#i hope someone else sees the vision bc its So Clear in my head

[clowningcrows]

i have an agathario au idea with vampire!rio that i literally CANNOT get out of my brain...

[teyums]

could you do a ‘being worried when the other comes home late’ modern au with ao’nung, please? i love worried ao’nung 🥺

nooo i love worried ao’nung, so underrated bc i feel like nobody writes it! i def see him as snarky, but i don’t think he’s just super mean all the time 😭 here ya go anon <3 wc: 1,652

Modern Au Prompt #3 w/Ao’nung

pairing: human!Ao’nung x fem!reader

warnings: none

A hiccup rumbles your chest as you carefully pace your way to the door of your apartment, drunkenly giggling at yourself when you realize just how long its taken you to make it down the hallway without tripping over your own two feet.

The fuzzy, pink puffball you have on your keychain keeps getting in the way as you shuffle your keys to try and find the right one, and you quietly groan in annoyance because all you want to do is get inside, and you really have to pee. Your vision is slightly hazy, and though your acrylic nails aren’t that long, they are definitely not helping considering your motor skills are already slightly inhibited by the shots in your system.

“Gym, no… Pool, no… Campus, Mom’s house, oh come on!” You sigh, grabbing onto everything but what you need. “Oh, yes! Finally,” Your eyes flutter in relief once you finally get your hands on your house key, your purse slipping from your shoulder to your forearm as you angle yourself to stick it in the doorknob.

And just as you’re about to turn the key, it turns for you, and with a tilt of your head you watch as the door swings open to reveal none other than Ao’nung, your roommate, in the doorway.

His curls are messy, majority of them pulled back into a ponytail, but the rest are tousled and indicative of his bedhead as they frame his face, soft and delicate to balance his hardened features while sharp, seafoam eyes peer down at the slight sway of your small frame in the hallway.

“Jesus, Y/n, it’s almost 2am in the morning. Where have you been?”

His voice is rough and to anyone else it’d seem like he was reprimanding you, but you know that’s just how Ao’nung sounds when he talks so you wave him off with a floppy, dismissive hand. He’s obviously worried about you, and that’s clear in the way his eyes leak with concern.

Though you didn’t notice, because he’s shirtless as he stands off to the side in front of you with a hand on his hip like a displeased father, and that only directs your gaze to the sweatpants that hang low on his waist. Your eyes trail down his chiseled torso and stop at his prominent v-line before he’s rolling his eyes and tugging you inside, because all you can do is stand there and look dumb. And while he did think you looked cute while doing it, that wasn’t the point.

“Get in the house, dummy.”

With a quiet yelp you shuffle your way in and hope your feet can keep up the speed. He closes the door behind you, turning back around with a solicitous look on his face.

“How did you get home? Did someone drive you? You’re drunk.” He states, and you bring your hand to and away from your head in a ‘duh’ motion.

“No shit sherlock, I couldn’t tell,” You snicker, because right about now, everything is funny, down to the slight slur of your words and the way his lips purse at your untimely sense of humor. You bend over and nearly fall forwards while you slip your heels off your feet, and his hands are already out just in case he needs to catch you. He watches as you bring your wobbly body back up and brush the hair from your face, the whole act clearly taking a lot more effort due to your tipsy state seeing as you’re nearly out of breath.

“My friends wanted to stay, I didn’t, so I took an uber.” You shrug, sticking the tip of your tongue out and plucking one of those small white fibers that float in the air from it. It’s apparent that you’re pretty much past the conversation, not marking it as a big deal but his eyes almost blow from his skull at your response.

“You took an uber? Alone? In that little ass thing?” He huffs out in exasperation and a hand gestures down at the tiny, tight black fabric clinging to your skin that you have the nerve to call a dress. It stops just above your upper thighs and hugs you in all the right places, which was exactly your intention. You look down like you don’t know what you’re wearing, and he frustratedly drags a hand down his face when he glances away because somehow, you’re even more clueless than usual.

“Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve came to get you!”

“Stop yelling at me!” You whine. Your hand going to cradle your pounding head as your bottom lip pokes out into a subtle pout. “I didn’t wanna wake you up…”

“I’m not-“ His agitation falters at the look you give him and he exhales, quickly nodding his head because he knows better to upset a girl when she’s drunk. The last thing he wanted to deal with was a show of your tear-filled dramatics, which happened quite often, might he add. Ever since the day he’d rushed out of his room at the sound of you crying in the kitchen, all to find out it was literally over spilt milk because you’d accidentally dropped your last bowl of Lucky Charms on the floor, your unofficial nickname had become ‘crybaby’.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” He reaches forward and takes your bag and keys from your hands to set them on the kitchen counter across from you. “Just, please, call me next time. They’re a bunch of weirdos out there and I don’t want you getting into any trouble. I won’t be mad if you wake me up, I do it for my sister all the time.”

You listen as closely as you can to the actual words that are coming from his mouth, urging yourself not to take it in the way you know you will, but for some reason you can’t shake the thought that barges into your head. And it’s like he can see it on your face when your chin lifts slightly, lips slowly pulling into an undeniable smirk and your eyes narrow at him, because rarely is Ao’nung ever helpful, let alone worried about you. Your expression is one he knows all too well, and he sighs as his head falls to the side, your smile only growing wider and he knows where this is going.

“Don’t-“

It’s too late, the thought’s already built a cozy home in your mind and you’re letting it stay there.

“You care about me!” You drawl, arms extending outwards as you make your way towards him.

“No, not really.” His response is immediate, a brow raising as you approach him. With one brisk once over his eyes cast on you, he knows it’s not a good idea and he holds a finger out in front of him, cheek turned towards you in warning. “Uh uh, do not-“

You wrap your arms around his torso despite his resistance and his body tenses when you give it a tight squeeze, attempting to swing the both of you back and forth. It doesn’t work, obviously, because he��s larger than you and basically unmovable.

“You’re sweet when you’re worried, Ao’nung.” You hum.

He keeps his hands hovered over your back, fingers not even close to ghosting over your body, like you have some terrifyingly contagious sickness that he’s deadly afraid of contracting. He’s desperately trying to think of anything but the heat of your chest pressed flush against his upper abdomen, your head tucked under his chin and a sharp, involuntary inhale through his nose is enough to tell him that he and his dignity would really appreciate it if you’d allow his brain to operate normally. So, he does what he does best: deflects the accusation with such vehemence as if he’s trying to outsmart a heat-seeking missile.

“Please let go. You reek of desperate partygoers and tequila. I hate tequila.” He grumbles, dramatically covering his nose with a hand. “I also think a shower wouldn’t hurt.” There’s a smirk playing on his lips that you can’t see and he knows he’s only teasing you, as it just so happens to be one of his favorite pastimes. You smell wonderful, like you always do, but he’d never tell you that.

You abruptly shove him away with a scoff and he can’t help but laugh at the look on your face, the way your jaw drops in astonishment and your eye twitches. You can’t even sputter out a response, all you can do is narrow your eyes at him before you spin on your heels to stalk off. It was a bad idea seeing as you’re already dizzy, but you quickly regain your balance and continue.

“You sure you can find your way there, sweetheart?”

“Oh, and wouldn’t you just love to help me. I can feel you looking at my ass!” You shout from down the hall, middle finger raised behind you.

Jaw falling slightly slack, his eyes instantly snap up from where he didn’t even realize they were resting. He pulls the inside of his cheek between his teeth, face growing hot as he curtly nods to himself.

“Yup, I’m going to bed.”

____

Once Ao’nung heard the shower shut off after about twenty minutes, he deemed it safe to close his eyes and sleep; the fear of you passed out because you’d somehow slipped and hit your head on the tub long gone from his mind.

He’s laid on his side with an arm folded under his head, basically asleep when you carefully crack his door open, a big t-shirt and loose shorts on your body as you slip through the opening. You move at a snail’s pace and go to shut it, but the door creaks, and with an eye pinched to a close your face screws into a wince, shoulders tensing as you freeze in your tracks.

You reluctantly peek over at the lump in the dark that‘s his figure, but the sound didn’t wake him up, his eyes remain closed and you let out a small breath at that. Tiptoeing your way to the unoccupied side of the bed, you nearly trip over a sweatshirt on the floor but swiftly catch yourself with a crabbed huff, kicking it under the bed.

You peel his blankets back with just your pointer finger and your thumb, trying to cause as little commotion possible as you carefully sit down on the mattress. A silent prayer to somehow become weightless recites in your mind, head swishing over your shoulders when you glance at his back every now and then in hopes of catching any sign of him stirring.

You’re sure you’re in the clear, but just as you go to swing your legs over, your ear picks up on the sound of a grunt from behind you. Teeth catch your lip, eyes shutting as you steel yourself for confrontation and mouth a mute curse to the air. You should’ve known your presence wouldn’t go unnoticed. Ao’nung is a relatively light sleeper, and contrary to what he’d told you earlier, you’re no stranger to the fact that he doesn’t like to be disturbed. But you’d assumed that because he stayed up to wait for you to come home, that he would be knocked out already and this would be easier to explain in the morning.

But he was up the moment he felt the bed dip, sleep immediately leaving him once he’d turned his head and saw you sitting on his mattress. Certain he’s hallucinating or this is a dream that feels a little too real, Ao’nung rapidly blinks the mist from his vision and you can feel the searing gaze boring into the back of your head, even more so when you continue to lay down as if what you’re doing is completely normal.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His voice is groggy, irritated in the way his tone nips at your ears.

“Uh… Going to bed.” You mumble, hesitantly pulling the sheets over your shoulder.

He’s propped on his elbow now, his loose, untamed hair dusting his shoulders as his face crinkles incredulously at the gall of your answer.

“Have you lost your mind? Or are you that drunk where you’ve forgotten where your own room is?”

You wish the mattress would just open up and swallow you whole.

“I threw up on my bed.” With your back still turned to him, your voice is small when you answer.

It’s silent for a few seconds, the only thing you can hear is the blood rushing to your face and with baited breath you roll your lips between your teeth as you anxiously wait on a response.

“I’m too tired for this shit.” He mutters beneath his breath, quiet enough so you won’t hear.

His body falls back to the bed and your lungs fill with much needed air, his back facing you once again. His bed is much more comfortable than yours as you snuggle up against his pillow, and the sheets tug in his direction when he pulls them over his body, his way of silently telling you not to get used to it.

“If I feel so much as one cold toe touch my leg, I swear to God you’re sleeping on the floor.”

Likes + Comments + Reblogs are much appreciated! 💗

@eitaababe ever since you made Ao’nung call us sweetheart in ‘somebody else’ it’s been canon to me

©teyums 2023

[inafieldofdaisies]

WIP Wednesday / more like teaser Thursday bcs I'm late as always | tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton | ty, Skelly <3

Before jumping into the Prologue to Sabrina's story, I had to mention something quite unintentionally poetic(idk how else to categorize it). When I was thinking about Brin's character, her name simply popped in my head and it just felt so fitting for her it stuck. The other day something pushed me to look into the origins of the name and whoa:

Without rambling too much, there's a whole legend about a princess (a bit similar to Ophelia in its end) and from there the name took the meaning: “nymph of the river Severn” or “river goddess”.

It's just hilarious to me I accidentally picked a name with that kind of meaning for a character paired with The Baptist.

"In hope of tomorrow, we fight."

9 years ago Sabrina (17 years old)

The vision came to her once again as Sabrina sat in her mother's 1996 Bronco, the only thing she kept as a reminder from the days Brin's father was alive.

Chaos. Screams. "He was right!" A sky on fire. A feeling the world was ending. And yet she was-

"Oh my, that's so nice of you two to say!", her mother's loud laughter pulled her back to the present, it carried all the way from where she was standing, her voice entering the car through the rolled down front window. They had stopped at a gas station in the middle of nowhere, Montana and she was taking her sweet time getting supplies. After one glance in her mother's direction the reason for the delay became clear to Sabrina. To an outsider the sight would seem absolutely ordinary, like she was just having a friendly conversation. In reality Sabrina knew that tone and demeanor well, they were Candice Donovan's signature move when she was about to charm someone into saying yes to her next ploy. Her targets this time were two men, one of them probably a little younger than her. Both seemed dressed to impress, a stark contrast to the other locals stopping at the gas station.

They certainly look like they'd have enough money to catch mom's interest and get her, get us into a lot of trouble as a result. Sabrina had no doubts at that thought.

"So much for your promises, mom.", she muttered then shifted her attention to her little sister, Savannah who was fast asleep in a baby seat next to her. One look at her content little face reminded Sabrina why she was still there, putting up with her mother's neverending schemes. It was all for her baby sister, from the minute she was born Savannah became the single most important person in her life… she had to stay. She had seen the scene outside unfold before and each time led to Candice and Sabrina having to move, to start "fresh". Only aside from the town nothing ever truly changed. But this time Sabrina had more to worry about than just herself.

After what felt like forever her mother finally climbed back into the Bronco, the lengthy conversation with the men certainly had put her in a good mood. Something that Sabrina was about to ruin, an useless attempt at making her remember their priorities. Too much was on the line to keep quiet.

"You know, I was just talking to J-", "You couldn't even wait until we've actually arrived this time?" Sabrina interrupted whatever Candice was about to say, not bothering to hide the disappointment in her voice. Though by now she should have know better than to expect her mother to keep a promise. Candice's angry gaze zeroed in on her daughter in the rear view mirror, forcing Sabrina to look away and accidentally making eye contact with one of the men her mother was just talking to. Still staring in their car's direction, he said something to the older guy. With how he was dressed, the dark hair, bright eyes, Sabrina could see why her mother would find herself charmed by a man like him, still something about the whole encounter seemed… off. Sabrina got the same uneasy feeling she'd be plagued by each time a particularly unsettling vision happened. After not getting anything else out of Sabrina, Candice softened her tone, trying to convince her daughter it really wasn't "what it seems like". A constant excuse from her mouth, appearing in every argument anytime she'd try to minimize the situation. "What? I wasn't doing anything! They saw our plates, the boxes in the back, how we're not from around here and were just curious where we're headed." "Totally a good thing to disclose to complete strangers at a gas station, mom."

And to think after spending so many years making enemies out of rich people, she'd be more careful… Sabrina thought to herself, bitterly. "All I did was have a completely innocent conversation with some nice people. Was I supposed to run away from them? It's called manners, Sabrina.", it was a poor attempt at an excuse, especially coming from her mother. "We both know this is how it starts each time, but things have to change. If not for me, at least do it for Savannah, she deserves a permanent place to call home, a childhood not built on grifts-" "Sabrina Blythe Donovan, don't say such lies in front of your sister!"

Sabrina was about to respond that Savannah's not even one year-old and sleeping and "those lies" barely even covered their mother's actions, instead she forced herself to say, "Fine. Sorry, can we just go already?" She knew full well the short stop for snacks would turn into yet another leading-to-nowhere argument otherwise. Satisfied with her daughter's reply and back on the road once again, Candice continued her story about the encounter at the gas station. "So, Jo-, Heavens, I already forgot his name, but- he was telling me about the community he's building, he spoke with such passion of his work and how happy the people are all living together or whatever." "Community? Living together? With how they approached you… Doesn't it all look suspicious to you?" "Nonsense! We had a wonderful talk. He seemed like such a good man, same for his brother. So polite. Asked if we're moving to town. They looked quite disappointed we aren't." "They sound like a cult. Tell me you didn't join. That would be a new low." "Of course not, we're just passing through. I know the plan and I'm sticking to it, honey. And don't call it a cult, you didn't even talk to them." "Whatever you say. Just… be careful. You know what dad always used to say about people…" "Don't trust strangers too much because they probably have a motive to approach you? Scott sure knew how to talk to an 11 year old, that man." Sabrina couldn't help but notice the pain was still in Candice's voice whenever she'd mention his name, even so many years later. "It was his job to notice things. You have to admit he was usually right too… and he never ignored my worries." "Did you see something again? I can always tell with you, you know? But I- I thought it was getting better." "Not visions, mom. A gut feeling. Those men seemed like bad news." "Alright, cult or not, I'm not joining anything, so stop worrying and let your sister sleep. You know how long it took to calm her down the last time." "At least put on some music, you know how much I hate when it's dead quiet... Please?"

Candice complied by turning on the radio and Sabrina was happy to end the conversation especially with her father's presense looming over them. She mindlessly fumbled with a notebook that lay in her lap, it had become a habit to have one nearby at all times. It was one out of many that had been a constant companion to her ever since Scott Donovan died. They were a way to keep a record of the visions, a reminder it was all real. With each year her collection of notebooks grew bigger and bigger, turning into her own archive of the future.

Staring through the window at the endless fields and mountain views, she ignored the urge to tell her mother she thought she'd seen the county signs before, that everything seemed strangely familiar. After all, their destination was elsewhere and Candice didn't like her talking about her visions. Especially when they offered her nothing to gain. With the scenery outside and silence around her, Sabrina's thoughts drifted back to the vision from before, to how it always ended.

Running with what felt like no direction. A tattooed hand holding hers, almost dragging her along. Following a path only he could see. A voice telling her "We're almost there, Sabrina. We're almost at the bunker, Butterfly."

[adorerdraco]

I’m Here ✧ Draco x Reader

Request: Hi, so I’m not sure if you’re taking these kinds of fics for Draco, but I’ve been feeling really down lately, and I was wondering if you could write a one shot or a scenario where the reader has been having a really bad day/week and Draco comforts them? And maybe Draco lays the reader on his chest and he hums a small tune to make the reader feel better? You can ignore this if it’s an issue, but I’d really appreciate it. I love all of your fics btw! They make me really happy <3

Warnings: none bc mostly fluff, some tears, super soft!draco

Words: 1.9K

A/N: i saw this and had to do it effective immediately bc i am feeling the exact same wayyy so this was really nice to think about ;( thank you so much for requesting this and for reading my stuff and i’m so glad i can help in a way <3 i’m sending you nothing but peace, love, and light !!! but i really hope this is gooood <3 do not own gif

Life was punishing you, you thought. It had to be. Because there was no way how in the span of a week everything in your day-to-day life had gone from okay to borderline catastrophic. It was as if every situation you were in was taking its form in the worst case possible scenario and all you could do was watch hopelessly as things continuously got worse sprinkled with small misfortunes in between.

It started on a regular Monday morning, sitting down for breakfast in the Great Hall with blissful ignorance. Halfway through eating your toast, your owl had come in through the open large glass windows and dropped a letter onto your plate from home that left you some very unfortunate news and had set forth a ripple effect that began making everything else go downhill as your days progressed. By the end of the school week, you had managed to blow up a potion, lose house points because of said potion when it splashed onto some people and had some physically altering effects, tripped over your footing and fell in the middle of a crowded corridor, failed a surprise quiz, forgot to turn in an essay, got into an argument with a friend, accidentally slept in and missed a morning class, and took a trip to the hospital wing for a migraine that didn’t want to leave you alone. You could’ve sworn you had somehow been thrown into purgatory, or limbo, or something outer-worldly. 

“Are you alright?” Draco had asked you right after breakfast that Monday morning as he was walking you to your first class. “What was in the letter your owl gave you? You look worried.”

“It was nothing,” you dismissed quickly, trying to put on a half-hearted smile while you spoke to make it more convincing. “I’m fine, just tired.”

It was the beginning of the week, and he did keep you up late the night before when you were sneaking around together, so he just shook his head up and down and took your excuse even though he felt like there was more to it than you were letting on. But as the days went on, he was becoming more observant of the way you were acting and even looking. He didn’t like that every morning he saw the shadows under your eyes get deeper and darker, and he didn’t like how you would close your eyes in pain when you would groan about your headache. He also didn’t like the way he hadn’t seen you truly smile or laugh all week even when he tried countless times to amuse you or cheer you up. But what he didn’t like most of all was that he felt like there was nothing he could do. 

On Wednesday afternoon, he tried asking you again. You were sitting in the Quad with him on a bench and he was telling you a story from earlier in the day about how he had ‘accidentally’ tripped this Gryffindor boy and got Snape to take away house points from him that he thought for sure would you make laugh or perhaps give him a disapproving redirection, but when he glanced up to see your reaction, he noticed you weren’t even listening, to begin with. You had been staring down at your shoes and the way they lined up against the cracks in the pavement, kicking around some gravel as your mind was running a million thoughts per second.

“Love?” He said to you softly. You looked up at him swiftly with a quiet questioning hum, e/c eyes widened slightly from being ripped away from your thoughts suddenly. “You know if something’s bothering you, you can talk to me.”

“I know,” you nodded warmly. “I’m okay, Dray. I’m honestly just tired.”

And you were telling the truth, in a sense. You really were tired; physically, mentally, emotionally.

He frowned, dissatisfied with your answer. “Right, well if anything at all comes up, I’m here.”

From then on, Draco took it upon himself to try and increase his affections and compliments. He would hug you a little tighter, kiss you a little longer, whisper sweet little nothings into your ear before he left you for class. You felt a little bad lying to him, withholding the truth from him, and you saw the concern in his light gray’s when you’d meet him in the mornings and for the rest of the day, but it only made you feel a tad bit worse. You were starting to feel guilty for the way he was worrying, feeling like you were dragging him down into the dumps with you and raining on his usual carefree parades.

On Friday morning, you didn’t meet him for breakfast and you were out of the Great Hall faster than he could catch you. He felt like a stalker when he walked by your class, peeking his head in to see if you were there and well. He spotted you sitting at your desk, hunched over your unopened books with a grimace on your face and your head in your hands. He wanted to go in and whisk you away to somewhere far and quiet, but the Professor had caught him by the door and sent him on his way before he could even think of doing anything of the sort.

You felt the day had gone by extremely slow, relative to how the week was moving and also impossibly dismal. You were counting down the minutes until the end of the school day, ready to run to your dorm right after your last class and bury yourself deep into your duvet and pillows for the rest of the weekend.

Head still pounding, you trudged over to your final class, stopping outside the doors when you saw a small group of your housemates standing around with unnerved expressions as they passed each other papers and spoke in hushed tensed tones.

“I studied all night but my friend took the test earlier and she told me during lunch that it had stuff on it that wasn’t even in the reading!” You heard one exclaim in distress.

“We have a test?” You accidentally said aloud and a pair of eyes turned to look at you confusingly.

“Yeah? Professor’s been telling us all week.”

A scoff of disbelief escaped your lips, an overwhelming sense of defeat washing over you as you turned briskly on your heel and in the opposite direction of your classroom. Tears started pricking at your eyes, you felt the stinging of them wanting to be released but you refused to let them all out in the open and especially in front of people who were still taking their time to head to their classes. 

You were making a beeline towards your common room, blinking rapidly to try and clear your vision that was quickly pooling with unshed tears while trying to steady your breathing in another failed attempt to calm yourself. You were nearly there, you could tell by the paintings and doors that you passed by and the black stain splattered on the floor you saw every day on your way to the dorms from someone’s dropped ink bottle that Filch hasn’t been able to get rid of. 

Almost there, you kept repeatedly reminding yourself.

All hope of solace was gone when you didn’t notice the body you had unknowingly crashed into. All you felt were strong hands around your biceps, holding you in place from toppling backward and the very familiar scent of expensive cologne and mint.

“Y/N? Why aren’t you in class?” You looked up at the platinum blond sadly, his worried eyes searching yours with such care that it pushed you over the edge.

You didn’t answer him and instead wrapped your arms tightly around Draco’s middle, burying your face deep into his robes and letting out quiet and frail weeps that broke his heart. He held you tightly, pressing kisses to the top of your head and muttering soft “I’m here’s” into your hair. You stayed in his embrace for a few minutes, letting your tears freely fall into his vest with a sense of relief that only he was able to give you at this point in time.

“I’m sorry I cried on you,” you choked out when you pulled away from him, desperately wiping away at your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

“You don’t ever have to apologize for that,” he said quickly. He brought his hand up to your face, his thumb swiping delicately over a stray tear that was sitting on your jaw while you closed your eyes in comfort. “Do you want to go back to my room? I can set you up really nicely and we can talk if you’d like?”

“Yes please, I’d like that a lot.”

Draco interlocked your fingers with his, bringing the pair up to his lips with a warm kiss on the back of your hand before walking the two of you over to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. It was empty when you walked in, not a soul in sight since everyone was still in class and it made it much easier for him to sneak you into his singular Prefect room you were now extremely grateful he had. He watched contently when you shed off your robes and kicked off your shoes and immediately slipped into one of his dark green jumpers that fit you big. 

You were perched on the edge of his bed, his scent from his sweater engulfing you and doing a much better job of calming you down than you wanted to admit. He followed in your footsteps and changed into something comfier and when he finally sat beside you with his hand falling over yours as an encouragement to talk - you did. You vented to him all about the letter from home, the migraine, your classes, the argument between you and your friend, and everything else that came to mind.

“And I feel bad for ignoring you and not telling you all this before but I didn’t want to burden you,” you finished with sniffles, gazing up at him with a gloomy expression. 

“Y/N, I love you, and nothing you say to me is a burden,” he frowned slightly, “when I tell you I’m here, I mean it, for anything. You’re so important to me and it kills me to see you upset.”

In a careful movement, he had scooted towards you and affectionately cupped your face before placing a loving kiss on your forehead and murmured to you, “don’t ever hesitate to come to me.”

You let him pull you under his covers, draping his large duvet over your entangled bodies with your head resting right above his chest, the steady beatings of his heart instantly sending you into a much-needed peace. His chin was rested right atop your head and you felt his fingers run up and down your arm soothingly while he thought.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?” He asked quietly.

“Can you help me fall asleep?” you muttered, closing your eyes gently when his hand smoothed over the back of your hair. You felt him nod against your head and after a small moment silence, you heard him begin to hum the faint tune of your favorite song.

You lied there in bliss, enjoying the way his chest was vibrating against your ear and the way his fingers were playing with the ends of your hair, curling the strands around his fingers and then moving upwards to massage your scalp. And for a minute, everything was finally okay again as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, a full heart and with your love calmly lulling you away with a soft and now distant humming.

[corpsedaydream]

not such a merry christmas

corpse husband x reader

-

hi hi so it’s 4:20am lmao i’m not kidding

so i know i said i wasn’t going to be on over christmas but christmas wrapped up late for me and i wasn’t ready to sleep and i just started writing and this is what came of it. i know that christmas isn’t always exactly a happy time for everyone bc family and holidays can be complicated sometimes. so if ur struggling or experiencing anything negative or just not rly enjoying christmas. this ones for u friend and i’m sending love ur way

word count: 2085

_______________________________

You had mixed feelings about this time of year.

The holidays.

On one hand, it meant you had some free time to enjoy some quality time with your nearest and dearest. And on another hand, it meant that you would be potentially finding yourself in situations where you would be spending time with family members who you would maybe rather not spend time with.

When you were young, Christmas always felt so magical. Now you were older, Christmas felt more like an anxiety inducing chore.

You’d talked to Corpse about your family a many of times, because for the most part, you really did love your family so much. You felt lucky to have been born into the family you were - again, for the most part. There was one particular sibling who you wouldn’t include in those feelings. Unfortunately, toxic people existed and extra unfortunately, sometimes those people were related to you. After four months of being with Corpse, he thought he had come to learn all of who were apart of your family. But then you were reminiscing on a childhood memory and when sharing it with your boyfriend, he heard a name he hadn’t heard before. When he questioned you on it, he noticed the immediate change in you. The smile left your face and you went timid and very quickly, you shifted the conversation topic. You were acting in a way he had never seen you be like before, usually you were so open and talkative and here was a brother you had never mentioned and definitely didn’t want to talk about.

He didn’t push it any further that day, figuring you would tell him when you were ready. That time came in November, on the 25th.

You remembered it well, Corpse was going through his emails when he asked you, “Baby, what’s the date?”

“November twenty-fi-” You cut yourself off.

“What?”

You were silent for a moment, you didn’t realise that Christmas had snuck up this quickly. It was only a month away.

“Baby?”

“Sorry- um,” you glanced to him, giving him a meek smile before continuing,  “it’s November 25th.”

He noticed that shift in you again. “Are you okay?”

And on that day, you opened up to him. Told him about the terrible memories that haunted days that should have and could have been really happy days had it not been for a bullying, negative family member. How now, you seemed to dread Christmas because of this fact.

“Why don’t you just not go?” Corpse had questioned you, he said it as if it was the most clear outcome, but it wasn’t like for you. It was so much easier for him to say that then it was for you to do.

“I couldn’t do that to the rest of my family.”

“Why? You can see them on any other day?”

“It’s Christmas, I couldn’t not go.”

“It’s just the same as any other day if you think about it.” As much as he had cared and listened to you opening up to him, it was hard for him to understand you on this. You grew up in vastly different family dynamics.

“Not to my family, it’s important.”

The two of you continued to go back and forth for a little bit before you realised the stubbornness you both shared wasn’t going to allow you to take in the other’s perspective.

In fact, the two of you didn’t speak about it again until two days before Christmas Eve. You were spending the day together because you were planning on leaving that night to stay at your parents house until boxing day. And as your leaving time was drawing closer and closer, it was visibly clear to Corpse how anxious you were feeling about it.

-

“(Y/N),” he had called for you attention and you looked to him, “I really don’t want you to go.”

A soft smile was offered to him. “I’m going.”

“But I can fucking see how this is affecting you. You’re dreading it, please don’t go.”

You sighed before answering him. “I have to go.”

“No you don’t.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Please, Corpse, I don’t want to go over this again. I’m already feeling nervous about it.”

