#but his nose is important and i already struggle with his big jaw so i had to include it somehow

[moeblob]

I unfortunately picked up Bravely Default 2 again (I bought it back when it released) and then started over since I last played it in June 2021. And. You know what. I like these silly beans. And then I saw concept art for Dag's expressions and I am not the same. Why did they decide to give him huge fangs in it.

(also I'm trying so hard to avoid spoilers less for plot but more for characters so if you know anything that happens to characters shhhhh. also the expression concept is below the read more so you can see what I mean.)

[toshisurtsdottir]

Rape and Retribution - Chapter 1

Yesterday, I asked if you'd like to read my Turpin fanfic. I decided that I'd upload it, see how it goes and if it goes well I'll keep posting it :) Technically, it's finished BUT there are a lot of scenes in between that are missing which I might add - we'll see. OH AND: It's kinda fluffy?? But also pretty dark. Idk. Find out I guess haha WARNINGS (for the entire fanfic): mentions of rape, rape, mentions of violent torture, violence, death, murder, NSFW ... and many more

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Summary: Toshi Vernier has a plan for her future. To gain her freedom, she has to get in contact with the ruthless Judge Turpin. He has other plans for her.

On the bustling streets of London, a thief could easily walk past dozens of people unnoticed by any of them. Today, Toshi had no intention of stealing, however. She had something else in mind entirely, something that was part one of her big path to freedom. The young woman was dressed up in men’s clothes: grey pants, an off-white blouse and a grey vest. Her long, white hair was hidden beneath a hat that had seen better days, but it served its purpose. From afar, one might say that she was just a small man going about his business. A bit shady looking perhaps, but that was the usual.

She was stalking around the courthouse, waiting patiently for Judge Turpin to emerge. She knew he would sooner than later. She had studied his behaviour for a few days now, finding out his schedule. Right on time, the heavy doors swung open and two men emerged. The tall judge, wearing a long coat that would make anyone else who wore it seem small. It seemed to be working the opposite on him, it just made him taller. Next to him, the Beadle. Beadle Bamford was a small man, rattish and always on the judge’s heels. Toshi eyed the Beadle angrily. He was one of the men who had, once or twice, taken her father’s offer to use Toshi’s body for their own pleasure. Toshi didn’t remember how often he had had her, she usually erased these encounters from her memory. But she knew he had taken her at least once. As she stared at him, her jaw and fists clenched, she failed to notice that the Beadle had bid the judge goodbye and was now headed the opposite direction. She almost wasted her chance as Turpin made his way down the main street, nearly getting swallowed in the crowd. Toshi snapped out of it and shook her head, snaking her way through the masses of people until she could almost reach him. She would follow him until he was in a more secluded place, then she would talk to him. She had trouble keeping up with the man. People got out of his way (he was a person of power after all) but they kept getting in Toshi’s. Finally, after a few minutes of her struggling to keep up, Turpin turned into a less frequented street. This was her chance.

“Judge Turpin! My Lord!” She called out, quickly jogging up to him. Clearly irritated, he turned around, his eyes instantly fixed on her figure. His nose scrunched up in disgust and he was about to turn and walk off when Toshi spoke a second time. “Please Sir, hear me out! I have important news you must know, my Lord!” She wasn’t one to address people by their titles, or show any kind of manners, but she needed to in this situation. She knew about Turpin that he saw everyone else beneath him and wanted them to treat him accordingly. “Spit it out, boy.” He hissed, albeit he didn’t stop walking or slowed down. Toshi was already out of breath, keeping up with him and speaking at the same time was a hard task to do. “My Lord, your life might be in danger! I came to –“ she stumbled over a small rock “- to warn you!”

Turpin then stopped dead in his tracks, causing Toshi to almost smack into him. He turned around, slowly, his eyes wandering from her face down to her chest (where they seemed to linger for a while), then down to her feet and finally flicked back up to her face. “And what, may I ask, makes you think so? The scum that inhabits these streets usually wants me dead. These are not news. You are wasting my time, child.” He hissed in a low tone, his jaw clenched. “Please, Sir. I am referring to a man known as Sweeney Todd. You see, my Lord, he is not who he seems. Or so they say.” She fumbled with the buttons on her vest nervously. She wasn’t one to get nervous in front of men. Her usual feeling towards them was rage. But he was dangerous, truly dangerous. And she was playing an even more dangerous game right now. “Todd?” He tilted his head, waiting for her to go into detail. Toshi didn’t want to let him wait.

“Yes, Sir. I’ve heard people say his true name is Benjamin Barker. Lost his wife and daughter… say he’s out to get revenge, my Lord.”

The last month, ever since getting that information, she had done a lot of research on Barker and Turpin. She knew that Turpin was responsible for Barker’s ruined life. She needed to get on the Judge’s good side (a vital bit of her freedom plan) and since she had no money to bribe him (unlike others), she hoped vital information would suffice.

Turpin’s eyes remained fixed on hers, a tired expression on his face. If this news worried him, he certainly didn’t let it show. “Benjamin Barker you say?” He raised an eyebrow, his voice a long drawl.. Toshi only nodded in response, hoping that he would like the information she had just given him. “He is supposedly back in his old home currently, in Fleet Street, working as a barber as he did before.” And after a pause: “My Lord.” Something then changed in Turpin’s expression. It seemed to be a mixture of worry, anger and something that Toshi couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Who are you?” He frowned, his eyes flicking down to her chest again.

“My name is Toshi Vernier, Sir.” Clearly, her name didn’t give him more insight on her gender, as his eyes kept flicking from her face to her chest. “I’m dressed as a man, so you’d listen to me, my Lord.” She quickly added. His expression softened as soon as he heard her say that. The fact she was female somehow changed his demeanour. “I see.” A long pause followed as he once more eyed her as if to confirm what she had just said. “I assume, given your disguise and secretive manner, that you want something in return for this information.” He sighed. Toshi wondered if he was used to this kind of exchange. She could imagine that most people would approach him to gain his favour. She wondered how many people actually got it.“I might, my Lord. If this information saves your life, I would like you to remember that I was the one to give it to you.” She nodded, taking off her hat, looking up at him hopefully.

Turpin walked closer to her, causing her to back up a little. Before she could get too far away, however, he grabbed her by the collar and roughly pulled her closer to him, his face only inches away from hers.

“If I find out that you’ve lied to me, that you’re somehow involved in this, I will make sure you’ll rot in a cell for the rest of your unworthy life.” He hissed, shook her and then pushed her away from him. She stumbled back into a nearby wall. He smirked, satisfied by his action, and turned around to leave.

Toshi’s heart was beating out of her chest as she watched him leave. This had gone exceptionally well in her mind.

[bitebitesnap]

Service Duty (Vegeta/Saiyan!Reader)

Summary: Saiyans mated or to-be mated can show affection by cleaning. This act can be done by washing one another in pools, but it's also possible by tongue-scrubbing. It's more effective logically to simply bathe together but many still commit to the act of washing a mate by mouth.

It had been well over an hour now. The soreness in your legs was starting to build into a cramp, "Are you done yet? I think I'm ready now."

"Hush woman," The growl rasped against your throat, "You're ready when I say you are." He ignored your groan, smirk nudging his canines into your skin, "You're not getting bored, are you?"

"Yes?? I've been in this position for an hour Vegeta. It cannot take this long, you damn perfectionist. We're not going to a funeral." Your tail thrashed at your hip. If you could, your eyes would have rolled out of their sockets a long time ago. "Of course, as my mate it would be disgraceful for any less. And even if we were to be present for a burial, I would have to clean your whole body for that. This is not nearly half as pleasant." His cocky grin nudged your jaw, "Now stop squirming, I'm almost done."

You cursed under your breath, the idea of his tongue in even more places sending shivers down your spine. All too soon the fantasy was ruined when his arms tightened, throwing your head back further to let the Prince scrape harder against your throat and redirecting you to the 'task'

Your legs were jammed up over the chair arm, bent unevenly due to his much shorter height not giving you enough of a seat. One shin was half on the floor and the other hiked up, pressed awkwardly into his bicep. With your back propped up by his thick arm as tense as steel it was far more uncomfortable as it dug into your shoulders.

While not horrible, the constant strain of being in said position had long caused your knees to ache. A nice crick was trying to form in your lower spine from being strained so hard. And then your neck, held back as far as possible, was starting to cramp. While his nose was buried right into your jugular. Outstanding.

Finally when his nose had dug it;s pointed end into the soft hollows just under your jaw you'd had enough, "Vegeta, for fucks sake. I'm fine. You've been cleaning the same spot for literally half an hour now. If we waste any more time we'll miss the ceremony." You shoved at his face, "Get off!"

He growled his dismay into your collarbone. He tried to ignore you, stuffing himself further into your neck but you grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking him right back out. And so, begrudgingly, he huffed, "Fine. Stubborn woman." Pulling back from your delectable throat his hands dropped to your waist with a deep scowl.

Him complaining like a cub didn't change the fact that the sun was halfway across the sky already. If you hurried you could make it to the castle before sundown-but that was a big if given mister priss could barely stand his own face unless he was draped in refined armor and the like.

Shoving off his now loosened arms you shot to your feet, darting into the closet to rummage around. Clothing you deemed unfit for important appearances was tossed out onto the floor behind you, not a care if it had a special pile or not while you dug through what you had. The good uniform was pulled out of it's box and struggled into, the pants halfway up your legs while you hopped around trying to shove on a boot.

Vegeta, meanwhile, made himself extremely useful by crossing his arms and leaning back into the comfy seat he occupied. Brow raised at his mate's frantic running about he barked, "Oi, woman."

"What? I'm busy, and if you knew what was good for you you'd be just as busy." You didn;t even look up as your tail wrapped around your waist while passing him. The fluff was dug out of the brush and tossed into the bin as you warred against your hair in the mirror.

When you passed him for the tenth time in the same half hour struggling into the undershirt his tail whipped out, wrapping around her thigh, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Popping your head through the top of the black piece you wrinkled your nose at him, "What could I possibly forget that isn't already on me. Shoo," You swung your tail at him, "Go get ready before I make you."

He only shook his head, "You'd need to suddenly have the strength of an army to make me do anything, woman." He swatted away your attempt at brushing him off, "Are you dense enough to not remember your part in this?"

You glared in contempt, "What, the part where I clean up your messes like a maid." His little grumble made you snort before looking around, brows furrowed, "What do you even mean-"

He just smirked, " You did say I had to prepare, didn't you?" The immense scowl on your face when your eyes snapped back to him made him snicker, tail unwinding to flick at his face, "Come here then." One long finger tapped on his cheek, "Come service your mate and make him presentable."

You wanted to glare at him for longer-some vain hope that he would drop the subject-but when his smirk only widened you threw your hands up, "Fine. Fuck you, first of all." The brush was tossed onto the bed as you dropped onto his lap hard. Though his elated grunt and tightened thighs said it wasn't as much of a deterrent as you wanted.

Nudging his jaw up you murmured "Can't believe you're making me do this." Before dragging your tongue up his throat.

The knot in his throat thrummed under your lips, "Don't be so stubborn. As my mate you have your duties, as do I. Keeping me clean is one of them." Tilting his head he tapped his jaw, "Be thorough as well, little one. It's important my visage is pristine."

"Yeah yeah yeah, just shut up and let me work." The salt of his sweat stuck to your tastebuds like a film yet it was overpowered by his own taste. Spice, gritty, yet smoother than porcelain. A mixture of unpleasant and bearable, like eating a half rotten corpse.

You laved your tongue across his neck as much as you could bear. You pried the tip into as many crevices as possible, digging into the hollows from beneath his jaw to all the way down at his clavicle to scrub off whatever grime he'd accumulated in the span of the hour he;d been doing the same to you. Gross as it was, it could be worse.

He could be covered in guts again. Not an experience you'd like to repeat.

His neck outstretched as you leaned in further. A purr rumbled softly in his chest, hands limply folded over your back in a loose hug. Completely at your every whim, just from the scrub of your tiny tongue along his flesh.

Your hands leaned over the arms of his seat. The weight of his mate over him, pinning his chest to the back of the chair. His brows furrowed, fingers digging into your sides. Hot breaths puffed between his teeth as his tail, once limp over his thigh, jerked to life by wrapping around your waist.

Then, just as the soft purrs rolled into deeper, hungry growls, you abruptly pulled away.

Onyx eyes snapped open. The scowl had worsened into an outright snarl, teeth bared in his irritation.

The most shit eating grin was on your face as you shrugged, "What? You're done, get up and get dressed." Tossing at him the one item he'd managed to pull out before yanking you in for an impromptu bath you jogged away to get ready yourself.

Vegeta grabbed the red cloth out of the air before it could hit him, watching his mate dance out of his reach. With a humph he unfurled the red cape and stood up, throwing it over his shoulders.

He had to covertly adjust himself within the tight spandex suit as well. A few curses towards his unruly mate sparking from his lips less out of anger than he'd like.

Once it was buckled into place-with any hope it would help cover his issue- you darted back in, tying your hair back, "I can't believe we're going to be late to your own coronation. You're such an asshole for wasting time like that."

Your mouth was moving. Words were flowing into the silence he had yet to fill with a retort, but he simply couldn't find the words yet. No, his attention was completely fixated on you.

The model was one of a forgotten era. The golden strips looped over your shoulders, gilded with the Vegeta ensignia. Soft plasticine sparsely embroidered with dark ribbons envoking the thrill of combat, where blood and viscera would spray and color the white deep. Your gloves, the finest leather stained in white and gold, reached up to your forearms, gilded knuckles glistening in the sunset.

With your tail wrapped tightly around your waist, you were the perfect image of a warrior fresh from combat. Drenched in the blood of your enemies and coming home for him to cleanse you. Letting him taste your victory for himself.

Your eyes flickered to him, brow raising, "Well? Are you just going to gawk at me, dumbass?"

The fantasy faded. The blood was merely stitched imitation, viscera just strokes of deep lavender patches among the gold.

Yet you were still just as striking even without it

But instead, he huffed, "I'm coming, woman. Don't hurt yourself trying to move me alone." He crossed his arms, smirking at you rolling your eyes.

Later, maybe, he could convince you to keep the uniform on. When he was a king and you his princess.

As you hiked up your boots, making sure the gilded buckles clasped properly this time, his smirk lifted into a predatory grin.

Indeed, all the work would be worth it in the end.

[rebelelegance]

An Angel And A Bully

Billy Hargrove x reader, Steve Harrington X platonic!reader

Summary: Billy shows up at your house one afternoon, and while comforting you confess something important.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, but mostly just comfort, confessions and fluff

You'd met Billy when he first showed up at Hawkins, and somehow you didn't hate him as much as everyone else did. You knew that no human could be that much of an asshole, without a reason, so you'd been nice to him, helped him when you knew he needed it but would never say it. One day, you'd managed to get through the layers of brick that Billy hid himself behind, to the real Billy that was an absolute sweetheart. He'd told you about his father, and needless to say, you were as angry as you were upset, about the way he was treated. Much to your bestfriend Steve's dismay, the you and Billy had gotten close, and you were the only person he was vulnerable around.

Soon enough, the both of you had caught feelings and started dating. However, now, as you sat on your bed, wearing his shirt and a pair of your shorts, doodling in your notebook when you should be studying, you realized that you loved him. But you couldn't dwell on your thoughts any longer, as you heard your doorbell ring. You quickly flipped your pages trying to find one in your notebook where you'd actually written something productive, and dashed downstairs, praying that your parents hadn't come back already.

Yet, when you opened the door, you found Steve instead.

"Steve? Holy shit, I thought you were my mom!"

"Technically I am a mom, just not yours" he said, scrunching his nose up in disgust, before a huge grin made its way onto his face.

"Oh shut up Harrington. What do you want?" You asked leaning against the door frame struggling to hide your amused smile.

"Is Billy here? Max was looking for him. Not sure why though, I'd be happy if that asshole was my brother" he snorted.

You playfully hit him the chest. "He's not an asshole Steve. And no, he's not here. Everything ok?" you asked, your voice laced with worry.

"Yeah, Max said it was no big deal. Look I have to head back for my shift, but we still on for the movie tomorrow?"

"Of course, if you show up on time" you smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah yeah, whatever" he rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips as he waved to you and headed back to his car.

As you closed the door and trudged back upstairs you couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. Was Billy ok? Did Neil do something again? As you entered your room, you froze in shock.

Billy was sitting on the edge of your bed, head in his hands.

"Billy? Steve just came by, apparently Max was looking for you," you said slowly walking closer to him. "Babe, is everything ok?" you gently moved his hands from his face, and tilted his head upwards using your thumb. He had a cut on his eyebrow and one on his cheekbone, and there was a big bruise on his jaw. His knuckles were scratched, dried blood all across them. Your hands dropped to your sides, fisting up in anger. "I'm gonna kill him. I swear I'm gonna kill him," you fumed, turning around to leave when Billy spoke up. "No" It was just one word, but there was so much pain and fear in it. "Please" he added. Your eyes welled with tears as you turned around to face him. Tears were streaming down his face now and his hands were shaking.

He seemed so terrified.

He, Billy Hargrove, who everyone thought was the toughest and most ruthless bully in Hawkins, looked like he was about to break.

You walked over to him, and gently wrapped you arms around his head, pulling him into your chest. A sob wracked through his body. "I hate him. I fucking hate him" he sobbed, his arms wrapping around your waist. You didn't know what to say, so you just ran your fingers through his hair, hoping it would comfort him. "H-he said I was worthless and a piece of s-shit, and that no one would ever l-love me" Billy stuttered. Your heart broke.

How could a father speak to his own son like that?

If Neil was in front you of right now, you would've knocked the living daylights out of him, even thought he was much taller and stronger than you. The amount of hatred you felt for Neil , was in-comparable.

You slowly kneeled in front of him cupping his face in your hands gently, weary of the bruise on his jaw, attempting to wipe away his tears.

"Baby, listen to me ok?" you said softly, as if raising your voice would hurt him even more. He nodded lightly tears still streaming down his face. "Your dad is the biggest asshole on this planet. He doesn't see how absolutely amazing you are. You are not worthless or a piece of shit Billy. If he took the time to get to know who you really are, he'd feel ashamed to death for doing what he did. Also Billy, there is one person on this planet that thinks that you are the best thing that happened to them" you said.

You lightly rubbed your thumb along his cheekbone, stopping just before the cut. You looked into his eyes, making sure he knew that you weren't lying to him. Billy looked at you, his sobs had died down to sniffles, confusion covering the pain and fear on his face. "Who?" he whispered. Your eyes widened slightly as you realized what you'd said. Knowing it was too late to back down, "Me" you whispered, matching his tone. He looked at you in shock now. "What?" He knew he loved you, but he never thought that you would love him. You were so different from him. You were an angel and he was the town bully. You nodded, "I love you Billy," you said, your voice more confident now. He looked at you in awe, cupping your face in his hands.

Then, his chapped lips landed on yours.

It was just like your first kiss, and every kiss after that. Slow, yet fast, gentle yet passionate. A hundred feelings bring conveyed as your lips moved together. You tried to assure him through that kiss, that you were there, and you'd always be there, no matter what. Finally, you both pulled away, out of breath.

"I love you too" he breathed, a smile appearing on his face, genuine and toothy.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, as you mirrored his smile.

He kissed you again, with more force, and your grip on his jaw tightened. He winced breaking apart. You were immediately flooded with guilt. "I'm so sorry baby," you said, but Billy shook his head, still smiling lightly. "It's fine Y/N," he reassured. "Maybe we should take care of that first huh?" You asked and he nodded. "And then we can pick up where we left off," he said smirking.

And that was perfectly fine by you.

