#i only drank half before i forgot about it and had to pour it down the sink but girl when i tell you i RAN to the bathroom

[fingertipsmp3]

Do you ever just like. Do something CATEGORICALLY stupid

[daenysthedreamersblog]

STRANGERS

Don't talk to strangers or you might fall in love

Freezer bride, your sweet divine

You devour like smoked bovine hide

How funny, I never considered myself tough

summary: you've won the hunger games, and ready to return home in peace, but president snow has other plans for you, and he won't take no for an answer.

pairings: president!coriolanus snow x district6!reader

warnings: MDNI!, blood, violence, murder, manipulation, power imbalance, coercion, heavy drinking, non-con male masturbation, non-con oral sex (m receiving), roses ( pls let me know if i forgot any!)

notes: im new at publishing on tumblr so pls be patient with me! also new at writing in second person POV so sorry for any mistakes! hope u enjoy! there will be more parts coming soon!

Blood splatters onto your face.

"Please," He mouthed underneath you, but the knife was plunging down anyways. You couldn’t hear it.

The crunch of a sternum bone.

Silence. Cold silence rang in your ears and you blinked climbing off of the body a distant boom rupturing around the arena, but you only felt to shake of it, the sudden vibrational change in the air. You looked around the sun blaring down onto you as you turned away from the dead boy, you stumble forward, knee giving out from under you before you collapsed to the ground rolling onto your back staring upward. The blood oozed from the wound on your leg, it stung, it stung harshly, but it was welcomed.

It was over. Everything. It was over and all you were met with was blood stained hands and silence. You could smell the rot forming in your soul.

Boots were pounding into the ground, surrounding you, guns pointing at your body. Hands wrapped around your biceps pulling you, dragging you out of purgatory and into the looming light ahead.

~

"Congratulations." He whispered placing the small crown on your head, a dainty gold thing, his hands lingering too long on a wisp of your hair. The games had cut off your tongue it seems words never rising to the surface. His hand was under you chin, "Smile. You've won." It felt like a command so the corners of your mouth tugged up as the camera flashed upon you, shaking hands with your esteemed president.

"Thank you." His jaw ticked at your slip, the lack of his title, but he shook your hand anyways as Lucky Flickerman’s crew zoomed in for their close up. The motions were clear, set into place as you read the prepared words off the telecom. If you could get through this then you could return home where it was simple and safe. You would be okay once the Capitol train dropped you off in District 6 where you can happily watch it all disappear forever.

A hand slid to the small of your back, your spine locking up as another photo flashed of the two of you. Your smile stumbled as his shoulder pressed into yours heat pouring off of him where your bodies collided.

You met his eyes, face half turned towards each other, and your cheeks burned with a flush.

The only good thing about winning was finally eating and drinking real food again.

You downed cups and flutes of any alcohol you could find shoved into your hands drowning out the sound of people talking, congratulating you. It was cruel really how when the film of a camera was replaced it sounded like small bones cracking, so your drank more. Why were they so thankful? They arranged for you to be there...they sent you to either die or kill for them. Because some great-great grand-whatever rebelled, so now you had to live with the consequences of someone else actions.

Your brain was beyond heavy, mouth no doubt stained red from the wine. One more day, one more day and you would be going home to die of hopefully natural causes some other time. One more day and you would be out of this hateful city, away from theses entitled, hateful people. You felt it then, the dryness in your throat, the angry water welling in your eyes. You set the empty cup down, stumbling away from the party silent tears beginning to unwarrantedly roll down your cheeks. You gripped the railing as you climbed the stairs towards the mansion doors needing to hide away from the world, and when you reached the top you pushed it open harshly. The heels of your shoes clicked on marble floor in an empty hallway, a door slamming shut behind you as you kept moving. The hallway was spinning like you were stuck in a concrete mixer turning and turning and turning.

You tripped over your foot catching yourself by throwing a hand out to the wall, collapsing onto a small cushioned bench. The groan left your mouth as you slid out of your shoes feet aching, you felt the long gash of the scar the District 2 tribute had given you. It was taking a while to fully close, the wound on you soul would never heal either it seemed.

More tears. More anger.

"You should be celebrating." The cold, calculating voice cut through the air.

You could only roll your head upward, too drunk, too ashamed to be afraid at the surprise. Fresh tears rolled down your cheek. "I did."

Footsteps were coming towards you, slow, like the wolf hunting a doe, and that was when your body alerted, when he had stepped into your space, head snapping towards him. He looked as calm and collected as his tone, a rich black suit fitted to his lean body, a hand lazily in his pocket as his legs bracketed in your knee. "Then why are you in here? I have a whole party out there for you and you hide away in my home.”

"Too noisy." You stared up at him with red rimmed eyes as he towered over, your vision fuzzy at the corners.

His knuckle came up to your cheek collecting the tear freshly traveling down makeup covered skin. "You should be celebrating." He repeated the moisture glistening on his bone. "Not crying."

You sniffed, your voice cracking from crying, "Sorry sir."

"Mr. President." He corrected.

"Sorry, Mr. President sir." You cleared your throat offering him a fake smile.

His hand came under your chin, a pinky resting on your jaw his thumb tracing puffy, wine stained lips, "That's a good girl. Too much wine I suspect hmm?" You only nodded as he held you face, held your life with it too. You might have won his games, but he could still ruin everything, ruin the little family left back home. He had always made that clear to everyone; it wasn’t a shock people started dying soon after they crossed him.

"Yes. Mr. President, sir.” For some reason another tear slipped out with a wide eyed blink.

"You look so pretty when you cry." He traced over your lip one more time gently pushing in until the pad of his thumb pressed against your tongue. You heard the wet noise of his lips parting, as he took a quiet deep breath your teeth grazing his skin. Then he popped it out, bought it to his mouth, sucking gently on your leftover wine. "Come." He wrapped his arm around your bicep pulling you to your feet in front of him. "Let's get you some food, introduce you to some more friends of mine, and then bed." Two hands stroked down your hair holding your head between his palms. "How does that sounds my little victor?"

A dark gaze lingered in his eyes that there was no way around what he wanted, no telling him no. So you let him bend down and slip your shoes back on keeping your face towards the opposite wall. ”Yes Mr. President, sir.” His hand lingered too long on your bare ankle before he rose.

He smiled, a snake like gleam in it, like he had finished wrapping his body around his victim to suffocate it. One more day, and then you were done. He could introduce you to whoever he liked, feed you whatever he wanted, but come tomorrow on that beautiful train ride home the Capitol, the games would be a distant traumatizing memory, and he would just be a face on a screen come next year.

He plucked the white rose off the front of his suit jacket, took the pin out, and tucked it behind your ear to sit prettily in your hair.

His hand wrapped around your waist causing you to grip his forearm to stumble out into the party once more. Your eyes scanned the party, catching on a young girl, the winner from District 4. Her name started with an M, but you couldn’t find the rest of it in you hazy brain. The only thing you could focus on was the sad frown etched upon her pretty face as President Snow dragged you through his party.

6 months later

You wiped dirt off on your pants standing up to admire the blooming garden spread out in front of you. A smile flittered onto your face for only a moment before it fell staring at the wilting leaves on top of wet soil. They had fallen no doubt during a weeding or pruning or plain decay, but they were there ready for the earth to absorb them for nutrients.

Did the arena absorb their decaying bodies too or were they flown away somewhere else? Did they go back to their families so they could rest in peace?

You shook the thought grabbing gardening tools and the water can heading back to the house. Time was helping, the white noise of the district was helping, the trains going by were helping. The only reminder you had ever been carted away...well that and the large sum you had been gifted upon winning. You decided to ration it, save it but comfortably. It was the only thing truly stopping you from drowning yourself in alcohol or morphling, and the disappointed look your father had given you when they had carried you off the train, too wasted to walk. You took up gardening soon after the initial withdrawing, rotting period needing to keep you hands, your mind busy.

The scent of vanilla hit you as soon as you entered the house your body freezing on the threshold. It was a warm vanilla scent, which meant your mother had made tea, which meant there was company. You set your tools down, peeling off you mud stained boots. Your mother laughed as you slowly continued down the hall, the sound muffled by the kitchen wall you had yet to curve around to enter the kitchen. Alarms shot off in your head, the hair on your neck standing up knowing it wasn't anyone from District 6.

"Mother." You called seeing the outline of her at the table.

"Darling." Your mother smiled as you turned the corner, eyes flitting over to the man across the table from her sipping on his tea. A fresh bouquet of white roses sat in a new vase at the center of the table. "We have a guest."

"Mr. President." Your mouth dried out, feet heavy, gluing you to the middle of the kitchen. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Your mother only stood up rushing towards you, taking your hands to sweetly drag you to the table. "Come sit, my darling bluebell." She forced you into an empty chair around the modest circular table, a plaid green table cloth covering it. You kept eyes on him as she poured tea into the only empty cup. Once the kettle was down she discreetly tried to wipe dirt off your face, "Always covered in something from your little garden."

President Snow mouth quirked up. "Garden?"

You only managed a nod. ”It was a small little thing, something to help…” Her eyes dropped, “Something to keep her busy, and well before you knew it it had taken up most of the lawn." Another discreet pat on the cheek. "I have never been more proud than when I see her out there working on it." She chuckled, "Well besides when you put the tiara on her head." You inwardly cringed at the word tiara, at the reminded of what had been done to earn it.

"My grandmother grew roses." He motioned to the red one he worse pinned to his blue suit. His eyes met yours, "Do you?" A small nod as steam swirled up from the tea that would never be drank, "May I see them?"

Your mother stood up answering, "Of course." Her hands came upon you shoulders, "Go change and show our lovely President." You pushed the chair back using it as an escape for the moment, "Wash your face, and put on that pretty blue sun dress." You didn't answer, only walked back down the hall to your room finally able to breath normally away from his suffocating presence. What was he doing all the way out here? You had figured, had clung, to the fact you would never have to see him, or the Capitol again, and now he was here invading your home.

After washing your shaking hands and face, digging the dirt out of your nails, and braiding your hair back did you put that stupid sundress on and walk back out. Your mother was standing by the door a forced smile on her lips, "Yes sir, no sir." She reminded you, pulling small tendrils of hair loose around your face. "Don't speak unless spoken to."

"I know." You told her, forcing her hands away from your face reciting what your father and mother had both instilled in you. "I am grateful for what you've done for us President Snow."

"Mr. President Snow, sir." She pinched your cheeks to give them color then let you step around her and out of the house.

He was standing near the edge of the garden just before the walkway split separating each sections. "It truly does take up most of the lawn." He smiled holding out his arm for you. You slowly allowed him to hook it under his elbow to lead down the walkway. "It smells divine."

"Thank you." You swallowed, "Mr. President, sir."

He only smirked, "Your mother raised a well mannered woman."

You offered him a shy smile, ”My father and mother always instilled proper etiquette as best as they could. They emphasized respect and dutifulness."

"Important traits to have." He agreed. He was Capitol, he was the president, no doubt relishing in the fact district folks weren't born with those traits, they had to have it beat into them.

His hand clamped around yours, trapping it in his arm. Your breaths shook, don’t stutter. "My roses are just this way." You motioned up the path for him to lead in that direction.

The rose bush could have looked better, but it had always been a work in progress, a difficult flower to manage, and your heart had never truly been fond of roses. Red and yellow seeds were the only color you could acquire so the colors sometimes missed their mark or died all together. “Troublesome for you?” There was no hiding the disappointment in his tone.

“Yes.” An embarrassed response. "I'm tempted to rid myself of them."

"Hmm," He stepped forward fingers running along the soft petals. "I have a garden full of white roses, I brought some for you today."

You gave him a small smile. "Thank you. I'm sure my mother adores them."

"They're for you, not her." He flatly told you a sneer on his face. "A gift of sorts to my favorite little victor." He smirked down at the bush plucking a perky red rose from its stem. "Or what did she call you?" He turned back towards you, "Her darling bluebell?"

The blush bit at your cheeks, "Thank you. Mr. President sir." He smiled deeply tucking the stem of the rose behind your ear rooting it into the braid. "They are lovely." I lied. The scent of roses overtook the air to the point you felt dizzy with it, felt them swallowing you whole like he did.

"I do hope your mother won’t mind looking after it all.” He sighed his hand running down your arm as blood drained out of you, the question sitting leaden in your mouth. "We're trying something new, something Dr. Gaul believed would bring good publicity to the games." You chewed on your cheek, biting the refusal back. You remembered hearing about her death a year or two ago. "A victory tour of sorts." Both hands were on your arms holding you in front of him, "You'll go district to district letting them celebrate you and then finish at the Capitol. I'm going to throw you another party."

Oh

His hand came under your chin tilting your face up to him, "How does that sound my little bluebell?"

"Okay." You whispered because it was what was supposed to be said to him.

He beamed, "Such a good girl." His smile fell, "Since this is the first time we're doing it I'll be going with you of course to make sure everything goes smoothly."

Ice coated you. How long would this be? Would he ever let you remain in peace? Would the garden wither and die in the time you would be gone? Why did he stare like that?

You only nodded the obedience in your spine locking into place.

It wasn't horrible. The train was comfy and reminded you of home, the rumbling sound it made, the smell of the smoke and gasoline, the horn blaring through the night. They had written words, of course, to say at every district, reciting from a script how sorry you were for their losses and how thankful you are for the Capitol and their generosity. President Snow talked the most which was ironically a godsend since you didn't want to speak at all.

Mostly, there was food, tons of food...and wine.

You more self-indulgent habit to make the time go by smoother. Even more so now because you could, because it was free, because your parents weren't here to shame you. You would stop once you got home; you had done it before. When the tour was over, you would stop, you would go back home, relish in the normalcy, the garden, where it was safe. Where no one could find you.

Snow wouldn't be on the train ride home.

It unnerved you that he was here simply a few train cars down, eating, sleeping, plotting murder no doubt, planning more games. It only made you swig from the bottle more to shove the anxiety down.

You had crawled in the train car window, a comfy seat under it, curling you feet under you to watch the night blur past. Each bump comforted you, like you were in the older train cars carting people around the district. The moon wasn't out making any outline impossible to see, so you closed your eyes, pretending to hear the bustling square at home. You took another drink of wine savoring the lazy feeling coating your body.

The door slid open no doubt an Avox coming to do some chore, so you didn’t even bother to look. "You didn't come to dinner." Your head snapped up seeing Snow standing in the door a tray of food in his hands, "They said you only grabbed a bottle of wine and left."

"I wasn't hungry." Not a lie, you had felt ill since leaving District 9 the tributes faces beginning to gnaw at you once more. You had survived, and they hadn’t, and it felt wrong. "Mr. President, sir."

He wasn't wearing his normal suit instead a pair of dress pants, and a starched white button up, the top two buttons undone. His immaculate blonde hair was slightly mused a stray curling piece falling onto his forehead. "Come eat with me." You weighed the options before unfolding your legs out and turning to slid off the sill. You tugged at the nightgown they had shoved in the closet for sleep, a soft thin robe covering your shoulders over it. They hadn’t allowed you to bring any clothes from home. His eyes glanced up your body as you pulled it tighter around you.

"Excuse my appearance Mr. President, sir." You sat down across from him.

"No need." He only smiled as he pushed the tray. "Do you like the train?"

You nodded picking at the food, "It reminds me of home. We used to live by the test track before it moved, and it used to rumble the house. I used to hate it growing up, but now it seems to have grown on me."

"I bet it has." You should enjoy the food more, shovel it down until it was nothing. Your family had never suffered too much within the district not like the others, like 10,11,12... but it wasn't exactly always easy. The Capitol was always cramming food down your throat before and after the games, before you had reveled in it, the after...it tasted like dust in my mouth sometimes. You set the fork down pushing the half eaten tray away, but he only pushed it back. "Eat, please." You began to open your mouth in protest, but his jaw ticked. "Eat." A command, "All of it."

You watched his face, bottom lip trembling at the new tone he was using. It was bound to come out, but you had been so kind, always listened. You slowly began eating again forcing each bite until nothing remained, until your chest was tight with a full stomach. You took a sip of water. Always thank him, your mother had whispered on your way out of the door, Even if you are not thankful.’ “Thank you, Mr. President sir."

"You are so good to me, my little bluebell." He leaned forward the darkness engulfing the blue in his eyes. "Can you do something for me?" You made yourself nod even-though fear was trickling down your skin. He motioned with his head, "Go lie down on the bed."

The color drained from your face, "Wh-What?"

Don't stutter.

You cursed inwardly for the slip. ”Be my good girl and go lie down on the bed." His grin widened, “I won’t say it again.”

By the time your knee hit the bed tears had slipped over, you tried to stop them, but they welled anyways as you turned to look at him. He stalked towards you unbuttoning his pants, unzipping them, so you forced your gaze upward taking in the sounds of rustling. His hands pushed the robe down your shoulders letting it pool onto the bed. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the words to stop him as his fingers trailed along your bare shoulders, along your collarbones, up your neck. "Spit." He held out his hand. You swallowed, pulling the liquid back up and spit into his palm watching him bring it between his legs. You forced yourself to not look down, not look at what his hand was doing with a large length, to not look as he slid his hand along it. His other hand came up to your face, once again dragging across your bottom lip, pushing his finger further in, hooking it onto your bottom teeth. "Suck on it." He growled. You blinked fresh tears out before letting your tongue poke and lick up his finger, swirling around his knuckle listening to his pants. A cry of protest sat in your lungs, but would it matter? Were you always bound to be at his mercy, cursed to obey his whims to exert his power. “You listen so good." His head fell back a little the small groan hiding the sounds of him stroking himself. “Will you take my cock good too?”

"Please." You whimpered against his hand finding the smallest resistance in yourself at his words. "Please sir...I'm a virgin. I-I don't-!"

He shoved you back onto the bed with a growl his knees straddling your thigh as he pumped his hand faster and faster groaning into the air as two fingers invaded your mouth thrusting along your tongue. You felt violated, but all you could do was lie there and take it, let him do whatever he was doing because you were good, because he was the president and you had to obey. You closed your eyes tears burning your skin on the way his movements shook your body, until finally he stilled warmth shooting over your skin.

You finally breathed as he removed his fingers and stepped away. You lied there, listening to him straighten his clothes back on. "Don't change. Sleep in that." You glanced down at the white clumps running down your nightgown, some even drying to your exposed chest.

He stared at you expectantly. Thank him, even when you're not thankful. "Thank you Mr. President, sir.”

His grin was haunting as he left.

The rest of the tour went unbothered. He only occasionally came back to repeat those events, but each time it got a little easier as you began to know what to expect, each time you dared to look a little bit more. Sometimes even getting lost in the way his hand glided across his glistening cock covered in your spit. On the rare nights, you even gazed upward at him, at his hooded eyes, sweat dripping down his forehead, tongue between his teeth. You even began to listen to the noises he made, the heavy grunts, the soft groans and grit of his jaw, his vulgar words at you when his eyes suddenly met yours making you look away with heat in your cheeks.

And then he would cum over your body.

You threw up after the first night only forcing it to stay on your body because he had said so. After that it became easier to withstand the feeling, the warmth, the smell. You realized after a few times it gave off a scent you had only attributed to him, you only knew that because he often stood so close to you. It was so mild and hidden that you could only tell when you brought some close to your nose, and since it was already there you tasted it and you figured his skin might taste like that too.

It was fine, until you finished the tour of District 2. The boy's face stared down at you, and you remembered how it looked covered in blood.

Please!

The crunch of bone.

You could barely get through the reading, crying halfway through before someone had to usher you to the side. Snow was angry; you could see it in his dark eyes but maybe he could find pity. You had been so kind, so good.

It didn't matter by the time he found you curled into the corner of my room you were covered in smeared make up and tears. You couldn't even take off the stupid pink dress they had given you. He stood there for a moment taking you in then he grabbed you by the hair yanking you up onto the bed. Then he reeled back and slapped you across the face so hard your head snapped to the side. "You were very bad today bluebell."

"I-I..."

Another slap the other way. "Don't stutter."

Your cheek was stinging, "I'm sorry." A pause, and then another hard slap stars split your vision. "I'm sorry Mr. President, sir." You closed your eyes waiting for more but then you heard the familiar noise of his pants unbuttoning and your body began to lay itself back like it had registered before you did. He only darkly chuckled as he pulled you back up and shoved you to your knees in front of him, "I know you didn't mean to break the rules. Right?” You nodded, “And why do I know that?”

"Because I'm your good girl, Mr. President, sir." You stared up at him with red cheeks and pouting lips.

He groaned, his hard length pressing against your mouth. You glanced up at him with furrowed brows not knowing how to do what he was asking. “Open your mouth,” You did. “Don’t bite. I'll do the rest." He pushed past your lips, taking ahold off your face and began rocking his hips into you, his cock sliding along your tongue. "Oh fuck," He shivered shoving himself deeper the tip of him touching the back of your throat. You swallowed the gag as he pulled out to slam back into you bring your throat more tears spilling out, spit running down your chin. You squeezed your eyes as he used your mouth for whatever he wanted as he thrusted his cock into your mouth viciously. "Swirl your tongue around it." He hissed and you obeyed running it along the shaft, around the head feeling him stutter his movements, but pick up speed. His hand was rooted in your scalp yanking your face up, pain bubbling up with each abusing stroke, but something else was there too, and you realized his skin didn't taste bad. "You like that? You like when I fuck your mouth?"

You mumbled out incoherently not even sure what your answer was.

He shoved your head back, neck craned against the mattress his hips pinning you as he blatantly fucked into your mouth. ”I wonder what pretty sounds you would make if I fucked you hmm?” His hand bobbed your head against him as you gripped his thighs to hold yourself up as saliva dripped across your chest. "I can't though...too many others want it."

Your eyes shot open just as his thrust turned sporadic and warm liquid shot down your throat. Your face was covered in fluids, covered in drool and cum, dribbling down your chin as he slowly removed himself. ”What?" Your throat was raw and torn.

"I was going to wait to tell you." He sighed tucking himself back in. "But you are very desirable as a Victor, and once you told me you were a virgin...well it made you a lot more desirable." He patted your tears and cum stained cheek, "But you have been so good to me despite this slip up, so I will try to pick someone you will like. Hmm?” You were too stunned to respond. He was selling you to people, selling you to the highest bidder because you had killed a boy. You weren’t even supposed to win everyone had let you know how the tribute from 10 was slated to win, but he got taken out while you were hiding, and they had lost money. Because your life was a bet for them.

"I want to go home." You cried softly his hand cradling your face.

He cocked his head to the side, "Oh bluebell. You can't leave me yet." He stood up and began to walk to the door, "I might just have to keep you."

He left you there on your knees. No he didn't quite taste bad, in fact, you thought maybe you enjoyed the pool of him on your tongue. You cried even harder.

PART TWO here!

(if you care)

[cakerybakery]

Lilith dropped her bag off at the front door and called out.

No one responded and she wandered up to her and Lucifer’s bedroom. No one there either. She plugged her phone in to charge. It died sometime during her nap and she hadn’t had the chance to plug it in.

She was a little miffed about her trip to heaven. Who fell asleep on the beach all night? She must have needed the rest more than she thought. At least she didn’t burn. Although, maybe that was because she was in heaven. But she spent one night and day on the beach and Adam’s sidekick tells him that Adam is dead, Charlie apparently has a hotel, and she’s being kicked out?

Obviously “big bro” Adam was just being a dick and going back on his word. How could he possibly die? When the fuck would Charlie have time to start a hotel?

Whatever. She’d touch base with Lucifer and let him know she was back early. If she could find him.

She searched the whole castle and paused by a window. Was that a new hotel? Fuck, they put that shit up fast around here.

Lilith fetched her phone and checked her- “THREE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY FIVE MESSAGES?!? What the fuck Lucifer. I was gone a day. It’s only- that can’t be right. Why does this say February?!? I went to heaven in August! This thing has to be busted. There’s no way I slept for six months.”