“Then stay with me for Christmas, you won’t have to feel nervous about anything, we can just be here having our own good time.”

You knew he was just trying to be there for you, but it seemed this was not something the two of you could find a common ground on. “It’s not that simple.”

-

But if only it had been that simple. If only you had listened to Corpse. Because you wouldn’t be where you were right now. Sitting in your car with tears running down your face. It was 5:05pm in the afternoon on Christmas Day and you’d made a dash out the front door while everyone else sat down to eat dinner. You had tried your best to stay strong, to ignore your toxic brother but when someone was constantly saying and doing things to try to bring you down, you’d broken. You wished you could pull it together, so you could go back inside for the people you wanted to be with, but you truly couldn’t take it any longer. You would call and apologise to your Mother tomorrow, you felt bad for leaving her the most.

You shouldn’t have been driving in the state you were in, tears kept blurring your vision and your mind was so distracted you knew you really weren’t paying enough attention. But by some miracle, you had made it to where you wanted to be. And in one piece and it wasn’t your own place. You were parked out the front of Corpse’s place and how you just longed to be in his arms right now.

Heavy feet carried you to his front door and before you could get the chance to knock, Corpse had already swung the door open.

“Thought I saw your car pull up- oh, fuck,” His tone was happy at first, surprised with happiness that you were there until he took notice of the state you were in. Your foundation was streaked by the thick and fast tears that had fallen down your cheeks. Your mascara and eyeliner tracked black lines, too. Your nose had the makeup removed from it and it was displaying red due to the amount of times you’d rubbed at it. And oddly enough, a Santa Hat was still sitting atop your head. Corpse had never seen a more gloomy Christmas Hat appearance. “Baby, c’mere.”

He wouldn’t hesitate to stretch out his arms to pull you in close and you so gladly accepted. When you were resting against him, his arms would be holding you so tight and yours clutching at his hoodie he was wearing, he’d kick his foot out to shut the front door once the two of you were inside. Small sobs were already leaving your body, but feeling the familiar and protective grip of Corpse really just made you break more. You were safe here, you were safe with him, you could get out any emotion you needed to, and so you did.

Sobs wracked your entire frame, it was loud, vocal and physical crying. Corpse had seen you cry before, but never like this. It was hurting him to see you so hurt. He was so concerned for you, he didn’t have to ask if you were okay, your display was making it clear you weren’t. When he could start to feel your feet starting to give out and your weight became heavier against him, and he not only heard but also felt you choking on your own cries and starting to really struggle to breathe, he felt the need to do more.

Gently, he’d bring you down to the floor with him. He’d sit with his back against the wall and grab your thighs to have you sit in his lap, your legs straddling him. He would pull you in tight enough so your chest and torso was completely against his, the two of you couldn’t be brought any closer if you tried.

“I need you to try taking some deep breaths for me.” He’d tell you right in your ear, needing you to hear him over your violent cries. And so you did, but each one was uneven and would catch in your throat and make you cough.

His hand would be rubbing big, deliberate, heavy circles into your back with a force to make its presence known, a tactic he hoped would calm you. He was caught off guard to see you like this, but after opening up to him about your toxic sibling and how anxious you had been to be around him again, he wasn’t exactly shocked. He was so concerned for you but a part of him was also furious that someone had treated you in such a terrible way to put you in this state. He now wished he had worked harder in getting you to stay with him, if you were with him, you were safe, he wouldn’t let harm - especially like this - come to you.

“I’m here.” Corpse would assure you with a longing kiss to the side of your head, rocking you back and forth.

And eventually, while sitting there, being cradled in his arms, your cries would quieten, your sobs wouldn’t make you shake so violently and your breathing would return to a more regular state.

“Feel better?” He’d ask you once you reached that more stable point and you’d nod your head from its place against his neck before doing a much needed yawn. “You’re tired?”

“Exhausted.” You’d confirm.

“Should we go lay down?” He was still holding you so strongly and securely but being so gentle with how he spoke to you.

“Yeah, I want to get some painkillers first, though, my head hurts.”

“Want to take off the Santa hat?”

“No.”

“What, why?” Your answer surprised him.

“I’ve had it on all day, I’ll have really bad hat hair.” You admitted and Corpse laughed and had you been in a better mood, you would have joined in on the laughter. But it did lift your spirits to even just simply hear him laugh.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

“It will be.”

Corpse laughed softly again and shook his head slightly and when he felt you relax against him again, he brought up his hand to quickly pull the hat from your head.

“Hey!” You lifted your head then and he was relieved to see no more build up of tears in your eyes anymore.

“You’ll feel better without it on.” He argued your protest, smiling a small smile and you couldn’t help but to mirror it, which made Corpse elated to see.

“Okay, but don’t you dare look at my hat hair.” You told him and because he knew your eyes were on his, he intentionally lifted his eyes to your hair. “Corpse!” You called his name with a laugh and he was so happy to hear you laugh instead of cry. “Stop it.” You spoke through more giggles and your hands came up to land on your head over your hair until Corpse grabbed your wrists and moved your hands out of the way. “Hey!” Squirming your arms to get your wrists out of his grasp. Once you freed them, you’d place your hands over his eyes.

“Baby, let me look at your beautiful hat hair.”

“No!” You both would laugh then and this time when your boyfriend took hold of your hands to move them off of his eyes, it would be soft and he’d lift them to bring back his vision and bring your hands down a little to place kisses into the palms on each of your hands.

“You know you don’t have to hide anything from me, right?” On the surface, it could’ve sounded like Corpse was talking about just the hat hair, but on a deeper level, he meant this so wholeheartedly, and you understood.

So you’d nod. “I know. Thank you.”

And Corpse knew that once again, when you were ready you’d tell him about what took place on that Christmas Day, but for right now, he didn’t need to know. All he needed to know is that now you were okay and you were safe and you were with him.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you, too.”

[jean-kayak]

HIII can I request timeskip kenma x black reader where reader tries to make him jealous but it just ends with him fucking y/n senseless

A/N: Hi, Anon! I hope you like this, it was lowkey hard bc Kenma’s not one of my favorites, but I tried! Also, I found out that we have the same birthday lmao

Pairing: Timeskip!Kenma Kozume x gn!black!reader

Word Count: 969

Warnings: unprotected sex, mentions of multiple orgasms

Dating Kenma is great, you love it, you couldn't imagine being with another person, but that doesn't mean the relationship doesn't have its downs. Like right now.

You were at a meet-and-greet, which you were surprised he decided to do it since he's more of a person that's to himself, but you were more than willing to accompany him.

The one thing you hated about this was also what made your jaw tick. You had to stand off to the side because the line of fans obviously wasn't for you, but you couldn't help the burn of jealousy at some of the fangirls who were getting way too comfortable for your liking.

You would scoff and turn your head away, finding something else to look at. It was like they didn't know he was dating someone. You've appeared on his streams and in his youtube videos pretty regularly, so they should know that he's taken. But if they do, they don't choose to respect that.

You feel like you're gonna be sick from the scene in front of you, so you decide to find somewhere else to go, coming back when it's over. You huff as you walk off, your attention now on your phone as you scroll through it.

You end up running into something, almost dropping your phone. You catch it before it can hit the ground, looking up to see what you ran into, lightly holding your head. "Woah, sorry, my bad," the voice says, and you shake your head, flashing a smile.

"Oh, no, it's my fault, I wasn't paying attention." The guy looks familiar but you can't really place him, and he looks at you before stretching his hand out as he introduces himself.

When he says his name, you finally recognize him. "Yeah, I know who you are," you oppose when he tells you that you probably don't know who he is.

He seems to light up at your words. "Really? You watch my videos?"

You cringe slightly as you give him a slight smile, shaking your head. "Not really, sorry. I've just seen a few, but from the ones that I watched, you seem really funny."

There's something in your head telling you that you need to leave, but the pettiness inside you ignores it as you keep the conversation going. "You think? You wouldn't happen to want an autograph, would you?"

You both laugh at his joke, but you find yourself laughing a little harder than you should. You almost fully jump when you feel an arm sliding around your waist.

You look over to see Kenma standing next to you, and your eyes widen. "Kenma! Oh, you're done?" you ask, trying to hide your surprise as you turn around to see that there is still a long line of people at his booth.

"No, I'm just taking a break. Saw a lot of people," he answers shortly as he turns his attention to the guy in front of you.

"Nice to meet you, seen a few of your videos," he says flatly, but the guy doesn't seem to read it, almost beside himself with joy.

You stop focusing on the conversation, instead of focusing on Kenma's reaction. You were caught in plain sight. You weren't flirting but it sure seems that way to someone out of context, but the same thing could be said about your boyfriend and his fans, so you brush it off. You break out of your thoughts as the guy leaves before Kenma looks at you.

"What were you doing?" he asks, his grip tightening around your waist, and you shake your head.

"Nothing, I just ran into him. I was just trying to get some fresh air," you say, and that seems to be good enough for him because he nods and changes the conversation.

For the rest of the day, you seem to be in the clear, or so you thought. But then you went back to the hotel.

"You wanted to be cute, huh? Is that what you wanted?" he spits as he pounds into you. "Wanted to get a rise out of me?" You can't even understand what he's saying, let alone speak.

You've lost track of how many times you've cum. You just know you've been fucked into the mattress ever since you got back, and who knows how much time has passed since then.

He moves a hand from the bruising grip on your hip pinch at your nipple making you jolt. "No, no," is all you can manage pathetically, with him jabbing your that spot inside of you, the overstimulation is almost deafening.

Your whole body's completely limp, the only movement coming from Kenma moving in and out of you. The sheets are beyond ruined with your sweat and tears, your release pooling where you and your boyfriend are connected.

"What is it? You want him instead?" he grunts, and you think you're shaking your head as you try to muster up an answer.

"Only you," you can hear yourself make out as more tears start to blur your vision. You can't even keep your grip on the sheets anymore. His hips falter as he feels you clenching around him. He keeps up his pace, using like your his toy for his pleasure, but you couldn't care less when your level of pleasure is through the roof.

Beyond your tears, you watch his face contorting as he gets closer, your orgasm triggering his, almost falling on top of you when he sends another load inside of you. He takes a deep breath as you continue to catch yours, wincing when he pulls out.

He leans down to give you a kiss on your sweat ridden forehead. "You better rest up because I've still got a lot more in me."

[shoutogepi]

Orange Lamborghini

Bakugou Katsuki

word count : 6.3k 

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]  

themes : lil toucha ass play, car sex, baku being a damn tease

bio : You keep telling yourself you’re done with Bakugou, but the last time is never really the last time, is it?

author’s note : i know i said i was gonna post a tamaki fic but it’s a certain violent blonde’s birthday tomorrow!! (happy 4/20 ayy) so here you go ;) … also this is a part two to my other baku fic, “fuck you i just might”, but you don’t have to read that one before this if you don’t wanna!

side note : Y/H/N is your hero name, and reader is a pro hero working at the same agency as Bakugou. ALSO he smells like caramel bc of his quirk, dont fight me on this >:(

also available on AO3 here

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

“🅂taying late again?” Reo, the owner of the coffee cart stationed in the lobby of the hero agency, quizzes as he throws you an accusatory look.

You stand before him, hand awkwardly looped around your elbow and a small, bashful smile on your lips. He totally knows. But you appreciate that he never outright says anything, and you know for a fact that he would never peep even a whisper to anyone. You are probably his most loyal customer, and you’d like to think he considers you a friend after all this time— not to mention, all the coffee you’ve purchased from him.

Reo gauges your meek expression, and he only smiles as he pours the creamer into the dark brown liquid. “They must be working you hard… I’ve never seen a top hero work such long hours, staying even after everyone else has left. Well, almost everyone, that is.”

Yeah, he most certainly knows.

“What can I say?” You blabber, perhaps answering him a bit too quickly. “Work is my whole life. I don’t have time for anything else, I guess.” The sentiment is a little awkward but full of candor, and when the words leave your lips you’re surprised to hear them carry such a solemn tone.

The man nods in understanding, handing you your cup of coffee before he grabs a cookie from the glass display case and offers it to you as well. “On the house,” he states and you share a long showdown of a gaze with him before you reluctantly pluck the treat from his outreached tongs.

“Thanks Reo, you have a good night now.” Bowing slightly to the elder, you turn and take your leave, quiet steps echoing in the otherwise empty foyer.

Just as the elevator doors open to take you back up into the higher levels of the building, Reo calls out to you. “You know, you should find someone that’s just as hardworking as you. Maybe they’re closer than you think.”

Flustered by the old man’s advice, you only nod and bow again, jamming your thumb into the button. A sigh of relief escapes you as the doors conceal you from his prying eyes. That man has a sixth sense, you swear.

The elevator doors open and you briskly walk through them, along the corridor and around the corner before you finally reach the conference room. Taking a deep breath, you slip through the doorway, eyes trained on the table half-covered in paperwork. Bakugou is sitting behind the spread out files, his red eyes jumping up to regard your approaching form. Placing the cookie wrapped in napkin on the table, you nod at him as you turn and open a cabinet, fingers pinching a fresh manilla folder and shutting the door with a bump from your hip.

“Working late, huh?” His rough voice splits the silence hanging in the air, and when you turn to look at the blonde, he’s lounged back, corded bicep hung carelessly over the back of the chair and a cocky look on his face. But his eyes hold another emotion as they give you a once-over, one that makes your insides stir in both memory and apprehension.

You nod again, a coy smile gracing your lips as you take a sip of your coffee, your own gaze lingering on the muscles that poke out from the hem of his tight tank top. “You too?” You ask, even though the answer is obvious.

Bakugou’s hand twirls the pen he was previously using in rapid, effortless circles, and his knee bounces slowly underneath the table. “You gonna eat that?” He answers your question with his own, slanted eyes flicking towards the cookie resting on the tabletop just an arm’s length away from him.

“You want it?” You can’t help but be surprised— you always expected Bakugou to be an uppity-ass, no-junk-food kind of guy.

“It’s Reo’s, right?” The blonde replies gruffly, thick fingers reaching out to grab the confection. “Shit tastes like heaven.”

Your eyes widen as you connect the dots. Why, that sly little…

“Don’t work yourself too hard,” you chirp out as you turn on your heel, ready to retreat back to the safety of your office.

Bakugou’s scarlet eyes return back to your departing figure, a thin brow raised and a snarl of a smirk splitting his lips. “Aw, ‘ya worrying ‘bout me now, Princess?”

“Fuck you,” it flows from your mouth, years of foul-mouthing built up into a knee-jerk reaction. Your eyes widen as his turn to slits, that stupid smirk morphing into a gleaming grin.

“Don’t tempt me.”

A wave of heat washes over you from head to toe before settling between your legs. You don’t bother to stick around, your feet carrying you out of the conference room as Bakugou’s harsh laughter trails behind you, echoing down the hallway.

Closing the door to your office behind you, you lean your back against it as you slide toward the floor, shutting your eyes tight as the memory washes over you. He’d taken you— right there on the desk you’re supposed to be working at— and ugh, it was fucking good. Shit, he was good. Dropping the folder on the floor your fingers fly to your temple, rubbing your skull in a useless attempt to push the memory away.

Alright, if you’re being honest… that was just the first time. There were, well, a handful of times following the initial incident, much to your now chagrin. There was that time in his office on the other side of the building that had a perfect view of the ocean, which you had become very familiar with while your face was pressed up against the glass and he ravaged you from behind. There was also that time when it was around this time of night and he had thrown all your paperwork off of the conference table and taken you right there, pounding into you like no tomorrow. Yeah, there were a few times you’d found yourself naked before him, pussy gripping his thick cock as your lips clashed with his.

But last time was the last time. You can’t just keep fucking him like this, all over the agency in such scandalous secrecy… the two of you hiding this gruesomely passionate beast you co-own, feeding it only once the the coast is clear and, oh, he feeds it so well… every meal a juicy, fat steak dripping with desire and euphoria, encasing your senses in a silky smooth film as his calloused hands glide all over your—  No!

You shake your head abruptly, derailing your sinful train of thought. You agreed that last time was it, fin. And… the time before that, too… and maybe the one before then as well— well, it doesn’t matter because last time was actually the last time. Pulling yourself together, you make your way toward your desk and begrudgingly begin your work.

By the time the folder is full, the clock indicates that tomorrow has begun and thus, it’s time for you to go home. Without a glance towards the conference room, you make your way toward the elevator, letting out a long sigh as the weight of the day slips from your shoulders. Jabbing your thumb into the button, you lean against the railing and check your phone out of habit. Two new messages from Jirou pique your interest, and you eagerly open the chat log to see what she’d sent.

Jiji 🎸: Girls meeting at the usual tmrw night!! Hope you can make it :)

Jiji 🎸: We all miss ya girly, you’ve been working too much lately ❤️

A part of you feels bad for misleading your friends. It’s not that you aren’t working late these days… it’s that your workload is not the only thing you’re doing when you stay after hours at the agency. Your friends had started to notice all the late nights you’d been spending at your job, and they’d begun to pout when you would bail on their bar-nights. They understood that you were working, and you hoped that they didn’t harbor any further suspicions. You had not told a single soul about your rendezvous with Bakugou Katsuki— the only person who seemed to have an inkling of your relationship, if you could call it that, was Reo.

Sliding your phone into your bag, you decide to try to make it tomorrow night. The last time had been the last time with Bakugou, so you would definitely be free tomorrow night, especially after finishing up the paperwork you had just completed minutes prior. With a wave of determination washing over you, a small smile appears on your lips as you fiddle with your staff key-card absentmindedly, wondering what you should wear when tomorrow night comes around.

When the elevator dings and opens its doors, your feet take you out of the steel chamber and into the cement confines of the parking garage. At this time of night, the only way in and out of the building is through the parking garage gate, seeing as the custodians lock up the front doors long before midnight. But you don’t mind, because the night air is fresh and cool on your face, and the subway is only a three minute walk from the garage exit. Just before you can reach out to tap your key against the automatic gate, an ear-splitting screech roars behind you and you jump, shooting straight up into the air.

Whipping around, headlights nearly blind you as they point right into your eyes. Squinting at the obnoxious light, your vision widens again when you recognize the outline of a sleek and shiny Lamborghini. An orange Lamborghini, to be precise. And a license plate with “G-ZER0” unmistakably tacked onto the front bumper, which sits almost flush against the smooth cement floor.

“Oi, Y/H/N,” a blonde head pokes out from the driver’s window, narrowed red eyes glaring at you. But his lips are curled into a smirk, clearly enjoying your frightened-animal-like reaction to the startling revv of his engine. “You’re blockin’ the way.”

Your hands indignantly turn into fists at your hips, a frown and a furrowed brow marring your expression as you turn around. Smacking the key card against the scanner you strut directly in the middle of the pavement for as long as you can before the road widens. Once the car can easily fit on either side of you, you move over to the sidewalk, arms crossed over your chest as the low car matches your pace, engine purring loudly.

The window next to you rolls down soundlessly, and the blonde leans slightly over his console to crane his face up in order to see yours. “Where are you goin’?” Bakugou inquires, and you can feel his intense gaze on the side of your face but you do not turn to acknowledge him.

“Subway.” You reply shortly, eyes trained straight ahead of you. Three minutes until you reach the subway station, exactly two corners and two blocks away.

The car roars as the angry blonde hits the pedals again, exhaust crackling with a ferocity similar to a big cat’s. The sound is deafening but you don’t waver, feet placing calmly in front of one another. “At this hour?” He pauses for a moment, long enough for you to let your guard down and chance a look at him. Which is a mistake, because goddamn he looks sexy as hell sitting in that exorbitant car, one hand thrown atop the wheel with his bicep on display, the other arm perched atop the console between the seats and those vermillion eyes blazing into you. It’s only a mere second that you give him, but he knows your resolve flutters as you look away quickly, your pace increasing to make him press on the gas just a hair harder to keep up with you.

Your breath catches in your throat when he speaks again, your heart pummeling your ribcage with vigor and a claminess lining your palms.

“Get in.”

It’s neither a question nor a statement— it’s a demand. One that has heat rising between your legs, the embers that had been so surely extinguished suddenly igniting furiously with but a scrap of sustenance. You grit your teeth and keep walking, determined not to get in the car. If you get in that car… you don’t know where you’ll end up. Or, you do know where you might end up, and that would be very bad. It takes a lot of your willpower to spit out a simple, “No thanks.”

Bakugou grumbles at your stubbornness, the vehicle screeching again as he demonstrates his displeasure and the unnecessary horsepower underneath his hood. “Come on, Y/N. Just get in,” he presses, his voice not as harsh as it was just a moment ago.

But you hold your own, flipping a stray lock of hair over your shoulder. “Aw,” you smirk, humoring him for a millisecond as your eyes flick over to him, “‘ya worrying ‘bout me now, Boom-Boy?” Your lips curl into a satisfied smirk as he visibly bristles in the corner of your eye.

“Damn it, I’m trying ‘ta— tch,” Bakugou grumbles and cuts himself off before he apparently decides he’s not going to play the familiar game of cat and mouse with you, “Fuck this.” Tires squealing on the rubble, the sleek car leaves you in the dust, sharply turning the corner ahead of you before disappearing into the night, the noise of the thundering engine echoing through the tall cityscape.

You glare at the corner ahead of you, unimpressed. He was trying to— to what, put you in a pissy mood? Hell of a job he did, if that was the case. Frown sinking into your cheeks deeper than before, you continue your way to the subway station while you pull your phone out to distract you from your miffed thoughts. Turning around the very same corner the orange sports car had rounded just a minute ago, you nearly drop your belongings when a pair of rough hands grip your biceps.

Relief washes over you for a moment when you meet Bakugou's irritated expression, before horror spreads through your limbs as he shoves you into his open passenger door. Without much of a fight you’re inside the vehicle, fruitlessly yanking the door handle only to find it’s locked shut. Sliding back into the luxurious leather seat, you scowl at the hero as he slams his door closed and snags the black seatbelt over his torso. “The fuck, Bakugou?” You hiss, attempting the door again to no avail.

“Hey, easy with that!” He growls, a thick finger flicking the pedal shifter into drive and slapping his boot against the gas. His eyes meet yours as a wicked grin lifts his lips. “Buckle up, Princess.”

Your head smacks against the back of the seat as the car lurches into a velocity that no doubt exceeds the speed-limit. Your hands scramble over your shoulder and you frantically grab the metal clip, unceremoniously shoving the belt across your lap to find its destination. Once the joint clicks into place, your eyes fly to the man beside you, pure rage boiling underneath your skin. “You asshole! I’m gonna rip your dick off!” You yell, the slightly ajar windows letting air zip into the cabin and howl in your ears, your hair flying around your face.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he quips dryly, voice deep but holding an infuriatingly potent tone of amusement.

You shut up at that, heat rising to your cheeks as you look out the window defiantly, away from him. Your eyes trail over the interior of the car, curiosity winning you over as you your fingers trace the smooth features lining the inside of the door. There’s a soft underlighting beneath the seats, glowing an acidic green to compliment the orange of the exterior in a display that screams man with an enormous ego. You roll your eyes, adjusting your legs to point away from him as much as possible.

“I didn’t know you had a Lamborghini. This how you get into your slutty fangirls’ pants? Take ‘em for a ride in the Baku-bile?” You ask, shooting daggers into his sharp jawline. The premise of him fucking faceless girls in the very seat you’re in makes you want to throw up in disgust.

Bakugou snorts at the name, scarlet eyes snapping toward you before settling back on the road. “Don’t need to show ‘em my car to take ‘em for a ride,” he answers snidely, a sharp canine gleaming at you from his smirk.

You don’t acknowledge his reply, one arm crossed over your chest and the other gripping the side of the door harshly as the city flies by outside the windows. You wonder where he’s taking you, because he never asked for your address, but you sure as hell aren’t going to start up a conversation again with that dickwad, so you just simmer in your displeasure instead.

The ride is surprisingly smooth and you would never admit it, but the feeling of him stepping on the acceleration makes your heart thud, adrenaline coursing through your veins and washing over you. You try your best to hide your excitement with every boost of speed, but you don’t catch Bakugou’s eyes lingering on your tiny smile every time he accelerates. You almost whine when the car slows and you pull into an empty parking lot, apprehension settling in your chest as the engine cuts and you’re left in silence, with him. A public park stretches before the lot, empty swings and monkey-bars twirling leisurely in the wind.

He doesn’t say a word, so after an incredibly long and awkward minute you break the ice. “Bakugou… what are we doing here?” You turn to him expectantly, lips melting back into a frown as you give him a once-over. He’s still in that tank top, which you curse for being a part of his hero costume. Why the hell did he have to choose something so flattering?

The blonde casts a side glance at you, leaning back slightly in his seat. “Wanted to have a chat with ‘ya,” he says, turning to look at you fully. The car seems like it is not big enough, for he’s only a short distance away from you and looking handsome as ever. The park before the windshield is illuminated by only the moon and starlight, casting a soft glow onto his smooth skin. The stubble on his jaw scatters tiny shadows across his chin, and those scarlet eyes peer into yours deeply. The moment is full of unrestrained tension, until he speaks again. “Coulda done this in the garage but your stubborn ass wouldn’t gimme the time of day,” he grumbles, effectively releasing you from his trance.

You blink and look away before returning your attention to him, a sour expression on your face. “Okay, dipshit, what did you wanna talk about?” You huff, arms crossing over your chest defensively. So you might have gotten yourself into this, but only a tiny bit.

You’re left hanging, expectantly eyeing him with a measured gaze. His eyes are locked with yours, but his mouth doesn’t move, not a semblance of a word on his lips. You give him that ‘eyes widening and head jutting forward, I’m waiting for you to talk’ look, but still he’s quiet. Tossing your hair over your shoulder impatiently, you let out a frustrated sigh as you close your eyes. “Look,” you start, turning back to him ready to flame his ass, “I don’t—”

Bakugou’s lips are on yours, his hands clutching your jaw and pushing your mouth into his while he leans forward over the console between the seats. A moan tears from your lungs, the familiar scent of caramel crashing over you as he fills up your senses, fingertips weaving into the hair behind your ears. His tongue thrusts into your mouth, greeting yours like a lover desperate to hold his beloved, caressing and rolling and dancing.

Suddenly your hands are on him, one around his back and pressing him toward you while the other threads through his silky soft tresses. A groan rumbles out of him as you pull against his scalp, one of his hands slipping down the back of your head to hold where your neck meets your shoulders, squeezing the sides of your throat gently. An embarrassing mewl floats out of you at that, a string of saliva connecting your mouths as you both gasp for breath.

His red eyes twinkle at you mockingly, a sultry snarl on his lips. But Bakugou doesn’t dare say a word, instead claiming your lips again with his own, sucking in your bottom lip and biting gently with his pointy canines. The hand on your neck remains strong, while his other hand slithers down your chest, groping your breast with enthusiasm and his thumb roving over your already-hard nipple, which he can feel through the fabric of your skin-tight hero costume and bra. He moans at the discovery, fingers eagerly flying to your side and unraveling the zipper there, watching as the skin of your exposed chest becomes illuminated in a mixture of moonlight and the green glow emanating from beneath the seats. Tugging the wire to rest atop your tits, he nearly growls at the sight of them, diving face-first toward you and wrapping his mouth around a nipple. You buck into him, falling back uncomfortably onto the door, but he just crawls onto his seat and leans further into you, red eyes darting up to catch your wanton expression.

Desperately gripping at the shreds of your sanity, a tiny part of you screams out at the wrongness of the situation. “We shouldn't… fuck, Bakug— ohhh,” you whimper as he nibbles at you, your heart rate skyrocketing in desire as you close your eyes, trapping your trembling lip between your teeth. The rationale is pushed away, the only thing you can pay attention to being the way Bakugou’s mouth feels latched onto you, and the hand traveling down your torso to tease between your legs. His rough fingers prod at your cunt through your leotard, expertly locating your clit through the cloth and focusing extra attention there. Simmering tendrils of heat burst through you and you cry out, legs weakly drawing his wide frame closer to you.

After a moment Bakugou sits back in his seat, pulling you with him. It’s a little rocky, not a perfect transition, but you make your way to sit on his lap nonetheless. His large hands palm your tits roughly, pinching your nipples as his tongue wrestles with yours, your moans leaking into his mouth. His body jerks in surprise as your hips begin to roll against his, and you can feel just how bad he wants this too, rubbing into you against your thigh. It only makes him touch you harder, leaning down slightly and becoming lost in the heated kiss. A hand trails down your waist to grab a handful of your ass, cupping the flesh before he slaps it harshly, then holding it in his palm again as his fingers dig into your skin. He drinks up every noise you release, like a starved man receiving his first meal in forever. He pulls away to kiss down your neck, tongue licking a stripe down your throat before his warm mouth lands on your skin, nipping and lathering and sucking.

“This is,” you gasp, coming up for air and that scrap of sanity surfacing in your mind again, “We shouldn’t be doing this, we— we said that last time was the, ahuh-ahh, last… last time.”

Bakugou sucks harder against your neck, his hands on either ass cheek and pulling your bottom against him. The friction of his cock against your core, even with your clothes separating you, makes your head spin and your voice die out. “You want me to stop, hah?” He grumbles against your throat, slick with his saliva. He rolls your hips against his particularly hard, and your hand reaches out to latch onto his shoulder as your pussy twinges in your panties.

