#and his high heel wearing ass is not helping the stereotypes

[ryemiffie]

More quotes from my day as gravity falls incorrect quotes:

Mabel: Gee Bill, way to go be a gay stereotype! Freaking with your thigh high boots and getting along better with girls than guys and.. world domination I guess also??

Bill: My bad dude.

[klausysworld]

(Y/n is a prostitute in this story, if that’s something you don’t like then don’t read. Some of the things are stereotypical around this line of work, please don’t take this personally or to heart)

Money and Sex

Money and Sex.

The two things Klaus Mikaelson always had and always would have.

Paying for sex wasn't often necessary for someone like Klaus. Most women were throwing themselves at him for free, it didn't matter which century it was or if they were married. They wanted him. And Klaus was always for than happy to indulge. His appetite was relentless.

Sometimes just knowing that he had money was something that enticed them. If his looks alone weren't enough then he wasn't opposed to letting them have a glance at his wallet which would almost always guarantee that he would wake up with at least one woman in his bed the next morning.

However there were the occasions that he would actually pay for a service. Whether it was a just a blow job or a quick fuck or a full night in his play room. It was when he couldn't be particularly bothered to charm a woman into sleeping with him and so would just give some lucky prostitute the night of her life instead.

However this time was a little different.

Y/n was gorgeous. Each strand of her hair was perfect, her delicate neck, her defined collarbones, ample breasts that would fill out the pathetic excuse of a dress she would wear, her tight little waist, well-rounded hips, beautifully thick thighs and desirable long legs that supported her plump ass and met her dainty little feet which were always clad in either a seductive stiletto heels or thigh high heeled boots. Round her shoulders would hang an oversized faux fur jacket to keep at least part of her warm while she sat in her usual booth and played her innocent little act even though everyone knew she was anything but.

Her lips were painted red, eyes often matching in colour along with a thin line of eyeliner to make her iris’ stand out. Everything about her was seductive, sultry. Klaus needed to have her.

Each night he would observe her, she would gain the attention of almost everybody there. Some hated her presence and some absolutely obsessed over her being there. She would always go home with someone different and Klaus would always spot multiple notes being slipped into some part of her outfit as a promise for more.

If money was what she wanted then money was what she would get.

After too many nights of feeling his gaze on her, too many incidents of Y/n catching his stare and smiling sweetly at him only for him to look down at his drink with a smirk and avoid her eye for the next hour, she decided to make her way over to him.

Klaus had just ordered his second drink when a soft hand slide up his arm to his bicep and began to caress soothingly. His eyes glanced down and to the side to see the wine-coloured nails stroking the sleeve of his Egyptian-cotton shirt. He looked back to his glass of whiskey with a knowing smirk.

"May I help you sweetheart?" He questioned as he turned around to face her. Y/n's eyes fixed on him and she smiled innocently at him.

"A drink would be nice" She told him and he hummed, clicking his fingers for the bartenders attention. As soon as the worker saw Y/n they slid her usual drink of choice across to meet Klaus's hand. The hybrid then held it out for her and she took it with a flash of her teeth at him. "Thank you, handsome" She purred and his eyes darkened with desire.

Klaus took a sat in his usual little area and opened his arm in a welcoming gesture. Y/n sat on his thigh in response and smiled as his arm went round her to keep her there. His jaw clenched as he looked her over, the little silky dress she was wearing was basically just lingerie and allowed him a delightful view of her body. He could feel the warmth radiating from between her legs against his thigh and he couldn't wait to play with her.

"You've been coming in here a lot lately" she mused as she sipped her drink with one hand and toyed with the buttons on his shirt with the other.

"Mm" He hummed, "Drinks and entertainment, what more could a man want?" he questioned, turning his head to look at her with narrowed eyes.

"Entertainment?" She asked, looking around. It was just a bar, a popular one yes but just a bar. Occasionally there would be an even or something but not often.

Klaus chuckled and slid his fingers under her chin and brought her gaze back to him, "Watching someone as enticing as you saunter around, finding who will offer you the most. I've grown to enjoy your little game"

"It's not a game," she countered "It's a living"

Klaus grinned and let his hand slide up her thigh to the edge of her dress, just before her panties though part of him was curious if she was even wearing any. She swatted his hand away and he chuckled. "Forgive me, princess" He smirked and pulled his wallet out. Y/n narrowed her eyes as he plucked a hundred dollar bill and held it for her to take. Her eyes flicked to his with distrust.

"I hope you don't think that's enough for me to go home with you" She scoffed and he chuckled.

"Sweetheart this is just for me to be allowed to put my hand on your leg. You'll be payed for each little thing I do to you. Believe me, by tomorrow morning you'll have enough money to get out of this...job" he smiled and winked at her.

She hummed unconvincingly and took the money, allowing his hand to feel her thigh and squeeze the flesh as he pleased. She tucked the bill into her little purse that he hadn't noticed and got comfortable on his lap.

Klaus kept her there for hours. Drinks kept coming for them each and Klaus had given her another $100 so that he could kiss her skin, her neck more specifically. She agreed however he wasn't allowed to leave marks which annoyed him but he didn't push it.

Another hundred was given for kisses on the lips, an extra fifty for tongue. Klaus found it amusing how she would tilt her head and raise a brow at him, knowing that he could afford whatever she wanted. Thankfully Klaus was more than willing to tuck the money into her hands as many times as she wanted so long as he god his requests.

He pulled away from her mouth and brushed his lips over her ear. "How much for a little dance, hm princess?" he whispered lowly and she scoffed.

"Here?" She questioned, and he nodded. Y/n looked over his face as she thought about it. This man was loaded, she knew that, he knew that, everyone knew that. She had already made $350 and he hadn't even touched her anywhere, nor had he mentioned bringing her home with him. Some nights she would get that much for actually fucking a guy. But this gave her $100 for a kiss so by that logic... "$500" She answered and his brows rose.

"$300" He offered and she narrowed her eyes.

"$400" She compromised but still saw his gaze unwavering so she slid her hand down his front and let it press against his crotch making him suck in a breath, "Unless of course...you can't afford $400 for a lap dance?" she suggested, giving him a look of faux understanding and he scoffed.

"You want $500? You'll get your $500 once you show me how good you can be. Now dance for me." He demanded with a little smack to her ass making her roll her eyes but comply. She straddled his lap, slowly rolling her hips against him and running her nails up and down his chest through his skirt. Klaus leaned back and slide his hands onto her waist, caressing down to her hips and encouraging her to gyrate against him. Klaus watched her move erotically, his cock pushing against his trousers as she ground down on it. His mouth found hers and his tongue pushed inside to taste her as his hands moved under her sexy little dress to squeeze her ass. His kiss grew hungrier and so did his hands, so did his dick.

Y/n had to pull away with a giggle and grabbed his wrists. "Easy, handsome. I put on shows one person at a time, not for the whole damn bar" she told him and he groaned softly. He quickly pulled out the five $100 bills and slotted them between her tits, his eyes lingering.

"Then It's time to go to my place" he mumbled, lifting her up without waiting for an answer and pulling her legs around his waist. His hand grabbed her ass, holding her dress there so nobody saw the thong that didn't cover a thing.

Y/n smirked and slid off him and onto the feels of her boots. Klaus's hands held onto her hips from behind as he lead her to his car and opened the door for her. She laughed at the gesture and sat down, letting him closer her door and start driving. Klaus sped home, parking quickly outside of his mansion and getting out. He opened the door and pulled her out, tugging her along with him and through his front doors.

"My god" She whistled. "Should've charged you a thousand for that dance huh?" she teased and he chuckled.

"Be good for me tonight and I'll give you much more than just a thousand." He told her, pulling her hands close and kissing them both. She gave him a provocative smile and stepped to stand right up against him.

"Tell me what you like, handsome." she whispered with a knowing smile and he hummed, his hands stroking her cheeks and jaw before his thumb brushed over her bottom lip and pulled it down to make her open her mouth. She licked his thumb with a grin before reaching for his pants and curling her fingers round his belt. "You wanna show me somewhere comfy?" She asked and he nodded silently.

Klaus let her hold onto his belt as he brought her up the stairs to his bedroom. It was huge, basically had its own living room. Leather seats, fireplace, TV, bottles of whiskey or scotch or whatever, the biggest bed Y/n had ever seen, walk in wardrobe, god there was just everything. Y/n's apartment would fit in his room tenfold. Klaus watched her eyes dart around as she took it in.

"It's all yours tonight princess" He murmured seductively as he pulled his belt off, letting the leather slip through her fingers before tossing it away and stripping himself bare. Y/n wetted her lips as she glanced him over, his broad shoulders, smooth hard chest, abs that were visible but not overly prominent and defined apollos belt. Her eyes fixed on his cock, it was thick, long and hard. She hadn't doubted that it would be impressive; a man like him had it all.

Klaus opened his wallet and pulled out a thick wad of hundred dollar bills and set the on his night stand.

"There's $9,150 there. You take that home with you in the morning along with the $850 from earlier and you've pocketed $10,000. That enough for you, sweetheart?" He questioned with a smirk.

Y/n stared at the money. It was way to much not to take but part of her couldn't help but worry. Was he planning to do something horrific and this was to make sure she didn't tell?

"I don't do knives" She whispered, her voice uneasy.

"That's okay, I didn't plan on using one" He answered and she hesitantly nodded.

"I want a safe word" She told him and he tilted his head.

"I don't aim to harm you tonight princess. I'm here because my cock is in desperate need of attention only you can sate." He chuckled, "The money is because I have it to give. You will not come to true harm under my hands however if a safe word makes you feel safe then a safe word you shall have. Should you say the word 'Red' then ill stop, 'Amber and I'll slow it down, good?" He offered and she nodded.

"Okay" she whispered, shaking off the feeling and smiling at him. "Sorry, handsome, didn't mean to be a mood killer. C'mon lets get you in your fancy chair!" she grinned and pulled him over the the leather, throne-like seat the sat opposite the fireplace that wasn't currently lit. Klaus smiled back at her through hooded eyes and sat back in his chair as though he were king.

Y/n slipped down onto her knees with a simper and gazed up at his through her long, painted lashes. Klaus opened his legs a little wider for her to crawl between. Her elbows rest on top his thighs so that her hand may ever so gently stroke his stiffened cock. The hybrid gave no reaction other than an exhale of air through his nose. She eyed him as she lifted the palm of her hand and began to stroke him firmly.

She knew his type. They wanted control of everything and didn't ever want her to know that she was making them lose it for even a second. Which meant that her aim that night was to have this man a panting mess. That was the only way he would be truly satisfied, that's what ensured that she fucked better than any other girl out there. That way why she was in business so often, because nobody did it like her and Klaus knew that.

Her fingers squeezed his shaft tight, watching as his jaw clenched and she could correctly assume that he was biting his tongue as her thumb rolled over his cockhead perfectly to tease each nerve. "Did you like that?" She asked amorously. Klaus's hand slid into her hair and gripped it tight.

"Put those pretty lips to work" He demanded and she obeyed. Her cherry-red lips wrapped around his tip, sucking softly while one hand stroked his length and the other teasingly caressed and fondled his balls. Klaus let his eyes close and head fall back as he felt the wet warmth of her mouth encase his cock and move along his shaft slowly. She didn't need to tease him, a couple good flicks of her wrist and he probably could have cummed right in her face but she decided to make it last because she knew that was exactly what he both wanted and needed.

She moved slow but precisely for a good while before his hand started pushing her head further, encouraging her to start moving faster and taking him deeper. With her profession, even if it had only been a couple years, meant that her gag reflex was basically nonexistent. Her through swallowed him down like it was nothing and she moaned around him like a damn pornstar until he couldn't help but buck his hips and groan.

"Fuck princess" He grunted, both hands forcing her head up and down to meet his fast-thrusting hips. Y/n kept her eyes on his, watching him as his brows pulled together and his mouth began to breathe faster. His eyes swirled into a dark storm and a raspy moan left him before I was roughly pulled off his cock and shoved backwards. Her hand reached back quickly to catch herself from hitting the ground while he groaned and his cock let out thick ropes of cum across his abdomen. Her eyes widened at the pure amount of cum that shot out of him before his body calmed down and he was looking down at her. She smiled back at him with a small smile.

Klaus reached his hand out and she shook it, he stood and guided her up onto her feet before leading her to his bed. Klaus sat down, moving his pillows out the way so he could sit up against the headboard. Y/n followed his lead and straddled his lap, she let his cock press against her cunt as she pulled her thong aside.

"You want me to ride you handsome?" she questioned, tilting her head innocently. Klaus stroked her jaw with a smirk.

"You know that I do princess. Come show me how well your pretty pussy can take me" He purred and she hummed.

"Condom first, handsome" She told him, holding out a little packet for him but Klaus just scoffed and cupped her jaw, looking into her eyes.

"I don't need to wear a condom, I'm clean and infertile" he compelled and she smiled, tossing the packet away and getting back to her job.

Klaus's hands lifted the silky little dress up to her hips to watch as her pussy engulfed his cock. She sunk down onto him and he groaned. If he was honest, he hadn't expected her to be nearly as tight as she was due to her line of work. Y/n slid her hands up to his neck as her. hips slowly began to ride his dick. Klaus inhaled a deep breath or air and squeezed her waist gently between his hands.

"Tell me how fast you like it, handsome" She murmured as he watched her pussy slide along his cock.

"Usually?" He mumbled and she hummed. "Usually I like it fast" He admitted.

"You like it rough, handsome?" She purred, clenching her cunt around his cock to hear him groan.

"Fuck, yes sweetheart!" He moaned and she smiled.

"Do you want to fuck me fast and rough, handsome?" She whispered, leaning forward to brush her lips against his cheek. Klaus sucked in a breath and nodded.

"Yes princess, yes I want to fuck you till you scream" He growled, his hips bucking upward to meet her movements. Y/n hummed softly and caressed his neck, her body bouncing on his cock with an increasing pace. Klaus groaned softly and gripped her body tighter, his fingers digging into her sides. Her jaw clenched as she felt the bruises forming but she knew not to push his hands away when he was so into it.

She moaned softly in his ear for him, encouraging his thrusts to pick up. Her mouth left a trail of wet kisses down the side of his neck, sucking the skin into her mouth and nipping gently. Klaus grunted, his grip getting tighter again as she clenched around him over and over.

His eyes closed as he listened to her moans and felt her swollen lips against his skin, her blunt teeth scraping against him. His cock felt as though it was throbbing inside her, he couldn't help but grab her body and bounce her up and down on him as though she were just a little fuck doll. His breathing grew ragged and his mind went cloudy. A long groan vibrated in his chest as her sweet cunt milked his cock of his cum. Y/n's fingers slid into his hair, stroking his head as he came down from his high.

"There you go, handsome" she murmured softly, smiling when his eyes opened and locked back onto hers. He frowned a little bit, he knew that she was a prostitute or however she wished to label herself but he didn't like that she didn't seem an ounce impressed or satisfied. She tilted her head at his frown and her expression faltered. "We can keep going if you need, honey?" She whispered, petting his head and kissing his lips sweetly.

Klaus cleared his throat and lifted her from his lap. He shook his head and pulled a smile to his face. He kissed her deeply, his hands rubbing along her body to turn her on. She took this initiative as a sign that he was ready for more so dropped her hand down between their bodies. Her fingers wrapped around his thick cock, stroking him firmly once again making him moan softly. His hips thrust involuntary against her hand and he pulled away.

Klaus grabbed her wrists, lifting them above her head making her raise a brow and lay back for him to take what he wanted. Klaus narrowed his eyes, seeing it as a challenge. Without warning she was flipped onto her stomach, arms still pinned above her head with his hand applying pressure to keep her down, not that she was struggling.

Y/n arched her back and lifted her ass, pressing herself against Klaus's dick provocatively. His eyes bled gold as he let go of her wrists and grabbed her hips, lifting her ass higher.

"Keep your hands up" He ordered and she grinned.

"Yes, handsome. Anything you say." she murmured, swaying her hips seductively in his hands as she felt his cockhead sliding between her ass cheeks as he groaned softly. His hands creeped under her lacey little dress and cupped her generous breasts that were not supported by any sort of bra. He gave a firm squeeze making her moan lowly before her mouth feel open as his cock pushed into her fast and deep.

"That's right sweetheart, cry for me." He uttered as he started thrusting into her from behind. Her body jolted forward with each force of his thrusts. His body collided with hers time after time, skin slapping harshly and Y/n just knew her skin would be red by the end of the night.

His fingers caressed over her nipples, tugging on them to make them stand out. Y/n let out a moan of genuine pleasure, it was different to her ones from earlier which make Klaus smirk and roll her nipples tightly, twisting them until a broken cry left her and her as smacked back against his hips.

Her hands remained above her head the entire time he took her. Not once did her obedience falter. Her cunt grew tighter as he carried on and he had been angling his hips precisely in an attempt to find just the sport to make her squirm. Y/n knew exactly what he was doing but could feel his cock tremble inside her as it ached to release inside her again.

Y/n curve her back, pushing her body back to meet his fast and powerful movements, his control was slipping and he began to forget what his aim was. All he could feel was her warm, wet, tight pussy stroking his so good. Pulsing and squeezing around his cock until he couldn't breath. Each time his balls slapped against her ass his sensitivity heightened that extra bit more

Soon enough Klaus was a mess, his body collapsing on top of hers as his cock buried into her, his tip snug against her cervix while he pumped her womb full. Y/n slowly brought her arms down from above her head and dragged herself out from under his weight.

Klaus groaned quietly as he came to.

His eyes fluttered back open to the feel of her nails gently scratching the top of his back in a way that soothed something inside him. Part of him hated that those nails were just brushing him rather than being dug into him but the other part loved how soft she was in the moment. He wondered if this was a routine, fuck em hard and then pet them to sleep.

Klaus rolled onto his back and locked his gaze with hers. She smiled back at him and leaned down to kiss his lips. It made him feel as though he had known her forever. His mouth pressed back against his with passion, his hand tugging on her hair until she groaned.

She pulled away slowly and tapped her fingers against his chest. "I just know you have more to show me, handsome" She whispered, her voice alluring. "I bet you have lots of toys you're just waiting to play with" She hummed, circling the tip of her nail around his nipple making him hiss softly. Y/n smiled as his hands went up her thighs and she let them fall open for him.

Klaus groaned softly as her cunt glistened and shone. His tongue wetted his lips and he couldn’t help but pull her close and kiss his lips. Y/n hummed softly as his fingers slid through her folds before he pulled back from the kiss and sucked the taste of her from each of them.

“You ready to play, handsome?” She murmured and he nodded, like a boy under a spell. He shook off the haze and pulled her to him. Klaus glanced to his drawer, it was where he kept things for special occasions. Y/n followed his gaze with a smile and stroked his jaw. “Go on, honey. Show me what you got.” She purred, encouraging him to slide her onto his lap and take her to the edge of his bed. He pulled his drawer open and she peeked inside with an amused smile. She lifted the handcuffs and the spanking paddle, placing them on the bed with a hum “I don’t know…I figured you’d rather use you hands for that kind of thing” she teased and his eyes darkened as he pictured his hand meeting the red-raw flesh of her ass until she cried. Y/n continued to pull out a pair of nipple clamps followed by a ball gag and some anal toys. She turned her head to him with a smile "For men, women or yourself?" She teased and he chuckled as he took the toys away from her hands.

"Depends on the day" He answered and she hummed, stroking his chest and glancing to the drawer which still had items buried but he pushed it closed making her pout but accept his wishes for privacy.

Klaus pulled her into another kiss, distracting her mind as he pushed her back against his bed and slid his hand up between her legs to feel and rub at her cunt. Y/n moaned softly into his mouth as his fingers went at her clit, he was desperate to watch her cum.

However no matter how long he fingered her for, even when he could see that she was genuinely enjoying herself, he couldn't get her over that edge. So he started to use his mouth too.

Y/n assumed he was a guy who got pleasure from the validation of pleasing his partner so she was happy for him to do as he was. Her hands tugged and played with his hair while her hips rocked against her will. Over the past couple years she had managed excellent control of her mind and body but she couldn't help but grind back against his hands and tongue. Klaus was by far the most skilled client she had experienced.

As the night continued, Klaus fell apart time after time again as he fucked as hard as he could and then a slow as he could in an attempt to pull that desired orgasm from Y/n. By the time morning came around they were both still panting as he clung onto her body and rutted his hips against her and rubbed his hands over every inch of skin she owned. Y/n was positively exhausted, her body was overstimulated and oversensitive but she didn't utter a word about it. She made sure to keep her eyes open and continued to utter words of admiration and appreciation to him, knowing now that it would make his finish faster and harder.

When Klaus came inside her for the last time, he locked his eyes on hers. He promised himself that this would not be the last time she would be in his bed. He would have her here as many times as it took for him to learn everything about her body, everything that made her tik and exactly how to get her over the edge.

He offered for her to sleep for the morning in his room as she hadn't been able to through any of the night hours but she shook her head and promised he had done far more than enough. He kissed her goodbye and assured her he would see her again very soon.

And he did.

Klaus would go back to that bar every night to watch her saunter her way through the men there. He would always order a drink for her and offer her a smile and a wink. This continued for a few months before she stopped showing up.

Klaus was immediately alarmed, she wasn't the type to just stop. So he started asking around but nobody knew, most didn't care.

He wanted to continue his search however was called to New Orleans by a witch. Much to his surprise he found his brother sat beside a pregnant prostitute with confusion, fear and distraught written all over her face for she was carrying the very first tribrid baby.

[existslikepristin]

Lol, I don't know what's wrong with me. Just fuckin read this.

Thanks to @midnightdancingsol for the thorough editing and @worldsover for the help with the ending because that shit was killing me.

Tags: NSFW, TheLounge, Purple Kiss, Swan, super sexy words, porn tropes, I really should have written just literally anything else honestly, widdle cotton candy cheekie-weekies going commando

The Cutest Duckling

The design and layout of the room were brutally obvious. White walls, black couch, dark wood desk, floor-length windows with aluminum blinds, and several high-quality cameras hidden from each others’ views with one shitty prop camcorder at the center of the desk.

It was brand-name casting couch bullshit, and therefore exactly what Swan was looking for. She rubbed her palms together deviously before adjusting her cage bra, ensuring maximum cleavage presentation.

The door creaked open and an exhausted middle aged man walked in. Swan sat up, arching her back in the most stereotypically sexy way she could manage. The guy paid absolutely no attention to her, sitting behind the desk and flipping through a small pile of papers. He opened his mouth as if to speak but wound up yawning instead.

Swan took matters into her own sexy, seductive lips. “Hello, Mister Director,” she breathed.

“Hey. Uh…” He didn’t so much as look up. “Swan? I don’t see a surname here.”

Swan shoved her shoulders back. Her tits were massive as far as idol standards went. Surely they could grab the director’s attention. “Oh it’s just Swan, sir. But you can call me whatever you want. Sexy Swan. Slutty Swan. Sss… Swan… Sultry. I’m a barely legal teen with huge melon jugs and a thicc, juicy ass, and I’m willing to do aaanything to become a famous pornsta—”

“Looks like you opted out of condoms. Alright. Uh…” He clicked his tongue a few times.

“What should I call you, sir?” Swan practically whispered, giving the top of his balding head a smoldering, half-lidded stare, just in case he ever looked. “Just ‘Sir?’ Maybe… ‘Daddy?’”

He still didn’t look up. “Oh sorry. Name’s Lee Sungjin.”

Swan dug her nails into her palms and cracked her neck. Why the fuck was it so hard to get laid?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sung. Jin. What a strong name. Will you be the big... sexy man taking advantage of me when we turn on these cameras? I sure hope so.”

“No, that’ll be Ju-Won. He’s getting fluffed right now, but you met him right?”

Finally, she was getting somewhere. She definitely hadn’t met him. “I haven’t, no! How exciting! I looove fucking strangers!”

“Shit. That’s not good. Uh… fluffing can wait. Ju-Won! Get in here!”

The sudden shouting spooked a jump out of Swan, but she quickly recovered. Sungjin’s eyes were lifting. She picked her heels up, making the stilettos look taller. She scooted forward, letting her skirt hike itself up. She puffed her chest out even further, praying that the deep V of her shirt’s neckline would rip in half. “I can fluff him myself! I specialize in... inducing intense lust.”

It was happening. Sungjin was really going to look up. He was going to see Swan in her tightest outfit. It was finally her time!

“Don’t worry about it, he’s gotta be hard when he walks into the r—”

Swan pursed her lips. Was she really so hot that he lost his words? Excellent. She knew her next words. They were rehearsed thoroughly in the mirror. Do you like what you see, baby?

“Oh my god, you are adorable!”

“Fucking dammit!” Swan screamed. Why did this always happen?

“Hey Ju-Won! Get in here! This girl is the cutest!”

Swan leaned forward, pointing a threatening finger at Sungjin. “No! No. Don’t you dare. I will deepthroat your goddamn cock! So far back in my throat!”

The door cracked open and a fully nude, erect man resembling a brick wall in both build and voice walked inside. “Sup boss?”

“Take a look at this chick, Ju-Won! She’s just an absolute button!”

Swan stomped off the couch. “Shut your whore mouth! I am a voluptuous vixen here to coax all the baby batter out of your balls and wear it like a necklace!”

The awkward, mostly one-sided escalation continued. Ju-Won scanned Swan up and down a couple of times. A stupid grin crossed his face. “Woah, you’re super heckin’ cute.”

“Isn’t she though? Hey Swan, how’d you get so cute?”

Swan steepled her fingers in front of her nose and took a long, deep breath. Surely this wasn’t real. This had to be a nightmare. “How about you two fuck me at the same time? Give me a DP.”

“Hey, you know who she reminds me of?” asked Ju-Won, completely ignoring Swan’s proposition for a threesome, “One of those round pink jiggling puffs.”

“Churlish mother fucker!” Swan snatched the camcorder off the desk and snapped the viewfinder off over her knee, then yanked her skirt up, revealing her lack of underwear. The men laughed as if they were watching someone else’s child throwing a small temper tantrum after being refused a toy with their meal. ��Both of you! In my asshole! At the same time! Anything!”

A young woman with neon blue hair popped her head through the door, dabbing some saliva away from the corners of her mouth with a handkerchief. “Dude, you’re not due to come in here for like five minutes, we gotta keep you… Oh gosh, who is this delightful ball of fluff?!”

Swan lashed out and grabbed a handful of the girl’s hair, pulling her face down into her spilling cleavage. “Is this what you guys want to see? Some lesbo action?!”

“Awww,” Sungjin cooed. “Chohee made a friend!”

Sure enough, the woman’s arms wrapped around Swan in a loving embrace. Swan looked down. Ju-Won’s cock had gone soft. Fury bubbled up inside her. She pushed Chohee away. “Lady… fucking please. Sit on my face. I’ll eat you out fo—”

Chohee pinched Swan’s cheek. “Oooh, I couldn’t sit on this pretty little face! I wanna see these widdle cotton candy cheekie-weekies!”

“Chicanero—oow owowow!” Swan threw all her weight into a haymaker into Ju-Won’s glistening, rock hard abs. Her pillowy arms, however, were not made for violence. She cradled her throbbing wrist tenderly against her fluffy bosom.

“Oh no! Poor baby, do you need a kiss on the boo-boo?” Sungjin came around the desk, looking genuinely concerned.

With big, glistening, tearful eyes, Swan snapped back. “I want you to kiss my boobs!”

Three sets of warm, comforting arms wrapped around Swan from every direction, simultaneously infuriating her and making the pain fade away.

Ju-Won, being so much taller, nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. “It’s okay, honey bear, we’ve got you.”

Swan struggled and elbowed her way out of the group hug. She pouted, but in a totally sexy way and surely not in any way that could be construed as cute. “How about you get your dicks in me… and spit roast me!”

Swan steeled herself for her final resort. She grabbed the hem of her shirt, grit her teeth, and pulled up. Her cage bra didn’t have any fabric except for the “bars,” which all met at gold rings that circled her nipples. It wasn’t made for support. It was made to maximize lewd stares. It was her secret weapon, her big guns. Or in her case, big boobs. It had to be worth an “ooh” or an “aah” or maybe even a little drool!

Instead, it got a round of three “Awww”s.

Swan ripped the shirt the rest of the way off and flung it to the floor. “I’m done with this shit!” she shrieked as she stormed off set, “Someone on the street is going to fuck me and you’re all going to be jealous!”

She slammed the door on the way out, screaming bloody top as every staffer she passed, despite her curvaceous nudity, squealed or cheeped about how adorable of a little duckling she was.

[shi-chimera]

Balan Wonderworld headcanons have been rattling around in my head for a while now so I'm just gonna plop them here. Enjoy, don't enjoy, whatever.

◇General◇

-The Balan Theater is MASSIVE and works much like the door in Howl's Moving Castle. Anyone can access it from a number of dilapidated old buildings if they know which ones to look for.

-The theater has at least two dozen rooms, a large restaurant style kitchen, a full bar, and a massive library with window seats, a day bed, and roughly five thousand books at any given time. The books change out at random because the library has a mind of its own.

-Other rooms include Balan and Lance's bedrooms (they live in the theater), Balan's office, and some guest rooms and lounge/living room type spaces. Some of the rooms have flippable floors and sliding walls to convert them into smaller or different rooms.

-The building also has a small rear courtyard with a single, ENORMOUS tree in it. There are also some small flowerbeds and in one corner by the building is a dumpster.

-The theater's porch lights indicate if an exterior door (i.e. an entrance) is active or not. If the lights are on, the doors are open!

♡Balan♡

-Balan feeds off positive emotions and energy. It's part of why he entertains people. Smiling people are happy and happy people keep him going.

-The most extra person you can find, and has a fixation with his appearance. The smallest stain or speck of dirt, loose thread, etc. and he LOSES HIS MIND. He WILL throw an absolute drama queen level spectacle. Everything he does is over the top.

-High energy, so much so that he tends to fidget, pace, or other wise be in constant motion to burn it all off. He's also ambidexterous, but favors his left so you're likely to see him writing paperwork or lifting things with his left hand more often.

-Is an excellent chef and will cook you the most delicious meal you've ever eaten.

-Balan enjoys tea (in a traditional cup and saucer, Earl Grey in particular), but enjoys it more with cookies. If you bring him tea, make yourself a cup too because he will insist you also have one. He will also probably share a cookie with you. Save yourself a headache and just take it. He considers anything he gives you a gift and if you decline or throw it away he will be very upset and assume you don't like him anymore. You can, however, throw away napkins and the like, of course.

-NEVER drops the smile if he can at all help it. He can and will be in emotional distress and you'd never know unless you knew what to look for. Subtle eye movements and shifts in his posture reveal his mood. Will drum his fingers in specific patterns to calm himself down depending on how he's feeling, though you'll almost never see them.

-He only takes off his hat around people he trusts wholely with every fiber of his being. Lance is one of the few. He's quite pretty underneath, with finely swirling gold patterns all over him similar to Lance and a golden heart shape on his forehead (also like Lance).

-He likes wine, especially red wine. He has a high alcohol tolerance. Can and WILL drink you under the table. He gets extra flirty when he's properly drunk, and if you can get him talking he'll definitely lose track of how much he's had. He can phase objects through one another, so you'll frequently see him fill his glass by tipping it against a bottle.

-Likes to play around with a vaudeville hook and will hook Lance out of the ether if they try to phase out of a conversation or if he expressly needs something from them.

-He's HUGE and all the furniture in the theater is sized for humans, and I do mean ALL OF IT, so his lanky ass looks ridiculous sitting on any kind of furniture. There is one exception to this and that is his bed.

-Speaking of, his room is huge and decked out in a red/white/gold/navy color scheme (hmm, I wonder why?). It has wall panels. He has a walk in closet filled to the brim and a large vanity with a mirror edged in lights. It's also MESSY. Piles of clothes, random objects, makeup all over the vanity. The bed is a 3/4 circle, and it wasn't his idea. Lance actually had it put in while Balan was distracted.

-Why did Lance get Balan a new bed? Well, Balan USED TO sleep in a human sized bed, and he sleeps like he's dead. As such, he can and did fall out of bed every night without fail, usually taking a nightstand or other large object out on the way down and not waking up at all. The crashing sounds kept waking Lance up and they had enough of that.

-Threw a hissyfit when Lance got him the new bed without permission. Sleeps splayed out in the "starfish" position, usually tangled up in the sheets like they came alive and tried to strangle him. One or more limbs will usually be hanging over the side, including his head. Doesn't fall out of the new bed NEARLY as often.

-If you fall asleep in the theater, expect to wake up in that bed. He will insist you sleep in comfort, and the bed is big enough for five people so you aren't inconveniencing him in any way by laying in it. He can sleep across from you on the other side, and will sleep still as a statue if you're there.

-Has little to no concept of gender as a whole. He has no biological gender and can be whatever he wants as he feels fit. Accepts any and all pronouns. As such, he doesn't assign gender stereotypes to ANYTHING (clothes, people, objects of any kind) and doesn't understand most human created gender related norms.

-Will frequently call people Darling. If he likes you, will sometimes call you Dear. I.e. "Lance, darling, why are you always like this? Just SMILE!" and "Look at that smile, dear girl! Positively RADIANT!"

-For the LOVE OF GOD, PLEASE LOVE HIM. There is NEVER such a thing as too much affection as far as Balan is concerned. He will PINE for it. Hug him, lean on him, ask him to hold your hand or carry you around. Something, anything! He WANTS as much attention as possible and will come at you like he's more touch starved than Lance. He has ZERO concept of personal space. He will toss you in the air (he will also always catch you, calm down), hold your face, pat you on the head, flat out glomp you, the whole shebang. Unless you clearly state otherwise, he will be all over you ALL THE TIME.

-Rarely if ever gets TRULY upset, and if he does the cracks will start to show. He will pace and rapidly teleport when stressed out, and will sometimes summon doubles without realizing. The doubles can't talk, and mainly just act as stand-ins in shows.

-Always puts the visitors first and will cancel a show if he feels someone is in danger, emotional distress, etc.

-His eyes glow in the dark, and the pupils get narrower instead of smaller (kinda like a cat). His dreads are also prehensile (they can be moved at will) and he has a set of four back tendrils like Lance. He never shows them unless absolutely neccessary or for intimidation. They're curled up like little nubbins on his back, under his clothes. They're extremely sensitive and are actually feelers that let him read the energy in a room so he can react accordingly.

