#the government continues to disappoint me

[queer-reader-07]

just out here reminding myself that the core of my belief system is faith in the human story

[mariasont]

Spoiled - A.H

a/n: felt feral writing this hope y'all enjoy it as much as i did

think im ovulating or something YALL IDK

anyhow happy reading let me know what yall think 🤭

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it

warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex!, sex toy!, fem solo masturbation, penelope being a little instigator lmao, dirty talk, soft dom!hotch, established relationship, honestly a little bit of angst whoops, reader is slightly dramatic like hotch has been gone for prob 5 hours STAND UP!

wc: 3.3k

"Penelope Grace Garcia!"

Her comment earned her the full government name, igniting a burst of laughter that you attempt to smother behind your hand. Sinking deeper into the couch, you dismiss the absurdity with a shake of your head. You even find yourself glancing over your shoulder even though you know no one is home.

"You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this, but trust me, that's the least of our worries in this relationship."

"Look, whatever floats your love boat or rocks your bed frame is strictly your business," she comments as if that were the most casual thing to say.

You giggle, a warmth spreading through you as you tread across the kitchen tiles, the phone pressed against your ear. 

"Oh my god, Pen," you let out a laugh, feeling a soft crimson spread across your cheeks, while your thighs swell with the thoughts of your doting boyfriend. "No, no, like I said we're more than okay in that department. It just gets, well, lonely when he's away."

Your hand curls around the neck of your favorite bottle of red, easing the cork free with a satisfying pop. The liquid swirls into the glass, a little more than probably necessary, as the gentle hiss of water beginning to simmer breaks through the kitchen. 

"You, my dear, are a saint among mortals."

"Well, he makes it easy," you shrug, pouring the rice into the bubbling pot, a cloud of steam rising to paint the windows.

"Honestly, I don't know how you manage. I'd be itching for it, especially if it's as good as you say," Penelope admits with a dramatic sigh.

You laugh, propping the phone against the backsplash, its speaker projecting the conversation into the room. Aaron stands just out of sight, unnoticed, taking in your every syllable.

"When he gets back, trust me, every second apart seems like a small price to pay."

"Ever thought about getting yourself a toy? You know, for those long nights?" Penelope hints not (at all) so slyly. 

The wine almost sprays from your mouth as you stifle a surprised splutter. Aaron, still unseen, raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, um, no, I haven't really considered... a toy," you murmur, cheeks burning. You clear your throat, pretending to be engrossed in the simmering pot. "Aaron might have an opinion on that, I guess."

Your attempt at nonchalance was failing, you definitely knew that.

Aaron rested casually against the door frame, a soft smile touching his lips at the sound of your bashful laughter. He'd always had a soft spot for the way your cheeks bloom with color--a sight he wasn't afraid to go great lengths to witness. The idea of a toy seemed to pique his curiosity, drawing a pensive frown as his attention stayed fixed on you for a moment longer.

He slips away silently, his steps carrying him to the front door as you continue your conversation with Penelope.

The call disconnects with a soft click, and you're left in the quiet of the kitchen, unwittingly promising to keep Penelope updated. Turning back to the stove, you stir the sauce with a distracted hand, your lips downturned. Aaron should have been home by now.

The dining table is set, candles flickering, their glow falling on the chair he's yet to fill. You let out a sigh, stealing another look at the ticking clock. The food is ready, but with each passing minute, it grows cooler, just the unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in your chest. 

The audible twist of the key catches your attention, and you can't help but glance over your shoulder. Aaron walks in, his lips curving into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hi, my gorgeous girl," he greets, his voice a familiar sound that kindles a familiar flutter into your heart.

He places his briefcase down, the sound muted, and as he approaches, his lips brush a tender kiss against your temple. The annoyance that had been bubbling inside you melts away with his touch. Damn him.

You turn to him, a sheepish "Hi" fluttering out, your cheeks tinged with heat. It's a feeling that's always fresh, the way he still makes you feel like you're back in high school, hearts doodled in the margins of your notebook.

Aaron settles into his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the tile following his movements.

"Sorry 'M late," he offers, his tone warm, appreciative. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, honey. Thank you."

His fingers gently sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his smile softening you, disarming you. He's so beautiful.

"You're welcome," you reply, your cheeks growing warmer with each word. "And, um, I hope it's okay. It might be a bit cold. I thought...I guess I assumed you'd be home sooner."

You voice trails off, leaving behind a trail of embarrassed concern, wondering if perhaps you'd somehow overstepped. 

Aaron looks at you, his eyes turning kind as he discerns the unease on your face.

"I'm sorry, baby, got held up with a little errand." He bites into the food, and a gratified hum indicates his approval. "This is delicious."

You find yourself beaming at the praise. He had a talent for that--praising you, almost as if he'd made it his life mission. This was a first for you in a relationship, and it's exactly why the late nights and time spent alone didn't weigh so heavily. 

After dinner, you're rinsing off the plates when Aaron's hands draw you close, his hands claiming your waist, the heat of his palms radiating through the fabric of your shirt. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"Let me help with that. You're spoiling me," he insists, his words spoken into your damp skin.

You lean back into his embrace, his chest flush against your back.

"I like taking care of you," you admit, heart skipping a beat under the weight of his gaze, the softness in his eyes dissolving your concentration on the task at hand. 

A deep, affectionate groan escapes Aaron as he pulls you even closer. But all good things come to an end, and the ringing of his phone seems like an icy intrusion, like a sudden draft into the kitchen.

"Hotchner," he answers, and even though the word leaves his lips, his fingers gently sketch patterns across your hip. 

You feel your heart sink. When he hangs up, his eyes lock with yours, brimming with an apology he doesn't voice. It's unnecessary, you already know.

"A case?" You hate how small your voice sounds, dipped in an understanding you wish you didn't have.

He nods, a simple stupid gesture that sends a lump of disappointment soaring up your throat, which you desperately try to swallow down. 

"Okay... just, be careful, okay? I'll miss you."

"And I'll miss you, angel. Be good for me."

There's a hollowness in the house that follows you through each room. You were well aware of Aaron's demanding job when you started dating--the unpredictable schedule, the sudden departures, the cases that required his immediate attention. Still, this awareness did nothing to soften to sting of his absence. At all. 

You found yourself wandering aimlessly, picking up a book only to set it down unread, starting a movie but not really watching. Eventually, you ended up in the bedroom, his bedroom, where the subtle scent of his cologne lingers. It's both comforting and heart-wrenching. God, you felt like you were being so dramatic.

You climb into the bed, the sheets cool against your skin, too big and empty without him. Your eyes darts to the phone resting on the nightstand. You've always been careful not to disturb him while he's working, but tonight felt different.

With a trembling hand, you pick up the phone, your thumb hovering indecisively over the screen. Reluctantly, you returned it to its place. There was no point in bothering him.

A sudden draft sent a shiver up your spine, reminding you of the blanket Hotch had bought for you a couple months ago. You sighed, rising from the bed and moving to the closet.

But your eyes skipped over the blanket, instead fixating on a shiny pink bag tucked away in a secluded corner. Compelled by a spike of curiosity, you grabbed the bag and pulled it open. Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a sudden flush as you placed it on the bed. How long had this been hiding here? And the timing--just after your conversation with Penelope--felt almost too uncanny. 

You went back to your phone.

Hi

The message was simple. You hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

Almost immediately, your phone vibrated--Aaron's name illuminated the screen. You answer, and his voice was there, infused with immediate concern.

"Hi honey. You okay?" His question was straightforward, cutting through the noise.

You nodded, forgetting for a moment he couldn't see you. Shifting on the bed, you said softly, "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Is it a bad time?"

His response is quick. "You could never bother me."

A blush flares on your cheeks, and a smile instinctively forms. You fidget on the bed, the sheets sighing with your movements, sounds that don't escape Aaron's attentive detection.

"Can't seem to find the right spot without me there, huh?"

"I can't seem to do a lot of things without you here," you grumble under your breath, intended more for yourself than for him. The bed emits a soft creak as you turn again, your breath hitching in a pout that he can almost see through the phone. "Aaron, I found something in the closet..."

You lost your words, fingertips tracing the toy's edge, as you fumbled with the strings of your shorts.

"Hmm? Care to enlighten me."

"You know."

You weren't in the mood for his teasing, because you knew he knew. You could sense his smugness, his voice dripping into that familiar, velvety register that prompted your lips to purse.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

Once again, you found yourself stirring against the linen, nibbling on your lip as a wave of exasperation washed over you, your eyes rolling into their sockets.

"Where are you?"

"Just got to my hotel room." You could hear the subtle movements in the background, accompanied by the soft groans of the mattress under his weight. "What did you find in the closet that was so urgent you needed to text me in the middle of my case?"

Your face was warm. "You said it wasn't a bother."

"And I meant it, now spell it out for me."

Your hands cautiously pushed over the toy, examining its buttons and sides. Subconsciously, your tongue swept over your top teeth. You lowered your voice as though someone else might overhear.

"The toy...is it for me? I mean, I would hope so. If not, well, we'd have a rather awkward issue."

"Yes, it's for you, baby."

You stifled a grin. How could he have known? That profiling business was really no joke.

"Why?"

His muffled chuckle filtered through, and you could almost see the flash of his pearly whites. You really missed him, so much so that you were conjuring vision of his mouth of his on places that should not be said aloud. 

"I just want to make sure my best girl is taken care of when I'm not home." You could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

You were deep in your fantasy now, your free hand sliding down your shorts as you envisioned him propped against the headboard of his hotel bed, tie hanging loosely, hair tousled just so.

"I'm always taken care of by you, Aaron," you said quietly.

You didn't know how to go about this, whatever this even was. You were treading into unknown territory; never having had phone sex with Aaron--or anyone for that matter.  It was a far cry from the occasional suggestive text.

"That's right." His voice flowed like honey in your ear, causing a shiver as your finger skimmed over your underwear, your breathing momentarily faltering. "You're going to be well taken care of for the rest of your life, yeah?"

"Yeah."

You could hardly breathe, squirming against your own touch, glancing over at the toy that sat beside your hip.

"I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience. You're a good girl, honey. Far too good for me." You weren't. It was the other way around; you didn't deserve him. You told yourself that every day. "I know you get lonely, and I know it's something you'd never admit to."

"Aaron..."

He didn't let you finish. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing right now?"

Your actions came to an abrupt standstill, thumb suspended above your clothed clit. You entertained the thought that this FBI gig might have been a front for a psychic, maybe one of those fortune teller types.

You were mumbling into your sleeve, a private conversation with the threads. "Just...um, well it's hardly worth mentioning, honestly."

Wow you're sure you fooled him.

"I'm not fond of dishonesty." The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor through your core. "I'm giving you a final chance. Tell me what you're doing, sweetheart."

A hard swallow passed your throat, your thumb rubbing idle circles into the band of flesh on your hip. 

"Well, I, uh, was touching myself." The words felt as awkward as they sounded, an internal wince accompanying each syllable at how unsexy you were speaking.

"Where, sweetheart?"

You exhaled sharply at the question, heavy with exasperation at his insistence on drawing this out. But the slickness between your legs was undeniable. Your hand slid back to the delicate skin between your thighs.

"Aaron, please," you breathed out so faintly it was almost inaudible.

He was playing a cruel game, and he knew it. You hardly cussed let alone talk about your lady parts so openly.

"I hope I've never given you a reason to feel judged, honey." There was a sweetness in his voice that masked his darker intentions. "Just tell me where. I want to help."

Your tongue flicked nervously across your lip, your finger dipping into the valley of your folds as you mulled over his offer. You were wet, far more than you had anticipated, practically coating your thighs in the process.

"No, 'course not," you said softly, biting back a sigh as your thumb worked slowly against your inflamed clit. "It's just, you're so far, Aaron."

"Why do you think I got you that toy?" Your gaze darted to the pink thing, resting against your hip. "I want you to use it. I'll walk you through it, just like I would in person."

You could melt. You could liquefy into nothingness on the spot. Your fingers pressed more urgently against yourself, a deep-seated wish for him to be here surfacing, knowing all the while it was a baseless hope.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"There you go, that's my girl."

You couldn't hold back the whimper that fell from your lips as you arched against the bed, fingers diving into your cunt.

"My needy girl," he repeated, his laughter resonating with a patronizing tone that oddly egged you on. "Alright, can you pick up the toy for me?"

You wedged the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, your hand closing around the pink, curved object, scrutinizing its every detail with careful eyes.

"Okay."

It was big, not as big as Aaron, but its dimensions were nonetheless imposing. You felt your chest heave in anticipation, waiting for his instructions.

His silence was stretching your patience thin. You turned it on, and it came to life, watching as it vibrated, the soft buzz permeating the space. You let it trail over your stomach, fabric gathering as your shirt rode up. Nearing your clit, you braced, taking in a quick breath.

But that breath was released in a strangled moan as you pushed the toy firmly into your sopping hole, legs spreading expansively as a taut sensation gripped your center.

"Did I say you could use it already?" he questioned, his tongue clicking in disapproval as you strained against the device, the second prong vibrations coursing against your nub, your whole-body jerking in response.

"N-No, 'M sorry," you panted, your focus narrowing as you pushed to toy in and out, your lips rounding into an 'o'. "It feels really good, Aar."

"I'm sure it does, baby," he teased, his voice carrying a certainty that your own lacked. "Let me hear you fuck yourself with it.

You loved hearing him curse, it was rare, and usually reserved for intimate moments like this. It fueled your actions, your wrist quickening, driving the device deeper, your stomach twisting in tight knots, a loud moan escaping unrestrained, suddenly you were thankful for the distance between Aaron's house and the next.

It felt so good, and yet somehow still not comparable to how it was with Aaron. Weren't you spoiled?

"Miss you so much," you slurred, your movements stuttering as the device worked your body in ways you didn't know were possible.

"Miss you too, angel. You're doing so good."

"Can you, ah, come home, p-please?"

You weren't even sure of what you were saying, all your thoughts on chasing your high and pretending the toy was Aaron's cock. Thinking about how he'd fill you up right now, how he'd press you to the mattress, how his body would cover yours.

"Your present isn't enough?" His tone was taunting, your eyes welling with tears, clouding your vision as your hips bucked against the toy. "That's a shame, sweetheart, think maybe you've been a little spoiled. You can't have my cock all the time."

You were completely dazed, his sentences barely making their way through the fog as you'd like them to. You were crying, you think, hot and relentless tears carving a path down your face as you fucked yourself harder against the toy.

The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, soaked and squishing as you tried to respond to Aaron, but nothing but small hiccups were escaping your mouth.

"It's okay, baby, I know. You're doing so good for me. I can hear it."

Your cheeks and ears flared with a heat that spelled out your shame, but it was the least of your concerns. Your walls tightened against the device, the pressure on your clit suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. Gasping for air, your breaths came out in uneven bursts. When you tried to call out Aaron's name, it emerged as nothing more than a choked sob.

"C-Can I? Please, need to so bad." You weren't entirely convinced you were speaking English, but Aaron understood. 

"Go ahead, sweetheart."

That was all you needed. Your cunt contracted again before vaulting over the edge, nearly losing consciousness in the process, a string of moans and half-said words pouring out of your lips.

You could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were just out of reach, not fully making sense. You felt your body twitch, and you blinked deliberately, once, twice, three times, in an effort to reconnect your body to your mind.

"You're so good, baby. So good. Miss you so much."

You pulled the toy, now soaked, from yourself, cringing at the lewd sound as you laid it beside you, making a mental note to wash the sheets later. Although if Aaron had his way that wouldn't happen.

"I miss you." You hated the way your voice betrayed ever emotion you had.

"Need you to go pee for me, sweetheart."

He sounded so soft and tired, but somehow still present. You let out a soft snicker as you curled onto your side. 

"Can't move my legs," you mumbled, the sound muffled by the way your cheek was squished into the pillow. "Need you to come carry me."

His laugh was something you wished you could bottle up. "Spoiled."

"And who's to blame for that?" You were ready for his witty retort, but it was cut short by the sudden flash of your phone. You squinted at the caller ID. "Sorry, Penelope is calling me, can I call you back in a second?"

"Course, honey. Thank her for the idea, yeah?" Your mouth fell open as you scrambled for the right words. Of course he had heard. "Also, I plan on spending a few solid hours fucking you when I get home, so I suggest you get some rest."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[jeonggukieverse]

So I saw you were taking requests, how about writing on this idea that Jungkook is dating someone (they have been dating for a long time) who would always smile and say it's okay whenever Jk misses out on important things of y/n's life, and the boys would constantly hint that jk should give y/n more time. Jk gets super sad once she realises that he might be not making y/n happy anymore. A fluffy ending please. 💓 I hope this isn't too much ...

Mind & Music

Pairing: Composer Jungkook x Academic Female Reader

Genre: Established relationship, Absolutely Filthy Smut, Fluff, Angsty

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it up babes), mentions impregnation

Word count: 10k+

My first fic in ages! Feels good to be writing again~ This in not proofread because I was to excited to be uploading again hahah.

This request has been in my inbox for ages, thank you for being patient anon. Love ya 

Let me know how you guys like it 

- Ryeon <3

He isn’t here. You half expected him not to be. 

Still, you found yourself gazing into the audience half expecting to see that specific mop of black hair. Again, disappointment pulls at your heart as you still don’t find it.  

You hear your name being called and it snapped you out of your disheartening thoughts. You stood up and walked over to the podium and began your speech. 

“Thank you all for coming out today. It’s a privilege to be presented with this award. I am honoured to be standing here in front of you as the youngest recipient of the universities achievement of the decade award. Though I would not have been able to do this without the support and guidance of- “ 

You pause for a moment as you saw familiar smiling faces staring back at you in the crowd. Yoongi and Tae beamed at you from the back of the auditorium. Even from so far away, you could still feel the smiles radiating from their faces. You mirrored their expressions and met their proud grins with one of your own as you continued your speech. Having them here almost made all of your butterflies flutter away. Almost. Cause only the presence of one person could have caused them to disappear completely. 

After the ceremony was over, you rushed out to find your friends. You spotted them stood by the food table munching on some snacks. Your eyes locked with Tae’s first as you ran towards both men and rugby tackled them both into a giant bear hug. 

“Y/N-ah! Please, be careful! You could have knocked over my cucumber sandwich” You rolled your eyes at Taehyung ‘smocking tone. 

“Cucumber? That’s a little bland for you Kim Taehyung”

“First of all, don’t use my government name in public and second of all, it’s the best option this place has to offer. I mean, I get it, it’s Yonsei’s international focused program so it’s going to cater to foreigners but babe, you are in Korea! Where are the spices? Where is the flavour? Where is the taste?” He ranted while wiggling the pale looking sandwich in his hand. You giggled but you couldn’t deny he was wrong. 

“Hey! As a foreigner, I do not claim this cuisine” You retorted. 

“If you say so” Tae rolled his eyes. 

You shook your head at him then turned your attention to the quiet figure next to you. 

