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edenesth · 3 days ago
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By Order of the Black Pirates
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An 'Ice On My Teeth' Comeback Special Series
"N-No, please! Spare me! I was wrong! I swear I'll never do it again!" The man's voice cracked as he grovelled on the damp ground, tears carving paths through the grime on his face. His trembling hands offered up the tiny diamond he'd been foolish enough to steal—his last-ditch effort to appease the eight figures towering over him like shadows of death.
He'd heard the whispers, the warnings: Never cross the Black Pirates. Never touch what belongs to them. Never even think of betrayal. Yet greed had blinded him. Now, staring into their cold, merciless eyes, he knew his regret was far too late.
The leader of the gang stepped forward, a smirk tugging at his lips as he tilted his head, studying the pitiful man like a cat sizing up a doomed mouse. "Didn't I ask you to screen these rats better?" he drawled, casting a sideways glance at the eldest among them before shifting his focus back to their prey. "No time to waste. Finish him."
A low chuckle echoed through the tension-filled night as the gang's usual executioner, a broad-shouldered figure clad in his signature fur coat, stepped forward, his grin as sharp as the blade in his hand.
"Sorry, buddy," he mused, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "This will be the night you take your final breath—by order of the Black fuckin' Pirates."
ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ
Watching the harrowing scene from a distance stood a figure with crossed arms, his voice low as he muttered to his right-hand, "Every man has a weakness. Find the Black Pirates', and we'll knock them off their high horses."
"And if they have none, sir?"
The figure's lips curled into a dark smile. "Then we'll make sure they do."
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Pairing(s): gang members!ateez x fem!reader
AU: gang au
Summary: One by one, the Black Pirates uncover their greatest weakness. But when the cracks begin to show, will they stand firm or let their vulnerabilities bring their empire to its knees?
Genre: angst, hurt/comfort
Trigger Warnings: violence, torture, abuse, blood, murder, language, contains dark themes in general
A/N: Credits to the wonderful @sundaybossanova for giving me the idea of something Peaky Blinders inspired. Thank you so much and ily💖
ATEEZ MASTERLIST
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Hongjoong
‣ The Captain [Coming soon]
The Captain of the Black Pirates—respected, feared, and unmatched in strategy—lives by his sharp mind and unshakable resolve. But his carefully constructed world begins to crumble when a grave mistake leads him to torture an innocent suspect nearly to death. Haunted by guilt, his quest for redemption takes an unexpected turn, awakening a part of him he never thought existed: a desire to protect and care for someone.
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Seonghwa
‣ The Gentleman [Coming soon]
The Black Pirates' poised diplomat, celebrated for his refined demeanour, sharp wit, and unmatched negotiation skills, is always in control. But his composure falters when he encounters an unwilling captive trapped in the Red Room—a ruthless training ground for spies. Driven by an unexpected urge to save her, he finds his carefully maintained boundaries beginning to unravel.
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Yunho
‣ The Enforcer [Coming soon]
The towering enforcer of the Black Pirates, both disarming and deadly—his easy charm capable of winning over enemies, while his legendary fury dominates the battlefield. But his unbreakable facade begins to crack when he meets a psychologist during a mission—someone who can see through his carefully crafted mask, just as he can see through hers. Beneath her confident exterior lies a frightened soul lost in a dark world, and for the first time, he finds himself compelled to protect someone in a way he never expected.
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Yeosang
‣ The Phantom [Coming soon]
Mysterious and elusive, the Black Pirates' intelligence expert is known for his sharp instincts and unparalleled skill in espionage and reconnaissance. But when he crosses paths with a woman who surpasses him in both skill and wit for the first time, his confidence begins to waver. As she outsmarts him at every turn, he finds himself unexpectedly drawn to her, eagerly anticipating each challenge—because the thrill of being near her is something he never expected to crave.
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San
‣ The Tempest [Coming soon]
The Black Pirates' most unpredictable force is a whirlwind of fiery passion and unbridled energy—always the first to leap into action when chaos erupts. But his world tilts when he stumbles upon a woman who, unlike his victims who always begged to live, is on the brink of ending her own life. Upon discovering she's terminally ill, he finds himself gripped by an unfamiliar and urgent desire to save her, igniting a battle within himself unlike anything he's ever faced.
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Mingi
‣ The Firestarter [Coming soon]
The Black Pirates' wild card is notorious for his fiery temper and even more explosive schemes—a dangerous yet irresistibly charming presence. But his confidence takes a hit when one of his near-disastrous plans is salvaged by an unlikely passerby: a composed and resourceful former aristocrat, exiled and stripped of her wealth, now navigating the world's harsh realities. Her icy demeanour and unshakable poise captivate him, leaving the ever-impulsive man unexpectedly drawn to her.
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Wooyoung
‣ The Charmer [Coming soon]
The Black Pirates' negotiator and master of distractions is renowned for his confidence and flirtatious charm, which can sway almost anyone. But his ego is severely wounded when he encounters the loyal bodyguard of a high-profile target, someone completely immune to his usual tricks, during a high-stakes mission. Frustrated by his failure yet captivated by her unwavering resolve, he finds himself unable to stay away, drawn to the challenge—and to her—in ways he never expected.
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Jongho
‣ The Anchor [Coming soon]
The steadfast foundation of the Black Pirates is renowned for his unfaltering strength and calm under pressure. As the gang's moral compass and protector, he's always put duty above all else. But when a rival gang's attack threatens the life of their kind-hearted hired doctor, he begins to realise that his priorities extend beyond just his brothers. Torn between his loyalty to the gang and his growing feelings for her, he faces an agonising choice: protect his family or save her.
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Voila, my loves! As promised, I finally managed to come up with a little something for this comeback teehee. I hope you're as excited about this as I am! Truthfully, I just returned from a 10-day trip in Shanghai and am back to work on Monday already - which means I might not be able to write much until the following weekend but I will do my best to get the parts out ASAP!
Super excited to hear your thoughts on the concept! Do let me know which member's summary enticed you the most!✨ and of course, just leave a comment if you'd like to be tagged for when the parts are released!
General ATEEZ Tag list:
@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01
@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho
@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline
@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1
@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha
@haven-cove @idfkeddieishot @vic0921 @vnessalau @apriecotte
@bangtannie7 @vtyb23 @khjoongie98 @scuzmunkie @anxiousskylar
@bunny4yungi @zl-world @bethelighthalazia @tsunchani
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DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF THE WORK HERE.
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vampiresbloodx · 2 days ago
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Arcane imagine.
arcane characters react to you confessing your feelings to them.
characters included: Mel medarda, Caitlyn, vi, jinx, sevika
warnings: mutual pinning, yearning, fluff, slight angst, happy ending, implied smut, flirting, kissing, yeah .
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Mel medarda;
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You've been crushing on Mel for the longest time, you don't even know when it started, as you two have known each other for a while now, you both were kinda friends, you were never really sure, but you always felt so close to her
She had felt the same, she liked sticking by your side, hearing about your day, your projects, what you are thinking, anything, she loved listening to you talk
It was the one thing that made her day better, and seeing your face of course
It happened so suddenly, these feelings you'd never expect just came to you, Mel was just there, and you fell in love
Not that anyone could blame you, really, she's a goddess
you always wondered why on earth she'd spend time with you, someone so beautiful, so perfect, that you can't help but always admire, no matter the time and place
When you're anxious, you think of Mel, she makes everything better
When you're alone, you think of Mel
When you're with mel, you think of her
When you spot a pretty flower, you think of Mel
One time, you unintentionally picked a couple of flowers, making them look all pretty as you practically skipped your way to where Mel would be. But she wasn't alone, jayce was there, another boy she was working with
You thought they looked close, and you started to back away from them, your heart sinking, you felt your throat get tight, god, you felt so stupid, of course she would like a man like jayce, why would she ever like you? You were always just going to be her friend
Later that same day, it had turned to night, you spent the rest of the day in bed, ignoring everything and everyone, you were hurt, confused, annoyed with yourself
You just wanted it all to go away
When you heard a knock at your door, and your eyes widened, you looked up, you were about to tell them to go away, whoever it was, that's when you heard a familiar voice
"hey, it's me."
It was Mel's.
You wanted so badly to ignore her, for her to just walk away, but you knew she wasn't going to do that, you closed your eyes and signed, eventually getting up as you walked towards the door and opened it for her
"what do you want? I'm trying to sleep..." You said, hating how you sounded speaking to her. You watched the way Mel frowned, how she looked so worried, her hand reached out and you flinched, she didn't show how much that saddend her.
"you didn't join me for dinner, I was worried. I had came to check on you, oh! I should tell you on what Jayce and I have been up to so far-"
You shook your head, turning away as your back faced her, "I don't wanna hear about him."
That was all Mel needed to hear.
She smiled, stepping closer to you as she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in, you tried to protect but nothing came out and she wasn't letting you go anyways
There was no point
"tell me what's wrong, I know what you're like when you try and push others away, don't do that to me, please" she murmured, her voice soft and calming in your ears as you stared at the ground
you felt your eyes water
"I like you, Mel" you sniffled, you were ready for her to leave, for your friendship to be over. "I've always liked you Mel, more than how friends should like one another, I just I was so scared. But then I saw you with Jayce, and I got jealous, I grew distant, because I couldn't face you, I couldn't look at you in the eyes the same, knowing that he can be better for you than I could ever be."
For a moment, you didn't hear anything, you still heard her breathing from behind you as your heart thumped loudly in your chest.
Then she forced you to turn around and look into her eyes as her hand grabbed your chin, "you mean more to me than anyone could ever be, Why would you think such things?, you're more than my friend, you're my love, my laughter, my everything, this is all I ever wanted to hear from you" Mel said, she smiled so brightly, she looked gorgeous, you wanted to kiss her
You caressed her cheek with her hand, "can... Can I?" You were hesitant to ask, she chuckled, crashing her lips against yours, you melted into the kiss, wanting to stay here forever and ever, she tasted like strawberries and honey, you never wanted to get rid of that taste
Caitlyn;
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Caitlyn knew there was something off about you the moment you stopped talking to her as much like you usually would
She found it strange, so unlike you, she looked forward to seeing you whenever she could and hear your voice
But as of lately, she's been alone and missing a certain someone, you
She's been talking to Jayce and wondering what to do and how she can help you if there is anything going on, she'd want to help, she was your friend, your best friend even
So it hurt her when you suddenly stopped hanging out with her
She couldn't stop thinking about you, if she had done anything to cause this, she was freaking herself out
She had even gone to Viktor and ask for his advice, he was sort of helpful, but it wasn't like he was cupid and had the best advice for crushing on your friend
Caitlyn missed you, a lot
She went to your place to find you, surprisingly, you weren't there, she looked at the library, she didn't see you, eventually, she did find you, sitting outside by a tree, you looked so pretty, she couldn't help but admire, she ran up to you, excited, she needed to be around you again
"Cait?..." You said, looking surprised, she wasn't sure why you would be, she didn't say anything and just hugged you tightly
You hugged her back
"where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you, you had me worried" Caitlyn's words came out rushed, you smiled at her.
"can you sit with me?" You asked.
She happily did.
"what's going on? Did something happen?-"
"Cait, let me speak."
You had cut her off before she could even finish asking more, she immediately shut up, she knew you needed to take your time to gather your words, she wanted to touch you again, but she restrained herself
"there's been a lot on my mind, that's why I haven't seen you, but I need to tell you something" you said, she can see the way you were fidgeting with your fingers, a thing you do when you're nervous, then you just randomly stood up, pacing back and forth.
"whatever you have to tell me won't be that bad-" Caitlyn tried to reassure, still you didn't listen
"I like you" you shouted at her, she blinked.
"you what?" She muttered, still processing your words
"I know this was a bad idea to tell you how I really felt, but I had to, I couldn't not tell you, I really fucking like you, Caitlyn" you said, it almost looked like you were on the verge of tears
Caitlyn stood up, you stared up at her expecting the worst, but then she cupped your face and kissed you
That alone told you enough of what she really meant, as you kissed her back, smiling
Vi;
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You have always liked Vi for as long as you've known her, that wasn't anything new, anyone who's ever met you knows about your crush on her, except for one person, Vi
She's always claimed not to be an oblivious person, but people who know her also know that's obvious to see from a mile away
Vi has always been a good friend to you, more than anyone has ever been
Ekko, one of your other friends, has been telling you to confess your crush to Vi for years, yeah, it's not something that's new, you two have known each other for ages, Ekko has been through it all witnessing it, and he just wants you to tell her already
"Ekko, I don't know. I don't wanna ruin what I have with her" you muttered, the two of you were hanging out one night, catching up over snacks and games, you hear him chuckle
"you won't, trust me. I wouldn't be telling you to do this if I wasn't sure."
He was right about that. You've always trusted Ekko no matter what it is, he's always had a good heart
and almost most of the time he was always right
Just maybe things will go okay, if you told Vi how you really feel, she won't stop being your friend, but the fact that everyone else can see your crush on her except for her you just weren't sure
Even when you think you know her, you still can't wrap your head around her
You had planned to tell her this Friday night, where you know she'd always meet at your hangout spot, you wanted to make it look pretty, make it feel special, also it was an excuse to distract yourself from what tonight was actually for
Ekko had helped picked out the music, Vi has always liked metal and punk rock, you were sure in another lifetime she would be in a band
you had gotten the snacks, her favorites and yours, including the drinks and the gift you wanted to give her, you've set up a blanket and pillows down for you both
Your heart felt like it was beating so hard it could rip out of your chest any minute
You checked the time and your eyes widened, she was going to be here any second, fuck
You tried to stop pacing around, before you knew it she had arrived right on time, she greeted you with a smile and immediately hugged you, your cheeks warmed as you hugged her back, god you missed her so much
"what's the special occasion?" She asks with a raised eyebrow, biting her cherry as she laid down onto the blankets. "Everything looks so nice, and you got me my favorites? You spoil me."
You smiled, sitting down with her as you contemplated even telling her how you really felt, with how pretty she looks right now, you so badly wanted to kiss her
"I may have something" you said, finally able to get your words together. "Actually yes, I need to tell you something, vi" you hated how you were stuttering, you bit down on your bottom lip as you avoided her gaze.
"what's up, angel?" She said with a grin, she's always called you that, it's been her personal nickname made for you, it's always made you flustered
"Vi, I like... " You paused, trying to actually look into her eyes without looking away, "I like you."
Vi smiled, she looked like she didn't get it at first
"I like you to, angel" she chuckled.
You shake your head.
"no, vi, I actually like like you, I wanna be your girlfriend."
God you couldn't believe you actually told her
you waited for her to reject you, to just stand up and leave, but she didn't do any of that, instead Vi pulled you in closer, pressing her lips to yours as she kissed you hard, you gasped into her mouth, processing whats happening, that she's kissing you, her lips feel so soft against your own, your hand reached up to cup her face
She pulled away, letting you two have a moment to catch your breath as you felt ecstatic, "vi..."
"I've always liked you too, I'm glad you told me. I was actually planning on telling you myself, I didn't know when but you bet me to it, I'm glad you did, because this was the best, it was perfect."
