#how does anyone put up with me? I’m insufferable

[gamerwoo]

really sucks when you realize you and a friend have just kind of grown up as two different people and don’t mesh together like you used to and like you have so much history you don’t wanna let go of but you’re absolutely miserable in the friendship

[valwrote]

PICK YOUR DOMESTIC HUSBAND 🛒

WHICH HUSBAND IS ON THE DOMESTICITY MENU TODAY?

featuring: diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, neuvillette.

synopsis: glimpses into married life with the genshin men.

warnings: implied fem!reader, occasional pet names, ooc (I have a sparse idea how diluc works, mention of "activities" (just mention I can't write smut pls), silly goofy ah loser coded men, mild swearing (damn, heck)

a/n: *stretching my back and crunching my neck.* I'm back from the dead. apologies for the choppy writing. thanks for the support on the other posts, if only I could write 50-page essays thanking everyone. <33 :')) not proofread.

DILUC 🍷

PRODUCT NAME: BREAKFAST AND KISSES IN BED. Diluc always hated the Knights of Favonius… 

He hated how most of them just stand around like buffoons and do not partake in any actual work that involves saving Mondstadt. He wouldn’t admit that he enjoys playing Batman. He hated them all except for one.

One he was willing to forgive all flaws of. "Knight of Favonius…always so inefficient,”  He scoffed at the pathetic sight of the hilichurls trying to dry roast a few knights roped to a wooden stick for their dinner. “Seriously, You’re so right Master Diluc.” Diluc’s head turned so fast at the sound of a new voice. When did you get here? Were you always there and how did he not sense you around?

That’s simply how you always were. A hard worker amidst slackers – he always termed despite Jean trying to explain that others work hard too. Perhaps that’s what caught his attention, honestly, he would never know what did. “G’morning…” He murmured against your skin, head buried in the crook of your neck, your flushed bare back pressed against him. “5 more minutes…” he heard your soft and groggy voice evoking a chuckle from the usually passive man. “Have I ever told you…how beautiful you are?” Diluc muttered against your skin. You smiled and turned around, “You always do. I remember my Dark-Knight Hero crying at the altar.” You pressed a finger against his chest, while he scoffed at the memory. “Don’t remind me about that, Kaeya doesn’t let me live that down…” He sighed, his brother consistently brought up the matter of him crying whenever he was losing an argument. Foul play if you ask anyone. “So…breakfast downstairs or in the bed?” He planted a kiss on your cheek while you hummed out a response, “Bed, you didn’t exactly go easy on me the previous night.” You recalled the events of the passionate night the day before. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end. “I am so sorry–” He panicked,” You're not in pain are you? I promise I’ll be gentle– I knew I should’ve been more considerat–” You stopped him by pressing a kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling of your soft lips touching his hands tangling themselves in your hair.

“I’m kidding silly… you should stop taking things so seriously unless you want me to start searching for grey hairs amidst those red locks of yours.” You snickered out seeing him release a breath of relief.

If the Darknight Hero really does exist, he's probably just someone in disguise. When he gets up in the morning to brush his teeth, it's the real him. He was his real him in front of you. People may call him a loser for such vulnerability…he was a loser for you.

ALHAITHAM 🌱

PRODUCT NAME: READING BOOKS OUT LOUD. One would say married to someone like Alhaitham was nothing short of a nightmare. They weren't 100% right. Shrouded beneath the aloof and meticulous personality resided someone who was in complete denial towards being loved. He loves it.

Who was he kidding? Nobody in a million years thought someone could put up with his insufferable personality — said Kaveh, his unpaying tenant. That was until he ran into you during his time as the newly appointed Scribe. You were like a painter, splashing heaps of paint in his 90s black-and-white life. Was eating ice cream always this enjoyable or was it because it was with you? Was the gossip between co-workers always this interesting or was it because it included you?

Why was his heart having an entire Queen’s rock and roll concert talking to you? Was it cardiac arrest or– He almost shuddered at the thought of it being what they called love.

“You’ve got flour on your face, sweetheart.” His teal eyes blinked amusingly into yours, a faint smile curling up his lips. You must have saved a nation in your previous life to land this man as your husband. Beige shirt perfectly sculpting around his abs – contrary to him calling himself “feeble,” hair slightly tousled and slight sleepiness in his eyes. He might not act like it but he was a little child whose needs had to be tended to like the coffee mug in his hands which you made, like usual. You wouldn’t want a cranky Alhaitham now, would you? “Hmpf, not my fault, this cooking book is completely bogus!” You rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand, wiping away any remaining flour. “This is so boring…if only someone could provide their poor wife with some entertainment.” You always resorted to theatrics to get him to do things for you, albeit begrudgingly. “No, the same tactic is not going to work again.” “Please…” “No…” He groaned, tone almost pleading not to put him through the torture again. “During better or worse!” You resorted to the ace up to your sleeve. WEDDING VOWS! “Stop quoting the wedding vows.” He sighed in defeat. The most intellectually gifted man in the nation couldn't win against his own wife. Ironical. He got up and grabbed a book out of the bookshelf; a small fraction of his much larger library.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Alhaitham lazily flipped through the pages earning a rebuke. “More emotion! You are ruining the scene.” Alhaitham sighed and cleared his throat, “I love you most ardently…” His tone was feathery soft, emotion surging in it. A smile crept up as he stared at you endearingly.

“That’s much better. Though I seriously think Mr Darcy should’ve said– Miss Elizabeth, allow me to kiseth thy lovely lips.” You mimicked the deep voice of the character with the failing British accent. “Please have mercy on Jane Austen’s ghost and let her enjoy the afterlife.” Alhaitham chuckled and continued reading as you continued baking.  It was a shame that a man of such talent only paid attention to the truth itself and not to the people around him. If only the searching eyes of the ordinary say the exception to his indifference, you.

This was your biosphere, just you, him, novels and food encapsulated inside your small home.

ZHONGLI 🪨

PRODUCT NAME: ALWAYS ON HIS MIND. What is the best but the most useless flex you have? Being married to the Geo Archon. The inability to just tell the whole world that you are married to the frigging god was painful. You yourself were surprised by your ability to control yourself. Zhongli was a man of carefully curated words. Instead of words, straight-up poetry flew out of his mouth. Everyone knew how much he adored his wife, every vendor, every acquaintance, heck even Venti. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's mysterious consultant. Handsome, elegant, and surpassingly learned. Excellent memory. A master of courtesy and rules. The amount of poor women who have tried to grab his attention. "Mr.Zhongli, how does this look?" the woman, who he remembered meeting over a history discussion 17 days ago. "Hm?" his amber eyes shifted to gaze at the hairpiece the lady was holding. "Most exquisite.." He remarked, seemingly going into deep thought. Instead of a compliment, he said something that made the woman back away, "Such beautiful craftsmanship...may I ask you to tell me where you found this? I wish to buy one for my wife–" he paused, seeing the lady vanished after pointing at the shop where she got it from. "Zhongli, you should be able to tell why people approach you..." Hutao sighed, standing beside the rather oblivious gentleman. "Let's just continue...we've got customers to find!" Hutao started walking alongside the railing, hoping to find people in need of funeral services. "Maybe we should go and ask peopl– Zhongli??" Hutao looked around for the Consultant, who was caught up chatting with a shopkeeper over some earrings. "Zhongli!" Hutao called out to him, causing his head to turn towards the director. "Oh, apologies...It seems I got too carried away. These earrings caught my eye...I'm sure [Name} would love them.." he mumbled, staring at the jewellery. "I'll take them." "Mister Zhongli? What about the payment..." The shopkeeper meekly asked, causing Zhongli to turn his head fully at Hutao; gazing expectantly. Hutao should've expected this... "Zhongli, we are out here to find customers! Not buying gifts for [Name], her birthday is months away!" "They say the best things should be done first. After all, why must I wait for one specific day to express my love for my beloved?" Zhongli asked curiously and Hutao shaked her head; love was clearly out of her expertise. Zhongli, he is particular about everything. He only attended the best operas and focused on the perfect ratio for the creation of an authentic dish.  On a typical day, all you will glean from him is a few pieces of useless trivia, because he particularly enjoys sharing these fun tidbits with you. He was particular about you and your likings. A smile on your face was what he wanted by the end of the day. For being someone alive for 6000 years, he could proudly say that he loved and cherished something– someone.

"Wait here, Director Hu...Perhaps I should get those flowers over there to accompany the hairpin and earrings..."

WRIOTHESLEY 🐺

PRODUCT NAME: BATTLE TO BUY A DOG OR NOT.

"Wriothesley, I want a dog!" You crossed your arms, staring down at the Duke who was glued to the chair in his office. “But why? That’s just unnecessary responsibility…” Wriothesley sighed, rubbing his temples. This was the 3rd time this month you’ve brought up this topic. Was he that incompetent in terms of filling his role as your significant other? Perhaps not with the never-ending paperwork. Oh, how he wished people would just stop committing crimes. “I get lonely in the Fortress…I want a child.” You put forth your point by using the term ’ child’. Child, dog same thing. You hoped to finally convince him this time.

“We have Sigewinne.” Wriothesley pointed at the head nurse prepping tea in the room with the back of his pen. “I am sorry, Your Grace but playing the role of the child is out of my job description.” The Melusine replied indifferently, pouring freshly seeped tea into the three cups. “Fine, we will go get one…I’ll schedule a meeting with the owner of the pet shelter. Happy?” He asked you, chin resting on his palm. Perhaps getting a dog was a good idea as he was guilty of being unable to spend quality time with you… “No way…” “Isn’t that..?” “The Duke of the Meropide–” “He rarely appears in public..” Wriothesley held out the door to the shelter for you, hoping you would go in and it would finally save him from the gaze of curious onlookers. The two of you walked in, only to be pounced upon by a big dog. “Kal! You sly dog! I knew I shouldn’t have let you out!” The caretaker yelled at the big ball of black fur who had tackled Wriothesley to the floor and was aggressively licking his face, tail wagging in delight. “Are you okay?” You asked your fallen husband, who just chuckled in response. “I am good just– Okay stop! I understand your gesture of love.” Wriothesley got up as the dog encircled him. “This one is so adorable…” you gasped at the cuteness radiating from the dog and its big brown eyes. “You’ve got a keen eye! This is Kal, Shiloh Shepard, one of the finest dogs out there.” The caretaker combed her fingers through the thick and groomed black coat of the canine. “He seems to have taken a liking to the Duke.” The caretaker continued as the dog ran back to Wriothesley, peppering his face with licks. “He even looks like you.” You teased as Wriothesley stared at you in disbelief. You did not just compare him to a dog…he even did a double take at the dog to confirm. “We will take this one then…” He chuckled in amusement. Never had he imagined marrying you and on top of that getting a four-legged beast. Needless to say, Wriothesley proudly walked out of the shelter, holding the big dog in his hands like a child. It felt complete ever since getting Kal; like your own little family. Wriothesley wouldn’t admit it but he loved the dog, despite it hogging all of your love and attention. He didn’t expect to be fighting over cuddling rights with a dog!? 

He watched you and Kal sleep peacefully on the couch, keeping him company while he finished up his work. He felt a sense of gratitude…people of the Fortress knew little of the crime he once committed. The only one who still remembers it like yesterday is Wriothesley himself. And no matter how much glory or repute he has earned, he still considers himself to be the same old Wriothesley he's always known.Neither a good person nor a complete villain. He's just another soul, still living on in this world. However, your eyes always reassured him in ways he couldn’t describe. Everything was perfect…

[Name]!! YOURDAMN DOG PISSED ON MY COAT!! Maybe not that perfect…whoops.

NEUVILLETTE 🌊

PRODUCT NAME: HELPING THE OTHER DRESS.

Monsieur Neuvillette, The Iudex of Fontaine, always wondered how his life had come to this. 500 years of serving his position as the Beacon of Justice, a lovely, beaming baker somehow broke the monotony. Well, calling you just a baker was now an insult. With your ring finger bejewelled, with one of the rarest gems– an ode to his undying loyalty and representation of his eternal love. “It’s astounding how a covert mission conducted by melusines could’ve landed someone such as myself a lady like her…” He muttered to himself, seeing his full form in the mirror. “Talking to yourself, again?” You leaned against the door frame, lopsidedly smiling at the peculiar antics of Fontaine’s most distinguished man. “Ah, apologies…I didn’t think you would notice me conversing with myself. Now I find myself in a rather awkward predicament.” He chuckled. Dear god, this man was so beautiful that his beauty was almost blinding with the morning sun perfectly hitting his face.

“Say ah,” You requested and he complied. Who better to take constructive criticism from other than your husband? “New filling?” He covered his mouth while chewing on the croissant. “Yup, how is it? I was experimenting with some Rainbow Roses and these Inazuman berries I bought.” You blinked curiously, waiting for some input. “Hmm it is very pleasant, it is fascinating how you manage to maintain the freshness of the fruit…” You smiled at his compliment, before noticing him struggling with the jabot around his neck. “Need help?” You offered and he nodded his head. “This is absurd..it usually isn’t this difficult.” He frustrated replied, it was amusing to see the cool and collected man all worked up about clothing. “I suggest simplifying your outfit.” You attached the jabot and secured it in with the teardrop brooch, fixing the ruffles. 

“Thank you. I do prefer my outfit as it conveys the message I wish for it to convey.” He explained before staring at you. You knew that look, he looked at you with his eyebrows slightly creased when he was hesitating from saying something. “What is it?” “Do I get a goodbye kiss before I leave?” “Pfft! I didn’t think you would take that seriously!” Conclusion: this man was wayyy to cute.

Neuvillette is a solitary person. Neuvillette is not known for his personal desires.

He was deemed as someone with unassailable impartiality. If only they knew that perhaps the Iudex was just a wee bit biased.

a/n 2.0: the crust will come off...hopefully. i wonder if it's possible to guess which one of them is my favourite??

don't steal, copy, plagiarise, or translate.

©definitelysel

[antiquarianfics]

Accidental pt. 2

What happens when you accidentally kidnap the exact man you were looking for?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

warning(s): canon level violence, kidnapping, profanity

a/n: the comments on the last pt. were so affirming, omg. thanks, guys. anyway, here's a second part. ig the same idea stands: if this does well, maybe i'll do a pt. 3?

part 1

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

"You're looking for a man by the name of Barnes, James Barnes. He's the owner of the bar you took me from, and he's the head of the Barnes Family. He'll have the answers you're looking for."

"Where can I find him?"

The man grins, a dashing smile.

“I’m right here, Doll.”

—

Somehow, against your instincts, you manage not to take a step back. You keep your feet planted in front of the man, eye twitching a little, jaw clenching.

“You’re James Barnes?” You say, voice devoid of any real emotion.

“Disappointed? Looking for someone less handsome?” He shoots you a cheeky grin.

You scoff. “More like I wasn’t expecting to kidnap a mob boss.”

James laughs, a genuine laugh. “No, I bet you weren’t. However, I do have to say, I’m impressed. Not just anyone can take me by surprise.”

“How long?” You ask, ignoring his praise.

“What?” He raises an eyebrow.

“How long until your men come looking for you? I expected more time, but with you being in charge…” You trail off.

“Ah, yes.” He glances down at the very expensive watch on his wrist. “Well, if it’s 11 now, I’d say… ah. 7 hours before anyone notices.”

You raise an eyebrow. “That long? Really? Are you sure you’re important?”

He grins at you, a dashing grin. You shake your head slightly. You shouldn’t be thinking about his smile right now--you shouldn't be teasing him.

“Very. But my people know not to bother me at night. What I do on my own time is my business. You’re in the clear as long as I show up on time to my meeting. If I’m not there... Well, then people begin to worry.”

You let out an involuntary laugh. “In the clear? You're telling me I’m going to get away with kidnapping you? Actually, don't answer that. You're baiting me, and distracting me. I need answers. Back to my sister. Where is she?"

"I was wondering if you'd forgotten about that."

"Answer the question," you say, stepping forward and putting your knife back up against his throat. It seems to do the trick.

James' face grows serious, as if the man in front of you was no longer playing around with you and had switched into his regular business persona.

"She's alive."

You let out a relieved breath. Alive is something. Alive is good.

"Where are you keeping her?"

"Well, doll, I can't just tell you that."

"Sure you can," you say, repeating your words from earlier.

He smirks, "Why don't you just take the knife away from my throat first? I'm precious goods."

You roll your eyes at him, but you pull the knife away. You hold the knife up to him as if to say I will pull this out again and set it down on the table a few feet away, and as you turn around, you pull a chair from the same table up to James, placing it right in front of him. You sit, an expectant look upon your face.

"Look, doll, why don't you just go ahead and untie me now that you've put that knife away, and we can have a friendly talk about this?" He asks.

You scoff, yet again. This man, you think, is insufferable.

"Try again, pretty boy."

"So you think I'm pretty?" He smirks.

"I think you're annoying, and I think you know where my sister is. So, how about you stop wasting my time and tell me what I want to know?"

He sighs dramatically and lets his head roll to the side as if he's bored before lifting it to look you directly in the eye.

"Like I said before, she owed me something she couldn't repay."

"What's that?"

"That information's gonna cost you, sweetheart."

"You're in no position to be negotiating right now," you say indignantly.

"Sure I am. Don't forget I'm the most powerful man in Brooklyn."

"Don't forget you're tied up and I have a gun."

"You wouldn't shoot me."

"Fucking try me, doll."

He laughs, a real, genuine laugh. "Agree to my terms, sweetheart, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."

You huff. "What are your terms?"

"'Atta girl!" He exclaims cheerily.

You grab your pistol from its holster at your side and aim it at the man in front of you, resting the gun on your thigh. He glances down at it before raising his gaze back up to you. He clears his throat, but something tells you it's not because he is nervous.

"Go on a date with me."

Your eyebrows shoot up. He's joking, you think. A date?

"A date?"

"A date."

"You want to go on a date with the woman who knocked you out, dragged you to an unknown location, tied you up, is demanding information from you, and is currently pointing a gun at you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I have my reasons."

"How do I know you won't just kill me when I show up?"

"Because that wouldn't be very gentleman like of me. My mama raised me better."

"You're a mob boss. You extort and kill people for a living."

He shrugs. "Well, what do you say? Do we have a deal?"

"No," you say.

"No?" He asks, confused.

"I have my own conditions." James tilts his head slightly as a signal to go on.

"You've already confirmed that my sister is alive which confirms you have her locked up somewhere. You will let her go and forgive her debt for whatever the hell it is that she owes you. Do that and once she is safely at home and I've laid eyes on her, you can have that date. Do we have a deal?"

James is staring at you, and as much as you hate it, you can't read him. Your heart is pounding, and you're hoping, praying even, that you've not pushed too far.

"Deal."

You blink once, twice before it registers that he has accepted the deal. Damn, you think, he really wants that date.

"Have her home by... What time was your meeting again? 7? Have her home safely by 7 tomorrow," you say, standing up from where you sat in front of him. You begin to move around the basement, picking up your things that you had brought with you in the whole kidnapping ordeal. Once you've collected your things, you start walking towards the stairs to leave. "If she isn't there, the deal's off."

"You're just going to leave me here?" James asks, pulling at his arm restraints.

You look over your shoulder at him and smile at him. "You're a mob boss, doll, I'm sure you'll get out of there in time." Then, with that, you ascend the stairs.

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

@cjand10 @vicmc624 @mostlymarvelgirl @livingoutsidethetardis

[daycourtofficial]

We’re Bumping Booties, Having Us a Ball

Summary: Nesta and Azriel are suspicious of you and Cassian spending so much time together.

It was unusual for Nesta to speak individually to Azriel. This might be the first time she’s ever sought him out to have a discussion, and frankly, it slightly terrified him.

She approached him, and after looking around for wandering ears, deeming it safe to speak, she asked “have you noticed something different between our mates?”

Azriel blinked. He had no idea what he expected Nesta to talk to him about, but it certainly wasn’t about you and Cassian.

“What are you talking about?” He asks, genuinely curious.

“They’ve been spending a lot of time together lately,” she huffs, clearly annoyed he doesn’t see what she does.

“We all spend an absurd amount of time together, Nesta,” he replies.

She rolls her eyes, “why she wants to be with you is beyond me, you insufferable bat. Okay, fine, maybe I’m making it up. Next time we’re all together at Rita’s, just pay attention to them.”

And so he did. He noticed you and Cassian conspiring over something, he just wasn’t sure what. You didn’t spend the whole time with Cassian, just whenever Azriel went to get you more drinks, you’d immediately start speaking to Cass and your conversation would conveniently end when Azriel returned.

He didn’t think anything nefarious was going on. You two had been mates for ages, before Cassian ever even met Nesta. You and Cassian had a friendship best described as siblings - honestly seeing his brother love you so much warmed his heart.

So he wasn’t worried you were doing anything scandalous with Cassian, but he knew when you were conspiring, and oh were you conspiring.

The next time Azriel gets up for drinks, he stops by Nesta and tells her, “they’re up to something. Let’s find out what.”

-

It didn’t take long for them to catch a hint that you and Cassian had plans. Two nights later, Cassian told Nesta that he had to drop his leathers off to get patched, and you told Azriel you were going to a cobbler to have your shoes fixed.

Nesta and Azriel met in the hallway after their respective mates had left. “She told me she had a cobbler to visit - at 9 PM.” Azriel knew you were much better at crafting lies than that - he likes to think you have a hard time lying to him. And you do.

“He muttered something about getting his leathers repatched.” Nesta scowled.

Azriel just stared at her, honestly shocked at this mission they’re embarking on.

A few minutes of silence pass. Nesta feels compelled to break it, unsure of what they’re waiting for, before a few shadows come back and dance slowly around Azriel’s ears.

“They’re on the roof.”

-

“Okay, put your hand here. Do it like this. No, you have to put your hips into it. OW! That was my foot!”

Azriel and Nesta crept up to the door to the rooftop - a flat area designed to entertain guests and occasionally watch Starfall. Hardly anyone used the rooftop during the year, especially not during the winter when it’s freezing up there.

Nesta and Azriel can hear you way before they see the two of you, sharing a quizical look when they hear you muttering explitives about your foot.

“Can you see anything?” Nesta whispers.

“No, we can peak around the corner though,” Azriel replies, starting to crouch to peer around the corner.

He and Nesta peer around the corner at the same time, the sight being even more surprising than if their mates were cheating on them.

“Are they..?” Nesta asks.

“Dancing.” Azriel says.

“She’s dancing, he’s doing… something. But it’s not dancing.”

They continue to watch the two of you for a while, amazed at your patience with teaching Cassian how to dance. You’re being exceptionally kind and patient with him, taking time to help him practice, despite the pleas from your toes to have him stop.

“She’s teaching him to dance, he’s never been good at formal dancing,” Azriel whispers to Nesta, an idea of why you’d be doing this forming in his mind.

“Cassian wants to know how to dance?” Nesta asks, confusion evident across her face. Azriel turns to look at her, amusement across his face, “Why do you think he’d want to learn to dance when he’s never been interested in doing more than dancing at Rita’s before?”

Realization dawns across her face, “he wants to dance with me.” She says quietly. She continues to stare at her mate, in awe of how incredibly sweet this gesture is, and a little upset that he went to you to teach him how to dance instead of her.

“Okay, I’m calling it. I’ve spun you around enough tonight. I want to go to bed.”

Cassian’s voice breaks Nesta train of thought. She grabs Azriel’s arm, almost making him fall over with how hard she’s trying to get them to move. “We need to go - he’d be devastated if we ruined his surprise.”

Nesta and Azriel hurry down the stairs, back down to the hallway where they met each other thirty minutes earlier.

“So, Nesta,” Azriel says, very amused at his brother’s surprise, “how do you feel about their little secret?”

Nesta sighs and says quietly, “that I have an incredibly thoughtful mate and I almost ruined his surprise due to some jealousy.”

“Good,” Azriel replies, “and that I have an incredibly kind mate who loves the two of you greatly.”

Azriel left Nesta to consider that, and when you returned to your shared room smelling briefly of Cassian, he chuckled to himself and offered to rub your feet while you two take a bath.

Azriel waits until Starfall, when Cassian takes Nesta on the dance floor for a while, looking pretty decent, to tell you, “hmm, someone looks like he’s finally figured out how to dance.”

Your eyes snap to his face, “He must have had a wonderful teacher.” Azriel’s mischievous smile tells you that he knows just who Cassian’s teacher was.

“I wonder if his teacher’s available to show me some moves,” he says, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer.

“I heard she’s booked for months. She’s very hard to get in to see,” you reply, placing your hand on his jaw.

“You think she’d make a special exception for me?” He says, giving you an incredibly pitiful look.

“I think I can get her to pencil you in,” you reply, grabbing his face and kissing him.

[mattyriddlegf]

The stupid closet (1)

Hello everyone! I have been working on this Mattheo Riddle story since August and am so excited to finally share this with you all. This story is my baby and is so special to me and will be multiple chapters so buckle up and get ready for some steamy romance and drama ;)

I will be releasing (hopefully) every week on Sunday but we'll see how it works out and how you guys like this!

*this story will feature NSFW content*

-----------

“Fuck you Riddle” You flip off Mattheo as you sit down quickly next to Draco at dinner. You had been at school for almost a week already and he was as insufferable as ever.

You both knew how to push each other’s buttons and it was so fun…sometimes. So much teasing and bickering had happened throughout the years between you two and it was finally your last year at Hogwarts.

Mattheo sits down across the table from you, his jaw clenching.

“What’re you wearing to the party tonight?” Pansy asks, taking a seat on the other side of Draco. 

“Oh it’s a dress I bought over the summer” You smile gently, popping a grape in your mouth. Theo looked across the table and smirked just a little. You guys had been friends with benefits for the past year but had never put any other labels on it.

Only one person knew about this secret relationship…Mattheo. He had accidentally walked in on you and Theo one time and ever since then he loved teasing you about it.

“I’m sure Theo will love it” Mattheo retorts before Theo knocks him over the head. 

“Shut the fuck up” Theo adds. Mattheo looks up smirking. He looks right at you with those big doe brown eyes. The fact that they were attached to him made them not so appealing though. 

After a few moments, you break eye contact, looking down at the food in front of you. For some reason, eye contact with Mattheo always lingered longer than it should.

“Well I don’t know about anyone else but I plan on getting fucked up tonight” Pansy mentions. Since it was the first weekend after classes, Slytherin was throwing a house party. Last weekend was the entire school, this week it was just your house. These parties were honestly way more fun.

“Me too,” you reply. You and Theo hadn’t hooked up since when he visited over the summer holiday. Not that it should bother you but you wondered why he hadn’t wanted to since. You guys had gone at it like bunny rabbits last semester and now? It felt like he was avoiding you.

Dinner went on as normal, Draco bickering with everyone around him (even you, his closest friend) and Pansy was handsy with him the whole time while talking about beginning of the year gossip…typical. 

You walk back to the Slytherin house with the group, separating ways to go back to your shared dorm with Pansy. 

You both start getting ready, doing makeup first. While you opted for a light, subtle look, Pansy opted for a more full-face look. She was fully convinced that Draco was going to make his move on her after all of these years. While you knew it wasn’t going to happen, you didn’t want to break her spirit.

You slip on a short silk slip black dress, pulling your hair up in a messy, high ponytail and strapping on simple black heels. A simple look but it made you feel so good about yourself. You were going to hook up with Theo tonight. 

You hear a knock at the door so you open it, only to see Blaise, “Hey uh the group is gonna mingle for a bit and then break off in Theo and Mattheo’s dorm for some games”

“Oh…ok. Thanks Blaise.” You smile, shutting the door behind you. There goes your plan to hook up with Theo, there was no way it was going to happen if the whole group was together.

Slightly annoyed, you leave your dorm first, Pansy following suit a few minutes later. You instantly head for the liquor table taking a shot. You were determined to figure out a way to sleep with Theo regardless.

“This one is actually kinda boring” You hear Draco behind you.

“It is…” You say pouring another shot, “Has Pansy found you yet?”

“Instantly but I told her she had lipstick on her teeth so she went back to fix it” Draco smiles.

“And did she?”

“Of course not.” You both laugh. As much as you loved Pansy, Draco was your best friend. You had spent every summer together since you were both 6 years old. Your parents were very close with each other, the next generation also bonding. Of course when Theo visited over the summer, he had to lie and say it was to see both of you. You had the feeling Draco knew but neither of you had ever brought it up.

Mattheo walks up behind you, grabbing a liquor bottle around you, “This party is lame as fuck, wanna split now?”

“Yes.” Theo chimes in, walking up as you turn around to reply to Mattheo.

“Oh looks like lover boy can’t wait to get his hands on you” Mattheo whispers just loud enough for you to hear. You stare up at him, before nudging him in the arm as you walk away. It was always those little comments that made you want to kill Mattheo.

Theo and Draco find Pansy, Blaise, and Daphne before heading up to the boys’ dorm. While this group always bickered, they were your family and you loved them as such. You did however still have the hope that you and Theo would be able to break off alone at some point.

You all sit in a circle, setting an empty bottle in the middle. Spin the bottle, how cute.

