would be caught up in what knives does.

then we get to this insane flashback, this Gorgeously illustrated first meeting between wolfwood and knives that haunts me every day of my life. i just want to appreciate this page for a minute, art wise... the tubes forming the composition throughout the panels, trapping wolfwood, encaging him despite him being the one standing over knives. i like how that’s emphasized with the overlap on the top panels and the gun he holds is so small in the bottom right panel. in the bottom left panel, it’s a perspective shot from wolfwood’s eyes, the gun trained onto knives chest (i think compositionally, it just looks cooler which is potentially why it isn’t aimed at knives’ head, but i can also think wolfwood might’ve lost the resolved to kill knives already from fear alone and thus, his gun was lowered.)

also i feel like not only did knives’ presence halt wolfwood but the medical equipment strung to knives might’ve triggered a terrible memory for wolfwood too, considering his experimentation.

above is from ch. 50.

but the focus of this flashback is in knives’ otherworldliness and how despite wolfwood managing to get so far to be face to face with knives, he could not pull the trigger from fear alone. and wolfwood has this humane reaction every time he comes close to death which is a resurgence of a will to live; he feels it in this moment with knives, he feels death closing in on him despite him being the one with the trigger at his finger and knives against the ground.

above from chapter 6.

from the knives flashback, we can see the lack of choice that wolfwood had at that moment. the lack of choice in the mission given to him, the lack of choice in being able to shoot at all. it solidified him into the position where he is today and quelled the rebellion he dreamt of.

from his nightmares to the meeting with zazie to this flashback, remembering knives and his presence and comparing that fear to vash, him remembering the last time he felt that fear from vash at all... although he’s always known vash to be an “other” from humans, when faced with the actuality of it, he starts to think more on their differences and kind of distant himself mentally from vash? by calling him a monster and “the one who can save humankind”, honing in on his inhumane side. he knows vash, but wolfwood is thinking from the memories of knives, he’s thinking from his feelings of fear in that moment with vash, and he probably feels so small, not capable of anything beyond doing his job. as a reminder, this is what he thinks during that scene, similar feelings to how he felt with knives imo although vash’s anger is transformed into outer and inner, almost like he’s trying to kill that anger he holds to upkeep his resolve to not kill.

and in the moment of deep pondering, with brilliant timing, vash calls out to him.

no matter how many times i see this page, i explode with so much emotion. to stay on topic, this panel of vash sitting leisurely on top of a rooftop has a lot of elements to it. the moon he blew a hole into shown right behind him, an ever present reminder of his destructive powers which wolfwood, no doubt, is remembering it distinctively in this moment. but i loooove love how this page contrasts the one with knives. this scene following is just parallels to wolfwood's memory of knives and while in his confrontation of knives, wolfwood was trapped in both a physical and internal sense. the positions being different too, where wolfwood hovered over knives but still remained below in a hierarchical sense while now, vash is above him physically and wolfwood looks up towards him. considering wolfwood's thoughts so far, the positioning is reflective of that. but considering their space, the openness, outside, the expansive sky behind vash alongside the moon, there's so much freedom in where they're both standing. wolfwood is constrained beneath the thoughts he has, his worries, but he has freedom to move around vash and yet wolfwood chooses to go up to meet him.

now i can derail and go a little insane over their expressions here, IDK. im VERY vw-pilled, so excuse me, but VASH'S LOOK TO WOLFWOOD?? "You're a bit of a night owl, huh?" it’s just a plain observation really, the casual nature in how he converses with wolfwood, something he’d recognize over the course of their journey... this also isn’t the ONLY time they’ve met under the moon, they did so in multiple bullets too. gay ass moon couple... whatever... i’ve also seen people note that vash is fake smiling here and perhaps. some days, i can believe that because he is just so goddamn sad during this time, but i also like to think it’s genuine. maybe prior to seeing wolfwood, he was neutrally observing the on going events in the town, but the moment he saw wolfwood strolling about in deep thought, he’s just like “oh, wolfwood! :]” Just being a little happy to not be alone for the night.

it’s a small detail, but i like how nightow incorporates these side missions into the chapter’s arc and the overall theme in little ways. because it’s been these yin-yang brothers that’s been making trouble since the last chapter and in this moment, vash watching these two brothers bringing down mayhem on a peaceful town.

alongside this page, we see wolfwood’s steady approach, vash’s back turned to him as they chitchat before wolfwood quietly

positioned the same way as before, the gun held to a twin that’s positioned lower and wolfwood looks down.

aside from how beautiful he is, i like how wolfwood holds a resolute gaze. he probably feels he has the upper hand, Knows it in some way because vash is seemingly defenseless. if he wanted to, he can shoot.

meanwhile, vash just Looks tired. not necessarily sorrowful, to me, he just looks exhausted. from the many clues later in this chapter, i think the reader can clue in that vash definitely knew wolfwood pointed a gun at him. whether it’s sorrow, a sense of betrayal, or nonchalance is unclear. i think vash might’ve knew wolfwood wouldn’t pull the trigger and if he had, i think vash would’ve felt resigned to it. vash understands the reason why wolfwood kills; in all his instances of killing, it’s been for the sole purpose to protect. when he killed rai-dei, it was to protect vash. when he killed gray, he was doing his part in protecting vash’s home which vash had entrusted to him. there’s tons of thoughts that goes through wolfwood’s head when he does kill and what it means to him personally, but to vash, wolfwood has never killed for a selfish reason so when wolfwood points a gun at him, if he has intentions to kill, there would be a reason that vash understands considering his own beliefs on protecting humanity. i think at the end of it though, he knew wolfwood wouldn’t shoot him.

and wolfwood doesn’t pull the trigger. his hand doesn’t shake, there are no sweat marks on his face, he’s not afraid at all. with a soundless mind, he decides not to shoot. it’s important that we get wolfwood’s thoughts because it’s not as if he has any particular doubts in his own abilities. to wolfwood, if he put a bullet through vash’s head, he may die, he may be immobilized to be easier to kill, etc etc but ultimately, he chooses not to. just prior to meeting vash, he was already riddled with the memory of his rebellions amounting to nothing, so if he had “killed” vash (just like how he had “killed” chapel before), he’d still have to face knives and he’s already experienced once what going against knives was like. he can’t do it, wolfwood wouldn’t be able to kill knives and there would be nothing to ultimately gain from killing vash.

naturally, i think we can also conclude the “reasonable” reasons aren’t the only things keeping him from shooting vash. it’ll be mentioned later, but what wolfwood thinks vs what he does can be fundamentally different because sometimes, wolfwood Just isn’t fully aware of how he acts, doesn’t know it. i think that’s part of the reason we don’t get his thoughts here when he lowers his gun, because he doesn’t know, he doesn’t understand why he can’t shoot vash either. if i had to reason it, it would be what i said before and that’s how i view how wolfwood might reason it, but that isn’t all of it. <-- this thought will be continued later.

i always found it funny how vash looks back because i’m sure he sensed something was weird about how quiet wolfwood was and how nothing was happened, so he just looks at him like “???”

wolfwood hits him with the reminder again of what to keep his focus on, as he usually does, and it’s ironic of him to say “It’ll be pointless if ya get yerself killed before ya meet him.”, having pointed a gun at him literally 2 seconds ago.

anyway, as the story progresses, the yin-yang brothers has started to blow shit up and vash, ever so involved, runs after to stop them. wolfwood, diligent, runs after vash.

i don’t have a lot to note but i like how vash is called a pretty boy. he is the prettiest boy. the page after this, they basically try to run him over, but vash sidesteps just in time to avoid that and turns towards the car to shoot at them. turns out though, the brother hopped off the car and appeared behind to hurl these sharp thingies at vash’s vulnerable back. please read the next 3 beautiful pages carefully

this sequence is just So well done. it’s very simple to bring back the hard ass table that wolfwood had woken up on and smacked his hand hard against at the start of this chapter, a purposefully strong table made to withstand drunkards... but it was pulled into the fight, to cover that split second to defend vash before wolfwood himself makes it to him. it’s important to note that vash doesn’t even look at wolfwood here. he’s not the least surprised, he’s still keeping his eyes directly on the tank. he does briefly look at the enemy behind him on the previous page for one panel, but i think that glance may have been targeted at the table wolfwood threw. i say this because vash moves fast and if he had wanted to target the yinyang brother behind him, he would’ve shot him already.

the both of them focus on the targets they’re aiming at. vash with his gun can’t break the armor of the tank and wolfwood’s punisher isn’t made for a single target unless he wanted to pulverized the dude with bullets and his aim won’t be precise with the punisher either. they’re mainly talking to themselves on this page, but the fact they don’t even say anything to each other, only giving a single glance before...

