#but i wish people who acts like that to choke with their own saliva and die a brutal and painful death

[hikarinokusari]

Me : I'm done helping people.

Someone contacts me through DM and asks for help

Me *is a clown anyway, provide the help*

Them after getting what they want, doesn't even say ty and ghosts when I ask if it works

Me : :) *look for a clown wig and the red nose yet another time*.

[lubdubsworld]

Take all of my Firsts.

Genre : awkward humans in love. A lot of first times done wrong? Or possibly done just right. 

Rating : 21+ 

Warnings : Its written by me. Thats all the warning you’re gonna get. also Jungkook here is a whole cutie i’m in love. 

Summary : After getting fired and blacklisted for refusing to sleep with her boss, 26 year old Hana is kind of desperate for a job. So much so, she applies to be the secretary of the painfully awkward, absolutely anti-social Jeon Jungkook, the bumbling CEO of a brand new start up company. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

1. First Date. (1/?) 

 “ This is blue.” Jeon Jungkook's impressively large figure filled the entryway to my tiny cubicle, shoulders brushing the two wooden frames on either side of him and when he carefully stepped into the workspace, the rickety old boards beneath our feet creaked ominously. 

Both of us paused, waiting to see if today would be the day the dilapidated warehouse finally gave up on us, plunging us twenty  feet down into the basement. 

When after a second, Jungkook still stood tall, very much not falling to his untimely demise in an explosion of broken floorboards and rubble, I finally exhaled in relief and looked at what he was showing me. 

I blinked, staring at the pen in his hand. It looked pretty ordinary by all standards, nothing remarkable. But the way Jungkook was staring at it, implied that it had done some sort of very personal affront to his person. 

“Uh..yes?” I wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with this whole thing. 

“There are three blue pens in my draw. I only require two on any day. One that i use and another as a spare in case the first one fails in some way. This is not required.” He intoned gently. 

I could feel the urge to scream, slowly build.

“Right... of course. Very carefully analyzed and concluded, sir. I just don’t know...” why  on earth are you telling me this?

“My draw is cluttered by this pen. A second spent picking and dropping this around is a second of my time wasted, Hana. And you know how I feel about wasted time and its effect on our productivity.”

And you know how I feel about this moldy ass warehouse office that you insist we use because its free and you don’t have to pay rent, there’s insects here that are probably extinct in the outside world, not to mention there's a very suspicious looking algae growing on the underside of my table and I don’t wanna know if its going to mutate and eat me whole, but you don’t really care about any of that , do you, you murderously oblivious pinhead ??

 “ Hana! Are you listening to me?” Jungkook’s voice snapped me out of own head and i smiled weakly, carefully plucking the open out of his hand.

“I’ll get rid of it , sir.” I said dutifully, getting up to drop the pen on a side table and the floor boards creaked again, louder . I froze, staring down at the small cracks in the floor, offering me a glimpse of the dusty basement underneath us. 

 Please God, don’t let me die in this hellhole.   

“Get rid of it?” Jungkook looked very serious, his handsome face scrunched in displeasure and I wondered yet again why I was still here. 

And yet i felt the familiar curl of reluctant affection as well. I had only been working for him for a little over two and a half months and i already felt a desperate need to save him from the world and himself.

Mostly himself. 

“Uh..no?” I asked confusedly and he sighed deeply. 

“That would be an awful waste. The pen should merely be stored away for future use, hopefully somewhere other than my draw. I hate clutter.” 

Right. Right of course. I tried to smile soothingly.

“ I understand your sentiments perfectly, Mr. Jeon. i take full responsibility for not ...de-cluttering your draw this morning.”  because i was too busy adjusting our budget for the month, setting up seven interviews with potential employees and seventeen other meetings with clients and investors. But who cares about that right? When there’s a whole extra pen that needs to be taken care of. 

“ Excellent. Also, the dinner with Kim Sera? Could you tell her that I am not available for coitus?” 

I choked on my own saliva, coughing in disbelief. 

“Are you dying? Do you wish me to call the ambulance?” He frowned and i spluttered, shaking my head. 

“No.. i... No. Just... Sera... You. I... What?” I choked out. 

He rolled his eyes. 

“I said, Could you tell Ms. Kim that I am not available for coi-”

“I HEARD YOU.” I shouted and he jumped a bit. “ I.. I heard you, sir. But ...just... She merely asked you out to dinner? She’s a potential client and-”

“I only meet potential clients here in my office. I only get asked to dinner, in order to have coi-”

“SEX!!” I shouted in desperation. I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around Jungkook saying coitus. it was warping my insides and making my gut clench, intestines twisting like little snakes. 

“Excuse me?” He tilted his head in confusion and I felt my heart ache, completely at odds with the throbbing headache he was giving me, pulse racing at how ridiculously cute he looked, considering he was a grown man of twenty five. A whole three months older than me and yet it felt like i was babysitting him all the damn time.

“Please just say sex. its what every one says... coitus is just-” i felt slightly nauseous. 

Jungkook frowned deeply.

“Sex can hold different meanings. Like gender , for example. I merely wish to avoid confusion. when i say coitus I’m talking about the physical act of a penis-”

I brought my palm down on the table with enough force to scatter the papers and send the stationery flying . Jungkook jumped a little. 

“I  feel-” i shuddered, “ this conversation is getting derailed, a bit Sir.. Lets just talk about why you think, Ms Kim wants to have sex with you.” 

Jungkook opened his mouth to argue and i groaned.

“Coitus.” i choked out quickly. “ Why do you think Ms. Kim wants to have coitus with you?” 

Jungkook shrugged.

“Its what I get asked out for.” 

I blinked.

“You... Dinner is ... It doesn't always have to be for sex, Sir. People go out to dinner to talk to each other all the time.” I protested.

Jungkook frowned.

“Really? People don’t like when I talk.” He stared down at his feet. 

I felt that familiar fist around my heart again.

“I... “

“Its alright, Hana. I understand I’m peculiar and i make people comfortable. So they often just want me to eat in silence and take then back to my apartment.” He shrugged. “ It was wrong of me to assume that that is how all humans behave. I still don’t think Ms. Kim would want to have dinner with me. Even if she did, I may ruin our chances. I’m not.. I’m not good with people.” 

I stared at him.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” I blurted out, before I could think it through.” Sir.”

Jungkook looked up, frowning. 

“What?”

“A dinner date sir. You and I, tonight. I’ll reschedule your meeting with Ms. Kim to tomorrow night. I’ll show you how dinner dates go. And you can be ... well... you can feel more comfortable when you meet her.” 

Jungkook considered.

“That is an excellent idea. You will take me out on a date and teach me what to say and do.” 

I smiled, nodding.

“And there will be no coitus.”

That word had definitely grown on me. 

“No sir. No coitus.” I fought the urge to grin. 

“It would be my first date then. A proper date.” He looked excited. 

And then he frowned.

“What must I wear?” He asked confusedly. 

“Oh something casual should be fine?”

“Casual....you mean like my beige suit? i admit I haven;’t work it in years because its a bit too frivolous but I can make an exception. You’re a bit ...” He paused,” wild yourself.” 

Not sure what he meant by wild, i merely shook my head.

“No suits sir. Just some shirt and slacks should be fine.”

Jungkook frowned again.

“That sounds incredibly scandalous. Are you sure you don’t wish to have coitus?” He asked eyes narrowed in suspicion.

This time the laugh escaped against my will. 

“Your virtue is safe with me sir.” I said with a straight face and he sighed.

“Well, then. I shall meet you at the same restaurant where I was to meet her? At 8.00?”

I hesitated.

“Sure. Unless you’d like the full date experience?”

Jungkook leaned forward, clearly intrigued.

“What is that?”

“If you meet me at the subway station near your apartment at six, i’ll show you.” I grinned, “ Sir.” 

Jungkook nodded enthusiastically. 

“Excellent. I’ll do that Hana.” He smiled and then glanced at the pen , smiling.

“I’ll keep it safe , Sir. Don’t worry about it.”

I watched him walk out of the cubicle, heart racing. i willed myself not to stare at the broad back and narrow waist. 

 If you develop a crush on him, there is no doubt that you are the weakest link in human history. The reason humanity will die out will be because of your lack of sense, Hana, because even stupidity should have its limits. 

( TO BE CONTINUED) 

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

AUTHOR’S NOTE : So, this is the drabble i was talking about. And i am terrible at fluff so give me ideas for their first date :’( 

[crowdedimagines]

Spill It - Harry Styles

an// i literally love the spill your guts concept, but hopefully this is a new take on it! also, this is not going to be chronologically correct to real life, that’s the fun of fiction! also in a world without covid

“I will never understand how you continue to convince people to do this.” I sigh, taking in the table in front of me.

“Let’s take a look at what Y/n here is so fond of.” James teases before giving the table a good spin, showing off all of its contents, “To start we’ve got salmon smoothie, beef tongue, bird saliva, scorpion, fish head, hot sauce, bull penis, and finally, the water beetle. I think you’re both familiar with the rules of this game.”

“I’m sure.” Niall smiles, turning his head towards mine and I nod in agreement.

Niall and I go way back, having been friends for years. We met back in 2013 when I opened for One Direction’s tour. I quickly become close with all of them. One more so than the others. Harry. He and I just clicked, everyone knew it. It took months for us to start dating, afraid that we would ruin the good thing we had, but neither of us wanted to wait anymore. You can’t pass up a connection like that.

“Niall, I will ask you the first question.” James announces, “We’ll go with the salmon smoothie.”

“Oh god.” He mutters.

James lets out a loud laugh and covers his face in shock over the question. He turns it to me so I can catch a glimpse before he reads it out-loud and my jaw drops.

“You might as well drink now, not even hear the question.” I tease, leaning across the table.

“Niall, who is your least favorite member of One Direction?”

Niall’s head drops in defeat, even though he was sure going into this a question like this would be brought up. He just wishes it could’ve been on something a little easier to choke down.

“Drink up, babe.” I smile, a teasing smile crossing my face.

“Fuck.” He shakes his head.

“I can’t… “ He reaches for the glass and throws it back, it takes a few seconds for the sludge to finally shift and he can get a mouthful. A sour look takes over his face as soon as it reaches his taste buds. He quickly leans down to spit it in the bucket.

“That’s horrendous.” He coughs, “It was like a salmon yogurt.”

“Alright Niall, your turn to ask Y/n.”

I smile politely to my friend of many years who takes on a sinister look once he’s read the question.

“Please be nice.” I stick out my bottom lip.

“Right right.” He laughs, spinning the table as he takes in his options.

“Don’t forget I have a very good memory, especially of the years spent on a shared tour bus…” I chaff.

“Don’t remind me.” He settles on the hot sauce, thankfully one of the lesser evil options. I would take this over anything else on the table.

I did crash on their bus more than my own. It started because they were fun, barely older than me, but then when Harry and I started dating we became. Even sharing a bunk as uncomfortable as it was most nights. Those boys grew up with me, and I’m thankful to still be in good contact with all of them.

“You recently welcomed your third god-child into the world when Zayn Malik and Gigi Hadid welcomed their daughter to the world.”

“Yes, I did.” I smile at the cheering audience. I have managed to do the impossible in staying close with all of the boys since the hiatus. Well, all but one. Gigi and I met years ago, and I introduced the pair at an award show. The other boys had their reason for making me god mother, but it did give me this monopoly on all of the One Direction children. 

“You are actually the god-mother to all three of the One Direction children. Who’s your favorite?”

My jaw drops at the question. Who had the audacity to ask that? To think I could ever answer that about any of my little nieces and nephews. The audience cheers in shock over the question as well.

“You’re joking.” I scoff, “They’re children, I could never pick a favorite!”

“How about your least favorite then?” James teases.

“You lot are all horrendous!”

I grab the shot glass and down the hot sauce immediately. I love all of them way too much to ever pick. I’m sure it’s exactly what they expected with a question like that. It burns for a few seconds and I put the glass back and try to shake it off.

“Nice one!” Niall cheers.

“Now James-” I clear my throat, the hot sauce catching up with me, “Name one guest that you would never invite back to the show.” I bite back a smile and fan my face with the card.  

James looks up into the camera as if he actually wants to answer.

“C’mon, you can do it! Just for once.” I grin like a little kid in a candy store, I want him to answer. I want to know, and it would be nice to finally get him to reveal an answer like this.

“Are you trying to get this show canceled?” He turns to one of the producers off screen. He looks between them and the water beetle I’ve placed in front of him. He gives his head one last shake before throwing it down the hatch.

“Niall, it’s your last night on Earth, you can either spend it with your ex girlfriend Ellie Goulding or Selena Gomez?”

He goes back and forth, trying to be polite with his answer before eventually picking Ellie.

“Y/n, who is your favorite member of One Direction?” Niall asks, the smirk growing wider with every word he utters.

The crowd roars, knowing very well of my relationship from a few years ago. One that people still brought up regularly in both Harry and my life due to us remaining friendly. 

“What is up with you guys wanting to know my favorites?” I roll my eyes, “Give me something I can actually answer.”

“Fine! I’ll ask you one!” Niall grins, an evil and family glint in his eyes appearing, “What songs have you written about Harry?”

A red hue takes over my face again, only this time it’s not from the hot sauce.

“Either that, or the bird saliva.” He grins, showing off a wide smile. If only we weren’t on national television and I could smack it off.

“It smells like wet dog.” I sigh, I pick it up giving it a whiff before setting it back down on the table, “Could I name one song?”

Niall and James exchange a look before the nod accepting it. 

“I wrote the song Everything about him.” I smile. It shouldn’t exactly be a surprise to most people, there were clues. Both of our fans were smart enough to catch on and read between the lines. It was a song I released almost two years ago, the album following our breakup.

It was a powerful song, it quickly became one of the favorites of my fans. It’s also one of the few that I don’t perform. I can’t think of a time I’ve sung that song without crying, it wasn’t meant for the stage. It was meant to be played in your bedroom while you stare at your ceiling. People have always understood that. 

“It’s a lovely song.” Niall smiles knowingly.

“Thank you.” I smile, I move on and reach out to ask James his question.

“James, you have been blessed to have both Niall and I on for carpool karaoke.” I smile at Niall, “Which one did you enjoy more?”

I can’t fight off the laughter that takes over. As if it isn’t hard enough to answer questions like these, it’s only upped the ante by having us both here.

“You’re kidding.” He dabs away the sweat on his forehead.

“It’s okay, Niall won’t be that offended.” I reassure and stick out my tongue at Niall.

“You’re an arse.” Niall laughs with the roll of his eyes.

In the middle of Niall and I acting like children bickering, James tears off a bite of the cows tongue without another word.

“Oh god.” I turn away from the unpleasant sight.

“That’s rank.” Niall huffs.

Niall answers his next question from James again, successfully getting away without eating anything.

“Y/n, if the past four years you have gotten into acting. You have made quite a name for yourself on the big screen as well as on the stage.” Niall begins.

“I don’t like where this is going.” I laugh.

“Rank your co-stars from your past films best to worst; Dylan O’Brian, Logan Lerman, and John Boyega.” Niall smacks his knee with a laugh.

“I have been blessed to work with so many talented actors” I start, picking up the terrifying looking bug that has been placed in front of me.

“Mhm.” James agrees with an evil smile on his face.

“So talented, that I could never rank them.” I throw back the scorpion before I can second guess myself. I manage to chew enough of it for it to count before spitting it out as gracefully as I can.

That’s a wrap after that, enough time getting juicy content out of us quite literally either spilling or filling our guts. I give Niall a hug before going back to my dressing room. I couldn’t be more thankful to share the couch tonight with a long time friend.

I drive home, eager to go home and relax. The episode won’t air until later tonight which gives me a couple hours of peace from Twitter. I take a bath and make myself some dinner, before eventually climbing into bed and turning on the TV to watch the episode.

It’s good, fun to watch back. Niall and I make a good pair, easy to read the friendship on camera. In time the episode ends and I turn off the TV and decide to go to bed. It’s been a long day full of press. Before I can actually drift off my phone lighting up and vibrating on my nightstand grabs my attention.

You are my everything too. xx

PART TWO??????

[amive2567]

Characters: Tamaki Amjiki x GNReader; Izuku Midoryia x FemReader; Shouto Todoroki x GNReader; Hitoshi Shinsou x GNReader; Katsuki Bakugou x GNReader

Warnings: mention of period, pranks, fluff, swearing, OOC characters (maybe?), suggestive themes in Bakugous part,

Summary: As a famous Herowatcher(Youtuber), you wanted to film a video about how your boyfriend's reaction to your prank.

Words: Tamaki:366 Izuku:532 Shouto:590 Hitoshi:416 Katsuki:528

In the last few weeks, you saw a lot of videos about partners pranking each other. There were different pranks they did, and you decided to pull the fainting prank on your boyfriend.

You both planned to train outside today. To record your prank, you set up a camera in a bush so that Tamaki wouldn't notice it. You felt a bit guilty about that what you were going to do. But still, you wanted to execute your plan. The sun was pretty warm, which gave you the perfect conditions to do this. You were doing jumping jacks but suddenly stopped.

Your prank is starting now. "Are you ok?" asked Tamaki, who noticed your behavior change. You nodded but stumbled to your water bottle. Before you could reach it, you "passed out". "Sunshine?" he froze in his tracks and was paralyzed as you tried not to react to his anxious cry for you. He kneeled beside you. His thumb caressed your cheek, and you felt that his hand was shaking. "Are you ok? Oh, I had to watch out better. If I only had reacted immediately, I am so sorry." his voice was breaking. He took your legs and held them high. He tried to stabilize your circulation. "Please wake up," mumbled Tamaki anxiously.

Now you decided to clear things off. "Darling, it's a prank," you said. "What? Why would you do that?" he asked, confused. "I saw it on the internet and wanted to try it, but I didn't want to scare you." You sat up and hugged him tightly.

After a couple of minutes, you broke away from him. "See, there is the camera." You pointed to the bush. Embarrassed, he hid his face in the crook of your neck.

After the two of you finished the actual training, you edited the video and posted it on Herowatch. In the next few days, the video had a couple of thousands of likes, views, and comments:

SuneaterfanNo.1: God, he was so worried about them. I wish I had such a boyfriend.

User219: I am feeling like a single pringle right now. :(

FanfictionAdict: Because of your videos, my expectations of getting a partner are way too high.

Precisely you tried to adjust the camera on a shelf between a bunch of All Might figures. You hoped he wouldn't notice the camera you put there. Izuku was still working, but he had to be home soon. That was the perfect moment to prepare your prank. You switched patiently between the different apps on your phone until a message popped up.

I am only changing and showering at the agency. After that, I will come home.

Alright, see you soon, love. Oh, could you please bring some chocolate on your way home?

Sure, see you, honey.

See you too.

You laid your phone on the nightstand, patiently waiting for your husband to come home. You feel bad pranking Izuku after his stressful day, saving the lives of probably many children and adults, but special situations needed special measures. It was probably totally worth it to see his reaction to your "horrible cramps". He was such a sweetheart. It would probably give him a heart attack. Well, now, with this thought, you felt a bit worse.

After some time passed, the door opened, and your boyfriend entered your decent flat. Now was your time to show the world that you didn't suck at acting. "I am home." shouted the green-haired pro hero through your flat. "In the living room." You tried to sound like you would be in pain.

Apparently, it was convincing in less than a second Izuku was next to you. "What happened? Where does it hurt?" Sometimes he was too observant for his own good. "My stomach hurts so much." "Oh, can you think of a reason? Did you eat something bad? I will get you a hot water bottle." He rushed to the open kitchen to prepare the hot-water bottle. "I am probably getting my period." You grabbed a pillow and hugged it tightly. "Ahhh." you groaned extra dramatically. "Do you want to take some painkillers?" "Yes, please." He took the hot water bottle out of the microwave. With quick steps, he got back to your side. Gently, he took away the pillow and replaced it with the water bottle. "I get you the painkillers." With those words, he rushed to the bathroom.

"We don't have any painkillers." Shouted Izuku apologetically. "That's fine." "I can buy you some. You shouldn't have to be in pain, honey." He came back to you. "There is no need to." A mischievous smile spread across your face. "How can you smile when you're in pain?" "Because I am not." If you got asked who best embodied a question mark, it would be your husband. "What?" "It was a prank." you laughed. "See, there is the camera." You pointed toward the pile of All Might figures. His shoulders lost the tension, and he hugged you tightly. "I am glad you are alright."

On the same evening, you edited the video and uploaded it on Herowatch. Since you were the wife of the number one hero of Japan, the video went viral.

ASinglePerson: The poor man was so worried. He is such a cutie.

Deku'sgreatestfan: Ahhh, Deku is so great. I love him.

SomeoneYouWillNeverMeet: We need more Y/N x Deku videos. You guys are so cute.

Balancing on a ladder, you tried to mount the camera on the high bookshelf. You hoped Shouto wouldn't notice the camera you put on there. Since he was still working, you could prepare perfectly for your prank, or rather reaction video. The number of times you had already pranked him wasn't high, but every seldom time it was funny to see his reaction.

While waiting for Shouto to come home, you filmed your intro and arranged your new sleeping place on the couch. You waited patiently for him, and when the key in the door turned, you knew it was time to pull out your acting skills. Habitually you would greet him with a hug and a kiss, but today everything had to be like you planned it. "I am home." You needed to pull yourself together that you didn't answer. The silent treatment was the best thing you could think of at the moment. If you started to talk, you would probably tell him the truth. "Y/N?" asked the heterochromatic man again. You heard his tranquil steps coming closer to the living room.

As he entered the room, his eyes immediately locked with yours. His eyes were filled with confusion, seeing you on the couch covered in your blanket that you usually use to sleep. "Are you ok?" You nodded. Now it was getting serious. "Everything is fine. I merely want to sleep on the couch today." "Why?" "I think you can answer that yourself." The poor man had no clue what you were talking about. He knew he did the laundry, helped you with your documents at the agency, and made your food. What had he forgotten?

You pulled the blanket over your body to signal to him that this conversation is over. Without a word, he took out a book from the shelf, and you worried that he saw the camera. He sat down in the armchair next to the couch. The only sound you could hear was the flipping of the pages. At that moment, you loved him even more. He respected your privacy and decisions more than every other person in your life ever did. "I am going to sleep now, have a blessed night." He put a bookmark in the book and put it back on the shelf. You felt strange not to go with him to bed.

As he said, he went to bed, and the flat the two of you lived in was unusually quiet. It was strange laying alone in the dark. You were so used to his presence that you couldn't sleep. Now you regretted not clearing the prank. A ruffling sound in the darkness caught your attention. "Shouto?" you asked into the dark. "Y/N, I am so sorry. Whatever I did, I did it unintentionally. I never wanted to hurt your feelings. I can't sleep without you. Can I sleep next to you?" Quietly Shouto came closer to your unusual sleeping place. "Of course you can. I am so sorry. It was just a prank." You swung the covers aside and ran into his arms. Gladly, the moon lit up the living room so didn't walk into the furniture. "Let us go to bed," you suggested.

The next day, you edited the video and uploaded it. Since you were the lover of the number two hero in Japan, your video blew up.

randomperson: Where can you get a bf like this?

NoName: He is such a sweetheart. I wish I had such a boyfriend.

SingleLikeAPringle: I feel so single with your videos.

It was finally your day off of hero work, so you decided to drag Shinsou to a cat café. That was one of your two intentions. Your second intention was to prank him a bit. Your Foryoupage on TikTok particularly exploded with "What would you do if I go back to my ex." - Pranks. Since you developed a big community on Herowatch, you wanted to make a short video about it too.

Secretly you recorded the two of you entering the cat café. You know how much Hitoshi hated the attention, so you often recorded your videos alone. But not today. Today was the day the whole world can see that Y/N L/N has a boyfriend. Well, not today exactly, because you had to edit the video so that Hitoshi can't be seen properly. Besides, you didn't want him to make him feel uncomfortable. This was just a way to get rid of the creepy people of the internet.

You ordered your drinks, and Hitoshi was already occupied with stroking the first cat. You placed the camera inconspicuously on the floor, so only Hitoshi's legs could be seen. "You know if we broke up, I would go back to my ex." you suddenly said and waited for his reaction. He casually looked up from the cat and nodded. "That's fine. I would also like to go back to my ex." "What..?" you stuttered, trying not to choke on your saliva. A mischievous grin spread across his face. "You heard right. I would go back to my ex." "You're joking." "Maybe. Maybe not." Now he couldn't hold back small laughter.

"Alright, jokes aside. You're practically binge-watching all those "What would you do if I go back to my ex." - Pranks. I know what you were trying to do. We are both aware that we are the exes with whom we get back together." He said calmly. "You retrolled me," you exclaimed loudly. "That's what you get when you mess with me, kitty cat." he winked at you. "Yeah, whatever." you scoffed and petted the cat in your lap.

The next morning, you edited the video, and looking back on yesterday, it was a bit funny.

InternetAdict: He is a smart guy. You are a lucky person.

VoiceKink: His voice is so soothing. Can I get his voice somewhere?

LoveYou: Your videos are so great. We need more of your secret boyfriend. We don't even need to see his face. His voice is enough to make someone go weee.

It was a rare occasion that your boyfriend Katsuki was at home, but today was the day. Because of that, you had to take your chance. Since your boyfriend is the most observant person on this planet. There was no way to hid a camera, so you used your phone instead.

He was currently next to you in the kitchen and cooked dinner for both of you. You often volunteered to help him, but he said your cooking skills were worse than Todorokis, which was something you had never thought. The Bakusquad, and you still believe that he watched too many shows with Gordon Ramsay as a child. He definitely adopted his behavior in the kitchen. Only today, you tried to ignore him, only for the sake of seeing his reaction. You sat on the barstool in front of your kitchen counter and pretended to do something on your cell phone. Even if you were actually only filming. Let the fun begin.

"Oi, babe, pass me the curry." Usually, you would have corrected him about the way he demands things, but now you just ignored him. He turned around and watched you. "Alright, I am getting it myself." You looked so concentrated on your phone that he didn't want to distract you. It went on like this for what felt like hours until Katsuki was done with cooking your food. He put the steaming plate in front of you, then he sat down next to you. You were still on your phone, so Katsuki snatched it out of your hands. "Hey." You exclaimed and immediately covered your mouth with your hands. Great, now the prank was ruined. "Why are you covering your mouth like that. Are you finally gonna talk to me now?" Still, you wanted to last a bit longer, so you kept quiet. "Fine, then not."

The two of you ate in silence till Katsuki had enough. "Alright, dumbass, what's wrong? You usually never shut up, and now your all quiet and stuff. Did somebody hurt you? I'll beat their ass. They're gonna die." he growled. You had to suppress a chuckle. Sometimes he could be so caring. Well, at least in his own individual way. "Then don't talk to me. I didn't want to know it anyway." Now you couldn't stand it any longer. "Why are you laughing, dumbass?" he asked bewildered. "I was just kidding. Everything is fine. Never thought you'd care so much about me." "Yeah, I care about your stupid ass. Now I want an apology. A good one with physical effort, if you know what I mean." He winked, and you got it. The video you wanted to film was long forgotten as you dragged him closer to the bedroom.

In the evening, you found your phone on the counter. Immediately you started to edit this whole thing. You finished late at night and finally got to upload the video on Herowatch.

Tsunderefan123: He is such a tsundere, but a lovely one.

SingleMom: Every time I watch your videos where he is involved, I feel so single.

Adviceseeker: Tell me a secret, how can you get a guy like him?

[shealolz]

HIGH ENOUGH - DABI/TODOROKI TOUYA

warnings & notes: branding skin, mild blood, swearing, guns, creampie

summary: dabi & y/n have seggs. it's that simple. or is it?

genre: smut/nsfw

Dabi/Todoroki Touya x Female League of Villains Member

word count: 2,483

----

your hand rested on Tomura's arm, the man's flaky skin shuddering beneath your feather-light touch.

it would've been an innocent gesture to everyone but you, Tomura, or him.

a light blush covered his cheeks as you stood behind him, maybe a little too close.

of course, nobody would see your hips rocking against his ass and the breathy hitched gasps from his mouth.

they were all too concerned with their own villain agendas.

and also maybe the fact that Dabi was literally smoking from his staples.

so maybe you were grinding on your boss who you were friends with benefits all the while being fucking his second in command.

nothing wrong with that, right?

"y/n-" Tomura hissed. "What do you think you're doing?"

"pleasuring you boss. why? do you wish for me to stop?" you whispered into his ear, chuckling lightly.

"during our biggest meet-up? yes, I do." Tomura said more steadily only for a whimper to leave his lips.

"aw. it seemed like you liked it." you pouted, detaching from his back to stand next to him. "guess I'm not good enough, huh?"

"what?" he asked like the idea was atrocious. "no, no- you're fine, your wonderful y/n but just not right now."

something swelled in your gut, a certain heat.

so you had a minor praise kink, nothing to be ashamed about.

you smirked and turned to face him. "then I hope you don't mind if maybe this weekend we could meet up."

a manicured grip wrapped around his wrist, your manicured grip.

"Yeah I don't mind just don't be earlier than ten." he sighed.

"good, now if you don't mind I have downfalls to plot." you breathe out, going to your given workspace as you tie the apron around your waist.

you head for your table, your nails tapping against the wood as you map out certain alleyways.

sure the heat in your gut that made your pussy pulse wouldn't leave, that was the whole reason you were trying to get into Tomura's pants, but you could deal.

you had worse anyway.

once some dude edged you on till you were about to orgasm then left you to fucking make eggs.

to put it simply after fingering yourself till you cummed you broke the relationship.

if it could be called one. the two of you really just fucked each other till you were tired.

nothing special.

two hands slammed down next to you and a body pressed against you.

the smell of ash infiltrated your nose.