She went down to the entrance and attached to the door was a note she missed.

“Lilith,

If you’re seeing this we’re at the Hazbin Hotel. Hope you’re well my darling.

Hugs and kisses,

-Lu”

“What. The. Fuck?!?”

She looked up the hazbin hotel and stormed all the way there.

There was chaos when she got there. No one even seemed to notice she was there. Instead they were trying to stab some sort of flying box. What were they called? A drone? She wasn’t really up on new technology.

She plucked Lucifer up from the chaos and he gave an excited shout before wrapping her up and a big embrace. They toppled over as Charlie tackled them.

“MOM! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Where have you been??”

“Heaven? I was only gone for two nights, sweetie.”

Charlie and Lucifer pulled back and shared a confused look. “Mom, it’s been seven and a half years.”

“What.”

“We tried texting and calling and I must have left hundreds of messages and emails. We assumed you didn’t want to talk to us.”

Lilith fished her phone out and showed them the hundreds of missed everything that were still pinning her phone. “I thought it was just broken.”

Charlie gasped, “you missed so much! I started a hotel. We fought heaven and won! Adam died! He revived this morning!”

A hand grabbed Lucifer from her and helped her up. “You drank a Marvin’s Mai Tai didn’t you?”

Adam looked more like her with his horns and sharp eye teeth than she had expected he could have. It was kind of cute how he was carrying Lucifer like luggage.

They got buzzed by the drone again and Charlie took off after it.

“Told you to stay away from that shit. Not sure what’s in it, but I figured that’s what happened. Had some of the girls watching over your ass for the last seven years.”

“What the hell is going on around here?” She asked him, ducking as some tiny sinner zipped by on top of the drone.

“Bitch, you think I know? I just got here too. Let’s let the demon freaks handle, whatever the fuck that is, and I’ll pour us some drinks from the bar.”

“Give me my husband first.”

Adam looked down at the mildly amused king of hell he was still carrying and then tossed him at Lilith. “Sorry, he’s just so fucking tiny. I forgot he was there.”

She caught him and kissed him before putting Lucifer down. They exchanged more kisses and promised to catch up before she let him go have fun playing with the sinners- wait was that a fucking exterminator??

“How much did I miss?”

“A lot, Lil. I should get this out of the way. I did try to kill your kid. There was a whole thing. Shit got fucking fucked for a few months. She’s got a hell of an arm on her through.”

Part of her wanted to strangle him. But Charlie seemed… okay?

“I need a fucking drink.” She sighed and sat down at the bar.

“Mai tai?”

[whumplump]

content: alcohol, grief over a character’s death, drugging

The bartender placed another can of beer on the counter. Whumpee didn't have the patience to pour the liquid into the glass and drank straight from the aluminum container.

"Maybe you should stop," the bartender suggested, but Whumpee didn't care.

They drank more than half the can in one gulp. Their face was stained with tears from the several hours they spent crying in the bar, but now, they no longer had the strength to cry. Just to hold the beer and swallow it, until they forgot everything that happened.

Someone came over and sat down next to them, invasively close. Whumpee didn't care to see who it was. They drank the other half of the can. The stranger asked the bartender for a drink, who brought two glasses without delay.

The stranger took a few seconds before handing one of the glasses to Whumpee. Nobody noticed.

Whumpee looked at the drink for a moment, then picked it up and took a small sip, unbothered in their drunk state. The stranger drank their share too.

"I'm so sorry about Caretaker," Whumper said. "I know how much you liked them."

Whumpee half-listened. They only heard the name. Caretaker. They took a large sip of the drink paid for by Whumper.

They turned their head to take a look at Whumper. Their eyes stopped at the stranger's neck. Whumper wore a red beaded necklace.

Caretaker had a similar necklace I gave them for their birthday, Whumpee thought.

No, it wasn't similar. It was the same.

Whumpee started to feel dizzy. The world seemed like a merry-go-round, spinning wildly within the eye sockets.

"How...how did you get...that necklace...?" They slurried, before passing out with their head on the bar counter.

The bartender heard the sound behind, and wasn't surprised. The poor thing must have passed out from drinking so much.

"I warned you," he muttered to himself.

[avintageabyss]

I claw fistfuls of dirt from where I am buried. I pray it’s not too deep.

The left arm feels heavy, half dead. I am all dead. I don’t think about it. I dig long, scraped fingers frantically into the soil, darkness taunting. It is the last chance. The only chance.

I didn’t know a ribcage could forget how a heartbeat feels. It hurts. It might be for other reasons, but the power burning in the back of my neck threatens to go out. Time sprints from me. I have to breathe. I have to dig. I will dig. A years-old mantra carves its way through my brain. It will work. I will do it. Parts of me must be broken. I don’t know which. There was no breath in my lungs when I awoke, and my chest hurts. I forget panic. I forget fear. I dig.

A finger breaks into the cold. Strength surges painfully through my spine, my limbs, and I force my arms upwards, feeling my prison give way in heavy chunks.

Air.

I cough out a mouthful of dirt. My chest screams, and I force it to remember how to inhale. It’s worse. So much worse. My eyes will not open. I focus. I make them.

She buried me in the courtyard.

Fool.

___

It felt so long ago, and Cole-Burn looked far smaller than he once was. This meant very little, because I was a dragon, and he was a tired mess of armor slouched against my leg.

I gave him wine. I offered other things, tributes useless to me from a time long before, but the wine is what he took. He poured himself a glass. Time ran short. He drank.

“This is a good one,” he said, and I turned my head. “Aged well.”

“You don’t like wine.” And never had. An ache haunted my chest. A memory. “I’m sorry the ale doesn’t keep.”

“It’s growing onto me.” The firelight cast a grim truth across his shoulders. Dirt, mud, ash. “I’m grateful. You don’t sound well, Ka… K-K—”

His voice faded. He stared into his glass. Frustratingly, comfortingly foolish, even as magic strangled the words away. I imagined I grew a new scale every time I forced an emotion down into my chest, stronger, hardier, giving it escape where I couldn’t. I imagined the weight in my eye growing weaker. I must be unchanging. I must be a friend.

“Beast,” he mumbled, pained. “Your voice. Are you hurt, still?”

“Hardly at all.” His shoulders relaxed, just enough to notice. “Do not fear hurting me.”

The wrinkles at the edges of his mouth deepened. The shadow of a beard obscured them, the scars defined them. He still grimaced much like he did when he was young. Old arguments haunted us still, but I drew myself up all the same. A beast, as She said. As if I was immortal. As if I never feared the sword on his belt.

“I fear it more than many things,” he said softly. “And the list grows long.”

He raised the glass. It swirled in the torchlight, deep red.

“I can pour you some.” His hand lowered. “K… beast. Would you like it?”

“I cannot taste it.”

“You used to.”

“Not like this.” I rested my claws, one atop the other. “She killed that part.”

He knew. Once. But he forgot more and more as the days dragged on, and I couldn’t blame him.

The wine glass shattered to the floor.

I stayed. Cole-Burn’s body bent over, slowly, and he put his hands to the ground, not quite avoiding the aftermath as I heard it. The seconds, the buzzing. He grabbed his helmet, abruptly and fearfully, like a marionette.

“Beast,” he said. He stood. His body turned towards me, and I saw it in his eyes—a light, distant and hateful as his face turned grey. Years of laughter and tears fought against a cold, dark mist taking him from inside, taking him from miles away. His face disappeared into beaten metal. “Do not let me kill you. I beg.”

“You couldn’t,” I said, as if it was true, and I watched all the warmth drain from his face. His sword pulled free. A thousand pounds of invisible weight overcame my legs, wishing, not wanting to stand. I forced them anyway.

He was so small, as humans are. As if I could break him by sighing, so much so that I caught my lungs keeping my breath. I wondered if I could hold him in my claws harmlessly, like a butterfly, but I knew better. I had seen what the magic will do to him to bend him into the bleak shape of the Knight. I wanted him to survive.

“To the void with you,” came the voice, and everything was gone, his heart, his soul. “Foulest beast of the people’s mountain.”

“Until tomorrow,” I replied, and flooded my cave with smoke.

----

The courtyard is full of thorns and briars. It takes hardly any time for me to realize my legs work. It’s a miracle. Possibly literally, the magic within me leaving a burn in my limbs I can’t ignore.

It was beautiful here, once.

The vines. My legs move heavily, one step at a time. They’re everywhere, winding and covered with thorns, uprooting the overgrown topiaries that he had once loved so much.

It leaves a different sort of burning in the back of my throat. The castle rises above me, my eyes focusing in the dark. I imagine another scale of fury growing. I remember I have none.

The stone walls fare no better. I reach out, palm first, slipping my fingers between the invasive, trunk-like growths, finding the space where the door used to be. Intact. If only the wood had rotted. It would make things so much easier.

“Fine, then.” My own voice almost scares me, if only because it hurts. A terrible, dry, earthy, dead thing. The vine recoils, alive, at the magic dripping from my mouth. “We do this with flair.”

A horrible, shocking current rips through my bones. I nearly bite what’s left of my tongue as a yellow-white light flares against my fingers with a crack, snapping out against the thorns that move to strangle me. It is not supposed to feel like this. It does not matter. Not now.

Vines scream. Snakes of fire tear through my hand and bolt away. I can’t burn them all, not even close, but it’s enough—they shrink, and I throw myself into the gap, slam my shoulder to the door. A thud, dull. I do it again. And again.

Success comes so unexpectedly I nearly fall to the floor. The door creaks, and my clothes tear as I stumble through it into icy stone. It is cold where it once was humid. Like a cave.

The magic hurts.

Two guards stand down the hall. Leaves peek out from their dusty blue uniforms as they look left, right, left in an exaggerated parody of themselves. One looks at me unflinchingly, and then away again. It feels too much to hope that a man still exists in there, choosing not to see.

The throne room is deeper inside. Tattered tapestries flicker some old memory to life, and I turn myself south, looking down a long, abandoned hallway. Vines, doors, stone. The hero must come back for the princess. She must have left a way through.

Fatigue strangles my chest. I press on.

----

“I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

I pretended to be tired. I knew he had no choice but to stand here, playing the Knight, but the spell in my skull was so heavy and overwhelming that the distraction was a much-needed relief from the fact I could barely move. Her magic did not like mine. But that was understandable.

“Your eye,” I said. Cole-Burn covered it with his palm. He was missing a gauntlet, and I wondered if that was my fault.

The deep, aching pain filled me. I imagined another scale, hardened by hurt.

“I took too long.” He leaned, cheek against my nose, vanishing between my eyes. But the touch was always, eternally welcome, even as it made the wounded beast inside me wail louder. “Old friend of mine. I’m sorry, K… Beast. She made it stronger. I don’t… I know not what I will do to you, now.”

I could feel it. Dark, stabbing, ugly magic seeping through his skin into mine. It burned, like a rash. It changed him. I could bear it to let him rest, just for a moment, even as I knew that the sands in the hourglass were falling far too fast.

“You cannot hurt me, little knight.” Lying has always been easy. “I will be fine.”

“I still love her,” he said.

Sharper than any sword. Heavier than any spell.

“I know.”

“I don’t.” I closed my eyes even as he said it, focused on the muffled voice. His head buried against me. “I never know if it’s the magic, or if I did love her, before. My memories are hazy. Seeing her is like a dream. Even as she asks horrific things of me, impossible things, I feel sorrow that I could not make her happy. Even as I know I never will. I cannot give her the story she wants. It will ruin me.”

He smelled like smoke, and dirt, and darkness. He couldn’t cry. He tried so hard. Pain. Sorrow.

“Even then, I wonder if it is not within her rights to want it. A fairy tale. A future. Forgive me. Forgive me for feeling this way.”

“And you?” It was desperate, and I knew it. “What of your wants, your life?”

“I know nothing of my life.” The weight on my neck lessened, but not enough. “But you deserve yours. My patient, suffering friend.”

He coughed.

Despair. Too soon, it was too soon. The weight of his hand left me, and he appeared in my vision, tall and wide-eyed, dark webs spreading from his eye like mold.

“I don’t know what I will be like,” he said. Even then, a shoulder tilted, an arm turned, the words fought his mouth. “Be careful.”

“Fool,” I said, and poured in all my strength. I lifted my head, as if the magic within me was not strangling me, as if I was light as a child. “I am immortal.”

The sword stabbed into my jaw.

--

Blocked. Left, right, down, up. Of course.

I wind down a side hall I never meant to find. Time escapes me in ways I despise. She has waited this long, and she can wait longer. But I’m not sure that he can.

I’m not sure there is anything left of him at all.

Another door open. I storm into the kitchens, where a familiar set of cooks puppet themselves through the motions of dinner. I duck past a woman pouring a jar into nothing. It smells of rot and peat and mildew, and a maid bumps my shoulder, sweeping the same spot over, and over, and over again. I make it to the hall. There are vines. Of course there are vines. It takes all of the self-control in me not to expel the last of my energy in a fiery, furious protest against all of the mountains-forbid vines, but this body can’t take it. I can still feel the burns of my last spell up my limbs, and I need it for what’s left.

A serving boy bumps into me. He’s holding a tray with a mess of dust and mold on it, and I maneuver around him as he circles left and puts a hand to the wall. The tendrils winding up his arm push his fingers forward, tracing a groove in the stone.

Of course. Of course.

A horrible grinding noise. The wall begins to slide, and the serving boy steps forward, not quite waiting long enough. His face cracks against the half-open passage soundlessly. I slip past him, trying not to look into his blank, vacant eyes, stumbling into the dark. There are vines here, but there is a path. Musty and dark.

She makes things work as she feels they must. And servants must clean. And they must do so unheard, and unseen.

The torches long since went out, and I feel my way through, cutting my hand on thorn after thorn. The map in my head is twisted, convoluted; I try to remember the location of the kitchens, the bedrooms, the grand hall, but it’s like recalling places visited as a child. There is nowhere to go but forward, into the maze.

The ground turns from stone to something smoother. Textured. Wall sconces become more frequent, and I move faster, even as my body protests each step. I run into a door. I push.

I am the luckiest man, dragon, creature, alive.

The throne room is nearly a forest, now. Towering, thick trunks covered in barbs stretch from the broken stone, and the ground writhes with snakes of vine. Wide patches of moonlight pour down from the crumbling holes in the ceiling above, casting a circle on a once-gilded dais.

The king and I had never been close. He was an inflexible man who tolerated me only out of tradition and a fondness for power, but it did not make it any easier to see him now. Nor the queen, poised and posed beside him, sitting passively in a way she never did while alive—we argued frequently, and heartily, and enough so I would have called her a friend. But she didn’t listen to me then. Her eyes, like her husbands, fixed forward, empty.

A chair sits in front of their thrones.

And She raises her head.

___

He had tried so, so hard to force himself to climb back down the mountain, and it tore his hands raw.

The sky only grew darker and darker with each year, and that day was the worst. The sun did not rise, and I knew in my heart it would not again, not where I could see. He came back that day, in the dark, and I could see what took him so long—his wrists burned by rope, his nails torn, his eyes wild.

She wouldn’t have tied him up. He had to be able to climb. That’s how the story went. Knowing he’d become so desperate hurt far, far worse.

He bobbed below the ledge and caught himself all at once. He screamed in frustration, raw and unbearable, and I shoved one claw as far as I could out of my cave prison and begged him.

“Come up.” I swallowed the fear, I swallowed the worry, I struggled, I imagined. “Do not hurt yourself, come up.”

His voice was hoarse, half gone. He said nothing to me.

“Cole-Burn, knighted her Holy Fire, climb up the mountain.” I stretched further. The weight in my eye seared. My vision went white. “I cannot come out to catch you. The magic.”

A muffled sound. Sight returned, slowly. I saw his hands over the ridge, and nothing more, clinging there and shaking. I heard a sob. I cursed everything. I lost myself. I could no longer be calm.

“Tell me,” I said, desperately. “Tell me of her. Tell me of everything I can’t go see.”

I knew already. His hands flexed and bent, and for a moment I saw the top of his head, before it dropped down and away. A cough and a cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to curse. I must be reasonable. I must be a friend.

“They’re all gone.”

I nearly scrambled upright, but couldn’t. I craned my neck instead, as if my interest would coax him to speak, coax him to tell me stories as he used to.

“The palace.” He sounded horrible, dry, miserable, and I could barely hear him. I had to hear him. “They’re all full of briars. I can’t. It’s too strong. No one is enough. I am a shell. I barely remember. I barely remember what the sun was like.”

“Cole-Burn.”

“I am ruining her story.” I almost commanded him to stop. It was hurting him, somehow, but the words tumbled out of him in a way that grabbed me by the throat. “The knight must kill the dragon. I am gone. I can’t even say your name anymore.”

“You are speaking to me still. I can see you.”

“I am going to hurt you,” he said, and one arm pulls him up. He wore his helmet. It was battered and bent. Half-curved to his face. He spoke in warnings, in fear. “And there will be only enough of me left to despair.”

Sorrow strangled me, and I dragged my head along the earth, moving slowly closer.

“If I kill you, Cole-Burn, she will make another.” I imagined his face. As it was before, beneath the metal, the grime. “And then, another. There is only one way for this to end. Even so, I will not kill you. And you will not kill me. I swear it.”

I could see his shoulders now. His breastplate scraped the dirt, and I knew I had just cursed him. An eternity of suffering. An eternity where he would not die. It was selfish. I am selfish. I could not kill him. I cannot.

“I can’t hear.” The words dripped thickly out. “It’s here.”

The buzzing. His body heaved itself up, an unnatural, bobbing silhouette, and his sword hung from his waist by a cord. As if he’d tried to leave it behind. Understanding gripped me from where I’d ignored it for so long. Pain was all I knew, now, trapped here as I was, but I would have suffered it to continue to speak with him, to let him lie against me drunk on the finest of wine. She was hollowing him out. He was right. Soon, he would be nothing.

I had shunned death, all this time. I was not ready. I had already died once, in the smaller, more human body of mine I had created for myself so carefully. The one that had walked easily among the palace walls, practiced magic, drank wine, wrote in books. The one that took Cole-Burn’s hand. It hurt to die. I had been lucky, to have another body to return to, to be made of magic as I was. I did not know if I could do it again.

And dying would not end the curse. Or bring back the sun, but here, trapped, there had only ever been one thing to do. The only thing left to try. In my own fear, I’d wished that this horror we lived would be good enough. That I could find peace in it.

But I would lose him, one way or the other.

 “Forgive me,” I said. His shape shuddered against the muted sky. I had lost him. I hoped he would be back. Or I hoped he would not, if I failed, so that he might find some blissful peace in ignorance. “If this makes me a liar.”

The sword. He went for my neck, where I was still wounded. I forced my head to move, heaving, turning, with a grumbling roar. There was no time, anymore. No waiting.

The blade plunged into my eye.

Pain. White hot, blinding pressure. The pain I felt when I do what I should not. The pain of something wrong. I had intended this. I was not ready. It was worse than I could have imagined, a thousand times worse. Had it been my other eye, I could have endured it. But his sword, sick with Her magic, plunged into the binding spell she’d shoved in my head, and it resonated like a tuning fork throughout my body. I couldn’t feel myself anymore. I was agony. Formless and dying.

I had hoped the blade would free me. Just for a moment. Interrupt her hold long enough to draw upon myself, find the power that lived within me and break myself out of this prison she held me in, but I was a fool.

I died.

I burned. All of me, the formlessness of my soul, felt white-hot, and I reached out into the nothing. I was dead. I had died once already. Perhaps there would be enough magic left to live a short while longer. Just once more. Once more to save him.

Something glimmered, far away.

It was desperate. Stupid. I had thought about it, as days, weeks, months passed by. I had imagined this. It was impossible and foolish, and yet what choice did I have? I suffocated in a void between life and unknown, but I remembered myself. I had a chance. I reached out with rusty muscles, dusting off magic of ages past. I sang.

A piece of me sang back. My body, heavy and scaled, as I was born, now imprisoned and useless. Another body, smaller. Dead. Buried and gone.

And I awoke in the ground.

--

“The dragon does not enter the castle.”

“Funny,” I say hoarsely. “I arrived regardless.”

The vines on the floor snake themselves around my ankles. I do not try to fight them. It isn’t worth it. She is beautiful in her own way, captivating, like an adder.

The Princess looks down at me, perplexed.

“He did it.” Her waxy, ivy-spotted skin glimmers in the light, fingers brushing to her lips. “The knight has killed the dragon.”

“Yes,” I reply. Magic burns in my shoulders. I try to summon it, tendril by tendril, piece by piece. This body is broken. “And I would like it if we didn’t make that a habit. I’m quite sick of it.”

Her gaze is simple. Curious. She tilts her head, calculating.

“It was fate,” says the Princess, to no one. “And now there is a ball. A wedding.”

I laugh. I can’t help myself. I realize that it’s every emotion, every imagined scale exploding out of me at once. It’s that, or cry. I do both, eventually. And it hurts. My body does not want to cackle until I crumble into pieces, it wants to sleep, and so do I.

“Fate?” I point. I try not to let what magic I’ve gathered escape me in a pitiful wail. “Fate already came for you!”

She blinks. The ivy of her hair adjusts itself back into a careful cascade, holding her tiara.

“The knight returns to the castle,” she says, “and comes to me with a kiss. I will be queen. He is my consort. We rule fairly. Happily.”

Anger. Hot, searing anger. I bite it down.

“A kingdom of corpses,” I spit, despite myself. “I do hope you’re proud.”

The heads of the king and queen snap to the side to stare. Empty eyes. Vacant. Judging.

If only they had listened to me.

“This is the story,” She says. Her head tilts the other direction. “Once upon a time.”

A horrible, familiar pressure seizes my spine.

“There was a king and a queen and a lovely kingdom. They were blessed with a lovely daughter. The princess was sweet, and fair, and doting, and kind.”

“Sheltered,” I hiss through my teeth, even as a grip myself, struggle to keep her magic away from my own.  “And confused. Stop this.”

“The princess grew, and for each birthday, all in the kingdom sent her gifts, for she was so loved. The princess cherished these gifts and spent time with each, ensuring to give them all proper affection and adoration.”

“Neighboring kingdoms. Political gifts. Boring. Cease.”

“Among these gifts was a spinning wheel, which sat waiting, unused, for its turn to be loved. Years past, until one day, the princess—”

“—hiding from a suitor, who was a bastard of a man—”

“—took it upon herself to weave a beautiful cloth, that would be used for her wedding gown. And so, she ascended the tower, and upon finding the wheel—”

“It was cursed.” The fog of time is not yet so thick. She does not have a hold on me, not like the others. “A prick of the spindle kills no one. She died. That is your story. That is the end.”

Nausea overcomes me.

“That is not,” she says, and suddenly I feel my legs pulled out from under me. My arms jerk forward on instinct. “The story.”

Fire rips through my veins.

A scream. I hit the ground, my torso immediately locking up in agonizing pain as impact reminds me of a hundred broken things. I push myself onto my hands and knees, forcing my arm out of the way of a grasping vine, tearing my palms with thorns. I can see Her, out of the corner of my eye. Face neutral and calm. It’s the plant that howls, flames soaring above me.

“The godmother saved the princess,” she says. “And puts the kingdom to sleep.”

I put my arm in the fire. It hurts, but it’s mine. It’s all I have. There is hardly anything left in me, even as it wraps around my arm, my shoulder, hugs my chest like a friend.

“The fae,” I gasped. “Tricked the king. Promised him a princess. Promised him she would get a happy ending. No one is asleep. They are hollow. They are dead.”

I grab the wall. Vines lash out at me, and some grab, and some burn. She stares. I can feel the magic. Prickling. Trying to break through.

“The knight will come,” she says. “He has killed the dragon. He will marry me. I will be queen. We will be happy.”