changing positions immediately -- understanding where the other had lacked in, understanding what they themselves would be capable of doing and what the other could not... like.... wolfwood quickly changing the punisher’s form to activate the torpedo to take care of the armored up tank and vash quickly getting aim on the yinyang brother the moment he turns around. in just fighting together, it communicated everything we needed to know about their teamwork. and taking into consideration how they’ve been fighting alone for their entire lives only to flawlessly come together as a team despite that... they’ve developed a trust on each other, a trust i think vash is relatively aware of at this point, but wolfwood hadn’t realized it.

i’m saying that because of his expression here lmfao

i think wolfwood can be pretty slow on realizing things for himself. i think for vash, he’s already built a recognition that wolfwood was going to be following him, that wolfwood would be there to protect his back, and i think that feeling stems from personal trust, considering how often wolfwood has done that for him already and i think a bit of that is also vash being aware that wolfwood has a job he’s upkeeping to protect/keep an eye on vash, so he’d expect wolfwood to upkeep that too.

on wolfwood’s end, he turns back to vash immediately, realizing that he had left his own back unattended. wolfwood knows vash, he understands the kind of person he is, but he was still anxious because of all the thoughts he held up throughout this chapter. i don’t think wolfwood’s trust in vash was purposeful prior this chapter and really, there wasn’t any particular scene that showed him trusting vash outright because wolfwood has always moved pretty independently throughout the arcs. it tended to be vash putting his faith in wolfwood instead while wolfwood himself was still trying to figure out where he stood with vash. but through battle, through the nonverbal communication and through instincts, i think that provides a lot of context of how his trust is ingrained instinctually and how despite what he states, what he thinks for himself, he internally already knows otherwise that he would never be able to harm vash, that he has already deeply sided with him.

when the fight is over, vash immediately disarms himself, thanks wolfwood, and his back is once again bare, turned towards wolfwood, vulnerable and full of trust. it’s intentional in how vash shows his trust towards wolfwood and wolfwood, processing, realizing that in full... how despite all of his worries, his fears, pondering about how this monster was going to save humanity, he’s ultimately just looking back at someone who’s grown so close to him. and i think this page is wolfwood coming to realize what his relationship with vash has become. overall, this chapter just feels like the moment when wolfwood has come to be honest and frank with himself on where his allegiance lies. in the previous arc, midvalley came at him constantly about who he was betraying and i think wolfwood was like “what the fuck is he talking about” for a good portion of it up until this chapter.

a lot of what wolfwood had to tackle that previous arc was where he stood in the crossfire. being a gung-ho after having killed “chapel” and stolen his spot which in turn led him to working under knives directly which led him to become vash’s guide, merely a job to be his guide until it no longer was just a job. he has a lot in common with midvalley, both being assassins, both having a heart that lied elsewhere and not in line with knives or legato. they both acted out, betrayed before, and midvalley himself mentioned how the twins were beyond them, higher beings while they were mere insects, or something along those lines... which wolfwood basically echoes similar sentiments here. when midvalley died, he most likely saw a reflection of himself. when he comes before midvalley’s grave, he thinks on that, the “can’t make a stand, even with those fangs of yours”, thinking of betrayal that comes about in his dreams. he knows for certainty that he wants to protect the orphanage; beyond that, i don’t think wolfwood believed he sided with anyone at the beginning of chapter 35. it’s a realization he makes steadily throughout the course of it and only when he’s back to back with vash does he realize he’s already sided with him whether he wanted to or not.

the chapters in vol 6, from all these different perspectives, they all end up concluding something new about vash, something they realize from what they’ve observed of vash in the previous arc and in person. meryl recognizes that vash’s fears and shame won’t stop him from shooting his gun. legato recognizing the significance of if vash could collect all the coins that becomes prevalent in chapter 80s. knives realizing that vash is already in the process of dying due to the black hair. milly seeing vash’s muddled up expression, the smiling facade he holds automatically when he doesn’t know what to do and gets a glimpse into the loneliness he feels.

the significance of wolfwood coming to terms with his feelings of vash makes his actions in vol 8 all the more meaningful and comprehendible. granted, i think throughout the previous chapters, we can all sense this sort of change in wolfwood and how much he cares about vash and all that... but i think the trust that wolfwood solidifies in vash goes beyond personal sentiments. after all, i think wolfwood having saved vash in vol 8 is because he trusted vash would be capable of saving humanity and that trust was enough for him to risk his own life... despite being afraid of dying, despite not being Ready to die, despite his own personal doubts and uncertainties and the echo of rebellions falling into ruins, he still went forth to save vash for the sake of humanity and he trusts that vash, despite his lonesome for those 7 months, would be resolute enough to stop knives. --> i’m saying “for the sake of humanity” because that’s just relevant with his thoughts in this chapter. him freeing vash has multitudes of layers that’s both personal and selfless to the fault, but that’s for another post.

and the final light hearted page in this chapter, where they chit chat a bit casually. i feel like every time we see wolfwood in his off time, he’s always eating something/discussing eating, which is kind of cute. he’s on top of his meals!! and of course, one of the best panels for millymeryl, the utter destruction and devastation in that house and meryl looking like she definitely Did not sleep from the chaos (and probably due to her own nightmares too) while milly is refreshed... they’re the cutest ever.

anyway, that was the last page so that means this chapter is finished! the way this chapter went full circle in regards to wolfwood’s thoughts, how all of his worries eventually led to a resolution to his feelings about vash... i think wolfwood’s point of view is always a gift to explore because his thoughts sometimes conflict to the resolution he comes to, especially when it comes to vash. wolfwood never had a presence like vash in his life, never known someone so different but still so similar to him. it’s all very new, so i think wolfwood’s circling thoughts, confusion, and the eventual choices he make when it comes to vash is a precious insight that i’m Very grateful towards nightow for.

i don’t know how to conclude this, but that’s all i have to observe! i hope it’s understandable what i mean when i say this chapter feels like an arc of itself and yet, it’s still so perfectly entwine with the rest of the plot. wolfwood’s thoughts here are not foreign, his development doesn’t come from nothing; it’s all a steady progression and i think it’s valuable for all the decisions he ultimately makes in the future chapters.

#trigun #trigun analysis #trigun meta #???#trigun maximum #also i didn't know where to put this thought but the title of this chapter is double team #double team can signify to vash and wolfwood's teamwork #it can also signify to wolfwood's troublesome allegiance to both knives and vash #anyway know that im also pulling shit out of my ass sometimes because i think TOO much and too deeply lmfao #i also might not be thinking enough and am wrong about things but WHATEVER!! this is just my view #some of these might just be assumptions and are kind of insane conclusions but i hope - above all else - that it's Comprehensible.#it's bene a year since i wrote something this long lmfao but this is just a soft appreciation of this chapter #if possible i would this for the entire manga but i Don't think i have that kind of time

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bucketsofmonsters · 2 years

Text

The Witch’s Apprentice - Part 2

cw: demon summoning, nightmares, prolonged isolation, bugs, more tags will be added as the story continues

male demon x afab reader

Word count: ~4k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

He didn’t show up in another dream after that night.

You kept waiting for it to happen. It felt like an inevitability. No matter how many times you checked your books, you couldn’t find what you’d done wrong in your warding so you most definitely hadn’t fixed the problem.

The only way to properly fix it at this point would be to ask Eden and that was something you weren’t willing to do. Any trust you’d gained with her would be lost. You couldn’t mess it up. Not now, not when she’d just begun involving you in her work.

The longer you went without hearing from the demon the more nervous you got. Day after day you heard nothing, not even in a summoning with Eden. Even that would be a blessing, at least then you’d be able to get eyes on him, try and get a read on him.

She refused, insisting she was busy with things she couldn’t tell you about. The newfound openness that had come with you being involved in the summonings fell away and once again you were being excluded from her work entirely.

Impulsive. That’s what Eden had called each and every one of your attempts to do magic on your own, to figure it out without her guidance. Was she right? Probably.

Did you still wait until she left for a day to snatch the summoning book and face the source of your anxiety head on?

Absolutely.

You double and triple checked the books before you did anything. That had been driven into you, Eden had made your mistakes clear to you enough times to prove you didn’t have the luxury of confidence.

Most of it wasn’t even in your hands, the summoning circle left from old visits and most of the materials needed for the summoning still sitting together on the table. You had no idea what Eden was really doing with Lucien, what the trances were for or what deals she’d made, but the summoning part was fairly simple.

