#at a brief glance it's kind of easy to mix them up

[stanfordpines-enbyboyfriend]

I can't get over how similar these flags are

[demonicbaby666]

Dom Emily prentiss x intern fem reader is all i ask!! Smutty ofc, a lil bit of a humiliation kink if you’re comfortable!!! Thank yewww

Packing Heat

One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 4.8k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, strap-ons (r!receiving), semi-public sex (office sex, again…), praise, degradation, mommy kink, kind of dub-con at one point, top!Emily, bottom!reader

Summary: Interning at the BAU means you don’t interact with the person in charge a lot. Of course, this doesn’t mean you haven’t seen the section chief in passing or exchanged pleasantries; it's that they’re simple, short-lived and often anti-climatic. However one evening, you find yourself in the desolate office with no chance of going home, work to be done, but no one to sit with you through the process. With only one other soul residing on the sixth floor, it seems Emily may be your best bet for company.

A/n: Listen, could she be more dom? Yes. Is there any humiliation? Not really... But I got lost while writing, so please don't be mad at me... Hope you still enjoy!

When you'd first started at the BAU, it was safe to say you hadn't seen much of the woman calling the shots. There were always updates about when the team were taken out of state, what their cases would entail, the steady progress being made, and the brief comical encounters Garcia spewed around the office. When they were back, everyone made an effort to small talk. They welcomed you well and continued to appreciate the little things you did for them daily. Emily, however, was constantly on the go, meaning every encounter you'd had with her consisted of one-way glances and hopeful smiles in the event she decided to notice her surroundings and the human lifeform less than two metres away. 

She never did, though, until one uneventful evening. 

Almost everyone had vacated the building. The only remaining souls left on the sixth floor were you, Emily, and a one-person cleaning crew—whom you watched exit through glass doors before approaching the brunette's office with shaky knees. Peeking through the window, you saw her attention dart to and from the bright computer screen to the mountains of bureaucratic paperwork lying atop her desk. It was easy to get lost in the little creases between her eyebrows, brought out by the deep scowl she wore, the delicate way her fingers were woven together, and the pads of her thumbs skirting against one another as she pondered in deep thought. 

It was nearing eight, and you were struggling to understand how someone could appear so put together at this late hour, given that their day was most certainly jam-packed with non-stop slog. 

Emily's eyes suddenly flashed up. She squinted toward her door, trying to figure out who'd be here this late other than herself. When she appeared to have worked it out, she leaned back victoriously in her chair, a smug smile on her face, when she called out, "Are you going to stand out there all night?" 

You could have done two things: scurried off like a teenager caught peeping or held your chin up high and walked into the older woman's office with little to no shame. Somehow, you managed to do a mix of both, scurrying in with sagging shoulders, a guilty smile plastered on your face and trembling hands clasping your laptop over your chest.

"Well, it's eerily quiet out there, and I would go home to write this paper. It's just that my roommate and her boyfriend have an awful tendency to forget about volume control when they're—" You cut yourself off, realising it probably wasn't appropriate to talk to your boss about your roommate's over-the-top borderline pornographic soundscape. "I was wondering if I could, you know."

Emily, satirising as ever, waited with a raised eyebrow and a relaxed smile for you to continue your purposefully unfinished question. 

"Sorry, I should let you work." You surrendered to your weak resolve with flushed cheeks and began to turn around.

"Sit," she ordered before you had fully turned back around to the door, nodding to the available chair on the other side of her desk. Her eyes followed your journey to the seat, watching as you placed your laptop down and opened it with shaky fingers. Satisfied, she turned her attention back to her work. "I could do with some company." 

The following silence, starting as unsettling and stagnant, blossomed into something warm and comfortable. There were occasional glances thrown your way and vice versa. Their acknowledgement and appreciation were shown in the form of timid smiles on your end and double takes followed by teasing smirks on Emily's. 

When half an hour had passed, your shoulders had finally relaxed, your fingers had stopped their infernal twitching, and your paper neared its completion. There was a proud smile cresting, and you were trying to prevent it from forming, knowing how dorkish it made you look. But you knew there was no hope when your cheeks ached and your jaw locked. You granted yourself the freedom to display your gloating smile. 

Just as expected, Emily had a questioning look on her face when you dared to look up from the document. There was a playfulness to the upward quirk of her lips - the superiority of a predator knowing the power they have over their prey, ready to prove it at any given moment. 

"I've almost finished," you timidly admitted, feeling obligated to explain as heat infiltrated your jutted-out cheeks. 

Without a second thought, the ravenette stood up and made her way around the desk. She could have easily chosen to turn the laptop around. Instead, she took the far more intimate route. 

Soft curves grazed your shoulder blades, causing you to shiver. The weight finally settled, soft padding pressed flat against your back as Emily read your paper, and suddenly, your stomach had worked itself into looping knots, and your heart was racing. 

The struggle continued as you fought not to fidget, if only to alleviate the growing tension mounting between your thighs. This was only made worse when Emily's right hand left the back of your chair to drop down over your shoulder and land comfortably on your thigh. 

"Such a smart girl," she whispered sultrily into the shell of your ear, squeezing generous flesh between her fingers. 

With a scrambled brain, there was little fight to be put up against the meek whimper that crackled against the constricted lining of your throat. Subconsciously, your thighs tensed, and your pussy fluttered as you were reminded how close Emily's hand was to where you could only dream she'd touch. 

You'd thought you imagined it—the subtle shift in the room from breezy and light to torrid and all-consuming, but with Emily's fingers veering off course, inching higher and higher, reality came crashing down. 

"Thank you," you struggled to get the words out, and when they did come out, they were tremulous and feeble. 

Turning to look at her may have, in hindsight, been a mistake because where her gaze should have been fixed on the laptop screen, it was glued to your lips. Unexpectedly, your stomach flipped, and you felt dizzy. She was still superbly perfect up close, skin smooth like silk, cheekbones sharp as a razor, and lips cut from velvet. It was too close, dangerously so, you had to look away. Outside the window, you spotted a swarm of birds barely visible against the night sky. You ignored the clanking of your heart as you focussed on their synchronicity, watching them circle each other until they became one big blur of messy movements. 

The hand resting on the leather backing of your chair rose, skirting up and over your neck, until a firm grip was established around your dangling ponytail. She was gentle when she tugged, aware that though she wanted to educate you in the art of being owned, you were delicate.

"I think a pretty thing like you deserves a reward," she baited. "Don't you?" 

Her grip on you may have been physical. However, a stronger pull was coming from deep within you, an unimportant piece of scrap metal drawn in by a powerful magnet. It was useless to deny her. The mesmerising glow of her chocolate eyes and the promise of being made to feel special was too powerful. So, you nodded slowly but eagerly, desire painting your eyes dark shades of lust. 

"That's a good girl." 

Emily didn't miss how you preened at the praise and safely stored that information away for further use. She shifted to your side, hands migrating to the small of your waist, guiding you to your feet. The act of it was far gentler than you'd expected, like a gentleman asking a maiden to dance, sweeping her off her feet to whisk her away into a fairytale land filled with magic and romance. 

Certain the benign treatment would be short-lived, you granted yourself the leniency to enjoy it whilst it lasted, refusing to get too caught up in the dull ache between your legs that craved the form of savagery Emily displayed in the field. 

There was nothing short of passion in how she worked. It drove you crazy. As wrong as it felt, you couldn't help but envy the dirtbag the team was working to catch because you saw how badly the brunette wanted them. The look in her eyes, gratification and disgust all at once, when she'd achieved what she set out to do and was staring the devil right in the face - it made your heart race, your palms sweat and your cunt throb. 

The memory kickstarted what could only be described as a brutal attack upon the older woman's lips. To her credit, Emily indulged the outburst for a lot longer than you'd have thought. As if she'd expected it, she quickly responded, pulling you into her body and tilting her head to the side to deepen the kiss. The lead was stolen promptly from your grasp when Emily wedged a leg between your thighs, backed you up against her desk and tactically slid her tongue into your gaped mouth. You would have gasped if not for the fact you were immediately indulged in the minty taste of your boss's tongue skirting over the roof of your mouth. So much so that you scarcely noticed the pressure coming from your core was no longer just a phantom need manifested but taut clothed muscle pressing you further and further into the sharp wooden edge of the desk. 

"Emily," you breathily moaned, pulling back and separating your kiss-swollen lips from the brunette's. Ordinarily, you wouldn't have allowed what happened next to occur, but this was Emily, after all, the BAU section chief, and if you were to let anyone order you about, it would be her. 

She backed away from you with a final nip to your bottom lip, letting it go with a pop, and you fought the urge to reach out and pull her back to you. You knew you'd already tried to take things into your own hands once, and doing so again may undermine any chances you had of keeping the ball rolling on tonight's affairs. 

You could feel the tight pull of your ponytail and all the places where hair had been lead array from the confines of your hairband, and it truly dawned on you how out of sorts you must have appeared. Tracing your fingers over your lips, you could make out how swollen they were - puffy and hot, yet desperate and pouted, begging for more. Your breathing was laboured, filling the room's silence, and your shirt suddenly felt too tight as your chest expanded with each intake of oxygen. It almost came as a relief when Emily opened her mouth to finally speak until you heard what she'd said.

"Take your clothes off," she mindlessly ordered, walking around to her chair and sitting back in it. Her eager eyes trained over your body with the faintest shimmer of mirth. 

Initially, it was a shock. Of course, it was. You were in an official government building, personnel still sparsely spread throughout, and a goddess of a woman was asking you to bare yourself to her. 

For the longest time, revealing your body to someone always felt like giving up something. Perhaps some kind of purity. The moment you gave it up, it bred only guilt and shame that twisted and pulled at the pit of your stomach until you felt sick. You stood there, waiting for that feeling to come. It never did. 

Remaining still, your body pulsed not with nerves but with exhilaration and anticipation. It took a few seconds to realise this was precisely what you wanted. You wanted to give this false sense of purity away. There was not a sudden influx of courage soaring through every living cell of your body. However, there was enough for you to put on a front and do as you were told. 

"Slowly." Emily sat further back and placed her elbows neatly over the arms of her chair. She laced her fingers together, offered you an encouraging nod, and then was back to watching you raptly.

Feeling like a glutton, you followed a path of desire and heeded Emily's request, fingers increasingly fumbling over each button of your shirt. 

"So obedient." And in no way was it said negatively; the adulatory smile she gave you only sought to prove that further. 

The way she looked at you made you feel as though you were already naked. Maybe that was why it was so easy to get lost in the subtlety of undressing. It was art, and you were a performer. That's what you told yourself. And for the most part, it worked. 

With closed eyes, you trailed your fingers over your shoulders, letting your shirt drop to the floor. The AC raised goosebumps over your chest, pebbled your nipples under your plain bra, and you smiled. You smiled because this was the most alive you had felt in months. The thrill of moving on to your slacks and deftly unclasping your belt felt like being on a rollercoaster, like missing a step and laughing fear in the face afterwards. You felt utterly fearless. 

In the back of your mind, you could sense Emily's eyes still on you. You could hear her moving around but didn't think to check her reaction. You were in your element, and far be it for a look of appraisal, or lack of, to stop you. That was until your trousers hit the carpet with a soft thud, and a sharp breath was heard from across you. 

Your eyes snapped open, and you found Emily's smile was absent. The brunette now had her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she looked you up and down, knuckles white from her deadly grip over the armrests. 

She lifted a hand, palm facing the ceiling as her index and middle finger crooked. "Come here so I can get a proper look at you," she said, slightly breathless. 

The desk had conveniently covered the lower half of Emily's body, which meant that when you circled around and came to stand next to her, you could see exactly what the earlier ruffling had been about. 

"Is that?" You froze, both shocked and utterly intrigued by the thick black dildo jutting out from the older woman's opened slacks. 

She didn't need you to finish the question, already nodding as she followed your line of sight. Leaning forward with an outstretched arm, Emily coiled her fingers around your wrist and pulled you forward, causing you to almost stumble over your own feet. At this closer distance, you could tell the faux cock would give you a run for your money. It was thicker than anything you had taken before, though that was not a hard trophy to earn, given that the most you had let anyone put inside you was three fingers. 

"Do you want to come sit on mommy's lap?" Emily asked with a tilt of her head. 

She didn't miss how your breath caught in your throat, how you seemed to stop blinking, stop moving, stop existing.

"Are you scared?" the lioness asked, sights set on her prized fawn. 

You shook your head and placed one foot in front of the other, eyes downcast as you took in the size of Emily's additional appendage. The shake of your jaw gave you away. 

"I don't like being lied to," she snapped, eyes dimming to an even darker shade of brown. 

She pulled you in by your waist and sat you on her lap, cock brushing over the thin material of your underwear. Instinctively, you wedged your bottom lip between your teeth to quiet yourself. But Emily wasn't having any of it. Her thumb came to your captive lip, where she helped release it with a soft flick. 

The smooth texture of Emily's cock through your sodden panties was a needed relief. Its head purposefully pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves evoked a flurry of shivers to run down your spine. And with nothing holding you back, you moaned in gratitude. 

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Emily smirked, watching you rut against her. 

"Yes," you uttered, breath caught in your throat. 

Happy to watch, Emily relaxed her shoulders and leaned back, enjoying the show you were putting on for her. Only when she recognised the tell-tell signs of frustration wash over your features, from your creased brow to the bite of your lip between your teeth, did a sick smirk lick the edges of her lips. With a mischievous glint shining in her eyes, the older woman shifted her position, pointedly ignoring the sound it pulled from you. 

"Something wrong?" she asked with a hitch of one eyebrow, adamant to appear oblivious. 

You gave no reply, only held tight to her shoulders in defiance and continually ground down on her, trying so hard to pleasure yourself to no avail that your eyes began to sting with the emergence of tears. 

With sweat threatening to spill down the side of your face, the tension between your legs starting to ache, and your release nowhere near in sight, you threw your head back with a sigh and whispered a quiet 'please' to the ceiling.

"Please what?" Came the dull reply, tone bored, unamused, unimpressed.  

You tried to impale yourself, failing as strong hands held you down. It was driving you crazy—pleasure being so close yet so far. 

With one hand removed from your hip, Emily gripped your jaw and turned your attention solely to her stern gaze, "Are you going to stop being a brat and tell me what you want?" 

When no answer came, she let go, jerking your head back as if disgusted with the lack of compliance. 

"Get up." 

Ice, you were made of ice. Sat still, shocked, speechless and slightly mortified. 

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Emily's voice was no longer flat; it was not roaring either. Instead, it was layered, resembling the same barbed tone a teacher might use with a disobedient student. It was enough of a motivator to get you to rise to your feet. 

Following you closely, the older woman, too, rose to her full height, hands meticulously reaching behind your back to expertly relieve you of your bra. Never once did she look you in the eye. 

With the same callous approach, you were turned and pressed against the desk, papers sticking to your heated chest. Emily was quick to loop her fingers through the hem of your underwear and slip them down your thighs, allowing gravity to do the rest. 

The full-bodied presence behind you lessened, and you took it as the opportune moment to glance back. 

The brunette had let her trousers drop to the floor, allowing you to see how her porcelain skin was directly contrasted by the black leather of her strap-on. Unlike yourself, she did not appear nervous or afraid. As she kicked the tailored pants aside and met your gaze, you realised how in control she was. 

Her gaze moved down your body, hands running down your back, until finally, she pressed herself against you and lowered her body atop yours. 

"I can feel how wet you are," she teased, running two fingers through the mess between your legs. "Are you always this wet?" 

"Emily, please," you begged. 

"I asked before, please what?" She raked five fingers down your side, moving them back up till they wound tightly in your hair and gripped your neck to an uncomfortable arch. Two fingers pushed inside you but did no more than that, remaining still as stone. "If you're going to be a baby and refuse to tell me what you want, you'll get nothing." 

"Fuck me!" You no longer had the sound of mind to acknowledge shouting something vulgar could attract attention. Logic had evaded you, allowing you to play right into your boss's hands. "Please just fuck me."

Sliding her slick fingers out of you, she proudly stated, "That wasn't hard, was it?"

If the older woman wanted an answer, she did not allow for one. In one fluid motion, she rose from over you and snapped her hips forward, sheathing the entire length of her cock into your cunt. Your breath caught in your throat, resulting in a strained groan tumbling out of your open mouth. The pit of your stomach dropped, and try as you might have not to clench around the toy inside you, you did precisely that. 

It was new, the foreign feeling of being filled so fully that one slight move would summon pleasure that sent shivers through your whole body. It wasn't unwelcome, especially when Emily started to move, and heat engulfed your entire body. Her pace was languid, allowing you to feel each slide of her cock along your slick walls, how each push of her hips ended in the tip hitting the spot within you to cause the furling in your stomach to expand tenfold. It was all you could do not to scream when the push and pull and Emily's hips moved with more purpose, jerking your body into the edge of her desk. 

"I've barely started, and you're already dripping down your thighs." Her voice was laced with mirth, finger smearing your mess as if to prove an unnecessary point that had your cheeks burning up. "How long have you been thinking about this?" Emily finished her question with an arduous thrust. "How many times have you sunk your fingers into your pussy and thought of me?" 

The questions continued, each hitting the nail right on the head. Your cheeks were scorched with the embarrassment that comes with having your desires known and exposed, but it did not take hold of your conscience as the event of falling in front of a large crowd might have. It was comparable to how a blushing maiden may feel when caught by a suitor in only their undergarments. It excited that small part of you that gave in to demoralisation and encouraged you enough to meet Emily halfway as she thrust into you. 

As your pleasure mounted, the need for more grew. Your clit, swollen and needy, begged for relief, and you beckoned to its call, sliding one hand from above your head to the juncture between your legs. It was when the tips of your fingers brushed against your sensitive pearl and you gained the briefest taste of the euphoria that Emily removed her hand from your thigh and snatched your hand away, halting all movement. 

You could have cried, having everything, then nothing, so quickly. 

"Did I say you could do that?" 

Abruptly pulling out, Emily stood tall and proud, staring down at you with curiosity and disappointment lining the brown of her eyes. She heard you whimper and acknowledged your sniffle. 

"There's no need to cry," she tutted, flipping you onto your back and lifting you by your shoulders. "You're going to listen to me from now on." 

You nodded, and she once again lined her cock to your opening, only now she waited, taunting you with possibilities. 

"Beg," she instructed. 

And you heeded. 

"Please. I need you." 

"You can do better." She sounded bored, and this struck a nerve within you, one that begged you to impress her, show her you could be a good little girl, and beg as though your life depended on it. 

You took a heaving breath and looked into Emily's eyes, sporting your best puppy eyes. "I need you. I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me with your big cock, mommy. Make me scream out your name. I need it." 

"There's a good pet," she cooed, mesmerising you with the bating of her lashes as she looked down to where your bodies were so close to touching. 

It all happened in a blur. The next thing you knew, your nails were digging into muscled shoulders, legs wrapping around a slim waist as the brunette filled you, wasting no time in picking up a brutal tempo. You barely recognised the sound of your voice as high-pitched obscenities spilt past your lips. You felt your whole body light up, heard blood pulse in your ears, and saw in real-time just how easy it was to aid Emily in calling upon your impending orgasm. 

Your vulgar mouth, luckily, seemed to amuse Emily enough for her to let you continue rutting your hips against her. The corners of her lips curled, and her smirk lasted only so long for you to see before she inched forward and kissed you with passion and hunger. It was easy, so easy, to melt into the brief moment of intimacy. The butterflies felt tangible, and the sparks crackled in your ears; it felt so fucking good you'd almost forgotten just where you were. Of course, bubbles eventually popped, and this one was demolished by rustling outside Emily's office. 

What little movement Emily allowed, her hands holding you firmly against the desk by your waist, was not enough to wriggle free and glance behind to see what was happening. Instead, the possibility of being caught weighed heavier with each drawled-out second. 

"Emily," You tried but were cut off by a tongue sliding into your mouth. "Emily, stop."

With a bite to your lip, the older woman backed off, confusion marking her features, "What is it?" she punctuated her question with a hard thrust. 

"Someone's o-" another hard thrust. "Someone's outside."

Emily smiled, picking up her pace, forcing you to breathe so deep you felt your lungs expand. 

"You'd better be quiet then." 

Whatever protest you were about to give died in your throat when nails skirted up to your chest and dug painfully into your breast, and Emily pushed herself so deep within you that you felt her hitting your cervix. A strangled cry was briefly heard before you managed to clasp your hand over your lips and silence your own mewls. She was fucking you as if her life depended on getting a reaction out of you that would draw attention. Nevertheless, you held firm and stayed as quiet as your muffled sobs would allow you to be. 

