#being able to swallow without Any pain is an absolute treat.

[orcelito]

I keep swallowing just for the simple relief of being able to swallow without pain. It's really the simple things, sometimes

[lunarflux]

I liked the way you explained Aemond and his approach to a relationship, it's an interesting take! But then do you think that, if he fell for someone, he would genuinely love that person back or it would inevitably be something he'd be able to walk out on if prompted? I'd like to think he would genuinely love his partner, but what are your thoughts?

Also do you have any headcanons you'd like to share for how Aemond would be in a relationship/how he'd approach starting one?

I guess it would depend on how he defines love. I think it would only come out as what the rest of us would define as love if his possession of this person is challenged. If his ownership (I say in a kind way, not like he sees this person as an object, but their connection to him as his possession) is threatened, then he would for sure show some kind of affection in the more classic sense. It might be in the way that only fear drives him to outwardly show emotion.

For some of these things, I have a hard time explaining and can only do it through really outrageous quotes from books that haven't been written yet.

If his definition of love is "you are mine and mine alone, should anyone touch you or threaten you, I will have their head," then it's love.

His love may also be "all that I love, I earned and it is owed. All of me you possess though I owe you nothing because you will only take me as I am."

It could also be "I have my enemies, and I have those who fear me. Be the one who respects me without fear because I chose you above all others."

"You will be the one thing I possess that will not be taken from me. Try as they may, and they will die trying."

"I claimed you, and you accepted me."

"I have seen your worth. You are worth the little of myself that I am willing to sacrifice if only for the sake of my own peace. It is the kind of peace I cannot find elsewhere."

As for headcanons, um.... No, not really. I think Mysaria's personality might be the closest to what would ease him towards a relationship, but I don't think he'd ever trust her. This isn't a shameless plug, but I wrote my OC as someone who I thought would be remotely close to what I feel he'd want. Someone who satiates him physically and knows what he wants without asking. She does not ask for him, but answers when he calls. She doesn't bow unless it's required of her, and she isn't afraid to remind people of their place no matter how high they are above her. And when presented with the idea of being possessed, she fights back because she wants to be able to choose who she gives herself to and not because someone demands it. In my fic, when Aemond finally "claims" her, he tells her that he has chosen to suffer with her than alone, and she can either bear the burden of knowing how painful emotions are by his side or do it alone. I even had problems writing him being jealous because when you're absolute in your bounds to someone, there's little that can shake you.

Edit: I didn't answer that last question properly LOL okay, headcanon Aemond approaching a relationship...

A lot of looks. Subtle looks. Glances. Reading the person's facial cues, seeing what he can figure out just based on physical reactions and less about what they say. It'd be the slowest of slow burns. I almost want to say it's a matter of who caves first. Who is willing to say "I want it" and go for it. I don't think it'd be him either. He's probably find it intriguing if that person approached him without directly asking for anything.

But once they connect, I imagine he'd be the type to almost ignore them afterwards. Like, let's see if this was a one-off or will I eventually want more. Aemond swallows his emotions, so he'd have to reaaaally want it. Like a treat dangled in front of his face, how long can he resist before he needs a fix.

After the initial moment, he'd start to weigh out their worth. Are they only worth a night in bed or are they worth more. What can he show, what can't he show. Will he show if they show first. What's tempting him, why is he tempted. Will the temptation end after another night. What should he do if he craves more. What will he lose and what will he gain.

[distort-opia]

We constantly talk about how joker wants batman to understand their roles in the universe and kinda break the 4th wall like he did

But if that happens, what then? Would that change something in their relationship? Would that bring any sort of satisfaction from joker? How would it change things?

Oh, this is a very interesting question. Though I don't know if Joker truly wants Batman to break the fourth wall in the same way he does, since that's simply not who Batman is. In my understanding, Joker wants Batman to recognize how much he needs Joker as a counterpart, to admit the fact they're inescapably connected; he doesn't want Batman to usurp his own role as cosmic trickster. As usual, Joker wants and doesn't want to win. He needs Batman as he is and victory would mean Bruce ceasing to be exactly that.

But what would happen if Bruce got some awareness of the fictional nature of their world? God, that'd be so difficult for him. Even though he's had encounters with Fifth Dimension imps like Bat-Mite and Mr. Mxyzptlk, who tried to warp reality and treat him (and Clark, most often) as fictional characters in a story, manipulated for their own enjoyment, there were still ways to defeat these entities and regain free will. Hell, Bruce has faced plenty of gods and has even been one at some point, has confronted the idea of fate and of incomprehensible amounts of power multiple times, but it was always something within his own reachable world. If Bruce realized he's trapped within a narrative with absolutely no way of controlling his own fate, and that the death of his parents, his suffering, other people's deaths and pain, all of it is for the entertainment of an unreachable audience... that'd certainly be a very difficult pill to swallow.

While Batman's foundational belief is already that yes, maybe things don't have an inherent point, but that we create our own meaning, that's when one has that capacity to begin with. If the meaning you create is one dictated by someone else, what then? Joker's reaction is to embrace the absurdity as part of his madness and keep on living, but I don't think Bruce would be able to resolve it like that. It could go different ways... him trying again and again to enter our reality and failing, rightfully assuming he's being written that way. Him assuming he's going crazy and that perceiving us as the audience is a symptom of it, or that someone is attacking his mind. Him trying to live with it and this being something that brings him and Joker much closer, since they'd be the only ones to perceive this truth about their reality. Him having this knowledge erased so he can keep going without breaking down, him ending his own life over it.

Either way, it might not even bring Joker any satisfaction at all; it might terrify him if Batman validated this fleeting perception of unreality, that he most often buries. When Joker's fourth wall awareness is brought up, it's more often framed as him wanting to see it as a part of his insanity (there's a bigger meta I wrote on this here). Joker himself doesn't want to think there's absolutely no meaning in his world; he prefers to frame it as madness, and fixates on Batman as his life's point because otherwise there'd be nothing to stay alive for. So if Batman showed up and was like "Did you know we're both fictional characters??" Joker would probably be like "SHUT UP NO WE'RE NOT. That was supposed to be just me being crazy, you're not meant to see it too!!"

In the end this is a very interesting question, Anon. It would make for a fascinating story premise (which would be all kinds of philosophical and meta). Thank you for the ask!

[thedreamlessnights]

I've found hope in a heart attack

{chapter one} - {chapter two} - {chapter three} - {chapter four} - {chapter five} - {chapter six}

Viktor x Fem!Reader Modern AU (Eventual NSFW)

Synopsis: You and Viktor have a much needed discussion. It leads you to places you never thought you could go.

Warnings: here we go - general NSFW content, masturbation, teasing, oral (female receiving), the tiniest mention of overstimulation, fingering, protected sex, and a shitload of sexual tension.

A/N: I seriously cannot thank everyone enough for the support on this fic. You guys have been the absolute sweetest to me. I do want to say that this is my first time writing anything like this chapter, so I hope it lives up to expectations. There is one more part after this to come.

Word Count: 6.4k

The first thing you become aware of is Viktor’s hand on your thigh, freezing cold. Then the ringing in your ears fades away, the windshield wipers coming to the top of your hearing.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

Your mouth is dry. You swallow hard, slowly realizing you’re shaking.

“Yeah, I…. I think so,” you manage. “You?”

“I’m fine,” Viktor says, the steadiness of his voice calming you a little. “Though, if you feel able, we should probably pull off the road.”

You look up and realize that you’re sitting in between two lanes. Thankfully, the road is deserted around you.

“Jesus Christ,” you hiss, hesitantly trying out the gas pedal. The car seems to be running okay, smoothly pulling over at your will. You put it in park, trying to recover. Neither of you seems to know what to say.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, tears stinging at your eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Viktor says firmly, giving your thigh a light squeeze. “It could have happened to anyone.”

You want to be home - not the cabin, but your apartment - safely buried under the blankets. Far away from this place. Panic slowly fades to numbness, your breathing going steady.

“We should probably get going,” you say, taking back the wheel. Viktor doesn’t seem to have any objections to that, but he’s also not speaking. He’s probably thinking about the conversation you’d had before you spun. You don’t even know how to get back to that; what on earth to say. Eventually, he drops hold of your leg.

It’s not much longer to get home, but you drive slowly, not eager to repeat your experience. Your entire body seems to be wired, tense - as if all your muscles are being strung together and then yanked, blocky and painful. You can’t wait to get home and take a warm bath. Wash away the fear and the panic, and the awkwardness that now sits between you and Viktor.

The two of you trudge slowly inside, hanging up your coats. Viktor makes his way over to the kitchen, setting his cane down on a chair and leaning against the table, and you start heading to your room before you stop in your tracks, stuck on the things you want to say. Then you turn to look at him.

“You asked if I wanted to come without Jayce,” you start off, slowly exhaling. “I - I wanted to cancel at first, honestly. I was… nervous about spending time with you.”

“Nervous?” Viktor repeats. “Why were you… nervous?”

Taking in a shaky breath, you place a hand on the wall for support. “Sometimes, I wonder if you don’t like me very much, Viktor. If the only reason you spend any time with me is because Jayce wants you to, and he’s your friend, so you do.”

Viktor looks absolutely bewildered at this. “Can I ask why?” His voice sounds strangled.

“When I first met you,” you start slowly, “you treated me differently than you do now. Like it hurt you to be around me.”

As soon as you say that, his expression immediately changes from bewildered to - understanding. Like he knows exactly what you’re talking about. Emboldened by this reaction and still bursting with adrenaline, you continue.

“You didn’t talk to me, Viktor. Only when you had to. Then one day it was like it’d never happened, and I never knew why. I couldn’t understand it. I always wonder if you silently hate me.”

“I -” he starts, then with a shake of his head trails off. “I promise you I do not hate you. I’ve never hated you. But… I’m sorry. You’re right - the way I acted then, I shouldn’t have. I was…” He stops himself like he’s hit a block in his brain, breathing heightened.

You wait a moment before responding. “You were what, Viktor?”

There’s a beat before he responds, exhaling slowly from his nose. “Perhaps,” he says, voice riddled with emotion, “we shouldn’t talk about this now. Neither of us are in our right minds after the ice.”

You won’t accept that. “Tell me what you were going to say,” you plead. “I deserve to know. Please.”

A dam seems to break loose in Viktor’s head. He pinches the bridge of his nose, giving a sigh. “I was jealous,” he finally says, and for a moment, you forget to breathe. “When I first met you, I… I thought you and Jayce were - together. And… I liked you. I was jealous.”

You can’t seem to find air, slowly sinking down onto the couch as he talks.

“I must admit, I’d never experienced this sort of dilemma before,” he continues. “I thought it would be easier if we were distanced, if I wasn’t around you as much, so I… essentially ignored you, when I could. Not that it helped, but it was the only thing - sparing me. When Jayce brought Mel in, I realized I’d been mistaken about you two. That I’d let my own emotions consume me without a full look at the facts.”

Your legs have begun to shake, a leaf in the wind of Viktor’s words. He’s resorted to rubbing his temples as he talks, gaze fixed down on the floor.

“When I finally realized my mistake, I could only hope that I could somehow fix what I’d done. I didn’t want to believe my own reality, so I acted like it had never existed. I couldn’t find it in me to tell you how I felt, believe me, I - I… tried. Eventually, I moved on, hoping you wouldn’t notice. It was an insult to how smart I know you are, but… I didn’t know what else to do.”

He glances over at you, presumably to see how you’re taking this, then leans back, drumming those damned fingers over the table. “As time went on, I thought that perhaps it had been erased, but Jayce had taken notice of my behavior. You were right to think he was pushing us together - that was fully his intent, if I know him half as well as I think I do. I also believe that he’d planned to cancel on us the whole time, just to see the two of us together. You were right. I was tempted to back out when I saw what he’d done, but… I couldn’t resist spending more time with you. I’m very sorry - for everything. You deserve none of this.”

It takes you a moment to gather yourself before you can respond. You have to get up and pace back and forth for a moment, ending up a few feet away from him. “Do you still like me like that?” you choke out.

Viktor’s jaw tightens, not daring to meet your eyes. “I can assure you,” he replies, voice unsteady as he leans forward on his cane, “that it won’t be a problem. You’ll never hear about it again if you don’t want to. But, if you don’t want to work with me anymore, I understand.”

There it is. A reason. You’ve been searching for a truth behind his eyes for so long, desperate for any reciprocation even with no hope, but here sits something you’ve wanted for so long. Something you’ve ached for in long nights, something that’s pained you for ages - and you’re scared. Fear is flooding every single inch of you, driving you insane. There has never been a better time to say what you feel, and it’s never been harder to do.

You inhale quickly, throat tight, your chest heaving. Now or never.

“Viktor,” you start slowly, trying to find the next words. “I’ve liked you like that from the moment I’ve met you. If you really want me, then…”

You look at him for any reassurance, but it seems like he’s frozen, a statuesque state of mind. “Then,” you continue, “I want you, too.”

There’s a beat of silence, sitting thick between the two of you. Like so many times before, your fight or flight kicks in. The moment he steps forward, you’re turning to leave - but he gets there before you, his arm circling around your wrist. You could pull out of his grasp if you wanted to, but you just go still, waiting for him to say something.

You expect his touch to burn you, but the sensation is much softer than that. Instead, it’s relief, a fire slowly warming you from the inside out. When he doesn’t speak, you turn to face him. Just like his touch, his eyes are hot with an intensity you’ve seen so many times before. Anger, excitement, frustration - they all light the same way.

“You feel the same?” he murmurs, so close to him that you can feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek.

“Yes,” you reply, feeling like the air has been sucked out of the room.

Viktor seems to debate something for a moment, his gaze flicking down to your lips. “Please tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, sounding absolutely tortured. You keep quiet, tensing as he puts a hand on your jaw. Then, very slowly, his thumb runs over your lip.

You’re barely able to think anymore - only your want is motivating you, grasping onto his jacket, a hand tangling into the soft strands of his hair. Things you’ve dreamed about for months. “Kiss me,” you whisper, barely believing this is real. How can it be when it’s him, and he’s beautiful, and wants you back?

Instead of obeying your proposal, Viktor tilts his forehead against yours, taking in a shaky breath. “I don’t know how to allow myself the things I’ve wanted for well over a year now,” he says softly.

“Let me help you,” you reply. Then, without a second thought, you tilt your lips into his.

The kiss is slow at first, experimental, like you’re testing the waters, but it doesn’t take long for it to deepen.

As if all the ice you’ve known has cracked and fallen away, every inch of your body seems to be on fire, the heat of Viktor’s touch stoking the flame. He’s holding onto you, one hand cradling your jaw, the other placing itself on your waist. You end up clinging onto his shirt for dear life, which proves to be a mistake when both of you nearly topple over. Instead, you pull him to the wall and lean against it, sighing as his lips trail down your jaw.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” you say. Your brain doesn’t seem to have a filter anymore, melting into his actions like butter.

“I think,” he says, sounding winded as he noses against your neck, “that I have a very good idea, if my feelings are any reference.”

He goes back to what he’s doing after that, ghosting his breath over your throat, feathering kisses along your collarbone, and, very gently, he begins to nip at the skin.

A whimper escapes you, which only seems to encourage him as he trails down lower. He’s just met the area where your dress meets your chest when he suddenly freezes, eventually sighing and resting his forehead on your sternum.

“I don’t… have a condom,” he says. “Do you?”

You could curse yourself right now - how fucking stupid had you been to take out the condom in your suitcase? It’s not like it had taken up too much room!

Sighing, you lower your hands into his hair, scraping your nails against his scalp. “No,” you say, practically panting. “Is the store open?”

“Closes at nine,” Viktor tells you. You glance over at the clock. It’s well past ten.

“Shit,” you say, but you have full intentions to make do without it. In fact, you’re just about to get on your knees when Viktor grabs your arm, keeping you where you are.

“After all I’ve done to you, I must ask you for something else,” he says.

You nose into him, inches away from another kiss. “Anything,” you say, and you mean it.

Viktor hesitates, then sighs. “If I’m to have you, let me… do it in a situation where I can have you fully. Please.”

When you grasp his meaning, you gently release his shirt. Do you tease him?

“I don’t know,” you drawl. “You’ve gotten me pretty worked up, Vik. I’ll need something big to make up for it.”

Viktor huffs, leaning forward until you can practically feel his lips on yours. “You’ll get it,” he promises. “Just wait until tomorrow. After the bus tour.”

“The bus tour?” you ask. “You still want to go on that?”

“Yes,” Viktor replies, tilting his head. “And if I recall correctly, you told me you wanted to as well. Unless you’ve changed your mind?” He raises an eyebrow - a challenge. “Either way, you’ll have to wait.“

Waiting until tomorrow morning is one thing - dragging yourself on a lengthy bus tour where you’ll have to keep your hands off him is another.

“Alright,” you agree, but you can’t help yourself. Your hand slips down to palm him, still painfully hard under your touch.

He lets out a groan and grabs your arm again, stopping you mid-touch. “You are a vixen,” he says, shaking his head. “Go to bed.”

He’s just beginning to step away, picking up his cane from the floor - which you hadn’t even noticed had fallen - when you speak. “If I promise not to try anything, will you kiss me again?” you ask softly.

His eyes find yours, and he smiles, returning to your arms for a moment as he nudges your nose with his. The press of his lips against yours is over much faster than you want it to be. Reality is beginning to hit you - he wants you back. He’s kissed you. Promised you that more will come in the future. Thought you wanted Jayce. It’s dizzying, really. You find yourself grasping at him, trying to keep him close just a little longer.

His thumb brushes over your cheek before he pulls away, staring at you for a moment.

“Tomorrow. I promise.”

“Tomorrow,” you echo.

Going to your room after that is a finely curated torture. The adrenaline of the kiss, of the feeling of his hands against your skin, it restlessly turns through you over and over. All you can do is pace around the room, the memories spinning through your mind on repeat. His lips on yours. Kisses along your neck. Biting.

The - you freeze for a moment. Your neck. Had he left a mark?

Yes, you find. A couple of them, blooming purple against your skin. You groan, burying your face in your hands. How are you supposed to survive this, when you want him so bad? How can he survive this?

Eventually, you pull up a bath, hoping it will distract you. It doesn’t help. Not even a little. Having him so close, knowing what his lips feel like on your skin, it’s driving you mad piece by piece. You want him. All over you, touching you. Whispering to you in that soft lilt, slowly driving away the ache between your legs with those adept fingers.

Or his mouth.

Your fingers find themselves slipping between your thighs, desperate for any relief. You find none. What usually calms you instead is a frustrating, empty result - you can’t seem to please yourself. Not when you know Viktor’s in the next room, maddeningly close. If he hadn’t asked you for tomorrow, you’d be in there now, doing things that make your mouth water at the thought.

Is he - as flustered as you are? Is he touching himself? You sit up at the thought. God, the picture of it alone has you squirming. Brows pinched together in ecstasy, slowly stroking himself, thinking of you. Does he want you there? Is he considering changing his mind, bursting into your room to curb his need?

You’d make it so good for him, down on your knees, your mouth warm and velvet. You’d tease him a little, but not too much. Just enough to get him on edge. To make his hand tighten in your hair. God. Your fingers have found yourself again, slowly stirring pleasure.

“Fuck - please,” you whisper, voice hoarse as your hand tightens on the edge of the tub. Your back is beginning to arch, already close, wanting him ever since he’d said those words to you.

Hodná holka. It melds in your mind with the way he’d groaned when you palmed him, finding a permanent spot in your brain, echoing itself on repeat over and over.

You’re applying it to... other situations. Fuck, you want him. If you wouldn’t have to get out of this bath, to stop touching yourself to go get him, you’re sure you’d be in his room already. For now, you’re rooted to the tub, slowly climbing closer, muscles tensing in your navel and thighs.

It’s the thought of Viktor’s mouth on you that finally sends you over the edge, panting and calling out his name.

You don’t sleep much that night, but there’s a rejuvenation in you when you wake, sparked by an idea you’d had before bed.

You’re unusually cheery when you walk into the kitchen, but Viktor is unusually late. You wait in there a while, but as the bus tour ticks closer, anxiety trickles in. There’s a brief moment where you consider letting him oversleep and missing the tour, but you immediately brush it away. That’d be cruel, no matter how much you want him.

Eventually, you knock on his door, shifting from foot to foot.

“I’ll be right there, he calls. “Sorry, I - shit!”

There’s a clattering sound before he appears, looking flustered and unkempt, his coat in one hand and his cane in the other.

“Hello,” he says breathlessly, setting his cane against the door as he pulls on the coat. “I apologize - I��� seem to have overslept.”

“It’s alright,” you reply, trying to resist the temptation to brush the loose strands of his hair out of his face. “We have time.”

He checks his watch, giving a sigh. “Not as much as I wanted, but yes.” Then he hesitates, stepping forward until he’s inches away from you.

The warmth of his thumb against your cheek makes you shiver. “Kiss me,” you request.

He leans in until he’s inches away from you, nudging your nose with his own. “I’m afraid we don’t have the time for that.” His tone is teasing, and there’s a glint in his eye as he pulls back abruptly.

“Jsi vtipálek,” you grumble.

“You’ll survive.”

He places a hand on the small of your back and guides you toward the living room. What he’s seeming to forget is that two can play at this game.

It starts out small. If you had your way, it would have started in the car, but you’re not eager to repeat the events of last night. You force yourself to wait until the two of you are crammed into tight seats despite the bus’s emptiness, Viktor’s cane slotted between your seats.

A hand on his thigh. That’s what you choose first, keeping your eyes out the window. It’s killing you to not see his face, but you force yourself to act innocent. You flash him a smile, nearly losing your nerve as he returns it. That damned gap in his teeth - it’ll be the end of you one day. Your hand moves upward, going still at his upper thigh. Slowly, up and down his legs, your nails scratching against the fabric of his trousers.

His breath catches, just enough that you can hear it underneath the tour guide’s narration. You’re expecting him to move your hand or say something, but all you find is that his hand mirrors your actions on your leg. When you move your hand down again, he gives your thigh a light squeeze, leaning in.

“Behave,” he murmurs. The hair on the back of your neck is standing up, and to your dismay, his hand doesn’t move. It stays planted there for the next ten minutes, distracting you. It’s agony. All you can think about is those fingers inside you, as precise as he is with his equipment.

Eventually, you study them. The cool-toned veins that streak through them, the pink flush at the knuckles. This tour is driving you mad.

When Viktor notices your staring, he shifts his hand to the small of your back again, nails lightly scratching against your spine. When he finds you still unfocused, he leans in once more.

“If you were paying any attention,” he says, breath hot against your ear, “you’d find that this tour is very interesting.”

“Who says I wasn’t paying attention?”

He huffs at that. “Well, for one, your focus seemed to be on my hands. However, perhaps I can be proven wrong. What’s the place we just passed? Tell me one thing about it?”

Your lips part to answer, but you stall for a moment. “The… old church. With stained-glass windows.”

“That was five minutes ago,” Viktor says. “You are a terrible liar.”

You fold your arms over your chest, shifting away from him. “Maybe if you weren’t distracting me, I would be listening.”

His smile goes cocky. “I’m sorry. I did not realize that my hand on your back was so… distracting.” He removes it. “I expect you will be able to listen in peace, now.”

Everything about him is distracting. Not that you’d ever tell him that, seeing the smugness in his expression, but it’s a losing battle trying to keep your eyes off him. Trying to block the memories of last night and how it’d ended.

Eventually, you zone out and all you can think about is the memory of his mouth against your neck, leaving marks. Had he noticed? No, he couldn’t have - there’s a scarf wrapped around your neck.

Wanting to torture him a little, you remove it, giving a sigh. You count one, two, three seconds before he notices it - a strangled sound leaving his throat. Then his fingers are on you, tilting your chin up, brushing against the marks he’d left.

“Was that me?” he asks.

“It wasn’t Jayce,” you say, and he frowns a little, nosing against your cheek as he lets go of your neck.

“You have no idea how I envied him,” he breathes, hand on your thigh again. “I must admit, it was the first time I’ve ever considered leaving the lab. You’ve no clue how much you’ve tortured me.”

“I’ve never thought about him like that,” you respond. “Even before Mel. I wanted you from the start.”

His grip tightens a little. “As soon as we get off this bus…” His words are left open, leaving you to squirm next to him, trying to ignore the increasing heat between your legs.

“How much longer?”

He gives a sigh, checking his watch. His fingers comb through his hair as he does, and your eyes trail over the movement.

“Half an hour, most likely,” he says.

“Fuck.”

Ten minutes pass before you can’t help yourself any longer. This time you’re the one leaning in. “I have to know. Last night - did you think of me?” you murmur. His jaw clenches, and his cheeks go red, giving you all the information you need to know.

“You were the only thing I thought about last night,” he says. “I… began to regret my decision to leave, I must admit. The way I am now regretting going on this tour.”

“I thought about you,” you admit, thumb circling his inner thigh. “I could barely sleep.”

He swallows hard, gently lifting your hand off his leg. “Until we get back to the cabin, please - spare me. There’s only so much I can resist you.”

You don’t know how you survive the rest. Your hands won’t stop moving, clenching your shirt, your pants, the seat. Viktor can’t seem to look at you anymore, knuckles going white as he digs his nails into his palms.

You don’t like that he’s doing that. Your right hand settles on his, brushing against his knuckles until he opens his palm, leaving you to intertwine your fingers with his. Then you rest a head on his shoulder.

“What are we going to do when we get to the lab?” you ask softly.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t mean to be blunt, but… do you want just sex? Or-”

He cuts you off with the sound of your name, shaking his head. “If that is the impression I’ve given you, I am truly sorry.” His chest expands with his inhale beneath you, steady and comforting. “What I want is… much more than that. A relationship - if you feel the same.”

“I do.”