"what the fuck did you think you were doing with Tomura? I thought you were mine." Dabi growled into your ear.

you smiled a bit and wiped your chalk-covered hands on your jeans. "I dont know what you're talking about." you feign innocence.

his hand grabs your jaw to turn to face him, metal biting into your skin.

"I'm not blind like the others. don't think I didn't see you grinding on his pathetic ass." he snarls.

you shrug. "What can I say? people who melt in my palms intrigue me."

"oh? I don't think I do that, princess." Dabi huffs, letting go of your jaw.

you look down at the chalky mess in front of you and let out a silent breath.

the staring and eye contact had gotten to you and your panties were growing wetter by the second.

"if anything your melting in my palms," Dabi mutters, grabbing your forearm and pulling you away.

"Where are we going now?" you prompt.

"you'll see," he replies shortly.

letting him sit you in his car your hands run over the leather.

sure the League wasn't driving around in Spinner's beat-up van now that the Paranormal Liberation Front was around but the car still never ceased to amaze you.

he climbed into the front seat and adjusted the gear stick and pulled out from the building's parking lot.

there was a gun tucked into his pants.

to avoid showing your curiosity you looked out the window.

"I can see your legs trembling." he sang lightly as he made a sharp turn.

"can you? why don't you fix that then?" you shot back.

"hm? did you want me to bend you over that table and shove my dick into you?" he chuckled, the wind rustling his hair.

"it'd be embarrassing but quicker." you hum.

"calm your tits dollface we'll be there soon."

he drove into a parking garage, one known for being empty.

Dabi didn't stop till he got to the roof of the garage then he parked the car.

unbuckling his seat belt he reclined his chair back a bit.

you shimmied out of your jeans, already preparing for what was about to come.

"I think you know what to do?" he acknowledged.

"yes, I do." you agreed, climbing over the mechanics of the car to sit in the area between the wheel and Dabi's sit.

removing the gun Dabi waved it in your face, making sure you knew it was there.

he wouldn't be merciless if he didn't like it.

from your view, he seemed majestic.

the black cloudy skin in the backdrop, rumbling with thunder, the blue lighting of the car, his spiked belt, and wind tousled hair.

so similar to a god.

one of death.

your life was in his hands.

slowly your hands undid the belt, moving it to the side where you previously sat.

you unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down to his feet to reveal plain black boxers.

Dabi's boner wasn't full-blown but it was still there.

it seemed he got pleasure from looking down on you.

you can let him have this one, you can be his plaything today.

fingers looping into the boxers you pulled them down along with his pants.

his cock seemed to jump out at you and you stared at it.

"it's big." you blinked.

"you're acting like you haven't seen it before." Dabi drawled.

your hands gripped his thighs, nails digging into surprisingly soft skin.

beads of blood rose and slipped under your fingernails.

your lips wrapped around the tip, your tongue slipping under and dragging against it.

Dabi rested his head back, his tense posture loosening greatly.

"fuck, I forgot how good you are." he groaned.

the two of you hadn't done anything major in a while, just a couple of heated make-outs nothing more.

with the war rising after all there wasn't a lot of time to do that kind of shit.

tongue wrapping around his dick one hand wrapped around the area connecting to his hips and pumped slowly.

another groan as Dabi's hand found its way in your hair.

"c'mon princess, you can do better. I know you can." he purred, lidded turquoise eyes gazing down at you.

you squinted at him but nodded and sucked on his dick harder.

you were into it after all.

teeth nipped at the slit slightly before pouty pink lips pressed a kiss to it.

you swallowed as you pulled back, a trail of saliva connecting your mouth and Dabi's dick.

letting yourself breathe a bit, you went back in.

his dick slammed against the back of your throat and you didn't mind.

the way his deep moans bubbled from his chest and his grip tightened in your hair were worth it.

choking slightly you sucked, bobbing your head back and forth.

his nails scratch against your scalp, tugging harshly.

without a warning Dabi orgasms, the creamy liquid flowing down your throat and into your stomach.

his semen is at the corner of your lips along with a shit ton of saliva when you pull back.

"asshole could've told me you were finishing." you glare up at him.

he smirks. "that would've ruined the fun of it."

rolling your eyes you push his seat back to recline fully.

"so you wanna be the dominant one now?" he prompts, placing his hands on your hips as your straddle him.

"not really, I just want your dick." you deadpan.

he chuckles and rubs at your hipbones. "Whatever you say, princess."

his dick was already out and hard, his jacket wasn't on in the first place so he was just in his oversized white button-up.

you only had your panties and your bra left so you were almost closed to a state of undressing.

looking up at him you then glanced at your pussy so he would get the hint.

"damn thought I could watch you masturbate, gotta do all the work myself huh?" he huffed.

his finger sneaked under your underwear till they were tugged down.

Dabi frowned. "this won't do."

his finger lights aflame and you blink at the new idea.

your underwear burn to ash and the blue flame goes back. "better."

swiftly you grip his hand.

he looks up at you with a raised eyebrow.

you lean forward so you two were eye to eye.

"turn on your quirk," you order, your hot breath ghosting over his cheeks.

"Oh?" he questions but his finger flames again.

you bring it closer to your inner thigh and you see his breath hitch as he sits up a bit.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

you nod steadily.

he lets out a breath and lays back down, the flame never flickering as you slowly let go.

his other hand grabbed at your thigh, squishing the soft skin between his hands as he starts to brand your other thigh.

your nails dig into the leather of the seats as you bite down on your lip, the metallic taste of blood soon entering your mouth.

a moan leaves your mouth though as your lips stain red.

though it was painful the joy you felt as you were marked as Dabi's made your heart swell.

why did you like the feeling so god damn much?

the flame disappears and you glance at your thigh.

'𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐘𝐀'

"T-Touya?" you stutter out as you pant heavily.

"my name, the birth one," he replies.

you smile at him and press a kiss to his lips which he reciprocates.

"well it's a beautiful one," you whisper against his lips.

you could hear the amused chuckle.

his hand sneaks onto your thigh and rubs at the burn lightly, gaining a whine.

slowly his hand creeps for your vagina and he massages the skin.

soft moans leave your voice box. "a-ah!"

his smirk widened as he adjusts you so his fingers are facing your vagina.

you lower yourself onto him as his fingers pushed through your folds and into you.

the steel of his staples is cold compared to the muscle inside you as Dabi shifts around.

a gasp leaves your lips as your hands gripped onto the leather seats tighter.

then your phone rang.

turquoise eyes looked at you curiously. "Answer it."

you swallow and pat around for your phone, finding it in the passenger's seat.

" 'COCK FACE' IS CALLING "

you press the answer button and place it against your ear.

"eh? y/n? you there?"

Hawks.

"y-yup," you say hesitantly.

"so, you wanna meet later tonight? maybe a couple of rounds?" Hawks suggests and you can hear the pure arrogance through the phone.

he was fucking high.

"why'd you only ever c-call me when your high?" you scoff, pausing briefly when Dabi thrusts his fingers into you rather roughly.

"high?" Hawks echoes only to be cut off when you hung up.

you threw the phone back into the passenger seat and attached your lips to Dabi's scarred neck.

"Who was that?" he groans out, his hips bucking up.

"Hawks," you reply as you bite into his shoulder.

he lets out a moan and turns his head to you.

"so you're just fucking everyone you meet?"

"only the attractive ones."

he snorts but wraps his arm around your waist to tug you closer as his fingers thrust into you harder.

Dabi's fingers move around in a scissoring motion, hitting both sides of you.

your teeth puncture his skin and his grip on you tightens as he pushes his fingers in deeper.

"p-please just f-fuck me!" you cry out.

"you think your ready, dollface?" he hums.

you nod vigorously, turning to face him with desperate eyes.

"if you insist."

he takes his hand out of you and his arm slides from your waist as he picks up his dick.

the boner was fucking big.

how the hell was that supposed to fit in you?

he flips your positions, you now on the bottom as your boobs bounce in their bra by the force.

Dabi lines his dick with your entrance before shoving it in you.

you grip onto his sides with shaky hands as he lets you adjust to his size.

while he waits his hands slide under your shirt and bra and begin to squeeze at your boobs.

"ngh." you mewl. "m-move."

"Your wish is my command." he teased but started to pull out before thrusting back in.

you gasped and your hips bucked forward only to be stopped by his other hand.

"patience love," he mumbles.

he rubbed at your nipple, squeezing your breast, and pressing down onto the skin.

eventually, he just lifted the whole shirt off you and began to suck at the skin all the while thrusting into you.

moans and gasps fell from your lips.

"ah!" "ngh." "h-huh!"

tears pricked at your eyes from the pleasure, it was too much.

your legs were trembling again, signaling a nearby orgasm as Dabi thrust in even harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin sounding through the car.

soon enough your orgasm squirted all over him and he finished into you.

as he pulled out he smiled when looking at your whole.

"d-did you have to cum inside?" you whine.

"what? the cum running out of you looks pretty." he shrugged as he pulled the seat back up.

your legs hit the floor and you sat there, watching the world spin for a second.

then you climbed back into the passenger's seat and began to put on your clothes.

when your shirt was halfway on something cold pressed against your temple.

the gun from earlier.

"did you not like it?" you ask, buttoning your blouse.

you weren't exactly afraid. if you were to die Shigaraki would probably get mad at Dabi and that'd be funny to watch from hell.

"Nah, I enjoyed it, just liked to watch you squirm." he puts the gun back into the glovebox.

he was already dressed, his pants and boxers were put back on and his belt was draped lazily over his hips.

the moon was out indicating you'd been gone for a while.

you licked at your lips as Dabi began to go down the ramps back onto the main street.

"tonight was surely interesting," you say dryly.

"When have things ever been uninteresting with me around?" he joked.

things with Dabi were nice.

even if it was just meaningless and bored sex.

[midnightmoonkiss]

All For You.

Villain! Midoriya Izuku X Reader

Summary: You didn’t ask for this, and yet he gave you the same sick gift again and again. You hated him.

WARNINGS!: blood, death mentioned, dark themes

Category: Angst

Word Count: 1.7k

Masterlist

A/N: Was listening to “If I killed Someone For You” and.. I think it fits Villain Deku perfectly.

Just To Clarify:

You’re both adults

Izuku has OFA

He is not necessarily a yandere

You live alone for a reason

Frigid water poured steadily from the faucet as he rinsed his pale hands, turning the water crimson as it washed down the rusted drain of the medical sink.

The room was dark, the only light being a flickering candle that dripped white wax onto the concrete floor below.

The handle creaked as he turned off the water, a soft sigh slipping past his chapped lips.

Stray droplets broke the silence of the room.

It would have driven anyone else insane.

Dull green eyes stared into a mirror, the dirty surface reflecting his disheveled appearance. 

Blood stained his clothes, smudging against his freckled cheek.

His green hair was a mess, once slicked back with gel now all over the place from his habit of running his fingers through his hair when frustrated.

It certainly wasn’t the look he was going for.

Two knocks sounded on the other side of the metal door closing the room off, the noise echoing in the nearly empty room.

Inhaling deeply, the man fixed his hair up with wet digits best he could, only after he finished did he notice his forest green tie had splotches of blood on it as well.

He giggled to himself as he fixed it, tightening it up to his neck. 

It looked festive.

Turning around on his black leather heels, he looked over at the bloodied corpse tied up in the corner, all life completely drained from its opened, bloodshot eyes that were once filled with curiosity.

“You know…”

He whispered to it, 

“If you hadn’t been so cruel to my beloved, you wouldn’t look so fucking disgusting right now.”

His dress shoes clicked against the floor as he made his way to the large door, knocking thrice in a particular pattern.

It unlocked with a loud clink, and he was out of the room that once held two very alive people.

He didn't like soiling his clothes or getting his hands dirty, but whenever it came to you, he was willing to do anything.

Midoriya Izuku was a dangerous man, and he wasn’t afraid to bare his teeth and leave a lifeless body behind him.

He’d done it before, he’d do it again.

Though he was exhausted, he didn’t let it show. The dark circles under his eyes have been there since he was a child, they didn’t give away how he felt anymore.

“I’ll be heading out.” 

He stated, voice low and challenging, daring any of his subordinates to object.

“It’s raining…” One brave soul spoke up from the back,

“I know.” He could smell the asphalt from here, as well as hear the thumping of raindrops on the metal roof five floors above the basement they were currently in.

He took his time climbing up the metal stairs, pulling his black leather glove from the pockets on his slacks and slipping them on.

They prevented fingerprints, and they were quite warm.

..

..

..

The rain was unexpected, leaving you completely soaked all the way down to your shoes as you fumbled with your keys. 

You just wanted to get inside, undress, relax in a bath, and go the fuck to sleep.

Today was far more stressful than it had to be, considering your bitch of a boss decided to skip work today without telling anyone - leaving you in charge during the most hectic time of the month.

You were freezing and both mentally and physically exhausted, and what was pissing you off even more was how this was the third time you dropped your damn keys.

Your fingers were numb as you shivered, hard to grip the slippery keys.

You felt like crying victoriously when you finally got the door unlocked.

Slipping your dirty heels and soaked pantyhose off, you dragged your feet through the house, making your way to your room without the use of a light switch. You were too tired to fumble around for it.

Inside your room, you shrugged off your coat and unbutton your white blouse, making your way to your dresser for a fresh pair of clothes.

It was a Saturday, and knowing you had the day off tomorrow was like a sweet kiss.

 “(Y/N)..” 

You froze, body no longer shaking just from the cold.

That voice.. It haunted you.

Once so sweet and kind.. now all you could associate it with was the stench of gunpowder and the coolness of a blade.

You could see his silhouette in the mirror, his tall, dark figure beside the window you hadn't noticed was opened.

Bile burned your throat, you didn’t want to be near this man ever again. 

You were foolish to think you had escaped his reach.

“I’ve missed you..” He drawled, sincerity threading itself through his words as he took a step towards you.

“Really?” You huffed, “I don’t miss you at all.”

“I know you do,” 

He was behind you before you could blink, the frightening sparks of his quirk sending chills down your spine as they lit the room in a green glow for just a moment.

You were trapped against the dresser, one hand pressed against the mahogany wood, and the other slithering dangerously around your throat like a snake that could strangle you at any moment.

You gulped, breath stuttering as you fought to stay calm.

His chest was pressed to your back, his figure towering over you.

He always made you feel so small and helpless.

“You reek of blood..” The scent burned your nostrils.

Soaked green locks brushed against your cheek as he pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your perfume that drove him crazy.

He had purchased the same scent a while ago, his sheets were covered in it. He could never get enough

“And you smell delicious, my love.”

“Don't call me that-!” You spat through your teeth, venom in your voice only making him smile against your clammy flesh.

You reminded him of an angry mouse.

“And why’s that?” His voice was always so deep and dripping with authority. 

His thumb and forefinger gripped your chin, pulling your face to the side so that he could look into your mesmerizing (E/C) eyes. 

They were like a drug to him, heroin that he shot into his veins every time he had the pleasure of looking into them. 

Even if all they held was fear and disgust, they were still so beautiful to him.

You didn’t answer.

He sighed.

Looking down, you noticed the red blood on his collar, the sight making you gag. 

He no doubt had more on his person, and yet he was pressed against you. 

You wanted to throw up.

“Who was it.”

The question hung in the air, and he found himself not wanting to answer it.

“Midoriya, who was it.” Your voice shook, tears blurring your vision at the thought of him torturing another person because of you.

You tried so hard to keep away from people.

You cut contacts with all of your friends and moved cities to keep them safe - hell, you hadn’t even dated after what had happened with your last lover.

He ruined everything.

He stalked you like a predator, and you clearly had nowhere to run and hide.

You would forever be caged like a pet, and your own pathetic attempts to fight back only ever made him smile even wider.

That smile used to bring butterflies to your stomach, and now it just made you nauseous.

To him, it was a game. 

The game of seeing how long until you break and give into him.

He’d let you run ‘free,’ act as though you can fight against him.

He adored that spirit of yours, but he knew that it would break some day.

He couldn’t wait.

You’ll be completely his one day, not that you weren’t already.

Looking into his eyes, you somehow knew who it was.

Shame burned your veins.

Your boss..

Even if he was cruel to you, he had a family.

“Don’t cry, (Y/N)..” Izuku whispered, fingers falling from your chin to brush away your onslaught of tears, “I hate it when you cry..”

“You always make me cry, Izuku!” Sobbing out loud, you fought to get away from him, though it was useless you couldn't help yourself from trying.

“I hate you-! Mph!” 

Your outburst was silenced by his fingers, two digits knuckle deep in your mouth.

You choked around them, cringing at the taste of leather.

Sniffling, you breathed loudly through your snotty nose, tears stinging your cheeks.

“I don’t like it when you talk like that..” He muttered darkly, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

You were afraid of him. 

You always were.

 It was like there was an invisible knife pressed against your neck, slicing into your skin and daring you to try and speak again.

His forehead fell to your nape, and you stood there in silence for a while, the pitter patter of rain doing next to nothing to soothe your nerves.

It felt like time had stopped in the silence, like you were waiting for your own death.

“You’re soaked..” He commented, pulling away, saliva dripping down your chin as he finally pulled his fingers from your mouth.

“No..”

That made him chuckle, the sound making your skin prickle.

“You were going to take a bath, right?”

Despite being a murderous villain, Izuku still treated you with an ounce of respect, never once looking down at your exposed chest despite a large mirror allowing him to do so.

You hated how he was a gentleman despite everything he’s done and will continue to do.

“You should get out of these clothes.. You’re going to catch a cold.” 

And you hated how he fretted over you.

You hated everything about him.

The faint sound of sirens pierced the atmosphere, not too far away but getting louder and louder every second.

“I suppose I better take my leave, my love,”

“Don’t call me that..” You repeated meekly under your weak breath,

“I’ll see you again soon..” He turned around, pausing for a brief second, “but you won’t see me.”

He somehow always made your skin crawl without even having to touch you.

Biting your lip, you whipped around, ready to scream at him, only to see nothing.

He had already left.

And yet..

You knew he was never really gone.

You wished you never met him.

[fuxkingmarvel]

Party Favors

Summary: Cops are called after a noise complaint. The town’s sheriff arrives at your Halloween Party.

Pairing: Modern Day Lee Bodecker x Reader

Warnings: smut, oral sex (male), degrading language, manipulation, age gap (reader is 20)

Parents gone for the weekend.

What better way to celebrate Halloween? It’s a small town and your house was the ideal place for a party!

“Are you okay?” You questioned as your best friend pointed to the window.

“Hello... don’t tell me you’re hiding from your ex” you laughed trying to lighten the mood as she shook her head.

“No. Worse. I think someone called the cops” Your friend bit her lip, as she grabbed her purse.

“Look, I don’t need to get some ticket by the sheriff. I think I’m just going to head out before he comes.” You sighed lightly at your friends words.

Great! Leave me here with this mess, even though you helped plan the damn party.

Before you knew it, the siren of the sheriff’s cop car alerted everyone. Some of the less drunken students got the memo and began to scatter away. While others, truly didn’t give a damn.

You groaned lightly, peeking through the blinds of the window to see Sheriff Bodecker exit his car.

You watched as he walked with confidence towards your front door. Your eyes roaming him from top to bottom. He could definitely manhandle you if he wanted. Clearly, he was way too old for you.

But god, did he look good in a uniform.

“We meet again, Miss Y/N. You know I thought after your first year in college, you would have learned your lesson” Bodecker explained but the only thing you could concentrate on was the way his tongue played with the toothpick in his mouth.

Your eyes fixacted on the other ways he could put his tongue into use.

“Y/N”

You try to hide your blush before meeting his eyes. “Sorry Sheriff... What’s the problem here?” You question shyly, your arms crossed as you lean against your front door.

He licked his lips, his eyes roaming your body lingering a little too long on your breasts. Maybe that was your fault as you decided to dress up as a sexy devil, the outfit exentuating your breasts dangerously so.

He chuckles dramatically. “You drunk, darlin’... because that’s a stupid question if you ask me”. You choke on his words, your face feeling hot.

“Got a noise complaint. It is Halloween after all.” Lee casually states, stepping in close as he tries to peek into your house. His hands press on your hips and you could smell his cologne.

“Mind if I check the premise” He raises an eyebrow. “Unless you’re hiding something from me...” You shake your head, widening your door, as your house is now empty. The last stranglers leaving through the back door.

Lee steps inside. Empty red cups carelessly thrown on the rug and table. Busted beer cars on the side. Even accessories from people’s outfits are on the floor. He shakes his head as he kicks the can.

“Quite some party you had, darlin” You cross your legs from the way his new nickname for you, rolls off his tongue.

“Now, where is he?” You furrow your eyebrows, watching Lee’s movements as he enters the kitchen. He places his sheriff hat on the counter. You follow behind him.

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend.”

You start to clean up the cans off the floor. Embarrassed by the mess from the party. “In my dreams” you simply state, laughing nervously as you dump the cans into a garbage bag.

Lee walks behind you, trapping you between the kitchen counter. He lifts your chin up, his blue eyes boring into yours. Goosebumps shooting up on your skin.

“Now, don’t lie to me” his voice becomes lower and rougher. “Someone has to be takin’ good care of this cunt. Maybe Arvin Russell... he’s about your age” You gasp at his words, your body becoming tense as you fingers wrap around the marbel counter.

Lee spreads your thighs in an instant, his slight hard on throbbing against you.

“I leave you with too many warnings. I think this time, you return the favor” he smirks slyly, his thumb stroking your cheek and then your lips. You open your mouth slightly and Lee pushes his thumb inside. Your tongue swirling around him as his eyebrows jump up in suprise and a smirk grows on your face.

You weren’t expecting this for the night, but you craved Bodecker for the longest.

Always imagined how he tasted, how good he was in bed. Lee was right. He gave you multiple warnings throughout your college years. Your friends stating the Sheriff had a weird secret obsession with you.

“He’s a sad lonely fuck, Y/N! His wife left him and now he probably jerks off into Pepsi Cups to the thought of you!” You shook your head and covered your ears. “Guys stop! You don’t know what you’re talking about” Your friends scoffed at your foolishness.

Lee palms himself lightly as you suck on his thumb. Before you knew it, you were popping off his thumb and ready to suck something bigger. You bit your lip in hesitation before sinking down on the hardwood floor. The outline of his cock pushing against his trousers.

“Don’t act like you didn’t want this for the longest. I see the way you look at me. Come on, take out my cock, darlin. Play with it.” He breaths in deeply as his hands find their way through your hair.

You fumble with his zipper before pulling him out, your eyes widening at the size. Holy shit... Lee’s eyes darken, grabbing his cock and dragging it against your lips before he uses his cock to slap your cheek. You moan in ecstasy as His pre-cum smears on your lips. You lick your lips before gently sucking on his tip.

Lee groans roughly before pushing himself in your mouth. You whimper lightly as his hand grips your hair pulling it into a makeshift ponytail.

It felt good but so wrong. Your knees digging into your floor as you gave a blowjob to your Town’s sheriff. Nevertheless, you pumped the rest of his shaft but Lee wanted more. He starts finding a frantic rythm causing you to gag.

“Fuck—! You like my big cock.. better than these college boys! Yeah, it is!” He praised thrusting in and out of your mouth as he threw his head back in pleasure. “Just like that, taking my cock like a good little whore” His cock hitting the back of your throat with each thrust, as tears ran down your eyes.

“I always knew you were good for something darlin’, gunna cum in that pretty mouth and you’re going to fuckin’ swallow it all” You whimpered at his words. Your mouth being used as his personal fuck toy.

He rolled his eyes back getting closer to his release before pulling out of you. Your appearance was messy. Mascara running down your face. Your saliva and his pre-cum connecting from your lips to his cock. You looked up at him panting softly, your thighs rubbing against yourself wishing they could get their own release.

“Stick your tongue out, gunna paint your mouth and face” he spat, as he pumped himself fast you opened your mouth fully.

“Fuck— I’m cumming!” His release falling onto your tongue and face. You swallowed him all, even dragging your fingers across your cheeks and sucking on any last remnants of his cum.

You stood up quickly, your nails raking over his body. You wanted more. Kiss him. Have him touch you.

Anything.

Lee stroked your cheek lazily, looking at you with lustful eyes.

“My turn?” You dared to ask, tilting your head as you gave him innocent eyes. You leaned in to kiss him but he pushed you back by your hips.

“What—?”

“This is your punishment, darlin” he put his half softening cock back into his boxers, lifting up his trousers and zipping himself up. He grabbed his sherrif hat from the counter and placed it on his head. You whined lightly at his actions following him like a little puppy.

“That’s not fair-! You can’t just—“ you huffed dramatically. Your hormones spiking up with each move.

“Shit, don’t be so dramatic” he slapped your ass roughly before casually heading to your living room. You gasped stopping in your tracks. His cocky attitude peeking through.

“Now I don’t wanna hear another complaint, or Sheriff Bodecker will have to come back again and teach you another lesson.”

“Oh— And Happy Halloween.” He winked at you before striding out your house like nothing had ever happened.

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 16 - An Absolution

Masterlist; Chapter 15

Summary: You and Neil go on your little night out in Oslo after the Freeport mission. As the night unfolds, you get closer than ever.

Warnings: 18+ (stuff happens you know); swearing.

Author’s Notes: Okay so I’m terrified but I had to give you this one already because I’m proud done before the schedule deadline. I loved writing some parts so hope you will enjoy! Feedback is a life-saver so please leave me some? Anyways, enjoy! (and I go hide or sth)

The moment you opened your eyes, you knew that it was going to be a tough day. That ever so helpful, sabotaging voice was back. And it was pissed off at you for being reckless, stupid, and naïve, among other things. In short, you had regrets about everything that happened. Once again, it all boiled down to your deeply ingrained fear of losing people important to you. Because now that Neil undoubtedly noticed how responsive you were to everything he did, there was no pretending that you were not interested. Another step was admitting the feelings you had. And the next one after that was him leaving you for someone better, right? Well, your brain was sure about that.

You groaned and contemplated staying in bed for the rest of the day, avoiding everyone and everything when your phone rang. Interesting. You sat up and picked it up, frowning at the name on the screen. The only person who you both did not want to speak to and also missed already. Sighing, you pressed the green button:

“Morning” Neil sounded like he just woke up as well.

“Hi” you mumbled, anxiously picking on the skin around your fingernails “We’ve never done this before… morning phone calls, I mean,” you noticed.

“I know, but I wanted to check if you’re alright… after everything��� tense and nervous Neil was still new to you.

“Yeah, is all fine” you hated lying, but then maybe this time truth would not do you any good.

But, of course, he caught it.

“Pardon me, but I’m not convinced”

You fell back onto the pillows. Caught in the act.

“Okay, you got me” admitting felt like another lost battle.

“I know you a bit better than you’re giving me credit for” he got that right, for sure “So? You know I won’t let it go until you tell me”

Damn him and that selfless heart. You took a deep breath:

“I was thinking... maybe it’s best we don’t mention what happened ever again” you finished the sentence and desperately wished you had this conversation face to face.

He took a little longer to respond, only fueling those wishes.

“Why?” the confusion was almost as bad as the regrets spilling from your heart.

Almost.

“I don’t know,” you sighed heavily, feeling worse with every sentence “Suppose I’m worried it will fuck everything up, and I don’t want that. I want this… us… to work somehow”

That was not exactly what you wanted to say. Another failure.

“If that’s what you want, then sure” you could tell that he only agreed to placate you.

And maybe because he too was surprised by your unexpected admission.

“I just want you to know that for me, it wasn’t a mistake. I did what I wanted to do” he added, making your heart stumble wildly as it always did.

Brilliant.

“Okay... but for the sake of keeping tonight less awkward... let’s not mention it. Please?”

“Your wish is my command” despite yourself, you smiled at that comment, “I’ll pick you up around 6?”

“Sounds good” you glanced at the bedside clock; still ages left for you to panic “Thank you, Neil. You’re too good for me” 

“Well, there’s reasons for that so…” it was that nervous half-smile, you could bet on it “Just don’t stand me up tonight”

The ridiculous idea made you laugh, feeling some tension ease.

“Could never”

*** You managed to get as far as getting up, dressing up, and having instant coffee from the little complimentary set in the hotel room, before you heard a knock on the door. Intrigued, you opened it to reveal Mahir stood on the doorstep, with two coffee cups in hands. A blessing.

“Thought we could have a little chat since I’m leaving later” he explained when you let him in.

“Sounds good. And thank you for that coffee, the shit here isn’t drinkable” to prove the point, you flushed the remains of the brown liquid down the bathroom sink.

“Cheers, my treat” jokingly, you raised a toast with the paper cups and settled onto the armchairs “So, what’s your plan?” he asked after a short comfortable silence.

“I’ll be going back to London tomorrow afternoon. And after that, we’ll see” you shrugged “Hopefully I’ll get some heads up about the upcoming events”

You mentioned the texts from TP to Mahir to explain how you were in the possession of the plans and blueprints in advance of the actual news. He took it without any further questions for which you were grateful.

“What you did last night at the airport…” he met your gaze seriously, and you frowned “That was incredibly brave but also hellishly stupid” his sheepish grin made you laugh.

“Oh, I know. I just thought it had to work out somehow… and if not…” you shrugged, hoping he will understand all that you are not saying.

It was enough that you thought about it. For a split second then, and for hours over the night. That same question: what if you jumped too late? For some reason, an image of those concerned blue eyes was tied to it.

“It’s good to be a little reckless in this business. Just try to stay alive though” Mahir reached out to tap you on the shoulder “I quite like you. And I know that there are people who would suffer if anything happened to you” you did not like the knowing look in his eyes.