You smiled, leaning in as your nose brushed against hers, she grabbed you by the shirt, making you fall into her as the night was not over just yet
Jinx;
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Jinx had always been by your side for as long as you've known her, you have always been by hers, and she's always been by yours, that's just how you two were, when you met, it was an instant click, it was rare for jinx to experience that, so she kept you by for as long as she can
She loves everything about you, your entire personality, how no matter what you always make her day better, you were different, you meant a lot to her
She meant a lot to you as well
More than she'd ever know
Despite all that was happening, what you two have been through, you have always defended her, even when you didn't have to
She appreciates that, even if she doesn't tell you herself
It's like you somehow knew
She needed you, when Vi left, she needed you the most
You were one of the very few that stuck around, and you weren't going anywhere anytime soon
Jinx notices something was up when you weren't showing up to her place like you'd usually be, you were always around, as of late, she didn't see much of you
She wondered why
Did she do something wrong? Are you finally realizing you're better off without her?
No, she couldn't think like that
She was able to easily find you again, you were standing by yourself on an edge, she was concerned, extremely worried, she was so happy to see you again, but she knew she shouldn't rush you
"hey" you said, she didn't even say anything yet you knew she was here
"hi" she smiled, "what are you doing out here? It's cold" she starts to take off her jacket, she always gave you something to wear even if you don't need it right then
You let her put it on
You've always looked so pretty in her clothes
"you know, you'd be a good model, definitely have the body for it" she chuckles with a grin, unable to keep her eyes off you. She saw the way you looked down, how you smiled, she felt proud of that, a little bit cocky too. "You okay? You wanna tell me what's up? You've been avoiding me. You know how I am when people try to ignore me" she couldn't help but pout.
You turn to face her, finally looking at her, she smiles at the sight of you. "I know, I'm sorry about that, a lot has been on my mind. Jinx, there's something I have to tell you, I can't hide it anymore."
She frowned, unsure of what you meant, were you planning on leaving her? Moving away forever? Was she not going to be able to see you ever again? So many thoughts clouded her
But what you told her was nothing she was expecting
"I like you, Jinx, for so long, I've liked you, and no, not in the platonic way, yes, that too, I mean you've meant something more to me for a long time" you said, staring into her gaze as her mouth hangs open, you what?
She rushes to you, wrapping her arms around you tightly as she feels like she could almost cry, good tears this time, her heart was beating so fast she laughed loudly
"why didn't you tell me sooner?" She grinned, cupping your face with both of her hands like you were her entire world, you are, you've always been. "I've liked you since forever, idiot, jeez, finally one of us came clean about it. I was gonna make a dramatic reveal to you but this was so you. I like it. I really like you too. A lot. Please be mine."
And you happily did, you kissed her, that night was the best night of your lives.
Sevika;
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Sevika wasn't an easy woman to read, some people have found it hard to even get under her skin, find out what makes her tick, what makes her squirm, loose balance
But you'd be a fool to test her
Then again, you were always known to be a foolish one
When people see you two together, they can't see it, you were brighter, much bubbly, always smiling then there was Sevika, scary, intimating, will kill you with one look
You two were total opposites, no one could understand how you worked so well together
But you just made it work
You were the book smart to Sevika's street smart, which is why silco partnered you with his most trusted a lot, she couldn't exactly argue with it at first, she still did, complaining about having to babysit you, despite the fact that she wasn't that much older than you anyways
Okay, maybe by a few years older, but you didn't need a god damn babysitter
She knew how to piss you off, and you knew how to annoy her as well
It went back and forth, at first, you two fought a lot,there were a lot of misunderstandings, people were even nervous to get in between you both, you two were just so loud about everything that only silco can shut you both up
Eventually, after a while, a long while, things started to settle, and Sevika understood why silco picked you
She knew he wouldn't pick any random person, he had his reasons
Then something weird started to happen, she grew more protective over you, sure, she knew she was already protective of those she cared most, but you, she wasn't sure about, it just happened all of a sudden, if anyone was bothering you, hell, if anyone tried to hurt you, hell would be unleashed
Jinx would always mock her of how much she protects you and will do anything for you, Sevika tries to fight it, her stubbornness winning, but as soon as she sees you, her walls are being cut down, forced to let you see her, as she watches you from afar, admiring your work and talents, how much dedication and time you put into things, she's actually impressed by you
The first time she ever complimented you had you feeling all giddy for weeks, months even, you wanted nothing more than to be praised by her again
Jinx was over it
How much you talked about her, how pretty she is, she'd literally gagged at how love sick you were about her, she was so tempted to shove you both in a closet to hurry the hell up and get it over with
But she knew sevika would kill her
Then again, she's reached a point where she couldn't care less
When Jinx was able to get you two alone together to finally actually talk things out, she did, she was gonna make it work, even if she had to be dramatic and pull a little strings
She would live with the fact that Sevika was gonna be pissed at her for a long time, possibly forever if this goes terribly wrong, but she doubts it would
It was a late Saturday night, everyone was still awake and hanging around, Sevika was sitting at the bar, right where Jinx told her where to meet, Jinx watched as you finally showed up, looking all nice as she grinned, walking away from it, letting it all play out
"Sevika?" You muttered, confused to see her there
But fuck did she look good
She frowned at the sight of you, about to say something, but her words fell flat at what you were wearing, you looked beautiful
Like really fucking gorgeous
"you look... Nice."
Your cheeks warmed at that, hearing her compliment you as you looked away from her gaze that was too intense for you
"yeah, I was told you'd be here... Jinx told me you wanted to speak to me about something important."
Then it clicked to her.
"fuckin' jinx" she groaned, shoving her glass away. "She set us up."
"what?" You said, dumbfounded, going to sit next to her.
There was a pause, you stared in the distance, distracted, she stared at you more, admiring your features, how pretty you looked in that dress
She's never seen you wear something so formal
It suited you
She bit down on her bottom lip, all of a sudden feeling nervous to speak
"how do you feel about us?" You asked, still not looking at her, she frowned
"us?" She repeated.
You nodded, turning your head to look at her in the eyes
"yeah, me and you. We're a good team, you make a good partner" you say. She felt her heart skip a beat, what the fuck was happening? Why were you being so nice to her?
"what is it" she muttered, "just tell me what you want."
"huh?" You looked confused.
"fuckin' hell" she groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Tell me."
"I like you" you spat out before you could even think.
She raised an eyebrow at you.
"say that again?."
"sevika" you sighed, she liked the way her name sounded coming from your lips, she wanted to hear it again. "This is already awkward as fuck, I like you, okay, fuck, I never hated you, well, maybe at some point I disliked you, at the start, but even then, you're a goddess, fucking look at you, your stunning, anyone would fall for that."
That took her off guard, definitely not what she was expecting
"if you want to cuss me out and stop being partners I'll accept I-"
She shut you up with her lips, pressing herself into you as you almost fell off your stool. She grabbed onto you as you held on tight, kissing her hard, as you moaned into her mouth.
After a while, she didn't want to stop kissing you, neither did you want to stop, you both broke away breathless, pressing your foreheads against each others
"come to mine?" She says with a smile
It's not often you see Sevika smile
"lead the way."
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softpascalito · 2 days ago
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Dulcissima I Marcus Acacius x Vestal!Reader I Chapter II
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! This Fic contains major spoilers for Gladiator II ! Proceed with caution !
Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Vestal Virgin Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 1.8k+ Tags: Secret Relationship, Vestal Virgins, Religious Guilt, Gladiator fights, Gladiator II compliant (more or less), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Ancient Rome, Age Difference, Slow Burn (ish), More tags to be added (!)
AO3 // Series Masterlist // Masterlist // Fic Playlist
notes: ! last major spoiler warning for gladiator II below the cut !
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thank you all so much for the love on the first chapter. we delve a little bit into their backstory now (gladiator II is set around 211 AD). feel free to let me know if you are interested in reading how these two get to where we picked up before <3 i also have a little acacius playlist that fits the vibe of this fic very well. feel free to check it out here!
vestal (vigins) - priestesses of vesta, virgin goddess of Rome's sacred flame (details will be explained later in the story) dulcissima - sweetest (fond nickname) domus - a roman house palla - a traditional mantle for women paludamentum - a cloak worn by high ranking military officials
Chapter II
209 AD
The domus sits just on the edge of Palatine Hill, on the side opening towards the Forum Romanum and Via Nova. You have passed below it more times than you can count, though you have rarely walked the small street that weaves up the hill and leads to the edge of the property.
Many of the neighboring houses are too harsh for your taste, with columns twice as wide as your body and barely a shrub of greenery in front of them. A supposed sign of strength, no doubt. But when passing the house with the large garden, you like to take as much time as you dare, occasionally catching a whiff of the lavender that grows all around it.
It reminds you of the shadowy figure you often saw walking those same gardens after dark, many years past. A bereaved woman, shrouded in dark cloth, keeping her head down as she tended to the plants with dainty fingers, decorated with a thick gold ring that framed a green stone. You remember lingering too long on your way past the iron fence once, fascinated by the way her dress flowed in the wind. She had called out to you, beckoning you towards her.
Lucilla was not a terrifying woman but you knew that every misstep could cost you, especially in your position as a vestal. She had knelt down in front of your trembling form, brushed your hair out of your face and looked at you with an expression you did not understand. But she had whispered words that you did. Asked you not to collect the water after dark, to stay with the older vestals. Then she had offered you a small bundle of lavender.
You stuffed it under the linen of your bed later that night, breathing in a scent that felt like a world where a woman could freely roam her garden and the city beyond, who did not have to be afraid.
The guard at the gate gives a small bow of courtesy when you reach him and moves to the side, allowing you to tread the stone path that leads up to the house. “The General is inside. Please, knock.”
A gentle “Thank you” escapes your lips as you reach to lift your stola just enough to not step on it. The torches lining the way are extinguished, not needed during the day. A short glance down the hill allows you to spot your own home, right beside the rounded building that is the Temple of Vesta.
When you reach the wooden door, you raise your hand and will yourself to knock with enough force to make it heard.
You can hear someone calling out from inside and a few seconds later, a man with broad shoulders opens the door. His gaze flies over you briefly–taking in your white tunic and the palla wrapped around your shoulders. The thin veil attached to your headdress and all the linen of your clothes tucked neatly into place are usually enough indication for whoever is stood in front of you to understand your status.
“General Acacius?” You ask softly, your eyes taking in his brown eyes and the curve of his nose, one that looks like it belongs on a statue rather than a living man.
“Vero, that is me. Please, come inside.” He gives a small bow, gesturing past himself and you nod at the invitation, gracefully stepping into the house and finding yourself in an atrium that renders you speechless. The columns that line its sides are slightly worn, flowers stretching along them towards the upper floor. Stone basins and pots holding a variety of plants stand at almost every corner of the open space, making it feel more like a garden than the stuck-up room you would have expected in a Generals home.
Acacius’s hand hovers behind you, guiding you past the fountain that holds a few orange fish and to the opposite end of the open room, though he never actually touches you. “Please. Have a seat.”
“Thank you,” you repeat your earlier words, lowering yourself onto the chair he indicated.
“Would you like some wine? Perhaps some grapes too?” He waves to one of the servants, who promptly places two glasses on the table, though Acacius takes the carafe and dismisses him with a small nod as he begins to pour you some of the dark red liquid. You make to reach for your glass to hold it steady but he shakes his head quickly. “Allow me. Please.”
You nod at that, leaning back and waiting politely while he pours himself a drink as well. It allows you a moment to take in his form up close, the white tunic and his red paludamentum wrapped around his body. A cloak fastened with a gold brooch, one that–similar to your headwear–makes him a respected man no matter where he goes. You wonder if he feels the same about it, that some days it's more like a heavy curse weighing one down. Then again, he is a General of Rome. You are a priestess of Vesta. Your paths may cross today but you are certain they look very different from one another.
He sits down across from you, a small sigh leaving his lips as he toasts in your direction and takes a sip of his wine. Then, he leans to the side and produces two rolls of parchment. “I had to make some adjustments to my will. It was kept by one of your sisters, but I believe she has finished her service with the Vestals since I last saw her.”
You give him a small smile as you take the parchment from him, nodding. “Yes, she left the year before last. But of course I will be just as happy to keep the will for you.”
His eyes fly over your face briefly and he gestures to the rolls on your lap. “I crossed out the old version. I married, you see.”
You stare at him for a moment before nodding a little too quickly. “Of course. Yes, I–The lady of this house I presume–” You break off, realizing your mistake. If he indeed married Lucilla, he is now the head of this house. “What I meant–” you add hastily. “–is that it is your house now. And the house is beautiful, I mean–” It’s the second time you stop in the middle of the sentence. But this time, it is because you have dared to look back over at the General. And he is not even trying to conceal his amusement.
You bow your head in another silent apology and he tuts softly. “You are quite right, you know. As far as I am concerned, she is the woman of this house.” A smile plays around his lips. “And I would not have it any other way.”
It’s clearly not his atrium that surprises you. He is not what you would expect a General to be. Especially not one that is about to entrust you with his will. “I give my word that I will see it is stored safely,” you reassure him, carefully taking another small sip of the wine.
Acacius nods. “I appreciate that. You have my thanks.” He pauses briefly, his gaze darting around the atrium for a split second before landing back on you. “You seem uneasy. Do I make you uncomfortable?”
“No. No, of course not, General.” It is not a lie, per se. But you are all too aware that it sounds like one.
“Is it your first time taking a will?”
You do not know how he does it. He seems to have read you so easily–or he is just very well connected to know such a thing. “Yes. It is, but I promise–”
“I trust you,” he states almost casually while reaching for the grapes and offering you some as well. You politely decline.
“Forgive me but … you met me mere moments ago. How can you know I am trustworthy?” Your eyes catch his and this time you hold his gaze, not missing the small glint in them.
“All of Rome trusts the Vestals. If not you, who would we put our faith into?”
“The gods. You should put your faith in the gods,” you say quietly.
“I prefer to put my faith in people,” Acacius responds, though his voice is slightly lowered as well. “The gods do not fight our wars.”
You stand up so abruptly that you almost drop the scrolls. “I should go.”
He seems perplexed for a moment but quickly catches himself and nods, standing up before leading you back the same way you came. You allow yourself a quick sideward glance at his face and are met with a professionally neutral expression. At the door, you turn towards him, giving a last, small bow. “My General.” His title falls off your lips like the silk they sell at the market, flowing effortlessly. His brown eyes lingering on you as you address him–even if normal custom–as yours, make your stomach clench slightly.
Acacius lets his hand hover beside you again, never quite touching you. Yet you almost seem to be able to feel his touch. “I did not mean offense.” His voice is much softer than it was when he greeted you.
“Of course.” You force yourself to smile and step away, shaking your head at the brief moment of confusion you allowed yourself. He is a General, you are a Vestal. He has sworn his vows and you have sworn yours. And both include promises that are enough to keep you at a few feets distance for several lifetimes. “Please, call for me if you ever need to make adjustments to the will. And–” You force yourself to smile a little wider. “Congratulations on your marriage.”