“Ok we’re playing spin the bottle but whoever it lands on, is spending seven minutes in heaven with the spinner. Got it?” Blaise asks. The entire time he explained the rules, you stared daggers at Mattheo, him looking at you again with those big doe eyes, acting completely innocent and unaware.

“This is so juvenile” You speak up as you roll your eyes.

“Well then, it’s your turn first” Draco smirks. 

You smirk back sarcastically, annoyed before spinning the bottle. The bottle spins for a good few seconds. You were desperately hoping it would stop at Theo as it slowed down but the bottle ended facing directly at Mattheo.

“Absolutely not.” You say. You were not about to go into a closet with Mattheo Riddle for seven minutes.

“Rules are rules, time to pucker up” Blaise says. Everyone in the circle whoops and hollers as you both stand up and start walking into the closet.

“I hate all of you” You say, flipping them the middle finger as Mattheo closes the closet door behind him.

The closet was small, causing you two to be touching. It was dark, only the light coming from the bottom of the door seeping in.

“I don’t know what they expect” Mattheo scuffs. 

“I do but it’s never going to happen.” You look up to him, your faces only inches apart.

“No, never.” He shook his head ever so slightly. You were so close to him you could smell the combination of liquor and cigarettes on his breath. You actually didn’t mind it as much as you thought you would.

You stared into each other's eyes for a moment before you blurted out, “I mean…it won’t mean anything right?” Your noses are practically touching by now. The sexual tension lingering in this small space was suffocating.

“Right.” Mattheo breathes out. You two finally connect lips. The kiss was slow and passionate. Mattheo set one of his hands on your waist, the other on the back of your head.

You break away just for a moment, “It’s just for the game” You mutter out between kisses. The make out session was heating up, both of you grabbing for different parts of each other. It was like you both wanted more. You both needed more.

Just as you're about to jump up and wrap your legs around his waist, the door is opened. The two of you back away from each other, you instantly looking out to see Theo watching. Mattheo walks out of the closet and straight out of the door, leaving the dorm without saying a word. You look over to Pansy who had opened the door and was currently standing there, eyes bugged out of her head. 

“Holy shit” Draco blurts out. Everyone in the room was shocked, nobody in the group butted heads more than you and Mattheo. 

“I have to go…” You mutter. You walk to the door, Theo following you out to the hallway.

Theo grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks, “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine. I just need some fresh air.” You say. You could not believe that Theo caught you kissing someone else, let alone Mattheo Riddle. Theo furrows his eyebrows, “Seriously, I’m fine Theo. I’ll be back in a bit, ok?” You say more genuinely than the first time.

“Ok just…we’ll talk about it later yeah?” 

“Sure.”

You walk back to your dorm, changing into Draco’s sweatshirt and your own flannel shorts before opening the window and sitting in the window sill.

God you’re so stupid! Mattheo? Really?

Your mind was racing. You only did it for the game, right? You had to.

But then why did you still feel his kiss on your lips and why did you not mind it? There had to be an explanation. Mattheo was not who you wanted. You wanted Theo…right?

[wonysugar]

it’s so over for me…. ch. 22

i’m going first! (fully written)

word count : 1.5k

okay.

okay!

don’t panic aeri, she thought, yeah, you’re in y/n’s bathroom, whatever, right? like, who genuinely cares, not you, that’s for sure. you’re like super nonchalant and wanted by literally everyone, remember? you know people would die to have you over at their house.

so why the fuck are you freaking out???

no seriously, why was she feeling like this? she’s had sex plenty of times before, and she’s probably gonna be having plenty of sex in the near future, too. so why the hell was she acting like a virgin loser that’s never seen a naked body before?? 

once you made her understand what “staying the night” entailed by kissing her lips and having your hands roam her body, passionate and hungry for more, she, very quickly, started panicking and thinking about how to escape this situation. i mean, it’s not like she wanted to leave, but when your cheeks resemble literal tomatoes, you kinda need to take a little break from the situation to not make yourself look ridiculous.

she splashed an absurd amount of water onto her bare face as an attempt to calm the fuck down, also mentally slapping herself as she stared at herself in the mirror. fuck, she just realized that she totally forgot to put on makeup? it was embarrassing, but, upon seeing that she had a date with you, she kinda just dressed up and left her dorm at full speed. look, she had priorities.

wait, she remembered, were the lights of her room even turned off???

oh who cares at this point. what mattered right now is that she was in your bathroom, stalling and panicking over this entire thing, for no reason, and she didn’t quite know what to do. she thought some more, then remembered an important detail; her friends specifically told her not to make it a sex thing, and that’s exactly what made it so complicated in the first place. she actually liked you, way too much for her own good, and she didn’t just want to be fuckbuddies.

she wanted to try to be so much more than that.

yeah love scared her, it terrified her, even, especially after… that whole situation. but.. whatever it was that she felt around you, she so desperately wanted it to work out, at least a little bit. it was pathetic, and deep down, she hated herself for feeling this way towards you. she was always so desperate for your attention that.. the truth is, since she was always being a huge insufferable bitch to you, she didn’t expect to get this attached to you in the process, especially not in such a short amount of time, either. she had no clue what she felt towards you. but if one thing was for sure, though,

sex was always easier when there were no strings attached, she knew that better than anyone. 

god, what the fuck was she doing.

aeri sighed, then placed her hand on the doorknob, not knowing what to expect once she opened the door. were you gonna be like… butt naked? god, she hoped not. well— okay let’s not lie to ourselves, she did, she was just.. y’know, scared of how she would potentially react.

she bit her lip in defeat upon realizing that she’d probably faint at the mere sight of a naked y/n, visualizing your body and feeling her palms get sweatier by the second.

okay! enough thinking, you were probably impatiently waiting for her behind that damn door.

she took a moment to compose herself, closing her eyes and taking a deep and long breath, before eventually turning the doorknob, getting mentally prepared for anything.

she quickly opened the bathroom door and–

oh.

you were laying there, 

asleep. 

aeri unconsciously sighed in relief, thankful for not having to act nonchalant to save her own dignity like she usually does. 

she slowly walked up to your bed, not even realizing that she was smiling warmly as she watched you, your chest gently heaving up and down as you peacefully rested. it’s like she was hypnotized by you, you occupied all of her thoughts almost immediately just with a single look. god, you were so beautiful without even trying, she thought. 

that is, before she snapped herself out of it and went back to tucking you in, shoving her feelings back into the mental box they were usually in as she took off your glasses, the ones she personally found adorable, and gently placed them on the nightlight next to you.

once she was done, she quietly headed for the exit, as she didn’t wanna disturb you in your sleep. 

unless she kinda did?

looking back at you and the empty space next to you, she contemplated some more.

you drove here aeri, she thought to herself, it’s not like you’re in the perfect state to drive back, you’re pretty fucking tired.

and your bed looked comfy as hell, too.

ugh, but then again, was she seriously gonna cuddle up to you like this? what if you woke up the next morning and got the ick from it.. hm?? then what, aeri, hm???

she sighed and shrugged off the ‘stupid’ idea, trying to recall why she even thought of it in the first place as she reached for the door, but before she could even place her hand on the doorknob,

“stop staring at me like a weirdo and just get over here, dumbass.” 

she jumped, ignoring the fact that hearing your sleepy voice definitely made her heart skip a beat, then looked back at you, uncertainty coating her entire face.

“are— are you sure?” she hesitantly asked, before mumbling something else under her breath, “also i wasn’t staring at you i was simply pondering on things not too much—“ which you didn’t catch, thankfully.

you definitely would’ve teased her for it.

instead, you simply nodded in response as you yawned, rubbing your eyes in a sleepy manner. 

well shit! 

why were you so cute all the fucking time?? it truly annoyed her on a psychological level how you could just be breathing and she’d be on the floor sobbing about it to her friends.

the only option she had left now was prayer; praying that she wasn’t gonna cling onto you for the entire night.

-

“aeri, wake up.” you whispered, nudging her gently in the process. you also lifted up the blanket a tiny bit, in hopes of getting her to be cold enough to finally leave dreamland and wake up. i mean, to be honest? you couldn’t really blame her, you guys slept at like, what? 5 am? no wonder she was knocked out and snoring loudly.

you watched her as she quietly mumbled in her sleep, her hair messy, her eyes closed peacefully, her makeup running everywhere, her cheek squished onto the pillow from being a side-sleeper. you caught yourself smiling.

she was really pretty.

you could’ve stared at her for hours, but you unfortunately didn’t; you really needed to get to class, and you absolutely could not leave your apartment in this much of a mess. so, naturally, you tried waking her up some more.

which.. magically worked!

drowsy, she rubbed her eyes. “y/n?”

you smiled tenderly as you stood back up, putting your hands on your waist. “good morning!” 

in response to your enthusiasm, she looked around in a confused manner, eyes set on the empty spot next to her in your bed. her eyes widen suddenly, and she looks up at you.

“did…” she paused nervously, swallowing her saliva, then continuing with, “nothing happened… right?”

you giggled, “you did spoon me throughout the whole night, if that’s what you wanna know.” you heard her immediately exhale, probably from relief. so preoccupied by the fact that she might’ve made it a sex thing that she didn’t even realize how embarrassing that whole spooning thing actually was.

she sat up and mumbled, checking her phone for a few minutes and looking at the time. you particularly noticed her wallpaper when walking to the side of the bed to retrieve your laundry basket, it was a black wallpaper with a medium sized white heart. 

it wasn’t a surprise, every single one of her socials mentioned hearts. 

you quietly scoffed, keeping that information stored in your head, for later on.

“fuck??” she turned to look at you, met with your startled gaze, “we have class today, don’t we???” she asked. 

“yeah? in like an hour—“

she stood up suddenly, throwing her phone on the bed, “y/n, i look a mess. oh my god i haven’t even showered, my schedule’s at home, i didn’t even bring any of my clothes—“

“hey,” you exclaimed in order to get her attention back on you, which worked instantly, “chill out, you can borrow some of my clothes for today.” still holding the basket, you added, “as for the shower, just go in after me.”

she nodded her head, up until that last part.

“how long are you gonna take in the shower??” she asked, turning to look at you.

“…like, 40 minutes?” 

“uhm??” eyes widened, she scoffed, “you’re not going first then.” 

you could only laugh at her, “last time i checked, this was my house, aeri.”

“and i’m your guest, so now what?”

you stared, pretending to reflect long and hard about it, then spoke up,

“i’m still going first.” 

“you’re delusional if you think you’re the one showering first.”

prev | masterlist | next

taglist : closed!

@livelaughchoerry @frenchyypoo @ilovechanhee @beawolfbealionbeyou @jeindall777 @haerinfangs @rdfgfv @wygism @kimsgayness @mightymyo @vex91 @ryublog @yerisdumbass @soon2berock @ddeulgiheree @kyaitosz @deong @haerinkisser @victio @imahallucination11 @wintersera @winteresss @pandafuriosa60 @astrojeezus @hyehae @manooffline @waevrs @baebeefyburrito @rosiehrs @luvvsnae @technicallyimportantsweets @silentreader98 @haechansbbg @channiesprincess @planethyuka @augustcnry @rinapomu @fayeforrosie @idunnofr @lightful23 @justaharmlesspotat0 @shotaroswifeyily @multiliker @badasgirl @jaemoris @earl059ph @realrintaro

[thetriplets3]

"you never have to worry about me leaving" w matt?

like, reader had just gotten into it w her parents and they said something along the lines of, "you're unlovable, just wait till that little boyfriend of yours leaves." or smth like that

please and thank you !! 😊😊

❝𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠❞

again i hope this makes sense and that it’s what you wanted

warnings: bad relationship with parents arguing with parents, negative thoughts, relationship doubts, i think that’s all

my parents and i have never seen eye to eye on things, they constantly find things to start arguments about but they never go this far or personal.

“you’re insufferable how does that boyfriend of yours deal with you? you’re exhausting to be around i’m shocked he hasn’t left you yet it’s only a matter of time!” my parents yell, faces red with anger.

this has gone on for so long i don’t even know why they started yelling in the first place, i just zoned out, my thoughts wandering to their words.

how could my parents say that to me? if i’m so insufferable and unloveable to be around why am i even here? am i that much of a burden on everyone? why does anyone keep me around? they probably just feel bad for me. does matt even love me or is it pity? is he just playing me? when will he leave me? why hasn’t he yet?

without thinking i quickly stood up and made my way to my car not even thinking to put shoes on, my mind solely focused on getting out of here. silently i drive to matt’s house, no music, no tears, no thoughts just feeling numb.

i could see matt watching me as i sit in my car with my head slumped against the steering wheel trying to collect myself before going inside. he never left his window, sensing something was wrong he allowed me space to come in when i was ready to.

getting out of the car i let out a sigh and take a deep breath of fresh air in as i make my way to their apartment, letting myself in. giving nick and chris who were in the living room a small hello i headed straight for matt’s room. softly i knock on his door waiting for permission to enter.

“come in baby” he calls out.

he had closed the blinds and turned on his LED lights to blue, knowing i prefer softer lights. he was sitting in bed with his back against the headboard, duvet pulled back, and arms open ready for me to crawl into.

“i’m glad you’re here, i missed you, love. i was gonna text you to see if you wanted to come over and cuddle you must have read my mind” he said, keeping his volume low to match to softness in the room.

with my head on his chest i stayed quiet not know what to say or how to bring it up. he knows about the arguments with my parents but he doesn’t know how intense they’ve gotten and i’m scared to tell him in fear that what they said will be true. he feels my breaths becoming fast and shaky as tears start falling. opting to calm me down instead of forcing me to talk, he runs his fingers delicately up and down my back for a bit before settling in my hair gently massaging it.

“you don’t have to tell me anything. i just need you to calm down you’ll make yourself sick sweetheart” he reassures, taking deep breaths himself, encouraging me to match his breathing as he whispers gentle encouragements in my ear.

this goes on for quite a while before i feel calm enough to tell him what happened.

in the quietest voice i explain what they said, “i don’t even know what i did to make them start yelling at me in the first but they said i’m insufferable and exhausting to be around and they don’t know how you put up with me and they’re shocked you haven’t left me yet” i take a shaky breath. “why are you even with me why haven’t you left me already?” tears pool in my eyes.

“hey hey it’s okay, breath baby. i’m happy you feel safe with me to tell me that” he sits up straighter and pulls me to sit on his lap so we’re face to face. “you are not insufferable and you are not exhausting to be around. you’re the complete opposite i can’t spend a second without you and when i do you’re all i think about. i’m with you because i love you, i love the way you care for people, how gentle you are, how giddy you get when you pass a dog on the street. there’s nothing not to love about you. i’ll spend the rest of my life showing you you deserve to be loved. you never have to worry about me leaving. i’m in it for the long run your stuck with me”

“thank you matt. i’m sorry i questioned our love for me. i love you baby i’m glad you’re here, forever”

“i love you sweet girl, get some rest i’m never leaving”

taglist: @antisocialties @iluvmatt @dwntwn-strnlo @fake-coolbeans @opheliaofficial07 @angelcake-222 @oneirophobic @strniolo @lollibumblebee @ssturniolo @20nugs @abbie13sworld @strniolo @luvsturniolo

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

BENEATH MILES OF STONE. XXII ;

❛ chapter map. ❛ John Wick x Fat fem reader. ❛ TW: nsfw. ❛ divider by saradika.

Fear gets her between them faster than she usually can be; she wedges herself into the gap and pushes Michael back.

John barely flinches at the contact with a palm he wasn’t expecting. He reaches for Michael, but stops when she attempts to shove him away with her own weight. The apparent look of anger on his face, comically garnished with flour, not at her but behind, toward her friend, puts her pulse in her ears. The world sways a bit as Michael tries to get past her. She holds firm, using the width of her body to block him off.

“Why are you protecting him?!” Michael demands. “He fucking kidnapped you!”

She and John both grit their teeth at the same time. “I’m not protecting him,” she hisses, looking directly at John but addressing Michael when she says this, terrified for her valiant friend’s life.

John stares at her, eyes narrowed. She stares back defiantly, skin burning and heart rate fast with anticipation. It’s stupid to stand between him and something he wants to maim, but the fact that he doesn’t already have Michael’s neck in his hands is testament that he doesn’t actually want to hurt him… not badly, at least. This calms her down, but she stays firm, blocking Michael from getting at John and vice versa.

Michael rolls his eyes. “I’m so scared.” His tone is mocking.

“Michael, please stop,” she pleads, “I don’t want you to die today, okay?”

Michael snorts and glares at John above her head.

John eyes him for a moment, upper lip twitching from annoyance so subtly that anyone who didn’t really like to look at his face wouldn’t notice.

“What is he doing to you that you’re so afraid of him?” Michael is now suspicious.

She slaps her head into her palm, sighing, and decides to try and mediate with words rather than her body. “He was keeping me safe, Michael. Something happened and I was being stupid for trying to leave.”

Michael sizes him up, and John almost grins. “Uh-huh.”

She opens her mouth, but John answers for her. “Michael?” His voice is calm, which only serves to poke her adrenaline higher.

“John,” Michael replies, spitting the name out better than any high school mean girl ever could.

She interjects. “John,” voice trembling, “This is Michael, he’s my roommate.”

“Hello Michael.”

“Heyyy,” Michael’s voice is laced with disgust.

“Do not hurt him,” she tells John.

Michael rolls his eyes, John rolls his jaw.

Tension sizzles hot, beading sweat on her neck, and she attempts with her softest, pleading-ist voice: “Can we just…start over? Please? I didn’t want it to be like this.”

Michael sighs. “Oh, hun…fine. But he’s on thin fucking ice.”

John finally smiles, with teeth, and even if there is a white powder handprint on his cheek, it doesn’t lessen the intimidation of his features when he does.

“Johnny?” She implores, looking up into his blackened eyes.

“I’m good,” John says.

He sits at the tiny kitchen table with a cold Coke while she looks over the mess on her counters.

“What are you making?” She asks, peering into the bowl.

Michael picks up the stirring spoon and shoves it to her face. “Taste,” he says.

“Michael, this is delicious! John, do you like cinnamon apple bread? Michael makes the best. Fucking. Cinnamon apple bread.”

“Never had,” John replies, toying with the edges of the chipped table.

“You’ve never had cinnamon apple bread?” Michael asks, spinning around.

“Not until nowwww,” she sings, smiling bright at him. “If you’re okay with staying…? John?”

“He better be. There’s no way I’m letting you go that easy.”

He looks between them, shoulders tight, thinking of how he’d be better off in a standoff than here. “Okay.”

The forehead kiss from her is worth it, and Michael, surprisingly, is not insufferable. He’s content to sit on the couch and eat cinnamon bread, which is delicious, and listen to her and Michael catch up and be charmingly nonsensical. A few times, she attempts to include him, before understanding that he’s more comfortable in the role of observer in social interactions, and smiles apologetically before changing course.

He likes watching her. The way she moves and talks, the infinite compassion in that tiny soft body astounds him. The roommate has a little burn on his finger from the oven, and she fusses over it until he lets her patch it up with cream and gauze.

John gets jealous of the way she is with Michael, which doesn’t surprise but does irritate him. While they watch a movie, he pulls her possessively into his side and wraps his arms around her despite halfhearted protests. Maybe he can’t entertain her as well, and make her giggle as endlessly, but he can trap her and never let her go.

So there.

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen this. Popcorn?” She whispers.

He nibbles it off her fingers, unwilling to remove his hands from her waist.

When the movie is done, Michael find an excuse to drag her away for a minute. “It’ll just be a second, need you to tell me what looks best for my date before Johnny boy steals you away again.”

Upon a glance back at John, he is scowling menacingly at the prospect of her being away in another room, and even makes to pull her back from Michael’s clutches before he sees and concedes to the pleading look on her face, and sits back down with a grumble.

Michael is on her as soon as he shuts the bathroom door. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. That. That out there. Jesus Christ, he is delicious.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, not really knowing what else to say, worried that her knight in shining Kevlar is going to get the wrong idea about her and Michael.

“Yeah?!” Michael demands, jumping up on the counter. “Yeah?!” He sighs. “You’re in so much trouble, you know that? That man is gonna eat you alive and pick the bones clean, baby girl.”

Her face screws up, and he holds his palms up to stop the avalanche of thoughts no doubt ready to cascade through her brain. “Now listen,” he says, and she doesn’t, “I am not saying he is in any way too good for you or some dumb shit like that that you’re mind is inevitably concluding. I’m saying that that is a fucking wolf, and you are a sheep, and he’s going to ruin your life and I’m worried.”

Michael might be too perceptive for his own good. “Ruin my life?”

“Ruin you for any other man,” Michael corrects.

Too late for that.

“Babe, I am really not trying to be funny. Blink twice if you need help.”

She tries to contort her face into something other than an amused smile and fails miserably. “I like him Michael. I really like him.”

The understatement of the fucking century.

John helps her pack a bag. He raises an eyebrow upon seeing the dress, a flouncy colorful thing that would pair lovely with braids and his face shoved between her thighs. He puts the bag down on her bed, grabs her while she’s rummaging in her closet, and sticks her up on her little dresser with his hips wedged between her legs.

“John, we—“

His mouth makes her stupid so easily, hands wrapping around her waist and clutching down, saying this is mine without words, and this too while he sucks her upper lip into his mouth.

His tongue seems to find new tender places every time it traverses the expanse of her neck and jaw and collar, the little crevices of honeyed sweat unexplored by any other before him, a treasure under her ear that makes her squeal.

“He’s right,” John says, pressing light kisses over her jaw.

“What?” She breathes, clutching onto his jacket so hard the leather creaks and dents.

“I am going to eat you alive.”

And then he licks the bite from her teeth off her lip, and kisses her so sweetly she wishes he would be meaner just to press some of the ache from her mouth…and heart…and hands and fingers and toes and right between her parting legs where his fingers sneak in and curl.

She’s slippery and soaked, and he raises an eyebrow in amusement at the contrary protest her mouth gives, kisses her again to swallow a low groan as he thumbs at her clit and tugs at her front walls.

She doesn’t want the roommate to hear, doesn’t want him to know she’s a wanton creature with desires and afflictions, and that’s understandable, but unneeded because, “I have you, dollbaby, I’m here. I’ve got you.”

And she’s his no matter what, because he says so. Everything else is trivial.

He makes her cum and lets her bite his flesh so she doesn’t make too much ruckus (a wasted effort, on her part) then pulls his fingers from her tight little cunt and sticks them on her tongue. “Suck,” he says, watching her obey, lick and slurp her own sweet pussy juice of his digits.

His cock flares against his thigh, and he gets jealous, so he has to have a bit of cream for himself before she gets its all.

“See how good you taste?” He asks, fingers leaving in a wet pop from his mouth. “See why I can’t get enough of you?”

She tries to answer, but he kisses her, takes her tongue’s attention from syllables and despite the swollen, sensitive apex of her thighs makes her buck against him for more.

He groans against her mouth, because the dresser puts her right in line with his angry cock, and she grinds up against it, looking up at him through half lidded eyes, shy and needy and completely, helplessly irresistible.

He settles his hand around her collar, and smiles. “Hurry up.”

“Sure you don’t want me to take my time?” She muses, giggling evilly at the prospect of his painfully turgid cock.

“Oh?” He asks, pressing a little harder at her throat and watching her eyes flutter in pleasure. Good to know. “Wanna get fucked like an animal on your dirty blood stained mattress? Let Michael hear me ruin you and that pretty little cunt?”

She squirms, bucks her hips, and he chuckles. Too fucking easy. He loves it. “You little harlot.”

She kisses him again, maybe to shut up him up so her pussy stops clutching violently in need, and he laughs into her mouth despite the ferocity of her tongue and teeth.

“I want you to make love to me,” she tells his lips.

He doesn’t let her turn away from him when she says it, and his heart might as well have been shot through. “Finish packing.”

She smiles one more kiss into his mouth, bumps foreheads, and then lets him take her down off the dresser.

“Do you think this dress is okay?” She pauses, with it bunched in her hands and ready to go into the bag. “Probably not.”

“We can find something else,” he assures, unconcerned but already scheming up a pretty outfit for her.

“Oooooookayyyyyy,” she sighs, pushing it into her bag, anyway. She looks down, into the confines of the dresser it came from, and recognizes the robins blue cover of a forgotten gift, and smiles wide.

“Here, I got this for you.”

The big novel looks so tiny in his hands—it reminds her of when she was a kid, and everything seemed bigger compared to now—as he flips it over and reads the spine. “Oh, have you read this?”

“Uh, no. I just thought you’d like it. It’s about assassins and love. Have you read it?”

“No.” Then, he notices or rather realizes something: She doesn’t own any books. None that he’s seen. No shelf or stash. Her little case of DVDs lying next to the TV is the only entertainment he’s spied, and he wants to know why. “You don’t have any books?”

She shrugs. “I don’t read much. I mean, I used to. When I was young. A lot. But I just have no time for it, with work, you know?”

He blinks at her, feeling suddenly very horrible. Feeling like buying a house and stocking it with every book and movie she wants and keeping her locked in there to read and watch and eat and relax and fuck.

“What?” She crosses her arms in front of her chest defensively.

“I love it,” he motions at the gift.

She gives him one of those smiles that threatens to turn his plasma into syrup and continues packing.

Michael wraps her into a big hug before she goes, glaring over her shoulder at John, who decides then that he likes him because of how much he seems to care about her wellbeing.

When she walks out, John lingers a moment to slip an unmarked envelope into Michael’s hands, and when he looks up to ask about it, John is gone, and the door is closed as if he hadn’t been there at all. Inside is a check to cover the rest of her rent for the next six months, along with a note explaining this.

Of course, Michael immediately texts her after she’s safely buckled into his passenger seat, and of course, she confronts him. There is nothing about her that would indicate she’s okay with someone doing that for her, and John doesn’t expect acceptance right away, although she’ll have to get used to it sooner rather than later. He explains, casually, “It’s not because I think you can’t pay it, or that I owe you something. I want to do this for you because that money is trivial to me compared to your security and happiness.”

“Twelve thousand dollars is trivial to you?” she asks through a mix of gratefulness and sheer outrage that he would even think of spending that much money on her.

He thinks about how to answer that, whether to tell her he can make that in three hours sitting at Viggo’s bar and ensuring no one decides to kill him, and decides that he wants to be as honest as he can. Gently honest. Ease in. “Twelve thousand means something else to people with my salary. It would be like ten dollars for someone middle class.”

She blinks, then, surprisingly, laughs at him. At the raised eyebrow and the quick glance to probably check and see if she’s gone completely wacko, she reassures him of her dwindling sanity. “You paid my rent with blood money.”

He cringes, but agrees.

“I can’t John. I know you do what you do, but I can’t. I’m telling him not to cash the check.”

The willpower it takes not to stop this car, spin and drift on the icy road, park at the corner and bend her to his will either by bending her over his knee or bending her in half while he fucks the fight out of her in the cold back seat is tangent. This reminds him that she is too ethical, too moral, and that he will need to ruin both of those illusions sooner rather than later.

A second later, all his anger fades when she speaks soft and timid, manipulating him with the big-eyed pout on her pretty face without knowing she’s doing it. “Are you mad?”

“I’m irritated,” he tells her, brushing his knuckles over her cold puffy cheeks to soothe the ache of truth. “But I understand. Although don’t think that will stop me from trying to convince you otherwise.”

He grins, and she shivers under his touch, because John can be very convincing. She supposes it’s not hard for him to be, especially looking like he does, carrying himself like he does.

——————————

She is trying on her flowery dress, and it’s tighter, spilling the fat of her tits over the top and framing the soft bulge of her tummy obscenely. She turns in the mirror, smooths down and sucks in and decides she hates it far too much to let anyone see her in it let alone John—except he’s already in the doorway, leaning casually and watching her, eyes downturned.

Out of all the things she can cover, her hands instinctually wrap around her stomach to hide it, and he smiles, deciding that is where he’s going to lick and kiss and suck first.

“It’s not—“ he’s on her, pressing her against the counter and bruising her already chafed mouth, uncurling her little fists and pinning them on the counter. She moans against his teeth, pressing her hips into his thighs, and he bites her bottom lip to distract her from where his hands cup and kneed. It doesn’t work very well, not for too long, and she’s torn between sensitivity and shyness, immediately covering his hands and giggling. She buries her head into his chest, holding onto him, not protesting just yet, and he inhales her.

“Johnnnnn, that tickles.”

“Oh, poor thing,” he tuts, not stopping.

His teeth nip the spillage of her tits while he hikes her dress up around her waist, and then remembers his sweet thing wants to make love, and grins and this little morsel of heaven before him. “Take your pretty dress off and get in bed.”

[whatifitookalilnap]

The Magic of Makeup

(Kyoshi x Rangi)

(A/N: EVERYONE PLS THERE IS A SMUT SCENE HERE! WE GET PORN WITH PLOT SO LIKE AVERT YOUR EYES IF THATS NOT YOUR THING!!!!! Also don't judge me cause IDK how diplomacy or nobility stuff works I'm here for drama. Anywho I already made a couple posts about this but I thought it was so funny that I decided to make a whole fic. The ao3 link will be posted right after this for those who prefer it. Anywho, pls enjoy!)