Something bubbles up within me again. I have almost nothing left. Just this body, the flames around it, and a rioting, endless anger that I am finally, finally letting go.

“He is my husband,” I bellow, and the fire grows, and the vines surge, lash out, and I know this is it, and I cannot care, because I am tired, and angry, and years and years of fury and hurt and sorrow and rage rip through me in a blinding, hot blaze that I cannot control, even as the vines scream, even as my body screams with it, “you wretch.”

--

Cole-burn runs.

The path is familiar and overgrown, winding up to the treacherous mountain slope, and he trips. It’s nothing, not now. He has to run. He has to go back, to see, to be sure.

His mind has not felt so clear in ages. He has never felt such joy, fear, relief, and terror all at once. He can feel. He knows.

He is scared of what he thinks he’s done.

There are parts of him that are hurt worse than he dares think. He hadn’t noticed them, in a magic-possessed haze, or if he had, he couldn’t remember. Scenes, conversations, events flashed in front of him in patches as he desperately tried to remember who he was, what he was doing. Even now, he wasn’t sure, not really.

But he knows one thing.

He has to get back up the mountain.

A rock sends him down. Cole-burn catches himself, rips off pieces of his armor, throwing a pauldron to the wind, and takes a moment to breathe. The desperation burns, but his body burns worse. He forces himself to stop, take stock, close his eyes. He needs to get up the mountain. He…

What if he…

Tears confuse him. It feels better, though, to just let them out, pushing forward as he goes. It is a long trek back up. He has to stop to rest. Blurred memories tell him he didn’t have to stop before, when his body was not his. The meaning of it feels half-lost, rattling around in the emptiness of his head like a melody with words he couldn’t remember, sitting on the tip of his tongue.

Light.

He lifts his head. At first he thinks it’s the sunrise, but there was no sunrise, not anymore. Instead, in the distance, he sees what was once a palace. He does not remember what kingdom was ruled there. He knows he was meant to return. From here, he can see the fire.

Habitual sorrow floods in like a storm. He watches, in the dark. Fixated. Mourning something he does not remember, but cannot help, a frustrating, overwhelming emotion that roots him to the ground with fear.

It hurts to have lost something he cannot recall. It will hurt worse if he has also lost the one thing he does. He must climb the mountain. But he cannot stand. He tries, over and over. Instead, he watches for hours in the dark.

There is a bonfire down the path.

Reality only further breaks apart the confused pieces forming the picture in his brain. At first, it seems unreal, a mirage. And then it’s not a bonfire.

It’s man.

The man stops, a stone’s throw away.

He is not all fire. Just mostly, in his limbs, and across his chest, flicking through cloth and exposed ribs dry and caked with dirt. His face is gaunt, long, messy hair stuck to his cheeks with mud, scars breaking through the beginnings of a beard as flames lick up against his chin. Cloudy eyes reflect the orange light. The ground beneath him does not burn.

His mouth opens. Closes. He is familiar, familiar in a way Cole-Burn can’t place, but the words pour out of him all the same.

“I think,” Cole-Burn says, holding the trembling at bay. “I think I may have hurt someone very important.”

The man stays still. Eyes flicker to the side, a moment’s thought, a worry, a question. Words press against his mouth and evaporate like smoke.

Something has happened. He is made of a hundred things that should not be alive. He seems to know this, standing there as if he knows time is escaping him, and he can’t help it.

“But are you alright?” he says, in a hoarse, croaking voice.

Cole-Burn stares, frozen.

He had not considered the question. He does not know. He isn’t even sure what that means, beyond that he is parched, and he aches, and it must be very nice not to be either of those things.

“I have to get up the mountain,” he says instead. “Will you help me?’

The man hesitates. The fire is warm—Cole-Burn can feel it, radiating out from where he sits in the dirt. Instinct tells him to fear, but instead the panic ebbs, just a little, the heat sinking into his bones.

“I will need a new body,” the man says, and Cole-Burn furrows his eyebrows before suffering an immediate headache. “Somehow. And you need water, and rest.”

“But I have…”

The burning, desperate drive ebbs. He blinks, confused, appalled, and turns to look behind him. Up the mountain. Towards the cave he knows is there. Towards the fear.

“I have,” says the man behind him. “The answers you want. I promise. Rest, Cole-Burn. I need to know you’ve rested.”

Cole-Burn turns back. The pieces are missing, still, but the ghosts are there. A shadow of a thought. A familiar comfort. He needs to know, but he is tired, and he slowly lifts a hand, reaching it out even though he knows it’s foolish. The man steps back. He keeps the flames at a safe distance, even as a flash of hope escapes across his cloudy eyes. A tired, worn, impossible hope that lives, surfacing itself as Cole-Burn pulls a single name out of the abyss of years gone by. The name overwhelms him, but he needs to say it, desperately.

“Kazimir?”

The sun rises.

You have heard of dragons pretending to be princesses. And you also know of princesses rescuing knights from dragons. Now is a tale of a dragon saving a knight from the princess.

[darkysilverwing]

I'm not a vampire, I promise.

So i just graduated from college(yay) and as a reward for that my family let me pick a restaurant for us to go to. I was in the mood for Italian food but didn't wanna go to olive garden because I wanted to try some other Italian places. So I chose this restaurant called Brio. and I think they thought I was a vampire.

First things first They sat us at a table right in front of a giant mirror, the only mirror in the building that I could see that wasn't in the bathrooms. This was a bit weird but it was fine regardless.

Next, right before we got our food the sun started setting, the sunlight shone right through the window and directly onto our table, meaning half our party was blinded.

Then we got our food, and I'll be honest, I wasn't a fan. First of all I thought the myth of fancy places serving small dishes was something they made up for tv but they literally gave me a plate that looked like someone stretched out a small soup bowl and filled it with about a cup full of weird slime with bits of seafood in it.

It was fine for the most part, except that every once and awhile I would hit a part that just tasted like someone juiced a garlic and poured it on that one solitary part, and it wasn't like there was a garlic clove that I just accidentally ate, you couldn't tell the garlic portions from the non garlic portions. It was almost like they forgot to stir it before they served it and I'd probably not eat it again.

On top of this the waiter kept coming by every 2 minutes and refilling our water glasses. Literally we couldn't take 2 sips without the waiter appearing and pouring more water in and I was drinking plenty of water because I wanted to at least feel like I had gotten enough food in my system so I drank maybe 4 glasses of water. Also it helped to wash down the super strong garlic taste.

And to top it all off our table was right in the path of the kitchen, meaning we constantly had servers walking by us, and like half of them were wearing crucifixes, which I'm not going to fault you for but still.

So in total we have: Mirror Sunlight Garlic Running water Crucifixes

I mean short of stabbing me in the chest with a wooden cross I'm pretty sure that's all you can do to prove someone's a vampire or not.

3/10 probably going to olive garden next time.

[unlimitedlust]

Temptation - Part 1

Till’s POV

I took a large gulp of my whiskey as a beautiful stripper went down the main pole with her legs wide open to the sound of Marilyn Manson’s “Tainted Love” right in front of me. The purple stage lights highlighted her toned curves and her outfit: a white latex swimsuit with a large V cleavage that ended at her belly button and white cutout high heels. She was hot, really hot, probably one of the hottest girls I’ve ever seen and I’ve seen a lot. The way she glanced at the men watching her while she danced - me included -, her eyes full of devilish intentions, the way she sucked in her bottom lip and ran her hands over her body in a provocative way, that girl knew exactly what she was doing, a pure seduction machine. Of course I was there to see half-naked women, but I wasn’t expecting to get so hard and so infatuated by this new woman. She was just a stripper for god’s sake.

Sadly her performance soon came to an end. Following her with my eyes, I watched her boss call and lead her to the VIP session where another man was having the pleasure of watching her dance just for him and I wish I was that lucky man.

I drank the last of my whiskey, pushed her away from my thoughts and went home. I can’t believe I was getting jealous over a stripper, all I needed to do was to get back to that same stripclub another time if I wanted to watch her again.

A couple of days went by and my best friend Robert called me over to his house for some drinks, his daughter he hadn’t seen in a long time was finally visiting him. She lived in another country with her mother and he always had to visit her, but now she was finally here and he couldn’t be happier and seeing my friend happy made me happy as well.

“Good evening, Till!” Robert greeted me enthusiastically with a hug.

“Good evening, my friend, I guess it’s not necessary to ask how are you doing right?” We both giggled as we stepped inside his house.

“My baby is home, nothing can make me sad!” He led us to his living room and I sat on the brown leather armchair by the rock fireplace as he poured us his favorite expensive Scotch.

“And how are things going with your daughter?”

“Great! She’s now in college and she’s grown into a beautiful woman, it makes me nervous to think that men might be chasing after her already”

“Already? How old is she?”

“21”

I laughed.

“Please, buddy, 21? It’s about time for men to chase after her isn’t it?”

“Yeah I know, but she’s my baby forever, I can’t bear thinking about this stuff”

“You gotta a point there that’s why I won’t judge you”

“I know you won’t” He replied as we heard some steps coming down his wooden stairs “Oh, Y/N! Come meet my best friend Till!” He leaned back towards the stairs on his armchair calling her.

“I’ll be right there, dad! I forgot my purse, just a minute!” She yelled from the second floor and soon we heard her coming down the stairs again.

Oh fuck.

I almost dropped my glass when I saw her. It was her. The hot stripper, right in front of me, and she’s my best friend’s daughter. Holy fuck.

She went straight to her dad to give him a quick hug before she acknowledged my presence and froze on her tracks. Her eyes widened as she probably had recognized me as one of her stripclub’s clients, her beautiful face silently begging me to keep her secret away from her father.

“Hey, I’m Y/N, nice to meet you” She finally spoke, breaking the awkward silence that lasted for only a couple of seconds, but felt like a whole hour in the room, while Robert was completely unaware of what was happening.

“Nice to meet you too, I’m Till” I took a large gulp of my scotch as she fixed the purse on her shoulder.

“Dad, I’m going out with some new friends I’ve made, okay? Don’t wait up” She said sweetly and he nodded.

“Have fun, love”

“Thanks dad” She already had her hand on the front door’s knob “Bye, Till”

She looked at me one last time, her eyes begging once again for me to keep her secret.

“Bye, Y/N”

For the rest of the night I couldn’t pay attention to a word Robert said. That couldn’t be happening, that couldn’t be his daughter, what a sad coincidence. As much as part of me felt like I should tell him about his daughter’s secret getaways, another told me to keep it to myself and I decided to stick with it. He loved her too much and would be thoroughly disappointed if he found out his little daughter was a vixen at night.

But I felt bad, bad for not being honest with him and even worse for lusting on his daughter. Fuck!

“Till?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I got carried away with some stuff I’ve gotta do tomorrow” Liar.

“Nevermind, are you coming to my birthday party at my Lake Walchensee house this weekend?”

“Of course I am”

“Perfect! I’ll text you the details later”

The next day couldn’t have gone by any slower than it did. I was completely unproductive and absolutely stressed by it. I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Every woman I saw on the street I thought was her, I mean, I wish it was her. How could I be so obsessed with a stripper to the point I couldn’t focus on my job? And that stripper being my best friend's daughter! I shouldn’t be thinking about her at all, I never meant to cross that line.

Why was she a stripper? Robert was a wealthy man and I knew he sent her a good amount of money every month. And why did I have to go to that specific stripclub on that specific damn night? 

I needed to talk to her, I needed answers, I needed a way out of this obsession. And that’s how I found myself sitting in a private VIP room at that same stripclub later that night, waiting for her as patiently as I could. It was a small room, dimly lit by pink, purple and red lights that changed along to the beat of the songs being played. It had a black leather loveseat on the corner, a comfortable cushioned chair where I was sitting, a pole in the middle of the room and right in front of the chair and a floor to ceiling mirror behind the pole.

I was nervous, I shouldn’t be here. Not for the reason I was here.

The door on my right finally opened and there she was. Her delicious flowerish parfum invaded my senses as her taunting beauty came into my sight in a mouth watering dark red lace lingerie set with garters and red high heels on her feet. I was astonished and completely hard just by looking at her.

“What are you doing here?” She asked calmly yet a little alarmed as she rested her back against the door with her hands on the lock, ready to get out.

“You” Her eyes widened at my extremely honest answer “I think we need to talk” I said as laidback as I could.

“I’m listening” She locked the door and giggled as she swayed her hips and walked behind me, her fingertips running from one of my shoulders to the other as she circled me and took her place by the pole.

“Why are you here?” I asked, trying not to sound judgemental.

“For fun. I’m an exibicionist in case you haven’t noticed” She smiled seductively “But you don’t need to worry for him…” She started pole dancing for me in the sexiest and most provocative way possible to Arctic Monkeys’ “Do I Wanna Know”, the lyrics matching almost perfectly to my current situation as my eyes traveled down between her spread legs on the floor.

She arched her back and laid on the floor with her legs still open for me and her slender fingers slid over the thin fabric covering her pussy before she closed them slowly and back rolled, sensually landing on her heels on a squat as she ruffled her hair with her hands and jerked her hips forward like she was grinding with the air.

“I don’t get involved with clients” She got up circling the pole and stopped in front of me, her back turned to me as she slid her hands down the pole and bent over showing off her beautiful ass for me “I’m just a dancer, there’s no harm in dancing…”

She turned her body back to me and squatted down, getting on her knees, her eyes never breaking their contact with mine.

“Does he know his little girl is a stripper?” She chuckled at my question and spread my legs apart by my knees with a devilish grin.

Her eyes were on my painfully hard cock hidden by my dark jeans as she leaned in closer to me, her lips almost brushing my raging bulge as she made her way up my body and whispered on my ear:

“Does he know his best friend is paying for a private session with her?” 

I gulped at her comeback as she slowly ran her hands on my inner thighs getting dangerously close to where I wanted her to touch me the most. But just as her fingers brushed close to my crotch, she stopped.

“Does he know how hard his best friend is because of her?”

Chills ran down my spine as her lips brushed against my earlobe.

“Now keep in mind the rules, Till” She slid her fingertips along my jaw, lightly lifting my chin connecting your eyes again as our noses brushed “You can look, but you can’t touch”

She took her position behind me and slid her hands down my shoulders, caressing my arms as we looked at each other through the mirror in front of us. She slid her hands back up my arms and shoulder and then down my chest and abs lazily.

“But do you want me to touch you, Till?” She purred seductively and I flinched as her fingers reached my belt and caressed my thighs once again, skipping my painfully hard erection on purpose.

That girl was going to be the death of me.

She got back in front of me, wrapped her arms around my neck and straddled me, rolling her hips to grind against my cock making me gasp with the friction. She repeated the same motion but this time pulling me closer, bringing my face dangerously close to her breasts while both my hands gripped the chair trying not to touch her at my own will, she was the temptation in flesh and bone.

She got off of me, turned around and stood between my open legs, swaying her hips to the floor as she placed her hands on my thighs for extra support. She swayed her hips back up and hovered her ass right above my boner, moving it in circles before she grinded against me like she was riding me in a reverse cowgirl position.

“Fuck” 

It escaped my lips as I was dizzy with lust, my eyes were glued to the image of her ass rubbing against me and my mind was overwhelmed by all the sinful things I could do to her while she arched back to rest her head on my shoulder as she slid up and down between my legs.

“Time’s up”

A robotic voice echoed in the room and she immediately composed herself and walked nonchalantly to the exit door.

“I’ll see you at the Walchensee, Till” 

I let a huge sigh out of my lungs as I parked my car in front of Robert’s lake house. I could survive for two days around Y/N, couldn’t I? I mean, I have no intention of doing anything and I’m sure she’s not doing anything either because not only her father, but also her stepmom was there.

Everything was going to be just fine.

I took my stuff to their spare room on the second floor as everyone got all the details ready for the party. Robert was checking on the drinks and instructing the staff he hired, Heidi - his wife - was checking on the decorations and DJ set and Y/N was in the kitchen finishing up the cupcakes.

“Can someone help me please?” I heard Y/N calling from the kitchen as I went down the stairs.

“What do you need?” I answered her as I made my way to the kitchen, Robert nodding thankfully to me as he talked to the party staff in the living room.

“Could you please help me stack them up on these cupcake displays?” She asked as she finished frosting some chocolate cupcakes.

“Sure, how do you want it?”

“Chocolate and strawberry on this one and vanilla and pistachio on that one, thank you, Till” She smiled politely giving me a quick glance before returning to her task.

As she finished the cupcakes she watched me stack them up just how she ordered and she seemed happy with the final result.

“Here, try one” She brought a strawberry cupcake close to my lips and I took a bite of it as she watched my reaction apprehensively.

“Oh my God” I exclaimed. That cupcake was so fucking perfect.

“What?” She looked frightened at my reaction.

“This is so delicious!”

“Damn, Till! I thought they were terrible by the way you reacted!” She laughed and took a bite of the same cupcake, smearing the corner of her mouth with frosting.

Before I could think it through, my hand automatically cupped her jaw and I cleaned the frosting with my thumb. Being the devil she was, she locked her eyes with mine and captured by thumb with her soft lips, sucking it teasingly, her eyes challenging me as I forgot for a couple of seconds we were at her dad’s house and slid my hand down her neck, choking her, my unexpected move forcing a small whimper out of her lips.

“Are you sure you want to tease me here?” I asked as I let go of her neck.

“What can I say? I love the thrill…”

“We can’t do this, I can’t do this” I exhaled as I turned my back to her and grabbed a glass of water, desperately trying to think of anything else other than bending her over that kitchen island and fucking her right then and there.

“You know what they say, the stolen fruit is the sweetest” She stood by my side and slid her hand up my thigh, her fingers brushing against my hard cock intentionally.

“I’m going to hell for this…”

“We are going to hell, Till”

[say-narry]

Note: English isn’t my first language. Hope you all like it. Please, give me your opinion with a reblog, fav or a note in my askbox :)

pairing: Louis!peaky blinders era x reader

warnings: explicit sex, unprotected sex (don't do that!), curse words, daddy kink, overstimulation, dirt talk, mention of jealousy, mention of astrology.

Words: 4k

talk with me | masterlist

Astrology

In my spare time I loved to read about astrology. It was a habit I adhered to since I was a teenager and now as an adult, it was my secret cringe.

So many times, the things described there met the personality traits of someone I knew and that made me believe it even more.

Sure, there were some holes in the script, but I had been in this world forever, so I just ignored that and kept it as a supposed truth and that was only affirmed when I met Louis.

Friends in common, I liked the way his accent sounded, a few drinks here and there, we shared the lighter to light the cigarette and ended up kissing at the end of the party at Calvin's house.

That was a year ago now.

I already knew all his quirks and as Louis lived more at my place than at his mansion here in London, he had to follow my rules, which was a little difficult even though he is Capricorn. Lately it was complicated to deal with him, because he seemed to ignore me and my weekly horoscope had already said that my relationship would be shaken by the smallest things and that I should be careful.

"Babe, don't leave your shoes like that. I already asked for them!" I complained as I placed our shoes side by side by the door. This was one of his manners that annoyed me deeply. "My friends will be here soon!"

"Nah." he muttered, not even looking at me.

I snorted and rolled my eyes, going to check the cheese and chocolate fondue I was preparing.

My friends Peter, Anne, Sam and Paul were coming over for happy hour. I am on vacation at work, an accounting office, so this is a perfect opportunity to hear what's new.

"Babe, is there any way to go to that grocery store down the street? I forgot that Anne has a gluten allergy and forgot to buy the gluten-free bagel." I stirred the melted cheese in the small pot on the stove.

No response from Louis.

Because my house is small, there's no way he couldn't hear me. I stretched my body back a little and in my half vision through the door, I could see that Louis was still concentrating on the smartphone game while gnawing on the corner of his left thumb.

I took another deep breath, it seemed that Louis became a child watching the games on the device and this was another flaw of his sign's characteristic, however I knew he was loyal and domineering, which eventually gave me an idea.

I turned off the stove and wrapped the fondues, putting them in the electric oven in warm-up mode so that they would not cool down.

My friends would arrive in half an hour, it was time to put my idea into practice.

I grabbed my purse, checked the pounds in my wallet, put on a sweatshirt and ran to the door.

"Luv, where are you going?" Louis asked without looking at me.

"Grocery store, babe." I put on my moccasins and closed the door.

It was dusk and for a change London was cold, for as soon as I passed the small gate in my driveway I sped to the grocery store.

As luck would have it, I found the guys a few meters from my house and ran to hug them.

"How are you, Y/N?" Sam, the blond girl with freckles and green eyes asked me as she released me from her hug.

"Fine! But I need a little help from all of you, specifically you, Paul and Anne." I pointed to them, who were inches away from me.

My couple of friends looked at me, Paul was a tall man with blue eyes, a muscular body and a beard. He was dating Anne, a tall, beautiful black woman with curly hair and honey-brown eyes with a mouth to envy.

"What happened?" Anne asked.

I explained to them that Louis seemed to be ignoring me as if I was just someone else working for him, but that he was the dominating type and so I wanted to tease him and see if we should continue with this relationship or if he was just distracted.

"I swear it won't go any further than that, I love Louis very much but this is killing me." I held the brown paper bag against me.

"Have you tried talking to him?" Peter suggested.

"Louis is a Capricorn, you know how it is. When he focuses on something, that's it." I rolled my eyes.

"That's fine with me, it will be fun watching a music star want to kill me because his wife wants me." Paul grabbed the bag from my hands and winked at me, and we laughed.

"It's fine with me too, you know I find it sexy to see men jealous." Anne winked at Paul, who closed his face, causing us to let out a few more low chuckles.

"I think there's a way we can help too." Sam put his arm around my neck and held Peter by the waist.

I had the best friends in the world.

"He simply came in halfway through the meeting with a huge mark on his neck. Emily wanted to climb the walls!" Peter commented on our co-worker.

We were all sitting on the floor of the room with the creams and fondue mixes on the coffee table. Louis was on my right side with black sweatpants and the jacket I loved so much, Paul was on my left side, next to him was Anne followed by Peter and Sam.

"But we know why Tom's nights out..." Sam looked at me suggestively and then looked at Anne. I straightened up waiting for what was to come.

Louis followed the conversation, sometimes hugging me around the waist and offering me something to eat. I just helped myself to a glass of red wine.

"Why?" Anne asked as if she didn't understand.

"Oh, you know, since the S/N went on vacation he has been gloomy, seems to have forgotten how to do calculations on the spreadsheets, and gets sad at lunchtime." Sam replied, alternating his gaze between Louis and me.

Louis, who was serving himself a piece of bread and cheese, grimaced, but said nothing.

"It's true, we know he's not over it yet."

I had the glass in my mouth trying to hold back the laugh I wanted to give.

"Get over what?" Louis asked me with a frown and I arched my shoulders, pretending not to know what they were referring to.

"Tom is in love with Y/N, Louis. Ever since she came to the office, he only has eyes for her." Anne answered by pouring herself some strawberry slices and pouring the melted chocolate on top. "You know, alluring and attractive men don't get over it so easily when they are dumped by a beautiful woman."

My eyes were watering from holding back tears of laughter. It was funny to imagine this situation, since Tom was a very well married gentleman, father of three children, and would soon be a grandfather.

"I'm going to get some more wine." I pushed myself to get up, because I needed to release the laughter that was stuck in me.

"I'll get it, babe." Paul took the glass from my hand, passing his hand through mine and stood up.

"Oh, thank you Paulie!" I smiled and sat back down.

Louis's face was red, he chewed angrily and stared at me. His blue eyes fixed on me in an uncomfortable way, as if he were reading my thoughts.

"What's up, babe?" I asked as Anne, Sam and Peter talked among themselves, I tried to stroke his face but he turned away.

"Nothing." he nodded, and I narrowed my eyes.