Yoongi smiled and held his hand towards you. 

“The youngest recipient of the achievement of the decade award, huh? Very impressive” 

Coming from anyone else, that sentence would have come out as painfully sarcastic but you knew coming from yoongi, it was the highest compliment he could have bestowed on a human being. You completely ignored his attempt at a hand shake and pulled him into a tight hug instead that he gladly accepted. 

Yoongi was the first friend you had made in Korea. You had met on a language exchange app. He was the only guy you had spoken to that hadn’t asked to go ‘eat ramen’ with you, go ‘see his cat’ or ask you to join a cult. But still you carried pepper spray in your bag when you agreed to meet him at the coffee shop because stranger danger is still a thing. It turns out you didn’t need it cause Yoongi was the sweetest guy you had ever met. Blunt as hell but lovely still. You recalled fondly that upon your first meeting that he had told you that your Korean pronunciation was like an elementary school kid. Did it sting? Absolutely. Was it the last time he would say something like that? Absolutely not. But he made sure you improved and got better. He decided midway through your friendship that learning English was ‘too troublesome’ for him. He had made up his mind that listening to you speak English occasionally was the best way to learn…Sure yoongs. 

It was actually Yoongi that introduced you to your boyfriend. Speaking of 

“So where is he?” 

Yoongi’s smile dropped slightly as he absorbed your change in mood. 

“He’s in the studio with Joon. They’re still working on finalising the soundtrack.” 

You forced a smile on your face, sensing the awkwardness in his voice. 

“Ah, its okay! He’s working, I’m happy he at least has a good excuse! If he was at home playing overwatch or something, I would have been super mad” you said hoping your joking tone would mask your disappointment. 

Taehyung chuckled but you know Yoongi could read you like a book. He knew how you really felt. 

“Let’s go! The rest of the guys said they’d be at the bar, right? I want to show them how cute I look in all my graduation gear. Seokjin is going to die of jealousy cause there is no way in hell he looked this good on his graduation” 

“He’s gonna murder you for even insinuating that” Tae gasped in feigned shock. 

“I’d like to see him try” you sang as you skipped in the middle of the two men. You hooked both of your arms in theirs and pulled them towards the exit. 

“There she is!” 

This was the first thing you heard before you were met with a flurry of applause and cheers as you stepped into the bar. 

You saw the gang sat at your regular booths now decorated with pink and white balloons and confetti. The table adorned with gifts and ‘congratulations banners’. Jimin, Seokjin, Hobi and Jennie stood there holding bottles of champaign. You felt your eyes start to well up, completely touched by the kind gesture. 

“Aww you guys” you spoke, voice wavering. 

“Ha! Pay up Seokjin, I told you Y/N would start crying before she even sat down! Thanks Y/N, you just won me 50000 won” Jennie exclaimed.

“No! Technically, she hasn’t cried! No tears have fallen from her eyes. C’mon Y/N keep it together” Jin begged.

“Sorry Jin, I gotta get my girl her money” You replied, blinking hard so the tears would run down your cheeks.

The group erupted in laughter as Soekjin took out his wallet. 

“That’s enough you two. Tonight, is about Y/N. Congratulations sweetheart.” Jimin said as he pulled you into a hug. You accepted his embrace but you found yourself looking over his shoulder to see if your boyfriend was amongst the crowd. He wasn’t. 

“Yeah, it’s about me! And my goal is to be as drunk as possible by the end of the night!” you proclaimed earning you more cheers from the group. Hopefully if you’re drunk, this feeling of disappointment will eventually go away. 

And it does. After 4 shots of soju, 2 vodka lemonades and a weird cocktail concoction Jimin force fed you, you were feeling better than ever. You were on the dance floor with Jennie having the time of your life. That was until you felt arms wrap around your waist. 

Oh hell no. 

You spun yourself around ready to fight whoever in the hell thought they could touch you unprovoked. Before you could administer your first blow, you were met with a pair of beautifully familiar brown eyes. 

There he was. Jeon Jungkook. 

Your fighting stance shifted as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck to envelop him in a warm hold. You inhaled his scent as he began to lovingly plant soft kisses in the crook of your neck. You felt a familiar fire start to burn at the pit of your stomach. His innocent gesture in your drunken state was igniting a reaction in you that you were eager to explore. 

“I’m sorry baby” he whispered in your ear. 

And just like that, the feeling was gone. At those three words your vagina dried up quicker than the Sahara Desert. Cause as quickly as you had forgotten, you were reminded once again that he had let you down again. But could you be mad? He was working. This had been his dream since he was a little kid and they were so close to finalising this project, they just needed to finish to complete some final composition. Could you be mad at him? You decide once again, that you couldn’t. Once again, you put his needs before yours. You pulled away from his shoulder and met his face. You plastered a fake smile on and put on another show. 

“Baby, don’t be silly! Don’t worry about it, you’re here now, that’s all that matters.” 

“Thank you, baby. I’ll make it up to you” 

“I know you will” 

And he did. 

The next day, Jungkook took you out to a beautiful dinner to celebrate your achievement. You loved him and you appreciated the gesture, you always did. But you couldn’t help still feeling hurt. 

You supported Jungkook, you always had and you always would. 

It’s funny to think about how devoted you were to him considering how rocky your fist interaction was.

Jungkook was Yoongi’s roommate. You and yoongi had been friends now for about four months before he finally decided to invite you over to his apartment. You had to say, this made you very nervous because Yoongi had always been such a private guy. You knew enough about him to say that you were friends but he always kept himself to himself. This was a part of him that was refreshing to you, really. He was excellent at establishing boundaries. You’ve never had a friend like that before. He was very mature but also very kind and very sweet. So, when he invited you over to game night with his friends you were ecstatic. It’s finally felt like he let you in and that you became real friends. 

And as excited as you were, you were equally nervous. Yoongi had told you bits and pieces about his friends but he assured you they were all really nice. 

You were still on edge but you assured yourself that you were a pleasant person! You had come out of your shell so much in the last couple of months. Your introverted personality had been spun on its head and you were now someone completely different. The constant support from Yoongi and your advancements in your career had made you feel absolutely unstoppable. 

And isn’t it amazing? How months of character development can be wiped away in 2 seconds. 

As soon as you walked into Yoongi’s apartment, you wished you could walk right back out because the second your eyes met with Jeon Jungkook it was very apparent, he did not like you. Like, at all. 

The boy, who had previously been laughing and talking to his friend, made eye contact with you and completely shut down. The smile fell from his face and his body suddenly became stiff and rigid. He looked at you for a millisecond before tearing away eye contact completely. 

You tried to ignore him. You really did because the rest of Yoongi’s friends were so cool. They made you feel welcome and you felt almost at ease. But still, your consciousness couldn’t help but wonder over to the pale, inked up boy stood in the kitchen dressed in an oversized t-shirt and ripped black denim. 

As much as you tried to ignore it, his coldness didn’t alleviate through the night as you’d hoped. In fact, not only did it not get better; it got worse as the night went on. As everyone kept drinking more and more you felt yourself become a little bolder. What was this guys problem? You haven’t done anything to him, he had no reason to be this hostile to you.

You raised this with Namjoon, another one of Yoongi’s roommates, who assured you that Jungkook was always a little weary of strangers. He was a shy person that had great difficulty adjusting to new people. His advice was to give him time to warm up to you and when you felt ready, try and start a casual conversation. 

But it wasn’t as if you hadn’t tried that. You’d made several attempts through the night to try and speak to him to at least extend the olive branch but each time he refused running away from you as if you had some kind of disease. You were sick of it.

You saw him alone on the balcony a few hours later and realised that this was your chance. You marched up to the doors and slipped out to give this guy a piece of your mind. Hearing the noise behind him Jungkook turned his head to be met with you. Again, panic started to run through his body as he tried to make an escape around you but you would not let him. 

“What is your problem?! What did I do to you why are you so weird towards me? I know Yoongi and Namjoon said that you are very selective with your friends and that’s cool but I don’t know what I did to make you dislike me so much. Fucking hell, we just met today! What could I possibly have done that hurt your feelings so much?!” You yelled at him. Your words slightly slurred. Liquid courage was really on your side tonight cause there was no way in hell sober Y/N could yell at him like this. Especially hear on the balcony, his beautiful face illuminated by the moonlight. And the way the evening breeze ruffled through his dark locks made him look like an actual prince.  

“Woah, where did you get the impression that I didn’t like you?”

Huh?! 

His almost idiotic question quickly snapped you out of your thoughts. Was he being serious right now? Or is he just making fun of you?

“Are you kidding me? You haven’t looked at me the entire night, you haven’t introduced yourself and every time I come over to you to try and get some kind of conversation going you run off. Now tell me why are you doing all of that and not speaking to me like a normal human being !?”

“Because I think you’re pretty! And I’m intimidated by you!”

Eh? 

You remained silent for what felt like forever. Did he really just say that or did you just imagine it? No, there is no way he woul- 

“Jesus Christ, say something! Anything!” He huffed. Now putting the half empty beer bottle to his lips to stop his mouth from humiliating him even further. 

Well, Jungkook thought, if he’s going to humiliate himself may as well fully go for it. 

“You think Yoongi hasn’t told us about you? He’s told us how incredible you are. About how you’re a transfer student at the most prestigious college in Korea. About how you’re on track to be the recipient for the ‘biggest brain ever in the whole century award’ or whatever its called. He made you sound so cool; I was banking on you at least being a little bit of an asshole but again, Yoongi’s stories proved us wrong. He told us about how you willing let a random little girl sit next to you for 2 hours at a café because she wanted to practice speaking to you to improve her English. And if im being honest, the more I heard the more I wanted to meet you but when you came in today, looking as fucking beautiful as you do. Which Yoongi coincidentally forgot to mention which is funny cause he mentioned every- fucking -thing else. When you came in…”

He paused and let out a sigh. Breathing for what seemed like the first time since beginning his outburst. 

“…When you came in, I realised how far away from me you were. And I dint have any business even speaking to you. We wouldn’t have anything in common and it would make me realise how inadequate I actually am”.

There was a pause again. Slowly, you began to let out a small giggle. Your small giggle quickly erupted into a full-bodied belly laugh. Your stomach began to hurt and your eyes began to water. You had to lean on the balcony door for support as you surely felt you would pass out. 

During your breakdown, Jungkook could only stare at you his head tilted to the side like a confused bunny. His eyes fell to the floor as your laughter pierced him like a knife and was the cherry on top of his mortification. 

“And you think Yoongi hasn’t told me about you, Jeon Jungkook?” You asked as your laughter subsided. 

“Jeon Jungkook, the musical prodigy. The Jeon Jungkook that could play the piano before he could even walk. The Jeon Jungkook that everyone refers to as the Golden Maknae because you’re so good at everything. Your friends are very vocal about not just your talents in your field but also socially. Apparently, you’re the reason you guys even exist as a friend group. You were the one to make friends with each of them and bring them all together. Do you know how impressive that is?! But I’m intimidating cause I’m a little smart and I’m not mean to children? You are something else Jeon Jungkook.” 

Jungkook paused again. A chuckle escaped his mouth as his laughter then began to mimic yours. You joined him again as both of you stood on the balcony laughing with or at each other. You must have looked like maniacs but at the time both of you were too buzzed to care. 

Either way, this broke the ice between both of you as you were both able to bypass each other’s extensive achievements and finally got to know each other as people.

You’ll never forget that night. You and Jungkook sat on that balcony from 10pm to 7am, long after the others had left or gone to bed. Just talking about anything and everything until you both reached a comfortable silence.

And as the sun was rising, welcoming a brand-new morning you nudged Jungkook’s hand. His head lazily turned towards yours and he met you with a dimpled smile. 

“For what it’s worth” You smiled back. 

“I think you’re pretty and I’m intimidated by you too” 

That was 5 years ago and you and balcony boy have been inseparable ever since. You had now been there for every single important moment in each other’s life. Well…Almost.

3 years ago, Jungkook and Namjoon got the opportunity to produce a music score for a short film. Despite the films small budget, it managed to exceed all expectations and ended up getting nominated for a golden globe! You were ecstatic and so fucking proud of him. You felt like his talents and hard work were finally getting realised.

Little did you know it would be a bittersweet moment for yours and Jungkook’s relationship. Naturally as more eyes were on the film, more ears were listening to the soundtrack. This had your boyfriend pulled off to here there and everywhere in front of directors and movie studios all interested in investing in the musical duo. And finally they had been hired to compose an entire score to a new movie for a huge studio! This movie in particular, Jungkook had begged and pleaded for. He said the scrip and film premise really spoke to him and were perfect and he needed to compose this movie. This was such a huge deal for them and again you were over the moon. But there were downsides. During the first year after their debut you saw Jungkook 10 times that whole year. You spoke almost every day but almost every conversation ended in an argument. It was either and argument about you feeling neglected or him not feeling supported and it sucked. It really took a toll on both of you. 

The second year was much better. This time for a bit more of a selfish reason. The film studio had its own recording studio in Seoul only a 20-minute walk from yours and Jungkook’s apartment! He was finally able to be home more and you could actually spend time together. And so you did. 

Honestly, the first 6 months Jungkook was back home all you guys did was fuck. It was constant and almost none stop. You fucked in every room of the house at all hours of the day. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other. 

There was a day you both decided to take a break from having sex and just play some video games together. It took you both all of 5 minutes before sonic was long forgotten about and you were bent over the sofa. 

It was very romantic really. But even that joy was short lived. 

Jungkook prioritised his art. That was one thing you’d always respected and admired about him. Even the way he talked about music that wasn’t his, he painted the emotions of the music into words to explain to you the way a piece made him feel. He could describe to you in detail the way the crescendos bend in the moments before it’s about to fall. About how the vibrations of the violins is the most romantic sound ever to grace the human consciousness. He was an artist through and through. His music was him and he was his music. They were one and could not be separated. But that raised a question for you:

Where did you fit in? 

This is what made the dinner you were on now very melancholic. It was to make up for him missing your award acceptance. 

He was sorry. You knew he was but you couldn’t ignore that this was your forth make up dinner this year: First was your birthday, second was your anniversary, third was dinner with your parents (that they had specifically flown out to Korea for) and the forth was the award. The award he knew you were on track to get before he’d even met you. The award you’d poured your heart into getting and the one you’d sacrificed so much for. But he was sorry, right? Plus, he had promised to make it up to you. Next week your professor had invited you to the university to give a special lecture to other projected recipients of the award you’d just achieved. It was a high honour as these students were the best and the brightest students from countries all over the world and of all the recipients to give the lecture, they had requested you! There have been recipients before you that had gone on to win Nobel Peace Prizes but they had specifically requested you. And Jungkook was so proud of you.

“Are you okay, little mouse? You seem a little quiet tonight”. Jungkook asked, genuine concern apparent on his face. 

“I’m just thinking bunny boy.”

“About me?” He winked at you, almost cartoonishly. 

“Bunny boy, how can you cross my mind if you never leave it” you winked back at him with the same playfully cartoonish obnoxiousness. 

“Ooh that’s going on my list” 

For the past 5 years of your relationship Jungkook has been keeping a list of things you say to him that makes him smile. This list has always confused you cause it would always be the silliest stuff. Once, when he was sleeping, you went and snooped through his notes app just to see this list and you couldn’t believe it. You were expecting the most romantic phrases or compliments that fluffed his ego but instead, the top three (out of four thousand!) were:

“I’d fight a microwave for you”

“You smell like home” 

“I think you’re pretty and I’m intimidated by you too” 

You woke him up immediately to ask about it. But his only defence was they were phrases you said that make him smile. You’re understanding of his list was ‘irrelevant’ to him. 

God, you loved him. 

“You’re so silly. But seriously Kookie; don’t worry, I’m good. Plus, you’re the one who’s been talking my ear off all night. I’m surprised you’ve even noticed me being quite” You quipped playfully, taking a sip of your wine. 

“Ooh, someone’s feisty tonight. I forgot what red wine does to you” He quipped back; eyebrows now raised highlighting the metal bar that accented it. 

God, he was cool.

“How could you forget? The first time we met I was wine drunk” 

“Ah yes, how could I forget. You get very mouthy off of red wine. Don’t worry, I know how I can put that mouth to good use” 

“Jeon Jungkook!” You yelled at him in a whisper.  Eyes darting around to see if anyone had heard your boyfriends lewd comment. Luck for you the other couples around you’re were too infatuated with their partners to even notice you guys. 

“Well, while were in pubic, put that mouth to better use and tell me about your day” he said, now leaning back in his chair. 

“Well, my day was pretty calm actually. It makes a change. I was walking Ban and bumped into Holly and Yoongi. We were talking about next week and he asked if he could bring a plus one. Wink, wink” 

“A plus one! Is Yoongi dating?! In the 12 years I’ve known the guy he has never shown romantic interest in anyone. I can’t even imagine his type. Did he give you any information”?! 

“Nah, you know how he is. Yoongi will only let you know what he wants you to know” 

“True. What’s going on next week?” 

You paused for a second and started chuckling. He was kidding. He had to be. 

The smile then fell from your face when he didn’t share in your laughter. 

“Oh my god you’re serious? You forgot about my lecture”?!

He gasped and began coughing as the bite of steak he had just put into his mouth had just gone down the wrong pipe.

“Of course not baby, how could I forget something so important to you” he continued to splutter. 

You stared back at him. The good mood you had felt a moment ago had completely evaporated. You waited for him to gain his composure so he could explain himself cause boy he had some explaining to do. 

“Just for giggles and fun and jokes, what date is your lecture again?” 

“The fifteenth” you said, shortly. 

His face fell and his eyes stayed stuck on his plate.

“Baby…Please don’t hate me. That’s the night we have the final run through of the soundtrack with the director. I can’t miss that…I’m so s- “

“You’re so sorry. Im sure you are.” You stood up. 

You grabbed your purse and you stormed out away from him. You could hear him calling your name but the burn of your throat as you fought back the tears overpowered his calls. 

How could he? No, how could you? How could you ever expect anything different. You will always be second to his first love and that was a pain you had to learn to live with. 

The moment you left the restaurant and the cold air of the night hit your face you decided to just let the tears fall. You sobbed as you walked further and further away from him. 

You heard the rhythmic pounding of laced up docks hitting the pavement behind you. 

“Y/N please I’m sorry. Just let me explain…”

“No! There is nothing you could say that would fix this! I have always been there for you! I have supported you from the very beginning! Every piece of music you have ever played for me I have cherished as if it were my own and you used to support me too! At my first presentation you were there. Cheering at the top of your lungs in a silent room. You used to be my number one cheerleader but now when all I ask of you, is to just show up? You can’t do it. And every chance I give you to fix it. You let me down. Jungkook, I need some time away from you. I’m going to be staying with Yoongi for a few days”. 

You said nothing more. You spun around and walked the 2 minutes to Yoongi’s apartment. And true to your word you stayed with them till the day before your lecture. 

