#i spent too long staring at his card thing with all the effects on it trying to decipher the outfit

[marvogue]

A Shin Malphur concept since Destiny won my poll \ o /

enjoy :)c

[digitaldiarystuff]

The Interview

Hi guyss! Thank you so much for the support for my last post, here’s another idea I’ve had and if you want a part 2 to any of my stories feel free to reach out to me!

————

summary: You’re an actress in Spain who supports atletico and are asked in an interview about Joao’s goal against your team, you playfully answer and receive a notification afterwards.

genre: fluff

pairing: Joao Felix x Y/N

————

So, Y/N, we’re coming to the end of our interview but before that, I see here in my cards that you’re a die hard Atletico fan. Is it true?” Jim, the interviewer asked. You giggled.

“It’s true Jim, growing up, my dad was a football man. We spent every weekend watching games in the stadium or at home and I still do, just not going to games because of my crazy schedule, just watching them with my Griezmann shirt at home. We’re all big fans.” you answered truthfully. You loved watching the games but sometimes it was hard to catch up.

“So, did you watch the game they played against Barcelona?” he asked, intrigued.

“I did, actually. It was heartbreaking.” you said.

“Oh yeah yeah. Felix scoring the goal.”

“Yeah, it was hard to watch because I always knew he was a good player, seeing him score against us was hard.” you answered hoping that nobody would get upset because as much as it was true, you knew you had to make interviews professionally. Especially the live ones.

Soon after, the interview was done and you were in the backstage grabbing your items to head out. It was an off-day and you had planned on going home and not do anything.

When you went into the house, your dog, Biscuit was waiting for you at the door. You played with her for a few minutes and then grabbed some treats from the kitchen and a blanket to make yourself cozy and watch some TV but your phone vibrating like crazy meant the interview was up and everyone had seen it. You weren’t a big time celebrity but your recent role in a Netflix series has gained you tons of attention.

You were going through your message requests seeing the good and the bad things people said until one name caught your eye.

Joao Felix

Sorry to break your heart 💔 he said. You stared at the message for what felt like an eternity.

Maybe one or two footballers slid in your dm’s in the past months but none had any effect on you but Joao’s single sentence made your tummy flip. Was he mad? How could you respond to this, if you were to respond of course because you shouldn’t. Right?

It’s a little late for that, what’s done is done, you wrote but deleted right after, was it too harsh. You always had a weird sense of humor and enjoyed banter in flirting but you didn’t even know if this was flirty.

Well, you could always make up for it, you wrote then but feared it might be too forward, what if he was just apologizing genuinely to a fan? Oh god that would be embarrassing.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s just your job” you wrote and sent. This is the most appropriate, you thought. And maybe, he wouldn’t even respond after this.

You were wrong, he replied back in a minute.

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

Okay, this wasn’t about all fans, you thought. Because he specifically asked what could he do for you. Breathe Y/N, breathe.

Before replying, you quickly went onto his page, he was an amazing looking athlete there’s no denying and you’re single so you shouldn’t feel bad about the butterflies in your stomach.

“You could start with a dinner.” you replied and threw the phone on the couch scared of his response. Oh god, you hope you didn’t misread the interaction.

After a few minutes you decided this was stupid and picked the phone up.

“My pleasure. Tonight at 8?” he wrote and you nearly screamed, this gorgeous man was taking you out tonight and you were already shaking.

You quickly said ok and decided to have a long shower and get ready since it’s already 5. He also asked for your location to pick you up at 8.

After the shower you went into your closet trying to decide on what to wear and ended up with a navy dress and did your makeup. Just as you were putting on earrings, you heard the door knock. You tried calming yourself and opened the door and saw the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on with a big smile and a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

“Hi.” he said sheepishly.

“Hi.” you replied equally giddy.

“Are you ready?” he asked, eyeing you up and down.

“Yes, here just let me take those of your hands and we can go.” you said, blushing because he was looking at you with no shame.

He drove you to a fancy restaurant which you’d once been with your manager as a celebration but he reserved a secluded table for the two of you.

At first, you were a little nervous about being on a date with him but that quickly went away as you talked about anything and everything. You quickly realized he was the most down to earth guy and wasn’t full of himself. He listened and gave you compliments as you described your life and you listened about his career. Before you knew it, it was nearly midnight and you were having the time of your life. You didn’t have to put on a facade with him and say whatever.

When the bill came, you of course offered but he wouldn’t budge and paid for the night and helped you walk to the exit with his hand on the small of your back. You got goosebumps just from a simple touch.

You went in the car and he started driving so you put on the radio and singing along the song when he joined you. You giggled.

“What, do you not like my voice?” he asked offended.

“No, I actually do.” you said. It felt like you knew him for years.

“I had fun tonight.” he said while walking you to your door.

“Me too, thank you for everything.” you said as you walked up the stairs to your door.

You stood just looking at each other’s eyes, lost in the moment.

“I sho-“

“Do you want to come inside?” you cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

“Yeah.” he smiled as you walked in the door.

He started looking at your home, analyzing details and when he saw the pictures of your family, he smiled.

“Did I also break your dad’s heart?” he asked.

“Why, are you going to buy him dinner too?”

“No, that was all for you.” he said as he walked over and held your waist looking at you intensely.

You looked up at him and smiled. He leaned in and stopped, as a way of making sure this was okay and you gave him the permission by pressing your lips against his. He smiled into the kiss and started moving his lips immediately. You lost yourself at his touch and placed your hands behind his head, playing with his hair. His hands roamed over your body trying to hold you closer.

“Y/N, I think I like you.” he said after you broke the kiss to breathe.

“I think I like you too Joao.” you said smiling widely.

“Now take me upstairs.” you said in a quiet tone, needing more of him.

He nodded immediately telling you to jump and wrap your legs around his torso. He carried you upstairs and you strengthened the connection you found today, until the sun came up.

You opened your eyes slowly, feeling a presence next to you and it was Joao. He was still sleeping. After you went to sleep, your mind wandered if this was just for one night but seeing him next to you happily snoring made that feeling go away. You carefully escaped his arms holding you at place to wash your face and go down to the kitchen. Just as you were passing the living room, you saw the flowers he brought last night. Smiling to yourself, you picked them up to put in a vase when you noticed a card sitting in between pink tulips.

You opened it up to see what was inside and found a note from him and smiled even wider if it’s possible.

“I hope this is the beginning of a great story”

————

Ahh, this was sooo sweet even when I was writing I was smiling, hope you enjoyed it! Feedback is always appreciated luvs 🌷

[prof-peach]

ADOPTABLES NOW LOOKING FOR A HOME £25 (British Pound) per mon, Paypal only, First come first serve, DM to proceed with a paypal email for the invoice should you be interested.

HOUNDOURXPOOCHYENA -------- SOLD MECH RATTATA --------------------- SOLD ODDISH (CRETA) -------------------- SOLD MAGIKARPXCARVANHA ----------- SOLD

------------------------------Bio's below-------------------------------

As you approach the adoption booth nestled beside a smoothie stand, and a small shack renting wetsuits for the ocean close by, a woman with dark hair tied back smiles in your direction. The staff member dons the token Dōtaku green shirt, whispering to the cluster of pokemon at her feet, and the one in the tank on the table behind her, all watching on, ever hopeful.

"Welcome to Dōtaku Island's adoption day, we have three sweet mons looking for their forever homes, each with unique personalities, which im sure I can shed some light on for you, if you like?"

As you move along the line, she begins to talk to you about each.