Paul returned with my full glass, I took it and thanked him again. Since I was sitting only on the carpet, I decided to do a little stretching. Purposefully, Paul looked at the open buttons of my black blouse that was thin and skinny long. Unconsciously, it was tighter than I usually wore which highlighted my breasts covered by the bra.

Louis seemed to notice, he huffed and ran his hand through his hair. I just ignored him and pretended to pay attention to my friends' conversation.

I felt his arm going around my shoulders and a few kisses on my neck, and I simply held myself together not to react, but it was so good his affection.

"We were talking about Tom before and now I remembered, can you believe that every day he comes into your office and wipes down your desk and computer?" Sam was sharp in the theater, I just wanted to thank her for that.

"And I'll tell you something else, he takes his shoes off before he comes in. " Peter continued.

Broadway was losing these actors to an accounting office. Louis leaned back on one of the sofas and crossed his arms with a brave expression.

"Tom has always been very nice to me." I commented, swirling the rest of the wine in my glass. "But I don't know..."

"I don't know, Y/N?" Louis spoke a little louder, turning his face abruptly to me.

"Yes, Tom is a nice guy but he is the kind of guy who ignores things I say, he was not organized and sometimes we almost missed deadlines... If he is like that at work, who will say to have a relationship with him."

I drank the rest of the wine and almost saw Louis erupt.

"Nothing beyond that stays between you?" I looked at Sam, who put his hand over his mouth, holding back his laughter, as did Anne, Paul, and Peter.

"Nah. " I repeated Louis' murmur from earlier and repeated his motion, leaning back against the couch behind me.

He ran his fingers through his bangs and chuckled gracelessly, denying it with his head. I narrowed my eyes in surprise at his reaction.

"It's getting late isn't it? Want some help cleaning up, petal?" Paul stroked my arm.

"I'll help my girl, Paulie." Louis imitated my voice when I called him and stared at Paul's hand on my arm, moving his mouth as if he were dissatisfied.

We talked some more, Louis was still silent and crossed his arms, his legs intertwined with each other and swinging rapidly.

I knew that Louis was about to explode, so I said goodbye to the guys who thanked me for the evening. Paul gave me a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. They motioned for me to tell them by text what was going to happen, I silently agreed and closed the door.

Louis had gotten up and was removing things from the coffee table. I started to organize the room and finished taking the last dishes to the sink.

"You and this Tom guy, have you ever had anything?" Louis was sponging one of the dishes. His sleeves were rolled up, which gave me a view of the tattoos on his wrist that I liked so much.

I poured myself the rest of the wine and leaned back against the sink where he was standing.

"We only went out together once." Which was true, but it was with the rest of the office and nothing happened because his wife accompanied us and I saw him as a father or even an uncle. I would stay in my tantrum, yes, he was the one who should end his.

"Hm." Louis answered.

"Why the question?"

Louis remained silent, washing the dishes as if it were the most fun thing in the world.

"Louis? If I asked a question, I want an answer." I said angrily, tired of the tantrum.

He continued in silence. I took a deep breath trying to oxygenate my brain and continued to stare at him.

I drank the rest of the wine and left the glass in the sink. I walked slowly to the door, still trying to remain calm.

"Where are you going?" Louis asked.

I just turned and smiled, raising my two middle fingers in his direction.

"Fuck you!" I shouted nervously, pointing at him.

Without waiting for his response, I headed towards my room, but within three steps I felt something pulling me, two cold, wet hands.

Louis might be shorter than most men, but he still possessed great strength.

In one swift movement, I felt him turn me around and my back hit the wall to my right and my head bounced, causing me to grunt in pain.

Louis pressed his body against mine, my hands went up to push his chest.

"I don't want to talk, Louis." I said annoyed, almost in tears already.

"What's up, luv? Your babe wants to know... "Louis brushed his nose across my neck, soon after caressing my face by turning and pulling it slightly to the opposite side, my eyes automatically closed."What were those teasing things earlier?"

My body stiffened, I couldn't hide anything from him.

"Let go of me. " I asked, still pushing him slightly, but it came out more like a groan.

Louis let out a small laugh and began to distribute wet kisses down my neck, sometimes my body betrayed me and shivered.

Louis's right hand, which previously held my waist, lifted my blouse to gain access to the skin of my belly and with a rush, held my right breast, massaging it lovingly.

"I'm sure my girl is getting wet..." His warm breath hitched against the cartilage of my left ear. "You like to tease me by showing off those luscious breasts, but in the end you're all mine, aren't you?"

I groaned as if in agreement. My hands, which before had been pushing her breasts, had moved to her back, scratching the white fabric.

"Who's my little whore? Hm?" His teeth went to my jaw, scraping it lightly, and then down to my neck where I felt pressure being applied.

Oh, hell! He was marking me.

"I-I-I..." I answered weakly and brushed my crotch against his.

My body arched and I held on to his arms, I could already feel the throbbing in between my legs as they buckled.

"My silly little girl!" He moved a few inches away from me and I opened my eyes, staring at Louis's long lashes in front of his blue orbs that were almost covered by his dilated pupils. "I saw what you did with the whole Tom and Paulie thing."

When I regained consciousness, I bit my lower lip and smiled mischievously, returning my hands to his back.

"What are you going to do about it, stud?" I teased.

Louis's hands went around my waist as he made a point of kissing me fiercely and hotly. My hands grabbed his face, pulling him to me, afraid that he would just stop and leave me there, hot and needy for his touch.

His hands went down to unbutton my jeans and unzip me. I let out a moan in anticipation and I could feel him smile in the middle of the kiss.

Louis pulled away from me and spun me around, placing me face down against the wall.

"Louis..." I moaned softly, thrusting my ass toward him.

I felt his pelvis fit over my ass and his member was already hardening, I tried to make more contact, but his hands on my waist stopped me.

"I know, luv... I want you too." I felt his chest against my back as I closed my eyes and rested my head on the wall and pressed my hands against it, trying to support myself. "I want to feel your pussy squeezing my cock as I fuck you very slowly, because I know you like to feel my cock pulsing in you."

I was already dizzy, biting my lower lip trying to hide my moans, until Louis pulled away and his hands hooked on the hem of my jeans and pulled them down.

"Spread your legs, Darlin'"

I did as he cried out, with a little difficulty because my jeans were still binding my legs and the state of my panties was embarrassing.

His hand slid up and down my ass, and then slapped me with his open hand, which made me jump in surprise.

"My girl doesn't like to be neglected, huh?" Shivers ran through me, my breathing was heavy and my brows furrowed and more slaps came, making my skin burn and my eyes water. "You get needy for my cock when I don't fuck you, don't you?"

In one swift act, my panties were keeping company with my jeans. I pushed my hips even higher, rubbing one leg against the other in an effort to relieve the agony my clit felt.

"Daddy will take care of you, luv!" I heard some noises and then the glorious sensation of Louis's hot tongue running over my pussy.

"Louis!" I moaned loudly and his breath hitched against my exposed intimacy as he let out a laugh. His hands grabbed my thighs and spread them even further apart, leaving me wide open for him.

Louis's tongue ran from my sensitive spot to my entrance, sucking and licking. I swayed my hips trying to get closer, but whenever I did he laughed and ran just the tip of it all the way over. My eyes rolled back and a vibration came in the pit of my stomach.

He didn't last long there, but the sound of my wetness clicking on his tongue was something out of reality.

"Babe, please..." My right arm kept pushing against the wall while my left was bent and I massaged my breasts, trying to relieve myself somehow.

"What's wrong, kitten?" Louis groaned and blew against me.

I turned my head to the side and Louis had stood up, taking off his sweatpants along with his underwear and his white jacket, and threw them on the floor beside us.

"Daddy..." I murmured.

Louis' member was hard, and with the glans of his member shiny and pink, his left hand wrapped around it, going up and down slowly. Louis stroked my ass with his free hand, his lower lip was biting and his head eventually fell back as he sighed.

He knew how sexy I found the veins in his hands tensing up and showing as he played with his cock. The tattoos on his wrist added a special touch.

"Lucky for you I want to get it over with, luv... Otherwise you'd have to beg me to fuck you..." He spoke as his cock touched me, dragging and teasing me, making me almost fall to my knees on the floor. "I'm going to fuck your little pussy so hard, babe? I want to hear you moan for the rest of the night, do you want to feel my cock all the way in here?" His finger ran across my entrance, giving me mini shocks in that area.

I mumbled the only sound left in my throat. I turned my face forward and leaned my forehead against the wall. He knew how much I melted for his dirt talk.

My arm against the wall was aching, my forehead was sweaty, and my legs were almost giving way from the way they trembled.

Louis launched himself inside me without warning, burying his wet member until his balls slammed against my clit.

A scream tore through my throat, my nails digging into the wall. Louis didn't even give me time to get used to it, he immediately began thrusting against me. Back and forth, thrusting hard and trying to go all the way in. I was panting as was he, my eyes still closed, enjoying his member filling me.

I turned my face to the side opening my eyes and I could cum right there at the sight, my heart throbbed even more seeing Louis with his nails digging into my hips, his tattooed chest and arms tensed tightly and his head relaxed back with his mouth ajar.

"Fuck!" My eyelids fluttered and I could feel the anguish in my uterus rising.

"My girl is so hot, so warm and tight ... oh!" Louis went down again and if it wasn't for the euphoria, I could feel him almost ripping me in half with his cock slamming against my uterus.

I tilted my head back and one of Louis' hands grabbed my loose hair and formed a sort of ponytail. His hand forced my neck, causing my body to arch and my ass to bulge even more.

My back began to ache as his hipbones crashed against my muscles, he had never caught me this way before and I was already addicted to it. Louis let go of my hair and went back to kneading the sides of my hips.

I put my arm in front of me and bit down on it, feeling my face hit him lightly with the thrusts, my throat aching with the moans, and Louis murmured my name as he tried to sink even deeper inside me.

"Whose pussy is this, babe? Who fucks it hard and the way you like it?" Louis, still not stopping his thrusts, rotated his hips and a wave of ecstasy hit me at the cervix. My pussy clenching rapidly, I was getting there. Louis fucked me so fast that I couldn't even scream.

"You, babe! Only you, Louis!" I spoke softly and felt him kiss me on my back.

"Are you sure, babygirl?" Louis teased and again I felt his chest against my spine.

His cock was halfway out of me and seconds later I was already missing him, which didn't last long as I pushed my hips back against him, burying his cock back into me. I stood on my tiptoes and his member reached the hidden spot that Louis sometimes managed to reach.

"Come on my cock, babe! Because I'm going to mark you, fill you with my milk... Do you want it, my naughty little girl?"

My breath came out of my lungs in a sharp intake of breath. My body exploded inside, shuddering as Louis forced himself to orgasm. Small jolts ran through me, and the ground no longer seemed to be beneath my feet.

My man's nails sank into my skin, his thrusts became sloppy and a loud moan came from Louis' chest, his cock swelled even more inside me and I felt hot spurts fill me, joining my liquid. He groaned loudly and his hands gripped my waist tightly, easing the grip seconds later. Violent trembling came over my knees, causing me to close my eyes in shame as Louis continued inside me and hugged me from behind.

"What's up, Luv? Did I hurt you?" He pushed my hair away from my sweaty, flushed face. Louis kissed the top of my head and I could feel some shocks from the orgasm still being delivered and the delicious feeling of having him inside me.

I nodded positively and then negatively, answering his questions.

"Sorry about the last few days, I was so distracted, thinking about the new album, and then I realized that I didn't do the right thing to the point where my perfect girl insinuated herself to our friend and they talked about some guy at work."

"How did you find out?" I lay my face against the wall, feeling the frosty, chilling cold on my face. I was tired, almost closing my eyes.

"I know you, darlin'... You can't lie, your sign says so."

I covered my face in shame that he knew my shameful secret. Louis pulled his member out of me and already I felt it go limp, Louis tightened his embrace around my buttocks and his arms wrapped around mine, tucking me in.

"Thanks for not giving up on your Capricorn. He'll pay more attention to his girl."

I nodded and turned around, kissing him slowly, feeling his tongue caress mine calmly and tenderly. He was everything to me, giving him up would be the last thing I would ever do.

I pulled away still hugging him and could see his sweaty bangs.

"Thanks for the sex against the wall, it was amazing." I blinked, placing a kiss on his chin.

"Maybe tomorrow you'll rethink it." His face turned into a smile, kissing my cheeks.

I stared at him even longer, not understanding his statement.

"Uh... I may or may not have left some... marks." He gave me his best puppy dog face, squeezed my ass, and kissed my neck lightly.

I rolled my eyes eagerly to see these possible marks.

"All right, they're marks from my Capricorn..." I said, kissing him and jumping on his lap. "But if you ignore me again, you won't have sex against the wall or anywhere else." I shook his shoulder to get his attention and he agreed.

"No more Capricorn stuff!" He promised, raising his right hand.

Astrology thing or not, I loved the guy standing in front of me.

[lilith-of-rivia]

Monster House

Trigger Warnings: Claustrophobia, mentions of self-hatred, self-degrading voice, panic/anxiety attack, mentions of blood and gore.

Summary: after Geralt lashes out at you and leaves you alone in a house, you have an anxiety attack/panic attack.

Word Count: 1,676

Paring: DAD!GeraltXFemaleMinorDAUGHTERReader

Request: Hello! Could you write one where the reader is Geralt's child surprise. Reader is in her teens and gets in trouble. Geralt is pissed and grounds her. Reader cannot leave the house. The reader has developing claustrophobia so no fresh air for a while eventually gets to her. Reader starts to have an anxiety attack but doesn't dare go outside for a quick breath of fresh air. Geralt comes home and tries to calm her down and stuff. Thank youuu!!! 🥺🥺🥺

@theichabbieclub

Thank you for the request, my dear, so sorry for the wait. Hope you like it?

“Geralt! You’re being unreasonable. I didn’t do anything wrong!!” You yelled. Your hair was a mess around your face. Dirt smeared all over with some blood that thankfully didn’t belong to you.

“Did nothing wrong??” Geralt’s face to you, now eye level. He had to bend down to be eye to eye with you. His eyes searched yours. You could see the anger, fear, and concern on his face. Something you had only ever seen, no one else got to see that.

He sighed heavily, his hands rubbing down his tired face. He was attempting to calm himself down, knowing he could sometimes be a bit too harsh with you.

“You deliberately left the house after me. You could’ve gotten killed.”

“-But I didn’t.” He sighed, grabbing your chin in his hand making you look at him.

You did leave the safety of the house, even when he said no. You wanted to come with him. It was only a pack of wolves. Nothing he couldn’t handle and you wanted to help, more than anything. You hated not being able to help him with anything, you could never do anything unless he was by your side. He or Jaskier. It made you feel like a burden.

“You’re right you didn’t. But you could’ve. You’re not to leave this house for three days. You stay in here, read the books Yen gave you. Unless I am by your side you do not step foot past that threshold. Do you understand me?” His voice was deep, stern, mean. You hated it when you got grounded. You sighed deeply, nodding in agreement.

“Good. I’m very disappointed in you Y/N.” He stood again, his back to you. Before you could say anything else he was out the door. You had half a mind to follow him but chose to listen to him. His lingering disappointment still thick in the hot air of the cramped house.

You walked to the corner of the small room, sitting down in the pile of blankets. You grabbed one of the herbal books Yennerfir gave to you and began reading. No matter how many times you reread the same paragraph about mugwort you couldn’t absorb the material. You were getting hotter and hotter, the hot summer sun now at its full peak at noon making the small cabin you were in getting hotter. You grabbed your water canteen and slugged it down. To your disappointment, Geralt had taken his own with him.

“This isn’t a house, it’s a shack. With walls enclosing it around me.” You huffed to yourself. Gathering your hair in your hands you tied it back, hoping it would help. But it did nothing. The room began to feel smaller, tighter. The air getting thicker.

Your mind wandered over Geralt’s words.

“He’s right. I’m such a disappointment. He should’ve left me years ago.” Your hot tears began to stream down your red cheeks. You put your hands on your face, holding it tightly, squeezing it as your eyes shut. You tried to not let these thoughts penetrate your head, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were a burden to Geralt. He constantly had to do things for you. You never did anything for yourself even if you wanted to. No matter how hard you tried you always felt like you were only a burden on him.

Your breathing became ragged and harsh as you cowered into the corner. Your body trembled, the walls around you closing in around you as you watched the floor move up and down like a monster’s mouth.

“If you ever need me; scream my name, I’ll hear you.”

His voice echoed through your head as you moved to the window. You pushed the small glass panel open and sat below it feeling the very soft breeze that came through. Your throat felt like it was closing. Your body shaking more as you cried harder, the thoughts of Geralt not coming back for you.

“GERALT PLEASE COME BACK!!!” Your screams echoed off the walls of the house. Your head in your hands as you cried harder and harder, your throat beginning to hurt.

“Please...please...please...please come back Geralt.” Your head began to get heavy as you laid on the hard floor. The door of the house flew open, but you didn’t have the energy to open your eyes, but you knew it was him. His smell was all too familiar to you. His arms quickly grabbed your limp body pulling you into his chest, his hand quickly grabbed your chin making your face turn to him, your eyes still not opening. You couldn’t.

“Jesus Y/N, your burning up. Did you eat something bad??” His voice was full of panic, it made your heart hurt. All I ever do is cause you pain. Your thoughts were filling your small head, making it harder for you to stop crying.

“The house is eating me.” You crooked out. He quickly lifted you, carrying you quickly out of the house. The fresh air instantly made you take in a breath, your tears subsiding.

You could hear the splash of water as Geralt walked into the river near the cabin. He kneeled into the water, using his hand to cup cold water pouring it over your face.

“Open your mouth.” You did as he asked and drank the cold water from his hand. Your senses slowly started to return, your eyes opened and the bright sun made them burn. You slowly moved them around the running water. You could feel Gerlt’s fingers stroking your hair behind your ears as he completely sat in the water, no regard for his clothes. You locked eyes and gave him a weak smile.

“What happened?” His voice was softer than before, it was deep, comforting. Made you feel safe, even in the unsafe world you lived in.

“I feel like nothing but a burden...you never trust me to do anything on my own. It's like I’m a leach to you…” you couldn’t look at him, closing your eyes feeling the cold water rush into your back.

“You're not a leach, you're my kid. It's my job to protect you.” your eyes snapped back to his own. For years he never referred to you as his kid, or his daughter. At least not out loud. He treated you like his daughter. He was all you ever had when it came to parents, other than Yennefer.

His hand gently combed your hair from your face, sitting you up fully, your legs submerged in the cool rushing water.

“If something happened to you, if you died I wouldn’t be able to live in this world.” The smile that overtook your face made him roll his eyes playfully.

“You love me.” You cooed in a sing-song voice as you pointed your small finger at his face. He grunted, rolling his eyes.

“Of course I do, kid. I didn't have much meaning in life before I found you.” Your smile only grew as the big bad witcher gushed about his kid.

“Could you actually say it?” You asked, lifting your head slightly as he washed the dirt from his arms, you two slowly separating, leaving a foot between your bodies as you sat in the water.

“Say what?”

“That you love me. You've only ever said it once. But I don't think you meant to then.” Geralt eyebrows furrowed together.

“When?”

“A long time ago, you had gotten badly beaten by a group of banshees. Yen found you and brought you back with her. She had no one else to help, so I had to. I was barely eleven yet. It was scary, you were all… bloody, and cold. Your eyes were stuck open- corps like.” Your eyes were looking all over his body, and the earth around you. The story was never easy for you to remember, but you never forgot it.

“I honestly hate that I remember it so much, I remember watching Yen cry as she tried her best to stitch you back up. She just kept begging and pleading with ever god she thought was listening to her. It was horrible.” Geral's hand gently held yours, his finger softly stroking the back of your hand.

“I didn't forget it though. You woke up the next day, and I've never cried harder.” You said with a soft laugh.

“I hugged you, too tight and it hurt you. And I said I was sorry and I was just happy you didn't die. And you asked me why...I didn't know why you asked that stupid question. So I just said because I loved you. And you said it back. But you haven't sense. And honestly, if I'm your kid, you should say it more often. Because only telling me after you die really fucking sucks.” This time he laughed.

“I love you, Y/N. More than any father could ever love his child.” his arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest as you held onto him, a smile ear to ear.

“I love you too, fuck face.” he groaned into your hair as he rested his chin on top of your head.

“I'm like this because of you.” You mumbled and he nodded his head, humming softly.

[fa1ryofshampoo]

hii! i was wondering if you could do a smut request for heeseung please? where him and the reader are basically always getting cockblocked by the other members leaving both of y’all fed up(especially heeseung). until one day all the boys leave, so heeseung takes out his pent up anger? (i don’t know how describe it lol) on the reader. you can make it as detailed as you want!

thank you and have a great day! <3

hello! here it is! i enjoyed writing this aaA, i hope i did okay here huhu thank you for the request and stay safe! 💟

Thirsty

pairing: lee heeseung x reader

–––––

Today, I have the whole afternoon to myself. Thanks to the strength and power I had I was able to finish the tasks up until noon time. I lie down my bed and scrolled through my phone when my boyfriend's name appeared on my screen, a call incoming.

"Heedeungie." He chuckled at my cute voice.

"Y/N, how are you? Are you busy?"

"I'm good, I'm not busy. I have finished my tasks so I have the rest of the day to spare." I responded.

"Would you like to come over here? I cooked something for the two of us since the boys are all out." I sensed some shyness in his voice on the last sentence. A smile formed on my lips because of my boyfriend's thoughtfulness.

"Okay! I'll text you once I'm near there." We both said our goodbyes and I went to change clothes. Since I'm on the mood to wear something fancier than just jeans and a shirt, I went for a casual dress and a denim jacket matched with my boots. I brushed my hair and gave my pout a touch of my favorite lip tint before I stepped out of my apartment. Dang, it's cold.

While sitting on the bus, I tought of the times me and Heeseung spent on their dorm. Most of the time, the two of us will watch movies or play board games that will eventually end up to us making out in their room. Heeseung, as my first boyfriend, is clingy. He will not hesitate to make the first move and make me feel things I haven't felt before and I love that. One day, when we thought about finally having sex after and when we first tried to do it, Jungwon suddenly knocked on the room saying that the foods they ordered were there already. I remember clearly how hard he was at that time, how I sat on his erection restricted by his boxers and how my school skirt was bunched up to my waist, ready for what was about to happen. But although Heeseung is clingy, he gets pretty flustered easily. That's why when we got interrupted, I know we won't be able to continue anymore. When I came there another time, Heeseung forgot to lock the door so Sunghoon suddenly barged in, thinking the two of us are just chillin' because he heard songs playing inside. But then again, we were almost discarding our clothes. And again, we're interrupted.

Just everytime, every single time we would want to have sex, something has to come up and take away the moment from the both of us. I noticed how Heeseung was flustered and shy the first time it happened and how he was disappointed the last time we got interrupted. I'm wondering if the same thing will happen today even if the boys are out.

I finally saw the familiar sight of their dorm so I went down the bus and texted Heeseung that I'm about to cross the road. Before I could even cross the road, Heeseung was already outside waiting for me. When I reached him he immediately embraced me. He smells so freakin' good, goodness gracious. He wore just plain white shirt and a black baggy sweatpants. His hair now black with an almost mullet making him even more attractive. Can he get even more attractive?

"Someone missed me so much, the stares are melting me." I lightly slapped his arm making him laugh.

When I entered the dorm, Heeseung closed the door and trapped me between his arms, devouring my mouth. I was a bit surprised but immediately responded to the kiss. His hands ran down my hands and I can feel him taking his time. We're not rushing things and we're letting our bodies move accordingly. To my dismay, my stomach grumbled in the middle of our make out sesh. Heeseung opened his eyes, chuckling after he realized my stomach complained. I looked at him apologetically and before I could say anything, Heeseung opened his mouth to speak. "It's okay, Y/N. I know I prepared food and before they get cold and you collapse from hunger let's eat now." No wonder I had a big time crush on him up until now.