You cannot reply, only a high-pitched whimper tumbles out of you because suddenly he’s pushing aside your leotard and panties, digits dipping into your humiliatingly wet entrance. His fingers easily glide up and down your slit, thumb flicking cruelly against your clit as you double over, nails breaching the skin on his shoulders.

“Doesn’t seem like you know what you want,” he comments, voice gravelly and timbre. His other hand rests on your hip, keeping you from grinding against him. He’s looking up at you, eyes darkened with lust and that haughty grin splitting his lips.

You glare at him, eyebrow twitching at his torment, mouth wavering as his fingers continue to tease along your sopping folds. After being with him so many times, you know what he’s waiting for, but you’re absolutely torn; a moth drawn to the flame yet wary of being burnt. “Please, Bakugou,” you murmur, eyes begging him to give you more.

Bakugou’s brow quirks upright, a single knuckle pushing into you and rubbing against your velvet walls. “Please, what, Princess?” He drawls out, almost purring at having you in his favorite position. That being, you, desperate for his touch.

You groan, throwing your head back as another knuckle slides inside, two wide fingertips stretching your cunt so infuriatingly shallowly. You try to move your hips but his grip is iron on your waist, and a long whine falls out of your mouth. “Just— Pleaseee Katsuki,” you beg, not wanting to say the words he truly wants, but not giving him nothing as his name leaves your lips so seductively.

His nostrils flare as he exhales, shifting underneath you as you feel his cock twitch against your leg. “I thought you wanted me to stop?” He growls, tone low enough you can feel his words shake his lungs. They shake something within you, too.

“No,” you breathe out, placing your lips softly against his before pulling away, your eyes boring into his, “I want this, I want you so bad.”

Bakugou groans as he drives his fingers into you knuckle-deep, curling his fingertips and rubbing against your insides. You moan like a whore at the sensation, his thumb still working on your clit clumsily as he pumps his fingers into you. His lips capture yours again, the hand on your hip jumping up to grab onto your neck again and push your lips harder onto his.

A searing heat ebbs through your body as his digits dutifully work within you, and you can’t help but begin to drop your hips against his hand, grinding onto his fingers without restraint. Bakugou clearly appreciates that, a loud moan ripping out of his lungs at the novelty and his fingers press harder into you, colliding into that spongy spot deep inside. You sob at the intensity, pleasure wracking through you as the angle only makes it easier for him to hit that spot— again, and again, and again— until white shapes flash before your eyes and you’re clutching onto him, screaming out as ecstasy thrums through your entire being.

After a minute of your pussy fluttering around him, Bakugou’s fingers pull out of you, and you finally open your eyes to see him looking at you like you’re the hottest person on the planet. “Fuck,” he snarls, lip twitching as he lifts his hips, tugging down his black pants and briefs half-way down his thighs. His heavy cock smacks against his abdomen, looking pale and pretty in the low lighting, glistening with a bead of pre rolling down the side of his length.

You lick your lips at the sight, the desire to shove him into your mouth overcoming you. Bakugou catches your reaction, a low chuckle reverberating his chest and making you glance at him. “I wanna suck you off,” you say quietly, looking over to the passenger seat and wondering if you could do it from that position, because you certainly can’t do it from where you are now.

“Thas’kay Princess,” he mumbles, grabbing your chin and forcing your lips to meet his once again. His tongue glides over your lip slowly, his other hand smacking your ass roughly before he grabs the inside of your thigh, spreading you above him. “That can wait. Need you right now.”

His words send a different kind of shiver down your spine— the kind that was the whole reason why you’d told yourself you needed to stop fucking him in the first place. But right now, in this moment, there is no way you’re not going to fuck him. You’d already come this far, you might as well just indulge yourself in him.

So you do, and you both let out a breath of satisfaction as you rub your dripping cunt against the underside of his length. You lather him up, slickening his member in your arousal from back to front before you press your lips onto his, soft but passionate, and you welcome him inside with ease.

Bakugou’s head falls back onto the headrest as his hands lay slack on your hips. He’s reclined, but his red eyes jump between your face, your tits, and your cunt that sucks him up so greedily as you begin to bounce above him. His mouth hangs open slightly as you find your rhythm, your hands ripping up the bottom of his tank top to lay your palms on his chest and his abs, a thumb scratching through his kept and dark happy trail. “Hah— fuck, Y/NNN,” he moans, closing his eyes to succumb to the pleasure for a moment before he forces them back open, refusing to miss out on such a dreamy sight. Memorizing your body, willing himself to remember each moan and blissful expression you give, storing it away so he can burn them into his spank bank.

Once he’s had his fill of the wondrous sight, he sits up, mouth sucking in your nipple as his hands still your hips, grabbing the flesh there and wiggling to adjust himself underneath you. Ecstasy shoots through you as he takes the lead, thrusting up harshly to prod deep inside your womb, stretching you out and rubbing so deliciously against your g-spot. “Oh, god, Katsuki,” you wheeze as he just goes faster, thick and muscular thighs providing enough means to continue like this for who knows how long. Just as you begin to feel your orgasm build once again, his pace slows, and you’re about to complain before a long finger is thrust into your mouth.

Bakugou groans as your tongue coats the digit in spit, not needing instruction. “You gonna be a good girl for me, Princess?” He questions before he takes the finger out.

Your arms fold around his neck as you nod and kiss him again, drunk on his lips and his touch. He welcomes the tender moment, a hand planting on your ass and spreading you again before his wet finger meets your asshole, making you jump into him with wide eyes. “Ka—”

His lips pull you back in, silencing your hesitance as he begins to thrust his cock up into you again, pace measured and slow. The roll of his hips provides a new type of pleasure as his cock drags against your inner walls, your clit rolling on his pelvis. You quiver on top of him, hole puckering as his finger rubs around your rim. You whimper when he pushes inside, the small stretch foreign and stinging. But he doesn’t push it any further, just continues to lazily grind up inside of you, his tongue playing with yours. He only breaks away to whisper praise to you that makes your pussy shiver around him, “Good girl, you’re sucha good girl Y/N.”

Before long the digit is up to the second knuckle, and you’re a moaning mess above him. The feeling of his finger in your ass, with his cock stretching and pushing in and out of you— it has your eyes crossing in pleasure. The thin wall separating his cock and his finger continues to rub exquisitely on both sides, sending waves of fuzzy bliss coursing through your limbs.

The extra penetration seems to also be affecting Bakugou, for his thrusts begin to pick up as he starts slapping up into you with renewed ferocity. The stimulation from your pussy and your clit already have you clenching, but then he starts to push his finger in and out of your ass slowly, and you’re holding onto him for dear life, your head on his shoulder as you mewl into his neck. You can feel your orgasm approaching, and so can Bakugou, who nuzzles your face a bit before he kisses you again. Your lips dance sloppily, your body jostling as he pounds into you from below, and you begin to whimper as your cunt tightens around his cock.

“Still want me to stop?” He hisses, rough palm clapping across your ass cheek.

“Fuck no,” you pant, planting your knees on the seat beside his thighs and bucking up and down in tune with his pace.

Bakugou groans at your initiative, knuckle sliding deeper inside of you and gauging your reaction as your shudder against him in pleasure. “You like a finger in the ass, hah? Fucking slut,” he snarls as he rubs the digit inside of you, eliciting a low moan from the depths of your lungs.

You’re bouncing on his lap as best as you can, your head skimming the top of the car’s interior while you claw at his shoulders. “God, Katsuki, mphhh—” The added pressure of you sinking down as he ruts up is almost enough for you to cum, and Bakugou knows exactly how close to the finish line you are, grabbing your jaw and tugging your face to hang directly in front of his.

You brow furrows and your heartbeat hastens at the intimacy, passion crackling between the pair of you as his vermillion orbs burn into you. You don’t want to let him see such a vulnerable part of you, but he starts to slam into that spot deep inside of you mercilessly, determined to show you how good he can make you feel. Your orgasm tears through you and an overwhelming heat blasts into your body like wildfire through dry grass. A broken shriek releases from you as your eyes slam shut, limbs shaking, nails diving into his traps, and toes curling in your shoes.

Bakugou gasps as you constrict around him, moving his hands to clasp onto your hips tightly, throwing your body down to meet his as he pistons into you. Skull falling backwards limply, your tongue lolls out like a bitch in heat, his actions dragging out your mind-numbing climax delightfully long. He launches at the exposed skin of your neck, teeth sinking into your throat hard enough to leave dark bruises there, moaning shamelessly into your flesh as his thrusts become quicker, needier. “S-Shit, where should I— ‘m gonna—”

Your fingers rush to his hair, snapping his head backwards and his eyes widen in surprise, but you smother his open mouth with yours immediately, your tongue plunging into his wet cavern and claiming him as your own. Your hips hurl onto his with finality and the blonde stiffens beneath you, trembling fingers pressing into your skin. A loud groan rattles both of your bodies as his load spills into you, coating your womb in his sticky release as you continue to drop onto his searing cock slowly. When he comes down from his high he squeezes your waist gently to signal you to stop, sitting back with his jaw hung open slightly, laboured and choppy breaths making his sculpted chest rise and fall sharply.

You let him pull you into his embrace, his large biceps caging you against his chest as he tries to catch his breath. It’s peaceful laying in his arms, the post-orgasm bliss thriving and filling the entire cabin of the vehicle in a hot and sweet scent. Or maybe that was just Bakugou— you subtly sniff his skin and smile, the caramel-like aroma from his exertion wafting off of him. He’s warm, and somehow even though his muscles are rock-hard beneath you, his embrace is soft. You nuzzle into his neck as his fingers glide over your moist back, arms locked around your waist.

Neither of you say a word, two heartbeats thumping rapidly against each other as you enjoy each other’s presence. The both of you desperately cling to this moment of serenity, knowing that soon enough you’ll have to go back to normal, and this will have just been another “last time.”  

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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no one asked for this but i did it anyway 🤪🤪 happy birthday blasty 💥💚🧡

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[canonicallyanxious]

“i trust you, too.”

Druck | Fatou/Kieu My | 1.5k words

Inspired by this prompt from anonymous: kieu my painting fatou's nails

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Thank you for the prompt, anon!! Post-canon/established relationship set in the summertime bc I’m tired of this winter and I miss the warmth. hope you enjoy this tiny thing! <3

The patio door’s wide open, gauzy curtains gently caught on the breeze - which looks nice, sure, but does almost nothing to combat the oppressive heat of the summer hanging over Kieu My’s room. The ceiling fan is turning at full speed, and Fatou has a tall tumbler filled to the brim with ice sitting cradled in her hands. Doesn’t seem to help all that much, honestly. She presses the glass to her cheek and shudders at the sudden cold. It feels good in that one spot, a sharp contrast to the hot stickiness plastering her shirt to her skin. If she poured it all over herself she’d probably make a mess of Kieu My’s room. So she can’t do that, because it’d be rude as hell.

Still. It’d be nice.

Kieu My’s down to a black tank top and a pair of Fatou’s shorts, face bare of make-up and hair pulled hastily up into a messy bun. She hardly put any effort into it, wispy strands slipping out of its hold and falling into her eyes as she stretches her arms above her head, tank top riding up a couple centimeters to expose the smooth tan of her stomach. Maybe six months ago Fatou wouldn’t have even allowed herself to daydream of something like this, to imagine she could be in such close proximity to someone so beautiful. She would have been a stuttering mess if Kieu My so much as took her jacket off in front of her - had been, in fact, embarrassing as it was to remember. Back then it almost seemed like she belonged to some faraway planet Fatou would never have the guts to reach. Too pretty, too bright to be quite true.

Now there are no nerves, no butterflies in her stomach. Now looking at Kieu My fills her with peace, with stillness. Now she knows - the most beautiful thing about Kieu My is how real she is.

Kieu My exhales, long and low, and meets Fatou’s eyes. There’s a very faint flush in her cheeks, from the heat or something else Fatou couldn’t say. “Can’t even think in this fucking heat,” she murmurs. Her tongue swipes over her bottom lip, slightly chapped.

Fatou carefully sets the glass down on the floor. “Would you want to be thinking?”

“Don’t know.”

A long pause. Almost like Kieu My doesn’t know what to say next. That’s okay, though. Fatou can fill in the gaps for herself.

“So you need a distraction,” she says.

Kieu My huffs out a quiet laugh. “Like what?”

“Like…” Fatou stretches her legs out in front of her and frowns down at her feet, thinking hard. She flexes her foot, letting her toes brush against Kieu My’s shin.

Her toes.

She breaks into a smile. “Like painting my toenails,” she says, giving them another little wriggle for good measure.

Kieu My pinches Fatou’s big toe between two fingers. “Yeah?”

“I’ve been meaning to do them for a while, anyway.” Fatou shrugs. “I can do yours too, if you want. If you trust me.”

“Of course I trust you,” Kieu My says with a roll of her eyes. She reaches behind her and grabs a pile of random nail polish bottles from her nearby dresser. She dumps them on the floor and flourishes her hands dramatically over them. “What color would you like, m’lady?”

Fatou lets herself fall down onto the floor, face turned to the ceiling and arms folded across her stomach. “You pick.”

Kieu My circles her hand around her ankle and pulls her foot into her lap. “Are you sure?”

Fatou nods.

“Okay.” Kieu My’s expression turns playfully stern. “Don’t look, then. It needs to be a surprise.”

Fatou squints at the ceiling, the motion of the fan above her head blurring across her vision. Kind of makes her dizzy if she looks at it for too long, even lying down. It’s moving too fast to count the rotations. She doesn’t even try.

There’s the sound of a nail polish bottle being screwed open. “Are you looking?” Kieu My says accusingly. There’s too much of her smile in her voice for it to sound real, though. Fatou doesn’t have to look to know that.

“No.” She closes her eyes. “I trust you, too.”

Kieu My says nothing to that. So there’s silence for a bit. Fatou listens to it carefully. Cars passing by the open patio door, rhythmic like an ocean; the gentle clink of the nail polish brush against the bottle; Kieu My’s breaths, slow and measured and focused as she works. She’s quite meticulous about this kind of thing, always careful to do it the right way. If Fatou had to guess she’s probably starting with a coat of clear polish. Then there will be two coats of color, and a coat of varnish to seal it all away. The color, whatever it is, will last a while this time - Fatou already knows it.

The brush is a nice feeling against her nails, oddly enough. She’s never really paid much attention to the sensation before - never really had much reason to. She could be on her phone right now if she wanted to be. Or reading a book. Or thinking about some distant world lightyears away. But this is nice, too. No distractions means she can pay attention to the feeling of Kieu My’s hands against her skin. Which is kind of one of her favorite things to do.

“You okay over there?” Fatou says to the ceiling.

“Yeah.” Fingertips press lightly into the sole of her foot, warm and reassuring. “Nice to have something to do with my hands.”

Fatou considers those words. “You don’t like doing nothing, do you?”

“Not really.”

Fatou hums tunelessly. “Don’t like being bored?”

Kieu My snorts. “No, nothing like that.” She sighs, hands brushing against Fatou’s foot as she works. “It’s more… Sometimes my thoughts move so fast, you know? It’s… overwhelming. Like they’re just racing and racing and I don’t even know what they’re saying, all I know is that they’re moving. And sometimes I don’t know how to make them stop.”

“That doesn’t sound fun,” Fatou says.

Kieu My laughs. It sounds a little self-deprecating. “I don’t know. Things get too loud sometimes, I guess. But if I have something to focus on… That helps make things go quiet again, for a bit.”

It makes sense, if she thinks about it. What Kieu My needs is not so much a distraction, but a focal point. Some direction for all the motion in her head to go. Fatou thinks she knows a little of what that’s like, to crave something to anchor yourself to. The thought of drifting away with nothing to hold onto scares her more than she’d probably admit out loud.

“Sorry.” Fatou can almost hear Kieu My shaking her head, can almost see the way her hair brushes over her shoulders in her mind’s eye. “Sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

“Not at all.” Fatou taps her fingers against her other wrist as she tries to find the words. “I was just thinking I kind of feel like I have the opposite problem sometimes.”

“Yeah?”

“Like…” She chews at her lip. “Like my thoughts are moving through molasses. Like sometimes I’m just… floating.”

Silence, for a beat. Then:

“Maybe if we melded our brains together,” Kieu My says, “we could have one super-brain that goes at the right speed and then we’ll almost be one fully functioning human being.”

Laughter springs out of Fatou, unbidden. “What a dream.”

“Science will get us there one day.”

“Yeah?” Fatou cracks an eye open and smiles at Kieu My. “Do you think we’ll be drift-compatible if they start making jaegers?”

“Duh.” Kieu My grins back at Fatou. “Don’t ask me to fight monsters from another dimension though, that sounds fucking hard. We can use our jaeger to - fuck, I don’t know, travel the world or something. That sounds like something you can do in a jaeger, right?”

“Or go to space.” Fatou tucks her hands under her head. “You can’t tell me a giant robot person wouldn’t make the coolest spaceship you’ve ever seen.”

“I can’t because you’re absolutely right.”

Kieu My makes a quiet little noise of satisfaction, then. There’s the sound of a nail polish bottle being screwed closed, and the warmth of a bare palm resting against the top of Fatou’s foot.

“Done,” Kieu My says. “Wanna see?”

Fatou props herself up on her elbows, and looks down.

“Wow,” she says. She wiggles her toes, now painted a midnight blue that gleams and shimmers when caught in the light. “It’s beautiful.”

Kieu My uses a hand to push her bangs out of her face. “I picked a color that reminds me of you.”

“Does that mean I need to pick a color that reminds me of you?”

Kieu My shrugs. “If you want.”

Fatou reaches into the pile of nail polish and pulls out a bottle filled to the brim with a deep crimson red.

“The color of your heart,” she says.

Kieu My looks up at her. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” Fatou says. “You picked the color of mine.”

Kieu My reaches out and closes Fatou’s fingers around the bottle, warmth of her palm resting lightly against her knuckles.

“You say such pretty things,” she says.

Fatou meets Kieu My’s eyes. “I only say things that are true.”

“Yeah,” Kieu My says, and smiles. “Same thing.”

[inactiive]

submit to me — r.w.

ron weasley x reader

summary: you’re determined to make ron regret purposely trying to make you jealous.

prompt: “i’m the only one who can touch this wet fucking mess of yours.”

warnings: mentions of alcohol, light slapping, choking, degrading, vulgar language, cockwarming, denial of orgasm, spitting kink 

author’s note: hope ygs like this bc it’s my first time reading smut akdhskjdkd. also this is another lovely prompt by @anchoeritic and sub!ron bc i’m a whore for him. 

“oh that’s it sweetheart” groaned ron as he released hot spurts of cum inside of your worn out cunt. at the same time, you were riding out your orgasm and trying to catch your breath. 

slowly, you pulled away from ron, making him whimper, and you instantly stood up to get dressed again. he watched you carefully while he was still naked on his bed. 

“erm— y/n?” he whispered quietly, as if he was afraid to talk to you. he wasn’t, of course, but it was always tense after having sex with you. “yes ronald?” you looked up with a slight smirk on your face, taking pride in the effect you had on him. “well... i was thinking... maybe we could.. we could...” 

you lifted his chin so he could make eye contact with you, “cmon baby don’t be shy with me. you know you can tell me. what do you want us to do?”

the red haired boy blushed at your pet name you had for him, which made his face match his hair. he cleared his throat, “blimey y/n.. i was thinking we could go to.. go to hogsmede together sometime..?” he looked away out of embarrassment “i dunno it was just a thought that popped-“

“sorry ron i’ve just been so busy recently and i don’t think i really have time to go to hogsmede anytime soon. but maybe some other time— anyways i have to go to charms i’ll see you later!” and just like that you were gone. ron sat in his bed alone and thought about your answer. “surely she can’t be that busy, she’s here almost every bloody day!”

he finally shrugged on some clothes and left his dorm to find his next class, trying to ignore the what twinge in his heart.

—————————

the next few days ron started ignoring you. he would decline your offer for him to fuck you leaving you confused. ron was your main way of distressing. that and you liked the way he smelled. if you had to admit it to yourself, you missed ron but the thought of having feelings for him made you want to vomit. 

everyone throughout the school knew that none of your relationships ended well. the reason why each relationship you had ended practically screamed commitment issues. you were scared. you didn’t want to hurt ron. you would never forgive yourself if you would.

so, you turned to the next best thing: alcohol. 

fortunately for you, you wouldn’t have to sneak around to the kitchens to find some because there was a party being held in the gryffindor common room. you really didn’t know why and could care less. 

as you consumed more or the burning liquid down your throat, your vision started to blur and you would occasionally lose your balance. but you knew deep down this wouldn’t distract you from a certain red head that ate far too quickly. godric you missed him so much. being without him made you sexually and romantically frusturated. 

“oh ronnie come dance with meee!” 

you turned your head at the familiar nickname to see ron dancing way too close to lavender brown. his hands slowly traveled down her waist and it was obvious he was becoming increasingly aroused. ron, of course, knew that you were staring daggers at lavender-- which was the point. he knew it was wrong of him to use lavender as a way to make you jealous, but he couldn’t help it. how else would he get your attention?

so when he saw you walking towards his direction, he tried not to smirk. “hello y/n fancy seeing you-” before he could finish his sentence, you grabbed his arm and dragged him away from lavender. you placed your lips dangerously close near his ear before speaking. “you better be in my dorm in five minutes or you’ll get worse than what’s coming for you.” and with that you turned your heel, quickly running up to your dorm room. 

your words traveled straight down to ron’s cock and he grabbed the nearest drink he could find (and maybe a couple more) before slowly making his way up to what was yet to happen. 

when he entered your dorm you were sitting on your bed, wearing nothing but his jumper, making sure he could see your bare cunt. this made ron inwardly groan and his boxers were becoming increasingly uncomfortable. 

“ronnie” you said putting an emphasis on what lavender called him. “i want you to kneel down at the end of the bed,” you then lifted up his chin, “and you’re going to watch me finger my pussy. but you’re not allowed to touch.” with that, you roughly let go of his face and spread your legs. 

you started to rub circles on your clit before wasting no time and inserting two digits into yourself. you let out a loud breathy moan, making sure ron could hear you clearly. 

as you fuck yourself with your fingers you try to speak, “godric do you know how many days its been since i’ve fucked you. i’ve missed your cock so much baby. and then god!” you groaned as your fingers brushed your g-spot “and then i see you dancing with someone else like some whore.” ron instantly moaned at your insult. 

your rough thrusts into your cunt became increasingly faster as you maintained eye contact with the boy in front of you. the only noises heard were your high pitched moans and the wetness from your folds. “please... y/n...”

“please what? what do you want from me?”

“i want to watch you cum.” and with that, your back arched and your body started to spasm as you let your white liquids fall out of you. once you recovered from your orgasm you instantly pulled ron by his shirt and pushed him onto the bed. you ripped off his shirt to reveal the plethora of hickies you last left on his chest. once he was stripped down to only his boxers, you rubbed his erection. “oh g-god... you’re bloody perfect y/n.” 

you slapped him lightly and commanded him to open his mouth, which ron obeyed instantly. you spat right into his mouth “swallow it.” your hand moved down to his neck and you squeezed it. “you’re going to regret ever putting your hands on anyone else but me.”

you removed his boxers and his cock sprung free. the tip was red and already dripping with pre cum. your mouth watered at this and you began slowly licking him. “i’m the only one” you said between kitty licks “who can touch” ron bucked his hips up and moaned. “this wet fucking mess of yours, do you understand?”

“yes-- yes! i understand y/n... oh please let me cum! i’m so close please please!” he mewled. 

you began deep throating him and right before he was about to coat your mouth, you pulled off, making him whimper. you slapped him again, “only good boys deserve to come and today you decided to act like a brat.” 

you climbed on top of him and positioned your very needy cunt over his cock. before you sunk down onto him you looked at him and he nodded at you. once he filled you up, you both groaned simultaneously. “oh god baby you fill me up so well...” 

ron began to move upwards but you stopped him instantly, “what are you doing baby boy? did i say you could move?”

“i- uh...”

you laughed darkly, “oh my sweet prince...

“...you have no idea what you got yourself into.”

[hoseokmylovesworld]

Sway Me More | Mafia!Jungkook (M)

Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x Assassin!OC  

Part 2: Sway With Me (M) / Part 3: Sway Me Smooth 

Requested: Anonymous:

“ ok i think i got something. i was thinking e2l mafia leader!jk and assassin!oc. they're always competing on killing the same enemies and oc beats kook to it everytime but plot twist he's actually sleeping w oc in secret, his gang doesn't know that she basically does the dirty work for him. maybe a scene where jk is busy in his office and feels something is off and he and oc pull guns on one another but its just a form of power play bc that's their relationship. dirty talk, oral male receiving, reverse cowgirl in his office chair, choking, little bit of degradation bc one of the victims oc had to seduce but kook calls her his little slut bc he's possessive like that and they both just have lots of tattoos and piercings. maybe some light bondage too? he ties her hands and the petname sweetness? i love that shit sm. ok i'm out of ur hair now fksks ”

Genre: Mafia!Jungkook, BTS mafia au, Smut, humor, e2l, angst, pining.

Length: 15,664k Words

Warnings: Strong language, lots of violence, minor deaths, guns, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, squirting, overstimulation, orgasm denial, dirty talk, BDSM(?), degradation kink, praise kink, light bondage, choking, breath play, spanking, rough sex (if you couldn’t tell), possessive!jungkook, Mr. and Mrs. Smith vibes.

A/N:

1. Not sure if this counts as a Song Fic, but this ask immediately made me think of Sway With Me by Saweetie and GALAXARA hence the title so that was on repeat haha (Stream Birds of Prey: The Album and Stay Gold for clear skin!!).

2. I didn’t mean to make the OC that crazy she just kinda was. Like honestly I don’t know what happened at the end there. Also, I thought it would be a fun dynamic for them to only refer to each other by last names. (Y/L/N)

3. Shouts out to this anon for being so specific! Writing this fic ruined my search history.

3.b You said a little bit of degradation, but I mighta over did it lol.

4. This is really fucking long. For no reason...I’m not sorry, it’s all worth it in the end. Please leave a comment, let me know what you think

Jungkook sat in the back seat of his black town car parked at the street corner, his eyes never leaving a specific window of the skyscraper adjacent to him. He watched as the piece of shit who meddled with his gang’s last drug deal canoodled with his lady friend in his apartment. Probably a hooker, he thought. This particular criminal to land on the mafia’s hit list, has been known to bring home many a sex worker. 

He took a look at his Rolex and sighed; the man as slowly, but surely losing patience. They’ve been here for a good hour. A hit has never taken this long to complete for Jungkook’s team. He communicated his frustrations to his sniper, Taehyung, who was camped out in the building directly across from the apartments. 

“When the fuck is this bitch gonna leave?” He grumbled through his earwig to his employee and friend. Taehyung laughs tiredly. 

“Yeah, I’m asking myself the same thing. They’re not even fucking, they’ve been talking and kissing for like thirty minutes.” The sniper griped.

Jungkook chuckled, hearing the response in his ear. “Just stay sharp. Or you’re back on cockfight duty.”

Taehyung paused. “You wouldn’t.” 

“Just focus, yeah?” Jungkook said, refocusing his binoculars to check on the couple in the apartment so that he could see them clearly. The bright lights in the room and the lack of curtains or shades helped him out immensely with that.

“Sure thing, boss.” 

Jungkook could barely craft a response due to the shock that took over him at what happened next. He watched as the female sitting to the left of the target with her legs draped over his thighs, pulled a knife, seemingly out of her crotch, and stabbed the white collar criminal in the gut at lightning speed. 

He lurched up in pain and grabbed at the knife only for his date to pull it out and stab him again, making deep eye contact all the while. She was obviously a strong woman to overpower a man of his burley stature. But why would she want to?                   ��                                                                                                                                    

“What the fuck was that?” Jungkook asked immediately, continuing to watch the scene unfold carefully.

“Looks like his date just stabbed him.” Taehyung responded, just as confused as his superior. 

“I can fucking see that, but why the fuck would the hooker kill him?” He raised his voice in annoyance. The murderous hooker finished the job, wiping her fingerprints off of the knife still lodged in the target's stomach and travelled to  a nearby closet. 

Jungkook watched, overcome with awe and confusion, as she returned with a duffle bag. And his jaw literally drops when he sees her pull white coveralls out of the duffle bag, put them on over her clothes and switch off the lights in the apartment, completely blocking Jungkook’s view.

“Fuck, what’s she doing now, Taehyung?” He asked quickly, knowing that the scope on his sniper had night vision. 

“She’s...cleaning the apartment...and the body.” 

So she’s done this before, Jungkook thought pensively.

“Do you recognize her?” He uttered, needing to know more about this woman  immediately.

“Hell no, I would remember this bitch.” The gunman responds instantly.  

“What the fuck is going on?” His boss muttered to himself and Taehyung took the liberty of answering him. 

“She’s leaving.” 

Jungkook cocked his head back in surprise. “Well that was fast.” 

 “You’re telling me...she’s making her way to the street. You want us to go after her?” 

He thinks about it. No harm done, he figured.

“No, leave her be. Less mess for us.” 

“Roger that.” Taehyung nodded and packed his things. Jungkook ordered his driver to take him home and they called it a very eventful day. 

What Jungkook didn’t count on was encountering that same perpetrator again...and again. Ever since he came across this deadly woman the first time, it’s like he can’t escape her now. “The Hooker”, as the mafia were calling her, had killed three more of the names on their hit list of people who had crossed them...directly before Jungkook’s men got the chance to do it themselves. 