His relief is palpable. A warm smile that heats you from the inside out, the grip that tightens ever so slightly around your hands. You can't help but smile back at him.

“What was it?” you whisper. “That made you like me?”

He thinks for a moment, thumb brushing against your knuckles. “You are the most stubborn person I have ever met,” he says. “Worse than Jayce, even. From the beginning, that was clear. It showed in your work. Persistency. When things go wrong, you refuse to take no for an answer. You also aren’t afraid to push me or Jayce, or let us know when you disagree with us. Other people were… not so bold.” He pauses for a moment, eyes lingering on your face. “But most of all, you were kind. Always, even to those who were cruel, or rude. Even to me, when I was cold to you. I must confess, it only made me want you more. A trait like that is… truly rare, in this world.”

“Viktor-” you start, touched in a way you could never express

“You’re very beautiful, too,” Viktor murmurs, cutting you off. “I found it hard to keep my eyes off you.”

You laugh a little, cheeks going warm. “I thought it was just me who struggled with that,” you say.

“Not at all. Though, I will say, there were times I caught you looking at me and I… wondered. Or hoped, really. I - I didn’t want my feelings to get in the way of my logic again, so I forced myself to wait for a more prominent sign that you might return the way I felt.”

“I was scared,” you admit. “I never let myself hope for you. Not when you were turning down beautiful women left and right.”

“They weren’t you,” he says simply. “I can’t say anyone else has caught my interest the way you do.” He hesitates for a moment. “I must know. What drew you to me?”

“Aside from you being devastatingly handsome?” you ask, reveling in the way his cheeks flush. “You’re the best man I know. Always focused on helping people, improving lives, even if it costs you sleep, or food, or anything else. You also happen to be the smartest person I’ve ever met - incredibly witty, and… passionate. I could listen to you talk about your work for hours without getting bored. You’re brave and ambitious, not afraid to take risks… You’re always seeking to change the world.” You bury your forehead in his shoulder for a moment, before looking back at him. “Just being around you inspires me.”

He seems to be caught in a lack for words, but his hand is squeezing against yours incredibly tight.

“I - don’t know what to say to that,” he says eventually. “You flatter me.”

“I disagree. All my compliments were genuine and deserved.”

“Then… thank you,” he settles on. “Though, I can’t pretend I’m not flawed. You’ve seen the effects of that.”

“It’s in the past,” you assure him. “Knowing why you acted the way you did is helpful. You’ve also apologized for it. It’s okay. It’s forgiven.”

He sighs, tilting his head against yours. “I do not know what I’ve done to deserve you.”

“Everything,” you reply.

Once the two of you have stopped at the store, the walk home is silent. It’s been so long since someone has touched you. Kissed you. Wanted you. The crunch of the snow under your feet is the only thing keeping you grounded. Never have you wanted something so much, and been so scared of it.

By the time the two of you get inside, you’re trembling like a leaf. Viktor is setting his things down evenly - steady in his work. Then he turns and looks at you.

“Do you… still want to?”

“Yes.” Despite your fear, the word slides smoothly out of you, spilling from you like a rush of spring water.

“Perhaps we should take this to the bedroom, then?” he asks.

You nod, feeling like you’re floating away as you follow him. You can’t take your eyes off the box of condoms in his hand until he sets it down on the nightstand next to his bed. Then he heads into the bathroom to retrieve a towel. His words from last night are haunting you. I don’t know how to allow myself the things I’ve wanted for well over a year now. Does he feel that way now? Is he as nervous as you are?

He must be - when he comes back, he hesitates before he kisses you, fiddling with his cane. You step in closer, cradling his cheek with your hand. Then you allow yourself a moment to look around.

This room is not his, per se, but it has so many remnants of him. Clothes folded neatly, but his suit from last night crumpled up into a ball. Pages of notes scattered on the desk, a book on the side of his bed. The one you’d been reading on the train.

“I thought that book was frightening for your tastes,” you say, nudging his nose with yours.

“I got curious. I had to see if it lived up to the hype. You weren’t lying - it’s a bit much for me.”

“I was lying,” you whisper, inches away from his lips. “I didn’t read a word of that book on the train. I was thinking about you.”

That’s the final straw. Viktor takes your face in his hands and kisses you. His cane falls to the floor, but neither of you seem to mind, backing up toward the bed until it hits the back of your legs and you sit, pulling him next to you. Then you shift until you’re sitting on his lap, groaning when you feel how hard he is beneath you.

“Fuck,” you mutter. “Viktor, touch me.”

You don’t have to ask twice. His hands are all over you - in your hair, tracing along your jaw, pulling on your shirt. Sucking down your neck, undoing your bra in smooth precision. Taking a nipple into his mouth, which draws a strangled sound from your lips. He’s like a man starved, only settling when your pants are on the floor and his thumb is on your clit, rubbing slow circles. You gasp at the coldness of his fingers, then moan, tugging on his hair.

“Fuck.”

“This is what I thought about last night,” Viktor says, breathless. “You. Touching you.”

His words draw a whimper out of you as he continues on his pace. “Don’t stop,” you beg. “Please.”

His fingers stray downward, and he curses. “How long have you been this wet?” he asks.

“Since I saw you in that suit,” you pant, grabbing onto him tighter as he slips a finger inside you. To the knuckle at first, then deeper when you whine.

“I want you inside me.”

“Not yet,” he says, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. “I’ve been dreaming about this for months. I fully intend to milk it for all it’s worth.”

And so he does, down on his knees at the side of your bed, face buried between your legs. Groaning when he first tastes you, adding two fingers inside you, his other hand gripping your thigh. Humming against you when you clench around him, the rhythm of his fingers and his tongue slowly driving you mad.

You barely get the chance to warn him before you cum - his name a strangled cry on your tongue. The room goes fuzzy. The ringing in your ears and the feeling of Viktor’s tongue on you are the only signs that you’re still in your body.

“Fuck,” you mutter, squirming from overstimulation as Viktor continues his work.

When you start laughing, almost deliriously, he finally moves - coming up to kiss you, brushing his thumb against your cheek as your lips meet. “You’re beautiful,” he says softly, nudging his forehead against you. “Had enough?”

“Not a chance.” You grab his arm as you sit up, positioning him under you like earlier, unbuttoning his shirt.

“This fabric has tortured me,” you whisper, nipping along his clavicle then up his throat. “Have you seen yourself? How distracting you are?” Your fingers have reached the buttons of his pants. “I can barely focus on my work.”

He groans, the sound gaining gravel when your hand strokes along his length, painfully hard.

“I’ve never wanted someone like I want you, Viktor,” you say.

“Fuck.” The word comes out thick, breathing heavily before he swallows hard. His hand has found your hair again, tangling in it before he pulls you in for a kiss. “You’ve tortured me just as much.” He sounds strained, his index finger trailing along your lips. Lips that part automatically, taking his finger into your mouth, noting the way his eyes dilate.

“Fuck.” His head tilts back as you continue your rhythm, leaving you access to kiss up his neck. Things you’ve dreamed of. Dreams that pale in reality to the softness of his skin, the sounds he’s making as you touch him.

Eventually, he grabs your arm, brows pinched together in effort. “Give me… a moment, please,” he pants.

You take it as an opportunity to grab a condom from the box. Watching him like this has you soaking wet again, aching for relief. He’s beautiful like this, so warm and real next to you. He’s always beautiful. How many times have you snuck glances at him, trying to satiate your desire to see the way his nose scrunches up when he thinks? How many times have you imagined kissing him, and never knew that this was where you’d end up - shamelessly staring at him, watching as the tension in his abdomen relaxes and he opens his eyes.

“Forgive me-” he starts, but he’s cut off as you kiss him.

“Tell me this is real,” you plead, trailing your hand up his thigh. He shivers and lets out a moan, leaning into your neck to feather kisses up your throat.

“It’s real.”

You hold up the condom. At his nod, you open it, rolling it onto him in a fluid motion.

“Tell me you want me.” You’re back on top of him now, his hands clutching at your hips, nails digging into your skin as you sink down on him, a hiss leaving your mouth as he stretches you. Fuck, he feels good.

“I - I want you. More than anything,” he breathes. At the roll of your hips, he moans. Then his thumb returns to your clit, making you shudder.

“I want you, too,” you pant. “You’re amazing, Viktor. Amazing.”

He’s seemingly lost his ability to reply, aside from hissed curses as you ride him, placing a hand on the headboard to steady yourself.

You get lost in that - the feeling of him inside you, dragging in and out of your slickness, the muttered string of words he lets out when something feels especially good. Some of it is in Czech, some in English.

You get close fast, much faster than you should - but you’ve never been more turned on in your life, and the adrenaline that’s flooding through your veins isn’t exactly helping. Eventually, your thighs begin to ache from the strain. You’re essentially edging yourself trying to battle the burning in your muscles, and most likely edging Viktor along with you, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He just kisses you. Entwines your hand with his.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, words reverent against your skin. Then he shifts, gently pulling himself out from under you. You whine at the sudden loss of him, but then he’s grabbing a pillow and laying it down, motioning for you to put it under your hips

“Why the pillow?” you ask, winded as you place yourself on top of it.

“It increases pleasure,” Viktor says, his cheeks going red. “I… read about it during research.”

“Research?” You quirk an eyebrow. You desperately want him inside of you again, but you can’t resist pressing him.

His face only flushes further. “Well, I… didn’t spend all those late nights thinking of you without learning a trick or two,” he mumbles.

He’d done research on how to please you. You could come just from that.

You don’t, though, not yet. Not until he’s inside you again, pressing kisses along your jaw as he thrusts inside you at a steady rhythm. You scramble for purchase and find it in his hair and his back, your ankle wrapped around his waist. He feels so fucking good. You’re close again, tension springing up in your thighs and stomach, pleasure coursing through your body. You’re so close.

“What was it that flustered you so much again?” he asks, breathing heavily. “Good girl?”

That’s all it takes to send you over the edge, shuddering and panting. Viktor cums just a second or two after you, burying his face in the crevice between your shoulder and neck as he groans.

Your body doesn’t come back to you until Viktor slides out of you, pressing a kiss of apology to your lips as you hiss at the sensation. Then he leaves for a moment. You hear the water running in the bathroom, but you can’t find it in yourself to look at what he’s doing. You’re exhausted, completely sexed out, and incredibly happy.

You register his return at the feeling of the warm, wet washcloth that he uses to clean you up. Then he settles into the bed beside you, tucking damp strands of your hair out of your face.

“Was that alright?” he asks.

“It was perfect, Viktor,” you murmur, lifting a hand to cradle his cheek. “I never could have dreamed that up.”

“As good as you’d hoped?”

“Better.”

He waits a moment, then presses his forehead against yours. “Shall we get cleaned up?” he asks. “I can draw a bath.”

“Yes, please.”

The bathtub is certainly big enough for the both of you.

tags: @mischievous-piltovian @scorpio-echo @shamoane @moonlight-silent @pingas030 @ohnosiren @abrokenlink @dovahkiinchan @failed-human-being @onlygetaway @ironnieincarn8 @twiling-lady

[zodiakuroo]

copycat

18+, eren jaeger x fem!reader

part two of pierced

inspired by the 'big stick' scene from jawbreaker (iykyk)

wc: 3.7k

contains: mild dubcon, light dom/sub, ball play, choking, dumbification, degradation, spit, creampie

Eren can’t help but admire you from the doorway of your shared bedroom. One would think, that after 30 days of edging, you would learn not to be such a fucking tease. But here you are flitting around the kitchen in nothing but one of his t-shirts and a frilly pair of lilac panties.

‘Stop being a perv. It’s hot out.’ You don’t have to say it. The ‘you’ in his head is already chastising him for the lascivious nature of his thoughts.

The ‘you’ in his head is also already bent over the granite top counter, panties long discarded, presenting yourself to him, begging ‘Please Eren. Fuck me.’

He can’t help it. Everyday he’s found himself face to face with your cute little pussy, absolutely begging to get filled and not being able to do anything about it. It’s not his fault that when he sees you wearing next to nothing, he just wants to stick his cock in you.

Except it’s entirely his fault.

That’s why even though you can feel the weight of his stare as you move around the kitchen, you don’t even spare a glance in his direction.

If there’s one thing these last few weeks have taught you, its willpower. And thanks to your newfound self-discipline you’re able to resist the urge to pounce on him when your boyfriend pulls your back against the solid wall of his chest. “Baby.” He rasps. “I’m all healed up.”

The statement makes goosebumps appear on your skin despite the sweltering heat but other than that, you show no signs of exactly how pent up you are.

Eren made you swear not to touch yourself whining about how unfair it would be and how he would really appreciate your support in his hour of need. Yes he used those exact words. You kept your promise but not without intending to receive payback. It was only a matter of how. The idea hadn’t come to you yet.

“Really?” You don’t even bother to turn around, pushing past him. Partly as a way to tease him but also because you don’t trust yourself to be able to resist him once you get a good look at him. From his scent alone you can tell he’s fresh from a shower and that’s when he’s the most dangerous. He smells cool and fresh like his shower gel, spicy and warm like his aftershave and fruity and floral like his your shampoo. It’s hypnotic.

The trance is broken when he pulls you even closer to him, grinding his bulge into your backside.

“Stop buying that 2-in-1 shit if you’re gonna use mine all the time anyways.” You grumble.

Right.

Revenge first. Dick second. The voice in your head reminds you.

You wriggle out of his hold, remembering why you came into the kitchen in the first place. You breathe a sigh of relief as you open the freezer door, the cold air providing a brief reprieve from the near suffocating heat of your apartment. Once you’ve obtained your target; a cherry popsicle hidden behind some ice packs and frozen peas, you finally take a look at your tormentor.

“Babe c’mon.” Eren persists.

He looks good. Unfairly good considering the fact that he’s not even trying. Fresh from the shower, he has on a worn out white t-shirt, stretched around the neckline which gives you a mouthwatering look at his perfectly sculpted collarbones and no more than the top of his pecs that peak out above the seam. His grey athletic shorts hang low on his hips and outline his print a little too well so you know he’s not wearing boxers. Eren hasn’t bothered to tie up his long hair leaving the damp tendrils dangling above his shoulders with a few stray strands framing his handsome face. He’s putting up a nonchalant front but the tick in his eyebrow gives his irritated disposition away.

Surely he didn’t believe that you would let him have his way with you that easily.

Except he did. Because under most circumstances he would. But today, your own stubbornness (only marginally) drowns out your desire for your Adonis of a boyfriend so you push past him into the lounge, plopping down on the couch with a dramatic sigh.

“Later.” You bring the frozen treat to your lips. “It’s so hot.” Again, Eren tries to keep his face expressionless but you easily spot the way he clenches his jaw as his gaze fixes itself onto your mouth.

Bingo

You close your eyes, enjoying the sweet cherry taste and cool sensation that spreads throughout your body.

“On second thought,” You start, as a mischievous grin spreads across your face. “There is something else I’d rather have in my mouth.”

“Yeah?” Eren dons a matching smirk and stalks his way over to you, sitting down so that you can straddle him. “Tempting but honestly, your mouth isn’t what I had in mind.” His voice trails off, large hands moving down to cup your ass, giving the soft flesh a squeeze for good measure. But before he can take it any further you’re already manoeuvring your way between his knees.

“Oh. You don’t want me to suck your cock?” You pout, resting your head against his thigh, trying your best to sound disappointed.

Eren swallows whatever argument he was about to present when he sees your pretty eyes, shaded by fluttering lashes looking up at him with the tip of the crimson popsicle pressed against your sinful mouth. The same sinful mouth he’s been dreaming about for a month.

Fuck.

“Yeah, okay.” He grumbles while you watch him pull his already half hard cock out of his bottoms. It’s so pretty and long, perfectly thick in all the right places, decorated at the tip with a vertical running titanium barbell.

He’s got a hand around his base, waiting for you to replace the sweet treat in your mouth with his aching cock but much to his dismay your attention is drawn a little lower.

The sight of his plush balls all swollen and full of cum proves to be too much for you to resist. He shudders when your cold lips press against the taut skin. You know he’s sensitive from being so backed up. That’s why he starts panting as you leave wet kisses on his sac, leaving your saliva all over it while his shaft grows harder above you.

“Hold this for me.” You pass him your popsicle, that is slowly starting to melt which he takes in his free hand.

“Okay can you just- fuck.” One more kiss, right on the shiny metal of his newly healed piercing, shuts him up quickly.

Your own hands find their place on his thighs. You dip your head down again and take one of his balls in his mouth massaging it with your tongue.

“Christ.” He groans, slowly jerking himself off while you worship his balls.

“Oh poor baby…. so full.” You murmur letting go of the left to suck on the right one, savouring the weight of them.

“Yeah.” His voice is about a whole octave higher than usual. “Hurts.” He scrunches up his face when you let go of his ball with a pop.

“I bet.” You giggle. Eren is now at full mast, veiny shaft resting against his abdomen, dribbling precum which coats the shiny piercing that crowns his angry-red tip. His wrist flicks ever so elegantly as his hand moves languidly up and down, up and down, up and-”

“Princess.” Your boyfriend whines, yanking you out of your daze. “Enough with the teasing. You wanted to suck me off. Do it already.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, not losing sight of your revenge plot.

“Baby,” You pout. “I really want to but-” It’s so hard to bite back your laugh. “But I don’t remember how.”

“Wait what?” His hand stops right in his tracks, brows furrowed in confusion.

“It’s been so long. Can you show me?”

Eren’s expression goes from perplexed to vicious but you don’t budge, blinking up at him with wide innocent eyes.

“How?” He huffs impatiently. It’s funny actually, seeing him struggle to tolerate a fraction of his own bitter medicine.

Your eyes shift to the frozen treat still in his hand that’s starting to drip down his knuckles. “I’m a visual learner.”

He moves like he’s about to stand up but you won’t make it that easy for him. “Please, Rennie? Please teach me how to suck your cock?”

As much as Eren has you wrapped around his finger, he’s just as whipped for you. So when you look at him with those sparkly eyes and call him the pet name he swears he hates but brings him to his knees when you use it, you know you have him.

Hook, line and sinker.

You use your thumb and middle finger to make a circle around his base, positioning yourself eye level with his leaking slit.

His tongue peaks out cautiously, eyes trained on yours as he flicks it across the tip, testing the waters. Immediately you follow suit, tasting his precum for the first time in so long. His hips buck off the couch, chasing the gone-too-soon sensation but you dig your nails into his thigh, reminding him who’s in control right now.

You quirk your brow at him, making sure he understands what you want.

How many times have you found yourself in this exact position: sitting between your boyfriend’s thighs while he looks down at you, both of you equally as lust drunk as the other. But this time he’s the one panting and whimpering while you have your turn to torture him.

Eren doesn’t like it. Not one bit. He wants to smack that smug little grin right off your face but instead he pulls at your hair, tugging right at the roots and making you yelp in pain. Now you’re scowling. But it’s hard to look at all intimidating sitting beneath him with your head tilted at such an awkward angle. He doesn’t miss the way your thighs clench together either.

Never breaking eye contact, he uses the flat of his tongue to lick a broad stripe up the length of the popsicle. You squirm in place, remembering how it feels to have him lick across your cunt exactly like that.

Fine. He’d play along with your little game. But on his own terms.

You lean forward to copy him but the hand holding your head keeps you in place. Without looking away, Eren launches a glob of spit onto the already drippy ice-cream before licking it away. It’s that simple for him to put a crack in your domineering façade and have you whimpering right at his feet as per usual.

The corners of his lips twitch as a silent challenge to you.

Never one to back down, you use your tongue to trace the vein that runs along the underside of his cock, feeling it pulsate. As you get closer to his prince Albert, you can’t hold back from swirling the wet muscle around the cold metal.

A soft whimper escapes his lips as you pull away, keeping your mouth agape, looking up at him expectantly.

It’s silent for a moment before Eren realises what you’re wordlessly pleading for. “Fucking slut.” He mutters, almost amazed before he gathers more of his saliva to drop into your mouth with a loud khwa pto echoing throughout the quiet apartment.

You close your mouth with a satisfied smile, savouring the taste of sweet, tart cherry and a flavour that is uniquely Eren, letting it mingle with your own saliva before spitting it on to his cock. You use your tongue to spread the wetness all along the shaft, leaving it covered in slick sheen.

“So fuckin’ nasty.” He groans, moving his hand from your head to push his own hair out of his face, not wanting anything to obstruct his view of you right now.

You feel the way his thigh twitches under your palm every time you come even close to his puffy cockhead and your tongue brushes across the sensitive piercing. The idea that you have him like this, desperate and whining, after weeks of him toying with you is exhilarating to say the least.

You have to rein yourself in before you end the fun too soon.

Reluctantly, you pull away and patiently await your next command.

You know what he wants next and so does he but Eren can’t help but feel self-conscious.

Of course, he loves the way you look when you’re going down him. His gallery is filled with pictures of you with your eyes filled to the brim with tears and your lips stretched impossibly wide around his girth. When you’re not around he gets off to the videos him fucking your face, relishing in the way you gag while you try to accommodate him in your throat. He doesn’t think he could ever measure up to how sexy you look with your pupils blown, lips all swollen and your spit dripping down your chin.

But just like you, he’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

Ever so slowly, he opens his mouth and latches on to the blunt top of the popsicle. His plump lips form a perfect O-shaped pout, stained beautiful crimson from the fruit juice. Your gaze is transfixed on his face, the sharp lines and edges tinted with an uncharacteristic blush as his cheeks hollow out, to suck it in deeper.

“So pretty baby.” You breathe out.

He shudders as the cool air fans out across his wet skin.

“Yeah? ‘m pretty?” He smirks, using his free hand to drag his cock across your face, smearing his precum on your lips. “Show me how you treat pretty boys. Please?”

And how could you deny him?

Centimeter by centimeter, you pull him in. Only the first few inches, get to enjoy the warm, slippery cavern of your mouth while the rest of him has to make do with the soft skin of your hand gliding up, down and around.

“Fucking take it inside. Christ.” He groans, frustration evident as he glares down at you.

You simply shake your head a ‘no’, far too content with the taste and the weight of him in your mouth to stop suckling at his cock. If he wants more, he knows what he has to do.

The frozen treat is back between his lips and far too quickly, with not enough thought he pushes it inside as far as it can go until his gag reflex forces him to abort his mission, sputtering out red-coloured saliva.

You pull off of him as you erupt into a fit of giggles.

Eren takes advantage of the fact that you’re unguarded and in a matter of seconds he has you pinned to the floor. The poor popsicle is left in a sad, melting puddle on your couch while his long, sticky fingers circle around both of your wrists, the other hand keeping a harsh grip on your jaw.

Yeah. Not laughing now, are you?

“Was that funny to you princess?” He questions you, almost daring you to hit back.

Knowing when to quit was never one of your strong points.

“Not funny.” You say despite your giddy smile. “My pretty boy just needs more practice.” You snicker.

You’re pushing his buttons on purpose now. At best, you expect some degrading words fitting of your bratty attitude. At worst, you expect the sting of his palm to come down against the side of your face, reminding you of your place.

What you don’t expect is a wry chuckle before he says, “I forgot how bitchy you get when you don’t get stuffed full of cock enough.”

Eren frees your hands in favour of placing both of his on your knees. He spreads apart your legs as wide as they can go, dragging his coarse palms up and up to rest at the apex of your thighs. He flicks up the hem of your shirt to reveal to him the crotch of your panties that's soaked through with your arousal. He pulls them to the side to expose your cunt to him. Eren barely stops himself from tearing the flimsy fabric right off your body and only because he thinks they're pretty and wants to see you wear them again.

He can smell you. But he suppresses the desire to bury his face between your pillowy thighs for as long as you’ll let him. He knows that’s not what either of you really want.

“This needy pussy been missing me?” He coos, keeping his voice sugary sweet and dripping with condescension. He grinds his pierced tip all along your cunt, dipping under your hood to press right against your clit.

You feel it before you realise what’s happening; the burn of his fat head of his cock prodding at your tiny hole, forcing it to stretch around him.

“Jesus fuck- ‘s tight.” He grits out, managing to pop just the tip in.

Tears gather at your waterline as he impales you further and further on his cock, reintroducing your insides to him and his newest body mod. The bulb of the piercing drags deliciously over every bump and ridge that lines your walls. It just keeps going and going until it’s all too much.

Instinctively, your hand flies to Eren’s abdomen, fingers splaying across his tummy. You want to ask him to stop or wait or at the very least prep you. But you’re just so full.

He’s not even all the way in and you’re full of him everywhere. Did it feel like this before?

He doesn't give you a chance to remember.

“Move. Your fucking. Hand.” He grunts before moving it for you and sheathing his cock fully in your spasming cunt.

“Fuck Eren. ‘s big.” Your voice breaks as you utter that last word right one Eren fills you to the hilt. Your arms fly to his biceps, squeezing the muscle so tight that you’re certain it hurts him but he doesn’t complain.

No one would believe that mere minutes ago Eren was the one under your thumb. Not when he’s so quickly managed to turn you into a blubbering mess.

“Where’s that smart mouth now?” He mocks you as if he’s doing any better. In reality he’s keeping himself still, with his pressed against yours trying to regain a semblance of control, not wanting this to end so soon.

Slowly, he starts to rock his hips against you and little by little you open up around him, offering less and less resistance. Hand on the bible, he swears he can feel your gooey pussy sucking him in every time he pulls back, almost like it’s begging him to never leave again. Hand on the bible, he swears that he won’t.

“Huh?” He taunts. “Where’s the bitch who thought she could fuck with me?” He emphasises his point with one sharp snap of his hips that hits the bull’s eye.

“Eren! Right there!” You cry out as you back arches up into him but he forces you to stay down by pressing his palm firmly against your sternum.