-He DOES have casual clothes, usually semiformal (button up shirts, suit vests, etc.) and will pull his dreads back out of his face when his hat is off.

-He enjoys witty banter, and will have a "banter battle" with anyone willing, Lance unwillingly included. Annoying Lance is actually one of his favorite pasttimes. He's kinda a lil shit sometimes.

-Is literally millenia old and has been hanging around doing this showbiz thing for ages, just in different ways. Picked up the theater thing when it was immensely popular around Shakespeare's time. He's actually older than Lance, and despite his largely immature attitude, he's actually more emotionally stable.

☆Lance☆

-Angsty lil cinnamon bun.

-Absolutely starved for affection of any kind (Balan doesn't count), and very lonely. Will immediately doubt you/deny/contradict you if you compliment them. Will squirm and make desperation "THEY'RE TOUCHING ME. WHAT DO I DO? I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. BALAN HALP." noises if you show them physical affection. Will also blush profousely.

-Plays the villain role in all the shows, and as a result almost no one likes or acknowledges them. As a whole they tend to be antisocial with very clear touch boundaries (Balan does NOT CARE). Very quiet and serious, and only speaks when absolutely necessary.

-Will NOT sugarcoat things (unless they like you, then expect sugarcoating of unimportant/trivial things). Less than stellar at the whole "emotional comfort" thing. If they like you, will hold you if you ask (especially if you're visibly upset).

-Feeds on negative emotions, meaning they have a more constant energy supply than Balan (though Balan is physically and power-wise stronger). Tends to be emotionally unstable and will get easily fed up/throw a small tantrum when they've had enough. Generally low energy and sleeps/naps often.

-Strictly They/Them pronouns. Also lacks a biological gender like Balan and can be anything they feel like being. Understands human created gender stereotypes and social norms.

-Prefers more feminine clothing. You're more likely to see casual clothes with Lance. They rarely care about other people's opinions on the matter. They prefer comfy, truly casual clothing made of soft cloth. Will always be wearing heels of some kind, though, and usually a scarf. Hair will be pulled back, typically in a messy bun or something similar.

-Does all the repairs and maintinence for the theater, including costume repair (especially if Balan's costume needs it, he will weep LOUDLY until Lance fixes the issue). Not uncommon to see them with their head in a ceiling fixing wiring, etc.

-Will absolutely melt if you stroke/run your fingers through their hair. They find it soothing, and if you pull them to you they'll fall asleep on your lap, against your shoulder, etc.

-Back tendrils are PAINFULLY sensitive, please don't touch without permission.

-Is a terrible cook in all things except desserts and sweets. They excell at all sugary treat making. Also an excellent bartender with a wide knowledge of cocktails.

-Absolute lightweight. Will get drunk off two shots, and is a weepy drunk. Tends to steer clear of drinking alcohol as a result. Enjoys Shirley Temple drinks, and can tie cherry stems into shapes with their tongue. Will cut you off if they think you've had enough booze.

-Impeccable and neat room filled with crystals, candles, incense, and lots of glow in the dark things. Their room has a purple and dark theme with small gold accents and is in general a small room with one window on the left side. Modestly sized canopy bed with plain bedding. Expect to never see this room unless they really adore you. They will know if you've so much as touched the doorknob and they WILL show up immediately to shoo you away.

-Tends to phase through the floor in a puddle of shadows, especially when trying to avoid a conversation. Will flail desperately if Balan pulls them back with his vaudeville hook.

-Lance is a light sleeper and any small sound will usually wake them up. Balan leaves them constantly sleep deprived. Sleeps curled up in a ball with their face snuggled into the comforter.

-If they find you asleep in the theater, they won't move you, but you're likely to wake up with pillows under your head and hips and a blanket tucked over you. They will also fall asleep anywhere and everywhere so if you're drowsy they'll steer you to the best napping spots (the daybed in the library is one of their favorites).

-Will throw stuff at Balan, watch your head.

-Has two sets of upper fangs, one right after the other and the second set is smaller than the first set, and one set of bottom fangs. Will rarely if ever smile, and is hesitant to be happy around you if they like you. NO ONE likes them, and if YOU like them you're the only one so they don't want to scare you off.

-They are remarkably gentle (despite being constantly cast as the villain), and tend to move more gracefully than Balan. Excellent at the Waltz and Tango, though they don't dance often.

-Eyes ALSO glow in the dark, and the pupils are slitted like a cat. They get huge and round if something catches Lance's attention.

[disasterinadress97]

Dallas Winston Headcannons nobody asked for 🤷🏻‍♀️

Trigger warning ⚠️

A bit of nsfw in there too

Pre Tulsa, life in New York

• His mom was a drug addict and had Bipolar 1 disorder

• He has/had 4 siblings, an older brother (six years older) from his moms previous relationship, older sister (five years older) from his dads past relationship, a twin brother (who was trans ftm) and a little sister (eight years younger than him)

• He was always the one to take care of his mom during her depressive episodes when she wouldn’t leave her bed.

• She often left days-weeks at a time when she was in a manic state

• He practically raises his baby sister, she died when she was four due to cancer

• That was when he decided he hates kids cause they always reminded him of her

• he was always stealing and dealing to get his twin brother anything to help his body dismorphia and feel more comfortable in his body

• His mom often sold his body and his brother’s to her drug dealer when they couldn’t afford drugs (his dad did not know this at the time)

• his dad was actually a good dad till their mom walked out on them when he was 9, that was when he started drinking and abused Dallas because ‘you fuckin look so much like her’

• He was apart of two gangs in New York, one of which was a Drag Queen gang

• The one Queen lived beside him and always heard fighting, she took him under her wing and after his mom left they were practically the ones who raised him and his little sister

• the two older siblings and his twin left a little while after their mom did, that was when he learned you can’t trust anyone

• you bet your ass this boy dressed in drag with his queens, a master with make up, can’t change my mind

• can walk in high heels/‘stripper shoes’ like no other!

• started selling his body to strangers for money after his mom left and his dad started drinking to afford to feed his sister and himself

• His other gang was a bunch of stereotypical big mean, manly gang members

• He started dating a guy from said gang, this guy was hella abusive, controlling and manipulative. Also was twice Dal’s age

• when Dallas left New York he broke up with him and the guy beat the shit out of him and burned him with a poker ‘so you’ll never forget me’

In Tulsa/present?

• has some severe PTSD, also suffers from abandonment issues, anxiety, depression and Bipolar 2 disorder

• Loves him some Rupauls drag race, reminds him of his Queens and how much he misses them

• Acts so tough and mean because In New York he was tough and knew it but was always seen as the ‘little kid’ so going to Tulsa that wasn’t gonna happen again

• first people he came out to about being bi was Mr and Mrs Curtis

• they also found out he was selling his body for rent/food money and that was when they realised how much they care about him

• him and Mrs. Curtis were super close, she was the closest thing he had to a real mom.

• He is actually so soft behind the tough guy act

• cuddles? All the time

• is a total brat sub/bottom don’t @ me

• the gang found out about his Drag Queen past when he accidentally sent pony the wrong photo from his phone ‘you tell them you die!’

• he obviously blabbed

• everyone was shook.

• Johnny was amazed because ‘he’s so tough but so pretty!’

• two bit laughed but lowkey was impressed with Dallys confidence to do that

• Steve was just ‘if it makes him nicer and happier than whateva’

• you already know soda begged him to do his make up let’s ge honest

• Darrel was quiet but was also a good dad and was like ‘as long as it keeps him out of jail we will always love him’

• he was touched but also super embarrassed the gang found out about it, but was thankful they were cool with it

• gang 100% harassed him to wear drag for them Atleast once

• one day dallas brought his make up and shoes over, he did his and soda’s make up and wore his shoes and the gang was shook! ‘How can you walk in those?! So easily??’ ��He looks prettier than half the girls at school!’

• all the support from the gang!

• Dallas actually reads a lot like pony does but doesn’t talk about it incase he gets made fun of for the books he likes

• is also really smart but plays dumb

• this boy LOVES vampires, they’re his guilty pleasure. We talking the vampire chronicles, the vampire diaries, true blood, he even liked the twilight books but will never tell a soul!

Dating headcanons!

General:

• cuddles all the time

• is very insecure and gets jealous easy

• surprisingly isn’t violent or aggressive when jealous, he’s scared if he is they will leave

• plot twist! Sylvia was actually a beard so Soc’s and other gangs wouldn’t know he’s bi

• they only said she cheated cause she was caught with another dude. The hate and hurt was all an act

• is a brat so will tease his dom in public subtly but so much

• is super clingy

• wants to be together all the time

• always needs reassurance ‘are you sure you’re still happy? Like I didn’t do anything wrong?’ ‘No, babe I love you’. ‘Oh okay, are you sure tho?’ 24/7

Johnny

• always getting Johnny to stay at bucks or his dads when his dad isn’t home so Johnny is safe

• feeding this boy all the time!

• when he hears dal is a bottom Johnny is shook but surpringly into a ‘daddy’ role

• drive in dates whenever they can

• they watch the stars a lot

• when Dallas is super anxious he picks at his nails a lot and Johnny holds his hands to help him feel a bit at ease

• when Dallas is in a manic state Johnny follows him anywhere he goes. Parties, fights, anything. He just wants to make sure he doesn’t get jailed again or hurt

• Johnny highkey loves when Dallas dresses in drag ‘you’re just so confident and hot!’

Steve

• watches while Steve works on his cars, he likes seeing Steve so interested and content

• when either of them fight with their dads they drive around all night and talk. They are both quiet about feelings usually but wanna be there for each other

• hangs around the DX while Steve and soda work

• both don’t say a lot normally but are always touching each other

• when Dallas is in a depressive episode Steve will come to bucks and just lay with him for hours

• They talk about both their moms walking out on them sometimes. They both swear if they ever met these women there would be hell to pay ‘how could she abandon this beautiful person?’

Soda

• all the spooning you could ask for

• Dallas is always complimenting him. ‘You’re so pretty wtf’

• on the anniversary of sodas parents death Dallas buys him flowers and they go to their graves

• when Dallas doesn’t answer his phone Soda highkey panics ‘what if he’s hurt?! What if he’s in jail ahain?’

• Dallas always feels bad about this and tries to make it up to him

• soda is always reminding Dallas he’s not alone and he loves him

• when soda really misses his mom Dallas and him talk about some of their favourite memories with her. Soda is still sad but it makes him a little happier knowing how much she cared about him and the one he loves so much

Two bit

• jokes 24/7

• when the gang isn’t around Dallas only calls him Keith or babe

• two doesn’t usually like his name but when Dallas says it he hates it a little less every time

• two bits mom wasn’t a fan of Dallas at first but after a while and gets to know him she loves him so much ‘mom I’m home’ ‘where is dallas’ ‘idk’ ‘tell him to come over I’m making his favourite dish’

• when two bit gets jealous or feels Dallas is he always puts his arm around his waist or kissing him so the person gets the hint

• twos little sister looks up to their relationship a lot and loves how happy her brother is

• two doesn’t stop drinking but slows down on it when Dallas mentions once it worries him sometimes

• Dallas and twos little sister get close really fast. Dallas is always giving her advice and one day brings her some old make up of his and she loves it!

• two doesn’t understand why dallas seems a little sad after times like these until one day dallas tells him about his little sister and how two should spend more time with her, ‘just in case something happens. I don’t want you to regret anything like I do’

• two makes a point to spend more time together the three of them after that

Pony

• they read together sometimes

• Dallas will go to literally any movie if pony is interested

• picks pony up from school everyday

• if Dallas gets arrested you know pony is lecturing him for Atleast a half hour. Dallas just sits there with heart eyes because ‘damn I missed this pain in my ass’

• dates at the Dingo are their Friday night ritual

• they both have terrible nightmares and are always cuddling and comforting eachother after

• Dallas is always saying little things to pony about his relationship with Darrel ‘I know he’s on your case all the time but it’s cause he means well’. Dallas then tells pony about his brothers and sister and how he wishes he could live with them and see them like pony can with Darrel

• pony and dar still fight sometimes after this but never in front of Dallas

Darrel

• they don’t go out a lot for dates but like to watch their favourite shows together (they kick the gang out for a few hours on these nights)

• Darrel brings out the brat in Dallas 24/7 and he teases him all the time until Darrel gets to a point he just looks at him and with a deep voice ‘bedroom now’ and Dallas practically trips over his own feet running to the room

• they are not quiet either! The gang sees them go in Dar’s room and they all groan and leave ASAP

• the gang found out about them when the gang came over and heard Dallas call out ‘daddy!’ And never let him live it down ‘how’s it going daddy’s boy’ ‘I will literally kill you two bitch’

• Darrel never celebrates his birthday after his parents die and Dallas puts an end to that so fast. He goes all out, flowers, presents, sexy time. Anything he can do

• always sitting on Darrel’s lap, clinging to him, hugging. All of it. He’s just amazed and thankful he has such a strong and beautiful bf who loves him

• dar once let dallas do make up on him and Darrel borderline didn’t like how good he looked in it

• Dallas got him to experiment in drag and Darrel felt hella empowered. Now they dress up together sometimes. But dar says only Dallas is allowed to see him like that

• this makes dal feel extra special and close to dar and he loves it

Tim

• sarcastism never stops

• Tim is quiet but really protective, he can say whatever he wants about Dallas but once someone says one bad thing they best be ready to square up

• patching eachother up after fights al the time

• they be kinky bitches man!

• after a nightmare Dallas told Tim a little bit about his ex and it took dallas an hour to talk him out of going to New York to kill this man

• Dallas does strip teases for Tim in his stripper shoes on special occasions.

• Tim didn’t tease him for his make up or anything, he actually found it real pretty on him

• Tim never lets him stay at his own place or bucks after they get together.

• Tim is Demi sexual

• Dallas heard his ex was released out of prison and has a sever panic attack. Tim was right there reassuring him ‘babe I’m right here. No ones gonna hurt you’.

• dals mom comes to town and Tim got Angela and her friends to give her a ‘Tulsa greeting’. Needless to say she left as soon as she came

This was so long and horrible I’m sorry

Special thanks to @sunlitcigars for helping with some ideas and encouraging me to post these

[og-danny-dorito]

Hellboy Headcanons

it's MY blog and I get to choose the hyperfixation (also it’s yearning hours)

S F W :

- big man big man big man big man big man b

- i love big man v much, and let me tell u smthn it's not for no reason

- so, let's just get a few things straight, the dude is canonically 7 feet tall, meaning that he towers over pretty much anyone. on top of that's he's got horns, a tail, a big ass rock hand thing, and on top of it all a fiery temper. at this you may be asking yourself “danny, if the man hasn't like no redeemable qualities why do you like him so much?” unless you're here because you ALSO like him and know he has a lot of them. let me explain

- so let me start off with some simple facts; he LOVES cats. he loves cats so much so that he actually has a fuckton of them, as seen in the first and second movies (not the one directed by david harbor because i'm not even going to look in that general direction)

- in fact, he loves cats so much that he probably wants to go to a cat café. the issue is that his hulking figure would probably scare away any other patrons at the cafés, so sadly he can't go. as an alternative he just has a whole lot of cats. a lot of the time he'll find himself taking pity on the cats on the street and thus leaving out cans of tuna or cat food in places he might frequent

- he also has a pajama set with cats printed on them but NEVER tell him that it's cute or he may not make eye contact with you for a week

- ah, on that subject matter, he actually gets flustered pretty easily. the only issue is that it's not easy to tell when he does, and when he allows himself to feel like that. it's usually when he's sitting in his room and not really thinking about much of anything (aka: relaxed)

- you can tell by how his face somehow turns a slightly darker shade of red, and the frown and gruff grunt he gives as a response imply an almost evasive nature. he doesn't get how you can say something so innocent about him of all people, but regardless it makes him feel a little bit a somethin

- i know he LOOKS like he will crush your skull, but he's a huge softie. yeah, he comes back to the BPRD base looking like he just fought god bare handed and butt ass naked, but that doesn't mean he's a huge meanie. in FACT, if he really does like you that much he's probably going to treat you like the exact opposite of his stereotype

- he tends to be attracted to anyone who can make him laugh, which is pretty easy considering his biggest weakness is puns. yes, you read that correctly, puns

- catch this dude loosing his shit because you walked in to his room, saw his cats piled up on his torso to absorb his body heat, and said “Wow, looks like you've got a MEOWntain on you, Red.” seriously he won't be able to breathe for a good few seconds

- his laugh is pretty hearty and rumbles in his chest like a washing machine on spin cycle, ending with a dry heave. if you've cracked him up that much he will snort. tiny little piggy snort. and then deny it directly afterwards like a big baby

- he himself is a pretty funny dude, the only issue is that he's selectively funny. usually when he's relaxed and just chillin out he finds himself cracking more jokes than he normally would. making someone he likes laugh motivates him to make more jokes, especially if their laughter is contagious. seriously, he's weak against funny laughs he can't MAKE himself NOT laugh if you sound like a dying horse when you laugh

- he's also pretty affected by other people’s moods even though like 90% of the time he feels shitty. if you're in a good mood then he can't help but feel a little bit better. the positiivty is contagious and not even hellboy can resist it

- thus why he can't for the life of him resist any ounce of cuteness or innocence or impenetrable positivity. like, he just can't help but feel the immediate need to protect

- yeah he likes goth chicks (have you SEEN liz) but have you ever walked around with a literal ray of sunshine glued to your hip? cause big man can't handle the amount of joy it brings him to have someone so happy all the time next to him. it just,,, makes him weak

- that and he's a huge dummy for anyone who's smaller than average but also tends to be fiery and hotheaded like him

- like he doesn't even have a “type” appearance wise but catch him falling head over heels for a positive, firey, and outright goofy person to match his dry and dull attitude towards most things

- he tries to act like he's above it, but the man likes cute stuff. even when he gets caught red-handed petting a litter of kittens he'll just be like “what? never seen a demon before?” and continue with his activities

- if you do end up being his s/o you may very well be the person who has to take care of his wounds because he barely trusts anyone in the med bay to take care of him without trying to experiment or take weird samples without his knowing. that said, he really hates going to the doctor

- you'd be susprized how uncomfortable it makes him, really. so you're probably the one to actually make sure he doesn't fucking die

- it's rare he'll come from work unscathed. in fact, a good portion of the time there's a new scar to add to the count. when asked he'll play it off with some dry humor, barely addressing the fact that his muscles ache like hell and his joints are killing him. you'll have to pressure him into letting you take care of him, which results in a pout and grumbles of protest as he removes his shirt. if he has any injuries near his thighs he'll probably be really hesitant to let you take care of them until you've been with each other for like a month or so

- that and he lowkey would die of embarrassment if you were trying to tend to his thigh wounds and just saw how HUNG he is but i'm gonna save that content for possible NSFW headcanons in the future

- mans super gentle with his s/o, like SUPER gentle. he doesn't want to hurt them, honestly, and just leaving a small bruise from getting frisky or play fighting makes him feel like a fucking monster. in fact, it makes his self-esteem issues worse. he might not touch you for a while if you happen to get a particularly bad injury, on or off the field (implying that you work at the BPRD- if you don't he still feels like shit)

- which means that he probably would like some validation if he does start to feel like complete shit. his skin is thick from his experience over the years, but shit still happens and it always will. he's reminded every day that he doesn't deserve you just by seeing your visual differences. he knows he's a danger to you and the people around him, and it makes him want to avoid everyone. but some gentle words of affirmation and kisses all over make him feel 10x better. it isn't hard to get him out of a funk if he knows you love him too much to find disgust in him

- he doesn't seem very affectionate, but once he knows it's okay to touch up on his s/o like it's no tomorrow he will most definitely release all his touch-starved cravings and be attatched to you all the fucking time

- he's pretty much always holding your hand (although his hands are pretty big so he might just resort to having your and in his without linking fingers) or got his arm around you or, his favorite, having you sit in his lap. he tends to be pretty up close and personal with you if you're all about it

- the only real problems i can see with this are personal distaste or maybe the fact that he's a walking space heater. seriously, hellboy is quite literally hot as hell regardless of the environment, and turns his heater up crazy high. he thrives best in the heat and remains pretty much unaffected by all temperatures. he hates the cold because it makes the tips of his tail and ears cold, but that's pretty much all it does

- you could be in a freezer and the most discomfort he'll feel is that his ears are like a little 👌🏼 bit cold

- so yes, space heater, and it's great if you live in heat like he does. sleeping with him means you'll never get cold again, and since he takes up a lot of space in his bed it's very likely that you'll be sleeping on top of him or at least somewhat touching him. so win win for him, obviously

- he also likes to crank the heater up because it causes you to shed more clothes, probably leaving you in a tank top and shorts while a sheen of sweat forms on your skin and your hair sticks to your face. and if that ain't hot, he doesn't know what is (pun intended). he'll put it down if you ask him to though, begrudgingly. he just likes seeing you breathless is all- ow, don't punch his arm like that

- god forbid anyone look at you like that though. you're wearing something mildly revealing? hell no. there are some bad people out there with even worse intentions and he is not letting some asshole look at you like you're a piece of meat at a butcher's shop

- so obviously he's a bit jealous. well, he's actually a lot jealous, but he won't admit it. just like he won't admit that he was about to kill the guy that catcalled you while you were walking down the street. or that he glared down at the person chatting casually to you about your dress. or that he- you get the picture. he's very protective of you and wants everyone else to know, although it may be because of an inherent self-doubt that says you might leave him

- maybe one day you'll see that you've been dating a demon all this time and be horrified and scared of him, leaving him in the dust for good. it's probably best for you, he thinks, but you'd never do that...right?

- regardless, he's protective of you and thus gets jealous easily. one way to tell is that he tends to become somehow even more attached to you with the person in question nearby. if it gets bad enough he'll just scoop you up and leave, no questions asked. maybe for the sake of your pride and protecting your embarrassment he'll make up some excuse, but as soon as you can tell that he's following you around like a lost puppy it's clear to see that something is up

- if he's getting particularly annoyed though or just wants to tease you, he'll slide his tail up your leg and watch you squeak and jump until pretending he did nothing wrong. the only real way to one-up this is to pinch the head of his tail softly and watch him tense up and give you a look of betrayal because he's crazy sensitive there and gets super unscrewed if you mess with him like that

- of course, looking at him innocently and letting him go once he finally retaliates is always entertaining enough to do again. it may even become a competition between you two to see who looses it and gives out the quickest (spoiler: you're probably going to loose if your relationship is sexual- dude knows his way around the human body and WILL use it against you)

- but it's kind of cute how much he craves your attention, considering it seems he'll do anything to get you to stay by him most of the time. he hates being apart from you and hates knowing you could get hurt at the same time, so it's very likely that you'll have protection wherever you go (if you're in his line of work though he may consider making you his partner, but when he brings this up to Abe the fish man automatically is baffled that a person could bring this kind of reaction out of his stoic and dry-humored friend)

- now for my FAVORITE part; Miscellaneous Headcanons :

   he finds it hot as fuck when you wield weapons of any kind. like yeah you might be his soft precious angel and no one is allowed to touch you but him, but seeing you with a weapon of any sort makes him think about things he's guilty to even know to have though

  oh i forgot to add that he's probably pansexual but is more attracted to feminine body types. doesn't mean he won't fuck someone with a dick, but it does mean that he's a big dom and he likes tiny feminine figures so he's more well-rounded and comfortable with women

   calls you pet names all the time, including Doll, Kitten, Darlin, Sweet-cheeks, and maybe a shorter version of your name or a play at one of your defining traits (for instance, if your hair is red he might call you Little Red as a joke cause he's Big Red ahaha size joke funnyyyy). calling him a nickname in turn that isn't one of the usual like Sweetheart or Honey Bunches gets him blushing like he's got a fever. don't mention that to him though, or he'll get even more flustered (or do, your choice)

   tends to be super flirty with you for shits and giggles, but gets a little riled up if you hit him with an equally witty and flirtatious remark. a little bite never hurt anyone, and he enjoys it more than most

   he really likes spicy stuff, and is currently the champion of "The BPRD Fire-Eating Contest" which didn't involve actual fire from hell (opposed to popular belief) but rather various spicy foods from all over the place and even some from different realms. he won when he ate a concoction Abe made that involved multiple peppers that probably would kill a normal human if eaten all at once but just made Hellboy tear up a little bit and have a runny nose. anything else doesn't affect him at all, and thus why he puts insane amounts of hot sauce in food just to get a tiny sting from it

   his love language is physical contact

- and that's all! hellboy is an affectionate dude with a slew of insecurities. under those scars and rough exterior he can't help but feel his whole day brightened when he sees his s/o and/or best bud, regardless of his mood that day. as a goofball at heart and dad of a thousand cats, the guy is really just misunderstood. take a few minutes out of your day to get to know him over a beer or two and maybe you'll even get a new friend till the end of the line. once he likes you though, there's no way you're getting rid of this big teddy bear

[george-mackay-macfine]

Dear Diary,

A/N - This has taken me a hot minute to get this done. Also hasn’t been proof read. 

Request 

Word Count: 4,289

Synopsis: George cheers Y/N up after she’s cheated on. 

July 26th 2011, 

Dear Diary, 

That’s how these things work right? I start each entry by saying ‘Dear Diary’ and then verbally purging my innermost thoughts onto these painfully white pages in hopes of a self soothe type therapy? I guess it’s something I’ll have to try to work out any sort of lifetime trauma I’ve undoubtedly built up over the years, and there is the saying don’t knock it till you try it? Well, here we go. 

I’m sure no one is curious as to why I’d be starting a diary at seventeen, nearly eighteen years into my life and that's because Y/N no one but you should be reading this diary, but on the off chance someone is, It’s probably definitely because I can’t afford therapy, and for as long as I’ve known Bridget Jones always found it helpful in her later years to write down the events of her life in her diary. Heck, they even helped her lose some weight, Christ knows I could probably use that, Of course, her life was undoubtedly a lot more interesting than mine will ever be, but either way she found sense in writing her memories down, So why would she lead me astray. 

If anyone ever asks I’ll say I’m doing it so when I’m old and grey I can look back on all the memories and think about my life, how I spent it, how far I’ve come. 

But if they dug a little deeper, not even that much deeper, like an inch tops, you’d see it’s because I don’t ever want to forget a detail about him, Georgeander Richards, the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen. 

Meeting him happened at Ben Daniels’ end of year party, but since I’ve only decided to start a diary today. I guess we’ll need to take a jump back in time. Ben always throws the first party at the end of the year, and now as graduates, everyone had more reason to party. His parties were renowned for being the place to be if you wanted to; 

Lose your virginity.

Take someone's virginity

Get over a horrendous break up by getting absolutely shit faced

Forget about how badly you did in your tests.

Mourn the loss of your formative years and in turn your youth.

Or you’d attend to witness the utter demise of your faith in humanity. 

I was here for the third reason. 

July 16th 2011, Ben Daniel’s Start of Summer Party. 

Smoke filled the air, thick and hazy. I couldn’t be sure if it was coming from the smoke machine Ben had hired to add to the ‘atmosphere’, or if it was coming from the cigarettes that everyone seemed to be chain-smoking,  It could also be coming from the bong that Freddie Ashby was using.

Either way, the source of the smoke was unclear. 

“Have you seen Sarah?” I asked Freddie as I asked him. He looked up from his bong, eyes wide and filled with humour. He nodded his head a stupid bloody smile on his face. God Freddie, you were literally the stereotypical stoner that was in EVERY bloody American High School movie. “Well, where is she?” I asked the irritation that clipped my tone was lost on Freddie. 

“Oh, she’s in the lounge room.” He extended the bong out to me. “Take a hit, for old times?” I pushed it back against his chest gently. Freddie was always nice I guess but right now I was on a mission. 

“Maybe later Fred, I just need to find Sarah first.” Freddie nodded his head, Lips wrapping around the mouthpiece, black lighter lit in his hands going to the bowl. I didn’t stay to watch Freddie light up. Instead, I pushed through the solid crowd into the living room. Hannah Jamieson saw me first. She tapped her boyfriend Connor Hughes on the shoulder, One by one people turned. I smiled at the all, confused as I made my way around the living room. It wasn’t until I was in front of Ben’s mum's floral settee did I stop.

My heart dropped through my ass, out of my chest cavity and right through. Hitting the floor before being tramped on my a storm of hippos. That’s how it felt at least, and no amount of smoke was thick enough to hide the act of deceit happening on Ben’s mum's floral settee. 

Julian McDonald, my boyfriend of six months and my best friend of eleven fucking years Sarah Olsen, making out in front of everyone. Julian was shoving his tongue down Sarah’s throat while Sarah copped a feel of what Julian had to offer the world through his signature black skinny jeans. I was sure if she kept rubbing she’d wear a hole in the worn denim. 

“Isn’t that…” Morgan Franks, the other oblivious stoner of our school pointed to the two, as if everyones attention wasn’t already on them. 

“Yeah.” I breathed out looking as Julian’s hand snaked up to cop a feel of Sarah’s boob, much to the entertainment of everyone in the room who whooped and hollered in approval suddenly forgetting that I was there and that was my boyfriend and best friend making out. “Sure is.” I turned on my heel, my old ratty converses squeaking as I turned, walking back the way I’d came. Nobody bothered watching me this time. Things had heated up between Julian and Sarah enough to keep their attention.

“Watch where you’re going.” Someone yelled as I pushed through the growing crowd of horny seventeen and eighteen-year-olds who were desperate for a sneak peek at the live porn show currently unfolding on Ben’s mum's bloody floral settee.

I want to burn the fucking thing.

I’d decided there was only one place I could be right now, and that was the patio on the roof. Snagging an unopened bottle of vodka as I went I rushed up the three flights of stairs. Anyone who’d ever been to one of Ben’s parties in the past knew about the rules of the roof. It was the only place in the whole house where you could sit and have a quiet conversation without anyone disturbing you, bumping into you, or in some cases groping you. It was party law that if you were on the roof you were quiet, and that is why the roof was always relatively empty. Maybe a random couple hooking up in the corner, or the emo-loner kid who wanted to be included without actually being included sat up here. 

Now I joined them. The brokenhearted girl who was now planning on getting completely shit faced on a full bottle of Vodka. 

“Ah fuck.” The ground was uneven at the top of the stairs where the door jamb and the concrete didn’t quite level out together, the bottle of vodka I’d grabbed nearly hit the ground had I not been able to grab onto the neck of the bottle seconds before it smashed into the concrete.  

“Rough night?” I jumped, heart racing out of my chest, shock coursing through my veins. I looked up, across the roof near the ledge stood a boy, casually dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with a cigarette hanging from his left hand. He was the only one up here, no random couple, no emo-loner kid, Just the boy with the cigarette. He turned more towards me, bringing the cigarette to his lips. “Or do you always nearly drop a full bottle of vodka the minute you walk into a room.” 

“This isn’t a room,” I called cockily, as I stood up, balance restored. The stranger looked around, a tooth filled smile creeping up onto his face. “It’s a roof.” 

“Touche.” He extends his hand towards the space next to him, an unspoken invitation for me to join him. Slowly, cautiously I walk towards the stranger. We were the only two on the roof, he maintains his eye contact with me until I’m standing beside him. I take a good look at him. His jaw was square and sharp. His cheeks lightly tanned and covered in a days worth of stubble. His eyes were big, round… Childlike and welcoming. In the dark light I could barley see the beautiful blue of his eyes as I stood by him. “So, has it been a rough night.” I chuckled in self pity before plonking down by his feet. Vodka bottle in front of me. 

“My boyfriend is cheating on me.” I twisted the lid of the bottle. “With my best-friend… Right now.” I moved the bottle towards my lips. “Actually if you’re interested they’re giving everyone the opportunity to catch a free, live porn show… Just go down and ask Ben where his mums bloody floral settee is.” I chugged down some of the clear liquid as the boy sat beside me. Coughing as it burned its way down my throat. “Other than that, it’s a pretty stock standard Ben Daniel’s party. Music is too loud, too shitty and everyone’s packed in like sardines.” I held the bottle out to him. In return he offered his cigarette. 

“I’ll admit, Ben does always over extend the invite.” He looked around us. “This is the only place you can really move.” I extended the bottle to him. He took it, exchanging it for his cigarette. “But I did hear yelling’s of the porn show from down below.” He tipped his head back, swallowing some of the liquid as I took a drag of his cigarette. I was never one to smoke, apart from social situations, and this I suppose one would consider to be a social situation. “Sounds like a shitty best-friend and a really fucking shit boyfriend…” 

“Ex-best-friend, and I guess ex-boyfriend.” I exhaled the smoke. The burning filled my lungs. I coughed a little at the very end, lungs burning.

“Sorry, Ex-best-friend.” He took another swig of the vodka. “I’m George.” 

“Y/N.” We swapped items again. “You don’t go to our school do you? I mean with Ben…” George shook his head. 

“Nah, I go to the private school.” Holy shit, this was George  MacKay, the same George MacKay that Sarah was in obsessed with.

“Christ on a bike, You’re that George.” He turned to me. 

“That George? I didn’t know I was deserving of a that before my name.” He chuckled. 

“Of course, you need context, sorry…” I cleared my throat. “Sarah, the ex-best-friend, the one making out with the ex-boyfriend, she has the BIGGEST crush on you… She’d always go to any of the parties in town in hopes of seeing you there… If only she were here now.” I shook my head, karma sometimes was a bitch. 

“Your best-friend —.”

“Ex,” I mumbled as I tipped the bottle up to my lips. 

“Sorry, your ex-best-friend is Sarah Olsen… Stalker Sarah…” Vodka flew out of my mouth, not exactly the most lady-like of things when you’re sitting with one of the hottest boys in your town, alone on a roof… Great job Y/N.

“I’m sorry, but what did you just call her.” I spun on my legs a little, my body facing his. He mirrored my actions. I wiped the vodka from my face, ladylike. 

“Stalker Sarah, it’s the name my mates came up with for her… I had no part in it.” He held his hands up in defence. 

“Jesus, why’d you call her that?”

“Well, like you said she’d come to all the parties in town. When she was there she wouldn’t dance, she wouldn’t drink… She’d just stand there and stare at me. She didn’t blink for five minutes once… It was like she was waiting for me to talk to her.” He shook of the memories. “God, it was so uncomfortable.” 