You start on the small pup, a dark furred pokemon that stares up at you with big open eyes, standing just under 2ft in height. "This one was rescued from Magma grunts, a Houndour and Poochyena cross. She was quite agressive at the start of her rehabilitation, but now has passed all saftey measures with flying colours, and enjoys a good scratch on the belly these days. The professors have worked wonders on her, she'd make an excellent companion for anyone who struggles with the cold, but probably not the best for serious battle, as she's a little shy when under direct observation by many people. Her typing is Dark currently, and we dont expect her to gain more than mild fire attacks shoudl she choose to evolve. Warm cuddles are something she specialises in, an ember no doubt may be possible with time, but a mighty flamethrower might not be in her cards. Focus her exercise on agility, she sure can run, and LOVES to chase things, so balls and frisbees are great fun!" Next in the line is a rather old looking Rattata, one hand prostetic, but seemingly dexterous and functional.

"This little fella is affectionatly known as Clank, he walks around and you can hear his little paw on the tiles in the labs, so it kind of stuck. He unfortunatly found his way into some farming equipment that got turned on, and was brought to us as a last chance about three years ago now. He survived against all odds, sadly other professors and medical experts didnt want to give him the chance her deserved due to his common species type. Clank however defeated all odds, recovered, despite losing tail and hand, he was gifted a new one by Professor Grey, and now lives a very busy little life. He loves bananas and peanuts, and has a sharp mind, so needs a lot of enrichment like complex toys and one on one time with a trainer. He's not too good with larger mons, so we advise he have his own space, or go to a home with other smaller pokemon."

The third is a rather large oddish, standing double the size of the average specimine of its kind.

"This lovley lady has been nicknamed Monroe, she's a bit of a diva now, but wasn't always so confident. Professor Peach spent a couple years one on one with her to build up her moral. She came to us with a pretty heavy viral infection that caused dieback in the leaves, and her unusual complexion, the lumps however are superficial, and cause no discomfort, issue, or long term effects other than originally causing her emotional distress. She use to feel less than pretty, we'd had a few trainers pass her up due to hew apperance, they were less than friendly about their opinions of her, as you can imagine they got chewed out pretty badly by Peach and all teh staff who were there to overhear. She felt down, so the one on one time was all about making her feel amazing again! When her leaves started to grow back in we realised she was an unusual species, resembling Aglaonema Creta, a very pretty plant. She is jolly and sweet and kind, and just wants to shine, potentially a great candidate for contests or more flamboyant battles if you were so inclined."

The last in sat in a large tank on teh stall behind her, a grumpy looking water type.

"Mr.Grumpy here isnt all that mean, dont let his expression fool you, he's been looking for a home for a while now, but he just gets passed off as intimidating or scary, so it's been a long journey for him to find that perfect partner. A Magikarp and Carvanha cross, he can be tempermental, a little rough at times, not so easy to handle, but more than capable in a fight. he likes his fin held, and the staff have taken to putting movies on a laptop for him when hes not out in the rivers and waterways. His check ups go swimmingly, pardon the pun, thanks to media distraction. He hardly bites anyone these days, unless youre rude and done ask him before handling him. He's all about polite manners, so if you do that, nothign can go wrong! We're not sure what he'll evolve into if he chooses to, though we have a sneaking suspicion he'd be a water/dark type due to his moveset."

[mochiwonz]

─── LITTLE PINK MINISKIRT ୨୧

PAIRING. fem!reader x boyfriend!park sunghoon CONTENT. fluff , suggestive , petnames , cursing , reader is very girly NOTE. this is the final post for sunghoon's bday :D i hope u all enjoyyy <3

[ 💬 ] ... sunghoon loves you in that little pink miniskirt !

to say that sunghoon loves you would definitely be an understatement. he adores and cherishes you like nothing he's ever loved before. you're the most beautiful person he's ever known, inside and out. he would give the whole universe to you if he could.

and he's quite simply in awe of you, he sees you as an angel on earth.

sunghoon loves doing things for you, he's an acts of service guy— especially around you. he just feels the need to take care of you, it's as simple as that. if you're sore, he'll massage you for however long you need him to. when you're hungry, he'll make you whatever you want. oh, you need to buy more miniskirts? he'll give you his card immediately and let you go on a spree.

he loves when you wear your cute little miniskirts. especially the pink lace one, that's his favorite. whenever you ask him what you should wear, he'll always point to that little pink miniskirt. at this point, you were very well aware that it was his favorite one.

you also notice how he literally drools every time you wear a miniskirt. he's obvious about it, but he doesn't care— you're too fucking pretty.

today was your annual shopping spree day, and you spent a good hour picking out your outfit. and not to anyone's surprise, sunghoon was with you the whole time.

"baby what miniskirt are you thinking of wearing today?" he asks curiously, secretly hoping that you choose the pink lace one.

"hm...dunno. but i was kind-of thinking about pairing a white tube top with that one pink miniskirt that you love so much" you say while playing with your hair.

he loves you so fucking much. he loves how you notice the little things, he loves how you talk, he loves how you play with your hair when you're deep in thought, he loves how you dress. he loves everything about you.

"definitely wear the pink miniskirt, it looks so good on you baby"

and so, you put on the little pink miniskirt and sunghoon is gawking. no matter how many times he's seen you wear it, you always look so beautiful.

he loves how this specific miniskirt compliments your perky little ass, and honestly— it really gets him going.

oh and one other thing, he literally can't control himself around you. like, zero self control whatsoever. it's what he calls the "y/n effect".

as you're putting a little pink bow in your hair, you suddenly feel a pair of arms wrap around your lower back— dangerously close to your ass. guess sunghoon couldn't control himself today, either.

"hoonnn" you whine, knowing you probably won't end up leaving for another few hours now.

"hm?" he hums, acting innocent. obviously, you can see through his act.

you turn your head to look back at him and he has this dumb smile on his face, he found you so cute. he couldn't ever put it into words.

"baby i love you but we should go now, they might close soon" you try to convince him, but you can easily tell that it isn't going to work.

"i checked earlier my love, they don't close till nine and it's...six right now" he tells you in a "matter-of-fact" tone.

you stare at his pretty hands that are wrapped around your body— maybe his unspoken idea doesn't sound all too bad.

you ended up not going to the store anyways.

you definitely had to go some other time though— to get another pink lace miniskirt, duh.

please like and reblog if u enjoyed ! u can find my other works here :D

© mochiwonz ― all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, or translate my work.

[milky04moo]

Interruptions~ D.W

prompt:  ‘How long are you guys going to stand around my bed like a bunch of creepers?’

word count: 563

You loved spending time with Damian at his house, it was always so much more entertaining than your own house however with all of his siblings and his butler around it did mean the two of you rarely got to spend any time alone but you never made a fuss about it as his brothers always loved to tell you embarrassing stories about Damian. Today was a very rare occasion when Damian and yourself were the only ones in the manor, Dick had gone back to Bludhaven, Jason was off doing god knows what, Bruce and Tim were on a business trip and Alfred was visiting family back in England which meant you got Damian and the house all to yourself.

The whole day was spent baking random sweet treats ready for the evening when you got to have the cinema room in the manor all to yourselves. You baked cupcakes, cookies and pizza and managed to not burn the place down which was a huge plus.  And so here you were cuddled up together on the soft seats watching whatever movie Damian had picked, clearly not actually watching as you were too busy staring at the young man whose head was laid in your lap. You turned your head back to the screen absentmindedly threading your fingers through his hair enjoying the feel of it carding through fingers. 

 After a while the movie ended and you checked your phone seeing it was late.

‘You wanna go to bed?’ you proposed to the man in your lap and he made nodded his head and made his way to get up 

You both quickly got ready for bed in comfortable silence and hopped in his bed. You felt him press a quick peck to your temple before falling asleep.

The next thing you knew you were being woken up by a hushed voice from who you could only assume was Dick based on the gushing that was going on around your bed. This went on for a while but you just pretended to be asleep to avoid the awkwardness of your boyfriend's brothers gushing over you and your boyfriend cuddling up together. That was until a voice from beside you halted the hushing going on

‘How long are you guys going to stand around my bed like a bunch of creepers?’ Damian grumbled, his morning voice very prominent which made butterflies bloom in your stomach, it was cliché but he never failed to have this effect on you

Damian nuzzled more into your back trying to ignore his annoying brothers, when they still persisted in their gushing he grabbed the nearest decorative pillow and threw it in their general direction, you assumed it hit Tim based on the small ‘hey’ from the unsuspecting boy. Eventually they all left which left just you and Damian again. You turned to face the man behind you to see he was awake, he gave you a sleepy smile and pecked you on the nose. The two of you sat admiring each other for a while before he broke the silence.