Despite being a creative Jungkook worked like clockwork. Every single day at the same 3 times a day Jungkook would try to call you. The call was always followed by an ‘I love you’ text but today was different. After the second call of the day the text that followed said:

“I know this is such a fucking reach and such a huge ask but would you mind swinging around our apartment today at around 3? Director Anderson would like to speak to you. I know you probably still need your space so I’ll be in the apartment but I’ll be in the bedroom. I’ll come out only when you’ve left, I promise. Please come” 

He really had some fucking nerve. That ‘please come’ at the end of his text almost sent your blood boiling. 

“You should talk to him,” said a familiar voice. 

Your turned your whole body around on the sofa so Yoongi could see your eyes roll at his suggestion. 

“Yoongs, I feel like it shouldn’t be me your having this conversation with. You should try telling him not to break commitments to people” 

“Oh I have! That’s why I’m telling you, you need to speak to him. I know it’s none of my business but I think you guys just need to talk it out. And even if you don’t have anything to say, at least hear the boy out” he finalised before turning on his heels and heading back into his room. 

That wasn’t the speech you were expecting but it did calm you down enough to re-read Jungkook’s text. Your boiling rage had now been replaced with intrigue and curiosity. The meeting was requested by the director of the film? This was very unusual. You had heard about the director in passing but you had never spoken directly before. But you had decided that you were going to go. You we determined to look the man who practically stole your boyfriend for years in the face and lecture him about respecting his colleagues work/life balance! Plus it will be good practice for your lecture tomorrow. Two birds, one stone. 

It would be an absolute lie to say that you weren’t missing Jungkook. You knew the apartment would smell like him and you hoped you may be able to swipe one of his t-shirts to sleep in before you leave. 

You ubered over to your apartment and stood before the oak front door feeling oddly nervous. To took a shaky breath and inserted the passcode: 5318008 (you and Jungkook were children at heart cause you both laughed for hours after agreeing upon the code).

Upon hearing the beeping of the lock to confirm the door was unlocked you pushed it open. You stepped in, removed your shoes and couldn’t help the solemn smile that crept onto your face. Jungkook’s scent hit you as soon as you entered the room. 

God, you missed him. 

You strode inside and were met with a recognisable figure sitting upright on your sofa. His back stood tall and his hair was a mousy brown colour. It was so bizarre seeing him here. There was an uncanny feeling, seeing this man you knew but had never met sat in your living room.

He must have felt you staring at him because his head soon whipped around. 

“Y/N. So nice to finally meet you.” He stood up and walked over to you shoving his hand out towards you. You shook it hesitantly. His hands were cold and clammy but his eyes were warm. He was tall and chubby but he wasn’t foreboding, in fact he seemed rather friendly Damnit. You wanted him to be an asshole, it would have made telling him what was on your mind so much easier. 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mr Anderson” you said as coldly as you could muster. 

“Mr Anderson is so formal, just call me James. Although its strange. We’re meeting for the first time but it feels as if I have already met you” His German accent becoming more apparent as he spoke. 

“And why is that?”

“Ah, that is why I asked Jungkook to invite you over. Although it does feel strange extending you an invitation to your home” he chuckled to himself. 

He invited you to sit down on the couch, it was only then that you noticed a laptop connected to your TV. 

“What’s all this?” you asked. Genuinely curious. 

“I have a little something for you to watch. It may make explaining why I asked you hear a little more apparent. Please, have a seat my dear” he guided you to the sofa as you plopped yourself down. Eyes glued to the screen. 

You anticipated what would happen next when a familiar tune began to play. You knew it was Jungkook’s composition as soon as you heard it. Suddenly an animated mouse popped up on the screen. She was in the wings of a stage, obviously nervous but she strolled out into the spotlight in front of a stoic audience of other animals. Just as she was about to speak there was suddenly a loud whooping from the crowd that interrupted the slow score. It was a bunny. A bunny with banners and whistles and confetti and he was cheering for her. The others in the audience told him to be quite but he exclaimed ‘That’s my girlfriend’ still as proud as can be. 

The trailer played on and you slowly started to get it. It was you. This little mouse was you. Tears welled up in your eyes as yours and Jungkook’s entire relationship began to play in front of you. All your highs and your lows. It was beautiful and the accompaniment of his music made the tears pour from your eyes until it was over. 

You turned back to James and attempted to speak but only blubbers could come out. 

“Let me explain Y/N. When Jungkook and Namjoon came out to LA to play some stuff for the studio the only thing the boy would speak about, other than music, was you my dear. Jungkook and I sat for hours speaking about you. He told these elaborate stories about how you met, who you are and about the adventures you got into together. It was indeed very fascinating to me, you almost seemed like a heroine in his very own story. He bragged about your achievements almost as if they were his own. According to him, you are the smartest woman on the planet my dear and he would not be told otherwise. Oh, congratulations on the achievement of the decade award! And the youngest recipient at that? Incredible work my dear, just incredible. Jungkook went into great detail about what a huge deal that was. Needless to say the day after the networking event I went home and began writing the script for ‘Mouse & Bunny – Mind & Music’. I had just never seen someone so passionate about another person. His passion for you far outweighs his passion for his craft, that much was apparent, it was awe inspiring and I had to bring It to the screen. I think that is why Jungkook fought so hard to be the lead composer for the soundtrack. He wanted to intertwine the two loves of his life”. 

You sat there in complete shock for a moment before jumping into James’s arms and engulfed him into a hug. His moustache tickled your shoulder as he chuckled and said he was happy to have cleared things up. As he packed up his laptop, he was asking you so many questions, probably attempting to confirm the validity of Jungkook’s stories: 

“Did you really fight a microwave” 

“I most certainly did” 

“Did you really use protein powder as flour for a cake?” 

“I most certainly did” 

“Did you really not know the earth went around the sun?” 

“That son of a-… no comment” 

He snorted as he packed up the last of his things. You walked him to the door but he turned to you before saying his final goodbyes. 

“Y/N, it seems wrong for me to give the final approval for the soundtrack. I’ve heard it and I know it’s the most beautiful accompaniment to the film but it seems only fitting that the muse gets to give the final say so. Take the afternoon to listen to it and pass your notes to Jungkook. If you like it, I’ll approve it. So there should be no need for my originally planned final listen tomorrow. Jungkook seemed like he wanted to attend something much more important tomorrow anyway” He winked at you as he closed your door. 

You didn’t even wait for the door to fully shut before you were sprinting to your shared bedroom.

The pitter patter of your bare feet slapping the wood floor could almost not be heard over the beating of your heart. You bust open the door to see the love of your live leaning over his piano. 

You must have given him such a fright as his big boba eyes were the first to greet you. 

“Y/N I-“

You crashed your lips onto his, completely cutting him off. 

“I am the stupidest person in the world.” 

Jungkook laughs, standing up beside you. 

“No little mouse, why do you say that” he said with a soft smile while he caressed your tear-stained face. 

“I don’t know why I didn’t just ask! I’m so- “

“Even if you asked, I probably wouldn’t have told you. I wanted things to be a surprise. But baby, first I needed to apologise, like really apologise” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for” 

“Yes, I do. Ever since I met you, you brought light into my world. I wanted to express to you my love in the best way I knew how and this project, to me, was the best way for me to put into the world how I felt about you. But I was selfish, I took my expression of love and put it above all the things I knew you had work so hard to achieve. In a way, I put my love above yours and I will forever be sorry and I can assure you, it won’t happen again. I love you Y/N L/N” 

You reward his confession with another kiss, pulling him into your arms soon after. 

you sighed, almost longingly. “Whatever shall I do with my bunny boy?” 

“Whatever shall I do with my little mouse?” Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear, drawing soothing circles on your hip. 

He gently placed you down against your mattress. You clung to him and giggled  

You stay quiet, appreciating the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. 

God, he smelled good. 

“Okay,” he purrs, caressing your hip as he repositioned himself more securely. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh? A week away? It felt more like a lifetime” You nodded in response. Terrified that if you spoke, your voice would fail you.

Jungkook shifted, the hand that was previously on your hip swiftly fell over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my smart girl?” he hums as his hand slipped between your thighs. “My smart, pretty, intimidating girl?” 

Your eyes flutter closed and you revel in the feeling of him running his fingers over the front of your panties. Your toes curl at the sudden pressure.

“Ah,” you hissed.

“Hmm?” he says, mouthing against the crook of your neck. His mouth feels so warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “My smart girl doesn’t have anything smart to say?” 

“N-No,” you tried to scoff back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands were getting braver now as he slipped his hand beneath your waistband, and touched your wet heat head on. “Baby.”

Jungkook chuckled at your immediate submission for his touch and took the opportunity to connect his mouth back you yours. You whimpered in surprise, legs trembling as he gets to work circling your hardening bud. Your thighs are squirming, clenching around his hand every few moments. 

You bit down a whine. “I was just…” you trailed off as he teased his index and middle fingers against your opening. 

“Just what baby? Just thinking?” he said as he finally pushed himself off of you and propped himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze became a familiar dark. He moved at a godlike speed as he snatched his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs. 

Jungkook pulled away from you and rolled his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins pulling off his shirt. You had to stop yourself from drooling at the sight of him. 

He threw his shirt off to the side of the bed, his sleeve of tattoos that wrapped around his bicep and crawled down his chest were wonderfully free now. “My eyes are up here, little mouse” he said and your eyes immediately shot back up to meet his gaze. He leaned towards you, muscled arms coming to cage you in against the headboard. 

“No one is looking at your eyes bunny boy” you attempted to quip back. Completely failing to mask the tremor in your voice. Jungkook always had a way of making you feel powerless under his gaze when he was on top of you like this. 

His hand grabbed beneath your knee and yanked you unforgivingly until you were slumped down onto your back with a squeak. You settled with his knee pressed directly against your core. Jungkook stayed towering over you. 

He placed his hand gently around the base of your neck as he leaned in to properly grind his thigh into you. “Is that right? No one’s looking at my eyes, huh?” he murmured darkly, thumb pressing a little harder into the side of your neck. You sobbed, soaked panties rubbing roughly against his leg. 

“Are you gonna touch me?” you interrupted, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook pursed his lips together in thought. 

“Hmmm,” he hummed. “Not too sure yet.”

You whined. “Jungkook, please,” you whimpered, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckled, running his hand up your waist and taking your dress with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouthed at your neck. “Cute,” he cooed. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You trembled, chest heaving into him as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gulped. “You just do it better.” Jungkook followed your admission with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

You mewled in response, determined not to give him the satisfaction of answering his question. Cause you both new the answer was yes. He made you cum so much better than you could.

“Remove your clothes for me...” he whispered gruffly yet sweet as he pulled himself from you. 

You hurriedly removed the rest of your clothes you caught Jungkook’s mouth falling open in awe at the semi-nude sight of you before him. After finally removing your bra and panties, you threw them to the floor with the rest of your clothes, you observed how he licked his lips shamelessly as he took in the view of your beautifully perky nipples that drove him absolutely insane. You looked into his deep eyes, catching your bottom lip in between your teeth and Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from palming his cock over the confinements of his pants – watching you get worked up just for him. 

“Are we that type of couple, Jungkook?” you whispered his name sweetly as you slowly climb on top of him. You straddled him, pushing your breasts flush against his chest.

“Which type are you referring to?” he murmured back as his hand moved back to between your thighs – feeling the damp patch of your essence now overflowing. You felt his cock pulsate in anticipation.

“The ones who have an argument, then have angry make up sex?” you giggled as you began pressing soft, delicate kisses along his neck. Jungkook’s eyes shut tightly as he felt your teeth nip at him – causing a breath of air to leave his lungs while you began sucking on his skin – leaving your mark on him. The next thing you knew, Jungkook pulled your mouth away from his neck and flipped you over. He was now hovering over you and began continuing on you what you had started on him

“Jungkook...” you let his name occupy your mouth and your thoughts as he suckled on your skin – alternating between kissing you, biting you and dragging his teeth further south to your boobs.

“Let us see how much of a good girl you can be for me...” you suddenly felt his breath dangerously close to the mound between your legs, before his hands began kneading and gripping at your ass-cheeks. Jungkook moved his face right into you – just shy of his nose touching your folds from behind as he took in your sweet scent. He wanted to devour you whole – but at the same time, he wanted nothing more than to hear you beg and plead for your own pleasure and release. You trembled at the contact of his index finger running along your slippery lips, feeling it hastily stroke your bud before he pulled it back down again – repeating the same action over and over.

 Jungkook smirked at the noises coming from you; whimpers of frustration, want and need. He knew you were like putty in his hands with the way your lewd wetness heavily coated his finger; and he would have wanted it no other way.

“Please Jungkook...please stop teasing me – I need you so fucking badly I – “you rolled your head to the opposite side – placing your blazing cheek against the pillow in an attempt to extinguish the apparent fire that was burning your entire face. You knew he was making you wait for it – and you both simultaneously loved and hated it in a hundred different ways. 

You breathed a sigh of relief, along with moans of satisfaction as his tongue continued to explore every inch of you. The scandalous sounds from his tongue and his lips filled the room as he continued to consume you. 

“I’m so close Jungkook – fuck...” you moaned a string of further curses as he sped up his movements – his finger now wiggling heavily over your clit as his tongue probed you even deeper than before.

“Are you really?” he hummed, slowing his pace as you whined in response. “Hmm...I can’t have you coming undone on me just yet little mouse...where’s the fun in that? Plus, I had to wait a whole week for you to come back. Do you think I would let you cum so quickly?” he grinned coyly as he moved away from you – licking the remainder of you off his lips as you damn near cried out in anger at being denied your orgasm when it was seconds away.

God, he’s such an asshole. 

“You can cry and whine all you want...but you’re not getting anything unless I think you deserve it; do you understand me, baby?” he cooed with the heaviest form of sarcasm you had ever heard as he began coating his erection with your wetness – giving himself a few strokes as he smirked and watched you squirm in defeat underneath him. You rolled your eyes to the back of your head, before turning onto your stomach as fast as you could to avoid his arrogant gaze. 

As you laid faced away from him, all you could feel was the thick width of his cock resting between your cheeks as Jungkook took it upon himself to slowly grind himself into you – giving him the minimal amount of pleasure and you the maximum amount of excruciating frustration.

“Yes! I understand...please...I’ll do anything, please!” you shamelessly pleaded – hearing the desperation in your own voice as you moved your ass backwards into him. Jungkook chuckled before he began sprinkling light kisses the whole way up your spine – the fleeting feeling of his lips leaving damp patches on your skin being enough to make it feel like he was burning you with desire for more of him.

“Good girl” Jungkook praised you – letting you feel the tip of his cock resting just on top your drenched entrance. And – without warning, he quickly eased himself in as far as he could go; hearing you let out breathy moans and whimpers as he pressed deeper.  

“Louder” he commanded as he leaned back – looking down to view his member leave your tight walls – much to both of your displeasures. “I want the entire world to know who’s fucking your pussy like this right now” he slammed back inside you, feeling your slickness engulf him as your screams filled the room. 

“That’s it Y/N, that’s my good girl” Jungook growled as he began pounding you into you at an unforgiving pace. You cried and sobbed feeling his cock reach deeper inside you with each time his skin smacked against yours. Jungkook relished in the look of your ass every time it bounced off his lower abdomen as he continued pummelling into you mercilessly – when he saw your hand reach back to try and hold his. Knowing that you needed to feel the security of his grasp, Jungkook leaned over your back and laced his fingers with yours – giving you fast, deep strokes of his cock while you felt it slam against your precious nerves inside you. Jungkook knew you were already on the verge of letting go from the way your voice got louder and higher – along with your walls constricting around his member so tightly that he had to almost hold his breath to not finish before you.

“Cum for me – you earned it sweetheart, let go and let me hear your beautiful voice” he cooed into your ear. And, like his words were the only thing that could set you free, you came hard around him while you closed your eyes tight as you felt your orgasm pour out of you. Jungkook coaxed you through your cries of ecstasy as he slowed his thrusts down – still keeping their depth while his groans harmonised with your own voice in the wake of your pleasure. And, just as quickly as it came, your high left your body – leaving you slumped face down into the pillow with no will to do much else other than breathe. You felt Jungkook slowly slide out of you – feeling the emptiness he left behind while he began pulling you up and back into his chest, his hands then roaming over every inch of your skin he could find.

“Did that feel good, baby?” he purred, nibbling on the bottom of your ear and letting you know that he was still standing to attention with the way his member pressed into your ass. You let out an airy chuckle, still not able to maintain a coherent train of thought.

“Mmhm” you hummed, reaching behind you to let your hand rest on the back of his neck, letting your fingers get lost in his hair as Jungkook dotted your neck with kisses once more.

“I can’t get enough of you – no matter how much you give me, no matter how much I take...” he murmured on top of your skin, making you shiver from head to toe and smile from ear to ear.

“What are you waiting for then, bunny boy?” you replied, turning around to him and coming face to face with his dark hooded eyes. “I want you to take more...take me, Jungkook” you mewled as Jungkook’s hands began caressing all his favourite parts of you – your hips and the tops of your thighs included. 

You swapped positions and you positioned yourself on top him. As you did, Jungkook quickly pulled his legs underneath your bottom before crossing them below you, while you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist so that you were both in a sort of Lotus Flower position. You looked down, seeing his head perfectly level with your tits as he began kissing and nipping at your hardened nipples – making you reel from the sensitive sensation that coursed through you. You observed his hand as it slipped underneath you – grabbing a hold of his pulsating member and angling it right before your welcoming entrance once again.

“Baby...aren’t you forgetting something?” you questioned immediately in reference to the fact that he was about to enter you whilst you both found yourself in the most romantic baby-making position known to man. Jungkook shook his head as he looked up into your eyes, his stare completely melting you from the inside out.

“I want to feel you when I cum inside you...I want to make you mine in every way possible...will you let me?” his husky voice travelled to every single part of your soul as you let your mouth hang agape. 

“But – what if...you know?” you replied, wondering how he felt about the most obvious thing that could happen from not using protection. 

“You have nothing to worry about, Y/N” he whispered softly, feeling himself press against your small opening as the tip of his cock became engulfed by your slick tightness. “’If it happens, it happens. I would want no other woman to mother my children” you both let out an intense moan in turn as he pushed his way inside you. When Jungkook thought about you carrying his first child and bringing the product of your love into the world; with him becoming a father and you becoming a mother, it filled him with delicate feelings of paternal happiness he knew he could never feel with anyone else but you. 

You bit your lip hard as you rolled your hips at a rhythmical pace into his – feeling every inch of him curving inside you. Jungkook placed one hand below your bottom, while cradling your back with his free arm as a means to let you set the pace of your love making, but still letting him have full control over your every movement. You felt wave after wave of pleasure strike you as your clit moved flush against Jungkook’s body that was tight against yours; and your moans continued to spill from your lips as he looked up into your face – his eyes full of life and love as he seemingly peered right into your soul. In contrast to Jungkook’s way of asserting himself over you just moments ago, you could see the vulnerability in his eyes as he let his mouth hang open – panting and groaning at the feeling of pleasure from being inside you and so close to you.