“Thanks. I’ll do my best”

Then you steered onto more casual topics concerning your past and experience. He was especially curious about how you got to have such a good eye for guns. Later, you expected he was trying to distract you before he was about to drop the real question of the conversation. You were finishing the lukewarm coffee when he asked:

“So… you and Neil?” the casual tone made you choke on the last drop.

You coughed frantically for a whole minute, with Mahir watching, amused. When you could breathe again, you managed to choke out:

“Whatever do you mean?” you placed the cup back on the table and pretended to be perplexed.

It was not working.

“Oh, come on. You might be a spy, but you’re a shit liar. And all that I’ve seen these few days have been rather obvious” he was enjoying your startled expression “Don’t give me that deer stuck in the headlights stare, hun” at the nickname, you nearly choked on your own saliva.

Again.

“Hun?” everything was better than answering the question.

“You’re missing the point” Mahir leaned back, watching you coolly.

You have lost.

“What gave it away?”

“Let me think…” he tapped his temple “Those longing looks? The bloody dancing when you both looked like the happiest people alive? Or last night, when I’m pretty sure something happened in that bathroom” he narrowed his eyes, studying you intensely.

Without a single doubt, the crimson shade on your cheeks was the answer he was looking for.

“You’re perceptive,” you noticed, staring at the carpet.

“It pays to be in our profession,” Mahir noticed your increasing discomfort, and he added, „Don’t worry, I won’t snitch on you to TP”

“How gracious” you raised your head then and gave him a weary smile.

“Have fun tonight. And stay safe,” he winked, making you speechless again.

“Why do I feel like you’re insinuating something there…” you arched one eyebrow, feigning indifference.

“It’s quite easy to piece together. You’re both staying in Oslo for one more free night… and the rest is-”

“Silence. I know,” you cut him off sharply and glared.

Mahir only laughed in response.

*** It turned out that settling on an outfit for the ‘not-quite date’ was a difficult task. It took you embarrassingly long, and you only decided because it was already a little late. A simple buttoned shirt and skirt had to do. It was a question of an eternal internal battle between: ‘it’s just Neil; who cares’ and ‘it’s Neil; it matters a lot’. The final choice, therefore, was as close to balance between those two states as you could manage. You nearly tripped on the stairs down to the lobby when you spotted him. He was casually waiting, with his back against the wall, dressed in the usual suit trousers and a striped shirt. The new addition was a dark grey coat instead of a suit jacket. And that damned green scarf loosely wrapped around his neck. The whole outfit was so Neil that your heart stumbled upon the sight. When he looked up and met your wandering gaze, he smiled, somewhat nervously. So, it was not just you…

“Evening,” he tipped his head in a greeting when you joined him.

“Hey,” you eyed him again, “Shall we…?”

“After you, miss,” he extended his hand chivalrously, and you rolled your eyes.

He surprised you by offering his arm once you stepped outside. After a small moment of hesitation, you took it, letting yourself snuggle closer to him. You quite liked the coat already.

“How was your day?” he was the one to break the silence.

“Boring, to be honest,” you frowned “Just chatted with Mahir for a little bit and then explored the centre. You?” looking up at him, you took a moment to admire his profile.

Rather pathetic.

“Talked to TP for a while. He’s more open with me now, and I got to admit it makes everything easier” you appreciated the honesty “And then went out to get us a place for tonight” he added, smiling at your brightly.

“What did you tell TP?” you asked, curiosity not letting you let go.

“That I’m about to have some fun in town” Neil shrugged.

He was leading you with a purpose and yet matching the long strides to yours, so you did not have to rush. It was thoughtfulness like this that made it hard not to fall for him.

“Fun?” you raised one eyebrow, intrigued by his choice of words.

“You’re that no matter what we do” his grin widened, and he leaned in to kiss you on the temple quickly.

It took that additional brain cell not to walk into the next person on your path.

“So… you’re about to have me?” you were not sure where that thought came from.

But seeing the way his eyes widened for a split second was definitely worth it.

“I really did not think through that sentence, did I?” he shook his head slightly, making you laugh at the cute image “Though I won’t complain if I end up having you” he added and met your gaze purposefully.

Oh, right. You did expect that, without a doubt. And yet, his openness took you by surprise.

“Smooth save there”

Neil only smiled and inhaled a large haul of the chilly air. His cheeks and tips of the ears were slightly reddened, making for an incredibly adorable sight. You observed him for a second longer before turning to check where you were heading. It looked like he went for a place near the harbour where most places were bustling with activity. Somehow you knew that he would choose well and somewhere that would allow you to talk a little more. You would be lying if you did not admit that you went over some questions concerning his past that you wanted to ask. Because if not when you nearly gave him everything, then when?

Distracting the thoughts, you gave him a once-over and noticed:

“Look at you, all dressed up to the nines. You even smoothed your hair I’m shocked” you smiled when he looked at you.

The happy sparks in his eyes were good enough to excuse anything.

“Well, I decided that you can be the one to ruffle it however you want” to test his statement, you gently brushed one stray lock from his forehead “As for the rest... I had to somehow remind you what you can have” he adjusted the scarf, making you see the dark mark on the side of his neck.

There we go. You swallowed hard, blocking the flood of images and feelings. When you were undressing for a shower before going out, you noticed what he did to you. All those bruises marking the space between your neck and shoulder. Conveniently enough to be hidden by clothes, and yet there to haunt you whenever you looked in the mirror. You had a feeling that was intentional.

“Then it is this kind of a night...” you mused aloud.

In response, Neil made sure to slide down the arm he offered you and intertwine your fingers. It seemed like you could not be walking any closer to each other without putting on straight-up PDA.

“That will depend on us. However, after yesterday... I wouldn’t be surprised” he looked down at you with a smirk and playfulness in his eyes.

Even though you expected him to mention it, despite your pleas, it felt like a light punch in the gut. That is if a punch could make one slightly aroused.

“Thought we agreed not to talk about it” you ignored the feeling, chiding him.

That was about to bite you in the ass, so to speak.

“And we’re not. Unless we went onto the topic of our dreams from last night or something”

It was a mistake to meet his gaze then. With slightly darkened pupils, a self-satisfied smile, and clenched jaw, you knew that he was not joking. You blushed, suddenly relieved that you forgot any dreams you might have had.

“Neil...” you aimed for a warning, but it came out rather like a weak protest.

“Yes, darling?” the innocent expression was back to haunt you.

“Do you want that slap I promised earlier?”

He stopped, and you were forced to stare up at him with the sternest glare you could manage. Neil bit his lip, undoubtedly preparing to drop a bombshell like no other. You braced yourself, tightening the grip on his hand.

“Maybe save it for later. I quite like a little bit of spice like that when it comes to the real deal” the combination of the sly grin and predatory look in his eyes perfected the delivery.

And then he pointed at the building you stopped in front of as though nothing happened.

“This is it” he announced and turned to you.

From the way he looked at you, you knew that the expression on your face must have been quite a sight. You blinked once, shaking off the thoughts and ideas. Not the time.

“Brilliant” smiling dryly, you let him lead you through the door.

You stopped at the concierge desk and let Neil do the talking.

“How can I help you, sir?” the smiley clerk eyed you both quickly.

You did wonder what she saw.

“I’ve got a reservation under James Farrow” your eyes widened at the identity he used.

It was as though the New York mission was important to him if he was keen enough to reference it like that. Now that was an intriguing thought.

“Mr. Farrow and wife, yes?” the lady looked up, happily and expectantly.

It felt as though the ground has moved under your feet, and you were about to fall if it was not for the steady hand gripping yours. Wife?! He was surely getting slapped for that.

“Yes,” Neil completely ignored your wild gaze.

Only once you have been sat at the table in the corner of the cosy yet posh establishment you could give voice to the mess of thoughts in your head:

“Seriously?” that was all you could manage, but he understood.

And, in response, smiled as though it was nothing. Like you should have expected it. You wondered if he is ever going to stop surprising you.

“It was easier that way” he dragged a hand through his hair, shrugging “And, I mean... would it be so bad to be my wife?” the way his eyes sparkled hopefully was enough to give you heart palpitations.

“Allow me not to answer this yet” you gave him a stern look and softened it with a smirk.

It was too easy to be with him like this.

“I’ll wait patiently then. Now, what would my lovely wife want to drink?” he opened the wine menu with a flourish.

And then was forced to order something for the table as you were too busy dying of laughter for the next ten minutes. You calmed down enough to comment on his food choice for the evening – Norwegian mountain trout with fennel cream, petit pois, and hollandaise sauce.

“Are you always this… posh?” you scrunched up your nose, observing him intently.

He grinned at the sight and raised his hands in defence.

“I wouldn’t say I’m posh… More like a man of refined taste,” you watched as he undid another button on his shirt, “Which anyone can see once they look at you” the punchline came with the addition of a hand covering yours on the table.

You blushed and met his soft gaze, using the opportunity to show him how comments like that made you feel. You could tell that the sudden outpouring of affection he saw in your eyes was a shock because his hold on your hand tightened, and his cheeks turned crimson, just slightly. You would have missed it; have you not been staring at him shamelessly. Neil composed himself after a short moment and asked:

“So… what do you want to talk about?” he kept on gently running his thumb over your knuckles.

Might as well keep up the married couple act.

This is how you started the conversation regarding your childhoods, families, and what you were like growing up. You did not expect to learn that Neil grew up in a most normal middle-class house in Richmond Park, but then again, you did not know what else you would consider believable. Growing up, his main source of joy were books and Labrador Retriever named Charlie (“Charlie? That’s a bit too boring, even for you” “What would you prefer? Theodore or Archibald?”). You could both relate to the pains of a boring childhood, filled with dreams of doing something crucial for the world but then not knowing what that could be. Only, where Neil decided to study Physics (despite the wishes of his mundane parents who would rather he did something more palpable like architecture or law; you snickered at that), you went for a more abstract route of international relations and civil safety. Another revelation was the fact that despite your assumptions he was never the popular kid or a leader of any sort as he was much more comfortable in the background of things. Always thinking, listening, analysing but taking his time to voice any opinions and solutions he came to. You realized that this was perhaps the reason why he understood you so well. Overall, the conversation was both enlightening and reassuring, and, by the end of it, you felt like somehow you loved him even more. Or maybe that was due to the bottle of wine you had.

*** Once you were done with dinner, Neil suggested moving to a nearby bar for drinks. It was more than tempting, and so, not long after, you found yourself sat on the bar stools, each with a drink, deep in conversation. As the night progressed, you got more open, either drifting onto the flirty territory or breaching candid topics you would otherwise never consider.

You did not know when exactly you sat that close to each other without looking too cosy. Or when his hand landed on your knee, just under the hem of your knee socks, and why it somehow felt good. The more time passed, you only got more certain that this was, in fact, a date. And you were surprisingly fine with it. Using the natural break in your conversation, you took a longer sip of the drink and asked:

“So, is this how it usually goes?” you met his gaze with disinterest “Invite them for a drink, let your hands wander a little…” you glanced at his hand, just when he purposefully moved it upwards onto your bare thigh below the skirt’s edge.

Bloody hell. You were not sure that lightheaded feeling could be all blamed on the alcohol. Swallowing, you continued the assumption. If anything, the intense look in those blue eyes was encouraging.

“And then back to the hotel room for more?” you bit your lip and swirled the straw in vodka coke.

The warm touch felt rather nice. You glanced around, wondering if such behaviour would not be deemed ‘indecent’. But all you saw was a knowing smirk from the man sat at the nearby table. Right… Neil’s voice and his thumb running over your skin in a soothing motion brought you back to the present moment.

“It’s been a while since anything like that happened,” he noticed, looking at you thoughtfully.

You wanted to trust him on that, but…

“I don’t believe you,” you stared at him, using the opportunity to admire.

With the slightly dimmed lights, his features stood out more. All the sharp angles in his face made him resemble a classical sculpture. The hair almost looked golden. Nothing but beauty. You could tell that others noticed that too, curiously watching you both from time to time. You had no illusions that it was you they were drawn to. And yet, he was staring at you as though you were the most important person in his universe. It was one of those feelings that always took your breath away. Distractedly, you brushed your hand over his hair again, using the privileges he gave you. Tugging on one strand, you enjoyed the passing darkness in his eyes. That hair thing he clearly had going ought to be explored later, you mused.

“Why? Because I’m so irresistible?” he smirked smugly and straightened his back.

Despite the annoyance, you grinned. The charm was undoubtedly working. As always.

“Because I see the way almost everyone looks at you. Like they wanted to stake their claim right here and now” you looked around pointedly, drawing his attention to the small audience.

Catching the eye of one nosey woman, who was clearly eavesdropping on your conversation, you winked. You saw her ogle Neil earlier, and it was more than annoying. Surely, a little jealousy never hurt anyone.

“Are you speaking from experience there?” the grin got wider as he took in your irked expression „Think you’re forgetting the other important factor, which is my own desire for anything like that” he arched one eyebrow and picked up the drink.

“And there’s been none recently?”

That was a risky question, and yet one that you had to ask. Especially remembering the way he was looking at you the previous night. Was it what you hoped it was…?

“You were there last night, so you know best...” he dropped his voice to add, “But I’m still working on getting anywhere with that” to prove a point, he slid his hand higher up your thigh.

You shivered in response, earning a little raspy laugh from him. To put things simply, you were slowly feeling the effects of his actions and words. And it was rather bothering.

“Is it worth it?” shaking off the moment, you reached for more alcohol.

“Absolutely” with his free hand, Neil tucked the hair behind your ear, brushing your cheek gently.

Sometimes you marvelled at how he could be so gentle and yet so seductive at the same time. It was like that during your little bathroom incident, as you came to call it. And that made you wonder whether he would be like that with you if you went even further? Neil eyed you curiously as you realized you were staring. Again.

“Any good thoughts there?” he tapped your temple with a pointer finger.

You blushed a deep crimson. Ever so observant. The way his eyes lit up knowingly made you think he could even read your mind at this point.

“Ah, I see,” he grinned smugly “Well, if you ever want to share... I’m here”

You just stared, unable to express anything you felt. His hand rested on your midthigh with fingers absentmindedly stroking the skin. The look in his eyes made your mind wander. Feeling overwhelmed with Neil, you looked for help in the wood pores on the bar counter. But he wanted to lead that strange conversation to its end. One that he must have intended.

“Usually, I’d start with a date. Maybe some touching here and there to let them know I’m interested” you could feel his analytical gaze “I’m not a brute. First, I’d seduce you before I could have you” the invasive hand retraced back to your knee.

Later, you wondered whether it was the alcohol, his touch, or something else entirely that made you blurt out the truth that he was not supposed to know. Yet or ever.

“You already do”

Realising what you just said, you snapped your head up, meeting Neil’s perplexed gaze. He was not expecting that. Neither were you.

“What?” his jaw fell slack, making for a sight that would be adorable if not for your panic.

“What?” parroting him you hid your face in your hands.

He took a long pause, composing himself because the next time he spoke, the confusion was gone.

“Interesting”

“I can’t blame that on the drink, can I?” you took a deep breath and looked at him again.

The darkness and dawning realization in his blue eyes took you by surprise.

“I’d rather you didn’t” that was the serious Neil you did not know too well.

You watched as he finished the drink, his second one, in one go and faced you again. Your unexpected confession was hanging over you, threatening with awkwardness. But, perhaps most remarkably of all, you were saved by the music streaming from the overhead speaker. At first, you did not catch it, the gentle melody escaping your panicking mind. Neil, though, naturally recognized it. His eyes lit up, and he started humming, all the while looking at you pointedly. Before you knew, he began singing:

‘She's taken my heart

But she doesn't know what she's done’

The determined gaze and his beautiful voice made your heart stumble. Fucking hell. Who knew that of all things, Neil pretending to be Patrick Swayze was going to be the one to finally break you? He was, indeed, relentless.

‘Just a fool to believe I have anything she needs She's like the wind’

He got louder near the end of the chorus, causing many heads to turn in your direction. You watched in horror as he opened his mouth to pick up the next stanza. Using the only power you knew you had, you closed the gap and covered his lips with yours in a small kiss. The surprised sound he made assured you that was the right decision. You let him kiss you back gently and then leaned back, taking in his dazed expression.

“What was that for?” he licked his lips unconsciously, and you blushed despite yourself.

“Just wanted you to shut up and stop embarrassing me” you shrugged, ignoring the fact that even more people were looking at you now.

“Fair enough,” he grinned, taking one of your hands in his.

You wondered when did hand holding become such an essential thing between you. Suddenly you wanted nothing but to be with him alone somewhere. Without the intrigued audience, judging your every move and looking at Neil as though he was the most spectacular sight they ever saw.

“Anyways... should we get going? It’s late, and…” you gestured vaguely, hoping he will give in.

But it seemed like he was on top of his game.

“Is that your way of getting me to come back with you? Because, honestly, you just have to ask, and I’ll do anything” he raised your hand, kissing it in the gentlemanly fashion.

Only you were pretty sure gentlemen did not look at you like that normally. Slowly showing you with gaze alone what going back together meant. You shuddered.

“I’ll note that for future reference. Now come on” you stood up, taking a moment to get used to the effects of those two drinks.

“You’re quite eager,” he noticed but stood up anyway, straightening the long legs that always caught your attention.

“Have you seen yourself?” you retorted, eyes roaming over his body and stopping on his face.

“Blimey... never thought I’d see the day” Neil smirked, but you knew that he was surprised by the honesty “Last night I must’ve hit all the right spots for you” he tried to mask it by distracting you with the best weapon.

But even his hand suddenly wrapping around your waist was not enough to stop the response you prepared for this very moment.

“You definitely did...try” you shot back, taking pleasure in the affronted expression “Shall we? Maybe tonight you’ll do better” tugging on your joined hands, you took a step towards the exit.

The challenging grin was a good enough indicator of his thoughts on the matter.

*** You were not sure how he managed to convince you to come back to his hotel. Somehow, at that moment, with the maelstrom of feelings and emotions in your head, it did not matter that TP was right next door. Or that going back together was a clear signal concerning the ending of the date, something you did not know you were ready for. But once Neil opened his hotel room door and led you inside, nothing much mattered anymore. You had what you wanted: him yours alone without any spectators.

You laughed when he started taking off your coat as a doorman does in all those period dramas:

“Maybe it’s time to drop that gentlemanly act?” you suggested when he succeeded and went to hang both of your coats on the hooks.

“Why?” Neil came back still wearing that scarf that you could not get out of your head “Would you rather I jumped you the moment we came in?”

Following the instincts, you closed the gap to him and started unwrapping the green material from around his neck, all the while making sure you maintained eye contact. He swallowed hard at your proximity. Good sign.

“I don’t know… But I do hope you’ve got a plan” once you have taken off his scarf, you threw it to the side “Now that you’ve lured me in here” searching his eyes, you placed your hand on his shoulder, caressing the newly exposed neck.

Neil’s eyes darkened, and pupils dilated. He placed both of his hands on your waist and leaned in to whisper:

“I was hoping this will happen, so of course… I’ve got some ideas” his lips brushed over your throat.

You could not tell what was stronger, the alcohol intoxication or overwhelming infatuation that you felt.

“Feel free to show me what you’ve got in mind” getting to the end of that sentence was a challenge.

Especially with the fact that Neil started kissing your neck and throat, slowly guiding you with his hands on your hips. Before you knew, the backs of your legs hit the edge of the bed, and he pushed you onto the mattress. He took a moment to take in the image before slowly lowering himself down to hover over you, leaning on his forearms, pinning you down. His nose brushed against yours, breaths mingling as you inhaled, calming down your racing heart. Despite being this close to him many times before, this one felt different. Maybe because you knew where it is likely to lead you…

“For starters, I’d really like to kiss you right now” Neil broke the silence and leaned in.

As much as it was tempting, you didn’t want to give in just yet. The confidence you found during the course of the night was a welcomed help in moments like this. You turned your head sideways, making him kiss you on the cheek. The little offended sound he made woke up the butterflies in your stomach.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit forward? For a first date?” you grinned upon his slightly confused expression.

Letting out a long breath, you reached out to comb a hand through his hair. Bringing him closer again so that you could drag your tongue along his lower lip. It worked if his slurred speech was anything to go by.

“This really isn’t our first date,” he groaned when you tugged on the strands with more force.

Being in power was definitely exhilarating.

“It, kind of, is” you smirked, enjoying his unfocused eyes that roamed across your face.

“Then I, kind of, want to kiss you”

He leaned in, and this time you let him capture your lips in a hungry kiss. It was always too easy to get lost in Neil in those moments. Your hands alternated between tugging on his hair and touching the back of his neck just to feel his bare skin. You wanted to get him out of that shirt as soon as possible. It was a matter of urgency for reasons unknown.

When you broke the contact, both gasping for breath, you used the hand tangled in his hair to pull him down so that he was lying on top of you. Neil glanced up at you with a surprised smile.

“Pretty sure there are better ways of making me sleep with you,” he noticed, showing that offensive tongue poking from between the pink, slightly swollen lips.

Now that was torture.

“Who said anything about that” you crashed your lips against his just because he was there using a break in the sentence for that very purpose “I just wanted to have you at my mercy for once”

How about that. You enjoyed the slight surprise in his eyes, feeling a surge of inspiration. Quickly, you hooked one of your legs over his hip, using it as leverage to switch, making him become the one pinned underneath. The shock on his face was palpable. You took in the parted lips, frown visible on the forehead and perplexed gaze. It only took him approximately 30 seconds to shake it off. Grinning devilishly, he ran his hands alongside your sides, using the new freedom of movement. When he tugged your shirt from the waistband of your skirt and slipped his hand underneath the material, you wondered whether it was not a mistake on your side.

“Trust me I’m always at your mercy. Even if it doesn’t seem so” his eyes glimmered darkly, adding weight to the sentence and making breath hitch in your throat.

From this position, you could see every little detail on his face. The long eyelashes framing dark blue eyes. The adorable cleft underneath his lower lip. The nose that you always wanted to kiss the tip of. Your Neil. Leaning on one side, you traced your finger on the outline of the sharp jaw and cheekbones. His eyes were focused on your face, enthralled with how focused you were on him.

“You’re good at hiding it then,” you noticed, enjoying the way he exhaled when you brushed your thumb along his lips.

“So are you” he smiled knowingly, his hands exploring your upper body just like the previous night.

You shivered when he cupped one of your breasts through the material of the bra. One by one, the doubts were disappearing. Looking down at him, with hair ruffled beyond compare, cheeks flushed, and eyes darker than you have ever seen them before, you felt lightheaded with love. He really could be yours. Feeling like at any moment, you were likely to tell him something that could destroy the careless moment, you leaned in and began the meticulous exploration of his throat and neck. You peppered the skin with kisses and bites, sucking on the sharp edges of his jaw, making him gasp and curse. Every sound he made was like a confirmation of your inmost hopes and desires. And the way he was reacting to everything you did began to build up the heat in your lower belly again. This time the feeling was rather expected. You felt like the further you get, the harder it will be to be ignored.

As though Neil knew exactly what was going on in your mind, he spread his legs and lifted you so that you were straddling his lap before he sat up, facing you. Taking in the effects of your exploration, you blushed. You have more than likely ruined his neck with bruises and marks there were beginning to show up on the skin. You could only hope he would not mind.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever given me so much attention” Neil met your gaze with admiration “I can’t help but wonder if that’s just a promise of how other things would look like with you” his hands retracted from underneath your shirt and started toying with the buttons.

You knew that it was his way of checking if you wanted to progress further. Feeling the pulse between your legs grow stronger, you knew the answer. Everything was too easy with him. You undid the two buttons on his shirt and replied:

“Maybe you’ll be able to test this theory tonight...” trailing off, you met his gaze purposefully, giving him time to catch the implication.

It did not take long. His hands stopped any movement, and he just stared. Then his brow furrowed again, and he cupped your cheek gently.

“Are you... do you want to? Because you don’t need to force yourself with me” the genuine concern and fondness in his gaze made your heart stumble.

You did not deserve him.

“I know, but I think I might actually... be ready” you whispered, giving in to the sudden tender moment and smiled lightly.

“What changed?” Neil brushed the hair away from your eyes.

You could tell that he really wanted to know. And while it was hard to pinpoint an exact reason, you gave him a piece of your mind. He already had everything else.

“Last night you... the way you looked at me, the way we touched... it’s never been like this with anyone” you stumbled over the sentence “And I want to know if... maybe it’s how...” you gave up, but he nodded anyway.

He always understood.

“Kiss me again” it was the only response you really needed, gladly accepting the request.

Straddling his lap, kissing to the point of breathlessness, you already felt as though you were nearing that point when relief was necessary. But before you could think about seeking it out, you had to get rid of that disrespectful shirt of his. Hurriedly you undid the buttons one by one, ignoring the wanting in his eyes. You only stopped when Neil started kissing your neck, making you gasp with the perfectly chosen spots. He knew you too well, expertly using all the tricks that were bound to work. Alternating between kissing, biting, and licking your skin, you knew that it was his way of giving back the pleasure. Despite that distraction, you nearly succeeded when he spoke again:

“Nice of you to wear a button-up” his long fingers went back to toying with the material.

“Why?” you gave out a triumphant sound when that final button was dealt with.

“Because I like being able to return the favour”

The amusement in his eyes was another reason to slide down the article down his arms and then throw it to the side. You have seen him like this before, and yet your jaw fell slack. His arms and chest were as close to perfection as you could imagine. Suddenly, you were overcome with shyness as you ran your fingers over his chest and stomach, feeling the muscles and various scars. Including a very familiar one on his side. It was almost unreal to think that someone like him could be this interested in you. And yet… Feeling him watch your exploration, you met his gaze:

“Do you like what you see?” with how close you were, you felt like you were drowning in his eyes with every prolonged contact.

“You’re beautiful” admitting it felt like a relief.

He finished undoing the buttons on your shirt, and you let him take it off.

“No one’s ever called me that” Neil watched you curiously with a gentle smile.

“Then they all must be blind”

You embraced him tightly, relishing the feel of skin on skin contact you craved so badly. Your warm bodies fit perfectly as you rested your head in the crook of his neck, hands exploring the skin of his back. It was as close as you could get, but it was not enough. You needed him closer. Ideally becoming a part of you in every way possible. The thought made you remember about the need you tried to put aside for the moment. But it was still there. The pulse between your thighs and the ache deep within your core were the main reminders of its existence. Giving in to the feeling, you ground your hips down onto his thigh, but it was not enough. It could never be enough given how much you wanted him. Neil noticed what you were trying to do. He leaned back and met your gaze. You knew that he was likely to see the unmeasurable longing there. You were unable to hide it anymore. Tentatively, his hands unzipped the skirt, and you shifted so that it could be dropped onto the floor as well. You blushed when you realized what position you found yourself in, sat on Neil’s lap in only your underwear. More than likely soaking through your panties just because of how he was making you feel. But, as usual, Neil had an answer to those panicked thoughts…

“It’s okay” meeting your wild gaze, he tilted your chin “You’re perfect, don’t let your brain tell you otherwise” he kissed you gently.

His hands splayed over your back, brushing the skin carefully. His touching putting everything ablaze. You never felt fire like that burn through every cell in your body. For a moment, you wondered whether this was meant to happen. That maybe you were destined to be together. Because how else could it be this perfect?

“You’re being too generous, I think” you breathed.

In response, Neil only smirked. His hands traveled down your sides onto your parted thighs. Rubbing the skin and getting ever so close to where you needed him most. You could not stop the gasp that escaped your throat when he touched your panties. Instantly he knew exactly what to do. Meeting your gaze with determination, he traced the hem of the undergarment.

“Let me take care of this” it was not exactly a question, but you knew that he would wait for consent.

You wanted it more than you could express, and yet that voice in your head was rebelling. Because it meant letting the most important person in your life see you vulnerable. More than ever.

“Neil, I…” you huffed, frustrated with yourself.

“It’s okay, love. It’s the least I can do for you” his fingers scratched the skin just above the line of underwear as though to remind you of what you could get. It was probably both the undeniable need you felt combined with the way he was looking at you that made you nod then.

“Please”

He kissed you on the forehead and let his fingers slip underneath the material. The moment you felt him touch you, any thoughts you might have had disappeared. If he was surprised by how ready you were, he did not show it, instead focusing on making you feel better. Your hands searched for a steady grip and settled on his arms. He let you get used to the sensation before his thumb circled your clit, making your head fall against his shoulder. The fire in your veins only got worse. You moaned quietly, and Neil chuckled in response, clearly satisfied with the response. When you felt his fingers inside, building up a rhythm that was undoubtedly going to be the end of you, you bit down on his shoulder harshly. As a reaction, he only picked up the tempo. You knew that it was not going to take long. He hit the perfect spot then, and you were unable to hold off any longer. He was the centre of your attention, both the cause and the solution to everything you felt.

“Fuck… Neil…” gasping for breath, your fingernails dug into his biceps, bruising the skin.

He must have felt that you were close, for he raised your chin again, preventing your instinct to hide from him. Your walls clenched around his fingers. You shuddered, prepared for the release. When you came undone the next moment, you could not stop yourself from crying out:

“Neil…” it was a plea but also an act of devotion “I…” love you.

Later you realised how close you got to telling him. And he must have understood it too for he captured your lips in a kiss, letting you ride out the high he brought you to. You passed the confession from your lips to his. You felt faint and yet so full of things you could not begin to understand that his lips against yours were like an anchor. Pulling you in and keeping you grounded. He brought you to the edge, and what awaited beyond surpassed any expectations. The world exploded for you, and the only thing left was Neil, his lips on yours, taking everything you were willing to give him, and his body steady beneath your shaking hands. He only ended the kiss when he knew that you were done and withdrew his hand, wiping it on the bedsheets.