You turn around before he can speak again, suddenly wanting to put some distance between yourself and the house you so longed to see from inside–until you did.
***
211 AD
“You have to go, dulcissima.”
Acacius' voice is quiet, the back of his head resting against the stone pillar as he watches you drag the chaise lounge across the atrium, muttering under your breath when you have to maneuver it around the small fountain in the middle of the space.
“Please.”
You shake your head just as you reach him, gesturing for him to sit down. His begging breaks your heart–it always has. But the thought of leaving him here with open wounds is worse.
“Let me see your arm.” He doesn't move, forcing you to become a bit more stern. “Acacius. Let me see the arm. I am not leaving until you do.”
A curse slips out under his breath but he does as told, sitting down and allowing you to inspect his wound. The rustle of the chain on his ankle breaks the quiet as he moves and you pointedly ignore it as you crouch down in front of him.
You let your hand hover above his skin for a moment, taking a small breath. It is still difficult to break the rules you have been taught for so long sometimes. You tell yourself that this is not even a sin, that you are merely caring for a wounded Gladiator. It tricks your brain enough to lower your hand onto his skin. You do not believe it tricks Vesta.
“He should not have fought you,” you mumble quietly, thinking back to how Lucius was swinging away the moment he entered the arena.
“He did not understand. And it is how the Colosseum works, you know this.” Acacius mutters back, tensing slightly when you run your finger over the cut the sword left on his arm. It doesn't seem too deep but you know Acacius must be in much more pain than he lets on.
“I hate that place,” you whisper, surprising yourself with the force of your words. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes and you stiffen when you feel a calloused hand tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before brushing over your cheek.
“Oh, sweet,” he mutters, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. “I am fine. I made it out, see? I promised I would.”
“They were going to shoot you,” you choke out, trying and failing to hold back the tears now slipping down your cheeks. You feel his lips touch the crown of your head briefly.
“But they didn't. Now, please, I will take care of this. But you have to leave.”
You wipe your tears with the back of your hand and shake your head again, blinking a few times to clear your vision and shift your attention back to his wound. “How would you take care of this? They have sentenced you to death. The Emperors have called for it, in front of the whole empire.”
“I can talk to them. I have things to offer, even now. They do not know how to lead an army. But they need someone who does. And–”
“You would sell your soul to stay alive,” you whisper as you reach for a piece of cloth and begin to wipe down the crusted blood.
Acacius sighs. “No. But I would sell my soul to stay with you.”
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mostly-marvel-musings · 2 days ago
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Hi, I am slipping into your Kinktober requests again, if that's okay with you! I'd love to request something for Hugh Jackman this time, as I keep seeing more and more of him, and I'm happy to drool over that fantastic man with your stories! 👀
Kissing down every inch of your body they possibly can, showing how much they love you. + "Don't be shy baby, I love the way you moan my name.
I'm preparing to melt into a permanent puddle of goo here as I'm happily waiting to see what you'll come up with here. Again, thank you for everything you share with us, and I'm looking forward to reading it all! 🤍
Kiss away your insecurities
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A/N: Thank you for requesting this, my darling! Hope you like it :) Special thanks to @stark-ironman for helping me with this idea 💛
Pairing: Hugh Jackman x F! Reader
Warnings: 18+ smut themes, angst, floof. Body image issues, self-doubt and negative talk.
.
You were still out of breath.
Heart pounding wildly against your ribcage thanks to the activities you and your boyfriend were up to ever since he got home. Even though the shared sounds of passion had died down, they were now replaced with your louder insecurities, forcing you to curl away from the man and head to the bathroom to clean up.
Hugh frowned as the door slammed shut with a little more force than usual. Concerned, he knocked on it asking if you were okay.
“Uh, yeah. Fine.” You responded, blinking back tears that began rapidly gathering. Your inner thoughts screamed you didn’t deserve all of this.
“Mind if I join you for a quick shower, darling?” Hugh called again after hearing the water running. Something you had a habit of doing every time you were overwhelmed with emotions.
“Actually I’m going to be right out. You know I have the—the thing early morning.”
Cursing yourself to have to lie, you scrubbed your body forcefully, glad the tears streamed down with the hot water and your shaky voice was somewhat covered.
As you stepped out of the bathroom, you were met with a concerned Hugh, arms crossed over his chest.
“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”
“No! Why would you think that?” You faked a laugh, going around him to get dressed for bed. Knowing fully well you weren’t fooling your boyfriend.
“Because you’re avoiding me.”
Giving him your most reassuring smile that you could muster, you shook your head as you slipped into one of his well worn t-shirts, getting onto your side of the bed.
“No it’s just, I have to wake up early tomorrow and I wanted to get a quick shower in. I’m fine. Really.”
He was silent for a while as he joined you in bed, watching you fluff the pillows before you turned away from the man to switch off the bedside lamp.
“You can tell that to someone who believes your lies, darling. Tell me what’s wrong. Please?” He tried again, switching the lamp back on and reaching out for your hand.
“Would you just drop it, Hugh?” You snapped, hating yourself for it as you turned the lights out again, pulling the blanket over and hiding yourself in its fluffy depths, hoping it would somehow cover your imperfections.
Your mind was still flooded with all sorts of thoughts about the way you looked, and how any day your little daydream would end and Hugh would realise what a mistake dating you was.
What was he even with you? You were far from perfect. You had curves that no matter what you did wouldn’t go away. You got trapped in your own head quite a bit, you were moody, and ten thousand other things that would push you away from the ‘ideal girlfriend’ title.
You lived in constant fear that he’d wake up one day and decide he was done with you. Then what would you ever do?
.
The next morning you woke up before Hugh did and went for a run, hoping it would clear your head.
It worked until you got a few heads turning in your direction, it wasn’t uncommon considering who you were dating; it was still overwhelming sometimes. You heard giggles and judgemental scoffs, possibly they were commenting on the way you looked.
It made you want to disappear. A sense of your deepest fears winning made you rush home, discard your jacket and ready to retreat into your room for the rest of the day. That was until your eyes fell on the breakfast spread that lay waiting on the table to your right.
“Morning sunshine! I thought I’d whip up your favourite breakfast today since you—hey, what’s wrong?”
You didn’t realise you had teared up again until Hugh rushed to your side with worry.
“Why are you with me?”
“What do you mean?” He frowned.
“I mean why are you with me? I don’t deserve any of this. You could be with anyone you want, I don’t understand why—”
He stepped in your line of vision, silencing your little ramble before gently wiping your tears away and leading you to sit on an armchair.
Wordlessly holding your hand against his chest, he took a deep breath in, gently coaxing you to follow. When you did, you could feel your erratic breaths returning to a normal slowly but surely. Just his presence on difficult days like these was calming.
“Talk to me?” he nudged, hands still clasped reassuringly.
“I just feel like you could do so much better than this…than me. You’re so—I mean, I am—”
Struggling to complete the sentence, you couldn’t help the crack in your voice as you avoided his gaze, shifting nervously on the chair.
“Beautiful? Kind? The best thing to have happened to me?” Hugh tilted your face to meet your eyes again, his own shining with all the love and adoration reserved just for you.
You wanted to believe him, so badly, yet the voices in your head got loud enough to make you doubt every single thing.
“I won’t allow you to talk much less think such lies about my amazing girlfriend, you know. She’s lucky her boyfriend immensely enjoys demonstrating just how much she means to him.”
You smiled at that, much to Hugh's relief, shaking your head.
"If you'll allow me to show you, my love."
With that he picked you up, leaving no room for any further protests from your side. Kicking the bedroom door shut with his foot, his lips descending onto yours in a kiss that effectively quieted down your fears and filled you with a renewed sense of assurance.
As the kiss deepened, your anxieties melted away, giving way for all the love that you held for this man, who by a miracle from the universe, was all yours. When you eventually broke the kiss after what felt like hours, he continued demonstrating all that he'd promised, making sure to whisper words that held such honesty, you wholeheartedly believed them.
This was nothing like you'd ever experienced before. This was more than just sex, it was worshiping, cherishing and much more. He held you close, accepting every curve, every scar, every last freckle as his own, showering you with all his love. You hadn't felt so loved, so respected, so seen, ever before in your life.
When you were filled to the hilt with his manhood, a moan that you trying so hard to suppress, escaped. Quickly covered your mouth with a hand, you quieted down, embarrassed.
"Don't be shy baby, I love the way you moan my name."
"I'm afraid I'm too loud." you whispered.
Hugh tutted, interlacing your fingers and firmly locking your hands over your head, securing them in their rightful place as he began moving in your sopping heat.
"Not loud enough. Let 'em hear. Let 'em hear who's making you feel good, sweetheart."
Hot and breathy against your ear, his honeyed voice was enough to turn your insides to mush, encouraging you to not hold back anymore.
Soon, the walls of the house echoed with your shared sounds of passion, the intensity of them evident as you reached your highs together. Bodies trembling with wanton need as you drew the most sinful moans out of each other, fully alive in the moment.
As your climax crashed over you, it seemed to wash away any lingering negativity and uncertainty you had previously felt, making you sure of your dreams being actualized.
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star-eyed-angels · 13 hours ago
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The Masked Ballerina
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Mafia!Yunho x ballerina!reader
angst, light fluff 6k
TW: mentions of fighting, abuse, violence, swearing, weapons. As usual, please let me know if I missed something.
Please read at your own discretion.
Where Yunho's search for excitement leads him to the Ballet.
AN: Heavily inspired by the Ice On My Teeth MV. In my mind this exists in the same universe as my Mafia!Hongjoong fic. The chess lore goes hard in this one. Enjoy lovelies 🤍
Also in case anyone cares, the song reader dances to is Masquerade Suite: Maskarad at about 1:18 is when Yunho starts tapping and 1:23 is when he sees their face
MASTERLIST
It’s very rare that Yunho goes out alone. Normally he travels with his guards, a new rule put in place after the Wooyoung incident. He understands its another layer of protection in case someone decides to get a little too close. especially if one of their enemies decides to put a hit out on him. Which of course has happened more times than he can count, but his guards don’t let anyone get within talking distance. It's always kind of fun to him. Watching some dumb soldier try to charge at him. Part of Yunho wishes his guards would just let them through. That way he could have a little fun. Just the thought makes his hands twitch. God is he aching for a good fight. But he knows that would never happen. They would never allow it. It’s their sole duty to protect him. One of their eight bosses who are far too precious to lose. 
Yunho sighs at the thought. His breath coming out in front of him in the cold night air. He knows it's silly to want to get into a bit of trouble. With the power he holds he should be excited at the people who bow before him. But he can't help but want something more. A change of pace. Like tonight and his new habit of sneaking out once he knows the others are busy or sleeping. It started on a whim, his restlessness driving him over the edge. It was normally pretty bad, but this night he swore if he didn’t do something he would go insane. He found himself creeping down the hallway, waiting for just the right moment when he knew the guards would step away before making a dash to the street. He spent the next few hours wandering the city. The solitude was refreshing, not having anyone hovering over him. While it gave him a little rush the first few weeks , the thrill has already started to fade. His little nights out becoming something too close to a routine. 
He’s done his best to spice it up a bit, trying to find different routes. But with legs as long as his, there’s only so much he can do before he’s seen it all. The more he dwells on it, the worse he starts to feel. He tugs the hood of his sweater farther over his head, huffing in annoyance. With his mood slowly souring, he thinks it’s best to run back home. He finds himself turning towards the dark alley. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that he gravitates towards the shadows. He’s always been his skill, hiding in the shadows until he strikes. Of course nowadays he’s more of a boss, giving people his orders. And while it’s nice, can anyone really blame him for missing the action? I mean he’d even be happy to even do a simple hit. Give him a rookie task, hell he’ll take anything at this point. He realizes he sounds a bit like an addict. But God would it kill to have just a bit of excitement in his life? 
He turns to walk into the alley. He's so distracted he doesn't pay attention to the figure hiding in the shadows. 
“Hold it.” a voice calls out.
He’s pinned swiftly against a wall. A small breath knocked out of him, as he stumbles into it.
Yunho looks down to see a gun pointed at his chest. He’s so caught off guard it takes him a second to register what he’s looking at. His eyes trail up the arm holding the gun, finding a masked figure in front of him. At Least a head shorter than him and clearly in way over their head. 
He looks up at the sky, a baffled smile finding its way onto his face.
This isn’t what I meant.
If Yunho didn’t know any better he’d think he’s in a comedy movie. One where he’s the bud of all the jokes. 
“I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you,”
Ah yes the tiny thief. 
Yunho looks back down, the person digging the gun into his chest. He only blinks in response.
“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” they snap, “Just give me your money and no one has to get hurt.”
Yunho grabs the hand holding the gun, nudging it out of the way. 
“I don’t have any money. Now if you’ll excuse me-” he starts to say, but is swiftly cut off.
“What? Are you stupid, I said-”
Yunho rolls his eyes, any other night he’d probably entertain the idea of a brawl. But tonight he’s tired and just wants to be back home. This person clearly either doesn’t know what they’re getting themselves into. He supposes it’s the plain clothes he chose to wear out that make him somewhat unrecognizable. That and the fact that he doesn’t have his usual entourage hanging around him. 
Before they can get another word out he grips their arm, raising the gun up to the sky. He tugs the thief towards him, forcing them to stumble into his chest. They gasp in shock, grip loosening on the gun with the movement. Yunho pulls it away with ease, disarming it and dropping the remaining bullet in a single breath.
“What the fuck,” the masked figure says, clearly bewildered.
They look up, staring wide eyed up at him. It’s only then that Yunho takes notice of their eyes. One a normal color. And the other a stark contrast. Gray in color, mirroring the dark clouds above the pair. The snow continues to fall around the two, silence filling the air. It's in this brief moment that he’s able to really look at them. In the small window of the ski mask he sees the bruises around their eye, the skin clearly swollen and discolored with a black eye. It's easy enough to guess that a person must have given it to them, he’s seen enough beatings to know. As bad as he feels, he doesn’t have the energy for this. 
“Look. It’s been a long day. I’m tired,” he starts softly. 
Yunho calmly lowers their arm, dropping the gun into their open palm. He takes a step backwards, de-escalating the situation. 
“I’m just trying to go home,” 
The thief looks down at the gun in their hand briefly. They glance back up at him, eyes now teary. 
Yunho gives them a tight lipped smile, gently letting them go. He walks past them, the thief, turns only able to watch in shocked silence. Yunho only makes it a few steps away before he feels the need to stop. He can’t explain it, but there’s a nagging tug he feels in his mind. 
He turns to face the thief, who stands there silently, still watching him. They somehow look smaller like this, vulnerable, defeated. He thinks back to the bruising he saw underneath the mask. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know something is more is going on than just a petty crime. 
“For what it’s worth, I hope whatever it is you’re going through gets better,” he says sincerely. 
Despite the actions of the masked figure, he understands what it’s like. Desperation is an old friend of his. A friend that led him down an uncertain path, that thankfully ended in his favor. But he knows it isn't that way for everyone. He gives them one last smile, hoping it conveys more than what his words would.
“Have a good night”. 
With that he turns around continuing to walk down the alley. The thief continues to watch him go, watching him disappear into the cold night.