“My god, seriously.”  George nodded his head feverishly.  He grabbed the vodka from between us, bringing it to his lips. 

“You know I never thought it’d be sat here at one of Ben Daniel’s parties with Stalker Sarah’s ex-best-friend.” There was a moment of silence between us. I guess we were both wrapped up in the revelations. 

“You look different to how she described you.” George shook his head.

“She described what I looked like to you?” I nodded my head. “Why?”

“Case I ever saw you at a party, I was to tell her immediately.” 

“Did you?” I shook my head no. “She’s insane you know. One time she told a girl I was seeing that she was pregnant with my kid, and the girl was stopping us being together.” 

“Are you fucking serious.” George nodded his head. “I’m sorry she did that to you.” 

“Not your fault, you don’t control her…” He stamped out his cigarette as he passed the bottle back. “You think you’ll ever forgive them?”

“To quote Hamlet, Act three, Scene three, Line 87… No.” Another smile broke across his face, this one bigger than the first. 

“You can really quote Hamlet down to the line numbers?” I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s true what they say about you Y/N Y/L/N, you are one of a kind.” 

“How do you know my last name?” 

“I knew who you were the second you step out onto this roof.” He motioned for me to lean in closer to him as if he were about to tell me a national secret. “I familiarised myself with all of Stalker Sarah’s friends, incase any of them ever came up to me at a party and tried to tell me ALL about their great friend, and how wonderful we’d be together. I didn’t realise you were the ‘best’ friend’ though.” I shrugged my shoulders. 

“Not anymore… But she did try to get me to do that once ya know…” I lent in closer to him, ready to unload my own confession. “But I told her I was going to be sick and got out of there before you even showed up.” 

“Smart girl.” 

“So my grades say.” 

“So I’ve heard.” My eyebrow raised. “I’ve heard a few things about you actually…”

“You have?” He nodded his head, a sinful smirk covering on his lips. 

“Best-friends with stalker Sarah, now ex.” He corrected himself when my mouth opened to correct him. “Smart as all hell, probably going to be doctor or a lawyer, and you were dating THE biggest jackass in your school.” Part of me couldn’t believe that George MacKay, the boy Sarah had always gone on and on about knew so many things about me. I know their not major things, but its still something. 

“That’s a lot of things,” He chuckled, laying back on the floor of the roof eyes cast upwards towards the star filled sky. “Not nearly as many things as I’ve heard about you, but still a lot.”

“What have you heard about me then?” 

“George MacKay, you’re the ‘it’ boy of your school.” He scoffed at the title.  “Every girl from my school, your school the school in the next town over wants to date you.” I laid down beside him. “You’re also rather smart… You get good grades, play football. Everyone thinks you’re going to be a model right out of school.” 

“Basic things then.”

“You’re the not so bad, ‘bad boy’ that all the girls want to be good for them.” I rolled my eyes in disgust over the strong of words I’d heard come out of Sarah’s mouth one too many times. “It’s a rather romantic notion really, if you’re fourteen.”

“You know what they say about bad boys.” George whispered I felt his breath against my cheek. “Bad boys do it better.” 

“Oh my god.” I chuckled. “You say stuff like that to girls? Does that work for you?” I turned to look at him, our noses now touching. 

“You tell me.” He smiled again, my breathing hitched slightly. I looked at him again, this was George MacKay, the boy that Sarah told me I would never have a chance with, no matter how much makeup I wore, how much weight I lost, how much I pushed my tits up. He would only ever be interested in a girl like her, not me. Yet, here he was. 

“Try another one.” My voice came out barley above a whisper, my bottom lip slipping between my teeth. George grabbed my hand, pulling it onto his chest, he started to lead it downwards. He didn’t break eye contact with me, and that only made the whole situation one hundred times more intense. Julian had never done this before, He’d never be able to have this effect on me. 

“Do you want to see what you do to me.” He whispered, stopping right at his belt buckle. He smiled, head inching forward a little more. “How was that?” The look on his face told me he knew what he was doing to me, how his was making my heart skip every second beat. 

“I can see why you got your reputation.” He moved his head closer to mine, just by a milli-meter, if either of us moved our lips would touch. His hand still held onto mine resting on his belt buckle. He didn’t make a move to move them, and if I was honest with myself. I didn't want too. The logical part of my brain told me I was doing this as payback for Sarah hooking up with Julian, the vodka filled side of me did it because I wanted to see where this could go. 

“Y/N.” My fingertips unconsciously gripped onto his belt. His eyes dropped to my lips, only for a second. If I’d been blinking I’d have surly missed it. “You’re cute when you’re flirting.”

“I wasn’t flirting.” I pulled my hand away from his belt. The warmth of his body leaving my forearm. I wrapped it under myself. Watching him as he turned away and looked up at the sky once more. 

“I wish you had been.” God, if I were a petty bitch I would run down those stairs and yell this story in Sarah’s face, while Julian watches on with that stupid look of his. “Why in the world did Julian McDonald break up with you? Apart from being one of the biggest idiots in town,” 

“I didn’t want to sleep with him.” I whispered, rolling back so I was also watching the stars. “He got mad that we’d been dating for six months, and I don’t think I’m ready to lose my virginity.” 

“You mean you’ve never had sex?” 

“I do believe that is the common definition of the word.” I laughed. “But I know, how lame am I. I’m seventeen and I’ve never slept with anyone.”

“I don’t think it’s lame.” 

“Yeah right. I’ve heard the stories about you, and your assembly of women.” 

“Firstly it’s more of a line… not an assembly. Secondly, I’m serious. You wouldn’t want to lose your virginity to that arsehole anyway.” He cocked a smile. “Probably wouldn’t even had a dick big enough to feel it.” He snorted out a laugh, trying to hold it in. “I’ve heard some pretty serious allegations over the size of that guys dick.” 

“George.” I turned to look at him, unable to stop myself from staring for a moment. “Thanks for making me feel less shit about my life.” He turned to face me now. “I’m sorry I’m such a drunken mess.” I picked up the bottle of vodka, it was two-thirds empty. 

“Well that was going to be my next question. Are you always like this or is it just the vodka?” 

“It’s definitely the vodka.” I sat up, trying to hide the blush that was flooding my cheeks. “Normally, if my boyfriend…”

“Ex,”

“Thank-you, Ex-boyfriend hadn’t been making out with my best-friend”

“Ex,”

“Ex-best-friend on that bloody floral settee feeling up each others…” I waved my hands in front of my boobs, the frustration overtaking me. “Bits… I wouldn’t be up here, wasted on half a bottle of vodka.” From down the stairs there was a loud eruption of voices. The music swelled drowning out any chance I had on making out what the voices were saying. 

“But then if they weren’t down stairs making fools of themselves you wouldn’t be up here.” George voiced as he sat up. Arm brushing mine. 

“That’s true.” I turned to face him. Chin resting on my arm. “And wouldn’t that be a shame.” George smiled and lent down a little. Eyes levelling out with mine, he ducked in a little closer, once again we were nearly lips to lips. “Why are you up here George?” He smiled, his lips brushed mine ever so softly. I almost thought it didn’t happen.

“I’m hiding from Stalker Sarah.” He whispered, breath fanning over my lips. 

“MacKay where are you.” I pulled away, turning towards the door to the roof. “MacKay” 

“I think someone wants you.” I turned back to George who was looking at the door. 

“I think you’re right.” He stood up and extended his hand down to me. “Do you need a ride home?” I’d come with Sarah… There was no way I was leaving with her. 

“I can walk.” I smiled standing.

“MACKAY.” The voice hollered again. If Sarah didn’t know George was here tonight, she sure would now.

“You’re not walking, we can take you.” 

“George, it’s fine.”

“Y/N, We’re driving you.” He smiled grabbing onto my hand, Holding it tightly in his. “Now, the important part of this mission,” He started as he pulled us towards the door back into the house. "Is making sure neither of your ex’s see us.”

“You make me sound like I’m a floozy with multiple ex’s. Besides, they’re probably still busy on the floral settee,” George threw his head back and let out a deep chuckle as he opened the door and holding it with his left hand. His right still firmly gripping mine. 

“Y/N.” We both pulled to a stop, Our laughter cutting off, Dying like my last hopes of being able to get out of this house without seeing either Sarah or Julian again. Sarah stepped forward smiling. She looked George up and down like he was a snack. 

“We’ve been looking for you.” Julian smiled reaching out for my hand, trying to pull me away from George. 

“Sarah,” I looked at my ex-best-friend whose eyes were downcast at mine and George’s interlaced hands. “Julian,” Julian’s eyes were on George, sizing him up. 

“Y/N,” Sarah clenched out, eyes leaving mine and George’s hand. “Whose your friend?” She smiled sweetly. George wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his chest.  

“No one, just the guy whose taking her home.” He looked down the stairs, my eyes followed his. At the bottom of the stair case stood two guys, they’re waving at George. He nods his head in acknowledgement at the two. “Come on,” George lead me through the pair, down one step, two, three.

“Y/N,” I stopped, George stopped on the step below me. I turned, looking back up at the girl who used to be my best-friend. “Are you really going to do this to me?” I let out a self pitying laugh. 

“Honestly Sarah, compared to what you and Julian did together on the settee, George taking me home, is nothing.” They both looked down. “You should have charged for the show, you would have made a killing.” I went to turn again. 

“You leave with him and you can kiss goodbye our friendship.”

“You kissed that good bye the minute you kissed my boyfriend.” I turned, this time not stopping when she called out again. “Let’s go.” I whispered in his ear, stepping down onto his step. When we got to his friends he smiled at them, not explain who I was. I guessed he was waiting till we were in the safety of the car George had arrived here in. 

“You alright?” The taller of the pair asked. His eyes flicked over to me, before turning back to George as we made our way past him. 

“Yeah, I’ll explain in the car.” He replied softly. None of us talked as we followed George out of the house, his hand still holding tightly onto mine. People parted as we walked through the crowd. I could see at least three different girls who’d joined Sarah in her talks about George giving me the up and down before they looked away, their eyes betraying them in the second they turned. They wished they were me, holding his hand….I understood why. 

“I’m Mason.” The shorter one smiled as we neared the car. “Since this jackass won’t introduce us.” He extended his hand out to me. He seemed nice enough. “You are?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” I smiled shaking his hand. “Ex-best-friend of Stalker Sarah, Ex-girlfriend of Julian McDonald.” Mason’s eyes widened he turned to George who was still next to me, hand still firmly grasping mine. “It’s okay, you don’t need to worry about me trying to convert George into hooking up with her.” I lent towards him. “And if you made up the nickname, you’re totally right.” I whispered a little. 

“Speaking of McDonalds,” The taller of the two smiled. “How about we get some?” He held his hand out across the roof of the car. “I’m Taylor, designated driver of these two assholes tonight.” I reached across, shaking his hand. “Pleasure.” He hit the roof of the car. “McDonalds, let’s go.” 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Dear Diary pt.2.  - https://george-mackay-macfine.tumblr.com/post/612006567009714176/dear-diary

Dear Diary pt.3.  - https://george-mackay-macfine.tumblr.com/post/612353107904593920/dear-diary-pt3

Dear Diary pt.4.  - https://george-mackay-macfine.tumblr.com/post/612426076500656129/dear-diary-pt-4

[suchdan-veryphil]

Goodnight, Solos - A Dad!Ben Solo Imagine

Request: Can we get an imagine where Ben has trouble with his and the reader’s toddler and the bedtime routine? Maybe it’s the first time he does it bc the reader is pregnant with their second child and is on bedrest? Their toddler gives him a hard time and just doesn’t wanna go to bed?

Fluff!!!

Word Count: 1,928

Trigger Warning: Swearing maybe?

A/N: I am absolute Adam Driver Trash. Ben Solo deserved better. 

---------

“Ben, are you sure that you’ve got her?” As you sat up against the backboard of the bed, your 7-month-pregnant belly protruded from the covers. The doctor had put you on bed rest, insisting that since your toddler had been born 7 weeks early, that you were at high risk for early labor with your ever-growing baby. 

Your husband put his dirty clothes in the hamper before he nodded his head and looked at you. “Not to be an ass, but I literally single-handedly took down a handful of Palpatine’s assholes. I think I can give our two-year-old a bath and read her a story before bed.” 

A deep breath ran through your body as you tried not to take offense to what he was saying. “Yea, well if you end up needing help, call me over.”

“I will not.”

“Need help or call me over?” 

“Both.” Ben turned around and kissed you on your forehead before he turned on his heels and walked out the door and down the hall towards your toddler’s room. 

“Reina, it’s time to take your bath. It’s almost bedtime.” 

Looking back at the 6′3″ man was a pair of (y/e/c) that reflected yours, and a head full of messy, curly, midnight hair that was definitely her father’s. “Daddy, not yet.” 

“Yes, yet. C’mon, wookie.” Ben had a way of making things sound stern, but not rude or mean. His voice was deep and sultry, but his tone was gentle and empathetic. 

“Can I do the bubbles?” her voice was the stereotypical voice of a toddler who knew how to make her father give her what she wants, accompanied by the slightest tilt of the head. She smiled at him, making her chubby cheeks turn light pink. 

In that moment, Ben knew that everything he had faced leading up to this point in his life was so that he could be the best father possible for this child and the one on the way. 

“Yes, you can do the bubbles. Let’s go.” Ben held his arms out, and they were soon holding your two-year-old tightly, carrying her into the bathroom. He ran the water and plugged the tub. “Reina, come do the bubbles!” 

Reina ran to the cabinet by the sink and pulled out the container of the bubble bath and used all of her 29-month-old strength to pop the top off and run towards the bathtub. With no thought, she turned the container on a 180-degree angle, dumping a good majority of the bottle into the tub. Ben quickly grabbed it, struggling to grip it well enough to turn it back over before he plopped it into the sink. 

“Bubbles, Daddy!” Reina giggled and put her hands in the running water as the bubbles began to form in the water. 

“Yes, lots of bubbles, wookie. Now you gotta take off your clothes?” Ben was grateful that you weren’t able to hear him questioning your two-year-old daughter on how to take a bath. 

“Yes and then I jump in the bubbles!” Reina squealed as she undressed and then ran out of the bathroom. 

“Wait, where are you going?” 

“On a mission!” 

“Reina, you’re not wearing clothes, come here!” Ben stood and used the length of his legs to stride quickly towards the naked child that was running through the house. 

“Catch me, Daddy!” 

Reina ran past Ben and into her bedroom. “Daddy, my wanna put my Rey doll to the bath!” Ben stood there for a moment, confused as to what she was trying to say. “Rey doll in my bath!” 

Ben shook his head as he realized what she was saying. “Yea, sure. Let’s just get in the tub, Reina.” He leaned over and scooped her up before he walked her back into the bathroom and put her in the tub before he turned the water off. 

Reina looked up at her father and smiled as she grabbed fists full of bubbles, and squeezing as they floated into the air, made their way back down and landed on various surfaces. “Daddy, can you use the force to blow the bubbles around?” 

As the Solo boy took a washcloth and made it soapy, he smirked a little and shook his head. “I cannot. But watch this,” and with that, he took a deep breath in and blew into a large hill of bubbles, causing them to fly everywhere and causing the toddler to go into a fit of giggles and laughter. Ben couldn’t help but also chuckle as he continued to bathe the child that taught him a kind of love that he never thought he would know. 

The rest of bathtime was pretty smooth if a mess of bubbles on the floor, counter, sink, and Ben was still considered smooth. Ben sat with Reina on her bedroom floor, wrapped in a towel that was made to look like a uniform from the Rebellion. Y/N bought it as a joke, and Ben didn’t find it very funny at first. Only when Reina decided she loved it did he come around. 

As soon as he ran the brush through her hair, she whined. “Ow! Daddy that hurted!” 

“It hurt?”

“Yea, I want momma to brush it. Can you go get her?” 

Ben frowned and gave her a small squeeze. “Momma can’t leave the bed, remember? She has to stay in bed so that she can keep your baby sibling safe and sound.” 

“Then we don’t have to brush my hair.” Reina pouted and gave him a teary-eyed expression that pulled at his heartstrings in a way that only her mother had been able to do before.

“Yes, we do, wookie. I’ll try to be more gentle. I promise.” And he was. He had combed through her hair in small sections and in small strokes. This caused the chore to take about four times as long as it should have, but the job was done and there were no more tears, which is what he cared about. 

“All done, kid. Where are your pajamas?” 

“Top.” 

Ben collected any random pair of bottoms and a top before he turned around to find his daughter opening the drawers on her crafting desk with her towel still wrapped around her. 

“What’re you doin’? It’s bedtime. Come get dressed.” 

“Not yet! I wanna color you a pitcher!”

Ben took a deep breath, not because he was frustrated but because he didn’t know how to get through to the toddler. He finally understood when y/n said: “she’s just like you, stuck in her ways.”

“Tomorrow morning, the first thing we can do is make a picture but now you need put your clothes on so we can lay down and go to bed.” 

“Daddy, a story first. Momma always reads me a story.”

“Yes, we’ll read a story but not until you’re dressed.” 

Ben had come a long way. If you had come from another galaxy and had heard of the late Kylo Ren, and then met your Ben, you never would have put two and two together. Ben was kind, and he was learning patience. It wasn’t easy for him. There were many days when you two had started dating where you could see his temper come out, but he truly was working on it. 

Then the day you told him you were pregnant with your lovely Reina, he really began to hold himself accountable for his actions. He wanted to be the dad he never imagined himself being and giving your daughter a life full of love, trust, and lack of fear and anger. 

He held the pajamas up in his hands as he waited for Reina to close her drawers and make her way over to where he stood. 

“I can do it.” Her arms reached up and stretched as if she would ever be able to reach any object held over her father’s head. Ben chuckled at the sight, and just to tease her a little, he reached them up higher. 

“Are you sure?” Another chuckle escaped his lips as she started to jump up in an attempt to get taller. 

“I’m gonna tell momma! My want my pajamas!” The small girl had a stern voice that she had undeniably learned from her father. Ben knelt down and helped her step into her underwear, pants, and lastly her shirt. 

“Don’t tell the big boss on me, you know that look she’ll give me. Ben then made a serious face, imitating the one you give when you have to discipline Reina. 

With a giggle, Reina lifted her tiny finger to her lips in a shushing motion. “Okay, daddy. Let’s play a game!” 

“No no no, let’s read a book and go to bed!” Ben said trying to match the toddler’s enthusiasm as he lifted her up and brought her over to the shelves of books by the window. 

The shelves were packed with all kinds of books. Comics, coloring books, books on animals, books on the universe, but Reina’s favorite was “Goodnight Moon”, so it was no surprise when her hand went straight to it. She slid it off of the shelf and held it tightly in her hands. 

“This one, Daddy.” 

“You got it Wookie.” Ben kissed the side of her head and smiled as he lowered her into her bed shaped like an X-wing. 

“Daddy, lay with me?” 

“I don’t think I’ll fit in the bed with you, kid.” 

“Make you fit! Come here!” Reina moved over all the way to the wall and patted the bed beside her. 

Ben watched and tried to analyze whether or not he would fit on the bed. With a light, sigh, he decided that it didn’t matter. As he flicked the lights off, Reina’s star projector night light lit up and covered the ceiling with stars. As he laid down, he pulled the blankets over the two of them and took the book gently from her hands. 

“Ok, get comfy.” Ben cleared his throat and opened the book. Reina cuddled into her father with her head on his chest and her arm over his abdomen. Ben smiled lightly to himself as he began to read. 

“In the great green room, there was a telephone...” Ben rested his head on Reina’s and continued to read in a slow, soothing voice. 

It was only when Ben was half-way through the book that their baby girl had fallen asleep, but he continued to read aloud as if she were still listening. 

You had already been waiting for almost two and a half hours waiting for Ben to come back to bed. You knew Reina could be tough to get to sleep, but she had never taken this long before. Getting out of bed, you slid into your slippers and waddled your way down the hall to Reina’s room. 

You were met with a dark room covered in stars and the sight of your Ben and Reina Solo cuddled up together, Ben’s stomach holding “Goodnight Moon”. 

His cheek was rested on her head and her arms were wrapped around his body. You could feel your heart swell with love as you took the sight in. Ben Solo had come a long way since his battle with Palpatine, and even if he still felt a struggle, you knew that he had changed forever, for the absolute best. 

You took one last glance and smiled as you slowly backed out of the bedroom and closed the door, leaving it open a crack. Before walking away, you glanced in and bit your lip. “Goodnight, Solos.” 

[cutestlittlekoi]

"You're such a fucking brat."

Xander aggressively slammed his door, leaving Alexis in the hallway alone, fist clenched, face red in embarrassment.

Roommates. They suck. Especially when your roommate happens to be your high school bully.

Alexis was everyones favorite. Endless friends, lunch dates, swooning boys, and academic achievements was her daily life. Xander was the, per say, 'bad boy' stereotype. All the girls loved him. He got his dick wet almost daily, building a reputation for himself. Athletic, attractive, smart, but only used it for trouble. And that's what he found when he met Alexis. What a perfect target for his daily abuse. Constant shoves in the hallways, jokes about their appearance, pinches and flicks that evolved into harassment. An honest dick, in general. Years of torment she put up with. Until finally Alexis was free. High school graduation came and went, Alexis found a career path in video editing and photography, using skating professionally and an undercover OnlyFans account as extra cash on the side. Of course, being on her own for the first time was scary, so in order to combat loneliness and financial strain, she looked for a roommate. Finally, she came across an ad, desperate for anyone. It only took 2 days of planning before she moved in, excited to find out the house was only some old high school buddies. Little did she know, that included Xander. Right across the hall from her. On the second story. That no one else inhabited but the two of them. Ironic, right? Relishing in their high school days, Xander took his opportunity to make Alexis' life hell more than it already was. He stopped laundry mid wash, unplug her monitors and equipment, leave her cameras on to drain the batteries, move her personal stuff from cabinets, and "misplace" her chargers. Finally, Alexis had enough when he found out about her private OnlyFans and threatened to leak her identity.

"How do you think your parents will feel about that? Your clientele? All your little friends? Hell, even your own roommates? You think they'll want that kind of attention here?" Xander laughed sadistically, facing the teary-eyed girl that stood before him.

"I...You...Just..." She stumbled over her words, threatening to break at any moment.

"Aww, what? Are you gonna cry? How fucking pathetic. You're so sad, just a little loser, huh?"

That was it. Something snapped in her. The teasing, the harassment, the torture, the constant fighting. It finally got to her. She looked up at Xander, feeling a new found anger and confidence all in one.

"Fuck you."

"What did you just say to me?"

"Fuck. You. You absolute pathetic piece of shit. You're worth nothing. You look down on others to feel better about yourself! You're nothing but a sniveling, pathetic, unworthy, steaming pile of shit. I hate you."

Xander stared in amazement at her. Did she just stand up to him? No, she wouldn't dare. But she did? What does he do now? He never expected her to snap like that. But he knew one thing. He didn't like it.

"You're such a fucking brat."

Xander aggressively slammed his door, leaving Alexis in the hallway alone, fist clenched, face red in embarrassment. She yelled in frustration and turned and stomped down the hallway to the bathroom. Once inside, she washed her face, catching her breath. Her roommates were going out of town that day, already having left the house, so it was just her and Xander. But she didn't care right now. She was simply just hoping he'd get the hint and leave her alone for that bit of time.

Stalking back to her room, she sighed, feeling herself get heavy. What was it about him that made her so irritated? She could live without his torment and sleep peacefully at night. But she couldn't bring herself to leave. Why? What was her issue? She didn't want to admit he was attractive, or that she stared at his body when he was shirtless, or that his swearing was occasionally hot, because she was supposed to hate him. But as she laid in bed that night, she couldn't help but feel herself get wet at the idea of him between her legs.

After several minutes, it became unbearable and she had to reach her small hand down to feel herself through her shorts. Her legs ached as she arched her back, a gentle moan escaping her lips. She didn't care about her soft noises, considering Xander would be fast asleep by now and it would be just her. But unbeknownst to her, a particular person was listening. Getting up to get a water bottle, Xander opened his door, taking one step out before he heard a certain noise, quite familiar to him. Not being able to help himself, he quietly crossed the hall to Alexis' door, pressing his ear to it, only to be welcomed by a symphony of whimpers. Scoffing, he rolled his eyes in disgust. Until one of said whimpers included his name. Intrigued, he pressed further, hearing unholy confessions involving him spilling from Alexis' lips. It wasn't before long that he had his own problem to take care of, cursing himself and rushing back to his room to gather his thoughts.

The next morning, life continued as normal. Alexis hopped downstairs, wearing a perfect little skirt, some pretty pink fishnets, knee high cat socks, an oversized tshirt, and a darling choker accented by matching rings on corresponding hands. Bouncing into the kitchen, she leaned against the counter trying to reach the cereal. Only to be outstretched by a larger hand dazzled in rings. She shrunk down, watching as Xander picked it off the shelf, chuckling behind her. It sent chills down her spine. Did she have a newfound attraction to him?? No, no, it can't be. She turned around, coming face to face with the tall man as he towered over her. An intimidation tactic. She gasped as he pushed her up against the counter.

"Well, look who's brave enough to show their face."

Alexis scowled, moving out the side to get away from him. Xander laughed, putting the cereal back on its respective shelf. He leaned against the counter, watching carefully as Alexis crossed the kitchen to open the fridge, getting out a water bottle. As she bends down, he gets a beautiful view of the underside of her thighs and curve of her ass. He smirks, seeing her stand back up, turning around to glare at him as she heads towards the entrance to retreat to her room. Before she gets the chance to escape, Xander grabs her arm. Alexis' turns and stares up at him, startled for a second before she attempts to yank her arm from his grasp. He only tightens his grip, causing her to question him.

"Let me go, what's your deal?"

"Oh, so you don't wanna explain what last night was about?"

She rolls her eyes.

"So what? I stood up to you, get over it."

She turned to exit again, only to be pulled back and slammed back first against the counter. She cried out in pain, pushing against Xander with all her might. But he only grabbed her chin, forcing to make eye contact with him. Alexis whimpered, making Xander chuckle.

"I'm not talking about that, brat."

"W-What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, bitch. I heard you moaning my name, begging for me. I may be too blind to see it, but I'm definitely not too deaf."

Alexis gasped, turning immediately red. Quickly, she began to struggle, hitting Xander in the stomach. He groaned and backed into the opposing stove, while Alexis made a run for her room. Xander composed himself, and chased after her, catching up quickly. He wrapped an arm around her waist, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her into his room. Tossing her on his bed, he turned and locked his door quickly, despite her protest. She quickly backed away further into his bed when he advanced towards her. Grabbing both of her legs, he yanked her back down, his strength winning over hers. Tears formed in her eyes as she covered her face, flustered by her obvious vulnerability to him. He rips her hands away from her face, slapping her before forcing her to look back at him. Dazed, her mouth falls open, allowing him to spit into it. He forces her to close and swallow, tears falling out of her now closed eyes, giving up her fight.

"See, now was that so hard, darling?"

Alexis whimpered in response, letting her arms fall limp next to her.

"Aww, poor darling. Giving in to me." Xander runs his thumb across her bottom lip, eyes glistening in anticipation and excitement.

"God, I wonder what that pretty little mouth feels like." He marvels at her reaction, her eyes flying open and looking at him with fear. He laughs, a sadistic smile coming across his face.

"First, I want to get a taste."

He leans down, gripping her chin, kissing her soft lips. Xander groans into her mouth, making her whimper and her eyes flutter. Her mouth falls open again out of pleasure, letting him slip his tongue in. He chuckles against her lips. How easy it was to overpower her. Eventually, he pulls away, a trail of saliva still connecting the two. Alexis pants, feeling herself get wet from the minimal contact. She goes to reach her hand down to her aching cunt, only to be slapped again by Xander. He growls at her, while she winces in pain, tears streaming from her eyes once again.

"Don't you fucking dare. I tell you when you can touch, understand?"

She absentmindedly nods her head. Still in a trance, she snaps out of her head, only to find she's on the floor. Her knees touch the soft carpet, as she sits back in her heels. She gently tilts her head up, greeted by Xander's hand caressing her stinging, red cheek.

"Now, precious, I want you to show me what you can offer me. If you do good enough, I'll let you have my cock."

Alexis whimpers at his words, agreeing to his terms. Xander takes the invitation, undoing his belt, and unbuttoning his jeans. Once done, he sets his belt on the bed, saving it for later. He reaches down, rubbing his bulge over his boxers, his cold rings stinging against his burning, thinly clothed skin. Alexis watches with lidded eyes, mouth watering at the sight. How is she turned on by this? It was wrong. Yet, she needed it. She wanted it. But she'd never openly admit it. Or so she thinks.

"Open up, I'm gonna use that pretty little tongue to my liking, understand?"

Alexis dutifully opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out. Xander quickly pulled his throbbing cock out, gently stroking himself. Precum dripped from his tip, showing his excitement. Soon, Xander was forcing his shaft down Alexis' throat, feeling the warmth of her mouth surrounding him. He groans, leaning his head back as his fists her hair. Tears well in her eyes, but from how big he is this time. He begins using her mouth to his pleasure, shoving his cock down her throat, fucking it to his liking. Moans fill the room as he pants out curses. Alexis feels herself getting wetter and wetter, soaking her pretty pink panties, legs aching from desperation. Finally, after several minutes, Xander pulls out of her mouth, panting and breathing heavily as his cock pulses from the lack of contact. He picks Alexis up, forcing her down on the bed. He reaches into his adjacent night stand, pulling out his pretty little pistol. Alexis' eyes widen as she gasps. Xander whips around, gently shushing her, putting the gun against her stomach.

"It's ok, pretty. I'm not gonna hurt ya. If, you listen to me like a good girl."

She whimpers a quick agreement, fear paralyzing her body. Xander reaches his free hand down, pulling her soaked panties to the side, rubbing up and down her slit. Alexis moans and arches her back, rolling her eyes and whimpering as Xander presses the gun further against her. He pressed his tip against her entrance, feeling her body tense up. He chuckles lightly, running the gun down to her lower stomach, pressing firmly.

"Let me in, pretty."

Alexis quickly relaxes, eyes closing tightly as she grips the sheets. Slowly, Xander pushes in, grunting when he hits her cervix only 2/3 inside of her.

"Oh, aren't you just a tiny little thing?" He groans, feeling her cunt clench around him.

"That's it baby, come on."

Xander begins sliding in and out of her slick hole, and before long, moans flood the room. He looks up to see Alexis completely overwhelmed with pleasure. Drool leaks from her mouth, eyes lidded, moans and pants flowing out of her mouth like words. Completely in Xander’s hands. He picks up speed, hitting all of her soft spots expertly, cussing loudly when she tightens around him, whimpering his name. Soon, she starts arching her back, pressing against the gun, fisting the sheets, crying out for Xander. He gathers that she’s cumming, feeling her gush around his cock. He restrains himself from cumming solely from that, trying to enjoy this moment. But he can only try so hard. He moves his hands on either side of Alexis, ditching the gun on the bed, and grabbing his belt. He carefully wraps it around Alexis’ throat, tightening it, letting her gasp for air. She lets out an exasperated beg for Xander, making him pull harder. He leaned down to her exposed jawline, biting roughly and leaving a large hickey. He pounds in and out of her faster as he bruises her uncovered neck, leaning up towards her ear.

“I’m close. I want you to cum again, pretty. Understand? I’m gonna fill you up nice and good, ok?”

Alexis moans, not being able to comprehend what he says. It wasn’t long before she was cumming again, screaming out his name, gripping desperately to the bed, gasping for air. It pushed him over the edge, him groaning her name, pushing one final time against her cervix as he bred her sweet cunt. Xander panted, resting his head against her shoulder, eventually pulling out of her. Thoughts flooded his head of what was to come the next day, but oh-fucking-well. All he cared about was cleaning Alexis up, and falling asleep next to her.

[writingsbyari]

Sidereal | Ch. 1

Summary : Y/N Finstock never expected that her teenage years would be one that filmmakers would push towards an audience, but she expected it to be completely different than how they turned out. Being livelong friends with Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall, and having a somewhat insane, loud lacrosse coach of a father, she had come to expect the unexpected. However, she truly did not expect for her friend to soon grow fur and howl at the moon, or the way her entire being was seeming to change with every passing day.                 

        She truly hated Beacon Hills.

Pairing : Multi Ship (Stiles Stilinski x Finstock!Reader, Derek Hale x Finstock!Reader)

Word Count : 2237

CHAPTER ONE : STUPID ADVENTURES MAY CAUSE BODILY HARM

sidereal : of, relating to, or expressed in relation to stars or constellations

  Highschool movies always were one of Y/N’s guilty pleasures. 

No matter how many times Stiles would complain or beg to watch something else while Scott just rolled his eyes and listened to the argument between his two friends, she couldn’t help but love them. Maybe she had already known she wouldn’t get the stereotypical teenage years, be stuck with something she had to settle for, so she tried to live through the movie.

She wouldn’t get the big glow-up the summer before freshman year started, wouldn’t be able to strut in with her chin held high, wearing stylish clothes and confidence oozing off of her. She wasn’t going to be able to somehow juggle almost all AP classes and a personal life full of parties and boys. God, boys.

There was truly only one boy she actually wanted, but it was far-fetched and a thought that shouldn’t pass through her head because every time it did, it left a pain in her heart and a slight queasy feeling. 

She knew she’d for sure only get one thing that the movies had, and that was game nights. And it wouldn’t be in the bleachers with a practice jersey and face paint, cheering one of the last names darting around the field against red mesh. No, instead she’d be right by the bench, a playbook in hand and having her father yell right into her ear, sharing bored looks with the bench warmers and frustration with the boys on the field. 

Now, however, she was sprawled across the couch in her living room, her father doing god knows what in his office down the hall. They had spaghetti a bit ago, the dishes still sitting on the coffee table. Her bowl had half-eaten seconds still in it, and the TV was playing the ID Channel, something that she only watched when she was absolutely bored, seeing as Stiles crammed the same things into her head almost daily. 

Y/N sighed, moving her eyes away from the screen to the dishes on the coffee table, debating internally if she really wanted to clean them now. It was undoubtedly the last home cooked meal for a while, seeing as school starting the next day also meant lacrosse started. On most nights, Y/N either stayed with her father during practices and they got something from the few fast-food and takeout places Beacon Hills had to offer, or she ate at Scott or Stiles’, which normally meant pizza of leftover Mama McCall dishes.