‘I’m sorry for the beloved they are insufferable sometimes. I didn’t even think they would be back this early’ he apologised 

‘Its ok Dami.’ you reassured pecking his lips 

The small moments between you and Damian were always great despite his brothers always finding a way to interrupt.

[cable-knit-sweater]

Let Your Hair Down

By @cable-knit-sweater , @controlofwhatido, @cynefinhome & @sparkagrace

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Word count: 1.6k

Rating: Teen

Notes: @controlofwhatido said “Someone needs to write a fluff fic about Bucky learning the 'plop' method that's been going around everywhere to really bring out his curls.” And we all had some thoughts. So here you go, Bucky finding his curly hair routine and becoming a YouTuber, Steve getting in the way because he can’t keep his hands off of Bucky. I apologize for the title card 😂

Bucky’s been on the couch watching these videos for over an hour now. Steve hasn’t paid much attention, but apparently it’s about hair, even if terms like “curly girl method” and “diffuser” and “sulfate free” mean nothing to him.

He tries to look over Bucky’s shoulder, and catches part of something that looks like a tutorial for doing curly hair. His lips curl into a smile. Bucky has always spent a lot of time on his hair. “That looks like it’d be a lot of effort, Buck,” he murmurs after the woman in the video shows the products she’s used once more.

Bucky stares up at him with a frown, then turns back to the video, shaking his head. Steve chuckles, but can’t resist running his hand through Bucky’s curls before he walks away.

A couple of days later, the door rings and a delivery guy drops off a bunch of boxes, all with Bucky’s name on them. “Uhm, Bucky?” He asks, walking into the living room with the boxes stacked in his arms. “Buck? I have a package for you.”

Bucky walks up to him, smirking. “I’m sure ya do,” he says, making Steve roll his eyes, but he can’t keep the smile off his face. Unfortunately, Bucky is more focused on the packages when he spots them than he is on Steve’s package, lighting up at the sight of them and taking them from Steve’s hands.

“I have to go shower,” Bucky announces, but he doesn’t move yet, just goes to open the boxes. He takes out multiple bottles, cans and tubs of product, different combs, and something that looks like a hairdryer, but comes with this weird attachment that Steve hasn’t seen before.

“What is all this?” Steve asks, like he can’t see they’re all hair products.

Bucky looks at him like he’s a little stupid, which, fair. “It’s for my hair,” he says dryly.

“Yeah, I can see that, but…don’t you already have stuff that works?”

Bucky shakes his head. “No, that’s not good for my hair. It dries it out. This is specifically for my curl type.”

“But…that’s so many products.”

“Steveee. I need to try out what works best, I’m not gonna put all of this in my hair at the same time.” Bucky goes to explain more about the products, and how he’s supposed to use them. Steve gets lost somewhere around the explanation of co-washing. Still, Bucky seems excited about all of this, so Steve smiles and just listens to him talk.

At some point, Bucky’s excitement is clearly getting too much for him to wait much longer, and Steve lets him go take that shower. He’s only a little disappointed that he’s not allowed to join him.

Thirty minutes later, Steve walks into the bedroom, finding Bucky just in his boxers and sitting in front of the mirror, using a t-shirt to dry his hair by…scrunching it. “What are you doing? Why not use a towel like- wait, is that my shirt?” he asks.

Bucky’s silence betrays him a little. “Uhm yes, it was the best thing to use for this?” He finally says, pausing the tutorial he was playing on his phone again.

Steve chuckles. “Didn’t want to use one of your own shirts, huh?”

Bucky’s head is tilted slightly, curls hanging over his face, but Steve can see him smirk a little through the curtain of hair.

He leaves Bucky to it when he gets slapped with a wet shirt for touching the weird hair dryer thing. It takes a long time for Bucky to finish doing his hair - even longer than usual - but when he walks into the living room, Steve can’t deny that the effect of whatever he did, is incredible.

Now, Steve’s always been a little obsessed with Bucky’s hair. He loves that he’s keeping it longer these days, loves to run his fingers through it, loves the way Bucky looks in the mornings: sleep soft and messy curls in his face. But whatever he did now…his hair looks even shinier than usual, perfectly curled. The satisfied smile on Bucky’s face makes it even better.

He holds out his hand to Bucky, pulling him into his lap. “Wow,” he breathes out. “That is really worth it, god you look good Buck.” Steve’s heart flutters a little at the sight of Bucky blushing and ducking his head down.

“You think so?” He asks.

Steve runs his hands through his boyfriend’s hair. “Yeah, whatever you did, it…it looks amazing.”

“Thank you,” Bucky murmurs, before frowning a little and pushing Steve’s hands away from his hair. “Don’t mess with it too much though, I’m FaceTiming with Nat later and I want to show her.”

“But I can mess with it after?” Steve asks, smirking.

Bucky presses a kiss to his lips. “Yeah, you can mess with it later,” he says back with a grin, getting out of Steve’s lap, probably just in case. Which is smart because Steve doesn’t think he can take his hands off Bucky much longer.

For some reason, Steve thought Bucky would just stick with this routine and that would be it. He’s wrong. Bucky tries out all the different products he’s ordered: masks, conditioners, leave-in conditioners, shampoos, gels, serums…Steve is still not sure what they’re all for, except the obvious ones.

He tries all of them out, asking Steve what he thinks, and usually Nat and Wanda too, because he doesn’t seem to trust Steve’s judgment. Which, yeah, he really shouldn’t, because Bucky could wear his hair in a messy bun every day and Steve would still think his hair would look perfect. The deliveries don’t stop either, new boxes of products arriving at their place almost every week.

One morning, when Steve’s just waking up, he can hear Bucky talking in the shower, but he doesn’t think much of it. Bucky’s been doing that more and more recently.

Slowly, he gets out of bed to get dressed and get started on breakfast. But when he looks through his dresser for a shirt, he can’t find any. He’s starting to get used to not having anything to wear because Bucky’s been using his shirts to “plop” his hair every time, and all his shirts end up wet or covered in product.

Still, he’s thinking about going through the laundry basket to see if there’s anything clean enough to put on. But then Bucky gets out of the bathroom, still talking…about his hair routine?

He’s holding his phone camera pointed at his face, recording himself. Steve stays seated on the bed, giving him a curious look. Bucky looks back at him appreciatively – clearly he doesn’t mind the lack of shirts either – but then continues his story, talking about the next start in his process.

Bucky sits down in front of the mirror again, showing the camera the leave-in product he’s about to apply. Apparently, he already stole the last of Steve’s shirts because he uses it to plop his hair when he’s done doing that. Steve just looks on, not realizing he’s doing it until Bucky pauses the recording and looks at him.

“Steve, what’s with all the sighing?”

Steve smiles. “Nothing. Just love watching you do this.”

“Can you do it a little quieter? I’m trying to explain my routine to people.”

“Aren’t there hundreds of videos already of people doing that?”

“Yes, Steve, there are, but almost none for men. And not so much for my hair type. I’m trying to make men feel good about their longer curly hair too.”

Steve melts at that. “That’s…that’s amazing, Buck,” he says softly. “I’ll be quiet?”

Bucky smiles back at him. “Okay, then you can keep watching.” He winks at Steve before going back to his recording.

At some point, Steve can’t help himself anymore. Bucky’s done with his routine so he’s sure he’ll stop recording soon. He gets off the bed and walks over, doing his best to stay off camera.

When he’s next to Bucky, he’s suddenly hit with the overwhelming urge to have his hands in Bucky’s hair. He gives in to that urge, running his fingers through the soft, slightly wet strands.