Yunho’s walks don’t last another week. He’d been able to squeeze in two more days of walking before he’d given up. Far too bored. The short-lived adventure was nice while it lasted. But again he finds himself looking for something else, something outside of his normal routine. 
That's how he finds himself squished into a small seat, front row to a ballet Jongho had been begging to see. Something very common for their household. He’d only tagged along because Seonghwa had to miss it, a last minute meeting with Hongjoong and another group.
And while this isn’t his usual thing, he will admit the show is quite good. To his right, San is clearly not as impressed, He’s only become more restless as the first hour passed by. Now practically squirming in his seat. He leans forward in his seat, glancing around at the others.
“Do we have to sit through this whole thing?” San asks, doing a poor job at whispering. 
“Shhh,” Jongho says from his left side. 
“Is it at least almost over?” he prods.
“Shhh!” Jongho shushes, louder than the first time. 
“But it's boring,” he says, having given up on whispering all together. 
Jongho leans forward in his own seat, shooting daggers at San. 
“It’s not boring, you just don’t know how to appreciate art,” he snaps. He gives one last glare before turning his attention back to the stage. Mingi snickers from his seat on San’s right. 
San pouts, sulking back into his seat. Yunho can’t help but smile at the exchange. He nudges his shoulder, leaning closer to him. 
“Lighten up, it’s not that bad. I’m sure you can find some part of it to enjoy,” Yunho whispers. Mingi grins leaning over as well. 
“The dancers are quite pretty," he says, nodding towards the stage.
Yunho rolls his eyes as San perks up at the mention of the dancers. It’s like he’s just noticed their existence after the past hour. 
“Not what I meant, but to each their own I guess,” he chuckles quietly.
San pays him no mind. Now hyper focused on the performance, or performers, in front of him. 
Yunho watches the dancers, enjoying how easily their movements flow with the music. He recalls the dream his teenage self had of dancing. He was quite good at it too. He even had a scholarship waiting for him, hell he’d all been packing to leave for school. But alas life doesn’t turn out the way it does in movies, now does it? 
A series of hiccups and stumbling led him to where he is now. One eighth of the biggest family in the country. A rook in a set so carefully crafted, that nothing could stand in its way. Never in his life did he think he’d end up here. But when he glances on either side of him, seeing his brothers makes him think that there was nowhere else he’d rather be.
Despite the performance in front of him, he finds his mind wandering, still longing for something new. Anything really. He knows he sounds ungrateful, bratty even. But goddamn would it be nice for a sliver of excitement. 
Fate is funny with her timing as per usual. Clearly having enough of Yunho’s whining she’s intending to smack Yunho right in the face with his desires.
At that moment the dancers step forward right to the edge of the stage. Bodies dipping into a bow with the sway of the music. The costumes glint with the stage lights, drawing Yunho’s attention back to the present. 
Yunho ignores the low whistles undoubtedly from San and MIngi. He does his best to refocus on the performance. He taps his fingers along to the music, counting the beats of the dance in his head. 
It truly is comical the way the way the music builds, unknowingly leading Yunho to his fate. 
The dancers look up at the next beat and Yunho comes face to face with the person in front of him. A ballerina with an eye color that wouldn’t shock anyone, if it weren’t for the other resembling dark storm clouds in the sky. A set of eyes that he’s only seen once, but he could never forget. Yunho feels his heart skip a beat, a small smile tugging at his lips at the memory.
Now this is exciting.
Yunho also takes notice that the bruising is nowhere in sight. Aside for some light swelling, it’s practically invisible. He presumes it’s whatever makeup and other styling that’s required for the show. The dancer takes no notice of Yunho, clearly engulfed in the performance. In three beats the dancer is off, prancing to the other end of the stage. Yunho’s eyes now glued to them. A moth to a flame, a spark. 
Yunho continues to watch, taking notice of the way they glide. As if they were a wind up toy, made only to dance across the stage. The costume only adds to the image. While Yunho knows each costume is made to fit like a glove for every performer, this one is different. For this ballerina it doesn’t appear to be made, but to simply be a part of them. Everything about the way they bring the performance to life looks so effortless. This clearly suits them, in his opinion. 
The performance ends in a flourish, the audience erupting into a deafening applause. The dancers gather on stage, taking their final bows. Yunho glances on either side of him. Jongho no doubt will stop the conductor and offer his appreciation. San and MIngi both speak in hushed whispers, already planning their approach with whatever dancer that's caught their eye. But Yunho only has eyes for one dancer. He easily slips away from the others, off to meet his masked ballerina. 
“That bastard, that’s what he did to you?” Minji asks, turning your face in her hands gently. 
When you’d removed your makeup she’d all but elbowed her way through the others leaving for the night. She’d all but dragged you into her own dressing room, a murderous look in her eye as she scanned your face. After a bit of fussing, you reluctantly tell her about your interaction with your director. How after a bit of back and forth he’d swung his fist, leaving you with a swollen eye. if looks could kill, you’d swear Mr.Hak would be dead if he were in the room with the way Minji glares. You’d done your best to hide it from her, knowing she’d react this way. 
You grab her hands, pulling them away from you. 
“I’ll be fine, it’s nothing a little makeup can’t fix,” you say calmly.
She makes a face immediately, a lecture forming on the tip of her tongue.
“I know what you’re going to say. But you know I can’t leave. Not yet at least.
“I know. But that doesn’t mean you let him do this to you either y/n,” she says bitterly. 
“It was my fault, I kept pushing it and-” you don’t get to finish, Minji cutting you off.
“Like hell it was! I don’t give a fuck how long he’s been in charge, Hak has no right to be doing this to anyone,” she fumed, face growing red with each word. 
"Minji. I promise I’m okay,” You say soothingly. She sighs, taking a few calming breaths. 
“At Least let me give you something. I don’t have much, but hopefully the money will help you out,” she says, starting to walk towards her bag. You grimace, the thought of taking from her when she’s struggling just as much as you makes you feel sick. 
“You will do no such thing,” you say. You walk over to her, stopping her from looking through it.
“But-”
“I’ll find a way to make it work. You know I always do,” you say, giving her a small smile. Minji contemplates, before giving in.
“Fine, but please tell me if you need help. And I don’t care who he thinks he is, you say the word and I’ll kick his ass myself,” She says. 
That gets you to laugh, rolling your eyes. 
When you first started, you'd learned rather quickly that Minji was hot-headed. Fierce in a way that you weren’t. You think perhaps that is why she befriended you so quickly, sensing you’d need a backbone of a friend. Minji was like an older sister. Someone who wanted the best for you, even if her way of showing it could be a little over the top. But you loved her regardless. 
“Thank you Minji, really,” you say, pulling her into a hug. She hugs you back, holding you close. 
“Okay, well I’m heading out hun,” she says, letting you go. She slings her bag over her shoulder.  
“Get home safe,” you say, opening the door for her. She flips the lights off, leading you back out into the hallway. 
“You too. Don't stay here too long,” she says, giving you a pointed look. 
“I won't,” you say.
You walk her until you reach the door to your dressing room. She stops, turning to give you one final hug. With one last squeeze, you let her go. She gives you a final wave, before turning and leaving. 
When she’s out of sight, you sigh, shoulders dropping. You’re quiet as you open the door to your dressing room. You flick on one of the smaller switches, the lights of your vanity illuminating the room. 
You walk over, dropping yourself into the seat unceremoniously. You glance at yourself in the mirror, looking over the black eye for what feels like the hundredth time. The memory of that night, playing in your head like a loop. When you’d first graduated from your arts program you’d been so excited to start your career. It had been hell to make it through. Your heterochromia made it a nightmare to be a dancer. Every audition and casting left you feeling defeated. Each director or choreographer turning you away due to your condition. You’d had to claw your way to performing on a stage, fighting tooth and nail to just be given a chance. It was exhausting but it was worth it. Or at least you thought it was. 
Now as you stare at yourself in the mirror, the version that stares back at you is almost unrecognizable. How could you have ended up here? This couldn’t possibly be what life had in store for you, could it? Suffering for the sake of doing what you love? You could already see the way this vicious cycle was eating away at you. Cracking your soul into pieces bit by bit. You needed to get out. But only a miracle could save you at this point. 
You shake your head, doing your best to shake the thoughts with it. You lean down, tugging the shoes off your feet, and the tights along with them. You groan as you sit back up, muscles still sore from the performance. With a small grunt, you take the last bit of your outfit off, throwing the top to one of the chairs across the room. This late in the night you know you’re one of the only people left in the building, leaving no reason for you to rush to get dressed. You pull your robe down from the corner of the vanity, sliding it onto your shoulders. 
“That was a lovely performance,” a voice calls out, making you jump out of your skin.
You whip around clutching your robe closed as tightly as possible. 
A figure emerges from the shadows slowly, coming to stand a few feet in front of you. 
In the dimly lit room, you can make out the features of a man. He easily towers over you, dressed in all black like a shadow come to life. 
You recognize him as one of the men you tried to rob a few nights back. It takes you a second, with his appearance being a stark contrast to the man who stumbled upon you in the alleyway. Here he looks put together, black suit, hair pushed back, and expensive watch gleaming on his wrist. It's then you take notice of the insignia on his coat. The A against his heart is simple. A circle surrounding it, stitched in a darker shade of black. But the sight still makes your blood run cold. 
Holy shit, you’d tried to rob a member of Ateez, the most powerful family in the country. As if your luck couldn’t get any worse. Part of you wants to laugh at the entire situation, but the fear you feel keeps you rooted in place, scrambling for any escape.
“I didn’t think ballerinas were the type for armed robbery,” he hums thoughtfully. 
You subtly shift your hand to the side of your chair, fingers trembling as you reach under the armrest. 
“This is a private dressing room, you need to leave,” you say, doing your best to appear calm. 
The man hums, reaching into his pocket. He pulls his hand out, holding it in front of him. 
“Looking for this?” he asks.
Your heart sinks at the sight of your knife in his hand. He twirls it with ease, flicking it open to insect the blade. You press your hands into your thighs, swallowing nervously. 
“Please, I’m sorry. I don’t want any trouble,” your voice trembles as you stare up at him. He turns his attention back to you, taking in your fearful demeanor. 
He smiles, making a show of closing the knife slowly. He carefully sets the knife down on the shelf beside him, being slow in his movements. You eye it suspiciously, glancing between him and the knife.
“Don’t worry I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk,” he says calmly.
You nod slowly, still eyeing him warily. He nods back, still keeping his distance. 
“Do you know who I am?” he asks. 
Of course you know. Everyone in the country knows his name along with the other seven. The rook who stands in front of you is not to be messed with. 
“Jeong Yunho,” you answer.
The way you say his name sends a bit of a thrill through him. He likes the ways it rolls off your lips. 
“Hmm so you do know my name,” he says tilting his head to the side.
You can only give him a small nod. He begins to walk around the room examining the interior as he goes. You can’t help but keep your eyes trained on him. While he promised not to hurt you, you’d be stupid not to be on guard.
“Did you know who I was the other night?” he prods. 
“No,” you answer quickly. You were desperate, but not desperate enough to mess with him. You curse your past self for being so oblivious. He chuckles, the sounds sending a shiver down your spine. 
“It takes guts to step to a man twice your size like that,” he says, recalling your stupidity. He turns his sharp gaze towards you, further pinning you to your spot. 
“But considering I can see the way you're shaking, I think there’s something else,” he says.
“What were you looking for when you came at me?” 
“Nothing, I- I wasn’t looking for anything I swear,” you say a little too quickly. 
Yunho glances at your swollen eye, letting out a sigh. He knows you’re lying, but he can’t blame you. There was no doubt he was a man to be feared, but right now he needed you to trust him. 
“Look. I can tell you’re smart. So I know you wouldn’t have just decided to mug a stranger for fun,” he says, coming to stand in front of you once again. 
“So what is it that you need, sweetheart?” He says softly. 
You contemplate answering him. If he were here to hurt you, he would have done it already. He clearly wasn’t the type of man to waste his time. Despite your better judgement you choose to trust him. 
“Money. I needed money,” you say quietly.
He tilts his head thoughtfully. The movement kind of reminds you of a puppy. If you weren’t partly terrified, you’d think it looks kinda cute in a way. 
“You don't make enough, dancing?” he asks curiously. 
“No, not really,” you say, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you. 
“And the black eye, is that part of it?”
You freeze, looking at him in fear. Instinctively you wrap your arms around the edges of your robe, tucking it tightly against you. He notices the way you curl in on yourself. His gaze softens, offering you a sympathetic smile. 
“I’m not here to judge you,” he says softly. 
“They’re from the director,” you confess, quietly. He nods in understanding. He hesitates clearly wanting to say more. After a moment he clears his throat.  
“May I?” he asks, nodding towards your face. 
You think for a moment, before giving him a small nod.
He’s careful as he steps forward, doing his best not to startle you. He leans down, one hand coming to lean against the back of your chair. You feel goosebumps rise against your skin, as he lowers himself to be eye level with you. His other grabs your face gently, tilting your face from one side to the other. He’s delicate with the way he handles you. Strong hand gentle as he holds your chin with his fingers.
“He did this to you?” He asks finally, warm voice fanning across your face. 
“Yes,” you answer, scared to speak too loudly. You feel your skin grow warm the longer he scans over your face. His cologne invades your sense with the proximity, it feels intoxicating in a way you can’t describe. 
His face hardens, a look of anger flashing across his features. It scares you for a moment. But something about the look makes you want to soothe him.
“I asked for more after our last performance. He usually never aims for the face. I just wouldn’t drop it,” you explain, thinking back to a few nights ago. 
Yunho is quiet, eyes scanning over the marks carefully. A fierce need to protect you burning inside him. He can’t explain it, but there’s something drawing him to you.There’s something about you he just can’t shake. A pull so strong, he doesn’t think he could fight it if he tried. Though he doesn’t think he’d want to anyways. He also takes the time to really look at you, finding you even more attractive up close. He’s already seen your eyes, but seeing them up close and personal, he can’t help but find them more alluring. After another moment of admiring you, he lets your face go, still keeping his proximity. 
“Is it just you? Or are there others?” he asks.
“A few. Most of them quit before the first season is up. But some of us can’t,” you answer.
He only nods, clearly thinking something over. The gears turn in his head quickly, looking for a solution to your problems. After a moment, you see a twinkle appear in his eye. A mischievous twinkle that excites you, if you're honest with yourself.
“What’s your name?” he asks, breaking the silence.
“Y/n,” you say softly.
“Y/n”, he repeats. 
The way your name drips from his lips, sends a jolt through you. 
“Will you let me help you, Sweetheart?” he asks. 
You don’t know what it is about him, but you find yourself trusting him. How crazy it is to trust a man like him. He could hurt you, with a snap of his fingers you’d be destroyed in an instant. But he could also be your miracle. You suppose you have nothing more to lose at this point.
You give him another nod, this one determined. 
“Good,” 
“Come with me,” he says, offering his hand out to you. 