The book sat on the floor in front of you but you didn’t need it, the words long since memorized.

The second the air shifted it was filled with the demon’s sudden yelling. “One week! One week of not having to incessantly be pulled here and you couldn’t even…” The anger drained from his face the second he saw you. “You’re not your witch.”

“‘She’s not my witch.” You felt more sensitive about his wording while you were sitting here, disobeying her.

He seemed amused by the rebuttal. “Then who’s witch is she?”

“Her own, I suppose.”

“You could always tell me her name. Then I wouldn’t have to call her anyone’s witch.”

“Do we have to do this every time?” you asked with a sigh. Surely he must know that you wouldn’t fall for it, although you supposed you couldn’t fault him for trying.

With the realization that you wouldn’t budge on the name issue, at least for now, he shifted topics. “She doesn’t know you’re here.” It wasn’t a question but an observation, and an apt one at that.

You’d hoped he wouldn’t realize, would just assume she let you do what you wanted around here. The realization gave him another bargaining chip, a piece of information he could use to hurt you. You’d have to brace yourself for him to reveal it next time Eden summoned him.

But the damage had already been done, you might as well ask what you were here to ask.

“Why did you show up in my dream?”

“Aw, are you dreaming about me? I must have left quite the impression. What kind of dream was it? I hope it was a fun one.”

You tried once more, more forceful this time. “You showed up in my dream.”

He rolled his eyes as you refused to play. “I saw a chance and I took it. It’s not my fault you can’t ward yourself.”

You wanted to ask if you’d fixed the problem as you’d redone everything, if your warding was all good and sorted out now despite not finding the real issue but you knew he’d lie about it regardless. There was no point in it.

As you tried to find something useful to ask him, he helpfully chimed in, “I’m not telling you anything.”

You sighed. This confrontation was going just how you expected it to. “Yeah, I know.”

“Then why am I here?”

You shrugged.

He wasn’t willing to let go of it that easily. “What do you want from me?”

“Do I have to want something from you?”

“All humans do.”

Oh. You should probably figure that out. You took a mental note to think on it later.

“I’ll get back to you on that,” you promised him, although you weren’t entirely sure when. You certainly couldn’t say anything in front of Eden and you supposed you had no real reason to summon him again.

If you were honest with yourself, you had no real reason to summon him the first time. You knew how this would play out. And yet here he was, looming over you whilst being entirely unhelpful.

His head was tilted as he evaluated you. “If you don’t want anything from me, what should I do? I mean, I’m sure I can come up with something but history indicates you might not follow through on my ideas.”

His assumption was right. Whatever trickery he might be inclined to try would fall on deaf ears.

The problem was, you didn’t have anything better to say. You probably should have had a game plan for all of this. Maybe ‘impulsive’ wasn’t that far off.

At a loss for words, you uttered the only ones you had on hand. He rolled his eyes as the words of dismissal started to leave you

“Running away so quickly?”

His attempt to goad you did nothing to stop your momentum, running through the spell that you had memorized front to back.

When you looked up, he was gone, leaving behind an empty summoning circle on the floor.

You’d done it on your own and nothing happened. He hadn’t killed you or tricked you or broken free, he’d just stood there and talked to you.

It felt like a minor miracle. It had taken years to get Eden to let you sit silently in the room while she summoned something and you’d just done it on your own without a hitch.

You wanted to tell her. Well, to tell someone, but you had no one else to tell.

Other than Lucien, you supposed, but somehow you imagined that summoning him again just to get excited about how you’d summoned him the first time might not go over well.

Three days. That’s how long it took you to give in.

You’d done it once, proven to yourself you could summon him safely, and that opened the door to do it again. You no longer had the pretenses of before where you could tell yourself it was just to gather information on how he’d invaded your dreams but that could only stop you for so long.

You were a lonely person. You’d always been to some extent, but being stuck in this cabin certainly hadn’t helped matters.

You had Eden. For that you were eternally grateful. And for a long time that had been enough.

Demons were dangerous. That fact had been drilled into your head. You could never tell them your name or break the summoning circle or trust them with anything, but what you hadn’t anticipated was that they could make for shockingly good company.

Or maybe any company would feel like good company right about now. You weren’t sure how to tell.

You supposed you did want something from him, he was right. Companionship, not being alone for a while, call it whatever you wanted. It was disingenuous to claim you were summoning him for no reason and he’d realized it faster than you had.

Everyone had a reason. Everyone had something they wanted.

Disobeying Eden was just as difficult the second time around.

When Lucien arrived this time, he wasn’t angry. His gaze fell immediately to your little spot on the floor, not Eden’s trance circle, and you knew he was coming to expect you.

“Well, you’re nothing if not persistent.” He spoke with a laugh in his voice, ever amused by your antics.

“Thank you?”

“You're welcome.”

You had plenty of things that you could have said. You’d prepared a little better this time, with backup ideas to cover you so you wouldn’t have to send him away the second he started to question you.

Instead, you busied yourself, putting a kettle on the stove and cleaning off the counter in the room as Lucien stared on in bewilderment.

“Are you alright?” he asked as you rushed about. While it was far from concerned, it was the most genuine you’d heard him be.

“Do you care?”

“I wouldn’t normally but I can’t help but wonder what you’re up to.”

“I’m making tea.”

His confusion seemed to override the urge to be antagonistic and he quietly watched you rush about. As you brewed two mugs full of tea, you walked back over to the summoning circle and held one out for him.

He eyed the mug distrustfully. “What is it?”

“It’s for you, it’s tea!”

“I know what tea is, what did you put in it? Is there rosemary in here? Your witch loves the stuff, I can still smell it everywhere.”

Rosemary was toxic to demons. When Eden was between summoning sessions, she'd have you burn some throughout the house to ward off any unwanted entities. In times like these when she was working with the creatures and couldn’t use it without harming them, you tended to it in the garden until she needed it next.

You shook your head adamantly. “It’s bad etiquette to poison a guest. Besides, if I wanted to, I could just throw some rosemary at you. It’s not like you could go anywhere.”

“Fair enough.” A sly look crossed his face as he incredulously asked, “And you’re just going to hand it to me? Well, I’m not going to stop you.”

You couldn't help but be a little peeved at the comment. Surely eventually he would stop wildly underestimating you. “You can’t do anything as long as the summoning circle stays intact, which it is. I’m not a complete fool. Now do you want the tea or not?”

You held the mug out, waiting a moment for his response.

He finally took it, the mug looking quite silly as it was dwarfed in his hands.

“Sorry,” you said, scrunching up your nose at the sight. “We don’t have any bigger mugs.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive.”

He took a sip of the tea and you fought back a laugh at the sight of it.

He looked down at the mug with a furrowed brow. “Odd little concoction you’ve got here. So, as long as you seem averse to asking anything of me, I might as well ask. Why are you working for the witch?”

“Why wouldn’t I? She’s brilliant, she’s my best friend, she saved my life, I owe her everything. I’m just lucky she’s willing to teach me.”

“You owe her something? Has she trapped you here, what do you owe her?” He seemed eager to jump to that conclusion.

Where could he be getting that from? “No, of course not! She wouldn’t do that.”

“She’s done it to me.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, she must have a reason.”

“I know. Everyone wants something, I told you that already. But I already know what she wants from me, what do you want from her?”

“What?” You’d expected him to prod further for your motivation, maybe ask once more why Eden even kept you around, but not that. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, something’s gotta be keeping you here. I don’t buy that it's you learning magic, you had to sneak off to be allowed to do anything, she isn’t teaching you shit.”

“Hey, she’s a great teacher. And I just want to help as much as I can.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t take you for a liar.”

“I’m not lying! That’s all I want from her, to help, her friendship, some company. I think that’s why I summoned you too, is it really that unbelievable?”

“You summoned me to help me? If so, you're doing a shit job of it.”

“No, for the company.”

He scoffed. “Noone needs company that badly. Try again.”

“How would you know?”

“What?”

“The people who need company have no one to tell about it so how would you know? There are probably plenty of people like me out there who wouldn’t mind a chat with you.”

“They can just go to a bar then, strike up a conversation with someone. The demon summoning seems like overkill to me,” he noted. “You could do the same. I don’t blame you for wanting to talk to someone other than your damn witch but if you want company so badly just go to town, I’m sure someone would be willing to humor you.”

That confused you. “You know I can’t do that. I can’t leave the cabin, the forest won’t let me. You saw, remember? When you broke into my head.”

“That was a nightmare. You can walk through the woods.”

“I told you it wasn’t a nightmare, it’s the woods laying claim to me. They tried to swallow me up before, she saved me. This place is the only place that’s safe from it.”