However, before she could fully come to the decision of whether she actually wanted to be a functioning human being, a sound outside her front door grabbed her attention. Her eyes snapped to the door, and then to her phone that was lying on the arm of the couch. The noise sounded again, causing her to jump. Craning her head to look down the hall, she could see the closed door of her father's office.

Knowing he was probably too engrossed in old lacrosse films, she stood up, grabbing her phone. She was quick in pulling up Sheriff Stilinski’s contact info, knowing he’d answer just as quickly as the operator if she were to call this late at night without prior warning. 

Y/N gulped as she walked to the door. Opening it slightly didn’t reveal a serial killer or kidnapper, and she pushed the door open more, taking a hesitant step onto her porch. The street lamps lit up the empty street, her brows furrowing. Her thumb was just over the call button. She stopped her steps just before her porch turned into steps, and she let her eyes dance around her yard and the sidewalk. 

After finding nothing, she lets out a relieved sigh, shutting her phone and turning on her heel, planning on going back inside to actually do the dishes again.

However, once she turned around she was met with two taller figures practically crowding around her. Her eyes widened and she let out a scream, throwing her fist out to hopefully catch one of them in the nose before they grabbed her. The two figures let out almost equally as high-pitched screams, and one flailed while the other took a step back.

Y/N’s heart rate slowed as she realized who the two people standing in front of her were, and she huffed, her brain only yelling the word “idiots’.

“Oh my fucking god! What the hell are you two doing? Trying to kill me?!” She screeched, now aiming for Stiles' shoulder with her fist. He flinched when it connected, whining out. Scott stared at her with his puppy eyes, and she lowered her hand to her side.

“We were trying not to bring attention to us! We know your dad is probably awake and-”

“Y/N! Where’s the thre-” your father yelled, pushing the door wide open and wielding a lacrosse stick. His entire posture relaxed when he noticed the two boys and the annoyed look on his daughters face, his shoulders drooping. “Oh, just you two. Dear god, can’t you just knock or something?”

You looked over your idiotic friends shoulders, nodding at her dad. “We’re good here, Pops. No threat for you to beat to death. I’ll be in soon.”

Finstock twirled the lacrosse stick, pointing it at the three teens in front of him. “School tomorrow. No stupid adventures that can cause too much bodily harm, and for all that is good no drugs. I don’t have time to deal with a daughter who has substance issues.”

Stiles smiled crookedly, giving a half-hearted salute as Scott nodded, his eyes wide at the prospect of Finstock getting mad at them for doing anything. “Yes Coach, we’ll make sure there are no drugs!”

Y/N raised a brow, not bringing up the fact Stiles didn’t agree on the whole “no stupid adventures” part. Her father seemed to notice too, and narrowed his eyes. He stared at them for a moment and then rolled his eyes, turning to go back in the house. “I don’t even want to deal with it. Be home by 2am.”

Once the door closed, Scott and Stiles turned to her. Crossing her arms, Y/N already knew where this was going. Almost a decade of friendship would do that to someone, she supposed. She also knew she was probably already growing grey hairs from the stress the two caused her, mainly the spastic one.

“My dad left about 45 minutes ago on a call.” Stiles stated excitedly, turning the girl around by her shoulders. Y/N sighed, slipping on the old boots that laid on her steps, letting Stiles lead her to the jeep. 

“He’s a cop, Stiles. That is not surprising.” She stated calmly, looking over at Scott with a raised brow. He gave her a knowing look, and she stifled a giggle.

The Stilinski boy sighed, looking over at her. “I don’t like that I’m rubbing off on you two, you know. But it's not the fact he left I’m interested in, it’s the reason why.” Y/N opened the door to the death trap her friend had started driving, humming to indicate to him to continue as she climbed into the back.

“They found a body. Well, only half of one, I guess. Stiles wants us to find the other half.” Scott rushed out, hopping up front. Stiles groaned, getting into the driver's seat as he smacked at his friends shoulder. 

“Dude, you totally stole my thunder there! My dad’s case, my epic reveal moment!” Y/N sighed as Scott began arguing with Stiles, leaning her head between the two seats, a small smile forming on her lips as she listened to the two.

                                            ⟴⟴⟴⟴⟴⟴⟴⟴⟴⟴

“I’m not actually walking through the woods to find a dead body, Stiles!”

“Half of a dead body, Y/N! And why?!”

She rolled her eyes, not escaping the comfort that the jeep gave her. “Because if there's half a body, then something had to rip it in half. And not to mention your father and the entirety of the Beacon Hills Police Force are out there looking too! We have school in a couple hours, and I don’t have time to be detained!”

Scott took out his inhaler, shaking it up, looking between the two with a slightly concerned look. “If Y/N doesn’t go, maybe we shou-”

Stiles pointed at Scott, eyes wide. “No! We are going to find that body! And anyways, you wouldn’t actually be detained! Dad would never detain you!”

Y/N crossed her arms, raising a brow. Her and Stiles stared at each other in silence and Scott sighed, putting his inhaler to his mouth. He hated when they did that. 

Stiles threw his arms in the air, with a small yell, and Y/N’s face broke out into a victory smile. Knowing she won, she held her hand out, Stiles griping as he dropped the keys to the jeep in her open palm. “Just...call Scott or I if you see something or if you get attacked, okay?” 

“And you or Scott call me when the Sheriff drags your asses back here so I can prepare my ‘told you so’ pose.” Stiles rolled his eyes, and with one last look over the girl, he turned to Scott. 

“Lets go, Scotty boy.” Stiles started off to the trees, and Scott gave Y/N one last look to make sure she was okay, and with a nod of hers followed behind him. 

Y/N sighed, leaning back in the passenger seat. She hummed, closing her eyes as she decided to sit back and wait for her idiotic best friends to show back up.

                                             ⟴⟴⟴⟴⟴⟴⟴⟴⟴⟴

It couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes from when Stiles and Scott disappeared to when Y/N heard it.

Her head snapped up, looking around in the dark. Pulling her phone out and turning on the flashlight app, she hopped out of the car, huffing. She could feel the cold hit her, and with a quick look into the back of the jeep she found one of Stiles’s flannels. She quickly put it on, relaxing slightly at the warmth and the familiar scent of her friend.

Paying attention again to the noise she heard, she stepped away from the jeep, her voice annoyed. “Seriously boys, this isn’t funny. You already scared the shit out of me once tonight, let's not do it a second time.”

Silence.

Y/N’s brows furrowed and she gripped her phone tighter, holding it out farther as to see more into the seemingly never-ending darkness. “Stiles? Scott? Come on, idiots. It’s cold.”

A twig snapped behind her, causing her to spin around. Her heart was beating faster, and her eyes looked through the window of the jeep.

On the other side of the jeep, a little ways off of the side of the road was a pair of glowing red eyes. Y/N felt panic settle over her, her hand shaking. A growl emitted from the same direction of the eyes, and she felt a scream bubble up in her throat.

Backing up, Y/N had a plan to run. One that after thinking it over during her ride home she’d come to yell at herself for. Before she could set off, though, the eyes disappeared and she heard the loud voices of the Stilinski men. Shaking in fear, Y/N turned to face the sound, seeing the Sheriff dragging Stiles along. 

“Ah, there she is. I knew you had to bring one of them with you.” Sheriff grumbled, tossing Stiles towards the jeep. Y/N’s panicked eyes turned to her friend, and he shook his head slightly. 

“I had to have one of them, Dad. Scotty was boring and didn’t want to come, so I took the fun friend.” Y/N gulped, craning her head to look through the window in the jeep, slightly calm now that she wasn’t alone and the Sheriff (who had a gun) was there.

“I assume I don’t have to explain how idiotic and dangerous this was to you, Y/N?” The Sheriff stated, causing her attention to snap towards him. She gave a shaky smile and a small thumbs up. “Good. So, now that I know at least one of you two have common sense, you both need to get home and get to sleep. School in the morning.”

Stiles sighed, turning to head towards the jeep. Y/N tossed him the keys, getting in the jeep. It was only once they were already half-way to town did she take a breath, leaning her head on the back of the headrest.

“Scott will be fine, right? He undoubtedly is getting caught, or he called his mom. He’d call his mom, right?” Stiles rambled. 

Tilting her head towards him, Y/N nodded. “Scott knows not to be in the cold woods all night long. He called his mom or found a deputy. He may be a little naive, but he isn’t dumb.”

With Stiles now slightly more calm, Y/N let her eyes drift to the side mirror on her side, terrified that the red eyes would be following behind them. Curling into the flannel over her body, she felt the calm wash over her again. She didn’t notice Stiles’ eyes and slightly blushed face.

Neither of them knew just what trouble their friend was actually in.

[gcttis]

NAME            :  Adrianna Naomi Goncalves Amor

NICKNAMES :  Ade, Anna, Adri, Lovey

AGE               : Twenty-four

BIRTH DATE  : April tenth

HOMETOWN : Newton, TX

ZODIAC         : Aries

AFFILIATION  :  None

JOB                :  Unemployed

SEXUALITY    :  Bisexual

STATUS          :  Single

RELIGION      :  Agnostic

RECORD        : None

POSITIVES     : Alert, independent, sociable, charismatic, intelligent, imaginative, witty, responsible, methodical.

NEGATIVES    : Hotheaded, blunt, indulgent, aggressive, reactive, vindictive, abrasive, argumentative, disobedient.

INSPIRED BY : Lily Kane, Mandy Milkovich, Dade Murphy, Claudia Donovan, Annabeth Chase, Jessica Jones, Katniss Everdeen, Letty Ortiz, Penelope Garcia.

adrianna was raised in stratford, the daughter of a missing mother and a father that might as well have been gone too with how much he spent with the club rather than his own daughter

he was a reaper, just a regular rider, who spent all of his time at the clubhouse while adrianna basically got by thanks to the kindness of their neighbors and her own smarts

she learned to take care of herself really quickly, getting herself to school, doing her own homework, making her own food, etc. her dad would leave wads of cash around the apartment and had a direct deposit to pay the bills so she would take that money to pay for food, school supplies, and all that jazz

she got really into math and science at school, excelling in those categories and signing up for all the little clubs that had to do with them. by the time she was in middle school, she was a tech whiz and could work a computer inside & out. she began fixing phones and computers for a fee back then, which then led to her looking into hacking so soon she was hacking into school systems to change grades for a price too.

in high school, she ventured out of her nerd zone and got into volleyball and softball as well as attending more parties, dating around more, etc but what she was most known for was her attitude

adrianna had a bit of a short temper and a smart mouth, god help you if you pissed her off. she was a bit of mean girl but only to those that truly deserved it, saving her nicer sarcastic remarks for the neutral folks around her. she loves an argument, especially one she knows she can win, and it helped that she could always match her bark with her bite considering she could kick some serious ass if she wanted to

her love for computers and her avid participation in science fairs, technology internships, and all that jazz landed her a prestigious full ride to caltech, one she accepted with a quickness bc she desperate to get tf outta stratford

there, she calmed down, argued with people less, really became an overall better person personality wise. criminally, she became a hacker for hire, doing plenty of high profile jobs for various criminals around san francisco and stacking up her bank account pretty high so she could retire extremely early. she graduated caltech with honors and a degree in computer science and a minor in mathematics

her father’s passing (of a heart attack) was what brought her back to the small county a couple months back, going back to their little condo which she’s been meaning to sell and the people she’s been meaning to forget

now that she’s back, and continuously extending her stay seeing as how money is not particularly an issue for her, she’s gotten to reknow the town and offer her services to the highest bidder though out of loyalty to her father, she usually gives preferential treatment to the reapers plus they can certainly afford her high ass fee

fun facts ! she speaks fluent portuguese, spanish, french, japanese, and russian - conversational mandarin, arabic, & hindi, has a doberman named lucifer, loves going to batting cages to blow off some steam, has a bit of a spending habit and loves to shop, she has an expansive shoe collection but she’s almost always wearing heels, secretly loves reality tv, can’t bake but loves to cook, doesn’t remember a single thing about her mother other than that she left, has a whole computer set up like the stereotypical hacker in the movies with multiple monitors and all that jazz, will still absolutely fight a bitch

[klausysworld]

hello can you make a one-shot for yandere human klaus mikaelson from the 21st century, where the mikaelsons have a family vacation and travel to a tourist spot and elijah breaks the news to his brothers that he is in a relationship with a younger girl *t /n* and that he is going to bring her to the family trip to introduce her, and his brothers are worried about the age difference between elijah and his girlfriend, because they think that she is only with him for the money, and they are afraid that he will break Elijah's heart, he seems very much in love with her, and when the day comes to meet her, the brothers get defensive, but when they live with her, they start to grow fond of her *especially klaus*, when klaus meets and/or becomes surprises with her, and immediately falls head over heels in love with her and the more he lives with her his obsession grows more and he can't help but get mad that she is with Elijah, and one day, elijah asked klaus to go with him to buy a ring engagement because he wanted to marry y/n and klaus immediately got jealous and started fighting with Elijah.

Humiliation, self-hatred and fear.

Klaus was fully prepared to be as rude as possible to his elder brothers new girlfriend. She was only 19 though when Elijah described her he said she was “almost 20” which apparently makes it better.

He was expecting a ditzy, stereotypical blonde who was basically Elijah’s sugar baby. He was ready to see how fast he and Kol could make her cry just from poking at her.

But when the door opened and a straight up gorgeous women to walk in on Elijahs arm. And no matter how nasty Kol’s comments were, she always had a come back. She practically threw him into his place and Klaus couldn’t bring himself to insult her.

Even Rebekah made a stab at her wearing expensive clothes and how Elijah must be spending a whole lot on her to which y/n mentioned she had a job, looked Rebekah up and down and asked if she did anything other than stick her head up her own ass.

Klaus would be lying he hadn’t spat put his drink on multiple occasions through the first week alone.

He barely said a word to her until the second week when he saw her in their private pool in her little bikini with her hair up and out of her face. She caught him staring and waved him over.

Elijah found them splashing each other in a fit of giggles and smiled, happy someone in his family enjoyed her company.

Once she became a frequent visitor at the Mikaelsons the other siblings warmed up to her of course. Rebekah found that y/n was actually rather helpful when it came to men, clothes and just her opinion in general and Kol found that she was a great person to play video games with.

Klaus of course liked her, a lot.

He had a new compliment waiting for her each time she was in his presence and he was all the more eager to sit and and wait with her for Elijah to come home from work.

She became much more comfortable around Klaus too, he was almost like a brother to her. He was protective over her but lovely at the same time.

Which is why she thought nothing of it when he would put an arm around her or kiss her forehead goodnight.

Or when she moved in and he would give her flowers every now and then just to ‘brighten her day’. At one point she thought maybe he was gay because he never had any girls over which had Elijah nearly choking on his food when she brought up how she could “find the right guy for Klaus”

Elijah assured her his brother was very much a manwhore-for women and that it wasn’t common at all for him to not have anyone over.

And the only time he did have a girl over was when he wanted her to be jealous, only to be entirely heartbroken when she high-fived him in the morning.

So he tried to up his game.

He often moved behind her when she was doing something and would leave a trail of kissed up her neck. “Oh ‘Lijah” she would moan only to turn around and be met with his brother who was sucking along her skin. The first time it happened she was absolutely mortified and thought maybe this was just Klaus being funny and purposely embarrassing her, so she laughed and carried on. And then the more he did it, the more she found it almost normal. Plus it made Elijah jealous sometimes and he would fuck her extra hard. Which meant that she liked to stir it on and start moaning Klaus’s name when he did it which in his head meant she was all over him and in Elijah’s head she was asking for a punishment.

Klaus had taken to smacking her ass or squeezing it when he walked by her, again the first time she had moaned and spun round ready to kiss her lover. So much so that she had pulled Klaus down with her hand on the back of his head and pushed her lips to his hungrily. But his surprised moan and the taste of his lips wasn’t what she knew and she apologised relentlessly for doing it. She had immediately told Elijah her mistake and thankfully he only laughed and brushed it off after seeing his younger brother frozen in the kitchen, utter shock on his face which Elijah took as him not have expecting or wanting y/n to kiss him.

He didn’t realise his brother was later that night reliving the moment over and over as he fucked his hand so hard he was unable to cum anymore.

Klaus even decided that y/n should sit on his lap, no matter what she was wearing.

Even when she came downstairs in Elijah’s shirt and her panties, he had pulled her down to sit on his knee. She was so nervous that her panties were damp from her and Elijahs morning fun that the more worried, the more she shifted which made her wetter by the second.

Thankfully Elijah was out at the shop and hadn’t seem his love getting off on his brothers thigh. But Klaus knew exactly when he was doing. He made sure to move his thigh beneath her without her realising until she herself was rubbing against him. All he had to do was pull her against his chest and kiss her neck while she ground against him. “You’re such a good girl, so beautiful” he told her, his hand pinched her nipple through the thin white shirt she wore. She was too far gone to notice it wasn’t Elijahs voice as she began to yell and moan out as she humped his leg as fast as she could with a loud “oh god!” That had Klaus’s hand moving down to run his fingers over her slippery clit ferociously. Her hips bucked so much as she came all over him, her body slowly and her head falling against his shoulder as she moaned over and over. Klaus kissed her head gently as he kept rubbing her, loving how she pulsed and shook.

That was something y/n never told Elijah, or anyone for that matter, about.

That was when she realised Klaus wasn’t just innocently flirting to be funny.

She realised all the things he had been doing were intentionally not normal.

She no longer knew how to act around him.

She avoided him at all times, not that it stopped him.

He was always there, always touching her and whispering dirty things into her ear which she hated to admit turned her on.

He knew exactly what game he was playing.

He knew how to make her breath heavier, how to make her whimper, moan, how to make her give in and be ontop of him.

He had her in his shower, up against the wall with his hand over her mouth while she cried and screamed with her forth orgasm dripping down her leg while Elijah was the next room over.

But he could always see her shame and she often tried to break up with Elijah out of guilt but Klaus would catch her before she could “you do that and he will go berserk, let me tell you something love, he is a dangerous man when he’s angry. You don’t want to see what he’d do…to the both of us” he whispered acting as though he were afraid of his brother. “I wont say anything about what we’ve done, ill just say it isn’t working”

“You don’t want us to be together? If you do this we wont be able to”

“Maybe we aren’t meant to be together”

Resulting in him fucking her so hard she forgot what she was doing in the first place.

Everything was great for Klaus, he got to have her as much as he wanted no matter who was around, he didn’t care if she was bent over the couch Elijah was sat on while he took her from behind if it meant she was his.

What wasn’t great was Elijah presenting Klaus with a selection of engagement rings and asking for his advice.

And after hours of back and forth discussion over it being too soon, Klaus burst

“She is not yours!” He yelled throwing the ring Elijah had chosen across the room

“What on earth are you on about!?” elijah questioned

“She is mine! She always will be!”

“Yours? Niklaus if this is another fantasy of yours-“ be began with a sigh

“Oh please, this is far more than a fantasy”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means she loves me more than she does you” he sneered

“You’re delusional”

“The videotape of her in my bed says differently” his face dropped immediately after the words left his mouth

“Excuse me?” Elijah’s tone was far from calm now. His jaw clenched and his hand balled into a fist. “If you put one of your filthy hands on her-“

“Believe me Elijah the only filthy thing was her moans” he laughed making Elijah swing right at his face, knocking him back

“You ruined her!”

“Please, you couldn’t handle your whore so I took her off your hands!” He yelled but his voice died when he saw y/n across from them.

Tears ran down her face as she looked at him before she looked at Elijah and shook her head

“I really wanted to tell you- I’m so sorry! I was going to leave and leave your family alone but-“ she hiccupped between words and she took steps back.

Elijah stormed straight out of the room, he wasn’t even mad at y/n. He should have known Niklaus would’ve done something like this. Ruined someone so perfect and making her feel like a horrible person. Calling her a whore and treating her like one.

Meanwhile Klaus tried to chase after a bolting y/n as she legged it put the house in utter humiliation, self-hatred and fear.

[ksj-com]

Request #2 My Little Secret

- Pairing: Namjoon x Reader - Genre: Highschool!AU, smut, angst, slight fluff - Warnings/Tags: secret relationship, making out, teasing, alcohol mention, drug mention, flirting, flashing, drunk reader, grinding, drunk sex, choking, possessive Namjoon, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), mark making, rough sex, fingering, doggy style, hair pulling, restraints, riding, squirting, supportive best friend - Word Count: 5,211 words - Summary: You and Namjoon have been in a very intensely lustful and loving relationship for some time, but it’s been kept a secret. Namjoon was nerdy, being the captain of the math team. While you were one of the popular party animals of your grade. Fear of judgment and open commitment kept both of your mouths sealed, but Namjoon is growing impatient. It’s time for you to step up and forget about what people might say. 

|| To read Chloe’s story with Jungkook, click here ||

     High school was a drag. Everyday we ate the same kind of food, dress the same, sit in front of the same kind of teachers...yeah school was just that kind of hell.

     You found yourself sitting at lunch with your friends Olivia, Lucy, Hannah, and Chloe. Chloe was your best friend out of the group by far, you both couldn’t do anything without each other.

     Your fingers dug into the cold hard french fries and brought it to your mouth. Yuck. School lunches really were the worst, but you were too lazy to make yourself lunches everyday. You couldn’t even say anything because, no matter how stale the fries were, you still got them everyday. 

     Other than the food, lunch was the best part of the day. You always found yourself wheezing your head off from laughter with your friends over the dumbest stuff. Just as you were right now, hand slapping on the table as you tried not to choke on the fry in your mouth. The inside jokes you guys had always got you the most. It took you a couple minutes to wipe the tears forming on the corners of your eyes and to catch your breath.

     Everyone had already started a new conversation by the time you were able to function again. Looking up, you locked eyes with Namjoon across the room. He probably saw you laughing your ass off before, guessing by the humored smile spread across his face. He pulls his bottom lip in while looking at you, standing up and leaving the room immediately after.

     “Hey guys, I’ll be right back... gotta use the bathroom,” you spring to your feet and walk out of the cafeteria as casual as you can. Your feet quicken when you hear the doors shut behind you. The light taps of your sneakers hitting the school floor bounced through the locker halls. Your tongue brushes over your front teeth to make sure there’s no food stuck in them. You turn to a different hall where the janitors closet it. What a cliché.

     You open the door to see Namjoon inside waiting for you. The room had one dim lightbulb dangling from the ceiling. You close the door lightly behind you and look back at him.

     “You look good today,” he grabs you by your hips to pull you close to him. 

     “Not so bad yourself,” you look up at him. He looks down at you smiling with his cute dimples and ash blonde hair. Tip toeing up to him, your lips meets in a string of kisses. Smiling and giggling between some kisses from being in a janitors closet. It wasn’t new for you two to meet here occasionally to talk and kiss, but you couldn’t help but think it was a little ridiculous.

     His hands slide into your back pockets as you glided your palms across his chest. Providing a little space between your bodies so it wouldn’t get too heated in school. He almost pulls you over the edge when his hands give your ass a slight squeeze in your pockets. Your breath hiccups into his mouth, causing him to smirk. Your hands slide up to cup his face just before you disconnect the kiss. A little laugh rises in your throat when you both stand there looking at each other with goofy smiles on both faces. You flick your tongue on the tip of his nose and step away from him a bit. Stepping away revealed the visible boner he already had. You peel your eyes away from his dick to look at his face.

     “I’ll see you at Chloe’s party tonight, right?” You ask.

     He pushes his hands down his front jean pockets, creating space in order to make his boner not as noticeable. His eyes raked down your body while he rocked back and fourth on his heels. “Of course,” he nods.

     “Trust me, those blue balls won’t be there by the end of it,” you wink playfully before pushes the door open behind you. You couldn’t hide the smile on your face as you walked back to the cafeteria.

     For about 5 months, you and Namjoon have had a ‘thing.’ You both were basically dating and loyal to each other, but you wouldn’t call it dating since you both kept it a secret. You both hang out with completely different groups of people. Namjoon was the more nerdy side, while you were the party animal. You both were scared of the judgement and the drama that may be created once you both were together, so to solve that, you kept it to yourselves. Although, the hiding got old. The longer you both hid, the harder it grew to tell your best friend. If she accepted you, then no one else mattered. But, you never could find the right timing to tell her.

     You wiped the smile off your face when you walked through the cafeteria doors once again. Sitting back down to your table to meet your cold fries again.

     “Damn, is everything okay? Or did you just take a massive shit?” Chloe asks, followed by everyone laughing. You couldn’t help but join in on their laughter too from the question. The rest of lunch was discussing the party plans for tonight, which was all a blur to you.

     You notice on the corner of your eye that Namjoon walked in a little bit after you. Continuing to zone out, you thought about Namjoon and what it would be like if he sat over here— or if you sat over there. Would people be so used to the typical highschool stereotypes that people would talk about it, or would people not care at all?

     Fingers snap in front of your face to get your attention again. You blink a few times before realizing everyone at your table was looking at you confused. “What were you guys talking about? Sorry,” your words fumble out of your mouth.

•••

     Chloe examined her body in the mirror while complaining about a guy named Jungkook. They have been enemies, forever it seemed, and you never really understood a good reason as to why. Apparently he’s throwing a party tonight just like Chloe is, so she’s ranting about it. Meanwhile, you try to convince her that tonight will be a blast and her party will be the best, no matter whoever else is throwing a party.

     “Now move bitch so I can see how I look,” you laugh and nudge her aside. You fluffed up your blonde loosely curled hair in your hands and made sure your light makeup on your face was freshened up enough. The makeup was light enough to still be able to see the faint freckles that bloomed on your nose and top cheeks. The mascara making your blue eyes pop, contrasting your originally blonde eyelashes.

     You skimmed down to your outfit for tonight; you made sure to change before going over to Chloe’s house. A silky light tan blouse loosely covered your chest. It was a button up, but you left the top few buttons open. Your chest and upper stomach visible and bare, other than the simple necklace dropping to the middle of your chest. The blouse was tucked into a pair of light blue, high waisted, denim jeans. You had to admit that you looked damn good. Usually wearing leggings and sweatshirts everyday, you were surprised you had this kind of stuff in your closet.

     Excited for tonight, you twirl around to face Chloe with a smile on your face. You ask her if she has her eyes set on anyone for tonight, hoping it would create the perfect opportunity to tell her your secret.

     “What about you?” she asks. You were a bit nervous when the moment actually came.

     “Namjoon,” you say in a low tone voice in order to make it seem like you were half joking. It was a good thing you decided to test out the waters before telling her seriously.

     She scrunches her nose. “Going for a straight edge tonight? Changing it up I see.” You both laugh, yet you couldn’t help but feel you sink into yourself in slight embarrassment.

     Maybe next time, you think to yourself. The sound of the doorbell saved you from trying to explain yourself to Chloe. Your step brother, Hoseok, always hooked you guys up with alcohol and drugs for Chloe’s parties since he was of age. Everyone helps set up for the party and you both say goodbye to Hobi.

     “A little pregame never hurt nobody,” you nudge Chloe, making her giggle. You could handle your liquor way better than her, but that didn’t stop you guys from taking a couple shots and snacking a bit before the party started. You hoped that the drinks would loosen you up a bit to tell Chloe what’s been going on. You both joked with each other while eating chex mix and chips, waiting for the people to start flooding in. The doorbell rang and Chloe rushed to the door.

     Namjoon and a few other people stood at the door, waiting to be invited in. Chloe stood to the side, followed by greeting everyone inside. You couldn’t hide your smile when Namjoon made his way over to you in the kitchen. He was wearing a white shirt with a jean jacket and black jeans. He let his hair have a messy appearance, yet it still looked good.

     You hand him a drink in a red solo cup. You both end up taking a drink at the same time, fluttering your eyes up to meet his while drinking the painfully sweet liquid. Shooting you a wink while the cup was still up to his mouth made you giggle before you both disconnected the cups from your lips.

     “Shots anybody?” you lay a few shot glasses on the counter, the couple people at the party joining in. You pour some vanilla vodka in each cup, dribbling some between each glass. After clinking shot glasses with everybody, the drink burns down your throat and chest. Everyone does a couple more before people started to complain about how no one else was coming in.

     Chloe yanks you outside on her front porch and pushes her mouth next to your ear. “Flash the people over there when I say. Jungkook stole all the people away from my party and we have to get them back,” she whispers.

     Bordering drunk now, you went with it and shrugged for an answer. You waited for her to count down, unbuttoning the shirt buttons a little further down.

     “One, two, three!” she lifts her shirt up while you pull your blouse to each side. Chloe calls them to get their attention, and sure enough, her plan worked. You both started laughing when the people started flooding in from across the street. Since your job was done, you headed back inside to Namjoon who was still in the kitchen. You resume taking a couple more shots until you tap out for tonight. Taking so many shots in such short time might’ve not been the smartest idea.

     When you heard the song No Flockin by Kodak Black, you stumbled out to the floor as quickly as possible. This was your song and no one could stop you from making a complete fool out of yourself. You jumped around, waved your arms and head to the beat of the song. The room was almost spinning around you, but you didn’t care since your eyes were closed while dancing anyways. 

     You felt a body next to you and you look to see Chloe dancing next to you. She jumped around with you, both not caring how stupid you guys looked. You notice her look behind you before a presence was pressed up against your backside. You knew who it was, but acted confused since Chloe was there. You turned around to meet eyes with Namjoon. He gives you a lazy smile, clearly buzzed. When looking back at Chloe, she gives you a thumbs up with a big smile on her face.

     You begin to dance with him as Chloe walks away after noticing Jungkook. You grind into him, the harsher you grind the more his fingers grip your waist. You lean into him before dropping to the ground and popping back up, making sure your ass is back against his dick. When you lean back into him again, his hands slide around your waist to pull you as close as possible.

     “You’re so sexy, but you need to be taught a lesson from earlier. Can’t be teasing me like this just yet,” he drops his head to your neck while your bodies press against each other. You twirl around to lead him to one of the guest bedrooms. Even though this wasn’t your house, you knew Chloe’s house like the back of your hand.

     You shut the door behind you, watching the light from the hallway shrink to nothing. Namjoon takes no time to scoop you up and walk you over to the bed. He drops you down, you laughing from bouncing when hitting the bed. His lips smash against yours roughly, your tongues wrapping around each other’s. His hand wraps around your neck as he sucks your lips raw. You squirmed underneath him, wanting more. He pulled away just barely enough that your lips were still slightly touching his.

     “You’re mine. I want everyone to know by the end of tonight,” his lips suck harshly on your neck. Making sure to leave marks down to your chest. You moaned at his words, arching your chest up towards him. “All those guys looking at you. Not knowing that you’re take my dick. Only mine isn’t that right?” he mumbles and bites on your sensitive skin.

     “Yes. Only yours, Joonie,” you whine.

     “Good. And we’re telling them tonight babygirl,” he wraps his mouth around one of your nipples, sucking harshly while he flicked the other one rapidly. You suck in your bottom lip and bite down to try to stop yourself from making noise, but it was too much. You squeezed his hair in your hands and moaned his name. “It’s my turn to tease,” he shakes your hands off his head. Pinning your wrists to your sides as his tongue glides up your chest. You were both grinding into each other, feeling his massive length being restricted by his jeans. You cause him to groan when you lift your hips up to him to press against him harder.

     His lips meet yours again. Fumbling fingers ripped your blouse completely open and peeling your jeans off. He looked down at your body completely bare other than the baby blue lace underwear you had on. His fingers curled around the underwear band and slid them off slowly. He pulls you to the side of the bed and kneels down, so his face is in front of your pussy. He was still fully clothed while he licked and sucked your damp inner thighs. You jolt from the sudden roughness, snaking your body closer. You wanted nothing more than have your thighs be ear muffs to him right now. He took his time before reaching your pussy, pinching your lips and rubbing them together between his fingers. Everything was soaking wet and ready for him to do whatever he pleased to you. He continued the motion as he dug his tongue around your clit. Beginning to swirl it around in circles, and then, he started to suck. You whimper when he blows cool air before he switches his mouth and fingers.

     His tongue curls inside of you while his hand flicks and rubs your engorged clit. A sudden light smack to your pussy causing you to jump from the electrifying feeling running throughout your body. Your fingers pulled at the bed sheets and you could feel your core ignite. As you were heaving like a mad man, he switched again. His fingers slammed inside of you at an unholy pace. He brings himself up to kiss you roughly while doing so. Your tongues messier than you both think, the alcohol in your systems causing you to not really care either way. You pull his lip in between your teeth, causing him to moan.

     When his lip snaps back, he pulls his fingers out of you to flip you over. He quickly takes off his clothes before kneeling behind you on the bed. He pushes your face down and pulls your ass up to his raised cock. You arch your back to glide your pussy up and down his cock. A moan rises from his throat from the feeling of being pulled between your folds. He grabs your wrists again and pulls them both behind your back. He holds them in place while his other hand guides his cock into your pussy. He slides in with ease from how dripping wet you already were. 

     Moments later, he begins smacking inside of you quickly. Your skin ripples from the force of his hips against your ass. He smacked your ass and uses his free hand to grab your hair. Your cheek was still against the mattress as he fucked you senseless. Moans fill the room with the sound of the bed scooting across the floor each time he thrusts into you. He smacks your ass over and over. The pain of the blotched handprints on your ass cheek made your moans grow louder.

     “You like it when I take control, baby?” he pants. Sweat beaded across his chest and forehead.

     “Yes Joonie,” you muffle a whine.

     His hand let’s go of your hair and moves to your neck. He pulls you up while still pumping into you. He squeezed just enough to not fuck you into passing out. His thumb slightly pushing into your airway. Your moans squeak passed his grip and your vision was getting a little worse than it already was.

     He let’s go just in time for you to catch your breath. You spread out your legs further, his hand dipping between to rub your sloppy wet pussy. Your toes curl as you scream his name.

     “Just like that,” you whine. You feel yourself cum on his dick still slamming in you. The feeling of you clenching on his dick sends him over the edge. He pulls out and releases his cum on your back. You lay flat on your stomach as you feel the hot liquid rest on your back. Namjoon leaves and returns quickly with a rag to wipe you off with. He gently rubs your back until it’s dry and collapses next to you. His arms props him up so he’s facing you as his other hands traces up and down your spine. His finger traces further and further down until he gives your butt a little squeeze before resuming to his previous actions.