“I love you...so much, Jungkook” you managed to speak – feeling your body almost grow limp from having little to no energy left as you felt your sweat drip down your temples. Sensing your exhaustion, Jungkook helped you lay down on your back to the bed – keeping himself still lodged inside you as he rested himself between your legs. His thrusts were slow, deep and meaningful as he pressed his forehead to yours and took your hands in his – pinning them to the bed while he felt your pulse rocket as he pushed you once again to your second orgasm of the evening. You felt like the entire world was spinning as you attempted to moan and writhe in fulfilment – but unfortunately, no sound left your mouth as you produced a silent cry in the wake of Jungkook’s pleasure-filled stokes that reached deeper and deeper within you.

“And I... I love you Y/N” Jungkook’s lips found yours for the millionth time as he felt himself twitch inside of you – his entire seed mixing with your juices as he came deep within you. He tensed every single one of his muscles, letting you swallow each of his moans as he slowed down gently.

“I’m so happy that you’re mine...” he almost whimpered as his movements ceased – before letting himself collapse on top of you, resting his head in the crook of your neck while you raised your arms up and over his back to hug him even closer to you.

“And I’m so happy that you’re mine, too” you kissed the top of his head – still feeling his cock buried inside of you as you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. 

Jungkook raised his head a fraction to look at you – his appearance both thoughtful and endearing as he held on to you. “I really am sorry Y/N. I never want you to feel like your aren’t a priority to me” he blinked gently as you continued to listen to his heartfelt, post love making thoughts.

“I know” you replied quietly, tracing the muscles along his back with your fingers. “And I’m sorry too. I guess we both just need to communicate a little better”.

“My Y/N – You are my world. You – you are my everything. I used to not understand what people meant when they said that to someone they loved, because before you – I thought music was my only love. But every day I spend with you, you give me a hundred more reasons to adore you. I promise I will spend the rest of my life trying to prove that.”

You felt yourself well up at his words of endearment. He really was your world and you now knew for a fact that you were his too. 

“Ooh, I forgot to say” you interrupted yours and Jungkook post love making silence. 

“James said I could approve the soundtrack for our film” 

Jungkook smiled to himself upon hearing you refer to it as your film. 

“If that’s what James said, who am I to undermine the director.” He declared. 

“The songs are on my phone in the Media Folder but im gonna hop in the shower while you listen. Cause it will break my heart if you don’t like them” he chuckled, half joking half serious. 

“I know im going to love them babe. But you go and take your shower, I’ll be right here when you come out”. 

He left with a smile. 

You scrolled through his phone to find the music files and tears began to fill your eyes once again as you read the tracklist: 

“I’d fight a microwave for you”

“You smell like home” 

“I think you’re pretty and I’m intimidated by you too” 

And the list went on. It was his list. His list of your phrases that made him smile. Before you could even finish reading the tracklist, you ran to the shower you embrace your bunny boy and show him for a second round how much you loved him. 

Although, if you had taken just a few moments to read the tracklist, Jungkook is sure you would have loved the last song on the soundtrack. It was the only title that wasn’t you contribution, it was his: 

12. “I hope she’ll marry me”

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

Hope ya'll enjoyed it! My requests are open, feel free to send em across :)

[giuliettagaltieri]

Dollhouse

Pairing: President!Coriolanus Snow x Capitol!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: The Skeptic

Warning: alcohol, doubts

Word Count: 1602

1 of 7

You were looking exceptionally beautiful tonight.

It was the inauguration of President Coriolanus Snow.

Everybody was present, the entire party buzzing with joy and pride for the new leader of Panem.

“Congratulations, Miss Swansworth.”  A familiar wariness has you narrowing your eyes and putting on a sharp smile.

“Dr. Gaul.”  You greet the woman who sits next to you.  “Thank you, but this is about President Snow.”

She reaches for a glass of posca.  Her heterochromic eyes are watching you closely.  “We both know that Mister Snow owes his victory to you.”

You raise your own glass and smile at her knowingly as a silent toast and you take a sip.

Coriolanus was stolen from you the minute you stepped into the party.  You encouraged him to establish relationships with Capitol’s most powerful men.  And you managed to evade people for quite some time as you blend in on the crowd.

There is truth to what Dr. Gaul said but you wanted Coriolanus to have this night all to himself.  He has been preparing for this his entire life, there are plenty of times when you can share the spotlight with him.

“I have watched you and Mister Snow quite closely, Miss Swansworth.”  Dr. Gaul says.  “I have seen the two of you do great things.”

You keep your expression neutral.  Dr. Gaul is not one to make small talk.  She sat with you for a reason.  

To remind you of her contribution to your rise in power or to send you a threat.

“Now, it is no longer just me who is watching.  Panem has its eyes on you.”  She continues, her eyes widening slightly, in a way of provocation and you tip your chin up just the slightest to show her you are not afraid to take on her challenge.  “Do not disappoint.”

A real smile spreads on your lips. 

“Failure is a foreign concept to me.”

“We shall see, Miss Swansworth.”  She returns your smile with a much wider one.  You watch her finish her posca and she stands, her eyes on you still.  “Afterall, I understand that Mister Snow only keeps those who are useful.”

You never took your eyes off her until she disappeared in the crowd.

That woman is dangerous.  She is not someone you fear nor admire, just a fair balance between the two.  But perhaps even leaning on the latter.

There is truth in her words.  Anyone can be replaced.  But you doubt Coriolanus would let you go as easily.  You are an essential chess piece to him, and it helps that he is fond of you.  But everything is fleeting.

You lean your back against the padded chair, breathing in the scented air.  You hope Thanatos Swansworth was having a toast with Crassus Snow up in the heavens…or wherever they may be.

It was fulfilled.  The promise you made to your father and to yourself.

Coriolanus is in the seat of power.  And you will share it with him.  You have secured a life of sovereignty and will be a powerful figure in the government of Panem.  It feels good to be around him, to revel in glory and to receive his expensive attention.

But is this all there is to you and Coriolanus?

Are you limited to playing games?

This is what you feared.  

When you have your mind set on something for so long, you are lost the moment you get it.

Of course, the next plan would be to ensure that Coriolanus remains seated at the pinnacle.  

How tedious.

You frown, surprised at yourself for thinking in such a way.

You reach for your third glass of posca for the night.  Perhaps being alone for too long in such events will do you no good.  And you refuse to let yourself dwell in these thoughts any longer. 

Dr. Gaul is good, you have to admit.  She has disturbed your peace in less than three minutes.

In great effort, you try again to enjoy your own company, you are midsip when your eyes accidentally meet his.

Coriolanus frowns slightly at your lack of companion, he makes an attempt to excuse himself from the table he is in but you shake your head, your crimson lipstick staining the rim of the glass.  His frown deepens and for a moment, he contemplates, but he easily slips back into the conversation.

You get up, eyes trained at the enormous doors that lead deeper in the building.  You grasp a bottle of posca on the refreshments table on your way out.

The peacekeepers open the doors for you and the music is immediately muffled after they close it again.

You walk around the mansion and pass the offices of the men who were filling their belly with posca and steaks.  You eventually reach your destination and the peacekeepers guarding the office are quick to recognize you and they salute before letting you in.

The Presidential office was dim but you appreciate its space.  You walk around, hand brushing on the effects placed in the room.  Eyeing the sword identical to the ones the Lady Justice holds, only smaller and the gilded vase of white roses on the side.

Yes, it would do.

The cushions of the sofa sink under you as you sit leisurely, you look at the empty chair at the center end of the office.  The throne.

You open the bottle and you sip directly from it.

Everything you previously did will all be child’s play in comparison to what lies ahead.

Coriolanus is meant for it.  You are certain he will do great.

Just like his father before him.

And just like your father, are you just going to remain a pawn for another Snow?

Reluctance returns in your head and it slowly poisons you.

A soft creak behind you pulls you from your thoughts.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

You hum to acknowledge him as you sip on the bottle once more.

Coriolanus stands behind you, watching the seat behind the desk just like what you are doing.

It belongs to him.  Everything belongs to him.

“You should sit down on it.”  He says and you tilt your head back to look at him.  Your position exposes your pretty neck, looking most vulnerable, but he knows you are anything but.

“It’s not mine.”  You say but he only clicks his tongue to dismiss you.

Coriolanus grabs the bottle from you and takes your hand, leading you to it.

You look at the seat, not really wanting it.

“Go on.”  He says lowly as he stands close behind you.

He smiles when your fingers brush on the intricately carved hardwood of the armrest but his smile falls when you turn away from the seat to look at him tiredly. 

Coriolanus composes himself quickly and lightly brushes past you to sit himself on the soft cushions.  

He felt powerful.  As if he can do everything with just a movement of his fingers.  But it was lacking.

You protest when he pulls you to sit on his lap.

“Corio-”

“This is your place.”  He spoke sternly.  “With me.”

Understanding that he has no plans of letting you go anytime soon, you relax against his chest, your feet swaying lightly.

“Are you happy, Mister President?”  You ask gently.

“I am…satisfied.”  His chest expands against your back as he breathes deeply.  “I don’t know about happy.”

His hand caresses your thigh in a comfortable manner.

“If being President does not make you happy, what else would?”

Coriolanus hears the bitter sarcasm in your voice but decides not to say anything about it.  He rests his cheek against your head as he watches you play with a wax seal stamp.  Your delicate fingers trace the Snow family crest engraved on it.

“Marry me.”

He said it so nonchalantly, like his statement carries no weight.  Just another move on the chessboard.

You grew up dreaming about the day when Coriolanus Snow will finally ask you to marry him.  Your days in the academy were dedicated to make that dream come true. 

A wedding between you two would have sealed the deal but the unspoken uncertainties in your head are speaking louder than you would have wanted.

“We can give it a month.  It’ll be plenty of time for preparations to-”

“I do not want to marry you.”

His caress on your thigh halts and his hand grips your flesh.

“What?”

You wince at his tone.  You knew he never took rejection kindly.  You look at your lap and saw his hold getting tighter and tighter.

“I have articulated myself perfectly.”

Coriolanus purses his lips.  It has been a while since he felt this loss.  You have become a constant in his life, always giving him your helpful insights that guide his decisions.  Now, it was you who has become a riddle.

“You feel for me.”  He says, but his tone was more of a question. 

“I do.”  You respond with your heart full, smiling at him from your shoulder.

“Then why won’t you marry me?”  He asks exasperatedly. 

You wanted to tell him why but you decided against it.  He might question your dedication for this and you are reminded of Dr. Gaul’s words.

Choosing not to answer seems like the safest option now so you stay silent.  

After realizing that you have no plans in answering, Coriolanus does not push you further.

You are a puzzling woman but he was almost certain you would want to marry him too.

As the night deepens, neither of you move, mulling the heaviness of what just transpired between you.

Quest for Happiness

[elexaria]

Simon Riley who had been on a lookout for a particular peer of his after high school, sweet little girl who normally did all of the schoolwork for him. Even behind the teachers back. Even when their handwritings never, ever matched up; but the teachers only let her off because, at the very least, he was passing with an A.

Sweet, somewhat nerdy!Reader who actually felt bad for a guy, in general just a person, going through such a rough time when in reality school would only fuck up people into being robots for the government and absolutely do no help for the post puberty and traumatized Teenager!Simon. She tries to have sweets on her for whenever he pops in, also tries her hardest to be nice to the other Riley. Sweet young lady Reader who somehow becomes well known around their high school after winning a last minute game in volleyball, followed by basketball, tennis, track, and soccer. Medals and whatnot. Even earned a goddamn picture in the Coach’s office — the female coach, the male one who seemed to be more like a father to sweet Reader.

Sweet!Reader who is suddenly gone. Desk of hers absolutely empty. No pens, no pink notebooks mixed with pastels. Not her signature backpack in sight. No scent of hers, no constant chirping, no glances that arrived at Simon once she caught glimpse of him in the hallways right before first period. Third period feels… loud. Ironic since there’s a pin-drop silence, even breathing. He normally has the rest of the periods with her from then out, until seventh period. He could recite her entire schedule.

Simon can’t help fidgeting, biting his tongue from asking where she is. Not to be nosy, not to be teased, outwardly and fucking pushed into the lockers teased. Perhaps she was coincidentally absent?

Years pass on, evidently screaming she was, in fact, gone. Even on missions, Simon can’t help but glance everywhere. He’s more fucked up, a bitter version, working exactly for the monarchy (almost forgot he’s British, for God’s sakes) and saving his people.

And just one day, one day that everything seemed normal for Johnny and the rest of Simon’s boys, he catches a goddamn glimpse of her. Her face, specifically. Rushing around, apron around her waist and down her thighs. Appropriate attire of a waitress serving a man with a comically huge cigarette and in a suit whilst speaking to another duplicate of his.

His grip on his whiskey tightens.

(Andddddd you continue!!!)

-🍓

ohoho, strawb anon you genius >:)

simon feels his chest tighten up, his grip on his drink tightening as he glances at the mom and pop diner across the street. no… could it..?

before he can indulge himself with another thought, gaz nudges simon gently. “you alright there lt?” he asks sincerely, an eyebrow raised as he tries to figure out what simon was glancing at. he just grunts in response, relaxing his shoulders as he downs the last remaining drops of whiskey. “thought i saw someone. ‘scuse me—“ he murmurs in response, standing up from the pub booth as he saunters past gaz and up and leaves. when one of the lads asks where he’s going, simon grumbles out a ‘goin for a fag’ while lifting up a ciggie and his lighter.

simon leans against the alley wall that faces the diner, deep in thought as he exhales plumes of smoke while glaring right at the restaurant. come on, he thinks to himself, show yourself. he begins to wonder if he was just seeing things, like you’re an oasis in the middle of the desert or something. wishful thinking, he muses to himself.

and just when he pushes himself up from off the wall, his lips drawn into a thin line in disappointment— he spots her.

she’s absolutely beautiful, breathtaking even. the faint crows feet around his eyes crease as his gaze softens. it’s funny how time has treated them both. one of the only friends he had considered himself to have during school has found herself working as a waitress, cute pinafore hugging her curves in all the right places— while he’s just a bigger, meatier version of the boy he once was. he’s just a husk of a man now. war’ll do that to a bloke.

he fidgets nervously with the zipper of his windbreaker, chewing the inside of his lip as he contemplates popping over to say hello. would that be weird? hell, would she even remember him anymore? his feet are itching to move, but he’s cemented right there— forced to stare at the diner, and the siren within that seemingly tempts him.

with a groan, simon pulls out his phone to text the group chat— “gonna head off, see you back on base” before shoving his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. and with a clear of his throat, he steadily paces across the road to the mom and pop diner. simon feels sick with anticipation, a feeling he’s never really felt before in his life. even when he had found the bodies of his family, even through the torture— he’d never felt quite a strange amalgamation of emotions before. and that really freaked him out.

the diner’s door bell rings, the dulcet tones of doo wop music playing in the restaurant greeting simon when he steps inside. he waits patiently in the small foyer, calloused fingers reaching out to smooth over the creased laminate menu on display. and his heart damn near falls out of his ass when the waitress greets him with a friendly smile.

“hi there! welcome to pop’s EZ diner! my name is ____ and i’ll be your waitress today!” you greet enthusiastically, beaming up at the stranger stood in front of you, awkwardly glaring right into your soul with hauntingly beautiful stormy blue eyes. it was kind of creepy, but weirdly endearing. you just wrote it off, assuming he was socially awkward— after all, he clears his throat and struggles to find the words to say for almost a minute before finally opening his mouth.

“uh… hello. you don’t—“ simon pauses, clearing his throat again as his hands continue to fidget with the menu, his gaze nervously flitting from the menu back to you. “you don’t happen to recognise me, do ya? simon? simon riley? from st matthews?” he says, the timber of his voice itching the back of your brain in a pleasing way. st matthews? how did he know where you went to school?

you shake your head politely, nervously tucking your notepad and pen back into your pinafore pocket. “oh, um. sorry, i don’t—“ you reply, offering him a sympathetic smile. the man, simon, turns bright pink— again, nervously clearing his throat as he nods, lowering his head as he turns on his heels to head back out the diner. “oh, sorry. nevermind.” he murmurs, raising his hand politely to you before his hand reaches for the door handle.

and then it clicks.

oh. my. god.

it’s been YEARS since you had thought about simon riley, and suddenly your mind was being overwhelmed with all these memories of helping a teenage simon out in school. your eyes widen, a hand reaching out to gently grip on his windbreaker sleeve. he freezes, half glaring and half shocked as he turns to face you. but the expression on simon’s face eases when he realises that he was right, it was you.

“simon riley? oh my god—“ you gasp out, eyes wide as you look up at him with a dumbfounded expression, one that sends a shiver down simon’s spine.

what an interesting reunion this would turn out to be..

[suiana]

Hello! I hope that you are having a fantastic day 💞💞💞 You are one of my fave yan authors on this site!

Can I request how yan gov official react to receiving this text from a worker!y/n?

(yandere! government official x gn! assistant reader) (MUAHHH I MISSED YA VIOLLLETT) (btw hes old so he has autocaps on 💗💗 my geriatric baby😋)

STUPIDGOVERNMENTOFFICIAL: What?

YOU: oh yeah u heard me

YOU: im leaving ur ass!!!

STUPIDGOVERNMENTOFFICIAL: No.

you snicker at his texts, watching him clench his phone as he glares at you. he takes off his glasses, folding his arms across his chest as he leans back in his chair.

"do not play around like this."

he states sternly, voice deep and rich as you continue to giggle softly from your desk which is situated directly opposite from his. god, he's so cute when he's all worked up like this.

you can't help but want to tease him even more.

so you did, obviously.

"mn... but what if i wanna?"

you hum softly, leaning towards him as your eyes trail over his shirt that's popping at the seams. god he's so hot. wait what is he doing? why's he standing up-

uh oh he's coming closer- no no no!

you can't help but whine as he takes your phone away from you, keeping it in the pocket of his pants as he shakes his head at you like a disappointed father.

"do not joke around over a sensitive topic like this."

he then leans down beside you, maintaining eye contact as he closes the gap between you. the air between you two grows thick as your cheeks heat up, body going still as your mouth grows dry at your lover's close contact.

"i wouldn't want to punish you after all."

...

damn, why did he have to look so hot while saying that?

you kinda want to be punished now.

[dadbodbuck]

fine, you've forced my hand!

It’s by some miracle that Buck doesn’t show his hand the instant he turns on the lights to see him sitting in the corner chair of his hotel room.

“They’ve got you in some pretty shitty digs, Evan,” he says, and Buck fights tooth and screaming nail to hold onto his composure. “Nash so low on funds he had to put you up in a crusty motel?”

“Agent 217,” Buck says, hand itching for his comm. He knows better, knows that 217 has his service weapon tucked neatly away in a holster at his side, knows he’d be dead before he could click on to make the call. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Please, call me Tommy,” 217 says with an innocent, dashing grin, even inch the handsome James Bond everyone assumes Buck must be. “You have something I want.”