[maomao-words]

Hiii loveee✨✨

Can I request a angst to comfort for sung Jin woo? Maybe his fem!so that is a s rank is getting overwhelmed idk by dungeons and is overall so mentally tired but still has so much to take care of?

Like how would he comfort her maybe by cuddling or going out or maybe make out idk I just need soft and affectionate Jin woo content

Hewo, dear! I simply live for soft! Sung Jin Woo (✿´‿`)

You asked and I shall deliver ♥

Sung Jin Woo comforting S-Rank S/O:

From the very first day that you have awakened as an S-rank assassin type hunter, you knew that you were heading towards the thorniest of all paths.

S-ranks were extremely scarce in South Korea and, as a result, they were highly desired and sought after. This simple fact of life immediately pushed you to the battlefield without having enough time to really weigh your options and consider your own wishes. Once inside dungeons, your eyes; which previously shined and sparkled within the comfort of your sheltered life, were suddenly met with blood and gore.

Your class was meant for bloodshed. Your skills were high enough to constantly place you in the front lines, hiding between the shadows, before silently slaughtering monsters with one move of your dagger.

Merge with the darkness, wait, sneak and assassinate. Then, re-do it all over again in the next raid. That has been your life style for years with no end in sight. Your mental prowess was hanging by a thread with each passing raid and every successful massacre you performed. Yet, you still stubbornly clung to life with bloodied hands.

You refused to allow the darkness of your profession to swallow you whole. You made sure to keep your connections with your family and friends alive. You allowed the words of gratitude from your fellow citizens to heal your deepest wounds and, most important of it all, you let the most amazing man of them all fill in your broken heart. Sung Jin Woo brought light into your world and you were not ashamed to shout to the world that you absolutely loved him to pieces.

But as if fate was mocking your struggles to continue surviving, the world started to fall into utter chaos; and as gates spawned in a maddening pace across the globe, your job load only increased.

You sank further and further into the devouring jaws of darkness.

Forced to join a hopeless raid of a highly difficult A-rank gate with just a few C-rank hunters, you bitterly fought to clear up a path for your team. Each swing you took, each curse you hurled and each wound you suffered to protect the others pushed you closer to the edge.

When you finally felt like that was the end for you, completely surrounded by enemies with nowhere to go, you closed your eyes in a final attempt to recall your lover's face. But when your legs gave up on you, you did not feel the pain of hitting the dungeon's rough ground nor the canines of the monsters sinking deep into your flesh. All you heard was a soft voice calling your name.

"Baby," Sung Jin Woo's sturdy arms held you close to his chest. "My baby," his husky voice sunk deeper as he gently gathered your bleeding frame before seating you in his lap. Soon, a tender kiss fell upon your forehead, then on your cheek and on the tip of your nose. You could hear noises all around the cave, indicating that Jin Woo's soldiers were already finishing up the raid. Beru's aura quickly appeared beside Jin Woo and you soon felt his healing powers envelop your wounded body, relieving you from the pain.

"I don't ever want to lose you." Jin Woo's vice was close to a whisper as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, tenderly nuzzling the soft skin there. The shy movements reminded you of a big golden retriever asking for pets from his owner and you couldn't help but to quietly giggle. The sound of your laugh brought a gentle smile to your lover's lips. He dug his head further and tightened his hold on you, causing you to giggle once again at his antics.

Sung Jin Woo finally lifted his head to look at you. His eyes, filled with raw love and tender affection towards you, gazed into yours. You felt completely vulnerable. As if Jin Woo was able to see the deepest corners of your very soul. But you didn't move. You didn't want to move.

Why? Because you simply felt safe. Safe in his strong arms and under his warm gaze.

With Jin Woo by your side, you were ready continue living despite all hardships with his love as your strength.

[inkykeiji]

i can take you there but baby you won’t make it back

character: dabi | todoroki touya

notes: stepcest (kind of—ur parents aren’t married yet) with dabi-as-touya x a very naïve and inexperienced reader, normal!AU (no quirks, dabi also has tattoos over his scarred + fully healed skin), university!reader, implied yakuza!dabi, excessive use of the words niichan and good, praise kink, fingering, face fucking, title credit = save that shit by lil peep lmao  uhhhh yeah i hc dabi as a very intelligent and perceptive individual soooo i feel like he’d be a master at reading a person & their emotions and then adapting his manipulation techniques

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), noncon/dubcon, slight somnophilia, emotional manipulation, toxic relationship, size difference, slight degradation, mentions of drug use

words: 7.1k

part 2.1 | part 2.2

synopsis:

“You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?���

“Of course,” you respond instantly. Later, when you lay awake in your bed, you’ll feel ashamed by your actions, by how readily captivated you were with him, by how easily he was able to manipulate you with those sapphire eyes and that rough voice—

But in that moment, you’ll do anything to pull that little smile from him, anything to hear him tell you you’re good. You just want to be good.

Something dark and primal flashes in those gorgeous eyes as they gaze down at you, a small grin spreading across his face. “Of course,” he repeats softly.

        ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          

Your dad’s been dating Rei for a while—nearly a year, now—when things begin to get serious, and he proposes to her.

She accepts, so it’s not exactly a surprise when she suggests you guys move in with her—she’s got more than enough space, she tells you, it’s just her and her son in that big old house—and your dad seems pretty thrilled about it. This was the next step before marriage, after all.

You like Rei well enough, she’s always been nothing but sweet to you, and anyway, your father’s relationship really isn’t any of your business or concern.

It isn’t that you don’t want to move in with her—her house is in a better part of the neighborhood, a standard detached upper-middle class home, and just a short walk from a bus stop that’ll take you directly to university, which you start in a week.

It’s just…You’re a little apprehensive.

You know she has kids. She mentions them in passing every once in a while, but you can’t for the life of you remember their names, or their ages, or how many of them there are. You know they don’t all live with her, that her relationship with her ex-husband is complicated and rocky at best.

But you’re still surprised to hear that only one of them, her eldest, lives with her. She tells you he’s five years older than you are, that he’s a clever, smart boy, going off on a tangent about how disappointed she is that he didn’t go to university, because ‘he would’ve done so well—he could’ve shone so brightly.’ Something about the way she says that, the way her voice sounds almost sad, makes anxiety turn to lead in your stomach. She talks about him as if he’s already a lost cause, but he’s only in his mid-twenties, isn’t he?

You understand the moment you see him. The man standing in front of you as you shift from foot to foot unsurely in the foyer of this unfamiliar house is about as far from what you anticipated as he could possibly be.

He’s tall, skin pale as moonlight, with jet black hair and the most stunning blue eyes you’ve ever seen. But that isn’t what captivates you. It isn’t the lip ring curled around his bottom lip snuggly, and it isn’t the tongue piercing you’re about to find out he’s hiding in his mouth, either.

Every inch of the exposed skin of his arms is covered in intricate, seamlessly flowing tattoos—or, for a moment, you thought it was tattoos, plural. Upon closer inspection, you realize that each arm is actually covered in one giant tattoo, giving a new definition to the term ‘sleeve’. It’s all black ink, not a splash of colour anywhere, depicting an extremely detailed and anatomically correct mechanical arm, complete with what would’ve been joints, ligaments and bones in the form of wires and steel.

The tattoos extend onto the tops of his hands, made to look as if surgical staples are peeling his skin back to reveal the robot beneath. This same tattoo continues up his neck, along his jaw and onto his cheeks, all the way to his bottom lip, spreading across his entire face and disappearing into his hairline and onto his ears. Finally, there’s a small portion of the tattoo underneath his eyes, the surgical staples lining the edges of the face tattoos, too.

It startles you—you’re not necessarily scared, you just…weren’t expecting that. But there’s no denying the rush of breath that involuntarily escapes your lips as your eyes search his face, raking over his body in a brazen way that should make you feel shameful, travelling back up to find him smirking smugly at you, raising an eyebrow as your eyes meet again.

The look in his eyes tells you he knows, knows what you’re thinking about, knows how undeniably attracted you are to him, and scalding heat floods your cheeks.

He chuckles a little, which does nothing but add insult to injury, and sharp anger slices through your chest at the way that you stomach absolutely drops at his gravelly voice. You can’t believe yourself, can’t believe your body is reacting and responding so readily to this man—this stranger.

He introduces himself as Touya, in that rough, deep voice that forces a jolt of electricity to run through your veins. You idly wonder what your name would sound like on his tongue, how it might sound if his voice dropped to a growl, find yourself stuck thinking about this for the rest of the night.

✰          ✰          ✰          

To your disappointment, and as much as you are unabashedly interested in him, you don’t interact much with Touya for your first few weeks in the house—in fact, you barely see him at all.

This only piques your curiosity about him more, finding that you’re unable to tear your eyes from him on the rare occasion that you are in a room together. He catches you staring every single time, and he has the audacity to chuckle to himself and shake his head when his gaze meets yours, your eyes quickly darting away and cheeks burning at his laugh.

You begin gathering little tidbits of information about him, purely sourced from interactions you witness in the house, desperately praying for something that’ll give you an opportunity to start a conversation with him.

Your efforts prove fruitless when, almost a month and a half since you moved in, you’ve still only spoken a handful of words to him. You do learn a bit about him through observing, though.

You discover that he’s a smoker, which really doesn’t come as a shock at all. Marlboro’s are his favourite, and he’s always got a pack in his back pocket or rolled up in the short sleeve of his t-shirt. He must have them imported—Marlboro’s are incredibly rare to find all the way in Japan.

Touya must have a lot of things imported.

You find out that every other Thursday, Touya discreetly stuffs an absurdly large wad of cash—all composed of ten-thousand-yen bills—into his mom’s hands, forcing her fingers to curl around it. She fights him on it, every time, but he’s firm and adamant that she take it. It always ends with Rei giving him a small, watery smile, Touya pressing a kiss against the side of her head and murmuring that he loves her.

After you witness this interaction for the first time, you begin to notice that, while the house looks relatively normal on the outside, it is stuffed full of luxury on the inside. Flat-screen TVs each complete with full entertainment systems, state of the art appliances that are somehow up to date with all of the latest trends (including a smart fridge—absolutely ridiculous), custom made furniture, ornate rugs, a housekeeper that drops by every Sunday…

You have no idea what he does for work, but you think you’ve got at least some sort of idea when you catch him one night, just past 2AM, exiting his room and using a thumb to brush excess white powder off his nose. His eyes catch yours, pupils blown and shining in the low light, and he smiles darkly at you, winking once as he walks away.

You don’t ask—no one ever does.

You don’t ask about the crimson splattered on the toe of his boot, or why he sometimes smells metallic, like copper, the strong scent wafting after him and invading the halls as he stalks leisurely toward the bathroom. You don’t ask why he leaves the house at odd hours in the night, and you definitely don’t ask about the soft clinking and clicking you hear through the thin walls every so often while he cleans his gun at 3AM.

You’re not sure if it’s really any of your business, anyway. So you stay quiet, and continue to wait.

The opportunity finally comes one Wednesday in October, two weeks before Halloween, when you’re in the kitchen after school busy fixing yourself an afternoon snack. Touya comes home uncharacteristically early—you rarely see him before 10PM, so his entrance scares you, and you jump a little.

“Sorry,” he murmurs as he passes by behind you, just an inch too close, just enough so you can feel his body heat radiating off of him.

“It’s fine,” you say quietly, shaking your head a little and trying in vain to stop your hands from trembling as you spread peanut butter across a piece of bread.

You can feel his eyes on you, and it makes you nervous, makes your skin crawl in a way you’ve never felt before. He laughs a little at your struggling, leaning against the counter next to you and crossing his arms over his chest.

“You don’t have to be so nervous around me, y’know,” he says with a smirk, eyes glittering at the way your lips part in surprise, your breath stuttering a little. “I’m your niichan after all, aren’t I?”

You hadn’t even considered using the honorific until he himself uses it.

Your hands freeze, hovering over your plate, and you look over at him slowly. “You…Want me to call you that?”

“You can, if you’d like,” he says smoothly, nonchalantly, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It makes no difference to him, he tells you, but when he finally looks back at you, you think you can see it in his eyes—a sharp, small glimmer of…of something. Something that makes your stomach twist in a way you can’t decide if you like or not.

But this is it, you think, this is your opening to finally begin talking to him.

So you do. And the smirk he gives you the first time you address him by the honorific, voice quivering slightly as you ask him where Rei normally keeps the blender, is nothing short of predatory.

“It’s on the top shelf. It’s too high for you, though,” he says, voice so sickly sweet it almost sounds mocking. “Let niichan get it for you,”

It isn’t, but you let him get it for you anyway.

And he knows—knows he’s got you the moment you gasp at the honorific leaving his lips, trying to hide it behind your hand, nodding quickly and squeaking out a thank you.

It starts after that. He begins playing with you; a sick, perverse game of cat and mouse, hunter and hunted, and you play your part perfectly.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, if you said it didn’t send wicked sparks of excitement shooting up your spine and an intense fluttering in your stomach.

And it starts slow. It starts with gentle pet names—honey, sweetheart, princess—and fingertips trailing down your arm as he passes you. It starts with a large hand placed on the small of your back, guiding you—out of the house and into his car, out of the kitchen and into the living room, out of the hallway and into his bedroom—and with little pecks on your lips stolen when no one’s watching, quick kisses that leave you feeling exhilarated despite their chastity.

Suddenly, he’s home a hell of a lot more. He’s sitting too close to you on the couch while you curl up with a textbook, his thigh pressed against you and flesh burning hot through his black jeans. He’s joining the family dinner a few times a week, idly hooking and unhooking his ankle with yours beneath the table while smirking at you from across it.

Suddenly, he’s asking you if you need a ride to school, or if you need someone to pick you up. You don’t, you tell him, the bus is just fine, but he insists. It’s what niichans do, he says. He wants to take care of you, he says.

Who are you to deny him that, really?

✰          ✰          ✰          

The first time you experience Touya angry is about a month after the inciting incident, when he catches you walking home with a few of your university friends.

He had texted you earlier that day, telling you that he—very regretfully, he said—would be unable to pick you up from school this afternoon because ‘something had come up’.

You didn’t question what it was—you knew he’d lie even if you did. So you accepted it obediently, reassured him that it was fine, that you’d find another way home.

You’re pretty sure if you had told him that you didn’t have any extra change on you for the bus suddenly whatever important thing that had ‘come up’ which so desperately needed his attention wouldn’t be so urgent anymore. But you didn’t want to be a bother, or inconvenience him, so you say nothing.

Two friends decide they’ll accompany you on your walk home, so you aren’t lonely, they claim. Normally, the walk from campus to your house is about thirty minutes, but that day it takes you nearly an hour, wasting time goofing around and walking slowly as you talk idly.

Touya’s already pissed that it’s taken you so long to arrive home, that you’ve ignored all of his extremely considerate texts asking if you’re alright, but when he sees you squished between two boys, giggling as the three of you stumble up your driveway—he’s fucking fuming.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he asks, voice calm and monotonous, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Your head snaps up—you swear he wasn’t there just a second ago—blood running cold.

His stance is relaxed, arms crossed loosely over his chest, lazily raising an eyebrow as your wide eyes meet his. Technically, the only indication that he’s furious is the blazing blue fire in his eyes, but your friends can read the tension in the air surrounding him, shuffling a little closer to you. This minuscule action does not go unnoticed by Touya, sharp jaw clenching once.

“You had niichan worried,”

You’re frozen a few feet away from the porch, unable to find your voice, to move your legs, to breathe at all.

“I didn’t know you had an older brother,”

Your eyes do not leave Touya’s as you speak, the words hoarse. “Oh, we’re—”

“Yeah,” Touya bites, irritation finally bleeding into his voice. “She does,” his eyes float back to yours. “Come here, princess,”

Your body snaps into action, moving automatically before you can even comprehend it, allowing Touya to tuck you into his side the moment you reach him.

Your hands are shaking, but you have no control over them as your fingers curl in his white t-shirt, clinging to him. To your surprise, the arm around your shoulders hugs you closer in response, thumb caressing you.

“Thanks for making sure she got home safely,” he tosses over his shoulder, managing to make the simple sentence sound like an insult, tone bordering on patronizing, while he turns on his heel, marching you both inside.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you’re rushing to say the moment the front door shuts behind you two, Touya’s arm still wrapped firmly around you.

He looks down at you coldly. “Don’t you dare pull shit like that again,” he tells you, eerily calm voice forcing spikes of icy dread up your spine. He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in as his eyes bore into yours. “You had me worried sick,” he breathes out then, squeezing you again. You’re surprised in the sudden change of tone, feeling your chest swell at the thought of him fretting over you, a small smile gracing your lips.

“I…I did?”

Touya’s eyebrows furrow, as if he’s offended at your questioning, mood morphing in the span of a second. “Of course you fucking did,” he spits like you’re stupid, arm dropping. “Do you ever check your phone?”

“Wh-What?”

Touya rolls his eyes. “Check your phone,” he calls out airily as he begins walking into the kitchen, shaking his head a little, disappointment rolling off him in waves.

Hastily fishing your phone out of your bag, you’re astonished to see eight texts from him and three missed calls. You scroll through the texts quickly, each one making you feel more nauseous than the next. ‘Is everything okay? You should’ve been home by now’; ‘Please answer me, princess, you’re making your niichan nervous’; ‘Where are you? Answer my fucking calls already’. Guilt turns sour in your mouth and you hurry after him.

“I-I really am s-so sorry,” you force the words out, unsure as to why there are suddenly tears stinging your eyes. He isn’t even doing anything—his back is facing you as he nonchalantly begins brewing a pot of coffee.

But the thought of him being upset with you, of losing his approval, sends a sharp pain searing through your chest.

“Are you?” he asks, and although his voice holds no malice in it, it causes your whole body to stutter with a harsh breath.

“Yes,” you whimper out, latching onto his arm and tugging in an attempt to draw his eyes to yours, to see how regretful you are, the remorse written across your face. “I should’ve…That was so careless and inconsiderate of me,”

“It was,” he agrees simply, voice still light, as if he’s discussing something as mundane as the weather. “But you’ll never do it again, right?”

“Right,” you agree readily, breathing out the word before you even realize what you’re agreeing to.

“Tell niichan you’ll never worry him like that again,” he finally looks over at you.

“I-I’ll never worry you like that again, niichan, I pr-promise,”

His eyes hold yours for what feels like eons, before he finally twists his arm out of your grasp, instead wrapping it around you and tugging you against his body. You stay staring up at him, eyes wide and obedient, breath bated as you wait for your next order, so pliant and ready to serve him.

“Good,” he whispers, eyes finally softening, and you feel like you can breathe properly again. His free hand cups your face, thumb running along your lips, then your chin, then your jaw. “You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” you respond instantly. Later, you’ll lay awake in your bed, feeling ashamed by your actions, by how readily captivated you were with him, by how easily he was able to manipulate you with those sapphire eyes and that rough voice—

But in that moment, you’ll do anything to pull that little smile from him, anything to hear him tell you you’re good. You just want to be good.

Something dark and primal flashes in those gorgeous eyes as they gaze down at you, a small grin spreading across his face. “Of course,” he repeats softly.

  ✰          ✰          ✰          

He begins to trust you more. You meet his friends, each one terrifying in their own right. Jin is alright, although his brain is fried from drugs, and he talks to and contradicts himself a lot, earning the nickname Twice from Tomura.

Tomura horrifies you to your very core—a tall, lanky man with sunken red eyes and sickly pale skin who looks like he’s one bad day away from death—and Touya tells you very sternly to stay away from him.

A university student not unlike yourself, Keigo is your favourite. Keigo is the most normal, with his wild blonde hair and enticing gold eyes that always look like they’re playfully holding the secrets of the universe just out of your grasp.