“Are you alright?” his voice was raspy, and yet the look in his eyes could not be softer.

You rested your forehead against his, recovering. It never felt so good before. And it was just him bringing you the necessary release after weeks and months of ignoring and denying it. Suddenly you wanted nothing but to know what it would be like to feel him inside you. It was as though once you allowed yourself this much, you only wanted more. Death surely could not be sweeter…

“Yeah, I…” you did not know what you actually wanted to tell him “I want…” frustrated at lack of coherence, you met his gaze hopelessly.

The depth of love, desire, and understanding you saw there took your breath away. He really was quite something.

“What do you want?”

For once, the answer could not be simpler.

“You. I want you”

The genuine smile you got for the confession was worth any future regrets.

“Then we’re even” Neil cupped your cheek while his other hand reached to the clasp on your back “Are you sure?”

But it was the way he bucked his hips into yours then that made you realise. Feeling his hardness, you swallowed. But at the same time, you knew you were ready for more.

“Yes. Shut up and just…” you brushed your crotch against his, unexpectedly not caring about the fact that he just took off your bra.

Impatiently, you undid the buckle on his belt. The want you saw in his eyes was enough to assure you that he understood.

“Got you” his husky voice sent a shiver through your body.

His hand cupped your breast, stimulating the nipples as though you needed more. You kissed him on the neck, making one of the marks even darker. It was almost too simple. Unzipping his trousers, you returned the earlier favour and ran your hand over his crotch. The gasp you got in response was enough to set the fire. You met his lips in a fervent kiss, getting ready to get past the point of no return for you both.

A knock on the door was like a slap to the face, piercing the silence and ripping apart the moment you both build up.

“Neil?” TP’s voice coming through the door only intensified the feeling.

You both stilted the movement, lips brushing, tongues intertwined.

“Are you there?” at the question, Neil broke the contact.

“Yes. Just give me a moment” he called out with that breathless voice that made you realise how close it really was.

“Okay,” the slightly suspicious tone in the boss’s voice was pushed you over the edge.

Fucking hell. You started laughing hysterically, collapsing against Neil, fighting for breath. He sighed heavily and embraced you, taking time to soak in the last few seconds of the moment.

“Holy fuck” the curse only made you laugh harder.

“Indeed” you choked out and met his gaze.

It took him 5 seconds to join in with your mad laugh.

[markberries]

a l l  i  w a n t ┊draco malfoy

anon requested: could you do a draco x reader imagine where it’s enemies to lovers but one day at a party draco gets drunk and confesses his feelings?

info: being tormented by draco was a normal thing for you, but one day everything changes when you find out his true thoughts.

warnings: blood, cursing

genre: slight angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, gryffindor!reader, fem reader

word count: 2700+

a/n: i decided to not make this a party scene because i feel like all my stories end up there, so it’s a little different. sorry if this ruined your request! also i stole hermione’s iconic scene lmao

you rarely hated anyone. most of the time, you enjoyed another person’s company. you enjoyed hearing them talk about things they were excited about, how they did on their recent exam, and you let them vent their sorrows to you. it was like getting a peak into another person’s life, you got to view how it felt like to be them.

so no, you did not really hate anyone, except for one bleach blonde snob with daddy’s credit card; draco malfoy. his cologne hurt your nose, it reminded you of axe body spray, back in the muggle world. he always used his “pureblood status” as a valid excuse to verbally assault those who did not carry the same reputation as him.

you convinced yourself that you did not care for him, or that you hated him, but something in the back of your mind had your eyes drifting to his smooth looking skin in the middle of a class, or the thought of how his hair looked extra soft. you were the type of person to dust those thoughts off and continue with your day, but that did not stop you from thinking about him any other day.

so you gripped your wand in your hand, pointed at draco, who had just insulted hermione for the sake of shits and giggles. he looked at you, as if he were waiting for you to strike, as if he knew that you weren’t going to do it.

“what do we have here? a halfblood? trying to harm me?” an irritating snicker emits from him and his two goons. a surge of anger powers through you, and you’re at a point where you want to spew hurtful words and cast menacing spells, but you knew where that would get you. it would get you a one way ticket out of hogwarts.

your face is beginning to heat up; not from embarrassment, but from annoyance. people passing by the courtyard paid no attention, they continued to talk loudly and ignore the commotion surrounding you five.

“what are you gonna do, huh?”

“y/n, i appreciate the help, but it’s better to ignore him,” hermione assures you, setting a hand gently on your shoulder. you should have listened to her. you wished you had listened to her.

in that spur of ignorance and rage, for you hated draco that much, you launched your fist into malfoy’s face, making him fall to the ground and hold his nose in pain.

you see a tad bit of blood coming out of his nose, and you swore you heard a crack when your fist met his face. now realizing your wrong doings, your eyes widen as professor mcgonagall comes marching towards the scene. 

“what on earth happened?” she asks, concerned while picking up malfoy off the ground, who was still groaning, it was a bit dramatic in your opinion. you didn’t know how to start explaining yourself — you couldn’t just say “he was pissing me off”. no, definitely not.

“he was saying hurtful and offensive things, not only towards me, but towards hermione as well,” you say, hoping that your punishment wouldn’t be too severe.

“it should not have resulted in violence, ms. y/l/n,” mcgonagall lectures you, now dragging draco towards the school entrance. “we will decide on the proper punishment after mr. malfoy recovers in the infirmary, for now, i think it’s best you think of an apology to give him, yes?”

with that, professor mcgonagall walks away with malfoy, crabbe and goyle following behind her. you sigh, facepalming.

hermione stood in front of you, asking, “why did you do that?” it was obvious that she was trying to stifle her own laughter, but you are the one who ends up giggling in amusement.

“i had to! it was malfoy!” you reply, making her let out a small laugh as well. you two began walking towards your next class together, meeting up with harry and ron in the hallways.

“you what!?” ron asks in disbelief, looking at you as you all walked together. “bloody hell, you know that draco’s father isn’t going to be happy about this.” 

“i know,” you reply, almost carelessly. 

“are you not worried?” ron questions again, you simply shrug in response. ron makes a face, like he was thinking of how worried he would be if lucius malfoy would treat him after he punched draco.

“always thought draco fancied you,” harry mutters as you all enter the defence against the dark arts classroom, and you nearly choke on your own saliva.

“i’m sorry?” you manage to get out, making harry look at you.

“oh you know, i thought everyone was thinking the same thing,” he tells you, and you cannot believe what you’re hearing.

“you must be mistaken,” you laugh awkwardly, sitting down at your desk, beside hermione.

“you two are always at each other’s throats, you claim to hate each other, i wouldn’t be surprised if malfoy liked you, if i have to be honest.”

setting your books down on the carved wooden table, you tap your fingers on the desk. you fell deep into thought, resting your head among your hand, propping yourself up. 

it would be unexpected — no, odd, yes, it would be quite odd if draco malfoy fancied you. although it was not believable nor confirmed, it still had you thinking. would it be strange to date draco? it couldn’t be that bad, right? you could see who he was. who he really was, not that tough, and might i add, annoying front that he put up, no — you would be able to discover the reality behind draco malfoy.

his fears, his dreams, his hopes — the possibilities were endless. there may be some obstacles, his father for example, but every relationship had obstacles.

you shake off your odd thoughts, reminding yourself that this was draco malfoy. the pureblood who insulted you everyday, the boy who thought he was better than everyone else, the boy you had just punched, for god’s sake.

finally, you are broken out of your own trance by professor lupin, tapping on your desk.

“yes, professor?” you ask, looking up at him. he offers you a warm smile, saying, “professor mcgonagall wishes your presence in the infirmary.”

oh shit.

—

“ah,” mcgonagall says when you walk through the door. “well then, i’ll leave you to it.”

you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, “i’m sorry? leave me to do what?”

“apologize. i’m sure you heard me tell you to make one, yes? although, we did have to cast a spell that makes mr. malfoy a bit disoriented so that we could repair his broken nose.” with that, the professor exits, leaving you with malfoy, who was laying in his bed, eyes boring into your own.

“i see you’re all fixed up, aren’t you?” you remark, glaring at him. he doesn’t respond, perhaps the spell’s side effects were the reason. after a pause, he begins to speak.

“mcgonagall said, you have to apologize.”

you didn’t want to apologize. who would want to? but you knew you had to, you didn’t want draco’s father to be on your ass for the rest of your hogwarts years. sitting down in the seat next to draco’s bed, you sigh to yourself.

“fine. i’m sorry, i guess.”

the room goes quiet; not an awkward silence, but a calm one. it washes over you unexpectedly, as you had never imagined what a calm silence would be like around draco malfoy. 

at this point, he’s still staring at your face. you’re trying your best to avoid his gaze, not wanting to look into his eyes. he smiles at you, drowsiness taking over him.

“you know, you’re quite pretty when you’re not bitching,” he says, but it seemed like he wasn’t directly saying it to you — it was as if he was talking to himself.

“what?” you say quietly, and draco turns to the side, the opposite direction of you.

“you heard me. i think you’re pretty.”

a million thoughts race through your mind, negative and positive. the only sound that you swore you could hear in the empty room was your own heartbeat, pounding out of your chest as you replayed malfoy’s words repeatedly in your head. before you could question malfoy longer, he was already fast asleep.

—

the next few days had you stumped. you forgot how to act around draco, you no longer made your smartass remarks, and he would constantly catch you glancing at him. after his odd confession, it was like something changed in you.

“what are you looking at, halfblood?” draco spits at you, you’re quick to look down at your feet and spew out an apology. draco, who was fully expecting you to throw some nasty words at him, was baffled. he had never seen you pass an opportunity to argue with him. yes, sometimes you would go quiet when you two fought, often when he took his insults too far; but not like this.

“cat got your tongue?” draco tried his best to provoke you, to get you to merely look at him, but you seemed far more interested in looking down at the ground. it irritated him, so he strutted up to you and grabbed your face with his left hand aggressively, earning a yelp from you. he lifted your chin swiftly, seeing a scared look on your face.

“look at me when i talk to you, halfblood,” he laughed, letting go of you. you still refused to speak, draco’s former words in the infirmary occupying all your thoughts. draco needed you to say something, anything.

“what are you? mute?” he carried on, heads turning at the scene unfolding before everyone in the courtyard, where you were previously holding a wand up to malfoy’s face. 

“leave me alone, draco,” you muttered, shoving him away. your voice wasn’t the same anymore. it was quiet, it almost sounded helpless, but not quite. as if you were unsure of what to do, or what to say.

when you pushed draco, he lost his own balance and landed straight on his arse, the ground making a light squish noise. giggles came from people passing by as draco stood back up, wet grass littering his robe.

he brushed himself off, before glaring back at you. “oh you’ll pay for that.”

“again, you two!?” a familiar voice shouted, once again, it had been professor mcgonagall. you were red with embarrassment, being caught fighting with draco once was a mistake, being caught twice was humiliating. both you and draco’s heads snapped to look at the upset professor.

“professor-” she cut you off, shaking her head in disappointment. “i’ve had enough of both of your shenanigans. both of you, detention.”

—

you had never gotten detention. then again, you also had never punched draco malfoy in the nose, nor have you ever considered dating him, so this week was full of unexpected events.

“this is your fault,” you hissed at draco, carefully reorganizing the books in the library. draco scoffed, flipping through pages of a random novel you had put aside to sort later. you had regained your sass from the shameful moment that you had been assigned to rearrange all the hardbacks and paperbacks hours ago.

“me? you’re the one who decided to send my ass to the ground,” he sneered, placing the book in the correct shelf, “or have you already forgotten about my broken nose?” draco added.

your cheeks began to heat up again, and you avoided malfoy’s gaze. you tried your best to shake off draco’s words,  but his flattering remark had not left your head since he said it.

“why do you keep doing that?” draco asked, and you froze. had he noticed?

“what do you mean, malfoy?”

“you keep doing that. i assume that you weren’t interested in arguing with me today, because most of the time, you never shut that big mouth of yours.”

“i’m never interested in arguing with you, malfoy,” you sighed, your back still facing him. you could feel his eyes burning into your backside, but you didn’t turn around. you didn’t want to turn around.

“not what i mean, halfblood. i’m saying you always have something to say.”

“okay, and i don’t see a problem here. i just didn’t have anything to say to you today.”

draco throws a book on the table next to you, forcing you to turn around to face him, annoyance written all over your face.

“today? don’t you mean the past few days? do you think i’m that dense?”

both of your voices had slighted raised a volume, but quiet enough so that professors wouldn’t come running in to check out the commotion.

“what is your problem malfoy? i just didn’t feel like arguing with you today. why are you acting like you’re offended or concerned?”

“i’m not. i just enjoy seeing how angry you can get when i call your little friend granger a mudblood.”

“don’t call her that.”

“so tell me then, halfblood. what changed? why are you so afraid to fight back?”

“you. you changed.”

the room went silent again. both you and draco stared at each other, a confused expression on his face, but a stoic one on yours. this wasn’t your ideal situation, you didn’t want to tell malfoy about what happened, and you weren’t going to, until now. 

you wished that draco hadn’t pushed, and you wished that draco stopped asking so many questions. you wished for a lot of things, but none came true. so many things were unplanned within your current state of affairs, like how you realized how attractive draco was, or how he always tried his best in classes, but he chose to play the “dumb rich boy”.

“you’re not making sense,” he said, taking a seat. you were fidgeting with your hands, looking at the ground. you were shifting your weight back and forth from your right foot to your left.

“you said something, when you were in the infirmary,” you rambled, looking back up at draco. he still had that same confused look on, and you were having second thoughts about this conversation, but it was too late.

“you called me pretty.”

it takes a moment for draco to process this — it’s like you can see what he’s thinking, judging from the flash of emotions on his face. first it’s embarrassment, the sudden pink tint rising as his eyes grow wide. next is a smile being held back, almost like he was thinking about how you might have reacted. lastly was deep thought, thinking about what to say next.

“well?” you ask, eagerly awaiting his response. you wished that he would yell and deny it, but like i said, you wished a lot of things.

“you are quite pretty.”

if draco had denied it, you would’ve continued living your life. you would have continued to argue with him and you would have continued to insult him whenever you got the chance. you wanted him to have said “you? you’re absolutely delusional”, so that you could cut off the thoughts about how much you wanted to feel draco’s hand on your own, go on dates with him, and rearrange his bland wardrobe.

that’s what you would have done if he denied it.

“i’m sorry?”

“odd, isn’t it? i thought it was a dream, truly i did. i thought i had made the entire thing in my head, i mean, i never expected you to ever apologize to me. guess i was wrong.”

you were dumbstruck, after all those offensive comments, after all those arguments and years of torment, draco malfoy had just admitted that he thought you were pretty.

“you’re lying,” you say.

“i’m not. you know what they say, bad attention is better than none at all, and you bet i wanted your attention.”

something he said made your heart swell, and you were staring into his eyes in awe. you smile, your eyes turning into crescents.

“malfoy,” you say.

“what is it, halfblood?”

“i want you to kiss me.”

draco stands up, walking towards you. bringing his lips to yours, your stomach explodes with butterflies as your hands wrap around his neck to bring him closer. you felt weightless, like you were floating. you expected his lips to be chapped, but they were quite soft, like your lips were on a cloud. there were no thoughts running through your head, it was like someone else had taken control over you.

when you two break apart for air, you rest your forehead on his, looking into his grey eyes. he was smirking, of course he was. you were smiling back at him, his hands wrapped around your waist.

“guess we have to go on a proper date other than detention then, am i right y/n?”

that was the first time he had ever used your real name instead of halfblood. finally, you realized, maybe draco wasn’t all that bad.

[honey-hippie-harper]

Successful Parenting

MY DEAREST @the-wee-woo-rita​ I HEARD IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY TODAY AFGSHAGASHA

I’m coming back from the death just to give you this, because you asked for it some time ago, and agshjaghsj I’m sorry I couldn’t give you something better, I’m super busy finishing HCTTR :’) But yeah, here is it!<3 I translated it from the start because the original translation was awful and you deserved something better than that x’d Still, I really hope you like it.

Rita, you’re super important to me :’) You have no idea on how much your comments make me happy, and I love you dearly even if I’m mostly dead because school’s been driving me crazy afsghjafgsh but yeah, you’re very kind, and sweet, and I hope you know your existence makes me very happy afghjaysu so, I wish you the best of birthdays! <3

Take care :’) <3

Successful Parenting.

Two days after the event, they start calling it The Day of Triumph. It’s only in that moment that Nova experiences that annoying itch people refer to as “resignation”, and she lays in her side of the bed she shares with Honey, with her arms at her side, limp, staring at the mold that grows in the ceiling of a house Nova can’t identify, which is the same one she was taken to while her eyes were folded. They knew she wouldn’t dare to do it, but they still feared she would try to find her way back to Gatlon to go look for Uncle Ace.

The many –and long- hours she spends laying, she feels nothing. She’s so invested in her own pain, that she doesn’t even notice the moment when Honey doesn’t lay next to her, nor does she curl up in a ball and spends the rest of the night bawling. 

Even when Ingrid comes into the room and violently takes her out of bed, wrapping her up in a blanket, Nova has no idea of what’s happening. 

Her heart is racing aggressively, but she can’t move, not even when the blanket falls into the floor and Ingrid almost stumbles the moment she steps on it. She doesn’t fall, but she does bark a couple of words Nova is sure she’s not allowed to repeat.

And then, among the bumpy ride, she sees them there. 

The air smells weird, and these people are screaming, like they always do. 

Nova spots Honey down on her knees, hugging herself and shouting up to the sky. Leroy Flinn is standing in front of her, and next to them both, there’s his yellow car. 

Winston, nonchalant and chewing on gum, is removing the tube that peeks from the car’s gas tank. 

And Honey is just there, repeating the phrase “Make it stop” like a mantra, shaking her head and screaming as if one of her knees was being amputated. Nova stares at her from Ingrid’s arms, still not knowing what’s happening, until she puts her down with such violence she ends up hiccupping.  

“LET ME GO! I DON’T WANNA BE HERE ANYMORE!”

“Look. That’s fine by me. You can go if you want to. But don’t drag us into it. Some of us want to stay here. You understand?”

“Leroy, where should I put this?”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, WINSTON!” Scream Honey and Leroy at the same time. For a second, it almost seems like Honey is lucid. 

“Geez.”

That’s when Ingrid intervenes too. 

“You are such a useless prick. Go on, Winston! Bring that thing over here!”

Nova jumps, because her voice sounds louder out of a sudden, and then she starts walking towards Winston, stomping her feet like she is marching, until she’s close enough to take the tube from his hands and start taking it to the trapdoor by the side of the house, which, Nova supposes, leads to the basement. 

For Nova, it’s a scene that’s as surreal as it is bizarre, with Honey knelt down on the ground that way, and all the windows and doors wide open. Then, everyone acting as if that tube thing peeking out of the car and getting into the house was such a big deal. 

After trying to connect the dots for a while, Nova decides she doesn’t understand. 

It’s only then that she hears a very familiar “Bang!” that deafens her for a couple of seconds. 

Frowning and taking her hands to her ears, Nova looks ahead. 

In her hands, Honey holds the gun Leroy always has in his belt, and Nova doesn’t need to be any more clever to know who was she aiming at; it wasn’t Leroy, or Winston, or her, Nova. 

Honey was aiming at herself. 

Leroy throws himself at her, to grab her, while Winston tries to snatch the gun from her hands, and she fights back so much it reminds Nova of a whirlwind. She’s screaming again, and she’s crying a lot, to the point the long lines of mascara are starting to reach her neck. 

She looks so sad and ready to die, that Nova knows she should be feeling some type of sympathy for her.

Yet, she doesn’t. 

She doesn’t, because bullets were the ones to take everything she had away from her, and the mere idea of somebody thinking about ending their life that way repulses her. 

So Nova stares at her with teary eyes while she wishes something would fall on top of her and kill her for real this time, because if she’s dead she will stop crying. 

She says something intelligible yet again (probably a very dumb thing) the moment Winston manages to take the gun out of her hands and, for instance, out of her reach. 

Now that she’s defenseless, Nova gets closer to her. Honey seems reluctant to calm down at first, but when she stares at Nova she recognizes the features papà got from Uncle Ace, and that at the same time Nova got from papà. Then, she goes still. 

Just like that, she becomes quiet, though still breathing like an angry bull and with the tears rolling down her face. 

She looks at Nova like she’s an odd being who just came through a portal from another dimension, and Nova feels her entire body catching fire. 

There’s so, so many ways to release her power on people...

And yet, she chooses the bad way, and she slaps Honey so hard that by the time she collapses into Leroy’s arms, the palm of her hand is itching.

-.-

The ladder trembles, and Nova holds on to it, even when she feels that, on the floor, Leroy has tightened his grip. 

Once settled down, Nova gulps and continues going up. 

“That’s it, sweetie! That internet won’t connect itself!” Screams Honey Harper, in a melodic voice. 

Stars. Nova hoped it would connect itself. 

It’s been a couple of weeks since they’ve moved down to the tunnels, and their condition could be better. However, Nova considers they’ve been managing perfectly well with almost everything, except this...electricity issue. 

And, apparently, these people are very dependent from their electronic devices. 

It would’ve been easier if they had money but, evidently, they don’t have any; and it could’ve been easier, too, if they had access to any of the public services, but it seems to be they don’t have such thing either. Nova doesn’t know much about that, but she remembers her father explaining some of it to her. 

There’s no water or electricity down in the tunnels, nor gas or those type of things. It reminds her of everything she’s been told, about how, before Uncle Ace, Prodigies were treated this way.

The Renegades are gross.

For that reason, and that reason only, Nova agrees to climb up the ladder to steal some power and internet from the fuse box from a restaurant that happens to be close to the tunnels.

It’s not like she had another option whatsoever. Even if she had said no, they would’ve forced her to anyway. She was starting to get used to that. 

Feeling her legs shaking from the effort to keep her balance, she continues going up until she’s face to face with the fuse box. 

“Okay, Nightmare. Can you see anything?” Asks Leroy. 

Nova narrows her eyes and, after analyzing the issue, she concludes: 

“Just a little.” 

Immediately, Honey enhances the flashlight’s illumination and rises it up to the fuse box, to which Nova nods. 

“That’s better.” 

“Great. Now, you should plug in the wire you have in your right hand to the ports at the bottom of the box.”

It doesn’t take much searching for her to find them. There’s a couple of available ports, and the fact she can’t stay here longer, to analyze how do they work, makes her really sad. 

Nevertheless, it doesn’t make her sadder than what comes next. Apparently, they didn’t took the time to research about the restaurant’s owner before sending her up here, but the very moment a wire separates from the box, in a physically impossible way, and whips her face, Nova suspects that must be an electric prodigy work, who was able to alter the fuse box to turn it into a security system that...does this. 

The burning sensation in her face comes immediately, and Nova screeches so loudly she can’t even believe that terrifying sound is coming from her (Because she knows she’s way better than this). 

By instinct, she lets go of the wires and even from the ladder, but before a disaster can happen, Leroy intervenes. 

“Don’t let go of the ladder, just come down here! Quick, Nighmare! Get down here!”

Hiccuping and feeling ridiculous, she obeys, and when she’s –more or less- five steps away from the ground, she feels someone grabbing her by the waist and putting her down. At first, she thinks is Honey, for the smooth way their hands feel, but once the person tightens their hold, their arms brush against hers, and she can’t help but remember how Honey rips every hair that grows in every part of her body except her head. 

Even if she didn’t do that, Nova highly doubted her body hair would be this curly. 

So, carefully, Winston places her on the ground, on a sitting position, and Nova presses her hands against her face, still screaming...though, not much time has to go by before somebody else tries to pull them away, grabbing her by the wrists.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!”

“LEROY, ACE IS GOING TO ANNIHILATE US!”

“Hey, little flea, let us see your face.” 

“IT BURNS! IT BURNS REALLY BAD!”

“WOW, THAT’S SUCH A TRAGEDY! WHERE DID THIS GIRL COMES FROM!? WAS SHE RAISED BY THE RICH?!”

“INGRID, THERE’S NO TIME FOR THAT!”

“JUST...JUST BRING HER WATER! SHE CAN’T CRY AND DRINK WATER AT THE SAME TIME!”

“OF COURSE SHE CAN! AREN’T YOU SEEING HER?!”

“YEAH, BUT SHE WOULD CHOKE!”

“EXACTLY! SHE’S CHOKING ON HER OWN SALIVA! SHE’S DRINKING SOMETHING, CRYING, AND CHOKING BECAUSE SHE’S CRYING WHILE SHE’S DRINKING SOMETHING!”

“NIGHTMARE, LET US SEE YOUR FACE!”

And amongst the chaos, they get her to do it. Nova stares at them with one single eye, for she’s not able to see with the other one. 

They remain in silence, just looking, and Winston runs his finger throught the upper part of her forehead, on a spot she can’t identify. She just knows it hurts a little. 

“We just need to disinfect it. It’s not too bad.”

“Eugh.” Honey frowns in disgust. “Will that big ass browless chunk grow again?” 

Winston tilts his head to the side, and touches Nova’s brow again, carefully. His hands are so cold she even finds them conforting. 

“Yep.” He saids, very casual. “It should grow again in no time. No biggie.”

But it doesn’t.

Nova’s eyebrow gets scarred. 

And that one specific chunk never grows hair.

-.-

“Don’t expect other people to respect you just because you’re young. That’s not how the world works.” 

Nova gulps and tries to dry her face with her hand, putting on her better brave face while Leroy graps her ankle (that’s starting to turn purple) in some bandages that Lord-knows-where they came from. 

“So if you want to learn how to take care of yourself, you’ll have to obey Ingrid. And she won’t have pity on you either, because nobody had pity on her when she was your age. Bear with her.” 

That is such an awful advice. It’s so awful, that Nova feels her eyes becoming blurry with tears again, but she manages to make them go away. 

“I don’t have to bear with her. In fact, she could break my other ankle and that would be completely fine by me because it didn’t hurt when she broke the first one.” She said, in the most broken voice she had ever heard coming from herself in her entire life. “If she breaks my two ankles, I’ll still have two arms.” 

“Mmhm.” 

“And two balls.” 

“Nova, you don’t have balls. You have ovaries, and you can’t walk with them. Are the bandages too tight on your foot?”

“Can I kick Ingrid on the ovaries?” 

Leroy doesn’t respond. At least, not for a couple of seconds. 

“Nova, are the bandages too tight on your foot?”

“...It didn’t hurt, Leroy.” 

Leroy shoots a glance at her again, mockingly. 

“Good. That means you can still train today. Do you want to run a marathon through...?”

“NO!”

“Go to sleep, then.” Says Leroy.

And it’s not funny.

It’s not funny at all.

-.-

It’s a ridiculous backpack. It’s too shiny, too colorful, too…too much. That’s the word.

At least it doesn’t have any of the member of the Council’s faces on it. Though, undoubtedly, she has to give them some credit for their merch-making choices, because the only colorful things they sell are the billion photoshoots Captain Chromium and Dread Warden do during Pride Month, every single year (Ingrid uses the magazine covers to throw darts at them). 

Nova respects every fool whose personal taste combines with these types of backpacks, but she’s not one of those fools.

It has a unicorn with mobile eyes, and every time she moves, the little bells make too much noise. As if that weren’t enough, the unicorn’s tail is made out of threads that hang from the backpack.

It’s disgusting, and though the only thing she wants at the moment is to throw it at the trash can, she limits herself to place it next to her, carelessly, and then she sits in the worst humanly possible position one can think of, sitting on her right leg, and putting the left one over her right thigh. 

The pigtails are resting over her shoulders, but since the scrunchies aren’t helping at all, she feels as if her hair were dong. Besides, these clothes are itchy on her. What can one expect from an outfit that has been put together to fit with the backpack?

Mad at life, she sighs, and instead of staring at the road, she looks at the opposite way. 

Right across the imports market, which is where she’s sitting, there’s a small park. From here, she can see a small group of children playing, while their parents watch over them from the benches. One of the couples has a baby carriage. 

It’s not the best park to take your children to, and it occurs to her that it’s so ugly there’s no way this would’ve been anyone’s first option. Maybe she went there with her parents, but, if she did, she doesn’t have any memory of that day. 

By the time she hears the commotion, she’s looking at how one of the kids helps his little sister move on the swings. She immediately knows that’s her cue, to which Nova glares. 

Here comes Winston, dressed in full black, using a facemask to hide the most eye-catching elements of his makeup, wearing sunglasses, and with his hair looking like an orange broccoli, because it’s tied on a ponytail. 

He’s crossing the street like he is the reincarnated Messiah. At the same time, there are at least five cars honking at him, to which he responds standing in the middle for a couple of seconds, before walking like he’s carrying the Prophecy again. 

Once he arrives, he removes his sunglasses and glares at Nova so bad she almost believes it’s her fault. Nevertheless, all his chances of winning reduce to dust when he says: 

“For fuck’s sake. You know I have a shit memory. If you see I’m walking away without you, you have to scream.”

Nova frowns until she feels that her forehead is catching flames, and throws the hideous backpack at him. 

“Here’s your crap.” She tells him. “I hope your blood sugar levels go all the way up to 400 and you get all comatose.”

She doesn’t have the guts to wish the Hi-Chew candies he asked her to steal for him are expired, because it took a lot of sacrifice from her part to put the candy in the backpack. And, after all, she already had to dress like an idiot not to seem suspicious.

