#'oh bold of you to make yourself punchable'

[lizadale]

yeah, i don't think it would go as King Boo expects

(Boo jumps out of Mario before the first hammer swing connects. Luigi would pursue him, but he's busy being revenge-tackled by a very bruised Mario, who really doesn't care what's happening, just knows that Luigi hit him with a goddamn hammer and he needs to dispense noogies)

[prurientpuddlejumper]

A Punchable Face That I Want to Kiss, Ch. 1 [NSFW/18+]

Chapter 2 ->

Summary:  You can’t stand Frederick Chilton, but after he’s tortured and left scarred by a former patient, you are afflicted by an irrepressible desire to get him in bed.

This has been posted on AO3 for awhile, but I thought I’d post the chapters here! (Took the liberty of fleshing out the short smut a wee bit.)

2,380 words

Dr. Frederick Chilton was arrogant and unpleasant.

Everyone thought so, but most would dance around their hostility toward him with subtle digs couched in polite conversation. Not you. You weren’t shy about saying it to his face.

As he exited the courtroom doors, Dr. Chilton saw you waiting in the hall to ambush him, and braced himself for another soapbox diatribe. 

Such a shame, he thought. He recalled how he had tried to make a good impression when you first met, but all his charm kept backfiring, and now you patently despised him. His failure to curry favor was nothing out of the ordinary, but unfortunately, he still had to deal with you. You were one of Crawford’s lackeys, and had made yourself inescapable since Will Graham’s arrest.

“You conniving, idiotic, condescending weasel!” you exploded upon the man with an expensive suit and gaudy cane. “How could you get on the stand and make that bullshit testimony? You don’t know anything about Will!” You withheld the fuck-you’s that time, out of professional courtesy.

He brushed you off and continued walking briskly down the hall, cane tapping on the polished floor, but you followed and walked alongside him.

“Do I need a restraining order against you?” Dr. Chilton said, bored.

You crossed your arms. “Oh, hah-hah.”

“What is it, then?” he sighed, slowing down. Trying to outpace you was more trouble than it was worth, thanks to the pinching of scar tissue in every stride. “I am extremely busy.”

“‘The confused man Will Graham presents to the world could not commit those crimes, because that man is a fiction,’” you quoted his testimony.

“Correct. Is that all?”

“Did you ever consider it’s because he didn’t commit those crimes? You know, being the only one who thinks Will is a psychopath doesn’t make you a genius, it makes you an idiot. Or do you know that, but you’ve just been pining have him locked up so you can study him?”

“Incredible. Mr. Graham has found a truly gullible fool to place under his thumb. I have never met anyone so susceptible to his manipulations. Have you ever been tested for personality disorders?” He regarded you like you were a lab rat with a lot of audacity to be squeaking at him (though to be fair, that was how he looked at almost everybody).

You burned to keep arguing, but he walked down the courthouse steps and got into an obtrusively fancy classic car. Your heart was racing. You weren’t finished with him.

  *****

You seemed to be the only sane person aware that the sweet, empathetic, dog-loving Will Graham was obviously being framed, and did your best to visit him as often as possible at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.

Unfortunately, that meant dealing with its chief of staff.

Every time you visited Will, you ended up clashing with that pompous buffoon and his perfectly coiffed hair. He was notorious for his unethical practices, but since rich white assholes were incapable of being fired, it was your self-appointed job to protect Will from him.

Though, recently, you had to admit two things.

One: you may have been the tiniest bit biased by your fondness for Will, and two: your feelings toward Dr. Chilton had been softening.

Not long ago, Chilton had barely survived being tortured by a former patient, Abel Gideon. The sight of him on a medical gurney cradling his own internal organs in his arms was a horror that would be burned into your brain for life. He may have been an incompetent jerk whom Gideon had every right to want revenge on, but he didn’t deserve that.

You didn’t think he would survive, but in a few weeks, like magic, he was back to play Will’s jailer, a cane in hand but no other sign of the trauma he endured.

Too little sign of the trauma he endured, honestly. After all, he was only hurt because of his own meddling—using psychic driving to convince Gideon he was the Chesapeake Ripper in order to achieve the fame and glory of having treated the Chesapeake Ripper.

But no, he was still bursting full of egotistical remarks and ambition, if a little short on organs.

“I see the experience hasn’t humbled you one bit,” you commented upon his return, when he gloated about the accolades he would receive after writing a book about Will Graham.

“Funny, it almost sounds like you wanted me to be gutted,” he retorted in a pleasantly upbeat voice with a sharp undercurrent.

His rich-boy superiority complex did make it tempting to punch him in the face… but disembowelment was going too far.

Something changed after that. It used to be that you couldn’t wait to get away from him, but now you found yourself wanting to stay and fight longer, your cheeks burning with indignation. Days you weren’t visiting Will, you went to the mental hospital to crusade against Dr. Chilton over ethics and his lack thereof, just for the excuse to see him. 

The two of you exchanged cutting banter the same as always, but you found yourself being more civil... or, at least, your heated arguments felt more playful. Sure, you still called him a dirty slimeball, but now it was a friendly roast and not because you hated his (slightly damaged) guts.  

It was strange. Every time you argued your heart would pound against your chest in anticipation, but you couldn’t figure out why.

Your breaking point came when you barged into his office and discovered him spying on patients’ private conversations with visitors—headphones on, feet up on his desk, holding a Montblanc fountain pen in his mouth and swirling it with his tongue.

He didn’t startle at your unexpected entrance, as a person who feels shame might do when caught in the middle of something so sleazy. He was completely unrepentant about it. Sliding a headphone off one ear and picking up a glass of top-shelf scotch from his desk, he took a slow sip, and smugly asked, “Can I help you?”