“I’ve been in these woods, they’re not like that.”

“Maybe not for you.”

“So you are trapped here?”

You couldn’t understand why he didn’t seem to be getting it. “I’m protected here. This is my safe haven.”

“When was the last time you left? Hell, when was the last time you spoke to anyone other than your witch?”

You weren’t entirely certain, trying to quickly count the number of winters you’d seen while you’d been here. “Years ago, definitely. Probably… six or seven by now, I’d wager.”

His eyes lit up as an opportunity presented itself, his voice shifting into the more practiced one you’d heard before, designed to be convincing. “I could get you out of here. Come on, make a deal with me. Don’t you miss society? Miss talking to people?”

You immediately started the banishing spell, not wanting to have this conversation. You knew you wouldn’t be able to make him drop the issue, your talk was over.

“No, stop it, stop doing that,” he hissed at you. “Shut up!”

You didn’t let his protests deter you, barrelling through the rest of the spell.

Without so much as a warning he vanished, leaving behind empty air and a mug that promptly smashed into the ground with nothing left to hold it up.

You rushed to clean up the mess. The shards of ceramic and tea couldn’t break the summoning circle, that couldn’t be done without intention from someone not trapped in it, but they most certainly could alert Eden to your behavioral misstep.

When Eden got home, you were sweeping the last of the jagged shards into a dustpan.

“What happened?” she asked. “Are you alright?”

You waved away her concern. “I just dropped a mug, nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing important got damaged?”

“Nope.”

“Good. You should be more careful.”

With a final glance at the mess, she took the basket of things she’d gathered from wherever she’d been. She never told you where she went, it was always just ‘out.’

It felt more like a small mercy than anything. You weren’t sure you could stomach hearing about her trips to town. You preferred it this way, she just went out and returned with baskets full of things she’d never tell you about.

Days passed and she didn’t bring up the incident again.

You were out in your garden, the little fenced in piece of nature that you could safely access. It wasn’t very big, a slice of land pressed up against the side of the house, but you spent much of your time out there.

The garden was the only thing you had any real control over. Eden rarely came out here, you kept all the herbs inside well-stocked enough that she never had to.

It was also a rare subject at which you excelled. Your little sliver of land was thriving, keeping every single plant Eden brought for you to take care of alive and well.

You were pruning weeds when you found a little praying mantis sitting under some lavender.

Its hooked arms were raised defensively, clearly positioning to strike if you got any closer.

“You gotta go bud,” you said, keeping your voice low so as not to spook it any further. “You’re gonna eat all the bees and we can’t have that.”

It seemed unconvinced.

He seemed perfectly polite but you didn’t have a pest problem in your garden and you knew from experience it would hunt down any pollinators who came nearby.

“You don’t belong in here, if you don’t leave I’m going to have to evict you and neither of us want that.”

Your attempt at negotiation fell on deaf ears so instead you picked up a watering can, shaking it upside down to make sure it was empty before trying to figure out how best to scoop the aggressive little thing up.

The sound of Eden saying something drifted through the wall of the cabin and your head perked up.

“You’ve escaped this time, but you better not be here when I get back.” You gave your newfound enemy one last look and left him to consider your warning as you brushed the dirt off your clothes so you could head inside and see what Eden wanted.

The second you walked into the room you knew exactly what she’d been saying. That became obvious when you locked eyes with the last person you wanted to see.

As you stared down Lucien, eyes wide, all those repercussions of summoning him alone felt a lot more threatening than they had when the two of you were chatting over tea.

Eden was sitting on the floor looking up at him and you winced, cursing the fact that she wasn’t in a trace that would let you slip out of the room unnoticed.

“Are you even paying attention?” she asked him as he stared right over her head.

He was entirely ignoring Eden’s question, his gaze locked onto you. “I was wondering where you’d run off to, the witch had lost her shadow.”

Eden’s head jerked around and you shrunk in on yourself, her eyes burning into your skin worse than Lucien’s did.

Even with her back to him, he seemed to be able to sense her anger. “What’s wrong,” he prodded. “That’s what you have them do anyways, isn’t it? Quietly observe?”

She muttered the dismissal spell under her breath, forgetting whatever work she’d been up to in favor of glaring daggers at you.

She didn’t even check to see if he was gone before she stood up and started pacing over to you.

For a moment, you weren’t even nervous, caught up in Lucien’s words. He hadn’t given you away or gotten you in trouble, instead inexplicably covering for you. You couldn’t make sense of it, practically wouldn’t believe it if it had just happened.

The lack of nervousness ended the second Eden started talking.

“You cannot come in unannounced like that,” she snapped. “You’re lucky I had things under control. You could have put us both at risk.”

“I’m so sorry.” You weren’t sure your voice reached her, your words coming out as a squeak more than as an intelligible thought.

She seemed to understand the gist of it at the very least.

“You should be!” She rubbed her temples, taking a deep breath as she considered her next words. “I’m just trying to keep you safe. I can’t do that if you don’t listen, you know that.”

“I know, I really am sorry.”

She took your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Okay. Don’t let it happen again.”

“I won’t.”

She chuckled. “Well, you saw your first demon. Not ideal circumstances but what did you think?”

“Very scary,” you said, hoping that was what she wanted to hear.

“They certainly are. Unpleasant creatures, through and through.”

You nodded, hoping she couldn’t see the apprehension on your face. If only seeing him was the worst of your transgressions.

#terato #demon x reader #demon x human #monster boyfriend #monster bf #monster x human #monster x reader #demon #the witch's apprentice #sometimes I worry I give my reader characters too much personality lol #I can’t help it sorry guys #take it or leave it #The next chapter things really get going #the setup era is ending #Also the rating on this one will be changing soon ;)

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ghostssweetgirl · 10 months

Text

Ménage à trois simon ghost riley x y/n - mff threesome

A/N- I haven't seen anyone else do this so I want to give it a shot... bc lorddd it's been on my mind for some time, but I don't know how some people will take it lol (😳) it's hot to me though 🫢but it's very out of character (last time I wrote something f x f someone got offended so i'm just saying please don't get offended like that is NOT my intention AT ALL lol idk what to say but i understand if this is not something you personally like i'm just going ahead and clearing this up before someone comments something)

CW: mff threesome, bisexual reader, established relationship, slight cuckolding? i guess? , dom Ghost, oral (m receiving, f receiving + giving), rough sex, degrading & praising, double facial ;)

WC: 4k~

It wasn't that you needed to spice it up in the bedroom with Simon, he was��plenty for you and you for him; catering to each kink you were exploring and every fantasy you wanted to try out, but there was just this one you couldn't get rid of in the back of your head, and at first, you hadn't planned on saying anything about it, or even following through with it. Simon would do anything for you though, anything that makes his princess happy and pleased.

It was when you were sitting in a corner of a bar, in the middle of a conversation with your boyfriend when the thought kept creeping from the back of your mind, sticking with you as you tried to focus on what he was saying. You smiled at him lovingly, though you struggled to maintain eye contact. Your eyes wandered to this beautiful woman, whose body was created from a Goddess herself. The dress she wore hugged her curves tightly, her hips swayed as she walked to the bar, ordering a whiskey. You eyed her up and down, Simon had his head tilted at you.

"Y'alright, luv?" he asked softly, his hand sliding over to hold yours.

"Mhm," you nodded, clearly flustered. Simon knew you, though. Something was up, and he didn't know what.

"What is it, doll?" his eyes met yours, curiously.

You blushed. There was no way you were going to say it right now. You were nervous of how'd he react to the suggestion. Something of a slight jealousy tinged in your stomach but that was the same exact thing that got you so worked up over it, wanting to try it out... and also for your own selfish pleasure.

You nervously tapped your leg, biting your lip as you thought about how to word it.

"C'mon, now, tell me, babe," he rasped, raising an eyebrow as you were usually up front about your wants and needs.

"Well... I guess I want to try a threesome," you muttered low enough to where only he could hear you. His Adam apple bobbed in his throat as he cleared it, unexpecting to hear what just came out of your mouth. You met his eyes nervously, the silence killed you internally. You started to explain yourself. "Y-you're more than enough, Simon, I just... want to see you with another girl."

What the fuck are you doing? Is this the right way to propose this idea?

"I only want you," he finally spoke.

"I know that," you smirked, happy to have your man's heart, but won't he understand you just want to bring him as much pleasure as you can? "But... something about the idea... turns me on... a lot."