-.-

Honey’s relapse into depression is so severe she can’t take care of herself. She can’t bathe on her own, she forgets about basic things, like drinking water or eating, and she’s not even in the mood to play around with her bees. 

They’re both staring at her. Nova is sitting on the floor, while Ingrid is by the edge of the old bathtub (which Winston and Leroy stole back when they moved here), running a sponge through Honey’s back. In the end, she stares back at Nova, who does her best to smile at her…or, at least, to put on something similar to a smile. 

Honey has her legs up to her chest. She looks spaced out, but Nova wouldn’t say she’s uncomfortable. Thanks to that position, it’s easy for her to see the exact moment when she sighs, because her whole body goes up, and then down again. 

“I can sense my time has finally come.” She says. “I’m finally gonna die.” 

Ingrid clicks her tongue, and presses the sponge tighter against Honey’ back to get rid of the water excess. 

“Quit it with the bullshit.” She tells her. “We need honey. That’s one of the few things stopping us from starving to death.” 

“Can you believe that, for a second, I actually thought you were referring to me in third person because you cared about my well-being?”

Nova rolls her eyes, deciding she has had enough of this conversation, and then she goes back to her ball of wool and her knitting needles, taking the last to detach herself from the situation. Life can become boring when you don’t sleep at all, so Nova tries to keep herself busy when she isn’t training or stealing things, following the commands of these adults that are supposed to be taking care of her. 

She just wishes she had inherited her mother’s patience. She still remembers the story about how, when she met her dad, she made a very long blanket, saying that would be her wedding blanket, and one day she left the tent for a couple of hours, somebody stole it from her and then, in her words, she wasn’t the same after that.

For a moment, Honey follows Nova’s fingers with her eyes; how they manipulate the needles and the wool, awkward at times. She stares in an absent way until, from one moment to another, she asks: 

“What are you knitting, Little Nightmare?”

Nova stares back at her, and lifts the wool square so she can look at it. 

“It’s a blanket.” She responds. “I think.”

“Pff.” Ingrid scoffs. “Why does it have that many types of wool? Uh?”

“Pardon me for not stopping to carefully choose what type of wool I’m stealing.” 

“Perhaps you should.” Honey says in a hoarse voice. “Because that thing is hideous.”

“…Thank you.”

That’s why, two weeks after that, on Mother’s Day, Nova gifts it to her out of spite.

-.-

During her eleventh birthday, she doesn’t ask for anything besides ice-cream that doesn’t taste like garbage, so, reluctantly, they cramp themselves up in Leroy’s car. 

Honey is on the passenger’s seat, wrapped up in the ugly blanket Nova gave her two weeks ago, like it is a cocoon, annoyed to death thanks to Winston, who is behind her in an almost fetal position, with both his legs up to the passenger’s seat backrest. Very, very close to his face, there’s the Nintendo DS with a case that says Evander; Ingrid is staring out the window, and Nova is in the middle, like a very uncomfortable ham.

Nova doesn’t know where they’re planning to get her ice-cream but, at this point, she just wishes they don’t kill each other before they get there. 

After a while, she stops trying to guess where they’re taking her, and limits herself to sit still. If they want to take her to cross the gates from Hell, then she will just let it be that way. 

At some point, Honey asks Winston, in a very rude way, to get his legs off the backrest, but she’s not obeyed, so they begin having the type of discussion kindergarten children would have in the playground, going all like “Leroy, do something! It’s your car! It’s YOUR car, just kick him out of here!”. 

Half an hour later, they finally stop, and Nova recognizes the humid smell, not from the sea, but, more likely from a river or a canal. Then, Winston finally sits properly and proceed to damage his image once again, by opening the door with his foot. 

“You’re an animal.” Honey spits.

“Eat dirt.”

Honey manages to escape her blanket burrito in less than a second, and tries to slap Winston or at least poke one his eyes out with her nails but, first: Her seatbelt starts suffocating her as soon as she stretches back and, second: Winston is already out of her reach. At least, until he comes back, saying: 

“That is, if we don’t have to cover you in dirt first, you old mess.”

Honey goes berserk. She whimpers and screeches so much Nova feels a migraine growing at the back of her head, and Ingrid starts massaging her temples and threatening Honey, telling her that, if she doesn’t shut her ass she will make that wrinkled face of her explode (which, of course, doesn’t help at all). 

With all that chaos going on around her, Nova is barely able to witness the true tragedy. Nevertheless, she’s “fortunate” enough to look back, the very moment Winston and Leroy take the black garbage bag that seems to contain a body out of the trunk, and then they throw it directly onto the water. 

The weird sounds she had been hearing at the back of the car throughout the whole ride suddenly come back to her and, suddenly, she doesn’t feel like eating ice-cream anymore.

In fact, Nova doesn’t feel like eating anything in weeks.

-.-

She sees the whole scene from the roof, like a stray cat, attired in the costume they gifted her barely a couple of hours ago. Nightmare’s official costume. Because, of course, there’s no better gift for a child during Christmas. 

It is cloaked as a normal, polite conversation, but truth to be told, if it weren’t against the peace treaty, there would be heads rolling. Simon Westwood –The Dread Warden- and Hugh Everhart –Captain Chromium- are right there, at plain sight, talking to Honey and Leroy, who have their arms crossed across their chests, and frowning deeply. The rest of the Council members are inspecting the wagons, allowing, at the same time, Ingrid and Winston to supervise them (Lord-only-knows where Phobia is). 

Upon confirming everything’s under control, Nova manages to jump through the structure and stops where she can see Evander and Winston, inside the wagon of the last one. 

“You’re not gonna find it, egghead.” Says Winston, in an almost singing voice. Nova can spot Evander on the floor, looking for something under the few pieces of furniture he owns. 

He’s not going to find it, indeed. Nova can see the Nintendo DS in his back pocket, inside a Pop Tarts wrapping. 

“But if I find something else, you’ll be fucked.” 

“And your mom too.” 

“If you keep talking to me that way, I’m gonna fuck your mom.” 

Nova rolls her eyes, and decides this isn’t worth her time, so she chooses to place on a spot where she has a clear view of Ingrid’s wagon, looking at Tamaya Rae –Thunderbird- and Kasumi Hasegawa –Tsunami- going through her stuff. 

“If you think what you’re seeing here is interesting, just wait until you see Queen Bee’s wagon, she—“ 

“What is this, Detonator?”

“That’s the device I use to pull drugs through my eyes. I can get you one if you want to, Angel Fish.” 

“Ugh.” Nova groans under her breathe and adjusts her hoodie, before coming back where she started, to focus on Leroy and Honey.

“I don’t know how much damage was caused by this shooting/explosion you’re talking about, but we’ve been here all night.” Says Leroy with a monotonous, yet calm and almost soothing voice, in a volume that was nor too high or too low. 

“Even the Detonator?” Asks Hugh. “How sure are you about that?” 

“Very. If Ingrid’s not here by this hour, she doesn’t come back until the next day. So, it’s safe to say we’re very sure.” Honey answers. “Go on and “investigate” other people. It’s Christmas, there are many drunk people out there. And alcohol does weird things to your brain, like making you think starting a shooting it’s a fun thing to do.”

“Don’t you have better things to do?” Leroy asks. “Taking care of that zygote you adopted, for example?” 

“Let’s calm down, Cyanide.” Simon warns. “We don’t intend to cause conflict.”

“I see. Well, if you weren’t intending to cause conflict, you wouldn’t have come here in the first place, my little honeydew.” Says Honey. “We’d normally appreciate the company, but it’s getting late. You better leave.” 

“We’re not leaving until the inspection concludes.” Says Hugh. “You think you’re very clever, don’t you, Queen Bee?”

Honey laughs graciously, taking her hand up to her chest. 

“We find our own flaws in the people who don’t have them, Captain.”

“Captain, just…don’t. Bring the breathalyzer.”

“Stay there.” Leroy said, talking to Hugh. “You’re not bringing anything.” 

“And why is that, exactly?” Hugh challenged him.

“Because you don’t have our permission, and you’re in our territory.” 

Simon Westwood sighed. 

“Mr. Flinn, this isn’t personal. You have to understand this is just part of the protocol, established by—“ 

“Shove your protocol up your…”

But just as he was about to finish his insult, his gaze finds Nova’s shadow, who stares back at him from the darkness, immutable. Honey follows his stare, trying to go unnoticed, but when she sees Nova, her face expression becomes somber. Nevertheless, Nova can’t think of another thing besides all the insults she has heard coming from them, and tries to think about the most creative one. 

Then, it hits her. 

And it’s perfect. 

“Shove it up where Hugh shoves it.” She says, out loud, and then she jumps out of the scene, just as Leroy and Honey smile at her with so much pride, that Nova feels they could’ve hugged her. Hugh, from his part, turns around like a bull. 

“Who said that?! Was it the Puppeteer?!” 

“Alright, guys. Who said that?” Simon asks, way more calm than Hugh, even if the insult has been directed at him. 

“Shut up, you fucking bottom.” Honey smiles.

Nova has to choke back a laugh upon noticing the way Simon’s face becomes wrinkled, not it a pout, but in an expression of pure rage. 

“My husband is not a fucking bottom.” 

Oh?” Leroy smiles too, showing all his missing teeth. “So you’re the bottom then?” 

“OF COURSE NOT!”

Leroy and Honey stare at Hugh, and their grins almost look like an evil cat’s. From her part, Nova stares at Simon. 

And in the moment Hugh stares at him too, she knows that he knows what he did wrong. 

“Wow.” Simon takes his hands up his hips. “Wow.”

Hugh rubs his nose. 

“Honey…”

“Ow!” Honey screeches. “You’re using my name as his bottom nickname! That’s lovely!”

“Miss Harper, you stay out of this!” Hugh screams. 

“That’s what you always tell Simon, don’t you?” Leroy mocks. 

And that’s enough. 

Simon bumps his foot against the ground and spins around his own toes, already leaving. 

“SIMON, PLEASE, DON’T BE LIKE THAT!”

“HUGH! CAN YOU PLEASE STOP TALKING TO ME?! I’M MAD AT YOU AND IF YOU KEEP DOING THAT I’M GONNA START CRYING!” 

Naturally, Leroy and Honey laugh a lot.

-.-

It’s a really bad day for Winston to be home. Or, at least, for him to get out of his wagon. 

The tea is getting cold in front of her, intact, while she just looks at it. Ingrid’s is intact too, Honey’s cup is half empty and Winston doesn’t even have one because, at the moment, he’s not welcome here. 

The way they have chosen to let him know, is by ignoring him, but Nova still directs her best death stare at him, which go unnoticed because Winston is too busy trying to access his brand new stolen computer. 

“So, Little Nightmare.” Honey clicks her tongue. “What is it, that you wanted to tell us?”

Nova opens her mouth, but then closes it again. She shoots a glance at Winston, and then comes back to them. 

Then, she finds herself going back to Winston. 

“Winston.”  Nova says, in a flat tone. Upon hearing his name, Winston responds with a mild head movement, letting her know she’s been heard. “Would you mind?” 

“No, not at all. Go ahead.”

Nova has to bite her tongue to avoid telling him he’s not understanding anything, but Ingrid intervenes before she can. 

“Nova, just...ignore this clown and hurry up. We have things to do.” She says, rolling her eyes all the way to the back of her head. 

Maybe she’s right. 

Like, she can’t think of a way in which people that literally live in tunnels like sewer rats could be busy. But, after all, Ingrid is the one who leaves the tunnels the most. Sometimes she brings food. Sometimes she brings clothes…things like that. 

Besides, she’s not in the mood to dance around the issue for long. For that reason, she just lets it out. 

“I think I’m menstruating.” 

And after a couple of seconds of silence, the phrases arrive at the same time. 

“ARE YOU?!”

“Lucky are the ones who bleed.” 

“Holy shit. Monstruation.” 

Nova stares at all three of them in disgust, but they’re too busy minding their own businesses. Honey’s smile falls immediately, and she turns to Ingrid, who at the same time is looking at Winston, who’s looking at Nova. 

Knowing they’re about to start making it about themselves, she interrupts. Not today. The one having the crisis is her.

“So? What we going to do about it? Are you gonna help me with it or do I have to go and steal my stuff alone?” 

Ingrid finally gets the courage to face Honey, who blinks one single time. 

“Who’s not bleeding?”

“I don’t know.” Ingrid responded, no hesitation. “Are you still?” 

“No. No. No. No. This isn’t about me, you little shit.” 

It’s not, indeed.

“…So don’t you go a try to pull that card.”

“You were the one who asked.”

“Why aren’t you bleeding, Ingrid?” 

They all wait for the answer, but the answer never comes. And, she has to admit, she’s as surprised as they are, but that doesn’t change the fact this is not about Ingrid. It shouldn’t be about Ingrid, at least. 

“Guys.”

But they don’t mind her. 

There are more important things to pay attention to, apparently. 

For example, the way Honey gets up and crosses her arms over her chest. 

Then, after groaning, she turns around and presses her palms over her eyes, and exhales loudly, before spinning on her toes again. 

“I need my pills.” She whispers under breath, but not enough for them not to hear her. “Get your fucking coat.” 

“Uh?”

“GET YOUR COAT, AND PUT YOUR SHOES ON!” 

It escalates so fast, that Ingrid has no choice but to obey. But, even as she’s walking away, Nova can’t help but think she’s relieved. She looks relieved. 

Good for her.

At least someone is getting what she needs. 

-.-

Nova is trembling on her “bed” by the time Winston comes into her wagon. She tries to ignore him, and he doesn’t talk to her either, but he does place the black bag he’s carrying in his hand next to her. A big black bag. 

Then, he sits on the floor, and starts playing with a rubik cube. That’s, in fact, the first time he talks to her. 

“I don’t know what’s that thing about wings, and some of them might be adult diapers because all the models on the boxes were girls. I also brought those ghost thingies because they’re funny, and I’ve brought them a couple of times for Ingrid.” Says Winston. 

A couple of seconds later, he adds: 

“I tried.” 

She blinks and gulps, before answering. 

“I know. Thanks.”

-.-

As the hours go by, the pain gets worse, and worse, and worse, until she’s shaking even more, and she’s basically curled up in a ball.

Once the sun goes down, Nova hears Ingrid and Honey outside, but she doesn’t mind them. For a short while, she hears them talking to Leroy and Winston under their breath, to then go on with their lives. It’s in that very moment, that Nova hates everything.

She hates the way in which Ingrid has to make everything about herself. She hates the way in which, once again, she’s not coming first. She hates that it hurts…

And she hates that, when Honey comes into her wagon, she stares at her, and Nova can’t help but to stare back.

Then, she comes into the mattress, holding a white plastic bag, where Nova can see she’s carrying some pills. Honey is already in her pajamas, and her face is free of makeup. 

As the mattress shrinks beneath her weight, Nova tries to pull away from her but, for some reason, she’s scared she’ll make a mess because of her…situation. Honey remains right where she is, and, a couple of seconds later, Nova feels her hand over her back. She’s very cold. 

Very cold.

But she doesn’t mind. It’s relieving.

It’s relieving until Nova remembers she’s mad at her. 

“Do you need a painkiller, honeybun?” 

And Nova takes it irrationally personal. 

“Oh, so…now you care.” She snaps. “Now you care about me. Weren’t you too busy with Ingrid? Why don’t you ask her if she needs a painkiller?!” 

With that being said, Honey goes silent, until she just…finishes laying down, and she feels her hand over her again. This time, on her shoulder. 

For a second, Nova feels lucid, but all that lucidity is blinded by the overwhelming pain at the bottom of her stomach, and how everything is horrible and sad and everything hurts. 

And when there is nothing left, she still finds Honey. When the first tears start flowing from her eyes, Nova turns around, and allows her body to interlock between Honey’s, and accepts her hug. Honey stroked her hair and hummed in her ear. 

Nova doesn’t fall asleep, of course. But Honey does. 

And even then, they don’t move.

For the longest time, they don’t move. 

Two blocks later, Ingrid’s limp gets worse. 

And worse. 

And worse.

And worse, until Nova’s own ankle starts hurting just by thinking about in how much pain she must be in; so she tries wrapping her arm around her waist so Ingrid can use her as a human crutch, but in the moment she feels Nova’s touch, Ingrid snaps. 

“Let go. You’re short. If I try to hold on to you, you’ll break my spine too.”

Nova rolls her eyes. 

“Fuck you, then.”

As expected, it takes them forever to get to the tunnels, and they finally arrive, Leroy’s waiting for them awake, and it takes Winston and Honey less than ten minutes to wake up too, when they hear all the movement coming from Ingrid’s wagon. 

Once they’ve arrived there, Leroy dismisses himself from the duty of taking care of Ingrid’s swollen ankle, and throws the ball to Honey instead, who doesn’t complain, but she doesn’t treat Ingrid more tenderly than Leroy either. 

Nova watches the scene as she bites her nails. Ingrid’s ankle has gotten so big she can’t help but compare it to a frog, and as Honey pokes it (instead of massaging it) to try to find out what’s wrong with it, the bruises on her skin become more evident. 

“I don’t think it’s broken.” Honey concludes. “It’s more likely…”

“Sprained.” Leroy nods. 

“Yes. Sprained. Little Nightmare, would you please hand me some bandages?” 

She skips the part where she asks Honey to not call her that (Little Nightmare) and obeys without hesitation. After all, she knows where Ingrid keeps that type of stuff. She’s been here bleeding or with injured limbs many times before. 

“What the hell happened to you?” Winston laughs. “Are you still this dumb? Really?”

Nova holds her breath as she takes the bandages. 

“Actually, no. Like, you’re not gonna believe what happened.” 

“Please, if any of the Renegades’ little brainless patrolling units did this to you, just…skip the story, because I’ll get really mad.” 

“Nova tackled the shit out of me during training.” 

She hugs the bandages really tightly against her chest, waiting for someone, anyone, to say something. It feels like a small piece of glass trapped in her skin and she wants it out as fast as possible. She wants the lecture to be over before it has even started. She wants…

“She did?”

“She did. And it was awesome.”

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the

“OH MY GOSH! NOVA!” Ingrid screams in pain as Honey violently lets go of her ankle and runs towards Nova, who turns around and accepts her effusive hug just because it’s too late to reject it. The bandages fall to the ground as she pats Honey’s back, confused. 

“Really, you should’ve seen her!” Ingrid screeches, already recovered. “She was great! HECK, WAS I IMPRESSED.”

“Ingrid, what the fu—“ 

“SHE TACKLED ME! TO THE GROUND! THERE’S NO WAY SHE COULD’VE DONE THAT LAST MONTH! SHE WAS AMAZING!” 

“Sounds like she was.” Leroy smiles. It’s not a wide smile, but still a smile. “Congratulations, Nova.”

Honey, who has stopped hugging her and now has her arms around her shoulders, laughs. 

“We knew you were better than that. You were just playing dumb, weren’t you?”

“I…”

“So…she…sprained your ankle when she tackled you to the floor?” Winston asks. 

“NO, NO, NO! BECAUSE AFTER SHE TACKLED ME, SHE MANAGED TO THROW ME OFF A FUCKING FENCE! I MEAN, HOW COOL IS THAT?!” 

Winston blinks. And for a moment, she sees something weird in his expression. Something…different. 

But maybe she’s just paranoid. 

“…Yeah. Pretty cool.” 

Nova blinks too. 

And the only thing she knows right now is that…

Well.

Perhaps she doesn’t know anything. 

“Heck. I’m proud of you.”

And Ingrid smiles. At her. 

And Nova feels the corner of her lips shaking as they correspond that smile. Next thing she realizes is that that’s how it feels to get it right for the first time. 

“You’re finally getting stronger. Next time…” 

“Next time I’ll wreck you.” Nova says, her smile widening. “And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Ingrid raises an eyebrow at her, jokingly. 

“Promises, promises, Nightmare. I hope you can keep them.”

Oh, she will.

-.-

At sixteen years old, a few months prior the parade where they plan to assassinate Hugh Everhart, Nova comprehend they’re doing the best they can. 

But she doesn’t tell them that. 

[bangtanlalaland]

more than enough | knj (m.)

synopsis ⇣ your unfortunate divorce has left you questioning life and your entire existence. that is, until, your counselor demonstrates just how much you’re worth.

— marriage counselor!au

⇢pairing: marriage counselor!kim namjoon x divorcee!female reader

⇢genre: angst, smut, pwp

⇢word count: 5.4k

⇢contents ⨯ warnings: someone plz stop me from writing these porn-filled, no plot having fics, i think i need help, dom joon makes an appearance (who doesn’t love this man? uwu), lots of filthy filthiness, swearing, oral sex (f + m receiving), drunk bathroom oral sex actually (oops), did i mention jungkook makes an appearance? (he’s that blonde babe from the bathroom scene) 😏, masturbation, unprotected sex (always stay safe!), rough sex, breathplay, dumbification, hair-pulling, spanking, slapping, choking, creampie, impreg kink (ugh my fave), over-stimulation, voyeurism (oof), multiple orgasms, name-calling (being called a slut), jungkook’s tongue is magical, namjoon’s dick is huge (don’t @ me), premature ejaculation (oops)

a/n: I’ve had this also in my wips for awhile 💜 including like 10+ wips with joon because he’s my bby & I love him so much ugh!

Your fingertips awkwardly fiddle with themselves, a slight tension in your shoulders that you’re sure is visible. With legs crossed, you take a deep breath and contemplate your next guilty pleasure meal of the day. Everything around you seems black and white; since your divorce, you’d become null and void — not understanding why life itself got you to this point. You’d often question your purpose in life.

Why me? What did I do wrong? Am I not enough?

But here you are, reminiscing when everything seemed smooth, lovely, and peaceful. When things weren’t always about arguing over finances, hectic work schedules, a decrease in the amount of quality time spent together, or most importantly: pleading for just the smallest ounce of attention.

The sudden sound of your counselor’s throat clearing startles you, “Mrs. ____?” His notepad and pen in hand, his eyebrows raising up at you, slightly. Not having realized you’d zoned out, your fingers stop moving on their own accord. Your back straightens up just a tad more.

“Sorry, I-”

He cracks a smile, his hand raising up in reply, “Don’t be. Take your time,” You take a deep breath, and silently woosah yourself. Some part of you is curious as to why people like your counselor work these kinds of jobs. You couldn’t imagine having a career where you’re required to keen in on people’s problems everyday and offer advice, when you have problems of your own and can’t get your shit together.

Ugh, life.

“I’m hanging in there. I guess?” He cocks his head to the side, eyeing your expression.

“Can you tell me one good thing that happened to you this week?” You take a deep breath, followed by a coy smirk.

It had been a long time since you stepped out and especially in risqué attire. Your roudy friend and co-worker, Candice, insisted that you needed to spend the night out to celebrate your now freedom — post divorce. A slight sentiment of anxiety takes a toll on you, that is until she orders you both a couple shots of tequila to rile you up.

“Here’s to being young, wild, and free baby!” She exclaims, clinking her glass against yours. The both of you tilt your heads back, inducing more alcohol — hissing due to the slight burn in the back of your throat. Candice taps your shoulder, and hell were you feeling the aftermath of the liquor. You’re all giggles and feeling loopy.

Next thing you know, you’re locking lips with a cutie in the bathroom. Teeth and tongues clashing against each other, the thrill of getting it on with someone you don’t know was exhilarating — courtesy of the liquor in your system. Your mind hadn’t registered the lingering aroma of his cologne, until he pressed you up against the wall and stooped down on his knees, reaching under your dress to pull your panties to the side. Your lady lips revealed to him, and it’s as if he’s as horny as you are in this moment, if not more. The blonde-haired babe glares up at you with those pouty lips and dives head first. His nose brushes up against your clit as he licks a long strip along your folds, stopping to circling his tongue around the bud. His lips encase around your clit, and his muffled moans vibrate against your core, making you throb relentlessly with much arousal. He lifts your leg up and over his shoulder, while your back rests against the wall — an attempt to keep some leverage while having him in between your legs like this.

“Mmmm,” was all you could hear from him as he licks up and down your pussy lips, coating them with his saliva.

Your mind couldn’t even process the last time you’d been eaten out like this; uncontrollable moans slipping out of you, and it feels oh so damn good. Your hips grind against his tongue, helping to bring on your orgasm at a much quicker pace. His soft fingers grip your thighs to keep you in place. He pulls away with a pop and stares at you with those gorgeous, doe-like eyes. Your chest rises up and down, panting to gain your breath back. His fingers find purchase on your lips, and with a light tap you open up sucking them in your mouth. A low groan slips from him, you bob your head back and forth making sure to coat his digits and suddenly he pulls away. With furrowed brows, you hadn’t even processed that his fingers rammed into your pussy, your walls now warm and wet, inviting them in. Your fingers grasp onto his hair, pulling and tugging once his thumb swipes your clit intently. You’re so close and just need a slight push.

“Damn babe, how can you be this wet?” He giggles in your ear. You can smell whatever it is he doused himself in from the bar. You can’t quite pinpoint what exactly, but it is there.

“Just fuck me already, please” You plead with his fingers still inside you, he rubs your clit just right and repeatedly thrusts his fingers in and out. The obvious squelching sound of your pussy can be heard, and you pray to God nobody else suddenly walks in. You guys did lock the door right?

Shit.

And then he stops, removing his digits from you. You frown instantly.

“Need you in my mouth,” He adds, returning to his previous position from before, His lips wrap around your folds, sucking and tugging them with hunger. Like he’s having the most delicious meal in his last day on Earth. He continues to make obscene sounds with his slurping noises, his fingers press and rub onto your clit in a rapid motion. Your thighs give out, and it’s a clear indication to you that you’re going to cum. Has it really been this long? Have you really forgotten what it’s like to have an orgasm? That feeling deep within where the bottom of your tummy and core meet, feels tight as a knot. He lashes his tongue out to glide along your folds and sticks himself inside of you, tongue fucking you while rubbing your clit.

“I’m going to cum!” You cry with a labored breath. He uses your cry as a sign to lift your leg over his shoulder while he grips your waist, his hands land on your ass — gripping your cheeks firmly. His tongue lands flat to paint his saliva all over your cunt, his hands aid in gliding his tongue up and down your pussy at a rapid pace. He shakes his head back and forth, his tongue brushing across your throbbing, aching clit as a result. He continues at his relentless pace and suddenly that feeling inside snaps.

“Fuck!” Your thighs tremble violently and your core contracts continuously. Your back arches off the wall, but the stranger doesn’t stop his motions, his tongue continues on its own accord, not letting up. You even feel his fingernails digging into your cheeks slightly. Your fingers grasp onto his strands, tugging with an necessary amount of force — mimicking his motions. His low moans suddenly drawing out more than you expected, adding an extra touch to your orgasm, — your clit feeling used having been stimulated for a moment too long. The trembling of your body subsides, your legs attempting to hold on for a little longer as you fight to push him from you.

“O-okay. Okay, that’s- E-enough. Fuck!” To your luck he pulls off with a swipe of his hand across his mouth, panting and out of breath. You assume that’s the only reason he gave up, until you notice he continues to moan, his face contorted into an expression you suppose is from a feeling of ecstasy. And then his gaze drops down to his clothed crotch; his wide eyes roam upwards to your form, with lips parted. Your trembling figure gradually regaining composure.

“Oops,” He slips, letting out a contagious laugh. You follow where his gaze was before and shake your head.

“I-it’s okay, I understand.” His eyes crinkle up in a crescent-moon shape, and you somehow notice the rosy tint of his cheeks, streaming to his ears. Poor thing. He’s probably embarrassed.

Your counselor listens with open ears, taking in everything you’re describing to him, while jotting down what you think are a few notes. But to your unknown avail, he has written:

Client lacks in sex life, due to divorce Stranger gives oral sex; client reaches orgasm

Namjoon clears his throat before proceeding, “And what is it that makes this-” He pauses to gather the correct words, attempting to wash away the imagination of you spreading your legs out, pussy on display, on his leather sofa.

“Experience a good one for you? Is it the thrill from having an orgasm? Maybe the act of having a stranger perform oral sex on you? Or is it because he orgasmed in his pants by performing oral sex on you?”

You contemplate for a moment, thinking deeply about his speculation. You admit it; he’s great at his job. Well, at least better than you would probably be in his line of work. With legs still crossed, you playfully dangle your ankle up and down, your leg now having fallen asleep but you’re somewhat in an awkward state — speaking to a male about your recent sexcapade.

It’s times like these that you wished you were referred a female counselor. And it doesn’t help with how attractive Mr. Kim is, which is definitely a deal breaker for you. You take in his lavender streaks that paint the strands of his hair, paired with highlights of platinum blonde.

Although, you can’t help but ponder what he thinks of all this? Seeing it as you’re a divorced woman, having developed a dry spell, and can’t seem to even orgasm from her previous husband — the person you’d committed your life to, to what you assumed would have been able to please you in the bedroom but unfortunately he failed. It’s embarrassing, to say the least.

Mr. Kim had been there through it all, the good and bad, the ups and downs, twists and turns. It wasn’t that he failed his job, no. He was perfect at it; but, your marriage simply failed. You wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Kim confessed that he knew what the outcome would be, because it was that obvious. But your ex-husband had to hire a professional simply because he was too prideful to admit his wrongdoings and actually “man up” to fix his problems.

Part of you hated that you’d stuck around after the divorce, and you’re surprised Mr. Kim hadn’t suggested you no longer needed of his services. But, you suppose he was just being kind, offering the best of his services — while another part of you assumed he understood that you do need someone to vent to. Being as that, doing so helps to ease the mind. You’re sure he’s aware that everyone needs to talk to someone, even if it’s a stranger.