Going against every rational part of your brain, you take it. His hand is warm in yours. Something about it feels right, his larger hand holding yours ever so gently. Yunho thinks the same as he looks down at you. He’s so used to holding weapons, things that cause pain. But your hand fits so perfectly in his. Like it’s natural, like it was made to be there. He gently pulls you up from your seat, ready to take his new found excitement into action. 
“Come in,” a voice barks out from the door in front of you. 
You grimace, glancing at the men behind you. Yunho stands with three of the other members of Ateez, who you were introduced to. After getting dressed, Yunho led you to the others, who all looked at you with curious gazes. From there he had explained his crazy plan to all of you. Or at least you thought it was crazy. The other three didn’t even bat an eye. Jongho even looked excited, beaming at the plan laid before him. 
Yunho looks down at you as you give him a small nod to enter. You open the door, walking inside. The other three follow you in. Mr Hak, your company director doesn’t bother looking up. He continues going through the work in front of him, only pausing to take another drag of his cigarette. The door clicks shut behind the last member. 
“Who is it?” he barks out again.
“It’s y/n, sir,” you say, eyeing the men behind you again. 
Your boss scoffs, rolling his eyes at the sound of your voice. 
“This shit again. Look I already told you, you work for me got that? Everything you make comes to me. I own you. Now get out of my office before I-” he starts, voice booming in the small office.
He finally looks up, mid rant, doing a double take at the scene before him. His face goes pale at the sight of you and the four men that tower behind you. You don’t blame him. The sight of them had you shaking where you stood. 
“Gentlemen, what a surprise. To-” he pauses, having enough sense to extinguish the cigarette.
He stumbles out of his chair, hastily coming to the front of his desk. He clears his throat as he does it, clumsily dropping into a deep bow.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asks nervously. 
They take over easily, polite smiles on their faces. 
“Mr Hak, is it?” Yunho starts, eyeing the man before him.
“We just wanted to stop by. And bring our praises for the show,” he says adding a touch of sweetness to his voice. 
“Yes, a spectacular performance indeed,” Jongho says, clapping his hands together. 
“Thank you, we do our best,” Mr Hak says, sounding far too prideful. The response makes you roll your eyes. 
Jongho hums, eyes sharp as he watches Mr. Hak. 
“Of course. And that’s why we’re glad to be buying it off of you,” he says casually. 
You do your best to hide the smug grin at the way your boss reacts. 
“Buying?” he asks, clearly confused.
“Yes the theater, the shows, the performers. All of it. 
“While I appreciate the offer, it's not for sale,” he chuckles. 
“Nonsense,” San says, stepping forward. 
He stalks towards Mr. Hak’s desk. Confidence leaking through each of his strides. 
“I think you’ll find we’ve arranged a rather gracious deal, isn’t that right Mingi?” he states, glancing over at the taller member. Mingi hums in agreement, coming to stand next to San. Similar to Yunho, he towers over everyone with ease. The closer he gets, the more Mr. Hak shrinks in his spot. With the four in front of him he’s easily surrounded. Like an animal cornered. 
“We have, but if you feel as though it needs some rearranging we could always have Hongjoong Hyung stop by. I’m sure he can squeeze in a few moments with his busy schedule,” his voice calm, but the implication clear. 
You swear you see your boss’ heart stop as his eyes go wide. He lets out a nervous laugh, quickly waving his hands in front of him. 
“That won’t be necessary,” he says quickly. 
Smart choice, you think to yourself. Even an asshole like him wouldn’t be stupid enough to go against what the men behind you ask. Especially Kim Hongjoong of all people. There was no dealing with Kim Hongjoong. You’d heard the stories of those he visited, none had ever lived to tell of their exchange. That thought sends a shiver of fear through you. 
“Good, then we have a deal,” Jongho says, clearly ending the conversation. 
“Our men will escort you out,” he says, snapping his fingers. The door opens once again. Two guards walk in calmly, looking to the trio for orders. 
“See to it that Mr. Hak collects all his belongings,” San orders, no longer smiling. 
“He should have no need to return to this building after tonight,” Yunho adds, throwing a pointed look at your ex-boss.  
The guards nod, moving towards your Mr.Hak quickly. With orders in place, the others begin to file out of the room. 
“Pleasure doing business with you,” Jongho calls out over his shoulder, continuing to walk out without a second glance. 
Yunho sets his hand on your shoulder, nodding towards the door. You follow him and the others out of the room. You glance back to see Mr. Hak warily eyeing the guards. You continue watching until the door to the office closes behind you. 
The members continue walking down out into the foyer of the theater, .leading you outside
“So you’re really buying the theater?,” you ask, breaking the silence. 
Jongho shugs, glancing up at the bright sign above the building. He has a soft glance in his eye as he eyes the theater appreciatively.
“I practically come here every other week, it was bound to happen eventually,” he says, waving his hand dismissively. 
“Will you close it?,” you ask warily.
“Of course not,” he chuckles. 
“And the other performers?,” you probe, Minji crossing your mind along with all the others, 
“They’re jobs are safe, they will have the choice to stay or seek employment elsewhere. But no one will be forced to leave, you have our word,” Yunho says, soothing your worries. 
You nod, letting out a shaky exhale. For the first time in months things were looking up for you. You were free of Mr. Hak, and you could continue to do what you love without being miserable. 
“I can’t possibly thank you enough,” you say, emotion creeping into your voice. 
You bow to them, taking a moment to wipe at the tears building in your eyes. The four smile at you, being unable to find you anything but adorable. 
“We're not as scary as we look,” San says, throwing his arm around you in a friendly manner.  “Well except maybe Mingi,” he says, glancing at the taller man. Mingi glares, reaching over to swat at him. San ducks out of the way, moving between Yunho and Jongho. 
The action causes you to giggle. Maybe they were right about not being as scary as they look. Something about their presence felt comforting. Part of you wished you could get to know them a little more.  
“So I guess this is goodbye then?” you ask somewhat disappointed.
“Well we do own the theater now, so we’ll be seeing you around,” Yunho says a little too quickly. You don’t notice the way his ears grow red at his mini outburst. The others do. Each of them giving each other knowing glances as they slowly make their way further down the street. Yunho mentally facepalms, knowing he’s never going to hear the end of this later. The next moment makes it worth it however.  
You laugh, the twinkling sound making Yunho’s heart race in his chest. God was he screwed. 
“I suppose that’s true,” you hum in agreement, a knowing look in your eyes. Something about seeing the tall man bush had the butterflies fluttering even harder in your stomach. 
“So I’ll see you around?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“I look forward to it,” you say, smiling brightly. With that you turn and walk down the street. You offer goodbyes to the others, before making your way across the street, an extra skip in your step. Yunho watches you go, content to watch you leave. Something telling him the adrenaline he feels is here to stay.
71 notes · View notes
captain039 · 1 day ago
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Heal your hurt
Viktor x reader
Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angst, health issues, mental health issues, light swearing, chubby reader, intimacy, smut, friends to lovers, reader has chronic pain
I just need to take care of Viktor and for him to take care of me xD
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It’s a quiet day, rain gently pattering on the window of your shared apartment. Viktor’s been your roommate for three years now, but you’ve known him since you were little. You’ve always loved Viktor, lately though it just seems different, you catch yourself staring at him, watching the way his eyes scan over journals, notes and blueprints, watch the way his jaw sometimes clench’s a little to harshly, or his high cheek bones. Watching him slowly grow tired while you read on the bed making sure he doesn’t fall asleep at the desk, or how he makes his tea in the morning, his hair a mess his eyes barely open. It makes your cheek heat and your thighs clench. You want to throw yourself out the window some days at how bad it gets, you can’t help but wonder, let your mind wander to thoughts you shouldn’t be thinking about him, you imagine straddling him, making sure he’s comfortable before slowing sinking-
The door opening makes you startle, your book falls to the floor and you stare blankly before you register.
“Welcome home” you call to Viktor who just hums and heads to his desk lying his things down. He looks tired today more so than usual, his limp is worse than normal and you can see the tense lines in his jaw and brow.
“How was your day?” You ask. You know better than to ask if he’s ok, always being brushed off.
“Good” he answers simply sitting down resting his cane against the table, it wouldn’t be a talking day then. You sigh softly picking up your book and lying it on the table head in hand, elbow resting on the table as you look out the window, watching the rain fall.
“Did you have a good day?” Viktor’s voice comes and you look to him, he’s looking to you to which surprised you.
“It was boring” you shrug and he nods.
“Jayce says hello” he says and turns back to his desk.
“Tell him I say hi back” you say and he nods. You stand up deciding to take a shower instead of sitting, your hips protest and you swear you feel like someone just stabbed you in the tail bone. You want to curse but keep it in and awkwardly go to the bathroom. You run a bath, put in a few drops of oil and a scoop of bath salts, it’s your own damn fault for sitting in that chair too long. You want to slap yourself but don’t as you strip and struggle with your pants and socks. You sit on the toilet seat jaw clenching. Times like these you missed your mother, her helpful hand her warm words and caring touch, she made you feel less useless. You force your legs up and take off your socks one by one it takes you too long and you’re rushing to turn the taps off before you even get your pants off. You sigh shimmying your pants off before you settle in the bath with a small sigh of satisfaction. A temporary subdue of pain, you figured by now they’d invent something to stop this kind of thing, but no, we’re just inventing blimps and hextech. You sit in the bath eyes closed head resting on the small bath pillow that Viktor bought you. It’s… nice the small things he does, he’ll buy you a small gift you use every day like a new bookmark, a blanket or something you need, he’ll leave one of your jackets hanging by the door if it’s cold, he always knows how to make the best tea.
“Are you alive in there?” A gentle knock echos from the door and you open your eyes realising you were lost in thought.
“Yeah I’m alive” you call out hearing a soft rare chuckle from Viktor.
“Would you like a tea?” He asks and the thought of hot tea makes you smile.
“Yes please” you answer. Getting out the bath seems to harder than getting in, you feel ten times more heavy and drying your body feels like running a marathon. You struggle to your room, listen to the kettle boil as you take some pain meds and get dressed carefully. You leave your room and collapse on the couch ungracefully and sigh. You’ve never outright told Viktor of your problems, you figure he can see them even though you try to hide, sometimes it’s too much to hide, but you don’t want your burdens on him when he already has his own.
“Tea” Viktor says and hands you the cup. You thank him and sit up properly sipping the herbal drink with a small sigh.
“Viktor?” You ask as he sits at his desk and he hums back. You pause for a moment sighing and shaking your head.
“Sorry, don’t worry” you brush off picking up a book instead. You don’t see him falter and stop what he’s doing till you hear his voice.
“How is your book?” He asks.
“S, good” you hum.
“What’s it about?” He adds and you flick your eyes up seeing him writing something down.
“You don’t like my silly romance novels” you snort softly.
“Indulge me” he answers and something in your stomach flutters.
“I- ok. It’s about opposing kingdoms the Prince and the Princess must marry to form an alliance between each kingdom, they hate each other though and she’s been planning to murder him to get revenge for mother’s death. They’re forced to be together for appearance and she slowly finds out that it wasn’t in fact the prince that killed her mother but someone else, I think it was one of the kings assassins and the prince had no idea about it, anyway, she realised that the prince is not the evil master mind he appears to be, he’s a soft hearted gentlemen who cares for the people in secret and tries to save the kingdom from collapsing” you explain only half way through the book.
“Has either one confessed?” He asks.
“No, she’s still learning about her feelings but he’s head over heels just doesn’t want to push her” you shrug sipping your tea again and reading the page you were on.
“An enemies to lovers? Is that what you called it?” He comments and you smile to yourself.
“Yeah that’s what it’s called” you answer.
“With a slow…burn?” He tilts his head and your smile widens even if he can’t see it.
“Also correct” you let out a small giggle.
“I am slowly learning your… book language” you feel your stomach do a flip with butterflies at his words and you force yourself to stop smiling. You clear your throat and nod.
“Yeah, you’re doing good” you mumble focusing on finishing your tea and page.
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spiderb00 · 2 days ago
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Fam out 2 - Sophia Laforteza
Sophia Laforteza X Reader 
Synopsis - Sophia still loves when you're caring, she REALLY loves it! 
Genre – Fluff, still a little suggestive at the end ;) 
a/n - Thank you anon who asked for this, I wasn't going to do second part but I loved it, so here it is <3  request
Part 1 Part 2
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MAMA 2024 happened, the girls on stage, the bright lights, the well-executed choreography, the excitement, it all happened very fast. One moment the girls were on stage and the next Sophia was in your arms. The Filipino girl seemed happy and relieved that it was over, the comfort of your arms helped Sophia's breathing to calm down and everything seemed perfect.   
Until you hear unregulated breathing. But not like that one when you're just tired, no, that one looked different. Moving away from Sophia slightly, you can see a Yoonchae seemingly hyperventilating. And then it was like everything got a little murky. 
"Yoonchae, are you okay?" You said, your hand linked to Sophia's as you dragged the black-haired girl closer to the youngest.   
Panic set in when the younger girl didn't respond verbally, just looking at you with tears in her eyes. It seemed that Yoonchae's legs would give way at any moment, and that's exactly what happened. Your sixth sense helped hold the girl before her knees hit the ground. 
"CAN SOMEONE BRING A CHAIR, PLEASE!" You screamed.   
"There's a sofa in the dressing room, can you take it?" A staff member says as he points the way.    
You gently took Yoonchae in your arms, carrying it in bridal style. As you followed the staff, you could hear Sophia trying to calm the girls, who were coming quickly after you. 
"Yoonchae, dear, keep your eyes open, breathe with me, I'm here, okay. It's going to be okay." You repeated it like a mantra. 
"It's going to be okay," was what you kept repeating in your head, knowing that staying calm was best in this situation, because that way you had a better chance of calming Yoonchae down faster, and wouldn't leave the Kats in total panic.   
Laying Yoonchae on the couch, you asked someone to get some water, Megan quickly stepping up. Daniela tried to stay calm along with Lara, the two wondering if they could do something to calm the situation.  
"Yoonchae, here, I'm here. Breathe along with me, okay?" The younger girl shaking her head.   
Yoonchae tried to imitate the speed of your breathing, holding your hand, the younger girl looked into your eyes. Megan had handed the bottle of water to Sophia, who was now looking at the scene with a heavy heart.     
As Yoonchae's breathing calmed, everyone's nerves were lowered. Still holding your hand, Yoonchae drank water, receiving scratches on her head, from Sophia. Your girlfriend now looking at you, when your eyes met, you felt relieved, the comfort of knowing that you managed to handle the situation.   
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As the leader of Katseye, sometimes Sophia was called to meetings and things like that, you didn't know much, but you knew that whenever Sophia came home, all she wanted was to sleep clinging to you.   
So today, you decided to go to the Kats' house to wait for your girlfriend to arrive, greeting the girls when you arrived and going to the room that Sophia shared with Yoonchae. You knocked before entering, even though Yoonchae was probably asleep. But the biggest surprise was when the younger girl opened the door.   
"Hey Yoonchae, I thought you were sleeping. I brought you some things." You said lifting the bag so the girl could see.   
"What did you bring?" She asked, dragging you inside.   
"Nothing much, just a few snacks." you said.  