After eating the foods he prepared, he took my hand and played some upbeat songs to dance jam with. We continued to dance and converse until we finally felt like sitting already. We sat on the couch and decided to drink some soju.

"Time flies so fast, it's already four in the afternoon. When will the boys come home?" I asked him while he poured me a drink.

"Jungwon, Sunoo and Ni-Ki will be home by nine I guess. They said they'll be having dinner outside. Sunghoon, Jake and Jay won't be home until tomorrow morning due to their personal errands." My mouth formed an 'o'. It's very rare that the boys go out and have time of their own.

"Thank you for spending your spare time with me. I really appreciate it." I raised my glass and took a shot of it. "Oh, shoot. That still hits!" My face grimaced with the taste of alcohol. Heeseung laughed at my expression. He know how low my alcohol tolerance is so he never lets me finish a bottle to myself. After a few more shots, I know that tipsy is enough so I stopped. Heeseung drank the remaining drink. Despite the cold weather, sweat formed on his temples. I took a good look at the sight in front of me. My boyfriend, gulping from the bottle, adam's apple shifting with every gulp, his shirt hanging low down to his chest, eyebrows furrowing from the aftertaste of the alcohol. Heavenly.

"You might drool, sweetheart." To my surprise, Heeseung was already mere centimeters away from my face. He played with the lace of the hem of my dress. "You dolled up for me today with this dress despite the fact we're staying at home and it's freezing cold outside." I can only look at him, too tempted of his actions. "I see you wore the lip tint I gave you. I was right when I thought it would suit you." His gaze went down to my lips. He held my hand and I squeezed it.

No words needed, he gave me wet kisses on my neck. "Do you know how much I waited to finally have time with you alone?" He managed to mumble while still kissing my jaw and everywhere else he could. I can feel he's getting impatient but he still made sure to savor every moment. I can only hum as a response. I turned his head to mine and kissed him. The taste and the flavor of the drink lingered everytime our tongues fought. "Your lips taste so good, Heeseung." He bit my bottom lip and held my hair to deepen the kiss. Fervor grew each and every minute, my denim jacket, his shirt and sweatpants now discarded while he held my thighs and I straddled him. He held onto my ass before standing up and giving it a sharp slap that made me yelp. I can feel the erection growing from his sweatpants. I rolled my hips to make my pooling core meet his member that made him groan. I noticed how his half-lidded eyes are now filled with so much lust.

"Heeseung, please just fuck me now." I continued to roll my hips in his. Growing impatient, he pinned me to the wall and bunched my dress up to my waist. He took his cock out and pushed my panties aside. He held my waist as I slowly sat down on his thick cock. When I was finally halfway, he thrusted up and picked up his pace immediately. His movements show how much he's thirsty to do this all along. Heeseung played and flicked my nipples with his tongue while kneading the other one. I didn't know how to react, all I know was the dorm was filled with our moaning noises. "You know how much I wanted to pound into you like this, hm? I know you wanted me to fuck you too huh don't you?" His brows furrowed while his eyes remained filled with lust. "Want me to fuck you real hard? Use your words baby."

"Yes, Heeseung please!" Tears started forming in my eyes from pleasure. "Yeah, I like that. Always say please, baby." I rolled my hips to meet his movements and moaned directly into his ear. I kissed the spot behind his ear making him moan. Heeseung opened their room and lay me down his bed without breaking our kiss and position. Once I was comfortably laying down, he took one of my legs up and placed it on his shoulders. I ran my hands on his well-built chest and his abs. I took time to admire my heavenly-looking boyfriend hungrily fucking me. "Fuck, Heeseung. You look so hot." I cannot contain it any longer. "You too, Y/N, you look hotter than hell." He pulled my dress up and throwing it somewhere in the room, leaving me with my underwear. He took away my bra and without a warning, he tore my panties not wanting to pull out from me. My mouth opened agape in surprise from him tearing my panty and his thrusts growing even faster, hitting a spot that made me emit a high-pitched moan. "Just like that, baby. Doing so good for me." He held onto my waist in the tightest way possible to hold me in place.

"So fucking tight." His growl made me unconsciously clench around him. He kneaded my breasts while the room was filled with the noise of our skin slapping, his growls and my moans. "Fuck, Y/N, I'm gonna cum." He continued to moan my name each time. I didn't know his thrusts could still grow faster and deeper, a knot forming in my stomach making me hold onto his bicep while moaning his name. He drew circles on my aching clit, enough to overstimulate me. It's so intense my legs were shaking and my toes curling. "Me too, Heeseung. I-I'm cumming." He kissed me and rode my high until his own high came, my name and curses leaving his mouth. He pulled out and came on my stomach.

After catching our breaths from the intensity, Heeseung got up to grab tissues and clean the mess. "Finally, no one interrupted us." I chuckled. "Yeah, finally. I was really looking forward to finally having you to myself, Y/N." He covered my body with blanket before lying down beside me. "It's cold, jagi. Please hug me~" This was his complete opposite minutes ago. I snuggled to his chest, bodies sweaty but none of us cared. He wrapped his arms around my body and hummed me a lull while caressing my hair. What an adorable yet thirsty baby, I thought.

[dragon-of-dreams]

A Debt to pay

My Masterlist

Pairing: dark!mafia!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: noncon; breading kink; threats, murder, readers parents are dead, reader getting hit across the face, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! Seariously, this is some really dark shit with some astonishingly soft sx... No idea how that happened... 18+!!!

No mentions of y/n, and reader is kinda an off because she has a back-story but no physical descriptors are used.

Summary: Your dad dies unexpectedly and you take over running the family cafè. The costs for your daddy’s funeral bring the head of the Barnes family to your doorstep as you struggle to keep up with the payments for a loan you had no idea your dad had taken out with them. You get “offered” an alternative method of payment.

a/n: this was a request by the lovely @oneoftheprettynerds

I hope I did it justice! Thank you for being the most patient person in the world, when Covid, life, exams, life and so on and so forth got in the way of your wish!

Prompt: Can I please get a dark mafia bucky or peter with noncon and breeding kink? With a side of people hitting on reader

 Wordcount: 2,800

 In all seriousness, you had to consider yourself lucky. Most people in this small city had it worse than you. Most didn’t have their own business, certainly not at your age, and most would never have enough money to even dream about that. Your town had the habit of sucking money out of people faster than they could make it and as of late that was also the case for you.

           After your dad had died unexpectedly in a car crash, money had been tight, really tight. You’d never known how fucking expensive funerals were and his drained all the savings you had, just before you’d managed to scrambled together enough for a community college education in business. Now you were left an orphan in your early twenties running a café on only the knowledge you’d learnt from your dad with no prospects of an education. Now you were as stuck as everybody else in town.

           What made matters even worse was the bill you’d gotten two weeks after the funeral. A bill from the one company in town nobody wanted one from. Rich men running successful businesses on the backs of the honest town’s people by draining their money. The mafia. Sharks in suits.

           According to the bill your dad had borrowed money from them 10 years ago. Your best guess was that he had needed it for your mother’s funeral and had never told you. Be that how it may, you didn’t know how to pay that bill. So you asked for time and put in extra hours, keeping the café open til late at night.

           You hated the extra hours. Not only because you got less sleep and had to work so much more and couldn’t afford to hire more employees but also because the later it got the more aggressively people hit on you.

           You hated them. All those men coming in once the sun set, calling you their sweetheart like you were property and grabbing at you and you having to smile and flirt because you needed their tips. Desperately. And yet it seemed to make no difference. There was just no money to be made in this town.

           Bucky Barnes, the head of the Romanov family had given you two months to come up with the next payment, and you knew that you’d end up dead in a ditch with them ceasing your café if you didn’t make it.

           So you smiled and joked with the moms coming in in the mornings and afternoons and flirted and swayed for their husbands at night. When you were in your little apartment above the café after you finally closed you usually cried yourself to sleep. And all throughout the day you would see him. See Bucky fucking Barnes watching you. At first you thought you were imagining it, but he was driving past your café in way too regular intevals, and would even occasionally take up one of your tables. You always sent other staff to serve him, you couldn’t bare to go to him, but his cold blue eyes never left you.

           Over those two month it became abundantly clear that you would never manage to come up with $2,000. And when one of Bucky’s men came in on the Wednesday before the Friday the payment was due, you thought of the 1,200 bucks you’d managed and wanted to cry.

           You knew the man, you’d gone to school with his younger brother Peter who had been a royal pain in your ass, having provided a glimpse of the harassment by the men you now faced every evening. Still you smiled at him: “Steve, hi, what can I get you?” ignoring that you had already flipped your sign to closed and where moping the floors.

           “Hi y/n, a coffee would be great, if you still got some” Steve answered while inspecting your café like he already owned the place.

           “Sure thing!” You tried to sound chipper, but the strain in you voice was audible, as you went behind the counter and got the machine going.

“Sugar? Milk?” you asked, with your back turned to Steve, hoping to draw out the inevitable.

“Just sugar, thanks.” Steve sounded gruff and distant and you knew you’d lost. He probably already knew that you wouldn’t be able to pay. He had accompanied Bucky a bunch of times, never ordered anything, just watched and listened, as Bucky drank or ate. The men had attracted stares. Not only because they were mafia, but because for personified devils, they sure looked like gods.

As you set his coffee before him he asked: “So what can I tell my boss to expect on Friday?” You stared at Steve in his perfectly tailored suit in harsh contrast to the homey but ultimately grimy café surrounding him as you decided on what to say. He looked amazing, and you hated him for it.

Steve raised an eyebrow at you. He was getting impatient. “I… I have a little over half.” You muttered and looked down at your hands, twisted tightly together. “My daddy’s funeral cost so much money, and I” you were interrupted by Steve’s fist hitting the countertop, making you flinch. His rage was pouring out of him so suddenly, taking over everything else. He seethed: “Safe your excuses, little girl. Just make sure to get the money. Bucky isn’t as lenient as I am.” With that, Steve got up from the bar, drained his coffee in one long gulp and left without giving you the chance to beg. You would have. You would do anything now if it meant saving your life. ‘Lenient’, you thought. How was any of this lenient?

           On Friday morning, you didn’t want to get up, much less open the café, but you did both. You put a notice outside that you would close earlier tonight, so Barnes and his henchmen wouldn’t scare off your customers and then you went to work.

           The entire day felt like molasses. Time didn’t move at all, it left you fidgety and nervous. You screwed up more orders than you were willing to admit and then suddenly time jumped and it was 6 p.m. and the sun was setting and you’d closed the café down, pulled all curtains closed except for the front door and were sitting there, waiting. What for, you didn’t know.

           At 6:30 a black limousine came to a stop before your café and Barnes and Peter got out. Which you decided was a good sign. Surley if they were to kill you, they would’ve brought some muscle, not lanky Peter… Bucky Barnes wouldn’t get his hands dirty with you, would he? Or was that what Peter was for? Did he still have to prove himself in the company?

           As Bucky entered you wished it would just end now. To your sheer horror, Peter stayed outside, blocking the door, leaving you all alone with the man you feared most in this world. He looked just like everytime he’d previously entered your café. His suit fit perfectly and you could see the muscle beneath. He was astonishingly beautiful. If he only were so on the inside as well, you mused.

“Hi sweetheart,” Bucky drawled as he approached you, “Steve told me you don’t have my money.” You shrunk in on yourself, but nodded, as Bucky came to tower over you.

“That’s not good, angel, not at all. Why don’t you come out from behind the counter and we sit down and talk about it, huh?”

All you could do was nod. “What happened? Cat got your tongue?” Bucky teased as he grabbed you by the elbow and led you to a boot in the corner of the café, way out of view from the front door. His touch was startingly kind. You had prepared for pain, but were met with kind support. Your brow furrowed.

“I…” You looked up at him. “I g got $1,300. I know that’s not enough, but”

“Shh.” Bucky murmured and pushed you down onto the bench, took of his suit jacket, hung it carefully over a nearby chair and then caged you in by sitting at your side. You were trapped and you were shaking with fear.

Bucky was so much taller than you and even through his perfectly tailored black dressshirt you could see his muscles bulging. You couldn’t decide weather you wanted to start sobbing into his chest or punch him in the stomach. “Steve already told me all about that, angel, don’t worry, I already came up with a new payment plan.”

“You’re not mad?” you question, to terrified to be hopeful.

“Well, I am not thrilled, but I’ve always had a softspot for this place. My pa used to take me when I was little. I watched you grow up, you know?”

Hope bloomed like desert rose in your heart. He knew you! He had a connection to you! That surely meant he wouldn’t kill you. You’d figure out the money. Suddenly you were certain that you could do it.

“really? That’s – I never knew…” Your voice was fluttering with hope.

“Well, it’s a small town.” Bucky’s voice was calm and soothing. You almost forgot that you were squished between him and the wall.

“And with me seeing you grow up, and seeing all the other women in town I decided that you would give me an heir to take here. To watch people with, so he too could choose his wife. An heir for me and forgiveness for your debt and a happy home life for you.” Your world stopped spinning. It screeched to a halt.

“What? No, Bucky, I…” Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulled you close. The arm was tight across you back and stole your words from you as fear spread from every spot he touched throughout your entire body.

“You’re a hard worker, you have a drive for better and higher things. I like that. It’ll make you a diligant mother, you know angel? And that is what I need. A good mother to the boy who will inherit this town, don’t you agree?”

You sit there frozen, unable to reply. Your brain is going a thousand miles an hour trying to find a way, any way, to get away, but before you can do anything Bucky grabs your right hand and presses it to his crotch. He’s hard. The calm demeanour falls off him suddenly as he growls: “Here is how this will go, angel,” he starts to move your hand up and down his crotch, “I will let go of your hand and you will undo my pants and get me ready and then I will have that little pussy of yours on this table. I mean it ain’t romantic, but once you are my little wife I’ll make up for that, sweetheart.”

You swallow hard, press your eyes closed and feel him move his hand over the fine cotton of his suit and his hard length underneath, then you force yourself to nod. It’s a jerking, hurtful motion, but Bucky released you hand, as he leans back on the bench, spreading his legs, opening himself up to you.

You want to thrash out, but instead you shaking hands wander to his belt. “Go on, now. we ain’t got all night, darling.” You are tearing up, but do as you’re told. You lean slightly over him and undo his belt first, then his pants. His cock strains against his boxer briefs and you gulp. Bucky lifts his hips and you push his pants and underwear down.

His cock is beautiful. Long and thick and veined and you can’t help but press your thighs together at the sight. Bucky notices and smirks down at you. “Now that’s a good girl. Keep it up and I make sure you enjoy yourself!” he whispers in your ear as he guides your hands to his dick.

As you jerk him, you realize that you underestimated his size. Your fucked. Literally. There is no way you’re gonna enjoy this. Bucky shoves his left hand up your skirt suddenly and you freeze until he clears his throat and startles you back into action, while his fingers start exloring your sex.

“You know,” Bucky explains, “I find it helps ladies to go down on a guy before actually fucking. Gets them nice and ready, you know?” One of his fingers slides into your tight chanel, “But with you it seems we don’t need that. The sight of my cock alone made you cream. I knew there was something special about you!” He grins and removes his hand. “We might still have to work on your handjob skills though…” he muses, grips your hand and removes it form his dick, as he gets up.

You shrink back but he pulls you out after him. Finally, blessedly, your panic response sets in any you try to struggle, but Bucky’s hold on your arm tightens painfully and his left hand hits you across the face before you even see it coming and it makes your world spin. “Stop it, now!” Bucky barks at you and you freeze. Your feeble attempts forgotten as Bucky lifts you onto the table and rips your panties off. You start sobbing as he bends your right leg to your shoulder and situates himself.

“Sssh,” he cooes at you softly, “I’ll make it better, baby, just one moment.” His suddenly warm voice lulls you into a false sense of security as you stare into his deep blue eyes. They are bewitching you, and you only feel him push in when it’s too late.

He sheethes himself in one agonizingly long stroke. The pain breaks you out of your reverie, you arch your back and groan. It hurts! It hurts so much, and yet you want more, so much more. “Bucky!” you plead, you sob, you whine and once more there it is, the calm voice of the devil now owning your life, rolling in like the tide washing over you, calming you. “I know my sweet pet, I know, just relax now. Just breathe.” And you do. You can’t help yourself.

Bucky lets out a pained moan as you settle around him, and once your clenched eyes flutter back open, once your back comes back down from its painful arch, the god above you starts to move. Every drag and push is better than the last. He hits home every time. His dick lights up a pathway to your pleasure, with every sharp, hard, relentlessy painful thrust, in time with his pubic hair grinding against your clit. A particularly hard thrust shifts his cock so it hits your cervix and you scream with pain and pleasure. Your arms reach up, your hands burying themselves in his thick hair as Bucky leans in closer to you, bending you in half on that table, and nuzzles at your neck as he starts to hammer into you. Every thrust is pure bliss. You want to feel ashamed, you want to push him away, but all you can feel is the drag and glide of his cock, his pelvis against your clit, his tip hitting your cervix. You are on fire and the coil in your core is ready to explode. The intensity of Bucky’s thrusts never wavers, even as you feel him swell even further as his balls draw up and that tiny change breaks you, your orgasm explodes and you cry out in ecstatic pleasure, just as Bucky falters and shoots his cum in thick long strokes into you. His warmth joing yours as he lazily pumps to stop within you.

You only come back to yourself as Bucky pulls out slowly and you can feel your combined, cooling spend trickle down your legs. He eases your leg back down and kisses you softly as you start crying. “Ssh, darling, you’re alright. You’re done. Your debt is paid and you’ll be my wife in no time, the mother to my heir. You did so good, angel!” He coos sweet nothing at you until you can control your crying enough to speak.

“Bucky, I’m not on anything! What if it really takes?” you whimper, emerging from the fantasy he built up in your head.

“That is rather the point!” He snaps harshly. The calm voice gone as quickly as it emerged. You shiver as you realize the extent of what he said before. He really meant it all… Bucky pulls up his pants. “Pack up your things, lovely, tomorrow I’ll pick you up and you are moving in with me, so I can keep an eye on you!” With that Bucky pulls on his suit jacket and heads for the door, as you struggle to sit up, shaking and crying.

At the door Bucky looks back at you, his voice a lot calmer again: “I’m real happy about our new business arrangement as it ensures you will be staying with me, little girl. If only your daddy would have agreed to let me have you, his car wouldn’t have had to end up wrapped around a tree so your little college fund would go away. Sleep tight now, Mama, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Life size mannequin.

Erik’s girl uses him as a mannequin but Erik takes it too far and it back fires.

If you were to ask Y/N how she gets everything done she wouldn’t be able to give you a straight forward answer. Juggling school, a full time job, and a side hussle isn’t for the delicate and inadequate. Staying up until 2 AM with flash cards sprawled out on the living room table and a ratty mannequin head between her legs every night, Y/N fights much needed rest to recharge for the next days events. That’s not the only thing her teeming life has to offer. Y/N’s new boyfriend, Erik would be seen as a distraction to some but she can hold her own without slacking on her studies, missing a days work, or forgetting to do a clients hair. He’s handsome, fun, intriguing, smart, and that dick...it needs its own SSN and certificate. It’s own area code even. If she had to admit it, whenever her mind drifted to their bodies tangled in her sheets, moaning and groaning, she lost focus just a little bit.

Y/N is off on a Friday for once and instead of catching up on rest, Y/N decided to use her entire day making a closure wig for a friend and client. It’s a 24 inch body wave natural black lace frontal. No shedding, very soft, bouncy, with overall great quality. If only her lousy mannequin head would keep still!!! Y/N gave up after the mannequin head slipped from her grip. She usually has a wig stand with a mannequin head attached to the end but all of them are covered with other wigs that didn’t need to be ruined. The old fashioned way brought her back to how frustrating it was to practice. And to make things worse, Erik is strolling back and forth in front of her naked after his shower and completely ignoring her closet stocked with plenty of towels. When he stopped in front of her, his strapping thighs and that lethal weapon dangling she felt her face grow warm and her belly grow butterflies.

“You’re not helping, jerk,” Y/N said as she continued sewing. She was almost finished.

“I haven’t seen you in a few days and the one time I have a chance to spend time with you, this is what you do.”

“This wig is past due, Erik. I was supposed to get this to her two days ago. Thank God she had some shit going on herself otherwise I would be losing a client.”

Erik gave up trying to seduce Y/N and grabbed a pair of briefs from his travel bag.

“Whatever, you owe me some after this,” Erik sat down on the bed, leaning on one elbow, “You really into this.”

“And?” Y/N sassed.

“I’m just saying. Why not be a full time hair stylist?”

“Because I don’t want to do this for a living. Why else would I be in school for something that has nothing to do with hair? It’s just money to make on the side.”

The mannequin slipped again and Erik burst out laughing.

“I wanna see you try it since you find my struggle funny.”

“Oh, you don’t want me to do it I’ll fuck that whole wig up.”

Y/N ignored his smart remark.

“I’ll come over there and mess that shit right up and make you start over.”

“Erik, I’m not in the mood right now leave me alone,” Y/N cut her eyes at him, “Try me if you want I will take the end of this needle and dig it in one of them keloids. Make it pop like bubble wrap, think I’m playing.”

“You forget you’re talking to someone with a pain kink. Why you think my pain receptors fucked up?”

“So, you mean to tell me, if I boil some hot water right now and pour it on your leg...you wouldn’t feel pain?”

Erik frowned his face into a mug at Y/N as he cocked his head back. The widening of his eyes is what made her giggle.

“You don’t know how to love me all you wanna do is hurt a nigga. What is wrong with you?”

“I’m only messing with you—”

“No you’re not. If I say some shit you don’t like I get slapped upside my head. If I want to be in a playing mood you threaten me with that little fist of yours. Just admit it, you enjoy tormenting me.”

“You’re so Goddamn dramatic,” Y/N tilted her mannequin head forward, “Can you do me a huge favor?”

“If it involves getting up off this bed the answer is fuck no,” Erik said while lying on his back now with his legs hanging over the edge of the bed.

“I already know you’re about to say no but...I want you to let me use you as my mannequin.”

“Huh?”

The way his voice rose an octave has Y/N laughing.

“Can you let me put this wig on you so I can finish this?”

Erik’s brows shot up as his eyes landed on her, “Why? So you can sneak and take a picture? I’m not falling for that.”

“Erik c’mon now. I just need your head for a second and that’s it.”

“I can think of other ways you can use my head but instead you wanna put some weave on me.”

Erik sat up and swung his legs around to face Y/N. Erik leans forward on his knees, staring at the wig with a steady blink.

“What size is that shit anyway? You know I have locs so...how the hell is that supposed to fit on my head?”

“I’ll just...fit it over that pineapple on top of your head.”

“Jokes,” Erik reached up and took out the elastic band that held his tapered locs. Shaking his head, his locs fell over his eyes, “I’m not putting that on my head.”

“Not even for me?” Y/N pouts, “Not your favorite girl?”

“I know you, Y/N. You’re gonna put that shit on my head, take a picture, and post it. I’m not falling for the shit. I told you that.”

“Whatever. You got a big ass dome anyway and this wig is average size.”

“Now you’re tryna clown me?” Erik said with a half smirk on his full lips flashing a bit of his gold canines.

“It’s like...mad wide from front to back...no wonder you keep your hair long—”

“I know you ain’t talking shit with that ginormous ass forehead, girl.”

“I thought you said all the fine girls got big foreheads?” Y/N bat her lashes at Erik.

“That’s what’s helping you out. First time I saw you I was thinking damn, this bitch got a big ass forehead. And don’t think I forgot about how you played me when you sent that cropped picture.”

“Boy, fuck you!!” Y/N shouted over Erik’s laughter.