Kyoshi was jolted awake by Jinpa roughly shaking her entire body. The Avatar immediately sat up and grabbed her fans placed right beside her bed. 

“Who’s dying?!” Kyoshi exclaimed as she jumped out of bed.

“No one, but the Fire Nation nobility are here! Like, they are waiting in front of the gates as we speak!” Jinpa hissed.

“What do you mean they’re already here?! They were supposed to arrive at lunch!” Kyoshi yelled.

“That’s what I was told. I think this is some kind of power play. Just get dressed,” Jinpa insisted.

“Damn! Do you think I can get away with not wearing any of my usual makeup? There’s no way I’m going to have the time but I still need to look intimidating! It’s part of my whole shtick!” Kyoshi asked.

“You’re six and half feet tall, I think you can make it work. Now get changed, woman! We got people to argue with! I'll meet you there!” Jinpa said before rushing out the door.

Kyoshi cursed before springing out of bed to put on her usual business attire. Alright, the green outfit? Check. The headdress? Check. The fans? Check. Big ass gloves? Ah shit, they're not here. Whatever, it’s not that important. Well, that’s all Kyoshi has time for.

The Avatar quickly threw open the door to her bedroom and began speed walking down the hall. Kyoshi already hated leaving her room without makeup. Nowadays, putting on her makeup is step one of her morning routine. She can't remember the last time she handled Avatar business with a bare face. It made her feel vulnerable. Exposed. This meeting needs to end quickly.

As she was speed walking to the conference room where this meeting is to be held, Kyoshi spotted her girl briskly walking in halls. The Avatar couldn’t resist perking up at the sight of her girlfriend coming to meet her. Of course, Rangi had already been awake for an hour before the stupid nobles arrived. She’s always been an early riser.

“Did you have any clue they were coming in so early?” Rangi asked once they met up.

“No, Jinpa had to wake me. I had zero time to get ready,” Kyoshi sighed as the two fell into step with each other.

“I assume that’s why you’re not wearing any makeup,” Rangi very correctly guessed. 

“Yeah, there’s just no way I could have made it happen,” the tall woman confirmed.

“I think that’s for the best, honestly. Being punctual should take priority in this scenario,” Rangi nodded.

Kyoshi felt a surge of pride course through her when Rangi approved of her plans. If only the world knew how weak the Avatar is for her girlfriend. She’d be killed within a week. 

“Let’s get this over with. Hopefully the little bastards are more agreeable this time around,” Kyoshi sighed. 

How Kyoshi despises the damn Fire Nation nobles sent into the damn peace agreement. Kyoshi’s had like five other meetings with them and has been unable to come to an agreement all parties are happy with.

The names of the three nobles that have been utterly torturing Kyoshi for weeks are Akira, Nao, and Chari. Akira does most of the talking, Nao and Chari are really just her yesmen. They're all simply unbearable. The three of them were around her age of twenty two, which is probably what makes them so insufferable. They’re young, spoiled, rich, think they know everything under the damn sun, and worst of all, they don’t have the good sense to fear her. 

Anyone with half a brain should be terrified of Kyoshi! It’s like Jinpa said, she’s six feet and six inches tall! She towers over everyone she meets! Plus the makeup! Ghostly white face and bloody red eyes?? That’s the perfect recipe for fear! How can anyone not be terrified of her?

Maybe it’s wrong to feel so upset that some people aren’t scared of her, but Kyoshi can’t help it. People not having a healthy amount of fear when interacting with her makes her uneasy. If the literal Avatar can’t freak someone out, what can? 

“Wait, one more thing before we go in there,” Rangi said as she stopped right outside the door of the meeting room. 

“What? Did I forget something?” Kyoshi frowned.

“You did,” Rangi confirmed. 

Kyoshi furrowed her brows and went back through her mental checklist involving her attire. Outside of the makeup and gloves, Kyoshi is pretty positive she had everything she needed.

Naturally, Rangi proved her wrong. The firebender cupped Kyoshi’s face in her hands and gave her a light kiss on the lips. At once, Kyoshi’s arms went to Rangi’s hips in order to deepen the delightful sensation. Sadly, Rangi pulled away. 

“You’re going to do great. Stop worrying so much. That’s supposed to be my job,” Rangi smirked. 

“Kay,” Kyoshi said. You know, like an idiot. 

Rangi should never have kissed her right before such an important meeting. Now all Kyoshi can think about is the next opportunity for those lips to be back on her. Kyoshi is so in love with her it physically hurts. 

Okay, time to get the love struck look off her face before facing the nobles. Kyoshi took in a deep breath before nodding to Rangi. With that, her loyal bodyguard opened the doors to where Jinpa and the nobles sat. 

The Fire Nation nobles were muttering amongst themselves as they had during every single one of the past meetings. Typical. Kyoshi had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. However, once the three nobles looked at her, they immediately shut up. That was a surprise.

During the past meetings, even when Kyoshi made her presence known, the little trolls still blabbed on and acted as though she didn't even exist. They would only stop talking when Kyoshi started to speak. However, today she didn’t need to say a word before all eyes were on her. All of the nobles were looking at Kyoshi with shocked expressions, flushed faces, and one of them had their lips parted slightly open in what she can only assume is shock. 

This is suspicious as fuck. 

“Apologies, everyone. I hadn’t realized we would be meeting so soon. Please accept my tardiness,” Kyoshi said respectfully with a bow. 

What she really wanted to say was ‘couldn’t you have given a girl a heads up before meeting me at the crack of dawn’ but that didn’t seem appropriate.

Akira then sprung up out of her seat to pull out a chair for Kyoshi to sit. Kyoshi quickly glanced at Rangi and Jinpa in wonder to see if she's seeing the same thing. Now why on Earth would Akira do that?

“Of course, we certainly didn’t mean to inconvenience such a beautiful woman as yourself. Please, allow me,” Akira said.

Rangi looked like she wanted to set Akira on fire. Kyoshi shared the sentiment. What is she playing at? Less than a minute in and it's rather obvious they are sucking up to her. Ultimately, Kyoshi did sit down on the seat Akira pulled out for her in the name of civility. But that doesn't mean Kyoshi had to like it.

“If you don’t mind me asking, where’s Avatar Kyoshi?” Nao asked.

Kyoshi shot Rangi and Jinpa yet another look. Are these idiots being serious right now?

“I didn’t realize I was so unrecognizable without my makeup,” was all Kyoshi said. 

Granted, that is a lie, but she really didn't know what else to say that's a polite statement. Whenever Kyoshi goes into town with a bare face, many do not make the connection despite her rather noticeable height.

“What? You’re Avatar Kyoshi? Really?” Chari blurted out. 

Oh, this is going to be a long meeting.

“Yes, I am,” Kyoshi nodded.

“I didn't realize you were hiding freckles under all that makeup. You wear them well,” Nao smiled. 

Is Kyoshi drunk? Did somebody slip her something when she wasn't paying attention? What in all Four Nations is happening right now? They must want something from her if they're being this nice.

“I think we need to get started with this meeting,” Jinpa rushed out hastily. It was almost as if he was in a panic. Odd.

“Of course. Please, start us off. Your voice is quite soothing, Avatar Kyoshi,” Akira smiled, chin resting in the palm of her left hand.

Kyoshi actually thinks she’s experiencing whiplash right now. In past meetings, when the discussion gets opened up on a subject, the nobles immediately try arguing for their side. It takes ages for them to be willing to hear Kyoshi out. Something is so wrong here. It's best to ignore that compliment for now.

The more the negotiations progressed, the weirder everything got. The three nobles, mainly Akira, kept blatantly sucking up to her by praising everything she did. While it's true her reputation has improved as the Avatar the past couple years, it certainly wasn't enough to warrant this kind of reaction.

Even one of the people on her side was acting strange. Jinpa, who's usually a man of patience and serenity, seemed very antsy to move things along. He would often try to steer the conversation away from the nobles when their compliments became too excessive.

Rangi was the only one who was making sense right now. As per usual, she took her role as a bodyguard very seriously. She stood there, stoic as a statue, ready to defend Kyoshi should any dangers arise.

Kyoshi stole a quick glance at her girl to find her looking ever so slightly more irritated than usual. Who can blame her, honestly? Kyoshi wants this to be over just as much as Rangi does.

About one hour in and Kyoshi is bored out of her mind. She propped her chin on the palm of her left hand. It's really not proper etiquette and she might get scolded for it later, but Kyoshi is not at a point where she cares. She then felt an itch on her nose, so she used her right hand to scratch it.

Akira was speaking like she always did, but her voice died down when she took a good look at Kyoshi's hands. This woman literally could not get any more strange.

“Is something the matter, Lady Akira?" Kyoshi asked.

"Apologies, Avatar Kyoshi. I hope I did not offend you, I was simply caught off guard. You just have the most beautiful hands," Akira said earnestly.

Did Jinpa squeak? Huh.

Well, Kyoshi had to fight the urge to laugh. Man, they are really grasping at straws here. She must have run out of things to stroke Kyoshi's ego about. The Avatar is well aware of the state of her hands. Beauty is not on the list.

"Please, no need to fill my head with empty compliments," Kyoshi insisted.

"I assure you, my compliments are nothing but sincere. You have the most wonderful hands I've ever seen," Akira said seriously.

Huh, weird. It honestly did seem like the noblewoman was telling the truth. Maybe she is. It could very well be that she's borderline insane, but that's not really the topic here.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but my hands are pretty banged up with all the scars. Consequences of those battles, I suppose," Kyoshi awkwardly laughed in order to lighten the mood.

"The way I see it, the scars you adorn are a testament to your bravery and honor. Courageous is the most beautiful thing a person can be," Akira said. Her two noble goons nodded their agreement.

She had to admit, Kyoshi feels moved. It's no wonder Akira is the spokesman of the group. That is a noblewoman who really knows how to sweet talk a girl. She did wonder why Jinpa squeaked again, though.

Okay, Kyoshi needs to think this through. The odd behavior of the three nobles is a mystery Kyoshi has the desperate urge to crack. The compliments, the pleasantries, the agreeability, there has to be a reason why.

Seeing the three Fire Nation nobles stare at her scars with that look in their eyes made the answer hit Kyoshi like a boulder. Finally, the Avatar understood the out of character actions. Those three are absolutely terrified of her.

It all made perfect sense. Scars in general can look pretty scary. Not only does Kyoshi have a rather large amount of them, the implications of what she experienced also must be freaking out the nobles. The scars show that Kyoshi has lived through much more powerful and intimidating foes than the ones who sit before her. It's visual proof that Kyoshi is the strongest person in this room. And they're terrified of that.

It has to be why Akira made such a point to compliment them. She's well aware of the battles Kyoshi fought to gain her scars.

The makeup and gloves were hiding the scars which must be why the nobles haven't seemed scared of her until now. Turns out, Kyoshi just had her approach all wrong. They did not fear scary makeup or a tall stature, they fear scars and Kyoshi's true face.

Their behavior makes complete sense now.

It's probably wrong that Kyoshi is so excited that she finally found a way to scare these people. They have been grating on her nerves for weeks and she finally has the upper hand. The Avatar is in full control now.

Kyoshi is absolutely going to milk this.

"It feels as though we've been stuck in this room for ages. It's getting quite hot in here," Kyoshi lied.

With that, the Avatar rolled up her sleeves where even more scars decorated her arms. Kyoshi was even bold enough to undo her collar a touch to reveal the scar on her neck. She snapped open one of her fans and fluttered it to gently brush against the neck scar.

Her actions had the desired effect. All three nobles immediately began intensely studying Kyoshi's scars, especially the one on her neck. They were red, evidently nervous, and now incapable of looking her in the eye. They finally feel terrified by Kyoshi. This is a memory she will cherish for years to come.

Kyoshi saw Rangi in her peripheral vision sitting with crossed arms and a deep scowl. The Avatar felt as though she was beaming with pride. Of course Rangi caught onto the fact that Kyoshi is working on her intimidation tactic and is playing the role of scary bodyguard to add to it. Rangi is just so smart.

"Avatar Kyoshi! Would you like me to, uh, open up some windows? I had no idea you were feeling so hot," Jinpa nervously rushed out.

"Please do," Kyoshi smiled.

Jinpa nodded and hurriedly opened up a couple windows as Kyoshi put her fan back at her side. She did what she needed to do to strike fear in their hearts.

"I must say, Avatar Kyoshi, you wield your fans as though they're part of you. It's quite impressive. You have very skilled hands," Nao pointed out.

"Well, I'm sure you've heard of the other things my hands can do, haven't you?" Kyoshi asked with narrowed eyes.

If her reputation precedes her, then stories resembling her scuffle with Xu Ping An would have certainly reached the Fire Nation. She would make it very clear that compliments should not distract from how truly terrifying Kyoshi really is.

"I, well yes. Many have heard stories of your, um, abilities," Nao rushed out.

"Many stories indeed," Akira mumbled.

Chari just sat there looking like an imbecile. Kyoshi wasn't really expecting much else from the lump.

"Alright, I'm going to cut to the chase. What is it that you want from me?" Kyoshi asked in a low voice to add to her intimidation.

Obviously, for them to be this scared of her, she must also have some kind of leverage they need. Apparently, Kyoshi would have to wait to find out.

"Avatar Kyoshi, I insist upon a recess at once!" Jinpa practically shrieked while standing up.

Everyone in the room was visibly shocked at the monk's outburst except for Rangi. Kyoshi's never known the man to raise his voice in such a manner, especially not in a meeting like this one. Whatever had Jinpa so panicked must be important.

"Of course. You don't mind a small break, do you?" Kyoshi grinned, knowing damn well they won't say no to her.

"Please, take all the time you need. We'll wait as long as it takes," Akira managed to rush out.

Hah, the annoying noble still looks flustered. Kyoshi could not be happier. They finally fear her. It feels so good to win.

Kyoshi left the room, quickly followed by Rangi and Jinpa. Once the door closed behind them, Rangi grabbed Kyoshi's arm and pulled her to the left.

"Make sure we're not followed, Jinpa," was all Rangi muttered out.

"Y-yes of course," Jinpa hastily agreed.

"Rangi, what's-" Kyoshi started to say.

"One more word and I'm putting you into horse stance for so long your successor will feel it," Rangi hissed.

Okay, so clearly she's not happy. Kyoshi can't imagine why though. That meeting is going spectacularly. The nobles are significantly more cooperative, they actually listen to what Kyoshi has to say, and they're now willing to give into her demands. She can't understand what Rangi could possibly be so upset about.

Maybe Kyoshi didn't notice something during the discussions? Is it possible the Fire Nation nobles are playing her and Rangi is going to let her know? It's certainly not the first time Kyoshi has made a major blunder like that. There really wasn't much time to contemplate this because in less than a minute the two women apparently arrived at their destination.

The spot Rangi led her to was a tiny hallway that had a single window at the end of it but nothing else. There are no doors or chairs, so no one really spends much time in this area of the building. This is a very interesting spot to talk about any potential issues from the meeting.

Kyoshi looked at Rangi and raised an eyebrow, still very unwilling to speak in risk of horse stance punishment. Rangi didn't say anything. No she did not. Instead, she yanked on Kyoshi's collar and crashed their lips together. Before she even had time to blink, Rangi had pinned her against the wall of the tiny hallway.

Is that what Kyoshi was expecting to happen? It most certainly was not. Is Kyoshi mad about it? She most certainly is not.

Kyoshi quickly put one hand on Rangi's shoulder while the other cupped the back of Rangi's neck to deepen the kiss. The bodyguard moved on from kissing her lips to slowly trail her mouth down Kyoshi's neck.

"There's other ways to rile me up, you know," Rangi mumbled into her skin.

That is something that Kyoshi will be noting for later. Especially if this is the result.

The Avatar gasped as Rangi began pressing hot kisses on the scar at the base of her neck. A low moan rumbled from Kyoshi's throat against her will. Fuck, that firebender knew exactly what she was doing. Rangi knows Kyoshi's body like the back of her hand.

Therefore, she knows that kissing Kyoshi's neck scar will automatically turn her on. Kyoshi can feel herself getting wetter by the second. Her cunt began clenching around nothing, practically begging to be stimulated.

That's when she felt Rangi's hand slowly creep down to the very top of her long skirt. Then, her fingertips ever so slightly went beneath the skirt where Kyoshi's underwear resided.

Holy shit. Is Rangi trying to do what Kyoshi thinks she's trying to do? Now? Of all the times?

"Rangi, we have a meeting," Kyoshi gasped.

"Just say the word and I'll stop," Rangi whispered into her ear.

A better Avatar would be able to resist. A better Avatar would be able to tell their girlfriend it's a bad idea to have sex when they're in the middle of an important meeting.

It would appear that Kyoshi is not a better Avatar.

"We need to be quick," Kyoshi hissed.

"Well who am I to defy the Avatar?" Rangi grinned.

With that, Rangi's hands slipped past the waistband and lightly brushed against Kyoshi's clit. The taller woman gasped once more and bit her lip to prevent the sound from coming out.

"Fuck, Kyoshi. I've barely even touched you," Rangi mumbled lowly.

The poor Avatar didn't even have time to respond before one of Rangi's fingers slowly entered her. Kyoshi gasped and clenched tightly around her finger. It's when Rangi started slowly moving her finger that Kyoshi let out a high pitch whine.

Embarrassingly enough, Kyoshi's always been rather vocal during sex. This really is not the time to be vocal.

"You know I love the sounds you make, but unless you want those Fire Nations nobles to see the Avatar getting fucked by her bodyguard, you're gonna need to be quiet for me," Rangi smirked.

The prospect of that scenario playing out is enough for Kyoshi's entire body temperature to increase. It's just not fair how sexy her girlfriend is or how her melodic voice gets Kyoshi all riled up.

The Avatar had gotten so wet that Rangi had no issues slipping a second finger inside of her. Kyoshi buried her face in Rangi's shoulder to muffle her moans. The way her fingers furiously thrusted inside Kyoshi brought her closer and closer to her breaking point.

While Rangi continued to fuck Kyoshi with her fingers, the bodyguard decided to continue her onslaught of kisses on the side of Kyoshi's neck. The sensation made the Avatar so weak in the knees that she's basically leaning on Rangi for support.

Kyoshi knew she wouldn't last much longer. Rangi's fingers were relentless and every spot her lips touched set Kyoshi's skin on fire. Then Rangi's fingers hit that perfect sweet spot that made Kyoshi want to cry out from pure bliss. The firebender's precise fingers hit that same spot over and over again, causing Kyoshi to arch into Rangi, desperate to be as close as possible to her.

Once Rangi's thumb began hastily circling Kyoshi's clit, it was over for her. The Avatar had to physically bite her lip to prevent her moan from coming out as she finally reached her climax. Evidence of Kyoshi's wetness was coated over Rangi's fingers as she slowly pulled them out of her. Rangi made direct eye contact with her as she licked Kyoshi's arousal right from her own fingers. Kyoshi's face burned at the sight.

Kyoshi was too busy reeling from her orgasm to mentally process the fact that Rangi had dropped to her knees. The bodyguard began to slowly lift up Kyoshi's shirt. The Avatar's eyes widened when she realized Rangi was not, in fact, done with her yet.

"Do you think you have one more left in you?" Rangi asked.

"No Rangi, we need to get back to the negotiations where literal nobility is waiting for us!"

Is what Kyoshi WOULD have said if she wasn't such a whore.

"Rangi please," Kyoshi begged in reality.

The Fire Nation woman grinned and threw Kyoshi's right leg over Rangi's shoulder while the other leg stayed planted firmly on the ground. Rangi rolled up Kyoshi's skirt to her waist.

"Be a good girl and hold this for me," Rangi whispered.

It was like Kyoshi's body had a mind of its own with how quickly she fulfilled such a command. Kyoshi used both hands to keep her skirt up as Rangi moved the Avatar's underwear to the side. Now her bodyguard got a full view of Kyoshi's aching cunt.

"Your pussy is just as pretty as you are," Rangi praised.

Kyoshi blushed at such a sincere and lewd compliment. A split second later, Rangi's mouth made contact where Kyoshi needed it most. The Avatar couldn't help but allow a low moan to slip out.

Rangi dragged her tongue along Kyoshi's entrance. Yet again, the Avatar had to bite her lip to stop any noises of pleasure from coming out. The bodyguard decided to focus on giving Kyoshi light kisses onto her clit before starting to suck it.

Kyoshi's pants and muffled moans increased as she was being brought closer to the edge in absolutely no time. The first orgasm already made her incredibly sensitive, she would come to her peak much faster now.

Rangi's tongue began circling faster around Kyoshi's clit in a way that made her vision blur. Kyoshi began helplessly grinding her cunt against Rangi's face to get even more stimulation as fast as possible. It all felt too good. Rangi is just too good.

Once again, the bodyguard has to essentially hold up Kyoshi's entire bodyweight. The way her tongue makes Kyoshi feel is just so intense she can barely think. Thank the spirits for the wall behind her.

Rangi's skilled tongue brings Kyoshi closer and closer to her breaking point. Kyoshi's hands squeezed her skirt as she felt herself approach her release. The bodyguard's hands gripped Kyoshi's thighs as she continued eating her out. Finally, finally, Kyoshi got to experience the sweet release she had been craving. For a second time, that is.

Kyoshi really couldn't stop herself from letting a breathy moan escape her lips. Rangi pulled back with Kyoshi's wetness all over her face. The Avatar blushed as Rangi had to pull out a small handkerchief from her pocket to clean herself from the mess Kyoshi made.

With the same amount of care one would use to handle a delicate vase, Rangi gently moved Kyoshi's leg off her shoulder. Kyoshi pouted, feeling the warmth of her girl leave her, but dropped her skirt once her underwear was readjusted.

Rangi finally stood up and peppered Kyoshi's face with light, playful kisses. The Avatar giggled as her touch began to tickle.

"We really should get back to the negotiations meeting," Rangi sighed while pulling away.

"Wait, what about you?" Kyoshi asked.

Kyoshi does her best to be a good girlfriend. It's only natural she'd want to return the favor.

"Don't worry about me. Knowing you came on my face was more than enough satisfaction. For now, at least," Rangi grinned.

Kyoshi blushed brightly and looked away from her lover's gaze. It always sounds so much more dirty saying it out loud than when they actually do it.

"Rangi?" Kyoshi asked once she felt her blush die down.

Rangi hummed in response. Kyoshi smiled and gave Rangi a quick but intense kiss.

"I love you," Kyoshi smiled.

At once, it was as though every hard exterior Rangi possessed automatically softened. It was a statement they both already knew, but it was always so good to say.

"I love you, too. Let's go, Jinpa's probably having a heart attack as we speak," Rangi said.

Kyoshi nodded and followed her girl back to the meeting room. Jinpa looked at them in pure relief once he saw them again.

"Everything okay you two? What took you guys so long?" Jinpa asked.

"Oh, we're perfectly fine. Just had to tend to the Avatar's needs," Rangi shrugged.

Kyoshis misses her makeup so much. She had to hold her fan in front of her face to hide the red blush spreading all over it. This meeting needs to be over five minutes ago. How is Kyoshi supposed to survive when the love of her life does things like this?

Please, for the love of all that is good in this life and the next, let this damned meeting end quickly.

****************

The rest of the meeting went surprisingly well and without a hitch. All that was left to do was finalize the paperwork tomorrow and they would be out of Kyoshi's hair. Thank the spirits for that.

Now that the day is over, Kyoshi has the opportunity to have even more sex with her girlfriend. Life truly is good.

Once the Fire Nation nobles left the premises, Kysohi turned to her girl and gave her a smile of pure relief. The relief of finally being done with the most grueling task imaginable, talking to other people. Usually, Rangi returned her smile. Instead, the firebender simply pursed her lips and avoided Kyoshi's face.

Is she feeling okay? Rangi seemed distracted, which is very unlike her. Maybe all the recent negotiations have been getting to her?

"We need to talk," was all Rangi said before walking back into their home.

In no universe is the phrase 'we need to talk' a good thing to hear from the woman you're dating. Kyoshi felt like she was walking to the gallows as she followed Rangi back to their shared bedroom. Once they reached said room, Kyoshi sat on the edge of the bed. Rangi did not sit beside her. Instead, she chose to stand right in front of her.

Well now Kyoshi is slightly terrified for their relationship. She simply waited for the bodyguard to speak.

"Look, next time you use such a tactic to get your way in negotiations, at least warn me first. I realize sometimes a more, unconventional approach is necessary, but I was completely blind sided," Rangi frowned

"What are you talking about? That was the most conventional strategy," Kyoshi replied, very confused.

Intimidation tactics in general are very common to use. In fact, Kyoshi would say it's her favorite tactic of all time. How she loves striking fear into people's hearts.

Yikes, it sounded really bad when she put it that way.

"You're kidding me, right? There's absolutely nothing conventional about what happened back there!" Rangi snapped, voice laced with hurt.

Kyoshi has no idea why Rangi is so upset. Could it be Kyoshi had done something to offend her?

"Look, I honestly don't understand why you're so upset. I did what I always do. I scare the life out of them, they give us what we want. Simple math," Kyoshi insisted.

Rangi did not look amused at all.

"Scared them? You're claiming to have scared them? You have to be joking," Rangi scoffed.

"Uh, no. No I'm not," Kyoshi honestly told her.

Rangi stared at her for a moment before her entire expression changed.

"Holy shit, you're not joking," Rangi mumbled.

"Why would I?" Kyoshi asked with a raised eyebrow.

Rangi merely continued to stare at her for a moment. Then, she buried her face in her hands. She let out a strangled, almost choking sound and Kyoshi feared her girl was crying. Then she looked up and found Rangi laughing.

The fuck is so funny?

"I could not be more lost right now," Kyoshi bluntly stated.

Rangi, still laughing her ass off, walked over and sat next to Kyoshi on the bed. Once she was finished with her little giggles, Rangi let out a long, drawn out sigh.

"Spirits, I fell in love with a moron," Rangi said.

"I mean, you're probably not wrong, but why?" Kyoshi exclaimed.

She is just so confused. For once, Kyoshi thought she knew what she was doing!

"I swear, you're denser than the rocks you bend. Kyoshi, those nobles weren't scared of you, they were flirting with you," Rangi told her.

Kyoshi blinked twice. Then immediately rolled her eyes. That's what she thought was going on? Seriously?

"C'mon Rangi, there's no way. I think I would know if I was getting hit on," Kyoshi drawled.

"I had a crush on you for two years before you confessed," Rangi very rudely reminded her.

"That's true, but be realistic Rangi. I'm well aware of what I look like," Kyoshi scoffed.

"Believe me, so am I. What exactly are you trying to say?" Rangi glared.

Boy, her girl is not going to like this one. Along with being the Avatar's bodyguard, it was Rangi's life mission to build Kyoshi's confidence. The Avatar never really excelled in that department.

"No need for the looks, Rangi. It's not like I think I'm some hideous troll or anything. But, well, I'm crazy tall and have a lot of scars. It's not exactly an ideal look. Neither are the freckles, I've come to learn. Besides, it's like you said. I had nice hands before they got all scarred, but now," Kyoshi sighed while trailing off.

Rangi frowned before holding both of Kyoshi's hands in her own. She soothingly rubbed her thumbs against the back of Kyoshi's hands.

"I'm sorry I made you feel as though a part of you was undesirable. That's really not what I was trying to say. I've always found your hands pretty, I just conveyed my feelings poorly. I admit, I have very complicated feelings about your scars," Rangi sighed.

She thinks that deep down, Kyoshi knew that already. Unfortunately, her self esteem has never really been sky high. Hearing Rangi say those words out loud was a bigger comfort than Kyoshi thought it would be.

"Oh? Like what?" Kyoshi asked curiously.

"On one hand, I hate that you had to experience so much pain. They're reminders that I wasn't able to protect you. You never deserved such horrible treatment. But on the other hand," Rangi said. "Spirits, Kyoshi, your scars are so attractive. The way they decorate your skin makes you look like a damn masterpiece. It's like lightning running across your body. I've never seen anyone so beautiful."

Rangi was staring at Kyoshi with so much love that it actually stole the air from her lungs. Immediately, the Avatar's cheeks were burning so badly they had to resemble the deep red of a fire lily.

"So you think I'm attractive," Kyoshi mumbled with a dopey grin.

Rangi gave her a look and lightly kicked her leg. Kyoshi let out a small giggle at her girlfriend's action.

"Of course I think you're attractive, you big oaf. We are in a romantic relationship," Rangi snorted.

Kyoshi giggled and pressed a small kiss atop Rangi's forehread. Her girl blushed a bit before leaning her head on Kyoshi's shoulder.

"You know, in the Fire Nation, scars really are considered to be a very beautiful addition to the human body. I hate to agree with that stupid Akiko or whatever, but your scars are so pretty. They're like little trophies of battles you survived. Let me tell you, they'd have gone ballistic if they knew about your stretch marks. They're a sign of growth and health back. Just another part of you so attractive it drives me insane," Rangi told her.

Kyoshi blushed once more at the mention of said marks. Her stretch marks mainly littered around her breasts and thighs. Now that Kyoshi thinks about it, Rangi's always given them special attention.