“Right there?” He mimics your voice, with a high pitched, nasal tone. You can’t even cringe at how it sounds because the feeling of the rounded metal hitting that squishy patch deep inside you with pinpoint accuracy is too overwhelming for you to think about anything else.

“You want me to fuck you here?” His thrusts start to pick up pace. You’re finally getting used to him again and the slick juices from your pussy let’s him move as fast as he wants, as deep as he wants so you he can use his cock to abuse all of your sweet spots

You can’t exactly speak; only nod, as you dig your nails into his shoulders and back, leaving a trail of crescent shaped indents in your wake. The coil at the base of your belly twists tighter, tighter and tighter still as all your nerve endings work overtime to register the way he fills you up completely, the way the metal rubs along all the right spots and the way Eren rams into you like a man possessed.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease.” Now you’re begging. It’s impossible to stop the fear bubbling in your chest. You’ve become well-acquainted with this feeling. Absolutely drowning in pleasure and right on the edge of an unimaginable peak before having it ripped away. It’s not unreasonable to be worried that Eren might leave you high and dry once again.

He halts his movements the moment he notices the doubt behind your eyes.

Your pleas become more and more frantic, already thinking the worst. “Don’t stop Eren! Please don’t stop.” You sob but go silent when his hand rests itself firmly around your throat.

“Told you.” He punctuates the sentence with one, deep thrust.

“Fuck. What did I say?” He growls as he falls back into the same brutal rhythm that had you teetering on the very brink of an orgasm before.

God above as your witness, you try and answer but all that comes out is a pathetic squeak of his name before he cuts you off completely by squeezing your neck tighter.

“S-said I was gonna fuck you stupid. Right?”

You nod as best you can, head spinning from the lack of air and your orgasm approaching rapidly.

“Now fuckin’ cum for me so I can keep my promise.”

The second his hand meets your clit, you’re a goner. The calloused pad of his thumb rubs the neglected nub with exactly the right pressure to push you over the edge. Every muscle clenches as that tightening coil finally snaps. The intoxicating pleasure that shoots through your body reaches your head at the same time as the pressure on your throat is released, much needed oxygen flooding your brain and prolonging the high.

You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him deep inside you as cream around his cock. It’s pointless to hold off his release any longer and with nowhere else to go he spills his load deep in your pussy. The feeling of his hot cum seeping into your pussy has you twitching around him, trying to milk every last drop from him.

You may have blacked for a second, eyes fluttering open as Eren gently taps your cheek. His handsome face, all flushed and sweaty comes into focus. Both of you are wearing equally dopey grins as he asks you, “Did it feel as good as I said?”

[morifinwes]

wangxian fic rec list!

aka in which i read fics, write some recs down for aamna and share them!! they're all wangxian fics and uhh @yibobibo i hope you'll like them!!

modern

wolf devours playboy bunny by @greenteafiend (5K, werewolf!lwj, getting together, idk if anyone needs to know that but there's nudity just not uhh explicit)

Lan Zhan has wanted Wei Ying as long as he has known him, and the worst part is that he thinks Wei Ying could want him back.

Too bad he could never in good conscience let himself go there—Wei Ying has a debilitating fear of all things canine, and once a month, Lan Zhan is the exact, precise thing that Wei Ying’s nightmares are made of.

Aka, Lan Zhan is a werewolf.

between the lines by @jywait (19K gaming au!!!, i'm always down for a good gaming au, lwj is the best aksks he's such a good boy)

☆yilingpatriarch☆: pls...give me some face, help me fight these monsters...I'm gonna die

Bluetooth: no.

"You have died." The screen said, and Wei Wuxian threw his hands up in frustration.

resonant frequencies by chinxe (15K, college au, fake dating au, tw mention of cheating but it's brief and no one was cheated on i promise)

In which Wei Wuxian decides that the best way to deal with being in love with Lan Wangji is to pretend to date him for three weeks.

It goes about as well as can be expected.

drift compatible by windoworwhatever (5K, poetry, fluff, drunkji, getting together, college au)

"It was just a fact of life. The sky was blue, university stipends for graduate students working in TA positions barely covered rent, bisexuals cuffed their jeans, Lan Wangji had a massive crush on Wei Wuxian, and spent his time pining and writing research papers about gay subtexts in ancient poetry."

OR

Lan Wangji is in love with Wei Wuxian, and everybody knows, except Wei Wuxian.

the bunny next door by detailsinthefabric (43K, this is mostly fluff and very light angst, and they were neighbors!!!, rabbits!!, aka wangxian's bunny children, this is... so cute i just have to rec it)

Lan Wangji did not know what he was doing. He did not know what he was going to say. He was frozen in place, puzzling over the situation. Maybe he had made the man uncomfortable, which is why he wanted to leave? But his tone had still been so friendly—maybe…

“Would…” he paused, swallowed, forced the last words to come out of his suddenly parched mouth, “would you let me pet him?”

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

Lan Wangji, who doesn't know how to socialize and whose icy demeanor scares everyone away, lets down all his defenses when he meets the bunny next door...oh, and also its owner, Wei Wuxian.

leading tone by silencemostofall (32K, everyone is a music student? or something like that akskk, curse fic, tw panic attacks, tw child abuse, small scene of drunkji, wwx has low self esteem, bro this was so painful to read)

The first time you touch someone you're fated to love, you leave a mark on their skin. If they will love you in return, they'll mark you where you touched them. The deeper the color, the deeper the connection.

Wei Ying has no marks at all.

public places, private thoughts by leahelisabeth (for the love of camelot) ( 8K, cherry magic au, getting together with like... immediate upgrade to fiance status, the author is wrong i crave good wangxian cherry magic aus even tho i haven't even watched cherry magic)

Wei Wuxian had heard the story of course. It had made its rounds through his high school and followed him into his college days. He didn’t think there was any possibility it was true. Virginity was a social construct, invented by creepy old men to exercise dominance over women. The idea that a simple lack of sexual activity before the age of thirty could give one magical powers was absolutely ludicrous.

Wei Wuxian believed this until the morning of his thirtieth birthday.

AKA the Wangxian Cherry Magic AU that absolutely nobody asked for.

i'd be all right (if i could see you) by @thirtysixsavefiles (16K, this was nice, i read this at 6am but it was cute, (while writing this post i must admit i don't remember anything but 6am-me said it's good))

The younger Lan brother is something of an enigma on campus; while Lan Xichen can sometimes be seen in the company of other graduate students or conducting a seminar, Lan Wangji appears to spend all his time in class or in the library. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t smoke. He doesn’t attend social events. He doesn’t do anything for fun, as far as Wei Wuxian can tell, and it’s driving Wei Wuxian just a little bit up the wall.

Or, Wei Wuxian convinces Lan Wangji to come to a house party, and then they're assigned to the same group project. Wei Wuxian tries his best, but he is not in possession of all the facts.

axe on leg by itszero (4K, i still don't get why wwx did that but it was nice seeing him jealous for once, jealous!wwx, lwj i love you....)

Wei Wuxian pressed his face into his pillow and screamed. He paused to take a few deep breaths, partially hindered by the pillow, and listened to the sounds of Nie Huaisang slurping his iced coffee, from his seat on Wei Wuxian's desk chair.

Having caught his breath, he resumed his screaming and did not stop at the sound of his dorm room door opening.

"What's wrong with him?" He heard his brother, Jiang Cheng, ask.

The slurping stopped. "He's an idiot."

"He's always been an idiot. Why is he bothered about it now?"

"He forced Lan Wangji to go on a date," Nie Huaisang replied, shaking the ice cubes in his drink.

"Okay and…?"

"With someone else." The slurping resumed.

Wei Wuxian, in all his glorious dumbassery, convinces his boyfriend to go on a date with someone else.

these two most powerful by @stiltonbasket (4K, amnesia, wangxian with children!!!, aksksk this was adorable, dadji!!)

When Lan Wangji went to bed last night, he was alone in a tiny guest room with nothing but the howling of the wind in the mountains and his own lonely thoughts for company.

 

But when he opened his eyes in the morning, Wei Ying was asleep beside him.

 

(In which Lan Wangji loses twenty years' worth of memories after a night-hunt gone wrong, and his life as a doting father and husband continues without a hitch somehow.)

good things come to those who wait [but i ain't in a patient phase] by @cerlunas (4K, getting together, pining lwj)

Lan Wangji can't take it anymore.

 

“I love you”, he says, and god, it feels terrifying. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

“Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian starts, but Lan Wangji doesn’t want to hear it.

He grabs his cup and drinks everything. He doesn’t know what face Wei Wuxian is making at him right now, and it’s okay. 

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian repeats louder, but it’s too late. He is already falling asleep.

Or, even after 13 years, Lan Wangji is still in love with his best friend. Maybe it's time to open up.

wei ying, will you marry m- oh my god he swallowed the ring! by selene210 (2K, marriage proposals, crack, marriage proposals but.. they go wrong)

“A ring?”

And indeed it was. The ring Lan Wangji was going to propose to Wei Ying with. That the man had now choked on.

“You swallowed it.”

“It was in my soufflé! Why did you put a ring in my soufflé Lan Zhan- oh. oh”

of glittery valentine's cards by @soft-fics (3K, valentine's day, this was adorable aksk, a-yuan best boy!!)

Lan Zhan didn't want to know what his best friend had planned for Valentine's Day; his heart would simply not be able to handle it. When his son tells him that he made Wei Ying a Valentine's Day card, though, Lan Zhan decided to bring it over anyway.

of coffee and white tea by @soft-fics (9K, fluff, lwj doesn't like coffee, wwx buys him coffee, then they switch drinks, again and again and again, the staff ships it lmao, tbh jc shouldn't have done that like wtf)

For the fourth time this week a stranger orders him a cup of coffee. Lan Wangji wonders how exactly to tell this man to stop ordering him coffee he doesn't even like. Turns out, buying the other white tea and switching drinks is not the best way to go about it

canon setting

on the importance of restraint (or lack thereof) by nixthothou (4K, in which sizhui snaps, i love that boy, no like seriously he's the best boy)

Lan Sizhui does not usually find himself in the company of Sect Leader Jiang.

Suffice to say, Lan Sizhui's feelings toward him are conflicted.

lan wangji is wei wuxian's baby by lilycs (3K, i was craving fluff while reading this, lwj my beloved, drunk!lwj)

Lan Wangji gets drunk from barely a cup of alcohol, becoming a whiny baby and asking his husband for cuddles.

one of our own by glitteringmoonlight (8K, wei wuxian & lan sect, 5+1 things, in which they learn to love him, they're all part of the wwx protection squad lead by lwj, wangxian isn't the focus but !!! THIS)

Times change, but some people remain the same.

The Lans are nothing, if not aware of this.

For one of their own, they will stand against the world.

Or, 5 times the Lans defended Wei Wuxian, and the 1 time he was there to see it happen.

so why not crack your skull when the mind swells by @greenteafiend (13K, love curse, post cql canon, curses, getting together, fluff, so much fluff, lwj tries to talk about his emotions!, lwj pov)

Lan Wangji detects the curse trying to curl through his heart meridians like smoke. A love curse, then. It must have been cast remotely somehow to have found him in his bed in Cloud Recesses. No matter. Lan Wangji crushes it easily, enveloping it in his spiritual energy, and then squeezing. Curse averted, Lan Wangji closes his eyes and goes back to sleep. He thinks no more of it.

Two days later, Wei Wuxian arrives in Cloud Recesses.

Or, Wei Wuxian is cursed to feel terrible pain when he and Lan Wangji aren’t touching.

i started from the bottom / now i'm rich by x_los (57K, time travel, fix it, jealous lwj, crack treated serious, god this is so good tho, wwx/wrh & wwx/jgs but like as a joke and it doesn't really happen, but it has its purpose!!)

“First, you get the money. Then you get the power, respect - hos come last.”

 

Wen Qing traps Wei Wuxian in the Demon Slaughtering Cave, but Wei Wuxian isn’t interested in being the beneficiary of the Wen Remnants’ noble sacrifice. His efforts to free himself accidentally send him back to the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign. Coreless but armed with demonic cultivation, knowledge of the future and his wits, Wei Wuxian takes advantage of this opportunity to come out on top of both the war and its aftermath—before either has a chance to happen—by marrying and swiftly burying the cultivation world’s worst men.

Lan Wangji is confused, hurt, and uncomfortably aroused by Wei Wuxian’s improbably elaborate series of Sect-themed bridal negligees.

lead me on through by mrsronweasley (55K, they're in love your honor, arranged marriage but they don't know to whom, basically wwx & lwj want to practice kissing which then goes beyond kissing but not the whole way y'know, lxc the best wingman tho)

"Who do you think your betrothed is?" Wei Wuxian asks, sprawling out in front of Lan Zhan and enjoying the prim thinning of his lips at the question. He shouldn't be sprawling—they're in the library, for one, and Lan Zhan is studying, for another—but he can't help himself. Wei Wuxian is a sprawler.

"I do not believe this to be of importance," Lan Zhan responds, without turning his gaze away from his book.

"What!" Wei Wuxian sits up. "How can you say that? Of course it's important! This is the person you'll be with for the rest of your life, Lan Zhan."

[badgirlcovenrep]

omg chenrich prompts? hell yeah!! Okay so how about immediately after the council meeting? Steph taking Alex to the hospital because u KNOW its steph who takes her to get treated

As is expected I got a little carried away 😁

So this is a bit of a mix between chenrich in the hospital and medical grade painkillers Alex lol

Hope you enjoy!

No one could have prepared them for that community meeting. Steph shook all over just to think of Jed luring Alex into the woods. Of him leaving her for dead in some awful mining hole.

It made her so furious. Even hearing him cry, blabbering like a sad shadow of the man she'd known (the man that was all a charismatic lie, showmanship, to hide the disgusting truth) her anger, her hurt was too fresh for the girl to gather any sort of sadness for him.

"I'm sorry, Ryan," Alex repeats, standing at the bar with them.

Ryan is staring, speechless, at his father's crying shadow.

"I'm so sorry-" she tries to take a step forward, but her feet falter, and Alex nearly topples over to the ground, grunting in pain as Steph jumps to hold her elbow and help steady her into the floor once again.

"Fuck, Alex, you need a doctor." Steph insists. But Alex is looking at Ryan with so much concern that she can't get her to move.

"It's not your fault, okay?" Ryan finally speaks, breaking out of whatever haze he'd been in to look back at her, "It's not your fault. I just- need a moment to process all this. Go with Steph, you're hurt."

Alex finally looks at her then, and Steph can feel herself plead with her eyes - because she might not know a lot about these sorts of injuries but she's smart enough to know - just by the way she's swaying back and forth on unsteady feet - they probably have another minute, at most, before Alex collapses.

"You did it." Steph mumbles, voice filling with unbridled pride as well as urgency, touching down Alex's arm to hold her cold hand, "You did it, ok? You can settle down now."

Her brown eyes are hazy, blinking back to Steph with rapidly heavying eyelids.

"Good. That's- That's good." Alex slurs back, the last reminiscent of adrenaline leaking out of her body in a heavy huff, "very, very good-"

Steph barely has a second to process what is happening before Alex's body gives out. By some miracle, she's able to flip her arms around her shoulders just fast enough to stop her from falling to the ground.

****

Pike helps her take Alex to the local hospital before going back to deal with Jed's arrest.

It's a small hospital and probably has about ten rooms, but given that these sorts of things (bad things) rarely ever happen in Haven Springs, they're quickly given a private room, and Alex is just conscient enough (before she passes out from the painkillers) to tell the staff she could stay.

Steph doesn't think she would have left either way. Not without knowing Alex was alright, but it's good to have permission to sit by her as she fluttered in and out of drug-induced, heavy sleep.

The doctor had given her the run-down of the other girl's injuries. Five broken ribs, stage two trauma to the head - probable concussion to be assessed once she was more awake - a punctured lung, internal bleeding all around the ribcage, and a bullet wound to the shoulder.

She was an absolute mess of scars. A walking, breathing miracle.

Steph had heard the doctor talking to the police when she stepped out to get some snacks at the vending machines. "She should be dead." He said, with such conviction and surprise, it made her stomach turn.

Steph felt that she could do nothing but sit by Alex's sleeping form, slowly realizing that she was absolutely screwed. Because she already liked this girl way too much - and God, what a roller-coaster of emotion she'd been put on the last month - but how could she not? When Alex just waltzed into everyone's lives like this determined, selfless little light? When she was so obviously a rare soul, made of so much sweetness, and softness, and strength, Steph doubted she'd ever come across someone like her again?

Looking at the circumstances from the other side now, it seemed as inevitable as any of it.

"I can feel you thinking." Alex's voice startles her out of her thoughts. Steph looks up to meet her tired brown eyes, looking so soft and vulnerable without her glasses and surrounded by clean hospital sheets, "You've been broody lately."

Steph giggles, choking on her own emotion, "Guess I'm still mad about Jed." It's not a lie. She is upset. But there was a lot more than that, more about how her insides swelled with emotion when Alex looked at her - but she leaves it the way it is.

"I forgave him." She shrugs. And Steph knows she did, she was there after all, but that didn't mean the drummer was quite as ready herself.

"Well, I didn't." And maybe that makes her childish - resentful - but she can't take the image of him pointing a gun at Alex out of her head. The image of him pulling the trigger, sending her off to what could very well have been death - "at least you made him cry like a baby."

"Jerk." Alex smiles, eyes squinting back at her in humorous indignation before they slowly turn more vulnerable as she adjusts herself on the mattress, patting the empty space beside her body, "Can you- come lie down with me?"

There's nothing, truly, that Steph would have liked more. She would take any chance of being closer to Alex (and of getting off the uncomfortable hospital chair) but she was also still afraid - still scared something might go wrong and they'd lose her. "Are you sure? You're hurt."

"Please?" Alex pleads, blinking back at her with honest-to-God puppy eyes, even if still a little glassed-over from the amount of Vicodin they were pumping into her veins. For the umpteenth time in the past few days, Steph has even more confirmation that she is screwed.

Because, honestly, there's nothing Alex couldn't get her to do with just a slow blink of her brown eyes.

So she gets up and climbs into bed with her. It's incredibly tight for two people, and they are instantly pressed together as Alex scoots over the pillow so they can look at each other, alone in this hospital room that smelled like industrial-grade detergent.

Alex reaches forward and takes her cheeks between her palms, so very close Steph can't help but catalog all the cuts and bruises covering her face.

"You're so pretty." The girl says, finally, and Steph can hear the tiny slur in her voice. She's probably still drunk on a shit ton of medicine, but it does nothing to stop the drummer from blushing profusely, "you're, really, really pretty. Have I told you that?"

"Hm- yeah you sorta- do that when you're on painkillers." Steph comments, and her eyes can't help but fall to Alex's mouth.

She has a tiny cut on her lower lip, and Steph's fingers itch to touch it. To feel her skin again, like that night on the roof, when she felt so warm and tingly, like a live wire of electricity that could swallow Steph whole. For now, she holds her distance.

"But it's true." Alex pouts, "and you're really hot when you're protective too."

Now that- that was different from anything she'd said before. And when she looks up, the girl realizes Alex's eyes have turned to stare at Steph's lips too.

"Yeah?" She asks, a little too cocky given the situation, but oh well, you can't blame her for the swell of pride that takes over her chest.

"Yeah." Alex teases back, "Thank you. For taking care of me. For being mad at Jed for me- even if you can't do anything about it." Her tone turns sincere, and her eyes flutter everywhere but Steph's face, Alex's dead giveaway that she was trying to hold something back.

"Oh please, I'll rip his mustache off." Steph jokes, because it's her default strategy when she doesn't quite know what to do, "You have lost your right to upstanding citizen facial hair, sir!"

"Fuck, Steph, don't make me laugh." Alex says as a few stolen giggles escape her lips, creating ripples across her shattered chest that made her hiss with pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Steph apologizes, and on instinct, she leans closer to run her hands over Alex's arm in reassurance, holding the weight of her body above Alex with her elbow.

From this angle, they were even closer, and Steph was staring at her from above, watching Alex smile at her, head on the pillow and a half-lidded, humorous expression on her face.

"Oh, this is nothing. Just a few cuts compared to my fighting days." She jokes, and Steph's heart is filled with so much concern, so much love for this girl she can't help but fluster with anger.

"Shut up. You're gonna hurt yourself if you don't take it seriously." Steph says, "you're like, seriously hurt, Alex, you could have died."

Steph wants to ask, but Alex's free hand reaches forward and pulls her closer, fist tightening around the collar of her button-up shirt, and suddenly they are so close her hand shakes with the itch to touch her, "See? Protective Steph is so hot."

"I know. I'm sorry." Alex has the decency to look reprimanded, smoothing one hand over Steph's shoulder in a simple act that sends calming waves over Steph's flushed skin, "I'm okay. I promise" she's being sincere, Steph knows she is by the way she frowns slightly in concern. However, there's a quiet, teasing smile spreading across her face.

And Steph honestly used to think she was smooth.

She made girls blush by the minute. Awoke the bisexuality in at least a few of her drunk makeouts on the way from California to here. She used to be a real flirt, ready for anything a pretty girl could throw her way. But sitting here, with her torso half hovering over Alex Chen's body, her tongue feels heavy, and her brain can't conjure a single thing to offer in response.

It's at least a relief that she doesn't say anything, because a second later, Alex is smiling at her with her coy, knowing little smirk, and pulling her in for a kiss.

Steph is far too focused on not crushing her further, very deliberately placing her hands on both sides of her head to better hold her weight, but she still feels the strong, dizzying zap of electricity as Alex's lips touch hers, her lungs filling with liquid, warm waves of emotion.

And maybe, Steph thinks, it'd be fine if she never breathed air again.

[angelicyoongie]

Out of the Woods (II)

— pairing: wolf hybrid namjoon x human f!reader — genre: fluff, angst, slight smut — word count: 5.5K — warnings: injury, blood, mentions of past abuse — summary: Promising Jihyo that you were going to stay away from your writing for one weekend had been easy in theory, but much harder to actually do once you reached the little cabin the woods. To make matters worse, the only thing that rivals your inability to keep promises is your terrible luck – and after a particularly bad choice leads you to get lost in the mountains, you suppose that it's only karma that you end up face to face with a wolf that looks ready to rip your throat out.

Part I / II / III

You stare at the hand wrapped tightly around yours as the wolf hybrid leads you down the rest of the slope. You can still feel the imprint of his chest against your back, the lingering heat from his body still wrapped around yours. The ghost of his raspy, smooth voice brushing over your ear, his words branded into your chest.

Please don’t leave me.

You wince with each step, the dull pain in your ankle growing harder to ignore. You can see the muscles in his golden arms tense as your step falters, the wolf hybrid’s grip tightening before you can stumble down the last stretch of the incline. He’s keeping your hand almost at height with his shoulders, making it easier for you to borrow some support as you hobble forward.

You keep yourself focused on his hand, on how his long and slender fingers are enveloping yours. They’re a little rough against your skin, but they’re still pretty. Your cheeks are flushed red as you limp forward, but you blame that on the near death experience you just had – and certainly not on the hybrid’s thumb absentmindedly running over your knuckles every few steps. And it’s definitely not because the man in front of you is completely naked. The close proximity means that the expanse of the hybrid’s broad back fills most of your vision, but you’re not willing to take any chances. His body isn’t there for you to ogle at. So, his hand is a good, safe, place for you eyes to latch on to. The hybrid clearly doesn’t have any qualms about his lack of clothes, and it makes you wonder just how long he’s been out here on his own – how long he’s been alone.

You swallow thickly as the ground underneath your feet begins to flatten out, the strain on your ankle becoming a little less painful. You can probably walk on your own now, but it doesn’t seem like the wolf hybrid has any plans of letting you do that, his fingers wrapping even more firmly around yours as you try to let go of his hand. You see a few faint marks on the inside of his wrist, but the angle his hold your hand makes it too difficult to make anything out. If anything, it’s likely just some scratches from the wilderness. You can’t help but notice that one of his gray ears seem to be permanently turned in your direction, only twitching when you let out little huffs of air.

He hasn’t spoken since he uttered those four words – not since he begged you to stay, and the only thing you could think to do was shakily step out of his embrace and ask him to bring you back down. You can’t stay. You're not quite sure why the realization makes you feel so torn. Sure, the hybrid has taken care of you, but you don’t really know him. Hell, you don’t even know his name. But still, your heart stutters painfully as you remember the desperation in his voice, the subdued whine that escaped his lips as you pulled away. The hybrid had only given you a curt nod in response to your request, his back turned to you and hand outstretched before you could even get a good look on his face.

You sneak a quick peek at his profile as he helps you along the path, your breath getting caught in your throat as you catch a glimpse of his strong jaw and oh no, is that a dimple? The wolf hybrid’s silver ears and messy hair compliments his sunkissed skin beautifully, and there is no doubt in your mind that this man must be stunning. Maybe it’s a good thing you haven’t gotten a good look at his face yet, getting weak in the knees sounds like bad plan when you’re already one foot down. You quickly push the thoughts away, turning your attention back to the forest in front of you. You swear something about it looks a little more familiar than before. You only need to hobble through the forest for another few minutes before you realize why.

The wolf hybrid has lead you straight to the lake you and Jihyo passed two days ago, the exact one you were trying to find when you managed to get lost. The weather might be slightly gloomier today, but it still looks absolutely breathtaking as you draw closer. The tension in your shoulders ease up as you realize just how close you are to the cabin, it probably won’t take much longer than an hour to get back even with your throbbing foot. Which is great, but the release of tension also makes you acutely aware of just how irritated your ankle truly is, and it feels like it might break clean off if you don’t get a break soon.

“Can we, uh, rest for a little while? My foot ..” You trail off uncertainly, watching as the hybrid’s head cocks in your direction. He stops in his tracks, ears swivelling around rapidly as he listens to the forest, his grip still tight around yours. He gives you another nod after a few seconds of silence, steering you carefully over to a fallen log. You close your eyes in relief as you sit down, a groan falling from your lips as you finally get the chance to alleviate the pressure on your ankle.

