#but nothing ever leaves a permanent mark

[danothan]

handcanoning based on some frames/panels… this bastard is never going to die in my brain huh

[no-one-hears-me]

I miss all my old friends and it's sad to think that they probably don't feel the same way

[pukicho]

What's the weirdest dream/nightmare you've had?

Pukicho story time???

This happened in 2004, I lived in Ireland. I had one very particular dream that I still often think about to this day:

It started in an unusual flat, somewhere up high. It was modern for the time, it felt decidedly Y2K. Every piece of furniture, the walls, the lamps, they were all bright pink. It was so trendy that it almost felt like a parody of itself, but I was a kid, and my mind wasn't clever enough for the act of parody. I would've simply forgotten this flat ever existed if the latter-half of the dream didn't leave such a permanent mark on my memory - now I can recall every last detail.

I asked a stranger to use the restroom. The toilet was downstairs, so I opened up the door to a utility stairwell and began heading down, alone.

I could look through the center of the staircase column, it was pitch-black and there was no visible bottom. I remember going down the staircase for hours, literal hours - A dark, oppressive hum from pipes and vents blinded my ears and shook the inside of my stomach with its volume. I remember thinking how long the dream felt in this moment, I recall getting consciously impatient, but I kept going. My eyes couldn't adjust to the nearly invisible-darkness surrounding me so I put my hand against the walls and handrail for guidance and shuffled downward like a blind man without his walking-stick.

Finally, only a moment before the tension would have juddered me awake, I found the door to the bathroom. I opened it up; to my relief there was light. The room was rectangular, on one end was a boxed-shaped shower with fogged glass, on the other end, a toilet. The floor and wall were decorated by the same beige tile - it all looked hastily plastered. I sat down to do my business. At this moment, the ballooning anxiety I had felt outside had dissipated almost entirely. I sat in silence - I remember acknowledging the sheer contrast in volume between the AC-hum in the bathroom to the oppressive roar from the stairwell.

It was good to be sitting there. I remember feeling as though the dream had slowly turned into a nightmare - but consciously, everything felt right again. Nothing happened for a long time. It grew so boring and tame that my mind stopped focusing on the dream entirely, and I began fading into memoryless sleep. And then the lights went out.

At this point, sitting in a darkness even blacker than the one I had just emerged from, not even a hum could be heard. The only noise I could hear, and just barely, was my own brain-matter hitting against the sides of my ears, bellowing a deep subharmonic hum from within my own skull. Suddenly, every semblance of safety was ripped from my chest, and I sat there, feeling in greater danger than I ever had before. I felt a pressure so omniscient that it choked me -- but nothing came, nothing happened. I waited for minutes - minutes where each second could be counted down in scrutinizing specificity, but nothing happened.

Suddenly, and with no presumption, I felt coarse electricity pumping through my chest. I wrangled with myself in my own bed, feeling what felt like infinite pain pass through me. I could feel myself yelling from within the dream through the vibration of my lungs. A cacophonous buzzing bled into my ears as thousands of people screamed from within my skull. The cries of a falling choir ran-through their screams, like angels falling from heaven.

At the very same moment, a body appeared in the shower. It glowed yellow, so bright and irradiated I could hardly look directly at it. It caressed itself, clawing into its body like it was reeling from immeasurable pain. It moved unnaturally, squirming and spasming as if fast-forwarded. The glass blurred its details, but it did nothing to mask its energy. It was as if it held the sun inside of its own stomach. I felt as though an intruder entered my own mind and I had no power to stop it. Just being near it was enough to kill me, and I was already dying.

The wall of sound lasted not even one full-second - and then - a piercing zap shot me up from my bed, and that was it. I can't remember anything past that point, but I assume I went back to bed shortly thereafter, forgetting what had just happened, if only for that one night. I must have had a vapid dream, worthless and memoryless, unknowing that I had just lived a dream so dreadful that it'd stick to my psyche like tar for the rest of my life.

No other dream has ever felt that way since. It was as if a second-soul decided to visit me, a soul stronger and more omnipotent than mine. Surely a dream is just a dream, regardless of the feeling it gives you, but now I go to bed every night, wishing I'll be the only soul residing within its story.

End!!

[ervotica]

please don’t go, i love you so

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: a lil toxic!coriolanus, he’s rough with r, possessive talk, quite tame in this but imma tamp it up soon, a bit of making out and being lovey

note: i do not careee about who likes this character or who doesn’t okay i am writing about him because he is literally one of the hottest men i’ve ever seen, kay? i’m not here for moral dilemmas thank u, enjoy (yes i will follow up w smut and my young!coriolanus snow reqs are OPEN!) please please remember to comment and rb, it helps me so much!

hunger games masterlist

Coriolanus is possessive.

It sickens him to his very core, sends nausea rolling like a wave through his chest; he’s not a child. Yet, the mere sight - thought - of you engaging with any other man, even innocently, is enough to have him seeing red: white-knuckled, muscles drawn taut like a bowstring, ready to eliminate any and all threat standing between him and his girl.

It's the way those boys look at you. As if you're a piece of meat, a toy to play with that they're just begging, aching to sink their teeth into, to leave a permanent mark on. The boys in this district are barbaric- that's what Coryo thinks anyway. It's disgusting, the things that he knows they think about you.

It's been a long day in District Twelve. Coriolanus' grey jumpsuit rubs and itches and his skin crawls with an uneasiness settled at the pit of his stomach. It's a warm day, his skin sticky as he peels the top half of the jumpsuit from his slender arms and ties it neatly around his waist. The grass by the lake is damp with the leftover dew from the morning.

He catches sight of you amongst the trees, weaving and bobbing through the undergrowth as you do, your lithe fingers brushing against leaves. Your head dips and then raises as his tall figure creeps into your peripheral vision. A smile graces your features, real and earnest with all your teeth.

There’s a slight waver in your countenance when you catch Coriolanus’ own expression; his brows are knit, pushing his forehead into a crease, lips pushed together tersely.

You walk straight into his arms, balancing yourself on one leg and pushing your shoulder underneath his armpit. You needle your way in, your forehead rested against his chin, so close you can feel his breath against your face.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you murmur. You reach up to push out the ridge in his brow and your thumb traces the bridge of his nose in a way that couldn’t be perceived as anything other than unbridled affection. “Something wrong?”

His slender fingers settle against your waist. You shiver at the contact when he spins and pushes you back into a tree. The bark digs into your back as you shuffle to meet his eyes— his eyes that have suddenly clouded with something dark and possessive.

“What is it?” you ask again; your voice is becoming more strained the longer he stays quiet, your own hands snaking up his arms like vines and squeezing.

He shakes his head and drops his face to look at you properly.

“Nothing. I have you.”

“Okay.” You click your tongue, tilting your head at him. His face gravitates towards yours, breath hot and mixing with your own. “You gonna kiss me or what, handsome?”

He doesn’t need any encouragement, surging forward to catch your lips between his own; his hands are rough, kneading the soft flesh of your hip. His other makes its way up to your jaw, fingertips pressing so hard you’re sure he’s branding you. You’ve never been kissed like this, with such fervour and passion and need. You gasp into his mouth and your arm wraps around his neck to pull him further into you.

“Coryo,” you pant.

“Shh,” he forces out, his fingers suddenly an iron grip around your neck; the hollow of your throat is bared to him and bobs under his cruel touch.

“Coriolanus, that hurts,” you say, strangled. His eyes are alight with a fire, a blazing inferno roaring in his head as he squeezes your throat and laughs.

You wheeze, clutching at his wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip. He obliges you, running a thumb over the indents he’s left in your soft skin to smooth them away.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” he asks. His head drops to the juncture of your neck, arms hooking loosely around your middle as he relaxes into you. “I just wanted to feel you. To know you’re mine.”

The incident is forgotten as soon as it ends. He has a charm in that sort of way; you don’t see his faults even when he shows them to you clear as day. You’ll never see what’s right in front of you even if he wants you to.

“Of course I’m yours, Coryo. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“The way they all look at you here…” He falters. “Like they all want you. Like they want to take you away from me. You’re mine- they have to understand that.”

“No one could take me away from you,” you giggle, your temple resting against the tip of his shoulder so you can duck your head to meet his eyes. “I know where I belong. And that’s right here with you.”

“Good.” He mouths at your neck like a man starved, arms coming right up until they’re hooked just underneath your own. He pulls away heaving for breath.

“Wanna show me just where you belong?”

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

His Name | Soulmate!AU

~1.1k words

Jason Todd. That's the name that etched itself on your thigh the night of your sixteen birthday. Which is great, you have a soulmate. The issue is that you know– knew a Jason Todd. He happens to be six feet under the dirt in a graveyard you visit every Saturday. Which is not so great.

Being soul bound to a dead person gets you a lot of pitying glances from the people you know. You tell them there's more than one Jason Todd in the world. It makes your family shake their heads. You try not to dwell on the heartbreak on their faces when you tell them that, when they think you can't see it. They saw you and Jason together when he was alive. There won't be another Jason Todd in your life.

It's something you've slowly come to terms with, when no other Jason Todd finds their way to you, the idea of never seeing your name permanently marked on someone else's skin. The fact that you might never really have the person that's supposed to be yours.

That's why you might have reacted kind of poorly when Red Hood brings you up to a quiet rooftop, tugging off his leather jacket in front of you, dragging the material of his suit up and over his forearm to reveal your name on his skin.

You weren't even doing anything dangerous to get here, just at the wrong store at the wrong time, while some third-rate rouge went on and on about conquering the city. Standard Gotham experience.

What wasn't normal was Red Hood crashing through a window, brutal and efficient with every movement until each person with a gun was knocked out and beaten on the floor. Sure, you were aware he wasn't exactly a crime lord anymore, labeled a 'turned vigilante' by the press, but press also said he doesn't tend to leave crime alley. And you definitely weren't in crime alley. None of news stories of him saving people exactly calms the adrenaline coursing through you when he picks you up like it was the easiest thing in the world for him, hoisting you like you're made of glass over his shoulder and grappling you both to a nearby roof. You're alone before you even have time to process it.

You stumble back when he gently, so gently it makes your heart stutter, sets you on the ground. "Who do you think you are? You can't just grab people–" your biting words cut off as you register the black lettering across his skin. Your name. Your name is there. On Red Hoods arm.

You reach out to touch it before you can stop yourself, fingers trailing down his forearm and over each letter of your name. He lets you, not speaking words, only sighing in what sounds like relief. You force your gaze from the mark you could stare at forever to meet the glowing eyes of his mask. "You're- Jason Todd?"

He nods, every nerve of his body completely locked on you. It doesn't clear anything up. He can't be Jason Todd, at least, not the one you buried.

You make a face and step back, crossing your arms, "Yeah right."

He seems to blank, arm still held out, showing your name permanently engraved on his skin. "Yeah, right?" He echos, deep and robotic through the modulator of his mask.

You set your jaw and nod.

He tilts his head, lifting his arm higher to make you see the mark. To see your name. "Do you think I faked it?"

That makes you falter. Why would he? There's nothing to gain by pretending to be your soulmate. "Well, no. But you still could have the wrong person."

He exhales a laugh, breathes out your name with more fondess than you've ever heard. "Always so stubborn."

Your frown. Sure, maybe you could be stubborn but he doesn't know that.

He says your name again, reaching up to tug his hood back, reaching for his mask.

It makes you freeze, eyes going wide in shock when you make out his face. Jason. Your Jason. "How–" You start, but can't quite manage to finish, eyes darting over the face that's so familiar, only older, more tired, more scarred. But his eyes are still the same. Intent and focused and bright when everything around him is dark.

"It's a long story." He says softly, before starting to ramble, nervous to upset you, to lose any chance of knowing you again. Any unease you felt around Red Hood fades as you recognize the boy you grew up with in him. "Maybe I could tell you? Over coffee? I have safe house nearby. But, only if you're comfortable. Or we could meet during the day, if thats better?"

His voice sounds more familiar without mask, and you study him, almost accusing. "You didn't have to kidnap me to tell me you're alive. Or that you're my soulmate, you know."

He stumbles over your words, taking half a step closer to you. "I didn't! I mean, I wasn't trying to. I swear– I just couldn't take all of this off down there." He gestures to the mask, a little frantic to gain your approval.

It brings a small smile to your face, and he stops still at the sight of it, breath catching in his throat as you speak, "I'm glad you're here, Jason."

"I'm glad you're safe." He exhales out, eyes softening and tension draining from his muscles in relief.

You can't quite fight the urge to reach out for him, so you do, taking his hand and gently flipping it over so you can read your name again. You have questions, absolutely. Gripes. Proably a lecture that he should have come seen you sooner. But you settle on how right this feels in your bones, how your soul feels like its missing piece slotted into place. "Do you have creamer?"

"Creamer?" He asks, voice airy and memorized by the feel of your skin against his hand.

"For the coffee?" You prompt, smiling a little wider at his dazed expression, his eyes following your hand, like he can't believe you haven't run screaming for the hills.

"Yeah. Course. Anything you want." And when he focuses back in your face, you know in the very essence of what you are that he means it.

"Coffees a good start." You say, a little fond as you pull away your hand away, and he reluctantly lets your fingers slide from his.

"Coffee it is." And it is a good start. To know your other half again, to follow the warm, soothing feeling in your soul when you touch him, you'll try as many starts as it takes.

[butterymangowrites]

permanent fix

soulmate au + a/b/o

paring: alpha atsumu x fem beta reader

warnings: bullying, dub-con, atsumu is not nice, smut, slight breeding kink, biting, blood, choking, mirror sex, possessiveness, jealousy, alpha rut, atsumu talks shit, dramatic atsumu

word count: 2.2k

english is not my first language. please excuse any mistakes

Born as a beta, you never thought fate would toy with you by giving an alpha as your soulmate. Especially not one like Miya Atsumu, the one whom you went to school through college with and still having to see his face ever so frequently as if he had sworn to never let you live in peace. 

For someone who made faces when seeing the lunchboxes your mom packed for you and proclaimed a beta was weak when you first presented at fifteen, Miya Atsumu couldn’t seem to detach himself from you. 

So when you had a crush on one of your colleagues at twenty five, having his nose in your business as usual, Atsumu knew instantly. 

“Another beta.” Lying comfortably on your couch, Atsumu scoffed. “Predictable.” 

“Didn’t ask for your opinions.” 

“I’m giving it anyway,” he said in a singsong voice, but his face was without mirth. “You can fuck whoever you want, but I’m getting my fix. That’s non-negotiable.”

Oh, yeah. His fix. 

He patted his lap. “Come here.”

Then it all began again. Him cradling you in his lap, hands going all over, lips spilling hateful words. 

‘Weak fucking beta.’ He would say. ‘Even Osamu got an omega soulmate. Makes me jealous as fuck.’ 

But then he would kiss you like the world might end tomorrow, doing everything opposite of what he said. This time was no different. His hot tongue was everywhere he could reach, acquainted itself with yours before leaving a wet trail down your neck. 

You protested when he nipped a little too hard, scared he might leave marks. He did that once. The deep purple hickey you saw in the mirror after he left your apartment scared the shit out of you. A little more force and teeth could have broken the skin, and that thought caused chills to run all over your body. You didn’t want to bear his marks. 

Yet, Atsumu didn’t care. He never did. His hands were now on your buttocks, squeezing hard through your thin pajama bottoms. He moved you to one of his thighs for better concentration. The hands on your butt now rolled your hips back and forth, to the point your moan finally slipped out of your tightly zipped lips and you forgot about the harsh nibbling on your neck.

“Go whore yourself out,” Atsumu whispered. “Like I fucking care.”

Same here, asshole.

You thought, didn’t say out loud. 

Touching each other lifted the heavy weight in the heart caused by the act of not accepting the soulmate bond. Nothing more, nothing less. If not for this calling of intimacy both of you obliged to feel, he wouldn’t be here. You knew that. He said it way too many times. 

Still, your cheeks were licked, your lips were tasted, neck wet with saliva. You felt like a prey about to be eaten every time he was close. Yes, he may not care. But he sure was possessive enough of things that were given to him. 

Whenever you tried to wiggle out of his firm grasp, he tightened his fist. This time was the hardest you ever felt. 

—

In more than twenty years of knowing each other, never once did Atsumu come to you when he had gone into rut. So when he called you two in the morning one week after his last fix, ordered you to pack a bag and tell your boss you would be on leave for a week, you were baffled. It was never more than kisses and touches with him. Your clothes were always intact and on. The idea of that being changed had you flat out saying no. 

That didn’t stop Atsumu from coming to get you one hour later though. When he saw that you did nothing to get ready, his jaw was clenched. A split second later, he packed your bag himself, shoving clothes and toiletries in without any care. You were still in pajamas when the passenger door was slammed closed and he hit the gas. 

—

There were reasons why betas are not for alphas. Physically, they were incompatible. Betas weren’t designed for alpha’s stamina, not to mention one in rut. At one point, you did not care to count anymore how many times you had blacked out. Fading in and out really fucked with your memory. All you remembered was the non-stop pounding, Atsumu’s breath against your face, and his uncharacteristic cooing, praising you as his good girl. 

“Knew you were built for me.” The blond menace pulled on both of your wrists, never stopped his thrusting. “Let me knot you again, okay?” When you shook your head, face wet with tears, Atsumu shushed you softly. “Shhhhh. You can do it, I know you can.”

And you could. But it was not without pain. 

“Shouldn’t have waited this long,” Atsumu said close to your lips. “You almost got away.” 

He talked too much. But it would have been a big fat lie to deny that his words didn’t turn you on. That his vile confession didn’t affect you.

“Bold of you to even think I would let someone else touch you.” He sounded out of breath, closing to his end. “All the effort goes to waste. No no no no.” 

You felt it coming, just seconds before. Then your whole body was taken by the waves of thrills and your whole vision turned white. Atsumu was not your first, but as if he was the harbinger of agony, it hurt when he first penetrated, hurt when he knotted. And when you felt a sharp sting at your sensitive neck, you knew he defied the rule of nature once again by marking you. 

Fruitless. That was what it would be. Betas were not made for alphas. Mating bites did not forge any bond with the wrong person and would fade over time. But Atsumu had always been stubborn. One bite turned into two, three, then countless. All you felt was pain and the wetness of blood before darkness took your consciousness like the many rounds before. 

—

The mating bites faded within two weeks, all except the first mark, proving to you that even biology could not win over destiny. Same went with all other beta-alpha soulmate couples out there after you had done some research. They were rare, but they were there. You shouldn’t have let Atsumu bite you. Should have known better that things could get weird when it came to soulmates. Now, he wouldn’t get off your ass, had the audacity to move his things to your apartment and yours to his, calling you his girlfriend in front of everyone and expecting to see you at his games. 