"Also, fuck Yokoya beauty standards. I adore your freckles. The jackass nobles certainly did too," Rangi huffed.

Kyoshi giggled and kissed her girl's nose. Then, realization dawned on her.

"Oh spirits, does that mean me showing off my scars," Kyoshi trailed off.

"Yeah, you were basically seducing them. It was very effective," Rangi confirmed.

"That's so humiliating! Now everything I threatened just sounds sexual!" Kyoshi groaned while flopping on the bed.

Rangi laughed and laid down next to her. Kyoshi adjusted herself so that they were eye level. Spirits, Rangi has the prettiest eyes.

"That may or may not be why I dragged you out of the meeting. I get that people flirt with you, I do. But it just seemed like you were flirting back this time," Rangi admitted quietly.

Kyoshi frowned at the realization that it definitely seemed like she was flirting. She cringed remembering the comment about what her hands had done. That really sounds sexual and Kyoshi absolutely hates it.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to," Kyoshi honestly told her.

"Now I know you didn't. I'm not upset since you were unaware. I guess I just got too jealous. I wasn't too much during that meeting, was I? I hope I didn't pressure you into anything," Rangi worriedly stated.

It shouldn't be possible to be this in love with someone, yet here Kyoshi is. The amount of love she has for Rangi is far too much to be contained in this world.

"Of course I wanted everything you gave me. I'll sleep good tonight knowing that my stoic, calm, and collected bodyguard fucked me in the middle of a negotiations meeting because she was jealous," Kyoshi teased.

Rangi groaned and playfully shoved Kyoshi's shoulder. The Avatar merely laughed and scooted closer to her.

"You're not the only one who gets jealous, you know. I swear countless people have tried hitting on you. I never feel too upset about it because you shut them down so quickly it baffles them," Kyoshi smiled.

Rangi merely kissed Kyoshi on the lips in response. Kyoshi was more than happy to feel her love's lips on her once more.

"I still can't believe you didn't notice, they were being so obvious about it. I really shouldn't be surprised. Not like this is the first time you were flirted with and were completely oblivious," Rangi sighed.

"What? What other times are there?" Kyoshi frowned.

"My point exactly. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about," Rangi teased as she kissed her cheek.

Kyoshi just smiled and observed Rangi's face for a moment. Truly, has there ever been a more beautiful woman? Kyoshi doubts it.

The Avatar was going to change the subject and suggest the two get a quick nap in, but stopped herself. There's just one detail that still doesn't make sense about today.

"Oh, quick question. Do you know what was up with Jinpa during the meeting? I've never seen him so antsy," Kyoshi asked.

Rangi's face turned bright red and she avoided Kyoshi's gaze. It took her a couple moments, but Rangi finally gave her an answer.

"That was unfortunately my fault. I'm not as calm and collected as I look. Seeing someone flirt with my girlfriend kind of makes me seethe with rage. When they started hitting on you, I thought I was gripping the chair but I was really digging into Jinpa's arm. He told me it was fine so pretty much every time you were hit on, I squeezed his arm. I'm pretty sure I ended up burning it at some point. So, uh, please remind me to apologize to him tomorrow," Rangi sheepishly told her.

Wow.

"Between the two of us, that poor bastard needs the biggest raise in all Four Nations."

"Agreed."

[dashielldeveron]

soulmate trope | monoma

Monoma’s route of soulmate trope.

“why did put your whole pussy into the chapter for the character no one wanted to read next???”

i want to make him pop in the microwave. next question

warnings: reader is a masochist but takes no shit. Monoma is explicitly a virgin, and it’s implied that reader is as well—but it isn’t definite. sexual material but not the actual act of penetration ("then what's the point?" delayed gratification, babey!!!). Fem reader.

~12k words

Monoma let out a scornful laugh so piercing and deliberate that it had no problem reaching your lunch table. “Fucking preposterous. Having a soulmate from Class 3-A would be so humiliating that I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, let alone you, Kendo.” His laughter grew louder, sounding a bit forced, but it would have to be in order for the whole lunchroom to hear it. “Unfortunately for you. Sucks to suck!”

 Jirou clicked her tongue and turned back to her sandwich, tapping you on the shoulder with a dangly earbud. “His dick must be tiny.”

 You snorted into your noodles and covered your mouth. “I don’t even wanna think about his dick or anything else about him,” you said, taking the napkin that Shinsou offered you, “He’s insufferable.”

 “He told me he doesn’t have a soulmate,” said Shinsou, nodding towards Monoma, “Said the math was against him, but he didn’t care too much. Said it’s better than someone in 3-A.”

 “Jesus,” you said, frowning, “How much does he hate us for him to want to be without a soulmate? Worse, he’s in the same no-soulmate club as Mineta.”

 “I wouldn’t want anything in common with him.” Jirou glanced towards Mineta, eating alone against the caf wall. Good. Suffer, pervert.

 When Jirou got up to throw her trash away, you sighed and leant on Shinsou’s shoulder. “Shinsou, how’s your soulmate search going?”

 He swallowed thickly. “It’s not. How about yours?”

 “Well,” you said, scrunching up your face, “I have a soulmate, but I’ve got no fucking idea who.”

 Shinsou tilted his head, clonking onto yours. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 “I think we’d better go out to the courtyard for this,” you said, swinging your bag strap over your shoulder, “It requires a visual.”

 By the time Shinsou and you had planted yourselves outside behind a cherry tree towards the back of the courtyard (strategically chosen so that you would be hidden behind bushes and hedges, far away from the stone path, just in case someone saw you and Shinsou and got the wrong idea), you hadn’t briefed him yet, due to other students stopping you on the way for your notes.

 “But what do you mean you don’t know?” Shinsou let his backpack slide to the base of the tree trunk and, once you had sat on your knees, he joined you on the ground.

 “I have a mark,” you said, your fists resting on your knees, “but I can’t read it. I think it’s someone’s name—I don’t think it’s long enough to be first words—but whoever it is has extremely shitty handwriting.”

 “You want me to look at it?”

 “Yeah,” you said, reaching for the hem of your shirt but pausing, “It’s in a weird place, so that’s why we’re hidden. I don’t want anyone thinking you’re attacking me.”

 Shinsou’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, and he smirked. “Is it on your tit?”

 “No,” you said, frowning, “but it’s near one, and it’s all scrunched up and cramped on my ribcage; to get a good look, I’m gonna have to stretch.”

 “Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he said, and you lay down in the grass and pulled your shirt up to just below your bra, where the muddled words that barely spanned a centimetre vertically scrawled across the left half of your ribs.

 His brow furrowed, Shinsou hunched over your chest, leaning down and scanning the text.

 He squinted.

 “Give me a moment.” Shinsou shifted from your side to (“Sorry about this.”) straddle you, doing his best not to put his weight on you, his hips staying high with his hands planted on either side of you.

 (“Arch your back a little more?”)

 He tilted his head.

 “Yeah, I’ve got no fucking clue,” Shinsou said, sitting back and off of you, “It’s too small and chaotic. I think I can make out the last kanji in the second word, but it can be read as so many different things, so I can’t say anything for certain. We could go old-school: Tokoyami has a magnifying glass. I could go grab that.”

 “Sure,” you said, shrugging, “You might as well.”

 “I’ll be back,” said Shinsou, getting to his feet with a little jump and brushing off his knees, “Hang in there.”

 Nodding, you closed your eyes as Shinsou jogged off through the bushes, and you stretched your arms above your head, waiting for the soft crack. The first thing you’d say to your soulmate shouldn’t be a critique of his handwriting, so you were tossing your mind around for something relevant that wasn’t outright rude.

 At the sound of the bushes rustling, you turned to raise a brow at Shinsou for returning so soon, but as you held your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun, the silhouette staring down at you blurred not into Shinsou but Monoma.

 Smile slipping away, you yanked your shirt down your stomach again. “The hell do you want? Shinsou’s left, so you’ll have to wait to talk to him.”

 Monoma tossed his hair to the side. “I caught him on the way to your secret little hiding place. What were you talking about?”

 “It doesn’t matter to you, dickhead.” You pushed yourself up on your elbows and then fully sat up as he squatted next to you. “This soulmate shit is supposed to be personal, so get fucking lost, Monoma.”

 Inhaling sharply when you said his name, he held his index finger against his smirk. “Do you actually want me to leave?”

 Bitch-ass. “Of course—”

 And your mind went blank.

 Monoma let out a curt laugh as he watched your realization wash over your face. “That’s what I thought. Now, lie back down for me. That’s good; you’re so good when you want to be,” he said, hunching over you, teeming with rage and gritting your teeth.

 “Don’t talk to me like that.”

 He gave a dismissive wave. “You like it,” he said, moving to sit cross-legged, “C’mon, show me what you were showing him. Go on.”

 Fuming, you dragged your shirt hem upwards, but you did it so slowly that he snapped his fingers and told you to hurry up—and you had to. How many more minutes would Shinsou’s quirk last? Five? Ten? If you could be annoying for ten whole minutes, following the letter of the law if not the spirit, then you could walk away unscathed.

 (An aside: if your soulmate could have Monoma’s quirk to steal Shinsou’s quirk, that’d be hot. Tell me when to open my mouth, sir.)

 Clenching your jaw, you pointedly looked away when he drew closer to your chest to look at the mark.

 “Your soulmark’s on your chest, huh? Right under your—your breast,” Monoma said, propping his chin on his fist. “So, it’s visible if you went swimming. It could show.” He scoffed. “And you were crude enough to willingly show it to just some guy who’s not your soulmate.”

 Your knuckles tightened around the fabric. “Not like it’s a big deal, since neither of us can read it. Let me go, Mon—”

 But his brainwashing loosed you from its grip the same moment his hand dropped into his lap, and he sucked in through his teeth. “You can’t read it?”

 You’re not falling for that again. You kept your mouth shut and moved to gather your and Shinsou’s belongings.

 “What do you mean you can’t read it?” Monoma asked, dogging you while you shoved your stuff into your backpack.

 Shaking your head, you side-stepped him, slinging your backpack over your shoulder and lifting Shinsou’s to your front.

 Crowding you, he asked, his grin and tone growing to that usual obnoxious tone, “Oh, have you not learnt how to read yet? Is that why you’re showing Shinsou? Can anyone in 3-A read? Why don’t you—”

 You shot him a foul look and elbowed him in the stomach, hard, and Monoma doubled over, clutching the spot and muttering under his breath.

 ***

 The magnifying glass didn’t fucking help. The kanji were that deformed; the handwriting was that incomprehensible. Yes, it’s probably a name, since it’s two words that aren’t the same length as a standard greeting (being a first words soulmark situation). You took it to yourself to borrow notes, cycling through everyone’s handwriting in class. Yes, signatures could be way different than regular handwriting, but there are similarities.

 But not in your bitch of a soulmate’s handwriting.

 Going through your unmatched classmates’ notes made you hate your soulmate’s penmanship even more, because if Bakugou Katsuki can write neatly enough to read, anyone should be able to.

 Nobody’s matched your soulmark.

 You decided you could be a little rude when you met your soulmate, for all the trouble he’s causing you.

 ***

 “Oh, ho?”

 Oh, God, not now. You curled in more on yourself, trying to hide yourself in your hoodie and kept your eyes on Kaminari’s notes.

 “Alone on a Friday night? Do you not have any friends to study with?” Monoma pulled out the library chair next to you, the legs scraping the tile, but he didn’t sit down and instead leant his weight against it so that he could loom over you. “How embarrassing.”

 You ignored him. You flipped to the back of a page.

 “Come, now, I don’t have Shinsou’s quirk at the moment. You’re allowed to talk to me,” he said, nudging you with his hip while he tossed his book to himself, “and you should, if you want some shred of intelligent conversation. Bet there’s not a lot of it in 3-A.”

 Kaminari had really inconsistent handwriting. It was as if he had to draw each stroke completely different than he had last drawn it.

 “C’mon, look at me,” said Monoma, and he slid the edge of his book underneath your chin and lifted it to direct your gaze at him.

 The slow drag of the paperback against the tender skin of your neck had you swallowing excess saliva. Oh, God. Flinching away, you knocked his book out of his hand. “In case you haven’t noticed, Monoma, you’re a bit of an ass.”

 “It’s part of my charm,” he said, flashing you a cavalier grin as he stooped to pick up his book, which he immediately chucked onto the notes you were studying, “What’s all this, then? History notes? Our test isn’t for…” Monoma crossed his arms on the library table and hunched to survey the papers, and he frowned. “Good Lord, why would you borrow that idiot Kaminari’s notes? He’s at the bottom of your class, which is saying something.”

 You began to gather up the notes in a huff. “Soulmate stuff is supposed to be personal, Monoma.”

 “I don’t understand how that’s relevant.”

 “Get fucked, moron,” you said, shoving everything into your bag and pushing out your chair in a screech. “Jerk off onto those illustrations, for all I care—”

 He grabbed your wrist.

 Lightly.

 Just his thumb and middle finger. Space in between.

 You froze and stared down at it.

 “Did I say you could leave?”

 Lips parted, your eyes flicked to his.

 “Sit back down. I’ll sit, too.”

 Your throat ran dry as he pulled out your chair for you.

 When the two of you were seated, he was leaning on his elbow on the table, smug as hell, waiting for you to break first, but goddamn, you were frothing with a boiled-over fury; how the fuck dare he; oh, my God.

 Step one: cover your ass.

 You cleared your throat and spoke softly (library hours!). “First off, how fucking dare you talk to me like that; you shouldn’t fucking talk to anyone like that. You don’t own anyone; that showed an immense amount of disrespect towards—and I know you hate 3-A on principle; that’s fine. I get it, I guess. But you can’t fucking act like that in real life towards anyone—”

 “Pfft.” Monoma bit the inside of his index finger. “You like it.”

 How dare he say something so accurate. Step two: proceed to cover your ass. “What the fuck, man,” you said, slapping the table, “You can’t be an asshole to everyone and claim that everyone finds it hot. Everyone just finds you super fucking annoying. Not everyone is a masochist.”

 The fucker actually held out his hand to check his nails. “Like you?”

 You’ve dug your own grave.

 Monoma clicked his tongue before smirking. “That hesitation says everything I need to know.”

 Why aren’t you covering your ass?!

 “No, I,” you said. C’mon, think! Or at least look like you’re thinking! Brow furrowed, you opened your mouth and then closed it. “I was simply struck dumb by the weird direction the conversation was going. I thought we were talking about how much of an ass you are.”

 “It’s connected,” he said, and he held up a finger with each hand before tapping them together. “Even before, I’ve noticed that whenever I’ve ripped your class to shreds, you’re always glaring at me, otherwise with so carefully controlled an expression—especially when I’m verbally insulting someone. You’ve gotten very good at controlling your face so that the arousal doesn’t show—”

 “What the fuck is wrong with you,” you asked flatly.

 “Because you’re projecting,” he hissed, clamping his hand on the back of your chair to get closer to you (his breath hit your face with each harsh consonant), “You’re thinking that it could be you I’m degrading in front of everyone, you who’s got my complete attention, whether it be negative or not. You’re—”

 “Hold up,” you said, placing your hand on his chest and firmly pushing him away by your fingertips (before he says something that hits a bit too close to home), “Let’s back up. Say you’ll listen to me with an open mind.”

 Pouting, Monoma slumped back in his seat and blew out of the corner of his mouth to huff his hair out of his eyes. “Fine.”

 “First off—and I swear to you I am being honest here—when I look at you with a controlled, annoyed expression, it is because I am annoyed at you. Your running gag of making fun of 3-A is not cute. It’s a bit pathetic. It’s annoying.”

 Monoma frowned. It took him a moment, but he tilted his head, as if he were genuinely considering it. “It’s because it’s horrible being reminded of what greatness looks like, right?”

 You shook your head. “It’s usually at a bad time for competition, anyway, since our class tends to go through a lot of outside-influenced events that already have us pretty damn stressed. Regular school stuff feels like it holds less weight when, like, the League of Villains targeted us recently.”

 He blinked. Once, twice. Then his jaw dropped. “Are you saying I’m annoying?”

 You buried your face in your hands.

 “But you look so aroused when I taunt you.”

 Good God, you’re going to peel off your skin so that you can whack him with each and every one of your ribs. “Monoma,” you said, peeking through your fingers, “You would fucking know when I’m aroused.”

 “Well, I should hope so,” he said, tapping his fingers in a rhythm on the table, “I hope to learn.”

 “What the fuck is wrong with—”

 “Why are you studying Kaminari’s notes, anyway? If it’s not for school.”

 You sighed. Whatever. Anything’s better than talking about what turns you on. If you answer as straightforwardly as possible, maybe he’ll get bored and leave. “Kaminari has the shittiest handwriting in my class.”

 “It looked perfectly legible to me.”

 “Yeah,” you said, digging a page back out of your bag, “Take a gander. Take a goose. Look at this shit.” You smoothed the rumpled paper onto the table, scooting your chair noisily closer to it (he lifted his chair quietly). “It’s like the man didn’t go to kindergarten. Look at the way he forms his kanji. No consistent form. No style,” you said, gesturing with your pinkie towards a particularly egregious part, “He’s got some bulky words over here, but it gets small and tight towards the bottom, and—” You cut yourself off and scratched your forehead. “It’s still better than my soulmate’s handwriting.”

 Monoma’s eyes snapped up to yours. “Huh?”

 “My soulmate’s handwriting is shit. The shittiest I’ve ever seen. I can’t fucking read it. You saw.” You lowered your hand to graze the spot where it branded you. “Can’t even tell if it’s a name, or first words, or anything. I don’t know,” you said quietly. “Makes it feel like he’s so far away. Like I’ll never be able to find him, and this’ll chip away at my soul, like Tainted Love said. Never be able to—what the fuck is wrong with you?”

 Monoma had started unbuckling his belt.

 “Holy shit,” you said, sliding your chair away from him, “Just because I had a moment of vulnerability does not mean I’m down to fuck—”

 “Look at this.” Monoma tugged the waistband of his jeans down—

 “I’m not looking at your noodle dick.”

 “It’s not—what kind of noodles are you eating? No, fuck, I mean. It’s not my dick,” he said, brow furrowed, lips curled inside his mouth momentarily, “but you probably won’t believe me based on my word alone.”

 He’d pulled his jeans down about three centimetres—barely enough for the elastic of his boxers to show (high-waisted bitch)—and. And. And it’s your own goddamn signature, perfectly legible, you’d like to add, scrawled sideways on his hip, parallel to…to one half of that infuriating v that some guys have.

 “Do we both have all of the information now?” He yanked his jeans back up and fumbled for the ends of his belt.

 “Uh,” you said really intelligently.

 “With that out of the way, I’d like to propose—”

 “Already?”

 “—a guideline,” Monoma finished as he sat back down, narrowing his eyes, “since it appears we’re both inclined to miscommunication: that we be as honest as we can with each other and tell each other what we’re thinking, in general, to prevent confusion.”

 “How reasonable of you,” you said, “I hate it.”

 “No, you don’t.”

 “I don’t,” you admitted.

 “Onto other things I’m right about.” Shifting in his seat to face you, Monoma nudged your knee with his and reached for your hand—he made eye contact with you to see if it were all right, and after you nodded very slightly, he took it, your fingers curving into his palm as they both rested in your lap. “You like it when I’m a bit mean to you, yes?”

 You scowled. “Hey.”

 He smiled, glancing at your hands. “Yes?”

 Pointedly looking away, you said, “Yes.”

 “I don’t wanna do anything you don’t like,” he said, and he winced. “I thought you already knew and that you were playing into the teasing thing, so I’m sorry for how I was acting towards you.”

 God. You guessed you could be honest with your stupid idiot beautiful man of a soulmate. “No, no. I’m a bit fucked up to where I think the casual bullying thing is attractive.”

 Again, Monoma winced. “But I didn’t have your permission.”

 You scoffed. “You hardly have permission when you try to roast the whole of 3-A—”

 “Yeah, but that doesn’t have sexual undertones,” said Monoma, taking your other hand and edging his chair closer to you.

 “I should hope not.”

 “It doesn’t.” Closing his eyes, he sighed and rubbed his thumbs over your fingers, his skin soft where you touched him. “I—I have another guideline. More like a rule.”

 “Let’s hear it.”

 Monoma cracked one eye open, gauging your expression before opening them both. “I’d like to keep the fact that we’re soulmates a secret. I’m not ashamed of you, by any means, but—but if everyone finds out that I’ve got a soulmate in 3-A after all the shit I’ve talked—” He grimaced, his shoulders falling slack. “There’ll be hell to pay. I know this is a lot to ask, but—”

 “Sure,” you said, giving his (soft) hands a squeeze, “but I’ve got a rule—guideline—or two myself. We’re being honest with each other?”

 “Of course.”

 “One: lend me your moisturiser.”

 Monoma laughed, the first time you’ve knowingly made your soulmate laugh. You can already tell you’re going to collect so much of his laughter like prized marbles in your pocket. You looked forward to it.

 “Two: you should keep bullying Class 3-A.”

 Here Monoma frowned, but before he could open his mouth, you continued.

 “Three: you start bullying me—in private, though.”

 He opened his mouth, a smile tugging on the corners, and he closed it again before leaning back in his seat. “All right, then, masochist. Tell me what you’re into.”

 ***

 In the first joint training session between 3-A and 3-B since the soulmate incident, you faked an injury.

 “Fucking hell,” you said, with more volume and vehemence than you would have for a normal wound, and you crumpled to the ground to grasp delicately at your calf (catching the attention of those sparring nearby). While you were shielding it from view, you ripped part of the fabric of your P.E. uniform pants leg.

 Shoda Nirengeki, who’d been sparring you, rushed over towards where you crouched and gestured over his shoulder to Aizawa-sensei, who had started walking before he’d been summoned.

 “Jesus Christ, Shoda,” you said, blinking a lot to pretend like you’re trying not to cry, “Good—good work.” You sniffed. “Holy shit. Your—your Twin Impact stuff is really coming along.”

 Shoda’s perpetually grim expression grew grimmer. “Sorry about that,” he was saying as Aizawa stopped behind you, “Do you think you need to go see Recovery Girl?”

 “Uh,” you said, glancing in what you hoped was a nervous way at Aizawa-sensei and back at Shoda, “Uh, no. No, I can keep going. Just let me—” Visibly bracing yourself, you pushed yourself up to stand, refusing Aizawa’s help, and you wobbled.

 “Change out of your P.E. uniform and go see Recovery Girl,” he said, “You’re excused for the rest of the period. Shoda, let’s find you another pair to spar with.” Aizawa paused. “Can you get to her office by yourself?”

 You nodded, like a student who didn’t want to show weakness. Yeah. “Sure. I’ll just—just be slow going, y’know? I’ll…I’ll be fine.”

 Aizawa dismissed you, and while you felt like a bit of an ass faking a limp along the gym wall, it was a perfect balance of oh-I-don’t-want-to-bring-attention-to-myself-BUT.

 Once you closed to gym doors behind you, you heaved a sigh. Hopefully, that was enough for that idiot to notice. You walked towards the girls’ locker room.

 Where’s your locker, your locker—yeah, around the bend towards the back, near the showers, behind the weird island of lockers in the middle. Yours was the last one for 3-A before 3-B’s lockers started, and even then, unclaimed lockers stretched between classes—probably for privacy between shower stalls.

 When the door swung open with a slow squeak, you had to bite back a smile as you took your school blazer off its hanger.

 “Look who thinks she can ditch the only class we’ve had together in weeks,” Monoma said from the doorframe, judging by the sound, “but she’s not as slick as she thinks.”

 His sluggish footsteps echoed on the locker room tile, and you changed your mind: you put your blazer back in your locker to skip a step, instead unbuttoning the first button on your P.E. top, starting at the collar.

 “You were just begging for any shred of my attention.” Sounds like he’s rounded the island. You kept your back to him. “Well, you’ve got it. And you like it more than you care to admit.”

 Oh, good start. “What are you doing in the girls’ locker room, Monoma?” you asked flatly, hiding the fact that you were unbuttoning your shirt by hunching into your locker to tug at your duffel bag zipper. “You’re not supposed to be in here. You can’t cut class without anyone noticing.”

 “No more than anyone will notice you’ve miraculously been healed without going to Recovery Girl.” Judging by his shadow (flickering because of the spinning fan blades between the fluorescent lights), he placed a knee on the wooden bench behind you, and he stretched forward so that his breath brushed against the back of your neck. “But you can’t escape me.” He blew cool air into your ear, and at your shiver, he hummed. “And I believe I told you to call me Neito.”

 You were pleasantly surprised by how good he was at this—but you supposed you shouldn’t be, since he’s already told you about the improv class he took over the summer. Theatre kids will be freaks and be good at it on occasion.

 You tried to turn to face him, but Monoma seized the back of your head and pressed your cheek into the locker vents, not very hard but firmly enough to leave an imprint on your skin. “No, you don’t get to look at me unless I say you can. Got that?”

 “Let go of me; get fucked, Mo—”

 “I said—” He shoved you against the next closed locker with his other hand splayed widely across the small of your back, and the cool of the metal pricked goosebumps where it touched your bare skin. “—Got that? Can’t you hear me, babe? Or are you just that thoughtless?”

 Clearing your throat, you swallowed thickly. “I can hear you just fine.”

 “Oh?” Monoma clicked his tongue (a habit of his you’ve previously thought was rather vexing, but it’s since grown to be a perfect mark of condescension). “I can hear you just fine what?”

 You clenched your teeth. “I can hear you just fine, dipshit.”

 “You think you’re funny, don’t you?” Monoma gripped the hair at the base of your neck and yanked, and he hissed into your ear, his face barely out of your periphery. “You fucking get off on pissing me off, but it’s not gonna pay off in the long run. It’s not gonna be long until I have you in your rightful place: in my bed or under my fucking boot. And you’ll want it; you’ll want what I give you, and I want you writhing underneath me, so teary-eyed and pitiful and overstimulated that you’ll finally puncture your ego enough to beg me to stop, and I won’t.”

 “As if I’d ever beg you for anything,” you said, revelling in the way he used his harsh grip on your hair to guide your face away from the vents to prevent you from getting cut, “You’ve never had anything I’ve ever wanted.”

 “Yeah, well—” Monoma cut himself off, scoffing onto the back of your neck. “Good Lord. If that’s the truth, then you’ve got another thing comin’ to you—I’ve wanted you since before all the soulmate stuff, and now that goddamn fate has put a permanent mark in my shape over your heart, no one’s gonna take you away from me.”

 You jolted in place, even though his hands roamed down to pin you by your hips. “Neito, is that—?”

 “You’re goddamn right it is. You’ve—you’ve fucking distracted me when I’ve had to work harder than anyone else in this fucking school, studying not only my quirk but every quirk around me—and in you’d saunter. What the hell were you playing at? Seems like you don’t even try,” he said with a grunt, and his thumbs began to dig into the small of your back from his clutch on your hips—good pain, a delicate feeling that had your vision blurring for a second—and Monoma used his shoulder to keep you pressed against the locker, finally pressing his chest against your back (still sweaty from sparring, but his body heat was a comforting contrast to the increasingly lukewarm metal against your stomach).

 Tilting his head, he rested his cheek near your uniform collar so that he spoke against your neck. “All right, sweetheart? So, don’t push your soulmate away. Even now, I’m being so patient with you, and I could be even more, offer to wait for you to give yourself to me so that I can destroy you in every way you crave. Invite you to explore together how long it takes you to break. But y’know?” His lips grazed your neck with every word. “I’d rather make you regret keeping what’s mine from me for such a long time.”

 Wait, you’d been getting so into it you’d forgotten to pretend to struggle. So, you squirmed in his grasp and tried to kick him from behind. “Only in your pathetic little wet dreams are you and me—”

 “Hey,” Monoma said, lifting both the arrogant voice and his chin from your shoulder, “You’re not actually hurt, are you? Do you need to go to Recov—”

 “No! No, you’re doing great,” you said, and you finally got to look him in the eye, nodding encouragingly, “I’m fine; I faked an injury for this. This is good. You’re really good.”

 With a softness sweeping over his face, Monoma smiled. “Thanks; I wrote some of these lines this morning.”

 Fucking nerd.

 He stretched to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. “So, you won’t mind if I do this?” With the smug voice returning (you snapped back towards the inside of your locker), he rammed his thigh between your legs, the pressure initially on your ass before he jerked you back by the hips so that it was all against your clit—he pushed down on the swell of your ass to keep you still.

 “Regardless of your meagre little excuse to get my attention, I think you are sick, but it’s not something that can be cured, can it?” Monoma brought his other arm around to wrap around you, his palm flat against your bare collarbone (he thought you wouldn’t notice his quiet gasp when he realised your shirt was unbuttoned, but he’s not subtle), so he’s keeping your back arched as he pressed down on your ass. “You’re a sick little pervert—you stay up late fucking yourself while thinking of me, don’t you? Thinking of my hands on you just like this? That’s why—”

 “Wrong—”

 “Oh, yeah? But you’re turned on by this now, so I know you’re fucking soaked—”

 “Wrong again, asshole—”

 Monoma laughed loudly enough for it to reverberate throughout the locker room, and you made an effort to elbow him, which he evaded. “Is that so? You’re not wet? Open your legs, then.”