And the fact that it didn’t affect the gang took a backseat to the amount of irritation it brought them and Jungkook for their victim to drop dead in front of them at the hands of someone else. It angered Jungkook because he didn’t know who she was or her motives. She was obviously dangerous and stealthy and could be coming for them next for all they knew. He knew he had to catch her and find out what she was about. 

“Alright, guys. You know what to do.” Jungkook huffed to his men through his earpiece as they prepared to ambush a traitor of the gang. He had been on the run recently, selling mafia secrets and tonight the gang would put an end to him and soon, everyone he blabbed to. 

After three days of following leads, they took to tracking and set out after him. Jungkook and his members followed the conspirator from a distance and three different sides in an attempt to corner him in the ominous dark of the night. They were closing in on the ex-gang member consistently and it all seemed to come to fruition when he shuffled into a dark alley. 

This is too easy, the mafia boss thought enthusiastically to himself. Jungkook and six of his men sped up in pursuit, hoping to trap the imbecile before he realized he was a dead end. Finally, the group turned into the alley quickly, expecting to find a young man ready to shit his pants. Instead they found his slumped over corpse that had been propped up against a dumpster. 

Jungkook’s spine straightened in astonishment. They literally just saw him walk into the alley and he just drops dead? Each of the men look around for who could have done this in possibly two minutes flat. The leader draws his gaze to the roof directly in front of him and grinds his teeth in anger at the sight in front of him. The Hooker from weeks ago stood above them with an amused smirk on her face in a black, hooded catsuit. 

“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” He roared.

“Would you clean that up for me? Thanks.” She deflected playfully and took off in the opposite direction, jumping from one rooftop to another.

“Get her.” Jungkook said calmly, still looking at the spot where the woman was previously standing. He’s had enough of this nonsense and he would be getting answers.

The gang moves out immediately, splitting up in search of the murderer. Two of them take the firescape closest to them, while the remaining men circle around the buildings to cut her off eventually. In the meantime, Jungkook calms himself down and examines the body.

“How did she even do this?” He pulled a leather glove from his breast pocket and moved the head of the deceased to the right side, looking him over carefully. He promptly noticed bruising around his neck and blood on the crown of his head.

“She choked you out that fast...without making a sound?” He whispered, completely impressed, but absolutely irritated at the same time. He sighed, at a loss and took it upon himself to actually dispose of the body. He waited in the alley with his arms crossed, thinking of how he wanted to interrogate this possible threat. 

His men communicated to him that the woman had seriously injured Jimin and Suga and that Hoseok and Jin would stay with them, but the good news was that they caught her and were on their way back.

“Wonderful.” He sighed sarcastically into his earpiece. 

After thirty long minutes, Namjoon and Taehyung re-entered the alley, this time carrying their new victim by her arms, her hands restrained behind her back with the rope originally meant for the traitor. She struggled against their hold as they made their way in until she laid eyes on Jungkook. 

She straightened slowly and walked with confidence, studying him thoughtfully as they passed the mafia leader and turned her to face him while forcing her to her knees. She winced slightly as her knee caps came in contact with the hard, wet ground.

The three of them watched carefully as the leader paced back and forth leisurely, his gaze focused on the puddles on the ground with his hand picking at nothing in particular on his lip. His train of thought was disrupted when the voice of the woman echoed through the alley.

“You gonna say something?” She scoffed impatiently. Jungkook turned to her slowly, revealing his dark, disapproving facial expression. He didn’t miss the flash of mischief in her eyes when they finally made eye contact.

“You incopacitated two of my men.” He started, continuing to walk back and forth in front of them with his hands behind his back. 

“They were chasing me.” She shrugged.

Jungkook stopped in his tracks at the negligence of her tone. He turned on his heel to face his suspect with a serious face. “Who are you and why do you keep killing my targets?” he demanded, just wanting to get to the point of why they were here. A humored smile broke out across her face.

“Your targets? Someone’s a little full of themselves.” She giggled innocently.

“Tell me and I won’t take a hammer to both your shoulders.” He said smoothly looking deeply into her eyes making sure he got his point across. 

Her cocky smirk dissipates but doesn't completely disappear. 

“You don’t have a hammer.” she muttered to herself, thinking that the mafia leader couldn’t hear her. He just gave her a pointed look, silently telling her to continue. She licks her lips slowly while holding Jungkook’s stormy gaze. 

“I was paid, you asshole.” She muttered.

“By who?” 

“No one you and your goons need to worry about.” He sighed and looked up in frustration. “Why?” 

The woman shook her head furiously. “Are you daft? It’s my job, obviously.” 

Jungkook whipped his head in her direction, his eyes widening slightly and his voice taking on a more agitated tone. 

“You disrespect me one more time and I’m gonna slap that smug smirk off your face.” He warned her harshly.

“Promises, promises.” She sang with that self-satisfied grin that he was having mixed feelings about. 

With that, Jungkook swifty brought his hand up to backhand the assailant and jumped in her direction, but stopped when his hand was halfway to her face. She didn’t move an inch or even blink. She even narrowed her eyes at him playfully. 

He backed away from her, impressed. She may have earned some of Jungkook’s respect that day, but he would never tell a single soul about it. He composed himself, eyeing her carefully. He then enganges her in a more calm conversation.

“Do you know who I am?” 

“Yes.” 

“Does your employer know who I am?” 

“I have multiple. Some do.” She shrugs coolly. 

“What do they—” 

“Look we know you're in charge of the mafia, or whatever, but we don’t care. The people I’ve killed have wronged more than just you and your circus of idiots here and they deserved to die.” She gestured to the two henchmen holding her in place. 

“Besides I did you a favor. Several, actually. I’m a blessing in disguise.” She smiled sweetly.

Jungkook shakes his head in disagreement. “You’re a fucking pain in my ass is what you are.” 

“Oh, what a pleasure. And how do you figure that?” 

“Some mysterious...aggressor taking out a number of important people on the east side. Wouldn’t that alarm you in my position?” He queried with a raised, pierced brow. 

“Mysterious? Mr. Jeon, do you find me attractive?” She leans forward and is yanked back in place by the men flanking her. She held a suddenly sultry and intense light behind her eyes directed at Jungkook. 

He couldn’t deny her beauty; anything with a pulse would be attracted to her. Seeing her up close, he noticed her many piercings along her ears, on her septum and her left brow, just like his. He could see tattoos peeking out from her sleeves and neckline of her suit and he wondered just how much of her body was covered by tattoos. 

He was trying not to let that get in the way of this interrogation and failing miserably with his mind wandering in dangerous directions. It didn’t help that he couldn’t look her in the eye for too long, her gaze was so captivating and somehow held so many emotions that they caused him to lose focus. 

He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment before asking, “What is your name?” 

“Deathstalker.” Wow, Jungkook thought to himself. 

“You wanna tell me your real name?” He offered, nodding at her.

“That’s the only name you're gonna get. And just a heads up, I’m not gonna talk if you torture me.” She says confidently with hooded lids. Is she bored?, the mob boss thought. He began to pace for a few moments, the only sound in the alley coming from his designer shoes squelching against the damp concrete.

“No...no, we’re not gonna hurt you.” Jungkook decided. The two henchmen that were restraining the woman, looked up in shock. Jungkook has injured or killed people for far less than what she’s done in the past hour. 

She tilts her head uncomfortably in the hold of the gang members, to get a good look at the mafia leader’s face. She gasps and beams as if she’s had an epiphany. 

“You like me.” She settled. 

He whips around to face her. “What are you on about?” 

“I thought I was gonna have to seduce you to get you off my back, but it seems you already have a soft spot for me.” She deduced with an appeased grin on her face. 

Jungkook’s breathing deepened. He thought quickly of what he could do to draw the attention away from the truth of her statement. He didn’t know what it was about her, but she was different from any of the other suspicious characters he’s interrogated. And for some reason he didn’t want to hurt her, but he couldn’t be seen as weak in front of his inferiors. 

In a flash, he was directly in front of her, teeth clenched and gripping her face tightly in his strong hand. His fingers pressed roughly into her jaw, her cheeks were forced to scrunch up, obscuring her vision and her mouth was bound to a permanent, painful pout.��

“Stop spewing nonsense, I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last woman on earth. You’re too dirty.” He lied gratingly. “I don’t have soft spots for anyone and you would do well to learn that. Come into my sight again and you’ll see what kind of damage I can really do.” He seethed. 

“Hot.” Deathstalker replied through forcibly clenched teeth. Jungkook sighed before flimsily releasing her chin, flinging it to the right causing her to wince. Jungkook inwardly did the same at the sight. 

“Let her go.” The henchmen do as they are told. “Get out of my sight.” She got up off her knees awkwardly with her bound wrists.

“I’m sure you know how to get rid of that yourself.” Jungkook nodded at the rope around her wrists. She nodded back casually and walked passed Jungkook, brushing up against him as she did so. 

“Catch you on the flip side.” She whispered to him before she took off in a run into the night.

Three weeks had passed without a surprise appearance from “Deathstalker” and Jungkook was beginning to think she had actually heeded his warning in the alley. He should be pleased with this fact, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

Not only was the thought of her ingrained in his mind, but he was slowly convincing himself that maybe he did appreciate her services even if he wasn’t the one paying for them. His men seem to have gotten lazier with the physical side of organized crime since Jungkook’s encounter with Deathstalker. 

Or perhaps with no one to properly clean up the mess left after a hit, he’s noticing just how sloppy they’ve been. Either way, people are talking and names are traveling through the air like pollution; they can’t go on like this. 

He and his men have been actively searching for the assassin and any information they could find on her. The leader didn’t disclose his true motives to his foot soldiers for fear of looking weak, but he couldn’t have the feds knocking down the doors of his companies and he was desperate. They succeeded in finding her real name, her past hits and the names of some of her employers, but nothing on where she was hiding or how to contact her. 

Jungkook curses himself for not realizing Deathstalker’s worth sooner and tries to calm his rampant mind by chugging his flute of champagne. He looks around, disinterested at the ostentatious group of people at the pompous event he was advised to attend. 

As the head of the leading construction company on the east side and since no one suspected his night job, he showed his face in these environments from time to time. This one happens to be an art auction and Jungkook was regretting it by the minute. 

He quickly snagged one more flute of champagne before taking his seat in the front row for the auction. Half-way through the auction he considers leaving, he hasn’t raised his number card once as none of the pieces appealed to him. His head began to lull back out of pure boredom before he heard an all-too familiar voice above the noise. 

“Two million dollars!” The voice was forthright and attractive, causing every head to turn in it’s direction. 

Jungkook didn’t have to look far as the owner of the voice was sitting in the front row as well, roughly twelve seats away. His eyes widened at his suspicions being proven correct. He stares at her for a few moments, taking in her full appearance since meeting her for the first time in the alley. 

She traded in the black cat suit for a peach colored cocktail dress that hung off of one shoulder and blinding white pumps. She covered up her tattoos with makeup to Jungkook’s dismay, but still showed off her many piercings and her long wavy hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail. That’s a good look, thought Jungkook who spared her one last glance before settling into his seat and devising a plan for how the rest of the night will go. 

The auction finally came to an end and the elites took to day drinking and networking once more. Jungkook blended in with the crowd, but kept a close eye on Deathstalker, waiting to find her away from her companions. He spotted her amongst strangers, nursing a glass of champagne and intently watching the middle aged crooner sing along with the orchestra.

When Marimba Rhythms start to play

Dance with me 

Make me sway

Then he pounced.

He positioned himself behind her and leaned in to speak softly into her ear. “What are you doing here?” 

She didn’t flinch or even react to his words, as if she knew he was there, and just continued to enjoy the music. She never failed to impress him.

“Well, killing all your targets actually counts for something. I’m spending my hard earned money on some fine art.” She smiled after a moment. Jungkook came to stand next to her instead. He took a swig from his drink, the two of them still not making eye contact. “You know it’s not polite to brag.” 

She finally turns to him to show off her expensive outfit. “Does this dress scream humble to you?” 

“No, but it does scream desperate.” He took her in, using it as an excuse to check her out. That cat suit didn’t do her legs justice in his opinion, but this ensemble has his approval. 

“For what?” She demanded, cocking her head to the side. 

“You tell me—” 

“You’re full of shit, Jeon.” The assassin sneered and quickly turned to walk away. Jungkook catches her by the bicep at the last second, attempting to make it look playful and desperately trying to avoid any unwanted attention.

“Wait.” He smoothly but firmly pulled her back to him, guiding her left hand to his shoulder and holding onto her right one before leading her in a slow dance towards the dance floor. He told himself he needed a more discreet position to confide his intentions in her ear again. 

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close

Sway me more

“I have a proposition for you.” 

She glances up at him, sporting narrowed and curious eyes. “Oh? This should be good. Last time you saw me, you threatened to hammer my limbs in.” She swiftly stomped on his foot, with a tight-lipped, spiteful smile. 

He groaned and gathered himself with closed eyes before getting down to business. “Drop the attitude Y/L/N.” Jungkook grumbled, causing the assassin to freeze, but he made sure to keep them moving. She switches from her normal playful demeanor to a more formidable version of herself and he is almost alarmed by the switch. She leans closer to him to reach his ear and drops her voice to a grave whisper.

“How did you know my last—” 

Jungkook doesn’t back down from her close, menacing form and goes as far as to tease her with a satisfied smirk. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re not the only computer genius in this room okay?”

She only glares off into the distance, clenching her jaw. 

“What?” Jungkook revels in the feeling of having the upper hand on her. “My men may not be able to catch you in action, but they do know their way around a file cabinet.” He shares proudly, biting his lip with joy.

Realizing the leverage he had over her, Y/N made the decision to hear him out. “What the fuck do you want?” She spat before Jungkook spun her and dipped her quickly. And though she was angry, she moved with grace and he couldn’t help, but admire her beauty. 

Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me, sway with ease

“You.” He smirks, already missing her playful personality and hoping to bring it back out. He smiles wider when he succeeds.

She finally cracks a smile and throws her head back, unable to stop herself from laughing. “That’s funny, I thought you wouldn’t fuck me if I were the last woman on earth.” She threw his line back at him effortlessly.

The mob boss hesitates for a split second. “Okay, your memory is impeccable, I get it, but I’m talking about your services.” 

Y/N blinks in bewilderment before forming the words she never thought she would. “You want me to work for you?” He nods evenly.

“I’ve already killed five targets for you, Jeon. What more could you want?” She sputtered, not being able to fathom the request. Jungkook only releases her hand, keeping the other wrapped around her waist and nods to the empty balcony of the ballroom before leading her through it’s floor length glass doors. 

“Trust me, I’m well aware. It was insanely fucking annoying,” He said earnestly, making the assassin giggle. His heart seemed to lurch at the sound, but he ignored the pleasant pang in his chest to continue his proposal. “Until I noticed how well you clean up after yourself. Leaving almost no trace of your involvement at the crime scene.” 

He released Y/N’s waist carefully close to the door of the balcony, peering into the room to see who might be looking at them. They seemed to have a bit of privacy as of right now.

Y/N tilted her head and raised her eyebrows sincerely. “Are you really shocked that the neanderthals you hired aren’t too keen on cleaning up after themselves?” 

 “I’m trying to compliment you.” He sighed looking up.

 “You’re doing a pretty shit job.” She mumbled. He ignores her complaints and carries on. He tucks his hands into his pants pockets and walks towards her.

“My men haven’t been as stealthy as possible as of late and there’s talk that we may have caught the attention of the authorities.” 

“Again, are you surprised?” She overannunicated sassily with her arms crossed.

He marched up to her, towering over her small frame intimidatingly. “Don’t push it, Deathstalker.” He sneered at her. Her snark was beginning to piss him off. Why was he always so hot and cold with her?

“Or what?” She said seductively, suddenly snaking her arm around his torso and pressing herself against him. She gazed up at him, with flirtatious eyes

Jungkook bit the inside of his cheek, gazing back down at the woman coolly. He considers feeding into her words and actions for a second, but figures it’s probably just one of her games so he tosses the idea. “I’m trying to make you an offer here.” He insisted. The mercenary sucks her teeth, lets go and turns to walk away. “Ugh you’re no fun...You couldn’t handle me anyway.”

The one time he tried to be professional. He pulls her back by the arm, forcefully pressing her into the stone wall next to the door of the balcony. He presses himself against her firmly while gripping her small waist with one hand and her chin with the other. 

"Fine,” He challenged. “Is this what you want? You want me to fuck you right here, up against this wall, like a little slut?" He spoke in a low voice so as not to concern the guests inside and the rumble of Jungkook’s voice in his chest made Y/N’s body start to heat up.  

His offer brings a genuine, delighted smile to her face. She tosses the idea around in her head while making heated eye contact with Jungkook. But that would never work, she thought bitterly. Her date would come looking for her soon. Not a good look when you're trying to bag a guy and rob him for his millions. So she decided to tease him instead, It was the perfect opportunity with him being all riled up like this. 

"I knew you liked me…” She let her sultry yet snide words linger, toying with the fabric of his collar. “But that would be unprofessional, Mr. Jeon...seeing as you are now my boss." she uttered softly, still keeping her seductive gaze. Jungkook briefly wonders if she could feel his dick twitch when she said his name like that before refocusing on the situation.

When we dance you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me

He took the sudden change of pace and her choice of words as her officially accepting his offer and released his hold on her with a grimace. She walks by him, smoothing down her dress with an unfazed expression and heads to the railing to take in the view, as if she wasn’t just assaulted by one of the most important men in the country. 

“So you’ll do it?” 

She kept her back to him, letting her heavy voice travel over her shoulder casually. “How much will you give me?” 

He joins her side, resting his hands on the railing. “Eight hundred, thousand.” 

She whips her head in his direction, an obviously offended expression on her face. “Do I look like one of your minions?” Y/N inquired. 

“It would be your first job with me, you gotta start somewhere.” He made a gesture with his hand, trying to reason with her.

“I started years ago and I’m good at my job. The best actually…I want a million.” She decided with a hand on her waist. 

Jungkook blinked repeatedly, taken aback. “You want me to give you a million dollars?”

“Yes, or no deal.” She answered quickly before he could even finish the question. The mafioso took a step back and laughed silently in disbelief. 

“You’re infuriating, you know tha—” 

“And you make me wanna vomit.” 

“You’re projecting.” 

“Oh, suck a dick Jeon!” She began marching towards the glass doors into the ballroom before Jungkook caught her by the arm and brought her back to him swiftly. 

“Fine, it’s yours.” He muttered, glaring down at her with frustrated eyes. 

The woman simply winked playfully at him and caressed his face. “I knew you’d come around.” She beamed looking satisfied and walked away only to be yanked back to Jungkook’s chest yet again. This time she grumbled in slight annoyance. He made a note to let up on the pulling. 

“If you cross me, we will kill you.” He said seriously. She only smiled as if he’d made a joke. 

“Unless I beat you to that too.” His face turned angry and he opened his mouth to speak when they heard the glass door open and a voice call toY/N. 

“Oh, Ruby, there you are. Is this guy bothering you?” An older gentleman in a suit and a gold chain spoke in a scraggly voice. Jungkook recognized him as Walter Schillings, a white collar criminal who has been giving Jungkook’s men a hard time and definitely landed himself on their hitist. 

Thankfully, the scum has never actually seen the mafia leader before so they were able to avoid a tricky situation at this crowded event. Though Jungkook had men scattered throughout the building in case anything went down, he never travelled alone. But, wait. Why was he referring to Y/N as Ruby?

The mafia leader had no time to figure it out because he had to explain why he was gripping this innocent looking woman the way he was. He lets go immediately and addresses the man. “We were just having a convers—” 

“No,” Y/N sighs and saunters over to Walter, grabbing his huge hand and having it encompass her small one. 

What the fuck is this? Jungkook thought, his heart suddenly racing. He tried to hide his emotions behind a cold demeanor. 

“Just some loser trying to get my attention.” She glanced back at Jungkook arrogantly, allowing Walter to slide an arm around her waist and kiss the side of her forehead as they re-entered the ballroom. 

Jungkook ground his teeth together at the sight and nearly sprinted to Walter to tear his arm off when he saw his hand reach down and grip Y/N’s ass. It bothered him even more that she hadn’t reacted whatsoever. 

He turned away and braced himself on the railing again, attempting to calm himself. “I hope she slits your goddamn throat, motherfucker.” He grumbled to himself, seething with anger. 

Jungkook spent the next fifteen minutes pouting on the balcony, gripping the railing in anger with a bothersome boner while the rich and famous boozed it up inside. Surprisingly no one had come out to bother him, giving him enough to time think about what he just saw. 

He didn’t know why the sight of Y/N with Walter infuriated him so, but he knew he never wanted to see it again. He wondered how she could flirt with him so heavily and then disregard him completely at the drop of a hat. He just wanted to make her eat her petty words, drive her as crazy as she seemed to be driving him. 

It didn’t help that he had been having fantasies of her for the past few weeks in that catsuit just letting him have his way with her. And here she comes, looking like sex on legs and clouding his judgement after disappearing for three weeks. Just who does she think she is? Jungkook sighed frustratedly at the pitiful turn his night had taken. 

He wished he had a distraction from his thoughts. He wished he could leave this vexatious place, but something was keeping him here and he had a feeling that, that something was a menace in a dress and liked to play mind games. 

Okay, so, the boner that won’t seem to go away may also be responsible for keeping him isolated on this balcony, but he had every intention of taking care of it. He just had to convince Y/N.

He quickly tucked his boner into his waistband and walked back into the ballroom like he never left, eyes peeled for Y/N’s small form among the guests. He sees her enter the restroom from afar and doesn’t think before pursuing her. 

On any other day Jungkook wouldn’t dream of executing what was going on in his head, but Y/N was admittedly the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen and she caused him to think purely with his dick after their interaction today. 

He doesn’t know how he managed to skip into the women’s restroom without setting off any of the guests, but he considers it a victory when he’s in and locks the door without thinking about it. He turned to find Y/N touching up her make-up at the large mirror above the sinks. 

They make eye contact through the mirror, but they have yet to exchange words. Y/N narrows her eyes questioningly while Jungkook considers the silence and stillness in the room. So far so good. 

Jungkook’s shoes clicked on the tile floor as he took a few steps away from the door. “Where did your date go?” He questioned casually.

Y/N finally pauses touching up her face. “He also went to the bathroom, what are you doing in here?” She answers speedily, watching him intently through the mirror. “We made our deal.” 

“I came to see you…” The woman hums in understanding and starts on her lipstick again, seemingly uninterested. “You getting all dolled up for him?” Jungkook finishes.

“Essentially yes.” There is a pause before Jungkook just comes out with it. 

“So you gonna sleep with him tonight?” 

Deathstalker scoffed. “Of course not. I’m an assassin not a hooker.” 

Jungkook muffles a laugh at the inside joke amongst him and his men when his new ally finally starts to show some interest. “Why do you care anyway?” 

He walks up to her boldly, gripping her waist and pressing against her from behind causing her to put the make-up down and zero in on his face. She continued to watch his eyes when he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“I just wonder what he would say if I messed up this pretty little face.” He brings his hand up to gently grip her chin, unlike how he did earlier. She smiles slightly, making no attempt to free herself from his grasp. If anything she leans more into his touch.

“Mr. Jeon.” She drawled. “Are you still threatening me?” She bats her eyelashes coyly, knowing exactly what was going on. Jungkook has no idea why that innocent look and the words ‘Mr. Jeon’ falling from her mouth made him hard, but he continually needed more of it. He shuddered lightly at the name and her sweet, sweet voice, barely managing to keep his cool.

“Not in the painful way...unless you like that.” He rasped, brushing her lip with his thumb tenderly. She held back a moan and Jungkook took that as an invitation to take it a step further. 

“Do you want me?” He breathed deeply in her ear, sending chills down her spine.

She licked her lips and smiled her signature seductive smile. Jungkook was no match for both her smile and her beautiful doe-eyes. “Oh, Mr. Jeon, you know my pride won’t let me answer that.” 

“Cut the games Y/L/N. I’ve had enough of your shit today. Do you want me?” He repeats. He fully pressed his body into hers allowing her to feel the need that he had been accumulating out on the balcony, his breathing getting heavier. She returned the gesture, pushing back against him discreetly. 

“I thought we agreed that you would just be my boss.” She said with wide, naive eyes, though Jungkook knew better. 

“Well, then, as your boss I hope you would do as I ask and let me fuck you on this sink.” He let his fingers travel from her chin to her throat and let them wrap around her neck ever so gently, giving her just a taste of what was to come. He felt her swallow thickly and watched the innocent look in her eyes turn to primal lust. “So? You wanna see if I can handle you or not?” He whispered, touching his lips to her ear.

She shivered at the touch and quickly turned around to face him. Jungkook leaned in and they were nose to nose. She wrapped her arms around his neck, but their lips barely brushed when she backed away suddenly. He looked into her stern eyes confusedly. “This means nothing.” She said, making sure they were both on the same page. “I’m aware.” he responded before they both pounced at each other, teeth clacking and tongues swirling.

Y/N moaned in delight when Jungkook gripped the back of her thighs and sat her on the granite sink counter with a quickness. He forced her skirt up to her hips roughly so he could properly grind his crotch against her and she seemed to enjoy the rough handling. He made a note of that. 

His hands were everywhere on her, massaging her breasts, squeezing her hips and ass, eager to finally be living his most recent fantasies. Y/N revelled in the attention with a smile on her face, hands playing freely in his silky hair whilst he kissed along her neck. 

He quickly reached down between Y/N’s legs to find that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. He leans back and their heated gazes meet. “You dirty little slut.” He noted, gruffly. “You like it.” She confidently reassured him. “You’re damn right, I like it.” He mumbled as he attached his lips firmly to hers and applied pressure, rubbing her swollen clit with his fingers. “...Mmm, God, you’re so wet.”

The assassin’s body jerked several times and she moaned into his mouth, grinding further into his touch. She separated from him when she couldn’t take anymore and stared deeply into his eyes. “Please,” she pauses to catch her breath. “Please fuck me, Mr. Jeon.” 

Jungkook unzipped his pants before she could even finish her sentence, preparing a condom that he is thanking God he brought with him today. “I like when you say my name like that.” He whispered against her ear.

“I know, your dick told me. Now, hurry before someone breaks the door down.” Jungkook then slides into her easily. Y/N sighs in ecstasy while Jungkook is stunned into silence at the way she gripped his dick. He starts to move almost immediately, holding her in place as he snaps his hips into her, their lips sloppily tangled all the while. The sound of their moans began to bounce off of the tile walls of the bathroom, both of them throwing any cares they had for being discreet out the window.

Jungkook grunted with excitement and pleasure at the sight in front of him. He was watching her moaning form closely, memorizing every detail of her incase he never got this chance again.

“Fuck yes. Your dick feels so fucking good inside me.” She panted, focused on his wide, intense eyes. “Just keep fucking me like that, Mr. Jeon.” He released a satisfied growl at the name.  

Even though he had only met her weeks ago, Jungkook never would have guessed that Y/N would be the type to beg for anything. But here she was under him, at his mercy just like in his dreams, begging for him. It occurred to him that the Deathstalker he met would never admit to or do any of this, but Y/N seemed to be living for it. The idea excited him so much that he didn’t know up from down and didn’t bother to control any nonsense that spewed from his mouth in response to her. 

“You look like a dirty little slut under me right now. Letting me fuck you in the bathroom while your date’s probably outside waiting or you.” He whispered harshly in her ear, never letting up as he continues to thrust in and out of her swiftly. 

Y/N threw her head back and moaned, feeling nothing but turned on by his comments. “Oh, fuck yes..” She murmured, letting herself be carried away with pleasure. 

“Not wearing any panties for him, letting him touch all over you, ugh...but I’m the one who gets to have this sweet pussy by the end of the night.” He breathed heavily, not taking his eyes off of Y/N’s face that was contorted in pure bliss. “Flirting with both of us all night long, making us want you. You’re such a bad girl.”

“I am, I’m a bad girl.” She whimpered hurriedly. “I need to be punished, Mr. Jeon.” She finished, her words not completely registering in her drunken state, but they resonated with Jungkook all too well. He forced himself to slow his thrusts considerably and focus on his breathing much to Y/N’s dismay.

She leans back into him and rests her forehead on his, running her fingers through his hair and grinding on him desperately. “No, no, no, no, no, no. Why did you stop?” Her low, lusty voice implored. 

Jungkook chuckles lightly. “You’re gonna make me cum sweetheart.” She pulled his hips into her helping him find a new rhythm. “Then by all means, do, Mr. Jeon. I want you to cum inside me.” She purred before kissing him softly. 

That set something off in him causing him to pound into her once more. Y/N was thrown back by the force, unable to hold her upper body up any longer. She rested her elbows on the counter and tilted her head all the way back while Jungkook thrusted away into her. 

He saw her face in the mirror and appreciated that he got the watch the pleasure they were experiencing together until he noticed her eyes were closed. 

He realised he didn’t wanna cum this way. He pulled out of her, ignoring her cries of disapproval, turned her around and roughly bent her over the counter. 

“Oh, baby, you gotta see this.” He rasped before sliding into her again and instantly started fucking into her wildly. Y/N yelped before biting her knuckle in order to keep quiet. “Oh my god, yes, fuck me!”

Jungkook grabbed her ponytail and dragged her up off the counter and into his chest so that he could whisper in her ear. She winced, but let him wrap her hair around his fist and pull harder, the back of her head totally resting on his shoulder. 