Except in this case, Mr. Kim isn’t a stranger — quite the opposite actually and some part of you felt vulnerable to him. The fact he knew your story; any personal thing you could think of that’s ever happened to you — you had spilled it all to him. You contemplate: Who does he confide in, despite his career being that he helps those in desperate times of need? Does he ever vent to anyone? And if so, does it help him to stay sane?

You shake your head at the thought of it all, wanting to piece the entire process altogether. You’d almost forgotten he was still here in this very room with you, awaiting a response to slip. And damn, is he patient. You curse yourself for having zoned out that much, and with a clearing of his throat you are gracefully brought back to reality. The atmosphere suddenly parching your form, an odd sensation of heat pooling over you — paired with a sheen of cold sweat approaching.

He stares into your gaze, as if studying you for a moment.

“Mrs. ____?” His eyes still glued onto you, searching for any sign that you will open your mouth for once. But, you can’t seem to say anything else but one word.

“Control.” His eyebrows flick in response and he slowly nods — having scribbled something into his notes:

Control?

“Control?” He questions, giving you the spotlight to elaborate on whatever it is you’re implying. Your foot stops dangling, having now closed both of your legs entirely, squeezing them together. The visual of that stranger’s mouth lapping at your cunt flashes through your mind.

You take a deep breath, “Yes, control.” Namjoon’s eyebrows quirk upward, as if signaling for you to continue already.

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” You blurt out while grabbing your belongings, in a hurry to leave. Namjoon seethes. He’d endured months, perhaps a year of therapy with you. He refused to let you walk out without being satisfied. And he knows exactly what you need. He had the date written down, when you came to him for one of your sessions and confessed how long it had been since you had sex. It’s a memory he’d never forget, because although he’s a licensed counselor and shouldn’t personally involve himself with his clients — with you it was different. He despised the way your ex-husband treated you. It was wrong, and he couldn’t take the pain of seeing you stressed beyond your limits.

“ ____,” His deep voice now dipped in a stern tone, one you’d never heard before, and he never calls you by your first name. Like ever. With your back turned, you can feel his presence directly behind you. So close, you could practically drown in the warmth radiating from his body. He reaches past you, his fingers finding placement over the lock of the door.

“Sit down,” he commands. You shudder under his rigid voice, finding yourself to obey as he instructs, somewhat afraid of what he’d do if you didn’t comply. His towering figure follows back to his seat prior to your attempt of departing. His legs now spread wide and back slightly slumped in his chair. Your shoulders naturally tense themselves, a result of the heat wave washing over you.

Namjoon glares at you with an unreadable expression, as if he’s peering into your soul, a sudden churn resides in your tummy. You absentmindedly pull your dress down just a tad, the material now clinging to your skin due to the sweat that built up under Namjoon’s gaze.

He strokes his chin, and you thank the Heavens for that sight because it definitely gets you going. His slender fingers grazing amongst his skin, veins popping while doing so. You can only imagine what they would feel like inside your-

“Off the record, I know what you want.” He blurts out, stilling his motions. You question him with a rise of your eyebrows. The coy smirk that appears on his lips has you boiling on the inside, your thighs rubbing together pathetically — to ease the ache within your core. What the hell is this man doing to you?

“Should it be too much for you, the safe word is velvet.”

He removes his glass and places them down on the coffee table separating you both. He proceeds to make his way toward you, eyeing you down as if you’re his prey. He unbuckles his belt and slips, “You’ll do as I say when I say it and not give any back talk. Understand?” Your mouth flies agape at his sudden change in demeanor — only adding fire to the fuel in your heat.

He tilts your chin up with his finger, “Don’t make me ask you twice.”

“Yes- Yes, Namjoon.” He slaps your face, at first in a gentle manner, your kitty throbs in response at the sudden action.

“It’s Sir to you.” You nod in reply, “Yes, S-sir.”

Namjoon sits in his favorite spot, unbuttoning his slacks. His hands snake behind the garment, running along his shaft under his briefs.

“Open your legs and play with yourself,” He demands. Before your brain could process what he requested, your body moved instead. You pry open your legs and Namjoon is instantly met with your aching cunt.

“You little slut,” He mulls with a followed growl, his cock twitching under his grip. “You came all the way here with no fucking panties?”

You nod at his question, bringing your fingers to your wet folds.

“So fucking filthy.” Namjoon pumps himself at the sight of you grazing along your clit. “I should fuck you until you can’t think anymore.”

“Please,” you whine, grinding your hips. You lick the pads of your fingers and rub your clit instinctively, a moan falling from your lips.

“Is that what you want?” He coos, precum seeping from the slit on the head of his cock. “You want me to fuck you silly? Make you cream all over my cock like the good, little bitch you are?”

Wanton moans now become uncontrollable for you, and you lose yourself in Namjoon’s sexy voice laced with lust, “Yes, Sir. P-please, fuck me. I need your cock.”

A low rumble emits from his chest, he runs his fingers through his strands that were glued to his forehead. He pushes his trousers and briefs down to his knees.

“Come here. Now.” He motions with his index finger, and you find yourself at his beck and call. Namjoon slides himself down further in his seat and gestures you over him.

“Sit on my face,” You do exactly as he says and hover over his face. He doesn’t hesitate to grip your hips and lodge his tongue inside of your hot heat. His nose nuzzles your clit in the process, soaking in the fragrance of your womanhood. He graciously fucks your hole with his tongue, then slithers along your inner folds. He sucks and tugs onto them between his plump lips, groaning into your cunt. You naturally grind your hips, following his motions.

“Oh, fuck.” You slip, while grazing your fingers within his strands. Namjoon’s fingers dig deeper onto your hips. He lays his tongue flat down to glide against your clit, your folds having been coated in his saliva. He peers up at you with those wide, sexy eyes, and the sudden shock of his palm smacking your ass jolts you forward — your grip landing on the leather seat. His moans continue to reverberate within your core, emitting a cry of euphoria from you. He wraps his plush lips around your nub and sucks feverishly. His nails graze along the flesh of your ass cheeks and…

Smack.

“Mmmm, Sir!” He shakes his head back and forth, and sucks your clit again — sending you into your second orgasm in the past week. Your thighs tremble and back arches slightly, your nails claw the leather of the seat and your hips grind along his tongue — an attempt to ride out your high. Namjoon lands another harsh smack onto your bottom, and you scream maybe just a little too loud for your liking, yet it’s music to his ears.

But, he doesn’t stop.

He continues his ministrations, and just as you try to break away from his steady pace, he constrains your hips with his large hands, locking you in place. He doesn’t let up on your now sensitive clit, and instead continues to slide his tongue all around and onto your bud. You shake your head in reply, the stimulation being too much but somehow there’s this burning ache that re-approaches, and you know there’s yet another orgasm approaching.

You push his head away, desperately wanting him to get his mouth off your aching pussy.

“P-please, Please.” You plead. But he grips onto you harder and shakes his head in a “no” gesture, his tongue gliding along your clit while doing so. His lips encase around your nub again and eagerly sucks the life out of you. Your legs shiver.

Namjoon mumbles within you, “Cum on my face, again.” His hand slaps your ass cheek again and again, sending you into your second orgasm that seems more powerful than the first. Your entire body convulses, eyes roll back, and you let out a screeching cry. He gently rubs the area he’d smacked before, and peels his mouth from you finally. He slaps your cheek again and demands, “On the couch. Now.”

You’re barely able to recover from your orgasm, and with shaky legs you set on your two feet to make your way over to the leather sofa. Joon follows behind and drops his trousers and briefs down to his ankles, kicking the garments to the side. Your met with the sight of his length, and you audibly gasp. He’s so thick, and your kitty clenches just by looking at him. His dick springs up, and you note the precum now dripping from his slit and down into a thin line.

“Come here,” He says while pushing your head onto his length. He stuffs his cock into your mouth, fucking your throat relentlessly. You grab onto his thick, juicy thighs to keep some leverage. The lewd noises of your throat being fucked can be heard through the office space. Namjoon’s breath hitches at the view of you stuffed with him entirely, his dick literally choking the life out of you. He lets out a grimacing chuckle, “Finally you can keep your mouth shut, huh? Let someone else take control, hm?” He bucks his hips forward, the veins in his arm protruding as his grip on your hair tightens, thrusting himself back and forth into your mouth.

His head falls back in ecstasy. Your nails graze along his bare thighs, begging for a release of air. And you assume that inspires him to torture you even more because before you could process what’s happening. He pinches your nose shut, to keep you from breathing, and holds himself at the back of your throat. You pound his thighs as a result.

“Look at me.” He commands, and with tears streaming down your cheeks, your gaze follows up to his hooded lids as you eagerly pound your fists onto his thighs and scratch the flesh. You’re convinced you are on the verge of passing out until he lets out the sexiest moan you’d ever heard in your life and that’s when his thighs tense up in your touch, his lower abdomen contracts, and bursts of warm cum shoot down your throat. You shut your eyes to focus on not passing out, but somehow with his added jizz, it doesn’t help. You continue to smack his thighs to signal you’re on your way to Heaven if he doesn’t let up. You feel his cock gradually easing out, and then he says…

“Fucking swallow.”

And so you do, managing to swallow every drop of him and finally he releases his throbbing member from your mouth. As soon as you are let free to breathe in some kind of air, you suck in a huge breath — followed by some coughs to gain your breathing back, and then an odd sensation within your head subsides. Once again, you can’t recover. Namjoon pulls you by your hair and shoves you toward the leather sofa.

“Bend down.” And you do exactly as you’re told, obeying him as if you’re a puppy and he’s your owner. Namjoon pumps himself and slaps your ass once you bend completely over, arching your back to push your bottom out more profoundly.

“Such a good slut.” He slaps your ass and you whimper at his harsh demeanor. Somehow you manage to wiggle your goods at him, wanting to know what that monster between his legs feel like, and your craving doesn’t go unnoticed. Namjoon tugs your hair, making you arch your back whilst he forces your entire form against his chest. His stiff length is pressed against your ass, and you find yourself grinding against him for just any type of friction to ease the level of horny that’s overcome your being.

“Look at you all needy for my cock. I don’t think you’re fucking ready for me, hm?” His hold on you grows tighter, and the sharp pain of him pulling your strands, mixed with his cock rutting against your behind, strangely makes your core twitch — a dire need of attention.

“Oh, but Sir! I am ready. Plea-” With that, Namjoon shoves you forward back into doggystyle. And when your back isn’t arched enough to his liking, he takes a big blow to your ass, prompting you to adjust your posture. You’re sure by the end of this so called “session” you’ll slip from his establishment sore and bruised. The tip of his cock nudges at your entrance, he runs himself along your dripping labia, making sure to smother himself in your wet. The rising heat in the pit of your core makes you anxious. You can’t remember the last time it had been when you’d had sex, and you supposed Namjoon knows this. You’re not even sure what all this means. How could you both look at each other the same after this is all done? Will he let you go after this? Maybe refer a different counselor? Or will this continue to be what his “sessions” are about? Or is this just a one time thing, and after today, everything will go back to normal? But how could that be possible?

Your on-going thoughts are put on a hold when a slight stretching-like burn approaches so sudden, and you’re left with a wide-opened mouth. Your nails scrape the material of the couch you have left to hold onto. Namjoon feels like nothing you’d ever felt before. He’s big, you know that. But holy hell does he feel different than he looks; it’s something you can’t explain. With toes curling, you call out his name as if he’s the only person left on the plant. What did you do to deserve this kind of dick? Your walls clamp eagerly around his shaft, sucking him in entirely — like a vacuum.

“Shit! It’s been that long, huh?” He admits, gritting his teeth at the sentiment of how tight you are. “He- Let this go?” He adds, while bottoming out completely. Pulling almost all the way out to slam right back into you — your body jerking forward in the process. “S-so fucking stupid. How- Mmmm.” Namjoon can’t contain himself; he pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts, trying beyond his limits to not blow his load into you so quickly.

“How could he let this go?” He pulls out and slams back into you again, this time with a harsh punch. He reaches for your hair, balling his fist into the strands, because for this time, he can’t just take it easy on you.

“More for me, then.” And that’s when you scream as if you’re being murdered — more like your vagina is. Namjoon begins a brutal pace, ramming into you and having no second thoughts about it.

“Oh! Unfgh, S-sir!” Your eyes shut instantly and face scrunches up in pleasure; you’d honestly never felt so high in your entire life. If you could be fucked like this at least once a week, you’d truly die happy.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been wanting to fuck you dumb?” He shoots with a hint of hostility. “I was relieved-” He punctuates with a harsh thrust, “To find out you both divorced… Wanted to fuck the shit out of you ever since you stepped foot into my office… Told me every fucked up thing he ever did to you.” You’re not even sure why but his confession has you smothering him in your juices. The fact he had a desire for you was hot, and you would be lying if you said you wouldn’t have fucked him the first time you had a session with him — that is, without your now ex-husband. Maybe Namjoon is right, maybe you are a slut. But who cares?

Namjoon releases his pull on your hair and pushes your head forward, you languidly fall onto the cushion and bury your face within it while he continues to bang out places in you that you never knew could be reached — his animalistic mannerisms are beyond your comprehension.

“Oh, yes!” You cry out, your figure shifting upwards from his vigorous pace. You nearly topple over at how hard he’s fucking you, and at this moment, you can’t fully think straight with him fucking you senselessly. The only sound you’re aware of is the slapping of his balls against your ass and his grunting here and there. You mumble a few incoherent words, and then a few slapping sounds follows. Your ass cheeks now burning with a hot passion.

“Look at you-” Namjoon grunts as he stills himself inside of you and twists your body around, leaving you to rest on your side. “Can’t even speak properly with my dick inside of you.”

Slap.

“Should clog this little pussy of yours up with my children.”

“Fucking come here,” He hauls you toward him to bring you closer, his cock sheathing itself fully inside of you. Not able to form proper words, your nails drag across his thigh and you wrap your leg around his waist, the heel of your foot digging into his bottom cheek. And just as you blinked, he wraps his hand around your throat and begins plunging his cock in and out of you repeatedly. You’re so close to cumming again, that you find some strength to ease your way between your legs and mindlessly rub your clit. Namjoon notes your actions and squeezes your throat harder.

“Yes! F-fuck!” You attempt to choke out; then Namjoon rams into that certain spot within you that has you seeing stars, and your orgasm floods your entire self that you’re shaking underneath him.

“Fuck yeah,” He coos while releasing your throat and slapping your face left and right. “He was so stupid, hm?” Your walls contracting around him has his cock twitching in a way that he knows is a warning of his impending orgasm. You clench so tightly around him, almost locking him in place, whilst creaming all over his shaft.

“Say it.” You whimper in reply, and he grips your face in place to keep you from squirming. “I want you to say how stupid your ex-husband was for leaving you. Say it now.” Your body continues to tremble and grow limp, yet you force the words from your mouth that even you surprised your own self.

“M-my ex-husband was stupid for leaving me, ahh!” Namjoon jams into you again, his thrusts now a much sloppier pace while his thumb reaches for your clit again, rubbing relentlessly. You wiggle around to somewhat ease your now sensitive, aching clit. But he doesn’t let you. He slaps your face again and pins your arms above your head, his body landing fully on top of yours. He licks the pads of his fingers to find your clit again, and you don’t think it’s possible to cum for the fourth time today, but you’re convinced Namjoon would prove otherwise.

“I want you to cum on my cock again.” He states, with a much softer tone this time, added with, “And tell me how much you’re worth having.” Another wave washes over you, granting his wish. Your chest heaves up and down in an attempt to fully gain your normal breathing pattern back. Your writhing body sends a shock of pleasure straight to his groin, and the need to cum is slowly advancing.

You cling onto Namjoon, and slip “I- am worth it. I-I’m worth having,” It’s as if your simple doing of following his command pushes him over the edge. But your added comment fuels him on even more.

“Cum inside of me, please. Make me full of your children.” With that, Namjoon shudders above you. His member pulses inside of you, streams of his cum color your insides. His lavender-stained strands glue themselves to his forehead, and it isn’t until now that you realize how wet your skin is, courtesy of the leather material below you.

Within the silence that subsides afterwards, aside from the melody of the both of you panting, Namjoon breaks the ice.

“You’re more than enough.”

[mooncxmm]

TODO'S PETAL

Mentions - Blowjob

Todoroki had just taken a shower before you had texted him. He thought he would give you a surprise when you get to his dorm. The day he met Nakamura was the day you and him were going to get frisky, yet again. This wasn't your guys first rodeo with one another. You guys took one another's virginities. 

When he heard your guys secret knock, he got excited in more than one way. For the past two days, he had been frustrated. He was frustrated with his father and the whole Nakamura situation. Then he was sexually frustrated. 

Once that door opened, the first thing that you noticed is that your boyfriend was only being covered by the waist. 

God. The things this man did to you. 

"Hi Shoto," you said softly. This wasn't your guy's first time, but he knew how to make you flustered. 

"Petal, I've missed you,

Come on in," Shoto said. He steps out of the way. 

"Thank you boo," You say as you walk in his room. 

It's been awhile since you have been in his room. You look around a bit, seeing he had some new posters. 

Arms wrapped around your waist slowly, your boyfriend rested his head on your shoulder. He plants sweet kisses on your jawline, then he moves down to your neck. 

A blush crept on your face as you felt your boyfriend grinding against your ass. 

" I need you right now Petal," He whispered in your ear, nibbling down on your earlobe right after . 

A shiver goes down your spin and a small moan comes out from you. You needed each other. It's been like two weeks since you guys have done anything sexual with one another. You guys usually have sex once to three times a month. 

Giving in, you start grinding up against him. You let out your sweet moans as Todoroki kisses your neck and grinded against you. 

"I can't wait to ravage you," Shoto growls in your ear. 

You felt so hot and bothered right by his words and his actions. "Pretty please Shoto..ravage me," You moaned out. 

Shoto had enough of the teasing, he stopped everything he was doing to you. He let’s go of you and walks over to his futon, he pops down on it and lays down on his back. Halfie removed his towel and started to stroke himself slowly, he looked up at you then his cock. 

"You want some, Petal?" He asked you in that sexy ass voice of his. 

You bite your lower lip and slowly nod your head, in which he motions for you to come to him. Licking your lips, you walk over to his futon. Hungrily, you watched him stroke himself. 

"Baby please suck me off. I just want to feel your pretty lips on my shaft," He said bluntly. 

Hearing this made you smile, and you implemented. You remoistened your lips, and put the tip to them.

Slowly, you opened your mouth and moved in his meat at the same pace. Gradually, you took in as much as you could and started bobbing. You swished your tongue on the inferior aspect of his shaft, sucking at the same time. While focusing on the pleasing, you take a second to look up at Sho, and you can see him propped on his elbows with his head back. You were doing exactly what he liked

You pulled your head up, saliva on the rim of your mouth. ”Hey, what are you doing?”You teased, your hand on his dick, wet and doing it’s thing.

He gave out a mix of a chuckle and a groan; this is exactly what he liked.

You grinned and, keeping your hand in motion, added back your soft, wet lips, eventually making space for his tip, and sucking on it again while maintaining a pleasurable speed and grip.

“O-Oh my g-god,”Sho groaned out, keeping himself on his elbows, he gripped the cushioning of his futon

At that point, it felt like you had to just pleasure the shit out of him, and you had somewhat forced his cock down your throat, choking on it a bit.

Your eyes started tearing a little bit, and you could really feel his tip moving in and out of place right behind your uvula, shortening your breath, and even causing a little bit of a gag.

Sho had shifted his right arms weight onto his left, and used his right to grab a handful of your hair to keep shoving in as much of his dick as possible down your throat, making your eyes form tears.

He pulled your head up off his cock for a second to look at your slobbery mouthed, teary eyed face, and he smirked. You were his little toy. After a couple seconds of him admiring your pleasure caused mess, he put your head right back where it was and continued.

You could feel he was near to his end, and ended up taking more control while he still had a handful of your hair, going back to using your hand on his shaft and mouth on the tip.

“Petal..”He groaned out in a low tone. This was your sign to start going even faster, and you did.

He pushed at his wanted pace, and you put in the work till the big surprise.

Un-fucking-fortunately, his phone rang. And if not our dorky friends, which it obviously wasn’t, you could imagine who it was.

“Are you gonna get that?” You said in an annoyed tone, stopping when you were almost going to get his surprise.

“Out of sympathetic annoyance, I guess I will,” Sho said in an annoyed and defeated manner.

He leant over a bit behind where he was on the futon, brought his black phone close to his face, accepted the call, and brought it to his ear.

“Hello?” he said monotonely.

"Hey Sho! I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to be moving into the 3-B dorms! Isn't that great?!" Nakamura says. 

 

“Er-Yeah that’s cool,” he said, looking up at the ceiling from boredom.

"Now we will be together most of the time!" Nakamura says and you can hear her clapping her hands happily. 

“when’s this happening?” he questioned, looking back down and locking eyes with you, giving a little squint.

"Oh! I'm moving into the dorms in a couple of days! Isn't this exciting Sho?!" The brunette exclaims. 

Shoto had the phone to his ear, but you could hear her tiny annoying voice from the spot you were in.

“I guess that’ll be cool, you’ll probably enjoy meeting the other people near your dorm.”

"Yeah! I'm hoping I get along with everyone, even your friends! Actually, who was that H/C girl from two days ago?" She asked. 

“Oh Y/N? She’s just my best friend,” he said, making a silly face at his comment.

"Oh really now? I hope her and I can become really good friends," She said, but honestly you can hear the jealousy. 

Her jealousy made you let out a small giggle, even Sho let out a small but stifled chuckle.

“You can try, but I don’t know if you’re really in her scene, if you know what I mean,” he said. You knew it was just a way of hopefully getting Nakamura to leave you alone, but it felt like praise in a way. 

That small bit of praise made you want to savor and bring back alive the moment that bitchass Nakamura had interrupted, so you ended up grabbing his shaft again, and just pursing your lips on his tip.

"Oh? What's her scene like then?" She asked. Damn, this girl likes to ask a lot of questions now

“Why do you want to know so badly? So many questions about someone who’s a stranger to you,” he said, you could see he was hoping for you to do more.

"I'm just curious,Sho, about your bestfriend," She said. 

“Natural curiosity is cool, but if you really want to know more about her, there are other people you could get opinions from,” rolling his eyes out of annoyance as his words came out.

Nakamura let's out a whine. "Don't be cold to your girlfriend now. I just wanna know about your friends," She said. 

“I don’t think I was being cold, just honest,” looking back at you and raising his eyebrows up & down, you’d think not was probably in reference to you still holding his shaft; giving you the idea to start getting busy.

"Oh… Haha I guess I just wasn't expecting that from you, my love," She said. 

“Realistically, you don’t really know me,” he said, locking eyes with you again, giving a pleased smile. “We basically just met, expect the unexpected I guess.”

"Yeah you're right. I'm sorry honey bunny," She said sickly loving. 

‘My love? Honey bunny?’ you thought,‘that’s some cheap-ass cheesy nicknames. The slight annoyance jealousy mix made you bust out the big boys, and started moving up and down his shaft, rotating your hand, AND back to sucking the tip, swirling your tongue as well.

“I-It’s fine Nakam-mura,” he spit out; you were really doing the most, and expecting more reactions.

Nakamura had noticed that he was stuttering a bit and asked,"Is everything alright Sho?' 

“Y-Yeah, I’m-I’m doing just fine, just a little dist-tracted,” he let out. You thought about easing up on his dong, but it was priceless hearing Nakamura on the phone, just being oblivious.

"Well then so what are you up to?" She twirls her hair around her finger as she had asked. 

“Just at the d-dorm, getting ready to go out with a couple of f-friends,” he let out the smallest of groans in the ending of his sentence, playing it off with a clearing of the throat.

"I wish I could be there so you can introduce me to your friends," She pouts. 

“Maybe a different time, you’ll meet most of them soon enough,” he put his hand over his eyes, and layed down on his back after being propped on his arm for the longest. “My friends are pretty well known, you could say, give it a couple days after you move in.”

"Yeah! You're all pretty famous even though we haven't even graduated and became heroes yet," She said. 

“A-Ah it’s not that big of a deal, who expected our q-quirk types in this day and age? Not to t-toot my own horn, but it’s pretty ast-tonishing.” You thought it was cute but remarkable, in a way, how kept together Sho was acting, but it felt like you could amp it up.

"Yeah, that's true our quirks are pretty amazing! I hope if we do have kids that our child has an amazing quirk like us!" She said happily.

“Kids?” He somewhat blurted out, probably from a mix of surprise or shock and your gnarly oral skills.

"Yeah! I really want kids with you Sho. I think we would make great parents!" She said. The thing was that she barely knew anything about Shoto, and she's already thinking about kids. 

“Look Nakamura, I gotta g-go,” he said, moving his hand back to your head, bobbing it.“I’ve got s-some things t-to do before I go out, I have a-a schedule to go by.”

"Awh okay then Shoto baby, see ya later then," She said then made a kissy sound. 

“Laters,” he said, then hung up, throwing his phone back to where he had originally grabbed it from and continued pushing on your head, grabbing a handful of hair again.

“F-Fuck baby,” he groaned out, you knew what was coming. And like before, you put in a bit more work and speed.

“I’m..I’m gonna..c-c..” he squeezed out, and you felt the final push; warm liquid finally oozing into your mouth.

He finally let go of his grip on your hair, and you slowly raised your head, gently sucking as you went, and finally swallowing.

"Thank you sir for the meal," You say then licks your lips. 

[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ 26

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ Word Count: 4.9k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, smut, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist

act four ➻ part one

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It only takes three knocks against the cool metal of the door for Seonghwa to answer it. He blinks down at you, eyes a bit wide in surprise, but you don’t let the surprise stay for long. You tug the edge of your sleeve a bit, folding the material against your palm as you fidget in front of him.

“Can I come in?” You ask in a quiet tone. You’re barely able to look him in the eye, but he seems to find some amusement in that.

“You act like we don’t do this every other night,” he teases before stepping to the side to let you into the room. “Although you’re considerably earlier than usual tonight.”

Admittedly it’s because of the nerves running through your system. Less than a day has passed since you informed Hongjoong of your identity as a Siren, and you spent the night cold and alone yesterday, thanks to Hongjoong bringing Seonghwa to the bridge to discuss things he’d said to you as well. Plans. One after the other, all options and possibilities, yet all pointing to the same end. Your revelation to him bought precious time – time that he intends to use to confront the man who betrayed him and provided a dead lead. Not the one who tore his crew apart from the inside out, no, but Hongjoong had claimed to you that this was the next best thing, and an equally terrifying adversary. He didn’t divulge the rest of his plans to you at that moment but swore to once he and Seonghwa solidified the strategy moving forward.

And thus, it is stress that brings you to Seonghwa’s door early, and the inherent need for comfort.

The door slides shut behind you, a sharp snap of the metal, and you turn to look at Seonghwa’s face at last. It’s almost intimidating how good he looks without any effort, black strands of hair framing his forehead with gentle curls. You dare to take a few steps towards him. He arches a brow as you push his back to the door, and one hand comes to rest on your hip as though by instinct.

“I-I was hoping… that, uh–” you cut yourself short. The embarrassment comes from nowhere; it’s not the first time you’ve done this, and you doubt that this will be the last, yet Seonghwa’s mere presence always makes you seize up and struggle with the smallest words. The hand on your hip shifts a bit. Then, all of a sudden, your back is the one hitting the cold surface of the door. Seonghwa’s hand remains on your hip, but he brings his other one up to cage you between the door and his body. The action makes you feel so incredibly small. Your breath catches in your throat, and you sink your teeth into your lower lip to keep a gasp from slipping out.

“Were you hoping that I’d fuck you senseless beforehand?” Seonghwa asks as though it’s the most casual question in existence. You bring a hand to his chest, slapping him for the crude comment, but don’t deny his words. Your scandalized expression merely masks the hammering beat of your heart in your chest.

“Only if you think you can manage it,” you whisper back, tilting your chin up a little. Seonghwa’s lips twitch a bit at the insinuation in your words. The hand on your hip slides upwards to land on the base of your throat, but he hesitates there. Eyes flit up to meet yours before you drape a hand atop his. A small gesture, but a confirmation and an encouragement. As his grip tightens pleasurably around your neck, you secure a leg around Seonghwa’s waist, drawing him closer to your body until all you feel is the heat of his presence. “More…”

That’s all you need to say for him to let loose a barely restrained growl, and Seonghwa secures an arm behind your back before lifting you off the door. Lips meet in a mess of teeth and saliva. Your back curves to mold against Seonghwa’s body like it’s what you’re made for, his tongue flicking over your bottom lip and begging entrance only once before you grant it.

“If you keep saying things like that, I won’t be able to hold back,” Seonghwa murmurs, still pressed tight to your lips. You thread your fingers through his dark hair and tug him back just far enough to whisper a response.

“What if I don’t want you to hold back?”

That’s the thing you’ve noticed about Seonghwa in the time you’ve known him. He is ever so patient with you. You would say that he’s guarded, but it’s anything but that in reality. He merely lays out the options before you and tells you to make the choices. He tiptoes around you like you’re a ticking time bomb, and while you appreciate his gentle nature, a large part of you just wishes that he would do whatever he wants rather than waiting for you to tell him what you desire.  

When your lips part and your back hits the mattress, Seonghwa seems to read your mind. His gaze remains soft as he bends over your reclining body on the bed, knees finding purchase on the comforter on either side of your hips. Even though you don’t have to, you still choose to voice the question lingering on your lips, if only for verbal confirmation, if only for more than that thinly veiled emotion in his eyes that you’ve missed so much in the past few years.