 His hand trailed from your collarbone down to just above your bra, stopping short of touching your boob in a way that matters, and you jerked away too hard and struck your shoulder against the locker. “Don’t you fucking dare—”

 When he finally moved his hand from your hip around to graze your bare stomach with his fingertips, Monoma fucking shuddered. He briefly buried his face in your scrunched-up collar before lifting it to speak. “Say you hate me all you want.” He thrust his thigh upwards, lifting you enough for your toes to graze the floor (has—has Monoma fucking Neito always been strong enough to manhandle you?). “But you can’t deny the way I make you clench,” he said, and with his hand flat against your pelvis, he forced you to grind on his thigh all the way back until your ass met his—his fucking erection—

 The locker room door slammed open with the handle clattering, and Monoma had clamped his hand over your mouth and yanked you into a shower stall before Asui and Hagakure could start their noisily mournful search for a piece of Hagakure’s equipment that they left behind.

 Monoma clutched you to his heaving chest against the mildewed shower wall, leaning on it so that you wouldn’t have to, the hand on your hip keeping you close and the one over your mouth shaking—as it should be, you thought, since he’s got his soulmate’s ass against his cock.

 The girls talked while they riffled through their lockers, each door squeaking with the movement. Once your breathing quieted on its own, Monoma cautiously lifted his hand from your mouth, and he took you by the chin to look at him, raising his eyebrows to ask if you’re okay.

 His shoulders slackened from the tension once you nodded, and he closed his eyes to kiss the side of your head. Keeping his mouth near, he stared over your shoulder and reached both his arms around to start buttoning up your shirt.

 ***

 Another day, at your scheduled meeting at a vending machine during fourth period, the two of you agreed that while the threat of being caught is hot, neither of you actually want to found in that sort of position. You both said you’d be more careful, but you’d both said it in a bit of a joking way—playing the bully and victim felt better fast and loose, you’d said, even though in retrospect, it took more than a little planning.

 “The illusion of spontaneity, then,” Monoma said, attempting to roll his can of peach soda down his upper arm to pop it in the air with his elbow—you caught it from hitting the ground.

 “Still,” you said, deliberately placing the soda back in his hands rather than risk his dropping it again, “I worry about how much of your time you spend planning for this stuff. All I’m doing is reacting, while you basically have to have a script.”

 Monoma shot you a toothy smile while he plugged a couple of 50-yen coins into the vending machine for you. “More like an outline. It’s not too bad.” He slipped his hands into his pockets and leant against the machine while you punched in your selection, and over the whirr, he said, “Makes me get better by trying over and over again. And I’ll keep doing it over and over again, so long as it makes you happy.”

 “Oh, it does,” you said, bending down at the kerchunk to reach into the flap, “It really does.” You stood back up and snapped your fingers. “Oh, yeah, I finished your stupid-ass Franco-Belgian comics, but they’re in my dorm; I’ll get them back to you after dinner.”

 Monoma’s soda hissed when he opened it. “And are they as stupid and ass as you thought?” he asked with an easy grin.

 “No, considering I figured all of them were going to be like The Adventures of TinTin. Not the best starting point, Neito.”

 He shrugged. “It’s the one with the most international fame.”

 “I’ve been meaning to read Persepolis for a while now; I didn’t know it fit into that genre. I liked that a lot. Chlorophylle is charming, but I’m not sure I get all of the dated satire. Yoko Tsuno is fun; that, uh—that Rahan one isn’t as good as you think it is.”

 “What are you talking about? It’s hilarious. You get to see the process of discovery.” He took a swig of his peach soda too quickly and choked a little, like an idiot.

 “Thirteen was interesting,” you said, unscrewing the cap for your strawberry soda and paused so that it wouldn’t bubble over, “Do you have the other volumes?”

 Monoma wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Baby, I’ve got them in the original French, if you like.”

 “I do not like. You’re a freak,” you said, smiling down at your soda bottle, “I barely speak this language, and you’re stupidly talented enough to read—”

 When Awase rounded the corner and walked down the hallway towards the two of you, Monoma visibly floundered for a split second before launching into his (clown) routine.

 “Every single day proves me more and more right that no one in Class 3-A has any taste,” he said too loudly, gesturing wildly at you and spilling his own soda in the process, “I mean, come, now. Strawberry? It’s not even a berry. It’s a pseudocarp.”

 Get the man a clown nose; now you’re having an argument over food.

 “Your mom’s a pseudocarp,” you said as Awase passed by, hesitated, and turned back.

 “Is this idiot bothering you?” asked Awase, stepping slightly between you and Monoma.

 “Always,” you said, tossing your hair the best you could and spinning on your heel to go to class.

 ***

 You put more strategy into organising a girls’ pool volleyball game than you did for most of your practical hero assignments. Once the sun had gone down, the girls of the hero course would have a no-boys-allowed volleyball game in the school swimming pool as a reprieve from the stress of schoolwork and internships, even getting permission from Aizawa, Vlad King, and Nezu to ensure it’d be okay. Conveniently, a certain mouthy bitch would find out about the competition between 3-A and 3-B, and he’d sneak into the pool area to support his class to defeat 3-A. And oh, no, he’s the only boy at this girls’ event, and so his punishment would be to pack up all of the volleyball equipment with you at the end of the night, therefore ensuring a carefully crafted “public” moment of a bully and his victim he’s secretly in love with in a situation that has the illusion of possibly being interrupted but in actuality is quite private, since everyone has worn themselves out from the game and is eager to get the fuck back to the dorms.

 Unfortunately.

 By the time you’ve finished tying the net across the water, several boys from both classes have trickled into the pool area. None of them arrived together, each of them clearly having the same idea of being the only boy surrounded by girls in swimsuits, and now they were bitterly glancing at each other out of the corners of their eyes. Hell, Kirishima was even here with Mina’s support, since she convinced him to do the heavy lifting—which they showed up too late to do, so you’ve already done it.

 Now you regretted telling Shinsou to stay away even after his offer to help set up, because you’d like some sanity amidst, like, Mineta and Kaminari not even trying to be discreet.

 When Monoma walked in with his fruity little towel over his arm, he gasped way more dramatically than the situation called for, but at least he didn’t say anything to further embarrass himself. He pouted all the way to his pool chair (good boy; he’d recognised your towel and bag to set up next to your chair in the far corner), where, even from the table at which you were arranging carrot sticks and sour candy (a balanced diet), you scouted out his battered copy of The Return of the King and the next volume of Thirteen when he plopped them at the foot of his chair.

 You got Kendo to shout out the rules for the invading group: “First off, our snacks are off limits. Second, you don’t play our volleyball game, and if you say anything about it, it had better be only positive encouragement. Get in the pool, sure, but stay away from us.” That was a nice touch of hers, since the pseudo-volleyball court took up most of the pool; the guys would have to be scrunched up together near the far edges.

 During the volleyball game, outside of your vain attempt to channel Oikawa Tooru, you did a quick headcount: you’ve accidentally involved around 25 people in your plans to make out with Monoma later. It struck you that with all of the people out here, it might genuinely be less of a risk to just kiss him in the common area of one of the dorms at this point.

 “Oof, ouch, my bones,” you said to Mina, “My arms are starting to ache. Put me out, coach. I’m gonna go sit for a few minutes.”

 Mina sent a playful splash your way. “That’s fine! Try to enjoy your break the best you can—though you might wanna move your stuff! It looks like Monoma’s camping out next to you.”

 You could make her laugh harder if you let her know he’s your soulmate. “I was there first. I’ll make him want to leave.”

 She waved you off, and you climbed out of the pool, water sloshing down your body to the concrete as you approached your pool chair.

 Monoma—what a cute moron—had adjusted his chair so that he could lounge back while he read, and he was wearing sunglasses despite the sun having gone down long ago. As you wrapped your towel around yourself, he shut his book and rested it on his raised knee.

 “You gonna get me some sour gummies?”

 “Get them yourself,” you said, squeezing water out of your hair, “I’m exhausted.”

 His lower lip jutted out. “Kendo said boys have to starve themselves.”

 You laughed through your nose. “If the other guys hadn’t had the same idea to show up, you could have probably weaselled away the whole bag by now.”

 “With the other guys here—” Monoma made a noise as if to spit in their direction. “—I don’t like the way Kaminari looks at you.”

 You actually laughed this time. “Kaminari looks at everyone that way.”

 “Yes, but,” he said, scratching his cheek, “you’re the only one that matters.”

 You narrowed your eyes. How sweet. “You can’t mean that it doesn’t matter if he pervs on someone, so long as it’s not me—”

 “God, fuck—you know what I mean,” he said with a loose wave, “I was trying to be romantic and gallant, but if you’d rather talk potentially problematic subtext that I didn’t even mean—”

 “I don’t; I’m so fucking tired.” You brought your knees to your chest, your toes dangling off the edge of your seat. You brought your towel over your head so that it was more like a hood you could hide under. “There are way too many people.”

 Setting his book aside, Monoma sat fully upright and crossed his legs. “You need to get out of here?”

 “I can’t,” you said, groaning, “I’m in charge. It would be mean of me to slack off and make someone else clean everything up.”

 He shot a look towards the pool and back at you. “Why don’t you take a nap until it’s over, then? Here, take my towel. Use it as a blanket—” He tossed it to you. “—and I’ll make the excuses. Say you badgered me for it and that I’m not leaving without all my stuff. And then I can help you pack it all up once everyone’s leaving.”

 Unfolding his towel in your lap, you blinked blearily at him. “You won’t mind that we won’t get to…?”

 “Nah. I’ll be fine. Another time.”

 “Okay,” you said, curling up on your side away from the crowd and tucking both towels around yourself, “Thank you.”

 You heard him hum as he flicked a page of his book.

 When Monoma shook you awake, you rubbed sleep out of your eyes to reveal a silent, empty pool, the volleyball net already rolled up beside the water and the snack area already ferreted away.

 You covered your yawn but spoke through it. “What—who cleaned—”

 “Kirishima helped me take down the net, and he and Mina took care of the food—except for a bag of sour gummies I have successfully commandeered,” he said, “But you have the key to the room where the net goes, so they’ve all left once everything else was done. And lucky you—you missed when Ashido took the video to record the event on the third years’ twitter account, so you didn’t have to be humiliated for posterity.”

 Well, it appeared they volunteered to help and being caught on camera wasn’t always fun (especially with Mina’s unreliable camerawork), so you elected not to feel guilty. “You didn’t wake me up sooner?”

 Monoma raised a brow. “If you’re passed out on a poor chair during a fucking loud get-together, you need the sleep.”

 “Fair enough,” you said, sitting up and reaching for your bag.

 “Oh?” Monoma was saying as you wadded up both towels and shoved them inside. “You don’t plan on getting wet again?”

 “Not when I’m already dry—oh. I see.” Stifling another yawn, you pushed on your knees to stand. “Sure. Not as intense as we planned, please, since I may collapse any second. But I guess I could get caught in the pool after hours by my school bully; I don’t know.”

 Monoma yanked you back down to kiss you on the cheek before releasing your arm. “Brilliant. Go get in the pool.”

 It’s probably be hotter if there’s a layer of he-can-touch-the-bottom-of-the-pool-but-you-can’t, so you climbed in towards the deep end and swam towards the middle. From your spot where your clung to the edge, you cheered when he took off his shirt, and he still rolled his eyes and shook his head.

 “Hot boy! There’s a hot boy on the loose,” you said as he got closer and sat down on the ledge next to you, dipping his feet in the water, “Hot boy!”

 “You’re insane,” he said through a soft smile, and he tried to ruffle your hair, but you dodged it by ducking underneath the water

 “But that’s part of my charm,” you said once you’d surfaced.

 It was a good thing you were already in the pool, since your throat was already going dry at the sight of his stupid lean but toned chest, certain lines in muscle defined but not all of them (he’d told you he deliberately didn’t want to get super ripped like Bakugou or Kirishima, because a lot of his strategy in battle relies on agility and flexibility—and if he’s got less bulk to throw around, then it’s easier for him to recover when an opponent’s caught him off guard—something about the same thing male gymnasts did, from his perspective). Still, that just meant that he was a different kind of physically fit, and the category you’d decided he fit into was pretty.

 “You ready?”

 His voice broke your attention away from the cute little rolls on his stomach when he hunched over. “Yes.” You kicked off the side of the pool underwater, propelling yourself more towards the centre.

 Treading water, you tilted your head up towards the night sky and listened for movement in the water, but all you could hear was the tinny buzz of the overhead lights, occasionally interrupted in their drone when bugs flew into them.

 Two fingers grazed your spine before you knew it. “Wha—Neito,” you said, spinning around in the water and frantically searching for an escape route before he could crowd you, “What are you doing out this late?”

 “I could ask you the same thing,” he said, his voice taking on that icy, patronising tone, “It could be trouble if someone knew you were out after curfew, sweetheart, and I know you’re depending on Aizawa’s recommendation to get into that agency soon. So, let’s not make a scene while we’re here. We wouldn’t want anyone else to find you. You’re lucky it’s only me, who won’t share his playthings.” Monoma kept his face close to the water and swam to your side, getting behind you before you could even register movement.

 “You don’t—you don’t have to do this,” you said in what was hopefully a choked-up sounding way, your breath hitching as his hands drifted down your sides to grip your hips from behind, “We could just—we could both just walk away! Say we didn’t see—”

 “No.” He tapped his fingers on your hipbones while his thumbs dug into the small of your back again. “Why would I sacrifice a chance to—stop squirming—to discipline you for how you behaved—”

 Once you kicked out of his grasp and began to swim towards the shallow end, you figured he’d manhandle you back into his arms, but Monoma remained in his place and called your name with enough wrath to froth over.

 He spoke with a controlled, quiet fury. “Where do you think you’re going?”

 You hesitated just before the pool steps.

 “Turn around.”

 Looking over your shoulder, you met his scowl before turning fully.

 “Either you come back here on your own, or I make you.”

 Ohhohoho, hot. You took more time than you normally would have in returning to him, and you took his hand when he extended it to you, your own shaking.

 “So, she can be good when she wants to,” Monoma said under his breath, “Not that she’s been good at all today.” Dragging you closer to him, he gripped the back of your neck to make you look into his eyes. “You’re a fucking tease, you know that?”

 You sniffed and glanced away for effect. “I—I don’t know what—”

 “I—I don’t know,” he mocked, and he moved his hand to squeeze your cheeks, your chin in his palm, “Do you know how much those other guys were looking at you? No? Answer the fucking question, sweetheart.”

 While you struggled to shake your head, Monoma squeezed again, his thumb and middle finger forcing space between your upper and lower teeth.

 “Care to explain why you chose to wear such a tiny little swimsuit—”

 (It’s really not. It’s a two-piece that completely covers you, including your stomach, and even has a little skirt, but you can guess where he’s going with this.)

 “—that could be tragically lost at any time?” And yes, he’s going for the first tie at the back of your neck, and he tugged it loose, flipping the strands to the front so that the fabric fell enough for the top of your boobs to show. “You’d think that you want any sadistic voyeur imagining how you’d look out of your swimsuit to touch you—”

 “But—”

 “Hold still for me.” He reached for the second tie. “We wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, hm? Because,” Monoma said, yanking your top off and chucking it off to the side, where it struck the concrete with a wet plop, “we can’t have…have you…”

 You caught a visible moment of genuine affection sweep across his face as you squished your boobs against his chest, hugging him tightly while checking the surroundings again in case someone else saw your nipples—even him, considering this is going to be his first time seeing them bare.

 He guided your chin up to face him, his lips so close you could feel their heat. “Well, aren’t you suddenly such a good girl?”

 And that got heat spreading across your face and ears; you made feeble efforts to jerk your chin away, but he held it steady.

 “You’re taking it so easily, even clinging to me. Bit suspicious, yeah?”

 “No,” you said, finally ducking your head, “I don’t want anyone else to see me, and I’m nervous, anyway.”

 As he guided you backwards towards a corner of the pool, his eyes lit the fuck up. “Anyone else? Is my prideful little baby admitting that it’s okay if she gets manhandled and shoved around and spat at, so long as it’s my hands doing it? You don’t want to be passed around like a common whore?”

 As he situated the two of you in the corner, he took a glance towards the doorway and adjusted himself so that he’d block the view of whoever may walk in. Monoma waited until you’d mumbled out no as an answer.

 “It’s only me? How embarrassing.” His grin stretched widely across his face, his teeth cutting into his lower lip. “You only have to focus on me, babe, because if anyone tried to take you from me, he’d see that mark, my name already branding you until the end of time. Hey,” he said, relaxing his grip on you a bit, “let me see?”

 You dropped your arms, backing into the corner as far as you could go, and his eyes fell half-lidded and down to your boobs.

 The fucker sighed dreamily.

 When he raised a tentative hand to rub his thumb over the soulmark, he fucking sighed again.

 Since your nipples had the time to harden due to the cool of the night, instead of, like, his touch, you asked, out of character, “Are you gonna do anything about it, screwboy?”

 “You don’t know what you do to me,” said Monoma, shaking his head, and he got back into it. “But they won’t even have to see the soulmark to know you’re mine; when I’m through with you, you’ll be so marked up with hickies and bruises—maybe a slap mark or two—that they’ll know you’re not theirs to touch.” He cupped one of your boobs and gently pinched the nipple of the other, rolling it between his fingers, and he took a moment to kiss you—open-mouthed and insistent, a soft sort of greediness as he took your lower lip into his mouth, and he couldn’t hold back his fully fledged ­­moan when you raised your leg to keep his hips pressed to yours to grind against him underwater.

 “I dare you to tell me to stop.” Monoma kissed down your throat, being wet on purpose, and he got all the way down to just above your nipple before he stared up at you with that idiotic grin. “Ooh, she can’t, can she?” He let out a laugh, the heat suffusing over your boob. “It’s okay, baby. I know you can’t help it.”

 Monoma took your nipple into his mouth and sucked, and you scrunched your eyes shut, squirming away on impulse as you pushed on his head—but you made yourself still, and you opened your eyes.

 “That’s right, pretty—just look at me.” He made a show of licking all around your nipple before flicking it with the tip of his tongue. “You give me that much, and I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll give you everything.”

 ***

 You were walking back to the dorms from a local corner shop, and Monoma was trying to have phone sex with you.

 You weren’t feeling particularly sexy, bundled up in a heavy winter coat and his houndstooth scarf with your nose running from the cold, but he didn’t need to know that. He wouldn’t, so long as he didn’t hear the rustling of the shop bags.

 “Wish you’d video call,” he said, panting, “You could see me, then—see me stroke myself to your voice.”

 “When you start the call with a demand to ‘put the girls on,’ you lose all rights and privileges.” You had to be vaguer and quieter now that you were on campus. “Tell me more about what’s happening on your side. You close?”

 “God, yes, I miss you. I need you. I swear you could slap my face right now, and I’d come all over my chest.”

 You started up the path to the dorms, quietly knocking on the mailboxes for luck. “Not on me? You’re so considerate.”

 “Tell me—tell me what you’d do to me, if—ah, fuck—if you were here.”

 “I don’t think you deserve that, Neito,” you said, trotting up the steps to 3-B’s dorm and peeking in the windows to gauge crowd control, “Well, I’ll allow you this: I wouldn’t do or say a damn thing. I’d stare you down while you mindlessly babble about what you want me to do until you get frustrated enough to take it into your own hands.” Doesn’t look like anyone’s hanging out in the commons, so you opened the front door.

 “You’d hah, have the nerve to treat me like that? You really thi—think I’d let you? Oh, sweet girl, you precious little thing, it’s a miracle you’re walkin’ around with that sort of confidence, when I co—could rip you apart at any moment.” He’s getting careless, letting the wet schlick grow louder over the phone. Must be embarrassing to share a wall with him. “I don’t always play this nicely.”

 Kendo waved to you from the kitchen, but you just smiled and pressed a finger over your lips, nodding towards your phone. She gestured towards her cooking, holding out a spoonful of soup, since your hands were full.

 You let her guide it to your mouth, and you took the opportunity to moan once you tasted it. You heard him inhale sharply over the phone.

 You gave Kendo a thumbs-up, and she smiled, leaving you to choose whether to take the lift or the stairs. With the stairs, you risk the sound of your footsteps echoing, but with the lift, you risk the ding when the doors open.

 “Fuck, fuck, sweetheart,” Monoma was saying as you shifted all your bags to one arm to start walking up the stairs, “You make another sound, and you won’t be able to sit down for days when I see you again. I’m gon—gonna fuck you the way you need, and you, you need to feel my cock spread you open, hm? It’ll be so good; you’re so good to me.”

 He’s on the third floor, right? Room…what, 302? You supposed you could just follow the sounds of Some Guy Jerkin’ Off, but that leaves a lot to be desired.

 “I’m—I know I’d fit you so well,” Monoma said with a grunt, the bed creaking in the background, “Someday, I’m gonna—”

 “Yeah, some day you’ll get that done, Neito,” you said, scanning the room numbers on the doors, “Until then, you’re just some bitch-ass virgin.”

 And that’s what pushed him over the edge. Grinning, you held the phone away from your ear, listening in the hallway for the same whiny, throaty moans (boys should moan all the time, you’ve decided. It’s just too darn pretty of a sound).

 You waited outside his room until he finished, and you pressed the phone to your ear again.

 “Baby, I love you; God, fuck, I’m so lucky to have you as my soulmate,” he was babbling mindlessly, just like you’d said he would, “You’re so, so good, and kind, and—”

 You knocked on his door.

 “Shit—” You heard fumbling both over the phone and through the door. “I’m so, so sorry, but I must’ve been too loud; someone’s at my door. I’ve got to go. God, where are my pants—”

 Hanging up first, you bounced on the balls of your feet and listened to the clatter going on in his room, and eventually, he, wearing mismatched clothes, swung open the door.

 After a beat, Monoma frowned and crossed his arms. “I suppose you think you’re awfully clever.”

 “I know I am,” you said, striding past him and setting your shopping bags on his desk, “and you were right: your scarf really does make it feel like you’re cosied up in a sleeping bag.” You took it off and laid it over the back of his desk chair. “Thanks.”

 Grimacing, Monoma was already back on his bed and opening his laptop. “Well, now that you’re here, you can’t leave until you tell me what you think of my next chapter.”

 “You finished it? That’s really fucking neat-o, Neito,” you said, adding the English word to piss him off. “Let me read.”

 While you read the word document on his laptop, Monoma riffled through the shopping bags (crinkling a lot, you might add) for the pack of Kororo white peach gummies, and then he curled around you on the bed to peel it open.

 “You’re weirdly quiet,” you said once you got towards the end, “Did I hurt your—you know I don’t really think virgin is an insult, right?”

 He gave a dismissive wave. “Not offended by something I am. You’ve got to realise I just had an orgasm, so I have good reason to be all languid.”

 You shut the laptop and set it on his bedside table. “Do you think—if our friends knew we were soulmates—if they knew we haven’t had sex yet, they’d be weirded out? I mean, at least in 3-A’s dorm, the school is actively providing condoms and other birth control, since the admin’s realised it’s inevitable people are gonna fuck now that they have a life partner.”

 “Well, our classmates don’t know we’re soulmates, and they won’t ever know, so I don’t see a problem.” Monoma held out his arms and made grabby hands, so you lay down for him to hold you. “And I personally am enjoying the delayed gratification of the chase.”

 “Me, too.” You ran your fingers through his hair (very soft from his bougie shampoo and conditioner), and he leaned into your touch. “The only person who saw me on the way up was Kendo.”

 “Oh, God, did she hear you talking to me?”

 “She did not hear me talking to you.”

 He narrowed his eyes. “I feel like you’re leaving out crucial information.”

 “Perhaps,” you said, “To the best of my knowledge, they’re buying my excuse that I like the view from 3-B’s rooftop better than mine, so I don’t think they suspect I’m seeing you.”

 “Good. Very good.”

 “If anything,” you said, lowering your hand to stroke his cheekbone, “they might think you’re leaving me alone in comparison to the rest of my classmates. You never even copy my quirk during training.”

 His eyelashes fluttered against his skin when he closed his eyes slowly. “Why would I? It’s yours. I’m not gonna take it from you.”

 “But you wouldn’t take it from me; I’d still have it—”

 “I respect you too much to try to use it. I don’t want to learn how to use it, because that would mean I wouldn’t need you by my side in a fight.” He pulled you closer, his body heat seeping through your clothes. “You don’t need me to share it with you. It’s yours.”

 At your silence, he rolled his eyes and clicked his stupid tongue. “I don’t really have a quirk that’s truly mine, and I think that extends to my lot in life. My power depends on those around me, so if I’m alone—well. I’m useless. Which is another fucked-up reason why I like the soulmate mark so much, since—” He sucked in through his teeth. “—since I’ve never had anything of my own.”

 You held your breath, and then you opened your mouth without a plan—

 Monoma laughed—another marble in your pocket. “And before you can say anything about how you can’t own anyone and how I shouldn’t talk to anyone like that, I was trying to be poetic.”

 “I wasn’t gonna say that, Neito,” you said, sitting up a bit so that you could cup his face with both hands, “Do you really think that little of yourself?”

 He flipped his hair out of his eyes for dramatic effect, unsuccessfully. “Isn’t it cool and fun and sexy of me to need therapy?”

 “Only if you actually go to it,” you said, “You don’t need to feel insecure, baby, because you’re everything I could want—even though your value doesn’t depend on my opinion of you. Let me backtrack. That wasn’t the best reason.” You lay facing the ceiling with your arms behind your head, shifting a bit so that he could get another peach gummy, and once he’d popped one in his mouth, he held another up to your lips, which you accepted.

 “You’re taking a concerning amount of time to think of my positive traits.”

 “It’s not that,” you said, chewing on one side of your mouth, “I’m trying to think of how to say it. I’m not as good with words as you are. Okay, listen. First off, you don’t have to do anything to be worthwhile. You’re worthwhile just existing. You’re good already. You don’t have to do anything more. You’re—fuck, I’m not good at this.” You cringed, scrunching your face up—but Monoma was quiet and didn’t interrupt. “I’m sure I’ll come up with something better later, but right now, I can’t think of anything that tells me how good of a man you are is that I wanna be around you more than anyone else. Hell, I’d rather be around you than be by myself, and I love spending time by myself. You—”

 You frantically glanced to see if he were handling this well, and the idiot was lying there with a peach gummy halfway out of his mouth, puckering his lips as if to offer it to you.

 You leaned forward to take it, but before you did, you said, “And I can’t get over how much Eri likes you, too, and that Aizawa-sensei trusts you to take care of her when he’s off campus. That kid is cautious around everybody, and she’s relaxed around you.” Feeling a bit foolish, you kissed him lightly in the process of taking the peach gummy from him.

 Monoma stared at you, blinking profusely, like he was going to cry, while you chewed and swallowed.

 “Are you okay?”

 “I think you do know what to say. You’re good. Thank you. I’ll work on things, I guess. I can try.” He stuck out his lower lip. “But I can’t betray my otherwise superior exterior towards 3-A—”

 “Oh, yeah? They’ll realise you’re a big ol’ softie if I tell them we’re soulmates.”

 “Hey,” Monoma said, frowning, and after a moment, he tilted his head, his hair splaying across his pillow. “I have a proposal—”

 “Again?”

 “The most romantic one I can fathom,” he said, taking your hands and fiddling with your fingers, “Do you wanna watch Lord of the Rings? Extended edition?”

 ***

 Out in the courtyard, the leaves were changing with the seasons.

 “Hey,” said Jirou, scrolling through her phone, “It looks like Tainted Love might get parole.”

 Yaoyorozu lifted her head from Jirou’s shoulder. “So soon?”

 “She already got moved to a lower-security prison two months ago,” said Uraraka, reaching across the picnic blanket to the plate of matcha mochi, “So they’ve already decided that she’s not much of a threat.”

 “You’re joking,” came Shinsou’s voice from your left, dropping his backpack next to you on the blanket, with Todoroki, Kaminari, and Monoma in tow. “After what she did to us? Some of us are fucking dying because of the eroding lifespan side effect.” Shinsou sat cross-legged next to you and propped up his backpack for you to lean on for back support, and the other guys integrated themselves with the rest of the picnicking group—stragglers from 3-A and 3-B after school ended for the day, a sort of tea-party-picnic mostly arranged by Yaoyorozu before exams next week.

 Daring to shoot you an apologetic look, Monoma sat at a distance from you, slightly subdued as he crouched next to Kendo and Shoda.

 “Yeah, my chest hurts at odd intervals,” said Kaminari, holding a hand over his heart, “I think I need to find my soulmate and get laid immediately.”

 “Soulmates aren’t all about sex,” said Shinsou with a scowl.

 Kaminari shrugged. “They could be.”

 “But Tainted Love is getting parole?” You held your teacup between your palms, letting the heat of your raspberry tea keep them warm. “What’s the source?”

 “Uh, looks like Midnight-sensei and Present Mic-sensei were in a press conference this morning about the group that she’s a part of,” said Jirou, “Midnight-sensei’s been working with the authorities on getting information out of Tainted Love, since their quirks are both reliant on inhalants—and Tainted Love seems to like her.”