What could you say to that? You felt your face heating up, so you turned on your heel without a word, and left. You finally understood what you had been feeling.  

You always took him for a coward—the type who runs crying to mommy the moment his knee gets scraped. But he’d been tortured, brutally, and still wasn’t running away. He got more than what was coming to him, but he didn’t change his manipulative psychiatric practices or grating personality at all.

As infuriating as it was… his resilience was sexy.

Like a switch was flipped, every time you sniped insults at each other, instead of picturing strangling him with his tie, you imagined blindfolding him with it, tying him to a bed and spanking him with his cane. He had the cutest way of shimmying his shoulders when he was trying to be coy about a secret, and that smarmy little crooked smile he made when he thought he was winning used to infuriate you, but now it caused an aching between your thighs. 

After weeks of this, he cornered you in an empty hallway. “Do not think I haven’t noticed you are here far more often than you need to be. You didn’t even talk to Will Graham the last two occasions you paid a visit. What is it, then? What’s your angle? Keeping an eye on me for Crawford?”

“Isn’t it obvious?,” you scoffed. “I want to fuck you.”

“Huh,” he vocalized with detachment.

You’d expected him to be flustered by the bold declaration, or to jump on you immediately. Not to coldly look you up and down like you’d handed him a strange puzzle piece to analyze.

It must have been a long time since he’d been intimate, considering his reputation as a Grade A piece of shit. But apparently he wasn’t that desperate.

To be honest, you weren’t even sure what his orientation was. You may have been completely off base.

“Fascinating, really. For someone who called me… what was it? A ‘morally corrupt assclown,’ you must be in a dire state to consider propositioning me. You know, as a respected psychiatrist, I can recommend some literature on sexual dysfunctions.”

A cold, satisfied smile spread over his thin lips and you realized if your attraction was one-sided, he held all the cards. You made the mistake of delivering him a massive advantage over you, and you were going to make a fool of yourself. He was relishing the power.

There was still time to backtrack on the vulnerability you’d accidentally exposed while he was still trying to figure out if you were joking. But you were around profilers, psychiatrists, and investigators with hidden agendas all day, and you grew weary of conversations having ten layers of meaning and obfuscation.

The honest truth was, it would be nice to get laid.

“Well? Are you interested or not?” You dropped your voice and stepped closer to him, inches from his face. He smelled so clean, like hospital antiseptic and spicy aftershave. His breath hitched as your leg brushed the inside of his thigh—that’s it, that was the reaction you wanted. “Do you want to fuck me, Dr. Chilton?”

Oh, he did.

A barely audible whine rose from the back of his throat, and his hands were around your waist. “I suppose so,” he said, still a little too clinically, though a hard bob of his Adam’s apple betrayed him. His eyes met yours. They were the color of an ocean wave crashing on the beach; an honest, North Atlantic wave that you might find at Chesapeake Bay—not some perfect crystal-blue wave from a tropical paradise. “It couldn’t hurt to let off some steam.”

“Precisely,” you nodded. Just two adults doing the logical thing. That’s right. No squishy vulnerable feelings that could be used against you. Just relieving tension.

He grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you hastily into the nearest unoccupied space. The door to the cramped supply closet clicked shut, and he leered at you with eyes that seemed to glow with hunger in the dark. You felt pleasantly like a small animal trapped with a wolf about to be devoured. A shiver of anticipation ran down your spine and sent heat rushing between your thighs. Before you knew it you were flipped standing with him pressed against your back, pumping into you with muffled moans—as frenzied with desperation as you’d fantasized he would be—as you braced against a metal shelf crammed with pens and packs of post-it notes.

He was strong. You had expected his suit to hide the flaccid body of a sedentary academic, fragranced of old books, but when he pulled your hips into his your body moved.

After finishing inside you with a ragged, tortured breath (barely choking back a too-vulnerable moan), he hastily zipped himself back into his pants and left you to clean yourself up on your own, without so much as a nod to ceremony or pleasantries. That was the end of that, you figured—exactly what you asked for, no more no less. Little did you know, Dr. Chilton had no intention of leaving things off at one quickie in a closet.

Before you left, he pulled you into his office and provoked you with lewd remarks about fucking you on his desk—so you knocked the clutter off it onto the floor to make room. He shrieked like a toddler as his very important papers and very expensive office décor went flying, having neither thought through the actual consequences of desk-sex nor expected you to call his bluff. His beautiful seawater eyes went wide as you pushed him back on the broad mahogany surface and climbed on top of him. Then you were riding him, chasing your climax with his well-manicured hands kneading your ass cheeks, pulling you deeper and deeper with each stroke of your hips. And still you wanted more. You wanted to fuck him into next week.

And then you were in his unreasonably lavish home, in his unreasonably, decadently oversized bed, his mouth feverishly working your heat, and you repaying him by making him come over and over until it was torture, until he could no longer hold back the whimpering sobs of pleasure as he fell apart, and he passed out from fatigue. You collapsed next to him on the bed, panting, sweating, and shaking with over-stimulation.

For a moment you considered the snoring body of an unsavory man you had exhausted into submission, lying naked and leaking fluids onto two-thousand-thread-count sheets, and briefly considered calling a cab. Then you went to the bathroom for a towel to wipe him off before curling yourself around him under the covers.

  *****

Morning found you nestling in his soft light brown chest hair, tracing your fingers along the raised red scar that divided a third of his torso like an autopsied cadaver. He flinched a little when you touched it, but remained impassive. A reservoir of sympathy swelled up within you.

“You pity me. That is why you wanted to sleep with me all of a sudden,” he said, deciphering the meaning of your look. “I’m not complaining. Apparently, to be fortunate in bed requires only that one be tragically disfigured. You are drawn to wounded birds.”