“What are you waiting for?”

Seonghwa hums without offering an answer for a few moments. He pulls back to straighten his back, fingers dipping down to tug the hem of his shirt out of the confines of his pants. In those moments of silence – as few as they may be – you doubt that he’s going to respond at all. As the shirt falls to the floor, toned muscles and tanned skin on clear display now, he gives you his answer.

“For it to not to be a question anymore.”

The silence between you is palpable in every sense. He moves with careful and hesitant movements, hands bracing on either side of your head when he returns to hovering over you. You slide a hand up the firm expanse of his chest only to reach around his neck and tangle your fingers in his hair. Offering a sharp tug, you revel in the hiss that whistles through his gritted teeth and the way his eyes darken with lust as he looks down at you.

“It was never a question, Park Seonghwa.”

“I don’t mean a question from this–” Seonghwa lifts a hand to press a single finger to your mouth, an amused grin toying with the corners of his own lips. That same finger slides further down to linger mere centimeters away from your chest, pinpointing your heart behind the confines of your skin and bones. “I mean from this. You have suffered enough from people who simply desire to take from you. Forgive me if I want to give you that which you are owed.”

“Just say ‘I like you’ and move on,” you scoff, tone light and teasing to deflect the harsh wave of emotions that washes over you. Seonghwa’s smile turns fond as he mulls over a response.

“Saying only that much wouldn’t do my feelings justice.”

This time when your breath catches and you choke on air, Seonghwa is there to capture your lips again. His slot against your mouth like a hot cushion, and he doesn’t wait for permission to slip his tongue into your wet heat. You can only offer a soft whine before he pulls away too soon for your liking.

“You never gave me permission,” he murmurs, breath fanning over your face. “Don’t ask me to take control. Put it in my hands and trust me with it.”

“My trust is already yours.” You exhale a small sigh and sneak your hands down to loop your fingers around Seonghwa’s belt. “And I’m giving you permission to not hold back any longer.” Seonghwa waits, eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitance. Once he’s satisfied, he dips back down and presses his lips to yours once more. The kiss is languid this time, as though you have all the time in the universe to be under Seonghwa like this. He doesn’t remain there long; instead, he drags his lips to the edge of your jaw. You’re tempted to tell him not to leave marks, but as soon as his teeth drag over the column of your throat, all reason leaves your body.

“If I were to exercise a lack of control… I would make sure everyone in the universe knew what I was doing to you.” There’s a breath of hesitation, only long enough for him to suck a mark to your skin, one that surely blossoms with reds and purples. “Because I’m greedy–” he nips at your skin as he travels lower “–and selfish–” hands slip under the hem of your shirt and goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch “–and I want you all to myself.” Seonghwa pauses his ministrations only to deprive you of your shirt, ridding the offending material and giving him more access to the unmarked skin underneath. “I would ruin you if you let me.”

“Then why don’t you shut up and show me already.” You release a huff, an indignant sound that brings a laugh out of Seonghwa. He hums a bit before tilting his head to the side. The look in his eyes is nothing short of predatory and hungry, a gleam that causes the coil in your gut to tighten further. Seonghwa’s teeth graze the junction of your neck and shoulder. He bites down hard on the skin there, not hard enough to draw blood but hard enough to elicit a prolonged moan from your lips. The sound spurs him on, tongue lapping over the skin he bit to deepen the bruise.

“Perhaps I should go even slower then? Give you a lesson in patience instead?” Your hands are fervent on his belt, rushing to tug the leather away from his body, but he stops you by placing his own hands atop yours.

“Don’t you dare.” Part of you wants to hit him, the other part wants him to merely hurry up and get on with things.

“As you wish, princess.” His brow quirks as he pulls back to sit up straight. His hands replace yours on the belt, and he rids himself of the material with much more luck than you had. You move to divest yourself of your pants, his movements encouraging you onwards. You don’t even get them halfway down before Seonghwa is stopping you, body wholly void of clothing now. He catches your hands in his own and tugs them up in one quick movement. The action brings a heady feeling with it. Seonghwa’s strength catches you off-guard, his lithe muscles exhibiting more power than you recall him having. “You surrendered all control, love. I’ll remove the rest of your clothing when I see fit.”

He moves and speaks with a certain cockiness – not one that is goading like Hongjoong’s or infuriating like Yeosang’s. The lust in his tone is thick like the air between you, and as much as you want to surrender every last bit of control in your being, something is holding you back. Seonghwa seems to notice that, hand gripping your wrists like a vice and keeping you pinned to the bed with ease, but he doesn’t move any more than that. Again, his eyes are searching yours.

“You say that you’re being selfish but am I not the selfish one?” You whisper before you can stop yourself. Seonghwa lifts his chin, eyes darting to the side as he formulates a response.

“We don’t have to do this.”

“I want it though.” A pause, a breath, then — “I want you.”

Seonghwa’s lips draw together to form a thin line. “But you don’t want this to be nothing but a fleeting feeling. You want something that lasts, something more than what you only had a taste of before. And yet…”

“I’m afraid to take it,” you finish for him. “When I let go of all control before, I lost so much. As much as I trust you, my mind refuses to push that thought to the side.” Seonghwa’s lips twitch into a smile.

“Once more,” he whispers, hands sliding down to find the hem of your pants. “If it’s what you want, let’s do this once more.” He hesitates over your skin, but the burning path of his fingers lingers. He passes the choice over to you. Sets out the options for you to make the decision, gaze ever so soft as he looks down at you. “And if it’s time that you need, I can be as patient as you need me to be. Whatever it is you want this to be… whatever it is you need me to be… I’ll do it for you.”

“And what if I want more after this?”

“I won’t take more than what you give.”

“Even if I ask you to?”

“I trust your heart more than I trust the words that come from your lips. There are many ways I would wish to have you… but unfairly is not one of them. I can sense your distress, yes, but I can’t pretend to understand your heart better than you do. You’re asking me to answer a question that only you know the answer to.” As much as you don’t want to admit it, Seonghwa is correct. Even though unspoken, you are asking him to serve your emotions on a silver platter, tell you what you are currently feeling and what you’re supposed to feel.

“Once more… with feeling,” you say with a nod. It’s more for yourself than it is for Seonghwa, but he smiles down at you nonetheless before leaning down to lay his forehead atop yours.

“I wouldn’t deprive you of that much.”

You don’t fully understand what he means by that. When you open your mouth to ask him though, Seonghwa cuts you off by cushioning your lips with his own again. He moves like he never missed a beat, like that pause for conversation was nothing more than a few seconds. You can tell that he’s taking your words to heart though; the kiss is slower this time, if possible. He doesn’t proceed without your encouragement, only beginning to tug your pants down when you drape your arms around his neck. You hook your legs around his waist once he completely divests you of the clothing. It only takes moments for his hand to press between your legs, nudging your folds apart to drag the pads of his fingers over the arousal pooling there.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he hisses through gritted teeth as he pushes a single finger into you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging roughly on the dark locks until he brings his lips back to yours. The two of you move as though in a trance, and your tongues press together fervently until you have to pull back to breathe. Seonghwa is quick to slip another finger in, curling them deep inside you, and the action has you releasing a string of throaty moans. Rather than letting your lips meet again, you drag your mouth down the smooth expanse of his neck and take the spotless skin between your teeth to repay his marks in kind. You release him with a lewd pop of your lips, a string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his neck.

“I hope you still plan to fuck me senseless,” you tease through a breathy whine. Seonghwa laughs, hot breath cascading over the shell of your ear, then he catches your cartilage between his teeth. It’s meant to be a teasing action only, but he hits a nerve that has your spine curling.

“I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise, princess.” You’re about to urge him to hurry up when his fingers slip out of you, and you instinctively tighten your thighs around his hips. His cock slides home in one swift thrust. The moan that leaves you is nothing short of obscene and loud – too loud, most likely, but you can only hope that the others are still too preoccupied with dinner to be listening in on your activities. Seonghwa sits up on his knees, hands seeking yours and your fingers thread through his without question or hesitation.

His eyes find yours. He remains completely still like that for several moments, and at first, you think it’s because he wants to give you time to adjust to his size, but even after you wiggle your hips a bit, he stays put. The heat of his stare seems to almost unmake you, take you apart bit by bit and leave you raw and bare under him. His next movement is a sudden one, but pleasurable nonetheless. It’s with a great deal of force that he pins your hands to the bed on either side of your head, cock thrusting in and out of you in a way that’s too sinful for words. You could come undone right then, but you hold on for as long as you can now that there’s uncertainty about when this might happen again. It’s not a thought you want to have and not one that should be on your mind now of all times. When Seonghwa rolls his hips against yours, the thought perishes and is overwhelmed by pleasure instead. The way in which he fucks you nearly makes you want to be selfish and greedy; it makes you want him to do the same as well, but he’s given you a chance. He’s given you patience and kindness, as much as he claims to be selfish. You want to at least honor that kindness, even if you can already guess what your answer will be.

His thrusts find a faster pace, and each one seems to hit harder than the last. If not for the chorus of moans tumbling from your lips, you’re certain that you’d be able to hear the bed squeaking and straining under your combined efforts. The slide of his member inside you is pure bliss. You have to squeeze your eyes shut to keep him from seeing the way your eyes roll back from the sensation.

“O-Oh, fuck, f-fuck, Seong… Seonghwa,” you babble, chin dropping to the side as the heat of your orgasm approaches. “I’m go-gonna cum, please, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me then, princess,” Seonghwa purrs. The smile twisting his lips is sickeningly sweet, and all it takes is one more pointed thrust for you to come undone under him. He follows close behind, reaching his high with nothing more than a bitten-back groan. The warmth hits you hard, and even though you’re already spent, you let loose one more weak whimper before the breath leaves your lungs. Your chest heaves as you recover, and you blink violently at the ceiling past Seonghwa’s sweat-stricken face. When his lips brush your jaw, you twist so that your lips can meet, hot breath intermingling with his as he indulges you in an open-mouthed kiss. The emotion that twists in your gut is one that’s familiar, but also one that you’ve run from in the past. You felt it the first time you slept with Seonghwa, that warmth that scared you so much and overwhelmed every other sensation in your body. Strangely, it’s peace that washes over you. Not regret or pain or disgust. Just… peace.

…

And as it turns out, ‘once more’ became ‘twice more, plus once in the shower for good measure,’ but you really have no complaints about that because of the way Seonghwa fucked you while you had your face pressed to the cool tile of the shower wall. Frankly, you think that Seonghwa would have asked to go for another round if not for the dinging from his wristband and Hongjoong’s stony tone interrupting an otherwise intimate moment. Which is why you find yourself standing in Hongjoong’s quarters alongside Seonghwa in front of the captain’s desk well past the time you usually go to sleep. You wish you could blame Seonghwa for wearing you out, but it’s getting progressively difficult to keep your eyes open. He doesn’t seem affected at all himself, which is wildly unfair because Hongjoong’s drawling monotone is about to put you to sleep.

“We’ll need three teams for entry,” Hongjoong says through a sigh, paying your dragging yawn no mind. Seonghwa folds his arms over his chest and looks down at the map before Hongjoong, red and blue streaks covering the map in various places. You’ve all but forgotten what the map is supposed to represent – the capital maybe?

“You have Yunho down as well. Why’s that?” Seonghwa peers at Hongjoong’s unreadable expression, blinking up from the paper. Hongjoong glances between the two of you without saying anything for several moments.

“In case of emergency.”

“What kind of emergency are you expecting if you’d bring Yunho off the ship that’s not far from the arena?”

Arena. That’s a word that has been popping up incessantly since this conversation began, but no one has bothered to give you an explanation as to why it’s being thrown around so much. In fact, no one has bothered to tell you much of the plan at all or what the end goal is. It just seems to be an unspoken understanding between Hongjoong and Seonghwa, and it makes you feel like nothing more than a setpiece in the conversation.

“The arena is currently run by Vladimir the Bloody.”

That catches your attention.

“I know him,” you cut in, feeling more awake all of a sudden. “Well, not like personally know him, but I ran a file on him while I was in the military.”

“Did you?” Hongjoong regards you with curious eyes. You bob your head in confirmation with little enthusiasm and drag your tongue over your bottom lip before motioning down at the map.

“He’s technically the reason I was branded a traitor. The files I stole – there centered around a black market deal between the King of Eros and Vladimir’s crew.”

“Corruption in the military? Who would have thought?” Hongjoong’s tone is as biting as it is sarcastic, and the laugh that follows holds the same emotion. “What was Vladimir getting out of it?”

“Full sanction for any and all of his dealings. In return, he would sell out fellow pirate crews to the military officials nearby.”

Seonghwa scoffs upon hearing your explanation, arms falling to the edge of the desk as he leans over it to look Hongjoong more evenly in the eye.

“Which is why the arena is still up and running. The military shut it down for illegal gambling and cage fighting when it was under Commander Song. But if it’s under different leadership now… under Vladimir’s leadership when he has full sanction–”

“The military won’t bat an eyelash in his direction as long as he gives them what they want,” Hongjoong interrupts, nodding a few times in agreement. “Which makes this confrontation infinitely more difficult. Vladimir has never had respect for other crews, but… to sell them out? Have them murdered? Would he do that?”

“Would you?” Seonghwa’s question is spoken in a smooth and even tone. You blink away from Hongjoong, not wanting to know the answer, and he never provides a verbal one anyway, to your great relief.

“I need to be in the forward team, but Mingi can’t come with me.”

“Mingi can’t come at all,” Seonghwa insists. Perhaps you’re just stupid or slow, but the pieces finally seem to click in your mind.

“For six years, he fought in an arena here on Kebos before they were outlawed. He would win every single time. Every fight. Flawless record. By the time he was sixteen, he was at the top of everyone’s bet lists and at the top of the arena, which was expected because his father was in charge of the arena. He had won countless matches and beaten plenty of people. Kill after kill. Apparently, he was always eager to fight and kill. He was taught that people die every day, so no life is valuable or worthy of mercy. Death is natural, and it isn’t wrong to end someone’s life even if they’ve done nothing wrong. His body count… it’s unimaginable.”

“This arena – the one Vladimir runs – is it the same one Mingi fought in?”

Hongjoong and Seonghwa exchange a quick glance before turning to you with equally surprised and confused expressions.

“Jo-Jongho told me about… the – yeah. He told me,” you stammer, drawing your hands close to your chest. Hongjoong hums in acknowledgment and brings a hand up to thumb at his chin.

“Seonghwa, you and Yeosang can come with me in the forward team. Y/N, I’ll send you with Wooyoung and Yunho.”

“Neither are fighters,” Seonghwa counters. “She’s the only one who can fight on that team.”

“She shouldn’t need to fight if there are no issues.”

“That’s a big if, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa insists, chin dipping a bit.

“What? Now that you’re fucking her, you suddenly doubt her abilities to defend herself?” Hongjoong’s jeering question causes you to choke on saliva, and you cough behind the back of your hand to recover while Seonghwa manages to maintain a flat expression. “If you’re asking why I wouldn’t keep the two of you at my side, that would be too risky. You have to be at my side as my lieutenant, Seonghwa. The best way to keep Y/N safe and out of harm’s way is by–”

“Putting her with people who can defend her.”

“No, it’s by putting her with people who won’t draw attention.”

“You think Wooyoung won’t draw attention?” Seonghwa’s tone rises a little, but it doesn’t daunt Hongjoong in the slightest. The shorter man merely stands up straight and folds his arms over his chest while staring Seonghwa down.

“San and Jongho can quell Mingi, Jongho better than anyone. This isn’t going to be easy for anybody on the crew, but Mingi is a priority. The two of you need to be safe, yes, but trust that I put at least a semblance of faith in your abilities to stay alive and not be taken captive. Jongho has to go with Mingi, but Yunho cannot go with them. Yeosang only trusts Yunho, Jongho, and myself to keep Wooyoung safe in his stead but refuses to let Wooyoung be anywhere near Mingi in case of emergencies. I need Yeosang at my side with you for intimidation purposes only. Yes, Y/N and San could switch places, and she could go with Jongho and Mingi. However, in the event that Mingi suffers an episode, San is better equipped to help Jongho handle it than Y/N is, considering she’s never experienced it firsthand. Don’t you see that this is the best course of action?”

“I do, Captain,” Seonghwa responds, tone flat with defeat. “But revenge isn’t the best course of action no matter what.”

“I understand that you fear for my safety, Hwa. We both know that I didn’t become the most feared pirate in the universe without having to take risks. I need information. I need to know who my information broker really was, why they lied, why I was given a dead lead, and where the hell Jin is right now. Be it luck or fate, Y/N has given us precious time to get the answers to these questions. If anyone is going to have those answers, it’s going to be Vladimir. We’ll reconvene tomorrow to tie up the last few stray threads. The two of you can return to your… activities now. I need to make some calls.”

Seonghwa doesn’t offer an answer, but he doesn’t need to because Hongjoong turns away from the desk to move to another part of the office. You don’t wait for either of them to usher you out again, heading for the door without a word. Seonghwa follows you, but not without looking back at Hongjoong’s pacing form at the other end of the room. You dare to breach the topic once the door to Hongjoong’s room hisses shut.

“Are you worried?”

“Worried isn’t the right word for it,” Seonghwa admits, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “I fear that this might not end the way Hongjoong hopes it to.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Consider this… if you were forced to suddenly returned to the military without warning, forced back into the place you hate the most and have the most regrets, how would you feel?” Seonghwa pauses, but it isn’t to let you formulate an answer. He turns to look at Hongjoong’s door and blinks at the metal with an expression void of emotion. “He’s going to unmake Mingi if he isn’t careful. I don’t think he realizes that.”

✧✧✧ a/n: i almost said surprise but then remembered that i am in fact 30 minutes late sdfjuisdhfuih okay but anyway! hello yes! first chapter of act four! how do we feel! i feel like not a lot happened? this acts as a big set up for what’s to come and there are so many hints and crumbs scattered throughout this chapter asfoijsdofij okay but anyway yes i hope you guys enjoy lemme know what you think :3 oH ALSO HI YES SEXY NEW BANNER!!!!!!!

if you would like to, you can take the survey here! if you would like to be added to the taglist, just let me know!

taglist: @faeriewoobin​​ @sugarrimajins​​ @atinyinwonderland​​ @2504-life @lil7bluedragon​ @sparklychangbin​​ @jeong-uwu​​ @jeonartemis​​ @anothershorthuman​​ @xxbluestrifexx​​​ @haotheheckk​​ @noonawriter​​ @lostscenarios​​ @nlost21​​ @mirror-juliet​​ @okokokok123-45​ @purple-aeon​ @theoinkypiglet​ @toothlessshiber​ @atinyarmyx1​ @simpforhyunjin​ @hwangwoosan​ @takitaro​

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

[echo-three-one]

Hello, can you please do a one about how a threesome would be between Frank, his partner and Alex Mason

This was a wild request anon. And here you go. I can't say no to askers. Besides I think I liked where this one went... 🥴

⚠️ NSFW CONTENT DO NOT INTERACT IF THIS BOTHERS YOU

Graphic descriptions of Sexual Acts and Anal ⚠️

There I said it. and for those hard headed enough to be warned, here you go.

Wish Granted

Frank Woods x Partner x Alex Mason

Frank's girlfriend placed the tray of lasagna on the dinner table. It was their anniversary and he said he'd try to grant one of her wishes. She didn't exactly know which wish it was but she was prepared for it, in fact she was excited that she felt giddy all day.

The doorbell rang multiple times, like some kid pressed the button rapidly while playing a video game. She chuckled as she knew it was Frank, it meant something else when he does that, an inside joke that had been running ever since you lived together.

She placed her apron by the counter and hurriedly rushed to open the door. Behind it was one sexy Frank Woods, holding a bouquet of roses and a box of chocolates and much to her surprise, Alex Mason, Frank's partner in crime, hugging a huge teddy bear.

"Hey, you." she greeted as Frank quickly entered the room and placed his gifts on the table to hug her tight, squeezing her ass in the process. Alex shyly followed and sat by the sofa, his hands not leaving the gigantic pink stuffed animal.

"I brought Alex over, if you don't mind. hehe" he winked and she smiled at Alex, a smile with a little bit of hidden meaning. Alex smiled back but he had actually no idea what is going on. The only reason he was here was because Frank needed help carrying the bear.

"I should get going." he excused himself only to be stopped by Frank, whose hand was holding his shoulder.

"Oh no no no. Let's have dinner first! My baby makes the meanest lasagna!" he boasted Alex agreed as he was quite hungry and it smelled really good, so they made their wsy to the table.

Dinner was awkwardly quiet. Alex noticed that Frank and his gorgeous girlfriend were just staring at each other, no other words but he felt like they were talking in subliminal messages, something he doesn't quite understand how it works.

"So, how was your day?" she asked, her voice was cute and endearing. It's like a spell forcing you to tell the truth.

"Same shit. Different day. Except this day just got a whole lot better now that you're here." Frank answered. Alex couldn't believe what he was seeing and hearing. This was far from what he predicted Frank to be in a relationship.

"What about you, Alex?" she continued. Alex stopped his hands midway. His mouth was open and the lasagna fell back to his plate.

"I um…. It was good." Alex's voice croaked. He was surprised that she asked him. And to be honest, he was intimidated by her presence. Someone who had the power to control Woods' temper is a force that shouldn't be meddled with.

"Great! It's a good thing you two are having nice days. Frank told me a LOT about you!" she mused and Alex shifted uncomfortably, his eyes shifted to Frank, who was smiling oddly toward him.

"Get this, pal." Frank nudged him and he snapped back to reality, eating his last slice of the pasta.

"Today marks the first year my babe and I got together and we were kind of exploring a little bit…." he trailed. Alex swallowed his food with caution, he wasn't sure how this night is going to turn out as the couple began radiating a bizarre aura and tone in their voices.

"… so we were wondering if you are uhm.. how do I say this… open for a menage a trois." Frank completed, causing Alex to almost choke on his food. It explained everything, how Frank was too giddy at work and how he treated him quite well throughout the rest of the day. It was all because of this.

"I mean if you're not into it, then you could just say no and we'll forget this happened." he added, his hands waving surrender.

Alex cleared his throat and the couple turned to him, awkward silence filled the room as they waited for him to speak. He sighed.

"Just this one time." 

~

Frank's partner emerged from the bathroom wearing lingerie that hugged her curves tightly, as if inviting everyone who could see it to slowly strip it away. The men were sitting on the edge of the bed, a huge space beside them reserved for her. Frank's jaw dropped at the view, while Alex still felt awkward and evaded eye contact. 

"Hot damn." Frank whispered and followed it with a whistle as she catwalked across the area and knelt infront of them. Her hands touched their bodies, Frank on the left, Alex on the right trailing her touch across their chests, down to their crotches. She cupped each of their slowly hardening cocks and smiled at their reaction. Alex's shoulders started to relax letting his tension clear out and accept that this was truly happening.

Frank grunted and sighed, her hands weren't even touching their cocks yet but she could feel the heat building inside them already. She slipped her bouncy breasts free from her bra and guided both their hands to play with it. Frank chuckled and quickly devoured his side while Alex was just stuck there. She felt his cold hands and prompted to guide him all the way, get him comfortable as it was going to be a long night.

Soft groans escaped her lips as Frank's mouth made wonders to her senses while Alex's conservative hands were slowly enjoying the feel of her nipples. Then as soon as they enjoyed themselves on her tits, it was time for her to move down.

She had known Frank's every inch quite well. She knew which jeans were buttoned, which were locked and which had belts and as soon as Frank knew it, his pants were already on his feet and his cock sprung against his shirt.

"Someone went through the day on commando…" she mused, her lips started trailing on his veiny manhood. Her hot breaths wrapped around Frank's cock. Her other hand was cupped against Alex's black boxers, he helped himself pull his pants down while she focused on Frank and her hands teasingly rubbed him against the polyester fabric. 

"Mmmm…" she moaned in unison with Frank whose head was now looking up and enjoying her mouth wrapped around his cock, making circles using her tongue not leaving every inch unexplored. Alex watched, feeling a little jealous and a lot turned on, he felt the pain of his erection trying to cut free but she was gripping it quite aggressively, he can't pull the underwear down.

She choked as she slowly lifted her head up his length, leaving trails of saliva drip down his cock, making his boyfriend smile in delight. Her hand gripped on him, slowly jerking it up and down with ease, thanks to the lubricant which came from her mouth. She then turned to Alex, who looked uneasy, and released her grip making Alex drop his underwear immediately revealing an equally impressive package. She giggled in delight as she started to plant soft kisses around him, while still jerking Frank. One kiss lead to another until such time that her mouth was already sliding up and down his length and making gagging noises.

The trio were taking turns exchanging gasps and moans, not caring if they were too loud enough to disturb people. They were having a wonderful time.

A few more gags and jerks and Frank and Alex stood in unison, tossing their pants away and pointed their tips on her mouth as she slid it sideways, giving each cock an equal amount of attention. The men's hands were lifting their shirts up as to not disturb her pleasure-filled performance, swallowing each length alternatively while the other one gets jerked and leaving no man unsatisfied.

Frank started to feel excited as he quickly grabbed something by the nightstand and instructed Alex to lie down on the bed. The friend followed and spread his legs wide enough for her body to fit while his cock wiggled through the erection. She slowly positioned herself on top of her boyfriends best pal and sat on his mouth. Alex immediately understood what this meant and started slurping her pussy, his tongue explored each of her lady parts while Frank gave her a kiss that the French people would start to take notes and update their ways.

They continued this until she was wet enough for action, thanks to Frank's mouth play and Alex's expert tongue painting skills, she was ready to take them both at the same time. 

She positioned herself atop of Alex's tip and slowly teased it by letting it feel a little bit of the sides. Alex brows furrowed in anticipation, his previous hesitation was engulfed by the lust and now he was willing to partake seriously at the initial proposal.

Frank gritted his teeth and pulled the foil wrapper open, quickly wrapping his length with the thin rubber, rolling it with ease. She flattened herself against Alex's firm chest, letting him feel her perked nipples against his and at the same time giving his boyfriend the perfect angle of her asshole.

Alex grunted as she slowly slid herself letting him in smoothly, their combined efforts made it easy for Alex's cock to slide in her as she moaned at each of his movement. 

"Aaaah..." she gasped as Frank's lubed cock simultaneously entered her other hole, his whole sensory organs confused as to which part of her should feel more overpowering. The newness of Alex's rod, or the pain from Frank's stick. Both of them moved differently inside her, making her create a different sound of mixed emotions.

"Damn babe, I like how tight this is... It feels.. new." Frank mused, his thrusts were slower as she was tighter, but he considered how this would initially hurt so he let her have him on her own accord. Alex on the other hand, was feeling the rush, once he got accustomed to her tightness, he immediately picked up his pace, like someone who was depraved of such feeling. Like a caged animal to explore in the wild.

Frank's partner didn't complain, she couldn't and she wasn't able to. Only short inaudible noises escaped her mouth as she was penetrated by two men like the way she dreamed of. It was a wish come true.

Red scratch marks filled Alex's strong arms as she gripped them tightly, nails almost deep enough to create scars. Alex was already biting his lip, hands locked onto his other one on the small of her back as his hips swayed like there was no tomorrow.

Frank was starting to feel the ease as he drops a few more of his lubricant, as he felt the slides were easy, he began matching his pace with his friend, sending the girl into a ride to pleasure town.

It went on for quite a while until they both stopped and slowed down. They were almost reaching their peaks and needed to settle down a while for more.

Alex got up and took a taste of her breasts, this time he was holding the both of them and was no longer shy, she liked this side of Alex, the one that always wanted to go out and get wild. Frank went down to her pussy, and boy did he know how to make her happy. His fingers expertly maneuvered its way inside her, making her lift herself up using her legs. She was squirming while trying to react to multiple pleasure impulses as both men were driving her crazy.

She now went on her knees and Frank effortlessly pulled the rubber away tossing it by the bed. Alex stood up and unbuttoned his clothes, showing her his marvelous body, something she secretly wanted to see. She started swallowing his cock slowly until Frank immediately thrusted from behind making her choke on Alex's. This made her look back at Frank to complain but the wonderful view of his naked boyfriend who's arm muscles clenched while gripping on her hips and the way his chest muscles slightly bounce on each of his thrusts made her forget about it and enjoy it instead. With her head looking back to Alex's cock, she resumed the sucking while being fucked from behind.

They tried every possible combination and positions all throughout the night. The couple took advantage of Alex's participation as they were sure this wasn't going to happen again. They made the best of the moment and the two men came more than once, they burst their loads all around her body drenching her in hot sticky excretions made from lustful desires.

Alex eventually slept at Frank's house claiming he was too exhausted to drive home. The next morning he was slumped on the couch and back to his normal responsible self. Maybe sometimes, you just have to let loose and relax yourself, he thought.

[writeblrfantasy]

excerpt from a council of golden swords: tattooed cairic king

planned this scene weeks ago, forgot about it, enjoyed writing it immensely. poor kayani, they're so in love

anyway i hope you love this as much as i loved writing it, acogs has been kicking my ass this week and this was a nice battle won

~

Asma crosses her arms. “Take off your shirt.”

Kayani chokes on their own saliva. “What?”

“I’m going to paint you. Take off your shirt.”

Kayani stares at her, open mouthed, a thousand indignities resting on their lips. Asma taps her foot, paintbrush held between two fingers, frowning impatiently. No excuse, no argument, no plea will ever sway her. She is unmovable.

Kayani stares at the floor and loosens the laces of their shirt before whipping it off. They ball it up and stand there holding it until she snatches it from them and tosses it on the sofa. “Sit on the stool,” she says, “and for Cai’s sake, stop looking so stiff. Actually look like you want to be here. You don’t even have to smile. Just look a little less queasy.”