 “I need to talk to Tainted Love,” said Kaminari between bites of some sort of biscuit that Bakugou had apparently baked last night, “I wanna ask if there’s any way that she could, like, speed up the soulmate identification process. I can’t find mine for the life of me.”

 Jirou shared a look with Yaoyorozu, and she said, “That’s because no one would claim you, even if you had a few more brain cells.”

 “You misunderstand me, Jirou! Being a himbo is the basis of my appeal!” Kaminari slapped the back of his hand to his forehead and screwed up his face. “If I got any smarter, then no one would want me for me, because I wouldn’t be true to myself. Big sigh,” he said, actually saying the words, “Maybe those of us who are unclaimed should just hook up and rotate around until we feel right.” Kaminari’s voice carried across the picnic area (his dramatics made Kendo snort).

 Shinsou flicked Kaminari’s forehead. “When you stop being a pig, maybe someone’ll want you. To be loved, you first have to be lovable.”

 “You know, I don’t think that’s quite true.”

 Everyone’s heads turned towards Monoma, looking oddly constipated and halfway into a scone, which was crumbling to dust in his tense grip. “I don’t think you have to do anything to be loved. I think—” He seemed to notice that he was destroying his scone, and he set it on his paper plate. “—I think that you’re worth loving just because you are.”

 Brow furrowed, Shinsou glanced between you and Monoma. “Dude,” he called towards him, “Are you okay?”

 “Sorry, Monoma. I love you, man, but you’re not my type,” said Kaminari, popping the collar on his blazer, “even though we’re both unclaimed so far. You know who else is unclaimed?” You watched in horror as Kaminari actually and literally rolled over from his spot on the picnic blanket closer to you. “Hi,” he said, staring up at you, “I believe you’re also dying due to heartache?”

 Shinsou tensed next to you—and you didn’t even look at Monoma; you knew he wouldn’t want you to give anything away.

 “Uh.” You glanced around for help from anyone, but everyone was also weirdly frozen and put out by this. “I mean, I am. That’s true, I guess, since I don’t have a soulmate. But—”

 “Would you like not to be?” Kaminari folded his arms behind his head to grin up at you.

 But a tight-fisted Monoma had already stood up and walked stiffly over to where you were on the blanket, and he knelt next to you, nudging Kaminari away with his knee. He started to unbuckle his belt.

 At the clink of his buckle and soft zip of his uniform pants, the stillness overtaking everyone shattered: essentially, a collective flinch passed over the onlookers, with more than a few choice swears coming from Jirou, and Kaminari scrambled away.

 “My dude, what the fuckingeth—”

 Monoma—you slapped your hand over your eyes, already embarrassed—pulled down his pants enough that everyone could see your name along his v-line. “She and I are soulmates,” said Monoma, looking calmly as he could at Kaminari, “Hope that clears things up.”

 His jaw slack, Kaminari glanced at the soulmark, at Monoma’s unwavering expression, and back at the soulmark. “You have your soulmark right on your cum gutters? You’re so lucky.”

 Yaoyorozu had to clutch her stomach she was laughing so hard; Shinsou pinched the bridge of his nose. Jirou could hardly talk for laughing, composing herself enough to stutter out, “You—you call them cum gutters?”

 “Like I would know that real term.”

 It was nice, since the shock and attention shifted to roasting Kaminari alive. But now Monoma was sitting next to you, staring nervously into the teacup you handed him, and when you gently bumped his shoulder, all he did was take a sip, his hand shaking so that the porcelain clattered when he returned the cup to the saucer.

 “That was very brave of you,” you said softly, “Thank you for doing it.”

 He hummed, still looking into his teacup.

 “I guess I should congratulate you,” said Shinsou, shifting his attention away from the Does-Kaminari-Even-Know-About-Anatomy-What-About-the-Clitoris conversation, “So, congratulations.”

 You squinted at him. “You don’t sound surprised.”

 “You were right about 3-B’s dormitory having a better view from the roof,” said Shinsou, jerking his head to the side, “but I never saw you there. I think you’ve shocked everyone else, though. Check out Midoriya over there.”

 He was frantically glancing between you and Monoma, steam almost visibly blasting out of his ears as he tried to process it.

 Monoma huffed, and he finally allowed himself the beginnings of a smug grin. “Well, of course it’d be surprising for such a power couple to come out of the soulmate incident. It’s too perfect.”

 And when Mina started filming the picnic to post on the third years’ twitter, he made a point of kissing you in front of everyone, as proof recorded until the end of time.

soulmate trope taglist: @bakugouspsycho, @pansexualproblemchild, @doonaandpjs, @sunsetevergreen, @the-coffee-is-on-fire, @liberace2, @ladymidnight77, @nonomesupposedto, @gooooomz

[thebramblewood]

Lilith does a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad thing (because she's big sad about her brother moving out and getting a life of his own).

Previous / Next

Misael: [dubiously] You’re GoldenSerpent1891?

Lilith: That’s right. Are you surprised?

Misael: You’re just… not what I was expecting. I’m n1ght_wr4ith. Obviously. But, uh, you can call me Misael. What’s your real-

Lilith: Let’s not waste time with pleasantries. I’ve got what you need.

MIsael: Where did you find it? How did you find it?

Lilith: A lady never tells. Let’s just say I have my ways.

Misael: Well, how much do you want for it? [mutters dejectedly] Probably more than I can offer.

Lilith: It’ll cost you nothing so long as you do what you say you’re going to do with it.

Misael: I know my quarrel with the Sages. They snuff out any magic stronger than their own just to steal it and keep it under lock and key with their stifling ranks and rules. But what do you have against them?

Lilith: [hisses] You ask too many questions. Do you want this thing or not?

Misael: Of course!

Lilith: Silversweater and Faba are practically sawdust already. They won’t put up much of a fight, so don’t waste your energy. But watch out for Ember. If anyone knows their way around dark magic, it’s that insufferable fucking know-it-all.

Misael: [sneers] Not even Morgyn will see me coming. If this book holds the spells I think it does, they’ve been banned in the Realm since before those geezers’ time. They won’t stand a chance. And when they’re gone, those stupid floating space rocks will finally fall apart for good.

Lilith: Let’s hope for your sake you’re right. You wouldn’t want to end up on my bad side, now, would you?

[munsons-mutiny]

Headcanon that next season it’s Steve not Jonathan who catches Will staring at Mike with patented Wheeler Longing. He knows that look, hell he invented that look.

And is very first thought is God Damn I’m just collecting Gays at this point.

He makes an effort to spend more time with Will when he realizes. While they’re all volunteering and just doing their best in the weeks after losing Eddie, he always tries to make sure Will knows he sees him.

As they get closer he starts taking wise cracks at El and Mike whenever they’re around, stupid sassy comments that never fail to make Will smile or even laugh. Eventually he even starts roping Will into teasing Robin for being hopeless with girls. (Robin is of course in on it and has approved being outed in this scenario, Steve would never have revealed it otherwise)

The first time it had happened Will had frozen up completely looking around to see who was listening, he looked terrified. But Steve just kept his reaction natural and Robin just rolled her eyes talking about all of his strike outs last summer. Their usual banter filling the space until Will could breathe again, could join back in to give Robin shit.

His smiles are even brighter after that, even more open, and sometimes when the three of them are alone he comments on a cute boy he saw, or really rants about Mike. Steve and him bond over Wheeler rants, even though Steve really is over Nancy now.

When shit inevitably kicks off again, Steve keeps an even closer eye on Will. He’s one of the people that he’s overprotective of now, and it’s the first time one of those people have been the focus of the enemies. Have had a target painted on their back. It has him so stressed already, that he hits his breaking point the day they encounter Kaz.

Not Eddie. Cause he’s not Eddie, not anymore. He nearly took a bite out of Dustin, and Johnathon had to restrain Mike to stop him from running to him. Only stopped fighting when Kaz grinned at him blood covered fangs and dead eyes.

It was a bad day.

They somehow all make it back to the cabin unscathed, and Steve has to keep it together. Has to make himself strong while Dustin falls apart in his arms, and Mike is pacing and shouting at anyone who will listen. Tears streaming down his face. He keeps it together for hours, til Dustin falls asleep against him, and Will finally got Mike to sit down and pass out. Only when he’s sure he can escape unnoticed, does he stand and let himself outside to the back of the cabin.

The second he’s there he collapses into sobs. Falls to the ground and puts his face in his hands to muffle them. Shakes with the effort of it all.

It doesn’t take long for an arm to wrap around him as he’s tugged into and awkward side hug. When he looks up it’s to see Will comfortingly just there as much as he can be. They sit silently for what feels like hours before Steve finally speaks,

“I’m sorry”

“Why on earth are you apologizing?”

“I can usually keep it together better than this, they need me to be strong right now.”

“Nothing about this makes you weak. This is such a fucked up situation, this is worse than just losing him. And I know how important he was to the party. Im sorry I didn’t realize how important he was to you” Steve just shakes his head at him,

“He wasn’t not really, I only knew him after everything started going down. Only really spoke to him a handful of times. And honestly I didn’t even like him!” Steve’s voice picks up hear going higher and almost frantic, “He was annoying! And touchy! He gave me so much shit, and was always all over me! He flirted constantly, and was totally insufferable, and honestly I’m pretty sure Dustin liked him more than me! And! And….” His voice deflates on the last and, the fight and anxiety going out of him, “I couldn’t get him out of my fucking head man.” Will almost cant believe what he’s hearing.

“Steve are you?- Did you?” He almost cant ask the question, figured Steve would’ve told him by now if he was. What with their little group of queers that Steve tends to watch over. Heck Robin had even called him the unicorn collector! Like he was separate from them!

Steve just shakes his head frantically, “No! Or yes? More like maybe” He just sights putting his head back in his hands, “ I don’t even know anymore, there had always been fleeting attraction to guys but never anything- real, never anything like this! And then- well, he was gone before I ever got a chance to figure it out. Before we ever got a chance.” And he looks small, defeated like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, and Will can’t stand it.

“Well then we save him, we get him back, and you figure it out”

[kaminocasey]

Some Apology Part 2

Summary: You want to try to think things over before continuing but one thing leads to another.

Pairing: Kanan Jarrus x f Bridger sister!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Smut, oral (f receiving), feelings, Kanan is NOT her master, and she is NOT his padawan.

WC: 3.6K

A/N: WOW has it already been a year and a half since I wrote part one? I'm sorry. But I'm BACK, baby! And I'm going to beg that Kanera shippers refrain for coming for me please. That was part of the reason I put this story on the backburner for so long. I ALSO ship Kanera! Shout out to Idledreams for pumping me up and encouraging me with this! You're the best and ilysm!

PART ONE │ TAGLIST FORM │ PLAYLIST

Later that night, there’s a knock on the fresher door while you’re getting ready for bed.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” You reply around your toothbrush.

“It’s me.” Kanan’s voice is quiet on the other side as if he’s trying to avoid being heard from any of the others, so you open the door. Somehow, the ‘whoosh’ of the door is louder when you’re hoping no one will hear it.

He walks inside, letting the door slide shut behind him, despite you standing in nothing but a towel wrapped tightly around you. 

“Gee, make yourself comfy.” You roll your eyes, spitting into the sink and then rinsing it out and then gargling a bit of water. 

You throw your toothbrush back into your bag and then look at him, leaning against the sink as you do so.

“We should… talk this thing out before we… do anything.” He whispers.

“What thing?” You grin, amused.

It’s almost cute how flustered he is about your kiss earlier. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t also, but you’re trying really hard to play it cool. Sabine’s earlier comment about how you should just bang it out keeps repeating in your head. 

“This,” He gestures between the two of you, “thing. Us.”

“I didn’t know you wanted there to be an us, Kanan.” You cross your arms and you can sense his desire as he glances down at your chest briefly, before looking back up into your eyes.

The glance was so subtle and quick, anyone else would’ve missed it. 

“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t want there to be an ‘us’.” He tells you.

You look up into his silky blue eyes. “You want there to be an us.” 

He rolls his eyes with a smirk. “Didn’t I just say that?”

“Ugh. You’re still insufferable.” You grin, pulling him by his shirt toward you.

“Yeah, but you secretly like it.” He smirks before his lips gravitate down toward yours.

Once again, his hands grip your hips like he’s trying desperately to anchor himself to you. You’re so tempted to drop the towel, just to fluster him even more, but you’re also terrified to make that leap. 

Do you want to fuck Kanan? Yeah, obviously.

But right this very second? You don’t know. 

What if it severely messes everything up? 

“Wait, wait.” You pant against his lips, breathless, your eyes fluttering open. “Stop.”

He immediately pulls away, slightly. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?” 

You nod. “Yeah… I just… What if this is a monumentally terrible idea?”

“As opposed to our constant bickering?” He raises an eyebrow like he always does and you used to think it pissed you off, but now… it’s just endearing. 

Karabast…  

“I think we should think on it a bit more, before we… uh…” You look down between the two of you at his knee between your bare thighs and he clears his throat, understanding what you mean, pulling away fully. 

“You’re right.” He nods, “We can think about it.” 

He gives your elbow a soft squeeze. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight…” You murmur as he walks out of the fresher. 

You know it’s the right call to think about it, but still… The urge to go back on it and pull him back into the fresher is a little too strong. And as if he can sense it, he glances back down the hall of the Ghost at you with a smirk before walking into his quarters. 

For the next two days, Kanan becomes slightly more insufferable, which you didn’t think was even possible. Every time he enters a room that you’re in, his hands find their way to your lower back, or he finds a reason to squeeze past you, brushing up against you, drawing the breath from your lungs as you become the one flustered. And he knows exactly what he’s doing too. That’s what that smirk was about the other night after he left the fresher. He’s going to make this as difficult for you as possible. 

“We’re docking at Phoenix Cell now.” Ezra wakes you up with a shake like he does almost every morning.

“Alright.” You bat him away with a push.

“Get. Up.” Ezra pushes you back. “We’re going to be late. Sato already isn’t a fan of mine.”

“And whose fault is that?” You sit up to glare at him with sleepy eyes before sitting up and rubbing your eyes. 

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Kanan’s cheery voice is in your doorway and you give a half wave and a yawn.

Kanan walks in as Ezra walks out, standing over you, making you go warm in the face. 

“It’s too early for this.” You mumble, amused.

Kanan rolls his eyes and hands you a mug of caf. “Thought you could use this.” 

“Thank you.” You outstretch your hand for the mug and he brushes his fingers against yours. 

Whether or not it’s an accident, you can’t be sure. Either way, you take the mug and he sits next to you on the edge of your bunk. As you sit your feet down on the floor, you sit there next to each other in comfortable silence as you both drink your caf.

“I don’t mind this.” He admits. 

“Why, because I’m quiet when I first wake up?” You tease.

He elbows you in the side, teasingly and you both laugh. “Because when I wake up in the mornings, you’re the first face I want to see.” 

You look at him with parted lips. “I-”

“Hey, are you awake-” Sabine’s voice is in the doorway suddenly. “Oh. You’re up.”

You both look at her, flustered. She’s smirking between you and Kanan. Nothing is necessarily happening, but it still feels like she’s caught you in a compromising position.

“She’s up. Just had to coax her out of bed with some caf.” Kanan stands up and heads toward the doorway. 

“Oh, is that all?” Sabine wiggles her eyebrows at you suggestively, and you and Kanan both roll your eyes so hard that it’s almost a surprise they don’t pop out of their sockets.

She quickly makes her way out of your shared cabin and heads toward the exit of the ship to join Hera and Zeb. You can feel Kanan’s presence as you dig for clothes in your drawer and your fresher bag. 

“I feel the same way, you know.” You tell him as you pull out a shirt and pants. 

“I know.” You can feel the smile.

Walking into one of the briefing rooms on Phoenix Cell just as Commander Sato, Ahoska, Sabine, and Hera are talking, you greet Ahsoka with a wave but she glances between you and Kanan and shakes her head with an amused look as she leans against the wall.

Well, that was quick. 

You try to tune into what Sato and Hera are saying but you’re hyper aware of the way that Kanan’s gaze is solely on you from behind you. How it feels like he’s pressed up against you, but he’s not. His presence is just that impactful and compelling to you. 

“-If only we had more allies.” Hera’s voice snaps you out of your trance. 

“I know someone who might be able to help us.” Ahsoka speaks up, still glancing between you and Kanan before walking across the room, in thought. “A great military commander with a vast knowledge of the Outer Rim. He could assist us in finding a base, and his experienced leadership would make him a powerful ally.”

“How do we recruit this leader?” Sato, asks her. 

“That’s the problem. I lost track of him a long time ago and all my transmissions have gone unanswered.” She replies, crossing her arms.

You can sense the worry in her. Whoever this ally was, was someone important to her. 

Ezra speaks up. “We can find him. Let us try.” 

“Well, there is one option I’ve not yet attempted.” Ahsoka smiles softly. “I’ll be back and meet you at your ship.” 

Sato clicks off and everyone starts to leave, but Ahsoka stops you and Kanan in the hallway, just outside the door once everyone has left. 

“What’s up?” You ask her, nervously.

She places her hand on your shoulder in a reassuring way. You immediately feel more at peace and you’re not sure if that’s her doing some Jedi power thing or if it’s just Ahsoka as a person. 

“I notice something’s changed between the two of you.” She murmurs, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

“Uh…” Kanan rubs the back of his neck, looking at you. 

“Is that… a problem?” You ask her.

She chuckles. “Between two consenting adults? No, of course not.”

“But?” You ask.

“But… it is not wise, nor appropriate for a master and a padawan-”

Oh. Of course. It’s not like you hadn’t thought of that. But you don’t see yourself as Kanan’s padawan. You never have. You barely attend his lessons with Ezra. It was just evident that you’re also force sensitive like your brother. You’re not sure about the whole Jedi thing, but it’s still intriguing to you. And you also like to be prepared for as much as possible. It’s just not your path the way it is Ezra’s. “I’m not his padawan. That would be my brother.” You tell her. “I’ve sat in on some of his Jedi lessons with Ezra, but I don’t see him as my Master.”

Kanan smiles softly down at you and then looks at Ahsoka. “Nor do I see her as my padawan. I would never take advantage of her like that. She’s the one in control here, calling the shots.”

“Well, most of them.” You smirk up at him. 

Ahsoka chuckles and nods. “Well, just… be safe.” 

You know what she means and you decide that it’s time for you to go.

“Oh good Maker. Alright, I’ll see you guys…” You shake your head and walk away back toward the Ghost, embarrassed and hot in the face.

You can sense delight practically radiating through Kanan. He’s enjoying this far too much. 

“Is that an old tactical droid head?” Kanan asks Ahsoka when she walks into the cockpit after a while.

You all turn to see her, in fact, carrying an old, bulky tactical droid head. You’re pretty sure those droids were used by the Separatists in the Clone Wars, but you’re not exactly brushed up on the Clone War history, since the war didn’t really reach Lothal. 

“These droids were great at finding things, calculating.” Ahsoka scoffs. “Found my master and I a few times when we didn’t want to be found.”

“How in all the galaxy is that droid gonna find your friend?” Ezra asks, amused and Chopper warbles in agreement. 

“Well, I heard he was last seen in the Seelos system.” She replies, turning to leave. “You can start there.” 

“You’re not coming with us?” Ezra asks, confused.

It’s evident how much your brother looks up to her. 

“I have something else to attend to.” She tells him. 

“The Sith Lord.” Kanan realizes, solemnly. 

“There are questions… Questions that need answering.” She doesn’t look back when she says it, but you sense the worry within her. 

“I wish we could go with you.” Ezra tells her. 

“You have your own mission, Ezra. And Kanan, if you find my friend. You must trust him.” Ahsoka tells Kanan, turning back one last time.

“If he’s all the things you say, we can’t afford not to.” Kanan replies. 

“Trust him.” She says, her face going completely serious before the door closes and she leaves. 

“That was… ominous?” You look up at Kanan from your seat, confused. “Did anyone else think that was ominous as hell?”

Kanan shrugs, like he has no idea what that was about either. A few moments later, Hera pulls the Ghost away from Phoenix Cell and pushes into hyperspeed, headed toward the Seelos system. 

“Well, I don’t know about you, but ominous Jedi warnings always make me hungry.” You clap your hands together and get up to go down to the kitchen. “Anyone else?”

“I could eat.” Kanan pushes away from the wall, smirking at you, prepared to follow.

“I bet you could.” You mutter so only he hears you, only making his smirk break into a grin. 

The moment that the door slides shut behind Kanan, his hand is on your lower back, except when you try to turn to go down the ladder toward the kitchen, he grabs you by the belt loop and leads you into his bunkroom, hitting the lock button behind him. 

Arousal sets deep in your stomach, beginning to burn as you back up against his wall by his bed. The look in his eyes is unmistakable. He wants you just as bad as you want him. 

“Do you want this?” He whispers.

You nod as he approaches you.

“Words, sweetheart.” He murmurs, his voice low and sultry. 

You’ve never been so turned on in your life. “Yes. I want it. I want you.”

He smiles, walking toward you, eyes on your lips. Unable to tear your eyes away from his hands, he takes his gloves off first, and then his pauldron, dropping them to the extra bed on the other wall. He takes his thigh holster and belt off next, sitting them with his gloves and pauldron. 

He looks naked like this. Vulnerable. You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen him like this. And he trusts you to see him this way. 

Kanan stands mere centimeters from you now as you look into each other’s eyes. One of his hands slinks around your waist, pulling you against him as the other hand runs up the side of your neck, into your hair, guiding your head back slightly so that you look up at him, the color of his eyes, basically oceans, pulling you in with the tide. You’d happily drown in them. 

You’d drown in him. 

“I wish you knew the effect you’ve had on me since the day we met.” He whispers as his eyes search yours. 

Suddenly, you’re the one feeling naked. Like he sees right into your soul. 

You wish you could say you want to drop a witty, sarcastic reply, but you don’t. You just want him to kiss you. 

“I want to take my time with you.” His lips ghost over yours and you reach for his lips but he keeps you in place so he can make you understand that he means what he’s saying. “I’m going to take you apart piece by piece and put you back together again. Will you let me do that?” 

“Yes.” You whisper so breathlessly that you’re not sure if you actually said it out loud or not. 

“I’m only going to ask you one more time…” His hand on your waist backs you up against the wall again. “You’re sure you want this?”

“Stars… yes.” You whimper. “Kanan, please.” 

With that, he kisses you. This kiss isn’t like the others, though. This one is carnal and desperate. It’s what you’ve been holding back from each other. It’s what you’ve needed from the start. All the bickering and fighting and clashing has led to this very moment. 

Your tongues tangle in perfect movement, no longer fighting against each other. You have no reason to fight it anymore. His groan vibrates against your own and you have to remind yourself to keep it down so no one else hears it. Both of his hands find their way into your hair as his knee finds its way between your thighs again, keeping you in place. You can feel his length harden against your thigh and you gasp into your mouth when he pushes it against you harder. 

“Fuck, Kanan…” You moan as you grind against his thigh, shamelessly. 

He pulls away to watch you, his lips swollen. “That’s right. Keep going, sweetheart.” 

Your whimper sounds so pathetic, but neither of you can find it in yourselves to care as you feel your panties rub against your clit just right. Your mind wanders to his fingers and how you just know they’d absolutely devastate you in the best way.

“I need you.” You beg. 

You never thought you’d beg for any man, let alone this one in front of you. But here you are, needy and coming apart just like he promised. 

He smirks against your lips. “You really wanna stop before cumming?” 

You let out a breathless laugh. “No, but I can’t stop thinking about your fingers.”

Kanan pulls away to look at you, his gaze darkening. “These fingers?”

When he sticks his fingers into your mouth, you nearly drop. His fingers taste a little salty but not unpleasant. He spreads his index and middle fingers apart across your tongue and back together, pushing back a little farther.

“See, because I think these fingers need to be just as wet as your pussy is right now before I fuck you with them.” He whispers. “What do you think?” 

You close your eyes and nod around his fingers as you continue to ride the friction out against your cunt, a little quicker now. Until he stops you, making your eyes pop open. 

“Undo your belt.” He commands, taking his fingers out of your mouth. “And then take off your pants.”

You don’t even think to hesitate, eagerly doing as you're told. You unclick your belt and drop it to the floor, unbuttoning your pants as you kick off your boots. You slide out of your pants and your underwear. 

“Now your jacket and top.” He smirks. 

“No fair. You’re way too dressed.” You complain.

He chuckles, lowly, rolling his eyes. “Just do what you're told.” 

You roll your own eyes and take your jacket off, staring up at him before taking your top and chest binder off, dropping it all to the floor.

“Beautiful. As always.” He smirks.

You start to say something, but it’s stuck in your throat as you watch Kanan slowly drop to his knees. Your jaw practically drops with him as he leans in close, placing kiss after kiss to your thighs. You lean against the wall, your hand flying to his hair immediately. 

Knowing you’ve never been touched like this before makes everything even more intense. It feels like the Force is practically buzzing between the two of you. Like electricity. 

He slides his wet fingers through your soaked folds gently and you nearly drop but he catches you by sliding his arm up your front, roaming your breasts before settling on your sternum. He looks up at you as he starts to insert his soaked fingers into you, making you groan loudly.

“Shh shh…” He murmurs. “Be good for me.” 

You try to nod, but only a whimper manages to escape. 

“Stars, you’re so tight.” He whispers. “And so wet. This all for me?”

“Y-yes…” You whisper. 

“Can I just-” He looks at your dripping cunt and groans, unable to hold back any longer. 

His mouth finds your clit easily and you let out the sharpest gasp, fire shooting straight through you and into his mouth. 

“You taste so…” He groans loudly this time and starts to guide you over to his bed, thankfully. You aren’t sure your legs were going to hold up any longer. 

As you lay back, he reaches his long slender fingers into you so deeply, curling against the spongy part inside of you you’ve barely been able to reach. It’s like your body has been waiting for this exact moment. For him. Each thrust of his finger and each flick of his tongue brings you closer to an ecstasy you’ve never reached before. 

“Kanan, I’m gonna cum…” You cry, your entire body flushing with heat as you clench tightly around his fingers. “I’m gonna-”

“Let go. Cum for me, baby.” His voice is raspy, full of need. 

You pull his hair and he growls against your cunt in a new way that your orgasm is practically ripped from your body, having to bite your hand so you don’t scream. He groans even harder as your spent body shakes against his face, helping you ride out your high. 

Both of you panting, he rests his warm cheek against your thigh, looking up at you with a new look that screams a word you’re still completely and terribly scared of. 

“You uh… didn’t get to-”

“Oh… I um…” He looks down at his pants and you sit up, a little dizzily you might add, and see that he has a damp spot against his pants. 

Oh. 

“That’s-” You murmur.

“Embarrassing… yeah.” He starts to stand up, but you pull him back to you, falling to the floor with him so you’re in his lap.

“No, I was going to say hot.” You inform him. “Don’t put words into my mouth, Jarrus.” 

He scoffs with an amused smirk. “That right?” 

You nod, leaning in to kiss him. 

“I’d like to put something other than words into your mouth.” He murmurs against your lips.

“I bet you would.” You hum. “Honestly, The fact that I could make you cum and not even have to touch you? Damn.”

“And you say I’m the insufferable one.” He teases.

“Oh you are. But it’s good to know that tongue can be used for more than fighting.” You kiss him again, seemingly unable to stop.

“And I’m just getting started.” He smirks against your lips.

It’s a good thing you still have another couple hours before you get to where you’re going, because you plan on finding out. 

You also plan on never telling Sabine that her ‘bang it out’ method actually works.

TAGS: @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idledreams @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz  @burningfieldof-clover @rebelsriley @starstruckkenobi @bamfahsoka @cecilyjmorgenstern

[lokisgoodgirl]

Captain's Orders [Avenger!Loki x Fem Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: (11) A mission on a superyacht with Loki turns into an erotically charged disaster. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smuttish. Language. "Friends" with benefits. Mild Violence/Blood. (w/c 4.3k)

“Where’s Laufeyson?” you asked nonchalantly, shimmying the lace topped stocking up your thigh. Nat’s eyebrow arched, watching you attach the suspender with a snap. “Why? Got the itch already? We’ve been here fifteen minutes.” You scoffed, turning away as you felt your cheeks heat. Wanda’s dirty chuckle sounded behind you as she dug through her kit bag, fishing out a push-up bra. “I was only asking.” you huffed defensively, slipping on a pair of the three sets of heels laid out on the floor. “Usually someone keeps an eye on him.” It was Nat’s turn to laugh. “Mmmm, we all know how you love keeping an eye on him, right Wanda?” she said. “Right.” Wanda said with a smirk, fastening the buttons of her tight uniform.