Minutes later you and Yoonchae were lying in the younger one's bed, a movie Yoonchae chose playing on TV while you and the younger one devoured the snacks you had bought. 
When the door to the room was opened, none of you noticed. Sophia, who had finally arrived from a meeting, quickly got a warm heart watching the scene. The movie was still playing on television, but you and Yoonchae had been asleep for a long time. The younger girl's head resting on your shoulder, by this time Yoonchae had a blanket wrapped around herself, while you froze to death. The bag of snacks was almost empty, only one package of candy was closed, Sophia recognized that, they were her favorites.  
The Filipino girl wasted no time, taking a picture of you and Yoonchae and making a mental note to post later on her Instagram. Lightly kissing your cheek, Sophia went straight to the shower, she couldn't wait to join you two. 
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Olivia Rodrigo's concert seemed like a dream for Sophia and Yoonchae. They were both extremely excited and even if you couldn't keep up with their excitement, it was great to see your favorite girls so happy.   
 Now, you've always been a calm person, few people had really seen a more aggressive side of you. Today, you didn't expect to be stressed, despite the huge queues and the large concentration of people in the same place, you were happy because Sophia and Yoonchae were happy. But now, you were no longer sure about it.   
Forgetting your wallet in the car seemed like a normal thing, at least boring, I mean, people forget things all the time. Leaving Sophia and Yoonchae in line, you quickly went to your car and grabbed your wallet, oh, how you wished you hadn't done that.   
As you walked closer to the girls, you can clearly see a guy hitting on Sophia. Normally this wouldn't make you so angry, but the fact that the guy was trying to hold Sophia against the wall made his blood boil. Getting closer you can hear Yoonchae say something, but all your decency was thrown into the air when you heard him reply "Shut up brat," while still holding Sophia to the wall with his arms. 
Coming up behind the guy, you can see the look of relief on your girlfriend's face, which soon turned to concern when you grabbed the guy by the back of the sweatshirt he was wearing.   
"Stay away from her, you fucking idiot." You said, holding on tight as the guy struggled.   
Looking at the boy's face for the first time, you can see how pathetic he looked. He was a little shorter than you and slightly taller than Sophia, he looked like he was about nineteen and had horrible bangs.   
"Sorry, please, I thought she was single." The boy said, it felt like he was about to start crying.   
"I said she had her girlfriend you idiot." Yoonchae said glancing at the boy.   
"And I told you to shut up!" The boy answered without thinking.   
"HEY!" By shifting the grip from the back to the front of the boy's sweatshirt, you pulled him up to your eye level. "You'll never talk to her like that again, do you understand?"  
The boy quickly shook his head. 
"Sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't know she was with you, please let me go."  
Not wanting to get in trouble with the security guards and also not wanting to ruin the girls' night even more, you let go of the boy with brutality, which made him trip and fall on his butt on the floor.   
"Get the hell out of here before I change my mind, you asshole."  
The boy ran away making you snort with such mediocrity.   
 "Wow, I had never seen that Yn side of you, it was always the calm Yn." Yoonchae said, while laughing.  
Sophia just looked at you with a smile.   
"Sometimes idiots make me mad." 
Finally you could enter the stadium to find your seats. With Yoonchae a little in front, without leaving your view, you felt Sophia grab your bicep as she leaned close to your ear.   
"That guy was an idiot, but I kind of enjoyed seeing you all mad..." The Filipino girl said as she bit her lower lip.   
"You liked it, did you?" you asked, seeing Sophia shake her head positively, knowing exactly where this was going.  
"I'll show you how much I enjoyed it when we get home."    
____________________________
damn, I have to stop making the endings always seem suggestive (I won't stop)
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s4bbatical · 2 days ago
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Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want | Part 1. (Rivals Declan O'Hara x Reader)
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Part 2 here.
Warnings: Profanities, sexual tension, alcohol and cigarette use.
Author's note: I'm not exactly staying on top of the timeline of rivals, bare this in mind as you read. Of course with any self inserts, it's an AU with a bit of tweaking. No smut involved in this chapter, just fluff until I post more parts. AGE GAP (22!Reader). Thanks for reading.
It was your first week at the Corinium. You were a fresh-faced journalist straight out of Washington State University who had accepted an internship at the independent commercial television station in the county of Rutshire, England. Far from home and comfort, you strived to be the best at what you were asked to do. The pay was good, and the idea of being in another continent where anything was possible kept your drive at an all-time high. You were practicing your decorum quietly to yourself at your desk, fiddling with your pen.
"Already going mad, are you?" Your co-worker and new friend Seb asks, grinning as he puts down his homework on your desk.
You laugh awkwardly, crossing your leg over the other as you lean back to look up at the ginger. "If I have to hear Tony Baddingham cuss out another person because Declan O'Hara is too stubborn to take his lead," You quip, closing your own folder of paperwork. "I think I'll start drinking more." You exasperate, recalling the sudden outburst from Tony's office a mere five minutes ago. Seeing Declan O'Hara riled up was never a great sign, but you couldn't help but run your eyes over his sculpted arms when he took off his blazer in frustration.
"I think you need to start drinking more in general, y/n. You're in England now. We all have a problem." Seb comments, half-sitting on your desk. "You should come with us to Bar Sinister. It's owned by Basil, Tony's brother." He says, crossing his arms.
You raise a brow. "I thought we were assigned to get dirt on the next guest on Declan's and have it in by Monday. Wouldn't that cut into our research time?" You query.
Seb laughs. "You Americans are such workaholics." He shakes his head. "Come get a drink with us!" He pleas, hitting your arm lightly. "Those reputations aren't going anywhere. Besides, we're all going, you'll be the odd one out if you don't."
"All of you?" You say, looking across the room at Declan O'Hara. He's speaking to someone on the phone in his office, the blinds open enough to allow you for a peek. God, what a man he was.
"Yes, all of us. I can't speak for Tony or Declan, though." Seb hums, the feeling of disappointment washing over you. "I'd like to see you there, though." He adds, the both of you sharing a lingering gaze before he gets up and walks away.
If you didn't know any better, you'd think your colleague was flirting with you. You didn't mind it, really. Seb was attractive, and only a year younger than you. Unfortunately, you just had a taste something a little more aged. Everyone seemed to want to fuck each other in this office. You barely managed to avoid the claws of some of the older men yourself, not that you were complaining-- besides the fact none of them were Declan O'Hara.
You decide to stand up, grabbing ahold of your folder before boldly heading over to Mr. O'Hara's office. You slowly knock on the ajar door to get his attention before you step in.
"-We'll discuss this later. Goodbye." Declan says into his phone, hanging it up when he notices you. "Y/n, hello. What can I do for you?" He asks, putting his hands behind his back as he leans back in his chair.
Many things. You think to yourself, trying to look away from his stretched out torso before speaking. "I was just wondering if I could help you with anything else before I leave today Mister O'Hara? I just noticed you seem a bit stressed, maybe I could take something off of your plate if possible." You say, smoothing out your skirt.
He chuckles lightly, leaning forward to take a sip of his whiskey on the rocks. "Call me Declan, love. No need for so much professionalism." He sighs, your heart skipping a beat at his words of endearment as he runs a hand through his hair. "I'm 'fraid not. Tony's up my arse, and my wife's trying to throw this ridiculously expensive party for my son's birthday which also happens to be New Year's and..." He notices your glimmer of concern in your eyes, staring into them as if he got distracted. "I uh," He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it." He says, waving it off.
"I'm sorry, that does seem like an awful lot." You say, your cheeks reddening from his stare. "You don't deserve that, you know. The way Mister Baddingham treats you." You mutter, toying with the folder in your arms.
Declan chuckles, pulling out a cigarette and popping it into his mouth. "Try telling him that." He says wryly, lighting up the smoke.
"Well Declan, there's a group of us going to Bar Sinister later, if you'd like to unwind. God knows we both need it." You try to joke, laughing awkwardly as Declan gives you a look. You clear your throat, straighten your spine. "Sorry, just a suggestion." You mumble.
He laughs genuinely this time, inhaling his cigarette again. "You're funny, y/n. I thought it would be intolerable hiring an American journalist-"
"Hey!" You interject, gasping playfully.
"But!" Declan holds a hand up, stopping you from speaking further. "You're quite lovely to have around. I enjoy your presence." He says, smiling at you. "I hope you consider a permanent placement in the future."
Your face lights up, a big smile on your face now. "Thank you Mister- Declan." You correct yourself. He laughs again. "But I would have to become apart of your personal board to get approved for anything like that." You add.
"Well," Declan says, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray. "I hope you don't mind if I consider that possibility y/n. You have a lot of potential, and I admire your drive." He admits, clasping his hands together and putting them on his desk.
"I am very flattered, Declan. Thank you." You say, looking down before meeting his gaze again. "It's been a pleasure working for you." The undertone of your words hint at something beyond, causing Declan to tilt his chin up a bit to analyze you.
There was something about you that had caught his attention since you first set foot in Corinium, and he couldn't seem to shake his mind from it. It was like a guilty pleasure he could never acknowledge out loud.
The phone rings. Declan nods towards it, signaling for the conversation to end. "See you tonight, y/n." He finishes, taking the phone off it's mantle as you feel heat beginning to simmer in your abdomen, nodding before leaving his office and closing the door behind you.
You have a wide grin on your face as you make your way back to your desk, hastily returning to your work in order to keep the evening free.
-
Much to your surprise, it was karaoke night at the bar. There was a good mix of random patrons and recognizable faces taking turns singing out ballads.
You and Seb were sat at the bar, him sipping on a Guinness as you had a vodka soda. Classic American, he commented when you ordered it.
“You gonna go up there?” You ask Seb, gesturing towards Freddie Jones who was pouring his heart out on the mic.
“Mm, possibly. What’d you reckon I sing? I’m tone deaf but maybe if everyone gets drunk enough no one will notice.” He jokes, earning a fit of laughter from you both.
“I love The Cure if that’s any help.” You suggest, finishing your vodka soda.
Seb quickly gestures for the bartender to bring over a bottle of wine. He notices your curious expression, shrugging his shoulders. “Company’s paying for this shite, not me." He explains. "Also, The Cure? I like 'em, but they’re not gonna translate with these guys.” He says, drinking his pint. He pours you a glass of wine as you glance around the space, trying to spot Declan anywhere.
“What about Last Christmas? You know, by Wham? It’s almost Christmas after all.” You say, already pouncing on your glass of wine.
“I do like that one, maybe I’ll do it yeah.” Seb says nonchalantly, finishing his Guinness. “I’ll go right now, actually.” He suddenly gets up, walking through the crowd.
You grab the wine bottle itself and take a swig from it, feeling the alcohol flush out your face. You hated how it made your cheeks red like you were ashamed to be plastered.
You finally see the man you were waiting for enter the place, scanning the room before his eyes landed on yours. You give Declan a timid wave, causing him to walk over as Seb began singing on stage. “You made it!” You exclaim, returning to pouring the wine into your glass so you seemed classy in front of your inappropriate work crush.
“Yes, sorry. Had to stay later at the office to do more flawed research.” He jests, nodding towards the bartender who already knew his regular. Declan referred to finding dirt on his guests as flawed research, mainly so it didn’t seem so inane in conversation.
"You're very dedicated to your work, I'm surprised you have time for any of this." You say, allowing yourself to speak more freely now that you were definitely tipsy.
"My wife would say the same." He sighs, taking a sip of his glass of whiskey.
You take another sip of your glass, trying to conceal your distaste at the mention of his wife. "Is she not very pleased with you, Declan?" You ask, causing your boss's face to harden. "I'm sorry," You quickly add. "That's personal I shouldn't have said that, that's so stupid of me-"
"Y/n." Declan says, putting a hand on your arm. You feel your body burn up at his touch. "It's okay, really. It's actually relieving to know you don't know anything about my martial problems. Everyone does." He says dryly, taking another sip of his whiskey. "She's not too keen on me being obsessed with my job. She compares it to cheating on her, which I find rather hypocritical considering..." He trails off, smiling at you. "Forget it." He raises his glass, clinking yours. "To you, for being an amazing intern." He slams back his glass, putting it down and grabbing ahold of the aged bottle of whiskey to pour himself.
You smile awkwardly, raising your glass before taking another sip of your wine. You piece it together in your head, realizing that his wife must've committed adultery; just like almost every other married person you've worked alongside so far. "Jesus, Declan. I'm sorry." You mumble, hearing Seb's singing end in the distance.
"Please, don't apologize. It wasn't your fault." Declan says, a look of yearning in his eyes.
"If I were her, I'd never do anything of the sort. If I was with someone like you I'd cherish it everyday." You say, finishing your glass of wine.
Declan raises a brow, chuckling heartily. "And someone would be very, very lucky to have you y/n." He replies, the two of you locked in a stare.
You were definitely drunk by now, and wine always gave you an edge to flirt with whomever you found most attractive in the room. You place a hand on his arm, finally knowing what it was like to feel his muscles through the thin material of his button up. "You deserve better, Declan." You say, rubbing your thumb along his bicep. You watch as the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile, placing his hand over yours on his arm.
"How'd you think I did?" Seb asks, returning the bar and interrupting the moment between you and Mr. O'Hara. You pull back, turning yourself to face Seb.
"You did great, Seb." You say, pressing a kiss on his cheek, causing his face to go as red as his hair. "I think I'm gonna give it a shot, show the English what talents an American has." You grin, unable to make eye contact with Declan out of embarrassment for trying to flirt with a married man. However, the commonality of cheating on spouses here still gave you a sliver of hope as you walked towards the stage, a mask of confidence due to alcohol consumption.
"What song are you gonna do?" Seb asks, following in suit.
"You'll see." You say. You walk up to the host, whispering a song in their ear. They nod, giving you a thumbs up as you get on the stage.
Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears starts to play, causing the entire place to riot with excitement. You grin madly, grabbing ahold of the microphone as the lyrics begin to play. You watch as Declan makes his way through the crowd, standing between Freddie and Seb to watch you perform.
"I wanted to be with you alone And talk about the weather But traditions I can trace against the child in your face Won't escape my attention."
You dance along to the music, singing freely like no one was watching.
"You keep your distance via the system of touch And gentle persuasion I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much? Oh, you're wasting my time You're just, just, just wasting time..."
You now make eye contact with Declan O'Hara, singing the chorus. Everyone's dancing around, paying no mind to where your attention was.
"Something happens and I'm head over heels I never find out until I'm head over heels Something happens and I'm head over heels Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart Don't, don't, don't throw it away..."
Declan watches you in admiration, realizing you're singing directly at him. You look away for the rest of the song, only returning your gaze when the chorus comes up again. When the song ends, you give a little curtesy, putting the mic back on the stand as everyone cheers madly.
"That was brilliant, y/n!" Seb exclaims, holding you in an embrace. You laugh, hugging him back. "Thanks, Seb."
"Seb, can you do one with me?" Daysee asks, causing Seb to pull away from you. "Course, what're you thinking?" The two of them walk away, leaving you be to earn compliments from the rest of your colleagues.
"You have a great voice." Declan says, causing you to turn and face him. "Great song, too." He adds.