“Thank you,” You murmur, glancing down at your foot as you try to best position to rest it in. You freeze as you see the wolf hybrid’s bare feet out of the corner of your eye, heat creeping up your neck as you realize the position you’ve put yourself in. You’re at eye-level with his dick. There’s no way to look up at him without seeing it, and that’s not something you want to deal with right now.

“Here," You hastily shrug off your windbreaker, offering it out for the hybrid with a grimace, “you can use it to cover up.” Rough fingers brush over your own as the wolf hybrid grabs your jacket, presumably–hopefully–wrapping it around his waist as you keep your eyes firmly on the ground. You don’t dare lift your gaze until the hybrid sinks down on the log next to you with a huff, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest as you find his eyes already locked onto your face. 

The wolf hybrid is beautiful. Your lips part open in surprise as you take in his face, the slight pout to his lips and the gentleness in his expression leaving you a little breathless. He looks kind. Sweet. You don’t understand how someone like him could be left out here all alone.

“I-I'm sorry,” The wolf hybrid cowers under your stunned gaze, his ears falling flat against his head. “Should I stay .. wolf? You upset,” His voice is hoarse and pained as he stutters out his words, his lips forming awkwardly around the syllables. The intention behind his words hits you like a slap to the face. He thinks you don’t like his human form, and he’s willing to turn back to not make you upset.

“No!” You blurt, “I mean, I’m uh, not upset. If you want to, please stay in your human form. It’s nice to be able to talk to you.” The wolf hybrid doesn’t quite seem to believe you, his ears pressing even flatter against his head as he shakes his head.

“What’s your name?” 

The hybrid's mouth is pressed into a thin line, and for a second you think he might not answer, but then he mutters out a soft, “Namjoon.”

“Namjoon?” You echo, finding you like the way his name rolls off your tongue. The wolf hybrid’s ears perk up at the sound of his name, the bushy tail behind his back doing a startled wag as Namjoon’s eyes find yours. You give him a soft smile, rubbing your hands nervously at your thighs as you finally ask the question that has been burning away at your curiosity for the past few hours.

“Why are you out here all alone?” The muscles in Namjoon's shoulders tense at your question, the warmth in his golden brown eyes hardening into something you can’t quite decipher. The wolf hybrid looks ready to bolt any second, his eyes flickering around the forest as he says, “Ran way .. bad place. No going back.”

You detest that you’re not even surprised, that the mistreatment of hybrids is so common that it has become almost more normal than treating them like actual human beings. The wolf hybrid looks to be your age, maybe even a little older, and it makes your stomach drop to think about just how many years he must’ve spent out here in his animal form for speech to become this hard – for it to become a struggle.

“I’m so sorry Namjoon, it must’ve been hard being all alone up here,” Your fingers twitch against your thigh, resisting the urge to reach out for him.

“Not alone now, have you,” Namjoon’s raspy voice sends a shiver down your spine, the certainty laced with his next word making your heart skip a beat. “Pack.” The wolf hybrid carefully reaches out for your hand, slowly wrapping his fingers around yours as he watches your mind trying to process his words.

You know it normally takes a long time for a hybrid to consider someone, especially humans, to be a part of their pack, so the fact that Namjoon refers to you as his after only a few days leaves you stunned – and a little bit out of your depth. Then again, Namjoon’s situation isn’t exactly normal. Usually hybrids are much more in-tune with both their human and animal side, but from what you can gather, it doesn’t seem like Namjoon has tapped into his humanity in years. It would make sense for his animal instincts to be more dominant, for doubt and hesitation to take a backseat. But still, his pack?

You catch the slight motion as the wolf hybrid’s eyes stray to your neck, the memory hitting you at full force now that you realize the implications behind your actions. In the midst of your panic when you thought Namjoon was going to tear you limb from limb, you had bared you neck. You had submitted. And Namjoon had accepted you. You wince, sucking in a deep breath as unease swirls in your stomach. Even if you weren’t aware of what you were doing at the time, this is still your fault. You really want to fix this whole mess, but you fear that the one thing you can’t do for him, is the only thing the hybrid wants.

“Namjoon,” You hesitate as you feel his tail wag happily against the log, the words feeling heavy on your tongue as you say, “I can’t stay.” A lull falls over the forest as the rhythmic thumping stops, the grip around your hand slackening as the wolf hybrid hangs his head.

He keeps his eyes on the ground as he whispers out a broken, “Don’t go.” You feel your heart ache as you watch him open and close his mouth, the furrow between his brows deepening as he can’t seem to find the words he needs. “Take care of you. Please.” You think it might hurt less if you just let the wolf hybrid rip you to shreds instead, the pained desperation in his voice making you eyes sting.

“I’m sorry,” You mutter, “I need to go home.” The word leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. Home. At the start of your trip you couldn’t wait to return to your apartment, but when you really think about it, have you ever truly considered it home? Sure, you've managed to make it nice and cozy over the last years, but there’s no warmth there, no sense of belonging. Still – you can’t stay here in the mountains.

Namjoon’s ears are pressed flat against his head, his expression turning blank as he withdraws his hand. “Okay,” The wolf hybrid’s jaw is tense as he stares out at the lake, his gaze empty and distant. You ignore the throbbing in your foot as you clamber back up to your feet, taking a few steps forward as you take in the sight of the lake for the last time. The scattered wildflowers don’t seem as charming anymore, and the large body of water suddenly feels more imposing than welcoming. You freeze as Namjoon lets out a low groan, the sound suddenly transforming into a whimper behind your back. You nearly jolt out of your skin as something wet touches your hand, a warm breath spilling across your fingers as you look down. You meet Namjoon’s golden eyes, the wolf letting out a small huff before he nudges your windbreaker closer to your feet. You don’t know why it feels like a defeat that he transformed back, but you can’t shake the hollow feeling in your chest as you thread your fingers into his fur, jacket wrapped around your waist as he leads you back to the cabin.

The wolf’s ears starts to flicker a few minutes before you can pick up Jihyo’s frantic speech in the distance, the dark roof of the cabin coming into view. You’re a little off the trail, the forest much denser around this side of the clearing. Namjoon suddenly halts as he reaches the edge, and you wince from the extra force on your foot as you stumble to catch yourself. The wolf’s tail is tucked between his legs, a pitiful whimper filling the silence as you gently untangle your hand from his fur. You brush it down carefully, already missing the coarse yet soft hairs tickling against your skin as you take a step back.

“Thank you Namjoon,” You swallow around the lump in your throat, forcing your lips into a soft smile as you gaze down at him. The wolf turns his head back to the forest, golden eyes scanning the area before he quickly pushes his head against your hand, guiding your palm over the fur between his ears. Your knees go weak with fondness as you pat his head, the wolf swiping his tongue over the exposed skin of your wrist as you scratch behind his ears. It’s Namjoon that reluctantly pulls away first, his golden eyes soft yet sad as he pushes his snout one last time against your palm. He sits down with a huff, turning his head in the direction of the cabin. The message is clear; he’s not leaving until you are. The goodbye grows and dies in your mouth, your lips refusing to let it slip past as you look down at him. You spare him one last glance, trying to commit as much of him to memory as you can, before you stumble out of the tree line.

It only takes a few steps before you hear Jihyo’s shrill, “Y/n!” and you watch as your friend sprints across the field to meet you. Jihyo knocks into you so hard you nearly topple over, her arms wrapped around your body so tightly you almost fear she’ll squeeze you to death.

“Where were you? What happened? Oh my god, you’re hurt!–” You let Jihyo’s concerned rambling distract you from the empty feeling in your stomach, each step feeling heavier than the last as she helps you walk back to the cabin. You spare one last glance over your shoulder, hoping to maybe see a flash of silver through the trees, but there’s nothing.

Namjoon is gone.

And you’re both alone again.

It was all a rush after you returned. Jihyo had been searching for you night and day, a few of her father’s best employees helping out. The road up to the cabin had been cleared, so instead of having to trek down on your sprained ankle, Jihyo had whisked you away in a car with the destination set for the closest hospital. It took a while before you could collect your thoughts enough to tell her what happened, the words sounding ridiculous even to your own ears as you retold the story.

Jihyo had a deep frown on her face from the hospital to your apartment, uncharacteristically silent as she helped you to your couch. Sinking down on the mountain of plush pillows felt like heaven after sleeping on the ground for two nights, your limbs tired and aching. You really need a shower, but the temptation to rest your foot for an hour is frankly too strong. You watch as Jihyo raids your fridge for drinks and food, the frown not leaving her lips until you’ve stuffed your face with a sandwich.

“Why didn’t you just ask him to come with you?” You nearly choke on a piece of bread at her sudden question, quickly taking a sip of water to chase it down.

“What do you mean?” You croak.

“Well, it’s not like he specifically asked you to stay up in the mountains right? He only asked that you would stay with him. I’m not sure how much I like this, but he did take care of you, and he brought you back safely. If he wanted to hurt you he had many opportunities to do so,” Jihyo purses her lips, her eyes flickering around the room. 

"You seem .. smitten. I can remember the last time you looked so fond talking about someone else. It seems like he already considers you to be his pack, so if you want to, I don’t see any harm in asking him to come home with you,” You feel a steady blush rise in your cheeks as Jihyo talks, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of having Namjoon here in your apartment. You couldn’t ..

"It’s not natural or healthy for hybrids to be alone and shifted for such a long time, so you would honestly be doing him a favour. Even if he doesn’t stay with you, he needs to get checked-up.” You find yourself nodding along to Jihyo’s words before you can stop yourself, her eyebrows rising in amusement. She is right, after all. Even if Namjoon doesn’t want to stay, it’s important to make sure he’s healthy. Even you go in for yearly check-ups, and you’re sure it’s been far too long since Namjoon did the same. You have to go back and find him.

“But–” Jihyo presses a finger to your chest, “you’re not going anywhere yet. The doctor said full rest for a week, so that’s what you’re going to do.” She shakes her head before you can protest, giving you a stern look as she says, “You’re in no condition to go after him now, you need to heal up if you want to find him again. I’ve seen enough animal planet to know that wolves have pretty big territories, and you won’t be able to cover that much ground with a sprained ankle.” You sink back down in the couch with a disgruntled sound, hating the fact that she’s completely right. You’ll have to wait until you’ve healed. You just hope it won’t be too late.

“Namjoon?” You wince at the rawness in your throat, your voice ringing through the silent forest. You’ve been out here for hours, but no matter where you go, there’s no sign of the wolf hybrid. You even managed to get back to the little cave Namjoon had brought you to, but that too was completely untouched. The only trail you had is dead. The area you’ve ventured into is much denser and harder to navigate, but you refuse to leave until you find him.

You grumble under your breath as a branch almost whacks you straight in the face, and you push it away with a little more force than necessary as you trek on deeper into the woods. Your ankle has healed up nicely, but there’s still a dull ache from the amount of walking you’re putting yourself through. The sprain wasn’t all that bad; it was mostly just the fact that you kept aggravating it that made it so painful. A week of rest did you wonders, and a little bit of discomfort is a price you’re more than willing to pay if it means you’ll find Namjoon again.

“Namjoon?” You call out again, halting in your tracks as you strain to listen for any sounds out of the ordinary. You let out a sigh at the silence that greets you, shaking your head lightly as you take a step forward. You freeze as your foot connect with the ground, a distant howl echoing through the forest. Namjoon.

You can barely even hear the second howl over the frantic beat of your own heart as you take off, stumbling and tripping over roots and twigs as you run in what you hope is the right direction. The mountain is disorienting at best, but you have no fear of getting lost this time. Jihyo made sure you would be properly prepared. 

It’s not until the fourth howl that you realize two things – one, the sound is much closer than you anticipated, and two, it sounds pained. You urge your legs to move faster, your gaze shifting wildly over your surroundings as you call out for him again. You swear you see a flash of silver behind a cluster of trees, and you quickly switch your direction, running straight for what you hope is the wolf hybrid.

“Namjo–” You choke as you skid to a stop, your stomach dropping so fast it leaves you feeling dizzy.

Blood. There’s so much blood. Namjoon’s gray fur is stained with it, the hairs matted and red. You can see the rusted metal of an old bear trap clamped tightly around one of his hind legs, the bone snapped in an awkward angle. Oh god. A pained whine rips you out of your building panic, and the sight of the wolf hybrid attempting to drag himself closer to you despite the trap on his leg finally jolts you back into action.

“No no no, stay still!” You cry as you scramble forward, your stomach doing a dangerous flip as the metallic scent of Namjoon’s blood washes over you. The wolf hybrid is panting as you drop to your knees in front of him, his ears plastered against his skull as he lets out low whimper.

“It-it’s going to be okay,” You hear your voice tremble as you reach out for his head, gently cupping his cheeks between your hands. Namjoon lets the tension in his neck drop the moment you get your hands on him, his head heavy in your hold as you run your fingers over his fur. The wolf hybrid’s body is shaking, his golden eyes barely open as he lets out another whine. You have no idea how many hours he’s been like this, but it’s been too long. He's lost way too much blood.

“You’re going to be fine Namjoon,” You swallow down the bile in your throat as you shuffle around, shifting your hold to gently place his head in your lap. He immediately tries to shuffle closer, not giving up until he’s plastered against your stomach.

“Just, don’t shift, okay? Please don’t shift,” You hastily dig your burrowed phone out of your pocket, vision blurry as you type in Jihyo’s number. Seeing Namjoon’s human form might make it easier to gauge his injuries, but if he shifts while he’s still trapped, you have no doubt it’s just going to tear his leg up even more. 

He lets out a whine as you hands leave his fur, his eyes almost rolled back into his head from the pain. The leg that’s trapped doesn’t even twitch, and Namjoon’s body feels horribly cold as you hurry to run your hands over his fur.

“Y/n? Did you find him?” Jihyo’s voice has never sounded more angelic than when she picks up the phone, you body sagging with relief.

“You can track my location, right? It’s Namjoon–” You force down the sob bubbling in your throat as the wolf hybrid whimpers at the sound of his name, the sound soft and weak. “–he’s hurt.”

“Excuse me,” You whip your head up at the sound of someone clearing their throat, a rather frazzled nurse standing in front you. “Are you here with the wolf hybrid? Kim Namjoon?”

“I am. Is something wrong?” You push out of the plastic chair with a wince, ignoring the queasy feeling in your stomach. It’s been hours since you arrived at the hospital, but the image of Namjoon’s blood pooling around his body doesn’t seem to want to let go of you just yet.

“He’s–" The nurse let out a deep sigh, “I think you need to come with me.” She turns on her heel, motioning for you to follow without another word. Oh god, what if he’s dead? The wolf hybrid had been rushed into an emergency operation immediately upon arrival, so there wasn’t much else that you could do than wait. Hope that he would be okay. 

You hurry after the nurse, nearly tripping over your own feet at quick speed she keeps as she marches down the hall. You’ve barely managed to catch up when she halts outside a door, an exasperated expression on her face as she says, “We’re keeping him under observation for now and he’s not really supposed to have any visitors yet, but he’s being … difficult.” You jump as something clatters to the ground inside the room, the deep growl hardly even muffled by the closed door.

“He’s a still a little out of it, but not dangerous. You’ll see what I mean,” With that, the nurse pushes the door open, stepping aside to allow you entry into Namjoon’s room. You suck in a breath as you step inside, the floor littered with scattered papers and trays. Namjoon is perched up in bed, a heavy cast around his leg. Whatever they were trying to do, the wolf hybrid obviously wasn’t having it. He’s twisted towards the doctor by his side, the man keeping a good distance from the injured hybrid as he let out another harsh growl. You stare in shock as Namjoon bares his teeth, his posture rigid and tense as he eyes the doctor distrustfully. The doctor notices you before Namjoon does, a soft 'thank god' muttered under his breath as he waves for you to come closer.

“Hey Namjoon,” The wolf hybrids nose wrinkles just as your soft voice carries across the room, his ears springing up on his head as he shifts his attention to you.

“Y/n,” Namjoon’s eyes light up as he catches sight of you, his hands practically tearing up the bed sheets as he tries to untangle himself. The action feels awfully familiar to when he tried to drag himself closer despite the bear trap, and you have no intention of watching him trying to walk on his broken leg.

“I thought I told you to stop moving,” You rush forward before he can get himself fully out of bed, pushing him back with a firm shove to his chest. Namjoon falls back without protest, his wide eyes scanning over your face as a loopy smile blooms on his lips.

“Sorry,” He rasps as he engulfs your hand with his, keeping it tucked securely against his body. You can feel the steady thrum of his heart against your palm, beating in rhythm with the soft beeps from the monitor he’s hooked up to.

“We were trying to explain to Mr. Kim that we need to do some tests, but he doesn’t quite seem to share the same sentiment,” The doctor glances back towards the door as a the nurse brings in a new tray of equipment, a weary frown on his face as he picks up a shot. The growl builds in Namjoon’s throat so fast you nearly jump out of your skin, the hold he has around your hand feels like he’s two seconds away from snapping it in half.

“It’s okay, it’s just some standard shots,” You hesitantly bring your hand up to his face, slowly turning his head back in your direction.

“You haven’t had check-ups in a while right?” The wolf hybrid shakes his head, his ears twitching as his attention flickers back and fourth between you and the doctor. “It’s just to make sure you stay healthy.” Namjoon nuzzles against your hand with a soft whimper as you run your thumb along his cheek.

“Makes me feel .. bad. Sleepy,” Namjoon’s speech seems to flow a little easier than it did a week ago, but the struggle to find the right words is still there, his brows furrowing in concentration as he whispers, "Don’t like it.”

You swallow thickly, your stomach in knots as you ask, “Did your owner give you those? The shots that made you sleepy?” The wolf hybrid makes a low sound of agreement, his ears turning back. The marks on his wrist you couldn’t figure out, they’re needle marks. You’ve heard of it before, how some owners would drug their more exotic hybrids to keep them calm and docile – to silence the part of their genetics that make them so unique. You glance down at Namjoon, the wolf hybrid staring up at you with so much vulnerability and trust that the thought of someone taking advantage of that it makes you feel ill.

“These won’t make you feel that way, I promise.” You muster up the warmest smile you can manage as you peek over at the doctor, a silent plea in your eyes.

“Oh! Don’t worry Mr. Kim, there are no side effects to these shots. You’ll hardly even notice it,” The doctor quickly adds as he takes a careful step forward. Namjoon lets out a slow breath, golden eyes finding yours and his tail draping across his lap as he grumbles out a hesitant “Okay.”

“–All done!” You can see the doctor’s shoulders visibly drop as he finally gets the chance to move back, obviously relieved to put some distance between himself and Namjoon. “I’ll be back later to check on your leg and make sure everything is okay.” The sour expression on Namjoon’s face softens as the doctor hurries out the door, the grip around your hand loosening slightly as it clicks shut behind him.

“May I speak with you outside alone for a minute, miss?” You look up at the nurse as she finishes placing a band-aid on Namjoon’s arm, the empty shots rolling around in the tray as she picks it up.

“Oh, sure,” Namjoon lets out a whine as you try to step away, lips formed into a soft pout as you gently extract your hand from his grip. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back,” You give his shoulder a squeeze before you follow the nurse out, shooting Namjoon what you hope is a comforting smile over your shoulder. The wolf hybrid keeps his eyes trained on you as you leave, his distressed gaze still burning into your back as you close the door behind you. You only take a few steps down the hall before the nurse turns to face you, her expression troubled as she looks you up and down, “I take it he’s not your hybrid?”

“No, he’s not,” You quickly shake your head. “I came across him up in the mountains. He said he ran away from his old owner, and that it was a ‘bad place’. I’m pretty sure it must’ve been a couple of years at least,” You wince. The nurse nods, her gaze shifting around the busy hallway as she thinks.

“I’ll have someone look into it. We need to settle his hospital bills, and only his legal owner can do that.” She must see the way your face drops, because she quickly adds, “I could tell from his old scars that he’s likely been abused. Even if we find his owner, they’re not going to be allowed to take him home. It’ll be looked into.”

“Right, thanks.” You muster up a weak smile. You know how these things go. Even if there’s an investigation, the police are too easy to buy off. There are frankly too many cases like Namjoon’s, and too few cops that actually treat their abuse seriously.

“Can I stay with him until his owner shows up?”

“It’s a little unorthodox, but yes, you can. I don’t think he’ll actually stay inside his room if you don’t.” The nurse lets out a huff, a flash of amusement in her eyes as she waves for you to go back inside. “I’ll let you know once we figure it out, it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Thank you.”

Turning to face Namjoon’s door, you try to shake off the anxious feeling festering in your stomach. You’re not going to let him go back to his old owner. You’re honestly not even sure how you’ve managed to grow attached so quickly, but there’s just something about the wolf hybrid that makes you ready to fight tooth and nail for his safety and happiness – even if it means he won’t find it with you.

a/n: ahah heyy ... let's just ignore that it took me two months to update this, okay? thank you aksjsk. i decided to split the last part into two, to give myself more time to write a little bit of extra fluff (and smut)! so the third and final part is hopefully coming next week, but if not, it will at least be posted by the end of november. namjoon's speech will get better in the next part and we will learn more about him + his and y/n's relationship will grow! if you like the story then please drop me a reblog/comment, that would mean the world to me! (ps. this story has no tag list!)

as always, see you all soon and stay safe! <3 and in case you enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖

[ponds-puddle]

Crushes ~{Bakugo}~

*NOT MY ART*

word count: 1952

-

Stop acting so childish. Do you realize how pathetic you look right now? Seriously. It’s pathetic. He was never going to be yours to begin with, so why are you so upset? You knew that he would never love you back. Why would he? And when did you become so pitiful? You used to be so strong, so independent. All you are now is worthless. No meaning. No purpose. Nothing. All you are is a mistake. All you do is mess up and let people down. Look at you. Look in the mirror. You’re hideous. Everyone thinks so. Look. Look at yourself. LOOK.

“Wake up, loser,” Bakugo huffed, nudging your face lightly with his knuckles. You made a small hmph sound, pressing your cheek onto his hand. The explosive boy blushed at the motion, staring down at your sleeping figure. His heart broke at the level of tension that was showing on your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed and your mouth was contorted into a pained frown. 

“Y/N?” Bakugo said, this time a lot softer. He hoped that no one would wake up and find the two of you. He doubted it, the two of you woke up hours before anyone else. Knowing this, Bakugo squatted beside the couch, his hand turning to caress your face instead.

Your eyes opened slightly, the tears that had formed behind your lids were finally exposed. Bakugo felt his stomach turn at the sight of your tears. He was never good with comforting people, but in his head he knew that he’d do anything to make you smile again. 

“Hey there,” he said sweetly, brushing his thumb against your cheek. You weren’t sure you were awake. He’s never acted this way with you before, “Why’re you crying?” 

“I uh-” you couldn’t think. Not with the way his vermillion eyes kindly bore into yours, “I had a bad dream.” 

“Wanna talk about it?” he removed his hand from your face, opting to sit on the floor with his back against the couch. 

“It’s really nothing,” you said in an attempt to be nonchalant. Bakugo scoffed, dropping his head back onto the couch to look at you. 

“You know you can’t lie to me,” he said with a chuckle. You wanted to photograph him at this moment. The way his neck extended backwards had you swooning. 

“I know,” you sighed, tearing your eyes away from temptation, “I just don’t think this is something I can talk to you about. This is more Jirou, Mina, or Kaminari’s area.” 

“Why is Dunce-face included but I’m not?” 

“Denki gives better relationship advice,” you shrug, “Surprising since he’ll never be in one.” 

Bakugo snorted at your comment, but then it was like something connected in his mind, “Relationship advice? You’re in a relationship?” 

You laughed, “No I’m not in a relationship, Bakugo. I just like someone, that’s all.” 

You almost hit yourself in that moment. Despite how badly you did not want to talk about this with Bakugo, you always end up telling him the truth. It’s like you’re physically incapable of keeping things from him. However, you had kept this one secret for four years. 

“Who are they?” 

“I can’t tell you that,” you said mysteriously, pressing a finger to your lips, “It’s a secret.” 

“It’s Shitty Hair, isn’t it?” Bakugo scoffed as he crossed his arms, “I knew there was something going on between the two of you. After that night he helped you cook dinner. It’s so obvious.” 

You stared at the boy for a moment before bursting out laughing, “No it’s not Kiri!” 

“You even gave him a nickname!” Bakugo argued stubbornly.

“I’m telling you that you’re wrong!” 

“Shut up, you know I’m never wrong.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Guess there’s a first for everything because it’s not Kirishimia.”

“Then tell me who it is!” 

“No!” you laughed loudly, enjoying how frustrated the blonde boy was getting. 

“I won’t believe you that it’s not Shitty Hair until you tell me who it is!” 

“That’s so petty of you,” you tsk, shaking your head in shame. Bakugo glared at you, annoyed with how much entertainment you were getting out of this situation. 

“What will make you tell me?” 

You tapped your finger on your chin a few times, indicating that you were “thinking about it”. But then you just shrugged and said, “I guess nothing. Because I won’t tell you.” 

Bakugo huffed childishly as he stood up, “Fine, keep it to yourself then. Let’s just go make breakfast already.” 

You watched as he walked away, his steps comically wide. As if he wants the whole world to know that he was upset. All you could do was shake your head at his childishness and follow him to the kitchen. 

“What do you want to eat?” he asked gruffly, leaning against the counter. You walked over to the fridge, inspecting the ingredients. You were never good at cooking, it was mainly Bakugo. Usually he would hand you small things to cut or peel. Of course if it required a bigger knife, he was not gonna hand it over. You tried to get him to let you cut a potato when he first started teaching you to cook, but he just shut you down no matter how many times you asked. 