You didn’t even like volleyball to begin with. And as you watched his magnificent tosses to any players he deemed to have high chances to score, you thought of a way to get out of his clutch. 

He needed an omega, the correct designation he always longed for. Because even with all the protective caresses and the promise to never let you go, Atsumu was still mean. Like going back to the ninth grade when you put makeup on for the first time and he gave you the nastiest comment that made you go wash everything off in the school toilet, his words still stung badly when he chose to weaponize them. 

‘Samu’s mate smells like she needs to be bred.’ He said that nonchalantly one day at Onigiri Miya, sitting side by side with you at the counter where his twin and his mate helped each other with cooking and serving the hungry athletes who were there to celebrate the day’s victory ‘Don’t know how he stands that. So sweet’ 

Hearing that made your conversation with Hinata pause. His steely gaze was the first thing you saw when turning to face ‘your boyfriend’. 

It didn’t end there. For days Atsumu was in a devilish mood, his jabs that you knew most of them were meant to just rile you up for fun had become a real emotional harm. He still fucked you, make no mistake about that. And it was as devilish as his temper. 

‘Too hard, Miya. Too hard.’ You still wouldn’t call him by his first name. 

Veiny hands wrapped snugly around your neck, Atsumu only went faster after hearing that. The bathroom mirror was foggy with hot steam from the shower, but you could see enough. One of your legs was perched on the counter, allowing the view of his cock pistoning in and out of you, your breasts bouncing fast. 

‘Would have been pregnant already if you were an omega.’ The sentence came out coated with his accent, thicker than normal, like he didn’t have full control of how he spoke. ‘But that’s alright. I can take my time with you. We’ll get there,’ he purred. ‘Still, what a shame, huh?’ 

Shame his ass for saying that and not letting you leave. ‘Go fuck an omega then.’

He smirked. Pissed you off. ‘Nah.’ 

As his toss to Sakusa scored a winning point, the loud cheer brought you back to the present. You saw Atsumu eyes staring up at you from the court below and knew what you had to do. 

—

Getting an omega who wanted to spend a heat with Miya Atsumu was easy enough. Sending her up to your apartment where he was already there waiting for you was as simple. You drove away then, not far, stopping at your favorite 24-hour cafe because you needed somewhere to sit and waited for the first feedback from the omega girl. Half an hour later, you got a call. 

The screen showed the female omega’s name. You picked up and said hello, expecting to hear that everything went well and that you could go find somewhere else to sleep for the next five nights.

But you only heard cries. Not of pleasure, just a full-blown crying with hiccups. 

“Hey, are you okay?” you asked, frowning. “Talk to me. What happened?” 

“He—he screamed—at me,�� she spluttered, almost incoherently, “and only asked where you were.” 

You cursed quietly, finally able to stop stirring the poor coffee you ordered without any interest in taking a sip. “Where is he now?” 

“I don’t know,” she cried. “He left—after the screaming.” Her voice wavered all the more when she kept on trying to speak. “You had to see him. He looked murderous. There was not even a hello. He straight up shouted at me, accusing me of breaking in. When I tried to explain—mentioned you, his face was all red.” A hiccup interrupted the long babbling. “He said he was married to you and showed me the ring.”

You were not sure what crack Atsumu was on, but there was definitely no ring or marriage. 

The call was still on when you heard the cafe’s door pushed open. And it was as if you saw the devil with your own naked eyes.

Atsumu walked in. 

His strides declared no peace or mercy when he saw you, ignoring the greetings from the two night shift baristas. 

Not wanting to cause a scene, you stood up, didn’t say anything when he put his hand on your shoulder and led the way out. 

The drive was silent. Your car was left at the parking lot near the cafe, you would have to come and get it as soon as you could before the parking fee turned as murderous as him. When asked where he was going, he answered solemnly, “My place. Yours stinks.” 

You just knew it was going to be a long night. 

—

Atsumu was the one who got the car out for you the next morning since he was the one who could still walk without wobbling. The sheets you slept on were rumpled. They reeked of cum. 

You reeked of cum. 

‘You think you’re so funny?’ he asked, knowing you couldn’t answer with his cock occupying your mouth but did it nonetheless ‘You wanted me to fuck her? What was going on in that pretty little head?’ 

He pulled you by the nape of your neck before pushing your head down, forcing your throat to take more of him till you felt the urge to gag. 

‘I thought we had an understanding, baby,’ he said, finally relenting his grip on your head. ‘No whoring yourself out.’ Then he stressed, ‘And no whoring me out. I’m yours.’

‘Do you understand?’ 

You only nodded.

‘Words.’ 

‘Yes, Miya.’ 

‘Atsumu,’ he said, looking like he wanted to throw up. ‘You’re not fucking my brother. Don’t make me imagine that. Call me Atsumu.’

‘Yes, Tsumu.’ 

Looked like you delivered. Atsumu grinned from ear to ear. ‘Good girl. My best girl.’ 

That was last night. 

A warm kiss to the cheek woke you again, must have dozed off after Atsumu left, but those scenes were not a dream. You heard him whisper, 

“I got your car. Parked it at your place.”

He looked like he got a ten-hour sleep while you could not move a limb without feeling sore. Not fair. And the way he looked so good in sheep’s clothing, his wolf’s skin all hidden. Not fair at all.

“Shower.” Your voice was hoarse, but you got the message through. That was good enough. 

[moonchildcovenxx]

Scissoring With Sevika

a/n: Guys i got possessed!! It’s the voices I swear! this is loosely based off of @justhereforsubsevika’s post so go check that out if u like mine :)!!

first time tribbing with sub/switch sevika??? you know what hell yeah!

Sevika prided herself in her poker face. It was an ability that came naturally, and the years of being Silco’s second in command had perfected this trait. It took a lot to break your stoic, brooding, girlfriend. That is until it didn’t.

Sevika had simply stopped moving above you. It was uncharacteristic of her to quiet so quickly. “Vika baby…” you trail off as you shift your hips to look at her. You always craved to feel her closer.

 Sevika’s warm muscular body against yours never failed to make you needy. She could hardly believe it herself when you suggested scissoring in place of her fucking you stupid with a strap. Sevika hated to admit when she was wrong, But it felt good. Better even. So good in fact that you both froze when a soft mewl fell from her parted lips.

“Shut up.” Sevika immediately rasped out as your intrigued yet teasing giggle filled your dimly lit bedroom.

“Didn’t know you could sound like that Sevika.” The atmosphere in the room has reached a drunken, hazy, stupor and your eyes darken as Sevika tucks her lower lip between her teeth, her thighs shuddering atop yours. “Don’t—Stop that.” Sevika attempts to chide, but she cuts herself off with a breathy gasp as your clits kiss oh so gently. It has her pretty grey eyes rolling back, it’s a small touch, but she can feel everything. “F-fuck.” Sevika pants, dropping onto her elbows to cage around you.

It’s taking all your energy to stay as quiet as possible to hear the absolutely devastating noises that are leaving your girl. 

Something in you blooms as you watch Sevika’s usually sharpened, reserved facade crumble. Her cheeks dust rosy as your eyes roam her figure not knowing what or where to settle on. Sevika’s already pussy drunk—completely stupefied. That much you can tell. The way her eyebrows furrow, arching upward is merely one sign. A permanent shiver racks her body at even your slightest change or quirk of your body. A beat passes where both of you are still, clearly waiting for someone to make a move. And then it clicks. What Sevika wants you to do. and all of a sudden you find your hand at her throat pulling her into a deep kiss. “Yeah like th-that ohgod.” 

Sevika leans closer finally letting your hands guide her hips where you want them. And where you want them is bucking down onto you. You need her clit against yours. You need to feel the way her cunt just drips as you coo praises up at her. “So pretty like this, huh?” Your words are slurred from the pleasure each time she grinds down onto your now sloppy pussy. Sevika shakes her head fervently trying to keep some semblance of dominance. Trying and failing to pretend she was unbothered by your vulgar words and even sultrier actions, but it wouldn’t work. As you leave biting marks on her collarbone, the resulting noise that you drag out of her is so throughly debauched you moan back her name in response.

“I’m going to stop if you don’t speak up.” You tsk up at her. Your words are nothing but lies. You need to cum just as much as Sevika does, but you’re in love with the indignant, pained expression that falls over her features, her restraint finally snapping when you threaten her. “No—ah-baby please it feels so—so good oh god oh my god!” Sevika all but wails into your chest, as you meanly hum in mock thought, you’re sure that the throbbing in your cunt gives you away. When was the last time you were this wet?

“Hmm. Should I let you cum Vika? you’ve been so….” you cut yourself off by squeezing her neck ever so slightly, and in result Sevika’s mouth drops open, this time staying there as you continue to toy with her. “so ‘bratty’…” You giggle, as Sevika shakes her head again. “I’m-fuck-‘m not a brat.” Sevika hitches out indignant. Her deep raspy lilt long gone, in its place a broken whimper. “Please I’m—Please I’ve been good I wanna-“ She cuts herself off as her eyes roll back for the nth time of the night. The pleasure coils painfully in your tummy, the tightly wound knot ever so close to snapping. 

“Then cum for me Sevika.” you manage breathily as your clit rubs against hers oh so addictively that your hips buck up to meet Sevika’s erratic thrusts. 

“Oh God-hahh—”

Sevika falls into you, head burying into your shoulder as she all but creams on your overly sensitive pussy. 

“Just like—ah- that I got you.” You purr comfortingly, managing to hook your leg around her thigh holding her still. The silence envelops the two of you comfortably as you breathe in an overwhelmed yet satisfied breath. The quiet continues and you think that Sevika has simply fallen asleep on top of you as you lean back into the ruffled up pillows. 

“I…wouldn’t mind doing that again.” Sevika’s husky low lilt is amusedly back—like it had never left, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you nod eagerly cuddling closer in her arms.

[d-z20]

Hers and Hers Alone

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: Agatha Harkness’s possessive nature burns brighter than ever when she claims you, not just with her words but with her magic. In the charged intimacy of her study, the line between dominance and devotion blurs, leaving no doubt that you belong entirely to her.

-OR-

She marks you with a magic tattoo cause you're oblivious to people flirting with you

Warnings: Possessive Agatha, reader is an idiot when it comes to flirting, magical marking, jealousy/obsession, claiming trope, slight angst, kind of dark romance is implied (at least their relationship is in my head), some dom/sub dynamics, reader gets called a good girl

Words: 1.9k

A/N: FuckMarvelEveryoneLives AU :P I errrr had carried this fic into the smut but then realised the request didn't ask for it so I guess what happened will just stay in my head :))

AO3 | Masterlist

Agatha Harkness always gets what she wants.

That’s the first thing you learnt when you fell into her orbit—her sharp eyes, her wicked smirk, the way her presence alone felt like it could strip you bare. It wasn’t just her power that made her dangerous; it was her confidence, the knowledge that she could claim you with nothing more than a look. And claim you, she did.

Tonight, that claim becomes permanent.

It starts earlier in the evening, though you’re far too oblivious to notice. Another witch—a newcomer to your coven—has been lingering a little too close, her compliments flowing like honey, her hand brushing yours just a bit too often. You think nothing of it, laughing at her jokes and responding with your usual warmth, but Agatha sees it all. She sits across the room, her wine glass in hand, her gaze locked on you with an intensity that sends lesser witches scattering. It’s subtle at first—the narrowing of her eyes, the slight tilt of her head—but as the other witch leans in and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, Agatha’s smile falters, replaced by something far sharper.

Jen sidles up beside her, an amused glint in her eye as she tracks Agatha’s gaze. “You’re going to set the room on fire if you keep glaring like that,” she says dryly.

“Perhaps,” Agatha mutters, her tone deceptively smooth. “But how could anyone blame me?" Her gaze flicks briefly to Jen before settling back on you.

Jen’s laughter is soft, a knowing sound that holds no pity. “She’s not doing anything. It’s you who sees it as a challenge.”

“A challenge easily won,” Agatha snaps, her irritation slipping through. Still, she doesn’t move. Not yet. She knows you too well to make a scene in public. No, this required precision.

—

The air buzzes with conversation, the flicker of candlelight casting shadows that dance across the stone walls and when you finally turn toward her, your face brightens at the sight of her. You weave through everybody, the scent of burning herbs mingling with the faint tang of red wine, excusing yourself with a polite smile and a brief touch of hands that only fuel Agatha’s determination. By the time you reach her, she has composed herself into a picture of calm.

“You’re being antisocial again,” you tease lightly, tilting your head to study her. “Should I be worried?”

“Hardly,” she replies smoothly, though her voice dips into a tone that sends a shiver down your spine. “Although perhaps you should.”

You blink, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Agatha steps closer, her fingers brushing your wrist lightly. The contact sparks against your skin, her magic coiling beneath the surface. Her eyes lock onto yours, and you feel the weight of her presence settle over you like a velvet cloak.

“You’ve been quite generous with your attention tonight,” she says softly, her voice carrying an edge that makes your heart skip. “Perhaps too generous.”

Your brows furrowed. “Are you jealous?”

“Jealous?” She laughs low and dangerous. “No, darling. Jealousy is for those who doubt their place. I know exactly where I stand. Do you?”

Her words linger in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning, and then Agatha’s fingers trail up your arm, her touch deliberate and slow, leaving behind a faint, smouldering heat. The air between you thickens, charged with her magic and something even more primal. Her breath brushes your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “You don’t understand yet,” she whispers, her tone laced with a dark promise. “But you will.”

“Come with me,” she commands, making your pulse race.

Agatha doesn’t speak as she pulls you down the hallway, her grip firm but not painful, though there’s no mistaking the fire in her movements. You trail after her, a little breathless from trying to keep up, still half-confused about what’s gotten into her. It’s not until she shoves open the door to her study and drags you inside that she finally stops, turning to face you. The door clicks shut behind you with a wave of her hand, the air in the room thickening, charged with something electric and unrelenting.

“Agatha—” you start, but her sharp look cuts you off.

“Do you enjoy parading yourself like that?” she asks, her voice deceptively soft as she steps closer. “Letting them think they have the right to touch what’s mine?” The words cut like a knife, her tone equal parts petal and thorn, daring you to challenge her claim.

Her words sting, but there’s a flicker of defiance in your chest. You didn’t think you’d done anything wrong, yet the weight of her gaze makes you second-guess yourself. “What? She was just being nice."

“Nice.” Agatha repeats, a dark chuckle escaping her lips as she closes the distance between you. “That wasn’t ‘nice,’ darling. She was flirting. And you…" Agatha pauses, her jaw tightening ever so slightly. For a fleeting moment, there’s a flicker of something in her eyes—not doubt, exactly, but something close. Vulnerability that is quickly buried under her usual sharpness. “You’re far too sweet to see it.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the words die in your throat as her thumb brushes your bottom lip, lingering just long enough to make your heart stutter. “You’re mine,” she says softly, almost like a warning, her eyes darkening as she leans in. “You can laugh and smile at the others all you want,” she continues, her voice like silk laced with steel. “But they’ll never know you the way I do. They’ll never touch you like this.”

Your breath hitches; your body already betraying you as heat pools in your stomach. Agatha’s hands move to your shoulders, steady and deliberate as she turns you around to face the desk. You feel the press of her body against your back, her breath warm against your neck as she leans in. “Don’t move,” she murmurs, the command dripping with authority.

You stand still, barely daring to breathe, though your mind races. The weight of her gaze, the heat of her power, wraps around you like an unrelenting grip. A thrill courses through your chest—half fear, half longing—as you realise what she’s about to do. This is more than a claim; it’s a declaration, a tether, and deep down, you’re not sure if you’d ever want to break free.

 Agatha brushes her fingers down the column of your throat and across your collarbone before stopping over your chest. Her touch is gentle, but the power swirling from her is anything but. 

“Right here,” she murmurs, her voice a dark velvet caress. Her fingers brush over your chest, leaving a tingling trail of magic in their wake. “This is where my claim belongs—above your heart, so no one ever forgets who it beats for.”

A surge of violet magic blooms from her palm, tendrils of shimmering light twisting and curling as they seep into your skin. It’s not just energy—it’s alive, sparking and crackling like a storm contained within your chest. Heat rushes through you, both foreign and familiar, as if her power is carving itself into your very being.

You gasp, your body arching instinctively as Agatha mumbles soft incantations under her breath. When she pulls her hand away, your heart is racing, and you feel it—a faint, lingering hum where her magic settled.

“Look,” she instructs, her voice soft yet commanding. 

There, etched into your skin in delicate, curling lines of violet, are Agatha’s initials. It’s an ancient and commanding mark, pulsing faintly with magic. You feel it thrum in time with your heartbeat, as though Agatha herself has left a piece of her soul imprinted onto you. 

You blink, lips parted in surprise, but before you can speak, Agatha’s fingers ghost over the mark. The second she touches it, a wave of pleasure rushes through you, leaving you trembling as a choked gasp escapes your throat.

“Sensitive, isn’t it?” She murmurs, her lips curling into a satisfied smirk. “Maybe now you’ll remember who owns you.”

You shiver under her touch, the magic from the mark sparking with every deliberate brush of her fingers. She leans in close, her voice a low purr against your ear. “And if you ever let anyone get that close again, I’ll make sure you cannot walk for days, darling. Do you understand?”

You swallow hard, nodding wordlessly, and Agatha hums approvingly. “Good girl.”

Agatha’s approval drips like honey into your veins, the warmth of her magic lingering just beneath your skin. Your body betrays you completely—breath shaky, pulse fluttering, and heat pooling low in your stomach. Every brush of her fingers near the freshly marked skin pulls a soft gasp from your lips, and you can feel her smile against your ear.

“Sensitive already,” she husks with dark amusement, the words sending a fresh shiver down your spine. Her fingertips ghost over the mark again, just enough to make your knees buckle, and you clutch at the edge of the desk for support. “Such a pretty reaction. I could play with you like this for hours, you know. Watch you squirm. Hear you beg.”

"Agatha,” you breathe, her name tumbling from your lips in a desperate mix of frustration and longing.

She tsks softly, her free hand trailing down your side, gripping your hip firmly enough to hold you in place. “Do you feel it yet?” she asks softly, tilting your chin up to force your gaze on her. “The way you need me now?” Her voice drops lower, the teasing edge softening into something deeper, more possessive. “That mark isn’t just to ward off wandering hands, love. It’s a tether. A reminder of exactly who you belong to.”

You can only nod, unable to find your voice as the thrum of magic beneath your skin grows more insistent. The mark feels alive—Agatha’s initials pulsing faintly, like they’re echoing your own heartbeat. The sensation deepens when she leans closer, her lips just grazing the sensitive skin below your jaw, and you let out a shaky whimper before you can stop yourself.