The corner of your lip screwed up like you swallowed something bitter. It’s… probably not healthy to desire someone purely out of pity, but he was right. You never felt anything for him until you felt sorry for him. But that wasn’t all there was to your relationship… was it?

“The instinct to nurture and the instinct to hurt are both strong human emotions. They’re primal,” you speculated.

“Trying your hand at psychoanalysis? I would leave it to the professionals, darling.”

“Would you?” You tilted your head innocently. “Then how come you’re still practicing?”

He clutched his chest and feigned being wounded.

Grinning, you buried your face back into his hair. “Arguing with you was always exciting… trying to land a stinging blow. Now I see you hurt, and I feel the need to protect you, too. You tickle my instincts, I suppose. Like cold ice cream on hot pie. What can I say?”

“Hmm, a plausible hypothesis,” he nodded idly at the ceiling, one brow lifted. “I’m not sure that that is any better, but as previously mentioned, your motivations are not of particular interest to me.”

“Charming. Let me phrase it another way, then: You have a very punchable face, but since you’ve already been eviscerated, it takes the fun out of it.”

“Well, and I was going to offer you breakfast…”

[minghaocouture]

Fearless: Chapter 10

Pairing: Werewolf!Jeon Wonwoo x Vampire!Reader Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Non-Idol Au Warnings: Language WC: 3.4k+ AU Lore:  Vampire Coven Info/Wolf Pack Info/Lore Info Tag List: @moon-asia @uglychildd @woozisnoots @hwangjangmi @rjsmochii @fluffyhyeju @darkacrimson @skjdln​ @moonchild9499​

Couldn’t Tag: @unbaeknownst, @Angelmingyu

A/N: We’re just gonna pretend it’s not 1am and I didn’t upload this super late lol. I also wanted to leave you guys with a little cliff hanger <3 

Chapter List:  Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 4/Chapter 5/Chapter 6/Chapter 7/Chapter 8/Chapter 9/Chapter 10/Chapter 11/Chapter 12/Chapter 13/Chapter 14

It was far too early for it to be this loud in this house. Running on a different internal clock than the other occupants of this house proved to be more of an issue to you than you had originally thought.

Now here you were, head hidden under a pillow as you tried to block out the rummaging and chatter from downstairs. You were trying to get over your previous prejudice of the wolves and their pack, but as of this moment you were finding it really hard not to keep hating them, if only for the noise they were all currently making.

A groan left your lips as you heard another loud crash from downstairs. Rolling over and burying your face into the mattress, as if that would help. Hell it didn’t even block out the small laughter in the room you were currently in. Peeking out from under the pillow, you glanced over to the bed that Wonwoo had slept in the night before. He was now sitting up and staring at you, laughing at your struggle. To add insult to injury he apparently decided that sleeping shirtless was something that was okay, even with you in the room. 

“Oh laugh it up, wolf boy. We’ll see who's laughing when I find a way to wake you up in the middle of the night.”

“I mean, I could always stay over at your place and give you the opportunity?” The suggestion had you quickly exiting your pillow hiding place and sitting up to face him. Eyes wide as you stared at him, confused by his sudden bold words. “Or...you could call me late at night until I wake up. That works too.”

Rolling your eyes at his quick backtracking and letting out a loud yawn, “I mean, the first one is kind of an option, but I’m still not too sure if i’m going to have a ‘place’ after all this is over with.” You retorted, lifting your arms in the air as you stretched. Working the muscles a bit so they would be less tense. You had been trying to not think about that. Becoming a stray wasn’t something you would want to happen, after all it wasn’t like you wanted to be basically alone for the rest of eternity. Which is what would happen if you were cast out, you definitely weren’t going to join a different coven. It’d feel wrong.

“Well, what’s...what’s the deciding factor? I, well none of us really know all that much about how Vampires work, well besides the basics. And...how to kill you.” That was fair, you barely knew about werewolf living. Deciding to lighten the mood a bit, a grin made its way onto your face.

“Alright, I’ll tell you that if you tell me why all of you look about the same age. It’s...actually kinda weird.” You knew that Werewolves weren’t immortal like Vampires, but something about how everyone in this house looked the same age was a bit off putting. It wasn’t huge, but it was strange, you figured that packs would have like older wiser wolves, like your Coven’s with the Venture, not just a bunch of people in their 20s. 

A brief moment of realization hit you, causing your eyes to widen as your thoughts raced. If you were Wonwoo’s mate and he was...only 20. That was, understandably, a bit weird. You were well over a century old, and if he was 20 you were old enough to literally be one of his great great great grandmother. That had to be creepy.

Apparently you had been broadcasting your thought process across your face, cause once again that familiar deep toned laugh spread through the room and causing a rather strange chill to tingle down your spine. It wasn’t a bad chill, just unexpected. Masking that feeling with an irritated scowl, you grabbed your pillow and hurled it at his head. Catching it, he placed it on the bed next to him before speaking up again.

“That actually has to do with our mates. We stop aging when we turn 20 until we find out mate. Well, find and actually uh…’mate’ with the mate.”

“So you won’t age unless we have sex?” You questioned, not bothering to tiptoe around the subject. “Wait...wait a damn minute. You won’t age unless we have sex? How old are you then?”

He paused for a moment, taking a minute as he seemed to be thinking about his own age. Which honestly was something you could relate to. After so many years alive, they kind of just start blurring together.

“I’m going to be 93 this year.” The relief you felt at those words had you letting out an audible sigh. At least you weren’t some creepy old woman compared to him, that would have just been weird if he had actually been 20. Well, to you it would have been. You knew others, mainly Soonyoung, would disagree. Though he definitely wasn’t the best example, considering he still considered himself to be 24 despite being 132.