     “(Y/N)?” he says softly, completely going against how harsh his voice was from before. 

     You hum in response. Too fucked out, drunk, and tired to put together a proper sentence. 

     “I want to be exclusive with you for real. It wasn’t just me saying that in the heat of sex,” he looks at your soft skin. He isn’t drunk like you are and he was hoping this wasn’t going to be forgotten about in the morning.

     You pull his hand in yours and kiss his knuckle before laying your head on top of his hand. “I know. When we go back downstairs...” you drift your sentence off to nothing. You knock out before even finishing your sentence, making him chuckle. He kisses your temple and pulls a blanket over the both of your bare bodies. It wasn’t long before you both doze off together, yet it wasn’t long before you got back up as well.

     About 30 minutes later, you wake up dying of thirst. You roll out of bed and slip your clothes on blindly. You didn’t care if they were inside out or backwards. Wobbling down the steps, you notice Chloe cleaning up the party mess with no one else in the house. You knew it wasn’t late enough for everyone to have left yet, so you wondered what could’ve happened.

     “Where did the party go?” your words slur into one another. Your feet dragged over to the fridge to fill up a cup of water to the brim. You watch her throw away dirty cups in a garbage bag as you waited for your glass to fill from the fridge.

     “I’ll tell you when you’re not drunk,” she says in an annoyed tone. Your drunk mind almost tells her your secret right there, but the sliver of good judgement tells you it’s definitely not the time. She was not in a good mood. The only way you could stop yourself from spilling your secret was to slam the glass of water. You chugged the whole glass, water dripping past your chin. You guys talk for a bit while you fill up your glass for a second time.

     After tripping upstairs, you met Namjoon again upstairs just how you left. “Hey, I brought you some water,” you whisper while setting the glass on the nightstand. He groans and pulls you back in bed next to him, burying his head into the crook of your neck. He left soft kisses where he laid his head, causing your eyes to flutter closed. You sighed happily from the feeling of his soft breaths and his hands pulling you into his embrace.

     “I love you,” you blurt out for the first time. His head rises and he looks at you with wide eyes. You shrink into yourself and shy away, maybe you said it too soon? Answering your worries, his body twists on top of yours. He leaves kisses all over your face, causing you to smile and laugh. He looks at you with a smile on his face.

     “I love you too,” he breathes. The silence in the air reveals the sounds of moaning coming from downstairs.

     “Damn she’s really getting it down there,” you laugh. You couldn’t help but wonder who the hell would she be fucking when she was just cleaning up downstairs by herself.

     “Yeah. We might as well be getting it up here too,” he kisses your lips slowly.

     “You wanna go for a round two?” you cock your eyebrow.

     “Mmm maybe,” he mumbles against your lips before kissing them again. You twist so you’re on top of him. You slip off your clothing, him watching since he was already naked from before. You crawl back on top of him and roll your hips around his dick causing his head to fall back. Your hands trail up his bare chest. You were already wet from feeling him grow in your folds, so you guided him. You bit down as you sunk into him. He scoots up so he can lean on the bed’s headboard and he’s facing you.

     You swirl your hips around him while he’s inside before beginning to bounce on his lap. He watches your figure jiggle deliciously on top of his, but his hands grip at your breasts to hold them in place and lick every inch of them. His tongue teasing your nipples, making you moan and wrap your arms around his neck for support. He nibbles on your skin before his lips reach yours once again. His kisses were slow and passionate as his hands cup your face.

     Every thought that flooded his head just hoped that this would last forever. He really did love you and he hoped that tonight isn’t happening just because you’re drunk. He wanted you and everything that came with you. The worst thing that he could think of is that you would regret telling him that you love him. It would break him.

     His thoughts ran wild throughout his head, but pushed aside from the pleasure he was feeling. He watches you lean back and rest your hands on the tops of his thighs. Your arms resting behind you as you continued to grind and bounce on him. Your body rolling against him to still feel the friction against your sensitive clit.

     Namjoon turned on one of the lamps while you left the room earlier. Silently praising himself over it while he watched your gorgeous body. He began to claw at your waist and push you down further, taking in the last bit of his dick. He guided you to roll around his hips at a constant pace. He couldn’t contain his moan as he watched your pussy drip on him as he fucked you harder. His eyes travel up your body to your face.

     Slightly covered by hair, yet you could still tell you were on your last strings. Eyes screwed shut and biting your lips closed. Your mouth opened as your moans turned into cries. You were so close and he quickened his pace to watch you release on him.

     “Cum, baby. Let go,” he croaks in a low tone.

     You rub into him quickly until you feel yourself squirt all over him, dripping down his thighs and stomach. Your head falls back with your eyes screwed shut. You cry out from the intense pleasure until you feel him yank out of you quickly.

     He holds his dick in his hands as his cum falls over his fingers. He looks at you with wide eyes as he says, “Jesus I didn’t want to pull out— almost came in you.” You laugh in response as you wipe up his mess, taking the cloth out of your hands to wipe it up.

     “Do you-“

     “Shh...wait,” he interrupts by placing his finger against your lips. You both stare at each other in complete silence. The key part: silence. “Perfect. They’re done fucking. Let’s go join the party,” Namjoon starts to pull his clothes back on.

     Gulping back your nervousness, you join him by putting your clothes back on as well. “When I went down there, there was no one but Chloe so I think they went back over to Jungkook’s again,” you comb your fingers through your hair to tame the messiness. He stands behind you and watches you in the mirror, admiring how beautiful you looked even when you weren’t trying. He wrapped his arms around your waist to dip down, leaving a kiss on your cheek.

     “You’re so cute,” he smiles at you.

     You wrinkle your nose at him from the compliment. “No, I look like the definition of fucked up.” You looked at yourself in the mirror. Mascara crumbling and smeared down your cheeks, lipstick sucked off, and hair a frizzy mess.

    He laughs and shakes his head. “Come on. You look great,” he holds out his hand for you to grab. You made sure to wipe your under eyes clean before taking his hand. Your nerves are shown through your worrisome eyes and Namjoon can read right through it.

     “Hey, listen we can do this. But remember, the gap in the door is a separate reality. You may feel confident in us behind closed doors, but you need to be able to feel that same confidence outside. The only me is me. Are you sure the only you is you? You have to live like it, because at the end of the day, who cares what people are going to think?” He rubs your shoulders to comfort you before taking your hand again. 

     The first thing you saw when you walked over to Jungkook’s party was Chloe cuddled up at Jungkook’s side. The sight of them holding hands and kissing made your eyes almost pop out of your sockets. You walk over to her with Namjoon behind you.

     “What’s this?” you yell over the music.

     “We’re, like, dating now! Crazy right?” A smile grows on her face. Jungkook hugs her to his side as he talks to his friends.

     “Well...” you trail off as you look back at Namjoon. His smile widens as he meets eyes with you, he knows that you’re finally going to rip off the bandaid you both have had on your relationship. Now was the perfect time to finally start being everything you both wanted to be. You look back at Chloe who still had her goofy smile planted on her face. You clear your throat before saying,”Namjoon and I have been kinda...dating for awhile now.”

     Chloe’s mouth drops and she whispers in Jungkook’s ear that she’ll be right back. He let’s go of her waist and she pulls you aside. “Are you serious?” her eyes scan across your face, waiting for the joke’s punchline.

     You nod, ashamed that you didn’t tell her sooner.

     “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Why didn’t you tell me?” she questions.

     “I don’t know. Scared of judgement, drama, people butting into something that isn’t their business,” you bite your cheek. You dug yourself a hole by not telling anyone.

     She scoffs and crosses her arms. “Why would I judge you? You’re my best friend,” attitude ringing in her voice, she was clearly offended that her own best friend would hide something like that with her.

     “I- listen. I was just scared. You know me, I’m not the type to be in a relationship. I thought they just weren’t my thing, but he’s different. He makes me so happy. I thought that if people knew about us, then it would change things between us. And I like how we have been, but I think I’m ready to take it to the next step like how he has been.” You spill everything that has been on your mind, hoping it wouldn’t make the situation even worse.

     She pulls you in a hug. “You’re my bitch. You don’t have to be scared to tell me anything. If he makes you happy, that’s all that matters. You guys look cute together, so don’t be scared of what people say. Who cares, they’re probably just jealous anyways,” she shakes your shoulders. “Now go get your man. He’s waiting for you.”

     “Hold up... you and Jungkook though? How did that happen?” you laugh.

     She rolls her eyes as her smile grows on her face once again. “I’ll fill you in tomorrow...trust me.” She spins you around and you can see Namjoon across the room. He looks up at you with admiration and love in his eyes. You both walk back over to your previous places. 

     “How’d it go?” he whispers in your ear. 

     You lean back into him, the weight lifted from your chest. “It went good. Now let’s show everyone that we can’t be fucked with.” You flip around to face him, arms wrapped around his neck. You pull him into a kiss, you felt on top of the world. After that night, he was more than your little secret. 

Requested by: @pjm-com

[littlemisskookie]

Spell-tacular

Spell-tacular Ship: Greaser!Yoongi | Witch!Reader Description: Highschool!AU, 50/60′s!AU, Witch!AU, Best Friends to Lovers; Despite living in the same neighborhood and going to the same school since diapers, you were a complete enigma to Yoongi. It wasn’t until you save his life that he realizes exactly what you are- and loves it. Warnings: Established Relationship, Public Sex, Unprotected Sex, Squirting, D/S Undertones, Dom!Yoongi, Pussy Slapping, Ass Eating (both), Blowjob, Face Fucking, Choking, Oral, Themes of Violence, Death, LOTS of Angst, So much fluff you’ll get a cavity Word Count: 22,664 A/N: Sorry I’ve been on Semi-Hiatus for a while! Hopefully, this makes up for it.

Yoongi knew you were different- though good or bad, he wasn't quite sure.

The two of you had lived in the tiny town your entire lives, and though everyone knew everything about everybody, that wasn't the case with you and your family. The group never seemed to venture far our outside of their house, and you were the only one frequently seen, though you stayed to yourself. Yoongi was never sure if that was because you wanted to stay alone, or because the entire town saw you and your people as an aloof freakshow.

Not that they had absolutely no reason to, however.

Your family was constantly seen wearing the weirdest clothes- bold and wild colors rather than the mundane browns that others wore. Most of the women in the suburbs wore heels and elegant dresses that reached knee length, supporting their husbands as they went off to war and heading to the factories. Your mother didn't seem to work in the factories though- but it wasn't as though she spent much time at home. It was the same way for her even during the depression. The few times your mother was seen she had worn combat boots with a purple cape, her face obscured by the hood, but one could tell that her hair had been held in a tight bun. On the few occasions that her face was seen, it was remarked that she had sunken in eyes as well as dark bags, as though the woman hadn't heard of makeup. Even once everyone was able to afford and buy it.

Your father was a more mysterious case. He didn't seem to do combat and join the army forces the way the other men did, but even after, he didn't work at the schools or the factories. He did dress better than your mother, however, though that wasn't a hard task to accomplish. The bow ties and clothing was far out of style, as though he had picked something up from decades before. He had the same dark circles but was somehow prestigious, his beard grown and his glasses perched upon the tip of his nose. He was more approachable, despite being aloof and shrouded with just as much mystery.

The neighborhood pitied their only daughter, having to grow up with such strange parents. You lived in the giant mansion up on the hill, and though it seemed run down, it still was eerily majestic. Many of the neighborhood boys claimed it was haunted by the looks of it, but something told Yoongi it was far deeper than that. He couldn't quite place what was off about it, though.

Yoongi's mother recounted one of the days she was off work and stayed at the daycare with the other moms and toddlers, and though Yoongi was too young to remember the incident, many of the witnesses that day can recall it with the same level of detail and accuracy.

Your mother wasn't interacting with the other women in the room, who would babble on about obscure things and their humdrum lives as their children played. Instead, she kept her eyes on you with a bored expression. It wasn't as though she were hovering over you or giving you that eagle-eye stare- overprotective parents were common. No, it seemed bored, as though she were expecting something.

And true enough, it did.

Out of the blue, the stuffed animal in your hand erupted into flames, fire catching onto it quickly enough. You held onto it, though, unreactive to the screams of the mothers around you, and not at all reactive to the fire.

Your mother, on the other hand, calmly picked it up and dropped it to the floor, stomping on it with her worn out boot until the flames were extinguished. She then sat back in her chair, crossing her arms and wearing the same undazed expression as you picked up the burnt and charred stuffed animal and continued what you were doing.

That wasn't the only time unnatural stuff occurred around you, however. By the time your grade had enrolled in school, there were odd occurrences. Your parents were no longer seen around, and because you lived further on top of the hill, the bus didn't pick you up. Yoongi would wonder how you found so much energy to walk to and from school every day, but you didn't seem to mind that. Maybe you just liked being alone instead of on a bus with rowdy kids who wouldn't want to talk to you anyway.

Throughout elementary school, there would be odd occurrences. In 2nd grade, Jung Eunwoo had made fun of the second-hand dress that was too loose on your body, comparing it to a paper bag. After recess that same day, the water fountain randomly combusted while Eunwoo was taking a drink, and she was soaked from head to toe.

In fifth grade, you were playing dodgeball during P.E., and Yoongi, popular despite how overly stoic he could seem, had picked you first out of kindness, knowing you'd often be picked last. You had seemed surprised by the gesture, busy reading through some thick, dusty textbook, but nevertheless joined. It was during that match that Jeon Jungkook, (an infamous cheater at the game who had given all too many people nosebleeds and tears, one time even cornering a girl and knocking her out with a single blow), had fainted mid-game after cornering you. Apparently, he passed out the moment he raised his arm to pummel you. Your team won by a landslide, but he was still shocked and confused over what happened that day.

Another event was in middle school, sixth grade when your grade was in the midst of puberty, acne and all. Your hair was frizzy, different from your parents, who always had it slicked back. Instead, it was as though you had been electrified, your hair static and standing on edge. You and the other girls in school were just beginning to grow curves and breasts, and despite how you were becoming more attractive through the slow process of puberty, people still didn't approach you. It didn't seem as though you'd mind, though, your nose always buried in the latest dusty textbook. Yoongi had once made the mistake of waiting all week for you at the library to see if you'd show up, but you never did. He assumed you just got the books from your house.

What truly solidified Yoongi's suspicions of your abnormal behaviors was next year, when you both in your last stage of preteen awkwardness, soon to be official teenagers. Yoongi had been tracked down on his way back home and was currently being jumped by a few upperclassmen, brutish high schoolers, intent on asserting their dominance on the gangly-limbed boy who they had stumbled upon. Yoongi was just an easy target, walking by himself, and with a lack of an impressive build. He wasn't the type to wear the leather jackets or grease his hair, as the typical 50s trend was. He was too young to truly catch up on much, quite frankly. Though he doubted that was the reason he was targetted. Despite the fact he'd later become the captain of the basketball team, he never seemed to have an intimidating stature when it came to height.

It was three other boys who didn't have anything better to do. No, they weren't jocks or delinquents- hell, Yoongi didn't know which stereotypical cliques they'd be classified from. It wasn't really the point- they were just boys trying to pick a fight that they knew they'd win.

At that point Yoongi had a busted lip and had crumpled on the floor, the three mocking him with flicks on the forehead and slaps at the back of the head, teasing him for his incapability to properly defend himself from three bullies. They continuously taunted him, pounding their fists and so on. It wasn't as though Yoongi could call 911, as cellphones hadn't existed back then, and the nearest pay phone wasn't in the neighborhood. He couldn't call out for help either since no one else was on the path to his suburban neighborhood, and he had to stay after school for basketball auditions.

He was trapped.

It wasn't until a girl with polka-dot magenta dress sauntered behind the boys when no one was paying attention. If Yoongi was looking out at his surroundings in the meantime, he would've recognized you from a mile away. It wasn't the boots that you always wore or the frizzy hair that was the icing on the cake, but rather the oversized goggles you constantly wore, pushed back like a headband to keep the wisps of hair out of your face. Sure, the fashion had switched from poodle skirts to tight jeans, but you were every bit as strange as your parents.

Yoongi had his arms over his head and was curled up in a ball to protect his face and vital organs. It wasn't until he heard a sharp yelp that his head snapped up, seeing you with your hand on one of the boys' shoulders, who had crumpled to his knees and shook violently before Yoongi. It was as though he was suffering from a violent seizure, his eyes rolling back and his body convulsing before him. In the distance, Yoongi could faintly make out the other two running away, and it wasn't until he fell flat on the floor, blacking out, that Yoongi allowed himself to breathe.

You wore a calm expression on your face, shoving your hands in your pockets as you looked down at Yoongi. You raised a brow, studying his face as though you had never seen it before, despite the fact you two had been in the same classes since you were in diapers.

"Are you ok, Yoongi?" you questioned, examining the blood at the corner of his lip where they had busted it.

"Y...Yeah," Yoongi said softly. He felt somewhat scared to question you about what had just happened, seeing as he could barely process it himself.

You kneeled down, face to face with him. Yoongi realized at that moment just how pretty you were. Weird and unusual, but pretty nonetheless. You weren't like Samantha Baker, who always had her hair smooth and skin flawless, but you had an undeniable beauty to you that someone could only notice if they looked at you from close up. Most people were ugly close up, as you could see their flaws and imperfections, but it was the opposite for you.

You reached out, brushing your thumb against the wound. Yoongi hissed and recoiled from the sting, and you withdrew your hand, some of the blood getting on your thumb.

"Sorry," you said quickly, flinching as well. "It's not that bad- it'll heal in no time, I'm sure. I've got some medicine at my place that should do the trick. I'd understand if you'd rather be left alone, though."

"No, it's ok.  I'll come," Yoongi said. He didn't know why he said it. It wasn't as though he knew you that well. Hell, you two weren't even friends, really. Besides, as curious as he was about your house and family, it wasn't as though he was itching for the opportunity to take a peek inside. Maybe... maybe he just wanted a little longer around you.

The two of you walked together towards your mansion on the hill, and though Yoongi didn't necessarily find it creepy or eery as did his friends, there was still an air of mystery to it.

As soon as you two approached the rusted gate at the base of the walkway to the mansion, it swung open for you two, and before he knew it the two of you were at the front door.

"Wait here," you said, easily opening the door and closing it behind you. Yoongi wondered why you didn't use a key, as it seemed rather foolish to leave such a prestigious house unlocked. He supposed, however, that it was none of his business. He was left staring at the face of the door knocker, a stone dragon with its mouth hanging wide open, the hoop clinging to its jaws between the monstrous teeth. It was so wide open, Yoongi figured he could fit the meat of his arm inside.

He was suddenly startled when he heard various crashing noises from the other side, and soon enough the door swung open. Your goggles were lopsided and your clothes fit funny, but you welcomed him in. To his surprise, the inside of the house was dusty but organized, despite the sounds of a quarrel earlier.

"Stay here. I'll get the medicine," you say, quickly leaving him to observe the house.

It was old and antique, looking ancient but expensive. He looked around, noticing how every inch of the walls was covered with bookshelves piled with dusty textbooks or scrolls. Some of the walls were covered in knickknacks, such as pictures or empty frames, or horseshoes and clocks. Needless objects covered each spare foot, some with writing that Yoongi had never seen before.

He heard the shuffling of footsteps all around him, or the sound of furniture moving, but each time he turned around to find the source of the noise... nothing.

Eventually, he found himself placed in front of a giant painting of your parents.

He could see where you got your quiet beauty from. Your father had strong features, despite how hidden it was. Your mother, for once depicted without the infamous hood, had a sultry and mysterious look, her dark makeup complimenting her image. The two of them appeared stern and broody, and Yoongi wondered how long they had to pose in order for the painter to portray them as old grumps.

"There you are. I was worried you had wandered off."

He turned, and in your hand, you held a bottle. You placed your hand on his cheek, your fingers warm as you made him face you. "Stay still," you spoke, pouring some of the ointment onto your fingers.

Your fingers brushed against his parted lips, and he felt tense. He had kissed a girl- what was so nerve-wracking about one touching his lips? Was it just because he was twelve, and got nervous over every girl in proximity? Or was it more?

"Hey, where are your parents? I would figure they'd be curious about a guy being over and all..." Yoongi wondered.

Your hand stilled in mid-air, and you were silent for a minute. Yoongi was worried about your pause when you spoke. "They're dead."

Yoongi's eyes were wide, but before he could speak you held your hand up to silence him. "It's fine. You don't have to apologize- it isn't your fault. Besides, it's not like I'm really torn up over it. They've been dead for about a year."

"Since you were eleven?" Yoongi gawked. "How did you stay alone in this huge mansion all by yourself? Go to school every day? And the bills for this place must be huge!"

You gave him a weak smile, your cheeks getting a dusty color. "I manage. I'd appreciate if you didn't tell anyone, though. They don't notice since my parents weren't exactly known for going out often, but still, it'd cause a lot of hassle if the word were to get out. I know my parents wouldn't have wanted that."

"You have my word," Yoongi solemnly promised.

You gave him a genuine smile at that and went back to put the medicine back in its proper place. Yoongi looked around, but when he looked back up to the painting, he saw your father's smile, and one of his eyes shut to give him a wink.

Yoongi let out a yelp in surprise, stepping back to bump into one of the sofas. It skidded far more forward than he had expected, and soon you were running back in.

"What is it? What happened?" Your eyes were wide as you looked to Yoongi frantically.

"T-The painting- Your dad-" Yoongi pointed to the painting in question, peering back up at it, only to see that the painting was back in its original state. He gawked in surprise, his jaw slack. "Wait, what? I swear- the picture- your father- he had smiled and was winking and- it moved!"

You shook your head at him, brows furrowed. "Pictures don't move, Yoongi."

"I'm telling you the truth!"

Yoongi wondered for a moment if you were gaslighting him, but he couldn't exactly confront you properly at that. Soon enough, you were escorting him from the premises. "I don't think this house is doing you much good. Besides, you've had a stressful day, it's natural for you to be seeing things. I'll see you around."

Before he could protest, you closed the door in his face, separating you two with the wooden barrier. Yoongi took notice to how the dragon's trap was shut this time around, and surprisingly, the next morning his busted lip had completely healed.

The bullies wouldn't be able to recall the events of what happened, as though it were completely wiped from their memory, and Yoongi was left wondering what exactly about you made all these things possible. His eye was kept on you in class, noting how even when your backpack was filled with textbooks from both home and school, you were able to lift it as though it were as light as a feather. Other times, when he'd see you running through the hallways to get from place to place, he could swear your feet didn't even touch the ground, a mere inch separating the soles of your rundown combat boots to the tile. No one seemed to notice how you were able to get into locked rooms without the teacher's key.

At this point, Yoongi wasn't even sure you were human.

It was when you were eating lunch alone about a week after that Yoongi finally found the guts to approach you. He didn't know what was wrong with him. At this point he had found a respectable reputation with your grade, already making it onto the basketball. Hell, rumor had it that Lim Nayoung had the hots for him, and in 7th grade, she was considered to be the prettiest dolly in class. For a twelve-year-old, that is.

But instead of simply swallowing whatever lingering curiosity he felt towards you, and playing it safe, he sat next to you.

You took a moment to realize he was sitting next to you, as you had your hands on a dusty book as always. It wasn't until Yoongi gave an awkward cough that you looked up, perplexed. You blinked in surprise. "Can I help you?"

Yoongi could feel the stares of his friends at the nearby table, their gazes burning through his skull, their murmurs audible. "I just wanted to talk. I realized I never properly thanked you. Thank you for what happened next week. I am grateful."

"It was nothing," you said simply, returning back to your book.

His face flushed red at the rejection, and he could hear the snickers of his friends behind him. Still, he persisted a bit. "I was wondering if you'd want to walk home together? We take the same path."

Your brows furrowed as you locked eyes with him. "No thank you."

He felt his heart sink. "I... respect your decision. But is it alright if I ask why?"

"I just don't want to be a source of amusement for your friends. They make fun of me enough," you shrug. Yoongi's mind wandered to when Nayoung and Eunwoo were commenting on how weird you were, murmuring and snickering to themselves about your weird books and funny clothes. It was no secret that you were seen as an oddball, as was the rest of your family. It was understandable that you had your reservations.

"I want you to know that wasn't my intention. I just wanted to spend some time with you. Get to know you better, y'know?" He paused, eliciting no reaction from you. He sighed. "I'll leave you alone then. Sorry for bothering you."

He walked back to his table, dejected. His friends hollered and slapped him on the back, snickering at his reaction.

"What made you go for weirdo Y/N of all girls? Got a type for freams?" one friend joked.

"Shut up, Jimin," Yoongi hissed. "You're the one who's mental, considering the fact you got your head stuck in a chair."

"It was one time!"

"What Jimin's saying is that you don't want to get involved with her. After all, she's her mother's daughter," another friend pointed out.

Yoongi's lips pursed in annoyance. "It's not the 1800's anymore, let's not express prejudice. The adults do that enough for us. Besides, I can say the same about you, Taehyung, and your mother collects bath salts."

"Wow, this crush has got you acting bonkers!" Jimin commented, wincing at Yoongi's low blow. "What's got you so whipped? I didn't even think you knew Y/N."

"Forget about it, ok? It's not a crush. What's wrong with a guy wanting to be friends with someone?"

"As much as she may not look- or act- like one, she is still a girl," Taehyung pointed out.

"So?"

"So? You're a boy. A straight one at that. I don't know what Y/N is, but considering the fact I saw her gawk at Kim Seokjin before he moved- right when he got his braces off if you remember- I'd say she's a straight girl."

"Get to the point," Yoongi grunted.

"It's a fundamental fact that boys and girls can't be friends."

"That's bull," Yoongi immediately replied.

"Just admit you want to jump her bones."

"My intentions are completely innocent, unlike you pervs."

The conversation was long forgotten until after lunch when you approached Yoongi, book clutched to your chest.

"I heard you defend me," you said simply, your voice monotonous.

"Oh, uh, it was nothing. Just the decent thing to do," Yoongi replied awkwardly. God, why was he so nervous around you when he had Lim Nayoung of all people up his ass?

"It was." You were silent for a moment, a pregnant pause between the two of you. "If you really want to walk with me to and from school, I'm ok with that. I of all people shouldn't have judged you so quickly. You seem to be a decent guy."

"Really? You're ok with that?" His brows seemed to disappear into his hairline.

"I am," you nodded. "Someone has to make sure you don't get your ass beat again."

Yoongi laughed at that, a genuine, hearty laugh that brought the first smile he had ever seen on your lips.

Time seemed to drag on before it was after school, and he found himself tapping his foot impatiently, anxiety filling him as he waited for you. You approached soon enough, the flurry of students escaping the building far ahead of you.

"You came," you commented.

"I'm the one who suggested this. I wasn't going to just stand you up," Yoongi shrugged, adjusting his backpack.

The two of you walked side by side, unsure of what to talk about.

Yoongi, being the dumbass he was, simply questioned what he had been wondering this entire time. "How'd you beat up those guys last week?"

"What do you mean?"

"Even if you're some expert fighter, being a small, younger girl against multiple bigger guys- it doesn't make sense," Yoongi questioned. "It's impossible."

"Is that why you asked me to walk with you?"

"No. Not completely. One of the reasons, I suppose. It's been on my mind. All of it- what I remember at least- was unnatural."

You hummed to yourself. "I dunno- dumb luck I guess."

"You didn't use any weapons."

"I don't carry a knife on me if that's what you're wondering."

"You just touched him and he passed out. A seizure."

"You were seeing things. You took a few blows to the head."

"Don't gaslight me!" Yoongi exclaimed, suddenly frustrated. "I know what I saw. I don't know why you're lying to my face."

You were silent for a moment, the two of you stop in your tracks. You studied his face. "Why are you so interested in me? Is it really because of that day?"

"I've been interested in getting to know you for a while now- but that was the catalyst," Yoongi guessed. "I knew something was off. The others may think you're weird, but they think that because of your hair or your family or your clothes. I just thought you wanted to keep to yourself but... I don't know, there seems to be more to you than there is to others. Same thing with your family. Things don't add up. What I saw, your house- everything. I'm not going to blab to others if that's what you're wondering, but I can't deny what I saw."

You pursed your lips. "You really should just forget about me, Yoongi."

"Is it why you don't have any friends?" Yoongi questioned. "I mean, why you stay to yourself all the time, just reading textbooks? Could you be doing everything you do just to keep others away? Most people join clubs or branch out or let people approach them but you're-"

"Different," you interrupted. "So you've said, as cliche as it is."

"I'm not going to judge you," Yoongi promised. "I really do want to be your friend- no funny business. From what I can tell you don't have any, but truthfully that doesn't seem very healthy. If you really want me to leave you alone, just tell me to fuck off. I'll pretend none of this ever happened. However, I think you and I both know that you need at least one good friend in this world. I can't help that I'm drawn to you, wanting to get to know you. So I'd really like it if you'd let me."

After he finished his little speech, there was a pause. He was anxious and tense, waiting for your response. You simply stared at him with those big, blank eyes of yours, and he wondered if you were really going to tell him to fuck off despite his proposal of friendship.

Instead, you sucked in a breath. "I can't believe I'm considering this."

He felt elated, excited, and shocked. "So yes?"

"You won't believe me. Let's go to my place, and I'll explain. You're right- I do owe you an explanation. What you saw was real, and I shouldn't gaslight you or lie to you. You're perhaps one of the only people at school who's decent to me, and as much as I hate to admit it, I do need a friend. If anyone's going to be that friend, it'll be you."

"What do you mean by that?" Yoongi wasn't insulted, only curious.

You turned back to him, lips pressed in a tight line. "You're the only one who's given me a chance. It's only fair I do the same for you."

-

Yoongi took in a deep breath the moment he stepped inside of your house, breathing in the scent. The scent was something similar to when someone opens a new book for the first time, breathing in the freshly made pages.

You departed momentarily, only to return shortly with two vials in hand.

You hand one to him. "I just want you to know, you have no reason to trust me. We're virtually strangers."

"I'm kinda trying to fix that."

"I'm just giving you a heads up that any suspicions you have are understandable. Once we do this, it'll be impossible for you to... I don't want to say back out, or forget. Maybe unsee? It's a point we can't turn from, you and I, and I'm taking a big risk by doing this."

"Well, let's do it already," Yoongi huffed. "Blabber all you want, but I thought we established this already."

You shrug nonchalantly, not taking his impatience to heart. "I just wanted to make sure you didn't have any last minute reservations. Should've figured with a persistent Clyde like you. Very well, then. Link our arms together, and then take it like a shot. It's going to taste bitter, so I've been told."

"Like some sort of circled couple, huh?" Yoongi questions, quirking a brow. "What does this do?"

"It's similar to the wedding thing, yes. What I'll say and show you will seem crazy, though. It'll link our souls together so that no matter how far away we are from each other, we're bonded. It's a soulmate sort of thing, our souls entwined. It means we can't be spiritually separated unless there are desperate means, a painful process, might I add. We'll barely sense the other's intense emotions, but that's about as freaky as that gets. After we drink, I'll tell you what you want to know, and the bond will prevent you from spilling to outsiders."

"Why does it not affect you?" Yoongi is unfazed, trying to keep his cool so that you don't suddenly get cold feet.

"It's my secret- and it does affect me, seeing as I'm going to be bonded to your ass for the rest of eternity," you huff. "You still in?"

"Fuck yeah," Yoongi says crassly, a sideways grin spreading across his face, growing more so once he sees you mimic it. "Let's do this."

Your arms intertwine, and you both tilt your head back, taking a shot of the bitter liquid. You were right, it was bitter. Yoongi felt as though he were taking a cumshot.

After your arms loosen, both of you wag your tongues out, trying to get the bitter taste out of your mouth.

"Dear god, that's disgusting. Remind me never to tell you any secrets that I can't risk getting out," Yoongi spat.

You coughed and sputtered, nodding your head at the statement. Once you both calmed down, your breathing evening, you huff.

Yoongi waits patiently for what you're about to say.

"I'm a witch," you say. "Magical, that is. My entire family is and we live among you all."

Well, that wasn't what he was expecting.

"So, like, the pointy top hat and everything? And a broom?" Yoongi cackled. "Were you seriously just doing all of this to scare me away? Bullshitting me?"

You snap your fingers, and suddenly Yoongi is being sat in a chair, a cushy sofa sliding forward to catch him. You smirk in amusement at his expression, and suddenly furniture begins to move in every which way, books flying off of shelves literally, flapping as though they had wings. Lamps flickered on and off, and the fireplace came to life, quite literally.

"Well well well, we've got a guest! Thought you were the antisocial type, Miss Y/N."

"Yoongi, I'd like you to meet my fireplace, Maximus. Maximus, my new soulmate."

The fireplace roared, flames reaching higher and curling around the cavern of its encampment. "You're not saying-"

"I did."

"Y/N, how could you?"

"Why not?" You huff, staring over at Yoongi's expression. "You can see why I was hesitant, can't you? Don't worry, if you want I can make you forget all of this ever happened. I have an elixir for almost everything in the pantry."

"That doesn't change the fact that your souls are bonded together!" Maximus reminded you, scowling.

"It was the only way to make sure he couldn't possibly blab even if he tried!" you argued. "He was persistent and..."

"And what?" Maximus scowled.

"And maybe I wanted a friend, ok? All the others think of me as some sort of freak, and it's hard having a fireplace as the only thing to talk to," you said quietly. Your eyes widen at your outburst, and you turn to Yoongi. "I'm sorry. I should be focusing on you. I'm sure this is all a shock to you."

Yoongi blinked a bit, slowly processing everything. You were a witch. Magic was real. Your fireplace was alive.

You began to panic, hyperventilating, your breathing heavy and voice shaky. With wide eyes, you begin to tremble, tears rolling down your cheek as your mind got the best of you. "You want to forget everything already, don't you? God, I regret this. I shouldn't have dragged you into this, but I was so selfish and I wanted a friend because I was lonely and God-"

"Y/N, Y/N, shh, calm down," Yoongi said, gently grasping your upper arms, running his hands up and down as though to soothe you. He gives you a warm smile, genuine and comforting, and little by little your breathing began to ease. "It's ok. Cool it. I understand. I don't regret finding out, and I'm more than interested to be your friends, magic and all. It's a bit much to process, but I can tell you upfront that it doesn't change how I feel. No sweat!"