“That’s it,” Agatha whispers against your neck, her breath sending another ripple of arousal through you. Her lips curl into a smirk as she presses a kiss there, followed by a deliberate flick of her tongue. “You’re already so desperate. My mark is working beautifully.”

Her hand trails down the front of your body, teasing but never quite satisfying the ache that’s grown unbearable. “I could make you cum just by touching it,” she continues, her voice like velvet as she strokes a single finger lightly over the mark once more. The pleasure spikes instantly—so sharp and overwhelming that your head falls back with a gasp, your thighs pressing together in a feeble attempt for relief.

Agatha pulls back just enough to watch the way you tremble, utterly at her mercy. “Tell me, darling. Do you understand now? Do you know who you belong to?”

“Yes,” you manage, the word escaping in a breathless, desperate whisper.

Her smirk widens. “Say it.”

“You, Agatha,” you murmur, your voice shaking. “I belong to you.”

“Good girl,” she hums, her voice softer now, almost tender. Her fingers trace the edge of the mark, drawing a shuddering breath from your lips. “You wear it beautifully,” she murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss just above the sigil. Her magic lingers there, warm and possessive, as she cups your cheek with a rare gentleness. “Mine,” she whispers again, more for herself than you.

-----

I just need to take a moment to appreciate the way Kathryn looks at the camera in the gif used at the start... the woman is staring into my soul and ughhhh the piercingssssss 😩😩😩

-----

Taglist: @danveration @aceday @alwaysharmony

[aouiaa]

So, I was wonder if maybe u could write something about a very fluffy, touchy and messy make out/sex session with abby!!! Like, she just needs you closer and closer but she's so tender with it and sooo in love with reader. Pretty please and thanks <3

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 : sexual intercourse between the same sex, softdom!abby, sub!reader, praising, reverse cowgirl, scissoring, spanking.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : first off, i just wanna apologize for disappearing. i know, i know. tumblr hasn’t been the same since i left but i’m back now!

the sight before abby was gorgeous, captivating even. your sweet moans and the way you clenched around nothing as you repeat a singular motion fueled by a need for your anticipated release. It was hypnotic, beckoning her closer.

in a sudden burst of desire, abby's right hand came down with a harsh slap, making you jolt and let out a drawn-out moan. you look back, gaze met hers, and she was utterly bewitched, her eyes heavy with lust. she pressed you down further, helping you grind against her. blunt nails digging into your skin, gripping tightly, and for a moment, you wished they would leave a mark, anything to remind you of this moment.

you call for her, a plea for more, and she responded with a guttural groan.

"i know, baby—fuuck, look at you.” she half chuckled, amazed by the sight in front of her. her breathing growing irregular as her hand reached back to tug at her disheveled braid, the action a testament to her own arousal. "fuck," she let out, her gasps ragged. it wasn't enough, she couldn't let it be. despite being closer to you than anyone had ever been, it wasn't close enough.

suddenly, she halted all movement, beckoning you to straddle her waist, her leg lifted and resting firmly over your shoulder. a smile tugged at her lips, "oh—god, yeah.” she swallowed thickly, curses escaping her as she pushed herself into the pillow. her large hands held your waist, guiding you with a gentle touch, helping you find the perfect rhythm.

it wasn't long before abby felt the familiar, tingling sensation, the harbinger of her release. with her hand at the nape of your neck, chest to chest, skin to skin, she pulled you down into a searing kiss, her lips hungry and desperate. it was a tangible expression of what she had been holding back, unable to vocalize.

her movements didn't leave you in the dark for long either. another sharp slap landed on your ass, followed by a grip that felt like a vice. erratic and needy, she met your movements. filthy, guttural moans echoed through the room as she broke the kiss to press her forehead against yours, her eyes holding you captive.

"abby.” you called out, your voice thick.

"tell—tell me you love me.” she pleaded, gasping for air.

"i love you.” you confirmed, her name on your lips as her movements grew even more frenzied.

"again.” she demanded, her need apparent.

"i love you—ah, fuck!” you breathed, your breaths quickening.

"again!" she insisted.

but the urgency in her voice was met by your own orgasm, a powerful wave that crashed over you. you slumped against her, limp and spent, as she helped you through the euphoria.

amidst of recollecting yourself, you finally share your awaited request, "i love you, abby."

requests are open, don’t be shy :3

PERMANENT TAGLIST, @dyk3ang3l, @elliesprettygirl, @les4elliewilliams, @r3starttt, @slut4mascss, @marsworlddd, @bready101, @abbysleftbicepp, @airenaa, @caraphernellie, @astralnymphh, @whore87, @kaiilectric, @sapphicontherun, @mikellie, @nihilisticangelbby, @be3flow3r, @ppuussyyy, @clairoscharm, @lvlymicha, @brackishkittie, @loveyru, @drunkonnatasha, @leosw0rld, @visupremacysstuff

REQUESTED TAGS, @picklesarenice69, @lesbian-useless, @graviewaviee

[cosycafune]

LEMME BREED YOU, PRINCESS!

0.6k words. your boyfriend is a shit one, but that really doesn’t matter when you’re bouncing on Toji’s cock — ruining your sanity. sure, sneaking around is risky, but toji’s divine cock is enough for you to almost ruin your future.

acts: unprotected sex, creampies, infidelity, degradation, doubt, breeding kink, size difference, slight age gap and slight sadistic tendencies.

SEATED, guilt and enthralment adorn you. Nothing prepared you for this sacred moment, tinted with the art of intimacy, infidelity and lust. Tendrils of confusion smother you, but you can’t bring yourself to release Toji right now. 

Grinding against an older Toji, you momentarily forget about your shortcomings – shedding every thought of your estranged boyfriend.

Unrestrained, you continue to rut your hips against Toji’s erection – stomaching the closest feeling to love you’ve ever carried. Liberation almost tints you, but it’s tainted, distorted – settling you in a morally grey area.

Naturally, you felt like you had to succumb to your boyfriend’s shortcomings – enduring the colourful, negative emotions he painted on you. Engaging with Toji, taking every inch of his cock, being talked through it, coddled and eerily cared for, rewired you. Leaving, you know you should do that, but your boyfriend suffocated you – strangling you with his status and power imbalance.

Yet, Toji carries status, emotional stability, money and a huge dick. A huge dick you could never resist, sneaking away to meet with him – coming back home with hickeys, bite marks and symbols of satisfaction. To you, it was thrilling – a diligent way of getting back at your cheating boyfriend. Everything within you wanted to leave him, but he would suppress you – mentioning his cherishable reputation with your family.

All you wanted was for Toji to mould into your charming prince, sculpting an atmosphere that would permanently provide peace. However, you’re pitifully bound here – stealing away pleasurable moments that pale in the long run. Even as you grind against his cock, nude, filled with Toji’s cum, you can’t help but ask for more. As a princess, is this truly what your life has come to? Sleeping with your father’s favourite millionaire?

“You’re thinking, darlin’,” Breaking your internal silence, Toji gruffly speaks – relishing your soppy, cum-filled folds kissing his cock head.

“I mean, we only have half an hour,” Chuckling, you respond to Toji – frantically kissing his lips. Looking down at him, you smoothly deflect – unbounded. 

“Stop deflecting,” Lightening up, Toji murmurs through his grunt –  harshly sinking you onto his cock.

“It’s… just, why won’t you beat him up or do some dramatic gesture to convince my family?” Avoiding Toji’s intimidating gaze, you speak, “You know that he… treats me like shit.” Blabbering, you look away — only for Toji to grip your chin.

“Because it’s not him that has your pretty self sinking his cock,” Grinning, Toji breathily grunts — captured by your warm cunt squeezing him.

“Hmm, don’t tell your boyfriend,” Taunting you, Toji frantically bucks his hips into you — pushing you into moaning extremely loudly.

“Shit! I won’t! Ahh!” Pounded into, revoking your willpower to think, you shakily grip onto Toji — bellowing.

“He’s never fucked you this good, has he?” Observing you, Toji gently moans — his question almost hazy.

“Ngh! Never!” Barely clutching onto your self-esteem, you prettily feed into Toji’s inquiries — demolishing his fat, enormous cock.

“Shit! If I…put a baby in you, he’ll leave,” Threatening your future, Toji thrusts deeper within you — grinning at you cock-stricken.

“Hmm! Baby!” Mewling, you tremble vigorously — practically agreeing for Toji to expand you with as many babies he wants.

“A pretty… princess like you, pregnant?” Enthralled, Toji snaps his toned hips harder — barely able to voice his thoughts through pleasure.

“I’d do…anything for you to be swollen with my baby,” So close to cumming, Toji hums with satisfaction — burying himself so, so deeply within you.

“T-Toji,” Moaning his name, you accidentally cum before him — embarrassed at how quickly he could dismantle you.

“I’ll fill you up and give you a baby,” Determined to impregnate you, Toji snaps his hips intensely — his pulsating cock finally twitching before filling a foolish you up.

“Mhmm, I’ll have… your baby,” Whining, you desperately proclaim — almost collapsing as Toji kisses your lips.

“Hmm, but don’t tell your boyfriend,” Teasing you, Toji gifts you a gentle kiss — before smacking your ass.

Don’t tell your boyfriend.

--

do not copy, modify or claim any of my works as your own. all rights reserved; cosycafune. 2024. small banners credit: cafekitsune <3

[jacaerysgf]

The hour of the wolf

summary: You make an offer for an old friend. You offer up anything to make sure his life is spared. What the wolf wants shocks you more than anything.

Cregan Stark x Beesbury!Reader

w.c: 3k

c.w: SPOILERS FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD; the hour of the wolf, mutual pining, soft? cregan, SMUT !, oral (male and fem), minor fingering (fem), face sitting, dirty talk, lord kink, hairy cregan, p in v, minor bearded cregan, breeding kink, minorly proofread

a.n: literally just a reimagining of the black aly and cregan scene from the books, i hate that fact that they rlly might cut black aly from the show let me kms.

perm cregan taglist (open!)

The room is far too hot. The glares of the men in the room far too intense. Words unspoken louder than anything. You had been sitting in this room for hours now, the arguing the anger seemingly never ending. You understand him. A stark never does forget his oaths that much has become very clear to you.

The fur covered man turns his back to the group after some harsh words leave his lips. You decide enough is enough and turn to the other men in the room. “Leave us.” Oscar and benjicot give each other nervous looks before turning back to you. “y/n…” You place a hand on Oscar's shoulder and squeeze it, “I have this, trust me.” He hesitates for a few moments before he nods and with the help of benjicot clears out the council room leaving you alone with the wolf of the north.

His back is still turned to you, staring at the window with a glare in his eyes. “My lord-” “I have done all that you all have asked. I have agreed to not storm on the green castles, i have given my men, i have been merciful to those who should have been marked to death i will not relent on this.” He had finally begun to face you, his face angry. You can see the stress of the last days weighting down on his face, a noticeable stubble from not being able to shave, bags under his eyes, he looked exhausted and you felt awful

Corlys Velaryon. once a man who you would have considered a good friend turned turncloak. The new king had pardoned his crimes along with the rest of you except for cregan, so stuck in his justice it will not stop until he has his head. Thought he had pardoned corlys, when you had went to the king to see to cregan being stopped, not wishing to fight one of the only men he trusted he did nothing to fight the northern leaving you all to try to persuade him yourselves.

You understood his anger. Having vowed himself to the queen and the late prince and both now dead due to the greens. “i’m afraid i cannot relent on this as well my lord.” You knew corlys did what he had to. maybe you would have not done the same in his place but it did not matter to you. Cregan huffs, pushing off the table he was leaning on to walk past you. “then there is nothing for us to speak of.”

You do not try to grab him as he walks past as much as you wish to. you only knew the lord stark for a year now but he had become a good friend to you and you like to think you were one to him as well. it took him awhile to open up to you, the northern not interested in speaking to most and was flat out rude to most but you persevered and was rewarded by earning the favor of the stark, leading him to seek out your council.

You felt more for the stark. More that was beyond friendship. you were a minor lady from minor house, the war and the growing tensions and battles with the hightowers leaving you even worse for wares and he was probably the most powerful man in the realm right now as well as a recent widow. He would want nothing to do with you if it were not for you insistence and you’re sure after this is all said and done if he does not agree to be the kings hand permanently this will be the last time you ever hear from the man.

Yet you are desperate. you so badly don’t want him to do this. corlys’ life more valuable than many realize. “what can i offer you?”

You voice cracks as you speak, whipping around to see his retreating form paused at your words but he does not turn around. you take a deep breath as you take the steps towards him. every step you take he steps back. “grant me this one thing and i shall never ask another thing from you ever again. If you do i shall have sonnets and songs written of you, tales of your great strength and wisdom. Grant this one wish and i will do anything you desire.”

His back hits the wall and he pears down at you with a tilted head as you stand firmly in front of him. not closely enough to be touching but close enough you can smell him, woodsmoke musk of his skin. He’s quiet but the look in his eyes shows Hes thinking about your words. You begin to grow a bit nervous when a light smile creeps up on his face. “I shall grant you your wish.”

“and what in return?”

“you.”

You stumble back while cregan remains rooted where he is, watching you with delight. “you misspeak.” “i do not.” you shake your head furiously. he cannot truly mean that as much as your skin crawls and your heart pounds you cannot accept his words. “If you are looking for a wife i am more than happy to help you find one.” “i am not looking for a wife. i want you.”

You pace around the room, tugging at the collar of your black and yellow dress. The room suddenly having grown hot and you dress uncomfortable. “There are many lovely ladies,” “im sure there are,” “The war has left many without a husband as awful as it is to speak. i would be more than happy help set you up with a couple meetings with them.” “is one of them with you? i will attend that one.”

You turn to him and almost wish you could curse at him and his pleased face. “my lord please.” his face drops and he grabs your hand tugging you into him. His hand softly coming to your face, the obvious look of affection in his eyes makes your stomach churn. “a hand for a head. give me your hand and i will do as you say. i will do as you say for the rest of my life.”

You take a couple deep breaths in disbelief, he wanted you. “A hand for a head. i will give you as you ask.” He leans in closer to you, you almost feel as though he is going to kiss you and you close your eyes in anticipation but he pauses right as your lips are about to touch and you hear him chuckle lightly. “You want me as well.” It is not a question but despite that you nod and his lips are pressed against yours. You can feel him hum and smile against your lips. He is an animal, hungerly eating at your lips like he is a starved man, as if he had been waiting for this for far too long.

You try your best to meet him all the same but he completely consumes you and you can do nothing but submit to him. When you pull apart you both stare at one another with lust in your eyes. So when you lightly step back he stares at your curiously until you sink down onto your knees and his breathing stops. “What do you think you’re doing?” You trace your hands along his thighs as you peer up at him. “doing my best to please you my lord.” he groans in delight and licks his lips. “will you allow me to my lord.” “if you do not put me in your mouth right now i will push you down and fuck you on the floor like a whore.” You wish his words did not affect you like they did, you can feel how soaked you are, you might as well be dripping onto your feet.

He allows you to grab at his pants and watches as you pull them down exposing them fully. He is huge. How in the hells were you even going to put this thing in your mouth? You can see the hair that trails up towards his stomach, the veins that line up and down him pulse with need while he lightly drips out some precum. As if driven by pure lust you reach out and lick at the drops that spill out of him, sucking around his tip to see if you can get anymore. You must be doing something right because he groans at your actions, grabbing the back of your head as you continue to push him further into your mouth. “fuck you feel so fucking good.” You whine lightly at his praise as begin to rub yourself onto the heel of your foot. When you moan around him he pushes you greedily further into him. “you feeling good too? such a greedy girl.”

You have no real clue what you’re doing but cregan helps you every step of the way, and when you put him fully in your mouth, your nose is buried in his hair. His hand on the back of your head pulling you closer and further until you get a good rhythm yourself and he lets you do as you please. “so fucking good for me fuck.” You can tell he’s close to cracking, his grip on your head grows tighter and his panting gets heavier, his words of praise turn into slurs of mumbles of nothing. He tries to pull you off not wanting to overwhelm you, “its too much.” But you keep firm and hes flowing into your mouth, you almost choke but pull yourself off of him and swallow down his salty seed.

You almost look up at him to try and see what his reaction was but you instead yelp as you’re pulled up and thrown over his shoulder. “what are you doing?!” he pulls up his pants and readjusts himself before he walks out of the room with you still over his shoulder. people stare as you walk past but nobody dares to question the hand so they all continue about their business. you even see oscar on your way who shoots you a bewildered look but you just throw your hands up in confusion and embarrassment.

You realize he is taking you to his room. He shuts the door with his foot and tosses you onto the bed. He strips himself of his furs and clothes where he’s standing bare in front of you. He truly was a man and you gulped. Greedily admiring his hairy body as he strode towards you with the utmost confidence. “If you do not want this you will tell.” You nod, “With your words.” You shiver, “yes..” hes pleased but gives you a look. “yes,,,?” you purse your lips before answering him, “yes my lord.”

He kisses you and leans on top of you until you’re laying on your back. You feel his fingers trailing up your leg and push past your underwear to push two fingers inside of you. You grip onto his shoulder and gasp as he begins to work his fingers in and out of you. “you’re dripping down my fingers, look at you pretty girl.” you shudder against him as he continues to work at you. He suddenly pulls away and you whine but he kisses your complaints away. “sit on my face.” Your brows furrow together in confusion, “what?” He chuckles, his hair tickling your face and shoulders. “just do as i say.”

Despite your confusion you nod, trusting your future husband who rolls the two of you over and you’re suddenly on top of him. He pulls every string and pushes away every piece of fabric under you sit just as bare as he is. You almost fold your arms to cover yourself but his hands grab yours as he continues to admire you with heart eyes. “you are the most beautiful lady i have ever seen.” Your face burns as you turn your head away from him. “sweet talker.” “I mean every word.”

He lays all the way back and it suddenly becomes abundantly clear what it means and you are alarmed. “You will suffocate.” He laughs and shakes his head as he continues to try and pull you up to his face. “a real man would not, trust me.” “this cannot be right.” “it will be good i promise. trust me. i want to.” Despite your doubts and worries you allow yourself to hover over his face lightly, his beard scratches at your face. you hear him sigh as he kisses your thigh, “I said sit.” He suddenly pulls you down and you’re fully sitting down on his face and he begins to lap at you.

You were not the most innocent women, having touched yourself a fair share of times but this was a completely different experience. His tongue laps at you eagerly, drinking up every drop while his hands knead your sides. You grip onto his hair as you as, your eyes closed and you throw your head back in pleasure. You keel over when his hands move you to grind on top of his face, his nose rubbing against your bud and your hips eagerly begin to move to try to get more and more friction. with every call of his name he hums and groans into you sending shockwaves down your spine.