"Emily, please," you were pleading for release and for the brutal fucking stop because you knew there would be no chance you could keep a lid on your volume; there would also be no chance you would survive not cumming. 

Taking note of this, the older woman took the route of giving you your release, dragging a thumb down over your clit and applying the right amount of pressure to have your tense legs turn into a shaky mess of tremors. She didn't stop there; with a brief slide, she ran your slick over your bundle of nerves and started to circle steadily. 

"Fuck!" You screamed out, missing the way the ruffling outside suddenly stopped. "I'm cumming. I'm cumming." 

"That's it," the brunette encouraged, her fingers coming up to crook and tangle through the mussed mess of your hair, nails slowly working against your scalp. "Let everyone hear what a slut you are, letting me fuck you over my desk." 

She didn't stop, though, not when your clit felt raw and your pussy tender, not when you begged and not even when you reached out and tried to grab her wrist. Emily only yanked you down by your hair, relishing the thud the brutal move made. She fucked you harder till stationary fell to the floor from your thrashing arms, and by then, her lips were already wrapped around a nipple, sucking firm whilst you cried through a second orgasm. 

When you finally felt empty, you didn't even try to open your eyes. You knew your vision would be blurred if not blacked out. Instead, you focussed on coming back down to earth, steading your breath and not thinking about how you strangely missed being filled by Emily despite being so fucking sore. 

"Are you still alive?" a smug voice asked from above, and you pried your bleary eyes open to weakly smile. 

"I think so," you whispered, peeling your sweat-slick back from the desk. That was when you remembered the unknown personnel outside and shot a look at the door. 

"They're gone," Emily said, cupping your chin and turning you back to her. Again, you were greeted by that conniving smirk. "After your commentary, I think they understood we didn't want to be disturbed." 

"But-" 

"Uh-uh." she silenced you with a finger to your lips, the smell of yourself still narrowly fragrant. You took the digit into your mouth, patting yourself on the back as you watched Emily's eyes turn dark. "You want to make Mommy feel good now, don't you?" She knew the answer, but oh, how she loved to watch you sink to your knees and eagerly nod anyway. You helped unclasp the straps of her harness, then set to pealing the last barrier keeping you from her heat down her legs. 

"My good little pet," she said, smiling down at you and happily watching you beam. Her hand cupped your jaw before moving to the back of your neck, where she pulled you to her core and began singing a melody of moans. 

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[skywalker1dream]

Title: Stuck with the stranger

Note:so it's 2:40am I can't sleep and this fine man is in my mind, inspiration 'hating game' hope you have good day or night and don't forget to drink water ;3

part two | part three

Summary:When You get trapped in an elevator with a charming stranger named Carlos, what starts as a stressful ordeal turns into the beginning of a heartfelt friendship. As you two share stories and dreams, an unexpected bond forms.

Warning: Contains mild claustrophobia and brief moments of anxiety.

Carlos sainz x reader

You entered the elevator, you were accompanied by a stranger.

The doors of the elevator closed with a quiet thud, sealing you inside with a stranger. You barely spared him a glance, too preoccupied with your own thoughts. But when the elevator jolted to a sudden stop, the lights flickering out, you couldn’t ignore him any longer.

“Of course this happens today,” you muttered to yourself, frustration bubbling up.

The stranger beside you was already frantically pressing buttons, his expression a mix of annoyance and desperation. When it became clear the buttons weren’t responding, he sighed heavily and slumped against the wall, sliding down to sit in the corner of the elevator.

You glanced over, finally taking a proper look at him. He was fiddling with the bracelets on his wrist, clearly trying to distract himself. His features were dimly lit by the emergency light, but you could see he was attractive in a rugged sort of way, with a familiar face you couldn't quite place. He looked up at you with a small, sheepish smile.

“Doesn’t seem like pressing those buttons is helping much,” you said, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Yeah,” he replied, his accent a smooth blend of Spanish and something else. “I guess we’re stuck here for a while. I’m Carlos, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Carlos,” you said, settling down on the floor across from him. “I’m [Your Name].”

Carlos chuckled softly, a sound that surprisingly made you feel a bit better about the situation. “Not the best way to meet someone, huh?”

“Could be worse,” you said with a shrug. “At least we’re not alone. So, what brings you here?”

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing whether to tell you. “I’m here for some work,” he said vaguely. “What about you?”

“Just visiting a friend. So, where are you from, Carlos?”

“Spain. And you?”

You chatted for a while, the initial awkwardness giving way to a more comfortable conversation. You learned that Carlos traveled a lot for his job, though he was still vague about the details. He had a love for adventure, often finding himself in unexpected situations,though getting stuck in an elevator wasn’t usually on his list.

“Do you always carry so many bracelets?” you asked, noticing how he seemed to calm himself by playing with them.

He laughed, holding up his wrist. “They’re kind of a good luck charm for me. Each one has a story.”

“Like what?”

He began to tell you the stories behind a few of them, and you found yourself genuinely intrigued. There was one from a charity event in Monaco, another from a small market in Brazil. Each bracelet had a memory attached, and you found yourself admiring the way he cherished these small tokens of his experiences.

Hours passed, and you both shared more than just surface-level stories. You talked about your dreams, fears, and the small moments that made life worthwhile. You were surprised at how easy it was to talk to him, a complete stranger. There was something comforting in the way he listened, the way he seemed to genuinely care about what you had to say.

Suddenly, the elevator jolted, and the lights flickered back on. You both looked up in surprise as the elevator started moving again. Carlos stood up and offered you a hand.

“Looks like we’re saved,” he said with a grin.

“Yeah, looks like it,” you replied, taking his hand and standing up.

As the elevator doors opened, you both hesitated, neither of you quite ready to step out. There was an unspoken understanding between you, a connection that had formed in the hours you spent together.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to get a coffee sometime?” Carlos asked, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I’d like that,” you said with a smile. “I’d like that a lot.”

You exchanged numbers and stepped out of the elevator, going your separate ways. But as you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something special. A friendship born out of a shared misadventure, with the potential for so much more.

It's short I know..if you want part 2 I will deliver it hope you liked it:3

[0cta9on]

Unlikely Duet - 5

length: +5k words

Genre: Fluff

NewJeans Minji x Male Reader (OC)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Yuno’s POV

The light patter of the rain was a reminder of how this all started. A chance encounter, a gut feeling, a gesture of kindness, all of these different choices were woven into the fabric of fate and led me here - eating dinner with Minji and her rich (and terrifying) parents. No matter how I twisted it, this is not at all how I thought I would spend my friday. 

“The rain is getting bad out there. I’m so glad we caught you before you went out in the rain, we would hate for a friend of Minji’s to get sick,” Minji’s mom remarked, her warm, motherly smile concealing something that set off alarms in my head. I kept my guard up, no matter what.

Minji sat next to me, a worried expression painted on her face. She hasn’t said anything since discovering the blood stain on my sleeve from my altercation with Tyler. I wanted to say something to her, anything, but it was impossible in this tense atmosphere. The guilt of not being able to tell her the truth was eating me up inside.

“Dinner is served. Eat as much as you like, dear,” Ms. Kim says, gesturing to the food she had set on the table. An array of different side dishes I had never seen before surrounded a large roasted fish adorned with sauce and vegetables. My stomach grumbled at the sight. It was more food than I had ever seen in my entire life, and it didn’t help that I was also starving from not eating anything the entire day. Without thinking, I quickly grabbed a little bit of everything and piled it onto my plate. Right as I was about to dig in, I noticed the shocked expressions of Minji’s parents.

“S-sorry… I-I’m hungry,” I stuttered sheepishly, earning a small chuckle from Minji. I felt the heat cover my face as her parents got their food, taking much smaller portions than I had. Right as I pick up the spoon to my lips, Mr. Kim clears his throat.

“So, Yuno,” he begins, focusing his gaze on me. “How long have you been friends with our daughter? Minji never mentioned you before.” 

Regretfully, I place down my spoon as I think of an appropriate response. “Uhh, we’ve been friends for…” I turn to look at Minji, hoping to find an answer, but her eyes are glued to her plate as if she’s lost in thought. “Three days. We’ve been friends for three days.”

Mr. Kim’s eyebrow rises slightly in surprise. “Really? And how did you two end up meeting?”

I gulped, my mind going back to the circumstances of our first meeting. Sure, I’ll tell one of my only friend’s parents that I met her in the detention room after beating someone up to the point of hospitalization. They’ll totally love me after that, right? Thankfully, I have an easy out due to Minji’s lie from earlier.

“We got partnered together for science class,” I state, trying my best to sound confident. Mr. Kim narrows his eyes as he studies my expression. I stare back, not wanting to show weakness in front of him. 

“What do your parents do for work?” he asks. The questions were starting to feel a bit too personal, but I would rather not risk going against him.

“My dad works the night shift as a security guard,” I responded. Despite seeing him passed out drunk everyday, he somehow managed to maintain his job all these years. Either that or he never bothered to tell me he got fired.

“And your mom?”

“She’s, uhh…” I glance at Minji for a brief moment, hesitating to answer. “She’s dead.” The room falls silent as each member of the Kim family looks back at me with a mix of shock and sympathy on their faces.

“I-I’m sorry to hear that, dear,” Ms. Kim says, her intimidating demeanor replaced with genuine compassion.

I shrug in response. “It’s fine, it was a couple years ago. I’m okay now.” I stare down at my plate, unable to look any of them in the eye. Truthfully, I was never completely okay with my mother’s death, but what was I supposed to do? Cry in front of them?

Mr. Kim opens his mouth to say something, but his wife stops him. “Honey, you should let him eat,” she says in a stern tone. Mr. Kim relented, and a sense of relief washed over me as I was silently grateful for her intervention. Not only was the onslaught of questions exhausting to face, but I was also still hungry. The rest of the dinner was spent in silence, aside from the clinking of silverware against porcelain and the rhythmic downpour outside.

______________________________________________________________

I lean back in my chair, completely stuffed. Every single bite of food had more flavor than I’ve ever had in my entire lifetime. As intimidating as Minji’s parents were, they were also amazing cooks. I peer outside and notice that the rain had stopped. Taking my chance, I stand up and excuse myself from the table.

“Thank you for the meal, but I should really get going now.” Before they had a chance to respond, I swiftly exit the room, grabbing my backpack. Right as I reach the front door, Minji’s voice calls out to me.

“Wait!” she exclaims, trailing after me. “I’ll walk you home.” I give her a confused look as she turns to her parents. “It’ll give us a chance to talk about the project some more. Just like you say, every second counts.”

Mr. Kim contemplates for a moment before nodding. “Alright then. Be careful, and don’t be out too late. Your mother and I want to talk to you once you get back.”

Minji follows me outside and shuts the door behind us, releasing a long sigh as she leans against the wall. “That was soooooooooo stressful. I’m sorry you had to go through all that, Yuno.”

I chuckle lightly, joining her on the wall. “It’s alright. I’ve survived worse.” We stood together in silence for a while, the chilly evening air gracing our faces, infused with the lingering scent of rain. Minji is the first to break the silence as she turns to me, a look of sadness in her eyes.

“I’m sorry about your mom. I had no idea she was…” Her voice trailed off as she avoided saying “the word”.

“It’s okay, Minji. Really.” I give her a reassuring look as we both head start walking towards my house, the gentle moonlight guiding our path. 

“She died in a hospital fire three years ago,” I began, my voice carrying the weight of the past. Minji looks up at me, listening intently. “She was a nurse. Very caring and loved helping people. Even as the building was burning all around her, she spent the last moments of her life helping people.” I fall quiet as my gaze falls to the ground in contemplation.

“Yuno…” Minji reaches out and pats my shoulder reassuringly. “I’m so sorry.”

My legs freeze in place as I turn to look at her. The chorus of chirping crickets and the subtle howl of the evening wind created a backdrop as I met Minji's saddened eyes. What was she apologizing for? The fire wasn’t her fault. It was an act of fate, a cruel twist beyond anyone’s control. Some higher power up there decided that my mother’s life would be cut short, whether I liked it or not. There was nothing I could do about it.

“Minji…” I call out her name as I unravel my sleeve, revealing the blood stain. “I got into another fight. Tyler McGraw.” I did my best to keep a straight face, but my heart was thumping with anxiety. “He was beating up a freshm… He was beating up my friend. I couldn’t control myself. I’m sorry.”

Fate has a sick and twisted way of working. It brings people together, and tears people apart. Any single one of us could drop dead without a single warning if it willed it. Our entire lives we spend making decisions that we think will matter in the end, but at the snap of a finger, all those efforts could be in vain. Yet, here I stood, disclosing my vulnerabilities to the person I expected the least. Whether this is a blessing or a curse is yet to be seen, and I’ll be damned if I don’t see this until the end.

Minji’s expression shifted from sadness to disappointment to confusion as her mind processed the information. I could do nothing but stand there, vulnerable and exposed as I awaited her response. 

She lets out a heavy sigh. “How is your friend?” she asks, her gaze fixated on the ground. Her disappointed tone felt like a knife stabbing through my heart.

“He’s okay, I think. Your friend with the glasses helped us out.”

“Danielle?” she says, looking up at me with a surprised look before clearing her throat. “Well, that’s good. What about Tyler?”

I scratched my head, averting my gaze as I searched for the right words. “He’s uhhh… He’ll be out for a few days. Maybe a week. Or two,” I admitted sheepishly. Minji pinched the bridge of her nose as I stood there like a child who was caught red handed. 

“You were just… protecting your friend. I’m not gonna fault you for that,” she says, pushing past me. I was left in shock at her unexpected understanding. “What are you standing around for? I said I’d walk you home. Come on.”

I pick my jaw up off the ground and catch up to her, leading the way to my house. We spend the rest of the walk in silence, tension hanging in the air. I stole a couple glances at her, but I couldn’t read her expression at all. Is she mad? Disappointed? All of the above? Before I knew it, we were face to face with my front door.

“This is my house,” I say bluntly.

“Okay. Bye,” Minji says with an unusual coldness, turning to leave. 

“W-wait,” I stammer, calling out to her.

She turns around, her expression blank and unreadable. “What?”

“Are we… still friends?” I cringed, feeling a pang of embarrassment at the vulnerability of the question. Minji chuckles in response, a genuine smile gracing her face for the first time in a while.

“Yes, we’re still friends, silly.” The tension in the air dissipated and my heart felt as light as a feather as a sigh of relief escapes my lips. “You’re a good person, Yuno. I just wish you would stop getting into trouble.”

“Cool. Um, good night, Minji.” I wave awkwardly at her as she leaves. “U-uh, get home safe!”

Minji giggles, the sweet sound  of her voice echoing through the air. “Good night, Yuno!” Her smile imprinted itself into my brain as I watched her silhouette fade into the night. 

I’m greeted by the dark and desolate state of my living room as I enter my house, but all of it fades away as an unfamiliar feeling of elation stirs in my chest. I trudged to my bedroom and collapsed onto my bed, the events of the evening taking their toll on me. Meeting Minji’s parents was exhausting, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t happy that she considered me as a friend. As my eyelids slowly flutter shut, visions of Minji flashed through my head, invading my dreams.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

As I walk through the door, I see my parents sitting on the couch waiting for me. I gulp as a steady tension fills the air.

“Minji. Have a seat dear, your father and I want to talk to you,” my mom says in a serious tone. A thousand thoughts fill my mind as I wonder what they could possibly want to talk about.

My dad clears his throat, his eyes meeting mine. “This Yuno boy… We don’t want you hanging around him.”

I felt my heart drop in my chest. “W-what? Why?”

“He seems… sweet, but we don’t think he’ll be of any benefit to you in the future,” my mom explains. “Once you two are done with your science project, we want you to cut all contact with him.”

A mix of anger, confusion, and sorrow welled within me. “B-but-”

“No buts, Minji. You should be grateful that we still let you talk to Hanni,” my dad interrupts. “If you want to be successful in life, you must surround yourself with those that are like minded. Frankly, I don’t see that boy amounting to anything.”

I tried to argue, but my voice got caught in my throat. It would have been pointless anyways since they never listened. Without another word, I stormed upstairs to my room.

“Minji!” I ignored my father’s calls as I slammed my bedroom door behind me before collapsing onto my bed. Why were they always like this? Why couldn’t I just be friends with anyone? Tears welled in my eyes as I pulled out my phone, calling Hanni. After just one ring, she picks up.

“Hey girl, looks like you got your phone back, I wonder who gave it to you,” she answered, giggling.

“Hi Hanni…”

“Oh no, what happened?” she asked, her tone shifting as she noticed the sadness in mine.

“I’m just so… frustrated with my parents. It hasn’t even been a full day since they’ve been back, yet I’m already so exhausted.” I snuggled with my bear plush, hoping it would make all my problems go away.

“I’m so sorry, Minj. Do you wanna talk about it?”

I let out a heavy sigh. “Not really. I’d rather forget all about it.”

“Hey, I have an idea! Why don’t we go to the fair tomorrow with the girls? You’ve been stressed enough with all the prom junk, you deserve to have a break.” she suggested.

“Ehhh, I’m not sure, Hanni. I would love to, but I’m not sure if my parents would let me go.” 

“Girl, just tell them you’re going to the library with Dani to study. They’ll have to say yes!”

I hesitated for a moment, contemplating the pros and cons. On one hand, my parents would absolutely kill me if they found out, but on the other hand, a break does sound nice. For the past couple months, my life has been nothing but school work, studying, student council meetings, and prom preparations. I’ve rarely had any time to just have fun. Steeling my nerves, I made up my mind.

“Okay. Let’s do it then,” I say, my heartbeat quickening with excitement and anxiety.

“WOOOOOO!!!” Hanni cheered through the phone. “We’ll pick you up at three, you better be ready by then.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at her elation. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Good night, Hanni.”

“Good night, girllllll.”

I hang up the phone, placing it on my night stand before falling onto my pillow with a sigh. Tomorrow would be fun for sure, but what about after that? What if my parents found out that I lied to them and went to the fair? Would I be able to live with the consequences? I shake my head, trying to dispel the worries from my mind. Regardless of what will happen afterwards, I was determined to have fun and mess around for one day. 

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

I jolt awake from an aching pain shooting down my back. My body had gotten so used to sleeping at Minji’s house that I forgot how shitty my own mattress was. Heading downstairs, I’m surprised to see my father not only completely conscious, but he was also cooking breakfast. And it smelled amazing.

“Uh, hey dad,” I grumbled, half-convinced I was in a dream.

He startles, almost as if he was surprised to see me. “Yuno. M-morning,” he stuttered nervously. “U-uh, why don’t you have a seat? I cooked up some breakfast.”

My hunger trumps my confusion as my legs carry me to the table, adorned with a traditional breakfast of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. I quickly dug into the feast, almost choking on a piece of bacon in the process.

“Slow down there,” my dad chuckles lightly. “I guess I haven’t been doing a great job of feeding you, huh.” The gloom and regret in his tone were palpable while his eyes were fixated to the floor, avoiding mine. 

I pause mid-bite to look up at him. “It’s fine. I managed.”

“It’s not fine.” Anger tinges his voice, directed more at himself than anyone else. “S-sorry, I just… I should’ve been taking care of you. Your mother’s death was hard on both of us, but that’s not an excuse for me to neglect you. I want- No, I need to make things right, Yuno. Will you ever forgive me for being a terrible father?”

A flood of emotions overwhelms me, freezing my body in its wake. After my mom died three years ago, my father turned to alcohol to numb the pain. I never blamed him for it; she was a bright light in both of our lives and her absence left us completely shattered. 

I gulped, suppressing the swirl of emotions bubbling within me. “Y-yeah, dad. I forgive you.”

A smile grows on his face - the first time I’ve seen him smile in years. “Thank you, son. I promise I’ll be here for you from now on.” A strange choking feeling constricts my throat as tears begin to well within my eyes. I rise from the table, turning my head away. 

“Where are you going?” my dad asks. “You should eat some more if you're hungry.”

“U-uh, I just remembered, I uh have plans with some friends today,” I lied impulsively. I’m not sure why I lied, but all I knew is that I needed to get out of the house.

“Friends? That’s great, Yuno. Go out and have fun, don’t worry about me.” The smile that grew on his face only made me feel worse about lying. I quickly grab a hoodie and $20 from my room, not bothering to change out of my sweatpants. Right before I leave through the front door, I turn to my dad, who’s washing the dishes.

“Bye, dad,” I called out to him, a memory of my five year old self doing the same thing flickering in my mind.

“Bye, Yuno. I’ll see you later,” he waves as I close the front door behind me.