Queasy for a different reason, Kayani thinks, but obediently sits on the wooden stool in the center of the red, blue, and gold room. The yearly trip west, spent in close quarters with almost all of the Cairic army, has driven the modesty out of them, but everything is different with Asma.

She sits on the ottoman and drags her easel closer to her, a tray of paint pools sitting beside her on the sofa. The easel legs scraping against the floor makes Kayani startle. “Relax,” she orders in a tone that’s anything but relaxing.

Kayani folds their hands and tries not to slouch. The hairs that itch when they fall into their eyes will be the least of their worries over the next few hours. Why else would Asma paint them shirtless if not just to torment them?

Once Asma has everything apparently set up to her standard, she looks up and rakes her eyes over Kayani’s torso. Her breath hitches. “You have so many tattoos. I forgot you would.” Her voice disturbs the quiet of the room, breaking a sacred peace, or however peaceful the two of them alone can get.

“Isn’t that why you wanted to paint me shirtless?” Kayani asks. “Why else would you?”

She hides her face behind the canvas and doesn’t bother with an answer. Kayani prepares for a long set of hours filled with waiting, an aching back, and keeping their walls firmly up.

After ten minutes of silence, Asma working quietly, she asks, “What does that one on your chest mean?”

Kayani resists the urge to look down and earn themself their first don’t move, idiot. They could trace the lines of the * in the darkness, in their sleep. “The death of my mother.”

She gasps. “You got tattooed when you were just a child?”

They shrug. “I’ve known some babies who got tattooed after birth because of a difficult or scary pregnancy, complications that should’ve killed them. Parents, too. We use our tattoos to cope with many things, many emotions, but prominently grief. For many people, the experience itself of sitting there for ten hours while a needle pokes into your skin—it helps.”

“By enduring pain?” Asma asks.

Kayani shrugs. “Some people find solace in pain. It’s something real they can grip onto.”

“That’s the funny thing,” Asma says, peering out from over the canvas. “It isn’t.”

Kayani’s eyes drift to the tattoo on her forearm, she follows their gaze and pulls her sleeve down. Kayani remembers it all too painfully well—her poorly stifled tears and cries while getting it, their own desire to comfort her squashed by the hatred in her eyes. It’s their fault she has it.

“What about that one?” she asks, gesturing to the wings covering their shoulders.

“Are you asking because you’re genuinely curious,” Kayani asks, “or just trying to fill the air?” They want to poke further into her reasoning, but they don’t want her to change her mind and throw them out. Alone time with Asma is bliss as much as it’s torture, and they’ll take every last bit of it.

“I got the wings one year after becoming king,” Kayani says. “To celebrate not being assassinated.”

She snorts. “Get better guards.”

“I am my own best guard besides Ajar and Samad. I didn’t want to trust anyone else. The palace guards on rotation can only do so much against an assassin hired by someone who was angry I became king and not my sister.”

Asma rolls her eyes, the soft strokes of her brush soothing to listen to against the faint chatter of birds. “And the one on your back?”

“You’re not painting that one. You can’t even see it right now.”

“Answer the question, dimwit.”

Kayani grins. As much as they love to nag Nikolai about being attracted to the ones who seemingly want nothing to do with you, they’re no less guilty. “I got the first part done after I survived the Trials.” After healing up upon their return, they went straight to the royal tattoo artist. They knew exactly what they wanted: Ajar and Samad standing side by side, blue eyes pointed to the moon.

The two of them are right outside—if Kayani’s quiet, they can hear them scratching at the door—but an ache for them runs through their chest regardless. Sometimes they’re convinced the three of them share a soul.

“I would’ve gotten the outlining done before I left for the Trials for good luck and gotten it filled in after I came back, but I didn’t want to deal with unnecessary pain. I got the second part added on after I came back from my first trip west with the army. That time, I did do it in two halves for good luck, like many of my soldiers.”

Going to get those outlines and later the full lines done with their soldiers had been one of the most rewarding experiences of their life. Sitting beside ten others in a salon, all laughing or grimacing or telling stories to work through the pain reminded them that they could still mix with normal people. Winning the Trials didn’t make them special in the soldiers’ eyes, and Kayani liked it that way.

Their second back tattoo consisted of a light brown stag leaping across the center of their back, over the dogs. “Each trip after was another add on.” They’ve since added a grassy field for the stag and the dogs to rest in, stars for the moon, flowers and sparkles in a mix of reds and browns.

“Your entire body will be covered by the time you die,” Asma says.

“That’s the goal.”

As the hours go by, Asma asks, and this? What about this? That one? What are the ones I can’t see? Kayani answers her every question, shares every story, every memory. They don’t tell her about the one on the back of their ankle, small enough to miss. A golden paintbrush.

Finally, when the sun is halfway to setting and Kayani’s lower half has gone numb, Asma announces she’s done. Kayani wobbles to their feet toward the canvas, but she picks it up before they can see it. They sigh quietly but don’t question it—until she turns around.

She’s painted them in a background more heavily red than the wallpaper behind them. It brings out the red in Kayani’s tattoos, which are obviously the star of her painting. The edges of Kayani’s muscles are blurred, but the lines of the tattoos are as clear and sharp as they are on their skin. Their eyes are halfway open, tired, and Asma captured their faint smile at something she said, maybe some memory that took them away.

The sun from the glass wall behind them drips golden light onto light brown skin, a glowing backdrop for the tattoos. Kayani sat with their left forearm up, right hand holding that wrist, but Asma painted the opposite to hide the tattoo there.

Kayani has never had the eye for beautiful artwork, nor the time to study why people devote their lives to it, but this makes them reconsider. Not because it’s them, of course, they’re not that vain. Because it’s Asma.

“I will call it ‘Tattooed Cairic King’,” Asma says. Kayani can’t take their eyes off her nonchalant expression, the casual way her fingers grip the canvas. She completed this in a day and she acts like she’s holding a piece of cheap furniture. Doesn’t she know all of her artwork will be studied meticulously after her death merely because she’s a queen?

Not just because she’s a queen, Kayani thinks. Because she’s an incredible artist. They wish they had the courage to say so, but knowing Asma, she’d make some crack about their narcissism.

“Where are you going to hang that one?” they ask. “Which guest room or dining hall or office will get the pleasure of seeing my tattoos?

She fixes them with a look. “My suite wall.”

The floor seems to swim under them.

“I thought you hated me,” they manage. “As you pointed out, last time we were together you told me to never come into your sight again.” They gesture to the canvas. “I think that violates your rule.”

For once, Asma’s silence seems to be because of her loss of words, not dramatic pause or the bother of answering a question. “It’s some of my finest work,” she settles on. “I’d like to admire it often. Let people admire it when I’m dead.” She closes her eyes and runs her finger along the top of the canvas. “Also, I’d like to do your back sometime."

“What?” Kayani sputters.

“Oh, come on. If you can survive a needle pricking your skin for ten hours, you can survive sitting still for another six.”

That’s not the problem, Kayani thinks, but only nods. Cai have mercy.

~

kayani being shook by asma's ability to Art is me @ all the talented artists here yall rock

also if you noticed the tsoa inspiration for "and this?" then props to u

acogs taglist (lmk to be added/removed) @magic-is-something-we-create @inkflight @spencer-nyx @writing-is-a-martial-art @ashen-crest @wisteria-eventide @nikkywrites @denkis-phone-charger @myhusbandsasemni @lynolord @ettawritesnstudies @golden-apple-s-blog @chazzawrites @pen-of-roses

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

And he said, I hope you know how to swim

A/N: this is for the gift exchange from @itfandomprompts! My giftee is @iheartthoreau who asked for shy skinny dipping lovers and jealous Eddie. I’m sorry it’s out so late, I hope you enjoy it anyway! 

Summary:  The Derry midnight breeze is freezing, Eddie notes, still dressed in a shirt and pants and dreading having to get rid of them. He’s bare foot now, standing on top of the quarry and peering down into the glinting lake. Next to him, also bare foot, Richie looks over his shoulder, and laughs, bright and innocent. 

warnings: skinny dipping, mentioned of nudity (but nothing graphic)

read on a3o

The atmosphere of six best friends who’ve just moved past the worst stages in their life cackles in Eddie’s brain.

He’s buzzed up, energized beyond all logic by the laughter and loving gestures so carelessly tossed around in their group. Pennywise is dead, and with it the looming threat following each of them around and the teasing unhappiness hinting at what they were missing but not giving any clues as to what.

It’s all over now, and a road full of new opportunities lays ahead of them. Everyone is acting loose, ecstatic with the weight that fell off their shoulders. Eddie’s feeling a tad guilty too, for calling Myra and informing her that way about their upcoming divorce that he’s going to set in motion as soon as he’s had a good night sleep, but he felt so brave after surviving a literal killer clown, that he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

A part of him was also frightful that he’d lose his courage, between now and getting home, that he’d look around his house and accept that this was all he was destined for, a mediocre life with a wife he didn’t love and a job that sucked the joy out of all employees. Myra deserved better though, and that’s why Eddie’s guilty eyeing his phone, debating on calling her back. He won’t take back what he said, because he’s relieved to have put it out in the open, but he’s unsure if he should have been more empathetic towards her feelings in all of this. If he should have ended the call after telling her to take care.

Bev notices his wandering eyes from where she seated beside him on the couch, the woman still laughing a stitch, shifting forward and hiding his phone in between seat cushions. Out of sight out of mind so to speak.

‘We’ve got time to worry about it tomorrow Eddie.’ She says, and she’s right. Tomorrow both him and Bev will have to deal with the intricacies of divorce and separating a company and a home. Tonight is reserved for the losers only.

‘Yeah Eds, and here I was assuming that after twenty years we’d have some stuff to catch up on.’

Richie regards him from the floor, legs tossed up upon the couch with his body upside down. His glasses are sliding off, but he’s lazy to fix them, so he looks like even more of a goofball than normal. If Eddie could, if he didn’t feel like his intentions would be even more noticeable if he did, he’d scoot over to Richie, adjusting his glasses and letting his fingers trail his cheek and bask in the skin to skin contact.

‘You never did anything interesting before we went to college, what makes you think you’ve done something interesting after?’ Eddie’s tongue is sharp, a façade he builds to stop speculation about his feelings towards Richie, though the truth is that he is intrigued and he craves to know every small detail about his life outside of Derry.

‘No you guys are not starting this again. I’m sick of your bickering,’ Bill interjects, rolling his eyes at the pair.

‘I reject that big Bill, we’re hilarious, you can’t be sick of us bickering when you haven’t had the pleasure of hearing it for the last twenty years. Michael, back me up here buddy.’

‘Sorry Rich, I’m not getting involved in the slightest.’

‘Yeah guys come on, can’t we have one quiet night in?’

‘What so Eddie can just call me boring and I’m supposed to let it slide? Me? I’m the fireworks on the Fourth of July, the highest roller coaster in the park and the whipped cream on strawberries, but I am not boring.’ Richie changes positions, almost accidentally knocking over his beer bottle. He theatrically waves his arms back and forth, trying to animate his words and add conviction.

‘Okay, okay you’re not boring, but don’t overrate yourself either. The most adventurous thing you ever did in high school was skip a class to read a comic book in the school’s bathroom. Not exactly daredevil behavior.’

Bev sips from her whiskey, winking at Richie whose face turns beet red for a reason Eddie can’t decipher. It’s not until Bev conspicuously blows out a gust of air with her lips puckered that Eddie connects the dots.

‘Didn’t you say you ditched because you were smoking with Beverly? Dude did you fucking lie about that? I was worried you’d die and get cancer ever since that day you piece of shit.’

‘No I definitely did smoke. I swear.’

‘You’re not kidding anyone Rich, I vouched for you all those years ago, but I’m not doing it again. Little Richie was a comic book nerd who just pretended to be really cool. We never ever smoked together.’

The losers all holler, clapping their hands together and cheering on the exposure of their foulmouthed friend, debunking all the story Richie apparently made up where he and Be had to sneak out at night to smoke inconspicuously, with the exception of Eddie and Richie. Eddie, because he’s busy glaring at Richie and Richie because he’s busy tapping Bill’s hand away, teasingly disheveling his hair.

Eddie wishes he was brave enough to give these little affections to his friend, especially after witnessing how soothed Richie got when Eddie hugged him after Neibolt, when he had dropped his face into the nape of Eddie’s neck and stayed there, swaying on his feet of exhaustion. It would only make him a good friend, a best friend, but Eddie is still so damn afraid.

He might have had the power to separate from his wife and kill an abstract form of his deepest fears, but Bowers angry yelled words, such as fairy and faggot, swung to his head any time he and Richie graveted closer while walking, haunt him even now.

Touching is off limits the words tell him, so he shows affection the only way he’s ever known towards Richie, by bickering and pulling pigtails.

‘I should have expected that.’ Eddie nods vehemently, laughing as Richie’s mouth drops open in a shocked manner.

‘Are you kidding me? Eddie Spaghetti is the one telling me I’m a loser?’

Eddie flips him off, ignoring Mike’s whispered; ‘he’s got a point’, in favor of levitating his full attention on Richie. The giggling in the room elevates an octave higher.

‘You all laugh’, Richie addresses the entire group, ‘but was I not the one who came up with the idea for the list?’

Abruptly, all sounds snap off, as everyone is snapped back to the past. Even Richie is, at face value, confused about the word he spoke, until the concept and creation of the list is brought to the forefront of everyone’s mind.

‘Holy shit.’

‘Oh my god Mike please tell me you still have it.’

Mike shakes his head with a far-off look. ‘Sorry guys, I don’t know who had it last but I never found it again.’ He’s saddened by it, like he did them all an injustice by not holding on to a flimsy piece of paper.

The List, capital L, was nothing more but a checklist, composed with all the fun and dangerous things the losers all had hopes of doing after graduating high school. Eddie remembers now, the hushed laughter and uncompromisable joy that came with the simple idea of these things, how everyone pitched in and added dare after dare while him and Stan exchanged glances and hoped to god that some things would never be executed.

‘That’s okay Mike, I’m just happy we can all remember making it.’ Ben smiles reassuringly Mike’s way, who smiles back and takes a deep breath.

‘Wait, I think I can recall some of the things we wrote on there. Hold on’, Bev squeezes her eyes shut and snaps her finger in the hope it will get to her faster. ‘Oh’, she exclaims, startling Bill who chokes on his own saliva, ‘we were going to visit Europe, do a high rope parkour, rock climb and some other things I can’t remember right now.’

‘Didn’t we also agree to volunteer in a hospital and go camping in the national forest?’ Ben asks, awaiting confirmation.

‘Yeah we did, Stan was throwing a fit over going camping because of the environment and the dirt, but we were well on our way to convince him.’

‘Wow,’ Richie breathes, chest puffing up and head dropping back into the couch so his face isn’t visible to the rest. ‘I forgot all about that, but come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I did most of those things with Bryan.’

And who the fuck is Bryan? Certainly not Eddie, sweating in fear from the things that were being listed, searching for the most extreme dares he’d seen happen on tv to suggest, doing anything he could to impress Richie. Eddie was terrified of most of the activities on the list, like Bev’s idea to waterski in the ocean, or Mike’s zip lining idea, but he would have done them if it meant he could bask in Richie’s attention, impress Richie to rid himself of scared baby Eddie was so sure he must have been in Richie’s eyes. So who the hell was this Bryan stealing his thunder like that?

‘Who’s Bryan?’ Bev inquires with a smirk, winking at Richie blush ridden face. Eddie’s jealousy rears its ugly head, flaring up and making his head woozy. He simultaneously both considers choking Bev and thanking her for the question.

With Richie’s secret fresh on his mind, the way he’d so shamefully admitted that he was gay and they were the first people he’d ever found the courage to tell, Eddie wondered if Bryan was perhaps someone Richie had been romantically involved with.

Richie would have deserved it, Eddie argues in his mind, to at least for a short period of time have someone love him back as fiercely as he dons it out, but Eddie’s also furious that he stole Richie out from under his nose.

Which is illogical, because even if he and Richie had managed to stay in touch, and Eddie confessed – not much chance there, as Eddie didn’t even tell anyone he was gay when Richie did - there was no guaranty that Richie would’ve reciprocated.

‘No one snoopy’, Richie argues with a jittery leg, ’just some guy I hung out with for a while.’

Bev appears unconvinced, but she’s also respectful towards Richie's decision to not say anything. ‘So which ones did you complete?’

‘I went to Europa senior year of college, smoked a bunch of weed, went zip lining. The normal kind of stuff.’

Zip-lining, or smoking weed for that matter, causes Eddie skin to crawl, not that he’d ever admit it. He hates that that’s not the case for Bryan.

‘Well thanks Rich, none of us ever did anything on the list without the other losers. I guess you didn’t miss us too much.’ It’s not fair, of course it’s not. He can tell by the eagerness to spend time together that Richie was very lonely, and experienced the same aching emptiness where his friends were supposed to be as the rest of them.

The bitter tone of Eddie's speech, and the way Richie’s eyes turn a little dimmer extinguishes the fire of Eddie’s envy. Richie deserves better than him in every way. An apology lies at the tip of his tongue, ready to jump into the open and hopefully aid the wounds before they’re fully developed.

Sensing the impending hurricane of trouble on the horizon Mike is eager to intervene, playing mediator for two forces that are about to collide. ‘Well I mean, we probably wouldn’t have gone through with most of them anyway.’

‘Speak for yourself’, Eddie waves him off, spiteful that Mike has a good point. He would have found a way to undermine their plans and make it so that he could back out without appearing like a meek lamb, for at least half of the activities. If he had known about Bryan’s existence though, he would have done anything. He feels ready now to do anything, to one up him and establish his spot as Richie’s number one.

‘Prove it,’ Bill dares with a lopsided smirk, certain he’s got Eddie beat. He sustains eye contact, reaching for the bag of chips on the table and gnawing on it with the most smug aura Eddie has ever witnessed him having.

‘I would’, Eddie defends fiercely, ‘but we can’t do any of the things in Derry.’

‘Sounds like a cop out to me.’

‘Yeah, sure Big Bill, because you can easily find a zip line here in Derry. The town that refused to spend money on renewing the library back in the eighties is no doubt going to have that installed by now.’

‘What about skinny dipping?’ Ben proposes innocently, having no idea the kind of strain he’s putting Eddie under.

‘That’s a great idea Ben, I forgot we put that one on the list.’ Beverly acknowledges despite Eddie’s frantic head shaking. The room temperature drops down and rises back up steadily, at least according to Eddie. He’s starting to sweat, something he never does and takes pride in – in the office he’s the level headed one, and that’s saying something – and he pulls at his collar to allow some air to ventilate.  

Everything except that. A swim in a dirty lake that was most likely infected was a whole plate of different bacteria, and being naked in front of the man he’s in love with is not something Eddie is particularly fond of. He almost asks for a different thing to do, but that would truly be a cop out, and he both refuses to back down in front of Richie and give Bill the satisfaction of being right.

‘Good luck with that Eds, question before this all goes down, am I allowed to use this in my next bit?’

‘Actually,’ Bev interrupts, ‘I think you should join him too.’

‘Hey I wasn’t the one that said I’d be willing to do anything.’

‘No, but you were the one who added it on the list in the first place. C’mon Richie, It’ll be fun. For us, not for you guys, but we’ll get a good laugh out of it.’

Richie is hesitant, same as Eddie, readjusting his glasses again. Eddie is sure that if he says the word Richie will tell everyone to back down for him. He wouldn’t even make fun of Eddie for it, should Eddie give any indication that he wouldn’t want him too. He thinks back to Bryan, and how he wouldn’t have backed down for such a thing, and how in awe Richie must have been seeing the man abandon all safety precaution and go for it, Eddie’s mind is made up instantly.

‘Let’s do it.’ He says without leaving room for argument, nodding at Richie as he looks to him. He hopes Richie will go with it, but is also confident that of course he will. As kids they followed each other everywhere, and surely that hasn’t changed.

‘Really? I mean yeah – sure I guess. Bring it on.’

-----

The Derry midnight breeze is freezing, Eddie notes, still dressed in a shirt and pants and dreading having to get rid of them. He’s barefoot now, standing on top of the quarry and peering down into the glinting lake. Eddie’s jumping from one foot to the other, annoyed that dirt is clinging to his skin and branches are piercing his soles, even more aggravated at the idea of cleaning them in infection filled lake water. Bev better keep her end of the promise, and be waiting near the end of the lake with a pair of fresh pressed towels.

Next to him, also bare foot, Richie looks over his shoulder, and laughs, bright and innocent.

‘I forgot how high this was.’

It is high up, but they’ve done this jump at least a hundred times before, so Eddie’s not worried about the plunge. He’d assume Richie isn’t either, but the man keeps glances towards the path they took to get up here, uncharacteristically silent.

‘It’s okay if you're too scared to go through with it Eduardo, I won’t tell the others.’ Richie smirks when he notices Eddie’s glance, crossing his arms over his chest.

The movement makes his shoulders bulk, highlighting just how much bigger Richie is compared to Eddie. Eddie’s mouth waters, and he starts to worry about how he’s going to have to get through seeing Richie’s naked shoulders in the flesh.

‘Just get undressed will you? Hurry up.’

‘Why? Eager to see my bare ass?’

‘Yeah, because who doesn’t think jumping naked into a lake they frequented as kids is the epitome of sexiness? No you self-centered idiot, I want to get it over with so I can go back to the Inn and grab a warm shower.’

With one last peek, Eddie moves backwards, standing away from the ledge and begins to unbutton his shirt, before thinking better off it. Richie picks up on his hesitation, shifting backwards too and motioning his head towards the ridge.

‘Do you want me to show you how it’s done?’

‘No,’ Eddie objects, ‘I’ll go first.’

‘Why? I’m not going to stare at your junk while you're jumping in if that’s what you're worried about Eddie. I’m not that kind of gay.’ Rarely does Richie toss aside an opportunity to grant Eddie another humorous nickname, so the use of his real name spooks Eddie just enough that he opens his mouth to apologize without even realizing what he’s apologizing for.

Richie’s facial expression, set in a grimace and squinting his eyes defensively, are a dead give away that Eddie’s words are being taken the wrong way. If only Richie knew that Eddie wanted him to go in first so he could avoid the same temptation Richie thought he was forcing on him.

‘Richie no, that’s not what I meant I-.’ Heartfelt compliments are not something Eddie has had a lot of practice for these last few years, and he’s not doing a good job catching up on them either. Therefore he sighs and hopes that he can find another way to prove to Richie he’d never accuse him of something like that. ‘Whatever, just go first already.’

‘Fine but turn around okay?’

Eddie listens to him, back towards Richie and the jump off, though he doesn’t really understand the request. With Richie comes a lot of flair, and he was more or less been prepared for a joke about how Eddie got to confirm how big his dick is in reality.

He waits and listens carefully for the sounds of clothes being dropped on the ground, and he can’t stop his mind from secretly imagining how Richie looks like without them once he distinguishes it.  Eddie shakes his head, scolding his own mind.

The next few moments are filled with raspy breaths originating from Richie, footstep sounding further away and then closer again in an erratic pattern. He must be scared of the jump. Under normal circumstances, Eddie would ask to jump in at the same time, but since Richie asked Eddie not to turn around, he won’t.

‘If you don’t jump in the next five minutes,’ Eddie teases, the way Richie used to tease him, ‘I’ll push you in.’ A second later Eddie hears Richie’s loud whooping as he plunges down into the dark water.

Eddie spins, the only thing greeting him the dark with very little light clearing up his path, from the moon. He’s having a hard time to even see where the cliff ends, and he can’t disguise Richie in the water at all.

‘I’m coming in’, he yells to the void, in case Richie can’t discern his body in time and needs to move out of the way. He takes off his clothes, goosebumps erupting on his skin, and folds his pants and t-shirt up neatly, touching the ground with his hands to find a dry spot to lay them on. The air is cold, and so Eddie refuses to linger on top any longer than he has to.

He jogs up to the ledge and darts off before his mind can conjure up the thousands of things that can go wrong from swimming in the dark this late at night. His body flies through the air and connects with the water in one swoop, a pit of glee bursting in Eddie’s stomach. Jumping from the quarry equals freedom, a hot summer day and love for all of his friends, but in particular Richie.

Eddie keeps his head underwater until his lungs burn, eyes closed and allowing himself to just feel all the sensations. Then, something tickles the back of his leg, and the peaceful moment is over. He kicks back the surface, away from the spot where he could swear something touched him, and searches around for Richie.

Richie, with his wet black hair clinging to his forehead, strands of it sticking out in every direction, and his droplet covered glasses, roving more of Eddie’s heart each minute they’re near each other. He’s never looked more beautiful, and Eddie has never had to fight the urge to kiss him as much as he does now.

‘See, I told you I wouldn’t stare Eds, I can’t even see anything with all these splatters on my glasses.’

The moon reflects on the water, so that it’s impenetrable, and neither Rich nor Eddie can look down and see their lower body parts.

What Eddie can see is enough anyway, Richie’s shoulders and part of his chest hold Eddie’s attention, and he forgets to respond to Richie’s comment.

His eyes land on a dark bruise, just on the bottom of Richie’s neck, a remnant of their fight with Pennywise earlier that day. Without thinking, without standing still on the consequences of such an action, Eddie swims closer, stretches his arm out, and lingers his fingertips over the bruise. He carefully positions his body to not touch any other body part of Richie’s except for his fingers on his neck.

He makes an inquisitive noise, thumb stroking over the injury in what he hopes to be a calming matter. He physically can’t pull away, entranced with the way he moves and responds to him, trying but failing to get his fill of Richie clenched.

‘Eddie’, Richie whispers, scared to break the silence and the intimate moment. ‘It’ll be fine. And hey, at least he didn’t do anything to my dick.’

‘Yeah, would have been a shame if it were to become even smaller.’

Richie snorts, retaliating the jest with a wave of dirty water aimed at Eddie.

Eddie gasps, spitting out a bit of water that managed to sneak into his mouth. ‘Oh you’re on.’

The two of them chase each other, and if it weren’t for the fact that they were both naked, Eddie would have thrown his entire body weight in the game to push Richie underwater. As it stands, they just splash back and forth until they’re exhausted and the remnants of their laughter dies out, barely enough energy left to stay afloat side by side.

‘Did you have this much fun with Bryan?’ Eddie asks, a bit envious. He hates how he’s still stuck on the Bryan thing, hates that his mind keeps popping images of them doing the exact same thing only to end it with a kiss.

‘What?’

‘With Bryan, the guy you did all that other stuff with?’

‘Oh no, me and Bryan – we were never together like that.’ Back at the hotel room, Eddie figured that that was a ploy to distract Bev, something Richie just said because he couldn’t comfortably admit the real intent of their relationship. But he’s never lied to Eddie, and his eyes, magnified by his glasses, seem so sincere, Eddie has no other option but to believe him. ‘I-I’m- some other guy already has that place all taken up.’

Eddie stupid, oblivious and dense and everything in between. He knows Richie isn’t talking about him, he knows he could never be the guy Richie would hold all hope out for – he also secretly hopes it’s none of the losers -, but he wants to be so bad. Just one time, just one kiss and he’d be sated enough to let go of his feral behavior towards any potential love interest Richie might have. Just one time.

‘Richie’, Eddie starts, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He’s taking a huge risk, by foreseeing a rejection but hoping that Richie won’t drop him as a friend because of this. If Eddie doesn’t do this, he’ll never stop wondering what it feels for their lips to meet. He’ll never get over Richie because he never got to experience any with him.

‘Can I kiss you?’ He risks releasing his lip.

Richie is visibly shocked. ‘What? What the fuck? Eddie is this a joke?’

The joke is, as usual, all on Eddie who regrets ever opening his mouth in the first place. He could try to laugh it off, say that it was a joke, but that would mean that he pretends to make a jest out of something Richie has struggled with for his entire life. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. Left with no other options but to further dig his own grave, Eddie decides to be honest. At least that means he gets to keep part of his integrity.

‘No Richie of course not, I wouldn’t do that to you. I’m sorry. Look I like you but it’s obviously one sided and I just wanted to know what it felt like to kiss you but it was a stupid request and I shouldn’t have asked you that. Oh god, I never even asked if you were dating someone –‘

‘Eds?’

‘- Fuck can we please forget I said anything so we can still hang out?’

‘Eddie?’

‘What?’

‘Yes. Please kiss me.’

Eddie gapes with his mouth open, struggling for breath and for words. He’s half convinced he misinterpreted  the words, but his tilted head proves otherwise. Eddie doesn’t question it further, counting his lucky start for once, and leaning in to his emotions and Richie, breaching the water to get to him.

Their kiss is surprisingly gentle for the ungovernable lead up prior to it. Richie’s lips taste like lake water, but deeper underneath lies a tang of something distinctively Richie. Eddie can’t wait to devour him whole once he’s cleaned up. Their lips move together in tandem, a perfect harmony that for once neither are willing to break.

They pull back, Richie’s arms circling Eddie’s waist, and he smiles. His smile mixed with the love stricken gleam in his eyes, mysteriously tells Eddie that Richie feels the exact same way he does. His chest caves with happiness.  

‘I like you too, if it wasn’t obvious. A lot more than Bryan.’

‘For the love of God can we never mention that again? It’s embarrassing. No, Hush’, Eddie says urgently, covering Richie’s mouth with his palm when he opens his mouth to conjure up another joke.

‘Fine,’ Richie says while pulling away from Eddie’s hand. ‘How about we talk about something else then? How the fuck are we supposed to get to our clothes?’