Realizing that you had once again become lost in your own mind, you turned your attention back to Wonwoo and noticed that he was staring at you. The look in his eyes caught you off guard, it was almost as if you had just hung the stars in front of him with how intent his gaze was. It seemed that now with this mate business out in the open, he didn’t feel the need to hide anything. It didn’t make you uncomfortable, and in fact you wouldn’t mind seeing that look more often. Letting out a small cough to focus yourself once more, you decided to hold up your end of the exchange.

“So, technically all the major decisions in the Coven are made by the Inner Circle. Which includes our Venture, Soonyoung, the Primus, Junhui, as well as two of the other members, Minghao and Chan.” You began, unfortunately Vampire politics was extremely annoying to deal with at times, which is why you weren’t going to go into what a Venture or Primus was unless he asked. Thinking about it, you honestly didn’t know how Minghao put up with it all, he seemed to hate it almost as much as you did.. “I’ve technically got one vote in my favor, and probably one against me, but i’m not too sure how Chan and Soonyoung will react so it’s all up in the air.” 

You were pretty sure that Minghao was still on your side, at least you hoped he was. Despite his neck being on the line too, you knew that he wasn’t the type of person to throw others aside, he was loyal if nothing else. You could say the same for Junhui, but he had been pretty upset though, and if Junhui was upset then Soonyoung would probably listen to him and if that happened then you knew Chan would as well. So basically it all would depend on how Junhui reacted to you...walking out after yelling at him...and basically inviting him to kick you out. 

So you definitely hadn’t done yourself any favors. 

You hadn’t realized that Wonwoo had gotten up until you felt the bed shift a bit as he took a seat next to you, his hand reaching for yours and the instant comfort you felt at that contact was almost ridiculous. A thought passed through your mind, wondering if the feelings that were rushing through your brain were simply from this mate thing between the two of you...or if they were real. That would be a question for another day though. 

“I’m sure everything is gonna turn out fine. You gotta trust them a little, Covens are kind of like families right? Just like our pack. So i’m sure they’re going to look out for you too.” You weren’t sure if he knew how much those words meant, and you certainly weren’t going to tell him. After all, you had to keep at least some of your tough image. Though...around him you could probably drop it...just a little bit.

You felt yourself subconsciously scoot closer to him and without even thinking about it you found your head resting on his bare shoulder. He tensed at the added weight but soon the hand holding yours had adjusted to where it wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer. You weren’t sure if the Mate thing had anything to do with how you were feeling, but you weren’t about to move now.

“I’m sure you’re right.” 

You weren’t sure how much time passed, the two of your just sitting there in silence. But it wasn’t long enough.

The door to the room practically slammed open and you felt your body push itself as far away from Wonwoo as you could. Going so far as to even shove him away as well. Eyes snapping to the door you were greeted by Mingyu, who’s grin could only be described as ‘shit-eating’. He really did have a punchable face, and he was only proving it more. 

“Cheol wants you guys to come to breakfast.” He said, obviously holding back laughter as he looked between the two of you. If looks could kill, you were sure that Mingyu would have been dead twice over just from the look Wonwoo was giving him. More than that if you were being counted in the equation. 

You groaned as you watched Mingyu close the door, making over exaggerated kissing noises, followed by the sound of footsteps and him yelling something to the other wolves. Which you could assume was related to what he just walked in on. Meeting him for the first time, you were already wondering how someone like Wonwoo could handle being his roommate. 

“Is he always like this?”

“I love him, and he is my best friend...but yes, yes he is.” 

***

You were pretty sure you were only here so Seungcheol could keep an eye on you. It’s not like you were eating or anything, and the only reason you had a seat was because Sana was still bed ridden. It seemed that some people weren’t taking too kindly to you intruding on their breakfast, and the atmosphere had gotten so tense since you arrived. So it was going about as well as you had expected it to. 

A few of the pack, mainly Wonwoo, Vernon, Jacob and Felix, did try their best to seem welcoming but everyone else present was definitely more on edge with you around. Especially Changbin, and if you were being honest his constant glaring was starting to get a bit annoying. First he complained about having to keep the curtains closed while you were around, then it was he didn’t want to sit across from you at the table, and now it was a completely different story.

“Why does she have to sit in here? It’s not like she’s going to eat anything.” 

You felt your eye twitch ever so slightly, your jaw clenching in irritation. It was harder to fight your more stubborn and temperamental nature, but you were playing nice so attacking him (even verbally) would probably put you on thin ice. Despite knowing this, you weren’t one to sit back and get verbally harassed.

“She’s a guest, we’re not just going to make her hang out around the house alone.” Which was definitely Seungcheol’s code for, ‘she’s technically still an enemy so we don’t want to give her free range of the house’. It didn’t take a lot to read that guy, he was a good leader or Alpha as they called it, but he was an open book. 

Changbin scoffed, shoving another serving of rice into his mouth before he did. To his left Felix let out a small sigh, obviously wishing the other male was in a better mood. The male across from you, the taller stone faced one who you were fairly certain was named Hyunwoo, spoke up.

“Have you heard anything from the human? Or your coven?” 

His question had you shaking your head, but you did pull your phone out to check once more just in case someone had messaged you during, what you were calling, the worst breakfast...ever. You weren’t surprised to find a plethora of messages from Hyunjin, asking where you were and over all just kind of freaking out, there were also several from Siyeon, Kevin and Yuna, and even a few from Gahyeon and Eunbi. None from Minhyuk or any of the inner circle though. Which was what you expected. The inner circle was probably trying to decide what to do with you and well, Minhyuk likes hearing about the drama from a distance.