You can do nothing to stop yourself from releasing all over his face. you mumble apologies but he simply eagerly licks up every drop before suddenly flipping you over and hovering over you. his face gleams with the shine of your essence. “ive been wanting to do that for too fucking long.” you turn away as your face heats, he turns your head back towards him and pecks you on the lips. “I hope you know i am being truthful, my words do not stem from purely desire. i love you.” Your breathe escapes you and your hands come up to cup his face, “my lord…” “cregan.” a smile plays on your face, “cregan, i have loved you since the moment i met you.” His face softens at your words, “even when i was an ass?” “especially when you were an ass.” He shakes his head in humor before he presses his lips against yours once again.

His hardness his your thigh and you moan. “i dont wish to force you.” “I want you to cregan. take me.” He wraps your legs around his hips as he aligns himself up to you, “if it hurts too much tell me.” you nod and your heart continues to pound in anticipation. It does hurt, it hurts like hell as his hard cock pushes its way past your walls, you find yourself biting his shoulder and he groans at your actions. When he bottoms out he pauses, allowing you enough time to adjust to him. Its hard to, when he is so big and you can feel every vein and the way he throbs against you. He pecks kisses around your face and down your neck to distract you, pouring his love into every peck.

“You can move.” “you sure?” it does not hurt as much anymore, sure there is a light sting but surely that will only add to the pleasure. “yes please fuck me cregan.” He lets out a noise one would only consider to be a growl, “you want me to fuck you? ill fucking fuck you.” His pace is quick but not too rough, its enough to have your toes curling with every thrust. He’s mumbling into your ear, words of praise but you can barely make sense of it as you begin to see stars. Your hands scratch down his back and he howls as you bite his shoulder. “fuck wanna see you full, with my kid.” you moan with pleasure at his words and nod your head eagerly, “yes yes yes i want that so bad please please.”

“You want my babes? for me to fuck you full and round? for you to carry my pups?” you nod eagerly against his shoulder as you begin to chant his name like its the only word you know and he calls out your name just the same. You can feel your stomach burning, “cregan im gonna im,” he shushes you as he only begins to move faster, one of his hands coming down to play with your bud. “cum fuck do it. wanna feel it.” He makes no moves to stop even as you burst around him, if anything he seems more motivated as the sounds of your skin slapping together grow louder. His thrusts your sloppy and his hips move more eagerly until you feel yourself being filled with his hot seed, pumping you full.

You two attempt to catch your breaths, you wipe his sweaty stuck hair away from his face as he grins at you. The moment suddenly ruined when loud banging hits his door and the two of you freeze, staring at each other with wide eyes. “Lord stark!” you recognize the voice as one of the squires and you watch as cregans face falls with annoyance. “what?” his voice is clearly angry as he spits at the door, seemingly having no intention of pulling out of you. “one of the lord has requested an audience-” “i am not available for the rest of the day.” “but my lord-” “leave me be.”

You can sense a pause from outside the room before the footsteps suddenly begin to fade away leaving the two of you alone once more. You open your mouth to speak but he sudden pulls out and spins you over quickly shoving himself back inside of you. there will be time to talk later it seems and when a maid walks in later that evening cregan makes no attempt to explain why the room smells as it does and why the windows are foggy. but everyone knows, the lord stark is not one for quiet women.

[spiicii]

the usos / guard dogs (part one)

x fem!reader  word count → 2.1k summary → you’re their girl and they make sure the world knows it. when you’re accosted in the parking lot by a group of men with bad intentions, your guard dogs are more than happy to rip them apart.  notes → this fic is kind of dark. inspired by the vibe the usos had in their match against the mysterios at the money in the bank kickoff.  links → masterlist / guard dogs (part two) tags → suggestive content, possessive behavior, hickies, threats of danger and SA from bad men, violence, some mentions of blood and gore, the twins are devoted to you

You’d sat at the bar with the twins all night, allowing them to buy you drinks and whisper dirty words in your ear. It was a game the three of you often played: the two of them pretending to compete for your attention, their hands roaming your body in the dim lighting of the bar, all cocky smiles and flirty words. You’d make them work for it, more than happy to get them riled up just so both of them could fuck you stupid when the three of you got back to your shared apartment. 

Tonight hadn’t been any different. Jimmy’s leg had been pressed against yours, his smile wide, looking at you like the cat who’d caught the canary. Meanwhile, Jey’s hand had moved from the back of the barstool to your hip, his hand far lower than would be considered decent. The game was afoot, but you could sense that something was off, your skin prickling with a discomfort you couldn’t quite place. 

Your instincts were never wrong. You eventually realized that you were being stared down by the man at the end of the bar, his gaze unashamed as he raked across your skimpy outfit, your exposed neck, your low-cut top. When your eyes met his you saw him smirk - a disgusting, ugly thing beneath a greasy moustache. You quickly looked away, returning your attention back to the twins, hoping that the message was clear: Leave me alone. 

It was rare for any man to be so bold in their interest of you. The twins hardly ever left your side, their body language making it clear that you belonged to them. Even if their body language wasn’t enough, you knew it was obvious with the matching hickies you had on either side of your neck, the bruises practically permanent. The twins made sure to worry their teeth into the marks whenever they began to fade, guaranteeing that everyone knew you were claimed. Owned. 

You’d get plenty of lecherous stares, curious glances, maybe even a few comments from the ladies on how lucky you were, but nothing more. No man in his right mind would try to approach you, not with two towering Samoans on either arm. Usually all it took was one curl of the lip, fresh grill glinting, for them to get the message. 

You’d been relieved when the man staring at you finally left. You knew if the twins had noticed him there would have been a fight, especially if they saw how uncomfortable you were. They were incapable of leaving well enough alone, too possessive of you for their own good. 

It wasn’t that late, but you knew the boys had an early call at work in the morning. Besides, the evening had already taken the turn you wanted. You’d seen the look the twins had exchanged, already fed up with your bratty attitude and ready to take you home to put you in your place - exactly like you’d wanted. 

With Jimmy gone to the bathroom and Jey’s back turned while he paid the bill, it was a rare moment to yourself without one of them beside you. You didn’t think much about it when you stepped out of the building, keys in hand to warm up the car.

As you walked across the parking lot, you noticed the man immediately, his tall form leaned against the hood of the Mustang as you approached. Your eyes widened in recognition, your heart leaping into your throat. It was the same man from the bar, the one who had been ogling you all night. What was he doing here? How had he known which car was yours? You immediately froze, your car keys curled in between your fingers. 

“Finally! Been waiting for a while, pretty girl.” His voice was oily, his expression far too smug for your liking as he pushed himself off the hood of the car to face you. 

You watched him carefully, keeping the grip tight on your keys. “What do you want?” 

The man laughed and the sound was ugly. “What do I want? Boys, isn’t she cute? Acting like she don’t know a real man when she sees one.” 

You realized with horror that the man wasn’t alone, three other men stepping from out of the shadows to flank him on either side. They all looked at you with hungry expressions, proverbial wolves arrived to feast. Your blood went cold, instinctively taking a step back at the sight. The man raised an eyebrow, that hideous smirk still on his lips. 

“Where are your little boy toys? Not here to protect you I see.” 

Your jaw tightened, anger now taking a front seat to your fear. “They’re inside. So unless you want to get your ass beat, I suggest you leave.” 

All four men laughed, two of them already beginning to take a few steps in your direction. 

“Leave?” The man seemed amused at the idea. “But my friends just got here.” 

His eyes narrowed at you and your stomach dropped at the sight. “Figured you’d enjoy this. After all, you take both of your boyfriends at the same time, don’t you honey?” 

You felt like cold water had been dumped down your back, your heart beating wildly out of your chest. You took another step backwards and one of the man’s friends moved even closer, his eyes gleaming maliciously. If you ran now, you knew they would chase you. Would you be able to make it back inside before they caught you? 

“You’re on my car, uce.” 

You’d never been so relieved to hear Jimmy’s voice in your life. You whipped around and saw that the twins had finally emerged from the bar, their eyes narrowed as they assessed the situation. Jey was quickly by your side, placing a large hand against your cheek. 

“You alright, baby?” He asked, pulling you close to his chest and pressing a kiss into your hair. You didn’t have any words for him, but you were able to nod, tears filling your eyes in relief and gratitude at their timely arrival. 

“Pretty girl you got there.” The man said, his face still arrogant as he watched the twins approach. “Thought we’d take her for a spin. I’m sure you don’t mind.” 

Jey dropped his hand from your cheek, his jaw tightening with anger as he met the man’s amused expression. Jimmy, on the other hand, looked entirely too pleased with this turn of events, a wide smile already forming on his lips. 

“Oh, you tryin’ to get fucked up.” Jimmy laughed, though the sound was cold. “That’s why you out here, huh?” 

Once he was sure you were alright, Jey released you, stepping forward to place his body between you and the others. His eyes were dark, simmering with a rage you hadn’t seen in a long time, and your heart stuttered at the sight. There was no going back now. 

“Come on, boys. What’s wrong with sharing? I’m sure your girl would like it. She looks like she would.” 

Something feral glinted in Jimmy’s dark eyes. “You doin’ me a favor, uce.” Jimmy’s tone was far too calm. “Been waitin’ for a smug son of a bitch like you to cross my path.” 

Jey curled his lip menacingly, golden teeth flashing in the dim light. He stood beside his brother, his eyes unblinking as he surveyed the scene in front of him. His fingers were flexing at his sides, the same way they did before a match when he was itching to fight. Itching to harm. 

“That’s cute,” The man replied, sounding bored. “But you’re outnumbered. Sure you don’t want to just leave her with us and go? I promise we’ll take good care of her.” 

Jimmy laughed again, now bordering on something maniacal, his grin positively wolfish. Jey, on the other hand, didn’t look so pleased, his gaze promising blood and violence. 

You watched with wide eyes as the twins began to circle the group of men, their movements eerily similar to a predator stalking their prey. The men finally seemed to realize their predicament, a few of them skittering nervously around the car as they watched the twins approach. 

You couldn’t remember who moved first, but it didn’t matter. The lead man had stepped back and allowed his friends to attack first, two of them on Jimmy and one of them on Jey. It wasn’t much of a fight. 

Jey was quick to grab his opponent by the neck and slam them into the hood of the car, his movements fluid and clean. You watched as the man crumpled to the ground, now unmoving. Jey sneered at him, landing a particularly vicious kick to the ribs for good measure. 

While Jimmy was outnumbered, it was clear he wasn’t worried. He laughed as he fought, the sound rabid as his fist collided with one man’s face. Blood spurted from his nose at the impact and you watched as Jimmy continued to laugh, licking the blood off his knuckles with his tongue. Jey was quick to come to his brother’s aid, grabbing the other man and kneeing him in the ribs hard enough to break them and watching with satisfaction as he fell to the ground. 

“Oh, come on,” Jimmy complained, wiping the remainder of the blood on his shirt. “That all you got? I was hopin’ for a challenge.” 

The man who had started all of this no longer had a smirk on his face, his eyes wide as he stared at his fallen friends. It was clear this was not how he expected this evening to go. He quickly raised his hands, as if to surrender. “Wait, wait, a minute. It was just a joke, fellas. Just a joke. That’s all.” 

Jimmy’s eyes were wild. “Oh, a joke?” He turned to his brother. “You hear that, uce? It was just a joke. We must have missed that part, huh?” 

Jey didn’t answer, already too far gone to speak. His gaze at the man was positively bloodthirsty, his teeth bared like an animal. 

You watched as the twins moved forward together, their movements perfectly in sync as they grabbed the man at the same time, one fist colliding with his jaw while the other struck him in the ribs. Jimmy grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and threw him to the ground, sharp teeth flashing as he laughed. 

When both of them began their assault, Jimmy landing brutal kicks to the midsection and Jey landing punch after punch to the man’s face, you felt your stomach flip in fear. Would they kill this man? 

You felt frozen in place, searching for a magic word to make it all stop that you knew didn’t exist. You didn’t dare interfere, the scene before you an uncanny resemblance to wolves taking down their prey and feasting as a pack. You could only watch as the twins continued to bludgeon the man, blood staining the cold concrete of the parking lot. 

A part of you wanted to feel some kind of pity for the man. He had picked the wrong fight, unknowingly provoked two men who gave beatings for a living and was now about to pay the ultimate price. He couldn’t have known how deep their devotion to you ran. He couldn't have known how much they would enjoy this. He couldn't have known how utterly possessive they were of you. 

Despite all of this, you couldn’t find it inside yourself to care. You knew what they would have done to you had the twins not intervened. Although you felt nauseous as you heard the sickening crunch of bone beneath their knuckles, you couldn’t help but feel satisfied. He was getting what he deserved. 

You weren’t sure how much time passed, but the twins eventually stopped, both of them breathing hard as they surveyed the man beneath them. You couldn’t decide if you were relieved or disappointed to see that the man was still breathing, but you decided it didn’t matter. 

When the twins arrived back at your side, their bloody hands were on you instantly, their eyes wide as they searched your face for your reaction. For your approval. 

They’d returned to you as if you had called them back, their master that can make them heel with the snap of your fingers. They’d ripped those men apart for you and returned for their reward, knuckles bloody and eyes hopeful as they met yours. 

The Usos weren’t what you would call submissive, but seeing them before you now, Jimmy pressing sweet kisses to your forehead, Jey nuzzling at the side of your neck, you realized that they were protective the same way a guard dog is protective. Submissive the same way a guard dog is submissive. They would only heel for you, the only one who could hold their leash. And they would kill anyone who got too close to their master. 

[thesuperiorrobin]

𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝~

❥Pairing: Damian Al Ghul x Wife!Reader

❥Word count: 1.0k

❥Warning: mentions of blood but very brief, mentions of killing, mentions of kidnapping

❥S: Damian worst fear is losing his beloved wife (I wrote this in an hour. It’s 3:20 am rn☹️)

“This is so unlike you” Damian grumbles under his breath as he lies on a bed, a green silk robe hanging off his shoulder as you tend to a deep wound on his midsection with a needle and thick thread in hand. There’s sweat dripping down his forehead. A part of you feels bad but at the same time, he decided to have you tend to all his wounds after coming home from a mission his mother or grandfather sent him on.

Some days he’ll come home with a scratch or none and other days he’ll come back with gashes and marks that’ll stay permanent on his tan skin. As the needle in your hand digs into his skin once more—it hits a nerve that has him griping your wrist tightly and hissing loudly. Despite being an assassin, despite going through every single hard training process there was, a torture process, he still feels his pain.

“I’m sorry” you watch as Damian lets out a heavy sigh, letting go of your writs and gripping a metal handle beside the bed. “Just a few more so please bear with me” Minutes had felt like hours to Damian once you finished. And with your help, he sits up straight, groaning as we do so. One last step was to wrap the now stitched-up wound with bandages. His arms are up slightly as you reach over his back with the long white strips and bring them back to his front repeating the same process a few more times.

Once done, you help with his robe, gently as ever. You pat away any dust that drapes his shoulders. There’s still anger that clouds his eyes when he looks down at you “What happened?” Your hand grazes his cheek softly before placing your cold palm up against his warm cheek.

“It’s nothing, Zawjati. Come let’s go to bed” Your heart throbs at the sudden name. His hand reaches up to your hand, the sliver hand on his finger shining brightly as you gently peel it off his face, kissing it softly before he places it back down at your side. A visible frown finds its way on your lips as he walks past you with his head down.

“It’s clearly nothing. I can see it in your eyes” It’s a mumble but Damian can hear it loud in clear. Your eyes connect for a moment before you sigh—averting your eyes away from his “Let me clean up first, I’ll head back in a bit”

Damian leaves without saying a word to you. It takes a bit longer, mostly because you take your time cleaning and sanitizing. It takes thirty minutes before you’re heading back to your shared bedroom. You expect him to be asleep after being away for so long, but he’s wide awake when you enter the room, sitting upright on the bed rob long gone and with a book in his hand waiting for you. He places it down, on the nightstand beside him.

“You should be asleep” You shake your head, making your way to your side of the king-size bed.

“I can never sleep peacefully knowing you aren’t by my side” he lifts the silk blanket from your side—waiting for you to get in the covers.

You waste zero time as you jump in, head landing on the soft pillows. A sigh of relief leaves your lips once he throws the blanket over your shoulder. He watches as you snuggle closer, eyes closing. Damian’s arm reaches for the small lamp on his nightstand. The once-dim room turns dark within an instant as he turns it off. The wound on his midsection has Damian getting under the covers carefully. The shuffling stops and the room goes quiet. Damian thinks you are fast asleep, but when he feels your fingers tracing gentle shapes on his biceps he thinks otherwise.

Goosebumps cover his body. He can’t sleep either, not because of you tracing his skin, but because his mission early has him thinking. His target threatened you, threatening to take you from his side permanently. The assassin can handle petty little threats, but when they’re about his wife, all he sees is red. His wound was just the aftermath of his outburst. They’re all dead—every single one of them.

He has nothing to worry about—so why is he still worrying about it?

How many others, how many of his enemies feel the need to target you just so they can take him and the rest of the league down?

How much more does he need to paint his hands red just to keep you safe and sound, far away from harm's way? Damian would never say it out loud, out of fear and out of his reputation, you are the most saint and innocent thing to ever happen to him in his life. Someone so innocent and pure belongs to him, someone who’s the exact opposite—someone who can paint an entire city red with his bare hands if he needed to— have you sound asleep beside him—acting like he can’t break you with just his thumb.

When he looks at you—all his worries disappear just like that. Your breathing clams him down. Why worry, when he has you safe and sound right beside him? He takes one glance at your sleeping figure beside him, so peaceful and beautiful, curled up against his arm. His other arm reaches over to brush a few strands of your hair out of your face. He lets out a small breath as he watches you snuggle closer. He moves a bit, arm sneaking its way under your neck and over your shoulders, head on top of his arm using it as a pillow.

“I promise I would never let anything happen to you, beloved. Not now nor ever” A single kiss goodnight on your forehead and he closes his eyes, the darkness following soon after.

[hannahbarberra162]

Emperor's Prize, Part 5

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

All the other chapters

TW: dubcon. Also remember Shanks isn’t a reliable narrator

Shanks POV

Shanks was a little sad your heat was finally abating after five days. Your demands for his touch and comfort were coming in increasingly longer intervals and you expressed a desire for food and drink. On one hand, he was glad it was ending. You looked worse for the wear, run down, and exhausted. Hongo had been right that the heat would be challenging for you physically. Heat had caused your appetite for food to be completely gone and in conjunction with the intense physical activity you’d lost weight off your already malnourished frame. You had dark circles under your eyes and had scratched at your healing neck wound until Shanks had Commanded you to stop touching it. You’d be able to recover after the heat was fully over but it was dragging out over the course of long hours.