My dad sobering up after all these years is a great thing. I should be happy for him. Yet, I couldn’t knock this strange feeling in the back of my head. I took a deep breath in, hoping the cool morning air would help clear my mind. The sun casts its warmth on my face as I begin walking aimlessly. With no plan in mind, I decided to head to the convenience store.

The familiar jingle of the convenience store door chimes as I step inside, the pungent scent of cooking hotdogs assaulting my senses.

“Good morning, welcome to- Yuno!” Winter greets me with a mop in her hand, her demeanor much more upbeat than what I’m used to seeing from her.

“Oh, hey. Didn’t know you were working today.”

“I’m just filling in for one of my coworkers who’s out sick. Are you looking for anything in particular? We just restocked on the ramen you got last time,” she offered.

I hesitated, contemplating the answer myself. “No thanks. I just needed to get out of the house.”

“Are you alright, Yuno? Did something happen?”

“No? I don’t know, I’m all conf-”

“YUNO!!”

A short figure appears out of nowhere and attempts to tackle me from the side. My instincts kick in, allowing me to dodge the attack and grab the back of the assailant’s collar.

“Who the fuck-” My eyes widen in shock as I see that my attacker is none other than Yujin. A white medical eyepatch covers his black eye, but the rest of the wounds on his face seemed to have healed overnight. “Yujin? What are you doing here?”

“He came to visit me at work,” Winter answers, mopping the floor. “It’s been a bit slow this morning, so he offered to come hang out until my shift ends.”

“Yeah, I even told her all about your epic battle with Tyler!” Yujin says, beaming up at me. I release my grip on the back of his shirt as my cheeks burn slightly from embarrassment.

“It wasn’t epic, it was… Whatever. Where the hell is the ramen?” I groan as I drag my feet towards the ramen aisle. 

______________________________________________________________

The three of us sit at a table in front of the store, enjoying the gentle breeze. Warm, spicy ramen broth slides down my throat as I finish the bowl.

“It’s such a nice day outside,” Winter comments. Her eyes are shut with contentment as she leans against the table.

“We should all do something fun since the weather is so nice!” Yujin suggests, his eyes beaming with excitement. 

With no actual plans for the day, I had no choice but to agree. “Sure. Why the hell not.”

Winter nodded in agreement. “Where do you guys wanna go?”

My mind went blank. I have no idea what people do for fun, let alone these two. When was the last time I had fun anyways? 

Yujin hopped out of his seat, a twinkle of elation in his smile. “We can go to the fair! It’s been forever since I last went. What do you guys think?”

I scratched my head in contemplation. It’s not how I imagined spending my weekend, but my life hasn’t exactly been predictable as of late. The fair did sound… intriguing. “Okay. I’m down.”

“M-me too,” Winter added. “I haven’t been to the fair since I was seven. I wonder if they still sell those chocolate chip cookies I used to love.” As if on cue, her stomach loudly grumbled. I couldn’t help but chuckle as her cheeks grew pink with embarrassment. A group of students walked past us, entering the store.

“I-I should get back to work now. I’ll text you guys when I’m done,” Winter said before disappearing into the store. 

“We’ll see you later, Winter!” Yujin called out to her before turning back to me. “Hey Yuno, what’s your number? I’ll make a groupchat with the three of us.”

“Don’t bother. I don’t have a phone,” I said before walking off. Yujin followed closely behind me, bewilderment painted on his face.

“What?! What do you mean you don’t have a phone?! How do you even live?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Never needed one,” I answered simply. It was the truth - up until now I had no one to text or call. Social media seemed like a waste of time and my dad was always too drunk to wonder where I was when I went out. 

“That’s crazy. Let’s stop by my house real quick, I can lend you my old phone,” Yujin says.

“You don’t need to do tha-”

“You helped me out twice, alright? This is the only way I can repay you, so just take it.” There was an adamance in his voice that made it difficult for me to refuse.

I relented with a sigh. “Fine. Lead the way.” Yujin grinned at me before pulling me in the opposite direction towards his house. The bright rays of the sun washed over us, filling me with a sense of calm. With how weird the last couple of days have been, it felt nice to be outside.

“By the way, my grandma doesn’t speak much English, but I can translate for you. I don’t bring friends over often, so she’ll probably want to talk your ear off,” Yujin says, chuckling to himself.

“That’s fine. What about your parents? I ask rather bluntly. His expression darkens, sending a pang of guilt into my chest. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, Yuno,” Yujin reassures me. “I lived with my parents back when I was still attending my old school. I wanted to stay with them, but they thought it was best for me to live with my grandma after they found out how bad I was being bullied. They would freak out if they ever found out I was being bullied here too…” His gaze fell to the floor and his shoulders slouched, his usual vibrant energy dissipating in front of my eyes. Feeling guilty, I place a hand on his shoulder supportively.

“Don’t worry about it. No one’s gonna mess with you anymore.” I awkwardly patted Yujin on the back, hoping it would cheer him up even a little bit. Thankfully, it ended up working as his frown was replaced with a small yet hopeful grin.

“Thanks, Yuno. I think my parents would like you.” I kept my mouth shut, grappling with the uncertainty of whether Yujin’s parents would like their son hanging around with someone who kicks the shit out of bullies just because he can. We soon arrived in front of Yujin’s house, which was similar to all the houses in the neighborhood, save for the pair of rocking chairs decorating the front porch. 

“Before my grandpa died, my grandma and him would sit in those chairs to watch the sunrise together. That’s kinda cute, don’t you think?” Yujin’s words hung in the air as he unlocked the door. I could only offer a nod as my understanding of romance and the like was nonexistent. 

Upon stepping into his home, we were immediately greeted by Yujin’s grandmother, resting in a large reclining chair. The two of them exchange words in a language I can’t recognize, and Yujin says something makes his grandma smile.

“Grandma said that you’re very tall and handsome,” he says, chuckling. A rush of warmth tinges my cheeks, caught off guard by the unexpected compliment.

“O-oh, uh, tell her I said thanks. I guess.” Yujin relays my message, triggering a bout of laughter from his grandma that eventually transforms into a coughing fit.

“Yujin, are you back alre- Oh jeez.” Danielle suddenly rounds the corner, carrying a saucer with a cup of tea balancing on top of it. Her casual attire of a simple yellow t-shirt and jeans was a far cry from the cold aura she normally exuded in her school uniform. She places the cup of tea on the table next to Yujin’s grandma before turning her attention back to me. 

“Yuno. Hello,” she greets, glaring at me through her glasses. I nod back, bewildered by her presence in Yujin’s home.

“Danielle and her mom are helping me take care of grandma. They’ve been really helpful ever since yesterday.” A genuine smile illuminated Yujin’s face, inadvertently softening Danielle’s expression. It immediately hardened as her gaze went back to me. “I just stopped by to give Yuno my old phone to borrow since he doesn’t have one of his own. Isn’t that crazy?” he explains to Danielle.

She scrutinized my expression with steely eyes, sending chills down my spine. Minji’s parents may have been scary, but Danielle was a completely different beast. “You’re just giving it to him? He’s not, I don’t know, threatening you to give it to him?” she interrogates. I instinctively rolled my eyes at her words while Yujin simply laughed it off.

“It’s the least I could do to repay him for…” He gestures to his eyepatch, cautiously glancing at his grandma, who drifted off to sleep without anyone of us noticing. Yujin’s phone suddenly buzzes in his pocket, revealing a text from Winter. “We should hurry, Winter’s shift is ending soon. Come on, Yuno!” he says before running up the stairs. I quickly follow behind him, not wanting to be left alone with Danielle.

Yujin’s room is the epitome of a stereotypical geek’s paradise. The walls are lined with a colorful variety of superhero posters, accompanied by some drawings he had done himself. On the far side of the room, a shelf is filled to the brim with action figures, fake weapons, and a single first place trophy for a “Junior Art Competition”. His desk is the complete opposite of Minji’s, half-finished drawings, eraser shavings, and colored pencils scattered along its surface.

“Sorry about the mess, I would’ve cleaned up if I knew you would be coming over,” Yujin says as he rummages through a drawer on his desk, pulling out a phone. “Here. It’s not much, but you’ll be able to call and text people, and you can download some games on there if you want.”

 It was smaller and less impressive than most phones I’ve seen people carry, but I couldn’t complain. It was better than anything I’ve had before (which was nothing).  “Thanks,” I utter as I take the phone from his hands. “I’ll, uh, keep it safe.”

Yujin chuckles as he leaves his room. As we reach the bottom of the stairs, he suddenly stops. “Oh shoot, I should probably give you the charger too,” he says before darting back to his room. I turn around to wait for him in the living room, only to find Yujin’s grandma beckoning me with a wrinkly hand. As if I was in a trance, I suddenly started inching towards her, like a snake being hypnotized by a flute. She muttered in my ear in perfect english: “Please take care of Yujin.” Her message was plain and simple, yet I was still filled with questions. Before I could ask any, however, she was already fast asleep. I was starting to wonder whether or not I imagined the whole interaction.

“What are you doing?” Danielle asks from across the room. Somehow, I failed to notice her presence this entire time.

“N-nothing, she just… Sorry,” I stutter awkwardly. With impeccable timing, Yujin appears from the stairs with a phone charger in hand, saving me from this awkward situation.

“Here you go, Yuno. We should head out now, Winter oughta be done with her shift by now,’ he says. “Bye, Danielle!”

Danielle waves at Yujin as we leave, shooting one final glare directed at me right as the door closes. I inspected his old phone, turning it around in my hand. Aside from a couple essential apps, it was completely bare bones, and even the lock screen was nothing but a plain blue rectangle.

“I should probably add your number to the group chat now, huh,” Yujin says, pulling out his phone. After a brief moment, I feel the phone vibrate in my hand with an audible buzz. A notification on the phone reads, “You have been added to a group chat!” 

“There you go! If you ever need to talk to either of us, just send a message and one of us is bound to answer!” He flashes me a wide toothy grin that I silently snicker at. A vivid memory of my childhood suddenly plays in my mind - a timid only child playing with his imaginary siblings. I never brought it up with my mother when she was alive, but I always wanted a younger sibling to play with and take care of. That want manifested itself into an imaginary younger brother that played with me when no other kid would. Of course I’ve long outgrown that phase by now, but something about Yujin is eerily similar to the imaginary younger brother I had before. Or maybe I’ve finally gone insane.

“So.. the fair. What’s it like?” I ask him.

“What?! You’ve never been to the fair before either?! How on earth are you even alive right now?!” Yujin exclaims, his eyes growing wide with disbelief. “As your friend, it’s my job to ensure that you have a fun day at the fair. Now let’s hurry up, Winter is probably waiting for us.” He grabs my arm and pulls me forward, running to the convenience store. A small grin grows on my face as the wind blows past my ears.

______________________________________________________________

“Are you two ready?” Winter asks us as she steps out of the convenience store. She’s dressed in a flowery sundress with a forest green cardigan layered over the top, a contrast to her plain work uniform.

“Yup, we’re all ready! I got some extra cash for the subway,’ Yujin says.

“Subway?” I ask. My hand shoots into my pocket, fingering the $15 I have left and regretting my decision to buy ramen that morning. 

“Don’t worry about the subway, we can just use my metrocard,” Winter says, pulling out a shiny plastic card from her purse. I let out a sigh of relief, although I can’t help but feel bad for not being able to pay for myself.

“Alright, let’s hurry before the lines get too long!” Yujin skips ahead of us with the excitement of a child bringing home a new toy, eliciting a giggle from Winter. 

The sun flashes its light into my eyes, casting its warm glow on my skin. A light fluttering fills my heart with each step, and for the first time in years, I felt hopeful for what the day would bring.

[kasagia]

Today marks ONE year of my writing on Tumblr!

And I didn't manage to finish the oneshot for our Aleksander (I'm so sorry :c ), so I wanted to at least share with you a fragment of what I will publish soon.

And thank you for all the comments, hearts and follows (THERE ARE OVER 1111 OF YOU!!!!! I can't believe it!!!!) THANK YOU VERY MUCH! I love you all! 🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵

A fragment from: "His mortal saviour" - coming soon...

The first thing he felt was warmth. The warmth, which wasn't at all in the fold. He shuddered and remembered how the cold had penetrated his body even more the moment the volcra's claws had dug into his face.

Then he felt the softness of the mattress beneath his back instead of the hardness of the sandy, packed soil. Further evidence proving that he was entirely somewhere else was the sound of soft footsteps and humming a few feet away from him.

He opened his eyes hesitantly and hissed, unaccustomed to the light after being unconscious for so long.

He freezes as he feels a hand on his eyes, keeping the sunlight from reaching them. Little. Soft. Alina... a thought comes to him, and he quickly laughs it off. His little sun summoner would probably rather blind him completely with her sun than protect him from more pain.

"Take it easy. You've been badly harmed." A soft female voice breaks the silence and pulls him from his thoughts about the woman who betrayed him and their kind.

He feels a strange rush of fear as he hears a female voice. Aleksander unwillingly recalls the memory of the time when he and his mother were captured by the Drüskelle. He felt like he did now. Helpless.

He was unable to move even a small distance on his own. The only difference was that no one was hanging over him with scalpels and other blades or hurling insults. But he suspected that could change very quickly...

He had to do something. He needed to get out of here somehow, but every slight movement of his muscles was accompanied by a huge wave of searing pain throughout his whole body. And for a brief moment, it occurred to him that maybe destroying the fold wasn't such a bad idea.

"Don't worry. I am not a psychopath, mad, serial killer, or anything. I'm a nurse. I saw you near the fold and took you to my house to heal you. It's a miracle you survived your encounter with the volcra. Usually, no one gets out of the fold. Certainly not on their own." The woman says, slowly removing her hand from his eyes.

He's too dazed by the light, busy taking in his surroundings and seeing her face for the first time, to notice that she's adjusting the bandages on his face and checking his wounds.

But he hisses, feeling the burning pain on his forehead as she rubs some thick, gooey liquid onto him.

"I'm sorry, but I have to. It's an ointment against infection. This should also numb you enough so that you don't feel any pain in your face. How's your back?"

He is too shocked to respond. As he takes a breath, he has a sudden coughing fit. She moves away from him. He hears her quick footsteps as she returns a moment later with a cup of water and a tissue. He spits something black out of his mouth, desperately trying to get some air. She strokes his back gently and leans him more forward, making him spit out all the black goo mixed with his saliva from his throat.

He frowns, staring at the tissue soaked in black liquid.

"Don't worry, it's absolutely normal. Every time they bring a survivor from the fold to the infirmary, something like this happens. The air is different there, and volcra tend to infect their victims. Let's just say it's some kind of poison that comes out of you. That's a good sign. As well as the fact that you woke up. Here." The woman says, taking the tissue from him and throwing it into a nearby trash can. He glances there, seeing that it is half full of black dressings and bandages. He looks back at her as she hands him a glass of water.

"What do you want?" He asks, his voice hoarse from disuse (or screaming in the fold), not taking a sip from the cup you gave him. It could be poisoned or worse.

"I... I don't understand." You say, confused by his hostile attitude.

"What do you want from me?" He repeats it again, and the commanding, demanding tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine.

"Nothing. I'm just helping." You reply with a shrug, which annoys him even more. He laughs mockingly, making you frown.

"Selflessly? To a stranger? Don't make me look like a naive idiot. Tell me right now who you are, what you want, and where we are, and you won't get hurt."

"With all due respect, I doubt you'd be able to raise your hand right now, let alone hold a gun or sword, or hit me, even if you were a soldier of the First Army." He stares at you in surprise, realising that you have no idea who he is, and maybe you really just helped him.

Could a normal person dare to speak back to the Darkling with such courage and anger in her eyes? He didn't think so. But one name comes to his mind... even though he's too hurt to think about her.

"What?" You ask him as he stares at you for a little too long.

"Nothing." He clears his throat and stares warily at the offered water. "Not many people surprise me." He explains, still not believing in your good intentions. You couldn't be so altruistic as to help a strange man who got spat out by the fold. People weren't kind or helpful to the weak, at least never towards him. That's why he always had to be stronger than others. To never become prey again.

"I see that you don't trust many either. If I pour for myself and you water from one jug and drink it first, will you consider doing the same? You need to rehydrate." You say it calmly, completely unfazed by his distrust.

For some reason, this makes him more surly towards you. Maybe this whole act on your part was just to keep his guard down until someone came for him, for example, Shu, Drüskelle, or even Alina's group of heroes. He had to get away from here. As soon as he regained full control over his aching body.

“Try to deceive me, and I will make sure to wipe out your family lineage to the last living generation.” He growls hoarsely, trying to regain at least some semblance of control in this situation.

"It's good that I'm an orphan then." You say, pouring him and yourself a glass of water and showing him that both are empty.

Another orphan... he thinks as you reach both glasses so he can choose which one he wants.

[...]

"You will leave me alone?" He ask. He can't believe that you would really leave him—a strange man you didn't know at all—in your house all alone.

"Do you need a company?" You ask mockingly, using the exact same cold tone of voice he used before. Aleksander decides he liked you much more when you were soft towards him.

"Aren't you afraid I'll rob you and run away?"

"There are only herbs, medicines, and a few books here. I have nothing so valuable that I couldn't get it on the market if you decided to take it. You can look around if you want. Although I wouldn't advise you to get up, your wounds are still fresh and barely sealed, so they don't bleed."

"Are you insane?" He can't help but ask, as you really are going out.

"All the best people are. Try not to die. It would be a waste of medicines and bandages." You say this and smile amusedly as you close the door behind you.

Aleksander blinks, surprised, as he lays in your bed. He tries to understand what has happened here, but he still has a headache and needs to get out of here.

He didn't trust you at all.

So before anyone could come and get him from you, he stood up. His legs are shaky at the beginning, but as he walks around your (tiny) cottage, he regains the ability to walk… maybe not as well as he did, but enough to move.

He looks around, just as you suggested, but he didn't find any proff that would confirm his suspicion. But it doesn't stop him from taking some pills and herbs before he leaves your house. He makes sure to take only a little—enough to get to the village or somewhere where he could find his people.

You were too kind to be robbed.

[ringthebethal]

EuroLove (Ch 1)

Joost Klein x UK entrant Liz

A/N: this is my first fic in a while so I'm rusty but please enjoy

Amsterdam, Saturday, 13 April 2024

Liz sprinted down the corridor of the bustling venue, her manager Sophie hot on her heels. The sound of their hurried footsteps echoed off the walls.

"We are so late," Liz panted, glancing back at Sophie as they approached a door.

Sophie swung it open, and they slipped inside just as Francis, the tour manager, was addressing the acts. He turned and spotted them. "Just in time, UK," he remarked, his tone a mix of relief and mild reprimand.

Liz offered a sheepish smile. "Sorry, my plane got delayed, so we came straight here.

Scanning the room, she noticed Bambie and Marko had saved her a seat between them. She quickly made her way over, grateful for the familiar faces.

"Got your usual," Bambie whispered, handing her a coffee cup as Francis continued with the briefing.

"Thank you, you're a star," Liz murmured back, taking a quick sip of the much-needed caffeine.

Francis's voice cut through the low murmurs. "Right, next up after Ireland is Miss Late, UK," he said, eliciting a wave of chuckles from the room. "And then last will be Amsterdam himself, Joost."

Everyone's attention shifted to the front where a tall, blonde guy stood. His hair was a mess under a sideways cap, and he wore a white long-sleeve undershirt with a pink top over it. "This is your first show, so make sure to say hello to everyone if you can. Meeting's over, guys. Go chill and get ready; you have three hours until curtain up."

Liz leaned over to Bambie. "He's kind of cute."

Bambie rolled her eyes. "You said that about Marko too."

"They are right," Marko chimed in with a laugh.

"Yeah, but you're like a brother to me now," Liz retorted with a grin. "Elizabeta is like my sister; we even have the same name."

Marko laughed. "You two are like twins. You just like blondes, don't you?"

"She has a type," Bambie added, giggling.

"Shut up, you two," Liz said, playfully hitting Marko's arm. "I'm going to our dressing room, Bambie."

——————————————————————-

The backstage area at the Eurovision pre-party show was a whirlwind of activity. Contestants from various countries mingled, producers scurried about, and the buzz of excited conversations filled the area. Liz stood quietly in a corner, trying to stay out of the spotlight. Her heart raced with nerves as she mentally rehearsed her performance, hoping to avoid any awkward encounters.

She tugged at the hem of her dress, taking deep breaths to calm herself. Just then, a lively figure caught her eye. Joost, was moving through the crowd with an infectious energy. His laughter rang out as he greeted fellow contestants, his presence impossible to ignore.

Suddenly, Joost’s gaze locked onto hers from across the room. He paused, his smile broadening. Intrigued by her quiet demeanor amidst the chaos, he decided to make his way over to her. With an easy confidence, he weaved through the crowd, never taking his eyes off her.