“Nothing from the Inner Circle, no. I am planning on checking in with Minah around noon, and if she agrees to the plan then I’ll go grab her from the bar and bring her back here.”

“And how are you planning on doing that? It’s not like you can go outside before dark and get her. And your whole plan is useless if the stray sees the two of you together. Or did you not think of that?” Once again Changbin decided to speak up, gracing your nerves with tiny spikes of irritation. “Or is there even really a stray in the first place! I still don’t believe you’re telling us the truth. You were probably just a distraction so one of your other disgusting friends could attack Sana.”

If you cared less about your phone, you probably would have broken it with how hard you were squeezing the device, but thankfully you knew self control. Or at least you pretended like you did. It seemed though, that Changbin was just determined to push your buttons, and you’d had enough.

“You know, I didn’t take this shit from my Coven, and let me tell you, i’m not going to be taking it from you.” You began, trying to cool your expression as you stared at the male at the other end of the table. You heard Wonwoo sigh from next to you, of course since he knew you the best he probably saw this snap coming. “Kiddo, you can hate me all you damn well want, but I want you to remember that I’m here to help you. So I’m gonna need you to back off.”

A loud slam sounded through the room as Changbin’s palms met with the hardwood of the dining table. A low growl slipped from his throat as he glared at you, obviously about to jump across the table to make this more of a physical confrontation. Silence fell over the room as his harsh gaze met your stoic one, sure you were pissed but this wasn’t the place to 100% lose your cool. From your side you heard a small growl leave Wonwoo as well, it was almost sweet that he felt the need to defend you, but you certainly didn’t need it. 

“You think throwing a tantrum like this is gonna make me leave?” You questioned, a brow raised as you stared down the male who you assumed was younger than you. “It’s not gonna work, I am the Queen of tantrums and loud outbursts and let me tell you now, you don’t scare me.” It was definitely stupid to edge him on like that, especially since you were a guest. You’d probably come to regret it later but for now you were going to show that you weren’t someone that just got walked over. He would understand that.

For a moment you wondered when you started sounding like Minghao, maybe his general attitude was affecting you after all this time. It was amusing to think about, if this was how he and the others felt whenever you acted out. You’d have to question them...well if things worked out in your favor that is. 

The air was thick with tension as the sound of a chair scraping against the linoleum cut through the silence.

“Changbin, sit down and finish your breakfast then go and get ready for your classes. ” It wasn’t too surprising to see Seungcheol standing from his seat at the end of the table. He was almost like a father, vaguely you wondered how old he was, it was impossible to tell just by looking at him. His eyes then found themselves looking directly at you. “And you, come with me.” 

Would it be safe to say you were in the doghouse now? 

Sliding your chair back, you felt something grab your wrist. Looking down you noticed it was of course Wonwoo, staring up at you with concern. Concern that you brushed off. Sure you had probably just pissed off the leader of the group that was housing you, and he could easily attack you or resend his invitation to the home which would end up hurling you outside into the unforgiving and burning sun, but that was too negative to think about at the moment even for you.

Despite your attempt at being nonchalant, Wonwoo gently tugged you closer to him so that his lips ended up right next to your ear.

“If you need me, just call.” the words caused you to chuckle slightly.

“You’re sweet, but I’ll be fine.” Was all you said in return, pulling away from him and following Seungcheol out the double doors of the dining room, to the right down the hallway and into what looked like a living room. 

Once inside, you heard a sigh escape from the male as he took a seat onto one the weathered arm chairs. He gestured vaguely for you to join him and sit down. Taking the free chair on the far left of the room, it was a pretty comfortable chair. You definitely weren’t thinking about taking it with you or anything though. Glancing back over at Seungcheol, you watched as he lifted a hand to rub the bridge of his nose. 

“You’re really not making this any easier for any of us.” 

“Excuse me, for not just sitting around and taking shit from someone who is probably half my age. If not younger. ” You retorted, rolling your eyes. You could tell from watching Seungcheol that he was a good leader, probably better than Soonyoung (though with Soonyoung gone all the time, the bar wasn’t super high to begin with) but leadership can definitely take it’s toll. 

“That’s the point. Changbin is only 33. He’s still technically a kid by our standards and he’s a little rough around the edges but…” he trailed off, you could see that he didn’t really want to talk about this. It probably didn’t help that you were a complete stranger. “The point is, even if he attacks first. If you fight back I have to be on his side.”

“That sounds like something a shitty leader would say.” The words slipped from your lips before you could even think of stopping them. You could tell that Seungcheol was taken back by them almost as much as you were. “I mean, should a leader be willing to tell their people when they’re in the wrong? I’m trying to play nice here for the sake of both of our groups, but I’m not just gonna let him talk shit to my face. Fixing things is a two way road, I can’t do this if he’s unwilling to even look at me without the intent to rip my throat out.”

“I understand but-”

“No, I really don’t think you do. I’m sticking my neck out to help you guys. I might lose my place in my Coven, my family, because I’m here. I’m not gonna do that, and get trash talked by a fucking kid.” The anger from the dining room, the fear from your current situation, everything seemed to be finally reaching a head. Your limbs shook lightly as you stared him down, not with an intent to fight, but with all of the emotions you were currently feeling. 

He lifted a hand, stopping you from continuing. The room filled with silence once more as he seemed to contemplate your words. After a moment, he nodded solemnly.

“You’re right. I guess we’re all trying to work on ourselves during this. If we do go through with the mission tonight, Changbin will stay home. I think it’ll be best for everyone that way.” 

Before you could respond, the loud tone of your phone rang through the room, signaling a phone call. Seungcheol gestured for you to answer it, which you were going to do with or without his permission. 

The caller ID was definitely not a name you were expecting to see. 

Soonyoung.