“Let’s not pretend I’m the only one who looks at him, I mean come on…he’s hot.” you huffed, swivelling doe-eyed between your giddy friends. They glanced at each other before breaking out in another short snort of laughter. “We look, you touch; ‘Agent’…” Nat drawled, mimicking Loki’s voice. You rolled your eyes, shaking out the redundantly small white apron before tying it around your waist. A ridiculously short, tight skirt clung to your hips, making you wince as you tried to bend. “It’s just sex…” you murmured, trying and failing to catch the right angle for the ties. “It doesn’t mean anything, we fight and then we end up...you know.” Wanda made grabby hands in the air, making you shuffle over so she could loop the bow properly. “Why does he refuse to use your actual name though? It’s weird.” she said thoughtfully, pulling the knot tight to your waist. “I think it’s a power thing.” you pondered, “like he’s goading me or something. He does that.” Wanda growled lustily, pulling you back to her chest and gyrating theatrically against your ass. “A powerrr thing…” she purred deeply, echoing Nat’s impression before you batted her away. “I don’t know why you put up with it.” Nat said, leaning forward and smoothing a sheen of red on a perfect line to her lips. “I think we all know why she puts up with it.” Wanda cooed, as Nat passed her the tube. You put your hands on your hips, an extended sigh filling the space as you stalled for time. “Yes, he’s an arsehole. Yes, he’s insufferable. But I mean...it’s Loki, it comes with the-” “-best fuck you’ve ever had?” Nat purred, raising her eyes seductively to yours in the mirror. Wanda turned expectantly, her eyebrows twitching. “Oh absolutely.” you said, straightening your apron. “But he doesn’t know that.” They both burst into laughter. “I’m pretty sure Laufeyson considers himself the best lay anyone’s ever had, even when they haven’t actually ridden that ride.” Wanda chuckled, hoisting her breasts higher beneath the low cut white shirt. “Damn, this thing is fucking tight, huh?” Suddenly the three of you wobbled to the side. You clutched the wall, steadying yourself before giving a brief glance out the manhole. A speedboat had docked beside the yacht. “They’re here.” you murmured, taking the lipstick from Wanda’s outstretched hand.

“Ladies, you know your positions.” Nat said, her voice suddenly solemn. “In twenty minutes, the boat will be in international waters. Any hint of an agreed arms deal between these assholes and we take them down – those are our objectives. These motherfuckers are armed and extremely dangerous. But not as dangerous as we are.” she winked. You nodded as Natasha cast a keen eye over you both, inspecting the details of your completely inappropriate crew uniforms. “God, can you believe women actually have to wear these things for sleazebags like this?” Wanda muttered, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “At least they get the night off.” Nat replied sarcastically, before giving you a piercing glare. “And no sneaking off to fuck Laufeyson during active duty, alright?” she warned, tilting her head knowingly. You felt your skin burning again, a splutter rising in your throat. “That was one time.” you said, “and technically...technically...the mission was over.” “And Scotland?” Wanda chimed. The two of them folded their arms in sync. “OK two times…” you relented. “But it’ll be fine, he’s tucked away somewhere out of sight in case we need him so I’m fine. I’m cool.” They continued to stare at you, unconvinced. “I’m cool.” you repeated slowly through gritted teeth, holding their sceptical gaze. “Trust me…” you said, unable to stop yourself from talking to fill the silence. “He isn’t as irresistible as he thinks he is. I have it under control.” Nat raised a finger, her brow arched. “No fucking Loki Laufeyson. Captain’s orders.” she said. “Roger that.” you said.

One corner of Loki’s mouth curled in a knowing smirk as he observed the control panel of the yacht's cockpit. He ran his dextrous hands over the ship’s instruments of power; perfectly polished knobs and levels begging to be tugged. There was a yell from outside. A motor roared against the breakwater of the ship as a speedboat pulled alongside the ostentatious vessel of which Loki found himself unexpectedly in command. His smile stretched wider, closed lips pulled tight against his teeth. He was enjoying this. ‘The problem with these Russians’ Loki had keenly observed to a room of sceptical eyes at the mission briefing, ‘is that they have no style.' Rogers had huffed dramatically, tutting in that way he was known to do. ‘They may have no style, Laufeyson...but they have a weapons cache that could level a mid-size country and we have to stop them. There’s nothing stylish about genocide.’ Loki had held his tongue, but he knew the true path to success on this mission. To success in all things, perhaps. He combed his fingers past his temples, flashing a glance to himself in the mirror. Style. He wondered if the muscle which twitched at the corner of your eye when you were trying not to stare at him would come out to play tonight. The way that you re-adjusted your hips during those wholly inconvenient clenches beneath your little panties. You were always so wet for him. Desperately devoted in your body, if not your mind. Or your heart. He frowned, running his eyes analytically over his reflection. For someone who vexed him so, you were...intriguing. It had been millennia since the last time his passions had been so inflamed. So raw. And however entertaining, this presented a problem. Loki pursed his lips, gaze hardening as he sought a barrier to the mental images of you with those perfectly curved legs wrapped around another’s hips. Another, lesser man’s name building as a rumbling groan in your throat. Barnes. Rogers. Banner. Wilson, even. Or god forbid, Lang. He shuddered.

Whoever it was, they had a hold over you. And Loki was running out of patience.

Your submission was long overdue to his finely crafted overtures, and for a moment, Loki doubted his initial plot to stoke the fires of your passion using the hostility that simmered in your veins. Perhaps he had been mistaken. He shook his head with a low chuckle. His gifts of transfiguration did not simply extend to objects of the physical realm. All he needed was that...spark. And time. Thor, he thought with a sudden grimace. Blast that ridiculous red dress; he chided bitterly, recalling the night that ruined his carefully planned stratagem. Any Asgardian lady would have known. And yet, wasn’t that what drew him to you? Your naïve ways and the irritation that became his obsessive need. The longing to tease each venomous eye roll from your pretty little sensibilities. But now, his brother knew what Loki had known since after your fateful tryst in the dank cave where you gave yourself to him without yielding an inch. To scale the heights of ecstasy with a god and remain unmoved to his graces was...curious. But after the revelation that followed, it all made sense. Loki chuckled quietly as he pulled the stiff cap down his brow, remembering the bubbling fury on your face this morning after what you thought you had overheard. The red lace. The primal jealousy it invoked. The thought made molten arousal run thick and hot beneath his placid exterior. He could feel the perfectly fitted cotton at his hips tighten at the memory of the words he had come to rewind over and over as he stroked his aching manhood beneath tangled sheets in the dead of night. I hate you, Loki Laufeyson. A shiver of desire rolled down the god’s spine. How sweet that siren’s fire burned against the banal expectations of this life in which he found himself; the passion in her every animalistic grunt of his name as she succumbed against her better judgement. She knows not, Loki thought; nostrils flaring at the power he held. How could she. But she will. His lip twitched, observing the dent of his cheekbone flash into view, eyes sparking in the way that made your fragile knees buckle beneath his touch. The acceptance of his influence that you utterly loathed. Because it makes her feel..., he thought; smoothing his palms down the pristine white jacket tight to his stomach...alive.

You stood with your chin titled upwards, staring placidly at the wall as instructed. A tray of shot glasses lay flat in your palm, the other hand balanced seductively on your hip. Wanda was poised on the opposite side of the entryway, while Natasha waited behind the bar. The high ceiling of the superyacht was more akin to a hotel, with lavish chandeliers casting a soft glow towards the cool breeze from outside. A door slammed, brash voices peppering the air drawing closer. “Kapitan?”

The voice was loud and commanding. Their leader, you assumed. “They want to speak to the Captain.” Nat murmured into her microphone as the huge man thudded down the hallway towards you. Wanda shot you a knowing glance before she spoke. “Thank god we have you here to translate.” she muttered through a forced smile as the brutes plodded closer. The light scent of jasmine in the air was strangled by a waft of stale cigarettes and dark deeds clinging to their overcoats like black on night.

“Gentleman.” a firm, smouldering voice sounded from behind. Your core clenched, trying not to let your ankle give way in those ridiculous heels. One of the burly men removed two shot-glasses from your tray before knocking them back in sequence, helping himself to a lingering leer down your cleavage. He picked up two more. You smiled, fluttering your eyelashes. Loki came into view in your periphery, standing tall and proud at the top of several low steps. He began speaking in perfect Russian, unfamiliar syllables tripping from his tongue like the crack of a leather paddle against willing flesh. The men seemed satisfied, descending on you and Wanda to remove of the rest of the alcohol. You clasped the empty tray to your stomach as they dispersed, hoping that the fizzing adrenaline in your belly would subside. Don’t look at him. You tilted your chin to the side, catching the sight of him casually stalk closer in your direction. Fuck. “Where is the actual Captain?” you muttered through gritted teeth, maintaining the glacial set of your features. “He is, regrettably, indisposed. I assumed the position.” Loki purred innocently, rocking back on his heels as the Russians exploded with raucous laughter between themselves, reclining on the circular sofas. “Indisposed?” you hissed quietly, warning in your eyes. Loki smirked. “He’s quite well. He is having a well earned rest in the cockpit.” You raised an eyebrow. “In the cupboard.” Loki added, smugly. You inhaled sharply, feeling Nat’s judging stare burning into the back of your head. “You didn’t think I’d let the opportunity to let you see me in a naval captain’s uniform go to waste, did you darling?” Loki hummed. “How little you think of me.” he goaded, casting a sweeping glance around the seating area. You took the opportunity to give him a quick look up and down, an instantly regrettable decision.

Pure white military cotton hung against every angle of his body, perfectly fitted to the sharp edges of his muscular torso. The tunic was snug, straining gently on his broad shoulders as he clasped his hands behind his back. Three bands of golden edging trimmed the cuffs, matching buttons marching upwards to the stiff neckline. Medallions decorate the breast pocket, his shirt and tie pristine below that lethal jawline. The tunic hugged every straight edge of his frame, fitted to the edge of decency. You felt your breaths quicken, looking away to lessen the heavy beat of hot blood that had begun thumping between your legs. “Smile, won’t you darling?” he murmured, staring ahead before welcoming the final member of the nefarious party with a curt nod. The stranger strode past, not acknowledging you or Wanda, before taking his place at the centre of the gathered men. You glanced at Loki, accidentally meeting his eyes. They smouldered beneath the rim of a peaked-cap, the stiff white material sitting flawlessly against his alabaster skin. Shadows ended at the tips of his cheekbones, his lips curling in a low smirk as he relished your restraint. The god’s dark hair was twisted back in a knot beneath the band, a solitary curl snaking it’s way mischievously down the side of his neck. You caught the scent of his cologne, spiced sandalwood catching in the back of your throat. “Now be a good girl for me, won’t you?” he purred condescendingly, before giving you a soft wink. You stared at him coldly, compliance for the mission’s sake stretching to your cheeks with no hint of warmth. “That’s it.” he said quietly, his eyes flashing. “This wasn’t the plan.” you murmured, maintaining the farcical air of pleasantries for wandering eyes. Loki rocked on his heels again, raising his chin as he considered your statement with mock-sincerity. “Plans change.” he growled with a tilt of his head. His eyes ran down your skimpy outfit and back to your hard stare. The god leant forward, one of his palms resting on your lower back with the lightest of touches. Loki’s breath warmed your cheek, feeling your eyelids flutter shut. “For posterity, you are not the only one who delights in novel visual stimulation...Agent.” he whispered. Your stomach flipped as his touch vanished, the click of his heels on the polished floor the only mark of his retreat.

“BOLSZE.” one of the Russians roared, thumping the circular glass table in the middle of their circle. You saw Wanda feign fear, blinking quickly as she widened her eyes in faux-surprise. Lowering your chin to contain a smirk, you followed her to the bar where Nat waited with several full bottles of liquor. She lined up a new line of shot-glasses, beginning to pour. “Where’s the Captain?” Nat said without moving her lips, eyes flickering up to where the Russians were reclining back on the crescent shaped sofa. “In the cockpit cupboard.” you divulged reluctantly, feeling Wanda bristle beside you. “He’s fine, apparently.” you added, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I told you one of us should have been watching him..." A low chime of bells sounded from the surround system. The three of you glanced up at the nearest one hanging over the bar. “Good evening, gentleman and...ladies.” Loki’s voice purred through the speaker, the baritone laden with sexual magnetism. “This is your Captain speaking.” Nat rolled her eyes. “You will be able to feel the vibrations of my mighty vessel trembling up your thighs in three...two...one.” The yacht’s engine roared to life. You could just picture his stupid smug face smirking as he held the microphone to his lips in the cockpit. Widening his stance as he commandeered the helm in that ridiculously erotic uniform, his long fingers sliding over the control panel. “In a mere twenty minutes time, you will be be able to see a familiar, proud erection from the starboard side of the ship. Truly one of nature’s marvels.” he goaded playfully, regal tone thick in the air.

The rocks were the signal that the boat was passing into international waters, where your particular brand of justice could be carried out without any raised eyebrows. You wondered if the actual Captain that Steve had arranged would have sounded as panty-wettingly condescending relaying the same coded information. Somehow, you suspected not. “He’s gonna blow this.” Nat muttered, topping off the final shot glass in the row. “Not if this one blows it first...if you catch my drift.” Wanda nodded her head towards you, her plump lips spasming as she held back a laugh. Loki was now speaking fluent Russian through the microphone, muttering courtesies that you hoped were not as inflammatory as those he had bestowed on your own ears. The chimes sounded again, and you breathed a sigh of relief before turning towards the group of men. This mission couldn’t be over quickly enough. You sashayed towards them, the swing of your hips accentuated by the tightness of your skirt. A wet slick had formed between your legs. His fucking voice, really come on; you thought, placing the tray down on the table. A meaty palm met your ass with a loud smack. You let out a coquettish giggle, straightening and pulling the skirt down. All their eyes were on you, running ravenously across the uniform which left little to the imagination. The tops of your lace hold-ups were visible below the skirt hem, the lines of the suspender belt flashing as you turned. The next fifteen minutes passed uneventfully while you and Wanda allowed wandering hands and eyes to roam freely with every trip back and forth to the bar. Through the window, you could see a tall rock formation grow closer on the horizon. The erection, you thought with a smirk. A finger signal from Nat caught your attention, making you tilt towards the band of men grouping closer together making animated gestures. A sheet of paper had made its way on to the table, a golden fountain pen being passed from fist to fist as each made their mark.

“Bingo.” Nat’s voice purred in your ear, as you and Wanda took up your covert positions for shit going down. The final boss signed his name, pushing the paper to the centre as two locked briefcases came into view. Codes were punched into them, a series of beeps sounding before the latches sprung. You saw Nat’s eyes flicker to the window, seeing the rock formation side by. “Now.” she whispered. In one swift heave, she gracefully swung over the counter of the bar as you and Wanda sprang into action. Before the men closest to you could reach for their guns, you had kicked them squarely in the chest, sending them backwards. The air was a racket of infuriated cries and growls as bones were broken, arms twisted and vulnerable manhoods stomped by killer heels. You hooked your forearm around the largest man’s throat, giving it a sharp tug as you held on to his squirming bulky form kneeling in front of you, his arms flailing with a knife in hand. Wanda punched him in the face as she passed, making him go limp. Nat’s hair flipped back and forth as she tried to wrestle a gun from the final henchman, kneeing him in the groin. He growled with pain, a final snarl escaping him before she twisted beneath his arms and flipped him on his back. The goon hit the ground with a heavy thud, motionless. Nat dusted her hands. “Well it looks like we can all go hom-” Her eyes widened. A sudden pang seared in your side, making you stumble. “Sit…” Wanda said, her brow furrowed as she pressed a hand to your stomach. With growing panic, you realised that your white shirt was soaked with blood; spreading like one of Loki’s theatrical illusions across the cotton. “Oh my g-” you gasped as you fell onto the sofa behind you. “The one time we can’t wear armour…” Nat growled, falling to her knees in front of you and inspecting the damage. “I’ll radio base for immediate-” “Don’t touch her.” Loki roared, throwing the double doors wide. You groaned, pain crashing over the walls of adrenaline that had shielded the initial waves. He strode across the room with a look in his eyes that was hot enough to cauterise the gaping wound in your side ,placing a scathing heel-stomp on the back of one of the mobsters crumpled on the floor. “L-Loki, don’t…” you said shakily, willing him to save his theatrics. “How did he know?” Wanda muttered to Nat with confusion knitting her brow, watching Loki kneel in front of you with suspicion. “Know what?” Loki snapped. “That your incompetence caused this perfectly preventable situation?” “Us?” Wanda hissed, “You were the one that was supposed to be on stand-by, not fannying around playing dress up.” Loki scoffed, sucking air between his teeth as he batted Wanda’s hand away from your stomach. You winced, clenching your muscles against the change in pressure. “Fuck- bleeding out over here. Jesus.” you groaned through gritted teeth as one of Loki’s arms slid around your back. “What do you think you’re doing?” Nat yelled as Loki scooped you effortlessly to lie against his chest, his other arm under your knees. “Unless you wish to guard her when these cretins wake; I am taking her to the cockpit until our esteemed colleagues arrive with their particularly useless brand of aid. Is that satisfactory, Romanoff?” he hissed, his tone sharp and biting. Your vision was going blurry, but his cheekbones grazing your nose were still as sharp as vinegar. The muscle in Loki’s jaw clenched, his hardened face scouring theirs. Daring them.

Without another word, he spun on his heels and walked quickly back from where he came, tightening his hold around your aching body. “Loki…” you mumbled groggily, as he lay you on the cushioned bench by the helm. “Be still.” he muttered, frowning as he peeled your shirt upwards. You winced again, before softening to his movements; realising with mild-interest that the touch of his cool fingers against your wound felt more intimate than him being inside you. “Relax, darling.” he rumbled softly while his palms swept around the curve of your waist. Your head grew heavy, falling back against the cushions as your side warmed. You remembered when you were five years old, and somehow you had ended up outside in the snow barefoot. When your mother whisked you back inside, the hot bath she ran made your feet itch and tingle as the heat expanded every frozen cell beneath the skin. How you had screamed. But you didn’t scream this time. Loki’s magic melted deep into your body, tendrils winding viscerally around torn veins and muscle. You could feel it filling the hole made by the Russian’s knife, smoothing the sides together and pulling. A jolt made you gasp and arch against the sofa. “Fuck.” you sighed, opening your eyes. Loki’s features were set in concentration, searching your face while his palms cupped over your stomach. “Better?” he murmured. Tentatively you slid your fingers beneath his, holding your breath as you braced for pain. There was none. It must have shown on your face because Loki broke out into a closed smile; a real one that reached his eyes. “Better.” you said. “Thank you.” you added; bemusement layering a coldness on your words. The skin was perfect, only the drying layer of blood any indication of what had passed. “How did you know I was hurt?” you muttered, running you eyes up the patches of crimson darkening on Loki’s white tunic. He glanced down, before gesticulating casually and making the stains melt into themselves. Pristine once more. “Call it, intuition.” he said slowly, a tell-tale twitch of his brow making you frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you snapped, straightening. Loki rolled his eyes. “Not everything I say is formulated to irk you, Agent.” he huffed, standing. Since when, you thought; the words forming behind your teeth before he lifted the tannoy, a low buzz sounding as he pressed the side. “Call off emergency rescue. The invalid is fine, tis’ but a scratch. Turning the vessel now, ETA in thirty minutes.” You frowned. “Why did you lie?” Loki shrugged. “If anything, it’s very on brand.” he muttered matter-of-factly, staring ahead as the massive yacht began to turn. Did I...hurt his feelings? you thought suddenly, shifting awkwardly on the red-streaked sofa. Loki sighed. “Do you really think I was commissioned on this outing to be your back-up, Agent?” he spat sarcastically, throwing a glance over his shoulder with a chiding pout. “Subtlety, combat skills and your feminine wiles were required. My assistance, was not. At least...not in the traditional regard.” “Are you going to keep talking like this for the next thirty minutes because if you are, I’m taking a nap.” you mumbled, fluffing the pillow before realising your blood was smeared across it.

“Rogers suspected that my embargoed powers of healing may be required.” he said, flicking some buttons. “But you are now bound to secrecy. He feels that it may make the team more complacent in their endeavours if they know they can be renewed. And I may not always be here…” he trailed off, readjusting his stance at the helm. “Right…” you said, regarding him with suspicion. “That doesn’t explain how you knew I was injured like...seconds after I did, from all the way up here.” You saw a silent smile pressing on his dimples in profile, craning your neck to get a better view. Your eyes ran down his back, broad muscles shifting beneath the pristine starched cotton as he set the ship’s course. They lingered on his ass, encased in the straight legged trousers that were just a little too snug. You bit your lip. “I think the better question is, how do I know that right now you wish for nothing more than to take you over this control panel. Legs spread and arms splayed to receive my attentions...Agent.” he purred, shifting a level with a theatrical clunk using the base of his palm. You shifted in the seat, squeezing your thighs together. The golden buttons flashed in the sunset low through the panoramic windows as he turned, pulling the brim of his hat down in a purposeful tug. “And not our well-trodden attentions, either.” he murmured, the slant of his brows betraying his amusement. “Something...new.” You felt your cheeks heat as Loki propped an arm against the ship’s wheel, resting back gently as he studied your reaction. “It would be my pleasure to sink myself into that beautiful arse of yours, Agent…” he purred, running a finger casually along the helm. “If you’ll permit me to steward fantasy into reality, of course.” You squirmed, the sudden thrill making a violent shiver roll down your spine. He was right. You’d been inexplicably thinking of nothing else since you saw him in that ridiculous uniform. Loki smiled, seeing your hips tilt upwards in an involuntary thrust; your wet lips parting as you tried to form words. “I expect answers.” you said, the stoic words trembling under the weight of your arousal. An hot slick had formed between your thighs, the sight of his long fingers running teasingly over his hardening cock through the tight white pants making your sex ache with a feral longing. “And you shall have them, Agent.” he hummed. “Now peel off that little skirt and get over here." His voice dropped to a growl, smouldering eyes narrowing playfully. "Captain’s orders.”

Continued in Captain's Orders: New Depths Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection

Tags (cont in comments) @gigglingtigger @holymultiplefandomsbatman @muddyorbsblr @xorpsbane @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @loopsisloops @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @holdmytesseract @joyful-enchantress @sititran @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @lokiprompts @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @filthyhiddles @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @soldeloki @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @psychospore @lunarnights95

[jieunoclock]

Love Your Feeling (JJK) || Chapter three

- Cold₊˚⊹♡

“How long have you been out? You’re radiating coldness” he says “I left around dinner so like 2,5 hours?” “You walked here?!”

Pair: jjk x femOC, college students, best friends

Word count: 7k

Warning: this chapter includes explicit scenes⚠️

masterlist || taglist

!Friends to Lovers, Protective Brother, Secret Dating, Friends with Benefits, Angst, Mature content, Dysfunctional Family, Fluff, Smut, Mentions of Alcoholism and Abuse

——————————————————————₊˚⊹♡

“Yoongi please” I frantically walk after him, out of my room. He’s ready to fight, can see him rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie. He doesn’t listen to me and opens the front door.

“YOONGI” I yell, which makes him turn around. He sees red, his eyes are dark. It scares me, but I’ve seen it so many times that I’ve gotten used to it.

He lets go of the doorknob and walks towards me, pointing his finger at me.

“You’re staying put, Take care of the drunk,” he says, those words make me boil open. I push him. “You’re not going anywhere! Leave him the fuck alone” I yell.

“Don’t fucking push me!” He yells back at me. Pushes me back, so hard I fall to the ground.

“I’ll ghost him” I plead. I’m worried, so worried something will happen. Something bad. “I’ll ghost him I swear, please don’t leave me alone” Something shifts in his expression as he hears that last sentence.

“I’ll let it slide for now. If I find out you’ve been texting him again, you’ll regret it. understand?” He Threatens. I nod in agreeance.

“Can I please have my phone back..” he throws my phone back at me on the ground, sliding across the floor towards me.

I pick it up, great.. that’s a new crack. He disappears back into his room, slamming his door shut loudly.

It’s about a week after the party. Taehyung had apologized to me, he explained what happened. He told me that it wasn’t what it looked like and that he really enjoyed talking to me that evening.

And about the girl. Apparently, She’d been bothering him for weeks, after he rejected her. She had gone onto him whilst I was gone, way too bold sitting on his lap. That’s what I saw. We exchanged numbers and we’ve been texting ever since.

Yoongi and I were eating dinner when Taehyung texted me, Yoongi saw the notification pop up.

Tae💗:  did you eat yet?

I knew Yoongi was against me dating, but that he’d get this mad? Taehyung and I aren’t even together.

I don’t want to be here, I wanna leave. I grab my zip up hoodie from the coat hanger and leave the apartment. Hood up, it’s one of Jungkook’s that I took some time. It falls over the dress that I'm wearing. Grey and black striped, fold over, off the shoulder, long sleeved. It’s short I know.. but it looks good I can’t lie.

Even with Jungkook’s hoodie over the long sleeve. The late evening cold hits my thighs, and I try to ignore it walking further away from home.

Tears fall from my cheek as I walk and walk and walk. I don’t even know where I am at this point.

By now the sun has completely gone under, only the light of houses and street lanterns that shine on the ground.

I keep my head down, not wanting anyone to see I’m crying. Yoongi has always been so protective, after our dad he feels like he’s responsible in some way. But he seems to forget that I’m my own person, I can care for myself.

He’s taken traits from Dad, he was never a good father. Turned Mum into a drunk and left whenever he wanted to. Still does, haven’t seen him in months. Every time he leaves I hope he doesn’t come back, hope it’ll be the last time I see him. It’s even more insufferable when he’s with us.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, well... Jungkook’s pocket. I grab the phone, to see an incoming call from Jungkook.

“Hello?” I try to sound as normal as possible, it’s difficult since I’ve been frantically crying.

“Bun!! What u up to, wanna do something tonight?” He asks, sounding so happy. it makes me smile a little.

I sniff my tears away “Uhm yeah sure. Yours?” I ask, I don’t really know where else. We never go to mine, with obvious reasoning.

“You okay?” Fuck, he can definitely hear me now. I don’t want to admit anything to him, hate talking about home. I feel like I’ve talked about home too many times by now.

“Yeah no just cold” is what I respond. People sniff when they’re cold.

“You’re out? Why?” He questions.

“Ah just didn’t really feel like staying home.” It’s now the first time I look at where I am, I don’t recognize anything. I’m lost, try to find a bus stop to take to his.

“Where are you, I’ll come pick you up”

“Uhm.. I don’t know, I got lost I think” Who even gets lost in the city they live in, you don’t get lost easily. I can hear him laugh on the other side of the line.

“Stay there sent your location” he hangs up. Nice way of saying goodbye. I scoff at my phone as if he can hear me.

Though I oblige. I sent him my location and sit on a nearby bench.

JK: Yun, you’re like on the other side of the city. Tf😭

I didn’t even notice it. Looking at my location, I even passed the river. It’ll take him at least 30 minutes to get here. I look at the time to see it’s 9 pm, I’ve been gone for like what 2 hours by now?

My phone is on 3% great, I graze my finger across the new crack. It’s a bad one, I can feel it’s sharp as I touch it. Patiently waiting for Jungkook to pick me up.

As expected it takes him about 25 minutes to get to my location, he must’ve driven fast. He honks at me twice, which makes me notice he’s here. I quickly get up and go to his car. I’m absolutely freezing at this point so I’m glad to go somewhere warm.

I open his car door and sit down. “Jeez you look terrible” Is he serious? “Thank you?”

I give him a dirty look, showing that I didn’t appreciate his comment. “Sorry,” he says as he gives me his phone, to put on a playlist I like.  

“What happened, your makeup's all.. blehgg” he says, I have to admit that makes me chuckle a little. “Just Yoongi, I don’t wanna talk about it,” I tell him, and he leaves it at that.

“You can call me anytime you know that, right? How long have you been out? You’re radiating coldness” he says as he drives off.

“I left around dinner so like 2,5 hours?” I respond as I try to cover myself up with his hoodie to warm up a little bit more.

“You walked here?!” He exclaims.

“Yeah..” I didn’t even notice time passed, was purely focused on getting the fuck out of that area.

“What happened? Did your dad come back?” He knows about everything, even knows my family dynamic. “No..”

“Yoongi found out I’d been texting a guy.” I can see his knuckles get white around the steering wheel, he knows how Yoongi thinks of me, dating guys. Experienced it himself, and took Yoongi ages to get convinced we were just friends.

I put on my playlist, Lily Chou Chou now blasting through the speakers.

“Is that my hoodie?” He asks. I look at him, he must’ve noticed me trying to use it as a blanket to get warm. “I should buy you a new one” he adds. The hoodie isn’t in a great state. It’s old, has a big rip on its left arm, the big 7 logo on the back is peeling off a little, it’s flat from how worn out it is, still having the faint smell of his cologne to it.

“No! I like it” I hug myself. “Shows personality” I purse my lips, as it makes him chuckle. “Your outfit looks good, like the dress” he compliments. “Thanks! That‘s why I wore it” he laughs once again, it makes me cheer up a little.

“Gosh I love Lily” I groan, leaning my head on his window. “I know, she’s good,” he says. Too bad she isn’t real, I’d kill to go to a concert of hers. She’d make amazing albums.

Still cold I turn up the heat, adjusting it to make all the fans blow my place. “Still cold?” He asks. “Yeah.. your hoodie is shit,” I say.