You wipe away at the hot tears that had rolled down your cheeks, cracking a soft smile. "So you're ok with this? Me, being magic? Witches and all this stuff? You don't think it's weird? You still want to be my friend?"

Yoongi laughed at that, feeling elated, as though it were the start of a new beginning. It felt like the first few seconds when you get strapped into a ride, about to begin. "Everyone's varying levels of weird; you just have to find someone who's compatible."

You laugh at that, your tense shoulders beginning to visibly ease.

"So, tell me more about this magic thing."

-

It was the beginning of your budding friendship with Yoongi, and he found himself more enamored and fascinated than he could've believed. It was a whole new world to discover, one hidden beneath everyone's nose.

You and Yoongi had found yourselves in the woods, a frequent place for you and he to have your discussions. You weren't so comfortable with hanging out with him in public just yet, unused to stares and curious glances, people wanting to know more about you beyond the vague facts. Rumors would spread, ones far more tangible than the others, and all would pertain to Yoongi. Relationship? Blackmail? Family? You weren't prepared for the sort of rumors everyone else was usually talking about.

Yoongi didn't mind. He was patient. It was alright if he couldn't take you to the sock hops he frequented. Though, he was curious if you knew how to work a jukebox. He only wanted you to feel more comfortable around him, and if that meant alone, then so be it.

You were reading from a dusty textbook, which Yoongi would soon come to discover was a book of spells. It was in a language he couldn't decipher, though the pictures could show what one was trying to accomplish. It had many things from curses, jinxes, and potions. He supposed he would study rigorously too if it pertained to magic. What was better, learning to hold fire in one's palm, or memorize the digits of pi?

Yoongi's head nestled in your lap, the first time the two of you had even attempted to put some physical intimacy in your relationship. Yoongi had questioned if it was alright, and though you were nervous, you accepted.

So far, what Yoongi had learned about you wasn't beyond comprehension. Your anxiety could run from subtle to severe at times, and you weren't very self-assured. It mainly pertained to the fact that you had no friends, no one to really talk to or engage with regularly. Yoongi wondered if your friendship together would let you grow and become less socially awkward, perhaps letting you get more confidence.

"So how come witches and wizards don't just take over the world? Or come out of hiding? It must be exhausting having to hide your true self on a day to day basis."

"It's easier to stay in hiding so that both races can peacefully coexist. Last time our kind tried to reveal themselves was the Salem Witch Trials, and we know how that went. None of the actual witches were caught, but it did erupt havoc and destroy hundreds of lives. It wouldn't have happened if the witches in question were more careful. Besides, humans have gotten so far with their technology that it would completely detonate or destroy both races, what with their atom bombs and such. It's a lot less goopy to let both coexist, especially considering the fact that we're pretty integrated and many of us control things from behind the scenes. Not everything has to be solved with violence."

"Besides that," you continued, "there's a bit of a stigma about your people. We try to avoid mingling with you at all costs. Wizardkind has some sort of belief that humans are dangerous in their own right, simply spreading hatred and destroying everything in their wake. Besides that, they'd get greedy of the wizards' power, and seek it for themselves. I do agree with that bit to a degree, but I don't think they're as evil as perceived. My parents told me that there's good and bad to everything, which I think is right. You spread hatred, but there's some of you that spread love. I think those few are worth saving the group for."

"Seems like the opposite of the 'one bad apple ruins the bunch' phrase, hm?" Yoongi hummed.

You shrugged. "You're one of the good apples. I wouldn't want to punish you for your group's actions."

"You have a point there, I suppose," Yoongi agreed. Don't judge the group by the person, or the person by the group. "

"A lot of bloodsheds could've been prevented if people listened to those wise words," you muse whimsically.

"So how much is it that you know?"

"The basics, I suppose. And then some. I guess you'd have to specify," you say, playing with the fabric of your skirt. "There are different kinds of magic to specify in, you know. Some specify in potions, others in charms. There's light magic and dark magic, and while neither is necessarily evil, one is far more dangerous than the other. And of course, there are varying degrees of skill and such."

"So what are you best at, per se?" Yoongi inquired. "I see you more so as a jack of all trades, honestly."

You smile softly at that. "I'll take that as a compliment." You mull over it for a moment. "It's true, anyone can learn any particular skill, so long as they've got the magic running through their veins. Each family specializes in something. But there's a kind of talent that goes along with it that's necessary for one to excel. Sort of like how someone can be great at the piano and be only subpar at drawing, no matter how much they practice."

"So what's your talent?"

You press your lips together in a firm line. "I still have yet to really find that out. I'm young, so I've got a long way to go. My family specialized in the dark arts in particular."

Yoongi sits up at that. "You mean your family was of dark wizards?"

"I wouldn't necessarily say that. There is a stigma around wizards like us, but we aren't evil. I mean, they weren't," you correct yourself. "It's more dangerous though and looked down upon. Most wizards don't dare to even venture into it."

"What does it consist of?" Yoongi questioned. "Occult sort of things?"

"Somewhat," you shrug. "It can vary. Curses and hexes, some jinxes. Some of it is darker, though. Like raising people from the dead or speaking to them. There are some spells to make someone go insane, or control them."

"Have your parents taught you any of it? Or do you just know some from the book."

You purse your lips. "I don't really touch that sort of thing. We've got a small shelf in our library of those, but I try to avoid it."

"How come? It's sort of part of your heritage."

"Exactly," you sigh, "I mean... it reminds me of my parents."

Yoongi's face softens at that. "Oh... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

You shake your head, the sorrowful expression on your face being wiped off with a smile. "No, it's fine. I told you I'd answer any questions you have, and I meant it. We're friends, right? Friends tell each other these sorts of things."

Yoongi nods stiffly at that. "Yeah. I just didn't mean to pry."

"It's alright," you assure him. "What about you? We've spent too much time talking about me. I want to know about your family."

"There's not much to know. We aren't nearly as interesting as you guys," Yoongi shrugs. "I've got a younger brother named Yohan, and he's in... what is it, fourth, fifth grade? Yeah. He's nine."

"That's sweet," you smile softly. "I always wanted a younger sibling."

"Don't bother, they're annoying as hell," Yoongi scoffed. "Anyways, my dad has some office job downtown. Involves a lot of paperwork and seems boring as hell. Something to do with a lot of numbers. My mom's the most interesting, being a cancer survivor and all."

Your eyes light up at that. "You're kidding!"

"No, she is. She won't let me forget it, too. Every time I forget to clean my room or complain she uses it against me," Yoongi laughs. "Though I suppose she has the right to."

"I would too, if I were her," you tell him honestly. "I'm glad she's better now, though."

"So am I," Yoongi says. "What about your parents? When they were alive, if you don't mind me asking."

Your expression softens at that, no longer as bright. "They were... odd. I know that sounds weird coming from me. My mom was very stern and strict, having to teach me with discipline. She was a bit judgemental in my opinion, from what I remember, that is. My father was a lot more light-hearted, a bit more on the whimsical side. My father would make sure my mother wasn't always nagging and loosened up, and my mother made sure my father stayed grounded on Earth."

"How did they pass?" Yoongi questions.

"Automobile accident," you tell him. "Flip-top was old and unreliable, and my father was never one for human inventions. It's surprising it didn't happen earlier."

Yoongi's brows furrow. "I'm sure the papers would've reported that. No one else knows they're gone."

You tense up at that but shrug your shoulders. "Probably because they never left the house, anyway. The accident happened in another town anyway, so it wouldn't be reported here. Not that these nuclear families would care."

Yoongi opens his mouth to apologize, afraid that he had offended you, but you cut him off. "I apologize- that was crass," you say quickly. "I know I sound bitter, but it's just because I've been so distant from the rest of you. Regular people... it's discouraged from mingling with them any further than necessary, anything more than just blending in. My parents were adamant on that rule, and I had been sheltered so long that I grew to somewhat resent all of the others. Sure, they weren't exactly outreaching by any means, but I'm sure being aloof wasn't the best option. But I'm learning with you now, and I'm glad to do so."

Yoongi was oddly touched by your words, and he shifts on the grass, sitting closer next to you to bump his shoulder against your own. "I'm glad to be friends with you too," he says, wondering if it were too soon for him to admit that during this budding friendship.

You smiled, beaming at him, and soon his chin was resting on your shoulder as the two of you studied the pages of your textbook together.

-

"So, you've gotten pretty close to Yoongi, huh?"

You had been cornered in the middle of the hallway before your locker, your bright purple dress of the day making you easy to find. You automatically flinch at the sound of the locker slamming shut, Eunwoo's perfectly manicured hand splayed across the surface.

Your lungs felt tight, anxiety running high. You were a very anxious person, truth be told, though you weren't sure how much of that as you or just the fact that you were a preteen. Nevertheless, your heartbeat thundered in your ears, and you yearned for any way out. You were one to buckle under pressure or scamper away, anything to avoid confrontation. This wasn't an exception.

You couldn't say that you didn't see this coming, though. Only a week after befriending and hanging out with Yoongi, and you were being harassed. In a vicious cage known as middle school, popularity was everything, so it made sense that two alpha girls like Eunwoo's and Nayoung were here to put you in your proper place as prey.

Yoongi was one of the quieter guys who didn't seem that popular, yet every girl and guy liked. Sure, he wasn't super outgoing and outstanding, but perhaps it was his broody and casual demeanor- more accurately his looks- that just had prepubescent teens swooning left and right.

Eunwoo and Nayoung, the latter having a thing for him since elementary school since he kissed Seungyeon on the monkey bars, were no exception.

"Yes," you squeaked, hugging your books to your chest tightly. You were suddenly very self-conscious, staring down at your muddy, worn boots, soiled from the rain that morning. Your dress was barely being held together by safety pins, and you looked like you were a five year old attempting to play dress up.

Eunwoo towered over you, glaring down at you as Nayoung supported her at the back. She pokes the center of your chest, jabbing it roughly, as though daring you to meet her eye. You didn't. "What makes you so special, huh? You're just some nerd whose probs a secret Red. Regular commie who won't even make it anywhere in life."

"Why don't you quit the bit. Yoongi shouldn't have dirt like you rubbing onto his name," Nayoung snickered. "You're cruisin' for a bruisin' at this rate. I'd figure someone like you wouldn't be so fast, but I guess it's the only way for you to get anyone to like you. Slut."

You feel tears spring up in your eyes, and you try to choke them down. Your throat is tight, constricting around the lump as you do your best not to bawl. You wish to scream that you're not sleeping with Yoongi, that you just wanted to be a friend, but you had to contain yourself. Whenever your emotions got the best of you, your magic tended to burst out. You struggled already to contain it.

"Why don't you squares leave her alone," someone pipes up. The three of you look up to Yoongi, walking up to you only to sling an arm around your shoulders, tugging you close to his body in a protective manner. "You're just bugging her because you got clutched last Friday- everyone knows. Everyone also thinks that you're not destined to be anything more than paper shakers in the future, so why don't you do yourself a favor and split."

Eunwoo and Nayoung's faces turned bright red, both wishing to say something. True enough, both did split, stomping away. Yoongi turned to you, beaming. His expression morphs into worry, however, and he wipes away some of the tears you didn't realize had slid down your cheeks.

"Hey, don't cry, I've got this. I might not hold up well during a physical fight, but I've gotten pretty good at insulting people. One of the benefits of having a sibling," he chuckled. "You doing ok?"

You nodded, wiping your cheeks with your sleeves. "Yeah. You didn't have to do that, though. I don't want to burden you."

Yoongi scoffed at that. "Nonsense. What're friends for?"

He walked you to your classroom, and you were unable to conceal your smile the entire way. Yoongi was a true friend, through and through, it seemed.

-

"C'mon, I trust you!" Yoongi insisted. "It'll be fine. You need someone to practice on anyway."

"I'm not going to doom my best friend to the life of a toad!" you scowl back, crossing your arms. "It's not even my family's specialty- it isn't in my blood."

"You have yet to even tell me what said specialty is," Yoongi huffed.

The two of you were fourteen now, two years into the friendship. It was the summer before high school, both of you more than ready to move onto the next stage of adolescence. Throughout the two years, you and Yoongi had bonded, becoming attached to the hip practically. Many thought the two of you were going steady, but without a pin to prove it, they remained rumors.

The two of you let them stay rumors, merely enjoying each other's company. Little did they know that you and Yoongi were spending days together practicing spells and such.

Most of the time it was you practicing your spells with him, Yoongi acting as both a guinea pig and support system. Your adolescent anxiety had become a bit less prominent, your confidence slowly building with Yoongi's constant boosts. Other times Yoongi would drag you out dancing, putting in three plays of Elvis Presley's Don't Be Cruel. Yoongi would always laugh and spin you around on these days, making you scream in delight when he'd dip you in surprise. You got to see a side of Yoongi that wasn't stoic and cool, instead releasing a goofball who deeply cared for his loved ones. And in turn, he gave you confidence and moral support.

This was one of the days where Yoongi was pushing your boundaries, encouraging you to do one of the more difficult spells of transfiguration- the act of transforming one thing into another. In this case, he wanted to make you into a toad.

The two of you had already done many things magic-related together. From making potions and singing his eyebrows to extreme levitation spells where Yoongi got stuck on the ceiling for a day, and you had to float pieces of cereal and such up to him while he flew from wall to wall in attempts to get the spell to wear down quicker.

"No! What if I can't turn you back?"

"I believe in you! You just let your anxiety get the best of you sometimes and panic. It doesn't have to be a toad... Make it a cat or something. You like cats, right?"

"Yoongi, you're allergic to cats."

"I doubt I'll be allergic to myself," Yoongi huffed. "Look, remember how when we first started doing this you weren't able to do so much as ignite a flame? Now you're able to do love potions and levitation spells! You've improved so much, and practice makes perfect. I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't believe you could do it."

You frowned, taming your frizzy hair out of nervousness, mulling it over. "I don't know..."

Yoongi, however, could tell you were giving in. You were weak to the knees when it came to him, and he knew it. He let out a triumphant, gummy grin, knowing he was wearing you down. "It's the next chapter of your textbook, we can't just skip. Y/N, imagine how soft my ears will be. You know you'll want to pet me."

You grimaced. "Don't say it like that!"

"You're right, you want to pet me even when I'm in human form," Yoongi joked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Oh my god, I'll do it if you just shut up, pervert!" you exclaimed, your face turning bright red. You put on your goggles, strapping them over your face.

Yoongi had asked you once why you always put them on since they weren't needed. You told him that it was an old habit your father did when he did magic, and the goggles were his last gift to you before your parents' untimely demise.

Neither of you tried to dwell on that, though, knowing the past wasn't the best thing to be stuck in. Especially considering how dark yours tended to be. Yoongi could peel back the layers if he wanted, and though he knew there was more you were possibly hiding, he didn't pry. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to know.

Yoongi laughed heartily at that, watching you with delight. He'd never admit this to you, but he always found you absolutely enchanting when you did magic. Your eyes seemed to glow from within, the tips of your fingers turning gold as it flowed through you. The ends of your hair would float above your hair, flickering like a flame. With a sweep of your arms and uttering of a language that Yoongi failed to comprehend, Yoongi was suddenly thrust with a beam of dark purple.

He felt his limbs and body shrink, his clothes falling around him on the floor, and your small frame got unusually bigger... and bigger... and bigger. It wasn't until he was on all fours and staring up at you that he realized the transformation was complete.

He was a jet black cat.

You, on the other hand, had squeezed your eyes shut when you did the spell, only now opening your eyes to spare a peek at your creation. You immediately let out squeals of awe at the furry creature before you, scooping Cat-Yoongi into your arms and petting him, scratching behind his ears as he purred.

"Aren't you the cutest little thing!" you cooed. "I'm tempted to keep you this way so that I won't have to listen to your yapping anymore."

Cat-Yoongi hissed at that, and you laughed, scratching the bottom of his chin as you put him down. "I'm joking, I'm joking. I'm sure I'd be weird for even witch standards if my best friend was a cat."

"You did well on this one, Miss Y/N," Maximus complimented, his flames flickering. "Though you need to remember to keep your eyes open. You can't flinch and be scared of your own spells- what if you aimed wrong and hit someone else when performing a spell?"

"I won't have to worry about that for a bit. The self-defense and attacking spells aren't for another twenty chapters or so," you say.

"True, but at the rate, you're moving it'll be within only a few months," Maximus responded. "Now, try to keep your eyes open while you transform him back."

"Do I have to?" you pondered, Cat-Yoongi brushing between your legs affectionately. "Wait a minute- you better not be looking under my skirt, you heathen!"

Maximus chuckled, your fireplace finding your accusation amusing. "All the more reason to transform him back."

"Fine," you huffed, stepping back. Cat-Yoongi stood back at the spot he was at previously, cocking his head to the side to peer at you with those big round eyes of his. You gushed inside, knowing all too well you'd be performing this spell later on. You do the steps in reverse, and the moment your encantation leaves your lips the beam hits Yoongi square in the chest, and he's transformed back into his human form.

Naked.

"Gah! Put some clothes on!" You yank your goggles back over your head, covering your eyes as you turn to give him privacy.

"Don't look! Don't look!" Yoongi cried, hastily putting on his clothes in embarrassment.

Your fireplace only cackled wickedly at the scene that played out before him, the two of you embarrassed beyond belief.

-

You're fifteen when you tell Yoongi that you love him.

You didn't know why you did it. The two of you had been best friends for about three years now- things were going good.

Why'd you screw it up like this?

The truth was that you had a crush on Yoongi. A big fat crush that seemed to loom over you whenever you were in his presence. You had these feelings since forever, it seemed. You always thought he was cute- one of the reasons you went out of your way to save him when he was being taunted by bullies. Well, that and the goodness of your heart, you supposed.

Figures that it's the guy you were most attracted to in your prepubescent phase that you end up befriending.

So when the two of you became friends, you worked to suppress the feelings. He was your only friend- you didn't want to screw it up as you did everything else. Besides, boys were gross, you knew that. You were only distracted by his looks, and once you got to know all the disgusting details that came with friendship, surely the feelings would die down.

Right?

And yes, you learned many disgusting details. Yoongi was an idiot in many things, as it turned out. He'd leave his underwear around on the floor and give his little brother wet willies whenever he'd bug the two of you about dating, singing that kissing song until Yoongi popped his finger in his ear.

But despite the repulsive side to your best friend, you fell more. He was charming when he was allowed to be, soft and shy at times, but always honest and blunt. He saw things for more than what they appeared to be, despite what everyone else thought.

No matter, you thought. The two of you were going through puberty- no doubt he'd get ugly. You'd stay best friends with him of course, but surely your feelings for him were shallow and purely based on appearance. He'd become greasy-faced and lanky, being too tall and too shiny.

But no- God had decided to torture you. Instead of puberty hitting him like a bus, Yoongi eased into a handsome state. His jawline became sharper, shoulders became broader, and he sprouted like a weed, though not too tall for you to barely be able to make out his face in the clouds. He seemed to suit the present trends, wearing leather jackets and finally doing his hair instead of the mussed updo he adorned. You looked back on the photos of the two of you on your mantelpiece, wondering how you possibly found that little barnacle attractive when you were a preteen, at least in comparison to how he looked now.

You had to face the facts: you were undeniably, irrevocably, and totally in love with your best friend Min Yoongi.

Yet here you were, years of keeping your feelings at bay, only to blurt them out suddenly.

The two of you were watching an I Love Lucy rerun at his house since your own lacked a television. His family was asleep, and you spent so much time at each other's houses that none of them suspected much. If you two were to date, wouldn't you have done it already?

You were both planning a sleepover for the night. The grease was out of Yoongi's hair, and the two of you were wearing the matching cat pajamas you had bought shortly after the cat incident- a spell you'd use frequently. He knew it was the easiest way for you to cheer up when you were having a bad day, and there was nothing better than having Cat-Yoongi purring in your lap, sleeping as your sorrows melted away.

You and Yoongi were laughing at the part where Lucy got drunk on national television. He was shaking, his eyes squinting and gummy smile showing. You admired his happy look, noticing how he positively glowed in the light of the twelve-inch screen.

Which brought you to this moment.

"I love you."

Yoongi froze, looking up at you. "What?"

Your face flushed, and you were suddenly very self-conscious of the angel. He could probably see your double chin from this angle. You scoot away, letting his head fall to the cushions as you stammer to correct yourself. "A-As a best friend of course. Not anything weird l-like being in love with you or anything."

"Oh... right."

"I-I don't know why I said that. I made you uncomfortable, I'm sure. I blurted it out without thinking what it sounded like, and I'm really so-"

"I love you, too."

You freeze at that, looking up at him. His eyes have met yours, and he was sitting up now. There was a silence between the two of you, only filled with the noise from the TV.

"What?" you say, your voice a hushed whisper.

"I love you, too," he repeats, just as clear as before.

You light up, but your heart sinks again. He meant as a friend, of course. It was only to make you feel better.

"Do you mean that?" you question, voice soft.

"Of course I do. What would I do without you?" He slings an arm over your shoulders and hugs you to his body, pressing a kiss to your temple. "We're friends, after all."

Your heart sinks into your stomach, but your nerves have eased along with the embarrassment. You instead melt into his embrace, trying to seem happy still. "Yeah, best friends."

-

The two of you are sixteen when the prospect of a relationship finally comes up.

Yoongi had thought about it from time to time, of course. The two of you were in your sophomore year of high school, and while the two of you had grown a bit from your prepubescent ways, you were both close.

Yoongi ventured more to the greaser side, adorning leather jackets and checking out sock hops regularly. His new rag top was swinging, the car souped up due to some of your fancy spells. The cherry red color did well to attract girls to bring to the passion pit, the two of them usually necking and doing the ol' back seat bingo at the drive-in movies.

You, on the other hand, had become a bit more approachable. A bigger school meant bigger crowds, some more accepting at that. Perhaps it helped when Yoongi got you new threads before the start of high school, the two of you spending nights together sewing and forming clothes that'd fit you properly. You still wore your oversized goggles and boots, but with your favorite well-fitting pale, candle-like yellow dress that made your skin glow and the curves you developed, you were becoming a babe yourself. Gone was the naive girl who wouldn't look up from her own feet, but rather a developing woman who was becoming confident in her own abilities.

You and Yoongi were still well known best friends, despite being on the opposite sides. However, you had your own identities now. You were no longer known as the girl who hung at Yoongi's side, and he wasn't known as the one who took pity on the freak.

You were becoming yourselves.

However, neither of you were quite ready to admit your true feelings for one another- until a certain date came along.

Yoongi was hanging with the guys, helping them fix up their cars. All of them thought he was some sort of mechanical genius, but little did they know that there wasn't anything that your magic could do. That with melted butterfly wings and evaporated poison ivy (one of the smelliest potions Yoongi would come to find out).

He was helping Hoseok with his cruiser at the moment, Taehyung and Jimin out getting some food while the two of them worked on the rocket at hand. Hoseok's engine appeared to be having difficulty, and Yoongi could only do his best with what little information he actually did know. Couldn't risk his reputation, after all.

"Hey, Yoongs, I was sort of wanting to talk to you about something. It involves Y/N."

Yoongi froze, tense beneath the car. He scooted out, wiping some of the grease on his hands onto his white shirt. He had to stay composed. Worst case scenario, Hoseok had discovered what you actually were. Even that wouldn't be so bad, though. Out of all the hot rods that Yoongi hung out with, Hoseok seemed to be the least judgmental of you. Even back in the day, when you were an awkward preteen mess, Hoseok never spoke ill of you the way Taehyung or Jimin did, the teases.

"What about her?"

"Well, you two are friends right?" Hoseok appeared to be a bit cautious with his wording, as though afraid he'd set Yoongi off.

Yoongi only wore a blank expression. "Yeah, I'd say so. Best friends in fact."

"Yeah... So, are you like, anything more with her?" Hoseok wondered.

Yoongi' s heart stopped once he realized what Hoseok was trying to say. "You like Y/N?"

"Well, I mean yeah. I'm not, like, crazy for her or anything. I just think she's cute, y'know?" Hoseok explained. "But I wanted to ask you first because I wasn't sure whether or not you pinned her or anything. It wouldn't be cool to go after another guy's girl."

"Y/N isn't my girl," Yoongi clarified.

"So you'd be cool with me asking her out this weekend?" Hoseok asked, brightening up.

Yoongi gritted his teeth, anger swelling in his chest. "Yeah, sure dude. Whatever. Just don't fake out or anything. I don't want you to hurt her."

"You guys are close, huh?" Hoseok chuckled. "Didn't you call her your soulmate or something once?"

"Platonically speaking, I guess," Yoongi murmured. "We just get each other."

"I figured. You two were close since, what, middle school? I didn't think much of her back then, admittedly, but you did. It's like one day the two of you were strangers and the next you were all goo goo eyes. I thought you were whipped- hell, we all did. Thought you had her jacketed and everything. We were wrong, obviously, but even I have to admit she's a regular babe now."

"So you like her because she's attractive now?" Yoongi could hear the underlying malice in his tone, but he couldn't take it back even if he tried.

Hoseok put his hands up in false surrender. "Woah, dude, I didn't mean to offend you or anything. Don't get me wrong, she's nice and all as well. It's kinda hard to talk to her though. She's shy around everyone else but you, y'know. I wouldn't mind getting to know her well. Besides, if she really wanted someone who was there just for her personality, you two would've hit it off by now."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Sorry for snapping." What was wrong with him today? Something about you and Hoseok together seemed off to him. He didn't like the sound of it.

Hoseok clapped him on the back, grinning brightly. "Don't worry, Yoongs. Maybe we can double date someday or something. Didn't you lay one on Roa just two weeks ago? From what I heard she's dying to again. We could all see some flick together or something."

"I don't know, maybe. I'll think about it," Yoongi grumbled bitterly.

He was a mess.

-

You paced before Maximus, the fireplace crackling with each step you took. You fidgeted with your dress, smoothing wrinkles, playing with the hem.

"I don't understand why you're being so nervous. It's just a date," Maximus said. "Didn't you say Hoseok as a nice guy?"

"I know, I know. He is! I just..." You didn't know how to end the sentence.

"You wish it was Yoongi?"

"God, I'm pathetic, aren't I?" you whine, burying your face in your hands. "Here I am, pining over my best friend, all while some other guy is on his way to pick me up. I'd figure I'd be over it within four years."

"That's love, dear," Maximus hummed. "Some boys are just a bit more hesitant than others."

"Maybe this date is for the best," you pondered aloud. "It could help me move on, y'know? Friends shouldn't see each other as more than friends. It ruins the means of friendship and is irreversible."

"Do you really want to get over him, though?"

"I don't know!" you wail, throwing your hands up in the air. "I told Yoongi about the date, and he just said 'Congrats'. What does that mean?"

"Congratulations, I assume."

You bit your lip nervously. "Maybe I should call Hoseok and cancel the date. This is a bad idea-"

It was at that moment that your doorbell rang, and you jumped up, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Aren't you going to answer it?" Maximus questioned.

"Oh, right. Wish me luck," you said, grabbing your purse before heading to the door. You weren't sure if it was butterflies or dread filling your stomach.

-

You and Hoseok were at the sock hop, the two of you spinning around each other, your dress swishing around your legs. You weren't the best dancer, admittedly, but you came to find out that Hoseok could more than makeup for it. One moment you were grasping onto his leather jacket, stiff as a board, and the next moment your legs were in the air and your hands in his greased hair, doing your best to keep up with the music that was blaring throughout.

"See? You're not that bad!" Hoseok grinned, hands clasped in yours as you twisted your hips from side to side.

"Easy for you to say! You're barely breaking a sweat. I feel like I'll collapse any second!" you wheeze, earning a hearty laugh from Hoseok.

You expected to be awkward and stiff with Hoseok. Sure, you were less socially inept now than you were back in the day, but typically you were more on the introvert side with anyone other than Yoongi. Hoseok' s extroversion, however, seemed to draw out your looser side, one that you kept with Yoongi more often than not. Hoseok was the exact opposite of you in every way, yet you didn't seem to mind. Before long you actually began to enjoy yourself.

"You're fine," Hoseok laughed, giving you a twirl as you spun back into his arms. "You're a natural, trust me."

"You try it in heels," you huff, rolling your eyes.

"Alright, alright. Let's go out for a drive then, Granny, since you're so beat," he said jokingly.

"Oh thank God!" You fell into his arms in mock exasperation, and before long he was taking you in his cruiser. You were sipping on a milkshake, your hair blowing in the wind until the two of you stopped at the destination. It was a small ledge overlooking a lake, the moonlight shining above it.

"Are we in Lovers Lane?" you questioned, looking around at the other cars, all with other teenagers making out.

"Er- Yeah. I hope you don't mind," Hoseok said sheepishly.

"No, it's cool. I guess it's to be expected for a date," you nodded, trying to remain calm despite the fact that your heart was thundering in your chest. You didn't feel threatened by Hoseok. After all, you could whip out a smell that would do anything from fill his mouth with maggots to make him fall in love with a nearby tree. Then why were you so nervous?

Hoseok yawned, stretching his arms over his head to casually wrap one around your shoulders. He wiggled his brows at you, the two of you sharing a grin. "Smooth," you say, chuckling.

"Can I... Can I kiss you?" Hoseok questioned. "It's alright if you say no, I understand."

"Um... Sure."

You weren't sure what you expected. Maybe you thought he'd shove his tongue down your throat and start groping you. That's what you braced yourself for, at least.

He was surprisingly gentle, his lips pressing against yours with hesitancy, moving to give you time to get used to it. He moved in a way that told you he had the experience, the small breaks in between making out short lived. It wasn't long until you kissed him back, squeezing your eyes shut as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth.

One of his hands came up to grope your chest, and you didn't hate the sensation. Despite Hoseok's body on yours, however, you could only think of someone else.

You broke free, taking a deep breath. "I can't."

Hoseok stopped, stilling for a moment before returning to his seat, respecting your boundaries. "Did I do something?"

"No, you've done nothing. You've been perfect- an absolute gentleman. I really enjoyed my time with you, trust me. It's just that I..."

There was a pause between the two of you, silence hanging in the air.

"You love Yoongi," Hoseok finished for you.

You took in a deep breath. "Yeah," you admitted quietly.

Hoseok was silent for a moment. "I understand. You don't have to feel bad or anything. It's not your fault, y'know? Feelings are feelings. They aren't something you can really control. You can control reactions but not feelings, at least that's what I understand."

"I'm sorry if I led you on," you apologized. "If it were any other time, I could see myself falling for you."

"How come you agreed to the date then?" He didn't seem angry, just curious.

You sighed. "I don't know. Maybe to get over him? Unrequited love is still love... It makes you do crazy things."

There were a few more seconds of silence before Hoseok started abruptly laughing. Tears were in his eyes, and he clutched his stomach. You fumed, looking to him. "What's so funny?"

"You're just so oblivious! Both of you!" Hoseok exclaimed. "Yoongi likes you, too. He's crazy about you. He looked like he wanted to kill me when I asked him if it was OK to ask you out. I just figured if he wouldn't make a move then I would- but this? This takes the cake!"

You froze at that, frosted but confused. "Yoongi likes me?"

"That's an understatement."

You blinked in surprise. "I... I had no clue. I thought I was just a friend to him."

"Don't worry, I'm sure he had the same doubts about your feelings towards him. I won't tell him, but I suggest you do," Hoseok smiled, his face warm. "After all, the night's still young, and so are we. Time is the one thing that you can't get back."

You smiled, giving him a peck on the cheek. "Thank you, Hoseok."

"Thanks for letting me cup a feel."

-

The last thing Yoongi had expected for you to do after your date was climb through his window.

He had been beating himself up all day for letting Hoseok ask you out, imagining the two of you doing god knows what. Why was he such a coward?

Yoongi liked you, yes, but his ego was too sensitive to handle the possibility of rejection. Especially at the prospect of losing his best friend.

He still thinks back on the day you told him you loved him. He had been so elated, your confession sounding so real until you corrected to yourself. You loved him as a friend. That's all he'd ever be to you.

So he kept it at that.

Still, it was surprising when you, a girl once so filled with anxiety she made him her soulmate to ensure he'd be silent about her secret, was the one who finally spoke up about the romantic tension between the two.

"Yoongi?"

The hoarse whisper woke him, and he rolled over, seeing you sitting on the windowsill, your finger lit like a candle to show a light. Your face was barely illuminated, and you stared at him through the dark.

The two of you had snuck in through each other's windows before. It was riskier for Yoongi, though, since he had parents and a little brother. It was easier for you because you could use levitation instead of climbing up vines similar to the ones that grow along the side of your house.

"Hey," he whispered back, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, trying to wake himself from his slumber-deprived state. "What's up? How was your... date with Hoseok."

"It was fine, I guess. I had a good time. It's over now," you said quietly.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping then? I'm sure he wore you out," Yoongi grumbled, trying to contain the bitterness in his voice.

Oddly enough, you revealed a small smile. "Sorry I just... I couldn't sleep."

"Wanna sleep next to me then?" Another common occurrence between you two.

"I can't. I mean, wait... No. It's not that," you said, sucking in a breath as you tried to find the right words. "I want to talk to you."

"Oh." Yoongi was fully awake now. "About what?"

"Us."

The word hung in the air for a moment, perspiring between the two of you as he soaked it in.

You were the first to break the silence. "Yoongi, I've been thinking about this for a long time. Four years, to be exact. You're my best friend, through and through, and our souls are bonded and such. But I know this doesn't have anything to do with that... What I feel for you isn't caused by any spell or potion or whatnot. I know I'm rambling but my point is that I can't see you as just a friend- or even a best friend for that matter. I've always seen you as more."

"I... I didn't know that." God, Yoongi was stupid. He had received confessions before, but something made his lungs squeeze with yours.

"I tried to go out with Hoseok. I tried to place my feelings for you onto him- yet when he kissed me I could only see you. I realized then that these feelings won't just fade. But what am I supposed to do then? Just... wait?

"You're going to leave for college in two years, and I'm going to leave for official witching school and whatnot around the same time. Our souls will be bonded, but even I know we only have a limited amount of time left before we'll have to separate- temporary or permanent. And I got to thinking why we never tried anything..." You let in a deep breath, as though trying to calm yourself. "I feel like a kid again, but I've been having thoughts of why we never even tried or discussed it. Stuff like you thinking I was ugly or weird and such and such... Long story short... Why haven't we tried... us?"