Keigo’s brain is always going a hundred miles a minute, although you’d never guess it with his trademark lazy drawl, speaking as if he hasn’t got a care in the world. But he can always keep a conversation going, knows exactly what to say to avoid awkward silences or lulls in the discussion, and you appreciate that. You think he’s so cool—he has so much knowledge about the oddest things, everything and anything, ‘a walking encyclopedia’, Tomura calls it, and it fascinates you to no end.

It’s the speed, Touya tells you one night while you’re laying on the couch, your body on top of his, the pads of his fingers dragging down your back in rhythmic strokes. Speed is Keigo’s drug of choice, you find out. Speed is the reason why Keigo knows as much as he does.

“Sometimes he doesn’t sleep for days,” Touya says. “That’s how he has all the time to memorize everything he knows—though that big overactive brain of his plays a part in it, too,”

The thought inexplicably makes your heart sink in your chest, and you don’t say anything else. If Touya notices your shift in mood, he doesn’t mention it. You idly wonder what Touya’s drug of choice is, but you’re too scared of the answer to ask.

  ✰          ✰          ✰          

It’s only a few nights later when you wake with a violent jolt, breathing laboured as you absentmindedly press your palm to your chest, trying in vain to calm your racing heart.

A nightmare.

You sit in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of your own harsh breaths echoing off the walls and debating what to do next. A minute later, you swing your legs over the side of the bed, wincing when your bare feet touch the cold hardwood, and pad down the hallway.

You try to trick yourself into believing that you aren’t using this purely as an excuse to spend the night with him. It really was so scary, you reason with yourself, it really has made you all shaken up…

Who are you kidding? You didn’t even attempt to go back to sleep.

You’ve been in his room plenty of times now—sitting daintily on his bed as he introduces you to new music, new movies, new books. Stuff that reminds him of you, he says, stuff that he thought you might be interested in. You’re grateful for it; there are so many things you’ve learned in the short time you’ve known him.

That isn’t all, though. There’s no denying the warmth that spreads through your body, that tiny excited flutter in your chest, when he calls your name and interlaces your fingers, leading you toward his room and telling you he’s got something to show you.

Yes, you’ve been in his room plenty of times now. But this is the first time you spend the night in his bed.

He’s still up, soft golden light leaking from under his closed bedroom door. Your hand quivers a little as you lift it to rap your knuckles against the wood. He appears in the doorway a moment later, leaning against the frame in a black t-shirt that looks like it’s a size or two too small for him, riding up to reveal a teasing sliver of milky skin, tips of his hipbones jutting out from the waistband of his plaid pajama pants.

“Princess? What is it?”

You didn’t realize you were staring, and you jump a little at his gravelly voice.

“Oh. I, um—Well, I just…had a nightmare a-and I can’t sleep,”

You can barely look him in the eyes as you say it, your cheeks burning. You both know it’s a lie.

But he plays along.

“Aw, baby,” he coos, drawing you into his arms, into his room, into his bed.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs as he turns on his side to face you, propping his head up with a hand. “Poor thing. Was it a bad one?”

Your mouth feels like its been stuffed with cotton, rendering you incapable of speech, tongue dry and sluggish. You nod in response, heat seeping into your cheeks again at just how loudly your heart is thumping while you roll onto your side. There’s only a few inches of space between your bodies now, his hot breath fanning across your face as he speaks again.

“Do you want niichan to help you forget about it?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, and you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes searching his. Your thighs squeeze together at the way his voice has dropped an octave, low and husky, familiar heat pooling in the depths of your belly. He waits patiently, lifting a hand to caress your cheek, then runs his fingertips down your bare arm, goosebumps following.

Finally, you nod. You think you see the corners of his lips quirk up into the slightest hint of a smirk, but you blink, and it’s gone.

“Here,” he whispers, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. Hand cupping your jaw, he tilts your face up and slots his mouth against yours.

You’ve kissed before, of course—in his bed, in yours, on the living room couch, on the kitchen counter with his hips shoved between your thighs—but this…this feels different.

These are kisses with intent, with purpose, with a goal in mind. These are kisses that keep you distracted—slow, soft, messy with saliva—as his hand slips down your body and between your thighs.

Your gasp breaks the kiss, wide eyes blinking up at him then fluttering shut as he brushes a knuckle against your clit. He hushes you, nimble fingers spreading your folds before he drags them up your slit, huffing out a laugh at how wet you already are.

“Were you thinking about something naughty before?” he gasps mockingly, sliding the pads of his fingers back down as he speaks.

His hand withdraws from your shorts and he orders you to lift your hips, tugging the waistband down your thighs. You squirm a little, forcing them further down your legs until you free yourself of them completely, eyes gazing up at him again, awaiting your next command.

Legs part dutifully as his hand travels back down to the apex of your thighs, pushing a finger into your soaking pussy.

It’s slow at first, thrusting leisurely with his middle finger a few times and loosening you up a little before adding his ring finger. Sapphire eyes watch his motions, captivated by how your eager little cunt sucks his fingers in selfishly.

“Look at that, huh?” he breathes, looking down at you. “Such a pretty little pussy you’ve got,”

You open your bleary eyes to peer at yourself, mesmerized by the way his fingers are pumping in and out of you, glistening in the dim light of his bedroom. He curls his fingers and you inhale sharply, hips twitching toward his palm.

“Oh?” he chuckles darkly, knuckles nudging the spot again. “Did niichan find something, baby?”

You don’t know, you’re not sure, you try to tell him, but all you can seem to manage is pathetic little whines while you nod your head.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he’s asking as the pads of his fingers tap against that spot, your entire body jolting.

“Y-Yes,” you whimper out, a little breathlessly. “But it’s never felt like this,”

“Aw, baby,” he coos, and it’s so condescending. “Then you weren’t doing it right, sweetheart,”

He quickens his pace, chuckles at the way you try to desperately fuck yourself on his fingers at such an awkward angle.

“Poor little thing, can’t even get herself off properly,” he tsks. “You need your niichan to do it for you, don’t you?”

Soft whines spill from your throat as you nod eagerly, your stomach coiling tightly.

“One day,” he breathes, curling his fingers with a vengeance this time, your hips rolling up off the mattress. “When we have the time, I’ll teach you how to make yourself feel so good,”  

He’s talking too much. You want to tell him this, tell him to shut the hell up, but every time you try to speak he presses the heel of his palm to your clit and grinds against it, effectively scattering all of your thoughts, soft mewls of niichan the only sound escaping your lips.

Can’t deny his voice is fucking hot though, a form of foreplay all on its own.

And he knows this, can read you like a goddamn book, especially when he’s got his fingers two knuckles deep inside of you. He can feel it, he tells you. You don’t even need to speak; he can feel your thoughts when his voice drops an octave and your cute little hole flutters, when he chuckles and your pussy clenches around his fingers—a slut for his voice, aren’t you?

“Pretty baby, you can’t do anything but nod dumbly, can you? Been fucked stupid by my fingers alone, huh?”

Your head barely moves, lost all control of your body by this point, only able to whimper in response.

“Gonna come all over my fingers, pretty girl?” the knuckle of his thumb begins grazing your clit in quick strokes. “C’mon, make a mess for niichan,”

And it’s pathetic, how quickly your body obeys. Your pussy squeezes once, twice, three times and you’re gushing all over his fingers, juices collecting in his palm, running down his wrist. You’re embarrassed—you’ve never cum that much before, have you?

Breathing still ragged, you nuzzle into his sheets, partially hiding your face from him. Nothing could hide the involuntary grin that forms on your lips, though. Arms snake under your boneless body, tugging a bit.

“Oh no, baby, we aren’t done yet,” Touya’s saying while he hoists you up, letting you lean heavily against him.

Head tilting in confusion, your glazed eyes find his. “Wh-What?”

He looks down at his lap and your gaze follows, a tiny whimper slipping past your lips at the bulge straining against his pants. “Doesn’t niichan deserve a nice reward for helping you forget that scary dream?”

Eyes darting back to his, you nod slowly, whispering out, “Yes. But—But…” But you’re hesitant; you’ve never done anything like this before. Shaking hands reach for the waistband of his pants, beginning to pull them down but freezing when the head of his cock peeks out.

Touya sighs. “Come on, you wanna be a good girl for niichan, don’t you?”

Of course. Of courses you do.

Then he wants you to touch him, he says. He’ll help you; he promises.

“But you gotta get it wet first,”

You ask how, and he laughs at you. “With your tongue, stupid,” he tells you.

He instructs you to kneel on the floor and you comply immediately, trembling legs folding beneath your body as you situate yourself between his knees. He inches forward on the bed a little, shuffling himself to the edge and caging you between his thighs. Bringing his cock close to your mouth, he taps the head against your closed lips.

They part instantly, obediently, his eyes flashing with something sinister as you take the head into your mouth and suck hesitantly, big eyes staring up at him waiting for approval.

He curses, his hips twitching ever so slightly, skin stretched taut over bony knuckles as a hand forms a fist in the sheets. Starting with kitten licks at first, the tip of your tongue barely touches him, tracing veins, then begins to gain more confidence as he groans a little, telling you what to you, that you’re doing good, so good for him.

Watching him through thick lashes, you have the audacity to look bashful as your tongue laves around the shaft, drenching it in saliva. A hand tangles in your hair and yanks, pulling you off his cock when he decides it’s sufficiently wet enough. Long fingers encircle your wrist, bringing your hand to form a fist around him.

“Like this,” he says, jerking your hand up and down.

You’re terrible at it, movements awkward and uncoordinated, but in that moment he doesn’t really care. He’s irritated a little, wondering out loud how anyone can be bad at handjobs while a large hand wraps around yours and forces you to speed up. Bad? Your heart sinks at the small three letter word, a hard lump forming in your throat, looking as though you may start crying.

But he cums quickly after that, ropes of searing hot white painting your cheeks and face. You watch him the entire time, panting a little, lips parted slightly and your tongue darts out to lick them, tasting him.

He laughs at your bitter reaction, and it’s such a patronizing sound.

“Don’t worry,” he says, collecting the cum off your face and forcing his fingers into your mouth. “Someday I’ll stuff your throat full of it.”

  ✰          ✰          ✰          

You can no longer mention needing—no, wanting—anything around him anymore, because within the next few days it’s sitting pretty and perfect on your bed, propped up against your lace trimmed pillows.

He’s so good to you; you should be grateful you have such a generous niichan, one who eats you out and spoils you with gifts. You’re so spoiled.

And he tells you this, in the dead of night when you wake to find him shoving his cock into you, snarling a little at your soft whines of protest.

“Don’t be a brat,” he warns. Just be a good girl and take his cock. He does so much for you, can’t you be good for him?

Yes, yes, you want to be good for him, you want to be the best for him.

By this point you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve woken up in the middle of the night with his head between your thighs, prepping you to take him.

“Stay sleeping, baby,” he’ll tell you, words whispered into your hair as his cockhead nudges against your hole.

As if you could ever stay sleeping when only a few minutes later he’s pounding you into oblivion, large hand clasped over your mouth so tightly his blunt nails are digging into your cheek, so hard that it’s yanking your head back, neck beginning to ache.

He tells you to be quiet, “You don’t want anyone to hear, do you? Then we’d have to stop, and you don’t want that, right, sweetheart?”

You don’t, you whimper. Of course you don’t—you want whatever he wants, you want to be his perfect little baby, you want to be told how good you take his cock, the praise mumbled against your skin in a low, strained voice right before he fills you with cum.

  ✰          ✰          ✰          

He disappears for a few days near the end of December. You have no idea where, Touya answering your curious texts with playful quips at first before he grows tired of it and tells you to stop fucking asking.

But eventually, he returns.

The front door slams shut and your body flinches with a jolt of excitement. Adrenaline spikes your blood when you hear his heavy boots colliding with the hardwood, getting louder, louder, louder…

He passes right by you, not glancing at you at all. Moments later, the sound of water hitting the tiled shower wall echoes down the hallway.

And you wait. Patiently, you wait, like the good little girl you are, not daring to move a muscle. Eventually he re-emerges, hair still damp, a few strands sticking to his neck.

With a groan, he collapses on the couch next to you, flopping his head into your lap and gazing up at you with glazed, blown sapphire eyes.

“You’re high,” you say softly, not accusatory, just an observation. He giggles a little.

“So what if I am?”

“What did you take?”

“Oh,” he gasps mockingly. “Oh no, baby, I can’t tell you that,”

Why? The question is burning on the tip of your tongue, and you can tell that he’s anticipating that to be your next response, but you bite down on your bottom lip, holding it in. You know his answer already, can practically hear his patronizing voice—Because good baby sisters aren’t supposed to know about stuff like this.

“Can I try some?” you ask instead.

All of the mirth fades from his eyes in an instant, and he moves in a flash despite his inebriated state, so quick you can barely tell what’s happening. His large hand wraps around your bicep in a bruising grasp, pulling you towards him as he sits up, his face an inch away from yours.

“Absolutely fucking not,” he spits, cobalt eyes blazing and voice rumbling against your chest. “And if I so much as catch wind that you’re using, have a mere feeling that you’ve tried it—even just once—I’ll slaughter you and the fucker you got it from. Do you understand me?”

Surprised tears spring into your eyes and you nod jerkily, body beginning to tremble as your breath gets caught in your throat. You want to tell him that you didn’t mean it, honest, you promise!; that you were just kidding around, you swear!, but you can’t, voice mangling itself with the hitched little breaths on the back of your tongue.

He growls at your silence, his grip around your arm tightening and you cry out, terrified that he might actually crush the bone with his bare hand.

“Say, yes Touya, I understand,”

“Y-Yes Touya, I understand,” you manage to stutter out, voice returning only at the command of a direct order, tears spilling over and rolling down your cheeks in pairs. His eyes search your face for a moment, his features contorted in fury, before he sneers at you, squeezing your arm once then roughly letting go, shoving you away from him.

You fall backward against the arm of the couch, heart thumping so vigorously you’re sure he can hear it. He groans, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, exasperated.

“Fuck,” he sighs, eyes opening to glare at the ceiling. “You’ve ruined my high,”

You stare at him, breath coming out in uneven huffs, clinging to the couch.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, terrified to move lest you upset him more.

He’s silent for a moment, still staring up, until he lolls his head to the side, glancing at you through the corner of his eye. A small smirk spreads across his face.

“C’mere,” he says, nodding his head a little in indication.

“Wh-What?”

“C’mere,” he repeats. “Come make it up to me,”

Your body’s moving before you’ve given it permission to, crawling into his lap obediently, thighs on either side of his hips. His smirk widens, and you love it—you love how much control he has over you without even trying, you love the way a quiet whimper slips through your lips as his large hands begin kneading your flesh, running up your legs and grabbing your ass.

Lips trail up the column of your neck, and you tilt your head back, a silent plea for more. You can feel the way his lips curl into a grin against your skin, nipping at it a second later.

“So, how you gonna make it up to me? Huh?” he shifts his hips under you, pressing his hard cock into your clothed core. You whine a little, grinding against him.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” you breathe out while sharp teeth mar your collarbone.

“The hell you waiting for? Show me,”

You begin sliding down his body and he pushes on your shoulders, forcing you to your knees between his spread thighs. He watches you through half-lidded eyes, gaping pupils outlined by a thin ring of blue.

Holding his gaze, you lean forward with your pretty little tongue hanging out and begin licking along the straining bulge, tracing it slowly, the denim rough against your sensitive muscle. You relent though, lapping at his clothed cock in slow, long strokes, and his jeans are just thin enough for you to feel him pulse in response.

A giggle bubbles up past your lips, muffled by the denim, already beginning to feel heady as you pull simple reactions from him. Your mouth forms a cute little ‘o’ and you suck on him the best you can through his jeans, drooling all over his lap and soaking through the material.

The hand in your hair tightens into a fist, yanking hard and pulling your mouth away. “Stop fucking teasing,” he warns, a hint of something ominous in his voice.

You obey, because you always obey, tiny fingers working to quickly unbuckle his belt, pop the button, yank down the zipper. He aids you, lifting his hips and allowing you to tug his jeans down his thighs enough for his cock to spring out.

His own hand wraps around the shaft, you pausing mid-action as you reach for it.

“Open,” he demands, your dutiful lips parting immediately, letting him push his cock into the warm, wet cavern.

He sets a brutal, punishing pace from the start, refusing to give you a single moment to adjust. His other hand fists in your hair, forcing you to stay still as he rams his cock down your throat.

Reflexive tears burn your eyes, blurring your vision. You blink quickly to clear them, desperate to watch him, to catalogue all of his micro-expressions and the sound of his voice as he grunts out your name, to burn it into your mind, etch it into your very soul.

Touya’s head falls back against the couch, Adams apple bobbling with his rough whimpers, long neck and sharp collarbone on full display. If your mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied, you’d love to lick up his smooth skin, to trace the dips of his collarbone with your tongue and sign your name in brilliant splotches of blue and purple.

You’re gagging around his cock now, starting to feel lightheaded and struggling to inhale enough oxygen. The ache in your jaw is beginning to spread, but you ignore it, stretching your mouth open wider, to take more, to be good for him, to make him proud. It’s worth it for the hoarse, throaty moans you’re pulling from him, to hear your name shuddered out, followed by a breathy, “Fuck,”

He forces hot cum down your throat a moment later, and you choke on it, sputtering around his cock, throat spasming as it tries to force the foreign object out. He won’t let it, though. He holds your head in place, nose pressed against his pubic bone, and you can do nothing but take it, like a good little girl, like he tells you to.

But it’s all worth it. It’s all worth it, to hear his broken whines like that, to have him look down at you and pull your hair and tell you you’re good, so good for him.

And you’re sobbing by the end of it, gasping for air the moment he lets go of you, wheezing violently as your head collapses against his thigh.

“Did I—” you cough, voice raspy from having your throat fucked raw, “—Did I make it up to you, niichan?” you gaze up at him, eyelashes spiky with residual water. You’re the perfect picture of obedience, strands of hair stuck to your face where your salty tears have dried and swollen lips gleaming with saliva as you watch him with glittering eyes, waiting desperately for his praise.

He looks down at you, eyes devious and diabolical, chest heaving a little. “Of course you did,” he tells you, corners of his lips tugging up into a sharp smirk as you melt into him. “You always do, don’t you?”

[chubbybuckydumpling]

Royally Screwed

words: 4.2k

pairing: chubby!stableboy!bucky x royal!female!reader

warnings: arguing, period (probably not) accurate problems, smut, fluff, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, power dynamics

A/n: dear anon, I’m sorry it took me 2 months to write this, I hope you’re not too upset. I changed the original prompt a little, I hope you still like it! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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The wind is blowing through your hair, a cool breeze that relieves you from the hot summer sun. Your horse is galloping under you, his strong legs taking you over the loose ground. The rays warm your face, a welcome sensation. You missed this, riding through the afternoon, taking time to just live, all troubles and worries forgotten.

Admiral has always been close to you, your first horse and best friend since you were twelve years old, merely a child. The Arabian Stallion slows down to a trot on your command, the high grass tickling his side. You let your hands roam over his dark mane, feeling the sturdy hair under your fingers.

A single bumblebee flies ahead of you, its loud buzz making you smile. The scene around you makes your heart feel lighter, a warm feeling that floats through your chest. You let Admiral come to a halt and slide down from your saddle.

You trail your hand over the horse’s muscles, the short hair caressing your palm. His strong snout nudges your arm and he neighs, causing you to giggle, “You did so well, boy” You wrap your arms around Admiral’s muscular throat.

His scent fills your nose, it’s familiarity never fails to bring you comfort. The animal scratches over the earthy ground as the sound of hooves hitting the floor ripples through the air. You whip around, parting yourself from your companion. A little further away, you see two of the guards coming your way. Their horses are quick and strong, but they have nothing on your Admiral.