“STEVE,” Bucky yells only a second later. Before Steve can respond, he gets water sprayed in his face. Bucky stares at him, incredulous, holding a spray bottle in his hands. “You can’t touch it until it’s set, you’re gonna make it frizzy!”

Steve has to laugh at the reaction. “You mean if I do this,” he asks, running his hands through Bucky’s hair again.

“No, bad boy, stay away,” Bucky says, spraying him again, but he’s laughing too. “Also, go put a shirt on or something. People thirst over you enough as is, begone!”

Steve tilts his head, picks up the wet shirt from the ground and puts that on. It’s a little uncomfortable, but it’s worth it with how Bucky looks at him, eyes darkening, staring at his chest again.

Bucky turns around to face his camera. “Well, that’s it for now, I’ll link the products below, this was the Bucky Curl Method, I’ll see you next week,” he rushes out before stopping the recording. He gets up, crowding Steve a little.

“You’re a punk, you know that?”

“I can’t help it,” Steve says, hands in Bucky’s hair again. “Just look so good when you’re doing that. How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself?”

Bucky pushes his head a little more against the palm of Steve’s hand. “Hmm, maybe…” he says, closing his eyes. “Maybe I’ll do another tutorial. Still a lotta products I need to try and review.”

“Yeah?” Steve breathes, pulling Bucky closer to him. “Does that mean I can mess it up now?”

Bucky smirks at him. “Yeah, you can mess it up.”

And Steve - as much as he loves how perfect Bucky’s curls look right now - has never been able to say no to that.

[dessarious]

Shots Fired Pt4

Beginning   Previous

“We’re sorry.” Sabine pulled back and made him look her in the eye. “I just wanted to keep you from thinking what other people said about you was true. I didn’t realize we were taking it so far.” Adrien could only stare at her for a moment. The last thing he expected was an apology.

“It’s okay.” Her look hardened.

“No, it’s not. I’m more upset that we didn’t notice how we were affecting you than anything else. I’m too used to the way Tom and Marinette catastrophize every little thing. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to look for more subtle signs.”

“We are not that bad.” Sabine gave Mari a level look and Cass just rolled her eyes.

“Remind me, who was it that spent three weeks holed up in their room because of one bad review?” Mari sputtered out a denial, but no one there believed her. Not even Jason, if his amused look was anything to go by. Adrien vividly remembered the time Sabine was talking about. It was before they’d taken down his father, so he had no idea she was Ladybug at the time, but he’d noticed Marinette missing from class and had stopped by to check on her as Chat. That was an eye-opening visit. She’d ranted about everything to do with her designing, so he’d found out about both her business and the fact that she was the one who made his favorite scarf.

That was the beginning of their real friendship outside the mask. Knowing what she had done, and hadn’t done, just because she wanted him to be happy made him realize how much he needed that in his life. It was awkward at first, since neither of them had any idea how to go about getting closer. It also took a few months after that for him to realize that she had a crush on him. Once they addressed that and settled into their sibling bond, they were inseparable. It was another proof of how amazing she was that when he said he didn’t have romantic feelings for her that she’d backed off entirely. The one time they’d talked about it afterward, before the reveal, had made him realize that the feelings she’d had for him were surface level, and exactly the same as his feelings for Ladybug. He’d apologized profusely to her very confused partner the next time they were on patrol. It was something they still laughed about.

“Adrien, I know you’ve been hesitant, but I really think we should find you a therapist.” Sabine’s soft voice pulled him back to the present, and he shot a panicked look at Mari. She was frowning in thought, but didn’t immediately shoot down the idea, which worried him. With all the secrets they had, seeing a therapist was an accident waiting to happen. Not to mention it would be hell to find one that wasn’t immediately prejudiced against him because of his father. Well, unless they looked outside the country, or possibly even Europe.

“I’m happy with the way things are.” The looks he was getting called him a liar, but he thought it was the truth. The people that mattered were there for him and really, how much use would therapy be if he was too stressed about letting things slip for it to be effective? No, things were fine the way they were.

“We’ll table this discussion for now, but I think it’s worth talking about more.” Mari’s words got Sabine to drop the topic, but it meant that she was going to try to talk him into it later. At least he had his arguments ready. Cass and Jason seemed to be having a silent discussion with their eyes that was honestly a bit creepy. When it ended, Jason slipped a business card into his hand without Mari or Sabine noticing. He looked at it when they moved to clean up. It was just a phone number with the name Harleen Quinzel. He raised a questioning eyebrow at Jason. Once the girls were out of earshot, he spoke softly.

“She won’t judge you for who your father was, or even anything you may have done in the past. Most of us have talked to her at least informally and it helps. She’s unorthodox, but she really does care.” Adrien felt himself choke up a bit at the kindness. It had been a long time since anyone outside his adopted family or company had treated him like a person.

“I’ll think about it. Thank you.” Jason just nodded. It was nice to have someone that didn’t push. “So, how long are you going to be in Paris?” The words came out without his consent, and Adrien winced when he realized how stupid he sounded.

“Plans aren’t firm, but as long as your sister keeps freezing out Timmy and Dick, I’d say I’ll be around a while. I’m certainly not in a rush to get back to Gotham.” Adrien hoped his smile didn’t change too much, as he felt giddy at the prospect of getting to know Jason better. He was so screwed. Jason got an evil smirk on his face. “You know what would really drive them and Bruce up the wall?”

“What?” He was impressed he answered. That expression was dangerous.

“If I hung out at your place and got them zero information on you.” Adrien actually felt his brain come to a screeching halt. Both because of the thought of them hanging out alone, and the fact that he didn’t technically have a ‘place’.

“Yeah, I’m kinda staying at the company at the moment, but don’t tell Mari or Sabine, please. They’ll insist I move in here or with Mari at her apartment, but I don’t want to put them in even more danger.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the last place I lived was set on fire and I they didn’t catch who did it, so I’d rather not risk staying somewhere without security. I also hired a private security firm to look after the Bakery and Mari’s apartment building because they aren’t taking the threat seriously. But Mari and her parents are under the impression that I rented an apartment under and assumed name to avoid issues.” Jason looked pissed. “It’s okay though. The basement used to be a staff break area, so there are actually showers and a kitchenette area. It’s more comfortable than it sounds.” The look he was getting said Jason thought he was an idiot.

“That’s not the point. The fact that you have to hide out because you’re being targeted is the problem. What are the police doing about it?” Adrien blinked at him. Did he really think the police cared about the safety of a terrorist’s son? Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face, because Jason started cursing. Some of it he didn’t understand. Must be American slang or something.

“I’ll get Babs to look into it.” Adrien raised an eyebrow at him. “She’s like family, but she’s not, and she’ll be happy to do this behind Bruce’s back if I ask her. Her dad’s a police commissioner, so she’s grown up around this stuff. She’ll know what to look for.” Adrien felt a tightness in his chest. It had been so long since someone new was actually willing to be nice to him, let alone go out of their way to help him. And, unlike his brothers, Jason didn’t seem to want to just get in Mari’s good graces, either.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“You’re right I don’t. I’m going to anyway.” Jason got out his phone and began tapping away. “In the meantime, you staying there could actually rile them up worse because I’ll be in the building they can’t get other eyes in and refuse to look for, let alone give them, anything to work with.” Adrien let out a laugh.

“You really enjoy messing with your family, don’t you?” Jason’s smile was a bit strained.

“It’s a habit more than anything at this point. But when I know they’re just being assholes for no real reason, it becomes a moral imperative. If I can still be said to have morals.” The last part was soft, and Adrien honestly wasn’t certain he meant to say it out loud. If his hearing wasn’t so advanced still, he wouldn’t have heard it, so Adrien decided to pretend he didn’t. Everyone deserved privacy.

“The vast majority of people wouldn’t think that they didn’t have a reason to have issues with me.” Granted the vast majority of people in Paris would be more than happy if he disappeared without a trace, but that was beside the point.