His eyes widened in surprise, genuinely at a loss for words. He meant it when he said he only wanted you, nothing compares to you in his eyes. He means it when he says you're perfectly made for him and only him. What kind of man would turn down this opportunity though? It was for your pleasure, too. "Is that so?" he grinned underneath his mask (yes he wears it in public).

You giggled as you nodded your head towards the girl you had an eye on. "What do you think about her?"

He turned his head slowly, eyeing the girl. "She's pretty," he complimented as his eyes wandered over her body once more.

Your breath fastened as you watched your boyfriend check out the girl, your core heating up and your cheeks flushing red. He took a sip of his drink, letting out a soft sigh as he shifted in his seat. "How about... I go talk to her up, hm? See how that makes you feel?" his voice lowered.

Your pupils dilate as you nod eagerly, giving him your permission. He got up slowly, taking one look over his shoulder at you as he made his way towards her. Your hands gripped the hem of your dress as you watched him set his hand down on the bar, flexing his veins and muscles as he leaned down, his head bobbed as he spoke to her. Her face lit up as she flashed a smile, eyes flickering towards your own. You quickly look down, flustered.

You took a few more shots to calm your nerves, occasionally looking over at your boyfriend flirting with the woman. Her hand soon touched his arm, she gasped as she felt his muscles and snaked up his arm, gripping his bicep as he flexed for her. You noticed him breathing harder as he looks back at you with heavy eyes. You lick your lips as you eye him, signaling him that everything is okay.

It wasn't long before he eventually walked her over to your table, introducing her to you. She smiled widely at you, her eyes wandered to your chest. You smirked as you introduced yourself, holding out your hand. "Y/n," you spoke confidently.

She told you hers and you guys chatted up for a while, the conversation got heated quickly as you bought her a few drinks, getting to know her. You guys talked until the bar closed, and exchanged information. You knew there was a click between you two, but you didn't want to move too fast with this. You needed just a little more time.

For the next two weeks, you were texting her back and forth. Simon caught you smiling at your phone often, picking on you.

"Look how red faced you get chattin' her, luv," he teased, chuckling softly. "How has it been going?"

You smiled as you made eye contact, letting him know how well you two get along, and how you guys like a lot of the same things. You proposed the fantasy to her, and she was more receptive to it than you expected. I would love to... The thought crossed my mind, but I didn't want to push it. I think you're both drop dead fkn gorgeous, even tho ur bf's masked lol, her text read.

"Also, she admitted that she noticed me before you, but was surprised when you approached her," you laughed, teasing him. "And she's... free tonight..."

He raised his eyebrows as he looked at you deeply. "I love you, baby. I'm only ready if you are."

You got ready and sent her your address. You suck in your breath as you saw the on my way. 15 mins, text. You and Simon sat in the living room, he shifted in his seat, spreading his legs as his hand rested behind his head, the other caressed your thigh that tapped nervously, waiting for the knock on the door.

There she is.

You smile brightly, opening the door as she walks in, hugging you tightly as she greeted you. "Hey, doll!" she giggled. "Hi, Simon..."

"Hey there," he spoke, his eyes moved in her direction. You put on a show while you cooked everyone a home cooked meal. You hummed to yourself happily in the kitchen as you plated up the food, sort of eavesdropping on their conversation. You couldn't tell exactly what, but you were pretty sure your boyfriend was telling her all of your weaknesses. You set up the table for everyone to eat. It wasn't even awkward as you all ate and talked, it was a great conversation, actually. They both flustered you as they complimented your cooking.

"Wonder what else tastes... delicious," she spoke in a low tone, eyeing you as you blushed, biting your lip at her compliment.

Simon chuckled, noticing the effect she had on you already.

"You'll find out soon, darling," you cooed.

The party migrated to the bedroom, where you and her sat next to each other and Simon laid across the edge of the bed, his bottle of whiskey nearby as well as the bottle of wine you were sharing. Soft pop music played from your radio lowly in the background. Simon turned the LED lights to a dark red. It was as if you and her had the same idea, as both of your hands cupped each other's face as you leaned into her lips, kissing her softly. Savoring the sweet taste of her lip gloss as you sucked her bottom lip. Your hands travelled down to her waist as you groped it tightly in your hands. Simon's eyes roamed between the two of you, enjoying the sight in front of him. Seeing his girl being pleased from this point of view was... satisfying. The kiss became more heated as her hands explored your body, roaming down your chest as she squeezed your breast, earning a moan that escaped your lips. Your hands mirrored her own actions against her own body, you cupped her tit in your hand as you squeezed it tightly. Your lips broke only to catch some breath.

Simon's heart nearly dropped when he saw the way you two look at him. Both of you crawled towards him. You lifted up his mask and your lips met his first, letting him taste her as you stuck your tongue in his mouth which he greedily sucked. Her hands stroked his chest before you pulled back, you nudged him in her direction. He licked his lips, sucking in a breath before their lips locked. You couldn't help it, you were already wet. You bit your lip as each of your hands groped onto them, caressing their heads as they made out, a sticky string connected them as he pulled away to kiss you again, this time deeper. You felt his heartbeat slamming as you caressed his cheek, your fingers splayed across his neck as he crawled on top of you.

Her hands massaged your waist as you fell softly on your back, his hand traced between the valley of your breasts and wrapped around your throat, holding you down as his other hand grasped her throat, you moaned as their lips crashed. You watched with heavy-lidded eyes, a bitten lip and your hips needily bucked into the air, falling short as he laid atop of you. Their kiss broke and he looked down at you, his chest heavily rising and falling as he quickly took off his shirt, his muscles flexed before they relaxed again. You leaned up, four hands caressed his body, stroking his back, his abs, his chest, his arms. He growled as he gripped your shirt and ripped it off of you, leaning down and kissing your chest hungrily, leaving love bites in between. He squeezed both of your breasts, harshly sucking on your nipples before pulling away. She leaned down and kissed up your naval, sucking on the skin around your belly button. His hands groped her waist, stroked her sides, pulling her bottoms off as she kissed up your body, sucking on your tits. He ripped her shirt off next, pulling off of her, letting her breasts fall against your skin. She stuck her finger in your mouth which you sucked on eagerly as your body rolled into her touch. She moaned into your tit as Simon slapped her ass, sliding his hand in between her cheeks, feeling her warmth.

"Fuckin' hell..." he rasped. She kicked off the remainder of her pants along with her underwear as she crawled on top of you. Your hands slid down her waist, meeting Simon's hand that tightly gripped the fat of her ass. His hand held yours as he massaged her ass, his clothed cock grinded against your covered heat. Not for long though, she sat up as she removed your bottoms too. She left you in your thong. She looked up at you through her lashes as she kissed up your leg, teasingly. Her hands crept up your thighs, using her nails... Simon fucking told her I like being scratched, you thought to yourself, as she finally tugged your thong down.

Simon palmed himself through his pants, watching the way her ass spread in front of him as she buried her face in your pussy. He was quickly distracted as he heard you moan out in ecstasy, your moans making his cock ache in his pants even more. Your hand rest at the back of her head as she ate you out expertly, rolling her tongue against your clit, causing your legs to slightly quiver.

"Oh, fuck, yes," you moaned out, making eye contact with your boyfriend, that similar grin he recognizes on your face. He knows it feels good.

Her moans vibrated into your clit as she pushed her nose into your mound, sucking as hard as she could. Simon's finger prodded at her entrance, teasing her as she whimpered into your cunt. He chuckled from behind her as he slid one finger in. "That feel good, luv?" he asked her, his other hand pushing her head deeper into you. Your mouth fell agape at the feeling, her tongue now flat as he controlled the pace of which she licked you at. She breathed heavily, her eyes looking up at you was so adorable. Simon slipped another finger in her, you watched her body jolt at the feeling. He moaned, as he continued thrusting his hand into her pussy. "That's it, good fuckin' slut... Keep eatin' that cunt... fuck," he rasped. "She's about to cum, look how well you're doin', luv..."

He knew you so well. Your back arched high off the bed, your fingers tangled with Simon's hand in her hair as your orgasm sent waves and waves of electricity through you. "Oh fuck..." you panted. She kissed up your body, laying between your legs as her ass arched into the air. You traced down her back, flipping her over. You return the favor, suckling on the sensitive spots on her neck. You lick your fingers, and softly press it to her clit. Her little moans are music to your ears. "Yeah?" you purred as you kissed down to her breast, taking a hard bud into your mouth, sucking it roughly. Your boyfriend's finger explored your folds, agonizingly slow as he pressed his thumb to your clit, chuckling as you quivered. He finally freed his aching cock, his hand pressed at the base as he jerked it, watching you kiss down her sexy body, watching you smile as you bury your face into her cunt, your tongue works fast at her clit before you suck on it. Your hands grip her hip as she bucks into your face. Simon crawls up to her, grabbing a fistful of her hair as he smacks his cock on her tongue. You moaned into her cunt, your own clenching around nothing as you watched her please your man...