“I don’t really know what can be made,” you finally admitted after looking around the fridge. Bakugo sighed before walking over to you. He stood behind you, looking over you into the fridge. 

“What about an omelette?” he asked before resting his chin on your shoulder, “They’re really easy to learn. And you can cut things up for me.” 

“Can I flip it?” you asked, turning your head slightly to the side so you could give him puppy dog eyes. Bakugo looked over at you with half-lidded eyes, an unphased expression covering his face. 

“You’re cute,” he said quietly, lifting his chin to press his lips to your temple, “but absolutely not.” 

Then he took you by your shoulders and moved you so he could get the ingredients. You stood there with a dazed look on your face, your fingers brushing against his kiss. 

“What’s with you this morning, Bakugo?” you asked without thinking. The boy stayed crouched in front of the fridge, searching through the drawers. 

“What do you mean?” he asked in a huff. He knew exactly what you meant, but he wasn’t sure how to explain it to you without sounding like a freak. Hell, he couldn’t stop thinking about it either. So much that he’s been searching in the drawer for like a solid two minutes and can’t for the life of him remember what it was that he needed out of it. 

“You’ve been… different this morning?” 

Bakugo paused for a moment before sighing to himself. He closed the drawer and stood up straight, turning his body towards you. The way he held himself in that moment, the level of uncertainty that poured off of him was almost overwhelming, “Does it…” he took a breath, calming himself before continuing with a much warmer tone, “Does it bother you?” 

Vulnerability. That was a new shade of Bakugo. 

“Not knowing why you’re doing it does,” you said to the ground as you twirled your thumbs nervously, “But the actions themself don’t bother me…”

“Do you want to know the reason?” 

You looked up at him through your eyelashes before nodding. 

“I’m jealous of whoever it is you like,” he said sadly, stepping closer to you, “I’m jealous of any guy that takes your attention away from me. I’m selfish in that way. You make me selfish in that way.”

“Baku-” 

Bakugo stepped forward once more, standing within inches of you now. His hands reached out once more, his calloused hands holding your face as if it was the most precious thing he had ever possessed, “I treat you this way because it feels natural to me. Being with you feels natural to me. Does that reason scare you?” 

“Katsuki…” you tried out, your voice impossibly small. He had your face held up to look him in eyes, but that came with a disadvantage that he didn’t calculate. When his name left your mouth that way, that sweet little whisper… his face burned into a blush. And despite removing his hands from your face to cover his own, you still were able to see the bright red burning on his cheeks, “You’re the crush.” 

“Me?” he looked back towards you, his eyes widened in surprise. The blush was still evident on his face. He looked so vulnerable in that moment. That was one word that you wouldn’t ever pin to Katsuki, but right now you were witnessing a whole new side of him. He made it impossible to not love him. 

“Yeah,” you said sweetly. This time it was you who caressed the other’s face. You watched as Katsuki’s eyes gleamed at the feeling of being held. You wonder how long he’s felt this lonely. 

“I don’t get why,” he said softly, turning his face slightly away from your hand. You frowned before cupping his face in both of your hands this time. 

“Because you’re insanely strong,” you said as you placed a kiss on his right cheek, “And incredibly smart,” this time you kissed his left cheek, “Let’s not mention how handsome you are,” his forehead. 

Bakugo’s eyes dropped down to your lips as you spoke your next words, “And you make me feel safe.” 

At first you were intending on pulling his face to yours and being super cute about it, but Katsuki had a different plan. Something about hearing you say you made him feel safe brought out this whole different side of him. Different from his vulnerable side. His posture straightened almost instinctively and, when you caught on to what he was doing, you dropped your hands from his face just in time. Just in time for Katsuki to tangle his fingers into your hair, tugging your head backwards and pressing his lips hungrily against yours. You tried to suppress the small whimper from leaving your mouth, but it was no use. Katsuki swallowed the sound, stepping into you and forcing your back against the wall. Your hands desperately held onto the front of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer to you. Katsuki kept the hand wrapped in your hair, and dropped his spare hand onto your waist, gripping it tightly. 

After a moment the two of you were desperate for air and pulled apart. Katsuki kept his forehead against yours, a loving gesture. For a while the two of you just stared at each other, completely taken with one another. Katsuki smiled gently before removing your hair and holding your chin between his thumb and index finger, pressing a sweeter kiss on your lips this time. 

“Well this is new…”

Bakugo turned around to face the voice, keeping your body sheltered from whoever it might be, “Go away.” 

You slid to the side, catching the eyes of Kirishima who stood at the kitchen doors. When he saw that it was you, he smiled. 

“Hey! You told him! Good for you!” 

You winced. This wasn’t gonna be good. 

“SHITTY HAIR KNEW?”

“Technically everyone knew,” Kirishima said, nonchalantly giving you up, “Heck I think even Mi-” 

“GET OUT!” you shouted at the boy. He just laughed and turned around, headed back to his room. Katsuki looked down at you with a small grin, but it was borderline sadistic.

“Even who, Y/N?” 

“How about we try that kissing thing again?” 

“How about we make omelettes?”

“Now can I flip them?” 

Katsuki chuckled, placing a sweet kiss on your lips, “We can do it together.”

[quindolyn]

Midnight Walks || James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 4363

Note: Dedicated to 🦎anon from @/randomoutsiders blog. Where I live it’s already 84℉ so this completely feasible but if you don’t live in hell and it's still cold and wintery outside just push it back a few months.

Warnings: Insecure reader, like 2 sexual comments because I’m filthy, talk of men being pigs and not keeping their hands to themselves, lots of fluff, modern muggle au, monkey bars, public nonsexual stripping,

Masterlist

Part 2

There were ants in your bones, there must’ve been. Either that or someone was trying to feather dust their way out of them. Your entire body itched with the urge to move, to run, to scream and jump in the middle of the street. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what drove this overwhelming desire, perhaps it was some sort of primal reason coded into your DNA, alternatively maybe it was the sitting at your computer all day. One could only attend so many online classes before they went insane, and a decent way into your second semester and still no sign of going back in person anytime before the next school year. You were like a purebred who desperately needed exercise. It would’ve been a simple enough fix if it wasn’t already 10:17, the sun having set four or so hours ago, even though you lived in a pretty nice area you didn’t feel comfortable going out. Men were disgusting, and going out this late alone meant risking life and limb because too many men thought it was okay to touch what wasn’t theirs. Fucking toddlers. So instead you were forced to open your windows in attempts to replicate the natural breeze and try to find another outlet for your energy. You tried. You really did. Jumping jacks, planks, the few yoga poses you could recall off the top of your head, dancing around your house to your favorite songs, but the music didn’t feel like it usually did, even it couldn’t soothe the itching in your bones. You were fucked, simply and truly. Too energetic without the proper outlet. After none of those things worked you sat down to attempt to get some of your weekend homework done, but somewhere between ionization energy and confidence intervals you found yourself picking at your nail polish instead of paying attention to your work. Groaning you threw your head down onto your desk, wincing as the pain from the impact spread through your skull. Closing your eyes you tried to imagine it, the cool night air in your face, blowing through your mangled tresses, the thud of your feet against the pavement of the sidewalk, the feeling of the grass at the park tickling your exposed skin as you stared up at the cloudy sky, looking for stars. You swore you could almost feel it all, almost pulled into bliss when you were yanked from your reprieve by the buzzing of your phone. Groaning, you pulled your head up, it wobbled on your neck, as though it was loose and needed to be tightened. Had you wanted to you couldn’t have stopped the smile that broke across your phone when you saw the notification on your lock screen, a text from James. Can I call you? Sure. You typed out waiting anxiously for your ringtone to blare through your room. Instead you were met with another brief buzz. One second, Sirius is being an idiot. Another smile, smaller than the last, bloomed across your face, Sirius was often an idiot. Picking up your phone you pressed it to your ear just in time to hear James greet you. “Hey baby.” Loving James was potentially one of the easiest things you’d ever done, if asked you would've said it would be easier to stop breathing before you stopped loving him. There was just so much to love and as his voice tickled your ear you remembered one of the things you so loved about him, the sound of his voice. With two simple words he was able to soothe you, if only a little bit. But still the ache to be outside lessened a little. “Hi Jamsie.” You crooned into the phone as you shut down your laptop coming to the conclusion you were going to get jack shit done tonight. You distantly heard Sirius in the background but couldn’t make out any words, “Pads says hi.” James conveyed. “Hi Siri!” You yelled into the phone, you waited until the bickering and laughing on their side of the phone quieted before continuing, “Whatcha callin’ about bub?” “Missed you is all, was wondering what you were doing?” “Nothing much, tried to get some homework done.” James chuckled knowing how distracted you could get if someone wasn’t there to help you stay on track, “How’d that go?” “Not well,” You grumbled, “S’not my fault either, can’t focus. I just need some fresh air, I need to go on a walk but I can’t.” Flinging your body onto your bed and landing on your back you pulled the phone from your ear, turning it onto speaker and setting it on your belly, liking the vibrations against your body as James spoke. It was almost like he was there with you. “I’m sorry darling,” James knew exactly what you were talking about. Unlike a lot of men he wasn’t afraid to broach topics like these, he would sit and kiss your head if some guy at the grocery store had been a prick and couldn't keep his eyes or his hands off of your ass, or if one of the boys in your class had made an objectifying comment. He’d listen to you lament and apologize, on behalf of all men, for the disgusting things you were forced to deal with. He had learned a lot since you started dating, he’d always been a feminist but before you hadn’t really understood what that meant. His mother and father always made sure he was aware of gender biases and he’d heard stories of women being assaulted, harassed, discriminated against and perhaps it made him a bad person but when it happened to you, when you told him about these things it was different, it was worse, he couldn’t control the rage that bubbled up inside of him. You were (Y/N) (L/N), you were his, you deserved to be treated like royalty. No one got to disrespect you. He felt the pang in his heart when he pictured you holed up in your house, like a caged animal, desperate to get out. “I know, and I love you.” You responded, knowing he hated how you had to be afraid and cautious all the time. “I love you too.” “What were you doing before you called?” You asked after a beat. “Watching a movie with mom and Sirius.” A twinge of guilt twisted in your stomach, “Oh, you should go back to them Jamsie, I don’t want to keep you from your family.” James stopped himself before he could tell you that they’d already finished the movie as an idea hit him like most of his ideas hit him, suddenly and fleetingly. Remus once compared them to a freight train. “Okay angel, talk to you later.” “Bye, Jamsie.” He hung up immediately as the last syllable left your lips causing a frown to tug downwards at those aforementioned lips. Sure, you felt a bit guilty that he’d bailed on his mom and Sirius for you but you couldn’t help feeling a little sad that he was so ready to get rid of you the second he had a chance. Feeling all too familiar insecurity simmer from under your sternum questions popped into your head one after another. Did he really want to be with you? Was this all because he just pitied you? Were you just a substitute for Lily? Did his heart still belong to her? What did he even see in you? You couldn’t help but feel like nothing compared to her, she’s Lily Evans. And you’re, well you’re just not. Time had slipped away from you, you hadn’t realised how much until you felt your phone buzz against your stomach and saw that almost 15 minutes had passed since James had hung up on you. You only briefly noted the time before your eyes flashed down to the banner displayed across your screen, another text. Look out your window. Lifting your torso, propping yourself up on your forearms and twisted your head to see James’ smiling face plastered against your window, a huge, beautiful grin, stretching across his face. You could feel a matching one fan out across your face as you skipped to the window, pulling it open relishing in the cool breeze that let itself into your room. “Hey there handsome.” You joked. “Hey beautiful.” “What are you doing outside my window?” You were befuddled, wasn’t he supposed to be watching some Quentin Tarantino or equally violent movies that he and Siri liked? “I was thinking we could go on a walk,” He explained unabashedly. “A walk?” You asked, a blush blossoming on your face, creeping its way down your neck. “You wanted to go on one, yeah?” “I love you.” Was all you said in response, he caught you as you threw yourself into his arms, the middle of your thighs biting into the sill of your window, but you didn’t care. How could you? All you could focus on was the way his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you close to him so he could bury his nose into your hair. “Love you too darling.” There was a part of you, an admittedly large part, that wanted to stay standing there forever but the cool evening air reminded you about how much you wanted that walk. Peeling yourself away from him you placed your chin on his pectoral, not considerably comfortable for either of you, but you were close to each other, and that’s all that mattered. “Come in.” “I was waiting for you to ask.” He winked, slinging one leg over the windowsill giving him room to maneuver his rather large body through the small opening, but James had experience fitting his body into tiny things (namely your cunt). “Are your parents home?” “No, everyone’s gone for the night.” “Why didn’t you tell me baby, I would’ve come over and kept you company.” You felt heat creep back up your neck to your face, embarrassed by the answer. Though your insecurities could swallow you whole when you were alone, they seemed trivial when James was actually there, staring down at you with so much love in his eyes. “Don’t want to be clingy.” The confession bringing even more heat to your cheeks. “Never, (Y/N), absolutely never. If anyone here is clingy it's me not you.” You corrected him, “You’re wonderful.” “So are you bub.” Reassuring you he brushed a piece of hair out of your face. “Now come on! Let’s get some shoes on you and we can go out.”

James was filling up an old water bottle he found in one of the cupboards in case either of you got thirsty when you entered the kitchen, shoes and socks in hand. Your boy smiled at you, twisting the cap of the water bottle on all of the way before setting it on the countertop and moving towards you. “Want me to put your shoes on for you?” “Yes please.” You nodded, grinning cheekily. His large hands found your waist, lifting you up and setting your bum onto the cool counter. Slipping the socks from your hand he knelt down to roll them over your feet, leaving a kiss on the inside of each of your ankles. “You wanna walk to anywhere in particular?” “The park?” You offered, handing him one of your tennis shoes which were a little beat up, but still a long way from needing to be replaced. “The one with the fountain?” “Do you know of any other parks within walking distance?” You snarked, swinging your legs, feeling the need to be outside return, faster and more powerful than before. “Guess not,” He grumbled, looking up at you with a playful smile so you would know he didn’t really take your sarcasm to heart. “Hey watch it!” He chuckled when you accidentally swung your leg a little too hard and knocked his left shoulder with your socked foot. “Sorry.” You apologized looking about as sorry as Sirius usually did when he was apologizing, which honestly wasn’t much. “There you go Cinderella.” He said, as he pat your thigh once he finished tying your laces, rising from his kneeling position. “You think you’re funny do you Potter?” “In fact I do (L/N).” He grinned, sliding you off the counter, onto your feet. “Shall we?” You offered your hand to him which he accepted like a true gentleman. “We shall.”

You were right, but then again, when were you ever wrong? Fresh air was exactly what you needed, the feeling of the wind in your hair, the twigs snapping beneath your weight, the solidness of the ground. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this alive. That was probably stupid but it was liberating to be out of your house, and on top of it it was nighttime too. You weren’t often able to be out this late because you usually didn’t have someone to go out with. You had almost forgotten how beautiful it was when there was no glass separating you from the moon and the stars. Despite the fact that his legs were far longer than yours James still had to speed walk to keep up with you. His heart swelled seeing you so happy and carefree as you strode unapologetically down the sidewalk. “Stop walking so fast.” He complained, finally matching your stride as he loosely looped his left arm around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible while still keeping the two of you moving forward. “Not my fault you’re a slowpoke.” You retaliated but nevertheless still resting your head on his broad shoulder. “It’s nice out isn’t it?” He pondered aloud. “It’s wonderful,” You agreed, closing your eyes and turning your face up towards the sky, trusting James to guide you safely down the sidewalk, “I’m sorry you had to ditch your mom and Siri to come be with me.” You apologized as another wave of guilt from earlier hit you. “I didn’t bubba, we’d already finished the movie when I called you.” “Really?” Your head perked up. “Mhm.” James hummed. “Why didn’t you tell me that?’ “Wanted to surprise you.” He explained and your heart soared, he really was indescribably sweet. “Well I was surprised.” “Good.” “What movie did you watch?” Wondering if your suspicions had been correct. “Forrest Gump.” He responded by popping his “p”. You laughed squeezing two of James’ fingers on the hand splayed across your stomach. “What?” “Nothin’, just thought you and Pads would’ve made your mom watch Reservoir Dogs or something.” “Come on, you know me and Padfoot (Y/N), nothin’ but a couple of softies the two of us.” “Yes, yes you are.” You responded completely seriously. “You were supposed to disagree, he whispered into your ear. “I cannot tell a lie.” “Hey!” He exclaimed in mock offense. “Come on I found the two fo you cuddling when I came over Wednesday, he was literally spooning you Jamsie. It was rather cute really.” James let you have the last word and the two of you were silent for a minute as you passed a house with a line of cars in front of it, stupid fucking people and their stupid fucking parties. You thought, thinking they’re more important than the rest of us, that it’s okay to throw a party during the middle of a pandemic. “There’s a pandemic going on people,” James muttered as you crossed in front of the driveway, as though he was reading your thoughts. You just nestled into him more. Once you cleared the super spreader house it was only a few feet before you turned the corner and your desired destination came into view causing a ginormous smile to practically crack your face in half. “Come on Jamie!” You giggled, grabbing his hand and pulling him down the street towards the park, not even looking both ways as you bolted across the street to the park. You’d always thought that parks and playgrounds and such looked a bit creepy after dark and while today was no exception you still didn’t think twice before bounding up the steps of the play structure. Laughing, you turned your face back up towards the sky as you reached down to slip your shoes and socks off, tossing them off the play structure onto the wood chips scattered across the ground. “You look beautiful up there.” You hadn’t noticed James approach you, but he was now standing at the foot of the play structure, looking up at you. “Come up here with me Jamie, please?” You pleaded, tugging on his arm. “How could I deny you anything?” “Simple,” You responded, “You can’t.” Pushing himself up onto the structure he tried to envelop you in his arms but you squirmed away, giggling. As you ran toward the slide at the opposite end of the playground he broke out into a run after you, purposefully keeping his strides short to give you the upper hand. Breaking out into a sprint as soon as your feet touched the ground you raced towards the open field, James hot on your heels. He chased you around the perimeter of the grassy clearing, the two of you yelling at each other and laughing until your lungs hurt when he finally caught you in his arms, trying to get you as close to him as possible. He loved the feeling of your body against his more than he loved life itself. Or even Sirius. “What should I do with you now that I’ve captured you?” He mused tauntingly, tightening his grip on you. “Well I know one thing you could do to me.” You murmured. “(Y/N) (M/N) (L/N), get your mind out of the gutter Miss,” “Make me.” You teased, wiggling in his grasp. “I know what’ll fix your attitude.” James declared, adjusting his so his arms were around your waist instead of one there and one wrapped around your shoulders. “And what’s that?” “A nice February swim!” He roared jovially, hefting you over his shoulder as he bounded towards the fountain located on the east side of the park. “Jamie!” You shrieked as you bounced against him, “Slow down.” “Sorry Princess,” He huffed once you reached the fountain, he carefully lifted you off his shoulder and sat you down on the ledge of the water feature as he kneeled before you, hands pressing against your thighs. “Come on baby, go swimming with me?” “Course.” You smiled as you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, throwing it somewhere over Jamie’s shoulder. You didn’t bother watching where it landed, too enraptured with the gorgeous boy on his knees in front of you. “You look gorgeous (Y/N).” He murmured, taking it the sight of your bare stomach and chest clad in a lacy lavender bra. “I let you see mine, now get your shirt off Potter!” You commanded impatiently, you loved James all the time, but you especially loved James shirtless. “Okay, okay woman, calm down, I'm moving.” He playfully chastised shrugging off his jacket which you just now realised was his varsity jacket, his last name emblazoned across the back of it. When he caught you staring at him he teasingly played with the hem of his shirt, rolling it in the tips of his fingers until you lightly kicked his bent knee. He then discarded his pants, throwing them and his shirt somewhere to his right, carefully laying his jacket on a bench a few feet away he was left only in his boxers and you took this time to appreciate how his skin shown in the moonlight, his darker complexion brilliant in the darkness of the park. “You wanna keep your shorts on? He lilted, moving towards where you sat on the bench encircling the fountain. You nodded in response, not wanting to be so vulnerable in such a public space. “Okay baby sounds good.” James leaned in towards you pressing his lips to yours before he scooped you into his arms before stepping into the fountain, even though it was warm ish outside the water of the fountain hadn’t had enough time to truly heat up because the water that lapped at his midcalf almost had him feeling bad for what he did next. Which was dropping you into the freezing cold water, keeping you upright by his hold on your shoulders before you were able to ground yourself on the floor of the fountain. With water sprouting up from the top and cascading down 4 smaller tiers reminiscent of bird baths, getting larger and larger in radius as they went down, cold water nipped at your skin. “Agh!” You shrieked, “It’s freezing!” “Calm down drama queen!” James snorted, “Little cold water never hurt anybody.” “Speak for yourself!” Screaming as James bent down to splash you with water you tried to run away resulting in you falling backwards onto your bum. “You okay baby?” James asked nervously bending down next to you, surveying your near naked body for any cuts or bruises. Your response came as you looped your arms around his neck and pulled him down, submerging the entirety of his body in the chilly water. He quickly pulled you down with him so that your head was submerged, your hair billowing out around you in the water. When you pulled back up to the surface your wet hair was plastered to your face. And though you were cold, wet, and maybe a little banged up your heart was aflame, this had been exactly what you needed, to run around like a little kid and lose yourself, if only for a little while. Glancing back down your jaw dropped, the light coming from the fountain walls made the shadows of the water reflect on James’ dark skin making him look even more beautiful, like something out of a book. He took your temporary lapse as an opportunity to flip you around so that he was on top of you, he thought you were always stunning but something about you beneath him made you shine like nothing else he’d ever seen. Taking good care to make sure your head didn’t bump against the fountain, and that your head was above water, he trailed kisses from your temple to your jaw. When he reached your chin the second freight train of the night hit him head on and he stuck out his tongue licking from the point of your chin, up your lips, the bridge of your nose, and up your forehead until he reached your hair line where he left one more gentle kiss. “James Potter!” You shrieked, a giggling mess, “What the hell?” He lifted himself off you so he could once again scoop you into his arms, “Come on my little water nymph, let’s get you dry, don’t need you getting sick on me.” “Think you should’ve thought about that before you dunked me into the fountain in nothing but my bra and shorts.” You retaliated to which he only rolled his eyes, before shaking his head like a wet dog. “I swear to God Potter, you’re a Golden Retriever.” “Hmh?” He asked, stepping out of the fountain. “Playful, loyal, energetic, smart.” You explained, planting a kiss on his nose. “Shaking off to dry like a fucking dog.” “You love me.” He grinned, like the thought was just now hitting him, like you hadn’t said it already multiple times that night. “That I do Potter.” You agreed as he set you down on the bench where he had laid his jacket, taking care to slip your arms into it one at a time he pulled it close to your body to keep you warm before coming up behind you, tipping your head back so he could wring the excess water out of it, taking this as an opportunity to kiss the hollow of your throat to which you hummed. Upon slipping on his previously discarded pants and shirt, an endeavor you watched very closely, not wanting to miss a second of how his muscles shifted underneath his smooth, taut skin, he sat down next to you. “It’s a beautiful night.” “That it is.” You agreed. The two of you sat there for a moment before James carefully stood up, “Where are you going Jamie? Too tired now, m’done playing.” “I know angel, come on, not gonna play, just get more comfortable.” He soothed, taking you by the hand and walking you over to a set of fairly new monkey bars. Picking you up from the bottom of your thighs he pushed you up and above his shoulders to sit on top of the monkey bars and you were reminded why it sometimes came in handy to be dating the captain of the football team. Swinging up next to you on the monkey bars he slid his arm around your shoulders, both of your legs meeting the edge of the cold metal at the bend of your knees, your bodies there down hanging off leaving the both of you on your backs staring up at the unusually starry night sky. “There’s Orion.” You lifted your arm to point out the constellation, “ Surprised we can see so many.” You marvelled. “It is rather pretty.” “‘Rather pretty’?” You gasped exasperated with the boy next to you, “It’s not just ‘rather pretty’, it's gorgeous!” You corrected with a huff, turning your visage back up towards the heavens. “Eh,” He shrugged, “I’ve seen better.” “I swear to God, James Fleamont Potter if you say ‘You’re prettier than any constellation’ I’m going to push you off these monkey bars.” A chuckle pushed its way past his lips as he brushed his lips along the part of your hair, “You know me too well don’t you (L/N).” “Yeah, I’ve got your number Mister.” James pulled out his phone to check the time, “Hey baby, it’s midnight.” He whispered in your ear, turning his phone screen so you could read the time. “Happy Saturday my darling boy.” “Happy Saturday Princess, let’s get you home.”

Note: I know in my initial ask on @/randomoutsiders you guys went home and more fluff ensued. Maybe a part two?

tagging: @randomoutsiders​ 

[viouez]

First Snow | 1

synopsis. introductions are never fun, especially when between the eight of them, one of them is ignorant about the things behind the curtain.

pairing. bts x reader genre. angst au. hybrid!au contents. its only about 6651 words note. i again, like most of these, wrote this a bit ago, rewrote it, fixed small parts, you know? jjk main character type ego

entire masterlist.

all rights reserved © viouez | the reposting, modifying, and/or translating of any kind on any medium is allowed. the reposting, modifying, and translating of my work without explicit permission from me is technically a criminal act under the law but will not be dealt with legal action because i would enjoy my ideas to be distributed.

A slight sigh fell from the female's lips, head tilting to the side as she listened to her coworkers job explanation. She had already been given the rundown by the boss when she was given the job. Though, she wasn’t going to stop him from talking about his passion, a second listen never hurt anybody. 

She smiled widely when she caught her friend turning the corner, clipboard in hand to show her to the work area. He raised a hand in a wave and sent the other worker off, saying something about the boss needing him down in the labs. She wouldn’t question it. He turned towards her once again and gave a warm smile. 