“I’ve never been one of the majority and they should know better than to judge someone by their blood relatives and rumors. If Demon Spawn gets a pass after actually trying to kill most of us, then everyone else should at least get the benefit of the doubt.” Adrien blinked at that, not quite sure what to make of it. Maybe whoever he was talking about had cooked something and given them all food poisoning? That would make sense. Jason scowled at his phone.

“Babs said that they didn’t even look into in properly because you own the property so no third parties were involved.”

“Oh, yeah. I had to buy a house because no one was willing to rent to me. Even then I had to do it under a shell cooperation because no one wanted to sell their property to me. I’d probably have to move out of France and legally change my name and possibly my appearance to get anything at this point.”

“What the fuck?” Jason seemed somewhere between pissed and confused.

“People really hate Gabriel, and I don’t blame them. He’s in jail and they need an outlet, so I get to be the lucky punching bag.”

“What the fuck?” Okay, now he was definitely pissed. “If it’s that bad, why don’t you leave? Change your name or do whatever you have to do?” That was a very good question. One he really didn’t have a good answer to.

“I tried giving Mari the company so I could. The employees almost revolted. They all saw exactly how my father treated me, not to mention the way he treated them. They were afraid of what would happen if someone else took over even though most of the changes I made - in house daycare, free meals, shorter workdays, the list goes on - came from Mari and her parents in the first place. And Mari flatly refused anyway. There’s too many people counting on me.” It seemed like there was always a need to stay. “I can’t just abandon them, no matter how much I wish I could. And then there’s Mari, Sabine, and Tom. I know it’s selfish, but I haven’t felt like part of a family since my Mom died and I… I just want to hold on to it for a while.”

Saying it out just made it worse. Him staying here put them all at risk, and he didn’t care enough about them to leave. No matter how he justified it by saying they knew the risks and wanted him here, he knew better. He was just as bad as Gabriel, wanting his own way and not caring who got hurt because of it. A hand on his knee broke him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to find Jason giving him a strange look.

“I get it. Everyone needs a home. Whether that’s a place, activity, or a person is different for everyone, but once you find it, it’s nearly impossible to let go without a fight. You shouldn’t beat yourself up over it. Not to mention your sister might actually kill you if you tried to leave at this point.” Adrien let out an amused huff. Jason wasn’t wrong. “If you do need an exit strategy for some reason, let me know. I’m very good at making things disappear.”

He said it with a smile and a wink, but Adrien got the feeling he was serious. He was far more touched by the offer than he should have been. But the thought of leaving everything behind and starting over was so tempting. Maybe once Mari was established in the company and the employees trusted her, he could become a silent partner and go find his own life. Someday.

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[jkstompers]

passing notes | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: a year of crushing and jungkook’s finally asked you out on a proper date. 

genre: classmates to lovers??!, established friendship, they go on a date <3, jk is so stressed out, !fancy restaurant warning!, jk is A GENTLEMAN!! but wbk, oc is a nerd but is BOLD AF!!

warnings: mature!! (18+!!), SMUT,...they make out, LOTS of built up tension is let out tonite!, fingering, praise kink, handjob, backseat action, semi-public sex?? very strong language, jk overuses the nickname ‘baby’

word count: 9k

author’s note: pt. 3 of seatmate!jk. WE’VE GOT SOME FILTH TODAY PPL!!!!!!! this is my first time releasing a piece of writing that has smut in it so pls!! let me know what u think!!! i’m open to criticism but i cry easily so… pls pls be nice (Ｔ▽Ｔ) LMAO!! i also completely made up the program for ocean scientists that oc talks about LMAO i just needed her to ramble for a bit hahahah

additional note: also pls imagine jungkook looking like this in class and then wearing this for their date. also if ur curious, this is what i imagined oc’s dress to look like :)

okay enjoy!! thank u ( ˘ ³˘)

it was the end of the semester and of course, the only time jungkook would be running late to class was when he was finally going to ask you out on a date. so far, everything seems to be going against the idea. his alarm didn’t go off on time, the shower took way too long to warm up, and his car was low on gas. now he’s speed walking, almost running, to lecture to make sure that his seat next to you isn’t taken. 

he wants to make sure this goes perfectly. he spent the past two weeks stressing over the plans. asking for recommendations for nice restaurants in the city in almost every group chat he was in. his friend (the one with parents as ceo’s, eunwoo), helped him and got him a reservation at this one five star restaurant that jungkook’s never been to. eunwoo told him that it was the prettiest place he’s ever been to, said it would be perfect for a first date. 

jungkook specifically remembers you telling him that you’ve never gone on an actual dinner date. ice cream dates, movie theater dates, and amusement park dates were what you were used to. there was nothing wrong with that, it’s just that you’ve never experienced a candlelit dinner at a restaurant, that’s it. jungkook just wanted to be the first one to experience it with you. 

so when his morning starts off this shitty, he wonders if his plans are falling apart. he tries to keep a good, positive mindset, but he’s already so nervous and the universe seems to be telling him: don’t do it, she’ll reject you, you’re gonna look stupid in front of her. 

meanwhile, you’re early this lecture. it was the last class of the semester and you were hoping that you could get a nice conversation with jungkook in before it started. the two of you have gotten a lot closer since you last hung out. the chain of events starting with you apologizing for being so embarrassing, 

[12:44 pm] you: jungkook!!! oh my god i am so sorry for last night 😭

[12:45 pm] you: i don’t take alcohol very well 😖

[12:50 pm] jungkook: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

[12:50 pm] jungkook: no need to apologize! are u feeling sick? hungover? 

[12:52 pm] you: omg no not really

[12:52 pm] you: ur a great drinking buddy, i owe u one 🥺

[12:53 pm] jungkook: it’s alright cutie

[12:54 pm] jungkook: just happy ur feeling okay :) 

[12:56 pm] you: let me make it up to u 😭 i’ll buy us lunch one of these days? 

[12:57 pm] jungkook: ah no can do cutie 

[12:57 pm] jungkook: have to buy u dinner first 

the thought of the conversation makes you smile. that one conversation starting the domino effect of the two of you talking almost everyday for the past two weeks. you couldn’t help but expect jungkook to at least be here, but if he didn’t wanna come, then he didn’t have to. 

you sat in your seat, patiently waiting for the one next to you to be filled by him. the hall was starting to fill now and class was about to start. you look around one last time to see that jungkook is still nowhere to be seen, and that a familiar brown-haired guy was beginning to walk up to you. 

“hello, ___! is this seat taken?” taehyung smiles brightly, you look down at the seat next to you. your bag saving the spot for jungkook. maybe he skipped this lecture, since it was practically for nothing anyway, you’ve already taken the final and there was no other material to learn, it was more so to wrap things up and see if anyone still needed to understand something. 

your brain comes to a conclusion. you remove your bag and say, “no, go ahead,” to taehyung with a small smile on your face, one that hides the disappointment riddling your mind. 

it’s about five minutes after the professor starts talking when jungkook finally walks in. he looks up to try and find you as he walks up the steps of the auditorium. his eyes land on you and taehyung, chatting amongst yourselves. he can’t help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy, that’s his seat. even though there were no assigned seats, the place next to you was always his, that’s just how it was, and seeing someone else sitting there, especially taehyung, makes jungkook’s green monster pop out. 

you feel a presence step behind you while you were talking to taehyung, and before you know it, jungkook is sitting in the seat next to taehyung. “oh! good morning, jungkook!” you’re smiling to him. he doesn’t grant you one of his regular vocal responses, rather he gives you a tight-lipped grin before he leans back into his chair and focuses on whatever the professor was saying. 

maybe he was jealous. witnessing you and taehyung having a wonderful conversation, one that makes you smile and laugh like he does. you didn’t even notice him when he came up the stairs, only greeting him when he sat down. no, he was definitely jealous. 