“I was—I was looking at the picture like where the rest of her face go?!”

Y/N glared at Erik as he dissolved into laughter.

“It’s really not that funny. Now are you gonna help me or not?!”

“Aight, I’ll do it this one time.” Erik sat up with one hand resting against his abdomen while the other wiped away tears, “Where do you want me?”

“On the floor between my legs, DUH where the fuck else would you be?”

He began dying laughing again from Y/N’s obvious annoyance. Erik took his place on the floor while Y/N climbed behind him onto the bed with each leg dangling on either side of him. Y/N takes the wig from the mannequin and before she placed it on Erik she tilted his head back more for easier access. Grabbing the half-done wig, Y/N fluffed out the ends before arranging it over Erik’s locs. Even at their short length it was a challenge to fit the wig the way she needed it.

“Can you PLEASE keep still?” Y/N prompted.

“I’m not even moving. This wig just don’t fit.”

Y/N applied force and wiggled it over his locs causing Erik’s head to rock back and forth aggressively. He growled before reaching behind him to grab her hands. The wig looked much shorter on him in the back from how prominent his back and shoulders are. Erik turned to face her with his lips tight and face frowned, the wig making him look ridiculous and silly. Y/N folded her lips into her mouth but the urge to laugh caused her cheeks to puff out.

“If only you knew how tight my fucking head feels right now. I can’t even smile without this shit feeling like my scalp is being pulled. This better come off when we’re done or that’s your ass.”

“Erik, turn around. I only have one section to do and then you’re free. Next time, don’t ask me to help you with shit if you’re gonna act like this.”

Erik sucked his teeth and faced forward so Y/N could continue. He lowered his head so she could work on the back area.

“Can I ask you something, babe?” Y/N said.

“What?” Erik replied.

“Do you mind modeling this for me—”

“See, I knew this shit—”

Erik stood up before Y/N could wrap her arms around him. He walked over to the full body mirror in her room to look at himself and that’s when he couldn’t hold back his own laughter.

“Yo, what the fuck do you have on my head!” Erik played with the strands while turning his head from side to side, “I look like James Brown, AYE!!!!”

Y/N was in stitches when he mimicked James Brown in the mirror. She fell back against her bed hollering from the way he looked.

“Nah, I’m not drunk right now I need to be drunk to enjoy this,” Erik leaned into the mirror, “I look better than half the bitches that come in here to get their hair done. Let me find out.”

“You are so STUPID!!!!” Y/N yelled between giggles.

“I’ll be back,” Erik left the room with the wig swaying from side to side since it wasn’t fully secure.

“Where are you going?!” Y/N shouted from the bed.

Erik didn’t respond to her loud voice. When he returned two minutes later he had a cup in one hand and his bottle of Hennessy in the other. Erik sat both the cup and the bottle on Y/N’s cluttered dresser to make himself a drink.

“This was supposed to be a quick thing now you’re drinking.”

Y/N watched Erik from her relaxed spot on the bed. Erik took two sips of his drink before standing in front of her mirror again.

“What are you doing?!”

Y/N couldn’t even finish her words when Erik started shimmying his shoulders and snapping his fingers to a soundless beat. Hooting with laughter Y/N could feel wetness on her cheeks.

“IM DONE!!!”

“This shit give bad bitches super powers.” Erik said

“Let me find out you wanna wear a weave now.” Y/N jokes.

Erik brought his cup to his lips and drank more Hennessy while moving his hips. This was too good not to get a video. With Erik being his usual silly self, Y/N snatched up her phone from the floor before pulling up her Instagram to record him. On her story, Y/N focused the camera on her boyfriend when he started singing the lyrics to Lady Marmalade.

“Gitchi gitchi, ya ya, da da. Gitchi gitchi, ya ya, here!!”

“Oh my God!!” Y/N cried out with a chuckle before ending the video. She uploaded it to her story before quickly tossing her phone towards the end of the bed.

“Creole Lady Marmalade!!!!!!!!”

“You hardly had anything to drink and you’re acting like this? Lord.”

“Aight, I’m done for now,” Erik made his way back over to Y/N with his cup, “put on a movie or something.”

“Ohhhhhh!!! So you’re asking me to pick this time?! I get to make a decision, Erik?! Wowwwwwwwww!!!”

“Girl, shut up.”

Y/N chose a random movie for background noise while she finished. She was surprised at how content he was and it made her consider asking him to help more in the future. It was fun and it made her laugh. That’s one thing about Erik that she adores. He matches her sense of humor. Y/N heard a vibration and when she glanced over to look at her phone the screen is still black. Between her legs she could see Erik staring at a text message from his Lock Screen

“What the fuck is this nigga talking ‘bout.”

“Erik keep still—”

“Nigga who is Miss Man?!”

Y/N paused to peer over Erik’s shoulder.

“This nigga just called me Miss Man from Scary Movie.”

Erik tapped on the microphone on his keyboard to speak.

“Who the fuck randomly texts somebody that at 11 PM? Fucking weirdo ass nigga. Let me find out you want Miss Man for yourself.”

“Who is Miss Man— OH! The PE teacher that was sniffing the underwear?!!! hahahahahahahahahahaha!!!”

“This nigga...he said all you need is the underwear, skirt, nails, and makeup—wait.”

“And some long ass balls!!” Y/N snickered.

Erik whipped his head around and when Y/N met his fiery eyes she swallowed her laugh and it left an uncomfortable lump in her throat.

“Did you post me online wearing this wig, Y/N?”

“No.”

“I’m gonna ask you again. Did you post me online in this wig?

“Mm—mm. I did no such thing.”

“Then let me see your phone.”

Erik reached out for Y/N’s phone but she snatched it away. Erik moved his head to the side to flip some of the wig hair form his face but it fell forward again disobeying him.

“Did I? Uhhhh—OKAY OKAY!!”

It happened so fast. Erik has Y/N by the waist and up in the air.

“Yes, I did!! I’ll delete it.”

“You don’t listen to shit I tell you to do—”

“It was cute! You looked cute with it on—”

“You know what’s about to happen right?! I told you not to do that shit!”

“Erik, it’s all in fun. I’ll get rid of it—”

“That shit is embarrassing! What if I posted you online at your worse?”

“I don’t have a bad moment I always look good.” Y/N sasses.

“Says the girl that always complains about me taking off guard pics.”

“Erik, you’re not even at your worse. You act like I posted you looking bummy!”

Y/N kept her word and went to Instagram to delete. When she got there, she was met with at least ten DMs replying to her story.

Corythemua_: gurllll who is that? 👀 ooooh he is fione!!! Is he into guys?

Jermaine_87: Wtf is he doing?! 🤣🤣🤣🤣 let me text this nigga

Katriceee: how did you convince him to do this?! LOL

Amethyst1993: when he find out about this you are in trouble girl!!!

“did you delete the video yet?! Don’t let me find out it’s still there!”

“It’s gone! Happy?! What happened to being in a playing mood?!!”

“Now all my friends texting me and clowning me! You play too many games. Hurry up and help me take this shit off!”

Erik brushed some strands from his lips with his fingertips and Y/N squealed. Nothing he could say or do would make her listen. He looked absolutely hilarious with the wavy tresses of the wig moving in tandem with his brawny physique.

“Erik, I can’t take you seriously with that wig on.”

“Then take this off!!”

Erik attempts to pull it off but suddenly stops when he realizes he needs help.

“I want this shit off now, Y/N.”

“FINE! Come here.”

Y/N tapped the floor with her foot for Erik to take a seat. When he does, Y/N does the opposite of what he asks and begins to place his hair into two buns. She silently laughed behind him, praying that he wouldn’t hear her falling apart. When she was finished, Erik assumed she was done because he didn’t feel the hair tickling his skin. When he stood up to look in the mirror, Erik groaned loudly at his appearance before flexing his jaw at her threateningly to make her listen. It didn’t work at all for him. She couldn’t stop laughing.

“You look so crazy!!!!!” Y/N hugged her sides and rolled on the bed with laughter, “And that evil look is making it even funnier!!”

“I’m about to beat your ass if you don’t take this shit off!!! It wouldn’t be funny if this shit stuck now would it?!!! I gotta go to work and all that nah take this off—

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“Aight, are you finished?!” Erik said impatiently.

“Baby...you don’t understand...oh my God.”

“Y/N, for real, take this dumb ass wig off before I cut it off!”

“Okay okay!! Before I do...you gotta do one last thing for me...pretty please? With caramel sauce and a cherry on top? I’ll do whatever you want if you do this last thing for me.”

“.....”

“PLEASE BABY?!!”

“.....”

“Erik, look, it’ll be funny! I just want you to cat walk for me and then I’m done—”

“Ahhhhh HELL no—”

“Please—”

“For what?! So you can keep laughing?!”

“I’ll suck your dick, lick your balls—”

“Girl, that won’t work on me—”

“You sure about that?”

Y/N poked her tongue out and started doing tricks with it to show off her tongue ring. Erik’s eyes squinted at her but she could tell from his breathing that he wouldn’t be able to fight it much longer. He even said so himself that her head game makes him weak and no woman before her has ever made him weak.

“...from here to the bed and that’s it.”

Y/N smiled victoriously.

Erik placed his hands on his tapered waistline before lowering his head. Y/N could hear him silently laughing to himself before he lifted his head displaying an adorable dimpled smile. He started strutting towards Y/N with stiff hips and two left feet. All this from her flicking her tongue. Y/N stared at him with her mouth hanging open and eyes wide. He had a focused look on his face and the wig with its two buns flopped up and down messily like bunny ears. He struck a pose with his hip jutted out before he started to vogue. At that point, Y/N couldn’t take it any longer. She had to grab onto Erik so she could catch her breath. Soon, Erik’s deep laugh could be heard.

“You get on my nerves,” Erik sat beside Y/N, “now, can you take this off of me?!”

“Turn around,” Y/N took down the buns before carefully sliding the wig off from front to back, “You’re off the hook after that I’m gonna go back to using this mannequin head.”

“Yeah, finish up so I can spank that ass for posting me on social media.”

Y/N did a double take, “I’m still in trouble?!”

“Yeah, you’re not off the hook.”

The remaining time Y/N finished her clients wig, she thought up all possible ways he could punish her this time.

“Can I have a kiss?” Y/N asked with a sweet sounding voice.

“Yes,” Erik poked his thick, moist lips out and Y/N pressed her soft lips against them.

“Mmm...still in trouble, ma,” Erik whispered.

[kagstea]

kageyama t. - purple hearts

kageyama tobio x f!reader

description: kageyama always showed a slight interest in certain love letters of yours, but you never thought they would be so important.

warnings: angst (as always)

At least a couple times a week, you opened your locker to find a few letters. They were confessions, of course. While you appreciate them, you never bothered to read them since you wouldn’t accept any. They all went in your bag, before finding their way into a metal box under your bed. From there they would remain until you would eventually get curious, and open them in the near future.

“Ah, another love letter for Karasuno’s princess?” Hinata mocked one day after class.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” You asked him, turning the letter over in your hand and glancing at the sticker that sealed it quickly.

He leaned against the locker next to yours. “I’m waiting for Kageyama and- Well, speak of the devil.”

The boy walked towards you two. “What?”

You shook your head. “Nothing. What took you so long?”

Kageyama eyed the letter in your grasp. “I forgot something. Is that another purple heart?”

While you received all kinds of letters, the ones sealed with a purple heart were always consistent. The sender never failed to deliver at least once a month, and although you never opened any of them, it warmed your heart that the person continued to hold some love for you.

“Mhm.” You grinned, carefully placing it in your bag. “I was worried for a bit that they wouldn’t send it this month, but I should’ve known better.” 

The three of you settled into a soft pace while walking out the school. Granted, the two of them had volleyball practice, but that never stopped them from walking you to the school entrance after the school day was finished.

With crossed arms, Hinata looked at you. “I don’t get it, Y/N. How come you don’t open them?”

“I don’t want to look at someone’s confession when I’m not going to like them back-”

“Ohh! Is it because you like someone?” His cheeky grin grew wide.

The abruptness of his question caught you off guard. With panic, you glanced at Kageyama, who was quiet throughout the conversation. But he didn’t seem bothered or even interested. It gave a funny feeling to your stomach.

With a scoff, you brushed his question off. “S-shut up! Why would you even ask something like that?” The tone of your voice lowered, and you avoided Hinata’s gaze knowing that on your cheeks lay an aggressive blush. “Anyways, I have to go home. Have fun at practice, guys!”

“Bye!” The two waved, watching as you disappeared before turning to each other. “Race you to the gym.”

~

After another month, you were pleased to find a familiar letter in your locker. The sight of it had you smiling before you could stop yourself.

“What are you smiling at?” 

“Oh, my gosh! Tobio! Make some noise!” His sudden appearance startled you. You clenched the letter to your chest and tried to calm yourself down. Kageyama only raised an eyebrow at your reaction.

“I was standing here for two minutes already.”

“And you didn’t bother to let me know that?”

He shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Purple heart again?”

This time, you didn’t try to hide your small smile. “Yeah. Don’t you have practice-”

“It’s cancelled because of the weather. Want to walk home together?” Kageyama held up an umbrella, prompting you to look outside. The gentle but growing falling of the rain already had you shivering.

“Yes, please.” You answered with eagerness, earning a grin from him.

As soon as the two of you stepped outside, you didn’t hesitate to cling to Kageyama’s side. While part of it was to keep both of you under the safety of the umbrella, another part saw it as an opportunity to be close to the person you had feelings for.

“Your shoulder’s getting wet.” You frowned, tugging him closer.

“It’s fine.”

“If you get sick, you can’t play volleyball, Tobio.” That logic allowed him to relax against your touch. “Sometimes I wonder how you would get through life without me.” You joked.

But he nodded. “Then, let’s promise to never find out.”

His response made your heart flutter. There were times when you wondered if he could possibly reciprocate your feelings. But you always talked yourself out of it, knowing that dating was one of the last things on his mind at the moment. Kageyama was always setting up the foundation for his volleyball career. There was no way he would set aside time to like someone.

Still, it was nice to even imagine.

“Unfortunately, I think I’m stuck with you. Have fun getting rid of me.” As he looked down at you, you stuck your tongue out playfully, making him let out a quick chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s until you open one of those damn letters and leave me.”

He meant it as a joke, but the reality of his words struck your heart. Slowly, your smile faded from your face, and you held his arm tighter. An unsettling silence bloomed as you stared at your feet.

Suddenly, the question tore from your throat. “Do you… do you think I would ever open them?”

Kageyama took a second, before asking you, “What reason do you have to not open them?” When you didn’t answer, he cleared his throat. “I mean, it’s not like you already have someone you like… do you?”

You should have told him. At that moment, you should have poured your heart out to him. But the fear of your confession backfiring held you back. Despite your heart screaming not to, you shook your head. “I don’t.”

Kageyama opened his mouth to say something, but his better judgment stopped him. “I see.”

You had to know now. “Well, how about you. Do you have someone that you… you know… like?”

It hurt you when he spoke.

“Yeah, I do.”

Those words made your heart twitch. Of course he already had someone he liked. It was only natural. Hearing that, you subconsciously loosened your hold on him. The walk home now seemed longer and it was killing you.

Once you two made it to your home, you suddenly were filled with nothing but regret. As you watched Kageyama go, a new realization hit. While you didn’t technically lose him, it sure felt like you did. 

~

It was almost a blessing you didn’t attend his wedding, though you knew you would regret it. That still didn’t stop you from finding an opportunity to miss it via a work excuse. That was what Hinata said he would tell him at the reception.

Work was a good distraction. After all, it had been a good six years since you had last seen Kageyama at graduation. Your friendship was never the same after that rainy day, so you were surprised to receive a wedding invitation.

Although, you had yet to get a physical copy of the invitation. You had first heard word about the wedding through Hinata, who claimed Kageyama had personally thought about asking you to come. Though apparently an invitation was mailed, you never received it.

“Are you sure you can’t make it even to the reception?” Hinata asked you over the phone on your way home. “I’ll come get you right now, if you want.”

You smiled at his consideration. “No, that’s fine. It was a long day at work, I’m not sure I have the energy to even make it home. Just take lots of pictures to show me, alright?”

There was a pause on his end. “Okay, Y/N. Get home safe.”

“I will.” You told him before ending the call. A part of you suspected Hinata had once known about your feelings for his friend, but at this age you were grateful he never did anything.

It only took a half hour to get back to your apartment. Your feet were killing you and all you wanted was to just curl up in bed and fall asleep. Inside, you told yourself it was karma for finding an excuse to miss the wedding when you easily could have just gone. But, you’d rather be physically drained than mentally, so you convinced yourself it was a good choice.

Upon making your way to your door, a white envelope caught your eye. It was set right in front of your door. It wasn’t there before you left in the morning, so someone must have dropped it off while you were at work. Your legs burned as you reached down to grab it, carefully studying the handwriting on it. Of course, it was addressed to you, but when you turned it around, you almost dropped it.

Right in the middle of the envelope was a small, purple heart sticker, sealing it. It had been years since you had seen it, and your hands shook gently. Wasting no time, you carefully opened the letter, curious to find out who the sender was after all this time.

As soon as you pulled the contents from the envelope, a breath got caught in the back of your throat. You almost forgot how to breathe as you overlooked the invitation to Kageyama’s wedding. Overwhelmed, tears began to build up in your eyes. You reached into your bag, digging for your keys to unlock your door. Once you were in, you ran straight to your room and kneeled on the ground.

You almost thanked your younger self for bringing that metal box with you when you moved. For years, it had remained under your bed without you having a single thought of going through it. But now you were, specifically for the letters sealed by that damn sticker.

You grabbed the first one you saw, ripping it open with a sense of urgency. As you read the letter, your throat started to burn.

Dear, Y/N,

Today I accidentally bought two banana milks, so I gave one to you. You instantly drank it, and then took a nap on your desk right after. I know you probably won’t read this for a while, so I thought I would tell you how pretty you looked. Even with your hair sticking to your face because of your drooling, you still looked pretty.

That’s all.

Bye.

It was funny how you knew exactly what he was talking about. For you, you could remember that day as if it were yesterday. You wondered if it was the same for him.

Dear Y/N,

I know I like you, but I didn’t know it was possible to like you more. You proved that to me, when you showed up to our game today. I almost went the entire play without knowing you were there, but something made me look up into the stands, which I’m glad.

You’re always pretty, but seeing you in that moment cheering us on made me realize you are the prettiest in the world. I really mean that, so don’t think of yourself as less.

This seems forward, but I hope that even in the future, you’ll still come to my games so I can see your prettiness. But honestly, even if you don’t come, just stick by my side. That’s enough for me.

His words brought a painful smile to your face. It felt like you were talking to a younger Kageyama. Even today, you questioned if he remembered what he wrote to you.

All the letters were random, but managed to tug at your heart. You could recall every single moment that he wrote about, and it killed you how you never opened them sooner. It all made sense now. He would always mention the letters when you got them, and he lingered around your locker many times, no doubt waiting for you to turn your back so he could slip it in. You started to beat yourself up for not noticing that those were his letters, and you put them with the other confessions in the tiny metal box.

Finally, you reached the last letter he sent you. It was the last, because in the bottom corner he wrote goodbye in small writing. It took a moment to build up the courage to read it.

Dear Y/N,

This will probably be the last letter. I made sure you would know it’s the last, if you ever read it. 

It’s been a few months since that day. Even though I know you don’t have feelings for me, I still did for you. I still do.

But it’s not doing either of us any good if I keep going. So I’ll stop for our sake.

That doesn’t mean I don’t love you, because I do. And I wish I could tell it to you in person, but I’m a coward, so I won’t. And you’ll never know if you don’t read this, so I’m really pushing my luck.

Thanks for being my first love. I wish you weren’t, because first loves never work out. But still, you were my friend too. And you were always by my side, even when I probably didn’t deserve you.

Anyways, I hope you read this letter before graduation. Perhaps that’s the boost we need to save our friendship, at least. Even if you don’t, and I’m talking to future Y/N, please come see me. I’m sure future me is waiting for you because I’m afraid I could never stop loving you.

That’s all, Y/N. Oh, and I also put some of the purple heart stickers in the envelope in case you ever miss them. Just don’t waste them, okay?

The letter was almost drenched in your tears. Sure enough, there were stickers in the envelope. The same ones he used every month that had you smiling even for a second when you saw them. 

But seeing them now just brought you pain.

Especially when they were on his wedding invitation. An invitation that did not have your name along with his, and never will.

[kpopfanfictrash]

Raise the Barre (Halloween: Jimin’s POV)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: Underage drinking, sexual tension, Y/N’s skirt is short

Word Count: 4,107

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.  

You were a terrible flip cup player.

This was all Jimin could think while he watched you from across the room, one shoulder leaned against the white, stucco wall. You sat casually on the couch, laughing at something Brian had said – a dead giveaway of inebriation, if Jimin had ever seen one. Humor wasn’t among Brian’s commonly listed attributes.

An unfamiliar tightness spread through his chest while Jimin watched until finally, he forced himself to look away.

There was nothing he needed to worry about with Brian, of course. Brian was hooking up with someone from Redfield and besides, if Jimin needed to worry about anyone, it’d be your boyfriend.

Finn, as you’d said on the drive home from the club.

Just remembering that night made Jimin’s head hurt. It’d been two weeks at this point, but he still could remember it as though it were yesterday. He remembered the tightness in your voice when he’d answered the phone, the panic Jimin had felt driving through the streets of the city, and the immediate relief he’d gotten upon arriving and seeing you in one piece.

And then you’d said the word to him – boyfriend.

Jimin remembered being stunned for a few, eternity-stretching seconds.

He still wasn’t sure how he’d missed such a vital piece of information. For a month prior, his crush on you had been steadily building, which meant Jimin had been oddly attentive to what you were doing. He’d never once seen you duck out of class for a phone call. No one had ever picked you up from the studio, nor had he seen you out on dates around campus.

A few guys had even expressed interest in dating you at the start of the year, but you hadn’t seemed interested, so talk of your relationship status had gradually petered out.

Exhaling gently, Jimin pushed himself from the wall and entered the kitchen. Filling his drink up again, he glanced up when Sabrina walked into the room. Tightly, Jimin smiled.

He and Sabrina had hooked up at the beginning of the semester, which had led to one of the most awkward run-ins of Jimin’s existence. Sabrina had been leaving his room when you decided to arrive, and Jimin had spent the entire encounter wearing his boxers. Which was great. At the time, he’d merely shrugged it off as uncomfortable, but now the memory continued to grate on his conscience.

Sabrina had texted him a few weeks ago, inviting him over but Jimin had declined. He’d told her they were better off as friends, at which point she’d simply decided to ghost him. Jimin hadn’t really cared at the time – it was around then he’d started having feelings for you.

Feelings which turned out to be pointless since you already had a boyfriend.

Gaze lowering, Jimin saw what Sabrina was wearing and couldn’t help it – he laughed. “A ballerina?” he asked, unable to stop himself. “Really?”

Sabrina scowled and poured herself a drink. “A short-notice invitation means you get a short-notice costume. Okay?”

Jimin’s brow furrowed. “Short notice?”

“Yeah.” She paused. “I, uh… wasn’t going to come until yesterday.”

Jimin wisely chose not to comment, shrugging in response as they left the kitchen. In the corner of his eye, he thought he saw you looking at him, but when he glanced up, Jimin saw you stand from the couch. Noelle was calling you over, waving you into another game of flip cup.

Sighing, Jimin set down his newly filled cup. It wasn’t as though you needed a white knight, or anything but someone at this party had to stay sober. It wouldn’t be you if you kept pounding drinks the way you were and so, Jimin relinquished his own.

Frowning in concentration, you set your cup down on the table and attempted to flip. When you succeeded, you cheered and spun around in a circle, causing the end of your skirt to flare up.