“So, the boss has given you room twenty-nine, I think you’ll want a room explanation before you meet any of the hybrids occupying such a room.” Chanyeol admitted awkwardly, pointing back towards the rooms.

“That’s the newcomers room, Chan, I don’t think I’m educated enough to deal with them yet. I haven’t even finished my schooling.” she almost gasped out, hands gripping onto the boys arm

He only gave her a sympathetic smile, patting the top of head. It was very uncommon for the boss to put someone just hired into the newcomers room. They were some of the most hostile or violent hybrids that were into the facility. He just hoped the boss knew what he was doing by sending her in. 

“Thankfully, your job with the newcomers is simple. You’ll be the one who does checks up. Meaning, you’ll be the one giving medications, ordering their food and delivering from the cafeteria, at least three times a day, since you’ll be working until about six.” He paused, reading over the paperwork one more time

“I’m just the caregiver, then?” hopeful, she stood on her tippy toes to try and read the papers as well.

“If they need absolutely anything, you’ll be the only person they can go to. Its also your job to decide if adopters would be a good fit for them. You get to give the final decision.” finishing his reading, he motioned towards the door, “Let’s get you to the hybrids, shall we?”

She nodded, excited to start her first day, before taking the clipboard from the man. Her eyes raked over the words and tried her best to take in the information as quickly as possible to seem professional. She had this, she just had to start her first day with confidence and authority. This would be easy for her. 

Pushing through the door, she stepped into room twenty-nine. This is where she started her first day. She needed to make a good first impression. 

Without realizing, she stood froze in the door way as her eyes danced around the room. Seven males sat in a circle in the middle of the plain white room. Most of their heads were hanging down and their hands were placed, folded in their laps. This looked more like an AA meeting than a comfortable meeting space for them. 

She parted her lips to question the hybrids on what was happening before a male pushed through a side door holding a tray of medications. Having not noticed the female, the worker stopped in front of a hybrid who curled in on himself. The almost threatening glare of the worker scared the girl as he forced the hybrids lips apart, dumping the array of medications into his mouth. 

“Hey.. hey, what are you doing?” her voice came out, a stuttering mess, goodbye to that good first impression, “Stop that, what do you think you’re doing? Don’t grab them like that.”

This gained the workers attention, hand ripping itself away from the hybrid at the new appearance, “I’m just giving them their medications, what do you think I’m doing? Are you an adopter or something?” 

“I’m the new worker for this station. You can go, I’ll finish up here, thank you.” 

The worker only rolled his eyes and moved to place their medications back onto the tray before leaving through the door they came in from. She was truly shocked at how harshly the worker was treating the hybrids. That was completely unneeded. She was sure the hybrids would take their meds without violence. 

She sighed in relief that the worker was gone before once again sinking into her thoughts. She had just done that little show in front of seven hybrids, the ones she was supposed to be caring for. Her stuttering and lack of confidence probably did not give the best look. 

Trying her best to build up just a tad bit more confidence, she stepped into the circle of hybrids and hurried to the medications tray. She could do this, she knew she could, but now she was anxious that she gave a bad first impression. 

“You got this, don’t even worry about it. So what you got scared? Anyone would be after seeing that.. Right?” she whispered to herself as she glanced over the paperwork one more time, “Don’t chicken out now.”

From what she could tell, the medications they were being given weren’t really hybrid medications. Seemed more like meds you would be giving your actual cat or dog, not a hybrid. What hybrid needs flea medications? Could hybrids even get fleas? 

A lot of the ones she was seeing did differ depending on the hybrid taking them. A wolf hybrid within the group would be taking medications to calm down the alpha effects within their body, seeing as they are being shoved into a group of unknown hybrids. A few were being given anti-anxiety medications. One was being given heat suppressors, which was confusing, wouldn’t they all be receiving them if in a center?

Finally turning towards the hybrids, she swallowed harshly and tried to put a hybrid on the faces. She could tell who the wolf was in the pack, the intimidating aura gave that away very quickly. Some of them were harder to tell from the others, granted, she could just look at the list, but she wouldn’t be able to have them introduce themselves. First impressions. 

Stepping towards the one who she saw being manhandled, she glanced over the hybrids features, sighing when the red marks from the worker came into view.  She bent down a bit to give them the look over, finger trailing over the red marks the workers hand had made. She grimaced at the light whine the figure made at her touching, hand pulling back without a second thought.

“Would you like a drink? I’m sure you’re not feeling too well with what had happened. Taking pills with no drink sounds quite painful.” Y/N smiled lightly, waiting for a reply, hoping that the hybrid wouldn’t be too scared of her. 

Once the hybrid nodded, she returned the gesture and quickly walked over to the door the worker stepped into. When she glanced into the room, she furrowed her eyebrows. With a slight groan, she stepped back into the room and pursed her lips. She did have drinks for herself. 

It wouldn’t be too bad if she skipped out on them today. She’ll make sure to order some for them tomorrow morning. She wonders if they’d be able to give her suggestions for what kind of drinks they would like. Hopefully after this introduction, they’d trust her a little bit more. 

“Seeing as I don’t plan on asking the person from before, I’ll be right back, I need to grab everyone something to drink, okay? Don’t go too far.” She tried to joke around before she exited the room. 

It only took about ten minutes before the female was stepping back into the room, with Chanyeol. All the hybrids bodies stiffened at the sight of the man. She was smiling at him before showing him where to sit down the items she had brought. 

“Thank you so much, Chan, I promise I’ll ask about getting drinks from the cafeteria next time but the worker that was here seemed a bit too hostile towards everyone.” She mumbled, though the hybrids could hear everything she was saying. 

“I’ll have to talk to them about that. I can’t believe they would handle the hybrids like that. Disgusting behavior. But, next time you need anything, write it down and send it over in a text until we can get you a work phone, okay?” Chanyeol added on as they walked back towards the door. 

She nodded quickly and moved to push him out of the room, “Go, go! You’ll be late.”

Happy with everything, she walked back into the hybrid circle. Thankfully, Chanyeol was there to help her with the drinks. She had gone grocery shopping and decided that because it was chilly out, her drinks would be alright in the boot of her car. She was correct and glad she left them. 

She quickly grabbed one of the milks and stepped back towards the skittish hybrid from before. The second she held the drink out, the hybrid hesitantly took the drink. 

“I apologize for taking so long, I had to go out to my car and then Chanyeol stopped me. I hope your throat feels much better. Oh! I also grabbed some cream from my car for your face.” she muttered out, hands shoving into her pocket. 

Pulling out the cream, she put a small dot on her finger before glancing up at the hybrid. Once again, hesitant, the hybrid gave a slight nod and turned his head to the side. Gently, the girl applied the cream to the marks left on his face. 

“I read on your paperwork that you’re a Samoyed? I mean, your ears kind of give it away too.” She smiled as she pulled her hand back, “I used to have a close friend who was a Samoyed, she always had such bright white ears. It didn’t help that she kept dyeing her hair black and left her ears out.”

This caught the hybrids attention, “You’ve met a Samoyed before? I’ve never seen another one-”

“My older brother used to have a close friend who was Samoyed. She was always so active, I could never keep up with her. Always had such amazing stamina, my little chubby legs could never.”

She could only smile at the memories, she missed the hybrid. Her brother wasn’t too happy when it came to the topic, but he would talk about it if needed. She was taken away by a center because she wasn’t actually adopted. She was a stray he had found and decided to keep. When they found out, they took her away. 

“Her name was Mina. She was a lovely person!” happy to be speaking about her, she watched the hybrid sip on his milk, “What’s your name?”

“Oh.. I’m Jimin. They didn’t tell you beforehand?” The hybrid asked, quietly, almost unsure of himself. 

“It’s on the paperwork, but I would like to meet you guys how anyone would normally meet someone new, you know? I don’t care what they write on paper.” 

The hybrid nodded at her words, going back to his drink. She took this as a sign to move along and meet the other hybrids, not sure how long it had been since she started talking to Jimin. He was a very quiet dog hybrid, she wondered if the other canines were the same. 

She turned to grab another milk, glancing over the paperwork to know which pills were for the next hybrid. She knew he was a wolf hybrid, but they did not have the pills ordered correctly. If she knew they were this disorganized, she would’ve grabbed their medication herself. 

“It’s the one with the large red pill.” a voice pulled her from her concentration.

 Trusting the hybrid, she grabbed the cap of pills and stepped towards the wolf hybrid. She was not the best when it came to meeting new people, she had a good reason to speak with Jimin normally. He needed cream for his marks, but, the wolf hybrid was intimidating. 

“Thank you for helping me. The worker seems to really not like his job. He’s made it very confusing for everyone but himself.” she spoke softly, knowing wolf hybrids spoke more confidently when the others were more submissive sounding. 

Granted, it may have been a stereotype that she learned from schooling. She wasn’t too sure but she wasn’t going to test that logic either. Wolves seemed to be the most difficult hybrids to deal with when it came to tempers and aggression. 

The wolf showed no aggression towards her, she felt like she was safe. 

“The names Namjoon,” the wolf started, taking the items from her, “Yeah, he’s not the best worker here, you saw how he treated Jimin.” 

“I’m still really sorry about that. I was in shock or I would’ve spoken up sooner. I did not think that the workers were so.. harsh.” she rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.

“Don’t worry about it, a lot of us are used to it. Jimin just seems to be his main target most of the time. None of us understand why. Maybe because he’s the smallest, but eh, not much we can do about it.” 

“I promise to try my best and not let that happen again. I’m your new caregiver anyways, he should stay gone. Or I’ll speak to Chanyeol again. He’s my friend, so, he should do something, right?”

She was speaking more to herself at this point, the wolf could tell. Though, he was confused about how she assumed Chanyeol was any better than the worker from before. He’s beaten the hybrids in the room. He’s done a lot worse and yet, she had no idea. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Namjoon. I’m happy to be your new caregiver. I promise to do my best.” she spoke out a minute later, smiling at the wolf. 

The hybrids in the room weren’t in a pack together, but he still appreciated her assuming they were. That means he would be making most of the decisions for the group. He had been here the longest and he knew the most, so this would help the group as a whole. 

Watching her step away to grab the next set of medications, the wolf glanced around the room. He caught eyes with Seokjin, only giving a slight nod his way. The hybrid dropped his shoulders in relief. The eldest was the most worried about the group, sensing that she was a very new employee. Ignorance is bliss.

She hesitated when she had to step towards the next hybrid, him already giving her a nasty look. Swallowing her nerves, she gave a small smile and held the milk out for him. 

“I.. I’m assuming you’re Suga? I think you’re the only feline in the room..” she whispered, the confidence draining from her body. 

The hybrid took the milk and meds, downing them within seconds. He shrugged his shoulders at her words. He wasn’t too sure why she was so terrified of him. He knew he had a resting bitch face, but he couldn’t do anything to her while she was here. 

“It’s Yoongi.” he spoke, licking over his lips, “Do you have anymore milk?”

She quickly nodded, moving to the box to grab another bottle for the cat. Once he got the bottle, he smiled at her to try and ease her nerves. The room was suffocating in them, he could barely breathe. She wasn’t entirely confused about the cat, but, she knew this was going to be quite the relationship between client and worker until they were separated into their own sections for hybrids.

“Yoongi? It’s pretty, means shine, a lovely name” She commented as she stepped over to the next hybrid. 

Taking a break from the hybrids, she slowly walked back towards the medicine tray. She had already met three hybrids who all had very different personalities. Jimin was shy and quiet, not too sure what to say whenever he said anything. It’s almost like he triple checked in his mind before he spoke to her.

Namjoon knew what he was saying and was confident in himself, she was surprised that he was even sent to a center, honestly. Wolf hybrids weren’t entirely rare to see in the hybrid world, but seeing them in a center was a rare sight. They would rather send them in the wild than in a center full of hybrids. Sometimes its too much for them to concentrate or create bonds. 

Though very much intimidated by the feline, Yoongi seemed to be a interesting one. Why did they give him a nickname like Suga? Was he returned from an adopter? He didn’t seem to keen on talking with her. Though, that could be a trauma response as well. Most hybrids go through trauma within just ten years of life. 

“Are you alright?” a voice questioned beside her, scaring her

She pushed away from the new voice, hand slamming over her heart in quick movement. She didn’t mean to freak out over one of the hybrids speaking to her, she was just lost in thought. 

“I am so sorry, I did not mean to freak out like that. I was just in thought. I have a bad memory, so remembering names is a bit hard.” she quickly moved to apologize, bowing slightly towards the hybrid. 

“You were just staring at the table, I assumed you needed a bit of help.” Namjoon sheepishly acknowledged, “It’s okay if you don’t!”

“No, no, please, they’re not labeled and I don’t want to mix any medications up. I appreciate the help, I do. Again, I’m really sorry for getting scared, I should’ve been paying attention.”

Shaking his head, the wolf smiled and quickly went to put the medicines in order for the last four hybrids. He quietly named off the hybrids breeds in order for her not to mix them up. She mentally begged that he did not believe she couldn’t do her job. She was just nervous and trying to remember names. 

“Thank you again, Namjoon, I get overwhelmed when things aren’t in order, I wish I had gotten the meds myself.” she admitted, muttering out a little curse towards the other worker. 

Once again shaking his head, he moved back towards his seat. She appreciated the help, seeing as she almost gave the wrong hybrid the heat suppressant. She was glad she wouldn’t be messing up their medications. God knows how upset Chanyeol would be with her. 

“Hi, uh, I want to assume you’re the fox hybrid?” quietly, she walked over to the male with the more pointed ears.

“Ah, yes, that’s me. My name is Seokjin, by the way, it’s lovely to meet you.” He was happy to take the items from her grasp, thankful for his meds. 

“Its lovely to meet you as well, Seokjin, I hope we have a nice time working together.” 

She couldn’t help the smile from appearing on her face, heart calming down. She was so worried to meet these hybrids and yet they’ve all been kind to her. Hell, Yoongi could’ve reacted a lot worse than he did, but he did introduce himself willingly. 

“I.. I like your hair color.” she whispered, nervous now that she complimented without thinking. 

“Thank you. I had just gotten it done before I was pushed into here. I think it’s a lovely orange shade.” Seokjin laughed at the compliment, thankful at a change in atmosphere. 

“Ah, compliment me next, please? Pretty please?” another voice cut in between the two of them. 

Y/N glanced over and caught the second dog hybrid pouting at the two of them. Nodding at his request, she quickly grabbed his things and came back over to speak with the excited pup.  She was happy that one or two of them were happy to talk with her.

“I’m Taehyung, but you can call me Tae, I don’t mind, I feel like we’ll get close anyways!” He spoke, voice deep but louder than most of the other hybrids she met already. 

“If you want me to call you Tae, I don’t mind at all. It’s a beautiful nickname.” She nodded at his words, opening his milk for him as his tail slapped against another hybrids chair. 

She wanted to question why he sat sideways, but she as not going to do that just yet. He seemed extremely comfortable with her already, she wouldn’t wanna ruin that. 

Grabbing the drink from her, making sure to be calm enough to not drop it, he quickly brought it to his mouth, gulping down the liquid. Without thinking, she tapped his wrist gently, whining at how quickly he drank. 

“Be careful, Tae, you’ll end up with a stomach ache if you keep drinking so fast.” she rushed out, almost thankful when he pulls the drink away from his mouth. 

Whining back at the worker, the pup listened and pulled the bottle from his lips, licking the milk that was strapped above his lip. She held the pill bottle towards him, tilting her head to see if he would be another willing hybrid, only to have the pill bottle pushed back towards her. 

“You don’t want to take your pills? Why not? They’re supposed to make you feel really good and make sure your body is healthy.” She frowned, holding the pills up again.

“You take the pills for me then if that’s what they’re supposed to do. Pills are no no’s, you can’t take them, they’ll hurt you.” He sarcastically commented after her

“Hm, okay, how about we make a deal then? If you can take all your pills, i’ll give you another drink, how does that sound?”

He took a minute to think about the deal. It was obvious she was trying to bribe him into taking the meds, but this is the most fun he’s had in a while with any worker here. Pursing his lips just slightly, he looked over the girls face and hummed. 

Seeing how hopeful she looked, he sighed in defeat and nodded at her words. Taking the cup of pills, he dumped them in his mouth and quickly drank the rest of his milk. Clapping her hands happily, she quickly moved back to grab him another milk, opting to grab a strawberry milk as a treat. 

Taking the drink, he was happy to take little sips this time, wanting to savor the drink. 

“So, I have a quick question to ask you, Tae, you know.. do dogs like to sniff hands like cats do? I know the full animal sniff the rears of their playmates but what do hybrids do?” She questioned with genuine confusion, looking away from the pup

“I do not.. and hybrids sniff as well, we just don’t sniff their asses like the full animals do. Also, Yoongi doesn’t do the whole sniffing thing either, he’s too mean, plus he has a sensitive nose, it always shows when Jimin and I are around him, but he never has an issue with Namjoon!” the pup almost vented to the worker.

She didn’t mind letting the canine to vent to her, she kind of found it cute. He did not mind talking to a stranger about the problems within the hybrid group. Though, she wasn’t surprised that he and Yoongi didn’t get along. Steretypically cats and dogs have never gotten along too well. Especially when they’re much older.

“I wouldn’t think he did, he didn’t seem so pleased with my presence, but it's something I knew was going to happen. And its nice to meet you, Taehyung, it’s a nice name, something unique.” She nodded at his words, stepping back towards the middle so she could move on, but still wanted to talk to the pup

“My owner gave it to me! she’s a really nice person, you know? She always gave me meat, so much meat, but then she stopped coming home, I think that maybe she was just visiting her family and they brought me here to watch after me.” He spoke loud enough so she could hear while she stepped away. 

Turning her back to the hybrid, she frowned lightly. This could only mean two things and both ways, she didn’t like the idea of him finding out one day. The owner either passed away while away from the house or she had given up ownership to the center. Both ways are heartbreaking. 

It wasn’t uncommon for hybrids to be taken from their owners either, it just seemed to more reasonable for someone to give up their ownership than the hybrid just be taken away. By law, it had to be a huge reason for your hybrid to be taken from you. Most places, the law passes over abuse, most mean trafficking or invalid adoptions. It was hard to learn in school, but one day it will change, everyone was sure of it. 

Without speaking another word about the issue, she found herself standing in front of another hybrid, softening when their features formed into worry, probably realizing what the boy next to him had meant by what he said. He looked up at her and frowned, mentally asking if she understood.

“Will they ever tell him what happened? He hasn’t stopped talking about her since he got here and its been weeks. He thinks he’s going back with her when she gets back..” The hybrid started, a low whine falling from their throat. 

“I don’t know when the center thinks would be the best time to tell him. I just know that when he is told, he’ll need some comforting. I know hybrids can read feelings and emotions a lot better than humans can, so, do you think you’d be able to help out?” she questioned softly, not sure how else to approach the situation.

“I could do my best. I’m just not too sure how much the poor thing could take. He’s like.. In love with the girl or something. It’s always Jieun this.. Jieun that. He never stops talking about her. Even Yoongi tried to say something and he just refused to take it as truth. He almost fought with the dude.. Taehyung did. Its weird.”

Not sure what else to say to the poor hybrid, she gently handed over the milk and pills. Maybe she’ll talk to Chanyeol about the situation and see what he thinks about it all. Hopefully when she gets close enough to the hybrid, she’ll be able to talk to him about it.

Taehyung seemed to be an extremely hopeful hybrid. It’s not something rare to see, but in a center it is. He seemed to be around her age as well in human years, meaning that he was old enough to forget all about child-like hopes and dreams. She’s curious about who his last owner happened to be. 

Unlike Taehyung though, Seokjin seemed to be a very calm hybrid. He didn’t seem to mind talking to her like they were old friends. He was nice to speak with, very well educated and talked as if he had been with a high-class family. She wonders why they would give up such a delightful hybrid. 

Feeling the atmosphere change, the hybrid in front of her pat her arm and got her attention, only giving a small smile, holding the cup back up towards her. They both knew the pup would be told sometime while here and they both knew that it wouldn’t be a pretty picture the minute he actually realized he had been abandoned.

“We’ll try and let him know slowly, so it doesn’t hurt him too much as he realizes. It’ll be a lot for him, but I think he’ll come out fine with a bunch of friends around him, you know?” she smiles, glancing over the canine one last time. 

“I hope so, he’s a lovely kid, just has a childlike way of thinking. He’s hopeful,” the hybrid shrugged, turning back towards the girl with a nod, “I’m Hoseok, by the way, It’s nice to meet you finally, I’ve been waiting so long.” 

She blushed, realizing she had been taking her time with meeting most of the hybrids, having talked to the five before him for over two hours. She hadn’t even realized how long it had taken her to introduce herself to them all. This is probably why she was a good fit for the job. She can have time pass really easily. 

“You’re a red panda, right? A rare sight to see.” She admitted, trying to change topics.

“I am! I’m quite rare on this side of the world, yes, I’m not originally from here.” Hoseok nods,

“They really don’t teach us about red pandas in school, you know? We learn the very basics about pandas. I don’t think I learned anything about red pandas.” 

Laughing at her comment, the hybrid shook his head. Of course it was rare to see red pandas talked about in schooling, they’re mostly only learned about when it came to natural habitat. Most of the time, they were taught in places like India and China, where you could actually find them. Not here. 

“I guess we’ll both be teaching each other something. If you don’t mind.. I would like to learn about hybrid things as well! We can be each others teachers.”  Hoseok smiled, hopeful.

“I would love that, actually. I would love to learn about red pandas. You are someone I take care of, I’d like to know more about you and your hybrid side. I’m sure there’s so much to learn as well. I’m excited.” She bounced on the balls of her feet.

Making plans with the hybrids was nice, she felt like she was getting along with mostly everybody. Standing back at the medicine table, she realized she only had one more pill cup left. 

Glancing over at the last hybrid, she swallowed. She could tell why the hybrid was sent into a center. It broke her heart, but she knew how people and hybrids were. If they didn’t fit the usual stereotype of the hybrid, they weren’t wanted or cared about.

Most bunnies had small figures, shorter in height, smaller in size, most were grey or white colored, and they had more feminine features as well. This bunny seemed to be quite the opposite. His shoulders weren’t the broadest, but he definitely looked more masculine than feminine besides maybe his facial features. He was built larger than most as well, seemed about a few inches from six foot, larger thighs and biceps, he looked more like a man than a boy. 

If she were seeing them from far away, ears hidden, she would assume the Samoyed and bunny were the opposite species. The pup had a figure closer to a stereotypical bunny while the bunny had the stereotypical body of a dog, she thought the stereotype breaking of both species was adorable. She loved the idea that you would be surprised seeing their species.

“The most rare breed of rabbit..” she spoke quietly as she red over the paperwork, glancing back over to the boy. 

How in the world did one of the most rare breeds of rabbit end up in a center? 

“Blanc De Hotot.. You are the most rare rabbit to exist. How are you here?” her voice came out weak, now that she was standing closer to the hybrid. 

No, she did not realize how harsh the comment came out or how wrong it could sound to any of the hybrids in the room. She was completely shocked that someone willingly got rid of him. He was the most rare. 

“When you aren’t sought after in sex work, they don’t want you anymore.” the hybrid spit, rolling his eyes are her comment, though, he was confused on how he was a rare breed.

“I’m sorry to hear that, I’m glad you refused such terrible work, I would rather be on the streets than to be forced to sleep with people I didn’t know. It’s a harsh business to work in, especially for hybrids.” her voice was barely audible by the human ear. 

He tensed at her words but kept his eyes down as he grabbed the items from her hands, allowing himself to take the medications. It wasn’t the fact that he hated the sex work, it gave him a place to stay while also relieving himself of anger or frustration. But once he couldn’t take the work, he was shoved into the streets, a bunny who had only known labs and then sex work from a young age.

“At least while you’re here, you can take care of yourself and then get an owner who will take you in with care and not with ideas of slaving you around.” She smiled happily, completely confusing the poor bunny.

He was going to be sold off to someone else? He had no idea they they took in animals just to sell them off when they felt like it. He left for a reason. He wanted to live on his own and become his own person. He didn’t want to just be sold off to someone else. He’d rather staying this room with the people he had gotten used to being around, people who would become his friends or family, people he trusted to leave him in his own room without bothering him. 

Anger built inside the bunny, fingers squeezing the milk bottle until the liquid exploded on both him and the worker, resulting in a small squeal falling from her lips as the cold liquid soaked into her clothing. He pushed up from his seat before slamming the bottle against the females chest, hearing the side doors shove open.

“Jungkook.. Please don’t.” her small voice came out, hands wiping at the wet feeling on her chest. 

“They plan on reselling us? They plan on taking us in and then shipping us off to some new owner?” He snapped towards the male, ears twitching at the anger radiating from him

“No, no that’s not what i meant, that’s not what i meant at all.” The female tried to calm the hybrid down as well, letting the milk drop to the floor.

His hands raised before she was shoved to the side, hands gripping onto the medicine tray as the bunny stormed his way towards a side door. She whipped around and faced the fox hybrid, eyes widened before she realized exactly why the bunny stopped being forced into sexual work, he had a temper, a bad temper. 

  The same worker from before found his way next to the girl, smirk filling his lips as he watched her realized she had to actually be strong around the hybrids. She only rolled her eyes, wiping her clothes with her free hand, smiling sadly at the fox, hoping his body would relax from what happened.

“You can leave. I’ll clean up here and try speaking with the hybrid.” The girl muttered, grabbing the milk bottle from the floor.

“There’s not way you’ll make it a week. Chanyeol was an idiot for thinking you were a good fit with this group. They’re a group of unwanted hybrids with bad tempers. You’ll figure it out. Ones already shown his true colors. Just wait.” the man spoke, smirk only widening as the girl stared at him.