you’re stealing glances his way, pretending to be interested in whatever taehyung is talking about. he’s wearing the most boyfriend-est outfit in the world. a white long sleeve with grey sweatpants, his long hair tied up in a ponytail. you’re unconsciously biting your lip as you stare at him, he’s just so cool. he’s not even doing much other than looking straight forward. but this angle lets you see his sharp jawline and his side profile perfectly. 

you felt bad, one hundred percent. you should have told taehyung that the seat was taken, because now he was talking your ear off and you didn’t mind it, but you wanted someone else to be talking your ear off and it was the guy sitting next to him. 

when taehyung changes his focus to your professor talking about a summer he had in paris. you steal another glance at jungkook. you catch him staring at you, your eyes meet. he doesn’t keep the connection, cutting it off by moving his head and looking straight ahead. his jaw clenches, arms coming over and across his chest. he seems angry, you pick up on the energy now. an idea pops in your head to try and make him feel better. reaching into your bag to find one of your index cards, writing a message on it. 

feeling okay? 

you scoot your chair back a bit, pretending to stretch as you tap jungkook’s shoulder. he turns his head to you, eyebrows raised. you hand him the paper. he stares at first, eyes flickering between you and the paper. reluctantly, he takes it, unfolding his crossed arms to receive the note. you scoot back into your seat and lean into the table, lowering your chin onto the desk. 

jungkook tries to hide his smile as he reads your little note. how could he ever stay mad at you? it wasn’t your fault he was late. so he replies, his black ink has a stark contrast against your green highlighter. he can already feel his bad mood brightening. 

yeah, didn’t save me a seat? :( 

this time he folds the note, handing it to taehyung and telling him to pass it to you. “really? you’re passing notes? we’re in college, jeon.” taehyung snickers as he slides the paper towards you. 

you let a small laugh, reading the note. taehyung’s scolding continues as you write your response on the index card. you changed your green highlighter out with a blue pen. 

i came super early :( waited 20 mins for u </3 but i didn’t think u were coming so i let taehyung sit here 

you send it back and watch jungkook’s somewhat straight face contort into a smile. there it is, the smile that you know and love. 

jungkook on the other hand could cry. you came early. you waited for him. god, had he royally fucked this up. he makes his mind up now. 

i’m sorry :( let me make it up to u? can i take you out on a date tonight? 

check: ◯  yes ◯ no 

jungkook keeps the paper for a good minute, reading the note over and over again, thinking about how childish this way of asking is. but at the same time, jungkook knows that if he talks to you about it after class, he’ll gloss over the words and never ask you. letting the reservation and plans he made weeks ago render themselves useless. it was now or never. 

so he fully sends it, tapping your shoulder and giving it to you directly. you open the note and scan the words, sending him the sweetest look he’s ever received in his life. he thinks that would be a yes. he hopes. you write something onto the card and pass it back to him, your hand grazing his for a second. 

⚫ yes :) ♡ ◯ no 

the rest of the class passes pretty quickly. not that you were paying any attention. jungkook had emailed you a link to a game that the two of you could play, a weird version of snakes. jungkook kept cheating, you swore it, but in all honesty, you knew you couldn’t compete when it came to jungkook and his computer games. a clap from the professor breaks your attention from your screen, “alright, that was the last class of anatomy 101!” he then goes on a two minute long speech thanking the entire class for their great work this past year. he ends his ment with, “good luck and make good decisions! have a fun summer!” 

you take your time packing your things, a little too long for someone that just has a laptop to put into their bag. taehyung says goodbye to the both of you and leaves first, the seat in between you both empty. now it was just the two of you. a small blush creeps onto your cheeks. you were well past your high school crush phase, but jungkook makes you feel so shy again. 

you try to hide it by speaking first, “so, a date?” 

he sends you that award winning smile that makes you swoon. “yeah, did you change your mind?” 

you shake your head. “is it casual? fancy? want me to wear a dress again?” you tease, finally pushing your computer into your bag and standing. 

jungkook gulps. you looked so pretty that night in a dress. “fancy,” he answers, “you can wear a dress if you want, pantsuits are cool too— whatever you want.” he finishes packing as well, standing next to you as you both begin to walk down the stairs. 

“okay then,” you smile. “what time should i be ready?” 

“i’ll come and pick you up at seven, is that okay?” he replies, hand in his pockets. you both make your way out of the room and start to move towards the parking lot. 

“sounds good,” you nod, approaching your car. jungkook walks you to your door, his eyes focused on your sweet smile and your eyes. if jungkook didn’t know any better, he would have thought you were leaning closer towards him. a small laugh leaves your throat. “see you later, kookie.” 

he sends you a smile, the nickname tugging at his heartstrings. the realization hits him after you’ve already driven away and he’s sitting in the driver seat of his car. an embarrassing blush covers his face, he takes a deep breath and laughs to himself. finally. a year of crushing and he’s finally asked you on a proper date. 

jungkook is quite frankly, freaking the fuck out. he isn’t sure what to wear and his hair isn’t working with him. the long strands seemingly out to make his life a living hell when he tries to style it. one strand always looks out of place, or the way that it parts doesn’t sit right. he’s pacing his bathroom, debating if he should just shower again and take all the stupid fucking product out of his hair. 

he gives in after ten minutes of deliberation. a quick shower removing all the wax and gel from his hair. the ends of his hair dripping when he goes to check his phone, the time reading: 6:45. he was gonna be late to pick you up. now he’s full on panicking. he has no other choice then to skip the hair product all together and just let his hair dry and part on it’s own. he slides on his all black fancy outfit he had planned out just in case the first one didn’t work out. he steps out of his apartment after grabbing his car keys, wallet, and the flowers he bought earlier in the day for you. 

a friend of his works in a flower shop. jungkook remembers you saying  that you like all flowers and that you couldn’t choose if you had to. so his friend asked what you were like, trying to figure out a way to style the bouquet without knowing your favorites. jungkook said the general things; you’re sweet like an apple, probably sweeter, like candy. you’re so pretty, it’s blessing that he’s able to lay his eyes upon you. you’re smart, too smart for him to flirt stupidly like he always does, ‘cause you outsmart him and flirt with him back in a wittier way. you’re— that was enough information, his friend told him he was babbling again. jungkook only had to wait ten minutes for his friend to finish fixing up a beautiful bouquet for you. 

the bouquet is placed on the passenger seat as he starts his car, texting you when he realizes it’s almost five minutes until 7. 

[6:54 pm] jungkook: fuck 

[6:54 pm] jungkook: i’m gonna be a little late

[6:55 pm] jungkook: i swear i’m not standing u up

[6:55 pm] jungkook: ok i’m putting my phone down to drive to u now, sorry cutie!! 

[6:57 pm] you: ah okay! 

[6:57 pm] you: i was getting a little worried haha

[6:58 pm] you: see u in a bit <3

jungkook drives safely, but efficiently to your apartment. the drive only taking about five minutes because the stop lights were gracing him with green lights his entire way to you. he parks right in front, grabbing the flowers and hopping out of the car. when he knocks on your door, he starts to feel his nerves work against him. the adrenaline from rushing here gave him enough energy to hype himself up, but now as he’s standing here at your door, waiting for you to answer, his throat starts to dry and his hands start to sweat. 

the metal door slides open, revealing you. in your silk dress, draping over your body in the most flattering way. the neckline deliciously hangs down to reveal your cleavage ever so slightly and the slit on the dress, displaying your thigh teasingly. jungkook is speechless at his first glance at you. his eyebrows raise and his mouth drops open, catching himself drooling once you step out from your apartment. 

“h— hi, you look— wow,” he stumbles over his words, taking a step back to admire you once again. “you’re fucking stunning.”  

you brush your hair back behind your ear, your hand covering the blush covering your cheeks. “thank you, you look very handsome, jungkook.” you reach out and play with his black tie. he looks down when you do, remembering that he was holding a bouquet of flowers for you. 

he holds them out, “these are for you.” like a kid giving his crush a dandelion he picked from the grass. 