On the other hand, he had enjoyed your heat - maybe a little too much. Through sheer force of will Shanks hadn’t descended into rut and was able to keep his immense power contained. He’d fucked you in every conceivable position that kept you under him and even had allowed you on top once. But the real reason he’d enjoyed it so much was because he’d Commanded you to love him. A Command he repeated quite a few times, most of the time if he actually stopped and thought about it. Shanks was addicted to the way you’d look up at him through your lashes, pulling him in for tender kisses with your tongue meeting his own. How you’d moan his name, not his designation when he made you come on his cock or tongue. How you’d smile at him when he came in you, urging him to cuddle with you afterward, to hold you closer for just a few minutes longer. You’d laugh when he told you sweet nothings into your ear, happily giggling as his stubble tickled your cheek. When he Commanded you to love him, your body language changed - you were carefree, sweeter, and more romantic. 

It was like a glimpse into a world he’d heard about but never experienced before. Shanks had fucked thousands of times before he met you, it wasn’t anything new for him. He’d even made love a few times when he found a stable someone to enjoy it with. But every new beginning came with a prescribed end. No matter how sweet the love or how rough the tumble, Shanks would be leaving in the morning, the Red Force would be sailing away, and his newest lover would remain where they were. He didn’t have the time to let himself get attached or to let anyone really enter his life beyond his crew since he was always leaving, the future uncertain. There was no question about the inevitable outcome, fucking only granted him a few hours of respite from the loneliness that threatened to consume him whole. 

Shanks had long felt like there was something in his heart that was missing or somehow walled off from everyone else. Like there was a piece of glass wedged in, separating his true emotions from those he held dear. He hadn’t always felt that way - as a child, his life was filled with love. He had Roger, Rayleigh, Buggy, tand he whole crew always with him to provide support and guidance. But Roger died, Rayleigh abandoned him, Buggy left, and the whole crew blew away like dust after Loguetown. Shanks had no one and nothing, only the memories of the world’s most hated pirate and the loss of his family. He’d eventually found Beckman while at the bottom of a bottle and had built himself a crew and a name for himself. But the feeling of aloneness, of never wholly belonging to anyone or anything had become a permanent scar on his heart. He’d tried to find a connection through Luffy but he ultimately had to abandon the kid all the same. 

But you - you were different. You weren’t able to leave him, not now or ever. He had kept his word, he hadn’t marked you this heat. It had been incredibly challenging, every fiber in him wanting to bite down on your soft flesh to warn off any Alpha who would dare look your way. Shanks had persevered, you could walk away at any point and he would have no physical claim over you.  Except you had nowhere to go. You couldn’t reintegrate back into society with so many people knowing your designation and your Beta cover thoroughly blown. You couldn’t go to the Marines, they’d turn you into the Celestial Dragons who would make a slave of you. You couldn’t join another pirate crew, no one was powerful enough to challenge Shanks for you and win. No, you were his and his alone. He could keep you and you’d always be with him, no matter what. 

He looked down at you as you slept tucked into his side facing him, your hair a mess after so many days without bathing. You looked like a fallen angel, innocent but ruined under his hand, his marks littering your skin like a series of tattoos. He’d been purring for you for the last few hours, keeping you relaxed and sleeping until one of the final rounds of heat. Hongo said that once the heat ended you would want to clean up but Shanks hoped you kept at least a little of the copious amounts of cum on your skin. There wasn’t an area on you that he hadn’t bitten or marked or rubbed his cum into or kissed; he’d consumed you whole. He trailed his fingers down your side, making you jerk in your sleep. Really, he should let you rest. But his cock had other ideas and well, Shanks was always one to listen. He thought by the end of five days of heat he’d be sated but every movement you made had his cock throbbing like it was the first time.

“Love, do you need me? You were moaning in your sleep,” Shanks said quietly in your ear while pushing your hair off your face. Your eyelids twitched but you didn’t open them. Shanks rolled you gently onto your back as you mewled a small protest.

“Shh, it’s alright. I’ll care of you,” Shanks rumbled through his purr. It wasn’t exactly fair to keep purring while he attended to you but he knew you’d want what he was going to give you. Shanks parted your legs, your tired thighs falling to either side. He kissed a bite mark he’d left on your inner thigh, pleased it was still there after four days. Seeing the healing bite from Kid in the crease of your leg made him scowl at the other Alpha’s mark - he’d have to work on that one later. Settling himself on his stomach between your thighs, he set one calf over his shoulder followed by the other. Your glistening core was bared to him and still weeping with the cum he gushed into you mere hours before. Shanks gave you one long lick up your slit, making your thighs tighten around his ears. Your muscles were shaking from exhaustion but one more round wasn’t going to hurt you. 

“Alpha?” you said groggily, rolling your head on the pillow with your eyes still closed. You brought your hands down to run your fingers through his hair, as if in question that it was truly Shanks.

“Shh, just let it happen, I’ll help,” he assured you while remaining in his position. You whined but didn’t protest further as Shanks sucked gently on your clit. He knew it had gotten a lot of his attention but the swollen bud was calling to him. Shanks was gentle this time, lapping at you with care and ease as he wound your desire tighter. The taste of his cum mixed with your slick was like ambrosia for his taste buds - he needed to have more. Fucking his tongue into you, he tried to gather as much of the fluid as he could. You’d still produce slick after your heat fully ended but it was a touch sweeter during your heat. Your hole started to throb again, pulsing around his eager tongue.

“ Aah aah…Alpha - I -” you said, your voice straining under the onslaught of pleasure he was giving you.

“ Call me Shanks ,” he Commanded you, pulling his tongue out of your hole to speak before continuing to tongue your swollen clit.

“ Sh-Shanks - I -I’m g-gonna -” you stammered, your thighs clamped tight around his head. Ah, you really were coming out of heat. Previously you didn’t have control over yourself, coming when he made you either on his cock, fingers, or tongue. A few times he’d made you ask him or beg for it but he found it wasn’t as fulfilling for him. Sure, he liked making you whine and squirm but Shanks found he liked it even more when you came naturally, when the amount of pleasure he gave you was so overwhelming and intense that you had no choice but to come. 

Shanks pulled back to halt your progress toward your climax. Resting his chin on your pelvis, he smiled at you - and you growled back. He kissed your outer thigh but let you feel his canine teeth press against your soft flesh in warning to remember your place around him.

“Al- Shanks, please?” you asked, now deferent to him. He smiled at your submission, it was always a fine treat to enjoy. You tried to use his designation but were unable to under his Command. Shanks idly wondered how long the Command would last - would it extend beyond your heat? He hoped it did. 

“Of course, all you need to do is ask,” Shanks replied before giving the silky skin of your lower stomach a kiss. He wondered if you had gotten pregnant from this cycle, though he doubted it. Hongo said the first few heats weren’t generally productive and you weren’t in optimal health to begin with. The idea of your stomach swelling with his child had him kissing your stomach again. He hunkered back down between your legs, applying pressure to your clit in the way he knew you liked after so many times together. You moaned in pleasure, Shanks sliding two of his fingers into your hole to find that spot that made you gush. 

“N-not - ah I can’t - it’s too much hah hah -” you protested, now using your hands to try and push him away. He clicked his tongue at you - you were not to tell him what to do, he was the Alpha and you the Omega. Ignoring your cries, he curled his fingers and continued to pump them in your aching pussy, rubbing against the slightly rougher spot on your walls. He wished he had his other hand to push down on your stomach to intensify the sensation but you were shaking even without it. Sucking a little harder on your clit, he felt the moment of your release as your cunt tried pulling his fingers in even further. Slick gushed from you and he slurped up as much as he could while continuing to move his tongue against your clit. He was grinding against the bed while watching you fall under the spell of his bliss, he’d satisfy himself in a little bit. He showed you no mercy as you yelled out his name like a war cry. Finally, your pleasure wound down, your chest heaving and your eyes tightly shut.

“There it is, that’s my good Omega, such a good girl for me,” Shanks cooed at you as he removed his fingers from your body and pushed them into your mouth. You sucked them obediently, as he’d trained you to do during heat, only stopping when he took them out. Crawling back up to you, Shanks pulled you towards him again, letting you curl up into his body heat. Pulling the blankets back over the both of you, Shanks resumed purring. After a few minutes, he felt your body go limp as your breathing evened out. Yes, he’d be sad to see your heat go. 

There was always next time to look forward to.

Your POV

You felt like you were waking from a long, vivid dream as you regained your sense of self after your heat. It felt like memories were almost in your grasp, disappearing like vapor when you tried to hold onto them too hard. You could recollect only bits and pieces - you remembered kissing Shanks deeply, your arms wound around his neck as he fucked you slowly. You remembered crying out for him to help you, your body burning with need only to be reassured by his touch immediately branding your skin. You remembered him pulling orgasm after orgasm from you easily and how he had you crumbling under his slightest touch. You remembered his calloused hand running gently down your back to rest on your hip as he fucked you from behind. You thought you remembered telling him that you loved him, though that memory was hazier than the rest. 

What you did know was that Shanks had kept his word and hadn’t marked you during the heat. You truly hadn’t expected him to keep his promise, fully expecting that you would come to with a Claiming Bite on the non-infected side of your neck. Your neck still hurt from Kid’s bite with the incision now an angry red and covered in scratch marks. Hongo would want to see it, you thought, but you wanted to shower off the gunk covering your skin. Looking yourself over, you grimaced as you saw the marks from Shanks’s attention during your heat. He had gone to get you food and water after saying you needed to keep resting in the bed. And truthfully, you agreed with him.

You were tired, a bone aching kind of tired you hadn’t felt since you were on the run from Marine patrols, sleeping only when you’d found somewhere safe to hide. You couldn’t leave the bed if you wanted to, opting instead to let Shanks take care of you. Shanks? You thought to yourself. When had he become Shanks and not the Emperor to you? Probably after a few dozen rounds of sex, you decided. He didn’t seem to mind being called by his first name, that’s what the crew did. He still called you “Love” or “Omega,” but you weren’t going to correct him. 

Looking out the window in the cabin, you saw it was morning as soft light fell across your face. Shanks told you that you’d been in heat for five days, quite a considerable length for a first-timer. Curling back up in your now destroyed but perfectly smelling nest, you thought about asking him to visit the island after your next nap.

About a day later, you were finally able to get out of Shanks’s bed. Throwing your legs over the side of the bed, you stretched your arms upwards and felt a lingering ache in your back and limbs. You were sticky with residual fluids, sweat, and slick and wanted to shower. Shanks watched you stand up, following you with his eyes as you headed toward the bathroom. You heard the bed creak and felt his body heat behind you as you reached to turn on the shower in his en suite. He leaned down and kissed your shoulder with the action making you jump with the unexpected affection. You weren’t sure how to act around Shanks now that your heat was over - not that you ever did to begin with. Obviously, you’d been intimate with him many times but that wasn’t you. You hesitated now, your returned senses leaving you unable to act as freely as you did under the influence of heat.

“Relax, it’s ok. I’m gonna come in with you,” Shanks said into your skin, peppering your shoulder with small kisses. You nodded as you remained facing the shower, you had been looking forward to alone time but weren’t all that surprised to find him joining. Shanks considered you for a moment then gathered towels and placed them on the counter for when you’d need them.

“Nothing’s changed. You’re still safe, you’re still here with me,” Shanks said, leaning against the sink. You looked at him, knowing he’d want to hear and see your understanding.

“Thank you, Shanks,” you said, looking into his eyes. “Thank you for keeping me safe d-during heat and um, helping me, and ah, not g-giving me the bite,” you said, dropping your eyes in the middle of your sentence. He wasn’t your mate, you couldn’t maintain eye contact with someone so much stronger than you on the designation scale. Shanks gave you a small smile instead of the broad flashy one he usually did. 

“You’re welcome, Love. Now, let’s get in before the hot water runs out,” he said while ushering you into the shower. He followed immediately behind you, allowing you the majority of the hot water while he stood behind you, pressing against your backside in the small space. He grabbed a clean washcloth and lathered it up.

“Arms up,” he said, holding the wet cloth. You blinked - he was going to wash you again? You turned to face him but your eyes only made it up to his muscled chest.

“I c-can do it, I’m not that tired,” you sputtered in a failed attempt to exert some autonomy. Shanks had seen and touched every inch of you but that was during your heat. Now you were lucid and a little less afraid - he didn’t need to take care of you as much as he had before.

You thought about protesting but instead raised your arms. It wasn’t that big of a deal and you wanted to save your battles for when they mattered.  He began rubbing you down quickly with the mild soap. You didn’t think he did as thorough of a job as when you were in the bath but you could always clean yourself again later. As you ran your fingertips over your hair, you thought about his promise to let you cut your hair short. Detangling the rat’s nest would be a much faster process if you cut off about 8 inches. 

“Um, Sh-shanks? Were you - um, can I still get the um, haircut? That you mentioned?” you asked with a trembling voice while watching him run the washcloth over your stomach. He hummed but didn’t answer directly, continuing to soap you down. He was efficient, not lingering on your breasts or cunt like you expected. 

“We can check for a hairdresser but I don’t think there’s one on this island. And trust me, you don’t want Beckman cutting your hair. You’ll end up with something like Hongo’s. You can get one at the next island,” he said with a hint of mirth. 

“Alright, that - that makes sense,” you said and looked away while doubt crept in at his flippant answer. In your mind, you couldn���t think of any island that didn’t have at least one barber. You watched the suds fall down the drain as he finished washing your torso. He crouched down to wash your legs in the single person shower, which was made even more challenging by his broad shoulders. You were crowded into the back corner, the water still pounding your skin as Shanks ran his fingers up your calf. You could see his cock bobbing even as he crouched down,  already erect and leaking at the tip. Of course, you’d seen it before but not in such vivid detail that you could remember. 

“Put your foot up on my thigh, I want to check your injury,” he said calmly while still rubbing down your lower limbs. Leaning your back against the shower stall, you lifted your foot as he asked. Shanks was a tall man, so you had to hike your leg rather high to accomplish what he’d asked you. It was a little lewd exposing yourself to him so plainly, but you were glad he was taking a look at your cut. You had worried it would get too much friction during your heat and get infected like the one on your neck. Shanks finished scrubbing you and put the washcloth over his shoulder, using his hand to move your thigh to where he could see your wound. He prodded at it lightly, looking it over closely. Leaning forward he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh and stood back up. You jumped from the contact but he was already standing up by the time you processed what happened.

“Your turn,” he said with a smile before handing you the washcloth off his shoulder. 

Shanks POV

Shanks watched patiently as you took the washcloth from him with shaky fingers and wide eyes. It was like he was handing you a loaded gun with how nervous you were. Your smaller fingers took the offered item as you turned to cover it in more soap. Shanks almost felt bad for making you feel so skittish but you needed to work through your fear of Alphas. Now that your heat was over, Shanks wanted to have to work to get you back to how you were, to feel you on his skin again. No matter how much coaxing it took, Shanks always got what he wanted.

You tentatively began washing his chest and gained some confidence when he began to purr softly for you. You were absorbed in the task and taking it seriously, using your lesser strength to scrub his skin. Shanks hadn’t tried to wash you very thoroughly with a part of him hopeful some of the scent and fluids would remain on your skin. If not, he could always replace them. Shanks was enjoying watching you take care of him, even if he had foisted it upon you. Now finished with his stomach and chest you passed the washcloth over his stump, washing it with care. He didn’t think you noticed but your tongue was peeking out of your mouth in an enticing way as you concentrated. You washed his back and legs, his full arm and hand, which he used to cup your face when you’d finished.

“Doing so well, thank you little Omega,” he said, kissing you on the forehead. You flushed adorably at the bit of praise and he couldn’t resist giving you a small smile. After all that he’d done with you, you still were embarrassed by praise and simple affection. He wondered if he was the first person to offer you any in your sad life before him. You certainly hadn’t had any with Kid, but maybe you’d been as lonely as he was when you were living incognito. You wouldn’t have been able to have intimate relationships or let anyone in too close for fear of your secret being discovered. Plus you were weak, unable to defend yourself, so it made sense you would have hidden yourself away from others. It had all worked out in a cosmic way, he was as perfect for you as you were for him. You were wringing out the washcloth from soap while Shanks mulled over this new thought. Oh no, you weren’t getting away that easy, he thought to himself .

“Wash all of me, Omega,” he demanded without a Command behind it. You were obedient enough that you’d do what he said without force even outside of your heat. Your face flamed again and you steadfastly avoided his eyes. He’d have to break you of that habit, he thought, he enjoyed seeing your expressive face when he talked to you. It might come in time, he supposed. After all, you hadn’t spent much time with him outside of the heat; you barely knew what he was like. He could tell you he wouldn’t hurt you and that he wanted the best for you, but you’d have to see it for yourself by his actions. So he allowed you to look at his feet while shuffling your own.

Shanks took hold of your hand that was closed into a tight fist and gently pried your fingers open. He grabbed the bar of soap from its holder and put it in your hand.

“Easy Love, nothing you haven’t done before,” he said softly, kissing the top of your head. You finally started moving, lathering up the rag and replacing the soap in its spot. There wasn’t much room in the small space but you brought yourself closer to him before raising your hand to his hard cock. You wrapped your slimmer fingers around his shaft with the rag in between, trying to quickly soap him off. Shanks covered your hand with his own larger one, keeping your hand wrapped around where he wanted it most. He pumped your hand up and down over his cock, letting the rag drop to the floor as the movements continued. It was heavenly to be stroked in your soft hand so unlike his own. You made timid movements like you weren’t sure exactly what to do. 

“A little harder, aah , there aah - good girl,” Shanks bit out as you increased the pressure on his cock. 

“Don’t stop,” he ordered as he removed his hand from atop yours. He cupped your chin in his hand and leaned down to kiss you as you continued stroking his cock. You allowed him to dominate the kiss, to do what he wanted to you without protest. It was pleasant but not the same as when you were in heat. During heat you reciprocated in delight, making it less of a kiss and more of a dance between lovers. Now you were accepting but not participating and Shanks didn’t like it.

“ Kiss me back,” Shanks Commanded you, wanting to relive what he’d had previously. You gave him a worried look but were unable to refuse as your body took over. He knew you’d eventually see that he loved you and that your fates had been written in the stars, he just had to lead you a little bit further. You hooked your free hand around his waist, bringing him even closer so there was no room between you. Your fist kept pumping as you began kissing him with passion, tongue thrusting against his own. Shanks moaned as you gently bit his lower lip before tilting your head to allow him to deepen the kiss. 