‘I do not care who you are or who you think you are to be speaking to me like that. These are my hybrids now. I want you out of this room or I will be calling Chanyeol. Do you think he’ll take sides with his friend or some rude worker who attacked a hybrid and threw milk on his friend before trying to scare her off?” 

  She knew what she said was manipulative or against her own morals but she refused to let some man sit here and tell her she wasn’t strong enough for this job. She would not back down. This is the job she wanted and the job she fought years of school for. 

“Get out of my room.” her voice cracked as she spoke, but the fear now crawling up her legs was something she or the hybrids couldn’t ignore. 

The male instantly went for the door after her threats, leaving the girl to bend over to try and calm her anxiety down. How the hell she had the balls to say that, she will never know. It scared her thinking on it. 

“I’ll check on Jungkook and when I get back, I would like to know what you guys would like to eat or drink from now on. I’ll be ordering food from the cafeteria now and I would like for it to be something you guys will actually like.” she spoke, now quiet, scared she would sound too harsh.

Without giving any of them time to answer her or say anything, she made her way towards the door that Jungkook stormed off into. She took a deep breath, thinking about what to say when she’s in front of him. She hopes it’ll work out. 

“I’ll go in and try to speak with him, if you hear any commotion, please do come in after me, you have every right to manhandle me if anything is happening as well, I get I'm not strong looking, but I do kick shins really well.” she spoke to the other hybrids.

Knocking gently, she pushed her way into the room when she hear a grunt in reply. When she closed the door, she gently backed up so her body was pressed into the cold metal. This is her time to try and make amends with the hybrid. If he forgave her or not was not up to her, this would take time. 

  Now that she looks around, it looks like a casual college kids room. posters rested against the walls here and there, a laptop even sat on a nightstand. How he was able to have one, she wouldn’t question. Weirdly enough, the room almost reminded her of her older brothers college dorm when he was still in college.

“Why are you in here?” the bunny snapped from his bed, hands bunched up in his lap.

“Jungkook, I want to apologize for what I said,” she bent her head down, trying to seem less intimidating, “I don’t think you’ll be sold off if you don’t want it. I make all final decisions, If you don’t want adopted, I can refuse any offers made until you know what you want. I can’t promise you that the others wont want to leave though, that’s up to them.” 

The boy stayed quiet, watching the female as she waited for his reply. He wouldn’t be so forgiving, he couldn’t. He’s seen how horrible humans were. How horrible they would treat others and then how quick they would be to manipulate them into liking them after all of it. He couldn’t trust humans. He could trust Namjoon. Only Namjoon was trustworthy. 

“I do not want to be sold off into another family. It’s bad enough being treated like another slave here, I don’t want to be owned by anyone. If you ever sell me off, I don’t know what I’ll do, but It will not be pretty.” The rabbit snapped out, standing from his bed to try and look big.

He didn’t need to try and look anything when the female was shaking like a leaf in front of him. How little was she told when she decided to take the job offer? How little does she know about this place?

“When things come out of the dark, I don’t want you to change your mind about this. If you’re here to be a caregiver, you stay. You are not allowed to leave, you hear me? Chanyeol can make you think what you want.. but when you see the truth.. you cant leave.” 

hi <3

[hyunjilicious]

it’s what he deserves [bucky barnes]

A/n: This is the reworked version of an older fic of mine, altered to fit Bucky!! I liked it and didn’t want it to get lost in the void!

Summary: absolutely no plot, just blow job goodness. (SMUT) 1.6k

Warnings: None, I think. Just be 18+ :)

Leaving a trail of greedy, sloppy kisses down his ever hardening abdomen, the enticing touch of your hungry lips made Bucky struggle to keep his calm. You could see his whitening knuckles against the edge of your desk and you figured his fingernails would’ve burnt holes through his palms if he didn’t have anything solid to crush into his hands.

Reaching the gray waistband of his underwear that poked above his black jeans, you switched your direction, teasing your way to his sides.

“Baby-” he cooed, feeling your teeth lewdly sink into his burning skin. Another satisfied, yet tormented grunt escaped his lips when your hands pressed against the insides of his knees. He fucking knew what was coming for him and only the thought of it made him start questioning his ability to keep his shit together.

“I’m gonna be so good to you” you murmured with fervor, every word rolling off your lips slowly, as you looked up at him with big, doe eyes. Your chin brushed against his restrained member as your fingernails dug into the flesh of his jean covered inner thighs on their way up. The way his body unconsciously responded to absolutely every stimulus, even the way his wounded stare begged for you; it was all beyond mouth watering.

“(Y/n)-” Bucky cried, bringing a shaky hand to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear. You knew he didn’t want to show it, but you’ve been pushing his buttons the whole afternoon, creating a build up that could only end in the best way, and not only for him.

“I got you, baby” you smirked, connecting your lips to his abdomen again. His skin was already forming ridiculously small beads of sweat that were slipping down from every pore of his body. Palming him with your right hand, with the other one you unbuttoned his jeans and undid his zipper.

Another choked back wail escaped his dry throat in anticipation, this being the only sound audible in the room besides his jerky breathing. You dragged his pants down his tense, muscular legs, allowing them to pool at his ankles. With your fingers clenched around the elastic of his underwear you pulled back, and dragged your hands down, letting his boxers fall abandoned on the floor.

With his member finally finally free, Bucky threw his head back, hands flexing as his numb legs simply refused to continue to carry his body's weight.

“Suck my cock, baby, come on” he whined as his head fell forward.

Agony was palpable in the air, and at this point all you wanted to do was give him everything he deserved. No matter how much you loved teasing him, there was something about his attitude tonight, the way he simply sat back obeying and accepting everything you threw at him and the way he let you have your way being putty in your hands, made you want to simply treat him like the king you saw him as.

Lifting him up slowly, you licked your lips, eyes shooting up to meet his’. He looked down at you in complete awe, as a slight frown settled above his signature squint, waiting. Shuffling on your knees in order to find your position, Bucky’s warm hand connected to your cheek, as his thumb pressed on your lower lip, pulling it down. You grabbed his hand, kissed his damp palm and then guided it to lay back beside his body.

Half a second later, your eager lips connected to his cock, wrapping perfectly around his tip. After flicking your tongue sinfully slowly against his slit, you brought it flat against the underside of his cock, preparing to take him in.

Bucky’s piercing grumbles colored the air, as his abdominal muscles clenched with every breath he took, sculpting his frame under the soft street lights that managed to make their way into your dark bedroom.

He placed his hand on the top of your head, his fingers digging through your hair and reaching your scalp, subtly controlling your movements. With you on your knees in front of him, this kind of physical touch helped make everything feel more real, feeling your head bop under his hand in order to give him pleasure, always drove him insane.

After taking him as deep as you could, your lips left his cock, your hand taking its place. Tugging in a circular motion and proceeding to further dampen his member with the precum that was already dripping, you made your way lower. As your tongue swiped over his balls before your lips engulfed them in their warmth, Bucky’s hand left your head, flying up into his own locks.

“Love-” he moaned, ruthlessly tugging at his roots. He always pulled your hair like that, but seeing how his control at this moment was basically non-existent, this was the kind of pain he would inflict on himself in order to keep his head on his shoulders, “Darling, fuck- taking me so well, -”

Your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, his words burning deep inside your chest.

“Don’t I always?” you smiled, pulling away and looking into his eyes, your hand still pumping his cock.

“Fuck, (Y/n)” he grunted, as his hips bucked against you the second your lips reconnected to his soft spot. Before you managed to go any further, Bucky’s hand grabbed the back of your head, fingers curling in your hair, “Take me in that pretty mouth of yours,” he pleaded, “Deep, baby, all the way”

As if he’d ever have to tell you twice. You resumed your actions as you placed your hands on his thighs. Your nails toyed with the soft hairs on his legs, as he started helping you slide your mouth along his dick. His tip soon hit the back of your throat, making him cry out in pleasure. Bucky maintained his grip until your fingers, voluntarily ignoring the way your hands slapped his thighs. Your air supply was running low, but he knew just how much you were able to take. As fresh, innocent tears rolled down your cheeks, Bucky kept you in place just a tab bit longer. Eventually he let you go, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he did so.

You came back for air, panting desperately without stopping for even just one second from pumping his cock. Gathering air into your lungs, and with your eyes trained up at him, you got ready to repeat the process.

“Fuck, ok god-” he growled, “I’m so close”

“A bit more” you said, taking him into your mouth again, sucking him from between hollowed cheeks. His hand rested lifelessly this time on the top of your head again, allowing you to finish him off on your own. It was just as satisfying for him as it was for you, the pleasure your touch inflicted on him, obvious in every movement or word that left his mouth. This bliss of his propagated off of his body and into yours, causing your throat to vibrate with a deep moan.

“Love, I’m done, I can’t-” he mumbled, and seeing you weren’t resounding to his words, his fingers interlaced themselves with the roots at the back of your head, pulling you away and forcing your head back.

You gave in and obeyed, your lips leaving his cock as you looked up with a pout. His attention was somewhere else though, as the hand that rested in your hair tilted your head upwards, as he furiously pumped his cock with the other.

“Open” he grunted. You were already patiently waiting for him, tongue out and that playful look in your eyes he loved so much.

Seeing you lick your lips when his thumb brushed along your cheekbone, Bucky was just as good as done. His orgasm hit him in an instant, throwing him down an endless spiral of pure pleasure. Raunchy, impure wails and grunts erupted from his throat, as his chest puffed alarmingly fast. The controlled movements of his own hand drove Bucky into his high, as you waited on the receiving end, welcoming every drop of his cum.

He might have tried to say something but his incoherent mumbles weren’t meant for you to understand. As he came undone, every layer of self-control peeled off of him, curse words you didn’t think you had heard before, paired with your name and a questioning number of whimpers filled the room, not toning down until he was completely finished.

You pulled back from him, swallowed every drop he gave you, and then stood up to his level. His hooded eyes met yours slowly as he struggled to breathe properly. With his eyebrows unconsciously furrowed, his lips clenched as he obviously had trouble allowing the air to circulate from and to his lungs.

He didn’t dare say anything, so you brought your hands to his burning cheeks, taking in his appearance as you crawled closer. He looked as if he had just gotten out of a shower, his hair rebelling like never before; long, wet and sticking to his forehead.

“Fuck, babe- ugh- that was-” he weakly chuckled, as he slowly started to regain his composure.

You looked at him with a smile on your lips, before pressing your forehead against his’, “I fucking told you it would be fun give up control from time to time”

“It was fun,” he panted, “I liked it. Might try again, sometimes, maybe never” 

You both laughed, “Now why don’t you bend over? I’ve been nice long enough, and I don’t want this shit to get to your head. All fours, baby girl”

You grinned up at him, determine to fully crack this tough exterior of his, “Yes, daddy”

[animeyanderelover]

Can I request deidara with prompt 67?

One of the explosion boys coming your way.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsessiveness, delusions, kidnapping, blindfolding, being tied up,chains, Stockholm syndrome, reader losing it, self-harming, blood

Prompt 67: “Say my name again like this.”

The only sound you were able to detect was your own shaking breath, nearly echoing in the eerily silence which surrounded you. How long had you been here, tied up in this position? You had no idea and this was what scared you. It couldn't have been more than a few hours, right? It was hard to tell given that you couldn't see anything. The blindfold in front of your eyes neglected you any kind vision, leaving you absolutely vulnerable and defenseless. Anything could happen to you now and you wouldn't even notice nor get the chance to fight.

But Deidara had surely have to come back very soon, wouldn't he? He wouldn't leave you all alone in here, right? You felt pure fear rising up inside of you whilst thinking that he might not come back after all. What if he had gotten bored of you? Or had been killed? You knew that you should actually be glad if he wouldn't come back in here. It meant that you were free to go. The problem simply was that next to the fact that you were tied up in pretty solid chains, preventing you from making any sort of handsights also that you had no idea were you even were. What if you were in the middle of nowhere? Were there even enough supplies to manage to hold on long enough until you would bump into some people? What if you would be attacked on your way for help? Deidara had taken all your weapons.

You hated it, how you actually wanted him to come back. But the sad reality was that the loneliness had slowly gotten to you over time. Not only that, but all the fear as well. You hated it whenever he left you alone because it meant you would have to be tied up again, being forced to endure again hours silence and darkness. With no food, no drinking, no chance to go to the tiolet. It was torture. On longer missions he took you most of the times with him so he could keep an eye on you. And then you had to rely on him because elsewise you might get hurt. In either scenario, it had always been the case that you had to rely on him.

So where was he?! Why wasn't he here yet?! A dry sob escaped your lips. You were afraid of being left alone in here. You couldn't stand this anymore and your body agreed. Your muscles were sore and stiff from sitting in the same positions for hours straight, your throat was dry and burning with the need to finally swallow some water, your stomach was twisting in an aching way around that clearly signalled that you were hungry and your wrists hurt due to being tightly squeezed from the cold iron. But the worst? That you had been robbed one of your most important senses. You couldn't see anything which left you relying on the next best sense you had left. Your hearing. But this made it even worse because whenever you even imagined to sense a slight creaking, you felt the absolutely not belonging together emotions of hope and fear rising up inside of you. You always hoped that the creaking meant that Deidara was back, but there was also this nerve-wracking anxiety that it was maybe a shinobi who had found this house.

It was killing you slowly inside and with every passing second you felt yourself growing more and more frightened. What if he had really lost interest? Or really gotten himself killed? Who would help you then?! No one knew that you were here! You would die! Without anyone knowing what had ever happened to you! That blonde boy had to come back! You needed him.

And suddenly you jerked forward, your thoughts starting to cartwheeling inside of your head. The chains instantly pulled you backwards, the sharper edges of the iron pressing themselves in your skin until you felt the stinging of them cutting in your skin. But in that moment you couldn't care less, feeling like suddenly you were hyperaware of every noise around you. It made you only feel more unhinged, the small noises making you tense up before leading to you pulling even tighter against the iron. Without even noticing you had even started crying, wetting the fabric of the blindfold with your tears, but you didn't even care about that. You honestly didn't give a damn about anything right now, not the slow stream of blood nor how much your throat hurt when you started whining and sobbing, the way it burned due to being completely dried out. Right now you only cared about one thing.

"Deidara! DEIDARA!" He didn't leave you. No, he would never do that. He had clearly said that he loved you. He couldn't leave you alone. You would die! You didn't want to die! "DEIDARA!!!" The only thing you seemed to be able to do now was screaming his name.

The moment you suddenly heard a door being slammed open, you choked on your own spit and the air, starting to cough violently. But even for that your panicked brain couldn't seem to care right now. You had currently only one person stuck in your mind. Was he back?! "Deidara!" Your mind focused intensely on the footsteps which stormed towards your door and with one loud bang the door to the room in which you were trapped was smashed open. "(y/n)?! What's wrong?!"

You bursted out in even more tears when you heard his voice which caused your whole body to loosen up a bit, all the uncontrolled tugging and pulling suddenly stopping. He was here! He was finally here! He hadn't forgotten you. You really wanted to say something, but the only thing you were able to do now was hiccuping and sobbing in relief.

"Why are you crying?!...Why are you bleeding?! What happened?!" With one swift movement you felt the fabric covering your eyes being ripped away from your face, finally allowing you to see what was going on around you. At first a dry whimper escaped your lips, your eyes not being able to handle all the sudden light attacking them again. You had to rapidly blink a couple of times before you finally got used to it again, finally being able to recognize the long-haired male who was hastily removing the chains around your wrists, obviously panicking when he saw the opened skin, red, raw and bloody from all of your brutal pushing before.

"What did you do?! Look, you're hurt! Why would you do something like this?!" He ruffled his hair, clearly stressed out about this. You on the other hand felt like you had just been punched in the face. Had you disappointed him? What if he wouldn't like you anymore because of this and just tie you up again, but this time without coming back? "Wait here, alright. I-I'll quickly get the first aid to treat your wounds." He tried to sound calm, not wanting you to get scared even more.

But the moment he tried to turn around, you literally just jumped onto him, catching him clearly off-guard with this. He blinked a bit surprised at you clinging tightly onto his body, body trembling with heavy sobs. You didn't want him to leave, you wanted him to stay with you. Your wrists honestly didn't hurt that much, your brain not even recognizing the pain in them. At least not as much as the painful stinging inside of you, mixed with the sweet feeling of relief. These two emotions, which clashed currently together in your brain, made you honestly a bit sick and slightly dizzy. Or was this because you weren't very hydrated right now? You didn't know.

"S-stay please." Your voice was barely a whisper and sounded raspy due to the lack of water. But it was audible enough for Deidara to hear. Was he dreaming right now? He couldn't recall a time where you had ever hugged him or touched him in any sort of way before. Those last few weeks all you had ever done was screaming, crying and begging him to let you go.

But here you were now, clinging onto him like he was the oxygen you needed to breathe, burrying your face in his chest and whimpering for him to stay. He knew that he should have taken care of your raw wrists in that moment, he knew that this wasn't the right moment. But he really couldn't help the large grin which suddenly appeared on his face. He knew it! He knew that with a bit time you would start accepting the fact that you and him were just meant to be! How could he say no to your wishes when you obviously needed him so much right now?

"It's fine (y/n). I'm here. I won't go anywhere." You slightly lifted your head, being met with his absolutely adoring gaze and this lunatic grin on his face. If he would have given you that look one week ago, you were sure that you would have pushed him away and yelled at him. But now you didn't. No, you were even glad that he was giving you that look. It somehow soothed you to see just how infatuated he really was with you.

"Please never leave me again alone like this. I-I was terrified that you might not come back or get killed." Your grip tightened slightly, your shivering only increasing when thinking back to the darkness and the nerve-wracking uncertainty about whaz would happen. It made you feel like throwing up.

His smile only seemed to widen when hearing this, it looked like his face might actually hurt. H-how cute! You had been worried about him! "I'm really sorry for making you worry that much. I really didn't intend to do so. My man Sasori kept me a bit more busy than intended. The next time I'll hurry up." His tone had transformed to sickening sweet, obviously hoping that he would calm you down by holding you in his arms and cooing at you with this adoring gaze of his. And it did help you to relax a lot, but it still didn't seem enough.

You shook your head in a stubborn way, looking at him with red and puffy eyes. "No! I don't want to wait for you in here for hours without knowing what might happen to you in the moment. Can't you just take me with you?" For a short moment Deidara's expression seemed to waver with uncertainty, not really happy to even think about this. Missions were often very dangerous and it happened more than once that he had to bombard the whole landscape to get something down. He didn't want to bring your life into danger. "I'm not so sure..."

"Please. Don't leave me alone anymore in here. I hate it. It's cold and silent and dark. I am aware that you often go on dangerous missions. B-but you can protect me, can't you? I don't have to worry as long as I'm with you, right?" This managed to make a blush climb up Deidara's face when hearing your words, the trust you put into him. He almost felt his chest swelling with pride when hearing that you were that confident in him keeping you safe. And weren't you right? He had promised after all to keep you safe. "I'll think about it, alright?"

The answer didn't seem to satisfy you completely, judging from the way you were tugging hos cloak. "Deidara..." Your voice vibrated slightly against his chest, a small and pleading whine. And this small word, his name, caused the blonde to freeze for a short moment. He just kind of stared at you in awe. That was before he finally progressed the noise you had just made, whining so cutely his name which deepened his already slightly pink cheeks even more. How could someone be so unbelievably endearing?

"Say that again!" You stirred confused up a bit, looking him in his face. You felt yourself slightly flinching when you saw his expression. He looked a bit...weird. The crazed expression on his face seemed to have become only more unhinged-looking thanks to the blush on his face. When noticing your gaze on his, he suddenly leaned closer, making sure to ensure that you wouldn't flee by holding you with his grip in your place until his forehead was pressed against yours. "Say my name again like this."

[youryanderedaddy]

Lady Luck (pt. 1)

I was so hyped to write this lol. Heavily inspired by Kaiji <3

Tw: mafia mention, unrealistic potrayal of mafia, mentions of threats, implied obssessive behavior (will get more hardcore in the second part tho), mentions of gambling, kidnapping /not reader/

 You knew that you were a scum, a lowlife, a miserable loser without much hope in life - that’s exactly why you had no problem joining the deadliest underground paradise and following under the steps of the Lucciano family. They controlled everything - the casinos, the drugs, the guns, the whores, you name it - they provided it. And you had nothing - neither a past, nor a future. But everything changed when the oldest son Thomas decided to help you get out of the mud and step onto your legs - he gave you a home, a friend to return to, a shoulder to cry on when reality felt too painful and harsh, just too much to bear on your own. “Why would you do that for a stranger?” You had asked him once while tipsy, sitting by the hearth, a slight blush adorning your soft cheeks. “That’s easy.” The man had responded right away without giving it much thought. “You remind me of myself.”

 You spent long nights thinking about his words but never came to a conclusion - he was born into a powerful, wealty family, so it made no sense for him to have experienced rock bottom the way you had. And his small black eyes displayed such a variety of terryfing emotions - bloodlust, greed, sin and so much sadness. Why would a monster ever feel scared, you wondered. 

 Working for the Luccianos wasn’t especially hard or even dangerous - you ran small errands for them, took care of the younger kids, helped with insignificant deals, acted as a croupier when their staff was sick or missing or had to be taken care of, but one thing you were thankful for was how they never tried to force you into doing something you would never be able to forgive yourself for. Thomas was kind to you -  always so considerate, willing to listen, to understand how you felt even when the worlds you two lived in differed so greatly. He was supposed to be villain of the story, big and scary, demanding, taking whatever he wants without asking and never feeling an ounce of regret about it. And for a while, you were suspicous of the man’s every move - you were desperately waiting for the mobster to fuck up and show his true colours so you could let yourself hate him, despise him. And yet the sweet, sweet moment of revelation never came. You knew, of course, of the many evil deeds the criminal bestowed upon thousands of innocent people each and every day, but you never witnessed it with your own eyes and when the man was treating you like a part of his family, holding you close and giving you chance after chance to prove yourself, it was slowly getting impossible to view him as the bad guy. Perhaps you should have waited just a little longer.

 It happened during a warm, spring day. You didn’t expect it, you couldn’t. You had just finished your shift at midnight in the small shop you worked in, which belonged to Thomas’ mother, and were heading to the Lucciano mansion. It had been a particularly long and exhausting day, so you wanted nothing more than to feel the soft, silky, white sheets down your half-naked body while the quiet classical music took you to dream land and back. But upon opening the heavy wooden door, you quickly noticed something was different - there was no music, the big black TV in the middle of the hall was set to camera mode instead of the normal one, and it was awfully quiet. “They must have had to leave the country for a while.” You rationalised. “It has happened before after all.” You kept reassuring yourself while taking a tiny step towards the centre of the room where light was the strongest - it could uncover every hidden little detail.

 And then the TV was turned on. You shifted your gaze up, paranoia eating at you from inside out. Soon there was clear image on the massive screen, but what you saw left you speechless. There were hours of footage from your personal life - working, hanging out with friends, eating, bathing. What made the shivers down your spine run cold was a scene where a guy, your boyfriend, was kissing you, touching you, undressing you with his praying eyes. It was nothing unusual for a young woman to have a love life, but this broke the only rule Thomas had told you upon entering the house - you were forbidden from having close relationships with men, especially dangerous ones, and for the longest time, you had no issue living by that as long as you came back to the luxury and warmth the mobster provided for you. Until you met him - a charming, clever member of a local gang. You knew it was wrong and could cost you more than you were willing to sacrifice and yet you still gave in. It was your first time experiencing the highs and lows of love, so who could blame you when it was such a magical feeling, a mixture of adrenaline and opium. Alex made you feel like a real human being instead of someone just existing, leeching off the stronger, wealthier species.

 There was a shadow moving out from the corner, playing into your delusions. But soon enough you realised it was all a reality as none other than Thomas walked slowly towards you, clapping his hands dramatically, a sly smirk on his beautiful, scarred face. Did he...

 "Congratulations." The man started off, dark eyes set on you, slowly coming closer and closer like a big black hole, ready to swallow you whole. "You went and got yourself a little boy - toy." The criminal chuckled viciously under his breath, making you cringe at the crude nickname he used. The situation felt surreal and yet the fear and panic were already suffocating you, making you dizzy wish regret. "I wish you would have told me though... I never thought someone I hold so important would lie to me." The mobster kept rambling, waving his arms in the air theatrically, while holding a lit cigarette, but never moving it to his lips - it was just a prop, a way to create a thick smoke mist in your eyes. It was finally the hour of judgement.

 "What do you want?" You asked, faking confidence, desperate to take control of what was happening. It was a bizarre thing to see your dearest friend act in such a eerie, frightening way, almost treating you like one of his victims - nothing more than an indebted bastard or an unfortunate bystander, unlucky enough to catch a deal unfolding right behind the scenes. It hurt but you had forced this upon yourself and you had to fix it.

 "Nothing much, really." Thomas replied, finally inhaling the deadly smoke into his open mouth. He played with his collar for a while, as if you weren't standing there, scared for your life. "I just want to teach you a lesson in obedience, doll." The mafioso continued, circling you slowly, his heavy gaze never leaving your body. You felt awfully exposed even when all your clothes were present, covering every inch of your skin. With a swift snap of his fingers, the man summoned most of the gorillas that worked under him. Two of them were dragging your kicking, screaming boyfriend towards the centre of the room, but a quick punch in the guts managed to quiet him down. He looked terrified, his face bloody and injured, covered in dust and misery. But he was still alive and only that mattered to you.