“these are gorgeous, jungkook! thank you.” you look up to him with your signature sweet eyes, the ones that never fail to make him melt. “just give me one sec, i’ll put these down and then we can go?” you ask, holding onto the bouquet and waiting for him to respond. a quick nod is all you need to open your door and place them in the fridge. you come out a few seconds later, locking your door and standing by jungkook again. 

“that was fast,” he comments. he holds his arm out for you to hold, which you gratefully take. 

“i just put them in the fridge, my grandma showed me the trick, it helps them live a little longer,” you explain. the two of you walking out to his parked car. he never lets your hand touch the handle, always opening the door for you. 

“when they die, i’ll just buy you new ones.” closing the door for you and making his way to the drivers seat. 

you scrunch your nose. when he comes back and joins you in the car, you voice your worry. “it’s kind of a waste, don’t you think?” 

he shakes his head, “if it’s for you, nothing’s a waste.” 

jungkook was a professional with his words. always rendering you speechless. 

with that he starts the car and begins driving into the busier part of seoul. he makes his way into the restaurants parking garage, the building looks to be about five stories. the architecture itself looks expensive, you wonder where jungkook is taking you tonight. he parks the car, turning off the engine, and moving to open the door for you. he takes your hand and you hold onto your dress, fixing it once you get out of the car. god, you’re so pretty. he was so nervous. 

“ready, my lady?” he smiles, his arm out for you to hold. 

it makes you laugh, a snort almost. “i’ve never seen you so proper, mr. jeon.” 

“only for you,” he winks. your heels click against the concrete floor as he leads the two of you into the building. the high ceilings and multiple chandeliers are what greet you first, the brightness of the place giving the sun something to rival. jungkook brings you over to the waiting area, telling you to wait for a minute as he checks you guys in. 

this was crazy to say the least. the last time you went on a date, it was to the movie theaters. you’ve never been in a place like this; a doorman greeting every guest as they walk in, checking in to eat, multi-story, etc. the more you look around, the cooler it is. “let’s go?” jungkook’s voice makes you turn your head. you stand, taking his hand. 

the two of you follow a man wearing a black and white suit, with a long tail jacket. he brings you to the elevators, holding the doors open for you both. you step in and he presses the fifth button, which was the top floor. you squeeze jungkook’s hand. he repeats the action, looking to you and silently asking if you were okay with the look in his eyes and the raise of his eyebrows. you nod, a smile on your face. 

with that the elevator doors open, the metal doors sliding apart to reveal a private terrace. only a couple tables on the entire floor. a few people sitting down and enjoying their dinners. beautiful greenery surrounding the perimeter, the night sky only making it prettier. your mouth is left agape, you’re stuck in the elevator, speechless. jungkook gently tugs you forward, following the suit man to the table. 

jungkook pulls your chair out for you. you could cry at the chivalry. you sit and he pushes the chair in, jungkook follows soon, sitting in the chair across from you. the man hands the two of you the menu and moves away from the table, standing back near to the elevator, waiting until you are both ready to order. 

“this is fucking crazy,” you whisper-shout. the terrace was lit by these bright fairy lights that were hidden in the plants and were above the tables as well. it looked like little fairies and fire flies were in the air, roaming around. 

“i know right!” jungkook looked as surprised as you were. “i asked my friends for some help and holy shit!” 

“they know you’re on a date with me right now?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. 

to this he furrows his eyebrows, “of course they do, i talk about you all the time—”but he stops himself from exposing himself any further. you can’t help but giggle. “i mean, i asked them to help me make this special, and here we are.” 

you swoon. he’s so sweet for planning all of this out and wanting to make you feel special. the two of you look through the menu, jungkook warns you not to look at the prices, telling you to get whatever you want because the price doesn’t matter. but of course, your eyes stray to the numbers, the meals costing a pretty penny for a simple spaghetti plate, the cheapest thing on there. you were craving pasta anyway, you didn’t mind. the two of you order and wait for the food to arrive. 

the city of seoul was just below you, not too high but high enough to turn people into smaller figures of themselves. the night lights look gorgeous from up here. the warm summer night only complimenting the gorgeous atmosphere. 

“the view is so pretty,” you gaze out into the city. the pretty colors from all the lights of the different stores and restaurants complementing each other so beautifully. 

jungkook was in awe, he knows that the city below you is gorgeous, but he can’t seem to get his eyes off of you. your chin resting in the palm of your hand as your eyes search through the streets. “yeah…” he agrees, “very beautiful.” he smiles, only looking at you. 

the food comes and you both dig in. the two of you enjoy some conversation with each other as you eat. the topic of growing up comes up, both of you explaining the occupations you wanted, and you said something that sparked curiosity in jungkook. “your childhood dream was to live in california?” he smiles, chewing on his steak. most of the time kids dream about going to the moon or finding atlantis, but you wanted to go to america? 

you nod, “sounds funny right? when i was a teen, i watched a lot of 90210.” 

“is that all though? you only wanted to go because of a tv show?” he asks. there’s something you’re hiding, and jungkook can see it in the way that you hide your smile. 

at first, you hesitate, but you open your mouth to speak, “well— there is— no, it’s embarrassing.” you shake your head, changing your mind and reverting your eyes down. staring at the plate of pasta in front of you. guys you talked to didn’t wanna hear about it, they thought what you were into was boring, embarrassing almost. a part of you feared that jungkook would feel the same. 

you feel his hand on your chin, tilting your head up. “i wanna hear about it.” his face telling you the truth, the sincerity in his eyes as he patiently waits for you to explain. 

“there’s this science program in california, they explore new ideas for researching the ocean, like trying to see what lurks in the deep blue, helping fix the rising oceans, everything-- oh my god, and they like go on field trips to different countries to see the coastlines and historical sites—” you cut yourself off when you realize that you’re talking at the speed of light. “i’m rambling.” you were terrified to see his reaction. 

but when your eyes finally meet jungkook’s, they’re full of light. and his smile is so big. “dude, that’s so dope!” he grins, “i didn’t know you were so into the ocean!” 

it was the bare minimum, being nice, but that was hard to find when it came to the majority of the male species. obviously, jungkook is above average, he only proves that the more time you spend with him. 

“oh, i love it! my parents would bring me to the beach and i would cry every time we would have to leave, aquariums too, and the fish section in the pet stores.” you gush, leaning into the table to tell jungkook more. he leans into his hand, resting his cheek against his fist as he listens to you spill your knowledge and love. 

he notes that the next date should be at the beach or an aquarium. it was a great time for him to learn this, especially since it was summer. the weather in favor of the cold ocean waves. jungkook swears he can listen to you talk until the end of time. your sweet voice can be the narration to his life, he’d never get sick of it. 

the food on both of your plates had been cleared, the conversation sizzling into a comfortable silence before the man came back to give you the bill. jungkook doesn’t let you see it, instead just sticking his card in the black folder thing, and giving it back to the fancy suit man. it wasn’t long before he came back, handing jungkook back his card and giving the both of you a lollipop with gold flakes encased inside. 

you gasp at the piece of candy, now that was ridiculous. you weren’t one to reject a lollipop though, gratefully taking the candy and popping it into your mouth. jungkook does the same. it tastes of blueberry. at this point he stands up, moving in front of you and holding his hand out to you. “let’s look around? i heard they have a cool museum on the second floor.” 

you take his hand, “i love museums!” the two of you make your way to the elevator, the man (he never told you his name) kept the door open for you both. he presses the second floor button when jungkook asks him for the museum. the elevator landing on the second floor, the doors slide open to show a completely empty art hall. this place shocking you every chance it gets. you didn’t think it could get better, but it did. 

when the two of you exit the elevator, the man leaves you to it, taking the elevator down and leaving you alone. your eyes scan the place, huge paintings on the walls, small paintings in collages, some sculptures on the floor, it felt like a pop-up museum. you both make your way down the enormous hallway, both sides of the room’s wall displaying works of art. you stop at one specific painting, the familiar work has you spewing random facts. “these are the lovers! i had to analyze this once,” you speak. the art displaying a couple kissing, both of their heads covered by a white sheet. “the real one is in australia, i think.” you laugh, tapping the lollipop against your lips. 