"Thanks, it was a personal choice." You say, the next song starting up. Dreams by Fleetwood Mac starts playing, Seb and Daysee's choice. "Fuck, I love this song." You exclaim, looking over at the stage as your friends begin to sing along.
"As do I," Declan says. "Care to dance?" He asks, causing your gaze to return to his outstretched hand.
You smile. "I'd love to." You place one hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand as he places a hand on the small of your back. Your breathing becomes more shallow as the two of you rock to the music, staring into each other's eyes.
You didn't know if you were simply too drunk to acknowledge the reality of the situation, but you couldn't help but wonder if Declan was starting to like you a little more than just an intern that was great at her job.
The space between the two of you becomes insignificant, your head slowly leaning onto his chest as his hand moves down to your lower back, staying at the top of your skirt. You close your eyes as the two of you rock in sync, hearing his heart beat rather triumphally. Your stomach is full of butterflies, and the heat between your legs is almost unbearable as he rubs small circles on your lower back.
He smelled like Tom Ford cologne and Marlboro Golds with an undertone of whiskey, the scent of him nearly more intoxicating than the alcohol itself. You feel his chest vibrate as he quietly sings along to the song, causing you to pull your head back to look at him. You both start singing along, your faces merely inches away from each other.
"When the rain washes you clean, you'll know You'll know You will know Oh, you'll know.."
The song ends, everyone erupting into applause as you register the proximity of you and Declan, taking a step back as you notice the stares of your colleagues.
"Thanks for the dance." You mumble, looking down at the ground. "I uh, need to find Seb he's my ride." You say abruptly, leaving Declan stunned on the dancefloor as you hurriedly approach your ginger colleague. "Can you drive me home now?" You ask, putting a hand on his arm.
"Uh, yeah. Sure. Do you need a ride too Daysee?" He asks, the blonde shaking her head.
"'M alright. I'll see you lads on Monday." She says, grinning as the two of you grab your coats from the bar stools.
"Goodbye, Declan." You say, making eye contact with the brooding man who simply looks at you.
"Goodnight, y/n." He responds, inhaling his cigarette before looking away.
You feel a pang in your chest as you look at Declan for another moment, expecting more. He says nothing else. Seb leads you away from the bar, allowing you to let go of any longing between you and Mr. O'Hara.
Declan knew it was wrong to think of you in any other light outside of work. Even if Maud had cheated on him before, with the tendency to keep going at it, he still couldn't shake the guilt away just yet. He retreated to disregarding you as a means to hopefully make you both forget about the whole ordeal, as if he wasn't thinking about what it would be like to have his hands underneath that tight pencil skirt of yours.
He groaned and ran a hand through his hair, lighting another cigarette. The holiday season was about to be a real hassle, and he was afraid of asking Santa for what he really wished for this time around.
-
guys... i finally did it... declan o'hara i want you so bad. i think im just gonna write a part two to this maybe three, and leave it at that. if you have any requests pweaseee leave them for meeee this show has me in a CHOKEHOLD.
much love as always, isabel
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whumpsoda · 3 days ago
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Oh please write a snippet of Florence being put on the drip, knowing that his mind is being wiped and there's nothing he can do about it
@oliversrarebooks
Masterlist
Man do I hate him <3
cw: pet whump, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, institutionalized slavery, wru facility, drugging, impending doom
——————
This was the end.
He could now say that he had experienced how it felt to contemplate death, not that he could never really tell anyone, now could he? That was basically what it was, the death of his mind. The death of a person, the person he was, brain turned to the mush that was a pet’s.
He swallowed, shaking. He wasn’t supposed to be shaking, never before would he have ever been fucking shaking, yet he couldn’t stop himself.
There was a muzzle covering a majority of his face, padded and black to match the mitts tied around his hands, to keep him from biting. Or maybe from screaming. Maybe both.
He was restrained to a table, similar to one in a doctors office, but - and of course - fucking white. He’d never really thought that much about it as a handler, when his life didn’t revolve around it - the white walls, white lights, white shirts, white uniforms - but goddammit everything was white. It made him sick to his stomach, a burning throb that seeped into his head.
This whole room was the same - white tile, white walls, white furniture, white cabinets - save for the metal machinery that provided no solace.
An itch blossomed in his outgrown, frizzy curls, one he couldn’t move to reach, forcing him to rub his head to the surface of the table. Making him look like the animal they would turn him into.
A snap in his face, catching his attention. Like a dog. “You ready? Or are you gonna struggle like you always do, even to your last moments?” Handler - God no, Everett - chuckled, stood right beside him.
His last moments. How laughable was it that he was spending them tied down to a table about to be plugged into the same substance he’d put so many boxies’ through? How fucking funny would he have found that if it was someone else on the table instead of him?
He wanted to sock Everett right in the face. He would’ve, if not for the restraints. Still, he struggled - banging, kicking weakly, snarling wildly - face beating red as Everett began to laugh.
“Isn’t that just a sight?” Everett leaned over his trainee, grinning with that stupid look on his face. A growl rolled out from under the muzzle, muffled and nearly unheard. “Man, I’m so excited, you have no idea. I’m so done with your antics.”
Anger fired up a flame in his chest, binding over his lungs as his cheeks boiled. With a clunk his fists fell to the table, over and over again in the attempt to make as much of a ruckus as he could. Anything to irritate his captors more than he already had. Anything to bring him any semblance of satisfaction.
“Hrgh-!” His eyes practically burst from their sockets as electricity exploded around his kneck, a squeal crackling from his throat as the shock seemed to stretch on and on.
Before, Everett would have thought the sight was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. Now he sat their straight faced, looking as bored as if he was any other trainee. “Don’t make me use the shock collar, ‘065, you know it’s already gotten old.”
The muzzle did it’s very best to constrict his hoarse, shallow breathing, the edge scratching over the skin of his throat. Everett patted his shoulder, comforting if not for the circumstances, calling his attention back.
“Don’t you worry one bit, ‘065. Everything’ll be a-okay once you’re off the drip. You’ll see.” Everett couldn’t even put in the effort to hide his smirk, one he so very much to wipe right off. “You want me to hold your hand?”
Everett was taunting him. Taunting him. Like they did to trainees together, except this time he was the trainee.
What would he even be after this? As a real trainee, head knocked empty?
A boxie. He’d be a braindead, obedient little boxie.
He’d have an owner, someone whose every word he would hang from, drooling to serve them.
His stomach churned, bile bubbling up with heat from his belly. He was going to puke just thinking about it.
What a joke.
The click of the door, steps parading the edge of the room. The doctor had arrived, the same one he’d worked with several times previously on other boxies. This time though, that doctor would be working on him.
“You guys ready to get this party started?” Everett asked - hands on his lap in an anticipatory stance - giddy almost, to no response.
The doctor was on the other side of his table then - he’d never cared to remember her name - audibly flicking switches, turning knobs.
“And we’re on.” Everett sneered, plopping himself into a white, plastic chair across the room. The perfect view, staring straight at him.
This was-
This was it.
He could feel his lungs growing and depleting, breath sucked in and out faster and faster every nearing second. The muzzle wasn’t doing him any good, only furthering his struggle for air.
He gripped to the walls of the table as best he could with mitts around his hands, wriggling weaker and weaker against the restraints with every passing moment. The drip was already getting to him, quicker and quicker.
He shrieked, quieter than expected but still a decent sound. The doctor was unmoved, Everett giggling from his seat.
How dare they.
How fucking dare they.
He was a person, not a boxie. He wasn’t like them. He was someone who had a family, friends, a real fucking future ahead of him, one they swiped away just like that. One that, this time, he couldn’t see any way to get back.
He couldn’t struggle. His limbs were numb, falling limp as something dead, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. What could he have?
The air was hot in his mouth, sweat dribbling over his top lip and onto his bottom. Already he felt himself drifting, like he was floating almost, unable to grab back on.
Maybe-
If he could just-
If he-
he…
His head filled up with a sensation of suffocatingly air, as if going in for surgery. He caught Everett flash him a small, glittering wave. “See ya soon, ——,”
Only white, hearing fading out to a buzz.
Only white, thoughts washing into the abyss.
Only white, vision clearing to a stinging brightness.
Only white, memories flushed to emptiness in the blink of his eye.
Wiped.
——————
Masterlist
Taglist - @softvampirewhump @ivymyers @taterswhump @octopus-reactivated @tippytappytyping
@distracted-obsessions @starfields08000 @bitchaknso @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @scoundrelwithboba
@whumped-by-glitter @whumpering-heights @arlin-always-writing @bilightningwhumper @sharkyydoesnothing
@whump-till-ya-jump
If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)
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dead or alive? (sirius & regulus)
a/n: a little black brothers angst! still debating whether or not i like it, but sharing it anyways. heads up for reg not doing too hot.
‘Regulus?’
It is 04:00am and dark. Sirius is sat with his back against the bathroom door in his brother’s flat. His phone lies discarded on the floor, the bright screen of his messages with Barty acting as a torch in the early morning shadows.
‘Regulus?’ he repeats, voice quiet and thin. It sounds less like a name and more like a hope, feebler than he wants it to. He clears his throat abruptly and gives it another shot.
‘Listen,’ he says, attempting to bargain with the nothingness. ‘I’m not asking you to come out here and have a nice little chinwag about your feelings or any of that idiocy. I’m not a therapist, and I’m not going to force you to tell me about any of the shit you’re going through right now, promise. I just need to know that you’re okay.’ Sirius’ eyes flick down to the Whatsapp messages at his feet. He rubs his face roughly with his palm and gazes bitterly at the ceiling.
‘The things Barty’s been telling me are fucking scary, you know that? You’ve got to know that. Just knock or something. Come on.’ The clock down the hall cuts through the silence with a few jarringly loud ticks. It is 04:02am.
‘Fuck’s sake, Reg,’ he swears, exasperated. ‘Open the bloody door.’
‘You can’t hide in there forever. Aren’t you freezing? I’m freezing. Why don’t you ever put the heating on? I know you can afford it.’
‘I swear to God, this is getting ridiculous now. I know you’re there. I can see your damn shadow.’ Sirius’ long pale fingers tie themselves into knots over and over as he fidgets. More agonising silence.
‘Regulus.’ The door remains shut, and the shadow behind it remains unspeaking. It is 04:05am.
‘Should I get someone else here? Is it just me that you don’t want to talk to, is that it? If I got Evan or Remus or, shit, literally anyone else, would you speak to them?’ Desperation is beginning to crawl out of Sirius’ throat, mangling his words into raw, strained sounds that chase after each other quicker than they ought to.
‘Come on. You haven’t got vocal cords for nothing, you are aware of that right? Just say something. Just let me hear your voice, and then I’ll go away and never bother you again, yeah? Just let me know you’re alive. Please, Reg.’
‘You’re my little brother, you know. You’re still my little brother. I know you hate me, a-and I hated you too, for… longer than I should have, and growing up was pretty shite - I think we both understand that now. You know, I’ll always feel guilty for leaving you. I swear, there hasn’t been a single day where the guilt hasn’t eaten me alive, James could tell you. So you’ve every right to hate me. Really, you do. You could hate me for your whole entire life and I’d get it, seriously, I would get it! But you’re my little fucking brother, Reggie. C’mon. Just do this one thing for me, this time. I need to know my little brother’s okay. I need to know he’s here with me and not… not dead on the fucking floor. Give me that much.’
It is 04:12am when the handle turns. Sirius isn’t expecting it at all - he’s aching and exhausted and terrified and too used to silence. He jumps when he hears it, turns wide, shining eyes towards the sound with unsure anticipation. There’s a few moments of clumsy shuffling, and then the door is opening inwards onto a dull gloom that clings to the tiling and old-fashioned sink with unrelenting intensity. It is very quiet. For one terrible moment Sirius thinks, irrationally, that maybe Regulus isn’t there. That he’d been sitting in the hallway for the past twelve minutes begging thin air and the ghost of who used to breathe it. But then the shadows are shifting, taking on form and contour, becoming something more familiar. Regulus crawls out from behind the door with shaky breaths, and lets himself be lit by the phone on the floor in all his wretched vulnerability.
Sirius doesn’t move, at first. He just stares at his brother. Sees his grey eyes reflected back at him in a slightly younger yet equally pained mirror image. Sees those eyes flicker and move and relishes in the aliveness of them. Sees a not dead brother. Then it processes somehow, and he’s pulling that wonderful, infuriating, not dead brother hastily and instinctively towards him with both arms, and holding him, and crying without realising it. Regulus lets it happen. He collapses into the hug.
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skijumper · 1 day ago
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domiel, lillehammer 2024
"I thought we weren't talking anymore," Domen says and Daniel winces, looking hurt.
Domen is sitting on his hotel bed, scrolling on his phone through Instagram when there's a knock on his door. Confused, Domen looks up. He is not expecting someone. Most of the team has already gone to bed as far as he knows and Domen didn't order any room service.
He puts his phone on the nightstand, gets up and walks slowly to the door. Domen's body still aches from his fall earlier but that's nothing compared to what could have happened. Quickly Domen banishes the images from his head. He does not want to think about that. Before Domen can open the door, there's another knock. He rolls his eyes. Whoever is standing before the door, is in a hurry.
Domen opens the door a little and peeks out. You can never be sure. Maybe there's a burglar there who wants to rob Domen. But Domen doesn't have anything valuable on him. A few euros, yes, but otherwise there's not much to be gained from him. Standing before the door, however, is not a thief.
It's Daniel Andre Tande. Domen does a double take, not trusting his eyes. Maybe he did hit his head worse than he had thought. Daniel (or the illusion of Daniel) gives a small smile. "Hi," he breathes, "I wanted to make sure you are okay. Can I come in?" Without a word, Domen steps aside and lets Daniel in. He rakes his head of things to say. Probably "Hey, nice that you are here" or something like that.
"I thought we weren't talking anymore," is what comes out of his mouth instead. Very subtle indeed, congratulations. Daniel winces and Domen considers jumping out of the window. But since his hotel room is on the ground floor, that wouldn't help much. Only wet clothes from the snow.
Daniel turns to look at Domen but he averts his eyes, doesn't want to see the look on Daniel's face. There was a time when Domen loved nothing more than to look into Daniel's face, to see the sparkle in his eyes and to enjoy his smile. But that time is over and it is not Domen's fault. It was Daniel who ended everything, who broke Domen's heart. "With my retirement, things will be difficult between us, we shouldn't see each other," Daniel had said and in that moment, Domen's world had collapsed. Sure, officially they had never been together but Domen couldn't deny his feelings. He had fucking loved Daniel! The fact that he dared to show up here now is unbelievable. Who even gave Daniel his hotel room number? Suddenly Domen just feels anger inside him, slowly rising to the top.
"I saw you fall and I felt so much anxiety in me, it was unbelievable. Of course, I saw you walking away but I just wanted to make sure you are okay," Daniel explains and Domen shrugs. He knows Daniel's history with falls and sure, it wasn't a nice fall but Daniel could stop pretending he cared about Domen. He had clearly shown that this wasn't the case.