 "I wanted to make this entertaining for all of us." The oldest Lucciano spoke out, his husky voice echoing trough the golden ceiling. He moved over to your lover and harshly pressed the cigarette butt against the exposed skin of his unprotected arm. The man cried out in pain, silently pleading you to help with his big, terrified eyes. And here you were, as helpess as he was - if not even more. "So I decided to initiate a little gamble of sorts, ya know?" Thomas winked at you, smiling with malice. You couldn't help, but recall all the times you two had played poker together, betting less than pocket change. You never understood why the man always got so excited despite winning such small sums, especially when his casinos already did well. But now you could see it clearly - he got off crushing his opponent, taking the victory under their noses. Money meant nothing. As long as he was able to ruin your mood, your life, the man was pleased.

 Soft white light lit up the furthest corners of the hall and you saw dozen square boxes, arranged in a circle. It looked harmless enough on its own, still they were stamped with Thomas’ symbol - a dove. You used to wonder why someone in the most dangerous depts of mafia would choose such an innocent, sweet signature pf representation and now the answer was right in front of you - that way it was easier to trick the enemy into thinking they were safe. And how wrong were they. 

 “As you can see, there are nine wooden boxes in total. They look exactly the same and on top of each one there is a hole.” Thomas stopped to point at them, the raw anticipation flooding his otherwise dull pupils. “Six of the boxes are empty. In the other three though, there are placed some of the most poisonous snakes in the world. One bite and you are dead.” The madman gave a loud, breathy laugh while your boyfriend squirmed uncomfortably in place, restrained by the strong arms, holding him down. “Both of you will take four turns putting your hand in the boxes. After every round the box would be closed off and you would be able to choose only from the remaining ones. ” The mobster grinned widely, looking at your horrified expression. You couldn’t believe that the man was willing to put your lives on the line simply because you had neglected one of his orders. “Now you may be wondering where the suspence is - after all you would probaby manage to hear the hissing from afar and avoid the place it comes from. Rest assured, my foolish little friends. Right now the snakes are heavily intoxicated and absolutely silent - which doesn’t mean, of course, that they won’t attack any soft flesh they see. If you die, that’s on you, but if you survive, you will be rewarded.” Thomas clapped his hands together and his man let go of your lover, resulting in his falling to the ground with a heavy bang. Thomas pursed his lips together.

 “Shall we get started?”

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Did You Know?

Prompt: the merlin fic you wrote with a crying arthur who didn't realize he had a hand in normalizing merlin to physical pain/punishment is HEARTBREAKING and i couldn't help but think while reading it that merlin may have just assumed that the knights and arthur //knew// visting knights were handsy w him and just didnt care, like he just thought it was normal and they would expect nothing less. anyway if u wanna write something that has that kind of idea/vibe i'd be delighted to read it! love u <3

Ahh yes more h/c here we go

Read on Ao3 Part 2

Warnings: visiting nobles and knights are dicks. implied/referenced rape/non-con and abuse NOTHING EXPLICIT

Pairings: merthur, can be platonic or romantic I don’t care

Word Count: 3031

 Merlin is…confused.

 He’s doing his job as a servant—not that he’s begrudging his position that much, destiny is destiny, after all—and putting up with all the things that servants are supposed to put up with.

The learning curve was very steep, don’t get him wrong. Coming from Ealdor, where the only authority figure he absolutely had to listen to was his mum, and straight into Camelot’s complex authority structure with rules and consequences and all the messy trappings of those horrid make-believes he and Will used to do when they were little boys. Hell, he ended his first full day in Camelot arrested, relying only on Gaius’s social powers in court to get him released. He’s not exactly a beacon of well-mannerisms.

 So if it took him a while to get used to the type of work Arthur was going to have him do, that’s fine! He’s never had to put armor on anyone before, let alone the Crown Prince, who expected him to do all that and then some. He’s never known how to clean shiny pieces of metal that just serve to attract more attention than they’re worth, they never had shiny pieces of metal other than coin. And he’s certainly never known how to dodge swords being swung at his head. Never.

 It wasn’t expected—no, it wasn’t, you prat—for him to be able to shrug on all these new responsibilities, even if he had been trained as a servant, because he’s never done them before. Thank the gods for Gwen, honestly, who was more than happy to make sure he at least knew how to hold a sword without cutting himself.

 “Here’s the next one,” she’d called, handing him the next training sword from the batch, “now, try again.”

 “This is the rag, this is the polish, and we just—ow!”

 “Try not to polish the edge of the blade, Merlin.”

 “I knew that,” he had muttered sheepishly, rubbing the cloth over the flat of the blade this time, “but thank you.”

 Gwen had rolled her eyes fondly. “Just keep trying, you’re doing great.”

 So he had just…done his best to learn what to do. Which would’ve been easier had he also not been learning how to act.

 ‘Yes, sire.’

 ‘No, sire.’

 ‘As you wish, sire.’

 ‘Sire’ this and ‘sire’ that and bloody hell, why is he not allowed to say anyone’s bloody name?

 Formalities have never really been Merlin’s strong suit, not that he’s ever really needed them. And now that he has to use them, he’s starting to regret not paying attention to his mum’s scoldings. Just a little bit. Not that much. It’s not entirely his fault, is it, that those lectures were so boring and there were things he could’ve been doing.

 But here…

 Here, if he doesn’t address someone the right way, he gets cuffed around the head. The first time it happened, his hand flew to his head in shock. It wasn’t a particularly hard slap—he’s had worse walking into the door by himself—but the fact that someone was allowed to hit him, was expected to hit him, and it was his own fault was…jarring.

 He learns his lesson about trying to hit back much quicker.

 He still slips up from time to time, even now, after so many years, but his reflexes have gotten a lot better. Goblets, combs, hunks of bread, boots, staffs, just about every object he can think of, he’s had thrown at his head. With Arthur, it’s fine, he can snipe back perfectly well on his own, and it’s not like he’s going anywhere. He just bites back enough to make it a little more bearable. And besides, Arthur hasn’t ever seriously hurt him, maybe because he’s always lauding about how strong he is and how weak Merlin. Doesn’t want to break him.

 And he can get away with it with some of the knights. The close ones, sure. Leon—well, he doesn’t try that much shite with Leon. Leon’s terrifying, not just because he’s one of the oldest knights and the longest-serving of Arthur’s inner circle, but because he knows things. Leon’s perception scares the hell out of Merlin, not in the least because he’s got so much to hide.

 Does he ever think Leon would seriously hurt him? No, but he might tell people who would.

 Percival is a big man. His arms are about the size of Merlin’s skull. He doesn’t want to get near that man’s bad side, even if he hasn’t found it yet.

 Elyan is sneaky. He’s got just enough say to be dangerous, not enough to be an obvious suspect. And he’s got Gwen on his side—or more specifically, Gwen’s got him on her side. Gwen would never hurt him, he knows, he trusts her too much.

 Lancelot is the only one he’s not afraid of, him and Gwaine. Mainly because he knows that they know.

 …look, you do what Merlin’s been doing for as long as he’s been doing it, you slip up. It happens.

 But Lancelot never looked at him differently. Never raised a hand to him to hurt him, always touched him gently, spoke softly, sparred with him in good faith. Even when he swings a spear at him in jest, it’s never too fast to actually bruise him if it connects.

 Gwaine slaps him on the shoulder, claps him on the back, hard enough to bruise sometimes, but he cares. He hides it well—well, sort of—and looks out for Merlin when Lancelot can’t. But he knows Gwaine has a breaking point, and he’s not super keen on looking for it.

 He can get away with it. A little. Not a lot.

 But only with them.

 With the other knights…

 One of the hardest things he had to learn was that no one cared.

 When a knight smacks him over the head with the flat of a dulled blade, it doesn’t matter that the sight of a blade swinging at his freezes terror in his throat, nor that the ring of the blade won’t go away for three hours. The others will just laugh and tell him to move his arse.

 When a knight knocks the equipment out of his hands and snarls at him to get moving, it doesn’t matter that it’s often accompanied by a boot to his ribs. He’ll always get elbowed in the exact same place later and they won’t care about his wince.

 When a knight decides that he’s had enough of Merlin just looking at him, he—

 The other thing that Merlin’s had to learn very, very quickly, is that it’s better him than the other servants.

 He has Gaius. Gaius will patch him up, no questions asked. And when he can’t go to Gaius, it’s not like he’ll be caught lurking suspiciously in his own quarters. And when he can’t do that, he has his magic.

 None of the others do.

 So he learns. He picks up the things he needs to know, puts his head down, and bears it.

 That’s what servants are supposed to do.

 So you can imagine that when the others look absolutely horrified as he explains to them that he knows how this works, he’s learned, he’s confused.

 “Come on, guys, it’s not like the other servants don’t know this.”

 “It’s funny,” Gwaine growls, his fist tightening on the table, “how you think that makes this any better.”

 Merlin rolls his eyes. “I’m not a gossip, Gwaine—“

 “That,” Elyan says, “is not true.”

 “—okay fine, I enjoy a bit of the servant’s gossip as well as anyone, but not about this!” He shakes his head. “It’s fine, they know about it, it’s not like anyone cares.”

 “See, Merlin,” Lancelot says quietly, “that’s where you’re wrong.”

 Merlin frowns. What are they talking about? Who’s noticed? Is he doing it wrong? What does he need to fix?

 See, his confusion only grows when he voices those concerns and the knights only seem to grow more upset.

 “I can’t believe this,” Gwaine mutters, turning away, “how long has this been happening, Merlin?”

 “Which part?”

 Gwaine is doing a remarkable impersonation of someone who is extremely constipated. “…all of it.”

 “I mean, it began as soon as I set foot in Camelot, if you want to go from the very beginning.”

 Leon swallows. “And if we asked for you to be…more specific?”

 Merlin huffs, throwing his arms up. “Why are you so concerned about this? It’s nothing to worry about!”

 “You’re being abused, Merlin,” Arthur—since when has Arthur been this quiet?—says finally, looking at Merlin the same way he looked at Morgana when Uther strangled her against the back of the throne—see? It’s just something that happens here— “that’s definitely something to worry about.”

 Merlin scoffs. “I’m not being abused, I’m just being treated like a servant.”

 “If that’s what you think being treated like a servant means,” Gwaine says, standing, “then this conversation is going to take a lot longer than we thought.”

 In response, Percival moves to stand in front of the door. Merlin sighs.

 “You don’t have to block the exit, Percival, I know I’m not allowed to leave.”

 A choked-off sound comes from Merlin’s left, followed by a muffled curse. Percival shakes his head.

 “I’m over here to make sure no one else comes in to hurt you,” the knight says calmly, “not to make sure you don’t leave.”

 “But if you want to,” Elyan says quickly, “you can.”

 “No, no, I know a trap when I see one, no thank you.”

 “It’s not a trap, Merlin,” Lancelot says, even as he looks to be about two seconds from crying for some reason, “if you truly wish to leave, you can. We won’t stop you.”

 Merlin raises an eyebrow. “…sure.”

 Arthur lowers his head. Merlin frowns, watching his shoulders tense.

 “Are you alright?”

 He gets his answer in the form of many unshed tears welling up in Arthur’s eyes as he raises his head.

 “No, Merlin,” he says in a remarkably steady voice, “I’m not. But don’t worry about me.”

 “That’s my job,” Merlin insists, striding forward, “let me help.”

 Arthur catches him gently—gently?—gently by the elbows as he reaches for him, smiling sadly.

 “Can I give you another way to help me?”

 Merlin swallows heavily. “…what does it entail, exactly?”

 “For starters, explaining why that question has you shaking in your boots.”

 “I’m not—“ Merlin looks down to see Arthur’s hands are just about the only thing holding him up— “oh.”

 “Sit,” Leon encourages, bringing a chair over and crouching in front of it. Around him, the knights lower themselves to the ground, with the exception of Percival, still by the door.

 “Merlin,” Leon calls again, “can I ask you some questions? If you don’t want to answer any of them, that’s alright, but may I ask?”

 Merlin blinks. “Sure?”

 He gets a nod of thanks. “What do you understand your duties as a servant to be?”

 “To help with the running of the castle and take care of Arthur’s needs.”

 “Which are?”

 “What—“

 “Please,” Arthur says softly, “please, Merlin, I know it sounds silly, but…please?”

 Well, he’s never been very good at saying no to upset Arthur. He sighs.

 “Keeping his chambers clean, keeping track of his laundry, dressing him in the mornings, polishing his armor, bringing him food, escorting him to court affairs, and any other odd jobs he asks me to do.”

 Leon nods. “And what about the knights? Do you have duties with us, too?”

 “I’m supposed to help you train and see to your immediate needs with those, too.”

 “Such as?”

 “Equipment, water, food, chambers—“

 “Chambers?” Lancelot frowns. “Why would you need to see to our chambers?”

 “Not yours, but the visiting knights.” Merlin frowns as Arthur’s hand twitches on his elbow. “What?”

 “Do they presume that you are their servant,” Leon asks in a low voice, “when you do so?”

 “I am, aren’t I?” He looks to Arthur. “You assign me to them.”

 “No, Merlin,” Arthur corrects gently, still looking like he’s about two seconds from crying and still taking Merlin by surprise at how soft he’s being, “I ask you to get them settled, that’s all.”

 Merlin blinks. “Oh. Uh…”

 “What do they ask you to do,” Leon asks, “as their servant?”

 He furrows his brow, trying to remember. “Uh, change their sheets, see to their armor, start a fire, bring them dinner…”

 Leon raises an eyebrow when he trails off. “Anything else?”

 “They, um—“

 Hands. Hands on his skin. Voices in his ear.

 “Merlin.” Arthur gives him a shake. “Merlin.”

 “Sorry,” he says instantly, “I just…”

 He trails off again when he sees the absolutely heartbroken look on Arthur’s face.

 “…Arthur?”

 “Why,” Arthur whispers, “why do you let them…do that?”

 Merlin frowns. “It’s fine.”

 “It’s most certainly not fine.”

 “It is,” Merlin argues, “it’s what servants are supposed to do, anyway, and it’s better me than the others.”

 Gwaine muffles a curse again, and to his surprise, so does Lancelot.

 “Merlin,” Leon says, calling his attention with how hoarse he sounds, “Merlin, why is it better you than the others if there’s nothing wrong with what’s happening to you?”

 Oh.

 Oh.

 Oh, no.

 Merlin’s hands start to shake.

 Something in his throat wells up and pushes against his jaw. It hurts. The bruises on his back start to smart.

 “Why do you care,” he says instead, “why now?”

 “We didn’t know,” Leon whispers, sounding every bit the man confessing his worst sin, “and we are so, so sorry that we didn’t.”

 “And if you’re asking why we care,” Lancelot says, equally heartfelt, “then we are more sorry than you could ever know.”

 Merlin frowns. “But you lot do it too.”

 The room freezes.

 Arthur yanks his hands away from Merlin like he’s been burned. Leon stifles a noise of his own as Elyan’s mouth drops open.

 “What,” Gwaine manages after a few moments, “the fuck does that mean?”

 “You—you hit me, you order me around, you—“ Merlin swings his head back and forth, looking at their shell-shocked faces— “why are you all looking at me like that?”

 “Because you’ve just told us we’ve been abusing you since the moment you set foot in Camelot, Merlin,” Arthur whispers, tears finally starting to roll down his cheeks.

 “But you knew!” Merlin’s hands fly to his hair as he cries out. “You knew this was happening, you could see it happening and you didn’t care!”

 “I’m sorry, Merlin—“

 “If we knew it was like this—“

 “If you think we’d ever hurt you like that—“

 “No, gods no, Merlin—“

 “Of course we care—“

 “Merlin,” Arthur whispers, holding out a shaking hand, “Merlin, please, please believe us that we would never be okay with you being mistreated like that. Like this.”

 And godsdamnit all, the amount of sheer heartbreak in the room is enough to coax a lump into Merlin’s throat and spring tears down his cheeks. Arthur lets out a wounded noise as he sees them, reaching forward to gently, still gently, wipe them away. The naked concern on not just his face, but the others’ faces as well, only encourages more.

 “I’m so sorry, Merlin,” he keeps saying, “I’m so, so, sorry.”

 “Arthur, I—“ He’s cut off by a gasping sob— “Arthur—“

 “Shh, shh, shh,” Arthur hushes frantically, cupping Merlin’s face in both hands, “shh, shh, Merlin, it’s alright, no one’s ever going to hurt you again, I swear it—“

 “You’re damn right,” he hears Gwaine mutter as the other knights agree.

 “—and I’m so sorry that you thought I’d be okay with it, that I was helping—“ Arthur’s voice cracks— “no, no, you’re—you’re my Merlin—I never want to see you hurt like that—I never mean to hurt you—“

 “I know,” Merlin murmurs, “I—I know you don’t.”

 Arthur, gentle Arthur, pulls him into the softest hug he’s ever had, cradling him like he’s something precious, something fragile, something to be savored and oh, oh, gods—

 “Easy,” he hears Leon soothe, “easy does it now, come sit—come sit with us.”

 He can’t quite manage to pry himself out of Arthur’s grip as he feels the knights come closer, huddling around the two of them in a protective circle. He even hears Percival’s heavy steps coming closer, a silent guardian, keeping watch.

 “I don’t—“ he gasps— “I don’t understand.”

 “We’ll help you,” Arthur promises in his ear, “we’ll help you figure it out.”

 “But if anyone ever,” Gwaine growls, “and I mean ever does anything like that to you again, you tell us.”

 Merlin nods frantically. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you.”

 “Thank you, Merlin,” Leon murmurs, “may I…?”

 Merlin nods and Leon’s hand cards tenderly through his hair.

 “Oh, Merlin,” he mumbles, almost to himself, “you came into our lives blustering about how servants were people too…and we never noticed this?”

 The knight shudders and steels himself.

 “We will do better.” He gives Merlin’s head one last pat. “We all will.”

 “I can—“ Merlin swallows— “I can…ask for help?”

 “Yes, Merlin,” Arthur promises instantly, “you can ask me for help, and if you think I’m letting another one of those knights near you ever again—“

 Oh. Oh, wow.

 The wave of protective fury that hits Merlin’s chest is—

 Wow.

 He’s still confused. Confused and more than a little scared.

 But as he curls up in Arthur’s arms, held and kept with Camelot’s strongest knights curled around him too, protecting him, shielding him, he thinks he may finally start to feel safe.

[actress4him]

The Barn 4 - The Pole

(Prompt #1 for Summer of Whump)

Yes, I’m coming in at the last minute with one more Summer of Whump prompt, and yes, it’s prompt #1. Also, if you read more than one of my series I’m sorry that this one is kinda like that one chapter of In Irons...? But I actually thought of this one first, and yes, it was inspired by Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron.

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Warnings: captivity, restraints, dehumanization, references to beating, mild blood, starvation, dehydration, nausea, emeto, fainting, heat exhaustion/stroke, probably medically inaccurate

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Stetson dropped Jacob’s foot, and another puff of red dust went up into the air, joining the cloud that his body had created as it was dragged. It would have been the perfect time for him to leap up and try to run again, but he couldn’t move. His everything ached.

A second later a leather-clad hand gripped his arm and yanked him upright. Jacob’s head swam with the swift change in elevation and his nose throbbed. While he was busy trying to get the world to stop spinning around him, Stetson roughly pulled his arms behind his back and started winding rope around his wrists.

Fantastic. He hadn’t even gotten to enjoy them being free.

Once they were thoroughly wrapped and the rope pulled tight, Stetson stood, taking the tail end with him and jerking Jacob’s arms backwards in the process. He cried out in surprise, and tried to get up. His legs only cooperated enough to scoot him back a few inches, but it was enough to let his arms rest against his back again.

Whatever Stetson was doing, he finished up and came back around to squat in front of his captive, arms propped across his knees and brown eyes studying him just as emotionlessly as ever.

“Maybe a few days of this’ll teach you some manners.”

“Doubt it,” Jacob immediately shot back without thinking. “My mom’s been trying to teach me manners for twenty-six years. I wouldn’t count on a few days making much of a difference.”

Stetson huffed very lightly, something that almost could have been taken for a laugh if Jacob wasn’t positive the guy didn’t know how. “We’ll see.”

Straightening with a quiet popping of joints, he turned and strolled away.

There was no way he was just leaving Jacob alone and able to run off. Craning his neck painfully around, he finally took a look at what was behind him. A post. A wooden post, probably coming up to around his shoulders. And the rope that was tying his wrists was looped through a metal hook in the top and knotted.

Okay, no problem. Jacob was good with his hands, he had nimble fingers from spending all day typing code. Struggling to his feet, he bent over forward so that he could reach and felt his way up the rope until he reached the knot, fingers fumbling around it, trying to get a sense of where it started.

Instead, he found a padlock.

Jacob let out a frustrated scream, the first time he’d actually had a chance to vent his feelings since this whole nightmare began. It felt good enough that he did it again. Then he ran forward, as hard as he could, as if he was somehow going to break the rope or pull the post out of the ground instead of nearly ripping his shoulders out of socket when he abruptly reached the end of his lead.

Tied to a stupid pole like...like a horse, or a dog. He was a human, dang it! Who did these people think they were, treating another person like this? The last…forty-eight? seventy-two? He didn’t even know how many hours anymore...had been completely flabbergasting, just seeing the sheer number of people who thought this was perfectly okay. And now he was stuck, in the middle of nowhere, with some psychopath who thought he was gonna what, train him? To do what, he didn’t even want to know.

Night was falling by then. Jacob was beyond exhausted, and resigned himself to sinking back down to the dirt, resting his back against the pole and getting as comfortable as possible.

The next day dawned with little sleep having been found. The sharp pains of yesterday had given way to stiffness and aches that made it hard to pry himself off the ground. His face was coated with dried blood and who knows what else, making him sticky and disgusted in addition to everything else.

He’d really never liked the outdoors that much. He was much more at home inside, in front of a computer. The outside had far too many things that could get you dirty, like, you know, dirt, for instance, like the kind of dirt he was currently sitting on and covered in. Most of his friends growing up had been your typical rough-and-tumble boys who lived for mud puddles and rolling down grassy hills, but Jacob had never been able to stand the feeling of being dirty.

Sweat was a thing encountered more often outdoors, too, and was just as bad as dirt. He could feel it, collecting underneath his shirt as the sun rose higher in the wide, blue sky. There was nothing in the way of shade in this field. Just dirt, dust, and more dirt, all surrounded by a wooden fence. A corral, probably. Meant for horses, not people.

The heat only grew more intense as the day wore on. There was no sign of Stetson, no indication that he would be bringing food or water or coming to untie him. Jacob hadn’t had anything to eat since this whole thing had begun, and no water since before the auction. His tongue was beginning to stick to the roof of his mouth.

He tried pacing around the pole, circling until the rope was tightly wound one way before turning and going the other way. His brain wasn’t used to boredom. There was always something to think about, always something to do. But now the only thing to think about was how absolutely screwed he was, and that wasn’t helping anything.

He tried pulling some more, too, not running this time, but turning until he could grip the rope in his hands and tugging backwards with all his might. Which, to be honest, wasn’t a lot. He was a computer geek, okay, working out wasn’t high on his list of priorities. The moral of the story was, pulling on the rope did nothing but make his back and arms ache even more.

The heat and the lack of stimulation made the day drag on and on forever. Jacob’s stomach moved from groaning to aching to roiling. If there had been anything in it, he was sure it would have been expelled. His head pounded something awful, and he wasn’t sure whether it was from heat or light or lack of water or having it repeatedly bashed in the day before.

By the time the sun finally started to sink beneath the horizon, his clothes were soaked with sweat, which was not only gross but also turned cold once night fell. He never thought that he’d actually miss the sun once it was gone. But now he was shivering, and the headache hadn’t gone away, and his stomach felt like it was trying to turn itself inside out, and he was pretty sure there was dirt in his mouth, and he was completely, totally, miserable.

Day two was somehow even worse than the first. Jacob tried standing up and stretching his legs, walking around the pole again, but he was so dizzy that he collapsed right back to the ground. Groaning, he dropped his forehead against the pole, grinding particles of dust further into his skin.

His...dry...skin. He didn’t know much about health and science, like, at all, but he was pretty sure not sweating in this heat was not a good thing. He almost felt cold still, like the chill of the night was clinging to his skin.

Hours dragged by. Every time he swallowed, it felt like nails going down his throat. Moving his head in any direction made the world swim around him, the blinding rays of the sun making spots dance across his vision. His stomach kept feeling worse and worse until he finally ended up folding over, retching uselessly again and again until every muscle in his torso was on fire and his head felt like it was exploding.

His only vague thought was, am I gonna die? before he fell face-first into the dirt and passed out.

A blast of cold woke him. He tried to gasp for air, but instead inhaled a mouthful of freezing water, sending him into a coughing fit that racked his sore stomach muscles. But the water just kept coming. It was harsh enough that he couldn’t even sit up against the onslaught, not that he was sure he had the energy to, anyway. The spray scoured every inch of his bare skin, leaving it stinging from both the pressure and the cold.

But it was water. Sweet, beautiful water. As soon as he stopped coughing he tried his best to gulp it in, letting the cold coat his scratchy throat.

He wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved when the spray finally stopped. Bringing up weary, unbound hands, he wiped the drips from his eyes, blinking blearily up at Stetson, who dropped the hose and stared him down.

“You didn’t last as long as I had planned.”

“M-maybe…” His voice came out as a croak, and he attempted to clear it. “Maybe you should try some...food ‘nd water. Haven’t...had any of that in a while.”

Stetson continued to stare with crossed arms for another moment before walking over and grabbing onto his ankle again. “You just had your water. Maybe you can have food tomorrow. We’ll see how well you behave.”

Ignoring Jacob’s weak protests and attempts to fight, he dragged him away from the doorway of the barn and into a nearby stall. Iron bars reached from the half wall up to the ceiling, giving it even more of a prison cell feel. The only good news was that he didn’t bother to tie him up this time, just threw him inside and left, shutting the door with a deafening creak and an ominous click.