“Lady Y/n”, they yell out and you can’t help but roll your eyes. The men reach you quickly, panic in their eyes, “Your highness, you must remain in close proximity for us to successfully protect you at any time”, one of them states, trying to deepen his voice.

“Of course”, you smile at them, “it wasn’t my intention” A lie. You purposely mislead them to have a moment of your own, some quiet minutes of peace. The guards exchange glances until one of them shrugs. “We see. Now, it is of utmost importance to immediately escort you home. We shall keep you as safe as possible, your highness”

You sigh internally, but follow the mens’ orders without argument. Admiral snorts stubbornly, but reluctantly follows your lead.

The sound of birds singing and insects chirping brings you great joy as you gently rock back and forth with the steady trot of your horse. Unknowingly, these were the last moments you would spend outside of the castle for quite some time.

The guards at the gate salute as you pass them. The warm sun has kept you comfortable in the open where the wind was stronger, but you quickly start to heat up inside the walls of your father’s estate. Admiral soon comes to a halt in front of your mother. The woman is fuming as she approaches you, her face twisted into an angry grimace.

“Your father and I need to talk to you, young lady! You are in serious trouble”, her malicious voice hisses as you jump off of Admiral’s back. Your mother’s fingers wrap around your arm to pull you towards her, but a warm smile is on her face. A muscle in her jaw twitches and exposes her true anger. She speaks to one of your guards, but you can’t be bothered to listen for something has caught your attention.

A man has walked up to your horse to pet his head. He is gentle with Admiral, careful and loving even. You let your eyes rake over the man. The typical stable boy clothes are obscuring your view, but you can make out the bulge of his tummy, his big arms and thick thighs. His long brown hair falls over his face, some strands are stuck to his forehead as the sweat glistens over his face. This man looks like an absolute dream and you can feel your lips twitching up.

You begin to walk towards him, a giddy feeling brewing up in your stomach, but your mother pulls you back, “Oh no, you are not getting out of this one. Follow me, now” She drags you behind her and you wish to struggle against her grasps, but won’t dare to resist her. Not at that time at least. You take one last glance in his direction, hoping to see his face, more of him. You find his gaze, stare into the warm blue of his eyes before your mother pulls you out of his view.

A sad sigh escapes your lips, but you promise yourself to go and find him as soon as possible. The way he looked at you, sweet and shy, is replaying in your head, his sweaty form a picture in your mind. Whoever that man is, he makes your insides throb with desire.

Your father’s yelling rips you out of your trance and you look up to meet his vicious glare. He takes a deep breath with closed eyes and when he meets your eyes again he looks calmer. His hand reaches out to your face, cupping your cheek.

“My daughter, what am I going to do with you?”, his voice suddenly sounds sad, “Y/n, you know that you need to enter a marriage soon. I need you to be on your best behaviour, this is about your future. I only want good things for you” You rest your palm over your father’s, “I know, father” He brushes his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “You’re so beautiful, my only daughter. I know this isn’t what you want, but at least let me make it as pleasant as possible for you”

You sigh and stare right past your father, “I already gave my word to marry whomever you choose, father” His hand falls from your face and wraps around your fingers, “I don’t want to hand you to anyone, don’t you understand? I want someone that cares about you” He squeezes your hand, “But you need to behave,Y/n. The men of higher status, they won’t accept an ill-mannered, rebellious women”

Enraged, you rip away from his touch, “I am not ill-mannered” Your mother gasps at your outburst, but your father smiles at you. He steps forward and grabs you by the shoulders, “I know that. Believe me, I do. But these other men don’t” A sigh escapes your lips, but you nod nevertheless, “Okay, father. I will do my best” He grins and it jumps right over to you.

Your father pulls you into a warm hug and whispers to you, barely audible, “I could not be prouder of you, my child” A warm, comforting feeling spreads through your chest and you feel like a little girl, no worries or problems, just love and happiness on your mind. You pull away from the hug and watch your father’s eyes crinkle.

Your mother forces a cough and directs a pointed glare at her husband. He sighs and turns to you, “However, your mother and I have decided to ground you for the next few days. We cannot let your temperament ruin your future. We ask you to stay on the estate’s grounds” This is obviously your mother’s doing. She always cared more about your standing and reputation, but you’ve learned to just accept her orders.

“Yes, father”, you nod at them, “Mother” A satisfied look settles on the woman’s face, hands clasped tightly. “You are excused”, your father rasps and you leave the room, a sour look sneaking onto your lips. Stupid marriages. All of your life, the fact that you will be married off as soon as someone worthy shows interest, has been hovering over you, a subconscious thought that drained your energy, leaving you exhausted and numb. You can’t believe that this dreaded day is moving closer so fast.

You enter your room and sit down on your bed. The mattress gives out under your weight and perfectly molds into a comfortable shape. You let yourself fall until you’re lying flat on your back and close your eyes. Slowly, the darkness and exhaustion consumes you ,hugging you like a warm blanket.

The shine of the moonlight dancing through the window rouses you from your sleep. The light has a slight pink tint and colours the dim room in a nice shimmer. A yawn escapes your mouth and you sit up. The cool air makes goosebumps appear on your skin, yet you feel drawn to it. Suddenly, an idea pops into your mind. Surely, nobody would notice if you left for a little to see Admiral.

A grin sneaks on your lips as you wipe the nasty crumbs from your eyes. Quickly, but careful to remain silent, you dress in your warmer riding clothes, the training ones, not the dresses. Thick, warm leggings and a nice, comfortable pullover. On your way out, you grab a wooly hat to cover your ears, smiling mischievously.

Skipping, you make your way through the halls. A giddy sensation rumbles in your belly, the excitement of knowing you’re about to go on a ride. The door knob feels cool under your skin as you turn it to open it. The freezing air seeps into the kitchen, swirling around your body. Adrenaline shoots through your veins and your legs begin to move on their own, moving faster and faster until you’re running, your feet carrying you over the well known path.

You come to an abrupt stop when you see a small light in the stables, most likely a lit candle. Nervously, you sneak closer to peek around the corner. In the dim shine you manage to make out the features of the beautiful stable boy from earlier that day. His hair is falling free, framing his chubby face so beautifully.

A long sleeved linen shirt layered with a dark vest and brown trousers clad his thick form in such a delicious way. For some reason, this man made you feel things. To your surprise however, he is standing next to Admiral, gently stroking the horse’s strong, defined face. Weird, you find yourself thinking, Admiral usually does not tolerate close proximity with anyone but yourself.

That fact is seriously arousing. This beautiful man being so gentle to your hot headed horse is insanely attractive. Your heart fills with warmth the longer you watch him. He whispers into his fur, smiling adoringly at him. The stable boy’s big hands look so soft against Admiral’s fur, his thick, long digits massaging the strong muscles. You bite down on your lower lip, a sly smirk forming. This beautiful sight almost made you forget about the cold.

Your lungs fill with air as you take a breath of encouragement before you move out of the hiding spot. Making sure to move your hips extra seductively, you wander closer to the man of your desire. It’s easy to pinpoint the moment he notices you by the way his eyes double in size and his entire body freezes. The look of fear in his eyes tugs at your heartstrings.

Gently, you take a step closer to him, but he shies away from you, like a baby deer, scared and vulnerable. “Lady Y/n, I beg your pardon. I didn't mean to intrude”, he stumbles through the words, clearly afraid he upset you. You smile in hope of looking safe and not angry. “You’re fine”, your voice is gentle, almost like you’re talking to a child, “It’s impressive. Admiral really seems to like you”

He shyly looks up to you to gauge your reaction, nervously playing with his fingers. “He’s very beautiful”, the man whispers and tucks some of his loose strands of hair behind his ear. You grin, taking another step forward, “He is”, you reach out to scratch Admiral’s neck, “So are you”

A deep blush rises on his cheeks, warming his skin. You continue talking, eyes trained on the stable boy’s chubby face, smiling warmly at him, “So, what’s your name, pretty boy?” Nerves cloud his eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly, “James, b- but people call me Bucky”

“That’s a real pretty name”, you purr, “Bucky”, testing out how the word feels rolling off your tongue. Lower lip between your teeth, you reach out to touch his biceps. His strong muscles flex under your touch, but it feels soft beneath your skin. Your fingertips squeeze around him as a surge of want ripples through your body.

“I saw you with Admiral this afternoon and I could not stop thinking about you. You’re so good with him, it’s very”, you smirk and lean closer to him, lips right next to his ear, “arousing”. The whispered word makes him gulp and he feels himself twitching in his loose pants. He can’t deny he feels attracted to you, especially in these casual clothes that you’re wearing right now.

He’s been eying you for months now, always hidden away in the shadows or behind corners. He heard so much gossip, so many rumours that intrigued him, but your bond with Admiral really did him in. To see how caring and tender you were with the horse made him crave the same attention from you. He wanted your affections and love, almost like he needed them, but he knew better than to approach you. His family depends on his earnings, he would not challenge that security he could provide. But now it seemed like maybe he could have both.

The close proximity makes his heart race, your breath tickling his sensitive skin. You feel his nerves, so you move even closer, pressing your body against his. He tenses up, but shyly reaches for your waist. “I really want you right now, Bucky”, you whimper, pushing your breasts forward and up against his chest. His breath catches in his throat, but he somehow finds the energy to tighten his grip on you.

The feeling of your body against his further arouses him, a shiver running down his spine. With all the courage he could muster, he looks up at you, “I really want you too” Your hands run over his chest and grip onto the edges of his vest, “Then take me”

Pulling on the leather, your mouths crash together. His rough, chapped lips fit right onto your own soft lips, a result of your maid’s tending. The smacking sound immediately helps you relax into Bucky’s frame, letting out a little sigh. With newfound confidence, he traces your lower lip with his warm tongue, leaving you yearning for a taste.

You open up for him, letting him explore your mouth. He moans at the feeling, licking into you greedily. Little glimmers of want spark in your belly, nipples hardening as the simmering pleasure begins to grow. Your saliva mixes with his, tongues dancing together in an aroused display of want.

Just as you were about to shrug off his leather vest, Admiral neighs right next to you. Bucky shrieks, jumping away from you. You stare at him, a slight fear of being caught running through you before a grin etches on your lips, laughter bubbling in your chest. Bucky mimics your giggling, his eyes crinkling adorably, lips swollen.

Grinning you pet your horse once, but turn to the chubby stable boy to pull him after you. The back of the stable is dark, only Bucky’s candle serving as a source of light. You turn around, coming face to face with the pretty boy. The golden glow makes him look so beautiful, the breath stuck in your throat. It’s completely silent, only the sounds of your breathing audible.

You gulp, stepping even closer to him. Carefully, you take his candle and place it on the floor, close to a pile of hay. “Bucky”, you whisper, “please” He takes a deep breath, but closes the distance between you two, once again connecting your mouths. Gently, he grabs you by your waist, both hands feeling warm and powerful on your body. Your own fingers wrap around his neck, playing with his beautiful hair.

With tongues intertwined, Bucky closes his arms around you to lead you towards the hay, supporting your weight. “Wait”, he mumbles against your lips, reluctantly pulling out of the embrace, “Let me just…” With care, he shrugs off his vest and places it over the hay. A soft smile spreads over your face, a funny feeling whirling in your belly. You take the chance to take off your hat.

“Well then, gentleman”, a purring sound fills the air, “I could use some help undressing” He gulps, eyes widening in arousal. Slowly his hands find your hips, fingers sliding under your shirt. The immediate warmth that seeps into your skin makes you gasp, moaning lightly at the feeling. His digits trace your skin, gently lifting up your shirt so you can take it off.

His hands roam your exposed skin, exploring your body to his full extinct, feeling every curve and uneven spot. You reach behind your back, unclasping your sturdy bra. Bucky gasps at the sight, eyes trained on your exposed breasts. Your nipples harden, once more, under his fiery gaze and you gently push his hands towards the, your body burning for his touch.

The moment his palm cups you, a needy moan escapes you which spurs Bucky on to massage your breasts with more enthusiasm, toying with your nipples. Greedily you let your hands wander under his linen shirt, reveling in the feeling of his soft skin. The chubby rolls feel delicious under your touch, gending to your wishes. You hastily free him from the offending clothing, pressing your body against his.

Arousal and need is flaming inside you and you desperately press your lips together into a hungry kiss, teeth crashing against each other. “Please, I need you so much” He nods, breathless, and gently lays you down on his vest. You catch a glimpse of his tented trousers, saliva running in your mouth, the sight so delicious, especially paired with his big thighs.

Bucky’s chubby fingers work your fuzzy leggins down your legs. The cold air causes goosebumps to raise on your skin. You hear him gasp when he looks at your exposed heat,dilated eyes transforming into a hungry stare. “You’re beautiful”, he groans, his hand cautiously travelling up your thighs. You nod as confirmation and Bucky runs two of his digits up your heat.

He traces your outer lips, your anticipation rising. You hold your breath, hands running through the hay that the vest doesn’t cover. Finally, he leans up and spits on your core, further lubricating you. He finds your clit and begins to rub gentle circles into it, a stuttered breath leaving your mouth.

Bucky trails down to your opening, carefully inserting two of his fingers into you. “Fuck”, he groans, pushing in further, “you’re so tight and wet” He starts to fuck you with them, slowly at first, then faster, his gaze set on you. The squelching noises fill the air, soon joined by your moans. Suddenly he hits a special spot and you arch your back, pressing into him as a loud, guttural groan leaves you.

Your gaze meets Bucky’s and you begin to move your hips on your own, “Please do it again, do it again” Your begging eggs him on and he adds another finger, his strong thrusts leaving you breathless. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, pleasure building up in your lower belly.

All of a sudden you feel something wet around you, followed by a suction right around your sensitive nub. You moan loudly, hands flying into his hair. His penetrating gaze meets your eyes and with an especially hard suck the coil in your tummy snaps and you cum around his fingers, your core grabbing him tightly. You feel him moan against you, but he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, prolonging the addictive high.

Finally, you regain your senses and push him away from you, too sensitive for any further stimulation. You look at him. He sits in front of you, his chin wet with your slick, chubby belly rolls folding into each other deliciously, his trousers tented with his obvious want. A smile plays over your lips, “You look so beautiful like this, James”

He perks up when you mention his name, a shy, but aroused glint in his eyes. “You really think so?”, he sounds so little your heart starts aching for him. “I’ve never seen someone as stunning as you”, you crawl up to him, hands on his cute little cheeks. You feel his breath graze your lips and lunge forward, mouth against his, tongues tangling.

One of your hands drops lower to cup him. He feels heavy in your palm and so nice. A craving awakes inside you and you squeeze him through his trousers, a lovely moan ringing in your ears. Your fingertips hook around the waistband and you pull all the bothersome clothing off of him. His cock jumps free. It looks delicious, hard and slightly curved to the side, thick veins running along the length of it. The bulbous head is covered with his foreskin, a trail of precum has made its way down some of it.

The sight of him is so beautiful, his thick thighs making you bite down on your lip. You bow down, one hand gripping his leg, the other slowly fisting his cock. You watch as the foreskin pulls back to show his wet, sensitive head. With one last look into his face, which is contorted in pleasure, you take him in your mouth, slowly sinking down on him.

He moans, hands cupping the back of your head. You suck on him, yearning for his cum, his taste .Fondling his balls, you become even more hungry for him. He smells so husky, so good, mouthwatering even. Slowly, you take him even deeper, your nose buried in the curly pubic hair. His hips stutter, pressing his length even further into your throat, a hearty groan leaving him. You splutter around him, your gag reflex kicking in.

Pulling off, you take deep breaths, spit running down your chin. “‘m sorry”, Bucky mutters, his own hand now wrapped around himself, fisting his wet cock, “It just feels so good” Your pussy clenches at his words and you lay back down, spreading your legs. “I bet this will feel even better”

Bucky groans at the sight and shuffles closer. He runs his thick head along your slit, coating it in your wetness. Managing to hit your sensitive clit with his cock, he groans, twitching in want. Gently, Bucky positions himself at your stretched hole and begins to push in. He moans, steadily spreading you over his cock until he bottoms out.

Sweat runs down Bucky’s face, pleasure and desperation filling him. He tries to refrain himself, but when you begin to whimper and grab onto his thick arms he crumbles. Bottoming out, his fat balls slap against your bum. Slowly he pulls out again, just to thrust right back into you. His cock is so hard and curved perfectly, he fits inside you so well.

The sounds of skin slapping and moaning is the only thing you can hear, sweaty bodies moving in unison, a play of mutual pleasure, need and adoration. Bucky’s chubby belly feels so good against you, especially paired with the delicious feeling of him hitting your spongy g-spot over and over again.

His hands are all over your body, grabbing handfuls of your breasts, playing with your nipples, holding your thighs and squeezing your waist. His moans and whimpers sound so delicate and sexy, almost serene and calming, but so arousing. The squelching of where your core envelopes him makes you arch into him, his chub so soft against you, yet his obvious strength makes you clench.

His length fills you so good, his hard, quick thrusts turning you on enormously. His fattened up cock makes you mewl, all the sensations adding up into one big coil of pleasure.

Bucky’s sounds grow louder, his hard thrusts faster, more irregular. His cock begins to pulse in you when he drops a hand to your sensitive nub, drawing quick, strong circles on it. Your body is on fire, spasming under the stable boy, your hips meeting his thrusts. You feel so close to the edge and when Bucky grunts, “You’re so good for me, you’re gonna make me cum” you fall over.

Your body shakes, yet you feel like you’re floating. A warm, fuzzy sensation enveloping you, like a soft blanket hugging you close. You feel Bucky’s naked skin against you, his fingers on your skin and his breathing against your neck, but you can’t open your eyes. He grunts loudly and pulls out, but you’re so blissed you don’t find the energy to do anything but whimper.

“Thank you”, he mumbles, his soft lips resting near your collarbone, some spare hairs tickling you nicely.

Slowly, you become more conscious and manage to blink, opening your eyes. Bucky is cuddled against your side, laying on the hay. His arm is wrapped over your waist. You spot his white cum on your tummy; It looks slightly dried and feels a little itchy.

You turn to look at him, a soft smile forming at his beautiful face. His long hair frames him so well, a delicate sight that makes your fingers itch to draw. Instead, you cuddle closer to him and close your eyes. You know you’ll have to get up soon, nobody can find out about this, but for now you want to enjoy this moment of peace and serenity for a little while longer.

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[bonky-n-steeb]

𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙴

𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙆!𝘽𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙈𝙊𝘽!𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Your life is as good as it gets. The perfect husband, the perfect daughter, the perfect job. But what you are unaware is that your husband is a deadly assassin and your long-lost friend, now a fearsome mob boss is hell bent on getting you back. But what you don’t know can't hurt you, right?

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: psychological disorder, PTSD, domestic abuse, yandere, obsession, violence, cursing. If you find any of this triggering please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.

ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, sᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ

Oh, lawd! i have to post everything again! Send me all your energy. If you wanna be tagged, just inform me!

Also, I’ll be changing the story by a little, (or by a lot, idk) from my previous version.

You were feeling like John Travolta from the music video of Stayin’ Alive. Vibing to your own rhythm, living your own freedom. Attending college miles away from your hometown, you were the captain of your ship. Though you loved your parents more than anything, you were glad for the freedom granted upon you.

Your Freshmen year had just begun and you had already made a few friends. But what you didn’t want to accept just yet was your crush on one of them, Bucky. With his steely blue eyes and boyish charm, even a goddess might fall for him, and you were just a mortal. You were simply happy with being friends as you believed he would never like you and well, a little crush never hurt nobody.  

Completing your shift in a local bookstore, just outside the campus, you were walking back, lost in your own thoughts. What caught your attention was a group of howling high schoolers; from the look of it, they were barely a year to two younger than you. A group of tall and popular kids were bullying a skinny, helpless dude; ufff the usual cliché you thought to yourself. What you failed to notice though was his bleeding nose.  