She could see him behind her, relentlessly hammering into her greedy body in all his glory. Maybe she misjudged him. The sight turned her on even more, sending another rush of wetness between her thighs. 

“You’d better keep it down princess. Wouldn’t want your date to think his girl was in here getting railed like a slut. Oh, wait.” Y/N wanted to laugh, but Jungkook released her hip to wrap his large hand around the base of her neck and firmly squeezed. 

Her eyes immediately rolled back at the gesture, but she made sure to refocus on the mirror as Jungkook was watching closely. The pressure was building in her core more and more. She was gonna fall over the edge any second now, she was so close.

“Oh m-ffffuck, yes! You’re gonna make me cum, Mr. Jeon.” She whined through clenched teeth, looking into his piercing eyes through the mirror. 

“Then fucking cum for me.” His deep voice grated in her ear. 

“Harder! Choke me harder!” Y/N pleaded as her orgasm crashed right into her. He squeezed tighter at just the right time and with just the right pressure that had Y/N seeing stars and prolonging her high. Jungkook held off his own orgasm, trying not to think about her velvety walls pulsating around him, so that he could watch Y/N fully enjoy hers. And boy was it something to watch. 

Her jaw dropped and stilled as her eyes rolled into her head, but it was the most beautiful thing Jungkook had ever seen. Her body was frozen in a perfect arch as he thrusted away into her and her hand firmly cradled his head so that their cheeks were pressed together. He would hold out for as long as he could as she rode her high completely if only to watch her like this for a little longer.

Eventually she tapped Jungkook's hand causing him to let go of her neck and she collapsed onto the counter breathlessly. “Holy fuck.” She gasped as she braced herself on the granite surface. 

She coughed a bit and caught her breath and then looked up at Jungkook with fucked out, voracious eyes. He never took his eyes off of her and never stopped pumping his dick into her delicious cunt. 

“You gonna cum for your little cock slut, Mr. Jeon?” Y/N croaked, throat sore from being choked. But every word sounded like music to Jungkook’s ears. That look on her face made him wanna blow his load on the spot. “Yeah, baby.” Is all he can offer as his hips break their rhythm without his permission.

“Please, cum inside me.” She moaned out as Jungkook emptied himself into the condom, hips sputtering near the end until they stopped with his dick still deep inside of her. He was in his own head, lost in a post-coital stupor, thinking about how that may have been the best orgasm he’s ever had when Y/N spoke up.

“You can get out of me now.” She said flatly, thrusting Jungkook back into the real world. He murmured an apology and withdrew himself from her, watching her walk casually into one of the stalls without a word or a look in his direction. 

He just stood there with his cock out wondering what the hell just happened. He thought they made a connection. He agreed that it wouldn’t mean anything, but was she really that cold hearted to just ignore him after a passionate experience like that? Well, she is a mercenary, his conscience defended, they’re not meant to be caring. 

As he heard the stall start to open up he quickly turned around, discarded the condom and tucked himself back into his pants. He then watched as she came back out looking more put together than before. 

She washed her hands and began to touch up her appearance again. This time she actually needed it. The foundation on her neck was rubbed off by his fingers, revealing the tattoos that Jungkook missed,  her lipstick was smeared and her high ponytail drooped due to the pulling. Awkward silence took over the spacious restroom. Is she really not going to say anything?

He decided to just come out with it. “What was that?” 

“What are you talking about?” She requested, haphazardly while fixing her hair in the mirror.

“Well, you were just all over me and now you’re acting like I don’t exist.” He said plainly.

“It’s called sex, you don’t fuck like a virgin so I assume you know what I’m talking about. Besides, I’m not acting like anything.” Jungkook had a hard time believing that. He knew what deflecting looked like, had seen it in many interrogations. 

“Then why won't you look at me?” He challenged.

Her eyes widened in annoyance as she reached around to place another bobby pin in her hair. “I’m kinda busy here, Jeon.” 

He couldn’t help, but feel bothered that she dropped the sassy formality of calling him Mr., an indication that she was enjoying his company. “Look, will you just talk to me for a sec—”

She suddenly stops what she’s doing. Her breathing is long and deep before she calms down and begins speaking smoothly with her eyes closed. “Look, Jeon. We don’t know each other and I don't know what you think you know about me or what you made up in your head, but you might as well forget all of that ‘cause it’s not real.” She sighed, continuing to recover her foundation.

“That wasn’t real?” He finally commanded. He hated to admit it, but he was slightly bothered when she didn’t even offer him a glance. “That?” She responded, only interested in her reflection.

“That,” He clarified, gesturing to the counter sternly. “What we just did, what we...said.” He gulped nervously. This wasn’t like him, he didn’t get nervous or have passionate sex with strangers and let it effect him. This is only his second time meeting this woman and he let her get in his head. He’s been asking himself the same question since meeting her in the alley: what makes her so different?

She put down her foundation and just stared at it blankly. “And what part of what we said are you confused about, pray tell.”

“Um, ‘I need to be punished, Mr. Jeon.’” He quoted promptly. 

Honestly the only thing he was confused about was why she was suddenly being so cold to him. All of the words they shared were noteworthy and he wanted her to acknowledge that. The whole experience still shocked Jungkook and he never dreamed it would actually happen. He just brought up a snippet that he thought might get her attention and maybe evoke some emotion finally. He chose wisely.

Her head whipped in his direction. “And you liked it, didn’t you?” She sneered. “Or perhaps we could talk about how you like to call women, sluts, hm?” 

“I thought you liked it,” He tried to get in, but she wasn’t having it.

Jungkook thought her angry face looked nothing like it did five minutes ago or even out on the balcony. She suddenly let out a bitter laugh and Jungkook realized that this woman probably wears many faces. Perhaps to defend herself. Perhaps to survive. Maybe he misjudged her. 

“You know, I didn’t take you for a person who throws things that people say during sex back in their face.” She accused, sporting a dark smile.

“Well, I’m sorry, but I didn’t take you for a...a—”

“A submissive?” She shot, putting an end to his stuttering. He deflated, all signs of anger or disapproval gone from his stance. “Yes.” He copped out, not knowing what else to say. “I just wasn’t expecting that.” 

Y/N visibly calmed down as well, turning back to the mirror and continuing her work. “Are you surprised?” She muttered, raising her eyebrows. 

Jungkook thought for a second before responding, evenly: “No.” Thinking about how much Y/N might have gone through to be so successful as a trained killer, she must have had to be the strongest and smartest person in the room on any given day. There had to be a time where she wanted to take a break, not be the person in charge for once. Jungkook could relate. 

His response made her pause, but she only cleared her throat and continued applying foundation in silence. I can’t leave things like this, Jungkook decided. He just got an actual glimpse into her personality and not the same act she puts on for the rest of the world. He found out that they might even have some things in common. He didn’t want her to shut him out now. It may have been a moment of weakness for both of them, but he wanted to continue this.

“I could, you know, help...punish you, i-if you want.” He spluttered with his hands in his pockets, trying to make himself look as confident as possible since his voice had already betrayed him. 

Y/N stills and turns to him with a confounded expression, but didn’t say anything.

“I mean, unless you already have a…” Jungkook left out the last word for her to hopefully pick up on, suddenly shy about the world of BDSM. 

“No, I don’t.” She rushed out, looking down at the counter and creating an awkward silence between them. “I’ll think about it.” She added genuinely. She looked at him over her shoulder and offered a gentle nod, her expression completely blank. 

Jungkook nods back in acknowledgement. “Okay, then.”

“Now get out of here, I’m sure there are ladies that need this restroom.” She pulled on her signature playful smirk, nearly giving Jungkook whiplash. Many faces indeed.

“Yeah, okay.” He gathered himself and walked towards the door, but turned back when he realized something. “Wait, how do I contact you for the job?”

“I’ll call you, now go.” She said packing up her stuff. 

Jungkook nodded, unlocked the door and quickly darted out of the bathroom. As he sped by he saw Walter down the hall posted in front of the men’s room patiently waiting for his date. Thankfully his head was turned when Jungkook made his way out of there and to the exit. He smirked wickedly, knowing he got away with his ridiculous plan. “Dumbass.”

Two weeks had gone by since the bathroom incident and Jungkook worked tirelessly to distract himself from thoughts of the beautiful assassin to no avail. He realized there was no escaping her. He thought their rendezvous at the auction would help get her out of his system, but it only fueled his addiction for her and now he was trapped in a vicious cycle that he didn’t know if he wanted out of. 

They kept in contact and Deathstalker killed the enemies on Jungkook’s hit list, but this time she was being paid by the mafioso himself unbeknownst to his men. They found themselves in situations much like the first time they ran into Deathstalker more often than not. Only now she had to be more creative as Jungkook’s foot soldiers still thought she was a possible threat.

As Jungkook sat across from Collin Boardly, a corrupt CEO/gang leader, he wondered if this would be one of those situations. Boardly is a fellow criminal that Jungkook was on good terms with until he heard that Boardly’s men have been attacking and blackmailing store owners in his territory. Jungkook insisted that he pay those victims back and restore all damages. He even invited Mr. Boardly to a very private game of poker so that they could properly discuss matters. 

They sat in the dimly lit restaurant owned by one of Jungkook’s close friends with their respective security surrounding them. Boardly felt obligated to bring his men as he offended Jungkook and now he was on his turf. Jungkook’s men insisted on backing him up, but he had a strong feeling that none of that would be necessary. 

They had already made small talk while getting the game started and Jungkook got straight to business. 

“So, I hear you’ve been terrorizing my streets. What’s the story there?” Jungkook inquired calmly. Boardly huffed a nervous laugh at the mention of what his men did. “Personally I think terrorizing might be too strong a word.”

Jungkook’s brows raised and his expression turned serious. “Well, what would you call threatening multiple lives at gunpoint, roughin’ ‘em up and demanding cuts of their earnings then? Business?” He denounced. 

“As usual.” Boardly finished the adage with a large smile. Jungkook only looked at him with the same no nonsense expression and Boardly seemed to regret making the remark.

“Just a joke, Jungkook.” He muttered. “I am sorry that I allowed my guys to do that.” He doubled down. “We simply didn’t know how far your territory reached. We meant no disrespect.”

“I appreciate that.” Jungkook replied, anger stirring inside him as he fought not to rip this man’s head from his shoulders.They continued to play in near silence until Jungkook finally pressed him for answers. 

“So how do you intend to fix what your guys broke?”

Boardly looked up with a lost expression on his face. “Excuse me?” He grumbled.

“There was damage done to these stores, yes?” Jungkook assessed slowly. “And you’ve already collected cuts from some of the owners…” He can see Boardly’s eyes widen slightly in recognition. 

“Oh, you didn’t know I knew that.” The mob boss gathered. “Anyway, I assume you’re ready to pay for that. I was thinking fifty, thousand dollars would cover it.” He suggested calmly. 

Boardly tried to give an excuse, stuttering. “I’m-I don't think you understand—”

“I understood you can afford it, judging by those chips.” Jungkook chided, gesturing to the large bet Boardly made in the center of the poker table. Boardly sighed at a loss. 

“Kook, listen.” The CEO leaned forward, trying to reason with his opponent. “We’re friends. It was an accident, can’t we just forget this happened?”

“No.” Jungkook responded instantly, his arms crossed. “We were...associates, but now you’re just someone who fucked with my community. So are you gonna pay it back or not?” He seethed furiously.

Boardly swallowed and stared at Jungkook for a few moments, wondering how else to bargain with him. He had too much pride to go through with this deal, especially in front of his inferiors.

“No.” He finally answered.

Jungkook sighed disappointedly. The air in the room turned ominous and it was felt by all. Normally, Jungkook would be killing Boardly by now and he could feel all of his men tense behind him, ready to kill if need be, but he was doing things differently today. He just nodded understandingly, before gesturing with his left hand to get Taehyung’s attention.

“Taehyung. Will you get me a glass of water from the kitchen please?” He asked politely without looking at him. He hears his right hand man head to the kitchen and he turns back to the piece of shit in front of him.

“Why, Collin? Is there something wrong with doing right by those you fucked over?” Jungkook questioned, heatedly.

“No, Kook—”

“Don’t call me that.”

Boardly scoffed and continued. “I just don’t think we did anything wrong. We overstepped, we apologized, I think that should be enough.”

“Well, I don’t. So where does that leave us?”

“I’m not paying for shit.” The CEO shrugged. That really pissed Jungkook off. 

“Go to hell, Boardly.” He growled. I’m really gonna enjoy watching you bite it, Jungkook thought sinisterly. 

Taehyung placed the glass of water in front of his boss and made the decision to continue to stand at his side, ready if anything were to happen. 

“Fine.” Boardly responded bitterly. “So are we done here? Or are you gonna give me a hard time?” He asked, nodding at Taehyung for emphasis. Jungkook shook his head nonchalantly. “No, no. We’re done.” with a haunting smirk on his face. The look put Boardly slightly on edge, but he ignored it and stood up to corral his men. 

Jungkook watched him make his way to the door wondering what the fuck was taking so long? He already gave the signal. He started to reach for his own gun to do it himself when he noticed Boardly stop in his tracks and could hear him choking. 

Even Jungkook and his men wore looks of concern. The mafia leader got up to get a better view from where he stood and the others craned their necks behind him still ready to shoot first and ask questions later. 

Boardly’s men tried to help him as he clutched his throat, but it was no use as he convulsed and fell to the floor before ceasing to move altogether. They looked at each other for answers before turning to Jungkook. 

One of the guys who was wearing a blue suit, which Jungkook assumed to be Boardly’s right hand, pulled out a gun and walked towards him. Taehyung and Jungkook pulled theirs as well, causing everyone with a gun to point them at either side. 

“You do this?!” Boardly’s guy raged. “How?” Jungkook argued. “How would I do that to him? He probably had a heart attack or forgot to breathe or some shit.” He surmised, trying to place the blame elsewhere. 

“Bullshit! What did you do?” He demanded.

“Look, I’m sorry for your loss or whatever, but we had nothing to do with this. Now you all gotta do something with him.” He pointed his gun at the dead body briefly. Blue suit breathes heavily with a stumped expression, not wanting to let it go. No one in the room showing any signs of letting up either.

“How about we all put the guns down and you guys can take him home-or wherever. Yeah? Does that work?” Jungkook prompted gently. After a beat, blue suit nodded, looked back at the rest of Boardly’s men and nodded. Jungkook did the same and slowly, but surely the guns came down and were put away. 

Jungkook and his men watched as they dragged the body out of the restaurant and sped away from the large storefront windows. They’re finally able to breathe without stress. “What the fuck was that?” Namjoon blurted causing the rest of them to chuckle. 

“I don’t know, but I’m getting the fuck outta here before they come back. See you guys back at base.” They laughed and said their goodbyes. Jungkook walked in the light rain to the next block over and found his town car ready and waiting for him. 

He opened the passenger door, addressed his driver, then retrieved a large black duffle bag before opening the backdoor. There he found Deathstalker sitting cross legged in a black trench coat at the other window seat. He smiled fondly at her. She looked beautiful as always gazing out the window at the rain before she noticed him there. When she turned to face him he replaced the fond smile with a composed smirk. 

“Took you long enough.” She opined quietly once he sat down and closed the door. “We got held up, literally. I think this belongs to you.” He passed the duffle bag off to her. She received her present graciously, beaming down at the contents happily once she opened it. 

“Thank you Mr. Jeon.” Y/N crooned playfully, sporting that signature smirk that never failed to affect Jungkook. “No, thank you.” He responded after clearing his throat. “So you poisoned him?” 

She simply replied, “Yup.” while inspecting the cash that filled the duffle bag in her lap. 

“But he randomly started choking and shaking. And you say you controlled it with the push of a button?” He wondered with furrowed brows and pouted lips. 

“Well, poison, a small nanobot that I planted in his food to attack his lungs and cause internal bleeding, it’s all the same, you know.” She spoke aimlessly, moving on from the money to buff and inspect her manicure.  

“Wow.” Jungkook whispered, genuinely infatuated with the thought of that kind of technology and how he could get his hands on it. While he was lost in thought he didn’t notice Y/N scooching closer to him until they were side by side. He turned to find their noses were nearly touching and his heart rate sped up rapidly.  

“Now that, that’s over…” she drawled, grasping Jungkook’s hand. He watched unquestionably as she brought his hand to her mouth and inserted his middle and ring fingers all while looking into his eyes alluringly. At the same time, she easily brought her leg up to drape over both of Jungkook’s. He still sat frozen in place by her gaze while she lifted the bottom of her coat and placed his hand against her bare heat.

They both shuddered slightly when Jungkook instinctively began to rub circles into her already wet core, never taking their eyes off each other. 

“You wanna go somewhere?” She coaxed breathily. It almost infuriated Jungkook how she didn’t even have to try to get him to agree to anything. He was indeed trapped. 

“James,” He called up to the driver. “The Plaza Hotel please.” 

Currently, Jungkook was going through paperwork in his office, taking advantage of the slow week he’s had to take care of some business for his company. It’s been a while since he’s gotten to do this so he was pretty backed up and seemingly had a whole afternoon of this to look forward to. He sighed at the thought, but continued to read through the documents and sign them here and there when suddenly he felt something was...off. He put his pen down and looked around the room.

The room was silent as usual, but all of a sudden it was too silent? Jungkook didn’t know how and he couldn’t really make sense of it until he looked up at the ceiling vent. It was no longer producing the usual soft hum. There was nothing. He silently walked under the vent to inspect it when he saw a glint in between the slats. Immediately, he moved from under it and drew his gun, aiming it at the vent. 

“I see you motherfucker! Come out right now or I’ll put ten holes in you!” He shouted. The intruder heeded the warning and right away the vent was forced to the floor. Jungkook watched intently as two feminine hands holding a gun slowly dropped down and though it was upside down, it was perfectly aimed at him. 

He still had his gun trained on the vent as the trespasser entered through the hole in the ceiling to reveal the familiar face of Deathstalker herself. Only her upper body could be seen as her strong legs held her in place from inside the vent.

She smiled easily at Jungkook as if they weren’t in a stand-off right now. “Hello, Mr. Jeon.” Her tone was calm, but somewhat guarded, telling him what her face never would. Jungkook was stuck between being relieved to see that it was only Deathstalker and being concerned that she was pointing a gun at him. 

“Hello, Deathstalker. You wanna tell me why you broke into my office and have a gun in my face?” He queried with a tilt of his head. Y/N only reached up to grip the hole in the ceiling, somehow removing herself from the vent with one hand, her gun and her gaze still trained on Jungkook as she landed on her feet in front of him. More contradicting thoughts swirled in his mind at the sight.  

“You finally caught me. I’m proud.” She smirked, removing the hood of her catsuit from her head.

He fights the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah, maybe you can congratulate me later. Why are you here? You finally turn on me? Did someone send you, huh?” 

“Don’t be so dramatic. You have something I need.” She explained with a determined look. Jungkook’s brows furrowed. “Is that so? And what might that be?” 

“You know what it is.” Y/N quipped, tilting her gun along with the inflection in her voice. He shakes his head assuredly. “No, No, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but if you wanna put the gun down I’d love to discuss it.” He entreated informally. 

“No.” She spoke firmly. A beat of silence passes before Jungkook has had enough. “Put the fucking gun down, Y/L/N.” He demanded gruffly. 

“You put the fucking gun down.” She spat right back at him. 

“I’m not doing this, just tell me what it is—” He reasoned.

“You know what it is—” Before she can fully respond, Jungkook rushed her, forcing her gun away from him and ripping it out of her hand. He quickly backed up and flung the gun across the room before pointing his back at her. They each caught their breath and Y/N bit her lip frustratedly. 

Jungkook gave a triumphant smile. “There, that’s better. You ready to talk now—”

Y/N’s leg swiftly came up to kick the gun right out of Jungkook's hand before he even realized what happened. He looked at the gun sliding away from them on the floor, then back at Deathstalker, who smirked and raised an arrogant brow.

“Okay.” Jungkook uttered right as Y/N charged at him. He panicked slightly at the thought of fighting her, but the instinct to fight back kicked in when she launched herself and wrapped her body around him like an anaconda. 

They struggled while Deathstalker tried to take Jungkook to the floor. Luckily for him, he wasn’t only a skilled shooter, but a trained and very skilled fighter as well. It wasn’t long before he freed himself from her vice grip and they were in a standoff once again, this time with their fist raised and ready to defend. 

“What the hell has gotten into you Y/L/N? I wish you would tell me what this is about.” Jungkook grumbled as they circled each other, waiting for the other to make a move.

Y/N chuckled mischievously. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

“Yes, actually!” He exploded. She took his emotional outburst as an opportunity and pounced once again. Jungkook was quicker to react this time and they were practically sparring in the middle of his office and only lord knows why. Jungkook found himself getting irritated because he was barely one step behind Deathstalker in her strikes and attacks. 

As they got more invested, Jungkook noticed that she didn’t intend on hurting him, but she did intend to win. Somewhere in the scuffle, he fell behind and let her right hook distract him from the leg that swept his feet from under him. She was on top of him in an instant, with a habitual flat hand at his jugular ready to stop him from breathing. They stare at each other, both of them breathing heavily. 

“Got you.” Y/N suddenly whispered smugly. “Now, are you gonna give me what I want?” She prompted provocatively, sliding her hand into the collar of his shirt slowly. The feel of her hot skin on his almost burned with their charged up bodies and wild emotions. He blinked in realization at her increasingly turned on form above him. 

“You. Crazy. Fucking. Bitch.” Jungkook fumed quietly, looking up at her in disapproval. She just giggled freely and though usually the sound would bring a smile to Jungkook’s face, it only pissed him off. 

He pushed her off of him and shoved her against the wall roughly, holding her there by the neck. “You’ve got some fucking nerve, breaking in here and waving a gun in my face.” He hissed in anger, their noses touching. “You know, if you wanted dick you could have just said so.” 

“Where’s the fun in that Mr. Jeon?” She crooned, leaning forward to kiss him and he denied her, coolly tilting his head back. He continued to hold her by the throat to the wall firmly, causing her to choke briefly, but if she was uncomfortable she didn’t let it show.

“No.” He shook his head, Y/N could see his gears turning as he did so. “No?” She echoed, curiously. 

“To answer your question. I’m not giving you what you want.” A devious smirk slowly appeared on his face that made Y/N’s body temperature rise. “No, you’re gonna do what I want now and you’re gonna like it.” He breathed, pressing himself against her and brushing her lips with his teasingly. She inhales audibly, trying not to look affected by his sudden behavior. 

“But, Mr. Jeon, I want what you want.” She encouraged him sweetly, reaching for him. He put a stop to that quickly by pinning her wrists above her with one hand and resuming his hold on her neck with the other. She grunted and squirmed before giving up, looking up a childish defeated expression, but Jungkook knew she loved it. 

He looked into her eyes with a strong dominance that had Y’N swallowing thickly in anticipation. “Are you talking back to me, Y/L/N?” His eyebrows furrowed intimidatingly. 

She bit her lip to suppress her giddy smile. She needed to play along and not mock Jungkook’s very real emotions. The dynamic has officially shifted and now Y/N’s main objective was to please him. “No, Mr. Jeon.” She assured in a register slightly higher than her natural voice. 

“Really, because you seem to have a lot to say for someone who’s at my mercy. I wonder if you’d still be as talkative with my dick in your mouth.” He growled hotly in her ear sending shivers down her spine.

She shuddered a hopeful response. “Can we find out, Mr. Jeon...please?” She implored when she felt him pull away. 

He looked her over, taking in her needy form. “Look at you, already begging for it.” He shook his head in amazement. “I should keep you here and see how long you can hold your breath for me before your face starts to change color.” He whispered while closing his hand tighter around her neck. Y/N hummed delightfully at the feeling, her eyes fluttering shut. 

“But you’d probably like that wouldn’t you?” He leaned back in, getting her attention. She opened her eyes and gave a pleasant smile. “You know that I do.” She choked out. He smiled back at her admirably before releasing most of the pressure on her throat. 

“No, I got something else planned for y—” He stopped abruptly, looking towards the door because he thought he heard the click of familiar shoes in the hall. His theory was proven correct when he heard them getting closer. He quickly looked to Y/N with wide eyes. 

“Get under the desk.” He ordered softly before they both scurry to the huge desk near the window. She easily fit herself under it on her knees facing out and Jungkook took the seat right in front of her. As soon as they were situated, there was a knock on his office door.

“Come in.” He called pretending to look over his files. Taehyung poked his head in with a concerned expression before he fully entered the room. “Hey boss. Everything okay here?” He questioned.

“Yes, fine. Why?”

“Nothing, we just thought we heard some...I don’t know, movement?” As Taehyung spoke, Jungkook could feel hands raking up his thighs and his eyes widened quickly. He tried to compose his expression, but he then felt the unbuttoning of his pants. 

No, no, no, no, he thought in a panic. He tries not to focus on just how Y/N got his zipper down as silently as she did and focuses on Taehyung’s lips as he talked. 

“Oh, no, yeah. That was just me. I was practicing...sh-shadow boxing.” He lied choppily as Y/N released his already hard dick from his pants. 

“In a suit?” Taehyung replied, confusedly. 

Jungkook jolted slightly and fought back a moan when the assassin took him in her warm, wet mouth. “Waauuuhh, yes. Yes, I was.” He cleared his throat to cover up more moans when she began to skillfully bob her head up and down on his length. 

“Oh, well okay.” Taehyung settled. “So if that’s all—” Jungkook attempted to see him off with no success. 

“Anyway, we got a lead on that Deathwalker chick.” He offered in a more chipper tone. Y/N paused her movements, intrigued by the information. What had they found out? Jungkook shamelessly rested his hand on the back of her head and pulled, encouraging her to keep going much to both of their disbelief. She obeys and continues the task eagerly, but careful not to have too much fun or she’ll risk getting caught. “Is that so?” the mob boss replied. 

“Yeah, it’s not much, but we assumed you wanted us to brief you on it as soon as possible.” His soldier nodded respectfully. 

“Ugh,” Jungkook moaned, half-way masking it as a noise of gratitude. “Thank you, Tae. I appreciate it. We’ll be sure to discuss thisssssss later.” He faltered. “Yes, sir.” Taehyung nodded again, making a face at Jungkook. 

“Hey, you okay boss?” He looked closer at his superior with genuine concern. “Never better Tae.” Jungkook forced out quickly. “Are you sure? Y—”

“Taehyung?” The gang leader addressed him firmly. “Yes?” 

“Get the fuck out of my office.” 

“Yes, sir.” Taehyung nodded, knowing when he was unwanted and without another word he was exiting the office. 

Jungkook pushed away from the desk immediately and grabbed a handful of Y/N’s hair as he stood both of them up. She only smiled at the manhandling and wiped the excess spit from her mouth. 

“You really want me to hurt you, don’t you?” He snarled at her. She fought back the strong urge to moan a yes and instead just stayed silent with a feigned guilty look on her face. “Take that off. Now. ” He commanded, gesturing to her catsuit. She shimmied it off of her arms and down her legs to reveal her naked body, leaving her heels on, all while Jungkook kept a tight grip on her hair. 

“How many do you think I should give you?” He asked, suddenly calmer than before. “How ever many you think is right sir.” She spoke in a small voice, but her innocent act didn’t fool him. He stared at her bare, unapologetically, beautiful body in wonderment before forcing her body to bend over his desk. 

He caressed her thighs and backside tenderly and then when she least expected it he delivered a delicious slap to it. Y/N yelped and then sighed with contentment. The wait was over, now the real fun could begin. 

“I told you.” Slap. “We weren't.” Slap. “Gonna do.” Slap. “What you wanted.” Slap. “To do.” Slap. “But you just don’t listen.” He accentuated his words with powerful smacks delivered to both of her cheeks and then rubbed at the tender flesh to soothe the sting. 

He ran his finger up her spine gently, making her shiver visibly. He smirked at his effect on her, bending his body over hers to whisper in her ear. “Tell me. Are you sorry?” He breathed heavily. 

“No, sir.” Y/N panted after a few moments. “I knew it…” He stands up straight, regarding her vulnerable yet durable body. 

“You disappoint me, Y/L/N.” He slaps her ass and massages again. Y/N hissed before replying. “I’ll do better sir.” she declared sincerely.

“You promise?” Jungkook lifts his hand and watches as Y/N braces for the impact, watched as her body tensed and her pussy clenched greedily around nothing in awe. He savored the moment, spanking her again.

She hummed graciously at the delicious pain she was receiving from him. “Yes, sir. I promise.”  

“But you’re not sorry.” He clarified. “No sir.” 

“Why?” His brows furrowed in curiosity, gearing up to spank her again. “Because I love sucking your cock sir.” Y/N whined. He stopped his movements, taken aback and released a soft laugh. “Is that so?” 

“Yes sir.” Slap. “Tell me more Y/L/N.” he requested as he moved his left hand to her cunt and kept the right one on her ass. 

She closed her eyes and smiled, envisioning herself doing the activity, even licking her lips at the luscious memory of it. “I love how heavy it feels on my tongue. How you force me down on it and it hits the back of my throat.” She mused longingly. Y/N stops speaking and her body tenses as he inserts his thumb into her. 

“Keep going Y/L/N.” Jungkook’s tone made it clear that he would stop if she didn’t keep talking so she continued. 

“I love how thick it is, oh fuck.” She moans, digging her nails into the wood of the desk as he rubs two fingers against her clit and picks up the pace. “What else Y/L/N?” He breathed.  