“I’m close, Love,” Shanks said, pulling away for a moment to lean his forehead on your shoulder. 

“You want to be my good Omega, nh ? Then don’t make a mess,” Shanks bit out as he rode the edge of pleasure. He picked up his head and put his hand on your shoulder, pushing down gently. Understanding his silent cue, you got to your knees and put his cock head in your mouth while continuing to pump his aching cock.

“That’s hah that’s my girl - hah - a little more - ahh -” he mumbled as you sucked his tender tip then pushed forward so his shaft hit the back of your throat. He’d throat fucked you during heat but he refrained from putting his hand on your head out of consideration. Training that fear out of you meant being gentle when you weren’t in heat. Shanks could barely hold back as your tight, hot throat grasped him almost as well as your cunt.

“G’na come in - nngnh fuck fuck fuck swallow it all, that’s it, to the last drop,” Shanks stammered through his orgasm and you did your best listen, your throat bobbing as you swallowed as much as you could. He watched as the overflow from his massive load started dripping out the sides of your mouth. His finger swept across the edges of your lips when he cleaned up your face as you swallowed his cum.

“Open,” he said, his eyes half lidded and hazy with spent desire. He pushed his finger into your warm mouth, allowing you to finish cleaning him off. Removing his fingers from your mouth, he pulled you to standing and turned off the shower. 

“Let’s dry off and see if breakfast’s ready, yeah?” Shanks said while handing you a towel. Unfortunately, drying you off wasn’t something he could do efficiently before you got cold. You nodded as Shanks leaned down to kiss you on the mouth once more. You hesitated but ultimately kissed him back with a touch of affection. Yes, he missed the heat version of you who loved him back more easily. 

Maybe he’d ask Hongo if there was a way to speed up the intervals in between your heats. 

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[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Meat.

Pairing: Yandere!Ayato x Reader (Genshin).

Word count: 4.5k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Branding/Burning, Prolonged Imprisonment, Forced Marriage, Possessive Behavior, Descriptions of Gore, Implied Stalking, Mentions of Pregnancy, and Suicidal Ideation. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You always thought you would wear red on your wedding day.

It was a family tradition – passed down with dutiful care for as long as anyone could imagine. Your grandmother had given her dress to your mother who had gifted it to you, her only child, on your eighteenth birthday, years before you would so much as think about getting something as permanent as marriage. Still, you safeguarded it with a religious devotion, never going more than a week without laying it out to check for signs of moths or mold. When you found yourself on a boat set on a course for Inazuma and could bring nothing but what could fit in the space underneath your bunk, her dress was the only item you truly could not bear to leave behind.

It was one of the few things Ayato let you keep, when he first brought you to his estate. He hadn’t wanted to, but he’d known that you’d throw yourself off the nearest cliff if anything ever happened to that dress. You still would, if he so much as touched it without your permission.

The kimono you were being fitted for now was not red. The fine silk was pure white, the detailed embroidery along the hems and sleeves dark blue and bright, shining gold. The symbol of his archon glowed violet on the swell of the train – meant to appease the other factions of the tri-commission who protested when Ayato announced his intent to not only marry a commoner, but a foreigner. You hated that embellishment most of all, more than the sickly way his colors crawled over your body, more than the irritating smoothness of his favored silks where they hugged against your form and groped at your skin. It marked you as a tool, something to be used to one end or another. It marked you as a sacrifice – and an unwanted one, at that.

“Just as exquisite as I knew you’d be,” Ayato announced, his voice strong and unabashed. You’d begged him not to, but he’d insisted on sitting in on your appointment, making sure you couldn’t correct seamstress or overrule any of the choices he’d made on your behalf. The tailor hummed as she fastened a temporary sash around your midriff, tight enough to press uncomfortably against your ribs. If you needed to cry on your wedding day (which, in all likelihood, you would), it would have to be loosened. “How do you like it?”

You hated it.  You despised it. You wanted to claw it apart with your own pristine nails, separate each thread and seam with your very own teeth. You would’ve set yourself on fire just to see it turned to ash that much sooner.

“It’s perfect.” Your own voice sounded distant, distorted. There was no façade of sincerity. He knew as well as you did that there was nothing he could force onto you that you wouldn’t loathe, and you knew that any word uttered as to your hatred for him outside of the privacy of your shared bedroom would result in a collection of fresh rope burns to decorate your wrists, the better half of a night spent bent over his knee. “So long as it pleases you, my lord.”

You dropped your eyes to the floor, attempting to spare yourself what suffering you could, but your resistance didn’t matter; you could hear the sharpness of his smile, picture the way his head tilted to the side as he basked in his own self-satisfaction as he went on, addressing the tailor. “If there’s a veil, you can get rid of it.”

You didn’t think you would ever get used to the way his voice seemed to grate when he was happy with himself.

 “I think my heart might give out if I’m not able to see my beautiful fiancé’s lovely smile.”

~

After meeting Ayato, you began to dream in red.

It was more of a pink, at first – during the first few weeks of his courtship, when the extent of his intrusive affection was a few dendrobiums left on your doorstep and a lingering glance as the handsome young commissioner passed your stall during his weekly stroll through the city market. For a short while, after his possessive habits began to rear their head and you were able to catch his guards in your peripheral more often than not, your subconscious was tinted a near-violent shade of scarlet, the kind that would leave you drenched in your own sweat and half-suffocated by the time you forced yourself to wake up. Recently, since he announced your engagement, they’d taken on a darker shade; choking velvets and deep crimsons blurring the distorted setting as Ayato’s faceless body moved on top of you, as his mouth unhinged and his lashing tongue dragged you down his waiting throat. On your worst nights, he’d tear you apart with his hands, first, divide you into neat, orderly pieces that he could slip past his lips and savor one at a time, one after another, until there was nothing left of you. He’d always preferred you in your most consumable form.

It was ironic, really, considering just how little red he let seep into your waking life. Maybe you had a deficiency; like a pregnant woman craving fish to make up for a lack of calcium. The closest you got to red from the doorway to his study were a few cherry blossoms fluttering past the window, their color dulled by age and their tree nearly stripped bare by the approaching winter. He looked away from his paperwork as you shrugged past the screen door, his pale eyes lighting up as he saw the tea tray in your hands. It was Thoma’s handiwork, but you doubted Ayato cared. He wanted to see you in the role of a caretaker, playing out the part he wrote for you to the best of your limited acting skills. What happened behind the curtain was none of his concern.

“To what do I owe the honor?” he asked as you set the tray on his desk. “I can’t remember the last time you visited me on your own.”

You flashed him a small smile. “Can’t I dote on my soon-to-be husband freely?”

He visibly straightened at the word ‘husband’, a familiar zeal infecting his expression. There was a quirk to his grin, a light tap to his thigh, and the tea went ignored as you obediently fell into his lap, your legs hanging over the side of his chair as his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you snug against him. If he was a monster, he’d be one with a thousand hands and a million fingers; he couldn’t seem to go a full minute without clutching at your hips, groping at your chest, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a deep, relieved sigh. “Husband,” he repeated back to you, all spellbound awe and deceiving wonder. “Archons, I can’t wait to be your husband.”

You wondered, sometimes, if it was his childhood that made him the way he was. After so many years of loneliness, so many tiny disappointments and frigid betrayals, you could only imagine he’d be eager to grab the first warm body he could and refuse to let you go. But, he let Ayaka come and go as she pleased, and seemed to take a certain delight in sending Thoma off on long-winded, far-flung errands. Whatever cruelty his upbringing had bred, it was clearly reserved for you.

His hand slid underneath the slit of your yukata, his breath turning hot and unpleasant against your collarbone, and you drew back with an airy laugh. “I do have an ulterior motive,” you admitted, hoping his curiosity would offset his insatiability, if only for a few seconds. “It’s about my wedding dress.”

“The breathtaking and priceless dress I’m having made by the nation’s most talented tailors so that all of Inazuma will know that I’m marrying the most beautiful person in Teyvat?” He raised his head, clicking his tongue. “What about it?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” you said, because he wouldn’t listen to you if you didn’t and you needed him to listen to you. “It’s just— I’m such a long way from home, and I know my family won’t be able to come, but—” You cut yourself off, swallowing back the bile that threatened to spoil your sweet smile. “I was hoping we’d be able to incorporate my mother’s dress, somehow. If it’s not too late.”

It wasn’t. You’d been tracking the progress of his tailors meticulously, counting down the days until your wedding like a prisoner waiting for their execution date, and if it was one of his whims, another row of bedding added onto the sleeves or a new embroidery pattern worked onto the train, you knew that there’d be all the time in the world to make any adjustments he asked for. Still, his smile wavered, a brief sigh slipping past his lips as he shook his head. “My love,” The petname lulled off of his tongue as if it’d been coated in sugar and syrup and all the worst things you could think of. “That’s quite the risk to take. The poor thing’s so old, it might fall apart as soon as the tailor’s needle touches it.”

He'd been crueler, before – called the dress a rag as he looked at you with disdain-tinted pity, swore that your reliance on the filthy relic must’ve been caused by some inherent failure of your homeland – but your heart still clenched just a little tighter in your chest at his veiled disdain. “I’d like to try, at least.” Your hands curled around his collar, your frown taking on a more pleading note. “Please, my lord?” A pause, a tightened hold. “Please, Ayato?”

It was his given name, loving and tender and so rarely spoken in your voice, that did him in. He relented with an airy groan, letting his head roll forward in faux exasperation. “We’ll see.”

You beamed, but he was too lost in you to notice, already preoccupied with pressing open-mouthed kisses into your shoulders, your neck. The sash of your yukata was drawn loose, your sleeves pulled down to your elbows and your body shifted onto his desk, where he could spread your legs apart and bury his face between them. Your eyes drifted back to the cherry blossoms trickling past the window, but whatever tree they’d been falling from had finally been stripped bare. All you could see was the bright, cloudless sky – blue enough to leave you burnt and begging for a storm.

~

Two springs ago, the Kamisato Estate had been overrun with finches.

It’d been a comedy of errors, in hindsight. Ayaka had taken up a fondness for a new kind of flower – one native to Sumeru, introduced to her by an outlander with golden hair and knowing eyes. Thoma, the miracle worker that he was, quickly found a way to propagate it in the estate’s garden, and within the month, little violet blossoms had consumed all that they could reach despite the best efforts of the gardeners to keep them in-check. It would’ve been a delightful problem to have on its own, but the peak of the infestation happened to align with an annual migration of a type of finch that happened to hold a particular shining for a plant with a similar shape and color and— well, anyone could’ve guessed what happened next.

It was a nightmare for Thoma and the other groundskeepers and, since Ayato was staying in the city on business, paradise for you. You spent your days in the courtyard, showing the servants’ children how to braid crowns out of vines and press flowers between the pages of books stolen from Ayato’s personal library. You and Ayaka fed seeds to the red-crowned invaders and coaxed them close enough to pet and sketch, as little talent as you had for the latter, and she listened as you rambled excitedly about the crane-headed whistles you used to make every summer for a very wealthy ornithologist with very slippery fingers. She was just as lonely as her brother, albeit significantly less deranged, and you – trapped, isolated, desperate you – were the perfect victim for her. The two of you were never quite friends, but you came close that spring.

And then, Ayato returned. The flowers were uprooted, the children sent back to their chores, and the finches driven away with nets and stones and salt. You sobbed for hours the day the final flock left, and by means of consolation, Ayato presented you with a blue-speckled wren in a cage of pure silver, silk flowers bound to the bars with yellow ribbons as a reminder of your lost haven. To this day, you still aren’t sure if he meant it to be as cruel of a gift as it was.

You made it all of two days before risking another month spent shackled to Ayato’s bed and sneaking past the guards posted at the estate’s frontmost gates, the golden cage tucked against your chest. You released it in the woods, somewhere with plenty of tree cover and places to hide while it remembered how to be a wild creature, and watched with a smile as it fluttered past the cage’s door and into the open air, eventually landing on the leaf-littered ground.

It hopped all of three tiny steps before a fox emerged from the underbrush and swallowed it whole.

~

“Are you still with us, love?”

You should’ve gone limp. You should’ve acted as if the pain had gotten to you. You should’ve pretended you were dead to the world and that you couldn’t feel his cock languidly thrusting into you and that you’d gone numb to the searing iron slowly cooling into against the small of your back but, for as resentful as your mind was to him, your body was entirely subservient to Ayato. You tried to respond verbally, and when your voice caught in your throat, you forced yourself to nod, the motion small and shaky. Ayato rewarded you with a breathy chuckle, a fleeting touch to the curve of your spine. A hundred pinpricks of purified agony accompanied his touch.

The silver brand had been commissioned from the finest metal crafters in Inazuma City, made to resemble the warped camellia that was the Kamisato Clan’s crest, and you let out an agonized scream as Ayato drew it back and pressed a calloused thumb into the tender patch of burnt skin. “You always do make such pretty noises for me.” He circled the shape of the white-hot bloom, drawing out another ragged whimper. “It’s a shame I only get to hear them when you misbehave.”

You wanted to apologize, to beg for his forgiveness, but try as you might, you couldn’t seem to remember what you’d done wrong. You hadn’t tried to run away. You hadn’t talked to any of the servants. You hadn’t done anything aside from smile and sit beside him as he spoke with the head of another clan – an older man whose eyes burnt into you for the entirety of their brief conversation. As far as you could tell, he was just a particularly shameless nobleman trying to decipher the curiosity that was the Yashiro Commissioner’s reclusive bride, but Ayato hated letting other men gawk at you at the best of times. Such prolonged exposure would’ve surely brought out the worst of his possessive habits.

You felt something tighten in your chest, catch in your throat, but you only realized you were crying when Ayato’s lips ghosted over your cheek, the gentleness of the gesture quickly replaced with the brutality of his fingers tangled in your hair, your head forced down and into the plush of his bed. You body threatened to collapse, but his free hand fell to your hip, keeping your back arched and your ass raised as he ground lazily into your cunt, in no rush to put you out of your suffering. “I think,” he groaned, lust heavy in his voice. “We’re going to have a big family. Half a dozen kids, at least.”

You beat your fists against the mattress, shaking your head violently, and he twitched inside of you. “They’ll have your eyes,” he went on, a sadistic delight in his voice. “And my swordsmanship, and I’ll love them as much as I love you.” He paused, the head of his cock scraping against something deep and vulnerable inside of you. “Well, almost as much as I love you. As much as I can.”

You tried to struggle, to get away from him, but Ayato held you close, his grip as unrelenting as his slow, aching tempo. With a calculated sort of grace, he leaned towards you, slotting his chest against your back and bringing his mouth to the shell of your ear. “You don’t think it’s too soon to start, do you, darling?”

All you could do was try and fail to scream in response.

~

The first gift Ayato ever gave to you was a necklace the color of freshly split sapphires.

He insisted that you not think of it as a present, that you consider it little more than justified repayment for an item from your stall broken by the clumsy fingers of one of his couriers, but it was a present, it couldn’t be anything else. His courier had paid for the ruined pottery days prior, and yet, he’d sought you out in person to apologize with that sun-bright smile, to let his fingertips brush against yours as he passed you a satin-lined case with a perfect, ocean-blue velvet choker tucked safely inside. It was a beautiful thing, embellished with silver and dripping with transparent crystals, but you’d liked the color most of all. It’d reminded you of Ayato, and there’d been a time when you treasured any excuse to think of him.

You’d worn it the first time you saw each other properly, too. The occasion wasn’t formal enough to warrant something so needlessly extravagant, but you couldn’t seem to stop smiling for the entirety of your brief-meal-turned-seven-hour-conversation, and as your night came to an end, perched on the edge of a cliff underneath the Raiden Shogun’s palace and breathless from laughing, he told you that if you weren’t careful, he might just fall in love with you. You’d told him that, if he waited a few more days, you might fall in love with him, too.

You’d been wearing the same necklace when he broke your heart for the first time. It’d been an overcast day, the sky a clouded blueish grey and the shogun’s fury just barely audible in the far distance. He told you, with that perfect grin and those lonely eyes, that it really was terribly improper for the lover of a commissioner to run some meager stall in a sweat-soaked market, that he owed you better than a cramped room on the outskirts of the city where you had to wade through hours of farmland to reach anything of importance. When you said that you enjoyed your work, that you adored the back-breaking labor of your craft and loved having neighbors who would leave baskets of cabbage and lavender melon on your doorstep in exchange for misshapen cups and off-pattern bowls, he laughed as if you’d said the funniest thing in the world and cupped your face in his hands, pulling you into a kiss deep enough and sweet enough to make you forget whether or not you’d agreed with him.

You were brought to the Kamisato estate less than a full month later and had yet to leave since.

~

The final garment was delivered two weeks before your wedding day. You watched from your pavilion as Ayato met the courier at the estate’s gates, accepting a large package wrapped in scarlet silk and brushing off the guards’ attempts to carry it on his behalf. You were embroidering, that day – a delicate, time-consuming art that Ayato praised in comparison to the messy, unpredictable medium of clay. You loathed the monotony of it, the strictness of the patterns, but it meant Ayato was less likely to break your fingers when he found you scrounging away spare mora in the hopes of some perpetually eventual escape and so, you embroidered.

“My mother’s dress,” you said, as soon as he was close enough to hear you. The wooden hoop was forgotten in your lap as you stared up at him, hope written clearly across your expression. “Do you know what they did with it?”

His grin widened. “Eager, are we?” You nodded frantically, and he added, “If I’d didn’t know better, I’d say you care about a dress more than your own betrothed.”

He settled next to you, the package laid across his thighs. He moved to unwrap it, then pivoted – his attention shifting as his gloved hand took hold of your wrist. He’d been touching you more delicately, lately, something you couldn’t help but link with his long-brewing but only recently materialized desire for children. It was a problem you elected to deal with later on, after the wedding, if only for your own inability to process just how horrific of a problem it was.

(There was a part of you which knew, even before your conscious mind could bear to accept it, that you would never be able to love something he put inside of you. Ayato’s obsession was enduring, able to feed off of nothing and contort reality to suit its needs, but your love had always been a rational thing, bound to end the moment it became inconvenient to house. Your love for your homeland died with your mother. Your love for Ayato died with your abduction. And, whatever love you could’ve had for a child— no, a shackle would die the moment the foul creature was born. You could hold no affection for a child that was made in Ayato’s image, that would be cleaved from your flesh for the sake of his happiness, and if by some miracle you did love the monstrosity, then you could only assume it would be because you’d abandoned all hope for yourself. Both futures seemed equally grim.)