You were a kind soul, always helping others, but you were no fool. All alone in an unknown town, you weren't going to confront the burly teens who were twice your own size. After giggling and cracking some stupid jokes on the poor dude trying to impress a girl, they left him and that’s when you noticed all the blood. You quickly crossed the road and walked towards him. He seemed smaller than he was as he was crouching down and trying to rub all the blood.

“Hey! Pinch your nose, don’t disturb it by rubbing.” you said while bending down. “Uhh, okay... thanks!” he looked at you with big doe eyes and you were utterly mesmerized by the blue oceans he had for his eyes. “Do you.. Do you need something else kid? Where do you live?” you asked giving him a candy and your water bottle. “I’m no kid!” he exclaimed and you flinched.  

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. You are helping me and here I am shouting at you.” You could clearly see remorse in his eyes and you wondered why would someone hurt him? “yeah, yeah.. It's Okay... now have this candy, the sugar will help you feel better.” you said with a soft smile. “thank you so much... and by the way I live two streets across. I mean I can go by myself, I'm a grown-up.. But...” he trailed off and you helped him get up.

“I’m Steve” he tried his best to smile and you followed by sharing your own name. And with that his chatter train began, he explained that he was just trying to help another girl getting bullied, when the bullies decided to change their target and chase Steve instead.

“you should wear your own mask first and then help others wear theirs.” you quipped and instantly bit your tongue. “Hmm, what?” he asked genuinely curious. “what I meant is that you did what is correct and very brave, but sometimes you gotta think for yourself too. But these are just my thoughts.” you shrugged. “I’ll remember that.” he said with a genuine expression. And after a million thank yous he finally went in his house. By the size of his house, he seemed rich and you wondered maybe this wasn't that cliché.  

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

The next day, you were walking back the same road, when you thought of Steve. He really was a kind and sweet person. This world needed more of people like him. And just then you saw him smiling brightly and waving at you, his nose bandaged. He had a huge box in his hand.

“Heyyyyy! Thank you for helping me yesterday. So I just... kinda got this as a ... a token of appreciation. I considered you might like donuts, so I got you this.” He said rubbing his nape. His cheeks had become so red he looked like a ripe tomato. “well, if you haven’t already given me diabetes by saying so many thank yous, after eating sooo many donuts I’ll surely get it.” At that you both chuckled and the atmosphere became lighter. As you picked a donut, he looked at you with such admiration you thought you would melt then and there.

Suddenly with a stern expression you asked “what if it’s drugged?” His eyes widened and he stuttered, “I... I would never do that ...” he looked down and you thought he might cry. “hey waittt.. don’t get so sad.. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. I was just joking. I have this really bad habit of saying things when I shouldn’t. God I just ruined everything.” You just made a mental note not to joke around him, he seemed to be quite emotional. Though it was going to be difficult to tame your tongue. “don’t be. I just take things too literally.... anyway let’s have some donuts what say?” He said with such shine in his eyes you wondered whether he was sad just a moment before.

You both walked up to your university campus, munching on donuts. You both shared things about yourselves. You told him how you were passionate in becoming a doctor. He on the other hand talked about his struggles in studying. “will you help me? You are so smart and bright, will you help me study if I have a doubt or something?” he asked giving his big doe eyes.

You weren’t going to agree at first, you had just met him a day ago. But after looking in those calm blue pools of his eyes you agreed. Seeing the joy on his face, you wondered whether he just won an Oscar.

What you didn’t know was that Steve had already fallen in love with you, yes love, he was convinced that you were the one for him, his one true love. Not a moment had he been able to think of anything but you since he had met you. You were everything he needed and wanted and much more. He was simply desperate to spend more time with you.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

It had been around six months since you met Steve. Over the time you two had turned out to be best friends. While Steve had fallen even more in love with you, you had fallen hopelessly in love with bucky. While you always told bucky about Steve and vice versa, you never confessed to Steve about your love for Bucky, thus furthermore increasing his hopes. You desperately wished to make Steve and Bucky meet. They were two important people in your life and you more than anything wished that they got together well.  

Today was the day when you decided to arrange a small meet and greet at the park where you and Steve met every day. You and Bucky walked together towards the tree where you usually sat with Steve waiting there for you. You knew both would like each other, but somewhere deep within your gut you were getting a not-so good feeling about this.  

Steve’s eyes lit up seeing you but as they turned to Bucky, it felt as if all the energy had been sucked out of him. You didn’t like that one bit. “Bucky!?” Steve exclaimed in half disappointment and half fear. “You both... you both know each other?” you ask bewildered. You tried chuckling to lighten the mood but by the looks of it they were sworn enemies, but you prayed that you were wrong. “yeah, we know each other a little too well... Uh... We were good friends once.” Steve quietly admitted.

All this time Bucky had his jaw clenched, dragging in a deep breath he began. “I knew it! I knew it would be you, you little fucker! You want to have everything don’t you? Goddammit! I had this feeling it was you but I thought it was too much of a coincidence, but no. fate had to be so cruel.” you were shocked to see Bucky's sudden outburst. You wondered what conspired between the two, as either hadn’t ever mentioned the other.  

You were snapped out of your thoughts with Bucky calling your name. “let’s go. I don’t want to see him even for a minute more and neither do you.” Bucky started pulling your hand but you stopped him “Bucky no. I guess you have some misunderstanding; Steve is a good person. And you don’t get to tell me who to talk to and who to not.”

Suddenly Bucky turned back to Steve, anger written all over his face. “You didn’t tell her, huh, did you? Don’t worry I'll tell her. Steve is the son of Joseph Rogers and he is the freaking Don Corleone of this area. Do you know how my father died? Steve’s father had him killed just because unknowingly he provided shelter to his father’s fugitive. Steve just pretends to be a caring, emotional person but he is a snake behind that mask, so is everyone in his family.” towards the end Bucky was in tears and you were in utter shock. Now that you tried to remember, Steve never really did tell you much about his family. And the fact that Steve wasn’t denying any single allegation made you want to puke your guts out.

“You have taken too much from me. But not this. Not her. Not the woman I love more than anything.” Bucky said it out loud in the heat of the moment. You were too dumbstruck to even blink. Did Bucky just confess that he loved you?  

Bucky turned to you and held your arm with such softness you wondered if he was just now screaming his lungs out at Steve. “I know I can't tell you who to be with, and I promise I never will in the future, but trust me you want to be caught up with him or his family. And still, if you choose him, well then, I can’t be with you.”

You knew you had to make a choice then and there, there was no going back, and you chose Bucky.

[dazz-linglight]

i love your work sm !! could you do an enemies to lover smut with jake from enhypen <3

(thank u bby ❤️ here it is!)

You stepped out of the elevator and to his apartment door, sighing before ringing the doorbell twice. It took a small while, but the door swung open inwards halfway, showing the young man you've been visiting more often than you should, leaning against the wall. Your gaze ran over him up and down, taking note of his damp hair lying limply, almost covering his hooded brown eyes, fresh out of shower. A glass of wine was in one hand, the other adjusting the collar of the white bathrobe he wore, revealing his defined collarbones and a bit of his chest. Your eyes darted away and your cheeks heated up as he smirked at you.

"Come on in." You did so, closing the door behind you and took a few moments to compose your breathing. It wasn't the first time that you've met like this. But each and every single time you still had to struggle to keep composure.

"What's wrong?" You heard his breathy yet even voice against your right ear and it made you shudder, leaning towards the other side. However, his hand was already placed gently low on your back, a pleasurable chill running down your neck.

"Nothing." Your voice came out in a breathy gasp as you turned over to catch him studying you closely, eyes cool and calm, one side of his lips upturned slightly. Both his hands were now against the door and you trapped between him and it. He leaned in slowly, lips falling ajar, staring between your eyes and lips. Your lips fell open as well, both arms reaching out around his neck. One pulled him closer, the other wrapped at the base of his neck gripping the roots of his hair.

"We really have to stop meeting like this." You said when both of you were so close your breath mingled. "I know we're from rival companies and my father doesn't like yours, but I don't wanna hide anymore."

"I was just waiting for you to say it. Then we can tell everybody anytime you want." He brushed his nose against yours, forehead resting against yours.

"Later, right now I want to get busy with you."

"So just close your eyes, relax, and let's enjoy each other." His soft lips made contact with yours and you finally breathed in, sucking against on them desperately now that he was finally touching you. One of his hands tugged on your top, pulling the straps down and the other cupping your jaw, feeling your cheek and you melted leaning into his touch and deepened the kiss. In a tangle of lips, hands and tongues, he placed a leg between your thighs, pushing you further against the door and creating a well deserved friction for your needy core. His left hand traveled to your right breast, desperate to get to feel your bare skin, squeezing and disconnecting his plump lips from yours to kiss your neck, looking back at you who was breathless and full of desire, the beauty he wanted to see everyday.

"I can't wait to make those guys stop staring at you at the parties." He mumbled leaving a hickey right on the base of your neck and letting his robe fall open to work on removing your clothes. Soon enough your legs wrapping around Jake's waist tightly, his muscular arms snaked around your body securely.

“They never had a chance.” You let out a soft moan to his satisfaction as he connected to your core, his gaze piercing enough to make your knees go weak if he wasn’t holding you up. It felt deliciously dizzying- his mouth against your skin, the soft sounds that would leave his lips, even his heavy breathing made your mind race with desire as he thrusts in and out. It went on just like that, lips locked, mixed breaths, eyes black in lust as you two were panting. The room continued heating up and you couldn't tell if it's him or if it's the atmosphere you two were sharing. Nonetheless, you were already losing it. He's too good to resist. Every intake of breath came after a string of saliva was present, sounds of heavy breathing and needy whimpers echoed throughout walls in a way that certainly would result in noise complaints later.

His strokes get stronger and you gasp at his aggressiveness, hugging him tighter than before. He smirks at your surrender and moves his face away from your lips to your jaw, inhaling your sweet perfume.

"Fuck Jake,," He and gives a final thrust that makes you finish right then and there, trembling with almost no sound coming out of your lips for a few seconds until he reached his high too, groaning against your neck. He keeps you there for a good minute before waking to the living room and into the bathroom to get both of you cleaned up, his stare now filled with love.

"And to think we used to hate each other until the last christmas party." He snickers at your words, having flashes of the first night he kissed you and moves towards your lips again.

"Used to, that's the important part." Both of you have lovesick eyes after a sweet little kiss, a big contrast from minutes before.

"I think our parents may be okay if we bribe them into a peace agreement."

"As the official heirs we can show the economic benefits!"

"They will definitely agree when it comes to making money." You nod and laugh, soon interrupted by your stomach making it known you're hungry.

"Should we order chicken and watch some movie?"

"Yes!" You agree quickly and reach to hold him once more after he drops the dirty clothes to the basket for washing later, so he takes you back to the living room and gets fresh hoodies from his closet, dressing you in one and himself with the other and spent the rest of the night like that, between cuddles and food.

[zhongliologist]

Surprises | Sub! Zhongli

Pairing: Zhongli x GN!Reader

Genre: SMUT SMUT SMUT!!!

Words: 1.4k

A/N: A short one for now (bc im lazy and i just wrote this on my phone skskks) but I just needed to get this out of my system bc all week all i thought about was naked apron zhongli and politics,,, not a good combination

Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

*

It was by the end of a long adventure when you decided to return home to Liyue—home to your ex-Archon husband who had been patiently waiting for you. 

The situation has always been like this, and perhaps someday it will change but you decided to cross that bridge when you get there. 

As for now, what's important was the fact that you were back at home, lugging around your heavy backpack as you open the door, yet only to be greeted by something you hadn't expected, not in a million years. 

"Z-Zhongli…? What—"

With eyes wide, your luggage fell to the floor along with your jaw. There in front of the kitchen counter was your beloved husband, still handsome and elegant though his attire has proven otherwise. Only covered by a flimsy plain-looking apron, you could see his whole package without much impediment.

"Oh, it seems you have returned, my love," he replied as if he wasn't naked except for an apron. 

You closed your eyes as you held on to the dining table for support. 

"Right, yes, yes I'm back," you replied, sighing. "But more importantly, could you please explain to me why you're wearing that?" 

Zhongli only raised his brows at you. 

"Oh this? Is it not to your liking, my love? Childe has informed me that this could improve our relationship."

Upon hearing the Snezhnayan troublemaker's name, you sighed again, this time much louder. 

"You really should stop taking advice from him, Zhongli." 

A long hum followed, his hands now on his chin as if thinking deeply—or as deeply as you could in a naked apron. 

"Then I suppose it is not to your liking then," he plainly replied and you groaned. 

It's not like you didn't like it—you really like the view of his buttcheeks for one—but this is just….it's just….

You pursed your lips. You're running out of reasons why this isn't good.

"That's not the point," you told him, walking towards his direction and placing a hand on his chest. "I...just—"

Looking up, you were met with amber orbs, gazing down on you and waiting patiently for you to continue. Yet there was no hope for your reply, you were utterly mesmerized by him at that moment—realizing that you had missed him so much and now he was right there in front of you. 

"YN?" Zhongli called your attention, concerned why you had stalled in the midst of your sentence. 

Biting your lip, you tried to hold off lustful thoughts before you could turn them into actions. But there was no escape. As he wrapped his solid arms around your waist and gently kissed your forehead, you knew you can't stop yourself from ravishing him. It has been too long afterall. 

Gazing into his eyes, you slowly inched yourself closer to him—face flushed as you bumped noses which made the both of you smile at each other. 

"You know what, I won't question the apron anymore." 

With those words, you captured his lips in a soft, gentle kiss as you poured all your love for Zhongli. You missed this, you missed his warmth and the gentle strength of his embrace. He must've felt the same way too, as you felt him grow stiffer underneath the apron. 

Gradually, the nips and bites became deeper, tongues exploring each other again after such a long time. It was quite obvious this wouldn't end with a simple make out session, and while you would rather have a shower first, you were far too horny to care. 

"Zhongli…" you whispered above his lips, exchanging pecks. "I want to take you here…" 

The man could only flush at your suggestion yet he nodded nonetheless. It has been a while since you were inside of him and the mere thought of it made his shaft twitch in anticipation. 

With one last long drawn kiss, you hurriedly went to the bedroom and got all the things you needed, including some lubricant. When you returned, your husband was already turned towards the counter, his ass bare and ready for what's to come. 

You grinned, spreading his asscheeks so you can take a good look of his hole. 

"Have you been playing with yourself while I was away?" You asked, lathering your hands good with lube as well as his hole. 

"I…mmn….y-yes…" Zhongli replied, bent against the counter with his ass on the air. It was such an erotic position, especially while you were teasing him, and it only fueled his arousal. 

You hummed, fingers grazing around the rim. "Tell me what you'd do." 

"Nghh….I would...t-touch myself…! A-aaahn! Y-YN…!" he struggled to reply, his words punctuated by moans while you inserted one digit.

"Oh? Touch yourself where, my love?" You continued, pumping in and out of him, preparing him for something much bigger. 

Zhongli was beginning to feel delirious. Your fingers thrusting inside his hole was already too much, but when you began teasing his hardened nipples, he couldn't help but loose all coherent thought. 

"Eughh….! Nnmm…! Y-YN….n-not so fast...I—!" 

"Not until you answer my question," you replied calmly though that was simply an act. You were just as aroused as him,watching as he arched his back, or when he makes such a debauched face everytime you hit a really good spot. 

"I-I…! Nnghh….rub...my cock...mmn!!" He groaned as you follow his words, hands pumping his now engorged length. 

"Like this?" 

With half-lidded eyes, he moaned in ecstasy as you stimulated both his cock and his hole. He had truly missed this sensation of almost passing out in pleasure. 

"Y-yes...yes!! F-fuck…love...nnghh!!" He whispered as if in a state of trance. "M-my...my hole...too…"

At this point, his words only served to arouse you more—wanting more than ever to fill him up. There was just something erotic with a submissive Zhongli that you jist can't help getting turned on with. 

"You...like it...in here, don't you?" You pushed three digits in roughly, making Zhongli arch his back against the counter as his dick leaked pre-cum. 

"O-oohhh….! Hhnghhh….! Y-YN…! P-please...please….I—" 

Grinning, you suddenly slapped his ass, making him tighten up around your fingers. You knew he was ready for you, and you couldn't take it anymore. He was just to sexy, too arousing, too erotic. You wanted to fuck him so badly right now. 

Without warning, you removed your fingers and began lathering your shaft with his juices alongside with a generous serving of lube. Pressing the tip against his now gaping hole, you were asking him permission one final time. 

"Please….Y-YN…! F-fill me up….!" 

With those words, you thrusted inside of him in an instant; knocking his breath away. Zhongli could feel you so deep inside him, making him so full and stretched. It felt so good he couldn't keep his eyes open. 

"Z-Zhongli…! Mmnhn….! I'll move now…." 

Thrusting sharply inside, he made a loud moan as you continued to pump in and out of him. You were rough but it felt so good and you were sure your husband was in the same boat as well, hearing him mutter your name repeatedly as if under a spell. 

"Y-YN….YN…! S-so big…nnghh….! F-feelsh...so….good...mmmnh…!!" 

"How...about this then…?"

You smirked and began playing with his nipple and his rather lonely cock. It will only be a matter of time before he cums as you felt his cock twitch everytime you hit his prostate. 

"F-fuck….nnmmn!!! Y-YN…! Nnghh!! I'm...I—" 

Pulling his ponytail, you bent over and kissed him on the lips; knowing full well that he was close to cumming. You were teetering at the edge as well, losing rhythm as you kept on thrusting inside his tight hole. 

"H-hey….mmn...let's cum together…" you whispered as you buried your face against his neck, as you buried yourself deep in him as well. 

"Y-YN….!! O-oohh….! I'm….! Aaaaghhh….aaaahhbn….! I-I….c-cumming….!"

In a few sharp thrusts, Zhongli released himself on the wooden counter as your hand continued to pump him—merciless until you followed him right after. 

Taking a few breathes, you slipped out of him as you supported his weight; worried he might fall to the floor. Gazing at each other, the both of you shared one simple kiss before continuing to embrace each other. 

"I...missed you…" you whispered to his ear, basking in the afterglow. 

"Me too….my love…" 

For a while, the two of you stayed like this until you broke the silence. 

"You know, why don't we skip breakfast and continue in the bedroom," you suggested as your husband grinned at you. "I'll let you top this time."

"Very well," he replied, and made a mental note to thank Childe with another pair of gilded chopsticks. 

[candy-and-writing]

For the birthday requests could I please have whichever of the following stirs your imagination. Stucky with prompt number 86. Sebastian Stan at a party with prompt number 11. Andy Barber (in court or at the office) with prompt number 20 or Lee Bodecker maybe after a hard work day with prompt number 39.

So I went just a tad dark on this 😅😅 oh well! I hope you enjoy!

Okay, so maybe Lee had a bad day at work

Like maybe he had to change shirts because he spilled the coffee you made for him all over his freshly pressed button-down, making him late to the station. Then the new rookie misplaced some evidence from a big case, so he had to push back important paperwork to deal with that. Then he got socked in the nose trying to break apart a brawl down at the diner, leaving him with a nasty bruise that hurt like a mother —

And now he had to bring home the paperwork he didn't get to finish. He already stayed late trying to finish that damn paperwork. 

Lee slammed the car door as he got out of the cruiser, cursing as he pulled the front door shut behind him, the slam resonating throughout the house. It was one of the nicer houses in Meade; more recently built and newer appliances with a nice backyard for kids.

Lee's been trying to knock you up since your wedding night, becoming more and more disappointed when you'd start bleeding the next month. It was just another reason he was so agitated. After all, it's been nearly four months since the wedding.