She gulped in a breath, the sudden pressure taking her breath away. “How you make me gag on it when I’ve been bad and— mmmm, how you coat the inside of my mouth with all your cum when you’re done with me...How you check to make sure I swallowed all of it.” She giggled that last bit breathlessly, grinding back on his hand. 

“You’re such a dirty girl Y/L/N.” He moves in and out of her quickly while rubbing her clit perfectly in sync, pulling lewd moans from her until he suddenly removes them, delivering another hard smack to her backside. “Ah, fuck.” She squealed.

“But you’re right, you need to do better. Now count with me.” He ordered sternly. 

To which she immediately responded, “Yes sir.” 

Y/N counts every hit Jungkook delivers to her extremely tender ass dutifully with her fingernails creating crescents in the mahogany wood below her. By the time they reach twenty, his hand is as red as a tomato and Y/N is quite literally dripping onto the floor in front of him. He watched as her slick dripped out of her cunt from in between her spread legs and onto the floor, creating a tiny puddle of her pleasure. 

Jungkook is incredibly turned on by the sight and doesn’t think twice before taking his hard cock and shoving right into the assassin without warning. He didn’t wait for her to adjust, not that she needed to as you could literally mop the floor with her arousal. He just continued to hammer into her with complete abandon. 

It felt as if Y/N had forgotten how to breathe and her head shot up from the desk at the abrupt intrusion. “Ohhhhh shhhhhhit.” She cursed choppily with Jungkook’s hips slapping against her, making her ass sting more, but she loved it. 

He reached up to push her head down against the desk forcefully and held it there as he fucked into her. “You love the pain don’t you my little cock slut?” He growled out.

“Yes, sir. I love it. Thank you, Mr. Jeon.” She babbled dazedly into the desk. 

He pulls out of her then, leaving her moving back in search of him and clenching around nothing. “Please put it back in, Mr. Jeon.” She whimpered, reaching back for him, but she didn’t dare sit up for fear that he might think she was disobeying him.

He smiles and sits down in his chair, grabbing the hands that searched for him and guiding them to it’s arm rests. “Why don’t you come sit down and do it yourself?” 

She moves right away and backs up onto him. Bracing herself on the armrests, she hovers above him still facing the desk, grabs his cock and engulfs it in her wetness. They both groan wildly when he is fully seated inside of her and she begins to move up and down.

“Just like that baby, keep bouncing on my cock.” He muttered huskily, placing his hands on her hips. Looking down, he finally noticed the mess Y/N’s juices made on his suit pants. He should have pulled them all the way down, but damn if that wasn’t one of the hottest things he’s ever seen. “Goddamn. Who made you this fucking wet baby?” He grunted, pulling her down on him with fervid force. 

“You did, Mr. Jeon.” Y/N breathed heavily with her eyes closed in ecstasy. She could feel her orgasm finally approaching and she was chasing it with every move she made.

“You gonna cum baby?” Jungkook’s voice rasped in her ear. Y/N mentally cursed, already knowing what was coming to her. “Yes, I’m so close, Mr. Jeon.” She whined, trying to plead her case. 

It was no use. He swiftly pushed her off of him roughly and forced her down against the table once more. “No, no, no, please, please.” She begged and squirmed.

He only bent down to her level, gripping her chin in his hand. “You should know by now not to fuck with me Y/L/N. Now you need to be punished.” He says whispering sadistically in her ear. “Come on now.”

Jungkook gripped her by her forearms, dragging her up from the table and keeping them in place behind her back like a criminal. He guided her to the expansive wall length bookshelf on the far left of his office. Y/N knew just where they were going and somehow it prompted more wetness to come cascading down her already damp and sticky legs. 

He finds the handle on the inside of one of the shelves and pulls on the hidden door to reveal his playroom. The ceiling was a deep red while the walls were painted black with several tools for causing pain hanging on them all around the room. Several large contraptions used for pleasure and pain were scattered along the sides. But Jungkook’s favorite part of the room was the alaska king size mattress against the back wall which had a mirror of the same size attached to the ceiling above it. He loved that he could see every facet of Y/N’s squirming body just by looking up. 

“Stand here.” He directs her after stopping under the pair of leather handcuffs that dangled from the ceiling. He lifted and secured both her arms before focusing on her wanton eyes. “You comfortable, sweetheart?” He asked, grasping her chin firmly in his hands. 

“Yes, sir.” She replied truthfully. “Good.” He pecked her lips and began removing her boot heels. This created more distance between her and the floor. She was now truly dangling from the ceiling, the balls of her feet barely touching the floor.

Jungkook marvelled at his work and how after a while Y/N struggled to hold her weight against the cuffs. He then undressed quickly and made his way back to her, placing his lips on hers in a rough and passionate kiss that left Y/N breathless and moaning. 

She feels a hand thread it’s fingers through her hair and massage her scalp before it’s yanking her back and gripping tightly. She opened her eyes to see Jungkook, lustful and giddy smiling back at her. His hand slipped out of her hair, down her neck, chest and around her torso as he slowly circled her body. 

“I wish I could touch every piece of you at once.” He expressed sofly once he was behind her. Y/N breathed heavily with anticipation as his large hands gluided up her raised arms, down her waist, over her hips and ghosted over her plump, raw ass making her hiss. He chuckled at the sound letting his hands wander to her front and administering feather light circles to her swollen clit. Y/N twitched causing her body to sway uncontrollably. Jungkook stilled her, but continued his teasing much to Y/N’s dismay. But she didn’t dare say anything about it, she knew better and she wanted to cum so she stayed silent. 

He comes back around to face her and really takes his time appreciating her body. He kisses her lips, along her neck and sucks on her nipples just enough to have her squirming with more want for him. Suddenly he presses down on each of her sensitive nipples with two fingers and she squeaks, painful electricity shooting through her. 

He looked her over keenly. “God you’re so fucking beautiful...and you’re all mine to play with.” He kisses her biting her lip. “Who do you belong to?” His fierce tone demanded an answer.

“You, Mr. Jeon.” Y/N avowed, increasingly turned on and desperate to cum. 

“Who else?” His hands moved haltingly towards her core, never breaking eye contact. Her eyes flashed knowingly at him. “No one. Only you, Mr. Jeon.” 

Jungkook smiled contentedly before it disappeared little by little. He knew the words weren’t true and that she only said them to please him, only said them when they were intimate. But he couldn’t help how much he yearned to hear it, how much he wanted her to truly be his. This room is where they both get what they want no matter what. 

Y/N gets someone to dominate her and take care of her needs and Jungkook gets to live out his fantasies of her truly belonging solely to him. But he knew she would never go for that and that he would continue to toture himself this way. 

He tucks the thought away as he suddenly plunges two fingers inside of her. “And who does this pussy belong to?” He growled.

Y/N immediately clenches around them and lets out a cracked moan. “You, sir! This pussy is all yours. Oh fuck, ugh!” She cried out. At least Jungkook can be sure of that, he thought as he began curling his fingers into her at lightning speed. He holds her hips in place as he goes to work and Y/N can’t even think about the pain in her arms anymore once she feels her orgasm approaching. 

She grunts fervently as the pressure in her core builds and builds until she can’t stand it. She gives no warning, just allowing the glorious, all-consuming feeling to ignite her insides without a single sound. The only noise to be heard in the room was the sloshing of Jungkook’s fingers moving rapidly inside of her and the slap of his palm against her wet mound. 

Jungkook was so enraptured by her eyes rolling back into her head that he didn’t notice the clear liquid escaping from her cunt, getting all over his hand and dripping onto the floor. He brought her drooping head up so he could kiss her eagerly as he removed his fingers and stroked her clit like a wild man, getting more of her juices all over him. 

She never told him to stop as she was struck silent by the amount of pleasure she just experienced, but he removed his hand and continued kissing her writhing body hungrily. She was out of breath as she twitched and mewled against him, audibly shuddering from time to time. 

“Holy fucking shit. You’re just full of surprises huh?” He praised her with her face in his hands. Her only reaction was to smile tiredly. Her body was absolutely spent and still experiencing aftershocks. 

“Now let’s see if we can make you do that again.” he says, lifting her legs to wrap around his waist, thankfully taking the weight off of her arms. 

She finally speaks in a disoriented voice with her eyes half closed. “Yes, please sir.” 

Jungkook pushes inside of her, her cunt was now extremely wet and extremely tight due to that first squirting orgasm and he could tell he wouldn’t last long. He began speedily fucking into her, his hips slapping against her bruised and aching ass over and over again. 

Y/N was in another realm of euphoria, this one being better than the last. She didn’t even know that was possible. Her head was tilted all the way back and her eyes were closed, but they were focused. She was too far gone to even remember her own name at this point. 

“Please…” She mumbled. “Please what?” Jungkook grunted, his vigorous hips never changing pace. 

“Please, please make me cum, Mr. Jeon.” She begged through gritted teeth. “I want it so bad. Please give me your cum.” 

“Oh fuck, baby.” He moaned, thrusting impossibly faster, both of them close to the edge. 

She felt herself growing slightly over stimulated, but she was so close, chasing that high that made her see stars. She was concentrated on the feeling of Jungkook’s dick pumping in and out of her and hitting just the right spot against her walls. Jungkook felt a force resisting him from inside of Y/N and before he could grasp it he was being pushed out along with Y/N’s cum. 

A full fledged scream escaped from her throat that was elongated by Jungkook who swiped at her clit wildly to prolong her orgasm. He watches her twitch and moan helplessly before sliding back in and picking up where he left off.

“No, p-please sir, I can’t.” She choked out, her chest heaving with exhaustion. 

He gripped her face roughly in his hand and brought it close to his. “No, you wanted this dick so you gonna take this dick.” He seethed. “That’s what you came here for right?” 

“Yes sir.” She cried. Jungkook thrusted up into her half a dozen more times before he came inside of her, ripping yet another orgasm from Y/N. She felt tears slide down her face at the sheer force of energy in her veins. She saw white behind her eyes and her body burned all over in the best of ways. 

“Argh!” Jungkook growled boisterously as he came, holding her hips rigidly against his as he came down. When he looked up he could see Y/N practically falling asleep against him, yet her body was shaking slightly. He pulled out of her and released her from her restraints.

“Let’s get you to bed, huh?” He grinned, holding her tight as he let her down because he didn’t expect her to be able to hold herself up. He was proven right as she immediately slumped over his shoulder once her arms were free. The mafia leader carried her to the bed and gently laid her on her back, taking a moment to clean both of them off before he laid down too. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” He whispered sweetly. Initially, the assassin didn’t realize he was speaking to her as she was quickly drifting off to sleep, but after a moment she assured him, “I’m fine Jungkook.”

[moralitas]

Fallen Angel: Destiel scene but Sonadow

Little collaboration between myself, @teamxdark​, and @nutkin​!

We all saw the destiel scene and went “okay but sonadow” and what started as a joke got a ficlet and some art.

I was told to @mintywhisker​ bc I think they inadvertently started this for us.

Sketch was by Nutkin, lineart/coloring by myself, and writing by teamxdark!

Shadow heaved a breath, his brain fuzzy from exertion. Warping the ARK back into orbit had been a herculean task, and he was already feeling his body pay the price. The universe around him blurred and swam in front of his eyes, with the stars disappearing into the endless void of space.

Space around him seemed so vast and Shadow felt so small. The Ultimate Lifeform felt like less than nothing in between a world, a colony, and the universe itself.

Yet Sonic was larger than life somehow.

The other hedgehog was still grasping at his hand, jubilant at their victory. Shadow could sense his joy, could see it in the bright pulses of light that seemed to come off of him in waves. In the middle of everything, Sonic shone stronger, glowed warmer, burned brighter than the sun. Shadow could feel his energy seeping far and wide, revitalizing him by a fraction, enough to focus his sight and his thoughts again.

Sonic was like life itself, condensed into one singular magnificent being.

Shadow knew now, more than ever, that he was a goner.

It didn’t make logical sense. He knew that. But almost nothing about this situation made logical sense. How did someone hold the power to Chaos Control with a fake emerald? How did someone manage to retain their super from after such a major effort, while Shadow, the Ultimate Lifeform, created to hold and manipulate Chaos Energy as part of his purpose, was struggling?

Sonic was stronger than Shadow.

Sonic was stronger than Shadow.

And sometimes you didn’t need logic to know that your other half, your soulmate, the one that held your heart was right there in front of you.

Shadow felt his strength continue to ebb, and he wanted to do one thing right in his life. He wanted closure. He wanted solace.

He wanted to be.

“Sonic.”

Glowing red eyes turned to him, eyes strong with life and power and warmth. Shadow felt himself get pulled in, and his tongue loosened, letting his thoughts fall free from his lips.

“When Maria died… I wondered if I could ever be happy again.”

Sonic’s face morphed into a look of confusion. Shadow wasn’t deterred. After all, it didn’t really matter the outcome of his speech.

He wasn’t going to last much longer.

“I always wondered, ever since I saw that moment, that awful moment, I wondered… If I ever could feel it again. What true happiness could feel like. I never found an answer, because the one thing I want… I can never have.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Something I know I can’t have."

Maria… I always wanted you to come back. I didn’t know how to live without you.

Shadow heaved a sigh. That was the easy part. Now for the hard part.

Sonic’s hand was still warm around his own. Shadow gathered his courage and continued.

“But I think I know… I think I know now. What could make me happy again. Happiness… isn’t always in ‘having’.” Shadow’s eyes reopened, but nothing came into focus. Sonic, brilliant and glorious, was a golden blur that his eyes savored. “It can be in ‘being’. It can be in just… saying it.”

“What are you talking about, Shadow?” Sonic sounded confused. Sonic sounded concerned.

Shadow kept going regardless. It was now or never. He would not die with these thoughts bottled up.

“I know… I know how I’ve been. How I’ve presented myself, to you and everyone else. Destructive, and angry, and broken, and… and the professor’s weapon to wield. That hate and anger… that’s what drove me. Like that was who I am. But it’s not.” Shadow took in another breath, but the fog in his head was seeping in and refusing to clear. “This whole time… I was driven by love. Everything I have ever done, the good and the bad, I have done for love. Love for someone I would never see again.”

Shadow could feel the energy begin to die in his body, feel the power inside him drain and dissipate, but he pushed on, determined to see this through. “And then I saw you, and I know… I know you’re the same. You guide your friends for love, you fought for this whole world for love… That is who you are.” His fingers squeezed Sonic’s, indulging in the warm energy that exuded from his grasp. “You are the most caring man on earth, you are the most selfless, loving person… that I will ever know again.”

Maria would have loved you.

Shadow blinked, and a few tears fell. Sonic remained silent, and Shadow couldn’t see his face in between the tears and the blurriness of his vision, but it didn’t matter. Whether reciprocated or not, Shadow wouldn’t be alive to see the consequences of his confession. 

“You know, ever since we met, ever since I first fought you, knowing you has changed me.” A silent laugh escaped his lips, and Shadow felt the tug of gravity begin to bring him down. “Because you’ve proven everything I thought to be true to be wrong. I learned that the world is not filled with nothing but cruelty, I learned that I was not alone in my power, I learned that caring for others was not something that held me back from what I was really supposed to be fighting for all along… A world where people could be happy and safe.” His mind flashed to Rouge, and their unfortunate final conversation. He hoped that she knew that he held no ill will against her. “I think I’ve discovered, now, what the Ultimate Lifeform is. I think… it might be you.” And that’s why I know the world will be safe with you. I know I can trust you with Maria’s final wish. “You changed me, Sonic.” Shadow’s head swam with dizziness and his soul sang with emotion, too many to identify and appreciate in the moment. He took a few more breaths, but they did nothing to bring clarity to his mind.

“Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

Sonic’s voice finally made its way to Shadow’s ears, and Shadow felt himself smile, in spite of himself. His words weren’t falling on deaf ears, and though his mind was too far gone to tell what Sonic was feeling, he was pretty sure he could feel a few tears that weren’t his own fall onto his arm as gravity pulled mercilessly at his legs.

He could hope, but again, it didn’t really matter now if his feelings were reciprocated or not.

“Because it is.”

He felt it now, the coldness of space, the hollowness that spread as his super form gave out, and the only thing keeping him suspended in the air was Sonic’s grip around his

wrist. Shadow closed his eyes, not planning on reopening them. It was now. His final truth, to be said before all, yet only to be heard by one.

“I love you.”

And he felt his heart pick up speed, because this was a new love, unlike the one he had felt for Maria, unlike the one that had been growing with Rouge. This was a love that he had only ever heard about before, a love that he always considered as something that belonged in the stories Maria had read to him when he was still young and growing and learning about everything around him. A love that he wanted to bask in, like the sun’s rays, or like Sonic’s unyielding brilliance.

He felt his wrist begin to slip as the inhibitor ring loosened. Sonic still said nothing, but Shadow didn’t mind. It was a lot to take in, and perhaps it was better this way. Shadow could die, not burdened by the sting of rejection or the longing for what he could have if he had managed to pull through.

His wrist slipped even more, and he felt Sonic jolt. “Shadow, wait--”

“Sayonara… Sonic the Hedgehog…”

Gravity claimed him. Shadow hardly noticed when his hand slipped free of the ring. He felt himself plummet, yet he felt the lightest he ever had in his life. He had fulfilled his promise to Maria. He had protected the world from his own mistakes, and found someone to keep it safe in his absence.

He had fallen in love.

As he fell into the atmosphere, burning upon entry, feeling as though he were surrounded by hellfire, Shadow the Hedgehog had no regrets.

He only felt happiness.

…

Some minutes later, on board the ARK, Sonic clutched at Shadow’s ring as he stared out into space. The others had scattered, talking to each other and making sense of what had happened, and what would happen next. Sonic knew that they had questions, they had concerns, all of them, Amy, Rouge, Knuckles, his brother… but he wasn’t ready to face them. Not yet.

Sonic heaved a breath, fogging up the window in front of him. The loss stung him more than he could possibly fathom in that moment, still fresh and new. He was alone in the observation deck, now. He squeezed the ring in his grasp, making a mental note to pass it on to Rouge. He wasn’t…

He wasn’t ready to hold it for the rest of his life. He wasn’t ready to be reminded of…

“Sayonara… Shadow the Hedgehog…”

Sonic left the room, and didn’t look back.

[nexyra]

What is your take on rwby chara's mbti types? I think

Weiss - xSTJ, thought that she was ESTJ at first but ISTJ makes a lot of sense too.

Winter - ESTJ

Pyrrha - ESFJ

Emerald - ISFJ (I've seen some ppl type her as INFJ but I don't see how she is a Ni dom?)

Whitley - ENTJ? I'm honestly not sure abt that..

Adam - fucked up xNFJ, probably INFJ (seen him typed as xNTJ but his delusional thinking process imo screams unhealthy Ti and I think his manipulation of Blake and the WF is more Fe than Te

Qrow - was thinking ISTP but with the more recent volumes I'm really not sure..

Penny - ENFP

Ozpin - Uuuuuh INTP maybe?? But I've seen some people type him as INFJ. INFJ 5w6 would make sense as to why he might appear as an INTP but idk..

Bartholomew- ENTP

Jaune - no fucking idea honestly

Ironwood - ENTJ

Sun - Seen ppl type him as ENFP but I don't see any Ne at all..,,ESFP?

Yang - ESxP, maybe ESTP

Cinder - INTJ

Mercury - ISTP

Oscar - ISFJ

Ren - ISTx?

Hello anon ! I see my love for typology hasn't gone unnoticed 😂 Thank you so much for the ask !

I prefer enneagram over MBTI because I find it easier to type; so fair warning that I'm not an authority on MBTI-typing. But I do have have an ongoing RWBY typing that includes MBTI sooo... here goes !

(I'm putting my ennea typings along with it, but not explaining them on this post)

➸ RWBYJNPR

Ruby • xNFP 6w7 9w1 2w3?

I just can't decide between the two fors Ruby because... it kind of goes both way ??? Like Ruby definitely feels as INFP for the first half of the series; she's got a clear Fi > Ne preference... But then when she develops her Tert in V6 it's just... Te ? And she really doesn't show much Si actually she fits more the Si inf vibe in the form of forgetting about bad memories and her mom until people dig it up and she's like "nooo !" ?? So it looks like Te > Si but also Fi > Ne; conclusion idfk

Weiss • ISTJ 1w2 6w5 3w4 sp/so

Clear Fi tert rearing its head along with the 1 so I'm going with ISTJ; I also never really saw any Ne. Her type isn't too disagreed upon so tell me if you want a lenghtier explanation.

Blake • ISFP 6w5 9w8 4w3 (in some order)

Wooh this might get the anger of some (i have experience with the INFJ typers) but Blake goddamn REEKS of Fi. Less so recently but for the first seasons oh my god. She straights up catch you by the shirt and tells you "I'm doing the right thing"; and said right thing is so heavily dependant on her own subjectives values, which is why Blake can't reconcile with the current White Fang; because she doesn't have a strong Je vision of "what objectively works in the end", she only sees actions in terms of immediate right and wrong, and this b&w dichotomy stems from herself. What the WF is doing is wrong and the circumstances don't matter for judging the morality of their actions (of course I'm not talking about murder here bc that's pretty wrong ALL THE TIME but for example the stealing occuring in V1 bc of the WF is a better example)

Yang • ESXP 7w8 8w7 2w3

I'm sorry about that but I can't help you on that aspect anon, I still can't make up my mind about whether Yang has Fi or Ti. I have seen arguments for both, and i'm not the best at picking up on Ti so it's hard for me to tell.

Jaune • ESFJ 6w7 3w2 9w1

No strong opinions on his MBTI, it's kinda just based on vibes

Nora • ENFP 6w7 9w8 3w2

Textbook ENFP, not much to say here x))

Pyrrha • XXFJ 2w1 1w2 6?

In my list Pyrrha is currently written down as ISFJ but that's mostly based on the general consensus and me wanting to get rid of the XX. I don't actually have any convincing arguments to decide on Ni or Si, so I could go either way if someone else makes their case well. I feel like she's Fe aux more than dom, but even about that I could change my mind. Pyrrha didn't have that much screentime in the end :((

Ren • ISTJ? 9w1 5w4 4w5

Ironically I'm not sure about his type, kind of like you. I've mentionned I'm not very good at picking up on Ti right ? And Ren was a background character before V4 really. I had him written down as ISTP for a while but I've seen some convincing arguments for ISTJ so I might lean toward that actually but who knows. The thing I'm very confident about is his 5 fix = )

➸ Faunus bonus

Sun • ESFP 7w6 2w3 9w1 so/sx

I don't see any Ne at all either so I don't understand the ENFP typings...?? Maybe the 7 stereotypes ? Imo Sun is just a very good boy; certified ESFP 7 himbo; triple positive sunshine !

Ilia • Ti-Fe axis ?

Again, not enough screentime for me to make an educated guess. My only certainty is : not high Fi. It's the source of their conflicts. Blake confidence in absolute right & wrong, tracing lines in the sand between acceptable & unacceptable. Whereas Ilia can only shake her head and say "Because it works", or cry out "I don't know what else to do !"

Adam • 3w4 8w7 6w5

I honestly don't really have much of an opinion about Adam's MBTI, i'm sorry anon ;; I don't know enough about how he thinks

➸ Oz-related things and his circle

Ozpin • INFJ 5w4 2w1 1w9

I would personally call him an INFJ. I... never really got INTP vibes from him ? I don't see the Fe inf work out with his interactions : he's always rather at ease, he knows how to navigate around people... His focus inherently lies on doing what's best for the "group", the people, humanity. Fx functions are both concerned with ethics, in different ways, and I think Oz reflects that well. He IS concerned with the moral weight of his actions, but it's a more adaptable and unpersonnal concern than Fi people. He regards Ironwood's soul machines as something wrong, but can still agree to use it if the situations demand it for example. So... if the INFJ + 5 makes sense to you, well that's what I'm typing him personally. I also feel like Ni fits him more than Ne. Ozpin has a very linear way of planning, he does use his fair share of symbolism in every day conversation... Even when taking decisions, he... kind of cares about the meaning of things a lot ? It's hard to explain but like; the way he highlights the difference between an army and a guardian, and the emotionnal response it brings. I don't know it feels like there's some Ni vibes in there x)

Oscar • ISFJ 9w8 6w7 3w2

Oscar's type honestly isn't the one I would have the easiest time explaining in lenght but yea. It's mostly vibes; also just like Ozpin he doesn't seem to have a particularly Fi reasonning. And he feels more grounded, I don't really remember any Ni so... yay ?

Ironwood • ENFJ 6w5 1w2 3w4 (pre-Vol8); ENTJ (post-Vol8)

Might be weird if you think he was a dictator from the start, but I kind of entertained the idea of Ironwood being Fe dom ? From his very first interaction it was very clear that he was a Je dom to me; he's all about objective results; he doesn't give off the "internal framework" or "personnal values" vibe AT ALL; so it was more a matter of picking Te or Fe. He LOOKS super Te don't get me wrong; but he also has an enneagram tritype that is very common amongst XXTJs (and TJs stereotypes thus derive from it). And just like Oz, his focus at all time seemed to be the greater good and doing what's best for the people still. So I was like... Eh, a "harsh" ENFJ I think that's interesting ? Plus Fe ethics actually derive from their environment, kinda like "everyone agrees that Y is wrong", and if you consider that James is from Atlas... Well his way of thinking and ethics align pretty well with the military.

His character took a turn for the worse in V8 (whether too quick or not depends on who you ask) and past that point he's a clear ENTJ; but I feel like it was more debatable before that. Idk though I might be overthinking this in the hope of making more interesting combinations xD

Qrow • ISTP 4w3 6w7? 1w9? sp/sx

I don't really see anything else than ISTP for Qrow... But he's not a character I would want to find Ti arguments for either.

Raven • ENTJ Cp6w5 8w9 3w4

Most villains get called ENTJ at the first occasions tbh zlqfznhqzkf but I think it fits Raven for the most part actually...

➸ Atlas

Winter • ESTJ 1w9 3w4 6w5

The whole Schnee family has the same enneagram tritype in different order/different wings, it's ridiculous I think she has a higher Te than Weiss, and Fi inf fits her more. She struggles more to reconcile with her emotions and the idea of a personal right/wrong than her little sis.

Penny • ENFP 4w3 6w7 9w1 sx/so

Perfect example of a healthy 4, she's a great friend a cutie pie. ... Sorry we were talking about MBTI x) Well again, textbook ENFP. Not much to debate here.

Whitley • 3w4 1w9 6w5?

Not enough material for me to guess a MBTI type correctly either, sorry... I could see some kind of xNTJ yea but it's really just vibes and not enough concrete.

➸ Antagonists and Extras

Cinder • 8w7 3w4 6w5

Never cared to guess her MBTI type. I hereby type her as insufferable qkfqskfq. More seriously, I don't really know sorry Anon :/

Emerald • 2w3 ?w? ?w?

I never got Fe vibes from her tbh, I just think she's a 2. And Fe as a function is very infused with 2 stereotypes. So yea. Like, she isn't even that worried about the morality of her actions or anything more than the other villains. She just cares more about her personal relationships and being loved, so she automatically looks much nicer, especially with 2 mechanisms of trying to make herself useful and needed. Also because she's surrounded by 8-ish people xD

Mercury • 8w9 7w8 ?w?

ISTP doesn't sound too farfeteched, but I never MBTI-typed him either, sorry.

+

Bartholomew Oobleck • xSxJ 5w4

The only vibe he gave me is Si somewhere because of all his talks about learning from the past and everything repeats itself and it's a mine of informations at Mountain Glen... That's really the only time I tried to put down anything for him, and it was Si + 5. He could be some kind of xNTP nerd too for sure, but that's more vibe and I couldn't make an actual argument for it.

[tessiete]

For the Spotify fanfic ficlet: 12 for the Kenobi-Kryze fam? 🥺

@lightasthesun so here’s the deal. I STRUGGLED with this. Because I wanted to give you happy, fun, fluffy times, and there are some real bangers on my Wrapped. I mean, relative bangers.

But you picked probably the most Obitine-angst appropriate song ever, and I was like......oh, no. I can’t - I can’t do that to them.

So, after several days of thinking about it, we came up with this. It’s...I refuse to call it angst, bc everyone is alive, and well. It’s just like, some family fun times. Thanks, especially to the Obitine discord, and @duchess-of-mandalore @mg024 and Finn!

And anyway, I hope you love it! Thank you so much for the challenge! <3

Prompt: The Chain (Ingrid Michaelson)

THE CHAIN

The sky over Capital City is grey, and tremulous when they arrive on Coruscant. A natural storm had surged over the breakers of the planet’s ancient atmo regulators to sound its rage and fury out above the city. It’s rare, but not unheard of, and though some might take it as an ill omen, Satine thinks it a fair reflection of the twisting winds within her breast. Rain falls in great, heavy drops, lashing its grief across the transparisteel viewports as they break through the clouds. Thunder cracks, righteous and defiant. Lightning fractures the plate of the sky, reaching out with jealous fingers to touch the earth. Korkie has slept through it all, but Satine doesn’t want to miss any moment more than she must.

They hit the pad with the sudden jolt of gravity reasserting itself, the locking clamps securing them in place. She feels each shudder of the ship echoing in her bones, the soft satyn of her simple travelling gown like water over her skin. Every contrast feels sharp, and malicious. She takes Korkie’s small hand in her larger one, and together they wait for the ramp to lower, releasing them into the wilds outside.