Jimin swallowed, hard.

Of all the nights, you’d chosen to dress that way tonight. Truthfully, you wore less clothes to your ballet classes – only a leotard and tights – but Jimin was a professional, and there was nothing sexy about Mr. Vlad shouting corrections at him while sweat dripped into places Jimin thought best not to mention.

Now though, you were wearing the shortest dress Jimin had ever seen and it was making him slowly lose his mind. The flimsy material barely covered the tops of your thighs, which made Jimin want to lift you onto the counter, press his hands into the available skin, push your dress higher and –

Exhaling roughly, Jimin shoved a hand through his hair. He needed to get ahold of himself. It’d been too long since he’d last spoken and now, Sabrina was watching him curiously. Before Jimin could look away, her gaze followed to you.

“Interesting.” Sabrina arched a brow. “Doesn’t she have a boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” Jimin muttered.

For a moment, he considered drinking the cup he’d just set down.

Sabrina gave a small laugh but, oddly enough, there was no bite to it. “So, that’s why you said you didn’t want to hook up.”

Jimin gave a small shrug, his right shoulder rising and falling. “That, and other reasons.”

Sabrina nodded. She took a long sip of her drink before she walked off, coming to a stop beside Jasmine across the room.

Jimin was left alone with his thoughts, until Hoseok waved him over to play the next game. Jimin joined, playing with water and by the time Ubers were called for the club, he felt decidedly more sober than an hour prior.

This was in stark contrast to you, who’d apparently decided to leave your coat in Paulo’s apartment. Jimin noticed this as soon as he stepped outside, spotting you shivering as he approached the curb.

“Y/N?” he asked, coming to a stop. “Hey, where’s your coat?”

“Inside,” you said, teeth chattering. “I’m fine, though. I’m fine!”

Eying you suspiciously, Jimin scanned the sidewalk. “Where’s Paulo?” he said. “I’ll grab him, we can get your coat before we go –”

You huffed, an impatient sound as you grabbed his sleeve and dragged him towards the car. “The Uber’s already here, though,” you argued. “I’ll be fine from here to the club!”

If it hadn’t been further to Paulo’s apartment than to the car, Jimin would have protested, but as it was, he simply sighed and followed suit. You pulled open the door to the SUV, clambering inside to sit in the last row. Glancing over his shoulder, Jimin realized Hoseok and Noelle were waiting, which meant he’d need to join you in the back.

Squeezing into the small space beside you, Jimin tried his best to stay separate, but to no avail. The backseat was tiny, and his left knee pressed to yours, fingers fumbling at your side when he buckled his seatbelt.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, squishing further away.

“Jimin.” You arched a brow. “Are we going to go through this again? Your hands have been in way more inappropriate places than that this semester.”

That said, you grabbed hold of the middle seat and hoisted yourself upwards.

Jimin’s mind seemed to short-circuit.

Forget about your teasing tone – now your delectable, barely-clothed ass hovered before his face. As Jimin had previously noted, your dress was very short. The skirt barely covered your panties and from where he was sitting, Jimin could tell they were light blue in color, edged with lace.

Fingers digging into his palms, Jimin forced himself to look away. It’d be a long time before he forgot that particular visual. The car pulled from the curb, making his stomach lurch while he fought to stay in control.

You had a boyfriend, Jimin reminded himself as he stared out the window. You were off-limits, so he needed to stop thinking about you in that way. This could only end badly if it continued, but he still couldn’t keep his disloyal heart from racing.

Plopping down in your seat, you turned sideways to face him. “Um,” you said, seemingly oblivious to Jimin’s inner anguish. “So, what happened to your teeth?”

Jimin forced himself to look sideways. “Casualty of flip cup,” he said with as much nonchalance as he could muster. “One of them fell out during the game and I couldn’t find where it rolled.”

You frowned, seriously considering his predicament and Jimin’s heart did a flip. The most adorable dimple had appeared in your brow and he fervently wished he could smooth it away.

“Well, that’s okay,” you said slowly. “You can just be one of those vampires who blend in with normal humans. You know, the kind whose fangs only come out when they want to bite someone.”

Do you like that? The thought entered Jimin’s mind before he could stop it, but he luckily managed not to say it out loud.

With a wan smile, he arched his brow. “That’s true. Lucky for you, I’m not hungry.”

Well. He kind of managed not to say it out loud.

“Lucky for me? Lucky for you. My blood is about half-alcohol right now. If you drank my blood, you’d be a very silly vampire.”

The idea of this made you laugh, tipping your head back and flashing a white row of teeth. Jimin couldn’t help but smile, a confusing mix of endearment and alarm swirling through him. He wondered how much you’d had to drink before you left Paulo’s.

He hadn’t been watching you the entire night, after all.

Only most of it.

“A silly vampire, huh?” he mused. “Damn, Y/N – when was the last time you went out? Your tolerance is shit.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I haven’t drunk much this semester. Too much dance, too little time. I think the last time I went out was –”

Jimin winced when Noelle pulled open the door, a blast of cold air hitting him in the face.

“We’re here!” she squealed, launching herself outside.

Jimin blinked, attempting to pull himself together. You’d stopped talking mid-sentence, sitting up straighter and Jimin felt a vague twinge of annoyance at the car ride ending so soon. Then, he noticed you shivering.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked gently. “I can give you, uh…”

“Your shirt?” you said wryly, clambering over the seat. “Then you’d be shirtless, Park. Let’s think this through.”

Stifling his laugh, Jimin ducked his head as he followed. You were right, after all. He didn’t have anything to give you, even if he wished he did.

“Come on!” you yelled, starting to run towards the club.

Jimin purposefully hung back, waiting for Hoseok before he made his entrance. He needed a few moments alone, needed some distance between you. It was embarrassing how quickly you managed to tear down his walls.

Jimin had always been drawn to you, but this was something else entirely. Over the past several weeks, you’d let your guard down and Jimin had realized exactly what he’d missed out on. He’d seen how funny you were, how determined, how smart and how fierce you could be. And now that he’d seen it all, Jimin found himself wanting more.

He couldn’t have more though since you were already taken. You already had a boyfriend, which meant Jimin needed to back off.

Bitterness tinged his thoughts as he entered the club, although his eyes quickly widened when he saw the décor. This place was nice. Noelle had seriously undersold her brother’s connections. He and Hoseok weren’t even asked to show their fake IDs at the door; they were simply waved in.

When he and Hoseok reached their reserved table, Jimin entered the tail end of a conversation. Jasmine wanted to dance, which Irene and Paulo readily agreed to.

“What about you, Y/N?” asked Irene, turning your way. “You in?”

It seemed as though you were about to say yes when Jimin saw you glance at the floor. Something in your expression wavered and after a moment, you slowly exhaled.

“That’s okay,” you said, turning back. “I think I’m going to stay here for a while. I’ll join you later!”

Irene frowned, but finally nodded and left with the rest. Hoseok followed suit, punching Jimin in the arm and yelling something about shots. Jimin told him he’d be down in a second, even though he knew this was a lie.

You sat down alone in the booth, staring at the dance floor and looking vaguely miserable. Something unfamiliar unfurled in Jimin’s chest – protectiveness, or something like it. Before he could talk himself out of it, Jimin lowered himself beside you.

“You didn’t want to dance?” he asked.

Surprised, you glanced sideways and realized Jimin had stayed.

Looking away, Jimin began to undo his cuffs. His heartbeat hammered his ribcage, and he was deathly afraid you’d hear and know his intentions were far from honorable. There was nothing remotely close to friendship on Jimin’s mind tonight. He was kidding himself if he said there was.

“No,” you said with a sigh, crossing your legs. Jimin’s jaw tensed, remembering the flash of blue panties from earlier. “I just don’t really feel like it.”

“Is this the whole hating clubs thing again?”

“Kind of.” You shrugged. “I don’t know. Club dancing isn’t like normal dancing, you know?”

Bewildered, Jimin finally looked up and met your gaze. He didn’t understand why you felt this way but could only assume your boyfriend had something to do with it. Club dancing was fun when you were with the right people.

“It is when you’re at a club full of dancers,” he said, pointing towards the floor.

Following his hand, you saw Jasmine dancing onstage like a crazed, Disney vision. A smile crossed your lips and you nodded before you turned back.

“Okay,” you admitted. “That does look like fun. The last time I was at a club was with Finn.”

Jimin blinked, attempting to piece together what one statement had to do with the other. “Sorry,” he said. “What?”

Before he could move though, you leaned forward and now Jimin could smell your perfume, your shampoo, and the faintest hint of musk beneath that.

“In the cab,” you said, completely unaware of what you were doing to him. “You asked me when I last went out. It was that night… um…” Trailing off, your gaze flicked to his. “The night you came and picked me up.”

Jimin seemed to stop breathing.

What he needed to do was leave, he decided. Get up and leave, maybe go down to the dance floor. He could dance with someone else, go home with someone else – bury himself inside someone else and try and forget about you.

The moment this thought crossed his mind, the utter wrongness of it tore through his chest. He wanted you. Not someone else.

Abruptly, Jimin made his decision and stood, holding out a hand.

You stared at this in confusion. “What are you doing?”

Feeling slightly foolish, Jimin retracted the gesture. “Taking you down to the dance floor,” he insisted. “Come on, Y/N! You don’t have to give out dry lap dances, or whatever.”

The expression of betrayal you adopted was enough to make Jimin smile.

“Hey!” you blurted. “You said you’d forget all about that.”

“Seriously.” He grinned. “We can just do the sprinkler, or something. It’ll be fun!”

He waited for you to respond, unsure why he was trying so hard.

He shouldn’t be working this hard to see you smile, but all Jimin could think was how sad you’d looked a few minutes ago. It was worth it to make you happy, even if you didn’t leave with Jimin tonight. Even if someone else got to benefit from your presence.

Finally, you nodded. “The sprinkler?” you said as you stood. “Was that really the first move you thought of?”

“Nah,” Jimin said, turning around. “My go-to move is the criss-cross, but I figured this was more your speed.”

You laughed, but Jimin barely heard it as you walked down the stairs. His head was already spinning, unsure what he was doing, but the moment the Russet group came into view, Noelle saw you and cheered.

“Y/N!” she called as you entered the crowd.

Jimin let you leave, knowing it was for the best. Hoseok challenged him to a dance-off, and Jimin began to lose track of time after that. It wasn’t long before people started splitting off in search of drinks or entertainment.

At some point, Jimin glanced up and realized it was only you left. You were the one egging him on, not Hoseok but somehow, Jimin found it wasn’t weird. His dance moves became sillier and more ridiculous, which was unusual. He wasn’t normally like this, but something about you lowered his inhibitions.

As he spun around in a circle, Jimin felt his hand connect with something hard and a drink went flying.

In horror, Jimin turned and saw he’d soaked the six foot tall behemoth behind him. Wiping blue drink from his eyes, the guy looked angrily down and locked gazes with Jimin.

“Shit,” you breathed, grabbing hold of his arm. “Run!”

Jimin protested, but you had a tight grip and eventually, he gave in and followed.

“No, wait – let me apologize!” Jimin said, trying to turn back. “I can pay for his drink! I can –”

You were cracking up, out of breath when you finally spun around.

Jimin came to a halt. You’d traveled deeper into the crowd, bodies pressing against him from every side. Jimin realized he couldn’t move, but neither did he want to. You were standing so close to him. So close, he could count each individual eyelash and feel the trembling heat from your body.

The dull thump of bass filled the air and, rather than move, you slowly blinked. A second ago you’d been laughing, but no more. Gaze oddly intense, you studied his features and Jimin desperately wished to know what you were thinking.

Before he could ask, someone bumped into you from behind and sent you flying. Jimin caught you without thinking, pulling you closer and when you glanced up at him in surprise, his mind became a perfect blank. For a moment he couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but hold you against him.

Somehow, his thigh had become wedged between yours and the soft warmth of your body embedded itself in his mind. Jimin nearly combusted at your touch – nearly bent and crushed your lips to his – but before he could do anything at all, you shifted.

The movement was subtle, barely even there, but it shredded what remained of Jimin’s self-control. Grip tightening on your arms, he allowed blatant desire to bleed into his gaze.

It could have been his imagination, but he swore he heard a soft gasp from your lips. Gaze hardening, your fingers curled in his shirt as you moved your hips again; this time on purpose.

Jimin broke, grip tightening further to drag you up his thigh. He saw your eyelashes flutter, a lone vein pulsing in your jaw as you tipped your head back. The song in the background was darker, more seductive when Jimin lowered his head. Hands sliding up the panes of your back, he pulled you closer and brushed his lips to your ear.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice embarrassingly soft.

Suddenly, you froze.

In a panic, your eyes flew open.

When they met his, some of the haze seemed to clear from Jimin’s brain. He realized with horror exactly what he was doing. Holding you like this, touching you like this in the middle of a dance floor surrounded by all your friends from Russet. Anyone could have seen, and you – well, you had a boyfriend. You weren’t Jimin’s to dance with.

Something cracked in your gaze as you realized this, dropping your arms.

“I have to go,” you blurted before you whirled around.

Jimin stared after, his feet frozen solid, stuck to the floor. He was dimly aware he should follow but had no idea what to say. He’d messed up. It had been a giant mistake to think he could be close to you tonight and not give into temptation.

But then, again – he hadn’t been the only one who’d given in.

Jerking himself from his trance, Jimin forced his feet to move as he entered the crowd. It hadn’t been his imagination the way you’d looked at him tonight. The way you’d danced with him, the noises you’d made. He needed to find you. He needed to ask you what it all meant, but by the time he reached the edge of the dance floor, you were already gone.

Desperately, Jimin searched but you were nowhere to be found. Gut sinking, he began to retrace his steps and nearly ran into the blue drink guy from earlier. Hastily, he retreated and made his way across the room.

Jimin was beginning to understand your aversion to clubs. Everyone in here was loud, drunk and he couldn’t stop thinking about what might happen to you while you were separated. Jimin desperately hoped you’d learned your lesson from last time and hadn’t exited the building.

“Noelle!” he called as he broke through the crowd.

Glancing down from the stage, Noelle seemed surprised when she saw Jimin approach. He supposed he looked like a mess and, reaching hastily upwards, attempted to smooth down his hair.

“What?” she yelled back, leaning over the edge of the platform.

Jimin craned his neck upwards. “Have you seen Y/N?”

“What? Y/N?”

“Have you seen her?” he called.

“No?” Noelle’s gaze narrowed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Jimin’s stomach churned. If you hadn’t come here, he needed to keep looking. “I – nothing.” Shaking his head, he took a step backwards. “I just… yeah. Nothing.”

Turning around, he plunged into the crowd and wondered what the hell he was doing. If Jimin wanted to be more obvious, he could just hang a sign around his neck saying he had a gigantic crush on you.

Coming to a stop at the edge of the dance floor, Jimin dug around in his pocket to pull out his phone. He was about to dial your number when he saw a flash of movement in the corner of his eyes. Glancing over, he saw you as you exited a dark hall labeled restrooms. Lowering his phone, Jimin began to walk towards you, only to pause when you pulled out your phone.

You were dialing.

Coming to a stop beside coat check, you began calling someone and although Jimin stood still and waited, his phone refused to ring. Glancing down, Jimin confirmed this and a frown tugged at his lips.

Suddenly, his stomach plummeted.

You were calling Finn. Of course, you were – you’d called your boyfriend to come pick you up, which was the perfect, cyclical ending to this perfect, cyclical night. Closing his eyes, Jimin tried to slow his breathing before he opened them again.

He saw you speaking to someone and the knot in his chest gradually loosened. At least your boyfriend had managed to pick up his phone this time. At least you were safe and wouldn’t be alone. Slipping his phone back in his pocket, Jimin turned around and made straight for the bar.

Dark, viscous emotions warred in his chest and before he could stop himself, Jimin found himself ordering a whiskey. Tapping his fingers against the bar, he waited for his drink and stared at the dance floor.

After a while, he couldn’t help it – he looked. He couldn’t stop himself from checking what you were doing. When it came to you, all sense of self-preservation seemed to fly out the window.

It was surprising then, when Jimin saw Noelle burst from the crowd. She hurried to where you were standing and Jimin realized with shock you’d called her, not Finn.

Before he could react to this, a glass of whiskey was pressed into his waiting hand. Feeling somewhat dazed, Jimin lifted this to his lips.

Merciless hope bloomed within and Jimin tried his best to squash it. Hope only seemed to bring more disappointment when it came to you. The truth of the matter was you weren’t his to want.

With a low sigh, Jimin lowered his drink and turned from the bar.

Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow he’d call and ask you to forget everything about tonight. As much as it pained him – as much as he wanted to invite you over right now, to imprint your body against his on the sheets – Jimin also didn’t want to have you like this.

He wanted you to be entirely his, and that couldn’t happen tonight.

Tomorrow, though.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! 😊 

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST 

© kpopfanfictrash, 2021. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[garbagevanfleet]

Brightest Blue (series)

PART TEN

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: THIS CHAPTER IS 18+ ONLY! sexual content (finally), pot use, alcohol use Summary:  Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place.

Notes: Okay, guys. If you missed it, this chapter is NSFW. This was the best to write, seriously. Love you all, don't be afraid to tell me what you think of it! 

taglist: @valleyd0ll​​ @satingrass-maidensfair​​ @guitarfingers​​ @thebohemianpenguin​​ @peaceisouranthem​​ @oblvions​​ @hansonobsessed​​ @myownparadise96​​ @lara-gvf​​ @anditsmywholeheart​​ @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies​​ @bigblack-catattack​​​ 

MASTERPOST 

Two weeks before the Saturday of the play, the forecast had called for a blizzard. “Polar vortex” they had called it on the tv at school, flashing graphics of a polar bear wearing a scarf. 

After classes on Friday, you had asked Kate if she wanted to go for coffee. You had been working like a dog on the play - sewing and painting to the point where your fingers perpetually hurt and the only thing you could see when you closed your eyes was the shade of green that every foliage prop was painted.

You ordered a caramel macchiato and genuinely tried to enjoy it, propping your legs up on the chair next to her. 

“So,” she started, eyeing you like she had a bone to pick. She still looked so pretty when she was coming for your life. “We’ve been so busy with Josh, we haven’t had any alone time to talk about Trevor.”

You sucked in a deep breath and relaxed your stiff neck muscles, achy from behind hunched over while sewing. “Yeah. I kind of forgot about it, to be honest.”

“I have not, however. So dish,” she requested, reaching into her purse and pulling out a tube of lipstick. She applied it carefully in her phone camera as you spoke. 

“Josh did it,” you admitted, making her eyes flick over to you momentarily. “I mean, I still slapped him, but Josh was the one that gave him a black eye.”

“And how do you feel about that?” she asked carefully.

You shrugged, wrapping your fingers tightly around your cup, half to leech the heat, and half because you were anxious. “I don’t know. I was kind of upset, but only because he could have gotten kicked out of school for that.”

She just nodded for you to continue as she cleaned up the lines around her lips with a paper napkin. 

“I mean, and for what? He could have been arrested. Just for revenge. I feel like the best revenge would be just be keeping your head high.” You rolled your eyes at the beginning of your statement, just for emphasis. 

She stared at you blankly as she picked up her mug. “Aren’t you flattered? I wish a guy would punch one of my hookups.” 

“I mean, it’s cute, but I feel like he did it more for himself - for his own pride, you know?”

Her expression changed then to something a little heavier, her features sharpening in accusation. “Are you for real? Like, for real, for real?”

You frowned at her, feeling like you were being scolded. “What are you talking about?”

She let out a long breath, looking dumbstruck. “I haven’t really pressed it because I guess I just thought it was something that everyone knew but wasn’t talking about but-” She paused, putting her hand over yours on the table just to really drive the point home. 

“That boy has it bad for you.”

You knew your expression was ridiculous by the way she looked at you with pity. “What the hell are you talking about? Josh? Are we talking about Josh?”

She closed her eyes, pursed her lips, and nodded. 

“Kiszka?” you tried again, still refusing to let her statement sink in. 

“Yes,” she said through a laugh. “Yes, your roommate Josh. Curly hair, hippy bullshit - that guy. I swear to God I thought you knew. I mean, there were times when I was like ‘does she actually know?’ but then I thought ‘there’s no way she lives with him and doesn’t know that’. You’re telling me I was wrong?”

You were struck silent for a few long moments. “Are you sure?”

Thankfully, she was looking at you like you were a puppy with its head stuck in a peanut butter jar. “Look at me. He punched a guy in the face for you.”

You closed your eyes and tried to suppress a smile. “I don’t know.”

“Okay. There’s supposed to be a huge snowstorm this weekend. Now that you’ve heard me say it, return to me on Monday - after spending all weekend in the same place as him - and tell me you don’t see it then,” she said simply. 

“Okay, I will,” you challenged. 

“Okay, you do that,” she quipped with a smirk, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest confidently. 

+++

In preparation, you had gone grocery shopping together, picking out everything you’d need to be stuck in the apartment together. He had even made you take him to a thrift store, just so he could see if there was anything fun. In the end, he had come out with a card game in a box, still wrapped. 

Saturday morning the snow started falling, this time in huge, fluffy flakes, and it wasn’t supposed to stop until Monday evening. 

While Josh was in the shower, you decided to get everything ready for the evening’s festivities that you had planned together. You had gone to find a good cheese board at the market until you found out they were too pricey for your (nearly nonexistent) budget, so you ended up laying out different crackers and cheeses onto a circular pizza pan. 

By the time he got out of the shower, you had grapes, pickles, olives, and chocolates laid out on the coffee table, and he caught you just as you were pouring each of you a glass of wine. 

The charcuterie was his idea - actually, the first thing he suggested when you said you wanted to have a fun night in on Saturday. The three different kinds of alcohol had been your idea.

“Okay, it’s all yours,” he informed as he trotted out from his bedroom, dressed in a fresh set of clothes. 

The shower was still warmed up, the mirror still steamy. You got a towel out and stepped in under the spray. 

You took the time to enjoy washing and conditioning your hair - your mom had been sweet enough to send you some of the expensive kind you love. Once you had hinted over the phone that you were homesick and the smell of it reminded you of home, she was already googling it. 

Once you felt sufficiently clean, you stepped out and dried off. The clothes you had taken into the bathroom weren’t anything special - you had chosen comfort over aesthetic - but they were warm, which is what you really needed as the snow fell outside. 

When you joined him back in the living room, Josh was waiting patiently on the couch.

“Ready?” he asked, handing you your glass of wine. 

“You didn’t have to wait for me.” You gestured down at the untouched food. 

He smiled at you. “I know.” 

You sipped at your drink as he gestured to the tv. 

“Movie for background noise?”

You hummed in thought. “Maybe music?” 

He nodded in agreement. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Whatever you pick will be perfect.”

By the time he had made a selection, you had nearly finished your glass of wine. “So, the costumes are coming along well. I got the cutest lace for the trimmings of Alice’s dress. I’m not sure you’ll even be able to see it from the audience, but she’ll look adorable in pre and post-performance pictures.”

He shot you a beaming smile. “That’s some master craft. Your attention to detail is unrivaled.”

You knew that he was just playing, but it still made your stomach flip.

“Should we play our card game?” he suggested, padding over to the kitchen and snatching the bottle of wine off the counter.

You watched his movements as he poured your glass full again. “Thank you. Yeah, we can. Or did you want to be drunker first?”

He hummed. “One shot each?” 

“Of vodka?” you inquired as you picked yourself off of the couch. “Where are the shot glasses?” 

“I don’t think I own any,” he admitted as he watched you rifle through the cupboards. 

You shot him a shocked look. “You’re a college kid; why would you not own a shot glass?”

“Well, we haven’t needed it thus far. I don’t throw a lot of parties if you haven’t noticed.” He gestured around the empty room. “We’ll each just take a pull from the bottle?”