[ichor-and-symbiosis]

Mine. (Shigaraki x f!Reader; NSFW)

You let your jealousy get the better of you, and what better way to stake your claim on your leader than to pleasure him at his own throne?

It was you who remained stationed at Tomura’s side, just as it always had been. Not any of the original members of the League of Villains, and certainly not anyone from the newly integrated Paranormal Liberation Front. It was always you, devoted and madly in love with your leader.

But with his newfound power and influence came a disturbing realization — your position was under threat. You could see it in their eyes, the members who were willing to look past Tomura’s demeanor and appearance to charm their way into his inner circle. It made your insides twist into knots whenever you noticed it, the brazen smiles and obsequious compliments, and perhaps most aggravating of all was Tomura’s obliviousness. Either oblivious, or fully aware, and toying with his pawns.

You bit back a wave of anxiety at the thought. You weren’t just a pawn, you meant more to him than that.

Or so you think.

The rational side of you knew that if you brought your concerns up with him, he would think you were absolutely ridiculous. And you were, weren’t you? Even now, with him idly trailing his fingers over your forearm as he spoke to the recruits about his plans, you were fully aware of the dynamic — Tomura, lounging on his throne with casual ease; you, standing beside him and pressed up to the cold leather of the armchair as he diverted his attention to your presence; and the recruits, standing still and silently listening to his every word.

It was a picturesque scene, with everyone in their rightful places. Except you couldn’t help but notice one particular woman at the forefront of the crowd, her shrewd stare fixated on Tomura, like she was trying to get him to look at her. You had seen her before, always watching and waiting. What was her name again?

Who cares, she’s just another irrelevant nobody, you bitterly thought. Tomura murdered this sort of fodder with ease during the battle with the Liberation Army. She was nothing to you.

…

Her face looked unbearably punchable right now.

You sat down on the arm of the chair with your leg poised over the leather and moved Tomura’s wandering hand onto your thigh. He continued his speech without interruption, careful to keep one finger off of your skin. Only a handful of people dared to look scandalized by your unprofessional display, but you did not care. You could only smile in victory as the woman momentarily quirked a brow and frowned, before falling back into a neutral expression.

Oh, you did not like that one bit. With great difficulty, you shoved your emotions to the back of your mind and focused on Tomura’s touch, the gentle way in which he caressed your skin in idle patterns, in sharp contrast to the businesslike tone of his voice as he addressed the crowd.

The meeting concluded in swift order — Tomura always hated painfully long debriefings — and the recruits filed out of the giant auditorium in quick succession. All but one.

You didn’t even notice her snaking around, not with Tomura coaxing you into his lap to straddle his hips the moment everyone began to leave. Before you could lean in to demand a kiss, the woman’s purring voice echoed throughout the chamber.

“Leader.”

Tomura’s arms stiffened around your waist. “What do you want?” he snarled over your shoulder, and you angled yourself to glance back at her.

The woman drew as close as she could to the towering stage, smiled pleasantly, and clasped her hands behind her back. The move would have been strictly professional if not for how it caused her chest to perk up. I need a damn drink, you bemoaned to yourself.

“I merely wanted to discuss some points you made during your speech,” she smoothly replied. You noticed how she avoided looking at you, as though your very presence was nonexistent. “The infiltration protocol is sound, but may I suggest — “

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Tomura rasped condescendingly. His hold on you tightened. "I don’t need anyone’s input, least of all from some random rookie. Fuck off.”

You snickered, busying yourself with smoothing out his tie.

The woman remained unperturbed by his acerbic retort. “Oh, absolutely, sir!” she fawned. “I merely assumed you might be interested in hearing other opinions. You are so different from Re-Destro. He simply loves surrounding himself with yes-men, but I know you value input from your peers.” She lowered her voice and batted her eyelashes. “It’s one of many qualities I respect you for.”

You sneaked a glance at Tomura. He was staring her down with pure, unbridled boredom, eyes glazed over and mouth fixed into a grimace. “Are you done?"

“Well, yes, I — would you like to — “

“See you walk the fuck out? Yeah. Indulge me.”

“Sir — "

His expression twisted into an angry snarl, and the woman had enough common sense to shut her mouth. ”Now,” he growled.

“I — I … “ Confidence finally wavering, she nodded and looked away. “Apologies, sir.”

Tomura glared at her as she promptly disappeared, still tense and ready to lash out. You trailed your hand from his tie towards the side of his neck, smoothing your fingers over his many scars to caress his cheek and turn him to face you.

The instant he met your questioning gaze, his sour demeanor melted into mild annoyance. He leaned into your touch and closed his eyes, sighing as you stroked your thumb along his cheek.

“I don’t like how she looks at you,” you admitted, the edge in your voice betraying your attempt to appear nonchalant.

Tomura opened his eyes and quirked a brow. “What do you mean?” he asked, alert and serious. “You think she’s gonna try something?”

“Isn’t it obvious? She’s trying to get on your good side for a reason.”

Tomura paused, considered your words, and scoffed. “You’d think these idiots still opposing Re-Destro’s decision were all taken care of by now. I guess this one slipped through the cracks.” He began to move you aside to rise from his seat. “Let’s go get rid of the trash.”

You blinked in confusion and looped your arms around his neck, forcing him to lean back into his chair again. “I’m not saying she’s trying to murder you!” you said in exasperation, and felt the beginnings of a blush creep onto your cheeks as you realized the hole you had dug yourself into. “Forget it, I’m being stupid. Ignore what I just said and make out with me.”

He eyed you curiously, lips drawn into a flat line. “I think you know I’m not gonna let this go without an answer.”

“Are you sure you want to waste time like this instead of smooching your girlfriend?”

“You’re already wasting time by being obtuse.”