And they are met.

Across the platform, standing silent in the downpour, is Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

Though her vision blurs, and renders his face unreadable, she can see the straight line of his shoulders, the proud tilt of his chin, and the defiant stance of his feet spread wide. His hands are hidden in the fold of his cloak, and at his back are Masters Windu and Jinn.

At Satine’s back is the black maw of the ship, and the wind whistling through it. Korkie laughs, and she looks away from the Jedi to see her son, hands out, catching rain. 

“It’s wet! Belli, look!” he says, showing her his hand, shining in the grey light. “The sky is crying!”

Satine feels the rain coursing over her own face, and smiles in recognition of his delight.

“It is,” she says. “Happy tears, of course. Coruscant is glad to meet you, kih'kairkiyc.”

He grins at her, and she squeezes his hand, and together they cross the narrow bridge from the ship’s dock to the reception platform where they are met by Obi-Wan. He steps forward, and bows, deep, and formal.

“Duchess,” he says. His voice does not waver, but lies flat, and orderly in the space between them. 

He is much the same as she remembers, though his hair is longer, and his braid is cut. A beard has grown in, at long last, though she does not like how it covers his mouth, and hides half his face, and she longs to reach out and wipe it away so she might be able to read him again, like she used to. But there is more than an arm’s length between them, so instead, she nods her head in acknowledgement.

“Knight Kenobi,” she says, like glass, clean and showing nothing of itself.

Korkie tugs at her hand, and she pulls him forward to introduce him next. His fingers linger at the tips of hers as she lets him go. He takes a step. He takes a breath, and just as they’d practiced, he bows with his hands clasped before him, until his back is level with the floor.

“How do you do, Knight Kenobi?” Then, in succession, “Master Windu. Master Jinn.”

The three Jedi return the gesture. Master Windu is tense, and wary of her, she can tell, still unconvinced of the wisdom in this. Obi-Wan’s eyes are fixed on her, but Qui-Gon Jinn smiles at the boy, and Korkie stumbles back until he falls against his mother’s stomach, his hand reaching out to fist in the fabric of her gown to steady himself.

“Hello Korkie,” the old Jedi greets. His voice is soft, like birdwatchers in Keldabe before. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

Obi-Wan is pulled from his study of the past by this reminder of their present company. His hands drop, and he shifts, leaning towards her, his head ducked and uncertain.

“I apologise for the weather,” he says. “I would have - if there had been any indication of inclemence such as this, I would have suggested somewhere with a roof.”

“Of course,” Satine says, too quickly. Then, bridling herself, she continues. “Coruscant is usually such a civilised, and well-behaved planet, it could not have been foreseen.”

There is the promise of forgiveness at the end of her declaration, which Obi-Wan accepts with relief, and they smile at each other. It is brief, and carried more in their eyes, than in their mouths or hands, but it is there nonetheless.

“And you, Master Korkie,” says Qui-Gon, with a smirk of his own. “Are you more civilised, and well-behaved than you appear at first glance?”

He gestures to Korkies rumpled tunic, and mussed hair which sticks up in wild tussocks like knots of grass.

“Someone was rather exhausted by our journey,” says Satine, fondly. “He fell asleep just past Corsin.”

“It was rather a long flight,” says Korkie, in his own defence. “And I don’t much like flying. Lightspeed always feels funny.”

At this, Qui-Gon kneels to meet Korkie on his level, and speaks as if he is confessing some great secret.

“Do you know,” he says, “That Knight Kenobi also dislikes flying.”

Korkie throws a wondering glance at Obi-Wan, who shifts beneath the scrutiny.

“Truly?” he asks Qui-Gon.

The Jedi nods. “Yes, truly. Only he stays awake the whole time.”

“Why?”

“I think in order to complain,” says Qui-Gon. “He needs to be sure that I am equally as miserable as he is, otherwise he feels lonely for company. But it does make for a very long trip, from my point of view.”

“That’s silly, Knight Kenobi,” declares Korkie. He turns to address Obi-Wan directly, and though he speaks critically, his brow is lifted, and his eyes wide in an earnest desire to ease the knight’s discomfort. “It’s much better if you sleep,” he says, with all the wisdom of a moment. “The time goes by much faster.”

Obi-Wan is forced to accept his master’s censure with grace as to spare the gentle feelings of an innocent child, so he smiles, and bows to acknowledge the boy.

“As you say, Master Kryze. You are probably right.”

“I know I am,” Korkie says. “Even though I do look a little wild in the end. But I feel tidy. So I suppose it’s just a matter of which part of me you look at.”

With a rumble that starts deep in his belly, then tumbles out like thunder, Qui-Gon Jinn laughs.

“A man after my own heart,” he says, giving Korkie a little clap on the shoulder. “I foresee you will become a great Jedi, Kiorkicek Kryze.”

“Sorry to interrupt, Duchess, Obi-Wan,” says Master Windu, stepping between the parties, “But as this rain doesn’t look to be letting up any time soon, may I suggest we complete the investiture ceremony somewhere a little drier?”

He levels Obi-Wan with a challenging glance, but its severity is diminished somewhat by his own bedraggled state. Despite their equal exposure, the rain has somehow managed to do more damage to Mace Windu’s composure than any of the others. Perhaps because he is more conscious of his position, and his dignity than the other two, Qui-Gon being rather untroubled by such pretensions, and Obi-Wan still humbled and distracted by the circumstances in which he’s come face to face with the unquiet ghosts of his past. Both of them wear the rain with ease, but Mace has struggled, unable to convince himself of the need to shield himself, but conscious of the desire. His cloak is patchy with damp, and the top of his head reflects the sky, the water washing his face, and dripping from his lips and chin. It is clear that Obi-Wan feels this indignity on his superior’s behalf, but Satine fights laughter at the spectacle.

“I think that would be wise, Master Windu,” she says, her voice tripping and sparking with barely repressed delight.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he says, with a shallow bow. And then he says, “There is an air car waiting.”

And Satine feels her stomach drop.

She meets Obi-Wan’s eye over Mace’s shoulder. His gaze is steady, and somber and as he makes his answer to the master’s request, and she can hear farewell in the heaviness of his voice.

“Yes, Master Windu,” he says. “Satine, I’m sorry we must be so brief, but I -” and he stands gaping, and voiceless for a moment.

The tight knuckle of sickness twists in her gut, scraping across the raw nerves of the underside of her skin, buckling muscles, and shifting against her bones, but she swallows the nausea back, and saves Obi-Wan from the inexorable void of silence.

“Do not apologise, Obi-Wan,” she says. “These things cannot be helped. Perhaps it is better this way. Perhaps the sting will be less.”

“Like a plaster,” he says, numbly.

And she agrees. “Just like.”

Master Jinn’s rises from his crouch, leaving his hands to ghost over Korkie’s shoulders, his hand still wrapped in her own, and Obi-Wan still staring at her, still drowning in the rain. Master Windu is merciful then, and bows out his leave taking.

“I’ll prepare the car,” he says.

“Thank you, Mace,” says Qui-Gon, when no one says anything else, and Master Windu leaves them to say goodbye. 

But still, no one moves. Silence falls, a fragile, lacework thing, too delicate to touch with the clumsy fingers of speech. They remain suspended in its web for an age, until Qui-Gon braves what the others cannot fathom, and speaks again.

“Obi-Wan,” he says, stepping away from Korkie to reach for his own grown padawan. “A word.”

He draws him aside, turning away, turning their backs to Satine and Korkie, and speaking quietly in Obi-Wan’s ear, an arm about his shoulders, and drawing him close in private assignation. At another time, she might feel ostracised and othered by this, but now, she is grateful. It is she who is with Korkie, and the Jedi who must stand apart.

She kneels to face her son, heedless of her skirt, of the thin satyn and how it catches at the rough duracrete, pulling taut, maybe tearing beneath the pressure of her knees. She doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter. What matters is this: herself, and her son, and the rain washing away the things between them.

“I don’t want to go,” says Korkie, and she grips his hands tighter than before.

“You must,” she says. “You must. You are going to be a wonderful Jedi Knight. Just think of that.”

“I don’t care,” he says. “I know I said before, but I changed my mind. I want to go home.”

“You can’t go home, kih'kairkiyc,” she replies, her tongue growing thick with a truth she hates to speak. “Remember? We talked about this. It’s dangerous. But you will be safe here. Knight Kenobi will protect you.”

“But who will protect you if I’m not there?”

“Oh, many people, Kiorkicek,” she says. “A whole court of people. All the people. The people of Mandalore will be my strength, and they will take very good care of me while you’re away, and one day, when you come home, they will be glad to meet you again, and so will I.”

“Do you promise?” he asks. “You won’t forget me? Even if I’m gone for a very long time?”

“Even if you were gone for almost as long as forever, I would never forget you, Kiorkicek Kryze. Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad. Ratiin.”

“Ratiin,” he repeats. “Always, and always.”

“Yes,” she avows. “Now, do you remember what I told you?”

“To wash my face, and brush my teeth every day, even if I’m very sleepy.”

And she laughs, pulling him close to her breast, and tucking his head beneath her chin.

“Yes,” she says. “That is very important, but what else?”

“To listen to the masters, and study hard, and show respect, and try my best, and to always, always be very kind to Knight Kenobi, because he isn’t always very kind to himself.”

“Yes,” she whispers. She presses a kiss to his hair, and combs it as flat as she can. “That last part, most especially, kih'kairkiyc. Look after each other. For me.”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Belli.”

“Bal Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, balyc.”

“Satine?” The call is Obi-Wan’s and she looks up from the cradle of her embrace, and her son within it to see him standing cautious, and concerned a few paces away. “It’s time to go.” 

“Of course,” she says. She stands. She takes Korkie’s hand, nestled in her own, and places it in Obi-Wan’s. For a moment, the three of them are one, together, and then…

She lets go.

“Goodbye, my Kiorkicek,” she says. “Remember what I told you. Kote, ijaa, aliit. Ratiin.”

He nods, and she can see his grip tighten on Obi-Wan’s hand, fierce determination rising in the face of her expectations. It is Obi-Wan who falters.

“Satine, I -” he shakes his head. His eyes match the storm. “I will do my best by him, I swear. I will not fail you. I will not.”

“I know,” she says, steady where he is not. “I would not give him up to another. None but you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Gar ratiin ru’kar'taylir. Be gentle with it.”

He nods. There is nothing else to say, and they’ve always been terrible at goodbye. She smiles at Korkie one last time, and he points at the sky.

“Happy tears,” he says, and grins, wiping the salty streaks from his own face.

And with that, he tugs on Obi-Wan’s hand, and leads him off towards the distant figure of Mace Windu, and the air car waiting patiently to take them home.

But Satine is not alone.

Qui-Gon Jinn steps close, until she can feel his shoulder jut up against her own, the warmth of his body breaching the barricade of wet clothes, to soothe her own chapped skin, and she shivers against him.

For a moment, they say nothing, just watching as Obi-Wan turns to Korkie, and Korkie to Obi-Wan, chatting animatedly, his free hand swooping through the air. She imagines he must be telling him of their departure from Mandalore, and the world he left behind, and she hopes that selfishly, she might be included in as many of these stories as he thinks to tell, because he is in all of hers. Qui-Gon chuckles beside her.

“Fast friends, already,” he says.

“Forgotten just as fast,” she whispers, nearly losing the words to the storm. But Qui-Gon is listening closely.

“Never that,” he says. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, and she yields like water, dropping her head to his shoulder, and weeping into the crook of his neck.

“I thought I was ready,” she says, hitching breaths to match the shifting winds. “But it has come too soon.”

She feels his chin press against her skull, and though it isn’t exactly comfortable, there is comfort in the angles of his affection, and she leans closer to him, until her arms sneak beneath the wet folds of his outer robe, and wrap around his waist. She clings there, as though she might blow away. This is familiar, though it is an old, old memory, now. She was once a girl, before she was a Duchess, and Qui-Gon Jinn was once to her the very thing her father could not be. She was bereaved, but never lost, and there were many nights that Qui-Gon held her while she wept just like this. It is easy to reach for him, now. It is easy to look back.

“You are never ready,” he says, his voice vibrating so near to her ear it is as though he speaks to her from within her own mind. “But he is not going very far. He is with his family. He is with his father. You are not losing him to the wilderness.”

“No,” she says. “Only to the Force.”

He does not chide her for the bitterness upon her tongue.

His own words remain gentle, and soothing, and he rocks her in his arms, as they watch the matched set of their hearts walk away.

“Then I have lost my own heart twice,” he says. “First to the Force, and then to you. But people always come back, in one way or another. No one is gone forever.”

And as they reach the car, as though he hears their call from across a vast, unending night, and over the wind and roar of the storm, Obi-Wan looks back, and Qui-Gon smiles.

“Oh, look,” he says, as the knight turns once more to his son. “There he goes again.”

Satine buries her face in Qui-Gon’s arms, and though she doesn’t feel at peace, for a moment, she feels like she has come home.

[galaxyofmyown]

could u do a fic where reader is scared that hotch is cheating on them and hotch learns that its bc their past partners had cheated?

anon, i think i may scream. not because of your request (it is lovely and original and i like it). but i think my brain is bye-bye GONE. this took me like four days to write for literally no reason. so i’m writing this note to apologize in advance for errors or literally just bad writing. brain-machine say no. but PLEASE! feel free to send another request and i promise i will craft it as the gods crafted man (well, i’ll try). AHHHHHH. i hope you enjoy anyways!! :))))))

NOTE: I FINALLY MADE IT GENDER-NEUTRAL THOUGH AHAHAHA

aaron hotchner x reader - i know not

“Hey, baby,” Hotch says over the phone. It’s almost midnight and you’re alone in your bed once again.

“Hey, Aaron. How’s the case going?” You ask. You’re curled up under your clean sheets, freshly showered and in your favorite sleep clothes. But for some reason, you don’t feel comfortable at all.

“It’s… coming along. I should be home in a day or two.” He says. He sounds genuinely tired, and you trust this man with all of you, or at least you try to. Sometimes, though, you can’t help but get paranoid, the darker memories creeping in, clouding your vision.

“Okay. I love you.” You say softly.

“I love you more. And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I understand.”

“You are extraordinary, (Y/N).”

“Ditto, Agent. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. Love you.” He says again, easing your worry.

“Love you too. Stay safe.”

You plug in your phone and set it on your bedside table. Your room is lit only by one small lamp, and you stare at your ceiling. Your mind wanders even though you did not give it permission to do that. Usually, Hotch asks you to watch Jack part-time when he’s on a case, but in the last couple instances he assured you that Jessica could take care of him. It was probably nothing, but you couldn’t help but jump to a worst-case scenario. Were you getting cheated on again? Or was he about to break up with you?

No. Bad (Y/N). Stop.

But he was always so annoyingly vague about his cases. What if, and we’re just spitballing here, what if he isn’t even on a case when he says he is? What if he finishes the case, and rather than going home to you, he goes to some other person’s house? 

You sit up in bed, suddenly wide awake. You know you’re being ridiculous, but you can’t help it. Aaron is a great guy. He loves you. He wouldn’t even cheat if he didn’t love you. He wouldn’t do that to anyone. You’re reaching for your phone before you can convince yourself not too.

“Hello?”

Just hearing Hotch’s voice makes you feel better.

“Hi. Sorry. I didn’t mean to call you.” You say.

“Are you sure? Is something wrong?” He asks, and his concern makes you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

“No, everything’s fine. Sorry again. Goodnight.” You hang up before he can probe more.

You sigh and walk to the kitchen to get a snack. You don’t think you’ll be getting much sleep tonight.

---

You wake up at 7:30 the next morning for work, your eyelids drooping and feet dragging. You make coffee in your biggest travel mug before heading out. Your day at the publishing house is slow and you think it’s a miracle it ends at all. You check your phone as you’re leaving the building and you see a text from Hotch.

Agent: Hey (Y/N). I’ll be home tonight around 8. Want to come over? Jack will be home and I know he misses you as much as I do.

You smile like an idiot and quickly respond that you’ll be there on the dot. You’re walking to your parking space when a familiar silver sedan passes you.

“I know not.” You say, your suspicions confirmed by the familiar license plate. You rush to your car before you start crying in the middle of the parking lot.

Why else would he lie to you and pretend he wasn’t back yet? Was he going to his place to meet someone right now? You start your car and pull out of the lot before you lose your nerve. You don’t know what you’ll say, but you have to confront him. You had your suspicions in your last relationship, but you ignored them. The only good that did was give you four more months of ignorant bliss before you realized you were being cheated on yet again.

You’re shaking by the time you pull up to his apartment building. You climb the stairs with the nervous anticipation you used to get as a kid when you had to get a shot. You have a moment's pause before you reach the door, your knock strong despite the weakness in your knees.

Hotch is still in his suit when he opens the door, but his tie is loose and his jacket is wrinkled.

“(Y/N). Wh-what are you doing here?” He asks, looking more confused than anything else.

“What are you doing here? You said you wouldn’t be back for hours. What am I supposed to think when you drive by me in your car when you’re meant to be four states over?”

Hotch still hasn’t opened the door enough for you to see inside, which all but confirms your worst fears.

“(Y/N), I can explain what-”

“Hotch,” You can’t call him Aaron right now, “Just tell me. Is there someone else?” You say, voice breaking. Aaron’s face can’t hide his emotions. His eyebrows furrow and he tilts his head up at you in that condescending way you hate.

“(Y/N). No. Why would you think that?” He says, but his voice isn’t reassuring. If anything, it’s angry.

“Can you blame me for feeling a little insecure, Hotch? You’ve been home three days out of the last two weeks. You don’t want me watching Jack in your apartment all of a sudden. You lie about whether or not you’re home? Is this the first time you came home without telling me, or is this something you’ve been doing. Do you laugh when I believe you?” You’re lashing out and you know it, but you can’t help the way your voice rises as you let out all of your pent-up feelings.

Hotch is silent, staring intently at your face. You know his profiling look, and this isn’t it. This is his boyfriend look. He’s concerned, but guarded, analyzing his best move. The amazing thing about Hotch, the thing you love about Hotch, is that he’s always determining the best move that will make you happy.

After a moment of tense quiet, he sighs in resignation and opens the door all the way.

His apartment is a mess. Clothes everywhere, dishes stacked in and around his sink, overflowing trash bags strewn about.

“Oh,” you say, tilting your head and willing yourself not to pass judgment, “hmm.”

Hotch looks sheepish.

“I, I’ve been having a tough couple of weeks. That’s why I lied about when I was getting back. I wanted some time to clean.” He says.

“You could’ve just told me.” You point out, and he nods.

“I know, I know, and I should have. I don’t know what I’m so afraid of. It’s just the thought of you thinking of me as weak…” He trails off, and your anger dissipates. 

“Aaron, baby,” You say, taking his face in your hands, “I love you. I know who you are. You’re the strongest man I know. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t come to me for help. I would do anything for you.” You whisper your last statement, and yet it still carries the most force. Hotch leans into your touch.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I love you,” He pauses, at a loss for words, “I love you.”

You huff out a laugh.

“You already said that.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

You hug him, and he melts into your arms. 

“I could’ve watched Jack at my place, you know. It doesn’t bother me at all.” You say, leading him over to the couch (and clearing off some clothes as you do so.). He rests his head in your lap.

“I didn’t want to ask that of you. You work a full-time job, and I know you didn’t sign up for being his babysitter-”

“Hey. No. When I started seeing you Jack became just as important part of my life as you are. I would drop everything for both of you.”

You notice Hotch’s eyes are getting red, and you stroke your hand through his hair.

“I adore you, (Y/N). You are absolutely amazing. And sometimes the thought of you leaving is so scary that I shut down.” He says.

“I get it. I just want you to know I’m all in.”

“I know you are. I am too.”

Both of you just sit there for a moment, basking in one another’s company.

“Speaking of scared,” you begin to say, and Hotch sits up to look at you, “I’m sorry I accused you of… you know, cheating.” You’re ashamed. 

“I’m not mad. I’m sorry I was rude to you. I don’t blame you for not trusting me with how I’ve been acting lately.” He says, and you sigh in relief.

“Thank you. I’ve just had bad experiences, so it’s hard sometimes to not get worried.”

“Bad experiences? What do you mean?” Hotch asks, protective mode activated. 

“My last three boyfriends all cheated on me.” You say quietly. Hotch stands up and paces back and forth past the coffee table a few times.

“Aaron?” You ask carefully. He stops when he hears your voice and the tenseness of his shoulders seems to melt away.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, returning to the couch, “how could anyone do that to you?” He asks, taking your hands in his. You don’t know how to respond, so he kisses your forehead.

“Listen to me,” he murmurs, “I would never, ever, in a million years do anything to hurt you like that. Never. You are my world.” He says. You nod, fighting back tears.

“I love you so much.” You say because it’s never enough.

“I love you more.” He responds. You shake your head. Impossible.

“Get up, then.” You say, hopping off the couch.

“Why?” He asks but gets up anyway.

“We’re cleaning. Both of us. And then we’re picking Jack up. Both of us. And then we’re making dinner. Both of us. Got it?”

Hotch smiles and picks up a trash bag.

“Got it.”

[pinkykitten]

Forest pt. 1

 Castlevania 

Alucard Tepes x female! reader

Warning: cursing, violence, gore, mentions of blood

Specifics: chapter fic, romance, angst, fluff, not requested, action, adventure, race neutral reader, human reader

People: alucard tepes, monster thingy from the show

Words: 3,338

Summary: Since Alucard lives in the forest now in Dracula’s castle he meets the reader in the forest and in that moment he starts to have a liking towards her and is very bashful, blushy and romantic towards her and she is a goofball and is very silly and lighthearted. From the moment that they met all Alucard wants to do is protect the reader no matter what is takes. 

Authors Note: god alucard is so sexy and so beautiful like god dang! lol sorry im a bit of a horny nerd. anywho its rlly late where im at andddddd i cant go to sleep cuz i slept the whole day so ayyyee. anywho i was inspired idk where but i was inspired to write this bc i think alucard deserves love and someone who adores him like i do. i loved writing this tho and rlly want to write for castlevania more but this is going to be chapters idk how many yet lets just see where the wind takes us i hate planning anyways. IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS THO I AINT EVEN MAD ABOUT IT!!!!! LIKE YASSSSSSSSSS

“Alright so its been almost a month and I haven’t died. That must mean I’m doing something right.” You used a piece of wood you made into a cane to help you get up the steep hills. You were voyaging alone in the forest. You had a family that were settled more outside the town that you lived near. You were a large family and your siblings came down with a sickness. You were determined to find a cure and determined to find medicine for them. As scary as it may have seemed you needed to put on a brave face for the dangers that lay out ahead. You knew those monsters walked around and as much as that terrified you, your siblings came first. At a young age, adventure excited you and you always wanted to prove to yourself and family that you were more than capable of doing things alone. 

You saw a river down below. The water rushing past rocks made you relaxed and with a glint in your eyes you smiled. “Aha!” You looked left and right, seeing if anyone was present. “Alone with just the woods and me. I knew mother was wrong. I can very much so take care of myself.” You threw your satchel on the floor alongside with your clothes. “I smell like a pig.” You chuckled at your joke. The cool, clear water was down below as you ran to it, looking forward to the coldness and the feeling of being clean. You jumped in not knowing someone was near. 

You dunked your face laughing. “And there’s fish!” You swam behind a light blue fish. Being at awe when you saw the way the fins shone from the sun. You picked it up skillfully and carefully you set it free. Your body delicately floated. “This is the life.” Birds chirped, the wind blew like a whisper against your cheek. 

But suddenly, the rustle of the trees alarmed you. You heard the snapping of a twig. Your head snapped to the noise. Fear bubbled inside you as you thought of all the possibilities. What if it was a bear? What if it were those monsters? Your heart sped fast as you backed out of the river. Your breathing was faster. You needed to get out of here. As you got out your back hit against fur. You quickly turned around as saw a huge demon, monster, you didn’t even know what but you knew it was from Dracula’s army. Its teeth were sharp and its eyes were bright and red. It was your worst nightmare. You erupted a scream as you sprinted around it, climbing the hill to where your satchel laid. 

“Oh my God! Oh my God! I’m gonna die!” You didn’t care about your nudeness, all that mattered to you was surviving. You tried to go as fast as possible but the creature landed in front of you, stopping you from escaping. It cornered you against a huge boulder and tree. With everything you had you lifted your cane high in the air and hit the monster. It didn’t even flinch. 

“What?” Your eyes widened in horror. The creature picked you up as if you weighed nothing and threw you against a tree. You cried out in pain as your back burned and ached to an extreme level. You then noticed that a tree branch stabbed right through your shoulder. The blood dripped down your arm onto your naked skin. You felt queasy and weak. Thoughts and last words echoed through your mind. The monster was about to devour you but a flash of blonde hair came into your vision and you saw, him.

This young man was nothing you’ve ever seen before. He was stronger than the average person, throwing the monster back and forth. He punched it high in the air and then threw it against the boulder. He was incredible. Full of power. Your eyes were starting to close and your vision grew blurry as the last thing you saw were the fangs that the man displayed. 

“Mother I had this terrible dream!” Your whole body shot up. That was a terrible decision as you winced in pain. “It was not a dream.” You breathed hard as you took in your surroundings. The fire was lit making the room comfortable as you were once shivering from being wet. It looked as if you were in the kitchen of somebody's house. “Hello?” Your throat was dry. You were in a stranger’s house. You were in a stranger’s house! “Oh dear.”  You were put high onto a table. You jumped off but were still too weak. You landed hard on your knees but caught yourself with your arms. Your shoulder pounding in pain. You became dizzy. You heard footsteps nearing. “Who are you?” You tried to stand up again but slipped into the arms of a man. 

“Hold on. You are still not well.” His voice came out almost like a whisper. He picked you up and sat you back on the table. “Also, I’m the man who saved your life.”

“That was you? That was, um, pretty amazing.” You curled into yourself. You were nervous around this man. He intimidated you and made you feel shy. He was very handsome and charming. “You kicked that things as* real good.”

The man chuckled, “thank you.”

You quickly looked at your nightgown. It was too big for you as the sleeves ate your arms and the collar was off the shoulders. Your eyes shot open. You were bashful. “Did you, um, see anything?”

He looked away, “I kinda had to. Sorry. You were naked when I saved you.”

“Great. That’s great,” you inhaled clapping your hands. Suddenly you sensed a throbbing pain on your shoulder and you looked to see a blood stain on the nightgown. “Um excuse me sir. Is that supposed to happen?”

The man looked worried as he laid you back down and pulled the nightgown down enough to see your shoulder. “It does not look good. It seems with that jump you reopened the stitches.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. God, this really hurts.”

He got to work on doing your stitches again as he got his items. “Bite down on this.” He opened his mouth to show the action and you saw his teeth. 

“Agh please don’t eat me! You’re a vampire aren’t you?” You flinched away. 

The man rolled his eyes as he shoved the cloth in your mouth but before he got started on you he said, “You are right. I am a vampire.”

You spat the cloth out, “I knew it. I also would like to know your name as this may be my last moment and I would like to remember who will either save me or take my life. My name is y/n l/n.”

“The names Alucard Tepes and this is going to sting a little.” With that Alucard poured some alcohol on your wounds. (im sorry i dont know how helping ppl w medical stuff works :( 

You shifted and tried pouncing up, fighting the urge to let out a blood curdling scream. But Alucard pushed you down with his hands, shushing you gently. “I know, this hurts.” You could almost sense some love and actual concern in his voice. His brows knitted, “I promise, you are almost finished.” 

You looked deep into Alucard’s eyes. They were the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen. This man or vampire looked unreal. He looked made up, something from stories you read as a child, like a prince. You felt something go off within you. Not knowing if it was lust or something else but a fire erupted inside your soul as Alucard’s face inched closer to yours to get to work on your shoulder. His smell was intoxicating. Almost like a musk but yet something floral, fresh, mixed in. Your heart thumped faster at the contact. 

His plump lips quivered as they looked at your state. No way did he want this innocent soul as beautiful as you looked dying on his table. He already had to deal with a lot recently. He didn’t know why or understand but he had this inclination, this feeling, that he needed to keep you alive. He just had to. 

Unable to keep the scream at bay no more you let it out. Your veins protruding from your neck as you became dizzy and once again passed out.

Your eyes opened. Your body was aching. It felt like it went through war. You inhaled as you looked around again, but this time you were hoping things were not a dream as then Alucard would be fake. Remembering his name your head whipped to the side to see Alucard holding a wash cloth stained with blood. He was sound asleep. His head resting against his arm against the table. All the medical stuff was out and about as if he were still working on you. His back was arched at a odd position. 

“He must of fallen asleep while working on me,” you whispered to yourself. His hair sprayed out on his shoulders and table. Without a second thought you touched his hair lightly and you were shocked. It felt like silk upon your fingers! His golden eye lashes kissed his cheek as he snoozed so peacefully. You felt bad leaving him to worry for you and to be sleeping in an uncomfortable place. You felt you weren’t that deserving of such treatment.

You kicked your feet out and hopped off the table. Your feet pattered against the hard floor as you walked to Alucard. You snatched him a blanket you saw nearby and draped it over his tall, lean body. You smiled seeing how elegant and graceful he looked sleeping. 

You yawned, scratching your head as you looked upon the window and noticed it was raining. Surprisingly in this vampire but also a stranger’s house the rain seemed cozy and it made you feel at peace. It was dark in his house. The trees shook from the tiny wind and rain. 