“Okay, you first,” you agreed, thrusting the bottle at his chest. He took it from your grasp with a smirk and then pressed his lips to the rim. He drank until the count of three before swallowing hard and passing it along. 

You followed suit, except with more difficulty. He had made it look so easy, you had almost forgotten how vodka tasted. You swiped your thumb across your lips, wiping them dry in the process. 

You took your seats back on the couch next to each other as the music played through the room. 

“Charcuterie?” you offered, gesturing to the coffee table full of food. 

“Yes, of course.”

As you watched him make a cracker sandwich, you spoke. “So, should we crack this game open?”

After he nodded excitedly, you ripped into the plastic wrap. 

“Okay, it looks like it’s essentially just a questions game. We just draw one at a time and the other person answers them,” you explained after skimming the inside of the box. “And you have to finish your drink if you can’t answer it.”

He laughed. “Okay, ladies first. I’m ready.”

You pushed the stack of cards over at him. “No way, you ask me first,” you stated with a cheeky smile.

He raised his eyebrows at you but relented. As he plucked a card from the deck, he took a sip of wine.

“What is your favorite color?” he asked, leaning in and squinting like the information you were about to provide was essential to his existence. 

You snorted. “Really?” He nodded, prompting you to continue. You hummed as you thought about it. “It’s blue.”

“What kind of blue? Like navy or sky?”

You shook your head. “No, more like that blue that’s so blue it hurts your eyes. The one that was a new pigment discovered not that long ago - so bright it hurts.”

He gave you a sincere smile.  “That’s a good pick.”

“What’s yours?” 

“That’s not how this game works,” he said through a breathy laugh. 

You frowned at him. “Yeah, well. Then I’m asking you as a friend. Josh, what is your favorite color?”

He pursed his lips as he considered his answer. “It’s hard for me to pick, but maybe either red or orange.”

You nodded in agreement as you reached for the deck. “I could see that. Okay, your turn.”

You stared at the card in your hand that read, WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU SLEPT WITH?

“Are you alright?”

You snapped your eyes up to him, quickly nodding as you realized that he had been waiting patiently for you to read it. 

“Okay,” he agreed cautiously. “That’s good. What’s the question?”

You couldn’t suppress an awkward smile as a heat rose to your face. 

“It says, ‘who is the last person you slept with?’,” you informed in a humored tone. You even held it up for him to see.

He stared at the card like it just accused him of a heinous act. “You really got to answer the color question and I have to answer this?”

His intensity made you snort a laugh, though you were trying to hold yourself together so you didn’t spill your wine. “Okay, okay. I’ll answer it too. Maybe we can play the game where we both just answer it.”

“Do you just want to hear me talk about sex?” he prompted with a shit-eating grin. 

You gave him a disbelieving look. “Are you- You’re the one that picked this game out!”

Your overreaction was clearly exactly what he had been looking for. You were anticipating his ribbing to continue, but it didn’t. 

“The last person I had sex with,” he started, pressing his lips against the rim of his glass as he took a swig. “Was from my music theory class.”

“When?” you quickly asked, shocking even yourself.

 “Is that part of the question?” he teased smugly, picking a kalamata olive off of the tray and piercing it with his finger before popping it in his mouth. 

You licked your lips nervously. “No, it isn’t,” you admitted. “You don’t have to answer that, I was just curious.”

“You wanna get high?” 

He was staring directly into your eyes when you looked up at him again. 

“I feel like it’ll make it easier to answer these.”

You nodded at him, biting your bottom lip. “Yes. Yes, I do want to.” 

“My room?” he asked, picking up both of your glasses as he stood. 

“Your room,” you confirmed, following suit. 

Through the slats in his blinds, you could see that the ground was completely covered in a white blanket of snow. You spent some time watching it fall from his bed as he packed a bowl. 

“Here,” he said gently to get your attention. “You take the first hit. I’m going to light it and you’re going to suck in and hold it in.”

You nodded in understanding. 

“Not too much though,” he warned. 

The glass was cool in your hands as you took it from him. When he held the flame to it, you did as you were told before exhaling with care. He was looking at you with a proud expression when you met his eyes. 

You handed it back over to him, waiting until he was in the process of taking a hit before you spoke. 

“Tell me when you slept with her,” you demanded calmly, biting back a smirk at the way his breathing faltered. 

It had turned into a game of chicken as you held each other’s gazes silently. 

“You haven’t even answered the required question yet and you want me to do the extra credit?” he quipped. 

“The last person I fucked was a guy from tinder back home, and it happened a couple of months before I left,” you informed him confidently. “I’ve only ever had one boyfriend, and he was a prick, so when we broke up, I went on a tinder bender just to feel something.”

A small smile spread across his pink lips as he listened. 

“Now you.”

“She was my girlfriend last year. We broke up in April and I had a hard time saying no to late-night texts until the end of June.” His tone was sincere as far as you could tell, as were his eyes. 

You were starting to feel the hit you’d taken by then, and you took a pause from the conversation to lean over the side of his bed and grab the bag of suckers you knew was waiting there for this very occasion. 

The high washed over you in a gentle, pleasant manner, leaving you feeling a little dreamy. 

“Sucker?” you asked, holding the bag open for him. He breathed a laugh - probably at you offering him his own candy - and then plucked one from the bag. 

After he had it unwrapped, he held the bowl out to you again. “Want another? Or am I going to have to smoke the rest of this myself?”

“Yes, I’m sure that would be very rough on you, poor baby,” you teased. 

He huffed a laugh, sitting up a bit straighter in his position. “You want another one or not?”

You stared at him wordlessly for longer than was socially acceptable, but when you finally spoke, it was with conviction. “I’ll have another baby hit.” You pulled the cards from the pocket of your pajama pants. “But then we’re playing another card, right?.”

He glanced down at the bowl and then back up to you. “When you say ‘baby hit’-”

“I mean I want you to blow it into my mouth with your mouth,” you explained cheekily, making him huff a laugh. 

“You liked that, huh?” he asked, risking a dark glance up at you through his long lashes as his fingers played along the glass piece. 

You knew exactly what you wanted to say - could hear it in your head, but your body felt tight with nerves at the thought of actually saying it. “Not as much as you did, I’m guessing.”

Oh, damn, you said it. 

A smirk played across his mouth, his eyes half hooded. If you hadn’t been paying attention, you would have thought he was completely unaffected by your teasing, but you had been listening to his breathing, so you were perfectly aware when it changed slightly. It was just the smallest difference in sound like he was pulling in air through tighter lungs. 

“Be careful with what you’re accusing people of.” A warning, definitely, but almost more of a challenge. In the months that you’d spent with him, you’d never seen him like that, but you suppose you wouldn’t have unless- Unless you were about to make him do something truly reckless. 

You bit your bottom lip out of an anxious, excited energy. “Oh, my mistake then.”

The ball was in his court, and you could tell that he was expecting him to continue pressing him. A look of slight disappointment flashed behind his eyes, but you weren’t done yet. 

You nodded toward the bowl, prompting him to glance down at it like he had forgotten what he was doing in the game he was playing with you. He kept eye contact with you as he brought it to his mouth and lit it. You watched the white smoke circle the inside of the globe before he sucked it into his lungs. 

You tilted your chin up in invitation and tried to relax your muscles as he leaned in, his throat looking tight. 

You felt his nose brush yours first before you realized you had closed your eyes in anticipation. The smoky smell hit you first when you realized you were supposed to be taking it from him. You opened your eyes and tried to breathe it all in, but most of it was lost to the room. 

He had a tiny smirk playing on his features until you reached out and wrapped your hand around the back of his neck, pressing his forehead against yours in an abrupt motion. You could tell he had his teeth clenched by how tight his jaw looked. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from playing your fingers along the sharp line of it. 

“Do you want me?” you whispered, voice barely there at all. 

Through a labored breath, he responded with a smoky sounding, “What would give you that impression?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, but unsurprisingly, it came out sounding raw. Your fingers brushed across the short hair on the nape of his neck, the pleasant feeling causing his eyelids to flutter. 

You leaned forward until you pressed your cheekbone against his, lips right by his ear, and pointedly asked, “Do. You. Want. Me?”

“Fucking of course, I do,” he spat through clenched teeth, sounding distressed as his hands wrapped around your waist, thumbs pressed into your hipbones on either side. 

“Should we?” you asked, pulling back so you could see his face. 

“Probably not.” His words were humored, a melodic laugh accompanying them, but still somehow managed to not sound any less strained. 

You considered what he was saying for a moment, relishing in the idea that this was the last moment before the point of no return. “Just one hookup,” you reasoned. 

He smirked at you, looking all too smug and disbelieving. “Okay,” he agreed. 

Patiently, you waited for him to make the first move, your heartbeat bouncing around like a basketball in your chest. When you felt his hands move from your hips, your body tensed, trying to predict where they’d end up next. 

As he cupped your jaw with both hands, you melted a little, muscles noticeably relaxing. 

The kiss was tentative at first - just a brushing of his lips on yours like he was testing the waters. He held your face like he was afraid that you were going to vanish into thin air - like your presence was the key to his existence. 

You could hear his shallow breaths as he opened his mouth, pressing it against yours. His tongue tasted like the orange sucker he’d abandoned on its wrapper on top of the dresser next to his bed. You lapped at it, body rising as you shifted to crawl into his lap. With the way he was sitting, cross-legged on his bed straddling him was a bit of a strain on your inner thighs, but the feeling was oddly pleasing - like a warm-up for the workout you were about to endure. 

He let go of your face to place his hands back on your hips, pulling your body as close to his as it physically could be. Before he could situate you too firmly, you started to unbutton your pajama shirt, and bless his heart, he couldn’t help but watch your fingers work. 

“Is this really happening, or this just a super high fever dream?” he asked, shaking his head as he frowned like he wasn’t sure he could trust his eyes. 

You wanted to laugh at him, but you could hardly blame his disbelief. If someone had told you even earlier that week that you’d be in this position, you would have rolled your eyes at them. You hadn’t realized how much you wanted this until it was about to happen.

The last button undone, you let the garment fall, the pink and white striped fabric slipping off the bed and to the hardwood. 

The cool air was shocking on your bare skin at first, causing it to tighten - well, that and you could practically feel his eyes raking over your chest. 

“It’s happening,” you assured, leaning in until you were speaking against his parted lips. 

The feeling of him brushing the pads of his fingers over your nipple made your breathing shudder. When you tipped your head back, he ducked in and pressed his mouth to your throat, dragging a stripe across your skin with the flat of his tongue. Every part of your whole body felt hot, but none more than between your legs. You tried to grind yourself down on him, but couldn’t seem to get a good angle - luckily, he seemed to notice, and halted your movements with his hands on your hips, stretching his legs out straight.

He pulled back just far enough to see your face when he ground you down onto him, the outline of his cock slipping against your core. Even with all the layers between you, the feeling still made you crumble against him, a whine escaping your lips of its own volition. It was clear that he felt it too as he bit his lip, his eyes fluttering. 

You seized the opportunity to get your fingers under his shirt, lifting it over his head as he held his arms up for you. Before he could prepare for it, you pressed closer, pressing a kiss to his temple and then nipping at his earlobe. The cool metal of his earring was pleasing against your tongue, and you reveled in the moment as he sucked in a sharp, shocked breath. 

His hands snaked around your sides, palms wide as he cupped your ass and used the leverage to pull you against him again. Burying his nose in the crook of your neck, he let a shaky breath escape him.

You could feel his thumbs hook under the elastic band of your pajama bottoms as he started to slip them down the cleft of your ass. Once it was bare, he ran his fingers over it, movement stalling as he looked at you with an eyebrow raised. 

“Are you not wearing panties?”

You scoffed. “Not to bed, obviously. Are you implying that you wear something under those loose pants?”

The corners of his lips tilted up in a wicked smirk. “I encourage you to find out.”

You giggled at his confidence, sweetly nudging your forehead against his, so he didn’t expect the swift movement of your hand as you tugged the tie of his sweats down. The answer to your previous question was “no” - he hissed as you grabbed his erection, swiping your thumb across the head, glossy from the dim light through the blinds. It was just a tease though, because a split second later, you let go of it in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your mouth against his again. 

As you pressed him back, he tried to hold you, but once he realized you weren’t just leaning on him for support, he relented. You laid him back on his bed, pulling back as you slipped your bottoms off the rest of the way. 

“Jesus,” he breathed as his eyes took in the whole of your naked body above him. “Hang on.” 

He reached to the bedside table and grabbed the bowl and lighter. After he sucked in another hit and set the piece back down, he tugged you in roughly, depositing the smoke directly into your mouth. You tried to hold it in like he had taught you, but you were much more interested in getting your tongue into his mouth. 

Still, you were plenty high, so much so that looking down on his bare form had tears threatening your eyes. He looked so soft and sweet despite the position he was in, his eyes half-lidded and one hand behind his head, one on your bare hip. 

You shifted until you could grind your core against the length of him, the wetness letting it slip through easily. 

“Fuck.” You had thought it was an exclamation of pleasure until you opened your eyes and saw a scowl painted across his face. “I definitely don’t have a condom.”

You hummed through a smile. “I don’t blame you, I definitely didn’t expect this.”

He frowned up at you. “We can just try something else if you want,” he offered.

“Well, I’m on birth control, and given the length of time between our last sexual encounters, I’m guessing we’re both clean - I know I am.”

He stared at you for a long moment before really realizing what you were implying, but once he did, he licked his lips in consideration. 

“Come here.” You weren’t sure what he was requesting until he grabbed onto your thighs and guided you up until you were straddling his face. 

The thought of it made you blush, and surely your cheeks were hot to the touch. 

He started with broad strokes of his tongue, just dragging it through. You briefly wished he had a headboard for you to brace yourself on, but your thoughts quickly became completely incoherent. You decided you were going to lean back instead, placing your palms flat on his bent knees. When you were completely comfortable and situated, he started pointedly flicking his tongue against your clit directly, first very soft and teasing, but building to something rougher and more deliberate. 

You thought you were actually going to shake apart when he sucked your clit right into his mouth, rolling the bead of it around on the flat surface. When you could feel yourself getting close to the edge, you threaded your fingers through his curls, keeping him close. 

The moment you lost it, everything in the room melted away from you - just a black expanse with flicks of color littered throughout it. 

You took a moment to catch your breath, trying to bring yourself, at least partly, back to reality. When you pulled away from him, you were met with the sight of him - the entire bottom half of his face slick with your come. 

He only let you watch in fascination as it dripped from his chin for a second before he was pushing you back, your head laid at the foot of the bed. He slipped his sweats off the rest of the way before crawling over you. 

There was no way you could have blamed him as he pushed in, seemingly not having any time for a slow entrance - you did make him sit there, untouched, for god knows how long. You certainly couldn’t name even a rough estimate for the amount of time passed. 

The spark of pleasure that shot through you made you throw your head back, your spine arching as you let out a whine. 

“I’m sorry, are you okay?” he breathed, through tight teeth.

“Yes,” you hissed as you ground yourself down onto him. “Keep going.”

Your eyes were closed, but you were sure he was wearing an awed expression. You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him in until your foreheads were pressed together. When he started to move his hips, you let out a long, pleased hum, pressing your nails into the skin on his shoulders. 

Your whole lower half was still incredibly sensitive, so every time he brushed you, it made you writhe a bit beneath him. “Mm, fuck,” you growled as he intentionally reached down and pressed his thumb into your clit, the feeling resting somewhere between “just perfect” and “way too much”.  

He was biting his lip as he watched your reaction intently. You felt his hand snake down your outer thigh, gripping it from the bottom. He lifted it up, near-forcing you to wrap it around his hip.

The new angle was a different kind of feeling - something hot deeper in your gut like someone placed a smoldering ember in your belly.  You weren’t paying attention to anything but your own impending orgasm, so you didn’t expect it when he sucked your nipple into his mouth. He raked his teeth over the bud, causing your hips to jerk against him. 

When you opened your eyes and met his, you took a moment to absorb his expression - like he was seeing another dimension through your face. 

You could tell he was close when his lips fell open, but that was perfect because he was taking you with him. You hitched your legs around his hips and squeezed, letting your head tip back. 

When you came a second time, it was with his open mouth pressed to your throat, his hot breath hitting your damp skin. You let out a low whine, fingers tangled in his hair, probably a little too tight.

You suspected it was probably your muscles clenching in orgasm around him that set him off, a string of expletives falling from his kiss-swollen lips. His hips shuddered as he fucked you through it. 

The other side of your collective climax was warm and fuzzy, like watching home videos from the ‘60s. When he was able to hold himself all the way up, you ran your fingers through his damp curls affectionately. 

He was clearly trying to get his bearings, his breath flowing in and out of him like a tide. 

“Are you okay?” he whispered, sounding like he might not be able to speak any louder than he currently was if he wanted to.

 You hummed through a smile. “So good, Maybe never better.”

He rubbed his nose against yours, the smallest hint of an upward tilt to his lips. “I’m high as hell, so I’m not sure what’s acceptable for our situation right now, but can I kiss you?”

“We probably shouldn’t,” you admitted, making his expression fall slightly. 

He nodded at you in reluctant agreement. “You’re right.” 

You bit your bottom lip. “Ah, fuck it, we’ll start going back to normal tomorrow.”

[sundaymorninglife]

the party.

corpse husband x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, drugs, alcohol, insinuation of sex.

a note: can you tell i miss partying? e/n = your ex’s name. just choose the assholiest asshole you have dated. hope you enjoy!

part 2

the party was at its peak.

music was blaring through the speakers, in a bathroom upstairs some people were quietly sniffing powder, hoping to not get caught, downstairs others were downing shots, ignoring the hangover they would probably suffer the following morning.

y/n was leaning against the living room wall, talking with a few friends, drink in hand. the party was being held by her friend mark, who was trying his best to network with the people who had shown up unexpectedly. living in LA came with that burden- life was a constant reminder to network everywhere. y/n looked around as she half listened to whatever rae and lily were talking about, when she spotted him.

“shit.”

rae and lily looked over at her, rae shouted over the music, “what’s wrong y/n?”

“my ex is here! you know, the guy who broke up with me because i moved to LA? what the fuck is he doing here?!” she shouted back, anger rising in her. the alcohol certainly didn’t help her keep a logical head.

of course he was here, he was probably visiting mark. y/n cursed under her breath and made a mental note to shout at mark later in the night for not giving her a warning. she noticed he was walking over to where she was standing. “fuck,” she looked at rae and lily, “please tell me i look hot as fuck. and don’t let me hook up with him.”

rae and lily laughed, before lily said “you look hot as shit, y/n. c’mon, don’t let him get to you!” and so her two friends scurried away, of course low key hoping y/n would hook up with him so they’d have something to gossip about in the morning.

y/n sighed and held onto her drink tighter. her ex strode over to her with drunken confidence, and once he finally was in front of her, he slurred, “heyyy! y/n! what are you doing here?” she rolled her eyes at him.

“i think i should be the one asking that, e/n. i was the one who moved to LA, remember? not you.” she made her best to avoid eye contact. he was an asshole, for sure, but she was tipsy and she would be lying to herself if there weren’t nights where she missed feeling him on her.

he inched closer to her and she immediately forgot all of that though. he was drunk and smelled of cigarettes. “you look beautiful,” he whispered, and as he was about to make a move, y/n felt strong arms wrap around her shoulders.

“is this guy bothering you?” corpse’s deep voice rumbled. e/n immediately pulled back, stunned at the deep voice. it was enough to make him sober up a little. corpse meanwhile glared at him, his grip tightening on y/n.

corpse had been watching the whole affair from a distance. he was kind of pissed off at jack for dragging him to a party, his anxiety only subsiding as he drank a couple of gin and tonics as the night went on. he knew y/n through rae, and he’d be damned if he didn’t admit he had the tiniest crush on her. alas, she didn’t really pay much attention to him, having sworn off men (and especially casual hook ups) after having recently broken up with e/n. she was new in LA, and didn’t want to complicate her friendship with rae and lily by hooking up with a mutual friend. corpse knew all this, and so he didn’t make a move either. he also wasn’t in the mental state to be in a relationship.

but he couldn’t not do anything as he saw e/n get uncomfortably close to her. he didn’t know what feeling was stronger- his jealousy seeing another man approaching y/n, or his concern for her wellbeing, because he didn’t know how much she had drank.

and so, leaving a drunken jack yelling after him, he went over to her.

he stared at e/n, looked back over to y/n. “so,” he repeated, “is he bothering you?”

e/n looked like he had just shit his pants. y/n let out a snort, settled further into corpse. “actually yeah, he kinda is. e/n, this is corpse.” she placed a hand on his chest, and corpse almost melted into her touch. this wasn’t helping his silly crush.

“i um,” e/n looked around nervously, clearly terrified of corpse, “i’m gonna go. it was nice seeing you again, y/n.” not one second after, e/n had scurried into the crowd of the party.

y/n broke away from corpse. “thanks for that,” she said, and corpse could tell she was relieved that e/n had gone away.

“no problem. that’s your ex right?” he asked, looking around the party. people were starting to dance to the music blaring through the house.

“yeah,” y/n shouted back, “did rae tell you what happened?” she looked at him, and for a second he looked back and nodded. that second felt eternal, as he examined her face. her eyes, the curve of her lips, her hair slightly tucked behind her ear- shit. fuck. he looked away.

“yeah he seems like an ass. sorry that happened to you.”

y/n scoffed. “i don’t need your pity, corpse. relationships end, it’s part of life.” she finished the drink in her hand. “do you want to grab another drink with me?”

and so they headed to the kitchen, which was mostly empty except for a couple people. two girls were making out on the counter, a group of friends was consoling a crying 20 something year old. otherwise, the kitchen seemed like the most peaceful place in the entire house. y/n went to mix her drink, as corpse did the same.

y/n made another mental note. be careful, l/n. don’t let this crush overcome you. of course she had sworn off men after e/n, but she wasn’t expecting to meet corpse right after she moved to LA. rae was kind enough to introduce her to a wonderful group of people, and y/n didn’t want to screw that up by immediately sleeping with someone. besides, she reminded herself, one night stands are always awkward and someone always ends up unsatisfied, she had been through plenty to know as much.

but, dammit. she was kind of tipsy. she continued mixing her drink, and without making eye contact she quickly said, “you know, if you keep saving me like that i might have to end up sleeping with you.”

corpse almost dropped the bottle of gin he was holding. “come again?” there was no way he had heard her correctly.

y/n laughed. she was sober enough to be aware of what she was doing, but tipsy enough to have just the right amount of bravery to say it. “you heard me,” she said, as she poured the coke into her cup, “you pull that shit again and i might end up having to sleep with you.” she looked at him. ah, she thought, this might be a mistake, but as long as no one finds out...

corpse stared at her, a blush creeping into his face. “i thought you didn’t do one night stands.”

“i don’t.”

“and i thought you had sworn off relationships after what happened with-“

“i’m not suggesting that either, corpse.”

she put a finger into her cup to mix the jack and coke. corpse stared at her, his heart beating fast. was she about to...?

“what i’m saying is...” she paused, choosing her words carefully, “why don’t we have fun. no feelings. just- you know what i mean.” she looked at him. he stared back. she was gorgeous. he wanted to say yes, but what about his crush, and if he developed stronger feelings, and if anyone in their close-knit group found out...

“okay, i can tell you’re thinking about this too much,” she laughed (she swore she could see the wheels turning in his head!), “tell you what. i’m gonna go to the bathroom upstairs, and kick out whoever is doing coke. meet me there in ten if you want to do this. if not, this never happened, and we can blame this little speech of mine on alcohol and your saving me from e/n.” she took a swig of her drink.

“up to you, corpsie.” she smiled at him, before turning around and leaving the kitchen.

jesus christ, he thought as he watched her figure leave. “fuck,” he whispered to himself, as he downed his drink.