“Like we’ll ever tell you anything,” Buck scoffs, “You’re barking up the wrong tree.”

217—Tommy, and why would he give Buck a name to call him?—stands, and stalks over. “Who says I’m after information?”

Buck swallows, tensing himself for a fight. “So, what, this is a hit? Are you here to gloat?”

Tommy continues walking, appraising Buck where he stands in his unassuming civvies. Jean jacket, cotton tee, khakis, tennis shoes. Compared to Tommy’s government-issued slacks, crisp button-down, and polished shoes, Buck feels a little underdressed. He glances down as Tommy rounds his back and leans forward to whisper. “You were at the boardwalk tonight. I know what Nash is after. Going up against the entire establishment, Evan? That’s a suicide mission.”

And—okay. Contrary to popular belief, being a spy (“Intelligence Agent,” Bobby always insists) doesn’t get him laid all the time. He’s actually been going through a bit of a dry spell, with the recent push towards leaking the project they’d been a part of before they went rogue. They just need a little more information, a little more time. Point being, it’s been a fucking goddamn minute, and 217 is smoking. Curly hair, slate gray eyes that sparkle with dry wit, pearly white smile that is condescending, maybe, but in a way that gets Buck’s dick standing at attention. Broad shoulders, big arms, solid muscle. He could bend Buck completely in half, if he so desired. And God, Buck desires.

“Sorry,” Buck blinks, while Tommy smiles his little Cheshire Cat grin, “What was the question?”

“Oh, I’m not here for questions,” Tommy murmurs, hands slipping over Buck’s hips. “I’ve seen the way you watch me, Evan. You’re not exactly subtle. It’s a wonder Nash still employs you.”

“I’m not hooking up with a fucking Fed,” Buck says, even as he gasps with the way Tommy leans down to mouth at his neck.

“Kinda sounds like you are,” Tommy grins, obnoxiously smug, “Besides, weren’t you a fucking Fed three years ago?”

“People change,” Buck says mindlessly, “Fuck, touch me.”

“As you wish,” Tommy replies, sounding affected for the first time that night. Buck catches a glimpse of them in the standing mirror in the entryway, sees the way Tommy’s eyes are blown dark over his shoulder. Watches his hand snake down his front, gently palm over the (frankly, humiliating) bulge in his pants.

Buck wishes he could say it felt like nothing. It would be so nice to be disappointed by Tommy’s touch, when he hates the guy with a burning passion. Unfortunately for Buck’s pride, it’s electric. Tommy’s hand is firm and warm on his dick, even through the layers of fabric.

“They told me about your reputation,” Tommy breathes, “Told me about Agent Buckley, back in the day, sleeping with marks more often than tailing them.”

Okay, so maybe sometimes being a spy got him laid. “It was very effective,” Buck says defensively, “Got a lot of good intel. Why, you want to see what all the fuss was about?”

“You know what they say about curiosity and cats,” Tommy muses, “And satisfaction bringing them back.”

Buck hums, and loses the last tenuous grip on his dignity. “I could blow you.”

“You mean I’d get a blowjob and spared the sound of your voice?” Tommy says, pressing a little harsher into Buck’s clothed dick, delicious friction pushing a moan out of Buck’s mouth. “Is there a downside?”

“Your dick will be extremely close to my teeth,” Buck returns, “And I don’t want you to come down my throat. I want you to fuck me.”

“All you had to do was ask,” Tommy simpers, before dropping his saccharine tone for a bossy: “Now get on your fucking knees.”

And, really, who told him that Buck’s favorite part of his 1.0 phase was when his marks would boss him around? Against his will, his knees give out, and he drops down, watching himself kneel in front of Tommy before reluctantly breaking eye contact with the mirror, shuffling around to a face full of tented polyester.

“You’re so fucking obnoxious,” Buck says, even as he leans forward to run his tongue along the outline of Tommy’s cock. It’s mouth-watering.

“I thought the point of sucking cock was to have your mouth occupied,” Tommy scoffs, hand fisting Buck’s hair a little meanly. Buck wishes he could stop another moan from spilling out of his mouth, but the pain hits him just right.

With fingers that are still thankfully on board with what he’s doing, Buck deftly undoes Tommy’s belt buckle, unzips his pants, and marvels at the thick, long cock that he pulls from his boxers. Oh, he’s going to have so much fun with this. He licks up the underside of Tommy’s dick, slow and wet, and revels in the way his hand tightens in his hair.

It’s like riding a bike, or something, probably. Buck finds himself sucking on the head of Tommy’s cock like he was born for it, bobbing his head down the length of him, letting the filthy, wet, clicking noise of his throat echo around the hotel room. It must be like riding a bike, because the other option is that Buck really did need Tommy this bad. And it can’t be that. Bobby would skin him alive.

“Jesus,” Tommy swears, hips hitching into Buck’s mouth. It’s almost like he’s trying to hold back for Buck’s sake, which is… cute. Certainly nicer treatment than he’s used to, but he can’t decide whether that’s a good thing or not.

Either way, he can’t handle tenderness. Not now, and maybe not ever. He doesn’t get to have attachments. That much is clear. He sees the way Eddie and Hen and Chim worry over their loved ones. This way is better. He’s already got Christopher and Maddie and Jee-yun to worry about.

Buck pulls off Tommy’s cock with a loud pop. “You can fuck my throat. It’s okay. I won’t break.”

“I hate to think of what your team would do to me if I broke their favorite toy,” Tommy chuckles, “Especially Diaz. I hear he’s creative.”

“Do me a favor and don’t mention him with your dick next to my face,” Buck rolls his eyes, desperately ignoring the way his dick twitches at the mention of Eddie’s name, “I’ll be fine. Take me for a ride. I know you want to.”

“Oh, you’re gagging for it,” Tommy surmises, guiding his cock back to Buck’s mouth. Buck, unable to deny it, willingly goes down on Tommy, letting him set the pace as he fucks leisurely into Buck’s mouth.

Tommy pushes him down further, and Buck relaxes into it, until he can feel the warmth of Tommy’s hip where his nose pushes into soft flesh. “Holy shit,” Tommy says, “I’m starting to get why this was so effective, I think.”

Buck stays until black spots start dancing at the corners of his eyes, pulling back and heaving breath, and then returning to his spot with Tommy’s cock all the way down his throat. It’s alarmingly comfortable. For the first time since his team went AWOL, he wishes he wasn’t in too deep to quit. He could spend an entire lifetime sitting at Tommy’s feet with his dick choking him stupid.

He gets maybe three more off-breath-down reps in before Tommy is pulling him off by the hair. “Okay, if you still want me to fuck you, we have to take this elsewhere.”

“Yeah, I want,” Buck croaks, voice alarmingly fucked out. Tommy helps him up—strangely chivalrous for a man who has tried on multiple occasions to shoot him with a gun—and they tumble into bed together. If it weren’t for the fact of who both of them were, it might even be romantic.

Tommy has his mouth on Buck before he can get another word in edgewise. Buck starts scrambling to get the rest of their clothes off, and shirts, pants, underwear, and shoes end up scattered around the room.

“Lube? Condoms?” Tommy asks as Buck bites at the junction of his neck and jaw.

“Side table,” Buck says, “You don’t have to use a condom. I haven’t had sex in a while.”

“Poor thing,” Tommy says, faux-pitying, as he rifles through the drawer of the side table, “You must be so pent up.”

Honestly, Buck’s just used to his marks not wanting to use condoms, and dealing with the potential fallout later. Still, he’s kind of disappointed when Tommy pulls them out of the drawer along with the lube packets.

“You’re adorable when you pout,” Tommy grins, pressing a sickly sweet kiss to Buck’s cheek, “I’m using a condom.”

“Fine,” Buck huffs, rolling his hips up into Tommy’s, “Just hurry.”

Tommy, thankfully, wastes no time in emptying a lube packet into his hand and swiping it up against Buck’s hole, slicking the way for his fingers. He’s clearly no slouch at this, either, thick fingers deftly opening him up beneath him, forearm muscles flexing so deliciously.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-fuck-fuck,” Buck says, squirming as Tommy slides his fingers in and out in intoxicating rhythm, “Fuck me, Tommy, Tommy—”

“Finally, you’re saying something worth listening to,” Tommy smiles against Buck’s neck, “Never thought I’d get to hear the great Evan Buckley beg for my cock.”

“It’s—ah—it’s a specialty,” Buck pants, rolling his hips as he aches for more, for a harsh little sting, for something to distract him from the way this is starting to feel too much like intimacy and not enough like fucking.

“Maybe I’d like to hear some more,” Tommy says, pulling away to roll a condom on and slick himself up.

Buck, suddenly cold and empty, lets the words fall unabashed from his mouth. “Oh, please, Tommy, I’ll make it so good for you, it’ll feel so good, just need you in me, just need—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Tommy says, just on the wrong side of tender, “I know what you need. Hold still for me.”

And then there’s the thick press of Tommy’s cock against Buck’s hole. Tommy slips in with a stretch that has Buck mewling something embarrassing in the back of his throat, and leans forward as he slides deeper, inch-by-burning-inch, encouraged by the way Buck grips at his biceps.

“Breathe,” Tommy says as he bottoms out, at which point Buck realizes he’s been stuck with his head tipped back and mouth open. He sucks in a gasping breath, relaxing under Tommy’s bulk. Tommy is warm above him again, haloed by the dim hotel light, so close Buck can feel his breath on his cheek.

“Move,” Buck demands, squirming. Tommy seems only too happy to oblige, mouth finding Buck’s again as he starts to roll his hips into him. It’s a slow, languid fuck, but still enough to have Buck seeing stars.

“This how you got all those people to tell you what they were up to?” Tommy asks, a hand roaming down to pinch Buck’s nipple, coaxing a groan out of him. “You’d just lay here all pretty and let them take what they wanted?”

“Nnnnngh—usually they wanted me on top,” Buck says around a reedy moan, “But yeah, that’s the general idea.”

“You take it so well,” Tommy murmurs, snapping his hips in with just a little more force, “Makes me wonder how many times you’ve done this before. How many times you begged on your knees—how many times you’ve been a slut for terrible people.”

“You’re in perfectly fine company, I can assure you,” Buck says, trying to regain some of his composure, “Art thieves, mob bosses, hackers. You work with monsters every day, why can’t I sleep with them?”

“I’ll have you know that the monsters I work with are working for the greater good,” Tommy says, with a huffed laugh, “And if you keep talking about them I’m not going to let you finish.”

“Oh, you’re not going to let me?” Buck says, “I’ll have you know I’m perfectly capable of taking what I want, too.”

“I’m sure you are, stud,” Tommy says, in that same condescending tone of voice that goes right to Buck’s dick. He fucks into him harder, right at the perfect angle, and Buck can’t help the pathetic moan that spills out of his mouth.

“You—were—talking—a little—too much,” Tommy grunts between thrusts, slamming into Buck again, and again, “Just lay back—and fucking take it.”

Like Buck could ever want to do anything else. He’s well aware of the fucked-out little uh, uh, uh noises that Tommy’s forcing out of him, but he’s far too gone to be embarrassed about it. This is the best fuck he’s had in years, he could care less what he sounds like or looks like right now.

Not that Tommy seems to mind. If anything, given the way he’s latched onto Buck’s neck like a goddamn vampire, he likes that Buck’s a writhing mess beneath him. Buck’s nerves are lit up, from the pain of Tommy’s less-than-gentle biting, from the way Tommy nails Buck’s prostate with every thrust, from the skin-on-skin he hasn’t had in so long.

His orgasm sneaks up on him. Usually, he’s a lot better about announcing it, giving his partners time to decide what they want, but Tommy is—Tommy is grunting and his back muscles are flexing under Buck’s fingers and his cock fills him so beautifully and Buck didn’t even think he could come without something on his dick, but—

Belatedly, as Buck rockets towards the clouds, he realizes that maybe there is something special about Agent 217. 

Buck comes down slowly, to the feeling of hands gently petting his sides, and a softening dick sliding out of his ass. It’s gross, leaves him feeling sticky and a little used, but he can’t bring himself to care that much about it at all. To his complete shock, he feels Tommy rummaging around for something, and then the soft cotton of his shirt wiping the cum off of his stomach, and the lube from his ass.

“It’s okay, Evan,” Tommy says, gentle, soft, “You can rest.”

Buck, despite every ounce of self-preservation that says he’s leaving himself completely vulnerable, does.

He wakes to an empty room. Nothing seems amiss, so despite the deep humiliation and regret, Buck packs his things (luckily, finding his hiding spots untouched) and heads back to the rendezvous point.

Athena is waiting for him at the café, in streetwear that looks unnaturally casual on her. “Got everything?”

“Check and check,” Buck says, handing her the dossier, “Got some lovely pictures. The sunset was especially gorgeous last night.”

“You sound like you could use a tea with lemon and honey,” Athena winces, “You coming down with something?”

“No,” Buck says, fighting against the urge to flush.

Athena passes him a knowing smile over her coffee. “Thanks for this, Buck. I’ll let Bobby know you came through, and he’ll want to meet with you later. I think we’re getting close.”

“Good,” Buck sighs, “I can’t wait for this whole mess to be over. I never thought I’d say this, but it would be nice to do some paperwork for once.”

[unholyhelbig]

any chance for a kate x reader angst?

Title: Firecrest (Part 1/???)

Ship: Female!Reader x Kate Bishop

Wordcount: 4075

Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.

Warnings: Mentions of sexual activities, fire, mentions of childhood abandonment, horrible grammar (I don't proofread lol), and things I'm sure I'm forgetting.

[A/n: how about enemies to lovers angst? How about Enemies to lovers with a little fake dating sprinkled in there? Let me know if this is something you all would like to see continued!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Your mother had the in-depth beauty of a street dog. Her features were angular, yet soft and welcoming. People were often tempted to reach and run their fingers through her fur. But she tended to gently correct. She had the perfect demeanor for a government spy. However, you had always known her as a brilliant biochemist. Alluring in her brilliance.

The soft lights of the city shaded her face in the back of the taxi. The air had warmed significantly, but the low hum of the air conditioner made you pull your suit jacket close to your breast. The maroon had felt like too much at first. But the impressed nod from the woman next to you was enough to ebb away any doubts.

Your mother popped open her compact and swiped her finger against the corner of her mouth, taking away the smudged gloss that wasn’t noticeable in comparison to her presence. There was not much you feared in this world, but her wrath. Her annoyance. Her disappointment. None of which she flashed often.

“Remember what we talked about, y/n.”

“Of course. Would you like me to repeat it?”

She snapped the compact and leveled you with amusement. Her eyebrow lifted, the start of a smile at the corner of her lip. She couldn’t be serious. You made eye contact with the taxi driver in the mirror. He showed the same amusement that your mother did, yet somehow, hers stung more.

A groan escaped you, but bled into the mantra that was drilled into you for the past two weeks. “I will be the perfect lady who is grateful for the success of Lance and his political circuit.”

“And?”

“I will not start anything I can’t finish with Katherine Elizabeth Bishop, And I’m an adult perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“That wasn’t part of it.” Your mother corrected softly. Her hands were suddenly on you, smoothing down the lapel of your suit. “But It’ll do. Mostly, because we’re here.”

Eleanor Bishop often held her galas in the historic buildings of downtown Manhattan. There were small pamphlets lingering by the extensive hand-carved doors. They’d detail the rich family that had built it from the ground up. The architecture was always admittedly beautiful, and Eleanor had a subtle, expensive taste.

This venue was no different; stretching hallways and men in suits that mirrored yours in a tasteful black. Your mother never stepped ahead of you, instead holding a hand out and helping you from the back of the taxi. You’d left a generous tip, careful not to shove your hands into your pockets.

“This used to be a museum for fine arts and culture. The last I heard; the city was going to tear it down but made it a historical site. They use it for banquets now, I suppose.”

“Oh? You’ve read the informational booklet, then?”

She jabbed her elbow into your ribs and mocked a scowl. “No. I robbed it. How do you think we paid for your college tuition, kiddo?”

That was an exaggeration. You were 90% sure- maybe 75%. Bobbi Morse was a force to be reckoned with, and that was something you had learned from a young age. She’d let you sit on the counter of her lab while she worked, and you’d watch her with absolute awe.

Your mother had taught you, without fail, a variety of fighting skills. Starting with Aikido and ending with Taekwondo. She was a master at her craft, both in the field and in her lab and had worked with you since you could walk to train you in the same.

“Mm,” You hummed your response, “Which priceless painting did you take?”

“It was a vase, smart-ass.”

You pulled in a breath to retort before effectively being rendered silent by the performance hall. Eleanor Bishop had gone all out for the benefits that she backed. This was a vast space that was adorned in white sheer and glittering lights. A slideshow of the sponsored bird sanctuary flashed on the televisions scattered throughout the space.

There was a band on the stage, string instruments that you could feel in the center of your chest. The low notes shuddered through you as you took in the crowd. There were few that you actually recognized, usually hazed in expensive alcohol and lingering by the food, or some form of fresh air.

“It’s ironic that it’s about birds, right?”

She leveled you with an unimpressed look and squeezed your shoulder fondly. It didn’t take long for Lance to make his way over to the both of you. His eyes lit up and a smile spread across his freshly-shaved face. He gave you a small wave, gently exiting the conversation he was having with a congressman, a millionaire, or an architect that was just the right amount of desperate.

Lance Hunter had stolen your mothers heart when you were ten years old. You always assumed it was the accent, but the more you got to know him, the more you understood his charms. Lance had never forced things with you, had never claimed to be your father.

There were quiet moments when he’d join you on the wrap-around porch of your family home and just sit. The two of you would watch the way the sun dipped behind the horizon, sipping on syrupy cans of soft drink. Eventually, you talked to him, and he listened with diligence.

“My girls,” he said, placing a chaste kiss against your forehead before sidling up next to Bobbi. They had effortlessly matched in a deep and royal blue that contrasted the ignited red of your own suit. You were the perfect epitome of a political family.

Eleanor Bishop had given you a brief nod of the head, signifying your presence. It was a silent warning told through blackened eyes: Behave.

Her diligent attention was enough to split your family up. You preferred to linger away from the stuffy socialites. Bobbi and Lance were required to mingle. You plucked a flute of bubbling champagne from a passing tray and moved towards one of the elegant support beams decorated with what you now learned, was real foliage.

The floral scent tickled the back of your throat, so you took a generous swallow and let the alcohol warm your stomach diligently. There had to be something interesting around here, away from the rest of the party. A plague or two that would further explain the venue.

A burst of forced laughter greeted your parents as they sidled up next to Jack and Eleanor. Lance had produced some campaign buttons, which the group took without hesitation. You had to admit, he was loveable and politician-worthy.

“Look at us, we match.”