“I must leave but I should thank Alucard for helping me with my wound last night. I probably wouldn’t have last without him.” Your mind wondered back to what happened at the river. Yes, Dracula was gone according to what the towns people said but why was his army still about, his monsters? It didn’t make sense to you. But what did you know? You were just a weak human living in a mysterious world you didn’t want any part of. 

You pulled out a chair and got to writing a thank you letter to Alucard, pulling out a pen, ink and a piece of paper.

“Dear Alucard. No, too direct. How about, to a savior? Too high and mighty.” Finally you had written your letter but it sounded very awkward and you were too much of a p*ssy to give it to Alucard. “Ugh this is hopeless.” You crumpled up the paper, throwing it on the floor by the garbage. 

You thought and thought and thought until an idea popped in your mind. “I know,” you snapped. “I’ll make him breakfast. My mother always says a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” You crossed your fingers, “lets just hope this man likes human food instead of hearts and blood.” You gulped. 

You rolled your sleeves up, washed your hands and brought out the pots and pans and butter. “I’m going to make toast, eggs, bacon, beans and mushrooms.”

You spiced up the food and placed them in a skillet. The sizzle satisfying your ears. The sun started to peak through the clouds as the aroma wafted through the house. You grinned, loving to cook and make a person happy with your hard work. “I hope he likes this.” You were almost finished when Alucard coughed behind you. 

You jumped, being in the zone. “Oh hi there,” you waved awkwardly. “My apologies if I woke you.”

“Uh, no I woke myself up,” his rough voice made your knees weak as it was still laced with sleep. He stretched, cracking some knuckles, yawning as well. “What I would like to know is what are you doing?”

“Well,” you started setting up the table cutely. “I wanted to say thanks for helping me back there. I was kind of a p*ssy to be honest and like a wuss so this is just a little thanks for all the help.”

Alucard didn’t know what to say so instead he just smiled. 

“Please, sit, sit, sit,” you pointed to the seats. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

Alucard awkwardly sat. Not ever having this type of service. He looked at you as you were preparing the finishing steps of your dish. The sun cascaded around you and you were illuminated like a goddess. You were breathtaking. Alucard blushed madly. You put everything on the table. Seeing Alucard’s expression you laughed, “are you alright?”

Alucard coughed, “yes, thank you for all of this. You really didn’t need to. It all looks beautiful.” He looked at the presentation. 

You took the seat beside Alucard. You could of sat anywhere else but you sat beside him. He almost couldn’t hear what you were about to say in that moment from how hard his heart was beating.  

“No need to thank me. I think we’ve done enough thanking and now its time to dig in.” You patted his hand. 

Alucard just looked at the food and he almost felt tears at his eyes. Nobody ever cared for him like this. 

“Is it okay? If its not to your liking I totally get it. You don’t have to eat it. I don’t even know if you like this stuff. I mean who knows maybe you only eat flowers and here I am serving you bacon and eggs.” You became flustered. 

“No, no, no this is lovely its just,” he choked back a cry. “Nobody has ever done anything like this for me, ever.”

You clutched onto his hand and gave him a beautiful smile. “Then that just means you have to eat double. As much and maybe more than what your stomach can hold.” You giggled.

Alucard blushed again as he started to eat quickly. Enjoying every moment of your company and food. “The beans are delicious.”

“Well I’m glad you liked them. Its my mum’s recipe, she always makes them like this.” You then recalled why you came on this journey in the first place. “My satchel!”

“Don’t worry, its safe.”

You raised your brow, “did you take a look?”

Alucard paused, “no, I would never.” He took a bite out of his bread. Chewing on the piece silently. “Maybe just a tiny peek.”

You pouted, “Nosy. I should of locked it.”

“Why do you have all those books in your bag anyways?” Alucard crossed his legs as he took a sip of his coffee. His light orbs staring intently at you. 

Seeing the rain start to become tiny droplets of rain you thought about your family and how you missed them. This was all for them. “My siblings you see are very ill,” your hand shook with anxiety. “My village is very poor and we are limited in resources, especially medicine. We’ve tried everything and nothing seems to work. They just seem to be getting worse. I’ve been researching and trying to find an answer and supposedly, I read that there is a certain flower that only grows in a specific area that may cure the illness. In the books there is a map and that’s why I was led to that river well more like I wanted to take a bath and that’s what led me to the river. But I’ve been on this trail for a while. I’m just, scared because it all depends on me. If I can’t find this flower, if I can’t find a cure and my family dies it will be my fault. I would have killed them.” You didn’t even realize it but you were crying. 

Alucard saw you were distressed and held onto your hand. He comforted you through your anxiety. Your teary eyes looked into his and he gave you a toothy smile, “I’ll help you find it.”

“What?” You rubbed your eyes.

“I know the place you need to go. I can guide you there. Besides the outside world is very dangerous for a beautiful girl such as yourself. I can see that this means a lot to you and I want to help.”

You dropped your fork and got out of your chair. “You mean it? You aren’t joking?”

Alucard chuckled, “I promise I am speaking truth.” Alucard flung his hand out to you. 

You quickly shook on it and shouted with enthusiasm, “deal!” You jumped up and down laughing as you hugged Alucard. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Can we please leave immediately then?”

“We can leave today.”

You danced, “yes. I’ll go change and get my things.” You brought the empty dishes to clean them as Alucard stood up with a smile on his face. 

You were something else, something different. A breath of fresh air in his depressing life. Maybe you were meant to be here. Maybe you were a sign. Either way Alucard thought that these couple of days were to be very exciting. Alucard was about to get ready when a piece of paper in the corner caught his eyes. It was crumbled. “Hmmm, what is this?” He bent down to pick it up and read the words. With just the first word to the letter his smile grew bigger and bigger. 

Alucard coughed as he raised the letter you wrote to him earlier but discarded high in the air, “Dear Alucard, to my savior. I would love for you to know that I am extremely appreciative for what you have done for me in saving my life-”

Your eyes almost popped out of your head. That letter was not supposed to be read by him especially. It was embarrassing. You dropped a plate in the sink and felt your whole world collapse. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die. 

“When I first saw you I thought you were a prince-” Alucard kept going until you couldn’t take it any longer. 

You sprinted and tried grabbing the letter out of his hand. “Alucard, give that to me. Now.”

“Oh you want this letter?” Alucard smirked. “You do sound like an obnoxious romantic whore.”

You gasped, “I do not! That was supposed to be my thank you letter and I didn’t like it and you weren’t supposed to read it. So give it back!” You jumped for it but Alucard raised it high in the air. “Alucard, give it to me.”

Alucard’s face came closer to yours as he pinned you against the table. “Why don’t you come and get it?”

You practically climbed him, snatching the letter out of his hand. “Aha!” But Alucard’s footing was off and he and you fell with a thud. 

The birds chirped lightly as Alucard laid under you and you fell on top of him, your arm bracing for the impact. Alucard held in his breath with a red blush as he looked at you so extremely close. You both held that position for what felt like forever. You eyes were wide in horror at the compromising position. 

You quickly stood up and were flustered. Forgetting where everything was. “Um, um, um. I’m going to go put my trip on so we can get ready for the clothes.” You quickly ran away. 

Alucard breathed quickly as he brushed back his long hair whispering the words. “My savior.” He noticed you were in such a panic mode that you forgot about your letter. It was left and Alucard was not going to leave or throw away evidence that someone saw him in such a good light. He loved that letter because it was from you. 

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[elsanna-shenanigans]

February Contest Submission #14: Valentine Vesuvius

words: ca. 4700 setting: mAU with accidental time travel lemon: no cw: homelessness

“Hey, you wanna get out of here?”

I turned to look at Elsa in confusion. Wasn’t this museum date her idea? She looked mischievous, her left eyebrow arched.

I opened my mouth. Shut it. Opened it. I glanced at the other families gathered in a loose arc around the museum tour guide who was currently droning on about some old emperor or another.

“Hell yeah,” I whispered.

Moments later we were giggling as we ran through a deserted hallway like school girls skipping class. Never mind that we were two adults in our upper-twenties who chose as well as paid to be at the museum.

We rounded a corner and found ourselves suddenly immersed in a dim room void of people, filled instead with spotlights on old pottery from Ancient Rome or something. Elsa spun to face me and took my hands in hers. I dragged my gaze from a vase depicting a mountain with people at its base, and met Elsa’s eyes.

“I’m so lucky to have you as my wife,” she said, gently squeezing my hands.

“I’m the lucky one,” any more words would have been cut off as Elsa cupped my face and kissed me.

She pulled away slightly and rubbed her thumb in a soft circle on my cheek. “Anna…”

My eyes were still closed from the intimate sensation, but I blinked them open. Why did she sound so sad? “Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked.

She took a deep, slow breath and let it out in a shaky sigh.

“I just… I want kids so bad, Anna.”

My heart broke. I nodded. “I know, Els. I do too.”

“I thought this tour would be a fun valentines date. I just didn’t expect there to be so many families. So many kids. I couldn’t… I couldn’t stand to be around them another second.” She shook her head. “It hurts too much.”

We had been trying everything we could the past couple of years, but the IVF wasn’t working and every adoption had fallen through. It was all getting so expensive, and even more frustrating.

I rubbed her arm. “Why is it so easy for straight people to accidentally create life, but when a couple of lesbians want kids it costs twenty thousand dollars and two left kidneys?”

“It’s not fair,” Elsa sighed.

“It’s not,” I said. “But hey,” I touched her chin, lifting her head up from its sad slouch. “We’re strong as fuck. We’re not going to give up.”

Elsa nodded.

“And until we do become parents,” I continued, “we are still perfect, and whole, and completely the best family I could ever imagine. Just the two of us.”

She smiled. “You’re right, Anna. With you by my side, there’s nothing else I could ever need. I hope I’ve never made you feel like you aren’t enough. You’re my everything; so much more than I deserve.” Pulling me close, she started sounding more like herself again.

“Don’t be silly,” I kissed Elsa quickly. “You deserve everything good in the world.” Another kiss. “And I love you.” Another. “So much.”

The last kiss was deepened by way of Elsa’s grip on the back of my neck. She took my lower lip between her teeth and flicked the tip of her tongue across it playfully, sending a shiver up my spine and heat shooting down my stomach.

I gasped as Elsa grabbed my waist and kissed my neck while she walked us toward a wall. Throwing my head back, I was relying on her to guide us. I couldn’t function when she was sucking on my neck, my pulse point like — that, ah! Jesus!

“Oops.”

I barely registered that my back hit something wobbly, but the last thing I heard was the unmistakeable sound of pottery crashing on the floor. I felt a flash of cold air run over my skin and then - nothing.

————————————-

When I came to, the first thing I felt was a piercing headache. I hadn’t even opened my eyes yet and I wished I could close them. Gripping my skull, I rolled around in the darkness behind my eyelids, wishing the high pitched shriek in my ears would fade. Then I noticed the bumpy texture digging into my back. Uhh… Why did the museum floor feel like it was made of rocky ground?

Perhaps more pressing: why was the rocky ground …trembling?

I stopped moving altogether and sure enough, the ground I was laying on was shaking. I cracked my eyes open only to be blinded by bright sky. This was definitely not the museum exhibit. Blinking rapidly, my eyes started to adjust to the light even as my headache pounded and begged me to close them, or better yet, knock myself back out.

While I waited for my vision to make sense, I scrambled to get my feet under me. This was easier said than done, the way the ground wouldn’t stop moving beneath my legs. Finally I was at least on all fours and stable enough to look around.

“Jesus Christ.” Was that a motherfucking volcano? I arched my neck to see the top of the mountain I was extremely close to. Pluming dark clouds surrounded its peak. What the hell happened to me?

I whipped my head around, swaying from the dizzy fit the motion sent me into. I was in sort of a vast, empty field of rocky, grassy terrain. There looked to be a bustling town just down the hill. No one else was around, except —

“Elsa!” I shrieked. I scrambled to my right, getting to my feet as I gained momentum. Rocks kept shifting under my bare feet and I tripped a couple of times before I reached where she was laying. I fell to my knees by her side, and rolled her onto her back.

“Elsa?” I tapped her cheek with my palm, patting it several times. “Els! Wake up!”

She groaned.

Relief washed over me. I kept nudging her until she came to. She groaned again. “Ugh… my head.”

“Shh, I know, it sucks.” I said, more to myself than to her, as I pulled her head into my lap. “Wait. Are you wearing a fucking toga?” I looked down at myself. “Am I wearing a fucking toga?!”

We were both wearing cream colored fabric gathered at the shoulders and the waist. As if being at the base of a volcano wasn’t enough of a wake up call, for some reason the wardrobe change was what pushed me over the edge. It felt like my throat was closing up as I started struggling to breathe. My lungs couldn’t fill; I took breaths faster and faster, but too shallow to help. Perfect time for a panic attack, Anna.

Slow down. I closed my eyes, gripping Elsa tightly to me. Breathe in.

I felt the fabric under my fingers, it was thick but soft. Breathe out.

I heard birds chirping their alarms in the distance, wind sweeping past, and small rocks settling into new places all around me. Breathe in.

I smelled… fresh, salty air, tainted by something like smoke or dust. Breathe out.

“Hey lady! Is she dead?”

My eyes snapped open. There was a young girl, about eight years old approaching us from down the hill. She held a basket and wore a similar tunic, but hers had been through a lot. It was tattered and dirty. The words she spoke were so strange - I understood them in my head but at the same time, they sounded… foreign to my ears.

I cleared my throat. “No, she’s just waking up,” I responded. My own words had the same strange quality to them when I spoke to the girl.

“Oh. Who are you? My name is Cassia.” She had dark hair chopped unevenly at her shoulders.

“What a pretty name!” I said, a million thoughts racing through my head. “I’m Anna, and this is my… this is Elsa.” I didn’t know where, or when, we were so I didn’t want to get us into any unnecessary trouble. “Where are your parents?”

“I don’t have any. I was just gathering some berries when the ground shook again. Did you do it?” She squinted at me suspiciously.

So there are earthquakes here often. “No, of course not,” I laughed, hopefully convincingly, even though I had never felt less like laughing. “Elsa and I are traveling from afar, but …we got lost and hit our heads when the earth shook. Can you tell us where we are, exactly?”

Cassia gave me a strange look. “This is Pompeii, silly. What other city is at the bottom of the volcano?”

Pompeii?

….Holy fucking Vesuvius…

———————————————————

Once Elsa was fully conscious and aware of our situation, we decided to take Cassia up on her offer to show us to her home, which turned out to be more of a fort in the outskirts of town. It was about midday and the kid was generous enough to let us hang out in her home while she went back out to keep foraging, now that the tremors had slowed down enough.

We sat on the dirt floor after Cassia left, both staring off into the distance, in shock. How the fuck did this happen?

“So…” Elsa began.

“We’re in fucking Pompeii!” I exclaimed.

“What the fuck!” Elsa said.

And then we laughed, because, honestly, what else could we do at that point? We laughed uncontrollably. We laughed at our clothes. We laughed at the earthquake, at the damn volcano, at the funny way all of the words sounded.

When we couldn’t laugh anymore, I fell into Elsa’s torso and we sat, half snuggled up on the dirt floor of this impoverished orphan’s dwelling place.

“What year do you think it is?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Elsa said. “Does it matter?”

“I mean,” I glanced at her sideways, “I sure hope it’s not 79 AD.”

“Is that when it happened? How do you even know that?”

“I told you I always liked that section of art history.”

“Hmm,” Elsa sighed. “Well how do we even figure it out? We can’t just ask someone. Do they even use that system right now? Like the AD and BC stuff?”

I shrugged. “I almost don’t even need to be told though, you know? Just by the way that smoke looked above the volcano… I have a bad feeling.” Elsa looked concerned too. “Maybe we could ask around to find out if it usually does that when there’s an earthquake here. We could get a sense for how much we need to panic.”

“That’s a good idea. And if it’s the worst case scenario, then there’s the question of, do we worry about evacuating or do we figure out how to get us the fuck back home before this place is history?”

Elsa rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I wish we had a clue how it happened. I don’t know how we’re getting back if we don’t know what sent us here in the first place.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “We should try to think back on everything that happened in those last few minutes we can remember.”

“Well, we were in that room with the… what was it? Pottery?”

“Mhmm,” I continued, “And you were kissing the life out of me until we bumped into something and it fell. Oh! I wonder if it was that vase I was looking at.”

“What vase?” Elsa asked.

I rubbed my head, “Think think think. Um, it was clay. It had people on it. Oh! And a mountain! A volcano! It had to be that vase. It must have been found in Pompeii, and when we broke it while we were making out, it sucked us into its original time. Or something like that.”

“Sure, that sounds about right for how today’s going,” Elsa said. “But then, why didn’t it come through with us? I didn’t see any clay fragments where we landed on that hill.”

“Me neither,” I frowned. “Or maybe it couldn’t come along because here in Pompeii it already exists! Maybe we just have to find where it is now and recreate what happened before.”

“There’s a thought…” Elsa said. “So we just have to search the entire city for a vase with a volcano and people on it.”

“That sounds fun! Can I help?”

Elsa and I both turned to the doorway, startled. How long had Cassia been standing there?

——————————————————————-

Too long. Cassia had been standing there too long, and she had as many questions for us as we had for her.

Before long she knew we were accidentally-time-traveling wives from almost two thousand years in the future and Pompeii was doomed; and we in turn knew it was indeed the 79th year, no the dark volcano clouds were not normal for an earthquake, and the entire city was already scrambling to evacuate. I had a terrible feeling that Elsa and I caused the earthquake through our rough landing, effectively dooming Pompeii. Also, Cassia was eight years old like I had guessed, had been living on her own since she was five and a half, and she wanted nothing more than to help us find the vase we needed.

“That’s really sweet of you,” I said, placing a hand on her arm, “But you have to promise that as soon as we find the right vase you’ll get yourself to safety.”

Cassia glanced to the side as she said, “Promise.”

I was a little concerned about the validity of that promise but decided I’d try again later. First we were off to a shop that sold souvenirs for all the rich vacationers that visited Pompeii.

It was a short walk until we made it into the more touristy, upscale part of the city. Here, everyone was running around like chickens with their heads cut off. In and out of homes, carrying personal possessions, yelling for neighbors, yelling at the sky.

We almost lost sight of Cassia several times but we managed to follow her to the shop she talked about. We ducked under the arched doorway into the small space. It was dark, and seemed to be usually lit by candles like the lonely one over to the side that hadn’t been extinguished. Elsa went to retrieve it for us.

Using the single flame to see, we wandered around the space as a little pack, checking out all kinds of little trinkets made from stone and clay. Many were volcano-related, but it all seemed so small compared to the vase I remembered.

“Cassia,” I said, “Do you think this place has any vases that are… this big?” I motioned my hands around to describe the size.

“Oh. Why didn’t you say so? This place has nothing that big, but it could be…” she tilted her head in thought. “Oh, it’s probably Oaken’s! Duh.”

More winding through the chaotic streets behind Cassia. This walk actually went very fast, and before we knew it we had arrived at another shop. This one was bigger and well-lit inside. We all walked in. I immediately noticed that there were many vases of a familiar style and size, making my heart leap in hope.

“Not open for business or looting!” A voice called from deep in the shop.

“We just have a question!” I yelled back. “It’s urgent!”

“And we mean no harm!” Elsa added.

The man grumbled as he made his way to us, accompanied by the sound of sandals crunching on clay shards. Poor guy must have lost some of his pottery to the earthquake earlier.

“What’s the question?” A very large man appeared from behind a display wall. “Oh Cassia, dear. Why didn’t you say you were here?”

Cassia was standing half behind me. Was she suddenly shy or something?

I spoke up, “Cassia led us here. We think you can help us. We’re looking for a certain vase. We… saw it on a recent vacation but didn’t buy it, and then…”

“Then later we realized we lost a ring,’ Elsa chimed in. “We think it might’ve fallen in this vase.”

The pottery man sighed, “Well that’s a long shot, but what did the vase look like?”

“It was about yay-big, and it depicted the volcano with people underneath,” I explained excitedly.

He raised an eyebrow, “That’s about half the vases I make. You know this is a tourist town at the base of a volcano.”

I thought harder. There was a chip of color I could almost see in my memory. “Um, well, it might’ve had a sort of turquoise color by the rim?”

“Oh!” The man stood up straight. “In that case, I know the exact vase. Unfortunately I sold it about six months ago. Real rich family. Their vacation home is at this address,” he scribbled onto a small stone. “I don’t think they’ve been in town the last few months. With all the chaos out there, nobody would notice if you slipped in to look for the ring. Just make it quick.”

Soon we were walking again. When we entered an empty alley I spoke up, “Hey Cassia, why were you so quiet back there?”

She turned to face us while she kept walking, backwards, “Oaken is nice, but I have to act shy and sad around the people with money, so they’ll feel bad and give me food. I learned pretty fast that they don’t care about a mouthy troublemaker as much as a helpless little girl.”

Wow. I couldn’t imagine having to learn something that depressing as a homeless five year old. Cassia was a strong kid, and she somehow managed to seem happy and nonchalant about her struggles.

Elsa looked around at the quiet homes we were walking between. “Why are some parts of the city so calm while other ones are in chaos?”

Cassia shrugged. “Only the richest people will get to evacuate in time. The rest of us have learned to stay in our homes and hope we make it through whatever comes. There’s no point in panicking around the city because we would never make it onto a ferry anyway.”

The rest of our walk was completed in silence. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for this girl. I wished there was some way we could help her before we (hopefully) escaped the city ourselves. Judging by the look on Elsa’s face, her heart was breaking for Cassia, too. I met Elsa’s eyes and we shared a look. We definitely had to do something for the girl.

Suddenly we were standing in front of a grand structure made of stone. It was no little hut; more like an ancient mansion. This was somebody’s vacation home? Jeez! These people in 79 AD sure knew how to live lavishly.

“Looks like he was right,” Elsa said. “There’s no one around.”

“Wow!” Cassia was already walking through the front door. “Check this out! They have a river in their house!”

Elsa and I stepped inside and saw what the kid meant. There was a decorative skinny pool of calm water that stretched in a line from the front room of the house to somewhere beyond the next doorway. Pompeii style skylights illuminated the open space with the ashy, dreariness of the sky above.

We passed the minimalist entry room into the next space. Here, there was a staircase to the left, a gathering area, and more doorways.

“Hey Cassia, why don’t you head upstairs and see if there’s any vases up there while we finish looking down here?”

“Okay!” the girl was excited by her solo mission and took off up the stone steps.

Once she was gone, I rushed to Elsa. “Come ‘ere, baby,” I said as we hugged each other close.

She let out a sigh of relief. “I was gonna lose it if we didn’t get to talk soon. Alone.”

“I know,” I said. “This is a lot to go through without being able to actually talk.”

She nodded. “About Cassia…” I knew exactly where she was going.

“We have to take her with us,” I finished.

“She has nowhere to run. If she’s left here she’ll be dead by tomorrow night.”

“I know, Els.” I grabbed her hands. “You don’t have to convince me. It’s what we have to do.”

Elsa continued, “And I’m not saying that we have to adopt her or anything, but I just want her to be safe. Once we’re back we can find somewhere for her to—”

“We are fucking raising that child, Elsa.” I interrupted.

“Oh thank god,” she said, as I pulled her in close once more. “Do you think we should tell her?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“What if she doesn’t want to come? We’re running out of time, so maybe we shouldn’t give her the option if she might fight it,” she explained. “This is the only way she’ll be safe but if she doesn’t want to leave Pompeii, there’s no way we could make her.”

“Given that she’ll have to hold onto us while we kiss and break the vase…” I added.

“Or we grab her at the last second.”

“Right,” I said. “Either way, you have a point. We shouldn’t give her the option in case she would choose to stay.”

Elsa’s face suddenly went pale as she pointed behind me. I turned to see Cassia standing with her arms crossed.

“If you two wanna have a kid you’re going to have to learn how to talk quieter. It’s so easy to eavesdrop on you!”

My mouth was stuck open while I tried to form words.

“What did you hear?” Elsa asked in a low voice.

Cassia’s demeanor changed from snarky to… almost shy. “Um… Well, if it helps you to know, I’d really like to go with you. Away from here. Please.”

“Of course,” I stepped forward and wrapped her up in a big hug.

“We’re going to get you out of here,” Elsa joined in. “And if you want, you never have to be lonely again.”

A soft voice came from the middle of the hug, “I’d like that.”

“Now let’s find that damn vase,” I said, pulling away from them.

“Language.” Elsa looked at me pointedly, with a glimmer in her eye.

Cassia laughed at Elsa. “I already know how to swear, weirdos.”

This kid was going to be an adventure.

——————————————-

A few minutes later, we found the vase in a bedroom. It was sitting on a side table near a window, which was actually just a square cut out of the wall. We were going to have to hurry with the way the sky was looking out there. I was not about to let us get buried in burning ash right after vowing to expand our family to include our new little Pompeii friend.

“Alrighty!” I said, clapping my hands together and rubbing my palms. “So… now what?”

���What did you do to get here?” Cassia said. “Kiss a bunch? Ew.”

Elsa cleared her throat. Yeah this was a little more awkward than I hoped.

“Um, yeah, so,” I began, “maybe you can stand right next to the vase here, Cass. And then Elsa and I will…” I glanced at my reddening wife, “do our thing, and when we bump into the vase, at the last second, you grab onto us.”

Cassia stared at me.

“Does that makes sense?” I asked. “We only have one shot at this.”

She blinked. “Oh. Yeah, that sounds easy. You just… you called me Cass.”

Shit. “Sorry, was that ok?” I grimaced.

“I like it,” she grinned. “I like it a lot.”

“Awesome!” Phew. I didn’t want to fuck things up with our kid before we even got home. “So, you stand right here and just ignore everything about what we’re doing except for where we are. Then grab us as soon as—”

“As soon as you hit the vase, yeah. Got it.” Cassia pushed us toward the doorway. “Go be gross.” Elsa and I stumbled over to the open entryway of the room. We ducked out of Cassia’s view for a moment.

We both leaned on the wall and took a second to breathe. I gazed over at Elsa. She had a lot of emotions running across her face; embarrassment, relief, worry. I took her hand, causing her to look at me. “Hey.” I said. “Whatever happens this time… we did everything in our power to fix things.”

“I know,” Elsa sighed. “There’s just so much to process. We probably caused the deaths of everybody here, but at least we could save one person - and that’s if this even works to send us all home, which if it doesn’t, means we’re all going to die the same fate, which maybe we deserve—!”

I cut her off with a kiss: short, but long enough to send my message. “Shhh babe. It won’t do any good to obsess over that right now. If we survive, we will absolutely be marching ourselves to therapy, but for right now, we gotta get in there and get our butts back home.”

She nodded, her shoulders relaxing a little as if some of the tension eased away.

“Now, you gonna kiss me or what?” I asked with a smirk.

——————————-

I flung my arm wildly about, searching for the bottle of Tylenol on my bedside table. Would that even be strong enough for the fierce pounding in my skull? Instead of my familiar nightstand, I felt cold linoleum floor. I blinked my eyes open. Dim yellow spotlights gave a soft glow in the dark space around me.

Oh.

It all came back, just like that. I rolled over and saw Elsa sprawled out next to me —why am I always the first to wake up?— and the small form of a girl just beyond her. Cassia! She was clothed in a very sensible t-shirt and leggings combo. Thank goodness she didn’t pop into the museum in her old tattered cloth.

It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed our little …blip, so I quickly slid my two girls across the floor to keep us out of view from the hallway. As I pulled Cassia by her wrists, I noticed the vase sitting on a podium, looking exactly as it had back in Pompeii. It had bright colors and no evidence that almost 2,000 years had passed, or that it had technically shattered twice. Huh. Isn’t that the weirdest thing?

I sat on the floor next to Elsa and Cass while they continued to sleep off their travels, and I wondered how the vase actually did what it did. Was it a magic vase? Did that guy Oaken know he made something so powerful? Did he make other enchanted pottery? Something told me I would never have the answers to those questions. I certainly wasn’t in any rush to go back and ask him. Nope, ancient time traveling wasn’t really my thing after all.

It wasn’t long before Elsa woke up, and Cassia wasn’t far behind. We probably should’ve prepared her a little for life in the 21st century, as the simple museum lightbulbs were freaking her out. Just you wait, little lady. You have no idea how much your world has changed!

Once we calmed her down a bit, Elsa and I held hands with Cass, and began walking out of the room that changed our lives. Well, we took a few steps anyway, before I halted.

“What’s that noise?” I asked. “That jangly noise?” It was coming from the kid. I raised my eyebrow at her.

Realization dawned on Cassia’s face as her hands found her pants pockets… and pulled out fistfuls of glittering jewelry. “Oops?” she said, nervously.

Elsa’s jaw dropped. “Did you take those from the mansion?”

“I found them upstairs,” Cassia said, looking down at her clean black tennis shoes. “It was all just laying there, and the world was ending.”

“It’s okay,” I said quickly, not wanting her to think we were upset. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

I wondered if those pieces of jewelry had ever been recovered from the archeological site. I could see the headlines now: Priceless Ancient Pompeii Artifacts Vanish from Museum! I chuckled to myself, shaking my head.

“Hmm?” Elsa prompted.

“Ah, nothing,” I said with a smile. Then I pointed to the red, glowing Exit sign above a nearby doorway. “Hey, you wanna get out of here?”