Domen put his hands on his hips. "See, I'm in one piece, you can go now," he said in a gruff voice and Daniel sighs. "Look, I know I have been an asshole but I still care about you, you know." Domen huffs at that, rolling his eyes. As if that is the truth. Domen knows better now than to trust Daniel with anything.
Daniel takes a step towards Domen but he backs away. A look of hurt crosses Daniel's face but Domen does not care. Who does he think he is? "You should go now," Domen says again, more urgent this time. He needs Daniel out of his hotel room or he might do something stupid like yell at him or even worse, cry. That would be embarrassing.
"Domen, please. I am sorry, I know I have hurt you and I deserve it if you hate me. But I did what I did for us. How could it have worked between us with me being retired and you in new countries every weekend? We barely would have seen each other. But I realized just how much I have missed you. It deeply hurt me to not be able to hear your voice or see your laughter. I don't know what to do," Daniel confesses and Domen thinks he sees some tears starting to collect in Daniel's eyes. Domen deflates, all the anger suddenly gone. He understands Daniel's reasoning but he can't help but feel like Daniel could have handled it better. Daniel looks so small in Domen's hotel room and Domen believes what Daniel had said.
Still, he is unsure how to proceed now. First, he probably has to say something, right? "Thank you for explaining your reasoning. That's what I would have needed when you had ended it between us. Just an explanation and maybe a sorry," Domen says and shrugs. Daniel nods miserably. "I know, I was horrible."
At that Domen laughs, making Daniel jump slightly. "Oh yes, you were. You know, I told Peter what you have said. He wanted to fly over to Norway and kill you," Domen says and Daniel looks horrified. Well, he should be. An angry Peter is not something you want to deal with, Domen knows this from first-hand experience. He grins at Daniel and the Norwegian seems slowly to relax. "I'm glad he didn't, then," Daniel says and Domen answers, "Me too."
Now Daniel also smiles a little. Shyly he looks at the floor, before he asks, "May I hug you?" Domen considers it a little before he nods slowly. He still doesn't know how to feel, but deep down Domen feels that he wants to feel Daniel's arms around him. When Daniel slowly hugs him, Domen sinks into the embrace. It just feels good to be near Daniel again. Domen has missed this feeling more than anything. Maybe it will never be the same again, but what is happening right now is a step in the right direction.
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existingingrey · 2 months ago
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Noh Sang Cheol's hands are always dabbling into dangerous areas.
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unnamed-atlas · 2 months ago
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Ohhhh you know something's wrong with my brain when I'm looking at the Zeph ask blog and thinking about restarting it. Again.
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pebblezone · 2 years ago
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Why the fuck is he like that (beyond lovingly)
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luveline · 5 months ago
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Jade can I please get a chatty af yapper sunshine girlfriend with Sirius?? Like May be someone tells her she talks a lot so she's super quiet around him cuz she's worried he'll get annoyed and break up with her but poor Sirius he misses his chatty girl and just angst with fluff
thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k
James Potter means well. Honestly, you don’t think he has a mean bone in his body, so you try not to take it to heart. 
Unfortunately, your attempts to do so don’t work. They really, unquestionably don’t. By the time you’re outside of Sirius’ flat that afternoon, James’ small comment is all you can think of. 
“You’re so chatty I’m surprised you don’t run out of breath,” he’d said. Not without love. You’d bumped into him in Sainsbury’s and ended up talking for ages about one thing or another, you know him well, you’d even say you were friends, though he’s of course Sirius’ friend rather than your own. “But I’m the same. God, Sirius used to hate how much I talked, he’d be sick of me. I think I numbed him to it over the years.” 
You can’t imagine it. Sirius and James are best friends. With Remus, they’re the most in love threesome of friends you’ve ever met, and it’s nice; it makes you very proud to have a boyfriend who cares for others as deeply as Sirius cares for them. It’s like a constant demonstration of how he’s a good man. 
But you’d never stopped to consider that they weren’t always so seamless, and you’ve regrettably never considered that your constant talking is something that could put him off. 
You talk to Sirius about everything. There isn’t a word to describe the excitement of having someone waiting to listen to you every single night. You could tell him every detail of a day down to what colour socks you wore and you know he’ll sit there listening with his hand on the small of your back, or his fingers twined between yours. You’ve never felt so loved as to be able to just talk about everything and have him talk back. 
But… what if, this whole time, he’s been wishing for a little bit of quiet? 
What if eventually, the talking becomes too much? 
He must be with you for a reason. You aren’t holding the poor guy hostage, he acts like he’s mad for you ninety percent of the time (while the other ten percent is spent sleeping on your shoulder). 
Like now —you knock his door and you can hear him scrambling up from the sofa, the sound of a book dislodged or a remote hitting the rug, you’re not sure. The door yanks open and Sirius smiles at you, pulling you in through the gap with a familiar hand on your hip. 
“Hey,” Sirius says, tucking you against his side, “hey, did you get lovelier over the weekend?” He shoves the door closed and gives you a hug with one arm, pausing in the hall. “Sorry I couldn’t see you. I don’t think we should miss another weekend.” 
You have a lot to tell him. It’s been ages since you spent nearly three days apart, but James’ conversation stays at the front of your mind. 
You decide to be less overwhelming, but not less loving, curling your arm behind his head to pull his cheek down for a kiss. “I don’t think so, either.” 
Sirius tilts his head away from you in an invitation for more kissing. 
You’re at home in his flat. You take off your shoes and hang up your jacket. You change into a pair of jogging bottoms with loose legs and let him hoist you onto his bed for a few stolen kisses, though he isn’t propositioning you, and you end up laying across his bedspread with one of your legs in his lap as he tells you about his days without you, his thumb sliding with pressure down your calf. 
“Mostly I wished I’d asked you to come over anyways, even if it was just to sleep together at the end of the day. Maybe next time we can do that?” he asks. 
“Of course we can.” You smile at him indulgently. “I’d come over for twenty minutes if it was all I could get.” 
“Or I can come to you,” he says, “even if it’s just twenty minutes.” 
He smiles, a beaming thing, and leans down slowly for a soft kiss. 
“So,” he asks, his breath on your lips, “how was your weekend? Lonely?” 
“So lonely,” you tease lightly, eyes fluttering closed as he continues his massaging of your leg. “But it was okay. I missed you, really, and didn’t do much else.”
“No?” he asks. 
Your voice takes on a shine as he squeezes your knee, “Missed your hands.”  
“I missed your everything.” He grabs for your forearms and pulls you into a sitting position. “But everything was okay?” he asks more seriously. 
“Everything was fine.” 
He raises his eyebrows, but eventually lets them relax. “Well, okay. Good, sweetheart, I’m glad it was okay.” 
He persuades you into the kitchen to sit with him as he makes dinner, refusing to let you help, and yet insisting you be there in the same room, as though you’d like to be anywhere else. Sirius makes your favourite of his usual rotation, offering you spoonfuls for tasting, gaps of silence stretching as he struggles to find new conversation. You start answering his questions but remember time and time again that Sirius could become totally sick of you. He might already be. 
Sirius puts the food on a low heat and washes his hands. He wipes them dry, but when he takes your face, dampness lines the inside of his fingers. 
“I’d like for you to tell me what’s wrong,” he says gently, stroking at the line of your startled frown, “before it gets worse. Do you want to talk about it?” 
“Nothing’s wrong.” 
“Please don’t, lovely. If I’ve done something wrong, please tell me. I want us to last forever, and we can’t do that if you won’t tell me when I upset you.” 
“It wasn’t you,” you say instinctively, then regret it. 
“So someone has?” he asks, still so gentle as his hands coast down your neck like he’s sculpting you, coming to rest on the slopes leading to your shoulders. “You can tell me anything. You don’t have to keep it to yourself… please.” 
“Are you sure?” 
“Sweetheart.” He frowns deeply. Couldn’t look more upset. “Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” 
You chew it over, not wanting or willing to cause ructions between Sirius and his oldest friend. “Well, I saw James today at the shop, and… we were talking about you…” 
He waits. “And?” 
“And he told me you– you don’t like talking. That you didn’t like talking, that James used to make you sick of it. So I know I talk too much and you’ve never made me feel like I shouldn’t, but I guess I got into my head thinking you’d get sick of me, too.” 
“When we were younger I didn’t like much of anything.” He curls an arm behind your neck to hold you in place, but it’s not a dominant sort of movement, only protective as your noses inch together. “Did you ever read that poem by Bukwoski? Let It Enfold You?” 
“What?” 
“I’m not very good at explaining myself. I thought if you knew the poem, you’d–” He laughs near your cheek. “I hated everything. It wasn’t James’ fault. He did make me sick of it sometimes, but I just wanted to hide from everything.” He breathes out slowly. “I’ve never wanted to hide from you. I can’t get sick of you. Do you get that? I can’t get sick of you. Listening to you is the best part of my day, you’re my personal chatterbox.” 
“Chatterbox,” you repeat teasingly. 
“You could talk for Wales,” he says. “And I love it, I don’t want you to stop, because I’ll never be sick of it.”
“I don’t want it to be some secret resentment.”
“I don’t resent you for anything. I knew exactly who you were when we met and I love it.” He takes your face again. “I love it,” he repeats. 
You steal a little kiss against the corner of his lips. “What was the poem?” you ask. 
“I’ll find my book, and you can read it to me. What do you think?” He takes a slow kiss as you had in the same place, words like honey. “I miss your voice.” 
He’s basically pleading. It’s not like Sirius to plead, but you pull it out of him. 
“Can I have my dinner first?” 
“The one I made while you deprived me?” he asks. “Yes, if you must.” 
He takes another kiss, but you’re happy to give it. 
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sunniepoo · 5 months ago
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plsplspls more mean and icky stepbro!rafe x innocent/pure!reader 🙏 i lovee the way u write him 💕💕
maybe something like stebro!rafe teaching r how to kiss n get herself off n all that orr maybe sleepy sex <3
౨ৎ 🍓。˚🍰♡ ˚₊‧ ︎
“ngh-uh” you pant, body restless as your fingers sloppily slip in and out of your dripping cunt. you’ve never felt like this, never felt so desperate; so unexplainably horny
you hadn’t expected the whine that left your mouth to come at the high volume that it did, but you were just so frustrated; your fingers weren’t hitting that one spot you craved them to. when all your friends said they did this , you expected it would be easy, not like this
all your thoughts were interrupted as a harsh knock on the door followed by the booming voice of rafe caused you to scramble, finding a spare top and shorts to chuck on before answering
“jesuuus christ open the door already” the older blonde shouts, pounding the door aggressively
you rush and open the door slightly to reveal the frame of a shirtless, messy haired rafe - you could see the slight pop of the veins in his arms and most importantly the bulge in his pants. “what’s taking you so long” you couldn’t miss the slight smirk and teasing tone coating his voice “hm?” he questions again
“uh-j-just” the natural panic was evident in your eyes as they widened and your eyebrow raised like a deer caught in headlights “ just tired”
you couldn’t help the groan that comes out as he enters your room. “raaafe” your whine to stop him falls on deaf ears as he sits on your bed. “please leave” you huff out, just desperate to get back to working your pussy away and get the release you’ve been dying for; he was ruining everything
“c’mon sit” the older cameron pats of his lap, calling you over as if you were his little puppy “raafe please go” you would’ve typically never gave this much attitude to the brooding male, him acknowledging your presence was a once in a lifetime thing
“don’t make me repeat myself” despite his menacing tone his gaze was enchanting, you’ve never understood how someone so beautiful could be so cruel at times.
with a couple of huffs and puffs you find yourself making your way over to the tall blond, making yourself home at one of his legs as the large surface of his palm guided you onto him.you had to bite back the whimper that threatened to leave your mouth as your clit rubbed against the front of his leg
it was confusing to say the least - why was he being so nice? but you were just a girl and it was so so so tempting to just lean back into the chest of the older cameron , letting his warmth fill you
you could feel his warm breath fall up on your shoulders, tingling the bottom of your ears “w-what are you doing here” you finally breathe out, finding it impossibly hard to not just rub against his leg
“just wanted to let you know that our rooms are right next to each other” he whispers, it was so oddly sensual and it couldn’t help but make your poor little pussy clench and pulse around nothing. it made your head tumble you shouldn’t feel this way about him; not your new big brother
“i already know tha-” you start but are interrupted by the boy beneath you, eyes looking at you intently while his fingers dance along your waist
“and the walls aren’t as thick as you think, so you know i hear everything”
oh!
you were speechless - quite literally, you opened your mouth to say something and nothing but a small squeak came out and before you know it tears were welling up and your eyes as you were starting to breakdown
“hey hey hey” he rushes to speak, rubbing a what was meant to be soothing arm across the sides of you but only causes you to hide in shame “don’t stress… i came here to tell you that i can y’know help” his fingers making their way down to your thighs, sliding up to cup your pussy “just some lessons”
“what” you didn’t expect your words to come out so harshly, as you look at him with wide curious eyes - could he really?
and that’s how you found yourself legs spread open, with rafe cameron fingers rubbing on your sensitive little clit, one finger slipping into your cunt reaching oh so deep. they had turned less into lesson but more into your older stepbrother straight up fingering you in your bed
“oooooh” you moan out, his finger knuckle deep in your needy little pussy hitting places you couldn’t even imagine “feels so ngh- good” he couldn’t help but stick another finger into your wet cunt watching your head go to complete bliss as it clenches desperately around the length of his fingers while he gently pistons them in and out
“could make you feel like this all the time” he breathes out, his own hard on grinding against the plump of your ass “little sluts like you love it”
the coarse whine that left your mouth signalled your upset as you looked at him wide eyed with your lips pouting. the breathy laugh that leaves him is followed by a soft kiss to the tops of your head “s’kay you’re my little slut”
“i-i ngh- don’t think” you could barely make out words as his fingers speed up to an impossibly fast pace, the coil in your stomach was starting to loosen and oh it felt so good! “w-we should do this agai-” the moan that left your mouth was almost pornographic, heaving loudly as his thumb goes to harshly rub on your clit
“hm and why is that” he teases increasing his pace and pressure, hitting all the right spots - this was so so wrong
“you’re family; you’re my stepbrother” you felt yourself finally get closer, like that ache was finally going to be cured- he must’ve had magic in his fingers with the way he was making you feel
and just as that coil in your stomach was about to unfold, he stops and even with your grinding against him and the endless whimpers he doesn’t continue
“why did you stop?” the question comes out a lot more pathetic than you expected, “well you said it, we shouldn’t be doing this, so i guess i’ll just g-” despite his words he makes no efforts to leave but that doesn’t stop your from whining and holding him tightly
“no no no…. i didn’t mean it” you admit, voice all weak and needy - all you want-no needed was him to fuck you with his fingers all messy and mean, there was no point in trying to hide it
“that’s my girl” the soft kiss is a stark contrast to the rough and nasty pistoning of his fingers, messing up your poor cunt but bringing you closer to your high
“yes yes yes” you thanked god that no one was home tonight as the loud moan left your mouth as your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers, your high washing over you - leaving you putty in his arms
maybe rafe wasn’t so mean after all
౨ৎ 🍓。˚🍰♡ ˚₊‧ ︎
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