His head fell back, a deep groan echoed as she bobbed her head up and down his shaft, her hands stroking what didn't fit. His hand rested at the crown of her head. "Ah, fuck," he hissed, his hips starting to rut back and forth, hitting her throat deeper. Her eyes watered as she struggled. "Jus' like that, good girl."

You pressed a finger into her cunt, feeling her clench around it. She pulled off his cock with a small gasp as your fingers teased her cervix, quickly coaxing her first orgasm from her. Her hands then gripped the bedsheets as her back arched. Simon grabbed a fistful of her tit as he slapped his cock against it, watching it jiggle, jerking off as he grabbed her head and placed his cock in her mouth again, this time taking full control as he used her throat like a fleshlight, her gagging sounds filled the room as she attempted to moan. You pull back with a whimper as slobber drools onto her clit, her pussy squelched as you fingered her. Her thighs shook as you felt her clamp onto your fingers, her arousal seeped and you lapped it up, before you offered your finger to Simon. His eyes rolled back as he helped you clean off your fingers. He pulled his cock out of her mouth, pulling you into a rough kiss. He groped your ass as he bit your lip, savoring the taste of her arousal on your tongue.

"You havin' fun, my sweet girl?" he grabbed your jaw, leaning down to your level, his hand reached between your legs, finding your sopping cunt that he sunk two fingers into. "So fuckin' wet, yeah? What a fuckin' whore." His finger moved faster, your arm slung around his neck as he stole another stomach-turning orgasm from you, you chanted his name as he pushed you on your back, grabbing the other girl by her neck as he placed her next to you. He then grabbed your ankles and pulled you both to the edge of the bed. "Hold your legs up. Both of you."

You both lay beneath him, holding your legs up from behind your knees, in full display for your boyfriend. You look at her already fucked-out face and smile, your lidded eyes met hers and she giggled, leaning over to kiss you. He teased his cock between the puffy lips of your cunt, collecting your slick before he pressed the tip into you. He grunted as he felt the velvety grip of your walls around his cock, one hand gripped the fat of your thigh for leverage as he fucked a few more thrusts into you, before pulling out of you with a deep growl. He fisted himself for a second before he pushed his cock between her cunt, he watched her mouth fall open in anticipation as he slowly pushed in. "Bloody hell, take it..." he muttered, holding her hips down as he set a brutal pace, slowing down shortly after. He rolled his hips into her one last time before he pulled out, switching back to you. It went on like this for several minutes, several orgasms later, the both of you a whimpering mess under him made his sadistic little heart happy.

A stinging sensation crept in your stomach this time... as he stayed in her longer than he has before. He caged her with his arms, pressing his forehead to hers. "This cunt feels so fuckin' good wrapped around me, yeah? Such good sluts for me." You reached down, rubbing your clit as you watched his balls slap against her ass, watching the way he gropes her body, sticks his thumb in her mouth to suck while he thrusts faster. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes!" she cried. "I'm gonna fucking cum-" she warned, but he pulled out of her right as her legs started to shake. Her body spasmed as she pouted.

"That's too bad," Simon chuckled as he now caged you. He kissed your lips roughly, kissing down your neck as he teased his cock against your hole. You whimpered as he rolled your nipple between his fingers, finally bullying his cock fully into you. Your brows furrowed as you bit back your moans, wrapping your legs around him as he brutally rammed into you. You were becoming close, his cock was hitting your cervix just the right way....

He pulled back with a groan, something dark about it.

"Simon, Simon, Simon, please..." you begged.

He didn't answer as he laid in the middle of the bed on his back. He tapped her thighs, instructing her to sit on his face. Leaving you to his cock. She straddles his face, her plump thighs pressed around his ears, facing you as you sank down on his length. His body tenses up at the feeling, his hands cupped your thighs as you started riding slowly at your own pace, working at your climax. You sighed out in pleasure, watching her body gyrate against his mouth, watching his jaw clench as he sucks on her clit. She tilts her head back, your hands lean forward and cup her breasts, pinching her nipples and she squeals out. Her small hands grab your wrists before they snake up your arms, cupping your face as you look each other in the eye whilst you use your boyfriend for you girls' pleasure. Two moaning messes above him, both singing his name blissfully. His hands fight back and forth, taking turns groping both of your bodies. You lean into a kiss, a sloppy, heated makeout session as you both reach your highs, moaning into each other's mouths as your pussies leak slick all over your boyfriend, his deep moans now muffled into her cunt as her full weight falls onto him in her euphoric state. Your cunt pulsed around his cock, watching her get off and your boyfriend being pleasured like this proves to be too much for you as you released one last time. You gripped his thighs that clenched, as his cock twitched inside of you, signaling he was close. "On your knees," he demanded breathlessly. The both of you hurriedly got on your knees in front of him, he stood up on the bed before you two. Like the hungry cumsluts you were, you both held out your tongues, ready for his cum. He whimpered as he stroked his cock fast, taking turns placing the tip on your tongues. "Keep lookin' at me like that. God - fuck - you're both so fuckin' gorgeous, o-oh, fuck-" he gritted, the first thick rope of cum landed on her tongue, then another flew out on your face, and another on hers. He stroked every drop out, smearing it all over your faces. His mouth stayed fell open, he bit his lip as he watched you lick his release off of her face, and her do the same.

"Dirty little fuckin' minxes..." he panted, a happy grin plastered across his face.

The both of you giggled evilly, taking comfort in his now fucked-out state.

After a little bit of rest, you and her showered together, allowing Simon some alone time in his own shower.

After helping her clean herself up, and giving her a spare pair of clothes, you made her a midnight snack and showed her to the guest room, where you both got to gossip a little about Simon.

"That was definitely... the best sex I ever had," she admitted, trying to stop the blush creeping on her face.

"Trust me... it was... definitely one of our best times," you wink at her, laughing at her easily flustered state. "He's... really fucking good."

"You're a lucky woman," she smiled, turning on her side, pulling the covers up as she yawns. I smile warmly, my heart content.

"Thank you," I blushed. I know I am.

I met Simon in the kitchen, getting his midnight snack as well. It was silent as I grabbed my food, but as we made eye contact with each other, it felt like an even deeper connection. He walked in front of me, placing both hands on either side of me on the counter top.

He leaned down, inhaling my scent. "Do you know... how much I fuckin' love you?"

I shrug coyly. "Yeah. More than anything, right?" I wrap my arms around his chest, looking up at him.

"Damn right," he agreed, kissing the top of your head as he pulls you in a tight embrace. "Can't wait to marry you."

I don't know I kinda love this tbh I hope you enjoy!

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tuiccim · 2 years

Text

Angelface

Pairing: Nomad Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Smut NSFW 18+. Virginity loss, innocence kink, praise, pleasure dom, sex work, unprotected sex/exposure (wrap it before you tap it!.)

Word count: 4k

Summary: It just never happened for you and you were tired of being a virgin. You wanted experience and you wanted your first time to be good, so you hire one of the infamous madam, Lady Marmalade's gentlemen to introduce you to the world of sex.

A/N: This is for the Thot Neighborhood's Lady Marmalade Writing Challenge organized by @yarnforbrains. Thank you to the lovely @whisperlullabyfor beta reading for me. Lady Marmalade banner by @yarnforbrains. Moodboard and dividers by me.

Dedicated to my darling friend @mjolnir-steve.

You stood in the room you had been shown to and trembled as you waited. Clad in the lingerie you had bought for this night, you take slow breaths while casting your eyes around the room. It was opulent, as was everything in Lady Marmalade’s establishment, but this room was more muted than others you had seen. The king size bed was covered in a soft comforter with silken sheets underneath. Mahogany and green furniture were placed around the room and you wondered if anyone else had ever stood in the middle of it as you did, both scared and excited to be taking this step.

You had chosen carefully among the options for your first adventure. Nomad was described as a pleasure dom who was both gentle and firm. And it didn’t hurt that he was the most delicious looking man you had ever seen. Tall, dark blond, and muscular with a beard and beautiful blue eyes. You were excited to meet him, but when the knock on the door came the butterflies in your stomach worked double time.

“C-come in,” you called.

“Hi. I’m Nomad.”” The adonis that walked in was even larger than you expected and your eyes widened.

“Hi,” you shift uncomfortably.