“Hey there,” he said, his voice warm and inviting as he finally reached her. “You’re the UK entrant, right?”

She looked up, startled by his direct approach. “Y-yes, that’s me,” she replied, her cheeks flushing. “I’m really looking forward to your performance,” he continued, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest. “I’ve heard great things.”

“Thank you,” she managed, feeling a mix of shyness and flattery. Joost’s presence was both overwhelming and oddly comforting. His enthusiasm was contagious, and she found herself relaxing slightly.

“I’m Joost, by the way,” he introduced himself with a charming smile. “Not that you wouldn’t know, but formalities, right?”

She laughed softly, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. “I’m Liz,” she replied, her voice gaining a bit more confidence.

“So, Liz,” Joost said, leaning in a bit closer, “how are you feeling about tonight? Excited? Nervous?”

“A bit of both,” she admitted, glancing down at her feet. “It’s all so overwhelming.”

Joost nodded, his expression understanding. “I get it. This whole thing is pretty intense. But hey, from what I’ve seen, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Your voice is incredible, and your performance style is so unique.”

She looked up at him, surprised by his genuine compliments. “You’ve seen my rehearsal?”

“Of course,” he said, his grin widening. “I wouldn’t miss it. You’ve got real talent, and I’m not just saying that.

Her cheeks grew warmer at his praise, but she felt a flicker of confidence. “Thank you, Joost. That means a lot coming from you.”

Joost’s interest in her became increasingly apparent. He leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “You know,” he said softly, “I’ve met a lot of people through this contest, but there’s something special about you, Liz.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, and she looked up at him, her shyness giving way to curiosity. “Special? How so?”

Joost smiled, his expression earnest. “You’re genuine. You’ve got this quiet strength and authenticity that’s really inspiring. It’s not just about your talent; it’s about who you are.”

She felt a warmth spread through her at his words, and for the first time that evening, her nerves seemed to melt away. “Thank you, Joost. That means more than you know.”

Just then, an announcement echoed through the backstage area, calling for the UK entrant to prepare for her performance. Joost gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his eyes full of encouragement. “You’re going to be amazing out there. I’ll be cheering for you from the sidelines.”

With a final, lingering look, Joost smiled at her, his presence a comforting reassurance. She nodded, feeling a newfound surge of confidence as she turned to head to the stage. As she walked away, her heart was light and full, knowing that someone as wonderful as Joost believed in her.

———————————————————————

"Hey," he said, his Dutch accent adding a delightful lilt to the word. "Great performance out there. You were amazing."

She smiled back, feeling a flutter in her chest. "Thanks, Joost. You were fantastic too."

He took a step closer, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest. "I was wondering... I mean, if it’s not too forward, could I get your number? I'd love to stay in touch, maybe share some tips on surviving the madness of Eurovision."

The reader felt her cheeks warm, flattered by his attention. "Of course," she said, pulling out her phone. They exchanged numbers, and she felt a thrill as their fingers brushed briefly.

Joost looked at her, his smile turning a bit playful. "You know, there's this great little café not too far from here. If you're not in a rush, maybe we could grab a coffee before your flight home?"

She bit her lip, considering the offer for only a second before nodding. "I'd love that."

"Perfect," Joost said, his grin widening. "I know just the place."

——————————————————————-

"Star sign?" Liz asked with a playful smile, sipping her coffee.

"Scorpio," Joost replied with a laugh. "What about you?"

"Taurus," she said, her eyes twinkling. "My birthday is the 22nd."

"Got any special plans?" Joost inquired, leaning a little closer.

"I'll be starting rehearsals that day," Liz explained, a hint of excitement in her voice. "Flying in late on the 21st and then straight to the stadium. But I think Bambi and Marko might be cooking up a surprise."

"I arrive on the 20th with my crew," Joost said, chuckling. "Wait till you meet them. They're a handful."

"If they're anything like you, I'm sure we'll get along just fine," Liz winked, her smile turning a touch more mischievous.

Joost's eyes sparkled with interest. "Well, maybe we can sneak in some time before the madness begins. I'd love to show you around."

"That sounds like a plan," Liz replied, her tone suggestive. "Just make sure you're ready to keep up with me."

"Oh, I'm always ready for a challenge," Joost teased, his grin widening. "Especially one as intriguing as you."

[lokiandbuckysdoll]

Hello my love!! Could I request a Winterfrost x reader where they are getting ready to propose but discover that reader was going to ask them first?

P.S. I LOVE YOU

~~~~~~~

Three Yes’s

Paring: Winterfrost x Reader 

Summary: A simple yes is all it takes. 

Wordcount: 1,682

Divider:@firefly-graphics

Warnings: slight angst if you squit, mixed emotions for a brief second, SMUT! And fluff!

A/N: I LOVE YOU MORE!!! AND UGH MY LOVE! I LOVE THIS!! Sorry, it took me forever to write this 😣 I hope you enjoy it!

~~~~~~~

Working with the avengers wasn’t easy for Bucky nor Loki, the job came with many ups and downs. In the end, the job was worth it as they met you, the “ sexiest dame to ever exist” according to Bucky, and to Loki, you were “ the most alluring and enchanting Midgardian”.

It took one glance at you for them to realize that you were the one missing piece in their chaotic lives.

Dr. Cho and Bruce had announced that they hired a new nurse to help around the medical bay. That’s when you were introduced. They were smitten with you from day one.

It didn't take long after you joined the team's medical facility for a beautiful friendship to blossom between the three of you. Slowly but surely you started getting involved in the team's activities more.

Movie nights, team dinners, and game nights. Anything that involved the team coming together you were there. The team grew to love you and treat you as family.

They loved how kind-hearted you were. If someone on the team had gotten seriously injured. You were there 24/7 in their recovery process.

You’d make sure they were comfortable, and go above and beyond the extra mile just to see them happy or have a smile on their face at the end of the day.

Your days were now often spent in the Medbay while the other half of it was spent hanging out with Loki and Bucky. The team soon started to notice how Loki and Bucky took a more likely to you.

Somewhere along the way though that friendship you three had turned into much more, it had a love that wasn’t friendly. You were the first one to notice you had these feelings towards the two men.

You were completely scared. You knew that Loki and Bucky were already in a relationship, and you respected and valued that. So you were just scared as to why now you all of a sudden had fallen in love with not one of them but both of them.

Little did you know at the same time they also felt something toward you. Their love has grown more and more to the point where they realized it was more than friendship love.

It only took one of Tony’s parties for you three to come out confessing the feelings you all held for each other. At first, you were taken aback because you didn't think they loved you like that.

You all chatted and understood the feelings you had for one another. A few days following the party you had your official first date. A few more dates ensure and they asked you to be a part of their relationship.

That’s how everything started from then on. There were a couple of ups and downs with them getting injured that left you worried, and a few baby disagreements here and there but nothing major. Everything was good.

This leads to now, you were celebrating your 2nd anniversary. Tony being the ever billionaire paid for a weekend getaway for the three of you to enjoy. Tonight you had all decided to go out for a nice romantic dinner.

The smell of the gourmet food hitting your nose satisfied your hunger. A smile laced your face, catching bucky’s attention.

“ I’d say your happier with the food than you are with us” he laughed. You shook your head while biting into the food. “Barnes let out queen eat in peace” Loki snickered.

“ The food is delicious” you paused to take a sip from your glass of red wine. “ you would know if you didn’t order a burger like usual” you smirk as Bucky places his hand over his heart “ Doll you have wounded me” he lead back to fake his death.

“God, I’m dating dorks” you laughed once more before turning your attention to Loki. “ How’s your meal my mischief?” Loki looks down at his already half-eaten steak. “ I find it appetizing although nothing tastes better than you” he smirked and leaned down to kiss you.

“ Loki!” you pulled back from the kiss. “ we are in public behave yourself” you pat his cheek before giving him a quick peck on his lips. "let's order something sweet then shall we?" they nodded agreement.

Loki flagged down the waiter and placed the order, you then excused yourself to the restroom. You freshen up and look in the mirror. Taking a deep breath you reach into your purse making sure your surprise was still there.

Nervousness slowly began to creep its way into you but you pushed it away. " You go this," you told yourself and with that, you walked out and headed back towards the table.

Once you reached the table you caught a glimpse of them whispering something to the waiter, when they saw you they quickly dismissed the waiter.

" Did I miss something?" you look between the two noting the atmosphere changed. Bucky was quick to respond, "Nothing the waiter just got the order wrong is all" he smiled. you simply nodded.

A few seconds of silence passed and you knew you should take this as the time to give your surprise. " So I know we're here celebrating a special day" you smiled at the both of them. "Indeed it is darling" Loki smiled fondly at you and bucky.

You were about to speak again but bucky scooted closer to you and began to talk. " Two years of being in love with you, with many more to come" he interlocked his hand with yours, " I am the happiest, most grateful, and luckiest person on the planet because of you." He brought the back of your hand to his lips and kissed it.

Loki then interlocked your other free hand with his. " Thank you for being our life companion. I can’t imagine being with anyone else." he also brought the back of your hand to his lips as well. Before leaning in to kiss you, Loki took this sweet moment to distract you from bucky.

" Thank you so much for bringing such joy to our hearts" you turn back to bucky who was now kneeling on one knee. " Our life truly wouldn’t be the same without you two and all the happiness you ha-" bucky didn't get to finish as you stood up.

“ oh my god! Wait! you're proposing?” You asked with complete shock, you looked back to Loki he was also kneeling. However, he quickly stopped himself, their faces quickly change from happy to worried at your words before they could say anything you grabbed your purse and pulled out a box similar to theirs.

" I was going to propose as well!" you put your hands on your face shaking it while laughing. " You were!" they said in sync. " Yes, I can't believe this is happing all day" you laugh some more.

" Well, there goes our heartfelt words of love" Loki snickered. Just then the waiter came with the dessert with chocolate writing on the plate that said " Will you marry us?"

" Well, what do you say doll?" ask hopefully. " YES! Of course, I will, however, will you marry me?" you then go to kneel " Yes" they said in sync again. Loki was quick though to pull you up from the ground. " Our queen should never do any kneeling for us unless it is the confines of our bedroom" he then pulled you into a deep kiss.

Before you knew it desert was forgotten and you three were back at your hotel.

Your dress is now discarded among the many clothes that sprawl the floor and three orgasms later.

Bucky was pounding into you, he pulled one of your thighs over his shoulder and the other around his waist. " Fuck doll! You're squeezing me so good!". You moaned but it was muffled as Loki was deep down your throat.

" James switch with me now, I can't hold on much longer" he removed himself from your month. They were quick to move positions. Bucky pulled out of you, then moved to lay against the headboard. " Come to your Sargent doll" you quickly moved to be between his things.

You didn't need to be told what to do, you gave kitten licks to bucky's pink tip, before deep-throating him. You could feel Loki behind you.

He gave a harsh slap to your ass before he moved to insert himself. " Fuck you feel like Vahalla" he began to pound into you from behind. His pace slowly increased. His action causes you to bring Bucky more pleasure.

" Fuck I'm close" bucky began to buck his hips into your mouth. " Me too, I can feel you y/n, let go" as if on cue all three of you came.

You pulled bucky out of your mouth, and Loki slowly pulled out of you. Bucky moved and gently pulled you to lay on his chest, you rested your head on his chest trying to catch your breath.

Loki moved behind you and pulled the two of you closer. The three of you lay there in each other's embrace. After a while, you moved to lie on your back.

You lifted your left hand and admire the ring that now sat on your finger. " Cheers to our adventure going on forever. Here’s to many more years of laughter and love together," you spoke happily as moved and gave each of them a kiss.

" You stole our hearts darling, and we never want them back" Loki kissed your cheek. " You hold a special place in our hearts" bucky kissed the top of your head.

You playfully scoffed, " I better have a special place in your hearts or I'll take my rings I got you two back'' you smiled at their shocked faces.