You swallowed back a groan, not bothering to look over. A small noise still escaped you, and the grumble conveyed your exact disposition towards Kate Bishop. Disgust. Annoyance. The slightest bit of attraction. She overwhelmed your senses with her crisp, winter scent.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of you and you glanced over at her. She was in red too, incredibly vibrant against her soft expanses of exposed skin. The dress had a dipping neckline, revealing the freckles that created constellations against her collarbone. She beamed with irritation. You’d never admit that she was captivating.

“I thought you were given explicit instructions to leave me be.” You said between gritted teeth.

She hummed and grasped the drink from your hand. Kate was calculated in her movements, wrapping her lips around the smudge of lipstick that you’d already created on the rim of the glass. She didn’t break eye contact, those slate orbs boring into you.

“We both know you’re the most interesting thing at these parties.”

“I’m not falling for your… charms, Kate Bishop. Your mother may have bought you out of our consequences last time. But, I have more at stake.”

She scoffed and set the now empty glass down on the nearest table. You knew damn well that Kate wasn’t absolved of accountability after your run-in a few months back. She held herself differently now, and it was a minute expression of her posture that caught your attention.

There was a small split at the corner of her lip, and a healing bruise just at her hairline. She’d attempted to use makeup to cover the abrasions, but you had a trained eye. You were your mother’s daughter. These were defensive wounds. And for just a moment, you worried that the Bishop’s had a heavier hand than you’d anticipated.

But then, Kate’s muscles flexed and her head lilted to the side, dark curls splaying over her shoulders. She had grown stronger. It wasn’t noticeable, or at least, it shouldn’t’ have been. But you knew every inch of her body and despite your forced separation, she’d grown steady of herself.

“Why should I be punished, when you’re the one who set the curtains ablaze.”

You leaned close enough to feel her body heat. To her credit, she didn’t step back. A ghost of a smirk was on her lips. You snarled your words. “And who’s fault was that?”

“I don’t see how I was supposed to know you’d get trigger happy with your powers when I went down on you.” She gave you a cocky pout. “Is that a new thing, or have you never been able to handle yourself in moments of pleasure?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from grasping at the strap on her dress, pulling her closer to you out of a burst of anger. The phantom look of confidence spread into a full-blown grin. You were exasperated, the familiar heat burning just under your skin.

It was true, you’d lost control for just a moment, with Kate Bishops head between your legs, one hand buried deep in her mess of tangled hair. As an orgasm washed over you, thighs shaking, your other hand had drifted too close to the drapes and had caught them ablaze.

Despite the both of you being adults, you were separated within an instant. Dragged embarrassingly away by your respective parental units after the fire was put out. The last you’d seen of her was reflected with the flashing red lights of a rumbling fire engine.

Kate had a devilish look in her eyes. “Harder, baby.”

“Ladies,”

It was a resolute sound that had you pulling apart as if she was a toxic entity. In your book, she was. Both hands landed in your pockets and the two of you looked sheepishly at Eleanor. She’d been keeping an eye on you, you were sure. And had made a direct line to you the second Kate had given you that salacious look.

“Good evening, Mrs. Bishop. It’s a pleasure to see you.”

Kate coughed out something that sounded like ‘Kiss ass’ and covered it up with a doe-eyed look of innocence. She may not have been afraid of her mother, but you were terrified. Bobbi had a soft hand. It commanded you like a weapon, and you were happy to do what you were told.

Your own punishment had consisted of heavier training. Both mentally and physically to perfect control that you’d had mastered years ago when you were nothing but a girl with streaks of tears dripping from your chin. The fire had been too strong then, overwhelming and horrible.

“Good evening, Miss Morse, I trust you’ve found a way to entertain yourself during the benefit that isn’t antagonizing my daughter.” Before you could answer, she turned her attention to Kate. “And you. I specifically allowed you to bring a guest in attempts to keep you away from Bobbi’s little arsonist.”

She had been under the full impression that you’d taken a zippo to the hanging drapes. It was the white-hot flames that leaked from your own fingers that had done the damage. Kate was thankfully tight-lipped about the fact, and you let the socialite think whatever she wanted. She hadn’t pressed charges.

Kate pulled her shoulders back, almost looking offended at the name you were tagged with. Almost. “Clint got stopped at the front for an autograph, mom. I’m just biding my time.”

“Bide it somewhere else. We’ve talked about this.”

Eleanor gave you a tight-lipped smile that had noticeably softened compared to the venomous expression she held for Kate. A light squeeze was delivered to your arm. It had always scared you how quick she could switch like that. Her shoulders pulled back as she wandered back over to her group.

Lance lifted his chin in your direction. Silently asking if everything was okay, and it was. His quiet reassurance brought the heat licking at your stomach to a bubbling halt. Why you cared more about Eleanors disposition towards Kate, then her acidity directed at you, was beyond something you were willing to confront.

“Who’s Clint?”

“Why? Jealous?”

“Can we have a normal conversation, please. Is it so shocking that I’d take interest in your friends?”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Yes. If you must know, he’s not a friend. He’s a mentor. He’s, my partner.”

Both of your eyebrows lifted. Partner in what? It wasn’t something you would audibly voice, save you show any concern past the normal amount that you usually had for Kate. The tautness of her muscles, and the superficial injuries made that discomfort return to the pit of your stomach.

Kate was an archer. You knew such from the trophies that littered her dresser the one time you’d been privy to her room. Truth be told, you hadn’t paid much attention. You were backed against her door and her teeth were scraping against your pulse point. But the little gold figures and the child-sized bow on the wall was enough to of a giveaway.

You only knew one archer, and you knew him distantly; from photos that your mother had blacked out with a sharpie. She’d later told you that she regretted the fact because the memories of the three of you would always remain.

The taste of bile filled your throat and Kate lilted her head to the side, like a golden retriever that had heard a piercing noise. There was a surprising amount of concern in her voice. “You okay? You’re looking a little green.”

“Hm? Yeah. Totally. The champagne is just sitting weird.”

A frown had found its way onto your face, and you directed your attention back to the crowd. It seemed that Eleanor was satisfied enough with the two of you lingering in silence. You were trained to know where the exits were in any venue. Kate’s stare shockingly darted in the same pattern as your own.

People had trickled in until the floor was bustling with conversation. You let your shoulders relax in the slightest bit, swallowing back the acrid taste in your mouth. Eleanor had lost her viewpoint of you and her daughter, and you weren’t much in the mood for fighting her on pure proximity.

“There you are, god, I didn’t know this many people cared about birds.”

This time, you couldn’t stop your narrowed eyes from flashing to the intrusion. Whatever distracted Kate was enough to be deemed a savior in your book. But the voice was familiar, painfully so. It was as if your body reacted by busting out in goosebumps, chills rushing down your spine.

Now, you wanted your mother to be able to see you. You were a strong, and capable adult that knew at least six different ways to kill a person without a weapon. You’d gone on missions with your mother, with your Aunt Daisy, too. A simple man in a simpler suit should not make your knees weak.

Yet- here he was. In a charcoal black ensemble with a pocket square that was a flash of purple. It was a color you’d grown to despise. It was an eyesore, as was the man that stood at a height taller than Kate, but just a few inches.

You’d found a singular picture of him that wasn’t defaced in your mother’s nightstand. A polaroid of the three of you on the beach. The sun had turned your cheeks a flushed pink. He had you in his arms and beamed at the camera. Eyes matching the blue of the ocean.

They were the same now, the same vibrancy that you’d thought about. He looked other, worn from parenthood and the effects of time. Of course, you’d seen him on television, but Bobbi had always been quick to flick it off, only lingering during the Sokovia accords.

His mouth fell open in disbelief, but you were careful to keep your jaw stock still. You weren’t going to give Clint Barton the satisfaction of rattling you. Not here, not if he ever decided to show up when you had a family of your own. Not on your deathbed. He couldn’t invoke that from you.

Kate had learned to pick up on body language, and she had learned fast. Her stare shifted between both you, and Clint. She had the right amount of perception to keep her mouth shut, even taking half an inch step back. She was in a position to hold the two of you apart, if need be.

“Holy shit,” He breathed out, “Sparky.”

“Don’t call me Sparky.”

You were taken aback by your own ability to produce words. They were pinched and had dropped down an octave to true anger. Not the type that Kate Bishop was used to. Sure, you had aggravation directed towards her, but nothing short of teasing.

Clint took a slight step towards you, and you took a large one back, nearly bumping into the support beam wrapped with vines and vibrant flowers. Your hand reached out to grab onto it for support, but Kate’s fingers wrapped gently around your wrist. Right. Yes. That would be the safe bet.

You needed to find Bobbi.

Chances were, Clint hadn’t seen her with the growing attendance. You could slip out through the large storm doors that were a few feet behind you. At least then, you could burn scorch marks into the grass and not into this historical building.

“What is happening?” Kate said, refusing to remove her hand from your wrist. You didn’t wrench it away, either. It was a force, a grounding factor. You refused to let the fire move past your fingertips in fear that it would burn her. “Clint?”

“She uh… She’s…”

The words died in his throat. You couldn’t’ stand looking at him, pale as ice and wringing his hands nervously. He couldn’t hold still, but you were like a stone. Almost as if he would vanish the second you averted your stare.

“I’m his daughter.”

Kate’s hand did move from your wrist and to your hand, almost out of instinct. Your relationship, or lack-there-of, had never required this kind of closeness. But She was hanging on tightly, nails digging into your skin. The slight sting brought you back.

Clint croaked “How’s your mother?”

Kate winced and you felt the spring in your spine loosen. He was more nervous than you were and that gave you an advantage. “You can ask her yourself. She and Lance are mingling.”

“Lance is here?”

“Of course.”

He was running for congressman. It would damage his campaign if he hadn’t shown up. The gossip blogs that followed the lives of New Yorks Elite had picked up on the rift between you and Kate. There were a few grainy photos of the two of you standing shoulder to shoulder, wrapped in foil blankets that made you look like Baked potatoes. There was soot on her chin, and you had wiped the darkness away with your thumb. Of course, that had been the moment they caught and wrote about, and plastered all over the internet.

Clint worked his jaw and cupped the back of his neck with a tepid smile. It wavered incessantly. He was boyish in his charm and that would always be the case, no matter how old he got. You knew he had a family now. A real family that didn’t’ consist of a secret agent and their match-happy daughter.

You gave Kate a squeeze with your free hand, signaling that you were fine. The last thing you wanted to appear was weak. She seemed to get the message loud and clear, wrenching her touch away with a nervous clearing of her throat.

“I’m sorry… Can we back up for a second?”  

Clint had a dejected look in his eyes that almost made you feel a twinge of guilt. Almost. Your own ego often got in the way of things, and this was one of them. There was a flood of emotions between both of the archers, a silent pleading to hear him out.

“You and Mrs. Morse dated?”

“They were married.” You snatched another glass of campaign, this one all for yourself. You swallowed the acrid drink and let the bubbles assault your throat. “When did the divorce finalize, again?

“Y/n”

“No, I was never really privy to the details myself.”

“We shouldn’t do this here.”

You finished off the rest of the drink, a certain amount of your defenses lower. You felt warm, but not warm enough to do something stupid. He was right. You shouldn’t do this here and if you had your way, you wouldn’t’ do it anywhere. You were perfectly content to let this man slip back into oblivion and train the Bishop heiress that you had a habit of bedding.

Clint seemed to let out a sigh of relief when you nodded in agreement. He scrutinized you both, the rush of initial shock ebbing away like a melting lake. Chunks of ice broke off and gave way to the familiarity and closeness the two of you held. It was relaxed, despite the rivalry that landed you here in the first place.

“No,” he drawled out, “No, no, no. Kate, you didn’t’.”

The tips of her ears were red enough to match your suit and the color that painted her own lips. She hid her face in her hands with a groan. But you wrapped your arm around her waist and pulled her against your side.

“Does that bother you, old man?”

It clearly did. Kate leveled you with a delicious glare that was unmatched but didn’t’ move from your hold. Was she letting you have this? You weren’t entirely sure. He was whipping his head back and fourth with enough force to break his own neck. It was making you dizzy, but giddy all the same.

Your moment of joy at his dismay was short lived. You caught the sharp scent of your mothers perfume. She’d cut through the crowd and furrowed her brow at your closeness to Kate. It took her a few moments to realize that Clint was here. To realize that he was the man that had spurred your act of rebellion in doing the exact opposite of what she’d requested at the start of the night.

Her cool eyes took him in just as yours had. Kate was still next to you, swallowing a dryness in her throat that you could nearly hear. Bobbi didn’t attempt to separate you as Eleanor had. Instead, she gave you a quiet stare. “Darling, I think it’s time we go. There’s a situation we have to attend to.”

“Of course. It’s been a pleasure.”

It hadn’t been, but you shocked yourself and Kate by leaning in and pressing a kiss just behind her ear, still blazing with blush. She froze but gave you the slightest bit of nod. Clint opened and closed his mouth like a surfaced fish, but kept quiet.

Your mother walked with a purpose, her shoulders pulled back and an elegance to her sway. You didn’t look back, keeping time with her as she weaved through the crowd and towards the lobby that was ten degrees cooler and much, much more welcoming.

“Is there actually a situation, or is this your attempt at a rescue?”

She ignored your question, stopping and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a soft look in her eyes that made your stomach squirm. “Are you okay, sweetie? I had no idea that he’d be here. I never would have made you come.”

“I’m fine, mom.” She didn’t seem convinced, so you added “Really.”

Eventually, Bobbi relented with a shaky sigh and cupped your cheek in a comforting manner. “Good. Okay. Good. Because we do have a situation.”

[nexysworld]

Mission: Safeword

Read on AO3 🖤 Make a Request 🖤 Masterlist

Summary: Leon has many methods of getting information while on missions, especially from pretty girls like yourself.

Pairing: Infinite Darkness!Leon x Fem!Reader

Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Dubcon (but reader's into it), Face sitting, fingering, slight knife play, light bdsm, overstimulation, no use of y/n, not proofread

Your fingers quickly scattered across the keyboard, desperately trying to transfer the data and lock the system down. Silent alarms had been blaring and security had given the signal that an intruder – likely a government spy – had invaded  the compound. 

Whoever it was they had been lying low, no obvious break-ins, no knocked out staff, like a mouse. “Come on, come on.” You groaned, bringing your fist down onto the desk in frustration. “Faster you stupid thing. Billion dollar research company and you can’t even afford computers built after 1998?”  Pinching your temples you leaned back in your chair with a sigh, the transfer had been initiated, there was nothing else you could do now but hope that it went through. 

You tapped your fingers on your chair as  you watched the timer continue to recalculate the transfer time. Suddenly the screen went dark, along with the overhead lighting, leaving only a few of the lamps scattered around the office. “What the fuck? No, no this can’t be happening.” You banged the side of the computer, willing it to work again. The backup generators should’ve prevented the lights and systems from going out – this wasn’t making any sense. “Sorry Sweetheart, but I don’t think hitting it is going to fix the issue… on account of me pulling all these plugs here.” The voice pulled you out of your confused rage as you whipped around to see a man leaning back against the wall casually, he lifted the bundle of wires in his left hand to make a point.. ‘When did he get in here, I didn’t even hear the door open?’ You thought to yourself, backing up a little instinctively. 

He wasn’t wearing a standard uniform, instead clad in a black leather jacket, blue jeans, and boots. His well groomed gray-blonde hair framed his face in a way that let you get a good read on his chiseled features – he looked more like a model than a government agent – but you didn’t have time to think on that further. “You’re the spy!” You accused, trying to buy time to decide your next steps. 

“Spy? That’s pretty harsh – I’m just doing my job y’know.” He dropped the plugs and used his right hand to click the lock on the door before making his way towards you. “I didn’t expect that my target would be such a pretty girl.The name’s Leon by the way, nice to meet you.” “St-stay back!” You backed up further, trying to disguise the embarrassed flush as anger. You grabbed the closest lamp to you and lifted it as if it were a bat. ‘Wait – did he just say I was his target?’

He chuckled at your response. “C’mon, you don’t look like a fighter. Just relax and we can get this over with quickly, ok? It’s not my style to hurt pretty women if I don’t have to.”

“I said, s-tay back!” You tried to reaffirm again. When he ignored you, you swung hard, he easily caught you by the wrist and spun you so your back was to his chest. With one arm tucked behind yourself, he squeezed the remaining wrist so tight your hand was forced open sending the lamp shattering at the floor. 

“Knew you weren’t a fighter.” He purred in your ear, you could feel the stubble on his jaw rub against your neck, making you shudder. “Now that that’s out of your system, I don’t suppose we could hurry along to the part where you give me the info I need?” 

“Absolutely not!” You replied, squirming as much as you could against his grasp. He didn’t budge, grip like a vice. A disappointed sigh and hot breath on your neck stalled your movements for a moment as a shudder ran down your body, hyper aware of the muscles under his thin shirt, the smell of his cologne. If this had been some action movie instead of real life, it almost would’ve been seductive – right now though you were frustrated and scared. “So it’s going to be like that, huh? Well, don’t say I didn’t try to play nice.” He cooed before manhandling you over to the office couch that was pressed to the far wall. In a final attempt to get away, you threw your weight to the ground before he could get you on the sofa, and took off to run. 

It was short lived as he grabbed you from behind by your waist, hoisting you backwards and

tossing you onto the couch. Before you could try again, he was straddling your waist with his weight and gathered both wrists into one hand, pinning them above you against the wall. “You really wanna do this the hard way, don’t you princess?” He didn’t wait for your answer as he used his free hand to unbuckle his belt, removing it from his jeans in one swift movement, before latching it around your wrists and tightening it, hooking it to the metal peg built into the wall for keys and coats.

He moved off of you when he latched your hands, leaving you stuck there, hands above your head, wrists sore. “Fuck you! I’m not telling you anything.” There was a noticeable tremble in your voice, especially as he pulled his gun from the holster – which did not go unnoticed by him. 

He tilted his head with a little smirk.“I think that might be a great idea actually.” He set the weapon down on the small side table along with his knife before shrugging himself out of his leather jacket, revealing a tight button up and rolled sleeves. With the jacket off, you had a better sight of just how fit he was, muscles everywhere. You swallowed a gulp, not sure what great idea he was referring to and not fully deciding what emotion you were feeling now – fear, lust, both?

Your body made the decision for you as heat panged between your legs along with wetness. You squeezed your thighs together to alleviate some of it – a small gesture he also picked up on, the smirk on his face growing wider. “I’ll be honest, I’m used to a different kind of reaction when I meet women at work. Gotta say, I’m not complaining.” He separated your legs slightly and dipped two fingers between them under your skirt,, rubbing you gently through your panties. A gasp escaped your lips and you squirmed against the movement. “Atta girl.” He praised, using his free hand to hold you by your chin, making sure you were looking directly at him. 

The coiling pleasure between your legs had your head going a little hazy, eyes locking with his. ‘Fuck he’s handsome.’ Your nipples began to harden under your work blouse, as you took in his features further. 