You glared at him. Big mistake — this man could make flowers wilt with his stare alone. You relented with a deep sigh, hiding your face in his neck as you muttered, “She was flirting with you.”

Tomura was silent for a moment before forcing you away from the comfort of his warmth with an incredulous expression. “Tell me you’re screwing with me.”

You pouted. “Didn’t you see how she was trying to act all sultry? She was giving you looks and moving around all seductively!”

“I thought she just needed to take a shit.”

”Tomura!”

“Listen, you’re the one who noticed it, not me.” He smirked. “You into chicks, too?” You ignored the heat burning your face and attempted to wriggle out of his hold, but he was deceptively strong, pulling you tightly against his chest. “You’re jealous,” he snarked accusingly, his mouth curling into a sharklike grin.

You struggled weakly in his grasp before altogether succumbing to his desires, letting him sneak his hands under your shirt to glide up your sides and teasingly run his fingers along the edge of your bra. The tantalizing touch made you shiver. “It’s not just her,” you whispered. “There’s a lot of other people who want you.”

“And?” His lips were so close to yours. You tried to capture his mouth in a kiss, but he quickly moved out of reach and grasped your lower jaw in a firm hold. “If you feel threatened, then what are you going to do about it?”

What were you going to do?

His thumb swiped across your bottom lip and you obediently opened your mouth to let the digit run along your tongue. Tomura watched your lips wrap around the tip and come away with gentle suction, lightly raking your teeth against the pad of his thumb as you went.

Tomura’s expression darkened, red eyes honed in on your every move. You gripped the lapels of his suit and held his stare as you slowly grinded down onto his clothed erection, unable to stop a broken moan from escaping. He gripped your hip and roughly met your thrust, his hand on your jaw now digging into the hair at the nape of your neck.

“Please,” you begged, although for what, you did not know. All you knew was the burning ache of desire you felt for him, and you needed to feel his desire for you.

He regarded you with a shrewd expression. “Get on your knees,” he commanded, leaning back to recline on the chair, hands resting comfortably on the armrests instead of on your body.

Your eyes widened, and you awkwardly sat in his lap as he fixed you with an expectant look. “S — someone could walk in,” you shyly murmured, yet despite your trepidation, you could not resist running your hand down his chest to palm his bulge.

“Yeah, they could.” He leered at you, lip curled into a half-smile. “I bet you’d like that, too. You dirty slut.”

You cheekily grinned at his bold statement. The dangerous thrill of getting caught was a fantasy you both shared.

You dug your fingers into his thick hair and pulled him in for a deep kiss, coaxing his mouth open to entwine your tongues and nip at his bottom lip, all wet and desperate and needy for him. Tomura moaned against your mouth and wrapped his arms around you. It was one of life’s simple pleasures, to succumb to his demanding, overpowering kisses, to hear the little sighs and feel the strain of his muscles as he fought the urge to throw you down to the floor and take you right then and there.

But you would not be so lucky this time. Tomura suddenly wrenched your head back, and you slightly winced at the pain as he rasped against your bruised lips, “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The hunger in his stare was undeniable, as was his growing impatience. Balance was the key — tease him just right, and you would have him right where you want him. Push him too far, and you would have to submit to his will entirely. The variety of options at your disposal was perhaps the most exciting part about belonging to him, almost as exciting as it was to know exactly how to provoke him to get what you wanted.

Eager to please your king, you wordlessly shimmied away from his lap and slowly slid onto your knees between his spread legs, smoothing your hands down his chest as you went. His hand kept a firm hold of your hair, no longer pulling yet reminding you of his undisputed authority.

Your face was inches away from his crotch, and the sight of his arousal shot sparks of pleasure to your very core. It was embarrassing to realize how little self control you had, the seat of your panties entirely too wet and rubbing uncomfortably against you.

But now was not the time to think about yourself. Your fingers untucked his shirt from his pants with one hand as you kissed his exposed skin and stroked his straining bulge. Tomura growled, shifting his hips to clearly signal his need. Ever the obedient one, you quickly unzipped his pants and helped shove them down with his underwear just enough to free his erection, unable to keep yourself from blushing.

Before you could process what you were doing — down on your knees, in full view for any unfortunate soul who happened to appear — you let Tomura guide your open mouth to the tip of his cock, reveling in the sound of him groaning shamelessly as you licked away a drop of precum and trailed your tongue around the head and down the underside of his erection, pausing to kiss and suck gently as you went.

His grip slowly eased away as he relaxed and slumped back, carefully moving your hair behind your ear and idly caressing your flushed cheek. You ran your hands along his upper thighs and settled on his hips, feeling the strain barely contained within his tense muscles. His cock twitched in anticipation once your lips wrapped around him, and you dared to look up at him as you slowly took whatever you could of him, pausing to pull up in a sucking motion and coming back down even deeper than before.

Tomura’s crimson eyes were blazing. It was exciting to be the focus of his unpredictable attention, and oh so tantalizing to know that you did this to him.

“You look good like this,” Tomura murmured, low and wicked. “This is where you belong, isn’t it? Because you’re mine." You hummed in agreement as you licked and sucked, earning you a choked moan.

You couldn’t help it — you had to touch yourself, you needed to feel some sort of relief, even with his cock nearly fully down your throat. You tried your best to be discrete about it, parting your legs and sneaking your hand down your pants, but Tomura was nothing if not perceptive. His grip on your hair returned, holding you in place as he thrusted into your mouth. You fought to ignore the sensation of drool trickling down your chin, playing with your clit for a moment before curling your fingers inside of you at the same pace as his languid movements.

“It’s not — nnnhh — it’s not fun if — aah — if I can’t see,” he murmured, angling his head to the side expectantly.