He heard your Mary Jane's clacking softly against the linoleum as you came into view. The thing about you is that when you're frowning, you don't frown. Ladies don't frown, your mother always told you. Instead, your eyes get wide with an innocent expression, like you're trying to keep an open mind on the situation. it's the look you have now, as Lee stepped further into the kitchen.

"You're home late," you'd say, maybe crossing your arms over your chest.

Lee let out an exasperated sigh, shrugging off his leather jacket. "Got stuck with some paperwork from the county jail, Johnson screwed up some evidence. Ya got dinner ready?"

You nodded. "There's a pot roast on the stove. I made potatoes, too."

Lee wasn't head-over-heels your attitude, your quiet voice and short responses. He supposed it was warranted, though, as much as he disliked it; when he called to tell you he'd be home late he didn't say it'd be dark by the time he got home.

He sat down at the kitchen table and opened the manila folder he had brought home from the station, sighing as he clicked his pen open. 

"Aye, darlin'!" he called out to you. "Mind grabbing me a beer?"

Your voice was quiet as it echoed through the kitchen. "We don't have any."

Lee nearly snapped the pen between his fingers.

"What didya say?" he asked, thinking he misheard you.

"I said we don't have any."

Lee stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the hardwood. He marched into the kitchen, yanking the refrigerator door open.

"I thought ya went to the store," Lee growled through gritted teeth.

"I—I guess I forgot," you answered, your voice timid. Lee slammed the refrigerator shut, making you jump.

"You forgot?" 

He was on you before you could blink, his hand tight around your throat as he pulled you close to him. Your small hands went to his wrist, trying to pull him off you. "I asked ya to do one thing: Get groceries. You get beer every week, yeah? What was so different about this week?"

"I—I don't know, I'm sorry—"

Lee squeezed your throat in warning, effectively shutting you up. "You know how hard I work to provide fer ya? To provide fer us? All I ask is you do as I say, why's that so hard, huh?"

"Please, Lee," you whimpered. "I—I'll go get you some beer, okay? I'll go and—" Lee tightened his grip around your throat, cutting you off.

"You think I'm gonna let you go out at this time a'night?" Lee snarled, his grip only getting tighter.

"Y—you're right, I—I'm sorry—"

"I am so sick of your voice. Why don't you shut up and put your mouth to better use?"

His words stung, but you knew better than to argue when he got like this. When Lee released your throat you sucked in a shaky breath, looking up at Lee with watery eyes.

"I won't tell ya again. Be a good girl now."

You got down on your knees, your hands trembling as you struggled to undo the zipper on Lee's trousers. You saw his hand move out of the corner of your eye and you flinched, a tear slipping past your lashes.

"I'm trying," you choked out. "It—it won't — I'm sorry, I'm trying —"

He gently batted your hand away, easily undoing his belt and fly, shuffling the trousers down his thighs. You let out a small sigh, looking up at him in thanks. Lee glared down at you, nodding to the hard-on that tented his underwear. You were quick to pull the undergarment away, his hard-on standing eagerly against his soft stomach. Your manicured hand wrapped around the base of his cock, the bulbous head red and throbbing. Your tongue darted out to lick your lower lip in anticipation and you looked up at Lee again. He only raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"You just gonna sit there?" Lee questioned.

You flinched at his tone, pressing a quick kiss to the base of his cock. As you pressed your tongue against his velvety flesh, you heard Lee let out a hiss. You dragged your tongue against the underside of his cock, whimpering when the Sheriff's fingers tangled themselves into your hair, ruining its styled appearance. You swirled your tongue around his head, feeling the muscle twitch against your tongue. His grip on your hair tightened.

"Quit yer teasin'," Lee growled.

You nodded softly, swallowing your nerves. You took him into your mouth, your jaw aching as your lips stretched to accommodate the girth of him. Lee let a shaky exhale as you took him further into your mouth, the tip of his cock grazing the back of your throat.

You should have known better, you though to yourself as you struggled to breathe through your nose. You didn't forget to buy the beer, you purposefully left it out of your shopping cart. You wanted Lee to quit drinking; you didn't think he'd get so upset over it. If the two of you were ever going to start a family, your children needed someone they could look up to as a father. He knew that better than anyone.

Lee pushed his cock deeper down your throat; your hands flew to his thighs and you dug your nails into his skin, gulping in panic. You retched, trying to pull away.

"Breathe through yer nose, darlin'," Lee husked. "Don't ferget to breathe."

You always forgot to breathe. You whimpered and nodded as best you could, focusing on inhaling and exhaling through your nose. 

You bobbed your head up and down his length, your rhythm keeping time with your erratic heart heat. Lee groaned and ran his fingers along your scalp, caressing you gingerly and you moaned as the sloppy sounds filled your ears. 

"Atta girl," Lee moaned. "Fuck."

You knew Lee was close when you felt him twitch against your tongue. He was guiding your movements, his hands gripping your hair tightly.

“Ah, fuck, baby,” Lee cursed, his fingers tightening on your hair. You groaned, the vibrations reverberating through his cock.

“Yer gonna swallow,” Lee growled, “take all that I give ya.”

Lee shuddered, gasping as he pushed himself down your throat, your nose brushing against his pelvis. Lee came down your thrust and you struggled to swallow all of his seed, coughing and sputtering around his cock.

He only pulled out when you were swatting at Lee’s thighs, struggling to breathe. You gasped, a shudder dancing down your spine as Lee smiled cynically down at you.

“We ain’t done yet, darlin’. Get yer ass up here.”

[spacedikut]

“would you please put your tongue away” ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: spencer can’t handle how good you look in your dress. he also can’t handle another guy asking you to dance. 2760 words

a/n: taken from this prompt list :)

“…It’s highly inappropriate.”

Someone waves a hand in front of Spencer’s face and he’s brought back to reality – surrounded by people from every FBI department in a far too bright room with champagne that is certainly not worth the amount it costs and in a suit that is a little too tight.

“What?” He asks.

“I said,” Derek grins, “Would you please put your tongue away.”

Spencer raises an eyebrow at that, “My tongue is firmly in my mouth, Morgan.”

Derek gives a scoff. He wishes Emily was with them to attest, but she’s across the room, beside you, stuck in a conversation with some “important” person that Hotch made a point to tell the team to suck up to.

“If Y/N can’t feel your stare burning a hole in her back, when she turns and sees you drooling she’s sure to know you’re obsessed with her.”

In panic, Spencer wipes his mouth just in case he is in fact drooling. That gets a hearty laugh from Derek, and Spencer huffs indignantly, “I am not obsessed-“

“When you saw her all dressed up earlier you had to leave the room, Reid. That isn’t a platonic reaction.”

“Well,” He stutters, glancing over to you and scanning your bare back, “She looks- she-“

“She took your breath away, man. It’s okay.” Derek gives him a pat on the back and smirks at him, coughing to cover a chuckle when Spencer glares at him.

“And who is this majestic being that took Doctor Reid’s breath away?” It’s you, Prentiss and JJ trailing behind, delicately holding a champagne flute in your left hand and a business card in your right.

Spencer flounders, taken off-guard by your approach and the close-up view of you in your dress. He doesn’t know much about fashion, let alone dresses, but God do you look like something straight out of a movie. To him, you’re the embodiment of all the love poems and romantic monologues that his mother used to read him. He always wondered what the beauty all those writers saw looked like, and if he’d ever see something so celestial, and then you walked into his life.

He’ll never recover. Especially when you keep reminding him how perfect you are.

“Someone’s been networking,” Derek nods to the business card, noticing Spencer’s struggle and swooping in to save him. Derek loves to tease Spencer, it’s his favourite thing to do, but there’s always a time and a place, you know?

You fiddle with the card, “A little pretentious, but he mentioned having some paperwork trouble and I offered to help. I thought if I got in his good graces he’d help us keep the jet.”

Just then, the band at the back of the charity event plays a slow tune, everyone coupling up to head to the dancefloor. Before you or Spencer can react, Derek is dragging Emily away and JJ goes to find Will, but not before all three of them send some kind of subtle gesture to Spencer – Derek winks, Emily raises her eyebrows and looks between you and Spence, and JJ nudges him as she passes.

Spencer’s entire body locks up. He can’t do this. Whatever this is.

When he doesn’t move, you offer him your hand, “Would you care to dance, Doctor Reid?”

His body eases and he can’t help but smile because you’re you, “It would be an honour, Miss Y/N,” He laughs, gently wrapping his fingers around yours.

You tug him onto the outskirts of the floor – being in the centre is both of your worst nightmares – and Spencer’s other hand falls to the small of your back, pulling you close. You’re chest to chest, your arm falling in place around his shoulders, but even with heels on he’s still got some height on you. You sway to the music in perfect sync, like you’ve done this a million times, and your eyes subconsciously close from the comfort of being in Spencer’s arms and the feel of him against you.

You concentrate on your feet for a few beats, too shy to look him in his clear, brown eyes. When you finally look up to meet his gaze, you can’t help the soft smile that appears. He’s already looking at you.

Spencer returns it, smile equally as fond.

The lights of the room reflect in his eyes – it’s as if they’re twinkling, like stars, and it’s utterly mesmerising. For a second, you forget you’re at a fundraiser event, on business, surrounded by your team and people from all departments and all positions. You feel like you’ve been whisked away to some faraway land, maybe somewhere that isn’t filled with killers and evil, and you and Spencer are lovers simply enjoying the night and eachother’s company.

“You look beautiful,” Spencer whispers, as if he doesn’t want anyone else to hear you. You wonder if he feels the same way you do.

“Thank you. I was waiting for you to compliment me.” You tease.

“Oh? Does my compliment mean that much?”

You giggle nervously. You love when he teases you back, when he has this confidence that always surprises you.

“More than I’d like to admit,” You say, “But I did also spend all day getting ready, so I want my hard work appreciated.”

“Well,” Spencer swallows, eyes flickering to your collarbones and neck and everywhere on you, “Consider your hard work appreciated. Not just by me, either. I think I’ve got a lot of glares being shot at me right now.”

You break eye contact to survey the room. There’s definitely a good number of people staring at you, but you refuse to believe they’re all jealous of him. He looks dashing in his suit, hand-picked by Rossi himself, and you know you’re not the only one to notice. You see the beauties dotted around that keep checking him out.

Another ballad begins so Spencer keeps you close. He scans the side of your face, how your nose peaks and the makeup you’re wearing illuminates all of your features. He’s hopeless at makeup, too, but the colour of your eyeshadow(?) suits you perfectly. You always look perfect, he realises. Being ethereal comes naturally to you.

“Excuse me,” A voice interrupts.

Both of you snap towards him. Travis.

Travis works in.. a department. A stupid one, probably. Spencer thinks Travis sucks.

“Hi, Trav,” You smile. You like Travis – of course you do. You’ve known him longer than you’ve known Spencer, so how does Spencer stand a chance?

“Evening, Y/N. Evening, Spencer.” He gives a polite smile.

Spencer returns it with his jaw set.

“Could I steal you for a dance, Y/N? Just like during our graduation ball?” His eyes are hopeful, and Spencer looks at in you confusion. What graduation ball?

You agree shyly, “Sure, Trav. Is that okay, Spence?”

He doesn’t know why you’re asking him – you both know Spencer’s too socially awkward to say no. So he nods, gives a tight lipped smile, and sharply turns to walk straight towards the bar. He doesn’t want to see Travis gently grasp your hand and pull you close, just like he had done.

But he’s not jealous.

“Water, please.” Spencer says to the bartender.

Someone slides up beside him. He glances at the shoes – Italian leather – and he knows it’s Rossi. He’s standing with a whiskey in his hand and a pitying gaze.

Spencer takes a big gulp from his glass of water like it’s a shot of straight vodka.

“You know he’s gonna make a move on her.” Rossi announces. Spencer takes another gulp.

“What?”

“I overheard him and his friends. They were in the academy together, and after seeing her tonight he’s decided now it’s time to make a move. Even stopped me to ask if she was single because he saw how close you two were out there.” Rossi shrugs as he takes a sip of his drink, gaze burning into Spencer as he does it.

Spencer knows what he’s doing. He’s trying to rile him up, get his feathers ruffled, for him to, what? Fight Travis on the dancefloor? Run up and steal you?

“I’m sure…” He starts, slowly, “If someone, say, Emily, who disappeared outside, had a sudden emergency… Y/N would drop Travis in a second.”

Spencer looks at him. Rossi raises his eyebrows.

“Excuse me.” Spencer says.

Rossi grins as he watches Spencer almost charge towards you.

There’s a hand on your shoulder and you know it’s Spencer, and when you turn he’s out of breath.

“Emily-“ He pants, “I think she’s- she’s sick. She’s outside and asking for you.”

“Oh, God,” You gasp, hands immediately leaving Travis completely to instinctively grasp Spencer by his arms, something you’ve always done.

Spencer’s heart warms at your concern – of course you’re so genuinely concerned for one of your best friends. Could you be anymore perfect?

“Let’s go, Spence.” You glance at Travis, feet already moving, “Sorry, Travis, it was lovely to dance with you!”

Travis watches you flutter away, knowing very well that that was his once chance and he lost it. It doesn’t take a genius to work out that Spencer is lying – at least a little.

Travis could tell Spencer wasn’t happy when he asked if he could dance with you. The unimpressed look in Spencer’s eyes whenever they made eye contact solidified that.

Travis can’t blame him, if he’s honest.

Outside, the cold is starting to set in, but you’re too panicked to notice or care. Your head darts left to right, searching for Emily. You spot her, in her stunning red dress, and go to call for her. But then she laughs, head thrown back, and takes another sip of her drink.

She’s fine.

You turn to Spencer, confused, “I thought she was sick?”

He looks sheepish and you laugh as he says, “I may have told a little lie.”

“Spencer!”

“Sorry.” He doesn’t look sorry.

“Well why-“

“Since we’re here, why don’t we go look at the fountain? I saw you eyeing it when we arrived.”

You want to ask why he interrupted you and Travis, but you’re not given the chance. Spencer’s large hand holds the tip of your fingers and he gently pulls you towards the stone fountain, where it stands with several tiers and the soothing sound of running water. There’s a statute in the centre – a woman wrapped in some kind of shawl.

“My guess,” You say, arms crossing, causing Spencer to take a sharp intake of breath, “Is the statue is based on the forlorn sculptor’s lover.”

Spencer’s body deflates as releases a deep breath. He thought you were onto him and why he ruined your dance.

“Actually,” His hands move to emphasise his point, “One of the most common purposes of sculpture is in some form of association with religion-“

“Why did you interrupt Travis and I?”

Uh oh.

“Did I look uncomfortable?” You wonder, “Because I can handle myself, Spence.”

You tried to resist asking again. But something about what he did bothers you – if you didn’t want to dance with Travis, you would’ve said no or made an excuse to not have to. If you didn’t want to be around Travis, you would’ve walked away from him. No matter what, you could’ve dealt with it yourself. Does Spencer disagree?

He licks his lips out of nervousness, shakes his head and mumbles a, “No, that’s not it.”

You turn to face him. His hands are in his pockets and he’s staring at the ground as he shuffles his feet. Rossi will have a fit when he sees the shoes he hand-picked have marks on them.

“I needed to get you alone. I’m sorry.” Spencer squirms. He can’t make eye contact.

“What?” You ask, brows furrowed, “Why? Is something wrong?”

“He was..” He trails off and clears his throat, “He was gonna ask you out. I couldn’t- didn’t want to let that happen.”

Your confusion increases. So he does think you can’t handle yourself?

There’s a spark of frustration in you, then. You’ve dealt with being underestimated and babied basically your whole life and Spencer knows that. He also knows you’re a trained FBI agent that has saved his skin more times than you care to count – he knows better than anyone that you can handle yourself.

So what the fuck.

“I appreciate the concern,”

Spencer winces at your tone. This is… not going well. Not going how Spencer wanted it to, or planned. Not that he had a plan beyond getting you and Travis as far away from one another as possible.

“But I can guarantee I do not need you to loom over me and scare boys away, Spencer. You’re not my father.”

Your tone is biting and Spencer moves closer to placate you.

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N, I’m sorry that’s- I know you can handle yourself. Very well. I still have the scar from when you thought I was a robber in your house-“

“You shouldn’t have tried to sneak up on me, Spencer Reid-“

“Rossi overheard Travis saying he was gonna make a move on you and it was like I went on auto-pilot and I could hear the blood pumping in my ears and-“

“I can take care of myself, Spence.”

“I couldn’t let it happen because I want to date you.”

He looks at you then, gaze so intense you feel frozen where you stand. He continues.

“But I’m sorry if you were planning to say yes to Travis and I… came in and ruined it. Maybe you’re into him and I just… delayed the inevitable for no reason other than to humiliate myself.” He gives a tight lipped smile, rolling onto the tips of his feet and then back on the heel.

You let out a breathy laugh in disbelief. “I wasn’t going to say yes to Travis, Spence. It’d be pretty damn rude for me to date him when I very much like and want to date you.”

His eyebrows shoot up and he gives a toothy, hesitant smile, “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” You step closer. Spencer can’t take his eyes off you, not that he’s been able to at any point tonight, but now you can tell he can’t help but ogle at you.

It makes you feel fuzzy inside, that mix of excitement and nerves that you always get around Spencer.

“Well, what should we do about that?” He teases, but some anxiety shines through. He’s genuinely asking.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you?” You ask.

He sputters, “Uh- yes. That would be completely okay.”

“Well then,” You smile, “Come here.”

As if you’ve done it a million times, Spencer’s hands cup your face as he tugs you towards his lips. Your hands find his waist, softly gripping him as your eyes flutter shut and you feel Spencer’s lips for the first time.

Why does it feel so natural? So right?

Spencer has to pull back a couple of seconds later because he’s smiling so wide. You can’t resist and kiss his nose, and he giggles. He giggles.

God, you’re so in love with him.

Spencer glances at the statue standing at the top of the fountain.

“You think she’s angry that we’re kissing in front of her?”

You hum in consideration, “Definitely jealous. I mean, not everyone gets to kiss the most handsome guy at the ball.”

He can’t help but blush, and although you have a teasing tone you both know you genuinely mean it.

From where you’re standing you can still slightly hear the sound of the band inside – some kind of smooth jazz is being played now, nice and slow.

You turn and offer your hand to Spencer, just like before, “Another dance, kind sir?”

Spencer gives you a cheeky smile, “As long as you promise no Travis-like interruptions this time.”

He pulls you close, definitely closer than before as your lips nearly touch and you can feel his breath, and you rub the tip of your nose against his. “No Travis, no one, just us.”

“And the voyeur statue,” He gestures with his head towards the fountain.

You both look, and your hand leaves his shoulder to flip her off.

“Back off, hag.” You joke, and Spencer laughs at your absurdity.

Then you dance, for the second time, to the music that flows out from inside. Under the moonlight, with the twinkling stars, Spencer is convinced this is the closest to Heaven on Earth. With you, in his arms, dopey grins and loving stares.

God, he’s so in love with you.

[goblinkingdomsblog]

Bts as mafia series ask

What will they do after kidnapping agent yn who is not willing to give info

What will they do after kidnapping agent y/n who is not willing to give information

Members: all BTS.

Genre: mafia!AU, reaction.

Premise: you are a police agent who was captured by one of the most influential members of the criminal organization you have been investigating for weeks. He's trying to get information out of you through interrogation, but you're not going to give in, no matter what. So he needs to think of a new plan.

TW: a little bit of (V) = Violence, but more of (S) = Safe for reading and (Sg) = Suggestive.

Mafia Series Masterlist

Mafia Series Plot

I don't know if this is exactly how you imagined your request, but I hope you enjoy it. ;)

"Precious information is always worth it."