His fingers sped up their pace, and he tightened his grip on your chin so he could lean in, whispering just against the corner of your lips, teasing a kiss. “Such a pretty, pretty girl.” His lips met your cheek softly, before he slipped his fingers into your panties, dragging slick from your hole up to rub against your clit more easily.

The change in sensation coupled with his words had you spilling over the edge, whining as your orgasm crashed into you, leaving your legs shivering. Leon pulled back, giving you a moment to catch your breath. He crossed his arms over his chest and flopped back against the couch casually. “So….now that we’ve established some rapport, are you ready to answer my questions about project D?” 

In a moment of post-pleasure clarity, your brain had finally processed the situation, leaving you shameful, embarrassed, and aggravated. “Of course not!” You said between pants.

His face morphed into thought before a realization overcame him, like a light bulb went off in his head. “You’re lucky I like ‘em hard to get.” He moved to unbutton your blouse, grabbing the knife off the floor to slice your bra open, both breasts spilling out. “So here’s how it’s going to work.” He made his way down to your skirt, unzipping the side and slipping it down your legs. “I already told you, I don’t like hurting women – but I never leave a mission without getting the intel I need..” He used the knife to make quick work of your panties as well, leaving you in nothing but your button up, slung open and dangling off your arms along with what was left of your bra. “So I’m gonna use another method to get you to talk.” 

You had a good idea of what his plan was going to be, and if you were honest the primal part of your brain was turned on in anticipation.  The working part of your brain still kept your lips sealed. “Try whatever you want, I won’t speak.” “We’ll see about that.” He unhooked you for a moment so he could flip you around, face to the wall. Expecting to hear the sound of his pants unzipping, you were surprised when instead he moved to lay down beneath you, and then it finally clicked what he was planning to do. “The safeword is ‘I’ll tell you.’ The catch is Princess, you gotta actually tell me what I need, otherwise I may have to keep this up.”

You didn’t get the opportunity to protest as his strong arms wrapped around your legs, pulling your wet cunt down against his face, tongue already darting out to lap at your sensitive clit. The sensation of the stubble rubbing against your thighs along with the wriggling muscle against your most sensitive spot made you whimper and moan, wanting to grab hold of something but being unable to in your bound state. 

Already more sensitive than usual from your first orgasm, it didn’t take long before you were grinding down onto his face riding out a second one. Unlike before though, he didn’t give you a moment to rest, holding your thighs in place tightly he continued to lap at your sensitive bud, making you scream. Your wrists yanked against their confines fruitlessly, your legs desperately wiggled, but he kept you exactly where he wanted you, as he continued to eat you like you were the last meal he’d ever have – third orgasm quickly being ripped from you faster than the previous one. “N-no can’t, too much.” Tears spilled from your eyes and stained your cheeks as he didn’t let up, your legs were quivering, muscles tight and sore, his belt digging into your wrists. “P-please….can’t….can’t any–” you were cut off with a choked whimper as your fourth erupted from your aching pussy. Never having had so many back to back, your body felt exhausted, brain not able to come up with any  more coherent thoughts. 

Luckily, he stopped this time for a moment, releasing the bruising grip on your legs and adjusting you so he could talk. You could see the upper half of his face, looking up at you between your legs, which wouldn’t stop shaking with aftershocks. “Look at you, only four in and you’re already sobbing and begging. Such a sweet-tasting girl isn’t made to be so stubborn, are you ready to say the words?” His voice was silk as he rubbed your leg softly adding to the temptation. 

You defiantly shook your head, lip jutting out in a pout, as tempting as it was, you weren’t ready to lose your life or career over this – but your will was wavering, especially between the different sensations of pleasure and pain from the ache in your arms. “Suit yourself.” He said, tucking himself between your legs again, returning to his position underneath you. One arm wrapped itself back around  your leg, but he had different plants for the other one, working it around so he could line his fingers up at your entrance, sliding two of them in until it reached the leather of his fingerless gloves, as he started sucking on your clit. 

Your velvety walls clamped down over the digits, the sensation beyond overwhelming as he began to pump them in and out, pleasuring new spots within you. Your brain finally short-circuited and began to imagine what it would be like with someone else inside of you, stretching you open. “L-leon…” you moaned out his name for the first time as he continued to work your hole, and suck on your too-sensitive pearl of nerves. Skilled fingers easily found that special spot that sent you reeling, curling them upwards to make sure each movement stimulated it.

In tandem with the external pleasure of his mouth, the last of your resolve crumbled. You came for the fifth time, head flung back, chanting his name like a prayer. This time when he didn’t stop, you couldn’t take it anymore, too tired, teary, overwhelmed, and exhausted. “St-stop…stop……I can’t……I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you.” You sobbed out. 

As promised his movements ceased immediately. “You sure?” You nodded in confirmation between sniffles. He slid out from under you, wiping his mouth with his sleeve before unhooking your sore arms from the wall, lying you down on your back, facing him. He removed the belt while you caught your breath, before he massaged the reddening marks on your wrists. “See? I knew a girl like you couldn’t be that stubborn. Now….ready to talk about project D?” You nodded again hesitantly. The next smile that graced his features seemed genuine, and while it was likely a trap you couldn’t help but fall for it, much too empty-headed to think about any potential consequences. 

Immediately you were answering every question he had to your best ability in your dreamlike state, he nodded eagerly and praised you for each good answer as he continued rubbing your body in a massage working from bottom to top, pressing small kisses against your skin as he went. He stopped after placing a brief one to your lips, which you pressed into without thinking.  The actions were effective, so much so you hadn’t even noticed you’d fallen asleep. 

When you woke a while later, the lab was still dark but the computer had been turned back on casting a light over to you. You could see Leon, sitting in front of it, a harddrive plugged in obviously canceling and copying the data transfer. Once Leon noticed you were awake he made his way back over to you, sitting on the end of the couch. “Sleep well?” You didn’t immediately respond, not fully ready to process everything that had just happened – like directly handing over intel to the enemy. “It won’t be safe to stay here now. Why don’t you come with me out of here – with my connections come certain protections. I’ll even buy you dinner so we can discuss keeping you safe.”

“Dinner, really? Do you offer that to all the ladies you go down on during missions?”  

He chuckled, “Only the ones I like” He leaned forward to rub his thumb over your cheek, causing your face to flush again. “Besides,I am nothing if not a gentleman and would never leave a damsel to distress.”  You rolled your eyes at the corny comment, but upon realizing he was right you agreed. “Fine. Dinner.”

“Atta girl.” He gave you a chaste kiss before returning to grab the harddrive from the computer and giving you a chance to fix your disheveled state.

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[addicted-to-dc]

Jekyll/Hyde - Taskforce 141 x Reader

Okay, didn't like the first fic I wrote so here's this one instead lmao. Still figuring out team dynamics... but I can't wait to explore moreeee.

Tags for those who encouraged me to write this. Thank you!!! @greeniegreengreen @aeilani @poetslastdeath (Thanks for the writing prompt!! Imma go crazier with it soon)

Content Warnings: Typical CoD violence, ptsd, reader is going to be unhinged (even more so in the next chapters).

“She’s not a good fit.” You were waiting for the line; another iteration of the same denial you’ve encountered everywhere you go. “It’s all solo work, can she even work with a team?”

Your throat burns at the statement. Despite the stabbing pain with each demeaning sentence, you can’t help but continue eavesdropping. Your file has lies written on nearly every page, all the ‘solo missions’ redacted and sealed so tightly even you couldn’t read them.

“John.”

Laswell is too kind to you, too stubborn, somehow seeing right through your heavily defended psyche. Playing matchmaker with the 141 is a mistake. These men don’t need you. You’re disposable, belonging nowhere yet everywhere. They already have a psychotic on the team, the position has been filled since the damned taskforce was created.

“Ignore the files, look at her.” The fucking PowerPoint. It’s like you’re a mutt she’s trying to adopt off. As if a photo of you would convince them to accept. You’re a liability. It won’t be long until you’re sent off on another suicide mission, doomed to survive and repeat the process over again. Laswell sighs. “She’s never been assigned a solo mission.”

“Lone survivor?” Says a new voice. The Scottish accent tells you it’s one of the sergeants, Mr. Mohawk. “Sounds familiar, eh, Ghost?”

There’s no response, a barely discernable grunt takes the place of an answer. Then this ‘Ghost’ speaks: “Jekyll and Hyde?”

“She’s a completely different person on the field. Jekyll specializes in intelligence, sabotage, and infiltration. A screw loose, yes, but Hyde…” You don’t belong here. They know it. You know it. It seems like Laswell is the only one out of the loop, but you will never doubt her stubbornness. Your stomach drops. “Hyde is unstoppable. She flips that switch… you have a wildcard that will turn the tide.”

Maybe you should just leave. Maybe you should take up Graves’ offer. He’d gladly take you, but you’re not sure what’s holding you back from finally pulling the trigger… you should really work on your wording.

“She’s survived alone for so long; she needs a team that can survive WITH her.”

You eye the window, admiring the view of the forested area that claims most of the land. This building is commercial, an office building repurposed for government use… and it seems they forgot to lock the window. It slides open with ease, and the 2-story drop is nothing. You’ve fallen from deadlier heights.

“JEKYLL!” You don’t bother turning around, Laswell’s voice ushering you to make a break for it into the forest.

Turning around, you salute them, sarcastically of course, and bolt into the forest as the group rips their own window open. Serves them right for talking shit when you can clearly hear everything. Your eyes flick around, spotting a sturdy enough tree to climb up. The forest is old, old enough to be your perfect personal playground. It’s been a while since you’ve been in one. It screams “HOME!” in your brain, but you shove that thought down. That home is across the world, your claim etched into the tops of the trees.

It’s not difficult to climb into a spot, it’s nearly as easy as breathing. The ambience of the forest is enough to take away the pain in your chest, the wind grounding you with its bite. Sighing, you slump against the bark and look upwards. The clouds look extra poofy today. A great contrast against the bright blue sky.

You close your eyes. It’s as if you’re there, survival being the only goal in your mind. Nothing weighing you down…

“Jekyll!”

You look down, disappointed that they found you already. War never changes and peace never lasts, including your own. Captain John Price glowers at you from below. You’re starting to feel a bit better, especially since this perspective is too damn hilarious. What a little, angry dude.

Ignoring the man, you slowly move from branch to branch. Running won’t solve anything, they chased you for a reason. Laswell did this on purpose. The revelation makes you freeze. Scowling, you whip around to face the men. “Look, I don’t appreciate Laswell meddling with my shit either, but mention anything about my teams again and I’ll cut your fucking tongues out.”

“Fair.”

Your eyes flick to Ghost, the darkest thing in the forest. It’s almost as if darkness clings to him. You could easily disappear, this forest is vast, yes, but it would be a walk in the park to a nearby town compared to your previous unsavory experiences. You know this, but it seems Ghost knows too. He’s tense, watching you closely for any tells. It’s funny, you’re doing the same thing. Great minds think alike.

“How’d you like the PowerPoint?” you lean against a branch, scratching a scar on your chin. “Was it the maroon or grey themed one?”

Silence, but then an answer from one of the sergeants, Mr. Mohawk. “Grey.”

You frown, allowing yourself to swing to a lower branch. “Funny, she said she changed it. Liar.”

“Laswell a liar?”

“All of you are liars,” you immediately throw back, sizing up all the men. “To others… to yourselves.”

“And you’re not a liar?” The other sergeant asks. Curious man, a seeker of truth. His determination is difficult to ignore, a sense of justice that could rival yours. Good. There’s not many left in this world. He shall henceforth be Sunshine.

You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Lies kill in our line of business, even the small ones, Sergeant. Not my weapon of choice. Now, are you rejecting me or not?”

“No.”

Now that’s interesting. You descend a few more branches. “Why?”

“The PowerPoint.”

You scoff, landing softly onto the forest floor. It takes only a few steps to close the distance. Hesitance invades your mind. This group will be different. You’ll just have to place your trust in Laswell and her mysterious ways. “Next mission?”

“Not much to go on, we’re waiting on Laswell for intel.”

Nodding, you glance at the team. “You going to bother introducing yourselves? Don’t bother, big boy, I already know who you are.”

Ghost looks like a challenge, very throwable. Maybe you’ll get a chance in the field. The Sergeants exchange glances. Aren’t they cute.

“Too late, you’re Mr. Mohawk and Sunshine now,” you state, adjusting your vest and walking away. “Give me 24 hours, Price.”

And with that, you leave the men alone to focus on your favorite task… digging for intel.

“Jekyll.”

You halt in your steps, turning around. “Yes, Captain?”

He steps forward. “You’re 141, we work as a team. You haven’t lost us yet.”

The pain returns, the ringing in your ears reaching a crescendo despite the forest’s calming aura. Blood, so much blood, gasps for breath and- Your jaw tightens, any more pressure and you’re sure you’ll shatter them. “Conference room 2.”

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

Thanks for reading! I really want to you (the reader lol) to pitch in and decide where to go! I think a little choose your own adventure would be cool. I'll start it up within the next chapter or two. I'm so exciteddd to write again. I hope my writing muscles aren't too decayed XD

If anyone has suggestions, do not hesitate to comment! I need more unhinged mutuals on here pls

[sanjoongie]

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕊𝕚𝕩𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟: ℂ𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘

🥀Pairing: Dragon Hybrid! Mingi x Bunny Hybrid! Reader

🥀Genre: Smut

🥀Rating: 18+, Minors Do not Interact 

🥀Au: Cotton Tails and Simmering Fires by @starlitmark and meeee, hybrid au

🥀Trope: established relationship, poly (background)

🥀Summary: when you crave some time with one of your busy boyfriends, the compromise turns out to be everything you need with an unexpected surprise

🥀Kinks: cockwarming, brief oral prep (m), cockwarming (she tried her best okay), special! dragon! cock, sudden female orgasm, soft! dom! mingi, soft! sub! reader

🥀Word Count: 1,241

🥀Betas: @flurrys-creativity

🥀Day Fifteen: Femdom/ Degradation 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Seventeen: Body Worship

The state of part arousal and part comfort you were in was slowly driving you insane. 

You had wanted some quality time with Mingi but it was the period in his semester when he had little time to spare, between reading and grading papers, and fielding student questions. So the two of you had come to a compromise. He was heading into his on-campus office early Saturday morning to get some work done and you were going along with him.

Mingi tugged you out of your nest with Jongho and Yeosang, blurry-eyed and a little whiny at being pulled from the warmth of your two boyfriends arms. Mingi told you with a gentle smile that he could leave you here if you really wanted to stay but when you remembered how much your heart ached last week, seeing him drag himself to his bed and collapse on it, you dismissed the offer immediately. 

In his office, which already had his faint personal smell of gingerbread, you sat on a couch that served as a bed when Mingi was too exhausted to drag himself back to the loft with the thunder. But it wasn’t close enough to your boyfriend. In fact, it was torture. Watching as the early morning lit hit his charcoal gray scales along his hairline, how his shoulder spread out his plaid shirt, the way his buttons looked like he was one big breath away from losing his shirt--

Mingi sighed rather loudly and closed his laptop. “Hops--”

Your ears pushed back in disappointment. “Don’t use my government name, Mingi,” You couldn't help but pout.

“I can smell the beginnings of sugar cookies like they’re in the oven,” Mingi continued, rubbing his face tiredly. “I can’t exactly nurse a hard-on AND focus on my student’s papers.”

“But--!”

Mingi sent you a stern look with his red slitted eyes and you deflated immediately. Not without adding, “You could use it though.”

“You’ve been hanging around with Wooyoung too much,” Mingi grumbled, “I am not bending you over my desk, Hops.”

You looked at Mingi with hopeful eyes. “It doesn’t have to be like that.”

Mingi watched you with a confused expression as you quickly rushed to his side at his desk. “I just want to be close to you. If you let me cockwarm you--”

Mingi groaned loudly and then clapped his hand over his mouth. “Hops,” he growled.

You threw up your hands in defense. “I’m not trying to trick you. I did it with San recently when he was gone for a business trip but I had a stacked schedule with my orders. It helped.”

Mingi scratched the back of his ear. “Yeah but I’m much bigger than San,” he reminded you.

“Can we please try?” You plead eagerly. Your tail twitched behind you, ears moving in anticipation and Mingi found he couldn't say no to you.

“Alright but--” He bit down on his lip just in time as your hands went to his pants immediately to undo the belt and the zipper of his tweed pants. “Treasure--” A delighted gasp left his lips as you pulled his cock out and pumped it to make sure it was hard for you. “Oh fuck.”

You sent him a sweet smile before taking him in your mouth. You gathered saliva in your mouth and bobbed on his length, taking in as much of him as you could before he hit the back of your throat. Mingi held your hair out of the way, partly to make sure nothing got on your hair and the other reason was to watch your cute little bunny mouth work on him. Just when Mingi was tempted to let you suck him off, you pulled off of him. 

You pulled aside the loose shorts you wore for easy access, and with the lack of underwear underneath, it was easy to brace yourself on his thick thighs, and play with the spade head of his cock against your already wet folds. 

“Treasure, be careful!” Mingi worried. 

No matter how many times he had taken you, he was always concerned with your comfort and his cock. Not only was the length and girth something to worry about, his head was spade-tipped, curved perfectly to push past pussy lips. There were also ridges on the underside of his cock, starting at his tip, AND three beads along the top side. Mingi’s dragon cock was definitely one of the more complicated breeds out there but you never seemed to complain about taking him.

In truth, even though you struggled to fit him inside of you, it always sounded like you loved everything that came with his cock. “So big,” You sighed, only managing his head so far. 

Mingi reached around you and rubbed a dry finger slowly around your clit, aiding in making you even more wet in order to take him. “You’re doing amazing,” Mingi encouraged you.

You slowly but surely sunk down on his length. Each ridge on his cock was like a landmark that you were getting it done. The relaxed way your pussy was swallowing Mingi’s cock was doing something to you, however. Mingi was still; he had massive control over his body, despite your tight, wet heat taking him centimeter by centimeter. 

“Mi-mingi,” You moaned softly. 

If you were being honest, you were drunk on Mingi’s cock. It was always like this getting it inside of you, but in this soft setting, the early morning rays making his office warm and Mingi’s heat at your back, you were lured into a sense of complete security. So when you rocked your hips forward to get the last final ridge on the underside of Mingi’s cock, it worked. However you were so wet from Mingi’s middle finger doing slow circles around your clit, that the remainder of Mingi’s cock that could actually fit inside of you slipped in. It was so sudden, but the sudden push of Mingi’s cockhead hitting your womb sent you into your climax.

You moaned wantonly, becoming jelly in Mingi’s lap and you collapsed back on him fully. Mingi could feel your cunt convulsing around his cock so he knew exactly what had happened. Luckily for Mingi, he had the control, and the practice of competing with Yunho over who would cum first, so he was able to hold on. He simply rubbed his cheek against your soft ears as you rode the waves of pleasure and settled down.

“Was that good, Treasure?” His deep voice rumbled from behind you and you simply nodded your head tiredly. “Words, please,” He prompted you.