You weren’t too sure what he wanted from you. Without thinking, you reluctantly removed your fingers and held them up for his viewing pleasure, concentrating on swallowing around his length and bobbing your head to the rhythm he demanded. Tomura moaned in appreciation and grasped your hand, and that was the only warning you got before the feeling of something warm and wet close around your slick fingers, and you nearly came right then and there once you registered that he was licking you clean.

Tomura kissed your knuckles when he finished, chuckling wickedly as you tried to rub your thighs together for some sort of relief. “Want me to come in your mouth and leave you wet and desperate for me down there?”

You made a sound of disagreement, petulantly pursing your lips around his cock as you defiantly looked up at him. His confident grin faltered, yet despite the irritation and confusion coloring his expression, he eased his hold on you to let you come up for air. You came away with a wet pop, chin covered in saliva and precum as you took a moment to breathe.

His eyes hungrily trailed over your parted wet lips, and you felt all of your breath escape you once more. “I — I don’t want to be beneath you like them," you whined, the chill of the great hall creeping along your back as though in reminder. “I want to — I … I want … “

Tomura bent down as he firmly grasped your chin to look up at him. The harsh solidness of his prosthetic did little to soothe your nerves. “Say it,” he hissed.

Your heart hammered in your chest, and your thoughts slipped past your subconscious to paint him a lovely picture of what you so desperately imagined. “I want to ride you,” you blurted out, and you had no time to feel mortified by your forwardness, not when you were being wrenched upward and back into his lap so earnestly.

“Then take a seat,” Tomura snarked, grinding his length along your exposed cunt — when the hell did you remove your pants — and grabbed hold of your shirt with all five fingers, grinning at your shocked expression. “What are you waiting for? The throne is all yours.”

As your clothing crumbled to pieces around you, you gaped at him and stuttered, “Tomura, how the heck do you expect me to parade around headquarters without clothes?"

“Is that really what you’re thinking about right now when your cunt is dripping all over my cock?”

You dug your fingers into the furs of his coat, mentally promising yourself that you would steal this overdramatic ensemble later. “You are infuriating, you know that?”

He canted his hips upward, and you bit your lip as he suddenly entered you. “And you’re testing my patience,” he gruffly replied, and he had the utter nerve to look bored. “Seems like you don’t really want this as much as you — “

You yanked him up by his tie and smashed your lips against his, swallowing his grunt of surprise and shoved your tongue into his mouth. The heat of his length throbbed inside you, and you took him in as deep as you could in one swift motion, whimpering at the momentary sting before the delicious sensation of being filled coaxed you to move, and the pain dissipated to heady pleasure.

Tomura moaned and sighed and panted against your mouth, unsure of what to do with his hands as his fingers trailed over your skin, destroying your bra to play with your nipples and cup your breasts. “H — harder,” he petulantly demanded as your lips disconnected, pumping up into you with such force that you bit his bottom lip and groaned loudly.

“You want me?” you coyly breathed out, giggling at the needy look on his face as you placed your hands on his shoulders and slowly circled your hips in his lap. Tomura wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed open-mouthed kisses along your neck and down your collarbone, reverently sucking bruises into your skin. You pulsed around him just to hear his little whimper. “How does it feel, Tomura?” you whispered into his ear, shivering at the sound of wetness as you met each and every thrust. “How does it feel to be beneath me?”

“Feels fucking perfect," he groaned, nails digging into your sides as he sucked your nipple. “You feel so good,” he repeated, licking a trail across your chest to give attention to your neglected breast.

You arched your back and cried out as his thumb found your clit, the fire steadily building inside you and ready to burn you whole. The noises you were making were obscene, only overshadowed by Tomura’s unrestrained moaning. With the grand size of the meeting hall, there was no doubt in your mind that the echoes were traveling throughout the area. Good, you thought. Let them hear what we do to each other.

But it wasn’t enough. Not for you, not when you needed to remind him of who made him such a sweaty, flushed, broken wreck.

So while Tomura bucked up into you with all the energy he had remaining, you curled a hand over his throat, feeling his pulse race beneath your fingertips. You hold was firm yet tender, dangerous in its potential yet comforting in its possessiveness. Tomura blearily looked at you, transfixed by your overpowering aura.

“Say my name,” you commanded.

And he did. All high-pitched and breathless, as though it were ripped from his soul yet begging to be released.

And he kept saying it, crying it out as you buried your face in his neck and shuddered and came, and he practically choked on his final words — I love you I love you you’re mine — before he thrusted into you one last time, dragged his nails along your skin, and reached his peak with a torturous groan, pulsing deep inside you as his seed trickled out and down your inner thighs.

The silence that followed was no less deafening than the cacophony of scandalous sounds moments prior. Tomura slumped into his throne like a rag doll, his head resting against the back of the chair as he closed his eyes and wiped away the sweat on his brow. You sighed and kissed his neck, thankful for his warm arms wrapped around you to keep the coldness of the surroundings at bay.

“I must have fucked you senseless too many times to make you start thinking I give a damn about anyone in this shitty world other than you,” Tomura casually quipped, because of course this man could not resist putting an end to a romantic moment.

“Rest assured that you’ve fucked all sense back into me,” you tiredly replied. “You have no idea how many people are looking your way these days.”

"It’s not my fault I’m so irresistible."

You giggled. "The suit and sneakers combo really gets them going."

“Naturally. Don’t forget the ruined skin and missing fingers.”

“Hey.” You pulled back just enough to fix him with a stern look. “I love that about you.”

Tomura searched your face for a moment, his eyes softening as he smiled. “Only you are crazy enough to put up with me.”

“And don’t you forget it,” you fondly said, letting him pull you in for one last lazy kiss before he wrapped his fur coat around you.