“Ayato,” you simpered, leaning against his side. “Please?”

He rolled his eyes, playing soft as he handed you the oversized package. “It should be wrapped separately. I said I didn’t want to see the finished product until the day-of.”

Your hands shook as you undid the many knots. A smaller bundle sat within, separate from the tumor of ivory fabric you forced yourself not to linger on, and you took it up with a desperate sort of keenness, practically trembling as you tore it open with no regard for the integrity of its packaging. The crimson silk was torn away to reveal—

Blue.

Dark, never-ending blue.

“The color came out so beautifully. I’m glad you protested the way you did – otherwise, I might’ve never known we were missing something on our wedding day.” This time, you didn’t fight as he tore the remains of your mother’s dress out of your hands, holding out a sash the shade of apathetic night. You searched for something familiar, for something you could use to ground yourself, but it was absent of all recognizability, desecrated to the point of being all-but alien to you. “It had to be dyed, of course, but I’ve been told the process only cost it a moment of its integrity. The tailors—”

You blinked, but your vision remained black when you opened your eyes. Your body was lurching forward, and then you were in Ayato’s arms, limp and buzzing. Ayato was laughing, as shocked as you were drained, and you made no effort to pull away from him. “My poor little wife. I know – the anticipation’s almost too much to bear.” He pressed a kiss into your forehead. “Why don’t we spend some time together, like we used to? I think I can push my obligations aside for the day, considering the occasion.”

You didn’t respond, but he gathered into his arms regardless. He had always seemed to prefer you as dead weight.

~

You did end up in red on your wedding day, but you doubted you’d be getting married, anymore.

His own sword slid and out of his back with a wet, gripping noise – only interrupted when the blade slipped in your hands and hit bone rather than viscera. Blood splattered against the white of your kimono with every plunge, staining the susceptible fabric easily and leaving you struggling to keep your feet underneath you as the puddle of scarlet grew deeper, as the screen walls began to drip and your lungs filled with copper and iron. Ayato, the ever-worried lover that he was, had come to check on you before the ceremony, fussing over your blank eyes and the tear-tracks that had ruined your make-up twice, by then. He’d been concerned, but giddy, unable to keep himself away from you despite his many promises of tradition and decor.

He'd made it three, maybe four minutes before beginning to toy with the clasps running down your chest.

You’d taken up the first thing you saw – a hand mirror gilded with shining rose gold – and brought it down on his head.

That, on its own, would’ve left him with a scar and little else, but you’d worked quickly, drawing the sword from its sheath on his belt and bringing it down into anything that seemed vital, anything you could reach, anything that bled calming, soothing red. He stopped moving on the fifth strike, his uncalled upon Vision going dull on the sixth, and on the seventh, you heard someone call for the guards.

You waited until you could hear their footsteps before falling to your knees, bringing the point of your blade to your stomach and clenching your eyes shut, praying to any archon who would listen that you’d hit something they couldn’t be healed, that they’d lend you a more merciful fate than another jail cell, another lifetime of entrapment.  You plunged the blade into your stomach and—

And were met with little more than a cold, blunt sensation and a bottomless pit of despair.

You opened your eyes, your gaze flickering from your ice-coated blade to the doorway of your dressing room, now occupied by Kamisato Ayaka, one hand raised and her Vision pulsing at her side. Guards rushed in on either side of her, grabbing at your shoulders and wrists, but your stare never left Ayaka, her parted lips, her flushed cheeks.

Her bright eyes, just as blue and just as lonely as her brother’s had ever been.

[joooooniecore]

Re-finding home

yoongixfem!reader, enemies to lovers, not exactly enemies because Yoongi is a sweetheart, Yoongi is a famous basketball player

PLOT: after break up when you go back to your home town, old feelings re-surface.

WARNINGS: smut, explicit scenes, foul language, minors dni, smut scene has been marked, skip if uncomfortable

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“You are too boring so I did what I did.”

This was the last sentence you heard from your current ex-boyfriend of five years who cheated on you just a week before your anniversary. You packed all your bags and decided to go back to your hometown permanently. Your mother has already heard you cry enough over call and when Namjoon, your best friend, demanded you to come back home, you quickly agreed.

The plan was simple. You go back to your hometown. Enjoy a good break and then plan what you want next. You decided to get a job in the nearby town since you had a very goof portfolio. You never realized how weak you could be physically just from a breakup. The breakup was harsh but you weren’t someone who would show that you were bothered. You were a very strong-willed woman and hated showing other people your weak side. So sniffing your nose, you packed everything and was ready to take the flight back home.

You decided to come back later to clean up your apartment.

Hopping on the plane, you were actually excited to meet your friends. It has been almost five years since you last went home. You have been busy with life and spending time with your boyfriend that you cancelled several plans just to please him. He would get grumpy whenever you decided to plan a vacation back to the hometown. Hence you stopped planning altogether. Mark, your ex was also from the same town as yours but his parents have long shifted to the States leaving him no reason to return back to that small flimsy town ever. You on the other hand always loved your town. It was small, refreshing and warm. The close knitted society always made you feel welcomed and you loved getting pampered by every neighbor.

Hoseok has already contacted you as you could hear his big smile when he gushed about how happy he was. Hoseok has been your best friend since ages and being able to finally see him made you immensely happy.

“Jungkook and Taehyung have been tearing my ear off since they learned about your arrival.”, chuckled Hoseok over the phone.

You were currently seated in the plane which won’t take off for a good ten minutes so you decided to call him.

“Really? The kids are all grown up.”, you reminisced as a soft smile adorned your face.

You, Hoseok, Namjoon and Seoah were of the same age in school whereas Taehyung was a year younger and Jungkook two. The five of you became close in secondary school itself and have been unbreakable ever since. Jungkook was practically raised by you as he struggled through subjects while you diligently helped him.

“Is everyone in town now?”, you finally asked.

“Yes. Everyone.”, Hoseok said with a giggle which left you confused.

“Why do you sound sus?”, you asked.

“Because even the Min Yoongi is back in town.”, he said and the ground beneath your feet shifted.

Yoongi was Hoseok’s elder cousin brother who was a year older than you. Even when you guys were young, you knew he hated your guts. He would make a disgruntled noise whenever you tried to talk with him or even stand within his eye range. You both fought like animals. From pulling pranks to ugly name calling, it has always been you against him. But all this didn’t stop you from falling in love with the captain of your school’s basketball team.

You tried to avoid the feeling, through fights and badmouthing but nothing helped. That’s when you started dating Mark and decided to shift to the States for the sake of your job and relationship. You thought that years away from him would erase the teenage feelings you had once but no. The moment you heard his name, your heart started beating fast and the tingling sensation all across your body made sure to remind you about his handsome face and confident aura.

Reaching home was the easiest thing for you. You took your luggage and literally rushed out of the airport only to find Namjoon waiting for you, outside the gate.

Your town was 30 miles away from the nearest airport. One has to hire a car or hop on the local bus to reach the town. You were actually glad that Namjoon came because you were tired to your bones and in no way had the mental capacity to get on a bus or even bargain while hiring a car.

“I missed you idiot.”, Namjoon said as he pulled you in a bone crushing hug. You melted in his embrace as you felt the warmth of a family member after so many years.

You giggled as he took you to his car and settled your luggage in the trunk before opening the door for you to settle in.

“When did you learn to drive?”, you asked as soon as Namjoon took the driver’s seat.

“A year back. I realized I need to since you betrayed me and went away.”, he grumbled as he turned on the engine.

“Well I can’t be your forever driver.”, you chuckled.

The front door opened with a loud click and the first one to hug you tight was your sister. When you left town, you knew that despite having so many people to miss, the person you will miss the most was your sister. She was only two years younger than you and you both have always been close-knitted. You shared secrets, problems and even went to most of the places together.

“Give me a chance to hug her too.”, came your mother’s soft voice as she walked towards you with glistening eyes.

“Mom, I told you to not cry.”, you whined but pulled her in a warm hug. Your dad left you when you both were very young and even though initially you had grudge against him for being so selfish as you picked up the pieces of broke heart of your mom, now it is just a bittersweet feeling that just feels uneasy to your stomach. You loved your mom and sister dearly and would tear down the world for them.

Namjoon stood a bit farther away as he saw the three of you with warmth in his eyes. Namjoon has been your rock since a very young age. He was there when you had your first heartbreak. He was there when you failed the class tests. He was there when your dad left, catering to the needs of your family at just the ripe age of fifteen.

“Why are you standing there alone idiot. Join the group hug.”, your mother snickered before pulling Namjoon in too.

The four of you chatted for god knows how many hours about everything. You filled them in with every information about your life that they might have missed. None of them talked about your breakup and you were actually glad. You were still not in the mental state to talk about it without breaking down in tears.

You then teased your sister and Namjoon for their dating. Namjoon has always had a thing for your little sister and even though you were strict about it at first, you soon realized the intensity of his emotions when he helped your sister while you were away and hence, you almost wanted him to date her. You were so happy for them.

“You should help us in the town’s autumn festival this year.”, Namjoon proposed.

“Huh? Me? What can I do?”, you tilted your head in confusion as you asked.

“I know you bake really mean cake and cookies. You can open your own stall.”, Namjoon suggested as he wrapped his hands around your sister.

You haven’t baked anything in ages. You used to back a lot in high school and even fell in love with it all thanks to your mother. Your ex never liked sweets and hence slowly you found no reason to bake a whole cake.

“I-I need to practice. Lost the touch you know.”, you chuckled awkwardly.

“No worries. Aunt will teach you it again. The preparation doesn’t start properly till next week so you have enough time to catch up.”, he gently said.

“I-Are you sure you would need my help?”, you asked, still not confident about your abilities.

“Yes. Come on ____. Even Yoongi is helping us.”, Namjoon nagged.

“Yoongi is in town!?”, your mom interjected even before you could speak.

“Yes, he is.”, Namjoon informed.

“Oh my! I missed that lad. He has been all over the place and now he is finally back.”, your mother laughed.

“All over the place? What does that mean?”, you asked.

“Not your fault. You don’t stay updated much with sports.”, clarified Namjoon.

“Just search Min Yoongi on the internet.”, he pointed towards your phone before you could ask another question.

The search results left you in shock. Min Yoongi, the youngest captain of the national basketball team. There were thousands of interviews and news links which talked about how good he was at it. A persistent, sharp and extremely passionate basketball player. Your eyes went wide as you saw the pictures and noticed how much he has changed. The lanky kid who looked so thin that you thought he didn’t eat much is now bulked up, with hair reaching down to his neck, tied up in a small bun as he easily put the ball through the basket.

“Wow.”, was all you could say as soon as you closed your mobile.

“Yeah. He is in town because of a shoulder injury which has left him kind of useless initially. It has been four months since he is here and he is mostly recovered. I met him before I came to pick you up from the airport.”, Namjoon explained.

“D-Does he know that I am here?”, you asked nervously.

“Yeah, he does. I think Hoseok told him.”, Namjoon informed.

“Ugh that big mouth. Does he know the reason too?”, you annoyingly ask.

“I don’t know. Even if he does, he is not someone who likes gossiping much.”, said Namjoon.

_________

The next few days go by in a blur as you try to get used to the life at home again. You wake up early and go on a walk around the town with your sister and return back with groceries or whatever you find good from the market. The people in the town were elated to see you and asked several questions about life in a foreign country. You sweetly answer to them, all while avoiding the topic of why you returned.

“Oh just needed a break.”, you would say as you laughed awkwardly.

Everything came to a halt as you entered Namjoon’s house one evening because he wanted to hold a meeting for the festival. His living room was filled with the chatters of your friends as you entered inside and scanned the place.

Jungkook and Taehyung were seated on the sofa along with another guy who was extremely pretty was what you concluded. You later learned that he was Jimin, Taehyung’s college friend who recently settled here. Beside them in a large single seat, sat Hoseok along with Jin. You haven’t talked to Jin properly ever. He was a lot older than most of you and was always busy with taking care of his education and maintaining his family restaurant.

As you turned your head you saw Seoah sitting beside Sana as they talked animatedly about something. Seeing you, they waved and called you to sit with them on the floor. You softly smiled as you settled beside them. They asked you several questions which you gladly answered.

“I knew that you would be a STEM girlie someday.”, giggled Sana as she patted your back.

“Did you hear?”, asked Seoah next.

“What?”, you and Sana both asked.

“Min Yoongi is in town.”, she said with her eyes big as saucers.

“Ah yes, I know. I met him last Tuesday.”, informed Sana.

“Our ____ had a crush on him, right?”, teased Seoah which made Sana giggle uncontrollably.

You glared at them and then turned around with a huff. You were not going to get teased by them for some teenage crush that you had but listening to his name still gave you butterflies.

At that very moment, the front doorbell rung and Namjoon clumsily got up before opening it wide to reveal none other than Yoongi. The gossip of the town. The guy who was famous and this town’s pride and joy. The guy whom you loved and probably still do. The guy who was once a bane to your existence.

He walked in and waved at everyone along with his classic lopsided smile before his eyes fell on you. His jaw tightened as he quickly averted his vision and walked up to Hoseok and Jin to sit beside them. Your heart sank. You knew he hated you and you even playfully tried to annoy him most of the times but in all those times you just wanted to grab his attention. Mark was the one who told you how much Yoongi disliked your presence and that was enough for you to retract back. He has always been the talk of the town. He was famous, handsome and a very smooth talker apparently though you have never been the one to receive his flirtatious remarks.

“He has become even more handsome.”, whispered Sana and you and Seoah could only silently agree.

The meeting went along pretty well as Namjoon divided tasks. Apparently, the youth of the town are taking over this festival to make it a successful one and Namjoon being the responsible kid that he is, has taken over the duty to lead the team on. He had always had a leader aura and you were proud of how he carried himself in a room full of people. You have never been confident. Even though you commenced several meetings and lead your team, you were never confident if you don’t have anything prepared beforehand. You loved planning, checklists and preparation. You hated sudden changes and even trying something new.

After the meeting, Namjoon brought in several plates full of snacks and placed them on the table with the help of Hoseok and Jin. Everyone mingled and talked while they enjoyed the snacks. You sat on the big sofa which was empty now and nurtured a soda drink and some fries. The sofa dipped a bit and you turned to your side to find Yoongi sitting beside you with a can soda in his hand.

“How long are you here?”, Yoongi finally asked breaking the silence.

“Why? Already bothering you?”, you snickered back.

Yoongi rolled his eyes as he took another gulp of the drink before speaking again, “I tend to ignore you darling.”

Your blood boiled at the nickname and you couldn’t pinpoint if it was because of attraction or murderous instincts. You clenched your jaw before turning away from him as you decided that he won’t affect you anymore.

“I heard you are baking for the autumn festival.”, Yoongi commented again.

“Yes.”, came your curt reply.

“Don’t burn the whole festival down please.”, Yoongi smirked.

Your eyes went wide as you glared at him before huffing and busying yourself with your phone. Yoongi always knew how to get on your nerves and even if his close proximity, his musky fragrance and the warmth that radiated from his body made your head dizzy, you were adamant enough to not show him any form of weakness.

___________________

The next few days went by in a blur as you re-learned all the bakery skills that you once knew by heart. Your mom was very patient with you as she walked you through the processes over and over again. Finally after practicing enough, you baked your first cake and a few cookies and it came out delicious. You ask your sister to call Namjoon over and to do a taste test before he decides to actually allow your stall in the festival.

“Uhm- actually Yoongi hyung is with me right now. Can I bring him over too?”, Namjoon awkwardly asked over the speaker as your sister stifled a laugh.

“Yes, you can Joon.”, you reluctantly replied because you weren’t that rude of a person.

A few moments later the doorbell rung and your mom went up to open it and let the two boys in.

“Oh my god! Yoongi-ah it has been such a long time since I last saw you.”, your mother gushed as she pulled Yoongi in a hug.

“I have been well. How have you been?”, Yoongi politely smiled and it felt like a gut punch. Yoongi has always been so polite and warm to everyone around you except you and maybe just maybe that is the thing that always bothered you. You always tried to capture his attention by annoying him and tried to get some kind of reaction out of him. He was always so calm and collected that it made you annoyed. He was confident and you were not and that made you realize how incompetent you are for him.

Your mother gushed and giggled as she talked with a very charming Yoongi as you grumbled and set the table with your cake and cookies. Namjoon soon noticed you as he came over to help you out.

“Ugh I hate him.”, you mumbled to no one in particular.

“Yeah sure.”, Namjoon laughed and you glared at him.

“What was that for?”, you said through gritted teeth.

“Come on ___. At least don’t lie to me.”, Namjoon sighed as he patted your shoulder once before walking over to your sister with a smile.

Your mother helped you cut the cake into pieces and serve everyone as you sat on the sofa, with a cup of coffee.

“I am shocked you didn’t mix salt instead of sugar.”, Yoongi teased as he sat beside you, too close for your own good. You slowly sipped your coffee as you tried to ignore the aggressive beating of your heart. The warmth of Yoongi’s thigh pressed against yours in the small sofa of your house did nothing good to your dizzy mind.

“Be glad I didn’t mix poison in the piece you are eating.”, you finally said back, trying to hide the flush of your cheeks.

Yoongi kept his hand on your shoulder and leaned in to whisper, “I would even eat poison if you offer me.”

Your eyes went wide as Yoongi took another bite from the cake you have baked, licking the fork clean before diving in for some more. Your eyes involuntarily follow his fingers up to his lips and stay there as he eats the cake. You are bought out of your thoughts when you feel your sister’s eyes on you.

“Your emotions are very visible.”, your sister said as soon as Yoongi got up to keep his plate in the sink. You cleared your throat as you brought your attention back to your coffee and hoped for this torture to get over soon.

You were asked to visit the festival arena to help the others with moving stuffs. You got up early and grabbed some breakfast before heading out. The journey was a short walk around the main street and down an alley to a big field that was well kept only for festivals and other such occasions.

As soon as you entered the gates, you spotted Jungkook carrying a few crates laden with fruits to a nearby storage area. You ran up to him and greeted him. He replied with a full watt smile as he kept the things in the shaded area before turning towards you and pulling you with him to where everyone was.

“Noona is here!”, he screamed excitedly as he entered a small tent along with you. Your friends were all there, sitting and discussing about the arrangement of the stalls. You spotted Sana and sat beside her.

“Where is Seoah?”, you ask as soon as you settled down.

“Oh she has to help her mom with few things so she is out of town.”, Sana informed.

Namjoon explained everything to your group and finally gave each one tasks to carry out before lunch. You and Jimin were given the task to sort the boxes so that Jungkook, Namjoon, Jin and Yoongi placed them in their respective places. Sana, Hoseok and Taehyung were asked to manage the decorations. After working for hours diligently, you decided to rest a bit in the storage unit as Jimin handled other things.