Nomad steps into your space with an air of self-assurance that makes you feel small. His fingers tip your chin up to look you in the face. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“Let’s go over the rules, okay?” His voice is mesmerizing and you find yourself nodding along.

He takes your hand and guides you to a large armchair where he sits. He looks up at you expectantly making you move towards the matching chair but he pulls you into his lap.

“Sit here, Angelface,” he says softly.

“Oh, okay,” you shift in his lap to get more comfortable.

“Careful. I’ll forget to go over the rules if you keep squirming like that.”

“I-I’m sorry!”

“I’m just kidding. Are you nervous, angel?”

“A little. I’ve never done this before.”

“Don’t worry. I'll make sure you enjoy it. First, we need to establish a safe word. Do you have one chosen?” Nomad asks.

“Is tulip okay?” you ask. You’d never had a safe word before but you had read about them and came up with one just in case he asked.

“Perfect. I read your sheet with your limits and preferences,” Nomad asks a few questions that you stammer replies to while he interlaces the guidelines for the night.

In all of his questions you never can quite bring yourself to admit the real reason you’re here. How do you tell him that you chose to lose your virginity in this way? You had come here in hopes that this would be a pleasant and pleasurable experience. You wanted your first time to be enjoyable since it wouldn’t be with someone special.

“You have me all night. When we’re done, would you like me to stay or leave?” Nomad asks. The question throws you off and you panic searching for the right answer. “Hey. It’s okay. You can decide later.”

“I think stay,” you reply tremulously.

“Okay. You can change your mind at any time. Now, I think that was everything we needed to go over,” Nomad smiles as his hand wanders up your thigh and caresses your hip. “Would you like to get started?”

You nod nervously and he captures your chin between his fingers and thumb.

“Words,” he says with a raised eyebrow.

“Y-yes.”

“Good girl,” he stands with you in his arms and carries you to the bed. Pulling back the covers, he lays you on the silky sheets, unties the robe you wear, and pulls it open revealing the sexy yet innocent lingerie you have beneath. “Beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

He pulls his shirt off and settles over you. His lips touch yours gently and when you respond, he slips his tongue into your mouth. You moan lowly at the welcome intrusion and feel your body begin to tingle with anticipation. A moment later, his hands are kneading at your breasts and you feel his growing erection pressing against you. Then, suddenly, panic sets in. It was going too fast for you. You needed a minute. You needed more time. You push against his wide chest and try to pull away.

“No. Stop,” you whisper.

Nomad had heard those words slip past many women’s lips to encourage him to get rougher. He grabs your hands and hauls them over your head. His hips press into you harder. Burying his face in your neck, he chuckles, “Like it a little rough, huh, Angelface?”

“No. Please, stop. T- tulip!”

Before you can even entirely register his movement, Nomad is sitting at the end of the bed with his hands up in a non-threatening manner. You sit up, staring at him and breathing heavily.

After giving you a moment to calm, he asks, “Can you tell me what I did that you didn’t like? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize. If you aren’t completely comfortable with what we’re doing then we need to stop. You were right to use your safe word. What do you need, angel?”

“I…” you feel near tears at the moment. Shame welled up in you as you admitted to your lack of experience, “I’ve never done this before. Any of this.”

“Okay. Let me make sure I’m understanding you correctly. When you say you’ve never done this you mean sex?” Nomad cocks his head.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Tell me what you have experienced.”

“Um, kissing. Some p-petting. Over the clothes. I-” you’re so embarrassed you have trouble continuing.

“You? It’s okay, angel. There’s no judgment here. Tell me what it is you’re looking for.”

Exasperated with yourself and the situation, you blurt out, “I’m a virgin and I don’t want to be anymore. I just realized at this point it’s never going to happen the way I thought it would. I want to experience it and I want it to be good. I want to be introduced to it by someone who knows what they’re doing. But at the same time, I’m scared. I’m nervous because I don’t know what I’m doing and it was going so fast. I just wanted to go a little slower. I want to learn what I like and how to do things. I know it’s pathetic and I was scared to tell you before because what if you don’t want a client like that.”

Truth was, Nomad found your confession endearing. His heart went out to you but not out of pity. He was impressed and turned on by your adventurous spirit. He reined in his smile so you wouldn’t think he was laughing at you and explained, “It’s not pathetic. It’s actually pretty cool. It just never happened for you and instead of waiting for it, you found a way to have the experience for yourself the way you want it. I admire that.”

“Really?” you ask, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Really. And, truthfully, it’s hot to think I’ll be the first you ever experience those things with,” he slides closer to you, watching to make sure you didn’t shy away.

“Nomad, you-”

“Steve.”

“What?” you look at him curiously.

“My real name is Steve,” he explains.

Understanding that he was revealing a glimpse beyond the facade to make himself more real to you, you smile, “Steve. You, um, you don’t have to say that. I know it’s not exactly sexy.”

“I think you’re very sexy,” Steve smiles sweetly.

“You have to say that,” you demure.

“No, I don’t. Tell you what, I promise I won’t say anything I don’t mean as long as you promise to be honest with me about what you like and don’t.”

You lick your lips and nod.

“Words,” he whispers.

A thrill goes through you at the command spoken so gently, “Yes, agreed.”

“Good girl,” he says, causing another zephyr of pleasure to trill through you. “Can I touch you?”

Staring at him, you start to nod but then quickly breathe out a yes.

“Fast learner. I like that,” Steve caresses your face and swipes a thumb over your lips. “We’re going to take it slow and I’m going to check in with you as we go. I promise you, angel, I’m going to make sure you enjoy this. Use your safe word if you want me to stop. Tell me if there is something you don’t like. I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

“Yes,” the word comes out embarrassingly fast.

His lips caress yours in a gentle kiss. Pulling back, he looks at you for any apprehension before going back in for another kiss. You take the initiative to put your hand on his chest as your lips flirt with his and a little thrill goes through him. He's surprised at the way he’s reacting to you. He can always perform but he’s never felt this level of attraction or emotion with a client. Maybe it was your innocence or knowing the trust you were putting in him but he was enthralled.

As the kiss deepened, his arms wrapped around you and pulled you onto his lap. He hadn’t wanted to lay you back under him again until you were a little more comfortable. You melt into him, shifting in his lap to bring yourself closer.

“Little squirmer, aren’t you?” Steve whispers as he trails kisses down your neck.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper nervously.

“I like it, angel,” his teeth scrape your skin sending a shiver through you. He pulls you more firmly against him and ruts his hips into you.

You release a small gasp when you feel his erection press against you. Steve pulls the strap of your negligee down your shoulder before pausing with his hand hovering above your breast, “Can I touch you here, angel?”

“Please,” you whisper. Your body is tingling in anticipation of his touch and when his thumb swipes over your nipple you let out a whimper and bury your face in his neck. You berate yourself for sounding so pathetically needy but you were already gushing, and by the time he got to your panties they would be soaked through.

“Don’t hide from me. You like that?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to lay you back and take this off of you. I want to be able to feel every inch of this soft skin."

You laid on the bed feeling vulnerable in only a pair of panties. Steve leans on his arm while trailing a hand back down to your breast. He kisses you with more intensity as his hand makes its way lower on your stomach until his fingertips brush your pantyline. You take a shuddering breath causing him to pull back in order to stare into your eyes, “Okay?”

“Y-yes,” you whispered, staring at him wide-eyed.

“Good girl,” he says as he kisses you again.

You whimper into the kiss when his hand brushes your folds. His finger traces your slit and then circles your clit making you moan. "That's it. Let me hear how good it feels."

Steve trails kisses down your neck and chest. When he reaches your breast, he flattens his tongue to give a long lick across your taunt nipple. Your back arches as a little cry escapes you. Encouraged, he does the same to your other side and then switches back and forth between the two making you writhe under him. His fingers had played over your clit making you feel incredibly warm and when he reached to pull the panties off of you, you had lifted up to oblige him.

His fingers rubbed over your clit a few more times and then slipped lower to press at your entrance. Your knees lifted just a bit signaling Steve that you wanted him to continue. He slid one finger into you and you let out a small cry as your sweet cunt seemed to pull him.

"Fuck, you feel good," he says. "Angelface, I want to go down on you."

You nod as you stare up at him, barely managing to whisper a yes.

"Normally, I'd use a dental dam but I want you to feel the warmth and wetness. And, truthfully, I really want to taste you. Is that okay? I've always used protection before and I'm tested regularly…"

"Yes. It's okay," your mind reels. He wanted to taste you? Fuck, that sounded so hot coming out of him. He trailed kisses down your stomach and your breathing picked up. When his lips hit your apex, you let out an exclamation, "Oh!"