Namjoon:

You were tied to the chair for a long time, until he came and released you. You immediately thought about the easiest escape route, but the abandoned, damp pavilion in which you were, behind huge boilers, seemed to have no end.

He smiled calmly, standing a few feet in front of you with his arms crossed.

- Agent Y/N. What an honor. - his voice was sympathetic, lulled by a hoarse and low tone - I've been looking for you for a long time. I heard you're trying to get me in trouble.

You laughed bitterly, spitting on the floor to get rid of the taste of the gag that had been in your mouth just minutes before.

- I feel really sorry that I didn't cause more problems, then.

Surprisingly, he laughed back, as if he were in the presence of a rebellious child who he needed to educate.

- You didn't answer the questions my subordinates asked you, did you?

- I will never reveal anything. You can send those dumbasses back and make them punch me more. - you touched your aching jaw with your free hands, without looking away from the one who you knew were the leader of the Organization - I can deal with them easily.

With his arms crossed, he rubbed his expensive shiny shoe on the floor, lifting his index finger.

- Oh, no, no. That was my mistake, caused by a wrong choice of members. Let's say they are not exactly the smartest members of our... company. I'm sorry about that. - he laughed quietly, adjusting his glasses over his nose with the casualness of someone who was shopping at the supermarket.

- So what are you going to do, you bastard? - you grunted, trying to distract him just to have time to think of a good way to get out of there.

He laughed again, a short, somewhat dangerous laugh.

- Courageous. - he murmured, with a sharp gleam in his dark eyes. He stared at you for a long moment before proceeding - Well, violence is almost never the best option. It is always better to treat the guests with whom you want to have a conversation with calm and courtesy. And, of course, without haste.

Feeling a cold shiver down your spine, you stayed still.

- I have all the time in the world, my dear. I can wait until you're ready to start. - with a singing smile that exposed two deep dimples, which now seemed sharply malignant, he turned to the darkness - Ah, and don't even think about running away. If this place already seems big to you, know that it is bigger than you think. And there are some rather interesting obstacles around here.

With one last look over his shoulder, the faint moonlight that came in through the windows reflecting off the lenses of his glasses and preventing you from seeing his eyes, he clicked his tongue.

- But, if you insist on trying to escape... - he pronounced, as if he considered the whole situation a great pleasure, and not a threat - I wish you good luck.

Seokjin:

You were in a small house, surrounded by at least 4 tables full of electronic equipment, computer parts, baubles and dust.

The man seated in front of you, with his chin in one hand, kept his eyebrows raised. By moving your hands tied behind your back, you tried to free yourself from the wheelchair in which you were trapped.

- Stay still. - he murmured, harshly. His expression was divided between apprehension and irritation.

- I am still. It is kind of difficult to make any movement while you are tied to a chair.

Without paying any attention to you, he rolled his eyes.

- I don't know why they thought of me as the right person to fulfill this mission. As if I had nothing more important to do. - his face, beautiful as a carved brilliant, was extremely expressive - And now, to make things worse, you still don't want to collaborate with the interrogation!

You smirked, shaking your head in the middle of the room with brown walls and orange lamps.

- I'm sorry for being a stone in your path. I bet if you let me go, you would be relieved. - your tone was acidic.

Bitting his lower lip, he snapped his fingers. With an impulse from the floor, he slid the wheelchair in which he was sitting to one of the tables, turning on one of the computers.

- Actually, I have a better idea. - he said, his plump lips curving into a smile as his fingers typed quickly, as if he were thinking of a joke that only he understood.

After a few quiet seconds, in which the only noises in the house came from the computer, he turned towards you and rotated the computer screen to your direction, so that you could view it entirely.

- I think you will be the one relieved when you collaborate with my questions. - he murmured, pointing the image on the monitor: the security cameras on the street in front of your family's house, recording everything in real time. It was even possible to spot your mother through the window - It's not that hard to find out certain things on social media, you know? I would recommend you to be more careful from now on.

Your smile died on your face, replaced by an expression of fear.

Yoongi:

The stone basement under the busy bar was a much darker place than it had seemed at first. The endless noise of parties was able to hide the most diverse noises.

The man standing at the door, talking to two others who remained in the shade, seemed completely calm. Which was the total opposite of how you felt.

Trying to shake your body to get rid of the rope wrapped around your entire torso, you groaned. You knew that dozens of bruises would form on your arms because of the effort, but you couldn't stop trying.

Dismissing the two henchmen, the man near the door turned in your direction. Approaching with his hands in his pockets, he stopped a few inches away, bending to reach the height where you were trapped.

- As you didn't want to answer when I asked patiently, I decided to change my approach. - with a slow, almost lazy, gummy smile, he took his hands out of his pockets, revealing a pile of pills.

Knowing what "industry" he was in, you were sure those pills were drugs. Although you were afraid of what might happen, you would never let it show.

- What are you going to do? Forcing me to swallow and kill myself from an overdose? - you almost spat, bending forward in an attempt to hit him with your head.

He laughed, and his laugh was a little choked. He smelled of cigarettes, both in his baggy clothes and on his breath.

- Don't be so hasty. I already said that I am very patient, so I would never force you to take one of them. - he shook the pills in his closed fist, letting them make a noise - I'll let you choose one of them.

Grunting, you turned your head.

- The choice is entirely yours. You may take a sweetie pill, which just makes you more relaxed to answer my questions... - his expression went from amusement to a somber seriousness, while he averted his eyes downwards - or you may take a poisoned one that will kill you. Sadly you don't have the option of not taking any pill.

Smiling again, exposing his gums in a way that made his expression frighteningly youthful, he shrugged.

- I hope you have a good eye for analyzing pills. Or at least a good tolerance.

Hoseok:

He was smiling in your direction for good 3 minutes now. Sitting upright, his knees 5 centimeters away from yours (that were tied to each other), he looked like an experienced dealer wanting to convince you to buy something.

You were already so tired that you felt almost ready to "buy it".

- If you tell me some very simple details of the investigation, I promise you will be released without any injuries. - his face was soft and friendly, and he spoke with such conviction that it was easy to accept.

You were sweaty due to the fact that you had been struggling in that chair for hours on end, trying to break free. That damn apartment seemed to be in the end of the world, because no one on the floors above or below made a sound.

It was time to try something different, to put pride aside. You had full faith in your ability to act.

- Do you... really promise? - you asked, in a weak voice and with an innocent expression, which made apparent the tiredness you were feeling (on purpose, of course).

He broke into a big smile, crowned by his shiny, aligned teeth. He looked cheerful as a child who had just won a candy.

- Of course, my dear. - he replied, lightly touching your hand tied on the arm of the chair. His fingers were warm and soft.

You smiled back "timidly". You would lie masterfully, until you convinced that man to let you go. You knew you were able to do that, because it was a necessity.

- Then... I will collaborate.

Caressing your hand briefly, just before letting go and looking you in the eye, his smile lessened a little.

- Just know that liars are not treated so politely. - he murmured, in a practically humming way - And I always know when someone is trying to deceive me, my sweet. Always.

Suddenly, the touch of his fingers no longer seemed as gentle as before.

Jimin:

The man's eyes seemed to burn in his face, just as the hate burned inside you. He was lying beside a round table, stripped, staring at you through half-closed lids.

- This is kind of kinky, don't you agree? - he asked, breaking the silence, his legs spread in a careless pose as he watched you.

You wanted to scream. You pulled your arms out, listening to the clink of the metal rings and then feeling the physical immobility. Being chained to a cement wall by your wrists and ankles, standing for hours, was far from any pleasurable idea. That was a fucking torment.

- Fuck you, you crazy bastard! - you grunted, your voice hoarse in your scratched throat - If I ever have the opportunity, I swear I'll kill you!

He didn't smile, but something in the curve of his eyes exposed the fact that he was enjoying the scene. In a leap, he rose from his chair, an evil idea igniting in his mind.

- What if that opportunity reveals itself now? Could you kill me? - he purred, approaching cautiously. You didn't know if he was teasing or threatening you, as his body movements were unreadable.

- Chained here? How fair is this clash? It is obvious that you will win. - you spoke through, your head hanging forward. You were an accomplished fighter in the police, but no one with their arms and legs trapped would be able to win a hand-to-hand fight.

- Of course I'm going unchain you. I'll even give you some time to warm up. I like fairness in this type of game. - the way he spoke, with pleasure, showed an insatiable desire for combat. You wanted to punch him.

- How can I be sure that you will not cheat? You are a fucking mafious.

This time, he laughed sharply, putting his hands on his stomach.

- I promise you that our fight will be fair, based only on the skills of each one. Especially because, if I win, my only prize will be to chain you back on this wall right here. - he got close enough to hold the sides of your waist with his hands, more firmly than expected. You forced yourself not to shudder - And while I really appreciate the sight, it is nothing that I haven't already seen.

You thought about attacking him right there, but it was better to wait a little more. Using his hands on your waist as a support, he started to unchain you.

Taehyung:

The boy was standing, his back against one of the only walls of the ruined building. The empty terrain you were on was extensive and the wind was blowing strong, turning all that vastness into a damn desert of grassy ice.

You were standing a few feet away, with nothing to hinder your movements. Still, you couldn't move, as you knew he had confiscated your loaded gun and was now keeping it in his pants pocket, ready in case any attempt was made to escape. You didn't want the same thing that happened to your two coworkers, now two bodies lying on the ground in the woods, to happen to you.

- Will you tell or not? - the man asked, boredom evident on his face. His voice was low, peaceful as a lullaby.

- I won't. - you said, shivering from the wind and nervousness. Nothing mattered now, not even your life: you had vowed to keep the investigation a secret, and that's what you would do. You would die with honor, just like the others.

Arching one of his thick eyebrows, he remained still. His mouth went up in one corner, in a angled smile.

- Ah, too bad.

- Shoot fast, can you? - you shouted back, extremely tired of it. You wanted it to end fast.

- I will not shoot you. You are useful, unlike your unintelligent colleagues who tried to attack me.

You clenched your teeth, the sound of the wind almost deafening your ears.

- What are you going to do then?

Wiping the hair off his forehead, which insisted on sliding in all directions, he waved a hand, turning the loaded revolver in one finger.

- Ah, I decided to let your teammates answer the call that the... deceased agents sent on the radio. They will get here behind this wall, as it is the easiest way to access the terrain. - observing the barrel of the gun and then opening the magazine to see how much ammunition was inside, he continued: - It is always good to practice my shooting from a long distance, just to not lose the practice.

Wide-eyed, the scenario in which your colleagues were killed one by one by shots from a hidden sniper crossed your mind. It was terrible.

- But, if you like your colleagues very much and decide that your willingness to offer information is greater than my intention to play target shooting, it may be that things happen in a much easier way. - he stated.

Jungkook:

He almost never looked up from the ground, and when he did, his eyes kept hidden under the brim of his hat. Not that it was easy to spot anything inside a dark and metallic bunker, in which you could barely move because you were handcuffed to the table fixed on the floor.

After hesitating for a long time, the man with tattoos on his fingers sitting in front of you finally spoke:

- You have to answer. I am here just following orders, and you are delaying my other appointments. - if there was something behind which he could hide, he would probably do it. But not out of fear... it was for another reason.

- I already said I won't tell you anything. You can kill me already, dumb child. - you almost roared, the rage accumulated in hours of silence revolting inside you.

Yes, even though he was partially hidden by the shadows, the fact that he was young was evident. More a shy boy than a silent man.

His eyes widening in shock, he stepped back a few inches. With an increasingly wheezing breath, he got up and walked to a door in the corner of the bunker.

- You're making things more difficult for both of us. - he said, with a dangerous tone.

Opening the hidden door with a single movement of his drawing-covered hand, he revealed a gagged figure, struggling and muttering in a useless way: your partner in the police and best friend, Denyel.

You gasped with fright when his figure became visible, his body covered in sweat. With a sudden tug, the tattooed man dragged your friend over to the chair where he himself had been sitting before, forcing him to settle down.

- With each denied answer, a little bit of his life is gone. - the boy's voice was now expressionless, and his hands moved quickly as he took dozens of knives from the belt under his coat and placed them on the table, with a clang - I can make it drag on for hours, believe me. I know exactly how much "life" to remove until there is no more of it left.

That's it for now! Did you like it? Tell me your opinion and your suggestions, my dear reader.

If you want to request anything, send me your ideas!

The images used on this post are not mine. Credits to the owners.

Kisses from the Goblin Kingdom! :)

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Tangled Up in You

winter prompts day 2  ❄️ huddling for warmth

There are certain things Jaskier is starting to believe his brain willingly forgets (for his own good) as soon as the experience is over. These include, but are not limited to: drinking too much, rough sex the night before a long day of walking, and sleeping with the butcher's husband.

Wintering at Kaer Morhen is one of those things.

It's not that he's ungrateful, because he's been thrilled every year since the first that Geralt has approached him with the offer. And Jaskier is happy to join him, happy to make the trip even through snow and rain and whatever else late autumn has to offer.

And it's not that he doesn't like spending the winters with Geralt and his family, because he does. It's just that he's always given his own room - which is fine, everyone needs their own space, especially for months on end - but it's just so big. Or, rather, the bed is so big and empty with only him in it.

Over the warmer months, he grows used to sleeping in a bedroll next to the fire or, when they find paid lodgings, quite frequently sharing a too-small bed with Geralt. It had seemed like an inconvenience at first, but they've found a way to fit together that makes it easier for Jaskier to sleep with Geralt than alone. And here he has so much room. Too much room; he and Geralt could both fit comfortably without getting in each other's way. Even his bed back in Oxenfurt is smaller than this.

Jaskier shivers as cold air slips under the covers from gods know where. He'd thought he'd tucked in all the loose edges last time, but apparently, he missed a spot. He readjusts, tucking his feet back in and wiggling just a little to ensure he's blocked all the gaps. But it doesn't help.

After another half hour of sleeplessness, he climbs out of bed with his blanket still wrapped around his shoulders and slips out of his room and down the hall. He knows he'd be more than welcome to crawl into bed with anyone, but he hasn't had much time to spend alone with Geralt since they arrived, so he heads for his room.

Outside the door, he hesitates for a moment before knocking. It's pointless because Geralt probably heard him coming, but it just feels polite. There's no response, so he pushes the door open a little bit and he's about to call out to him when there's a grumble from across the room.

"Lambert if that's you, fuck off and go sleep with Eskel I don't want your stupid cold feet on me."

"Um," Jaskier says in a very small voice, "not Lambert. Still cold, though."

"Jaskier?" Geralt asks and Jaskier can hear the rustling of the blankets as he turns over. Jaskier bites his lip to keep his teeth from chattering and curls his toes. He doesn't want to be turned away due to cold feet. He doesn't say anything else, but after a moment there's another sleepy groan and a soft, c'mere. So he does.

He slips up to Geralt's bed, but when he lifts the blankets to climb in, he freezes. Geralt is entirely naked and Jaskier has to fight against the wave of heat that rolls up his neck. On second thought, freezing to death wouldn't be the worst way to go. Or maybe he'll go see Eskel - he had offered, after all. He's already backing away when Geralt climbs out of bed and comes after him.

The noise that comes out of his mouth when Geralt catches him is something like a seabird and he would be embarrassed about it if he didn't have more important things to worry about. Like being carried to bed by a very sleepy, very naked Geralt.

He knows better than to struggle against Geralt, but then he's being plopped onto the bed and Geralt crawls over him. He's barely settled before he wraps an arm around Jaskier's waist and tugs him down with him. Reluctantly, Jaskier adjusts to make himself comfortable, but it presses him right up against Geralt's bare chest. Which is, to be fair, quite lovely and very warm.

But Jaskier is suffering because he's lying in bed with a big, naked Witcher wrapped around him and while the premise may be the subject of many a daydream, he'd pictured it rather differently. The worst part is that the warmest part of him is where his shirt is rucked up and Geralt's bare skin presses against his own.

With as much subtlety as he can manage, Jaskier shifts, pushing the shirt up further. There's a grumble from the back of his neck and then one warm hand settles on his hip, sliding under the hem of his shirt and slipping around to his chest. Jaskier's heart stops as his mind speeds through every possible reason for Geralt to touch him like this and before he can settle on any of them, Geralt is lifting his shirt and tugging it up over his head. Jaskier instinctively goes with it, like a child being changed out of dirty clothes.

Stunned and confused and more than a little aroused, Jaskier turns to ask what the fuck is going on, but when he shifts, he finds Geralt with his eyes shut, the softest little smile gracing his lips.

"Rest," he breathes and when Jaskier tries to settle, he finds it much easier than expected, the warm weight of Geralt's arm around him comforting.

He's not sure what to do with his own arms, so he squirms for a few minutes, trying to find somewhere comfortable to put them. They've shared beds before more times than he can count (more often than not, even) but they've never slept face-to-face like this. And given the opportunity, Jaskier is not about to take it for granted.

Tentatively, he slides an arm around Geralt's side, slotting it just beneath Geralt's arm and finds it rather comfortable. And more than that, Geralt presses into the touch, apparently pleased with it. Jaskier has only just closed his eyes after finally finding a good way to lie when Geralt speaks again.

"How many years have you been coming here with me?" he asks and Jaskier quickly runs through the past winters, trying to remember.

"I don't even know. Many?"

"Why do you never sleep with me?" If his nose wasn't pressed into Geralt's chest, Jaskier's jaw would probably drop. What does that even mean?

"We share at the inns all the time," Jaskier mumbles, "I thought you might want your space."

"Mm," Geralt hums, "but I like to share with you."

Oh. Oh. "Okay." Geralt tugs him a little closer, and one of his knees comes forward to press between Jaskier's thighs. "In that case," Jaskier whispers, "maybe I should move all my stuff in here? You wouldn't want me freezing to death over the winter now, would you?"

"Couldn't have that," Geralt agrees and Jaskier can feel the warmth of his breath in his hair, followed by what he would swear is the softest of kisses. "Couldn't have that."

[natashxromanovf]

I want to see you smile

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff × fem!Stark! reader

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: swearing (I think that’s it? If not, please let me know)

Type: fluff, friends to lovers

Summary: What happens when one friend falls in love with another? Are feelings mutual?

A/N: If you haven’t already noticed, I’m in love with friends to lovers trope. So yes, that’s what I’m writing. Again. In this fic, Thanos doesn’t exsist and everyone is alive. Just for clarification, Jenna is supossed to be Morgan’s babysitter. Also am I passing my obsession with Soy Luna to Morgan here? Yes, I am. This song is just so beautiful, yet sad at the same time. I don’t really like this, but oh weel, not everything can be amazing. Enjoy <3

Here's the link to the song

“And don’t forget to turn in your essays tomorrow!” yells the teacher, right before the bell rings, dismissing you from your last class. You pick up your backpack and look at Peter, who just stood up from his chair. “Are we hanging out today?” you ask. “Yes, we have to go to the compound, remember? Everyone will be there, there’s some important meeting, even we have to attend,” he explains. “But Steve said it’s not going to be long, so we can hang out after,” he says and you nod. Peter and you were best friends, ever since junior year of high school. The first time your dad introduced him to you (not knowing you two already know each other), was hilarious.

“Y/N, come in here honey!” yelled Tony from the common area. You were doing your homework, minding your business when you heard your dad calling you. “Coming dad!” you answered back. Once you got to the dining area, your father immediately started to speak “I want you to meet someone.” he said, gesturing to the boy beside him. As your head turns, you recognize this boy as none other than Peter Parker. “Peter?!” 