“Not doing work I see.”, came a deep voice. You looked up to find Yoongi leaning against the door frame of the storage unit with his arms crossed over his chest.

You rolled your eyes before dropping your eyes to your mobile again. Soft footsteps were heard and within a few seconds, Yoongi was seated beside you. He smelled so good and you had to control your urges. You noticed how he has already discarded the jacket he was wearing and is now in a short-sleeved t-shirt which showed off his biceps proudly as his arms flexed when he sat beside you. You gently noticed the bandage that peaked through the sleeves indicating his recent surgery.

“Are you allowed to lift heavy boxes?”, you asked as you pointed towards his injury.

Yoongi shifted a bit, as if trying to avoid the topic but then answered gently, “No. I am not lifting the heavy ones. Only the light ones which can be lifted with one hand.”

You nodded your head and said, “I see.”

“Why? Worried about me darling?”, Yoongi smirked causing you to roll your eyes for the umpteenth time.

“Please. I was just curious of how reckless you can get.”, you remarked.

“I heard about your break up by the way.”, Yoongi commented and you sucked your teeth.

“Yeah.”, you answered.

“It’s okay. I am not asking questions.”, Yoongi raised his hand to shut your thoughts down.

“It’s fine. Just a bit in shock. I-I haven’t talked about it much. He-uhm he cheated on me.”, You softly confess and you could see Yoongi clench his jaws.

“He was always a dick huh?”, he answered with a disgruntled sigh.

The conversation died down from there as Yoongi got up to do some more work and you also decided to finish everything up before lunch time. You were already tired and you needed food. The work soon got over and your group was actually impressed by the amount of progress that was made. Jin took you guys to his restaurant and served fresh home cooked meal which everyone ate with happy hearts.

____________________

“Why do I need to be with Yoongi?”, you interjected as soon Namjoon opened his mouth.

“Because you need help with the cashing at the counter.”, Namjoon reasoned.

Currently you were sitting in your sofa as he asked you to team up with Yoongi for the days of the festival. You were planning on managing baking and selling alone but Namjoon was adamant enough to help you out.

“Can’t someone else be with me?”, you pouted as you tried to convince him.

“No ____. We all have our own stalls to take care of. Only Yoongi is free.”, Namjoon nagged and you finally agreed.

The day you were dreading the most finally as Yoongi rang the doorbell of your house and you got out to see him standing near his truck.

“This is nightmare.”, you lowly whispered but Yoongi’s ears were sharp enough to hear it.

“Oh come on. How can the devil herself think of it as nightmare?”, Yoongi smirked as he opened the trunk for you to keep your things inside. You huffed as you put in the cartoons full of baked goods and also all the ingredients required to bake stuffs. Namjoon was intelligent enough to book you a stall that is closer to some sort of electric supply, hence you could microwave goods.

After settling everything in the back of the truck, Yoongi walked around the car to open the passenger door for you as he gestured you to get inside with a smirk. Rolling your eyes you settled on the seat and Yoongi took the driver’s place. The inside of Yoongi’s truck was extremely clean. It smelled exactly like Yoongi did, warm, musky and weirdly comforting.

By evening, the entire arena was bustling with people. There were multiple people working in the stalls and even more people roaming around and buying things. You diligently worked side by side with Yoongi as you packed orders and Yoongi maintained the cash. The initial rush soon evaporated and you could take a breath of relief as the frequency of people coming to your stall decreased.

You were quietly baking a new batch of cookies when you felt someone call you. You turned around to see your biggest nightmare, Mark, standing outside your stall. And the worst part? Yoongi was nowhere to be found. Your blood ran cold as you realized that you told Yoongi to go take a break before more customers started filling in.

After some initial hesitation, you walked up to the front and said, “Hello Mark.”

“It has been a while ____.”, Mark said with his usual sweet smile which once was the reason you giggled but now just gave you the ick.

“Yeah. What are you doing here?”, you asked trying to ignore the conversation altogether.

“My parents wanted to visit some relatives here so they brought me along.”, Mark replied.

You hoped for him to drop the conversation and walk away but he was still there, standing as if he owned the place and the rights to act so nonchalant in front of you after creating havoc in your life.

“Do you need something?”, you finally ask.

“Nothing much. I just wanted to see you.”, Mark shrugged.

“Well if you are done, you can move along.”, you say through gritted teeth.

Mark smirked. He had the audacity to smirk and say, “Oh come on. Don’t you miss me?”

You looked at him in shock. He had the audacity to stand in front of you and say such stuffs. Before you broke down, you saw Yoongi approaching the stall and somehow it relieved you. Your eyes met his and somehow you felt like he understood the desperation in them as he quickened his steps towards you.

“___? I asked something. Are you seeing someone else?”, Mark’s voice made you meet his eyes again.

“Yes I am.”, you said, keeping your voice steady. You had no idea why you said that. Was it instinct? Or just a simple realization. You didn’t get much time to think as Yoongi reached you, towering over Mark as he entered the stall and stood beside you.

“Are you okay?”, he asked with worried eyes as he completely ignored Mark.

“Yes. I am.”, you answered with a tremor in your voice.

Yoongi turned towards Mark and you could almost see his eyes turning dark as he scanned your ex up and down as if he were nothing.

“Mark. Long time no see.”, Yoongi said in a dangerously low voice.

“Ah Yoongi. It has been a long time. I heard they kicked you out of the team for your injury.”, Mark replied with an obnoxious smirk.

“So what? You know I would be great if you leave the fuck out of here.”, Yoongi replied with the same calm demeanor though you could see him clenching his jaw from where you stood as his hands were fisted.

“Oh I see how it is. ___, are you fucking Min Yoongi?”, Mark asked and your blood ran cold. You never expected him to be this bitter and crude in his remarks.

Before anyone else could say or do anything you spoke up, “And what if I am?”

Your response made Yoongi turn towards you. His eyes were speaking something unknown but you decided to ignore him as you sternly stared at Mark.

“Y-You are joking right? We were so good together baby.”, Mark pleaded as his expressions changed completely.

You laughed at the duality and said, “I am done with you. You ruined me. And Yoongi treats me right.”

You knew you were lying through your teeth but this was the only way out and you just hoped that Yoongi understood. Thankfully he did, as he draped his hand around your waist and kept it there. The warmth of his calloused fingers seeped through the fabric of your dress as you were pulled against him.

Mark seemed to believe the lie as he grumbled something incoherent and walked away not before glaring at Yoongi which was only answered with a middle finger and a smirk.

________________

The evening went along and Mark loitered around your stall, trying to find a chance to get you alone. You could feel his eyes on you. You asked Yoongi to keep pretending and he did. He did it too well.

Soft obvious touches on your hips. Hands holding yours for longer than intended. He even nuzzled his nose in the crook of your neck when you saw Mark staring at you. You could feel him smirk against your skin and it made you feel hot. You thought you were having a fever. Min Yoongi was no amateur. He knew how to love. He knew how to flirt. He knew how to show possessiveness. And you somehow knew that he would know how to fuck.

You couldn’t focus on anything but his long fingers as he took in orders. Or his raspy voice when he asked you to shift aside so that he could get something. The way he smiled at you or held you gaze made you feel like you were someone special.

Soon the festival ended and you were packing everything up as you felt a presence behind you. Two hands encircled around your waist and you knew who it was.

“Y-Yoongi?”, you stuttered.

“Yes?”, Yoongi replied with that deep timbre in his voice.

“I-Is Mark still here?”, you asked, hoping that he says no. You were done pretending. You wanted it to be real.

“No. He isn’t.”, came the only reply as everything stilled between you both. It was as if he was waiting for you to pull away.

“Oh.”, you replied dumbly but made no effort in moving away.

“Fuck ___. Do something. Pull away from me please.”, Yoongi murmured against your nape.

“What if I don’t?”, you replied as you turned around in his hold and stared at him.

“What if you had me all hot and bothered from the way you show possessiveness?”, you bravely asked and somehow hoped that he loses control.

“You liked the way I show possessiveness?”, Yoongi whispers in a low voice close to your ear as soon as he corners you inside the stall.

“Maybe?”, you cheekily reply and within seconds Yoongi was packing everything up and putting it in his truck before dragging you out of the stall and out of the festival not before waving a quick bye to Namjoon who could only roll his eyes in return. You have never seen him so stiff as he swiftly and skillfully drove his truck back to his place and took you inside.

!!SMUT WARNING!!

Yoongi wastes no time before. The moment the both you crossed the threshold of the front door, he slammed you against the closed door.

“Yoongi.” you whisper his name, but it almost came out as a whimper.

His gaze darkens, and a cocky smirk forms on his lips. Yoongi leans in and grazes his lips against your own. He's giving you a chance to pull away.

“Tell me to stop princess.”, Yoongi’s hot breath fans your lips as his hold on your hips tighten.

You hungrily take him in as if challenging him to do it. His eyes meet yours again and something switches as he hungrily claims your lips in a desperate kiss. Its hot, heavy and messy as he ravishes you. Your body melts against him as your mind combusts.

His hands pull you completely against him. His hold on your hips is firm. His tongue sneaks out and licks your bottom lip, asking for you to open for him. You decided to tease as you move apart a bit only to stare at his eyes and smirk. He twists your hair around his knuckles and swiftly tilt your head back, giving him all the access that he needs to trail hungry kisses down your neck. You easily lose control on your body as whimpers fill the air.

“You make me go crazy princess.” he growls into your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, definitely marking your skin with marks that will remain there for days.

“The way you showed me off as your boyfriend in front of your ex was so hot. I controlled myself from slamming you then and there against the nearby wall and ravish you.”

You moan and whimper as you grind your hips against his thigh which has found its place right between your legs. He pushes up his legs more to create even more friction on your core as you whimper even more. Yoongi wastes no time in lifting you up in bridal style and taking you to his bedroom before throwing you in the bed and getting on top.

You snatch the hem of your dress, hastily pull it over your head, and chuck it at him. He catches it and chuckles.

“So impatient love?”, he cocks his head and asks.

His gaze hungrily roams all across your naked body which was only covered in a matching lingerie set.

“Is this matching set meant to be seen by me?”, Yoongi asks as his fingers fiddle with the strap of your bra.

“Nah. I was planning to get laid tonight by Mark.”, you snicker as you try to infuriate him more. That does it for him as he firmly slips his hand behind your back and unclasps the bra, in one swift motion before discarding it too.

“Don’t fucking say his name.”, Yoongi harshly chokes your neck as he kisses you. Hard.

His hands work quickly to remove his belt. His eyes never leave your panting figure as you sit and wait for him. You press your legs together as he finally drops his pants and steps out of them.

Yoongi steps to you and grabs the back of your knees as he pulls them apart and settles his body in between before hovering over you. Tongues meet again as his hands roam every inch or your naked skin shamelessly.

Yoongi drops kisses down your jaw, trailing a wet path further down until he takes your nipple in his mouth. Teeth lightly bite down, making your arch your back. Your breasts press further in his face, and it has him moaning into them. His fingers plucking at your hardened nipple on your neglected breast that had your hips rolling against his thigh, seeking that delicious friction.

One of your hands goes into his hair, moving his hair off his face, while your other clutches the bedsheets to keep you sane.

His breathing has seemed to pick up just as much as yours has. He stares into your eyes for a moment like he’s promising you something unsaid. Yoongi stands straight on his knees and you take this chance to reach between your legs and grab the waistband of his underwear, tugging at them.

“Is that what you want?”, he chuckles, and you nod your head almost desperately.

“You have to say it. Tell me what you want princess?”, Yoongi asks in his raspy voice that elicits a moan from your lips

“Please Yoongi.”, you plead as he cocks his head in a teasing manner before smirking.

“Say it.”, he demands firmly. His fingers graze slowly down your thighs, fingers putting slight pressure over your very damp panties before he pulls them down your legs.

“Fuck darling. See how drenched you are for me.”, he said before he throws them over his shoulder and spreads your legs open wide. He runs his first two fingers back and forth over your sensitive clit and gently licks his them clean, making you suck your teeth.

“Tell me.”, a stern order followed by him retracting his fingers away.

“I want you to fuck me.”, you moan, your hips desperate to get his fingers back.

“Yoongi, I want your cock.”, you finally moan out.

That one seemed to do it as he spreads your burning core open with his opposite hand, his fingers slowly entering your wet entrance. You sigh at the sensation. You spread your knees as far as you can, trying to get him deeper. He huffs out a laugh and swiftly bends down to lick a stripe up your clit. Your hips jump on their own and your hands delve into his hair trying to keep him there.

“I knew you would like this. Listen to how wet you are.”, he smirks against the soft skin of your inner thigh as watches his own fingers fuck you.

He was right. You were dripping wet. The wet, squelching noises sounded so obscene. You moan. The wanting, neediness of the lust and desire was visible. You’re not sure when you last felt like this. You have yearned for him always.

“Please Yoongi.”, you beg incoherently, hips squirming around.

Yoongi doesn't hesitate and dives in. His tongue is unrelenting on your clit, flicking it back and forth with rapid strokes. He pulls his fingers out of you so he can push your legs apart more, leaving you completely open and utterly exposed to his feasting. He changes pace as he draws achingly slow circles around you. The teasing has you squirming to get closer to his mouth. He takes pity on you and he rests your legs on his shoulders. His skillful tongue works its way into you. This is a whole new sensation that you have never felt before.

You reach down, taking his hands into your own. Slowly you bring them up to your body so he can grab your breasts. He groans into your pussy as his hands squeeze your tits. Your legs start to shake around his head. Your insides start to tingle and tighten until you fall apart in his arms.

Pulling back, Yoongi places one more kiss on your clit. Reaching into the pocket of his discarded pants, you see him produce a square foil packet. Yanking down his own underwear, you watch as his hardened cock slaps his stomach as it springs free. He rips open the condom and watches you laid out before him as he slides it on. Leaning over your body he kisses you once more on the mouth.

He presses his hard cock against your clit. Grabbing your hips, he grinds against you. You roll your hips more making him groan in pleasure. Yoongi gently places kisses across the skin of your shoulder and the crook of your neck. Trailing his tongue up the side of your neck, he bites your ear lobe.

“Are you sure you want this?”, He asks softly in your ear.

“Yes.”, your voice was breathy.

“This isn’t a one-time thing, okay? I hope you know that.”, he whispers unsurely.

“I know.”, you softly smile.

Yoongi flips you over and bends you further forward, making your ass pop up more as your face is mashed against the pillows. Reaching between the two of you, Yoongi runs his cock along your pussy before he slowly starts to enter you. You can hear him let out a shuddering breath. He holds still and grips your hips tightly.

“I hope you know that I will ruin you for anyone else.”, he growls which causes a shudder down your spine.

With a quick snap, Yoongi was buried all the way in you. You moan loud as your hand clutch the shits desperately. Looking over your shoulder, you see Yoongi closing his eyes as his head was laid back. You push your ass back onto him, and his eyes fly to you. Biting your bottom lip, you smile at him and nod. Yoongi places his hands on your shoulders as his hips roll against your ass making your body rhythmically rock forward.

Your head falls forward loosely as you take in the sensation of him inside of you. The way his hands grip your shoulders, keeping control of your body. His thrusts start to speed up.

“Harder, Yoongi,” you gasp.

His hands come down, fingertips trace down your back and grab at your waist, pulling you back against him to meet every thrust. Your body starts to surge forward faster as his hips snap into you. The bedroom fills with obscene noises that make you even more wet. Your eyes start to roll back.

Yoongi pulls out of you and grabs your waist before swiftly turning you around to face him again. Your back hits the soft mattress as he thrusts himself back into you with a groan and a curse, his hand races down the front of your body over your hip until his fingers land on your clit. Skilled fingers start circling your overly sensitive bud.

“I want to see you while I fuck you into oblivion.”, he moans between thrusts.

“Oh, shit. Yoongi please.” you moan loudly.

“I know, I know,” he says breathlessly, continuing his relentless pace. Your heartbeat starts to quicken, your toes start to curl, and the delicious heat begins to spread across your body, making your skin flush.

“Look at you, shit.”

“So, fucking desperate for me.”

“Yoongi.” you whimper.

“Yes baby? You like that? Being fucked by me?”

Your walls clench around him and he smirks. His fingers work on your clit. He presses against it firmly instead as his cock still works its way in and out of you. Your eyes squeeze shut, your body tenses. You gasp.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Yoongi grunts, giving you one more hard thrust. He stills, and your walls continue to clench around him, milking him for all he's worth.

Dropping his head onto your shoulder, he catches his breath before pulling out of you. He gently presses a kiss on against your skin as he gently wipes off the sweat from your forehead. He looks at you gently and your heart melts.

“You look beautiful.” Yoongi softly admits before getting up.

He discards the condom and takes a quick shower as you lay there hearing the sound of shower. He come out with only a towel hung low on his hips.

!!SMUT ENDS HERE!!

“Do you want a shower or should I bring in a warm wet towel?”, he asks.

“I think I would shower.”, you softly answer.

“Perfect. I have prepared the bathtub for you.”, he said with a smile

“Perfect.” you answer, as your cheeks turn red.

After shower you lay beside him as he snuggles into you.

“Can I confess something?”, Yoongi softly asks for permission.

“Yes.”, you look over your shoulder.

“I-I like you. I mean I have liked you since high school.”, he confesses bashfully. You could visibly see his cheeks turning red and that is the most endearing thing you have ever seen.

“Since high school? But you hated my guts.”, you ask.

“That’s because of the way you made me feel. You weren’t scared of my cold demeanour.”, he reasons.

“Oh.”, you dumbly reply.

“Also, uhm Mark kind of lied to you when he said that I hated you. He knew about my crush and took advantage of it.”, Yoongi’s words hit you like a knife. You hated Mark now even more for this. Al these years you thought you took the right decision by not confessing your love to Yoongi thinking that he hates you. Mark made you believe that Yoongi hates you.

“I had a crush on you in high school too.”, you confess finally.

“What?”, Yoongi’s eyes go wide as he stares at you.

“B-But Mark?”, Yoongi stammered.

“Yeah. He lied. I liked you a lot and that’s why I annoyed you.”, you confess with a giggle.

Yoongi stared at you for so long that you feared that you broke him. He suddenly surged forward, hugging you tight before peppering you with soft kisses.

“I love you and I will make this right for you.”, Yoongi promised and you knew he wasn’t lying.

_____________________________________________________

Author's note: I hope you all liked this oneshot. Please ignore any sort of typos or grammatical mistakes. I am thinking of more plots to post in future. Please do comment down ideas. I would love to have some scenarios that I can use in future stories.