Yoongi thought about it for a moment and answered as honestly as he could. "I guess because I was scared."

"Scared?" you repeated, furrowing your brows. "Of me? Because I'm a witch?"

"No, not that," Yoongi clarified, slipping out of bed to step towards the window in front of you. He runs his hands through his messed up hair, a move that has your heart skip a beat. "Of us. You're my best friend, Y/N. You're my soulmate, literally. But what if you didn't like me back? What if we tried and it didn't work out? I didn't want to ruin everything we had built up. As you stated we only have two years left really, and then it's long distance. We'll still be bound, but how would that be if things were broken between us?"

"Yeah, you're right with those concerns," you nodded. "So... You've thought about it? Us being more than friends?"

"A lot," Yoongi admits. "More than I'd care to admit."

You chuckle a bit at that. "Me too."

You're silent for a few more moments before Yoongi speaks up. "So... we like each other or at least clarified it. Now what?"

You shrug at that. "That's up to us, I suppose. We can leave things as we are or... we can take a chance."

Your eyes meet, and Yoongi swallows hard. "Do you want to?"

"I really do. I don't think I've wanted anything more," you whisper quietly. "And you?"

"Same," he says softly. "I've wanted it for a long time."

He hadn't realized it, but the two of you had been moving closer and closer together, leaning in until your lips were mere centimeters apart. He could feel your soft breath, uneven.

Your unmatched hand reached for his own, shakily linking your fingers with his. "Yoongi?" you whisper, your voice faint as you stare into his eyes.

"Yeah?"

"I'm scared."

"Me too."

Your lips attach at that point, softly brushing up against each other before slotting into place, feathery light and gentle. Yoongi cups your face, fingers threading through your hair as he gives in. The light is out, the two of you kissing in the dark, the moonlight acting as your sole witness.

You pull back, your eyes glistening with tears, tiny droplets caught in your lashes. Yoongi gives you an expression of worry. "Was that ok? Did I go too far?"

"No, I just," you wipe away the tear, giving a shaky smile. "I'm just really happy to be here with you right now, y'know? I'm so, so happy."

"So you have to go crying on me?" Yoongi teases, earning a playful slap to the chest from you.

"Shut up and kiss me again, idiot."

-

You and Yoongi settled into the diner, both of you holding onto the laminated menu's. Despite his now tough reputation, Yoongi felt as though he was a preteen again. Why was he so nervous? The two of you had been dating for a while now and had been best friends for even longer. There was no reason for him to have a cow over this.

"Are you ok, Yoongi?" you questioned, your expression soft.

"What? Yes, I'm perfectly fine. Why do you ask?" he questioned, trying to compose himself to avoid worrying you.

"You seem to have something on your mind, I suppose," you mumble. "We don't have to go out, you know. It's alright to just hang out. I know you're going through a rough time, with your Mom's cancer and all."

That's right. Two weeks ago the doctor told them that his mother's cancer had resurfaced- a devastating blow for all of them. Truthfully Yoongi was struggling to hold himself together through all of it. The guys would lose their shit if they knew Yoongi bawled like a baby in your arms, but all that went through Yoongi's mind was the last time they had to give treatment to his mother. She had gone through so much pain, becoming frail and weak. The entire family suffered.

Yoongi shook the memory away, instead offering a smile. "No, that's not what I'm thinking about. Well, I mean I am, but I'm thinking about something else as well."

"Oh, well talk to me then. Anything to help," you offered.

You really had been there for him through this. From a shoulder to cry on to a potion here and there to help with sleep. You were a godsend.

"Well, I was imagining this in a more romantic way, I suppose. Let's wait until the waiter comes."

You nodded, the waiter soon coming along to get your order. It was after the waiter dropped off the cherry cokes and cheeseburgers that you stared at Yoongi expectantly. "So? What is it?"

Yoongi sucked in a harsh breath. It didn't matter how much grease he had in his hair, how fast his car was, or how many leather jackets he wore- he was weak to the knees when it came to you.

He dug out a small pin from his pocket. "I figured since we were going steady, I'd finally get around to giving you this."

Your eyes widened with delight. "Your class pin?"

It was a big step in your relationship, that was for sure. Branded you as his in a sense, showed you were going steady. Official and all that jazz, so to speak. Yoongi nodded, and you squealed, leaning over the table to let him place the pin over your left breast, right above your heart.

You smiled warmly, giving him a peck on the lips before settling in your seat. You reached forward, placing his hands in your own. Yoongi's face went red, and his eyes did an automatic scan, making sure no one he knew was around to witness. He only got this soft for you.

"No matter what, we'll go through this together, ok? I'm here for you no matter what," you told him, your tone sincere.

"No matter what," he agreed wholeheartedly.

-

The two of you are 18 when you get your letters from college.

Dear Y/N, of the Mortem clan,

You are cordially invited to Magia, Academy for Witches and Wizards,

Your semester will start next fall. As it is a boarding institution, housing and food will be provided. We expect you to bring clothing and other necessities that you'll need for your studies. We've devised your schedule based on your skill set and heritage. Below will be the courses for the semester.

Intro to Familiars Advanced Potions Advanced Necromancy Standard Defense Spells Standard Charms Intro to Astronomy and Fortune Telling

We look forward to seeing you in the new school year.

Sincerely, Magia, Academy for Witches and Wizards

Yoongi stared down at the letter, analyzing it. He cleared his throat. "So, you're going, huh?"

"It's more or less mandatory. You're accepted if you've got magical abilities, regardless of whether or not you applied. They were always going to keep an eye on me because of my clan, anyway."

"Mortem? That's not your last name."

"Yes, but it's my bloodline. I've mentioned before how each family focuses on a single specialty- and that's the family I come from."

"What about familiars and necromancy? We've never practiced those."

"Familiars are usually something you dive into once you're of age. Difficult to handle one when you're only a teen. It's essentially a companion- a creature or animal that is by your side to help you with magic. You're spiritually linked, similar to how you and I are."

"And the necromancy?"

"Something I'll supposedly excel at, I suppose. The board of the academy typically knows more than I do," you shrug. "Now let me see yours."

It wasn't anything special, really. Just a letter to let Yoongi know he was accepted at the nearby college. Nevertheless, he handed you the letter, letting you analyze it. He tried to imagine you going to a normal college, learning normal topics. Perhaps the two of you would share a dorm together. Perhaps not. No matter how hard he tried to picture it, he knew you wouldn't be at place in the human setting.

"I'm really proud of you, Yoongi. It's a really good college- plus you'll be close to your mom. You worked hard for this. I didn't have to work for mine, but you really put yourself into this," you say, handing back the letter. "I know you'll do great things."

"Don't talk as though we'll be separated. I'm not sure if they'll let me visit witching school or whatever, but I'm sure you'll be able to drop by once in a while. Though  mine isn't nearly as impressive, I'm sure."

"We're bonded- we couldn't really even separate even if we tried," you hum softly.

Yoongi's quiet for a moment. He knew what you said was true, but the thought of you two being thousands of miles apart filled him with a sensation of melancholy. "Promise you'll send a letter every day? Or call?"

"I'll be sure to send a link through Maximus- he'll be coming with me. Not sure if you know but he's transportable, and the good thing about fire demons is they can help you communicate even through regular fire. I wouldn't recommend calling through your fireplace, but I'll give you a list of instructions to call me through a candle or something."

"God, just when I think that I've started to know a thing or two about magic, you surprise me with something else," Yoongi laughs.

The laughter dies, and your thoughts are tangible, hanging in the air.

"Well, we'll have to make the most of our summer," you note softly. "We'll stay in contact and all, but I know it won't be the same."

"You're not thinking about breaking up, are you?" Yoongi questions.

"No. But I'd understand if you'd want to. We're young- we're going to meet new people. You're very good with people and lord knows girls can't resist your type. I trust you, but I'd understand if you'd want something a bit more present. There's a lot I still won't be able to provide for you from miles away, and I'd understand. I'd love you no matter what and I'd wait for you," you tell him.

"No way. I don't want anyone other than you, and you should know that. We can make it work," he argues.

You shrug dully. "I know. I just... I don't want to hold you back, y'know? From a normal life just because you're with me. That kind of lifestyle isn't really obtainable with me, with how different we are."

"If I wanted normal I wouldn't have pestered you years ago, Y/N, you know that. Besides, if anything I'd think I'm holding you back from your true potential as a witch."

"That's a lie and you know it," you smile. "You've brought me out of my shell and much more. None of it would've been attainable without you."

"Well you bring out the potential in me, too," he replies.

"You're young, Yoongi. We're 18- do you really know what you want? Our whole lives are ahead of us- jobs, relationships, everything. Are we really ready for that commitment? To make those big decisions?" You think for a moment, sullen at the prospect of a life you don't want. "I don't want to be something you regret."

"Hey, look at me," Yoongi says, holding your hands in his and squeezing tightly. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, you know that? Who cares if we're young. We've got our whole lives ahead of us, sure, but I don't want to go through it without you."

"Are you sure about that, Yoongi? Forever's a long time. You might feel differently once I'm away," you tell him.

"I'll prove it. We can get married- right now! Go to a chapel and elope before the school year starts."

You laugh outright at that- a hearty, true one. "Now we're definitely too young for that."

"How so? My mom was pregnant with me when we were her age."

"Are you telling me you plan to knock me up, Yoongs?"

"Eventually, yeah. Maybe once we're older, though," he says

You smile, stroking his cheek before kissing him tenderly. "I'm going to miss you, you big idiot," you tell him, pressing your forehead against his.

"You're not gone yet," he reminds you, combing his fingers through your hair. "We've got all summer, baby, and then some."

"Let's make the most of it."

-

The two of you were watching the new release of Romeo and Juliet at a drive-in theater, the two of you sitting in the backseat of Yoongi's cruiser, his arm slung over your shoulders as he pulled you close to him. The summer air had cooled a few degrees along with the night, the screen illuminating along with the moon.

"Y'know, I never liked this play. Kill me, I mean it's still his best, but like... Weren't they kids? They were pulling some Lolita shit back then, too," Yoongi notes, his eyes on the screen. All you could do was giggle in response.

You loved these kinds of dates with Yoongi. It was the first date he took you on, now that you recall. The two of you were watching a reshowing of The Sound of Music, a movie Yoongi would later tell you he could barely tolerate despite Julie Andrews' brilliant performance.

Now that you think about it, a drive-in movie was also the first time the two of you had begun to get physical. You could recall the moment as if it were yesterday- the two of you watching some new Disney film as he fingered you in the car.

You felt heat pool in your stomach, and your thighs press together. You turn to him, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck affectionately before giving small sucks and nibbles. It was always your tell, as you both knew it riled him up.

Yoongi sucked in a harsh breath. "Baby, can't we wait until after the movie?"

"But Daddy..."

Yoongi tensed.

That was it- the golden word. There was a fine line between Yoongi and Daddy, and it was whenever you said the magic word that the beast would be unleashed. You still remember how you had teased him, on a night before you two had even started dating. You both snuck his dad's beer and went onto the rooftop, drinking about what it'd be like once the two of you were older. Somehow the topic got to kinks, a taboo subject for your time. Hell, people weren't even supposed to say the word pregnant on TV! And yet the two of you whispered and giggled, and he confessed in a drunken state that he always had a thing for the term, something he had learned from one of his male friends.

After delving into your sex life together, you found out you liked it too.

"You sure you want to do this right here, baby? Where anyone can see?"

"I'll be quiet," you promise, flicking your tongue over the curve of his jaw. "I want you."

"I've got such an insatiable slut, don't I?" he questions, his voice a low rasp as he soon pins you down in the back seat. You suck in your breath, the two of you diving out of view from other movie goers. Still, if they were to walk over and see what was going on in the convertible, you two would be dead.

All worries pass, however, as Yoongi hitches your shirt up over your bra, revealing your underwear beneath the layers of fabric. He's quick to stuff your bra over your tits, letting them spill out, your panties landing on the car floor shortly after. Still, your dress remained on, quick to put down in case someone were to see what was happening.

Yoongi presses his lips against yours, his long fingers traveling down your body. You mewl as the digits slide up your folds, toying with your clit in a way that had your legs quiver on either side fo him. He played with you for a bit, swallowing any delicious moans that dared to escape your lips, before plunging a finger inside.

"So wet already, huh?" He chuckles, adding another without hesitation. "But we've got to be quick, babe. Can't let anyone else see what's mine, isn't that right? You know what that means."

You nod, your eyes wide with anticipation. "Please eat my ass, Daddy."

"How can I say no to that?" He smirks, spreading your legs wide to bury his face between your thighs. Upon closer inspection, he notices that some of your arousal had started to spill down your cheeks, adding as an extra bit of lube for his upcoming meal. "My messy little girl. You're gonna make a mess of the car, aren't you?"

You aren't even able to pathetically whine once his tongue is lapping over the puckered hole, collecting the juices that had dribbled down. He let it lay on his tongue, not swallowing a single drop before the pink muscles started to work around the rim, slowly entering the puckered hole.

The easiest way to get you wet was for him to eat your ass- nothing turned you on more. Perhaps it was because of how good it surprisingly felt, the lewdness of it all, or just the fact that Yoongi was doing it. Nevertheless, you shudder as a result, gushing for him so that more arousal landed on his awaiting tongue.

By the time he was done his face was drenched, from the tip of his nose being buried in your cunt to the bottom of his chin. He was a delectable sight, and you welcomed him with open arms as he smashed his lips against yours. You buried your hands through the gelled up locks, gripping onto the leather sleeves as he undoes his belt.

You feel the blunt head of his cock running along your folds, and you buck your hips up eagerly to meet his. He pushes inside, finding it an easy, though snug fit. The two of you moan, though his hand clasps over your mouth to silence you.

"Shh, pretty girl. You're gonna have to be real quiet for Daddy, ok? I'm gonna fuck you nice and hard, just like you wanted, but you can't make a single peep."

You nod dumbly, his palm still on your lips as he begins to rock into you. Your eyes roll at the delicious feeling, his pelvic bone pressing against you in just the right way. It doesn't take long for him to find his rhythm, and a few seconds more and he finds your sweet spot, hitting it again and again once he knows he found it.

"You're such a -mmf- good fu-fucking girl for Daddy, aren't you?" He grunts with each thrust, feeling the way your nails rake into his arms even throguh the leather. "My good little witch, huh?"

Your pussy clenches around him like a vice, sucking him back in as your hips rock back against his. You're sure by now people can notice the car rocking back and forth along with his thrusts, seeing how much force and vigor he's putting into it. You don't care though, the upcoming bliss threatening to push you over the edge.

"Are you close for Daddy already?" he questions, his voice a low rasp. "Are you gonna come all over this cock? Cream on my dick and get me nice and wet?"

Your eyes roll back once he places the hand that was on your mouth instead along the column of your throat, lightly squeezing. Your impending high comes over you as he pulls out, his hand repeatedly slapping against your quivering cunt as juices started to spray over him, ruining his pants and the car seats along with it. Yoongi didn't seem to care much, though. It wasn't the first time you squirted all over the nice seats- but there were helpful spells for that.

"Fuck, that's it, soak me, baby. Look what a mess my nasty little girl made for her Daddy," he cooes.

You ride the high, your breath uneven as you feel the bliss slowly die down, a comfortable, post-orgasmic buzz still looming through you.

"You alright, Y/N? You came pretty hard," Yoongi cooes, his dominant persona halting in place of your considerate boyfriend.

You still see the straining erection, though, glistening in the moonlight with your juices.

You beckon him closer, curling your fingers in mid-air similar to how he was inside of you. "You didn't get to cum."

"It's alright, baby. You don't have to-"

"No, I want to. Come up here and fuck my face."

God, how could he say no to that face? Without further hesitation or protest, he climbs up your body, straddling your face. Your hands come up to his ass, sitting him down as you return the favor, your tongue lapping over the pink rim and scrotum as he holds his cock up, stroking the shaft so that it didn't land on your forehead.

Once you're done eating his ass, you suck at his balls, knowing that's what really got him going. He let out a guttural moan, still hunched over you so that no one else would see.

"Fuck, Daddy's got a big load for you, baby. Think it's time I fuck that pretty mouth of yours." He scoots down some, placing his dick in your mouth as you relax your throat, signaling for him to begin.

He bucks into your mouth, his hips pointed down as he hovers over your face, listening closely to the sounds of you sucking him into your throat to take all of him. His pelvis lightly tapped the tip of your nose as he sunk down as far as he could, careful not to injure you in the process. You closed your eyes shut, focused on the sensation from his dick deep in your throat to the fine hair that brushed against your face.

"Fuck fuck fuck, I'm gonna cum."

Yoongi doesn't take long, and it's just when you feel your lungs about to collapse that he spills his load, the bitter liquid spilling down the column of your throat.

He climbs off of you as you swallow his cum, sucking in greedy breaths as he readjusts your clothing to its proper place.

"Are you ok? I think I was a bit too rough," he says, brushing the side of your cheek to examine the mascara that was smudged around your eyes.

"I'm alright," you laugh, your voice having a twinge of a rasp. You can't help but smile at his concern, but the moment is quickly ruined when you hear your names being called.

"Shit," Yoongi says, fixing you up one last time before making sure he's decent.

You're surprised to see his little brother, Yohan, run up to the car, screaming Yoongi's name at the top of his lungs, drawing attention to you.

"What do you want, ankle-biter?" Yoongi says, clearly annoyed that his 15-year-old brother was here when you two were supposed to be on a date. "Aren't you supposed to be-"

"Mom is dead."

Yoongi freezes, his eyes as wide as saucers as he stares at Yohan in disbelief.

"What?"

-

Yoongi cried on your shoulder the entire time during the funeral. Unlike his brother, still very concerned with the image of masculinity and strength, refusing to shed a single tear no matter how many welled up in his eyes, Yoongi sobbed. His body shook as he stared hopelessly at the casket, letting you hold him in your arms. He was so faded, a mere husk.

He couldn't so much as let out a single smile, still coping with his mother's death. He let his precious jackets gather dust and his hair had gotten drab without the products he usually had. His friends had given him the space he needed, though would occasionally drop by to check on him. They knew that just a few weeks, however, wouldn't be enough for their friend to move on.

The woman who raised him was gone forever. He believed he'd never see her again. He thought to his younger brother, who his mother would never teach to drive, who would never get the special birthday cake once he finally turned sixteen. Yoongi still remembered how embarrassed he was when his mother insisted on celebrating the event, even calling upon you to help her make it for the party. All of his friends came, insisting it was the best cake they ever had, and despite Yoongi's protests against the idea, he couldn't help but agree. The then 13-year-old Yohan had simply whined that he didn't get his own cake, and their mother promised she'd make one for him once he was of age.

He'd never get it, though.

You'd drop by the most, bringing food and caring for his family. His father spent most of his nights out at the bar, drinking himself to sleep until he had to go to work the next day. His little brother, on the other hand, preoccupied himself with everything else, joining sports and hanging out with friends as though to distract himself. You would give Mr. Min a special hangover cure, (what he didn't know was made of frog spit and unicorn blood), and you'd make sure to carry Yohan to his bed when he passed out on the couch after exhausting himself.

Yoongi was the most work admittedly. You were the one the boys often went to when they wanted updates on how Yoongi was. You had to make sure he ate and showered, caring for himself as he moped about the house on those hot summer days. You two hadn't kissed, hugged, or made love since his mother's death. You didn't pester him, however, as you understood more than anyone else the meaning behind the absence of a parent. Perhaps if Yoongi had a clearer head he would've appreciated your efforts more, how you never once complained or gave up on him.

It took you a while to understand exactly how to act around him. Over the course of a month, you had become less of his girlfriend and barely even a best friend to more of a caretaker. You became responsible for him in a sense, becoming stern as you made sure he ate right and went out into the sun every once in a while, whether he wanted to or not.

At first, you wondered how you should treat him. Should you joke with him as friends? Should you give him affection as a girlfriend?

It didn't seem he really needed either of those right now, though. You didn't want to replace his mother by any means, but no one else was looking out for him, and he was so distraught that he didn't feel the need to function properly.

It was at those desperate times that desperate measures were taken.

You had made yourself scarce lately, though still worked efficiently. Yoongi began to wonder if he should break up with you, for the time being, knowing that it was unfair for you to have to deal with this much pressure and care for him beyond necessary. He wasn't being the best boyfriend, admittedly, but it was hard for him to put effort into anything with the grief consuming him.

He had been pondering calling you to discuss a break in the relationship until he sorted things out when knocked on his bedroom door. His mother had given you a house key years before, and with how things have been lately, you've been using it frequently.

"I need to show you something."

"Y/N, I was just about to call you."

"I know- I sensed a bit of it. You're a bit more distressed than usual."

Ah, yes, another part of the soulmate thing. Intense emotions could be sensed at certain times, sort of like a ringing in the back of the head or a tingling sensation. You were far more in tune with it than Yoongi was, being able to decipher what means what.

"I think we need to talk," he says, his voice slow. He took in a deep breath, despite how much it hurt him knowing that he'd have to do this. You weren't going ot be happy about this either, but knowing you, you'd understand. You've been more than understanding so far, but it was unfair for him to drag you through this.

You sat on his bed beside him, brushing your fingers tenderly across his cheek. "Alright. Say what you need to, Yoongs. I'll listen."

"I just don't want you to be upset."

You sucked in a harsh breath, as though already sensing what he wanted to tell you. "I promise I won't get frosted, if that's what you're worried about," you assure him, trying to tug a weak smile up.

Yoongi looked in his lap, piercing pain in his chest as his heart seemed to break for the second time. "I think we should break up."

He saw how you tried to look unaffected, though you were clearly bracing yourself for it. From your stiff posture to your sucked in a breath, you weren't surprised. Still, you weren't happy about it either.

"Okay," is all you say, a quiet voice.

"Call it a break or whatever you want- anything that makes you feel better. I still love you- I'm still in love with you- but this is unfair to you. You shouldn't have to take care of me like my mother did just because I can't seem to pick myself up. It's cruel of me to drag you through this since I can't prioritize our relationship right now."

"Oh, Yoongi, you should know that I'd do this even if we weren't dating." Why were you two crying now? You had fast, hot tears rolling down your face, despite the fact you had anticipated this. He had slow, cold tears that didn't even make it into his lap, despite the fact that he had been thinking about this for days. You shakily reach up to the pin above your heart, taking it down and putting it in his hands, closing his fingers around the small item. For two years, you had worn that over your heart every single day, no matter how it clashed with your outfits or how odd it looked. It seemed strange to see you without it, at this point. "Broken up or not, we're still best friends. Soulmate, in fact."

Yoongi cried, squeezing onto the small pin to the point that it hurt, his knuckles turning white as he threatened to draw blood. "I'm sorry," he weeped. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I love you so much- you shouldn't have to deal with this- with me."

"Yoongi," you say, your voice a plea as you wrap your body around his, shaking as well. "It's alright,  understand. You're not alone."

He buries his face in your neck, ruining your blouse as he hugs you tightly, both of you crying and shaking, listening to your sobs and heartbeats becoming one.

You pet his hair, and after what felt like hours of you two embracing one another as your emotions flooded the room, it all seemed to come to a standstill. It was as though a river didn't have a single drop of water left, barren and dry once everything had left it.

"Yoongi?" you whispered, your tone soft. "I still have that thing to show you."

"Are you sure you still want to show me it?" he questions, his voice a mere rasp.

You nod, a weak smile pulling at your lips. "Positive. It's more magic stuff- perhaps it'll cheer you up."

You two hadn't been doing much of it lately, the most being whenever he wanted to turn into a cat so that you could hold him, reminding him of his mother's embrace when she'd lull him to sleep as a toddler. But this was far more than the typical magic you two would indulge in.

Far more.

You left Yoongi's house, a new sense of determination filling you. You had been preparing for this for a while- and it was now that you had to put your plan into action. Now was the time to truly begin your legacy.

You entered your house, which was darker than usual. It no longer teemed with life as it once did, the only light being Maximus, who glowed as nothing more than a small, dull flame.

"Y/N," he croaked, his plea desperate. "I've seen how it's consumed your parents- your entire family before. I know you won't be like them, but you won't be in the ways you need to be. Don't do this."

You give him a stern glare, your face stony. Giving no reply, you reach your hand into the flame, a sharp hiss leaving your lips as you flipped over a piece of coal, the ground below you sinking.

The dungeon that resided below- your parents' favorite place. You had little memory of it when you were younger, as it had frightened you then. Now that you were older, however, it gave you a much more homey feeling, as though this was where you belonged.

Your hand glided over the forbidden pages, scrolls, and textbooks. You didn't need to study these as rigorously as you did everything else, no doubt. This ran in your veins. You were a master at this craftsmanship before you even performed your first spell.

You looked over what you needed, potions and materials that were hard to come by- many of which were illegal in the witching community.

Sliding your oversized goggles over your face, you flipped over the thickest textbook, opening the bookmarked page as dust flew about. Coughing, you looked through the ancient text deciphering the code as you tried to collect yourself.

You had no doubt this would run smoothly.

But that's what you were afraid of.

Taking a silver dagger, you began the ritual, cutting along the upper half of your inner arm, at the bicep, letting the fresh blood pool onto the floor. You smeared the blood onto your hands, painting the floor with the liquid until you made a pentagram.

You bandaged yourself up quickly, the cut not deep enough to cause a mortal wound, but deep enough to sting. Flurrying about the room, you looked for the ingredients. You took a cow's eye and smooshed it into your bloody hands until it was the consistency of applesauce. Next, you took the heart of a virgin, the wings of a fairy, a jar of mist, and a vial of Yoongi's blood. You placed each ingredient at a point on the pentagram.

Yes, it was done exactly as instructed. A pentagram of blood, from the witch who calls upon thee. A cow's eye ground like mush, to help one see beyond. A virgin's heart, pure enough for the blackest of souls to desire. The wings of a fairy, ripped from her so she may never fly again. A jar of mist, a direct source from the limbo between life and death. And lastly the blood of a mortal, who must be related to thee.

You took a piece of parchment, writing the name of who you wanted to call upon, before lighting it on fire with a flame from Maximus in the center of the pentagram. The fire spread from the center to the points, each of the ingredients flying up into smoke along with the blood, until the floor was completely clean.

Your heart hammered in your ears, the lump in your throat making it hard for you to so much as swallow as you stared at the smoke. It condensed, packing itself tightly together as though to break the laws of physics until the black turned into color, and you looked before at the figure, stark as the day it was born.

You didn't dare to look at it, not wanting to think, and not wanting to feel. You threw the clothes you had prepared, stolen from Yoongi's home, though no one even noticed. You banished the figure from your premises, ordering what it should do. It would walk downhill until it was at a house of great familiarity, and it would forget the day entirely and a little before.

So imagine Yoongi's surprise when his mother stood before his front door, smiling as brightly as the afternoon sun, looking more youthful than ever before.

-

He couldn't figure it out.

It was explained as some sort of grand mistake- whether it was miss-identification, a miracle, or lord knows what. He didn't care what the explanation was, for his mother was back.

He didn't believe it at first, dragging her to her grave, though finding it completely undisturbed. A sinking feeling in his stomach told him that if he were to dig deep and open the casket, his mother's corpse wouldn't be in there. After all, she was standing beside him.

But could he call it a corpse? She looked better than he could even remember. More alive than before. She was healthy and happy, a youthful glow she couldn't attain back when she was sick.

Everyone accepted it without further questions, as though put under a haze, a veil of ignorance draped before their eyes.

But Yoongi didn't have the fortune of being blinded by said blissful blessing.

After a week's time of staring at his mother and confirming she was, in fact, alive and present (though she had no memory of her death or how she came back), he marched to your house. He had been so preoccupied he didn't even think to come to you, his now ex-girlfriend, to decipher how you had pulled off this fantastical feat.

He soon discovered, however, that it wasn't fantastic in the slightest.

You had a gaunt expression, almost skeletal. You were faded, the blood drained from your face. You looked sickly and tired, as though the life was being sucked out of you.

You gave him a smile once you locked eyes.

"Merry Christmas," you say jokingly, though you cough and sputter afterward. It took a lot of energy for you to even bring yourself to this, and here you were suffering the consequences.

"Y/N," Yoongi said, reaching up to your face, cradling it in his hands as his eyes searched you for clues. "What happened?"

"A bit of a flu, perhaps," you excuse, closing the door behind you.

"This isn't a flu," he snaps, worry straining his voice. "What happened to you? What did you do? How'd you bring my mother back?"

Your legs were wobbly, and you shook with great force before collapsing into Yoongi's arms. He caught you easily, finding you lighter than before, as though you had lost a tremendous amount of weight in the past week. He carried you to the living room, the place lifeless and dull.

It was at that moment you burst out crying.

"Y/N? Y/N, please tell me what's going on? Are you ok? What happened?" The color drained from his face. "Y/N... what did you do?"

"What I had to," you whisper. "I'm so sorry, Yoongi, I've been lying to you this entire time. The entire time we've known each other, it's all been just one big fat lie. I should've told you sooner."

He stands up, eyes wide as he looks at you in horror. "What? What lie?"

You wipe your tears, staring him in the face. "My parents were never dead, Yoongi. They never could be, really."

"What?" His mind is muddled and disoriented, everything vertigo. "What do you mean?"

You chuckle lowly, though it's humorless in every sense of the word. "Do you remember when you first came to this house, love? Before I told you a single thing about my magic?"

"Yes?" He was hesitant, unsure of where you were getting at.

You pointed one gnarled finger, and he followed the direction, his eyes landing on what you indicated.

His stomach dropped.

"The painting?"

You nod, more tears falling from your face when you recounted the memory. "My family is of the Mortem Clan, one of the most powerful in all of witch history, but also one of the most dangerous and evil. Mortem is Latin for death, and we were feared throughout all of our lives by the other clans. We were the devil worshipers that many were falsely accused of being. Necromancers. We specialize in death, from killing to reviving. Torturing souls until they drop dead only to bring them back to life and do it all over again. We'd bring back greedy kings who wanted to rule forever, and we'd bring back our worst enemies who couldn't even beg for death. That is my own family talent.

"We are especially good at it, in every sense of the word. It runs throguh our veins as the Nile runs through Egypt. You cannot escape your bloodline, no matter how you escape your family. I'm the most talented of all, supposedly, and the last of my generation. No other exists, whether it's because some of my relatives were cursed, or because they couldn't find a suitable partner. We're a vain type, between you and me; prideful despite the flaws that society illuminated.

"Witches aren't even supposed to live among mortals, but my parents figured it'd be best for me to grow up someplace where I wouldn't be feared. As you well know, though, another family talent appears to be being shunned. Nevertheless, they wanted a quiet life- or at least my father was. After the war, he simply wanted to settle down, but he had fallen in love with a Mortem; a simple life was never in the cards.

"My mother fell for him too, oddly enough, but when it came to me she put her foot down. I had magical abilities despite my human father, and great ones at that. By the time I could walk I had risen a cow from the dead. I was exceedingly well at it, of course, and my mother was proud, and my father was supportive as always.

"Everything changed when I was eleven, though. My mother had brought a young woman, lulled by either seduction or deceit into our home, from another town so that we wouldn't be suspected. My mother slit her throat in front of me, as though it were a cruel practice lesson. She urged me to raise her from the dead, but I had been so traumatized and frozen, I couldn't do it. Perhaps now I would've but she put too much faith in me. My magic was of a God's, but my brain was still of a little girl's. Besides, I had known that if I did revive the woman, she'd be subjected to the same fate over and over again.

"The details are hazy, but I remember my mother screaming and shaking me, and my father coming close to help calm her down. I was so overwhelmed that my magic simply burst, a spell no one knew. Before I knew it my parents were trapped in a painting, and even after all these years I haven't found out how to get them out."

You stared at the painting with a sullen look, your mother's eyes narrowing as you recounted events, her glare meeting yours. Your father only offered a sympathetic look, placing his hand on his wife's shoulder to hold her close to him.

You blinked away tears, both you and  Yoongi diverting your attention to one another. "You don't deserve a liar, Yoongi. I had never felt so alone before, and you came in. It was a mistake getting our souls tied together, but at that point I was desperate. I had no friends, and now no family. You could've had a nice mortal girl to become your high school sweetheart, but instead, you got me, nothing more than a dangerous liar. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to scare you off, and after on I figured it was too late."

"Y/N, what happened wasn't your fault. It's your mother's for putting you in that situation. Of course you'd feel overwhelmed at eleven," Yoongi reasons.

"Perhaps, but it is my fault for keeping the secret from you all these years. There's no one else to blame but me."

Yoongi's quiet at that. "I suppose. What changed though? You seemed to use every other spell now that I think about it."

"After the traumatizing experience, I had vowed never to dive into my true talent- especially when I had you. I didn't want to mess things up any further by getting you involved in dark magic. I knew if I told you the truth about necromancy you'd ask why I didn't bring my parents back, and everything would start to unravel. But then your mother died, and I love you so much Yoongi- I figured I owed you at least that much."

"Why are you so frail and sickly, though?"

You laughed bitterly at that. "Death has a price in all shapes and ways, a fashion that will never go out of style, no matter how much time passes. Raising a human from the dead is an amazing feat; therefore, it requires just as an amazing of a sacrifice. Some say it's because those who are in Death's embrace should remain in his arms, others say it's because he wants there to be balance in the scales. The Mortem clan does the devil's work of giving a steady flow of souls in and out of hell, so there's a simple rule: take a soul, give a soul. Long story short, in order to keep your mother here I must sacrifice a soul by the next full moon. If not, my own life will be the one taken, and I'll be seated at the right side of Lucifer with the rest of my ancestors."

Yoongi froze. "You can't mean that."

You were silent.

He grabs onto you, as though trying to grip both you and him to reality. "You mean you'll die within, what, a few days? No, Y/N, you can't die. I won't let you. I love you, goddammit."

"You love your mother, too," you say, pushing his hands off of you with what little strength you had, tears falling down your chin to slide along the curve of your jaw. You could barely even look at him. "You were destroyed when she was gone. I had to bring her back."

"I'll be destroyed when you're gone too! No, what am I saying, when? If! No, you won't be gone, I won't allow it."