“Y/N?!” you both scream at the same time. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your eyes wide, surprise lacing your voice. “What am I doing here? The better question is what are you doing here?” he squeaked, his expression matching yours. “Woah, Woah, Woah, you two know each other?” Tony asked, just as confused as you were. “Yes we know each other, he’s basically my best friend,” you explained, Tony’s jaw dropping to the ground. “So that’s why you never let me come to your house,” chuckled Peter, finally putting all the pieces together. “Yea, that’s why.” you gently smiled. “Let’s introduce again, shall we? Hello, I’m Y/N, Y/N Stark.” you introduced yourself, making Peter laugh slightly. “Hey Y/N, I’m Peter Parker, also known as Spider-man.” now it was your turn to be surprised. “You’re Spider-man?!?” you asked. “And you’re a Stark! We’re even.” 

“I guess we are.”

Once you got to the compound, everyone was already there, even Morgan, to your surprise. “Mom, what’s Morgan doing here?” you question. “Wait a second, mom what are you doing here??” you now almost scream. “Didn’t Dad tell you?” she says and you shook your head no. “Oh, well, I told him to tell you, but what can you expect from Tony Stark?” she sighs. “Last mission went wrong and now a HYDRA base knows the addresses of all the Avengers, including ours, that’s why I’m here. And about Morgan... well we couldn’t reach Jenna, so we took her with us.” she frowns. “Oh, okay-” you were cut off, by none other than the famous Captain America. “Okay, so, I know you’re probably asking yourself ´What the hell are we doing here on our free day?´ but I have a good explanation for it. It has come to our attention that while we were on our last mission, fighting off HYDRA agents, some of them snuck into our jet and stole some information, including our home addresses. Now, since more than half of us lives here, or is from another planet,” he says, gesturing to Thor, “it’s not so serious, except for Tony, Pepper, Y/N, Peter, and Bruce. Your addresses have been compromised, so I would suggest for you to stay here for a couple of weeks, just to be safe.” he ends his long explanation, and all of you agree to stay here. “Wow, I need to call Aunt May,” says Peter, and you nod, gesturing for him to go. After you shoo Peter away, to go and talk to May, Pietro appears behind you, his usual smirk printed on his lips “Hey, printsessa.” he greets and you wave. “Hello Pietro, how are you?” you smile, his presence always making you happy, no matter how hard the day was. “I’m good, you?" he questions. “I’m okay, it just sucks a little, all this not-going-home thing. But at least I get the time to hang out with my favorite speedster.” you chuckle, Pietro joining. You make small talk, just usual things. Somehow you end on the couch and the next time you look at the clock, it’s already time for dinner. Today is Wanda’s turn to cook, and to say you are starving is an understatement. You couldn’t wait for her famous paprikash.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been a couple of days since the meeting and you and Peter just came back from school, to a very unusual scene. Before you, there are all the Avengers, looking at something on the big screen. You and Peter look at each other confused, as to what could leave them in such a state. As you get closer, you see what they’re all so interested in. It’s a show called Soy Luna and you burst out laughing, now all the attention focusing on you. “Y-you’re watch-watching Soy Lu-Luna?” you say through giggles, making some of them blush. “Well, as a matter of fact, it really sucks you in.” defends Natasha, receiving hums of agreement. “Sure, whatever you say.”

“On which episode are you?” Peter asks. “I think it’s season 3, episode 25,” answers Wanda. “Oh my god, I love this episode, scoot over,” you say to Bucky, gesturing for him to move. He moves a little to the right, making space between him and Wanda. You sit in the middle while Peter sits on the ground, besides Steve. “Morgan wanted to watch it, right?” you ask, a smirk still playing on your lips. “Yea.” Wanda sighs defeated, and your smile widens, just a little. Right as you were about to turn your attention to the screen, Morgan appears in front of your eyes. “Hey bubba, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be watching the series?” you question, your brows furrowed. “Yea, I just wanted to be with you!” she exclaims and turns around, sitting into your lap. “Awwww,” you whisper, overwhelmed with her cuteness. 10 minutes in, Morgan screams that your favorite song is coming. “Look Y/N, Matteo is about to perform your favorite song!”

“You’re right Morgan,” you say, trying to calm her down from her excited state. “Will you sing it? Pleaseee,” she demands, looking at you with puppy eyes. Oh, damn it, not her puppy eyes, you think, agreeing, because c’mon, who can say no to those pretty eyes of hers. “But only because you asked nicely,” you add, making Morgan smile. Soon enough, the first tunes of Quiero verte sonreir start to play. She looks at you expectantly, as do all the others. Right before you start singing you make eye contact with Pietro. 

“No lo puedo evitar,

yo no te dejo de pensar,

y las noches son frías si tú no estás.

No lo puedo entender,

como no te has dado cuenta...”

(I can’t help it, I can’t stop thinking about you, and the nights are cold, if you’re not here. I don’t understand, how you haven’t noticed...)

There’s something in his eyes, that makes you not look away, not wanting to look away. Finally, your stare breaks, as Morgan bumps you, wanting some attention. “...Pero tengo miedo de pensar,

que no te vayas enamorar...”

(...But I'm afraid to think, that you’re not going to fall in love...)

You bump her nose, making your heart feel loved, because you made your little sister happy, even if just for two minutes.

Your eyes are back on Pietro, decided to dedicate the chorus to him, even if he doesn’t understand you.

“... Quiero verte sonreír,

quiero verte junto a mí,

no puedo ya no quiero,

no es fácil ocultar mis miedos...”

(I want to see you smile, I want to see you next to me, I can’t take it anymore, I don’t want to, it's not easy to hide my fears...) 

But you forgot there’s someone else in the room, who speaks Spanish fluently. As the song comes to an end, you know what’s coming, so right when you finish with your singing, you quickly scream: “Someone cover Morgan’s eyes, she’s too innocent to see what’s coming.” as a joke, not expecting for Bucky to actually cover her eyes. “Oi, Barnes, I was kidding!” you say while laughing your ass off. You spend the rest of your afternoon with your team, binge-watching Soy Luna, completely falling into trance. The duty of cooking dinner falls on you and Peter, others still not turning their eyes away from the screen. You decided to cook Mac and cheese, the only thing you both actually know how to cook. “How long have you been into Pietro?” he suddenly asks, making you choke on your water. “Wh- what?” you struggle while coughing, Peter tapping you on your back, helping you to regain your breath again. “C’mon, you don’t have to pretend with me.” he smiles, reminding you just how of an awesome friend he is. “Is it that obvious?” you ask, looking at him like you just swallowed a spider. “No, but I notice these things, the way you look at him, the way your lips always form a smile, the second you lay eyes on him, the way you speak to him like you’re gonna melt any second. Besides, I speak Spanish, so that right there,” he gestures to the living room, “tells me enough.” he finishes with a light chuckle. “Shit, I forgot you understand Spanish,” you exclaim, joining him. “Soo, you like me?” you hear someone say, his thick accent lacing his voice, knowing who he was. “Fuck,” you whisper under your breath, slowly turning around. “How much have you heard?” you carefully ask, scrunching your nose and closing your eyes. “Enough,” he says, that adorably annoying smirk playing on his lips. “I’m gonna just slowly go, because, well, this is awkward.” Peter quickly exits the kitchen, making you angry at him for leaving. “Is it true?” you hear him say, and you focus your attention back on him. Oh, fuck it, you think before speaking “Yes, it is. But I know you don’t feel the same, so can we just pretend this didn’t happen, because I don’t want to make things akw-” he crashes his lips onto yours, guiding them into a sweet yet passionate kiss. His hands are on your waist, yours travelling up his body till you reach his hair, slowly playing with his blond curls. Cheers erupt from the door, making you look at them. And there they are, the whole team clapping and cheering, a “Finally! I couldn’t take the tension anymore!” escaping Wanda, making you chuckle. “I hate all of you, I swear to god,” you say, looking away from them and into those beautiful ocean eyes of his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @voidmalfoy @cunningambitousdetermined @crazy-beautiful @rorybutnotgilmore

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[e-milieeee]

the enemy of my enemy (must be my ally)

Summary: When one of his akumas attacks Adrien and one of his classmates, Gabriel Agreste discovers that Marinette Dupain-Cheng would prove a very useful ally against Ladybug and Chat Noir. 

How had he not discovered sooner? But oh well—better late than never. Ladybug will never know what’s coming. 

Notes: from this post because everyone wanted me to write it. i warned y’all. feat. gabriel’s 2 functional brain cells. 

AO3 | Kofi

Gabriel Agreste isn’t past admitting his mistakes.

Most of them have involved Adrien, so he supposes that it’s time to pay attention to the trend. And all of those mistakes have involved his growing career as Hawkmoth—and, more specifically, the choices he makes for whom he akumatizes.

Lila Rossi, now known as Princess Perfect—seriously, what the hell was wrong with this girl? He’d given her the liberty of choosing her akuma name, but such a godawful name is a bad reflection on him as well—kicks down the door of the classroom.

He sees it all through Lila’s eyes, like he does with all the akumas. Doesn’t mean he’s particularly happy about the turnout of this particular akumatization.

“What are you doing?” Gabriel demands to her. “I want Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous! You’re going the wrong way.”

Relax. Lila’s voice drifts into his head. I need to take a little detour.

“What detour—” Oh. Oh, shit.

In the classroom, packing their bags, is his son and that Chinese girl with pigtails—Marinette. The one that Gabriel knows Lila Rossi intensely hates. The one that he doesn’t like either, because for some reason, his son is infatuated with her. It’s Marinette-this, Marinette-that these days, and Adrien just won’t stop gushing about her. Father, look at these designs! They’re Marinette’s. Father, look who’s on the news—it’s Marinette! Father, can you hire Marinette to work at Gabriel Brand?

Marinette, a real headache. Gabriel rubs his temples. Maybe it’s a good thing that Lila’s after her. Better to nip it in the bud before Adrien’s attachment becomes a real problem.

“Fine,” he grounds out to Lila. “But leave Ad—leave the blonde boy alone.”

Already ahead of you, Hawkie.

“Don’t call me that!”

She ignores him in favour of turning to the two victims. Adrien is standing in front of Marinette, arms spread in a protective stance, glaring at the akuma. For a couple moments, nobody speaks.

Then, Marinette, eyebrows furrowing, says, “You’re Lila, aren’t you. Seriously? What is this—your third akumatization? Fourth?”

“My name is Princess Perfect now,” Lila growls back. “Get out of my way, Adrien.”

Marinette literally gags. “Did Hawkmoth choose that name for you?”

“No, I didn’t,” Gabriel seethes. Unfortunately, none of them can hear him.

“Yes, he did,” Lila lies breezily. “But that’s not important. You think you’re such a hot shot, Marinette? You think you can take the spotlight from me without repercussions? I’m going to make sure everyone hates you and loves me, and you’ll learn your lesson for trying to cross me. After all, who can say no to Princess Perfect?”

Gabriel sighs through his nose. Are all teens this dramatic?

Apparently, they are. Betrayal comes from those closest to home, because it’s Adrien that holds up his arms even higher, still staring Lila down. “You’re going to have to go through me if you want to hurt her,” he promises. “Marinette, get out of here! Run!”

Oh, for heaven’s sake—

Two things happen at once. Lila darts towards them, her whip lashing out directly at Adrien. Gabriel swears under his breath—why isn’t Adrien moving out of the way? Why is he so intent on protecting that useless girl? “Lila!” he barks through the bond, but the akumatized girl is too far gone. “Touch him and I’ll make sure—”

Gabriel trails into dumbfounded silence when Marinette shoves Adrien aside, grabs the end of Lila’s whip, and tugs the weapon straight out of the girl’s hands.

“You’ve gone too far,” she growls in a tone so chilly that it even reaches him. “Adrien, get out of here! I can handle her.”

Lila’s own shock lasts for a couple of times before she regains some of her composure. “You?” she sneers. “Handle me? Why, you pathetic—”

Adrien chucks a pencil case at Lila. It hits her cheek, and she whirls on him, enraged. At the same time, Marinette darts away from the window and slides behind the large wooden desk at the front. Gabriel, still watching the scene unfold, scoffs. So for all her big talk, she’s still nothing but a coward.

“Stand down,” he commands Lila once more. “Don’t you dare touch Adrien—what the hell?”

Lila seems to have noticed the source of his bewilderment as well, but it’s far too late. From underneath the desk, Marinette has lifted the thing—the giant, wooden desk—onto her shoulders.

Gabriel’s positive he stops breathing.

“Wait—” Lila begins. He sees it all through her eyes: Marinette braces herself for a moment and then throws it—throws the desk that a grown man shouldn’t be able to lift—right at Lila.

She doesn’t stand a chance. Lila goes down in a crash, pinned under the weight of Ms. Bustier’s desk that this small, petite girl had somehow bench-pressed and then chucked.

As much as Lila struggles, she is unable to remove the desk from on top of her. Given that his akumas have enhanced strength and she’s still incapable of lifting it, just how strong is Marinette?

Said girl in question stalks over to Lila. She plants a foot firmly against the overturned side of the desk and looks down at the girl trapped underneath.

Gabriel is certain that somehow, impossible as it sounds, Marinette is staring right through Lila’s eyes, through their connection, and into his own. His body freezes. His jaw locks. And for the first time in a very, very long time, Gabriel Agreste is absolutely terrified.

“Next time you try something like this,” Marinette growls, leaning in, “I won’t let you off so easily.”

With that ominous note, she snatches the necklace off Lila’s neck and marches right out of the classroom.

Gabriel remains frozen for a couple more moments. He isn’t certain if he still remembers how to breathe.

It wasn’t Ladybug nor Chat Noir that had foiled this plan. No, it was Adrien Agreste’s classmate, a girl who had previously annoyed him, that had single handedly defeated an akuma and scared him absolutely shitless.

What. The. Fuck.

***

“Adrien,” Gabriel says over dinner. “You know that girl you always talk about? Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

His son looks up from his meal with a bright look on his face. Once upon a time, Gabriel would’ve been annoyed. Now, after reevaluating the girl, he comes to the conclusion that it’s best Adrien stays on Marinette’s good side. She’s probably more than capable of beating his son up.

“Yeah, Marinette?” Adrien echoes. “You know how there was an akuma attack today? Well, Marinette was actually there in the classroom with me when the akuma came for us.”

Gabriel is forced to play ignorant. “Oh? What happened?”

“Well, the akuma tried to attack us, and Marinette picked up a desk—you might find it hard to believe, and honestly I would’ve too if I hadn’t seen her do it—and threw it at the akuma. When Ladybug and Chat Noir finally showed up, there wasn’t even anything for them to do.”

Gabriel shifts in his seat. “That is… rather unbelievable."

Except he swears he can still feel the heat of Marinette’s glare, and is forced to accept that this is the reality he’s living in.

“Why did you ask about her, though, father?”

He snaps back into the present. “Huh?”

“Marinette—why did you ask about her? Wait, father, are you reconsidering hiring her? Did you finally look at the designs I sent you? This is amazing. I’m sure she’ll do amazing. Your stocks will rise. You’ll get more customers. Marinette’s basically a walking lucky charm—this will be the best decision you’ve ever made, father. I promise.”

He frowns at Adrien. “Don’t make preposterous suggestions. But yes— I am considering giving Marinette Dupain-Cheng a job at the company, perhaps an internship one of the senior designers. She’s very… talented.”

He thinks of the way she’d lifted the desk and flung it at Lila. Talented, indeed.

Perhaps talented enough to finally give him an edge against Ladybug and Chat Noir.

***

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is more than eager to come in for a so-called interview. Nathalie has done her digging on the girl: she’s made it pretty big quite a couple times already, in the fashion industry and has quite a few connections. Even if Gabriel’s motivations aren’t technically for the company, he has to admit that she has much future potential to tap into in the future. But for now, that’s not his goal.

She’s impeccably dressed when Nathalie leads her inside his study. Her eyes are positively shining when she beams at Gabriel. “Mr. Agreste!” Marinette chirps. “I’m so happy to be here. When Adrien told me you wanted to interview me for the job…this is such an amazing opportunity to be presented with, and I am so honoured.”

Gabriel exchanges a glance with Nathalie. She nods subtly.

“It’s my pleasure to meet you, Ms. Dupain-Cheng.” He rises from his desk and holds out his hand for her to shake. She does so.

It takes all of Gabriel’s self-control not to show the pain on his face when she grips his hand.

How the fuck is this girl so strong?

Thankfully, Marinette doesn’t seem to notice anything wrong. Gabriel draws back his hand and tucks it behind his back. It’s throbbing.

“So, Marinette.” He sits back down at his desk. Marinette is practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. If she were any normal person, Gabriel might’ve snapped at her to settle down, but after that show with Lila yesterday, he decides that it’s for his own good not to get on her bad side. He’ll just have to channel all his patience—for self-preservation, really. “I understand that you’re interested in interning at my company?”

She nods excitedly. “I’ve been designing for years, Mr. Agreste—I’m aware that I have a lot to improve on—”

“What I have in mind for you—” Gabriel pauses, realizing that he’d interrupted her. Hurriedly, he gulps. “Never mind. Continue.”

“I’m aware that I have a lot to improve on but I’m a very quick learner! I promise I’ll do my very best to help you and your company.”

He nods. “That’s good to hear. For now, I’ll… I’ll arrange with Nathalie what we can assign you to do in the company. And I have another favour to ask of you, if it’s not too much.”

Marinette smiles. “Whatever it is, I’ll do my best to help you!”

Nathalie had warned him to be careful with Marinette—one wrong move and he could be ousted as Hawkmoth. He takes a deep breath. “I have become aware that there are some bad influences around my son in school. You are friends with Adrien, yes?”

“Yes, and… bad influences?” Marinette frowns, shifting her weight. “Oh, yeah, there’s one in particular. Actually, I’m not sure if you’re aware, Mr. Agreste, but I’m glad you brought it up. You know that akuma yesterday? That girl’s name was Lila Rossi. She’s been hanging around Adrien quite a bit these days, and ‘bad influence’ barely covers what she does. And—oh! When I confronted her once about making Adrien uncomfortable, she told me she had a ‘friend in a high place’ that was backing her up. I think you might want to look into that too, Mr. Agreste. It was pretty worrisome, to be honest.”

Gabriel’s mouth has gone dry. “I… yes. Yes, I shall look into that too.”

Marinette rolls her shoulders. “God, if I knew who they were, I’d throw them into the Seine. How dare they.” Then her eyes widen. “Sorry, Mr. Agreste! I was just… um, I was just talking to myself. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s perfectly alright,” Gabriel reassures immediately, although it doesn’t do much to ease the chill that is travelling up his spine. “Then it’s decided? Nathalie will give you her contact information—you can send her your resume just for formalities, and she will organize the rest. And… be sure to keep an eye on my son at school.”

“I will!” Marinette chirps, ever so chipper. Behind that attitude lies the strength to lift the desk he’s currently sitting and crush him. And much, much more.

Nathalie guides the girl away. Gabriel is unable to breathe fully until she leaves.

He has to calculate this well, because he can’t afford to lose a potential ally like Marinette Dupain-Cheng. He’s already thinking—perhaps she would do well with the Peacock Miraculous, or the Bee Miraculous, if he can get his hands on it again. If—if he can somehow convince Marinette to help him with his cause, all of his other plans don’t even need to go into action. Ladybug and Chat Noir will never see this coming.

Nathalie returns. “Sir, your face is rather pale,” she notes. “But may I ask what that was about? You were… unusually lenient today.”

Gabriel clears his throat and straightens in his seat. “Never mind me,” he dismisses. “But first, I need to contact Lila Rossi as soon as possible to cut off all ties. Let her know she’s fired.”

“Is this because…?”

He allows himself a small smile. “You’ll see soon, Nathalie,” he reassures. “We’ve finally got the upperhand in this fight.”

Notes: i lost brain cells writing it, and i’m sure y’all have lost brain cells reading it. 

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