" That's it round five right now!" with that, you three spent the night with more orgasms and peaceful sleep to follow.

~~~~~~~~

🏷️: @springdandelixn @hannibals-favourite-meal @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @sarahrogersevans @tomandcakes @hallecarey1 @caothicshit @missvelvetsstuff @huntressandlioness1 @nana1000night @lokisgoodgirl

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

The Dragon and the Rose {Pt. 03 of 03}

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Tyrell!Reader

Chapter word count: 1.8 K

Summary: It was your first time visiting King's Landing, and you were expecting countless different things from such a journey... But you could never imagine you'd get the Prince's attention.

<- Previous part (02)

{House of the Dragon Masterlist}

The Colors of your House

You were soaking in a warm bath, looking at the morning sky through the large windows when a shadow covers the light for half a second.

But, despite your Septa's complaints as she was putting down the gowns for you to choose, you can't help but smile. It was easy to spot the rider, even though the dragon flew by at amazing speed. Daemon's eyes were fixed on you for that brief time, and you saw the shadow of a smile on his lips.

“Completely unacceptable.” The Septa was still murmuring when the maids came to help, and you stepped out of the tub and they wrapped a robe of light blue silk around you.

“That one, Septa.” You say, pointing. “The rose one.”

She nods, and the makes start the process of drying, brushing, and styling your hair before they help you put on the dress.

The rose color was mixed with gold in the patterns, forming roses all over the fabric, and you choose to put a golden, thick belt on top, around your waist. When you're ready, you sit in your privy chambers, chatting with the ladies and waiting... There was some talk of why you were so well dressed only for receiving the ladies and making merry with them - and sewing, and gossiping, and all the things you dislike -. But you know.

And twenty minutes into the light conversation with the ladies, Prince Daemon is announced. Everyone jumps up to their feet, and so do you, much slower, unable to hide your smile. When Daemon walks into the chambers, you make a courtesy, like everyone else.

“My fair Lady.” He says, walking over to you as you rise from your courtesy. “I came to take you to see the castle.”

See the castle? Well, surely there are places you haven't been to yet, given the greatness of the Red Keep. “Of course, my Prince.”

And you let him guide you through the castle, having the same, sweet conversations you always have. Daemon asks about your day, how well you're feeling here in the capital, and if everyone has been treating you kindly. And you ask him about his duties with the City Watch and give him advice about the problems he always runs into both with the council and with the city itself.

When he takes you to a litter outside the castle, you give him a puzzled look. “Not gonna tell.” He simply says, taking your hand to help you get inside the carriage.

It takes some time for you to realize where he's taking you, because when you came here some time ago, you were in a rush, not really paying attention to anything. “Daemon...” You call, looking outside through the window. The simply Prince smiles.

Once the litter stops, he helps you down. And his aid was much appreciated because your eyes were already on the dragon. “Oh!” You exclaim, a smile on your lips. “Hello again, Caraxes.” Slowly, you walk towards the beast, Daemon by your side.

The dragon eyes both you and Daemon, its huge, curious eyes moving from him then back at you. “I think he missed you.” The Prince says, just when you're near the dragon.

Caraxes lowers its head towards you, and you, hesitantly at first, tough him. The dragon seems to relax a little, letting out a heavy breath. “Nice to see you too.” You say to him, caressing the thick scales under your hand.

“Caraxes is... Very gentle with you for some reason,” Daemon says, coming to stand next to you and touching his dragon as well.

“And why would that be?”

Daemon glances at you, that never-fading smile lighting up his features. “Dragons are very intelligent creatures. They can both feel how their rider's sentiment towards people, and people's nature.” You meet his stare, eyebrows furrowed. “You're a kind woman. And I'm in love with you. So yes, Caraxes likes you very much.”

With your cheeks burning up, almost as much as the dragon, you look away. “Thank you for bringing me to see him, my Prince.”

“See him?” He chuckles. “Oh, no, my Lady.” He points at somewhere above you with his chin and, following the direction, you see the saddle on Caraxe's back. “I brought you here to ride him.”

You gasp, a smile taking over your lips as you look back at Daemon. “Is it a jest?”

“I never jest about dragons.” He comes closer taking your hand. “And I know you always wear trousers under your dresses because you have a tendency for a craving to ride off on horseback impulsively, even when you shouldn't.” He knows you well. “So, my Lady. Shall we? Dragonstone is waiting for us.”

Now you get what he meant. The castle he means to show you were never the Red Keep.

Trying not to seem so nervous, you let him help you up onto the dragon. Daemon put you seated in front of him, straddling the dragon as you do a horse. Daemon warns you about everything he remembers to. About the speed, immensely superior to the fastest horse. The wind, that whips on the face. The curves, that might make you feel like you'll slip away and fall. But he also assures you he won't let go of you and, if you're scared, he'll circle back and bring you to King's Landing.

Taking all his words in, you prepare yourself for the ride of your life... But, after the heavy lurch from the ground, when you're being pulled into the sky, above the clouds, you're breathless. You're in a dream, lost in the bluest sky you've ever seen.

“(Y/N)?” Daemon's voice brings you back to reality. “Are you alright?”

Before any words flow out your mouth, you nod. “I can't even... I don't know what to say.” You have to raise your voice a little, because the wind is wild, and you decide to let your hair down from the half bun you had, pulling the braids over your shoulder. “It doesn't seem real. It's too beautiful to be real...”

Daemon chuckles, his arms holding you tightly. “I agree. It doesn't matter how many times I fly, it never gets boring.” Then, the dragon makes a turn, and you hold on tighter to the saddle. “Don't worry. I'd never let you fall.”

•••

Once you reach Dragonstone, you're a mess as you walk the path to the castle. The place is so beautiful you feel like Caraxes brought you into something like Heaven. Daemon takes you around the Castle, showing you everything there is to show in the course of two days. He showers you with gifts. Jewels, both Westerosi and foreign, brought from across the Narrow Sea for you. And also dresses, in the Targaryan style, in the Targaryen colors.

When it's time to go back to King's Landing, you put on a red dress that leaves both your shoulders exposed and a dragon-shaped necklace around your neck.

The moment Caraxes lands, you're already missing the wonders of Dragonstone. “I hope you'll take me back there. It's a beautiful castle.”

Daemon helps you get down, and you make sure to caress the sweet dragon before walking with Daemon to your litter. “Don't worry, my Lady. I will.”

On the ride back, you exchange kisses with Daemon, because such things have to be kept secret while in the palace. That's another thing you'll miss, the freedom Dragonstone gave you to express your affections.

“Here we are,” Daemon says when you stop. The door is pulled open, and the Prince steps out before offering you his hand.

“Here we are.” You say, holding his hand and getting out of the litter... And that's when you see it.

You're right in front of the entrance to the Great Hall, which has its door wide open. The place is decorated with flowers and dragons, and there are a lot of people around, and in the Hall. “My Lady.” The Prince put your arm on his, and guides you inside.

“I... Don't understand.” You whisper.

“You will.” As you walk over to the Throne, people nod at you, staring with a new kind of... Prestige.

Once you're before the King, he gets up, climbing down to the middle of the stairs. Prince Daemons turn to look at you. “My Lady Tyrell.” He begins. “I have already spoken with both the King and your father about this, but since this match is made for my heart more than for the realm, I wish to know if you'll give me the honor of having you as my beloved wife.”

At that moment, there's no one else. No crowd of noble Lords and Ladys certainly brought here for this moment. Not the King, standing there to show everyone he approves of this match. Nobody else matters.

So, instead of saying yes, you stand on your toes and kiss him, right there before the eyes of the realm. You're only brought back to reality because the Hall erupts in cheers and clapping.

Pulling away from the kiss, you look up at Daemon. “The honor would be mine, my Prince.”

“Say what you mean.” He whispers. “Answer me, not them.”

That makes you smile. “Yes, my love. I will be your wife.” And this time, he kisses you.

“The marriage will happen in a fortnight, so the preparations must start at once!” The King says, and everyone starts moving out of the Hall, at the same moment workers come flooding the place. “And then, the Lady Tyrell shall be called Princess (Y/N) Targaryen.”

“Now I understand.” You tell Daemon, your hand on his as you walk away from the Hall. “Why you wanted me to use this dress.”

“The colors of your House.” When you turn into a hall, Daemon pulls you against his chest, using a pilaster to keep you from any curious eyes. “I don't mean to make you a Princess. Or to form an alliance with Highgarden, we already have that. All I want is you. Viserys wasn't very happy about this arrangement, but I manages to change his mind.”

“How?”

“I promised to shut myself in Dragonstone unless he wants me here... So I hope you won't mind living there.” He says, a small smile on his lips.

“As long as you're there with me, I won't mind it one bit.”

“Really? Or is it because you really liked it?” Daemon pokes your side lightly, right at your ticklish spot.

Squirming a little, you giggle. “I'm leaving my home for you, Daemon... Here, Dragonstone... As long as-”

“As long as we're together, it doesn't matter the place.”

Biting your lips, you wrap your arms around his neck. Some people pass by, but you don't mind. Soon enough you'll be his wife. “Exactly. But now...” Making a small pause, you peck his lips. “I must see my father... And the Septa... And all the Ladies. They must be joyful.”

Daemon rolls his eyes. “After the wedding, I'll need a month alone with you... Maybe more than that.”

With your cheeks burning, you take a step back. And when you make a low curtesy, Daemons bows, just as low. “I'll see you shortly, my Prince.”

“I will miss you very much, my Princess.”

@ayamenimthiriel @moonmaiden1996 @sandronebabyy @ephemeralninon @ateliersss @omgsuperstarg @stitchattacks

[tiefthieves]

Where There's Smoke, There's Fire

When Wyll had mentioned hunting down one of Zariel’s soldiers, Sikah had expected more of a challenge. She’d dealt with a handful of devils in her years and they were no easy feat. One could imagine the rogue’s confusion when the party stumbled across Karlach, the so-called “Advocatus Diaboli”, who was no devil, but a fellow tiefling. Perhaps Sikah had misunderstood Wyll’s words, for if she knew the task at hand was to hunt one of her own, she would not have agreed.

The woman seemed to pose no obvious threat and, from what Sikah had seen through their brief psychic connection, was rather similar to herself. Devils were no easy employer, with the tendency to craft fastidious agreements; and although her devilish dealings were nowhere near the hells Karlach had endured, she knew how unpleasant it was to do a devil’s bidding.  

“Remind me again why we’re helping the woman Wyll insists on hunting down?” Gale whispered to Sikah as they followed behind their party, now accompanied by the barbarian.

“Karlach is as much a devil as I am,” Sikah responded shortly. “and I know all too well what it’s like to be seen as one, to be judged by the company you keep. She’s a victim of the Blood War the same as the refugees from Elturel, and I don’t plan on letting any of my kin down. Besides, we could use the muscle.” 

The muscle was indeed needed whilst fighting the faux paladins of Tyr. Both Gale and Shadowheart’s spell-casting did minute damage as the opponents continuously cast a field of silence around them. Sikah’s arrows could only do so much against the opponents’ heavy armor and despite her dexterity, getting up close and personal for dagger attacks resulted in more detriment to her and less to the enemy. 

As she was knocked to the ground by the helm of a longsword, Karlach stepped in front of her before the paladin could bring the blade to meet her skull. The collision with the barbarian’s axe sent the opponent’s weapon clattering to the ground, allowing time for her to cleave the man’s head off his shoulders in one fell swoop. 

The taller tiefling looked over her shoulder, “Doing alright down there, soldier?”

Sikah looked up and nodded, trying her best not to stare. 

Karlach was hot. In both the objective and subjective sense. Embers licked the ends of her hair and danced across her shoulders. Tattoos of infernal scrawl wrapped around her limbs, which only tempted Sikah to stare at her muscles more as she attempted to read them. Metallic valves were embedded in her scarred skin that emitted steam in sync with her breathing, the leather of her clothing straining as her chest rose and fell. Her thighs were practically ripping the haphazardly altered seams of her pants that were held together by the mercy of belts and buckles. The infernal engine in place of her heart flickered like candlelight, causing the beads of sweat that trailed down her deep, red skin to glisten as they mixed with the blood and viscera of her foes. 

“I’d help you up but I don’t want you to burn yourself,” Karlach chuckled as she noticed the smaller tiefling’s fixated stare. “You sure you’re alright? Those bastards didn’t hit you too hard, did they?”

“No, I’m fine, just needed a minute,” Sikah finally stood up and brushed herself off. “Thank you, by the way.”

Karlach couldn’t remember the last time someone had thanked her. Hells, she couldn’t even recall the last time anyone had willingly helped her without being ordered to. War didn’t fuel much generosity, especially a war in Avernus. 

“Don’t sweat it. I’m the one who asked for your help, and I’d be quite the arsehole to let them kill you.” She reached up to wipe sweat from her brow. “It's been a while since anyone has shown any sorta kindness toward ol’ Karlach, and it feels good to be bashing baddies with someone again. It gets lonely doing all the dirty work by yourself.” 

“There’ll be plenty more baddies to bash where we’re headed if you care to join us,” Sikah glanced over her shoulder to where Shadowheart was healing Gale’s bleeding wounds. “We could use the extra muscle.”

“Fuck yes! Kicking ass, getting the tadpole out of my head, and good company? You sure know how to drive a hard bargain, I’m in!”

As they began their trek back to camp, Sikah couldn’t help but watch Karlach as she walked. The rouge hadn’t been piqued like this, in regards to someone rather than something, since her previous companion years ago. She couldn’t help but want to learn more about the infernal soldier, to listen to stories of her battles and the tales of her scars, to know the origins of her engine, and to solve the mysteries behind her fiery eyes. Maybe Sikah was being selfish by inviting the other tiefling to join their ranks, but she couldn’t extinguish the blaze of curiosity that burned within. 

[innocentlymacabre]

Dorks out of Death

15.05.23

Note: if you'd rather read the story in proper script format (like I would, to be honest), you can grab yourself the formatted PDF right here.

INT. BAR - NIGHT

A low cloud of noise disperses itself over the room. There’s a strong crowd of people clustered around the bar, vying for the bartender’s limited attention. The bartender’s species isn’t very clear. It seems to flicker from moment to moment.

Around the room, elves, vampires, werewolves, trolls, and more freely mingle, save for faeries and pixies, who sit in opposite corners of the room, occasional seething glares being cast between them. A humanoid wizard is playing with coloured fire at one of the tables, much to the bedazzlement of the more drunken patrons.

Just off to the side, two necromancers have a table to themselves, occasionally regarding the light show with passing intrigue.

MORRIGAN downs the rest of their glass in one go, signalling for another as soon as they set it down.

MORRIGAN My dead heart died again. Double dead dead.

MORGAN Hmm zombie death, yes. Very hard to circumvent. Only the most advanced of us have a chance, really.

MORRIGAN Yes, and those ones are looking for a career change right about now. It’s a stressful job.

MORGAN Come now, necromancy can be fun!

MORRIGAN Yeah, to someone watching the show, maybe. The ‘mancer is stressing.

MORGAN It’s like being a doctor but without all the stress. You really can’t do any wrong - no way to go put up. (Brief pause) Except for the soul, I guess. Hey, did we ever get that whole afterlife thing sorted? Do we know what actually happens?

MORRIGAN Oh, last I heard people were still squabbling. Baffles me that the returned just have no memory of the place though. Not important, anyway. What is important is bringing back the right soul. That is something we can do wrong. Bring back the wrong one and you gotta switch up into murder lane REAL QUICK.

A member of the waitstaff brings over the drink Morrigan had asked for. He sets it down, and looks to Morgan, silently asking if they want anything. His eyes flash a shade of deep purple for a moment before fading back to their natural whites.

Morgan declines with a smile and a slight shake of their head. They still have a drink in front of them and intend to nurse it for a little while longer. They grip the glass to punctuate their point and involuntarily glance out the window, eyeing the setting sun bobbing just above the horizon.

Morrigan hasn’t finished their point.

MORRIGAN You don’t whack ‘em quick enough, you’re gonna be the one being brought back. And then pretty soon there won’t be any ‘mancers left. Then what? Anarchy!

MORGAN Hey, hey, let’s take a beat. Mix ups are an easy enough fix. You just gotta thump ‘em in the chest and send the soul flying out. The body dies again and you repeat until you’ve got the right soul in the right body.

MORRIGAN NOT if the soul is prepared. And when you get just bored enough - maybe you’ve had a couple failed attempts, maybe you’re having an off day, I don’t know - boom! You need to be ‘manced by another ‘mancer. Nothing more embarrassing.

MORGAN Oh, only necromancer souls are prepared. They usually come back with a vengeance too. I do not mess with those, no matter how much the client is offering.

MORRIGAN What if it’s the soul of a lover?

MORGAN (With a teasing smile) A paramour?

MORRIGAN Yes.

MORGAN Love transcends all rules. Besides, why would they attack me?

MORRIGAN Hmm. Enemies to lovers to betrayal.

MORGAN Hmm.

MORRIGAN And the soul is, you know, righteously mad. You’d need a hand.

MORGAN Hmm, well I might still try in that situation. But I’d be prepared too. Ward spells, basic weaponry, that stuff.

MORRIGAN I’m thinking of getting security.

MORGAN I wouldn’t use my security on a lover though.

MORRIGAN No, of course not. I meant in general. You know the kind of shit that we have to watch out for.

MORGAN Yeah, fair play on that.

MORRIGAN I’m considering investing in the Werewolf Squad. You seen their posters? I’ve heard they’re not that stealthy though. Noise makers.

MORGAN Eh, they’re only useful once a month. What are they gonna do the rest of the time? Growl at someone until they get weirded out and leave?

MORRIGAN What would you suggest?

MORGAN I use vampires. They’re great. Down with the whole undead thing too, and can help returned souls readjust if needed.

Liking the story? Consider reblogging so it can reach a wider audience!💜 Continue reading below :)

MORRIGAN Vamps can’t help during the day though.

MORGAN I mean, these things are usually done in the night. Power of the moon and whatnot, but for break-ins and stuff, they’ve got protective gear.

MORRIGAN Hmm, I suppose. What about the rehabilitation centres? Those things have vampires too right?

MORGAN Yeah but they’re underfunded and there aren’t that many of them out there anyway.

MORRIGAN We need more people to understand that coming back might be a severely traumatic experience. Especially when they’re freshly back and they’re in that loop of reliving their last moments and emotions again and again. (Shudders) God, can you imagine?

MORGAN Oh, that would be…well, not good, to say the least. I give the more agreeable returnees the number of a vampire friend who’s volunteered to help out. The vamp gets a little blood bank and the returned soul gets a coach - it’s a win-win. (Brief pause) Unless, of course, you pick the wrong vamp and they drain the returnee. Terribly hard to bring someone back twice. Like your heart!

Morrigan ignores the tongue-in-cheek comment.

MORRIGAN Have you ever experienced a case where the vamp turned a returnee?

MORGAN You know, not yet. Wonder how they would work.

MORRIGAN I’ve only heard rumours. What would you call them? Zombie vamps?

MORGAN I don’t think returnees count as zombies though. They’re not the undead now risen, they’re people who used to be dead, brought back to life. Brought back slightly to the left usually, but mostly alright.

MORRIGAN You know I have this returnee friend (I wasn’t the one who brought her back, that was Fayhew down south, and I met her on her second time around), she needs to shake her soul back into alignment every now and again. Spring cleaning days are the worst.

MORGAN Ah, that sounds like a right chore and a half. Almost lost my soul once. Didn’t sit right for a week.

MORRIGAN Did you, like, jump off a cliff to realign it?

MORGAN Nah, it was like the cold - just had to give it time. Was about a day out from trying that though.

MORRIGAN Wait. Oh no, never mind.

Morgan pulls an inquisitive expression.

MORRIGAN I thought of “undead vampires” for their name but that’s rather chai tea, if you know what I mean.

MORGAN Yeah, no. That gives me the ick. Not sure what you’d call them. I expect the vampires would just call them vampires. They’re a surprisingly tolerant bunch.

MORRIGAN All those people from all those different times living together, I suppose you’ve kind of have to be. Plus, they get the best news and the juiciest gossip.

MORGAN Oh yes. All those detectives try to get information out of bartenders when they’re usually just elves. Sure, they might hear a thing or two here and there, but the vampires are the real ones to go to.

MORRIGAN A little vial of lamb’s blood and they’ll get drunk enough to tell you anything.

MORGAN Oh no, that’s actually a myth. They only pretend they can get drunk. It’s actually impossible ‘cuz they’ve got no blood in their veins.

MORRIGAN Then why do they frequent bars so much?

MORGAN For the social scene, of course. And to gather more intel, I guess. I know a lot of them who make a living off secrets. Trick is, you gotta have something to trade. Something of value to them. Most try offering money, but for the older ones, that doesn’t mean much.

buy me a coffee, if you're so inclined 💜

MORRIGAN I mean if you’ve lived that long and you haven’t saved anything, what are you even doing?

MORGAN Exactly. So you gotta find what your vamp in question wants.

MORRIGAN Most want their favourite designers to live a millennia.

MORGAN Yes, they are strangely particular about their style. I suppose I sympathise, though.

Morgan picks at their jacket sleeve, the denim covered with so many patches, it seems to be made up of it. They adjust the scarf tasselled around their neck to edge it back into their signature windswept, devil-may-care look. A pair of orange sunglasses rest in their hair, having only moved them from their face at Morrigan’s repeated instance at the ridiculousness of wearing them indoors.

They could just do that themselves though. I mean we can bring them back, but they’ll die again eventually.

MORRIGAN They try not to intervene with the magic of the strangeness of death.

MORGAN Isn’t that, like, their whole thing though? How else do they get new vampires?

MORRIGAN Some deaths are more absolute than others. The ones on the precipice, that’s where they shine. Crazed lovers, the taken-too-soon sick, and ironically, feverous unsuspecting victims who are not ready to die; that sort of thing. Other deaths are more absolute.

MORGAN That’s where we come in.

MORRIGAN Yes, our reach extends a little further, but if the soul doesn’t want to return, there’s nothing anyone can do. If it’s at peace with its situation, it’ll stay there.

MORGAN (Scoffs) Yeah, try telling that to a grieving family. I swear, why do all of them have guns? Do you even know how many times I’ve been shot at?

MORRIGAN Oh, them lot need a clairvoyant. Give them the number, I’ll give you a card later.

MORGAN Ah, pawn them off on some other sucker. I like your style.

MORRIGAN Oh no, I know one that’s legit. Oddly enough, her name’s Claire Vons. Those gun nuts can hear for themselves that the soul is sick and tired of their shit and wants them to leave them alone. Or the soul will return, but as a poltergeist and then the family will have bigger problems than shooting you.

MORGAN Yeah but those souls tend to be cowards, or just don’t care enough to deal with the problem. They’ll rarely tell the family that they don’t want to deal with them anymore.

MORRIGAN Nah, they’re dead. What do they have to worry about? Most dead souls I’ve spoken to don’t give a shit about the living.

MORGAN Spoken to a lot of dead souls then?

MORRIGAN Claire invites me over sometimes. Family dinner with the Vonses are fun.

MORGAN Oh, I’d love to go some time.

MORRIGAN I’ll ring you up next time I’m headed over. The Vonses won’t mind in the slightest.

MORGAN Oh, fantastic! Say, have you ever hung out with the faeries?

MORRIGAN They’re so literal. And bothersome to deal with.

MORGAN Aye, they’re a tricky lot, what with their binding word and literal deals, but if you can get the wordplay down they’re a right laugh. Great for an amazing night you’ll probably forget.

MORRIGAN I always go to a faerie speak lawyer before engaging with one. The only faeries I see often are the ones on stage. And they are a riot, you’re right.

MORGAN On stage?

MORRIGAN Talented beings. Their stories are riveting - amazing grasp over the spoken tongues. And they wield such lovely glamours too.

MORGAN I’ve found elves to be the better storytellers.

MORRIGAN Okay, the elves do actually have excellent stories, but I must confess, I enjoy the bling the faeries bring.