"You deserve a good girl who won't lie to you, who you can have a normal life with. We'll be far apart once we're in school anyway, and I don't want to hold you back. With my death, our souls will be untethered, and you'll be free to live your life as it was meant to be: without me. A devil's servant isn't what you deserve by any means. This was the least I could do for burdening you for so long."

"Burden?" He laughed bitterly. "You're the love of my goddamn life, Y/N. We'll get a sacrifice to replace you and my mother, but I'm not letting go of you. We're soulmates even without the spell, goddammit. We were meant to meet, we were meant to be friends, we were meant to fall in love. I won't hesitate to get someone else-"

"No," you say, your hand on his chest. You stared him in the eye. "The witch who performed the ritual must replace the soul herself, and I refuse to kill anyone. That is the one moral I'll hold onto. I'll replace your mother in the realm of the dead, I'll take her place. It's about time my clan ended, anyways."

"No!" Yoongi was sobbing, hugging onto you tightly. You were limp, letting him, though you couldn't even embrace him back. "I won't let you! Y/N, you're the girl I was planning to marry."

"Was," you muse. "You're already beginning to become accustomed to the idea, it seems. A Freudian slip."

"I didn't mean-"

"Shh." You place your hand over his mouth, no longer crying, a look of contentment on your face. "Be happy, Yoongi. Don't let my sacrifice go to waste. I'll love you from even down below. They used to say that us Mortem don't have hearts, that we don't even have souls, but I know that to be true, for no soulless, heartless being can lover another with the capacity that I love you."

-

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow you'd die.

It had been three days time since you told him the truth- the complete truth. In that time his mother had brought joy to the family, all traces of grief gone when she so much as smiled. Each day Yoongi went to you, begging you to save yourself so that you could be together.

Each time you refused.

There was one thing you had said, however, that stuck with him.

"Raising a human from the dead is an amazing feat; therefore, it requires just as an amazing of a sacrifice. Some say it's because those who are in Death's embrace should remain in his arms, others say it's because he wants there to be balance in the scales."

According to that, the only way to save you from having to sacrifice yourself would be to take away the need for a sacrifice.

AKA, have his mother return to the realm of the dead.

Not exactly like he got a kick out of the idea, of course. He found himself between a rock and a hard place, a strange place of limbo as he looked between the two options.

Essentially he had to choose either you or his mother.

His mind spun, and he tried to collect his thoughts. On one hand one of the possible reasons for the need of a sacrifice is that the dead should stay dead. On the other hand, you yourself told him to make your sacrifice worthwhile.

So here he was, a kitchen knife in hand in the dead of night, the waxing moon looming over him as though to make his decision.

He closed his eyes, and there were two things he'd see. The first image was of his mother's corpse in the open casket, her skin becoming grey and her lips becoming blue as she slowly began to rot. Her skin and flesh would melt away until only a skeleton remained.

The second image was of you, what he had seen today. You looked similar to his mother's corpse, on the brink of death, unable to so much as rise from your bed. You couldn't even be called a dead girl walking, and instead reminded him of an elderly woman on her death bed, not at all like the young, vibrant teen you were but a few weeks before.

It was an impossible decision. His mother or his girlfriend? (Technically ex-girlfriend).

He walked down to the kitchen to get himself a midnight snack, still pondering over the two options when to his surprise he saw his mother. She was collecting the dishes, humming a lovely melody, as content as could be.

She looked at him, her face brightening up. "Oh, Yoongi, my sweet boy! What're you doing up at this hour? I know it's summer and all, but I don't want this to become a habit."

Yoongi hid the knife behind his back, staring at her. "Oh... I just wanted a snack."

She shook her head, smiling as she ruffled his hair with delight. "You want to help me make Yohan's cake? I've got some of the ingredients, but it'll take a few days to make. I can't believe my little boys are growing up so fast!"

That's right- Yohan would finally be able to taste his mother's special cake on his sixteenth birthday.

"You know, it was just yesterday when you were as big as my thigh- you were as long as my knee to my hip, you know that? My precious baby boy, how could I forget?" She cooed at him softly, stroking his face with affection. "You boys are the light of my life, you know that? I know I don't get to say it often since you two are teens and don't want your mother babying you... but I'll never love anything more than you two. You're my everything, and I hope you two find a purpose to your life the way I found mine in yours. You're what kept me fighting- even throguh cancer."

Yoongi felt a lump in his throat, tears welling up in his eyes, slipping down his cheeks. He felt as though he had been crying far too much recently. By now he should be out of tears.

His mother's thumb swiped over the tear, catching it as she gave him a tender smile. "Tears, Yoongi? It's alright, Mom's here. I'll always be here."

"I know," he choked out, his voice cracking.

Her eyes began to well up too, and she wiped any tears away. "Gosh, I don't know why I'm crying. Silly me."

"Mom?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Ca-an I have a hug?"

"Of course, my sweet boy." She wrapped her arms around him tightly, and he buried his face in her hair. Despite the fact he was taller than her by a great margin, he still felt like the little boy who needed an embrace from his mother after getting bullied on the playground. She stroked his hair softly, her warmth enveloping him entirely. "I love you more than anything in the world, Yoongi. Never forget that."

"I love you too, Mom."

With that, he raised the blade, plunging the knife into her back.

-

When you woke up, you felt like yourself again. Looking down at your arms, they seemed young and fresh, no longer just skin and bones. A new sense of energy had regenerated you, youth showing in your face again. You no longer resembled death incarnate, but at that reminder, your heart sunk.

You knew why.

You ran to down the stairs, fully intent on going to Yoongi's to question what had happened. To your surprise he was on the couch, blood staining his clothes, a dark look in his eye.

"Yoongi?"

His head snapped to turn to you, and before you knew it he was running to you, his lips smashing against yours. You tasted tears and blood, but you returned the kiss, missing the taste of him that lingered beneath the odd mixture against his lips. It had been so long since you kissed him.

You break free, eyes searching and questioning his expressions. "Yoongi..."

"I did." It was a short phrase, only two words and syllables, but you knew.

You held him tightly, burying your face in his chest, feeling his tears weave into your hair. You two are silent for a minute, soaking up the moment. Ultimately it was Yoongi who truly had to make the sacrifice. He chose you over his own mother.

"I'm sorry," you croak out.

"No- don't be. The dead are supposed to stay dead. It's cruel to keep her in this world when you get to it. At least I got to tell her I loved her one last time. My family and I will have to cope, but we'll find a way. We can't stay focused on the past, we can only learn and appreciate it for what it was. We have to live not only in the present but also for the future. You're both of those things for me, Y/N. My mother lived out her purpose in life, and I don't think yours was to die on account of my own grief."

"I'll help you clean everything up before your family wakes up."

"No need. Once she... once she died in my arms, she sort of went up into this black smoke. Besides, I wouldn't want to have you bury a body for a second time," he assures you.

You look up at him, stroking his face, clearing it of blood and tears, and going on your tippy toes to give him a tender kiss. He kissed you back, arms tight around you, and at that moment you thought not of death, not of college, not of your own sins- instead you only thought of his embrace.

And that was right where you wanted to be.

[peachyteabuck]

study buddy, pt iii

series summary: after crushing on you since freshman orientation, Natasha finally gets the guts to ask you help you pass her postmodern lit midterm, to which you agree.

chapter summary: after an eventful night, there are things you have to accomplish at the library...alone. 

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

words: 4,365

trigger warnings: explicit talk of sex work, heavy sexting, smut (incl. fingering, oral sex (F receiving), strap ons, mdlg, humiliation), angst if you REALLY squint

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

part one, part two

You and Natasha stayed like that, her entire body wrapped tightly around you. After sleeping alone for basically the entirety of college, you enjoyed the closeness. It was hard to fall asleep, given how intimate you were to someone you’ve been fantasizing about for, you know, forever. Natasha fell asleep first, mouth pressed onto the back of your neck and hand laying across your waist. When her breath evened against your burning skin and you found the perfect angle to admire the posters on her wall, your own eyes droop closed (what can you say, being the little spoon makes you feel...safe. Also, you hadn’t had sex in a long time and you’re very tired of the mix of solitude and the post-orgasm haze).  

When your weekend morning alarm went off, it took everything inside of you not to throw it against the far wall. You played softball for one season in eighth grade and still had pretty good aim, you could probably hit the very center of a beat-up dart board about four feet up from the round. Luckily, you were able to constrain yourself enough to just hit snooze a few times.

Natasha, annoyed by your overly-adorable alarm song (hey, Ed Sheeran is a great artist to wake up to! The guitar calms you as the reality of the crushing weight of your own self-expectations crashes upon you), pushed you to get out of bed. “C’mon, babe you definitely have something to do. And that’s like, one of his worst songs and I need it to stop.”

You shrugged. The Google calendar alert that flashed across your screen notifies that you did, indeed, have to get up and do something. You groaned at the thought of being productive, flopping back down while you told yourself that Zizek would want you to do stay in bed.

Isn’t the only way to defeat capitalism to become unproductive? You’re studying for the next quiz, you tell yourself, even as Natasha starts pushing at the bottom of your spine to get you off the mattress. You’re just experimenting with different ways of destroying the most invasive and deadly economic system. Wait...is capitalism just an economic system, or is it more of a way of life? Can capitalism merely be described as an organizational system and a way to categorize the exchange of goods and services for monetary compensation without influence from government(s)? And like, do humans control the market, or the does the market simply own us like little pawns or a bunch of dumb, yappy puppies? What even is the market? Is the market a finite thing or is it some indescribable, infinite theory? Is it, like the universe, becoming infinitely larger by the minute?

Finally, you sat up, discontented by your own incredibly existential train of thought. As you got up and stretched, you could feel your worn muscles aching and joints popping obscenely loudly. As you bent to crack your back, a dull but satisfying pain started to spread through your body. You couldn’t tell if it was Natasha’s sub-par bed frame or her extraordinary sex kills; either way, though, you’re going to need some painkillers before you leave.  

Searching for clothes was...much harder than you anticipated. The pink cotton underwear and matching lace bralette you had pulled on in the middle of the night stood out against the grey cinder block walls, the smoke stains on the ceiling, the deep brown floors. Starkest of all, you were an anomaly amongst the piles and piles of dark clothes. Like a sunflower that’s sunken down to the bottom of the ocean, a ray of sunshine deep within a cave, a small baby animal stuck in a concrete cage.

Still - for whatever reason - you couldn’t find your clothes from the day previous. You would’ve screamed if it wouldn’t further disturb the half-asleep Nat. Why didn’t you just bring clothes with you, you knew were going to be staying over! You even thought far ahead enough to wear a matching underwear set. But no! No, of course you couldn’t just pack an extra skirt and tank or top or something else in your bag. Or even just a toothbrush, or floss, or some fucking gum, because of course you were out of gum. Of course, you were.

Good job, scholar.

After ten minutes of desperate, fruitless searching, you finally accepted your fate of wearing Natasha’s clothes for the day. Sighing, you grabbed a pair of (hopefully) clean workout shorts and a worn hoodie from a band you’ve never heard of and take them into the bathroom to shower.

It was stereotypical, something out of a scene in a shitty romance movie: You wear her clothes as a sign you’re really in love or something, and then she sees how hot you look in clothes you’d normally never be caught dead in, then she fucks you nice and slow with one of those cute white strap ons while she moans into your ear everything she wants to do to you.

Maybe she won’t be fucking you, maybe you’ll ride her dick, or thigh, or her fingers so she can maintain a good look at your in her soft sweatshirt, or maybe-

Fuck, the short and hot shower needed to turn into a long and cold one real quick. A long one. A very, very long one. That also needs to be cold. Did you mention that it needed to be long? And freezing?

When you trekked into the kitchen, you found the cupboards mostly empty. You were able to track down some bread to make toast and discover an egg in the back of the fridge, so you shouldn’t have been be excruciatingly hungry until you could get back to your food-filled apartment. You could pick up a snack on the way to the library if you get hungrier, anyway. Everything should be fine. It’s fine! Everything is fine. You even found some pepper and rosemary, that had to be a good sign.

About halfway through your tiny (and minimally satisfying) meal, Natasha emerges from the bathroom (that’s weird, considering you never noticed her come out of the bedroom). Her sides were fixed, and she had makeup on. Nice makeup on. The soft orange eyeshadow, white eyeliner, blush, bright highlighter, and pink lipstick made her look...sweet, kind, approachable. Her usual outfit had been replaced with black dress pants, black heels, a black dress shirt, and a burnt orange cardigan. You’d guess she’d be dressing for work, or an internship. You watch her closely as she moved behind you and wraps her arms around your waist. Natasha rested her chin on your elbow and pouts, silently asking for a bite of your breakfast like a pitiful dog.                         .

Reluctantly, you broke off a piece and fed it to her. She grinned as she chews, then kissed your fingertips as she swallowed. “That’s good,” she mumbled.

“Th-thanks,” you managed to get out, still inert at the feeling of her lips on such sensitive skin. In that moment parts of that night flashed in front of your eyes, including when she shoved four fingers into your mouth and told you to prep them for when they’d be inside you. You stuff the last of the bread and egg into your mouth to stop yourself from saying something stupid, sexual, or both. Also, from moaning. But mostly from talking and embarrassing yourself.

Sweet Jesus, you needed to get out of there.

Natasha still hadn’t moved from behind you and pressed her crotch into your bruised ass as she speaks. “You look amazing in my clothes,” she whispered in your ear, nibbling at your earlobes. It was hard to moan and chew at the same time, but she still got the picture as you choked on your half-chewed breakfast. Natasha giggled, a stark contrast to the heat behind her voice. “Look almost as pretty as you did last night,” it sent shivers down your spine. “All spread out and begging for me to touch you.”

You swallowed and whimpered, reminded of the night you two spent together. More memories flooded your brain all at once:

Her standing over you as you babbled for her to “take it, take it Natasha it’s yours it’s all yours please take it.” Her barely touching you with a vibrator while she mumbles how cute you look when you’re a struggling, desperate mess. Her complimenting your high-pitched whines when you’re begging for her to fuck you again, and again, and again and...

“Natasha, please,” you pleaded. You didn’t want to pull away, too entranced with the thought of more time along with Natasha. Still, if you had a sliver of a chance of getting done what needed to be done that day, Natasha would’ve had to let you go first. “I need to go study at the library.”

Natasha stopped peppering kisses on your neck and shoulder to smirk. “Oh, please. You have a whole day off, and I don’t have to leave for work for another hour. We can afford to spend a little more together.”

You sighed as you scrunched your eyes shut and bite your bottom lip. You wanted that so much, so fucking much, but that study session wasn’t a regular one that you can just blow off. You couldn’t just push this work aside and make up the time missed the next day.

That day was that time where you look at all the commissions people have applied for and pick the ones you want to do. You normally only did it once a month, but your rent was almost due, along with student loans and some repairs required around your apartment and you were anticipating your mother’s birthday gift costing a lot (on account of your guilt) and you were hoping to buy some new sticky notes and your favorite pens were almost out of ink and-

In short, you needed money and you needed it now.

That was usually a thing you make into a little time with just yourself; you made some sort of day of it. You’d go to the library, pick one of those secluded rooms where no one can bug you for a few hours, put on the large headphones you only use for when you get super intense in your studying, and listen to your favorite music. You’d track everything in gorgeous marble-patterned notebook you use especially for planning commissions, with some inspiration quote in golden lettering along the front. In it, you’d track stuff props needed, when you’d do the commissions, how much money you’d charge, if there was anything that money needed to go to, if you have to spend anything to buy something specific, and so on.

It was like the calm before the storm of which is taking lots of lots of nude photos and videos of yourself.

All of this means you had to put your foot down and turn down whatever Natasha wanted so you could leave. “Nat, seriously. I’ll be back by,” you checked the clock on your phone. Fuck, it was already nine fifteen. You wanted to be out of here ten minutes ago. “What time does your shift end?”

She shrugged, a little taken aback. “I dunno, like one or two this afternoon. Two fifteen at the latest.”

“I’ll be back before two, I promise.”

Natasha looked you up and down, eyebrows furrowed with concern. She’d never seen you like this in the short time she’d known you. She could feel you were tense, incredibly tense. Sensing something was off, she dropped it and backed off. “O-okay. I’ll see you then.”

You smiled, grateful for her not pressing you on why you seem so pressed. At some point, you’d need to explain to her what you were doing, what you did for a living - especially if this relationship was going where you thought (hoped) it is. But not right then. You’d know when the right time is, and that wasn’t in Natasha’s kitchen with your heart racing. Maybe once you figured out her stance on sex work. But how could you weave that into a conversation?

Hey babe, before we start officially dating, I just wanted to ask you about SESTA/FOSTA, the decriminalization of sex work, and material autonomy? What’s your stance on camming as sex work?

Maybe you could relate this back to what you were supposed to be teaching her, sneak it into a mini-lesson or something like that. Butler’s talked about sex work, so have a bunch of other people. Maybe those people were queer theorists or media studies scholars, but they were still people talking about sex work in a context at least loosely related to post-modernism! Just because those people wrote obscure papers or dissertations from small college in the middle of nowhere didn’t mean their opinions on sex work didn’t matter! But those papers were all probably about prostitution, or escorting, or the phrase “sex work.” None of them about camming or selling private Snapchats and nudes or being commissioned for special videos (which included anything from getting yourself off with a hairbrush or eating cheeseburgers until you throw up). None of them exactly matched up to what you needed to know, making your inquiry that much more complicated.

Still, you could almost imagine the short-answer questions now:

What would [insert author here] say about “modern” sex work verses “old school” sex work? What does newer forms of sex work say about the way capitalism forces us to adapt the ways in which we are productive? What has changed in sex work since its origin? What hasn’t? Why do some disagree with postmodernists stance that the dollar is the most powerful force in the world, whether dissenters believe that racism, sex, or gendered violence is more powerful? How does the frequent use of “porn” as a metaphor show how postmodernists view porn and the way we relate to it? Should porn ever be used as a metaphor? If no, what should take its place?

Grabbing your backpack and phone on the way out the door, you started on the twenty-minute walk to the library. The commute was mostly barren of people, leaving you to the thoughts whirring around your brain.

By the time you’d tripped five (5) times, you’re cursing yourself for nothing taking the bus. Why would you ever need so much time to think? It’s just thinking!

Process might be a better word, though. That girl back there fucked you so good you’d never be able to sleep with anyone else again without measuring them against the night before. You’d never be able to get yourself off without seeing her when your eyelids flutter closed from pleasure. That type of experience just doesn’t happen without changing a woman. Worse, you’d gotten this little baby ache in your sternum and shakiness in your hands that always happened when you had a crush. Why couldn’t you ever see pretty girls without reconsidering your entire life story?

As you kicked a rock over a tree stump, you tried to remember that she seemed into you too. This wasn’t like in tenth grade when you were drooling over that super popular senior girl and it turned out she just wanted to use you for an AP Calc project. This wasn’t some unrequited love story. So why are you so fucking nervous?

Oh. Right. Your profession (or, “profession” as some people have called it in poorly-worded anonymous messages on Tumblr or with fake emails).

Once you stepped inside the library, you found your favorite spot (close to the vending machines and bathrooms) and started working. Once the door had been locked and the headphones were on, you opened your laptop. Slowly, as your email loaded, you saw a notification of a text from Natasha.

You looked behind you on instinct, even though you were completely alone. When all your eyes saw was a wall covered in poorly-applicated beige paint, you sighed and clicked on the little grey box.

As the text loaded, all you could see is that there’s an attachment, and it caused your heart rate to increase dramatically. It felt like a forever later when you finally opened your scrunched eyes, and another trillion years until the photo loaded.

It was a picture of her holding the pink panties you forgot to grab (in your defense, the shorts you snatched from her bedroom floor had built in underwear) back at Natasha’s apartment with the caption “Looks like you forgot something...you gonna come back and get it?”

God, you hadn’t even opened a single commission email, which is the only thing you had intended on doing that day. You should answer at least a few before you text her back…

But a hot girl was flirting with you! Money and paying your rent be damned, you needed to focus on getting laid again.

You hold your breath as your typed, as if filling your lungs would cause your fingers to lose the ability to type.

I don’t know.

You bit your lip as you texted her again.

Why don’t you keep them as a trophy?

You opened one email while you wait for her reply. It was about scat. You specifically said that you don’t do that. Deleted. Immediately after you got a reply from Natasha.

Don’t be naughty with me or I’ll gag you with them.

Before you could reply you get another text.

Or is that what you want?

Um, yes. It was what you wanted. It’s all you wanted. You mean, it’s one of many things you wanted. But you did want it. Since you weren’t physically with Natasha, it’s easy to make your replies a little bolder.

If I did want it, would you give it to me?

You quickly opened another email. This one was easy, just some really artful nudes with your stretch marks on display. Maybe some cool-colored mood lighting. You replied with the normal stuff (the payment, when you’ll have them done, etc). Once that email was sent, you saw another text.

I can give you anything you want, princess

That made you shiver, your hands shaking and breath hitching as you reply.

Anything?

You didn’t have time to open another email before you saw Natasha’s next texts.

Anything at all, Princess

You just gotta tell me what you want.

You felt like God is speaking to you directly. Surely this woman was Heaven sent, given to you by the Holy Father as a gift for all your hard work over the years, or something.

But how am I supposed to talk if I’m gagged?

With that sent, received, and read, you closed the chat before Natasha could reply. If you just opened five more emails, then you could answer. That’s good, right? That’s a good way to keep yourself focused. Four answered emails, two replies from customers, and one blocked user later, you found it in yourself to open the texts from Natasha again.

Oh, really? Is that what you want?

Not gonna answer me?

Looks like you’re actually studying

what a good girl you are

Bad news:

I have nothing to do without you here bc I finished everything early

so I guess I’ll text you what I want

A sharp inhale of breath pierced the stale air, scaring you. Oh wait, you realized. That was you.

Want so much from you. Wanna sit on your face, I bet you’re the champ of eating pussy, aren’t you? So pretty and eager to please. I’d love to see you blow a strap on. Had a girl do that once a while ago, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. She wasn’t nearly as pretty as you, though. Bet you’d look a billion times better with spit dripping down your face while I shove my cock down your throat. Maybe tie your hands behind your back with those panties you left me. You look so cute tied up.

You nearly choked on the water you started chugging in an empty effort to make yourself calm down. Oh fuck.

That’s when you saw another message from her.

I know you’re reading these, little one. Don’t run from Mommy.

You sucked in a breath, unable to respond. It took forever for you to craft your text, in the meantime you tried to switch back to your inbox to see if there was anything you could do to ground yourself.

No such luck, though.

Tell me more, Mommy. Please.

Natasha happily obliged.

You know what my absolute biggest fantasy is? Me and some other top just domming the hell out of you. Passing you around, leaving bruises all of your pretty little body.  You’d be so cute, just mewling and whining under us. Maybe we’d both fuck you at the same time, stretching your pretty little holes to the max.

This woman was about to be the death of you.

I’d love that, Mommy

After you saw that message had been sent, you started to pack up your stuff. You texted her you were about to start your walk home, but before you could stash your phone in your backpack you saw another text.

Don’t worry baby. Mommy’s got you. I’m right outside.

And when you stepped out the front doors, she was. You blushed when you saw her, clamoring into the front seat with your knees nervously knocking themselves together. You were about to stutter out a “thank you” before she lunged forward to kiss you deeply. It was hard, aggressive, dominating. As she pulled away, she bit your bottom lip before she turned back to the wheel. “You’ve been bad, baby. So bad.”

You didn’t speak as she sped away, making your way back to her apartment in record time. Each stop light, her fingers seemed to worm their way up your thighs and tease at the hem of your shorts; each time the light went back to green, and she pulled away, you’d whimper as loudly and lewdly as possible. In all honesty, you were hoping to get her attention. Whether or not it would end how you wanted it to be questionable, but it was worth a shot. You would try anything at that point, to be close to her. To feel the softness of her cardigan, to unbutton her shirt, to unzip her pants.

When you made it her front door, you could barely make it inside before Natasha had you pressed against a wall. She slipped your backpack onto the slightly-warped hard wood carefully, not wanting your laptop to break.

You gasped as she ripped the shorts from your body. “Oh, God, Nat- “

She placed her left pointer finger over your lips as two fingers from her right slid into your dripping center. “Sh, baby girl, call me Mommy,” she whispered before she dropped to her knees.

Natasha didn’t start with any niceties, no prepping, rather she immediately began sucking on your clit and curling the now-three fingers inside of you. You wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to do something, but the combination of shock and the proximity to the front door made your mouth silent as you shook violently. You’d stuffed the sleeve in Natasha’s hoodie as you shrieked from your almost-too-quick orgasms, the fabric muffled your hearty screams as Natasha continued to fuck her fingers into you.

“N- Mommy, mommy please stop,” you begged. “Please stop I can’t, Mommy I can’t take it!”

Nat just laughed, never slowing down. “C’mon, princess. If you come one more time like this for me, I’ll stop. Okay, baby girl? Just one more…”

You’d had both hands covering your face now, your cheeks hotter than the face of the sun as your whole body convulsed. For a moment the feeling you had to piss cuts through the fog that had flooded your meninges, and then you felt a wash of pleasure wave through you that made you collapse against the wall.

“Hey, baby girl,” you heard Natasha coo in a metaphysical plane not your own. “Hey, princess it’s okay, I’ve got you.”

It took a few moments for you to come back, for your vision to stabilize. When you were finally able to see the woman in front of you, the first thing you noticed was her cheeks and lips and chin and nose glistening wet. While you looked confused, a shit-eating grin broke out on Natasha’s face.

“Was that your first time squirting?” She asked, her voice just above a whisper and full of excitement.

You nodded. “Y-yeah.”

Her grin only got bigger as she picked you up and brought you into her bedroom, sheets just as messy as when you had left them that morning. The uneven fabric was uncomfortable as she dropped you onto them, but then was no time to complain. No, you were smart enough to know as Nat held up a toy in each hand that you were not in a position to grumble about the sex-dirty sheets or protest to being thrown or grumble that this woman seduced you into coming home from the library early that day.

“Which toy you want, sweetheart?”

They were both silicone cocks, the one in her right hand a glittery pink while the toy in her left a matte black. The pink one was sleek and long, but the black one was truly the one that caught your attention. It was girthy, veiny. Your pussy already ached looking at it, and you squeezed your thighs together for relief as you imagined Natasha fucking it in and out of you at a pace that would leave you bruised and breathless.

Natasha noticed this right away. “Aw, is my little princess feeling greedy today?” She crawled on top of you after pulling on the strap and securing the toy in place. “You sure you want this one baby girl? You sure you want me to fuck you with something so big…could your tiny little cunt even take it?”

All you could do was whimper.

“Good girl,” she purred. “This is gonna look so cute covered in your cum.”

[thatfairyfangirl]

Part Of That World Chapter 2

“Hey (y/n)!” Tony called out chasing you down the hall. “Didn’t I see you breaking walls to get at some water for your…” he waved his hand mimicking the way you manipulated the water “thing?” 

You laughed and nodded. “Yes...I can’t make water, just control it.”

“Hmm that’s what I thought. I’ve had a couple of ideas on that. Would you mind if I borrowed your harpoon? See if there’s something I can do about fixing that?”

“Umm sure. I’ll bring it by your shop after dinner.” As you spoke Tony tilted his head quizzically, trying to find the slits of where your gills were, until finally giving the side of your neck a little poke. 

“So where are they? How does that work?” He asked, dying to know.

You laughed again, finding the curiosity delightfully refreshing. “I can only breathe through one or the other. When they get too dry to breath through they develop this seal.” You explained stepping away. “Now if you don’t mind I smell grilled salmon...it’s my favorite and I’m starving.” You said before rushing off to the kitchen. Your steps slowed, untrusting, as you saw Bucky, his hair pulled up into a messy bun and an apron wrapped around his waist. 

He turned from the stove to see the girl that reminded him so much of his former love, your eyes looking past him. “Oh hey. I wasn’t sure if you actually eat fish or not since you kind of are one but while I was out I found some kelp noodles I figured you would like...I hope.” He watched as your eyes widened and your lips pursed in anger. You are a person, not a fish! But even worse that meant there was no salmon for you! As he spoke the light of the setting sun caught the metal of a dulled fish hook hanging from a cord around your neck. He couldn’t help chuckling at the thought. “Is that meant to be ironic?”

“I am the daughter of a fisherman. And I live in the water. What the hell did you think I ate?” Your words burst from you as your fists clenched. “And I’m not a goddamn fish!” You added, storming off.

“Hey what’s wrong?” Clint asked with a folded brow as he watched you huff past the training room. 

“Metal armed mouth breather in there is what’s wrong!” You answered with a grumble. 

“Oh geez, what happened?” Steve asked folding his arms over his broad chest.

“It seems I’m not good enough to eat the same dinner as the rest of you.” You turned to face the direction of the kitchen to scream “Stereotyping asshat” directed at Bucky, not caring if he could hear you or not.

“Oh, is this the 'does she eat fish' thing?” Clint asked as he wiped the sweat off his face with a towel. “I’m sorry none of us were really sure what an Atlantean’s diet consists of.”

“Gives him no right to call me a fish.” Steve’s head hung low as you let out an exasperated sigh. “You know what...no...I’m over it...Clint, would you be so kind as to show me where I can get some decent sushi?”

“Sure, I’ll go get Nat, she would know better than me. Raw fish isn’t really my deal.” Clint agreed with a friendly smile.

~ ~ ~ ~

Your aqua blue sundress danced in the spring breeze as Nat drove you to her favorite sushi place in the city, blond and blue hair tied into a bun hiding the blue as best as possible. “By the way, have I thanked you for saving me yet? Hell you probably saved all of our asses by just acting as a translator.” Clint said with a friendly smile as he opened the door for the ladies. 

“Yeah well I am kind of awesome.” You joked as you sat down at a table. “No but really you don’t have to thank me. Last thing my people need is a war with ignorant inconsiderate mouth breathing one armed man bun wearing idiots.” Your brow scrunched and your arms folded over your chest as you spoke. 

Nat burst into laughter. “Why do I get the feeling you’re talking about one specific mouth breather and not all of us as a whole?”

“Stupid man bun and metal arm….Who does he think he is anyway! Ugrr! I can understand people making slip ups. It’s not like anyone really knows anything about us or our culture ...But he could at least have the decency to apologize!” You responded with a huff.

“Yeah he can be pretty taxing to deal with sometimes. But cut the guy some slack. Up until recently he was just a brainwashed assassin for….” He trailed off realizing telling you Bucky was former Hydra probably wouldn’t make things any better.

“You know...she reminds me of Laura when you two first met.” Nat joked as Clint let out an embarrassed grown, burying his face in his hands. “He used to piss her off so much.”

“Used to? I still do!” Clint laughed. “I remember the first day I met Laura she slapped me so hard I thought she rattled some teeth loose.” He paused to take a drink. “And right then and there I knew one day I was going to marry that woman.”

Meanwhile back at the tower

“Hey Buck what’s this I hear about you insulting the new recruit?” Steve asked as he stepped into the kitchen.

Bucky was still standing at the stove, hand in his hair as he scratched his head trying to figure out exactly what happened. “I…” He looked up to Steve. “What the hell kind of crazy woman is she?! She just went from ignoring me to verbally ripping my face off in about 2 seconds!”

“Give her a break pal! She's been living with mer people for God knows how long.” Steve said as he took a seat. “And heaven forbid a girl doesn't fall head over heels for you the second she lays eyes on you. I mean, Hydra did kill her dad...she could just be afraid of you.” He added with a chuckle. “Are you sure this doesn't have to do with Pearl?”

“No...it wasn't just lack of interest. And it wasn't fear. Fear...fear I can take, I can understand. But she just looked right through me… like I was like I was nothing.” He let out a groan of frustration. “How was I supposed to know what fish people eat? She could have just said something.”

“Yeah we probably should have asked." Steve said with a nod. "Give her time, she'll come around...everyone else did.”

“Snotty better than everyone else? I doubt it. And what the hell is with that necklace? She trying to be funny?” Bucky added as he tossed the spatula he had been holding into the sink.

“Hey, Mother Russia, would you mind not breaking the kitchen?” Tony joked as he came in for dinner. “You talking about the little mermaid?”

“Oh don’t call her that. The high-hat sure doesn’t like that one.” Bucky vented as he moved back to the stove to plate the food.

“Really? Because her room looks like Ariel’s castle.” He peered over Bucky’s shoulder, counting out the salmon. “Oh god Bucky did you really just assume she would be thrilled for those kelp noodles? I thought we agreed we needed to ask her!”

“She’s a fish!” Bucky protested stubbornly. 

“Person.” Tony and Steve corrected in unison. “And grilled salmon is apparently her favorite.” Tony added pointing to the lack of enough portions. 

“Ok, I get it.” Bucky put the plates down. “I’ll go apologize and tell her she can have my piece. I’ll go out.”

“Nah don’t bother. She went out with Clint and Nat.” Steve said with a wave of his hand. “I’m sure she was just cranky because she was hungry or something.”

~ ~ ~ ~

Later that night

You let a deep yawn slip from you as you changed into a pair of sweats for bed. With a sigh you let your hair down out of the bun for the night before venturing out to the bathroom to brush your teeth and ready yourself for bed. You moved softly and silently down the hall well aware you stayed up later than you probably should have. As the foam of the toothpaste grew in your mouth you watched the door open, surprised to find a shirtless Bucky with a towel draped over his left shoulder, as if to shield anyone who might see him from the scar of the metal meeting flesh. “Oh hey, just brushing my teeth, you mind,” he made a gesture signalling he wanted you to make room for him at the sink, but your eyes didn’t linger on him long enough for you to see. He hurt your pride today, deeply. In your culture he would be ignored until he had the guts to say he was sorry...and that was a custom you always liked to keep. Instead your eyes were focused solely on your reflection in the mirror, most specifically the fish hook that hung around your neck. “So what? You’re too good to acknowledge me now?” He asked, slightly offended by being ignored. But you did nothing, which only made his blood boil all the more. Satisfied with your dental hygiene you rinsed out and squeezed by him, doing everything in your power to avoid so much as touching him as you moved past. “Guess we’ll see how much better than us you are out of the water at training tomorrow.”  He called out as he watched you walk down the hall. You knew you shouldn’t but you just couldn’t help sticking you middle finger in the air as a response. Sure the Atlantean way was better in your opinion but you still had human instincts too.