"I'm just getting started, angelface," Steve says as he takes a long lick up your slit.

Your eyes slam shut and your head tips back as he works his tongue over you. Grabbing the sheets, you open your legs wider, finding the sensations almost overwhelmingly pleasurable. He works his finger in and out of you in time with his tongue over your clit, building you up expertly. Swirling his tongue in swift circles, all of Steve's concentration is on making this as good for you as possible. When you begin to tremble, your whimpers coming closer together, he knows you're approaching the precipice.

"Let go, angel. Come for me," he encourages before diving back in.

"Oh, fuck, oh, God," you whine before letting out a high pitch whimper as your orgasm breaks over you.

Steve works you through it making sure to pull every sweet sound and shudder from you. When you've come down, he kisses his way slowly back up to your lips. He smiles down at you and then stands to reach for the buttons on his pants but you put a hand out.

"C-can I do that?" You ask timidly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, angelface,” Steve watches enthralled as you glance up at him innocently and then concentrate on taking his pants off. You’re surprised when you realize he isn’t wearing underwear beneath them and take a quick breath as his length bobs in front of you.

Tentatively, you reach out to touch him before pulling your hand back, “Is it okay to touch you?”

Steve nods down at you.

Smirking, you raise an eyebrow and repeat what he had told you several times, “Words.”

Steve’s cock jumps at the sassy remark and he reaches down to squeeze your face with one hand, “I’m gonna let that go but get sassy with me again and some discipline will be in order. Now, touch me. However you want.”

A thrill goes through you at the authoritative way he speaks. Reaching out, you brush your fingertips over his hard length. The skin was surprisingly soft in contrast and you trail your fingers down him until you gently cup his heavy balls. His breathing picks up and you wrap your fingers around him to pump gently. Licking your lips, you watch as he twitches in your hand.

“That’s good,” Steve whispers. The sweet way you were studying him and then watching your tongue wet your lips as if they wanted to wrap around him made him nearly feral. He wanted to throw you back on the bed and bury himself in you but he held himself off allowing you to explore. A drop of precum beads the tip and, without a second thought, your tongue darts out to lap it up.

“Fuck!” Steve pulls away from you.

“I’m sorry! I should have asked! I’m so sorry!” you cry, terrified you had overstepped.

His chest is heaving and hands flex at his sides as his eyes bore into yours.

“I’ll…I’ll go,” You start to stand but are suddenly pushed back on the bed. Steve’s body covers yours and he kisses you fiercely. You gasp but wrap your arms around him. His knee wedges between your legs and you know he can feel your wetness as you grind against his thigh.

“Fuck, fuck. Jesus,” Steve exclaims as he rolls off you and onto his back. He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes as he breathes deeply. You stare at him in confusion and when he finally turns to look at you, his gut clenches. “I’m sorry, angelface. It’s okay. Everything’s fine.”

“I don’t understand what just happened.”

“When, that… fuck. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced and all I wanted to do was bury my cock as deep in you as I could. I had to stop myself and calm down before I did something stupid. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please,” you whisper, “please hurt me. I want this. I want you.”

“Angel, you can’t say things like that. I’m gonna combust,” Steve groans.

You take a moment to consider and then throw a leg over to straddle him. You rub yourself against his cock, “Please, please, Steve.”

“Fuck, let me put a condom on.”

“Do you have to? Can I feel you just this one time? Please,” you can barely contain yourself. You were so ready to sink down on him, to finally feel what it’s like to be full and fucked.

“Go slow, angelface. I don’t want to hurt you,” he groans as his hands grip your hips.

It was awkward for a moment while you try to position him at your entrance until he reaches to help and then you let out a whimper as you feel his head press in. He watched you, every look that flashed across your face as you slowly worked him in. Fuck, he could come just watching you on top of him. The stretch was intense at first and a few bites of pain hit you.

“Wait right there,” he commands when you pause and wince. His thumb rubs over your clit and he talks to you as he builds you up. “You look so fucking hot on top of me. You licked my cock earlier and I nearly lost my mind. Couldn’t wait to get inside you and then when I try to hold myself off, you climb right on top and go after what you want. Fuck, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. Look at me. Look in my eyes. I want you to come. I’m not going to let you move until you do and I can tell you want to. You want to ride my cock while I’m playing with you so you can know what it feels like but not yet. First I want you to come and clench around my cock. You can do it for me, angelface.”

His words push you over the edge and you come with a cry, clenching around his cock as your body cries out for more of him. You begin to move again, the pain a distant memory already. Your body welcomes him and you can’t find it in yourself to care about anything but the meeting of your bodies.

“Good girl. That made it easier, huh? Fuck, you feel so good.”

“Oh, God, Steve! I didn’t know. It feels so good. Fuck,” you whine as you move and within a few seconds you come again, squeezing his cock.

Steve’s face is in a grimace as he holds himself back from coming inside of you. When you’ve come down, he grabs you and flips you under him. His hips make slow circles against you, rubbing your clit with his V and making you lift your legs to draw him even closer. He kisses you deeply, his tongue pressing into your mouth before he pulls back to press his forehead against yours.

“I’ll be right back, angel. I’m gonna slip a condom on. You’re making it hard to hold myself back.”

“Okay,” you whisper. You watch him slip out and you immediately miss the stretch of his cock in you. You didn’t think it would be this good. The way he talked to you, the way he moved, everything about him made you feel so incredibly comfortable and turned on.

When he came back to the bed, your bodies fit together so naturally that you could swear he had already memorized you. He kissed you and gently pressed in again.

“Oh, God,” you whimpered.

“Feel good, angelface?”

“Yes. I…” you trail off.

“You what? Talk to me,” Steve stares into your eyes.

“I want more,” you feel your face heat, unsure how to express yourself.

“More what?”

“I want to come with you inside me again. I… I want you to come.”

“Angel! Fucking hell, you’re so hot and so sweet,” Steve rains praises down on you as he moves a little faster. He builds you up with kisses and praise. His cock hits the sweet spot inside you and then he presses down on your mound as he fucks into you harder. Your eyes fly wide and you cry out as your body spasms and squirts.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. So fucking good for me,” Steve groans out the words as he comes hard. He collapses, rolling you both on your sides and pulls you against him. When your breathing returns to normal, he smiles at you, “I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Me, too,” you reply and then giggle.

Steve laughs, charmed by this playful side of you, “I can do better.”

And he did. He spent the next few hours tutoring you, with drink breaks and conversation in between. He had you on your back, your belly, all fours, on top, and standing in the shower. When you finally passed out in his arms, after he utterly exhausted you, he smiled as he buried his face in your hair to sleep.

Waking up several hours later, sunlight streaming in through the windows, you felt his cock pressed against you from behind as he spooned you.

“Good morning,” he whispered, kissing your shoulder.

“Good morning,” you smiled.

“Can I have you one more time, angelface? Please?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer. You feel him roll away and then hear the crinkle of a wrapper. A second later, he’s pressed against your back and his hand slides down to the apex of your legs. You intake a sharp breath when he brushes your folds and guides his cock inside of you.

“Are you okay? Are you sore?” He pauses.

“A little but I’m okay. Please don’t stop.”

He’s incredibly gentle. His hips slowly working his cock in and out of you. You reach back to pull his face into your neck. You close your eyes and relish in the feel of him and the pleasure he gives. You had more orgasms than you thought was possible the night before and you were surprised when he was able to build you up again so easily.

“It’s so good, Steve. It’s so good,” you sob.

“I know, angel. Fuck, you feel so good. Are you going to come for me again, pretty girl? Huh? I need to feel you coming around me again. Now, be a good girl and come for me. You can do that, can’t you?”

“Yes, yes!” you tremble as your orgasm overtakes you. The praise gave you almost as much pleasure as his talented cock and fingers.

“Good girl. Such a good, fucking girl,” Steve shudders as you milk him with your orgasm.

A little later, you’re dressed and ready to leave. Steve watches you with melancholy. He had never had an experience like the night before and he was already craving your body again but he also had enjoyed your mind. Conversation and laughter had flown easily between the two of you and he found himself hoping. Kissing you, he smiles and says, “You’ll come back to see me, won’t you? I have more to teach you.”

You smile at him and nod before kissing him one last time and slipping out of the room. You felt bad for lying to him. You knew yourself and you wouldn’t be able to stop from falling for the man that had shown you such kindness, gentleness, and pleasure. After all, you had accomplished your goal. Glancing back at the man watching you from the top of the stairs, you felt like crying knowing you’d never see him again.

Part Two

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