MORGAN Strange that creatures of truth would use glamours so often.

MORRIGAN I think people are blinded to believing what they want. Even if the truth was blasting them in the eye, they would refuse to see it. I think the glamour helps them believe somehow.

MORGAN What a paradox.

MORRIGAN I wouldn’t know. I don’t intend to get too close to faeries to find out. Not without a fae lawyer, anyway.

MORGAN Ah, well, they’re a fun lot. We go out every now and again. You can tag along if you like.

MORRIGAN Dang.

MORGAN Just be careful with what you say. Follow my lead and you’ll be fine.

MORRIGAN Not going to lie, I’m very curious.

MORGAN Just remember: if you get a little too drunk and a little too overconfident and tell someone you’re going to fuck ‘em up, be prepared.

MORRIGAN Why?

MORGAN Let’s just say you might wanna pack some sort of birth control.

MORRIGAN I’m going to carry several immunity bands.

MORGAN Most of them are fake, you know. And if they see you with one, you won’t be allowed within a hundred feet of them, so be careful.

MORRIGAN I’ll get one from a vamp friend.

MORGAN Who do you think makes the fake?

MORRIGAN (Incredulously) No way! How do you get the authentic ones then?

MORGAN Well, elves and vamps, but elves tend to generally be a little more honest.

MORRIGAN But elves aren’t exactly the most generous. I’d have to pass through ridiculous trials and tribulations and questions for them.

MORGAN Yeah, and I still couldn’t be too sure about authenticity. I learnt about immunity bands after I already made my mistakes so haven’t looked into them much.

MORRIGAN OH DEAR.

MORGAN Ah, what’re you going to do? Last I heard though, the pixies were the ones to go to.

MORRIGAN But them lot practically invented ADHD. It would be absolutely impossible to wrangle enough attention from one to get a band.

MORGAN Hey, no one said it would be easy. Immunity bands, the real thing, are very hard to make, and so very hard - and expensive - to obtain. Hey, you know, the pixies and faeries really don’t like each other.

MORRIGAN I think they just find them supremely annoying. Like, I think the more fun-loving beings like pixies. More serious beings, not so much. What’s the specific faerie-pixie deal?

MORGAN Oh, no one knows. Some ancient hatred or the other. If I had to guess, it might have something to do with the fact that pixies are devious little liars and the fae literally can’t fib.

MORRIGAN Oh, I can see that actually. The fae are creatures of truth. On the other hand, some say the pixies are behind the myths of Loki.

MORGAN Oh, to hear them tell the story, he was very real. Less of a god, and more just a cool, chaotic, disaster of a guy though. Still, the descriptions, hmm. I wouldn’t mind a piece of that guy.

Morrigan laughs. They’re well-versed with Morgan’s wants; picturing the person from the stories even without any information is easy.

MORRIGAN Okay, what kind of being would you be down to bang first?

MORGAN I mean, I’ve gotten around.

MORRIGAN Okay, let me rephrase. What beings are on your NEVER AGAIN list?

MORGAN (Without missing a beat) Werewolves.

MORRIGAN Ayeeaayyaaiii!

MORGAN Yeah, no, I’d much rather stay away.

MORRIGAN Did you not discuss cycles before trying?

MORGAN The first time, no. The second time, yes. Still not my idea of a good time.

MORRIGAN You went a second time? Dang.

MORGAN I figured the cycle was the problem the first time, so got that cleared up the second time. It helped, but…never again.

MORRIGAN Ah. I personally try to avoid sirens. The way they can lull you in?

MORGAN Kind of hot, not going to lie.

MORRIGAN You disaster.

The door to the bar opened, a low clinking coming from the bell hung over it. Morgan had tuned out the steady ringing signalling the sea of patrons going in and out, but their eye caught on the latest entrant: a man with a gruff build, even gruffer body hair poking out over his person and under his clothes, and criminally long sideburns.

Morgan gulped and downed the rest of their drink whole, setting the glass down heavily.

MORGAN Yeah, speaking of, we’ve got to go.

MORRIGAN Huh? What?

Morgan nodded to the door.

Morrigan arched an eyebrow.

MORGAN A certain werewolf just walked in.

MORRIGAN Part of the reason you avoid them?

MORGAN Yeah, and I’d like to avoid this one in particular.

MORRIGAN (Shaking their head) What did you do?

MORGAN Can we just get out?

MORRIGAN But I want to hear the stupid story!

Morgan rolls their eyes.

MORGAN Get us out of here without him seeing and I’ll give you all the details your twisted heart desires.

MORRIGAN (Gets up laughing) Come on, we can cut through the kitchen. I think a buddy of mine might be back there tonight so shouldn’t be a problem.

MORGAN (Getting up to join them) You godsend. Or I guess, your friend technically.

MORRIGAN Do you want the shortcut or not?

MORGAN Fine, fine, you’re the godsend.

↝✧↝

thanks for reading! my writing is entirely reader-supported, so I’d be thrilled if you could drop a coin or two into my tip jar!

annnnnd I may or may not slip several for-your-eyes-only stories and speculative fiction book bundles under the table as a little thanks ;)

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Image by Duc Quang Tran

[rikinikigrl229]

"Crossing Paths With a CEO: An International Love Story" Ft Niki CH:11

CH:11

Hey, fam! 👋 How's everyone doing? I'm feeling great! 😄 Just wanted to say a big thanks for all the love on my story! 🙏💖 But hey, can you also hit that follow button? It'll totally motivate me to write more chapters. 📚✍️ Hope you're all digging it! Take care and lots of love! 😘🤗

As Riki retreated from the party, his mind became overwhelmed with a flurry of thoughts and emotions. He found it impossible to focus on anything other than Lavanya. "Why can't I concentrate?" he muttered in frustration. "Why do I keep thinking about her? Are Jay and Lavanya dating? Does Lavanya really not like me anymore? Has she moved on from me? Lavanya, what have you done to me? I regret breaking up with her for such a silly reason."

Sitting alone in his office, Riki replayed memories of his time with Lavanya, wondering how everything had changed so drastically. He questioned whether he had made a mistake and if there was any chance for them to reconcile. Regret gnawed at him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had lost something precious.

Just as Riki was deep in his thoughts, a sudden knock interrupted his introspection. Startled, he called out, "Come in."

The door creaked open, revealing a young woman named Jia. She introduced herself as Riki's new secretary, taking on the role previously held by Sara, who had left the country. A brief flashback flashed in Riki's mind, reminding him of Sara's misguided advances toward him while he was still in a relationship with Lavanya. He had harshly rejected her, causing Sara to leave the country in embarrassment.

Riki observed Jia, trying to focus on the present moment. "Hello, Jia. Please have a seat," he gestured, a touch of weariness in his voice. He couldn't help but wonder if Jia had similar intentions as Sara, although he hoped for a more professional working relationship this time.

Meanwhile, Lavanya couldn't stop thinking about Riki either. "Why am I thinking about him? Does he have a girlfriend now? He's so handsome, kind, funny, caring, cute, and warm. Imagining him with another girl makes me tear up, but I shouldn't cry. He wanted to break up because he wanted to marry me, and I'm still too young for that," she reasoned with herself.

The unexpected encounter at the party had stirred up memories and emotions she thought were buried. As she mused about their past, her phone buzzed, startling her out of her reverie.

Lavanya glanced at her screen to see Riki's name flashing across it. Surprised yet curious, she answered the call. Riki's voice, tinged with hesitation, came through the line. "Lavanya, can we meet? There's something I want to talk to you about."

A mix of apprehension and intrigue swirled within Lavanya. She agreed to meet Riki at the place they first met—a small café with a cozy ambiance that had once been the backdrop of their budding romance.

They sat across from each other, nervously sipping their coffees. The air was heavy with unspoken words, both longing for resolution. Finally, Riki broke the silence, his voice carrying a touch of vulnerability. "Lavanya, I've been thinking a lot about us. I regret breaking up with you for such a silly reason."

Lavanya's heart skipped a beat, unsure of how to respond. She had carried her own regrets and questions, yet Riki's confession left her torn between hope and caution. Slowly, she replied, "Riki, I've thought about our past too. It wasn't easy for me either. But we've both changed since then."

Their conversation continued, with both pouring out their hearts and acknowledging their mistakes. Surprisingly, Lavanya found herself agreeing when Riki tentatively asked, "Can we try again? Can we be back together?"

Days turned into weeks

 and Lavanya and Riki rekindled their relationship. Determined to move forward, they embarked on a journey together, planning a trip that would take them to the breathtaking landscapes of Australia and the vibrant cities of China. The adventure allowed them to reconnect, creating new memories and reinforcing their bond.

In China, they attended a lavish party, surrounded by an atmosphere of excitement and celebration. However, misunderstandings and jealousy once again threatened to cast a shadow over their happiness. Riki, observing Lavanya engaging in a friendly conversation with a handsome young man whom he thought was just a friend, was taken aback when he witnessed them kissing each other. Overwhelmed with jealousy and anger, his mind raced with assumptions and misguided interpretations.

Caught up in a whirlwind of emotions, Riki confronted Lavanya, his voice filled with accusation. "Who is he? Why were you kissing him?" he demanded, his anger clouding his judgment. Lavanya, desperate to explain the situation and clear any misconceptions, pleaded with Riki to listen, but he stubbornly refused to hear her side of the story.

Riki, filled with hurt and confusion, left for Japan without informing Lavanya, leaving her heartbroken.

The chapter ended with a cliffhanger, leaving their relationship hanging in the balance. Would they be able to resolve the misunderstanding and salvage their love? Or would the cracks deepen, irreparably damaging what they had fought so hard to rebuild? Only time would tell as their fates remained uncertain.

[eristic-kaleidoscope]

Hacker Man Real? | Erik A | Trial 2.4 | Re: So many all the time

The longer this all went on, the more clear the picture started becoming to Erik A, even if there were still a lot of blind spots here, and boy does it not look good. The picture itself was kind of shittily drawn but still clear in what it was trying to be, at least in his mind. A deep frown rests on Erik A’s face as he contemplates all of this, glancing between Just Erika and Eri. 

But first, a brief head motion towards KOKONE.

“Yeah, I can confirm what KOKONE said about her being the one to wreck the monitors too. I was there for that, it happened like a week ago and I guess they never fixed it,” he confirms as well.

So he just let that happen, huh hcdisuhciusdh Thanks.

Belatedly, Erik A gives a nod to Arakiel confessing his own crime too, not going to hound him on it but still acknowledging it. And, well, he’d been one of the people to bring up the motive for the killer himself anyhow, huh. With a sigh, Erik A raises a hand. 

“I know I’m not especially under suspicion anyways right now, but if it helps to narrow it down, mine’s Espionage. Not gonna elaborate past that, but that’s number 6 accounted for. I only told two people here about it before now.” Oh. Well then, that had some kind of implications, but he wouldn’t be dwelling on it right now. “I never spent any points on the motive to raise it, just resigned myself to whatever’d happen, so y’know. It was pretty much just the top five shuffling in terms of order.”

He looks to AIRika for a moment as they finish what they say, a slight mix of expression on his face, especially for that last thing in particular, but after a moment… he gives them a nod. He won't interfere with that, though instead... he does have one more comment.

  “Actually, by the way AIRika, the day that you voted for aiding and abetting I also did that too, so that makes three of us. Thing is, and I’ve been open about only voting her this motive so it’s probably not surprising, I voted for singular name Erika for it, so that one correct vote has a third’s chance to be her too. If you voted for Eri, and Byrne’s pretty sure the person he did’s clear, then it’s a 50-50 between Eri and Just Erika for Aiding and Abetting too, even.” And with other theories going on between them… Hm. 

He also gives a look to Ae-ra belatedly.

“Late also but yeah, that makes sense about texture! If you want to be sure about it and fair or whatever, someone’s free to come around and check my face and arms too. Will be real, have a little bit of acne shit going on right now as is usual for me, but it’s not like I cover it with makeup so should be easy to figure out, hopefully.” HIDSUHSDIUh help. 

He glances again, once more at Erika and Eri. That last implication that Eri had made especially stands out, just as Erika’s reaction to it did, but he decides to let the other’s words do the talking here for once, given how many other people have asked them to explain themselves already. Instead…

…Man, he wishes he wasn’t all the way across the room from Azr right now, but it’s not like The best he can do is offer him a slight smile to try and reassure him just a little. 

“Good to know, then, that it was just your own guesses you were talking about, I’m glad you clarified and owned up to having some assumed shit. Most I can tell ya for the future is just to be careful about wording theories as actually knowing something,” he says with a slight smirk. Then Erik A’s eyes flick over the room for a moment, addressing everyone else too without losing his casual tone.

“Pretty much everyone this entire motive’s been having theories about who could be what, that’s literally how we’ve been voting, so it’s not unreasonable to have some personal ones, yeah?”

He looks back to Azr though.

“Dunno what the truth will end up being yet, but… If you end up wanting to do those checks, I can probably help you, assuming we’re allowed.”

That that would actually let him get close to Azr too, but he’s not sharing that reason out loud.

[darlincollins]

"it's your god-forsaken right to be loved" part 2

And I'm back! More alpha Darlin' shenanigans, this time from their POV- this part is more focused on establishing their dynamic with the pack, so not much David content in this one, but he'll be back next time in all his grumpy glory! Also I'm so sorry about the blood puns, it's very late and I'm too tired to tell how not-funny they are so... they're in there. Thank you again to @colloquialcolival for this prompt which has taken over my entire mind, I love it!!

content warnings: brief mention of quinn, mentions of blood!

------

Darlin' needed to run properly. Had been needing to since they’d seen David earlier that evening, honestly, but had been pushing down the wolf curling in their chest and pleading for space, for release, for liberty. Over the past few hours, though, that quiet growling had become a howl that was drowning out logic and reason. Their skin was itching, longing to be shed and replaced with a body more free. They were totally buzzing, watching the pack socialize around them without hearing a word and just counting down the seconds until people started to disperse so they could go.

Not very alpha-like, a nasty voice in their head sang.

Go fuck yourself, they thought right back, schooling their mind into a direction more suited to a pack alpha than the desperate, clawing urge to leave humanity behind.

As far as pack meetings where they'd had to tell everyone that an evil sadist hellbent on a very bloody kind of hedonism was roaming the streets of their city and that they were going to take it upon themselves to bring him down (of which there had only been this one, to be fair, though that was more than enough), they thought it could have gone worse. David, reluctantly true to his word, had shown up looking much better thanks to Sam's work, although he'd spent the entire meeting staring angrily at his shoes and basically sprinted from the room without a word as soon as it was over. They could understand the urge, honestly. There had been some tension and a lot of mixed feelings, too, which Darlin' had shut down quickly before they could explode. No need to push David further off the edge of the map, after all. Although maybe it had been a mistake, not letting people vent their feelings? Pent up frustration could easily lead to resentment, and that would be worse for all of them in the long run. Maybe-

“Alpha?” a voice interrupted their train of thought. Startling, they looked around with what they hoped wasn’t too wild an expression. In front of them was one of the younger pack members. Darlin’ remembered them from their graduation a few months back; they were a smart kid, and planning to go to university for computer science. It was one of their first meetings as a part of the pack proper. Great timing, huh?

“Oh. Uh, what’s up?”

The kid fidgeted nervously. “Um… is- just, are we- are we safe? Or, I mean, are we going to be okay?” Their face flushed as Darlin’ stared at them. “Not that I’m scared! I just-”

Stop. Look. Listen. Then put the pieces together and you’ll find the meaning underneath the words, said a whisper in the back of their mind that sounded like their beta. Easy enough. But the second part, the actual… fixing shit part, was still going to suck majorly.

They forced a wooden smile, or tried to, and prayed it didn't look like a grimace instead. “Well- it’s- everything’s gonna be just fine. There- you know, there’s-” Darlin’ took a deep breath. God. Why was this so hard. “Look… even if you were scared, that’s- it would be okay. You know, you’re allowed to be. And- but you don’t have to be, because we’re all… here… for each other, and we’ll keep each other safe.” It was perhaps the worst and least convincing pep talk they’d ever heard in their life.

The kid did not seem reassured. Smart, considering that sorry excuse for a heart to heart. Fuck. Where the hell is Asher, they thought, glancing around the room like he might have materialized next to them in the last three seconds before catching themself. Bad, they chided themself. Asher had a life, and they were supposed to be alpha. They couldn't keep running to him any time a pack member displayed a feeling in front of them. It wasn't fair to him, and it wasn't fair to the pack either, to claim the role of leader while also hiding and making their beta the sole pillar of emotional support for over 40 people. They knew all this. They'd been repeating it to themself for months, before and during every complicated conversation with a pack member that had had them crawling out of their skin and physically restraining themself from calling him to save them. But still. Where the hell was Asher?

“Anyway,” they said. Steeled themself to bring it all home with a sweeping, redeeming finish. “It- it’s gonna be okay, so… you don’t have to worry about this.” Still looking a little worried, the kid smiled weakly and rejoined their parents on the other side of the room while Darlin’ contemplated tossing themself into the ocean.

"Smooth talkin'," Milo whispered from nearby, shooting them an amused smirk. They flipped him off, though there was no fire in the gesture and they both knew it.

Well, at least stumbling through that interaction had distracted them from the urge to flee, at least temporarily, and seemed to have gotten them through the rest of the pack’s unofficial social time- people were starting to pull on coats and collect their bags, which meant that soon they could get out of this suffocating room, this suffocating body.

Ash waved at them as he appeared from wherever he’d been hiding away during Darlin’s brief panic, looking them over with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “You alright, buddy? That was a rough one.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s fine.”

“I can lock up here if you want to head out,” he offered cheerfully.

It was tempting. Very tempting, but… if they took him up on it, would it be like they were running away from their responsibilities? Making him take on their burdens again just because they were too uncomfortable to do it themself?

He winked at them.”Get outta here, boss. The meeting’s pretty much done anyway. We’ll talk tomorrow, right?”

Darlin’ nodded, overcome with gratitude for their beta. They made a note to give him a vacation sometime soon, waved at the chorus of goodbyes that echoed around the room as they headed out, and shifted the second they hit pavement, running in the direction of home.

It was such a relief, to be wolf instead of human, to have the run and the blurring world at the forefront of their mind instead of… well, everything else. God, what a disaster. The way they saw it, there were two problems here. One, obviously, Quinn. Pretty simple objective: locate. Kill. The only issue was that Quinn appeared to be one of those slippery fuckers who would make shit really hard for you until you finished the job. The second issue was that David appeared to genuinely believe the pack didn’t care if he lived or died, and that was infinitely more difficult. How the hell do you fix almost 20 years of abandonment issues and tense relationships?

Damn it. They were getting a headache- this was definitely too complicated a mess for them to outrun, even as a wolf. They'd talk to Asher about it tomorrow. They had meant it when they told David they weren't going to hide behind Ash's vastly superior people skills instead of doing their job anymore, but he was still their beta, and his ability to deftly navigate tangled complexes of emotions was going to make him indispensable in fixing this whole thing.

But that would be a problem for another day. It was late- nothing they could do in the next few hours was going to magically solve anything. Darlin' forced their mind blank and concentrated on the sensation of paws hitting ground, breeze blowing through fur, city lights dimming and trees growing taller the further from Dahlia's downtown they ran.

It was almost 1 by the time Darlin' made it home. As they padded up the drive, the katydids chirping in the trees fell silent, recognizing a predator afoot. Realizing they'd need to be human so they could get the house key out of their pocket, Darlin' prepared themself to shift back and feel all that noise crowding them out of their own mind again, then realized the door was already cracked open an inch. Sam really was the most wonderful man alive. They pushed it open with their head, shoving it closed behind them with a hind leg. Following the noise from the living room, they found the newborns on the couch with their eyes fixed on the television Sam had bought after they moved in- probably still watching that high school werewolf show they'd started the other night. (Darlin' had watched one episode before denouncing it as totally unrealistic, after which they'd been declared a buzzkill by both kids.)

Fred waved as they followed the faint trail of Sam's aura to their bedroom, and his own progeny lifted the bag of blood they'd stuck a straw into like a toast, barely glancing away from the screen. Darlin' nodded in their direction as well as they could while still being a supernaturally large canine, then nosed their way to where Sam was waiting.

Their mate was sitting on the bed reading, back leaned against the headboard. He looked up when they padded into the room, a small smile flickering over his lips, and patted his leg in invitation. Darlin’ eagerly jumped onto the bed, flopping down on the soft sheets and letting their head flop against Sam’s thigh. A shiver of relief coursed through their entire body just being this close to him.

“Meeting went that well, huh?” he murmured sympathetically, scratching behind Darlin’s ear with one hand. Fuck, that felt amazing. They grumbled, arching their head further into his touch. They were melting… or floating; either way, there were no more problems, no more painful conversations that made them feel like they were being strangled by their own inadequacy, no more doubts. Just Sam, and this bed, and the perfect, gentle pressure of his fingers carding through their fur.

Darlin’ waited until the buzzing of anxiety zipping through their head quieted to a low, unintelligible mumble before shifting back to human form, stretched out with their head in Sam’s lap. He put his book to the side at the sound of the magic taking hold, smiling down at them. “Feelin’ better?”

They nodded tiredly. “Thanks. For leaving the door open.”

“Figured you’d want some time to clear your head after the meeting,” he said, continuing to lightly stroke their hair.

“Hmm,” they sighed. “How were things here?”

“Business as usual. Spent half the damned night chasin’ those kids around the woods, and the other half listening to them come up with a blood-themed restaurant menu.”

“Huh. Anything good?”

“Not sure; does ‘eggplant plasma-san’ sound good to you? Or ‘chicken type O neg-gets?’”

“That’s not even a-”

“Now, don’t you start too.”

Darlin’ snickered and turned their head, catching Sam’s hand in their own to press a kiss to his palm in repentance before the two of them fell into a comfortable silence.

“Hey… thank you for earlier. For helping. I-” Wow, they really were bad at this. But with Sam it bothered them less- he wasn’t expecting something from them, he was just waiting. He would understand their word jumble for what it was meant to be, and wouldn’t be bothered by the clumsy execution. They shook their head. “Just- thank you.”

“‘Course, darlin’. The pack is family to me too. If I can help them, then I want to do that.”

They smiled up at him. “I love you.”

Sam leaned down to give them a soft kiss. “Love you too, darlin’.” He pulled back a little, considering their face for a moment before frowning in concern. “Hey. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just-” Darlin’ sighed. “I let David down before. And not just with… the Quinn stuff. But, before that. I wasn’t there. Not when he first joined the pack, and not any time after that. I shouldn’t be surprised he left.”

Sam gave them one of those looks that meant he disagreed with them. “You were only 14.”

“I had time after that to make things right, though. And I didn’t.”

He sighed, rubbing the shell of their ear gently. He clearly still didn’t think they were right, but knew them well enough to realize when he needed to change tactics. “There’s still time to do that. David’s back now. He’s here. And I never bet against you, darlin’. If you’re aiming to fix things with him and the pack, then you’re gonna make it happen.”

“You think?”