It makes him laugh once again, I shoot him a smile.

I feel him reffing up, driving faster. To get home earlier. The roads are pretty empty, due to the time. Most people at home, with their families.

I shiver, I’m not getting warmer. Even the warm wind feels cold to my skin. But it doesn’t take long for Jungkook to park in front of his apartment.

He gets outside of his car, and I follow. His apartment complex is far fancier than where I live. They’ve got an elevator, and clean tiles with some sort of lobby. Nobody works there, so it’s nothing like a reception. Still, it’s more luxurious than mine.

We used to have an elevator, but it broke down. The owner of the building didn’t want to repair it, so we’re forced to take the stairs. It’s old, people throw their rubbish out next to their doors. And then expect it do be magically cleaned up by the next day.

We step into his apartment, and the events of my last visit all come flashing back to me. Haven’t been here since the night of the party. Swear I can still hear it, imagine it.

I ignore it and sit down on their couch. “Mingyu at his girlfriend’s house?” I ask, which makes him nod in response.

“What? you want a redo bun?” He teases. My jaw drops. “How dare you, we promised to never speak of it again,” I say still with a faint smile on my face.

It’d be a good way to warm up though. No, it wouldn’t. No! Na na na. This is Jungkook we’re talking about, Silly Jungkook who sings at 3 am and throws a tantrum whenever I win in Mario Kart.

“Just wanna do what makes you happy bun” he’s been saying that name an awful lot tonight.

He sits down next to me. He turns on the TV and places his hand on my thigh. I tense up immediately, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable, though in some way it does.

He trails his fingers across my inner thigh, not going really high. It feels nice, a little too nice. I try to focus, focus on the TV.

He puts on Friends, we’ve been rewatching it together. Watched it many times already, but it never misses. Probably one of my comfort shows. Something you turn on and just do whatever, a background show that’s also perfectly enjoyable when you pay close attention to it.

I think back to last week, how I had laid on his bed. Exposed like that, his fingers inside of me. His cock in my mouth.

Is this all I had to think about to not be cold? Maybe it’s his touch on my thigh, maybe it’s just really warm in his house.

I cross my legs, making him move his hand back to his lap. I press my thighs together hard, in hopes of feeling some friction. I can’t move a lot because it’ll draw attention to him, so I’m left frustrated.

“Are your legs not tired? From all the walking” he says. “Oh uhm, no not really I guess,” I say after I clear my throat. I’m afraid I ruined my friendship with him, what we did last time was a big mistake. I should’ve thought about the future, but it’s fucked now. We’re too far in to fix anything at all.

“come here,” he says, signing with his hands to put my legs on his lap. I hesitate a little but decide to do so anyway. I put my calves on his thighs, careful to not put them too high. Shifting in my seat to sit more comfortably, leaning my back against the sofa's armrest.

He moves his hands on them carefully, massaging my calves whilst he focuses on the show.

With his hands now on me, it makes me realize how much I had walked. Now getting aware of the slight pain that’s coming from my thighs and feet.

“Feels nice” I assure him, getting a satisfied hum back from him.

I try to focus on the show, try to keep my mind away from him. But being here with his hands on me, it’s difficult to pay attention. It doesn’t help when he scoots closer to me and massages my legs, above my knee.

He’s making it even harder for me to focus. Should I talk about something? The show isn’t helping me stay distracted. It’s the episode where they go to London, where Chandler and Monica hook up. Suits the theme.

Is it bad that I want that redo? Just for tonight, just to feel good for a moment. I feel myself clench on nothing as I think about him, against his door, gripping my hair.

I lean my head back against the armrest, sighing at myself. He’s just massaging, nothing sexual about it. Still, it turns me on as he massages my inner thighs, just inches away from my dress's skirt.

I buck my hips up a little, scooting my ass closer to his thighs. It’s nothing noticeable I think, he takes it as a sign to massage my upper thighs.

Should I do it again? Try to get him to go even higher? A soft whimper escapes my lips as he squeezes my upper thigh. I try to cover it up with a cough, gosh that’s embarrassing.

He trails his finger across my safety shorts, my head still hanging over the armrest. I shoot my head up to look at him, I see a smirk on his face and, a slightly raised eyebrow. He’s teasing me, he’s doing this on purpose.

Feeling bold, I swing one of my legs over his. Sitting on his lap. “Still up for a friendly redo?” He says.

I look him in the eyes, am I really going to do this? I didn’t exactly regret last time, just felt like it ruined everything. “Promise it won’t be awkward?” I ask him. “You’ll always be my best friend, but at the moment my mind can only think about this tight little pussy” he says, as he looks down at where I’m sitting on his lap.

“Then do something about it,” I tell him. What can it hurt if we both see each other as best friends right?

He slowly takes off his hoodie that I’d been wearing. Exposing my shoulders, and fully showing the dress I’m wearing. “I like the dress,” he says.

“I like your outfit too” he’s wearing these blue baggy jeans, combined with an oversized long sleeve in black, white, and orange. With his messy hair, I’m not afraid to say he looks really good.

He flips me around on his couch, receiving a squeal from me. He connects his lips with mine, doesn’t take him long to use his tongue intertwining it with mine.

My knees are bent, leaning against his hips. Taking our greatest time making out. I wrap my arms around his neck, and my legs around his waist.  

He trails along my jaw, placing a hickey on my neck. Circling around the sensitive spot right beneath my ear. This is definitely going to get me in trouble tomorrow.

He eventually decides to pick me up, leading me to his bedroom once again. Not breaking the kiss even once, he lays me down on my back.

He hovers over me, chain dangling from his neck. He stands back up taking off his shirt. “As much as I love you as a friend Yun, ever since last time I can’t really think about anything else” It makes me chuckle.

I mean, I’ve not been active in a long while, and well... I’m comfortable with him, I don’t need to be ashamed bout anything with him.

He grazes his finger across the hickey that has been placed on my neck. Inspects it, proud of his work. “You look so fucking hot right now”

I sit back up, placing my hands behind me stretched out. I pout at him, eyes big. He pokes his tongue in his cheek, god that’s hot. He bends down and trails the pads of his fingers over my exposed thigh. Kisses me again, and bites my lower lip a little. He reaches the hem of my skirt, takes it between his fingers, and pulls it up on both sides. Exposing my shorts. I hold my arms up, helping him to fully take off my dress. He takes my shorts off as well leaving me in my panties.

He's still in his jeans, as much as I love the sight of his abs alone. I feel like it's a bit unfair to be the only one in their underwear, so I pull him by his waistband to unbuckle his belt. He takes them off fully, leaving him in his boxers just like me.

I don't think I've ever seen someone this good up close, always been a sucker for big muscles. I move back against the the bed, head on his pillow. he follows kissing my collarbone, down to my stomach. Hooks his middle fingers underneath the side of my panties to slide them down, his following next. "You want me to stretch you out first?" he asks. To be completely honest, it might be a good idea but I'm far too impatient for that. "I can take it," I say, all he does is smirk in response.

He moves over to his nightstand, takes a condom out of his drawer, and puts it on. Never in my life would I have thought that, that's I sight I'd like. I'm convinced that he looks good doing anything, at all. The man could roll around in mud and still look hot doing it.

He places his hands next to my head and looks at me to see if I'm ready. "Just, take it slow okay?". "Don't worry bun, I would never hurt you" I think I might actually die right now.

He takes his cock in his hand, pumps himself twice before lining himself up with me. "Yeah?" He looks at me, it's my last moment to back out before it's too late. Part of me knows it's already too late, was already too late when I kissed him last week. But I want it now, for once I'm choosing myself. choosing to feel good, just in the moment. so I nod, reassuring him.

He puts it in, there's really no turning back now. "Fuck" he curses, dropping his head in the crook of my neck. "you're so tight," he says. He's taking it painfully slow, stretching me out. It burns a little, but it doesn't hurt. As if he fits perfectly, I'm able to fully take him. Taking it out slowly, leaving just the tip before he thrusts back in. I moan in response, hands around his neck. Doesn't take me long to get warmed up to him completely.

"Faster.." I whimper, wanting to feel more. He obliges, speeding up his pace by a little. "Please" I moan. "You want it even harder huh? Our little bunny like it rough?" I clench down on him, making him curse against my shoulder. He stops for a second, moving both of us back to the end of the bed. He's now off the bed, me lying in front of him. He grabs me by my hips and pulls me closer to the edge, adjusting our position.

His grip on my hips is firm, it sends a shiver down my spine. I look up at him, my eyes begging for more, my body craving every inch of him. He pushes back into me, this time with a steady, powerful rhythm that makes my breath hitch. "Oh god," I gasp, my nails digging into the sheets. It feels so good I forget about every possible consequence this could have. His thrusts are deeper, and more demanding, hitting spots inside me that I never knew could feel so good. I can feel the intensity of his desire, the way he loses himself in the moment just as much as I do.

"Good girl" he groans, his voice rough with lust. "Taking me so well, bunny."

The words send a surge of heat through my body, and I can feel myself getting closer to the edge. Every movement, every touch, is driving me wild. I arch my back, pushing my hips up to meet his thrusts, desperate for more. "Fuck, right there" I cry out, my voice shaky. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

His pace quickens, each thrust harder than the last. I can feel the pressure building, my orgasm is close. He puts his hand between us, circling around my clit. "Come for me, baby." That's all it takes for me. I come around him, my body trembling. It's better than I've ever had, It'll take me a little to recover from this. It doesn't take him long after that, his own release crashing over him as he moans my name, his grip on my hips tightening.

We stay like that for a moment, catching our breath, our bodies still connected. Slowly, he pulls out and collapses beside me, pulling me into his arms. I nestle against his chest, feeling his heartbeat slow down as we come down from the high together. "You okay?" he asks softly, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. "Yeah," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. He smiles, pressing a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Good." I smile back.

"You should probably get cleaned up though" Although I'm not cold anymore, I could kill for a nice, hot shower right now. "Yeah probably, I won't take long," I say, getting up from his bed. "could you charge my phone for me whilst I'm gone?" I ask, receiving a agreeing nod from him. Thighs sticky, I collect my clothes from the floor and make my way to the bathroom.

I look at myself in the mirror, now seeing the damage he has done. a hickey on my neck, and one on my collarbone. My mascara is completely smudged, good thing I've got a little bit of skincare here. I remove my makeup and step under the warm shower, I could just stay like this forever. Though, in reality. That would just be really bad for the environment, so I try to keep it short. also to not leave Jungkook on his own for too long.

As I'm putting my underwear back on, there is a knock on the door. "Uhm yun?.." sounds from the other side of the door, he sounds worried. "Yeah? I'm almost dressed" I say, stepping into my dress now. "You've got like.." he pauses for a second. "23 missed calls," he says.

23 missed calls? who the fuck would even call me this late in the evening, this many times? "From who?" I ask him. I unlock the door and step out looking at my phone that he's holding.

Yoongi: where the fuck are you?! Yoongi: Yun ISTG if you're at that Tae's house I'm gonna kill you Yoongi: WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU Yoongi: TEXT ME THE FUCK BACK YUN

*23 Missed calls*

I groan loudly, letting my head fall back. "Give me a minute," I tell Jungkook as I take the phone from him and decide to call Yoongi back. the phone doesn't even go over 3 times to get picked up already. "Send me your fucking location right now yun!" he shouts through the phone, very loudly. "Yoongi, what the fuck! I'm at Jungkook's"

"I don't believe a single fucking word you tell me okay?" he says. "Where the FUCK does he live" he adds. "I told you I'm at Jungkook's house, I'm telling the truth" I sound desperate trying to get him to believe me. I don't even know what to do at this point. never has he caught me with a guy, and I haven't even done anything with him. I knew he was protective, OVERprotective even. but there's a thing as going too far, but I know I can't stop him.

"FINE! I'm going to Jungkook's right now!" he yells back at me. "see you in 2 minutes" 2 minutes? has he been looking for me? Jungkook doesn't live two minutes away even if you had a car! before I can answer him he hangs up on me. Now coming to the realization that I've got hickeys on me. the moment Yoongi sees that, hell kill both me and Jungkook.

"Koo, I need to borrow a shirt or a sweater or something. Yoongi will be here in two minutes" I say as I run to his room, not even really paying attention to him. he hasn't even gotten fully dressed yet, still walking around shirtless. I run to his dresser scavaging around it, grabbing a random shirt, and throwing it at him. I grab a random hoodie of his and put it on. moving my hair to the front, and adjusting the hood so my hickeys won't be present as much.

It's easily concealed for now. My hair is long and thick, heavy even. contemplated cutting it to my shoulders, it would be an easy 35 centimeters off. "What do you mean here?" he asks, as I walk back to his living room sitting back on the couch. Pressing play, on the previously paused Friends episode.

Jungkook sits on the couch right next to me, though not for long. It doesn't even take Yoongi 1 minute to get up to Jungkook's apartment door. Banging on the door so hard, it scares the living shit out of me. Jungkooks is fast to open the door, walking over to his front hallway, that leads from the kitchen. Pretending I've been sitting here the whole time, on my phone that's likely seconds away from dying.

Yoongi barges in, not even bothering to glance at Jungkook, let alone greet him. "Where's she," he says sternly. I get up from my seat and walk to where Yoongi is coming from. "Yoongi I told you! I'm with Jungkook" he doesn't even listen and grips me so hard by my arm I'm afraid it'll bruise. He drags me out of his apartment, not even caring if I've got any other belongings left.

Thinking it'd take too long to wait for an elevator, in the rage he's in. he walks down the stairs, 5 floors, holding onto my arm until we're outside of the apartment complex.

"YOONGI! STOP!" He stops in his tracks, finally listening to me. It’s taking me all of my power to yell and pull myself away from him, to finally turn around and listen.

His expression is something I’m unable to place. he’s angry with me, that’s obvious. But there’s something else. He reminds me of someone. His behavior feels familiar, even though it’s fairly new.

“What” he sneers at me. I don’t even know what I exactly want to know, I’m not entirely sure what I’m mad at. I, I’m clueless.

“You’re completely prohibited from boys,” he tells me. Has he gone insane?! I’m my own person, I’m an adult, legally. And I can make my own decisions. Even worse.. that would mean I can’t even hang with Jungkook anymore, and Taehyung wouldn’t even see a ray of sunlight if I looked at him again.

“Yoongi..” I start, unsure of what I even wanna say next. I want to yell, I want to talk, I want to tell him he’s insane. “Why?” I add, somewhat calmly even, that he doesn’t deserve a calm response “WHY?” I yell at him.

“WHY? Do you think you can make every single little decision for me?! I’m your sister! Not your possession! Jungkook has been my friend, sorry, BEST FRIEND for 8 years! And now you’re banning me from seeing him ever again?!”

He steps closer to me, so close I swear I can feel his breath on my face. “Boys are bad news, you wanna be treated like dad treated you?” He asks me.

It pierces right through my heart, and that hurt. Using Dad in this instance, he knows I’ll agree. I’m fed up, fed up with his bullshit. “Come on you know Jungkook isn't like that!” Voice now calm.

“Jungkook is fine but for all I know, you were with Taehyung tonight.” His trust is as bad as I am at running,o and ii can tell you.. that's absolutely terrible.

I'm speechless. The mentions of dad, him being so overly protective. it feels like I'm stuck here, stuck in a place where nobody even pays attention to you. I'm a person who tends to cry when they're angry, and I really don't feel like showing those emotions tonight. I don't want to feel weak, and vulnerable in front of him.

That's why I decided to walk, not away from him. Not for tonight at least.. but to the bus stop, that's just right behind him. I sit down on the bench and look to my left to see that Yoongi is walking over to me. He seems calmer as if the rage has suddenly left him. As if my me listening to his commands, just expecto patronum'd them away.

fortunately, the bus drive back home doesn't take as long, as my walk tonight. However, I did make a huge detour. Yoongi doesn't say a word the entire time, and neither do I. Wish I could disappear into my seat.

It's like a reality check coming to me whenever I take the bus back home, from Jungkook's. It's midnight, seeing the big city lights and apartment buildings from his area, slowly transition into small, one story houses. It's definitely less luxurious. I don't want to go inside, basically have to drag myself upstairs. Walking behind Yoongi who's acting way too nonchalantly for the rage he was in today.

He almost immediately disappears into his room, but he stops when I call him out. The first thing I see as I walk back into the house is a smashed beer bottle on the ground. Mom who is usually on the couch, is nowhere to be seen.

"What happened?" I ask. He doesn't even need to know what I'm looking at, to know what I'm talking about. "we fought, she'll come back" is all he tells me, as he opens the door to his bedroom.

I want to yell in his face, punch him. but I don't. I want to ask questions and get my answers. but I don't. I nod, take his word for it, and let him be. disappearing into my room. That moment the door to my bedroom closes behind me is when it all comes crashing back to me.

What did I do today? I promised Yoongi I'd ghost Taehyung. not that I'm gonna, I'm not just gonna give up on my year long crush just because he tells me to. I hate it here, I hate constantly walking on fucking eggshells for him. hate the fact that he controls me just like that. But I have to, I have to because he protects me from the dangers that my da can possibly bring. We don't have the money to move out to a new place or find a new school. Mom doesn't have the courage to leave him, that's why she lets him leave whenever he wants to. She knows he cheats on her. She knows they're not actual business trips he attends. But he's our main income, she has to stay with him anyway.

God I even had sex with Jungkook. I kissed him, I let him touch me like that. What did I get myself into, what the fuck went on in my mind? Are you crazy?? why why why?

I slide down against the door, sitting on the ground with my legs tucked into my chest. hand to my mouth to muffle the sounds of my cries. tears streaming down my face. I'm tired, tired of living like this, tired of tonight, tired in all possible ways there could be.

I don't even notice I fall asleep like that until I hear the front door slam shut loudly, and I open my eyes slowly when I see the sunlight shining into my room. It could be Mom coming home, or Yoongi leaving. I don't have the energy to check who it is. I get up to my feet and walk to my window to shut the curtains, and lie down in bed. rid myself of the dress and fall asleep again in Jungkook's hoodie. It comforts me in a way, smelling his detergent and a hint of his cologne. It makes me feel as if I'm at his apartment, where I'm entirely safe from all the dangers that are here. Well except for Yoongi then, but he'd never physically hurt me, he isn't like that. I'm still his little sister, he cares for me a lot. Or he wouldn't even care that I'd been talking to Taehyung.

It's a few hours into the afternoon when I get woken up by the aggravating sound of my phone ringing, I don't even know where my phone is. I get up out of bed with a groan, my cheeks hurt. the sound comes from my door, and that's when I spot my phone still lying on the ground.

I flip the phone to see who's calling me, crouching on the ground. It's Jungkook. what does he want? normally we don't really talk that quickly after a hang out.

"Yeah?" I say as I answer the phone.

"You wanna meet up? You left your zip up here"

I hadn't even noticed I wasn't wearing my zip up anymore. well... Jungkooks zip up, technically not mine.

"It isn't mine Jungkook. but I guess I should return you your hoodie."

"I don't wear it anyways, it looks good on you so. I can pick you up if you want to" he offers

Even though we've been friends for nearly a decade, he's never been there. always let him park a few blocks away just so he wouldn't see the state my home was in. though it could be worse I guess... it's clean at least. I quickly stand up and open the door to see if Mom has come back yet, which she hasn't. I don't want to go on the bus again, I'm tired. though I still hesitate a little.

"yeah sure.. ill uhm, I'll send you the address.. call me once you're outside." he doesn't have to come in you know. it wouldn't hurt him to see the building I live in. He agrees with me, though he's a little taken aback once he notices he hasn't ever seen the actual building I live in. He always just figured I had lived in a building you couldn't reach with a car, somewhere behind other buildings or something. but that's not the case at all, indeed it's the opposite. There's a big road, that leads to a parking lot, that stands right next to my building. It's quite easily accessible.

we agree to him picking me up, and he hangs up on me. I need to get changed. fuck, I need to get rid of my hickeys. I didn't even think about that. I sit in front of my vanity and inspect the two purple devils on my neck. They're not terrible. I guess I can get rid of them.

I had recently bought a color correcting palette because Jia had recommended it to me. told me it was the best makeup purchase that I'd ever make, and she was right. And right now, it is about to save my life. I do some natural makeup, not having the motivation to put effort into it today. brush through my hair so that it sits nicely, and now it's time for an outfit.

It's difficult to settle for one, as I'm always in debate. I wanna look good, but I don't want to be too cold, nor do I want to put baggy on baggy. sometimes baggy on baggy looks fire, but it's not for me. I decided to settle for a nice vintage crop top and some baggy jeans, and my usual sneakers that I always wear.

That's right when Jungkook calls. I ignore the call, pick up his hoodie, and make my way outside. it's silent in the apartment. both Yoongi and Mom are not home. At least that's what I expect, since I didn't hear Yoongi come home yet.

Jungkooks car is parked out front, this saves me time from getting to a bus stop. It's weird in a way, to see him so close to the place I live. I've never brought anyone back here. I'm always ashamed in a way, even though I know my friends would never judge. They know my family doesn't always have it too well, Jungkook knows about my father and knows that he's our main income. He knows about Yoongi's stupid ways of 'handling' things, I don't know why I was too scared to let him pick me up, he won't even see the inside.

"Hi," I say as I open the door to Jungkooks passenger seat. "wow, you okay?" is the first thing he says. no hello no 'how are you today my awesome gorgeous best friend' no, no. He actually said 'Wow, you okay?'.

"Hello to you too" I rest my head back against the seat and sigh. "what happened?" ugh. I wanna disappear into my seat, vaporize into the air. "you know, life. Yoongi being a pain in the ass" I respond as I look at him.

"No offense bun, you look terrible" I just roll my eyes at him, that's a nice compliment. "Aww thank you" I sarcastically pout at him. god, he can be annoying.

"nope. nu uh" he starts the car and drives out of the parking spot in reverse. "we're not gonna be on our periods all day. we're gonna get your favorite ice cream and we're watching a movie" I don't even have time to escape now. I can't jump out of a running car. on the other hand, I guess its kinda nice that he tries to take my mind off of things.

He drives to his local ice cream place, I guess a normal supermarket would do. but there's this ice cream place, they serve the best ever caramel cookies and cream ice cream, yes. Cookies and cream, with caramel. when we have one of these days, we get a big 1 liter to go box. sometimes even get take out, and watch the Titanic. it's basic I know, but it's good. sometimes we go out of our comfort zone and settle for, Your Name, sometimes even Weathering With You. It's been a while since we've had a gloomy day like this. So Titanic it'll be.

He parks the car and gets out. I'm too lazy to get out. He moves to my side of the car and basically drags me out of it by my arm. "wait wait wait. gimme your hoodie" It must not be a fun sight, seeing me so 'lifeless' like this, good thing Jungkook has gotten used to it over the past years. He opens the back door and grabs the zip up hoodie that I basically claimed by now.

he pushes me by my shoulder, inside the ice cream shop. I sit down on the sofa that faces the ice cream display case. basically sitting down like a little child who didn't get what she wanted, swinging my legs as Jungkook waits for the employees to fill the box with ice cream.

usually, they fill it with normal scoops until it's completely filled, but because we've come here more often to get the 1 liter box than normal servings. They use a big spatula which gets you more ice cream since it's more stuffed than with a normal scooper.

"cmon back to the car" I groan and follow him back to the vehicle. crazy how you can feel so, so lifeless sometimes. But he drives us to his apartment anyway. "C'mon, you're gonna be a big girl and get up. or do I have to carry you all the way" he's being ridiculous. though, being carried does sound nice. "actually.." but before I can finish my sentence he already cuts me off and walks away.

It takes like all my strength to walk up to the elevator. Mingyu's home for once. but he stays in his room. I settle down on his couch, as he throws a blanket at me. grabs some random bag of crisps and popcorn, and puts them on the coffee table. before he settles down next to me turning on The Titanic. at this point, I basically know actual lines and timing on the script and know the movie inside out.

"You know, sometimes I wish I could dress the way she dresses," I say putting a big spoon of ice cream in my mouth. "who? rose?" mouth still full I look at him and nod franticly humming in agreeance. "even with that ugly ass hat" he does have a way of, expressing his opinions? I click my tongue and drop my jaw "How dare you! I guess it does look a little silly" I'm not a big hat girly no. "but the one blue and pink dress she wears at the end? it's gorgeous" If I could buy it I would, it's so freaking pretty. it's simple, but the colors are just right.

"You mean the one they fuck in?" and just like that he's completely ruined it. "Oh screw you!" I grab one of the pillows and throw it at him. "You already have" Okay he seriously needs to shut up. I just ignore him and give him no attention he won't make stupid remarks, hopefully...

prev | next

[futurepastme]

Gaius and Merlin have dinner and talk about Uther

Just because I haven't really posted anything Merlin lately, (I think) here's a little scene with Gaius (not merthur for once yet):

Merlin was about to go back to read more about some spells he had marked as ‘must learn,’ when he heard the door to the physician’s chambers opening. He waited before leaving his room - he was off duty and didn’t really want to see anyone - until he heard the characteristic sound of Gaius’ cauldron going into the fire, only then he left to the main chambers with his new treasure of a book in hand.

Gaius had half of his body leaning over the cauldron, mixing their dinner - porridge, probably - with a long wood spoon. Merlin watched him work on it for a while before removing the spoon and tapping it on the cauldron’s edge to make sure there was nothing left on it. Gaius turned around and gave a little jump of surprise upon finding his nephew staring at him.

“Good God, my boy, are you trying to get me killed?”

“Never! You’re the one that cooks dinner, If I caused your death I’d starve.” He smiled at Gaius as the old man shook his head.

Gaius went around the room collecting the books he was using earlier that morning, putting them on a neat pile before heading to the bookshelf.

“So, long meeting, wasn’t it?” Merlin drifted back to his earlier place at the table, setting his book on top of it and looking at Gaius’ white head of hair as he worked on putting the books away. He saw him shake his head.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into Uther this time, but I fear it is nothing good.”

“I heard he’s inviting a bunch of kings to this week’s feast?”

Gaius turned around, the one eyebrow of disapproval raised. “And where, pray tell, did you came upon this information?’’

“I made George tell me.” Merlin answered with a sheepish smile.

Gaius shook his head again, this time glaring at Merlin, and walked back to the cauldron now that he was finished with the books. “It’s wrong anyway,” he stirred it a little bit before reaching for a pot, filling it with a spoonful. “Uther cancelled this week’s feast. Should be announced to the rest of the castle first thing in the morning.”

Merlin stood up and began setting two seats at the table so they could eat. “That’s good then, if he’s no longer receiving the kings, I mean.” He filled two goblets with the drinking water they had in a jar, and sat down at his place. Gaius marched to join him, holding two pots of porridge for them. 

“Ha!” Gaius sat the pots with more strength than usual making them clank, “If only! He has postponed it to the end of the month.” Gaius satdown and picked up his spoon then pointed it at Merlin, using it to emphasize his words. “He didn’t clarify what exactly it is that he wants to discuss with the kings, he kept calling it the Peace Convention.” He shook his head again. “I’m worried.”

Merlin sighed, “Does he not recall what happened the last time? I bet King Alined still wants war, and King Olaf must still be angry with Arthur, I mean, Princess Vivian was still enchanted to be in love with him when they left.”

Gaius shook his head again with quick movements while still eating, when he was done swallowing he answered “I don’t know what goes on Uther’s head these days, Merlin.”

Merlin scraped off the rest of his dinner with the spoon, he hadn’t realized how starved he had been, and stood up to have his seconds. 

“You should ask Arthur about it, Uther kept him in the room after dismissing the council.”

“Arthur’s still there?” He sat down with his now refilled pot and went back to eating. “Great, he’s going to be insufferable in the morning. What could Uther possibly want with him after a whole day?”

“After the normal meeting subjects, Uther spent most of the afternoon trying to convince the council to receive the dignities at this week’s feast, it took us a long time to convince him otherwise.” Gaius finished his pot and stood up to get his own seconds. “Whatever is he wanted with Arthur, he either didn’t have a chance to bring it up this evening, or just didn’t want the rest of the council to intervene with more of his plans.”

Gaius sat back at the table to start his seconds, while Merlin rested his head on his hands after finishing his own. Both men kept quiet for a while, lost in their own minds as Gaius finished his dinner.

“Anything interesting in that book of yours?” Gaius changed the subject, and with the memory of the new spells he would be able to learn, Merlin smiled, ready to give him an answer.

He didn’t have a chance to, though, as they heard the characteristic Rat-tat-tat of knocking on the door.

“Come in.” Merlin said, as Gaius was still chewing.

The door opened to reveal a tired-looking George, he greeted them both with a nod before turning to address Merlin. “Prince Arthur has summoned you, Merlin.”

Merlin let a little sigh fall from his mouth, frustrated with the interruption - he really wanted to talk with Gaius about the book - as he stood up, headed to join George at the door. “Thank you, George.” He stopped midway to glance one last time to Gaius, his dirty dishes - cleaning them was his task, as Gaius always cooked dinner - and his book.

“Go see what the prince needs.” Gaius dismissed him with a wave and a nod. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Merlin nodded goodbye and joined George, closing the door behind them.

☽♚☾