“That was like having the slowest sex ever and then experiencing the most explosive climax,” You mumbled to him.

“Well, I hope it was that good because you’re going to have to remain here while I finish my papers,” Mingi announced, smacking a kiss on your head.

“Mingi!” You protested quietly. Because Mingi still was perhaps only halfway seated inside of you, so you were going to have to hold yourself up until the professor was done.

Mingi chuckled, the type that only came from a man who just gave his lover a good orgasm. “You wanted to cockwarm me, Treasure.”

“Yes, Mingi,” You said desolately. 

You settled into Mingi’s warmth regardless. Perhaps you could nap. Which would have worked. If Mingi hadn't pressed his hand to your stomach to see if he could feel his cock from the outside.

🥀Day Fifteen: Femdom/ Degradation 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Seventeen: Body Worship

[tamamita]

(apologies ahead of time if this is something you already talked about) you're very invested in this conflict and I am genuinely confused by some things, you seem to support hamas but from my pov they're a fascist organization that took power with military might, and oppress their own people. according to people I know living in israel they've been kidnapping, r@#!ing, and killing civilians. and I've been told any palestinians who speak against it or try to escape are labeled as traitors and executed. basically what I want to know is if you support hamas despite all that, why? what am I missing here? is everything people are saying despite being documented or even personal expereince from people I know is a lie? I understand not supporting israel and I understand supporting palestinians but I don't understand supporting hamas

I'm disappointed, because you say that you've been in touch with a bunch of Israelis, yet you've made no efforts to consult with a Palestinan. The Israelis aren't suffering; the Palestinians are and have been ever since the Nakba of 1948 (which I hope your Israeli friends mentioned), 105 years if we count the Belfour declaration. So next time, please consult with a Palestinian if you want to understand the occupation better than to consult with a bunch of privileged people living in an illegal settler colonial state. It's even more evident that you'll hastly accept any information from Western and Israeli-sponsored media, e.g Hamas mass r*pe, beheaded children, etc, despite the fact that they've been debunked to death now.

I support violent resistence against colonialism and imperialism. Israel has been occupying Palestine for 75 years, so the Palestinians have actively been resisting the ever expanding settler colonial regime. Once again, Hamas at its conception was initially funded by Israel as an attempt to undermine the secular and socialist resistance groups in Palestine. Indeed, the former IOF Brig. Gen. Yitzhak Segev confessed to Mehdi Hassan that Israel funded Hamas (thus being complicit in the creation of its outdated 1988 charter). The Israelis did not expect the blowback when Hamas grew to power after they secured power in Gaza. Hamas, for me, is just a resistance group that continuous to uphold its legacy of decolonization by actively fighting against the apartheid regime. Now you may ask, why not peaceful resistance? Habibi, the last time a peaceful protest was held, 200+ Palestinians were shot to death during the Great March of Return. Israel seeks to undermine any attempts for Palestinian self-determination.

As for the death and kidnapping of those Israelis. This was inevitable. Israel is NOT a safe & peaceful country, it is keeping an entire population of people inside a cage, while blocking them from food, water, electricity and humanitarian aid. Even UN secretary general António Guterres said, what happened on October the 7th, did not happen out of a vacuum, that was the culimination of 75 years of oppression against the Palestinians. It was obvious that the resistance movement would fight back, it is the government's damn fault for putting its citizens and settler villages close to world's largest open-air prison, while expecting everything to run smoothly. Indeed, surveys show that Israelis are blaming the IOF and the government for the lack of security which resulted in the death of the Israelis.

Now, even if Hamas was removed from the equation, did you forget about the Palestinians in the West Bank who are constantly being targeted by violent settlers? Do you think Palestinians have no right to self-defense when they are being subjected to harassment, torment and systematic oppression? Palestinian children and women are constantly kidnapped, r*ped, tortured to death, blackmailed, jailed for life under a conviction rate of 99% under Israeli courts. You tell me how Palestinians feel first before you consult with a bunch of Israelis who will never suffer a fraction of what the oppressed are going through.

[spencerreidafterhours]

*.~The Best Kept Secret ~.*

•Warning: 18+ (kind of idk) Discussion of smut

• Spencer Reid x Reader

~*Penelope finds out about you and Spencer’s… ‘relationship’

_________________________________________________

The best kept secrets of the Bureau were mainly tucked neatly in the filling cabinets of basements, locked in protected online forms, and in the minds of their loyal employees. But despite the cesspool of government information that swamped the organization, the most shocking had to be that Spencer and Y/N were fucking, at least it was to Penelope.

“I can not believe it, Y/N L/N” Penelope gasped for what had to be the 10th time.

“Why is me having sex such a shock for you Penelope” You laughed equally confused and entertained.

You knew that Penelope was hyper intelligent, but you still couldn’t believe how’d she’d been able to find out about you and Spencer’s relationship. You both made an intentional effort to seem natural around each other and keep things separate. But according to Penelope, it was obvious you guys were doing something. With the quick glances, intense eye contact followed with blushing and the way everything Spencer said all of the sudden became hilarious to you.

“It is not just you having sex, it’s you having sex… with Spencer! You guys are having real sex right, like he’s been inside you”

“Stooppp Penelope!!” You wrenched “Yes, I don’t know how else to say it, we’ve had sex!!”

‘Had sex’ in the since that it has been a weekly ritual that has been going on for a month and will probably continue this upcoming Friday

You still do not really know how this became a regular thing. You guys weren’t friends with benefits, at least you didn’t think, and you weren’t a couple. The situation-ship between you and Spencer was a secret that was not exactly ready for the world to know; because quite frankly, you didn’t even know what the secret was.

Is it the fact they were having sex or was it because they were coworkers in an inappropriate relationship, was the relationship inappropriate because they had feelings, did Spencer actually have feelings for her, did she really have feelings for Spencer, and if so where would the relationship go?

The whole thing spiraled when thought about too hard. So keeping it just as blissful moments that you replayed every night before going to bed or the times you’d let you mind wonder away from whatever case you were busy on.

You liked thinking about the way he’d look at you with those big nervous eyes, hair draped in loose curls, breathing heavy. How’d he moan into every kiss. His shaky hands as he’d undressed you.

You crossed your legs getting excited just thinking about it.

“Penelope you can’t tell anyone, ok?!”

“I know Y/N, I’m not”

“Not even Morgan”

Penelope let out a disappointed sigh “not even Morgan… but you can’t just leave me in the dark about this. Like I’m curious” Penelope paused and leaned in and sort of whispered “is he good”

You face got flushed and you could feel your heart pumping out your chest. “Yes” you said smiling trying your best to keep eye contact with the floor. “Really good”

You both let out an almost school girl laugh. It was fun and a bit of a relief to finally talk to someone about your sex life.

“What have you guys done” Penelope asked with a playful nudge

“I don’t know. Just things” Penelope gave you a glare that was truly not satisfied with your poor description.

“We did it in his car one time”

“Ahhhh Y/N L/N you freak”

The car was just so convenient . You’d ask him to drive you home after work and he’d park in front of your apartment. You’d entertain his weak conversation that he’d start in attempt to make you stay, he’d talk about articles he’s read and science facts (really unsexy things that are only sexy because it’s Spencer). He’d stare at your lips and you’d catch him. Then all of the sudden you both were breathing hard and leaning in closer and making out. It might of been easier just to do it in the comfort of your own home but you thought it was hotter in the car (and so did Spencer).

Sometimes you’d act like you had to go or you’d say something real coy like ‘what if someone sees’ just to hear Spencer beg you to stay. You’d ride him, or give him a blowjob, or climb in the backseat. If it was really good you’d have a second round in your apartment.

You could tell Spencer wasn’t that experienced by the way he’d approach everything with so much shyness. It was like he had to fight himself just to ask you for something he clearly wanted. But his lack of experience didn’t seem to affect his performance.

You’d think he’s bruised your cervix with the amount of times he hit it. All you could do was gape your mouth open and grip whatever was near when he’d slide into you. He’d look at you with innocent eyes and breathlessly ask “does that feel good”.

It’s hard sometimes to come to work and look in the eyes of the man who’s dick was just in your mouth a couple of hours ago and act normal. But you found it kind of flattering when he’d make eye contact with you during one of his presentations and he’d start adjusting his boner.

It was nice to have Spencer, for sex yes, but to also just confine in. It’s hard to sleep alone after those hard cases and it’s comforting to have someone right next to you when the night seems extra long. Spencer also once gave you a whole spiel about how orgasms are actually good for sleep because of oxytocin or something (his pillow talk is getting better). Truthfully, you’d hope whatever you and Spencer had wouldn’t end.

“Oh Y/N your growing up” Penelope said “next thing I know you’ll be taking a pregnancy test with me”

“Alright Penelope let’s not manifest that” you said with a nervous laugh

A nock was heard on the door, you both turned and speak of the devil himself it was Spencer.

“Hey Penelope have you’ve seen the paper wo-” he stumbled over his words making eye contact with you and he cleared his throat “the paper work for the case last month”. The air in the room shifted and all of the sudden everything was really awkward and you were getting sweaty.

Penelope gave you a knowing smile “no, but I think Y/N can help you find it”

Spencer looked at you, scanning you face and body “do you know where it is Y/N”

“Yeah umm I think it’s down stairs” you said getting out of your seat trying to avoid the knowing eyes and smirk of Penelope burning through your skull.

“Will you show me…where it is …downstairs” Spencer said adding more awkward to this conversation.

You just mouthed yeah and tried your best to ignore Penelope as you exited. “Have fun” she said laughing maniacally as the door closed.

“What was that about” Spencer asked putting his hands in his pocket.

“Penelope’s just in a good mood” you said rolling your eyes.

“So are we still on for Friday?”

[statementlou]

i feel like i can talk to you about this because you have rational opinions. so louis bought a starbucks coffee at the airport and the fandom on twitter are eating him alive, calling him evil and wishing he goes to hell. i’m disappointed since starbucks is on the list of brands to boycott but i feel like this reaction is too much? someone even said jay would be disappointed in him, but people said that was taking it too far. i don’t know, i love louis and i’ll keep supporting him and his music but the fact he can be a careless millionaire is disappointing

1. thank you sweetie I would boop if I could 2. oh my god it's a fucking cup of coffee and if people think that's the worst thing Louis, a multi millionaire, has ever done financially they need a reality check! His money will be handled by bankers who are putting it into all kinds of evil fucking shit that he won't even know about, it's actually very hard to know or control that and there is no way trying is even on his radar. That's a passive thing and not on purpose; but the fact that people don't bother to know about that or care really speaks to how performative this kind of online approach to activism is, that they only care about image rather than effect (the effect of his investments would be easily thousands of times more than any number of coffees or even of the promotion Starbucks might get from him holding it.) But furthermore buckle in cause you hit a nerve: Starbucks isn't even an actual organized boycott target as concerns Palestine because THEY HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THE ISRAELI GOVERNMENT financially! The official BDS movement calls for boycott of very specific and pointed targets of which Starbucks IS NOT ONE it's literally just an online trend which is not the same as an actual boycott to materially impact a target! Losing them money is always great, they are a crappy union busting small business killing corporation, but it has zero direct effect to help Palestinians unlike supporting the meaningful boycotts called for by BDS. I don't think Louis has decided to buy starbucks because he has this analysis, but to me it's a pretty important point. Him crossing an actual picket line (playing Israel, playing Eurovision [lmaoooo that thought tho], waving an Israeli flag god forbid) would be a very different situation and something that would trouble me so the distinction matters to me. But I get that to people on twitter, that's what they feel like he has done. To which I would say...

There are so many fewer ways to help Palestine than we would wish, and it's SO hard to deal with feeling so powerless right now in the face of such horror, so I love that people feel so strongly about doing whatever they possibly can. But worrying about consumer spending, even on BDS targets, is perhaps the least effective of the things a person can do. Note that BDS boycotts do not mostly focus on asking people not to buy things; they list the products that are especially complicit, but the main work of the movement is to get large investors (corporations, public institutions, whole governments) to divest from the companies targeted because that actually hurts them enough that it becomes less profitable to continue to collude with Israel than to drop them as clients. Consumer spending is not enough to do this. It's easy and doesn't require doing actual work but it's basically virtue signaling, not organizing. Just NOT doing something (yes including voting) is not enough! I personally choose not to give my money to certain corporations because it feels bad to me and I can't stomach doing it, even if they never notice me doing it. But if I was running out of fuel and the only nearby station was a Chevron, I would spend a few bucks there and not beat myself up about it because it will have zero impact on their overall profit reports but a LOT of impact on my life. And if I was in the airport for the second time in mere days after circumnavigating the globe and playing a massive show and doing press and fan service before even having time to adjust time zones and about to get on another flight to another country I might buy a fucking coffee from whatever coffee shop was in there too! But Louis isn't me and I'm gonna be real honest I would be real surprised if he KNEW there was a boycott or gave a shit- he is not a political activist! It's reasonable to be disappointed if someone behaves not how you want them to, but just in general responding to being disappointed in people by lashing out at them is... not it. Not useful, not rational, and not actually an okay way to act to other people. Louis is an awesome sweet caring person who I believe tries hard not to have a negative impact on anyone directly and who cares very much about others; if that's not enough for someone to be a fan of him, okay then they should not be a fan of him! But warning: they're not going to be able to be a fan of anyone else either. No one is pure and perfect... maybe that energy would be better spent trying to make a meaningful difference in the world, and a great first step in that IMO is to recognize and challenge your inner cop. The better world I want to live in doesn't include policing other people, not on twitter and not anywhere.

[ifwebefriends]

TRIGGER WARNING: misogyny and mentions of transphobia and bigotry in the video above

Comic dub of this ace attorney fan comic by @runby2 with permission from the artist

Huge thanks to runby2 for letting me dub their comic! Please go support them, he makes great stuff! This is one of my favorite Ace attorney fan comics. I know the sound quality on my voice is bad and I said the wrong word at one point but I did my best. I hope I did it justice (no pun intended).

[Video ID. A comic by tumblr user runby2 vocally dubbed by tumblr user Ifwebefriends. It is a fancomic based on the ace attorney games featuring Apollo Justice, Klavier Gavin, and Kristoph Gavin. Apollo looks determined at the floor with his arms crossed as he says “Klavier, I have to tell Kristoph that I am trans. I know you said if he hired me he already knows but,,, I want to be honest with my mentor!” Klavier, standing next to him and looking worried, waves his hands and says “nein,,,, nein forehead,,,” Apollo looks worriedly at Klavier and says “wait is he ,, transphobic??” Klavier responds “nein,, it’s just,, confusing-“ Apollo says back “then I want to tell him, klav! I made up my mind!” Klavier responds “I’ll,, come with you,,,” The scene changes. Apollo looks determined as he says “Mr. Gavin!!! I have… something to tell you!” Klavier, standing next to Apollo, looks dejected with his arms crossed as he says “ah here we go,” Kristoph is sitting behind his desk and looks concentrated and confident with two fingers to his temple as he says “ah, Justice. There is nothing you can tell me that I do not already know.” Apollo points confidently as he says “well, actually sir, how about THIS?” He then grabs his bicep and looks concerned as he says “I’m transgender” with a voice crack. All three of them are silent for a moment. Kristoph says “but, you ARE a man, yes?” Apollo looks worried as he says “well- yes! … technically -“ Kristoph interrupts “no.” Apollo questions “I- ‘no ‘?” Kristoph clarifies “you ARE a man, Apollo.” Apollo smiles and says “I- !! Oh! Thank you, sir!” Kristoph continues “thank god you’re not a woman. I despise women.” Apollo looks shocked and dumbfounded. Klavier silently puts his hand on Apollo’s shoulder while Apollo looks confused. Kristoph continues “that is why I too, became a man.” Apollo, curious and emboldened, exclaims “wow! Wait! Mr. Gavin, you were born ‘a girl’ too?” Kristoph responds “no. I was born a man. Keep up.” Apollo looks even more confused and Klavier looks away disappointed as Kristoph continues “I chose to become a woman to fully understand what it was like to become a woman. i choose my fate, justice. then when i fully understood what it meant to be a woman, i became a man again. that is why i am the best defense attorney, because i have conquered all gender and i fully understand what it means, to be both a misogynist and hate men. NEVER. assume you know more than me,, justice. i chose you for a reason.” Apollo replies “what abt nonbinary ppl,,” Kristoph looks smugly to the side before saying “‘nonbinary’… hahhah… Justice,,, do you SERIOUSLY think that I am a man, RIGHT NOW?” Kristoph turns to flash a smug smile with two fingers by his eyes as he says “i am more than a man and a woman. I identify as a man solely to fool the idiots who do not understand the spectrum of human existence. i chose YOU, justice, because you understand what it means to become more than what you were born as. I, right now, am a god among men. My gender has evolved past that of a simple male, or a simple female. I understand the binary and I use it to my advantage. I have both joined and fought against the bigots that run this government, yet they could not track me as I did so. I have handled what you understand as the gender binary and distorted it like a fine clay. That is what it means to be a lawyer. Do NOT forget that, Justice.” An endcard comes up that says “comic by @runby2 dub and sound editing by @ifwebefriends End ID]

[luminewhosthat]

TW: GUN VIOLENCE

Update: What happened in Bangladesh on 16th July 2024-

A student named Abu Sayed, age 25, has been killed by the gunshot of a police officer. His last moments were recorded, and it is given below:

On 15th July 2024, one day before dying, he wrote a post saying-

If I am martyred today, leave my frozen body on the street.

When the student society returns to the room with the victory procession, they will declare me the winner and bury me.

A loser's body will never be accepted by his parents

-Adnan Abir

Coordinator

Ani-discrimination Student Movement of Bangladesh

The boy fought fiercely and bravely; he didn't back down from the police. He had no weapon in his hand that were enough to hurt a man. But the polices continued to shoot him with a fucking rifle. He did not deserve this; he did not deserve this fate. He died with dignity; he sacrificed his life for the wellbeing of students. But unfortunately, the fascist government of Bangladesh disappointed us greatly by declaring him as a "Rajakar." Rajakars are those who collaborated with the enemy Pakistani Military Army on 1971 liberation war of Bangladesh. This is the current situation in Bangladesh guys. No student in the nation is safe after this incident. Abu Sayed came from a very poor family. His family members aren't well educated, they live in rural village. After his death, his mother and father broke down crying while saying that they raised Sayed with so much difficulty as they were very poor. Abu Sayed's sister also demanded that he deserves a proper funeral. But the sad thing is, the government will not recognize his martyrdom and declare him as a terrorist.

When will be the end of this? When will the Prime Minister finally realize that her country does not want her as their ruler anymore.

Here are some artworks of our brave Bangladeshi Students who are protesting through their arts and encouraging the students to go on with this mass protest and earn their human rights.

May God give those brave students strength, they deserve so much better. You know what they have been fighting for since the reign of Hasina? They've been fighting for Safe roads and streets, reform job quotas- are these even worth dying for?! Aren't these rights supposed to be implemented by the government itself?