“I know. But,” Sam said, shooting them a different look- the ’lecture incoming’ face. “You’re not gonna do it tonight. You’re tired, and you need to get some rest. Plenty of time for world-savin’ and pack-leadin’ tomorrow.” He patted their shoulder until they sat up, pouting that their resting place was being disturbed until Sam scooched down to lie next to them and pulled them down onto his chest, reaching over to turn the bedside lamp off. “Let’s sleep.”

Darlin’ sighed, snuggling into their mate, trying to lull themself into it by focusing only on the sound of his heartbeat, the texture of the blankets, the… rogue vampire out there haunting their pack member… the contract to work the E&E Games they had to review… the meeting with Asher tomorrow… the-

“Hey,” he whispered. “I can hear that brain of yours turning a mile a minute. The day’s done, darlin’. You can set those worries down now. Even if it’s just for a few hours. I got you… I got you.”

And they drifted off safe in that assurance.

[jennsmischievousmind]

Lose the attitude

Pairing: Bodyguard!Rick Flag x f!reader

Summary: Colonel Rick Flag retired from Belle Reve to become a private bodyguard, easy job, easy money, not so easy client.

Warnings: Slow burn, masturbation (male), language, bad at warnings, multiple parts coming up, english ain't my mother tongue, reader is an adult fyi no age gap

Part 1

You sat there in your mother's office while she finished an important mail. She had asked you to come to meet your new bodyguard. Even though you were a grown woman, due to your mother's somehow illegal business you were to have a bodyguard with you at all times since a couple years now. Working on your phone, you didn't pay much attention at first when the door opened.

"Ma'am, your guest." mother lifted a finger not sparing a glance, letting them know to stay silent and wait. That’s how she was with everyone, busy, busy.

The atmosphere changed as soon as he entered, striding confidently in the room, imposing, your eyes widened a little. He wasn't like any of your previous bodyguard or any in the house. Tall, built like a beast, a constant frown on his face, dusty blonde hair messily sleek back. He wore a simple suit yet you could tell it wasn't his outfit of choice. With mother still focused on her file, he looked around the room to find you staring at him and you knew, at this exact moment, when his kind hazel eyes locked with yours, you knew you were in for trouble.

Colonel Rick Flag, former special forces, would fill the place of your bodyguard after a few guys were judged unfit for the job. Mother liked him right away, she was impressed by his résumé and it took a lot for mother to be impressed, the jealousy was tickling your gut.

“Do I need to know something in particular?” he asked, the southern drawl mixed with the efficient army tone was waking up something in you.

“She's a successful, witty, sassy woman with everything that goes with it.”

“Thank you mother,”

“Not much to say about your predecessors, they weren't cut for it.”

“So you are willing to have an escort?”

“let”s say I made peace with it."

“She understands now how my notoriety can be dangerous for her. She won’t be fussy.”

You tilt your head dramatically at your mother.

“I understand being a bodyguard is very different from your past career.”

“I had my share of crazy things, I’m ready for anything.”

You smirk knowing you were not easy to deal with, he was so confident you didn't want to break him yet.

“Obviously my daughter's love life doesn't concern me,” Flag resumed his attention on your mother.

“Mother, please” you knew exactly what was coming.

“Although, I would appreciate if you wouldn't engage romantically or sexually with her, you are my employee after all.”

He nodded scarcely eyeing you.

“Way to go Mother,” you stood up, leaving them discuss about his contract.

Two days later you met him for his official first day and briefing. Even though he followed you and your former bodyguard to get acquainted with your daily routine, he insisted on having a brief in your office at work.

"I need to know where you are at all times, if we have to leave a place in a hurry I don’t want any discussion," you rolled your eyes, mimicking his angry face behind his back until he turned around.

"Really?" he caught you, "It's your safety sweetheart,"

"I know the damn drill, and I’m not your sweetheart, soldier,"

“Colonel!” his hands landed on your desk invading your personal zone “never said you were mine though.”

His words rang a few times, your mind must have imagined the glint in his eyes.

“Alright, it won’t be a sinecure but this can work,” you wriggled your finger between you two, “if you acknowledge that I can actually care for myself, that this is purely a safety question, and not a babysitting.”

“Good for me, as long as I don’t have to argue when I ask you to do something..,” he paused a second, “regarding your safety.”

“Fine,” you reach your hand out, he smirked, shaking your hand.

What you failed to see all day was how impressed he was that you were so dedicated to your work at the firm while you didn’t have to work so hard thanks to your mother. Missing the grin he had when you were bossy, he also noted you weren’t trying hard to justify your place, surely your mother being the CEO helped, yet you were more than qualified for this high position. He noticed you weren’t dating anyone at the moment, as for now he didn't know if it was a good or bad thing.

“I postponed the appointment like you asked and don’t forget you have to leave at 7PM for your date at 8:30” your assistant announced.

You massage your temple, “Right, guess I have to get ready for that,” you sighed, not like you didn’t need to meet someone but you weren’t really in the mood tonight.

Leaving for your loft, Rick obviously had to be there so he waited for you in the living room, when you reemerged 30 minutes later from your bedroom he was surprised, he checked his watch, it didn't take long he thought.

A different lipstick on, a different dress. And what a dress, “Shit,” he whispered when you came stumbling in while slipping your heels on. Rick caught himself staring while you put your earrings on, the satin material following the curve of your body, your nape exposed, a few baby hair escaping your hairstyle.

“Don’t stare, soldier,” an amused look met his serious one. “I’m ready,” you hide a sigh in a little smile, he strode ahead you before he could caught himself slacking while looking at you.

10 minutes in the stylish restaurant, in Rick's line of sight from the bar, he eyed your surroundings while you mindlessly; boringly swirl the wine in your glass for what felt like forever.

After 20 minutes more and no call or messages from your date, and a few drinks in, you look at Flag who was already watching you, he understood, slowly making his way to you.

“Let’s go,” you sighed, removing the napkin from your laps.

Flag took out his phone ringing your driver. Waiting outside the restaurant, Rick behind you while you held yourself, it was nice to be out at night that you couldn’t tell otherwise.

“There you are,” you flinched at the loud voice. Rick was immediately beside you, his shoulder past yours, holding up his hand to the man coming way too close.

The guy chuckled “Wow, it's okay man, I’m her date.”

You furrowed your brows at the audacity.

"Was." your attention resumed to the traffic, grateful Rick reacted fast. Besides this latter was astonished by your calm, he glanced at you, in case you wanted him to move.

"Oh come on, that’s rude,"

At that you saw red, turning your full body to him, Rick stepped aside still keeping an eye on the guy.

“Who do you think you are, making me wait half an hour and now calling me rude." you scoffed “I knew it was a waste of my time.”

Rick internally cheered for you, clearly it wasn’t his place to intervene as long as the guy didn’t touch you so he watched as you roast his ass. The car arrived just in time as you ended your speech, the driver opened the door, not wasting any more time you got in the Berline.

“Stuck up rich bitch” the guy grumbled, your head whipped around just in time to see Rick landing an upper punch to the guy’s jaw, yours falling open at the sudden burst of violence from Flag.

The guy fell over on the pavement, holding his face. Rick's chest was puffed out, anger written on his features.

“Flag, get in the car please.” he looked at you, you insisted widening your eyes.

The driver started the car, not worried at all about the incident.

“It wasn’t necessary,” he stayed silent for a while

“I don’t get it.” his voice hoarse as he hadn't spoke all night, “How did he land a date with you, that asshole?” he gestured back with his thumb.

You smiled sadly not answering “I should’ve known better anyway, I’m still my mother’s daughter. I will have to handle assholes.”

“You don’t have to. I’m here for that, kind of.” you smirk looking down

“Having said that. Punching a guy just for an insult, that can't happen again.”

He looked at his red knuckles “I might have overreacted.”

“Might uh?” he smiled, it looked good on him. “But I mean it, don’t do that again, unless I’m in real danger or some serious situation,”

On the way home, you opened a bottle of wine. Didn’t have to be a lost evening all the way. The ride home was quiet save for the low hum of the car.

“Where are you going?” he followed you through the patio where you abandoned your shoes, to the pool on your balcony “It’s late, you should..'' you stepped down the pool's stairs still completely dressed “.. go to bed. The fuck y/n,”

“I’m fine Flag,” you chuckled at the way he said your name with a tint of exasperation.

You let yourself float for a minute enjoying the warmth and the sound of clapping water surrounding you. Got to admit you were a bit tipsy, Rick saw that at your frown as you stepped out. Not liking the cold air on your wet warm body, the shiver a proof of it, slowly making your way to the bay window you suddenly sneezed, the force and tipsiness making you stumble backward.

“I’m tired,”

He sighed coming to you, “No shit, can I carry you?”

“Watch your language soldier,” you pointed at him, he gently nudged your finger away from his chest.

“Look, we both need to sleep” he urged, you nodded agreeing “And I can’t let you out there in that state,” he added, you felt guilty of taking his time and acting like that.

“A’right, right,” sniffling you tried a step forward but he swept you off your feet, earning a gasp from you, grasping at the lapel of his suit, you felt little and awkward in arms. Embarrassed you didn't say anything more.

“There,” he firmly put you down at the edge of the bed, you wobbled a bit and glared at him for being so harsh.

“Thanks,” you clumsily searched for the dress’ zip on your side for a minute “you can go ..” a soft towel landed on the bed next to you. You look back up the zip already forgotten, that’s when you realized his state.

“Shit, you’re soaked!” you look at your feet, a puddle forming on the wooden floor then at him again, the water from your clothes evidently transferred on his white shirt and dark vest. He had no time to say something you were already fumbling with his shirt’s buttons, “You’re gonna catch something”,

He grabbed your wrists gently. “Y/n,” you realized what you were doing seeing his exposed chest filled with tattoos.

“Fuck,” you whispered “Shit, fuck, I’m so sorry,” retrieving your hands you cover your face.

“It’s okay, not the first time,” he smirked, “And I know it wasn’t ill intended,” you choked at the idea of taking advantage of him.

“Do you need anything?” he asked removing his wet vest leaving him in a wet white shirt still widely open to his sternum, his tattoos visible through the wet material. He rolled back the sleeves waiting for your answer. You gulped at the sight of his muscular upper arms and dreamy huge hands, his veins slightly showing up your eyes followed them languidly.

“Don’t stare, sweetheart,” his husky voice invaded your cloudy mind, hazel eyes locked with your guilty ones as soon as the needy cloud lifted. You stood there, drenched on all level, falling for your hot new bodyguard, him looking at you like a stuck prey, you could feel your breathing accelerating.

The atmosphere shifted with him snapping out of it, his brows furrowing. “Goodnight,” he mumbled, going for the door.

“Hum,” you look everywhere but at him “G'night,” the towel looking so interesting as of right now. Stealing a last glance at the door, you caught his piercing look as he closed the door.

“I’m in so much trouble,” you thought out loud, heading to the bathroom to splash some cold water on your reddened face.

You’ll never know he had to take a cold shower to get a grip on reality after that. It was like déjà vu, falling for his mission, he thought he knew better. But the way you looked, delicate then badass at the restaurant, he wanted to join you at this table, for him no women looking so gorgeous should have been waiting. That's why when the asshole insulted you he snapped. And then you started the show, the way you looked in that pool, then soaked in his arms.

His head lolled back under the water spray, as he reminisce the desiring gaze you had on his body making him feel so warm and confident, his hand slid other his swollen cock, the more he was thinking about you, the worse it was. He couldn’t think of you like that, even more with his boss, your mother, explicitly made it one of the conditions on the contract. And yet, the lust for you tonight was too much, he swore under his breath using his hand to get rid of the ache, promising himself it was the first and last time he thought of you while jerking off.

As if it was this simple.

MASTERLIST

Don't forget to double tap if you liked it. Thanks for reading the first part of Lose the attitude.

I had a 2-week training course for my job, I became a station attendant, so I didn't have much time to write. But I'll get back to it very soon. 😉

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Rating: T+ for blood, language, nudity, and horny

Warnings: Implied pain/blood kink

Summary: Local vampire tries to give her human soulmate a bath, but the human is feral and loving it. Then it gets a lil horny, to both of their frustration.

Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring

2: Bloodbath, Baby!

“I take it you changed your mind about the clothes? Or am I supposed to use these towels like a makeshift toga?” You asked, glancing around the bathroom, eying the ornate tub with mild interest. This certainly wasn’t where you had expected Cassandra to take you, especially not when she had somewhat promised you garments to wear. There were no pants or shirts (or even dresses) in sight, just a rack of the softest looking towels you had ever seen. It was admittedly difficult for you to resist the urge to use one to wipe the blood off of your shoulder. However, you figured that it would be best to save that for after you were given a good behavior prize. After all, it was much more fun to be a bastard if your “victim” (not that Cassandra really counted as that) knew how polite you were capable of being, and you were, under normal circumstances, very polite. Most of the time. Maybe.

“What did I say about talking?” Cassandra snapped at you, glaring at you from her perch on the counter. She was sitting on the edge, waiting for something, occasionally eying the room’s entrance.

“You told me to shut up for ‘five minutes’. It’s been eight, at the very least! I’ve been holding back, just for you, babe,” you replied, smirking as you did. For a moment your soulmate seems to consider chucking a bar of soap at your head. Eventually she thinks better of it, opting to roll her eyes at you instead. “For the record, I did count, just to be sure. Wouldn’t have wanted to make any assumptions about the passage of time, considering how fast time seems to fly when I’m with a loved one.” Unfortunately, this does not get a rise out of Cassandra, who has shifted to face away from you. Not yet willing to give up your buffoonery (and assuming that you would not, in fact, be getting a good behavior prize anytime soon), you released a loud, exaggerated sigh, before switching tactics.

Standing up with the blanket still curled around yourself, you maneuver over to the tub, eagerly climbing inside. With how large it was, laying down was fairly easy, though you weren’t entirely flat. Wanting to be as comfortable as possible, you adjust yourself and the blanket until it covers you, while letting one end go behind your head like a pillow. It’s nowhere near as nice as you had hoped. On the plus side, however, is the attention it gets from Cassandra. Before long she’s standing adjacent to the tub, staring down with an expression of exasperation.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She asked.

“Napping, obviously. Care to join me?” You answered, without hesitation. Then you gently pat the blanket, as if offering to let her sit on top of you. This only serves to make her angrier. Now she’s leaning over the basin, bracing one hand against it, her other hand reaching to grab your throat and pull you towards her. The two of you are so close that you can’t help but blush, and the feeling of her skin against yours is weirdly attractive. “I should have known you were the kinky type. Not that I mind,” you murmured, gaze wandering a little farther south than her lips. Before you know it she’s shoved you back down and let go of you. She shakes her hand a bit, like she’s just touched something gross, but you see the pink rising on her cheeks. As much as you want to tease her, the sound of approaching footsteps takes priority. Soon the door is opening, revealing a stressed servant, a pile of clothes in her arms. Suddenly you’re glad that Cassandra pushed you away, considering you don’t think she would have enjoyed having someone walk in on the two of you in that position.

“Lady Cassandra, I have what you requested. Would you like me to draw a bath for you? Or-” she pauses when she sees you, clearly unsure of what to make of your behavior. Hell, she almost drops what she’s carrying, and makes a soft ‘oh’ sound. Presumably dying inside, Cassandra quickly takes the bundle from her. Then she stands between the two of you, blocking line of sight, looking as tense as could be.

“Just get back to work, and don’t mention this to anyone,” she growled, gesturing towards the door. As soon as the maiden closes it behind her, Cassandra is turning back to you. “Get rid of that stupid fucking blanket or I’m forcing you to wear wet socks.” Understandably, you start giggling at her request, hardly able to believe that she had really just said those words out loud. “Would you prefer I cut up the soles of your feet? I’ll heal long before you do, asshole.” Now that makes you pause, trying to figure out whether or not her threat held up. Even though everyone had a basic understanding of how blood bonds worked (the less romantic, and more historic, way to refer to soulmates), the specifics were confusing for most people, including yourself. Would your aching wounds bother her? Or only the initial injury?... Somehow you had a feeling you’d figure out the answer within the next few days.

Until then, you decide to err on the side of caution, for once in your life. Still, you roll your eyes before you pull the blanket up and out of the tub. Again you spot a faint rosy tint on Cassandra’s face, and her gaze most definitely lingers on places other than your eyes. In the end you have to bite your lower lip to stop yourself from calling her out on it. Gotta get some clothes first, you think, then back to being a dick. Holding back only gets harder from there.

Wordlessly, Cassandra takes a seat by the front of the tub, where your feet are propped up on the edge. Giving you a judgemental look, she pushes them aside so she can reach the controls knobs easier. You give an exaggerated pout in response, only for her to ignore you completely, trying very hard to look anywhere but at you. It was in stark contrast to how she had looked at you a mere half an hour earlier. There were several interesting things to note about her behavior, and you found yourself almost excited to figure out the puzzle she presented. Did she care about you now? Simply because of your blood bond? Did she have a genuine soft spot for romance?... Those sorts of questions were all you could think about, even as Cassandra turned the handles, letting cold water splash into the tub.

“I’d say ‘fuck you’ but honestly, were I in your position I would likely do the same,” you said, shivering a little. Cassandra raises an eyebrow, staring at you like you were stupid, before turning the handle a bit more. Eventually you figure out what she meant by it. “What, you guys don’t have a quality water heater? This is Romania for fuck’s sake. I would have figured the water would be a hell of a lot hotter by now,” you added, only for her to splash some still very much cold water on your face. “Is this fun for you? Are you enjoying this? God, I hope you assholes have Legos somewhere in this maniac menagerie, so I can step on them while you sleep.”

“Do you always spit in the face of kindness?” Cassandra asked, moving towards the other end of the tub as she spoke. Once more you laugh, though this time it’s much more of a hollow sound, and your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “My sister wanted to kill you, but I pulled your pathetic corpse out of the basement, now I’m letting you use my bath, and you’re mocking me. This is why I don’t bother with this shit,” she growled, even as she wets a washcloth and starts dabbing at your wounds. On one hand you understand her frustration… but on the other you couldn’t get the image of her past victims out of your head.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather be clean than not,” you started to say, pausing to think for a moment. Then you reach out, putting your hand over Cassandra’s, making her freeze in place. It’s soft enough of a touch to surprise her. Which is why it’s so easy for you to snatch the towel from her hands. “You ‘don’t bother’ with this ‘shit’ because you’re a fucking sadist, who thinks all humans are beneath you, who acts like she has every right to bleed innocent people dry, who thinks she’s God’s gift to this goddamn hellhole we call Earth. Do you think this makes up for your sins? Do you-” her nails dig into your arm and she grits her teeth in pain- “think that I can forget listening to the screams of your victims? Whose graves is this castle built upon? Whose fucking bones am I standing on? Who died to keep you alive? How many other versions of me have you killed, in other timelines, in other lives, where the universe didn’t demand that we be together? I’ve seen your heart, girl, and it’s as raw as they come.”

There’s a brief second of intense, furious eye contact. Then a flash of movement, a rush of pain, tears filling the corner of your eyes. Blood pours from the new hole in your shoulder, but Cassandra is quick to lick it up. She’s groaning in between each run of her tongue across your skin, clearly feeling it every bit that you were, yet she shows no signs of stopping. If anything, her pain seems to spur her on harder. Even you can’t help but blush a little as you struggle beneath her grip. Why did vampires have to use their mouths? Why couldn’t they get blood transfusions, like the rest of society? This way, your pleasure mixes with your misery, leaving you confused, and the fact that you’re still naked is not at all helping.

“Oh fuck off, please,” you gasped, trying to push her off of you. To your surprise, she does as asked, pulling away after one last lick. When you turn to look at her, you see your blood covering her lips and dripping down her chin. “You’re a mess, Cassie. Hot water?” With that you return her favor from earlier, splashing some of the (finally above room temperature) water in her direction. Most of it misses her. A few drops, however, do manage to hit their mark. Then she’s wiping her face on her sleeve, scowling the whole time. There’s still plenty of blood on her face afterwards, but it’s nothing compared to what’s gathering on your shoulder. She eyes the wound, nostrils flaring briefly, a predator dying for one more bite. “If you bite me again, I swear to whoever that one lady y’all worship is, I will bite you. My teeth aren’t made for that shit, but I don’t care. We’ll both be miserable and that’s it, baby! That’s love! I’m threatening you with an unhealthy perception of affection, dipshit!”

This time you expect her to move away, or hit you, or do anything other than what she does. Calling your bluff, she moves around the ever-filling tub, pausing to turn the water off, before hiking the edges of her dress up and… oh. Oh. Somehow she’s in the tub with you now, legs on either side of your waist, presenting the side of her neck to you with a knowing smirk. But you are not known for your cleverness. Nor your ability to make good decisions, at that. Perhaps your blood loss was starting to affect your cognition. Whatever made you so feral, so beautifully unhinged, you embraced it with utter glee. Soon enough your teeth find themselves on Cassandra’s throat, digging in enough for you to feel your blood bond reacting. For a moment she stiffens in response. Then she relaxes, even takes in a rush of air that sounds oddly content, leaning into your touch. What the fuck? You think, almost shocked enough to let go. Almost.

“What’s the matter, pet? I thought you wanted me to know what it felt like on the other side of things?” Cassandra teased, voice quiet and low. Something about her tone sends a familiar, although unwanted, feeling to your core. Still, her words egg you on, and you find yourself biting harder, tugging at the skin a little. More tears gather in your eyes, but you fight through the pain as best as you can. You drag your teeth across her skin, wishing for sharper canines, before letting go to inspect your work. There’s a clear outline where your mouth had been, but not a single drop of blood. Frustrated, you go back in for seconds, choosing a different spot to target. Again you go through the motions, only for no crimson to stain your lips. This cycle repeats several more times, with you running your tongue along her neck in between bites, so focused that you don’t realize that she’s grinding against you until she stops.

“I need to file my teeth,” you mused, trying to forget about what you had just done. Now that it’s over, Cassandra seems to feel the same, and she quickly climbs back out of the tub. She’s refusing to meet your gaze, instead focusing on arranging the clothes the servant had brought earlier. By the time she’s facing you again her blush is almost entirely gone.

“Finish cleaning up, then bandage yourself and get dressed. I’ll have a maiden wait outside to bring you back to my room. Don’t even think about trying to run,” Cassandra said sternly. You’re too distracted by the thought of what happened to give her any snarky response. So she simply nods to herself, then leaves, slamming the door behind her. Though you had expected to be relieved by her absence, you find yourself groaning, holding your head in your hands. Why is she so attractive? This is probably illegal, you think, in at least several countries. Or it should be, at least. Now that she’s gone, there’s nothing to distract you from the price of her attention, with your shoulder and neck aching horribly. Cleaning up was going to hurt even worse. Still, you think, at least I’ll have some time to think of new insults. With that in mind, you begin to wash away the blood, thoughts entirely consumed by your newest ‘partner’.

[bluecookies02]

Dabi x Reader- I Run To You /nsfw/

warnings: praise/degradation, sex oriented quirk?(meaning succubus-ish!Reader), choking, overstimulation, squirting, pinning/slightly obsessed reader.

The reader becomes a villain-->brief mentions of blood, mentions of Touya's "death".

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Maybe you're supposed to feel some sort of remorse when you see your childhood friend on the screen, blue flames hugging every corner of the building he's in, the poor glass shattering and melting as the reporters hurriedly fly around to catch every evidence and information they can.

You couldn't see much of his face, but the way he carried himself and the exact patterns of his scarred arm were enough for her. You only needed one glance.

It took a few months for you to wrap your head around it. Trying to push down the anger and grief by finding excuses for whatever he's doing. You became obsessed though, super fixated on every last trail of him you can find.

Years went by fast. Gaining the trust of other villains was fairly easy when you share the same hatred for the heroes. It brings you a sense of belonging and they listen. They listen and feel your anger, understand loss better than anyone else you tried to talk to before. You don't receive stupid condolences and bullshit like "it gets better" or "that's what faith had in store for you". You get raw emotion, telling you exactly what you yearned to hear, finally knowing that you're not crazy and that there are people who have enough braincells to see through the terrible facades the society has been smearing over everybody's eyes.

It's hard at first, watching blood and flesh rip through the air you breathe as your shoes leave red trails that follow your step...until they don't...they get mixed and lost and the footprints you once knew were yours look foreign, you don't know where you came from, you just know where you're headed.

You come back to your small apartment almost every night, writing down and scribbling each piece of information before it has the chance to be forgotten, intent on not letting a single detail slip.

You find it bizarre. You wanted to be a hero. For as long as your memory goes, you admired and glorified the kind and selfless faces you saw on TV, and in your own house.

He wanted to be a hero too? Even more than you. You're close, just a handful of months and you'd earn yourself a place. You know it.

Would he remember you?

Your pen breaks under the pressure of your palm, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You stack the notebooks neatly, locking your door before plopping on your pillow.

All of this for a boy...how silly of you...Would he be happy to have someone familiar next to him?

You feel lonely...You miss the comfort of the past and you wonder if he does too. Did he even like you back then? You dig for every memory of him smiling at you, gracing your hand while the two of you played the games on his computer.

Then your eyes wander to the pictures on your wall, collages of newspapers with his face on it. He aged like fine wine. Strong and handsome. His hands are something you can't look away from, his long fingers keeping you in a trance while you snuggle under your blanket, slipping your hand in your shorts. Just this time.

You bend your legs at your knees, head craned to look at the pictures on your walls, mouth loosely open. You take your time working your clit, imagining how he would do it. How he would take his time exploring you after not seeing you for so long.

Your ass bucks off the bed a little, humping against your fingers, almost dipping into your greedy pussy, ghosting over the slicked up hole and spreading the nice coat of the slimy wetness across your folds.

Would he be good at eating you out? Stretching his scarred jaw to fit his mouth over your cunt and lap at it, sticking his tongue out as far as it can go.

You stretch your shorts to fit your hand in, pressing two fingers on each side of the sensitive nub, using your other hand to flick at the exposed pearl. It almost burns from the pressure, too sensitive when it's not hidden under the thin layer.

What if he had his tongue pierced? Imagining the metal on you, swirling over every inch, digging into you as it bumps your clit. You can't make yourself wait anymore, pulling your shorts down and pressing your knees to your tummy. Like he's there in the room, giving him a perfect view of your dripping hole, untouched and clenching around nothing as you trail your finger across it.

You slip two of them in, too horny to drag it out anymore, you start pumping them in and out of your pussy, convulsing and shivering each time you hit that spot while you arch off the bed. Your other hand works your clit, chasing the trashing of your hips while your drenched cunt pools around your fingers, the sound making you high. It's wet and erotic, your palm slamming against your other hand, the rhythm on your clit rushed and messy, interrupting the pace you need.

You imagine his skilled fingers on you again, precisely circling your swollen nub as he stuffs you with his cock, his hot breath on your neck while his dyed hair tickles your face, wet kisses adoring your skin as he's about to stuff you full of his cum, press your legs to your stomach until they feel like they're gonna break. He'd try to go deeper than possible, holding your neck so that he can kiss you properly as your bodies rock the bed.

He'd cum first, seconds before you just to make sure that you milk every last drop as you cum and pulse around his shaft, your pussy gripping and sucking him in while he still balls deep inside you, groaning into your mouth.

The sensation of him shaking against you sends you over the edge, your breath being knocked out of you as your thighs flex and clench together, squeezing your hands and trapping them in place.

You're gasping for breath, eyes closing and ears buzzing from your high, light thrust against your clit coming to a stop as you slowly calm down.

Bliss washes over you as you lay there for a bit, chest rising and falling, your body completely relaxed.

You hope it'll all turn out to be worth it and joining the League would just be another step from many to go. Yet you still hope that your feelings were mutual back then. You experience loss too early in your teen years and a lot has changed since. But one thing was constant, you never stop loving someone even after they're gone, and Touya is the biggest proof of that.

You still had his books, pens, shirts and all of the notes the two of you passed around during dinners or classes...and you held onto them long before you found out he was still somewhere out there.

He was stoic and cold most of the time, his affections looked calculated, keeping you on the line throughout the whole friendship, not letting the two of you slip into a relationship. Pausing his flirting as soon as you seemed to get your hopes up.

If not a relationship, you want closure, and you want him, in any form you can have him.

_______________

Slowly you wake up to a pattern of knocks on your bedside table, not having the time to panic or get scared as you're slipping away from your dreams.

When you finally do see a tall white-haired man next to your bed, you raise your hands up in defense, heart skipping beats and toes curling as you back away to the headboard.

"Quiet a stalker aren't you?" Red eyes pierce through you, your quirk activating for a split second until he grabs a hold of your ankle with four fingers.

"You know what the fifth one does...so behave nicely, I'm not here to kill you" You look around the room, avoiding the uncomfortable gaze of the leader.

The shame of your interior upsetting you more than the initial fear of getting murdered.

"How did you get in?" Your locks are too good to be broken down, your alarm system expensive(but stolen) and working perfectly.

A purple portal flashes in the middle of the room. Well not so perfectly, you figure.

"I won't snitch on your obsession cause I couldn't care less, I want you in the League. Pack your shit or run." Your eyes are wide open, watching as the man slips into a portal and disappears, the purple mist still glowing in front of you.

You hurriedly grab a small suitcase, stuffing everything you know is important, already having some luggage packed in case you had to move fast for whatever reason. It comes in handy being organized.

You hide the newspapers you took off your walls, slipping them between your clothes and zipping the suitcase. First impression matters, so you risk wasting a bit of time to pick out an outfit, making yourself look presentable before you slip into a mellow cloud, dragging your stuff with you.

Your heart is pounding, blood rushing to the tips of your ears and the pads of your fingers, pulsing and warming you up.

The leader greets you again, grinning as he leads you to a room, telling you to make yourself at home.

"I wanted to give you a roommate, but that would be distracting" he teases, his teeth still showing as he closes the door behind you. The room is warm and surprisingly not messy at all. Yes, some things are carelessly tossed on the bed or draped over the chair but everything else is neat. You figure out fairly quickly that it was probably occasionally used.

You take your time to explore the room, piling up the stuff that wasn't yours in one corner of it. You unpack one of your suitcases and half of the other, cursing yourself for bringing the evidence of your little plan.

You don't know why you brought it, it seemed useless after you found out where you're going, but you guess it's for sentimental reasons. You didn't plan for it to happen so fast. But they were indeed a bit low on numbers after recent attacks so they must've gotten impatient and started seeking out more people.

You did do everything in your power to get noticed so you do want to take some credit. You smoothen out the sheets before you sit on the bed, thighs rubbing together from nervousness.

Is he on a mission?

How can you play it cool?

What's his favorite food now?

What are his interests?

Does anything make him particularly happy...maybe a hobby?

Should you try using your quirk to lure him in?

Does he know you exist?

Will he recognize you?

Would he remember you even after you tell him?

Maybe you shouldn't tell him.

You stop before you get too deep in your thoughts, deciding that you should make yourself comfortable. It's very likely that he's not there anyways, and he might not even show up soon, sitting there all alone is just making you more anxious.

You decide to leave the room, curious to meet other members that you heard in the hallways a few minutes ago. They were all headed to the same place, so you decided to go to what you figured was the living room.

The smell of alcohol got stronger, and the small giggles and banter got louder. You fixed your clothes one last time before opening the door, seeing the all too familiar faces in the room.

A blonde-haired girl ran to you, almost tumbling them both to the floor as she giggled excitedly.

"I was dying for more girls in this dump, they all stink" she whined, sniffing your shirt. She was grabbed by the collar by the boss, his pinkie up as the girl huffed.

_________________

So that's exactly how you met everyone, sitting on the bar as you silently wished the last member showed any desire in greeting you. He was sprawled out on the sofa in the far end of the room, a beer in hand and a cigarette in his mouth. You've never seen someone so unapproachable before, and it had to be him of all people.

Yet you didn't take it to heart. He was always like this...well minus the alcohol. New people didn't phase him, even more, he hated new. You're not worthy of his time until he deems you as so and you figure he never met "you" before.

But you do glance at him. The whole fucking night, chatting with others but always slipping and almost getting caught. They pointed it out but you just brushed it off as being curious to why he doesn't look like he's enjoying himself.

Even tho, you can practically feel his gaze on your back each time you turn away, feeling flustered you sip on your drink through the night, blushing when you catch him averting his gaze.

He is intrigued, to say the least. The way you move and talk is intoxicating, your voice feeling like something he had forgotten a long time ago. It reminds him of his past and it makes him fairly angry...but it brings some form of comfort he didn't feel in a while. He'll be selfish enough to indulge himself.

And he does. Months. Seeping into years.

________________

Missions are exhausting, so far you've been on more than you could bring yourself to count. On the run for weeks with little to no rest wasn't the luxurious lifestyle younger you dreamed about.

The comfort of the not so soft bed never felt more heavenly than now. A cheap motel wasn't your form of rest either, but you had to deal, hopping in for a not so relaxing shower with water that jumped from freezing to burning hot every second, tho it did an amazing job on easing the coil in your stomach.

Your quirk is taking a toll on you, control over it fading away as soon as you are laying clean and fresh on the bed. Too much...You were working too much and just teasing the victims never seemed to satiate your quirks' hunger. You second guess your path a lot, especially when you end up alone and exhausted, but you never think about quitting...as weird as that feels. It has its perks you guess...

Him being your partner wasn't one of them. He's practically eating you up, showing off in front of you but ignoring you all the same. You feel like crying from frustration, huffing to yourself before digging into your backpack and grabbing your small toy. It's been a few weeks since you could indulge yourself, the tension of your muscles painful.

Tears are almost freely rolling down your cheeks, your quirk making you feel dizzy as you slip the toy against your clit.

His voice is rough and quiet in your head, the conversations you had playing on repeat, searching for anything that you might've missed.

Every time you thought of one, it was followed by a memory of him pushing you away, smirking before going to do his own thing. He always had a smart mouth, flirting with you but making sure to step right off when he feels like he's dancing on that line.

You bit back equally though, returning the snarky comments and putting up a tough facade all while you tried to cling onto every thread of hope he threw your way.

He was almost sure he heard you though, his real name followed by a muffled cough as you tried your hardest to drown it with small talk. A moment of pure joy after you both made it out alive and safe made you let your guard down.

And when he called off the rest of the mission for the day out of nowhere, you were almost sure too.

But he isn't here now. He didn't follow you, and you're certainly all alone in this empty room. He'll come around...or he'll leave in the middle of the night. You wouldn't be able to blame him for either.

He's in the room right next to you, his fist wrapped tightly around his cock and his eyes squinted shut. He knows exactly who you remind him of, knows exactly what he felt as soon as you joined. You were always similar to her.

Awfully similar.

He knows.

It doesn't feel fair. Not to you or him. But he can't think. He can't focus and he can't stop himself from moaning out your name as his cock slicks up with pre-cum, his other going to his balls and squeezing them lightly.

He feels drunk, even though he didn't drink...well more than the usual amount... his body is burning like it's on fire...which isn't a foreign feeling to him. But it's different, the blood in his veins is warm, surging to the tips of his hands and toes as he fucks into his own fist. He's almost in a haze, fighting the urge to get up and slam your door open. If he runs away now, you'll be safer, maybe quit the League if he's lucky.

But he can't win, messily pulling his pants up and slipping on his shoes, grabbing your door handle in less than a blink as he tries to go back one last time. He has a primal need that pulls him towards you, even when he's not in the same room, it urges him to reach out and chase you, grip on the last straw of sanity and happiness that happens to be you.

Your toy buzzes faintly, sweat gracing your body while you so desperately try to cum. You're too sad and it doesn't help in reaching your high at all, but if you don't do it you feel like you might explode. He knows and he doesn't want you. You wasted your life away. You deserve it for being a creep.

He opens the door cautiously, feeling his cock pulse against the loose buckle. The lamp highlights your tear-stained cheeks and it's criminally hot, illegal even, making his toes curl.

You notice him immediately, dropping the toy on the mattress and using the sheet to cover as best as you can.

"I can't believe you" he whispers.

"Please..." you whine, drinking in the sight of him, wiping the tears with the back of your hand. To leave or to stay...any of the two.You know desire when you see it, praying that he came to quench it.

You're so desperate, craving him, letting go of your quirk and sending hormones to clash and bite against his skin.

You'll lie if you have to, say how you couldn't control it for a second more.

Nothing matters now when he's crawling up your naked body like a starved man, ripping the sheets away, digging his nails into your sides as he ravages your skin like it's the sweetest thing he's ever tasted.

And it probably is, the soft nibbles turning rough and hungry as you struggle to hold one, tangling your hands in his hair. You try to pull on it, yearning to kiss him and pour everything you feel against his lips, even if you're just a fuck, you need him to know that you never forgot him.

He doesn't budge, instead, he makes quick work of his pants, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

The room is too warm for you, the air too thick to breathe. You don't know if you want to stop and talk first....maybe you'll have the chance later?

"This is your fault" he huffs, slipping one hand to his boxers to ease the tension, gripping his cock tightly. He'll have to rush it, groaning when your legs subconsciously twitch and spread to let him fit in between.

"I feel like a fucking teenager" he argues, cupping your pussy and hunching over you.

He's missing a few steps, but seeing you so desperate and aching to cum urges him to help you out first.

"Since when did you start luring me in with your stupid quirk huh? Part of your little plan?" he questions, not letting you answer.

You're shaking your head, trying to mumble how you never tricked him into wanting you, not until this exact moment. But words are not your friend right now.

His eyes pierce through yours, beautiful blue swallowed up by the black of his pupils, half-lidded stare stripping you naked. Bare and vulnerable as your back arches, ghosting his fingers over the right spots and making you moan out a soft "Dabi".

It doesn't sound right on your tongue, and he sees the way it rolls off your lips, strained and dishonest.

His large hand wraps around your throat, holding you in place as he works the small bud, lowering his lips dangerously close, whispering across yours.

"Don't close your eyes." he demands.

It's in his arms reach, and everything is so close to making sense. If you look at him, he might start feeling like himself again. One of his fingers slowly dips inside your warmth, dragging the pad of it gently while he presses his thumb against your clit.

Your soft lips fit on his, your hands pulling him in by the back of his neck. He wants to make it slow and romantic, a nice reunion, yet he lets you slip your tongue in his mouth, deepening the kiss.

He's not holding himself up anymore, his body's weight shifting onto you with each thrust of his finger, the clacking sound of your pussy urging him to move even faster, make you feel even better. He adds in another one, watching you mewl and relax.

"That's fucking right, you wanted it, you fucking planned this, you sick fuck" he muses, catching you off guard. There's something bittersweet in the fact that he'll never be able to leave every little aspect of his life behind.

Before you even try to mumble something out, his lips are slamming against yours, teeth clashing and pulling on your soft skin.

You clench around him, riding his fingers greedily and roaming your hands across his back, fisting and gripping at his shirt.

You can feel the blood on your tongue, hissing when he pulls out only to slap his palm over your clit, causing you to yelp and pull away from the kiss.

"Touya, listen-" He shakes his head, nails digging into the flesh of your ass.

"You little stalker...how much work did you do for this cock huh?" he presses against you for good measure, making you feel his hot length on your cunt.

"You have no fucking idea" you snarl, gaining some of the confidence back, wiggling from beneath him.

He kicks his shoes and boxers all the way off, getting on your bed and pulling you to him.

His shirt is thrown messily to the edge of the bed, his hands pressing on the small of your back so that you can tower over him, trapping him between your thighs as he leans against the headboard.

Your ass slides over his cock, your hips moving slowly while he trails your figure, gliding his warm fingers across your thighs and up to your breasts.

Both of his hands cup the soft mounds, eyes glued to yours as he sticks his tongue out of his mouth. Hypersensitive to every little touch, your body shivers as he takes gentle, almost there swipes across your nipple, moving his arms back to your sides while he slips the sensitive bud in his mouth.

He lowers his thumb to your clit, flicking it slowly while he nips at your tits, biting and sucking marks across the smooth skin. His cock hooks and prods at your hole each time you both sway against each other, teasing you until the knot in your belly becomes too tight, skin crawling with pleasure wherever his body meets yours. He can hear your breath hitching in your throat, grinning while he speeds up the work on your clit, patiently waiting for you to start arching into his hand. He's gonna make you feel so good...convince you that chasing after him was the best decision you made in your life. Make up for all the years you had to deal with everything on your own.

He can feel your pussy clenching around the tip of his cock, making him push up in one slow and deep motion, immediately feeling the spasms of your soft walls gripping tight around his length. You let out a shaky breath, riding out the first high that finally satiates your quirk if only for a bit, making you drop your weight on him.

"There we go...Feeling better?" the ground might swallow you up, but when his hips start to lazily buck into you, you get distracted...You didn't notice how full you are, every inch pushing and stretching perfectly. You realize his finger never really stopped, only slowed down while he built up the agonizing pace he's bouncing you on.

You know your quirk makes you needy, but it makes everyone even more so, the realization that he probably feels like 9 circles of hell causing your hips to move, meeting his thrusts more roughly.

His head moves back to the headboard, eyes glued to yours as you ride him, propping yourself on his shoulders.

He ignored the burn of his body, too intoxicated and keen on making you feel better to focus on his aching cock, getting drowned in pleasure now that he can experience everything clearly.

You're beautiful.... and he wants to break you, make you blabber his name as you cling to him like he's the only one that can make you feel good. And he's gonna make sure he is. He admires you for a moment, cheeks heating up while watches your tits bounce, your eyes averting under his stare.

Your world turns upside down, your head sinking into a soft pillow as your legs are pushed as far as they can go.

You're scared to look away now, his gaze never breaking when he starts plowing in and out of your cunt, slamming his cock all the way in with each thrust.

His feet dig into your mattress, making the cheap bed creak.

You don't know where to put your hands, switching from the sheets to your thighs.

"Dumb little whore...is this all it takes?" he moves lower to you, pressing your spit coated lips against his.

You manage to hook your arms around his neck, swinging your legs behind his back.

He's plowing too deep, his navel bumping against your clit. He can't make himself pull out at all anymore, stuck on humping inside your pussy, slamming and angling his cock until you cry out.

Panting and groaning against your lips, he manages to slip a few curses, hissing when he tries to stop himself from cumming. Your quirk is cruel.

His fingers tangle in your hair, holding you still as he bottoms out completely, feeling his cock throb and spill, your walls tightening up against his shaft as hot cum paints them white.

He's high and addicted, already fucking his cum deeper, making sure it goes into every little crease and pore it can reach. You slip your fingers to your clit, trying to get yourself off while he rocks both of you.

"You wanna cum? Wanna milk my cock again huh? Want me to knock you up?" He's stammering it out, words spilling from his mouth in a rush, feeling the burning of his sensitive head as he picks up the pace again, slapping your hands away.

He raises just a bit, pressing one of his large palms on your belly.

His other hand slips to your clit instead, circling and flicking it to make you reach your high before he fills you up again.

Your whining does nothing to slow him down, his motions too rough and almost painful, your cervix bruising up when he presses even harder on your tummy, making your hips buck off the bed.

"Want you to cum...want you to make a mess..." he urges, a low rumble in his throat.

You can only nod, grabbing both of your thighs and spreading them further for him, your pussy open and on display to him to watch as it hugs his cock, slick and dripping.

You have to close your eyes, too embarrassed as you feel the burning sensation surge through you, eyes watering from the pressure as you finally let go. Your whole body tenses up, a low scream slipping out of your mouth when clear liquid splashes over your thighs and stomach, leaking onto his cock.

"Fucking hell" is all you can hear before he stuffs you full again, this time dropping onto your chest as his knees and feet numb out, hot breath tickling your neck as he moans against your skin.

Your weak hands slump on his back, muscles relaxed and barely working.

Someone is supposed to say something...minutes passing by quickly.

Your tired voice fills the room, a soft "Touya..." reaching his ears as you trail off. You're not sure what you wanted to say, but he holds you a little tighter, heart beating faster at the sound of his name.

He kisses your cheek softly, snuggling into the crook of your neck. "Fucking creep".