jungkook listens intently, but he doesn’t pay attention to the painting on the wall. everytime he does, his eyes always revert to you. the art doesn’t stand a chance against you in his book. you, yourself, were a piece of art, one that was rare in this world, one of a kind. 

he can’t seem to resist. taking your hand and raising it over your head, the way that they do in ballroom dancing. if a twirl was what he wanted, then so he got it. “beautiful,” he compliments, pulling you in close for a hug. the two of you swaying in the middle of the hall of this stupidly expensive restaurant. 

you look up to him, making full eye contact as the two of you lean on one foot to the other. probably looking like a lovesick couple, getting lost in the moment. which, you were. your eyes flicker from his eyes down to his lips, he seems to do the same thing. his hand moves to caress your face, the swaying ceased. now the two of you are centimeters apart, noses brushing against each other. if jungkook doesn’t kiss you now, he thinks he’ll combust. so when he feels you pushing forward, he does the same, meeting you in the middle. your lips connect. the kiss almost identical to the painting in front of you. 

jungkook swears he felt himself levitating. your lips are sweet, the blueberry flavor of the lollipop lingering on them. he’s had his fair share of kisses in his life. makeouts, pecks, cheek kisses, all types of kisses. but something about this one tells him that he’s in for it. he’ll never be able to get enough now that he’s gotten a taste. 

neither of you want to take it too far; swallowing each other's faces in a distinguished, five star restaurant’s museum didn’t seem very proper. so the two of you make your way out of the building, thanking everyone at the front desk, especially the man that helped you out today, and walking into the parking garage where jungkook’s car was. 

when you get to his car, he moves to open the passenger door for you but you stop him with a hand on his arm. you reach to open the back door handle and his eyes almost bulge out. everyone knows what happens in the backseat, and jungkook did not prepare himself for something like this. 

you look up at him with the most innocent eyes, but there’s something devious hidden in your smile when you ask, “do you wanna talk for a bit longer? in the backseat? it’s more comfortable than sitting in the front.” 

jungkook never took you for someone this bold. it’s either you didn’t know the meaning of the backseat (which was totally fine) or you knew very well, and had plans to devour jungkook (which was also totally fine).

he chickens out, his hands starting to sweat. “do you want to just go for a little walk or something?” it’s not like jungkook didn’t want anything to happen, it’s that he did. if he starts, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever recover from it. he walks a tightrope around you when it comes to his self control. one wrong move, and he’s terrified that he’ll fuck everything up. 

“oh, it’s just my feet kinda hurt from these heels.” you pout, lifting you foot up to show him the almost stiletto heel. 

his eyes widen. why didn’t he think of that? “oh— oh shit, i didn’t even— yeah, let’s sit.” he tugs on the door, letting you slide into the back seat. he follows, leaving a good amount of space between you both to make sure that there was nothing too suspicious going on. you hope your bold moves hide your nervousness, despite your confidence, jungkook’s unsure looks make you want to curl up into a ball. did he not want this? 

the air was different now. in the restaurant the two of you had been so carefree, slow dancing in the museum, and landing a sweet kiss on each other’s lips. but now, an uncomfortable silence tears at the two of you. your hesitance makes you speak, trying to see if a conversation would ease the tension in the air. “i had a lot of fun tonight, kookie, thank you.” 

it seems to comfort jungkook, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. with a small smile on his face he replies, “me too, i was really nervous you wouldn’t like the food.” 

“oh it was good! i’ll eat anything really, it’s just—“

“you didn’t like the place? was it too much—“

“no, jungkook, oh my god— i loved it, it was just really expensive, i still feel really bad about you paying for all of it,” you look to him seriously. “let me give you at least my half?” 

he shakes his head, “i asked you out on this date, it means i pay, don’t worry about the price.” 

you roll your eyes playfully, “big spender huh?”

a pretty laugh escapes his lips. “hard worker too.” 

to this you smile, you stare at his impossibly-perfect face, noticing a stray eyelash on his cheek. you see a chance to strike and you take it immediately. you lean forward to swipe it off. jungkook almost leans into your touch. he’s so terrified that he’ll embarrass himself right now, so he’s been holding back tremendously. but the way you pick the eyelash off and place it on your thumb with a smile on your face, it eases most of the tension in his chest. 

“make a wish!” you hold your thumb up to his lips. his eyes cross to look at the piece of hair on your finger, but nevertheless he obliged. shutting his eyes tight, making a wish, and blowing the eyelash off of your thumb. 

you let out a small cheer before you ask him, “what’d you wish for?” 

“if i told you then my wish wouldn’t come true, right?” he boops your nose. suddenly, jungkook doesn’t feel so nervous. his nerves calming at the feeling of your soft hands against his face. you make him so nervous, but at the same time you make him so comfortable and make him want to be himself. it seems as though the two of you were staring at each other for a while. jungkook was thinking about how much he likes you, the same ideas run through your mind. the thoughts make you wish for something more. 

“can i kiss you again, kookie?” 

he stares at you, weighing his options. if he kisses you now, then he has to strategically only give you a few kisses, he absolutely cannot make out with you, or else, jungkook will succumb to his desires.

but he takes a little too long to respond. the both of you overthinking the fuck out of the situation. it makes you draw back. “it’s okay if you don’t want—“ 

“no, no, please, kiss me,” he brings you back, moving closer to you. licking his lips in anticipation as you slowly push forward, closing the gap between you both. the kiss is so sweet, like the one in the museum. jungkook can still taste the blueberry lingering on your lips. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of kissing you. 

you pull away first. your eyes scanning his face to see any expression of regret. there’s none. his hand moves to the side of your face, caressing your face and bringing you to him once again to meet your lips. he can’t get enough. “tell me what you wished for, please,” you speak against his lips. 

he smiles into the kiss. he wasn’t going to tell you, but since you were asking so nicely, he gives you a kiss on the cheek when he answers, “i wished for a second date.” 

“oh, didn’t you know?” you kiss both of his cheeks before speaking again, “i grant wishes,” with wink.

“fuck, you’re so cute,” he thinks out loud, it makes you blush. pink cheeks out for show and jungkook thinks you look even cuter. he dives in for one more kiss, telling himself this will be the last one, but when you make sweet noises against his lips, it has him wanting more. hands moving down to your waist, pulling you in and letting you climb onto his lap. he pulls away first, trying to get a hold of himself. “i uh— actually, didn’t plan for this to happen,“ he mumbles against your skin, tripping over his words. 

you look down, arms wrapped around his neck. “hm? what did you plan?” 

“we were supposed to kiss on the next date i take you on and i didn’t think— we’re just ahead of schedule, that’s all.” jungkook tries to explain that he didn’t want to rush it, god no. he wanted to take his time, make sure that you didn’t feel pressured to do anything. but now, it seems like you’re taking the wheel and jungkook doesn’t mind it one bit.

“oh so you had like a real plan? like times and everything?” the thought of it makes you laugh, and the way that jungkook flushes makes you want to pinch his cheeks. 

he pouts when you giggle, “don’t laugh, i just really, really wanted to do it right, you’re just so amazing and i didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

you smile at his concern. the fact that you have the uni heartthrob planning dates in his head down to the details and wanting to be sure he does it right makes your head spin. you hope jungkook doesn’t notice the way that your heart is beating three times the normal rate when you go to kiss him again. the only sounds in the car are labored breaths and your lips smacking together. it doesn’t take long before you’re grinding into him. his growing bulge rubbing against your soaking core. a groan leaving him when you grind particularly harder, his hands moving to your ass to grip it. you melt in his arms, small whimpers leaving your throat as jungkook drinks them up

you pull away from his lips, giving his cheeks attention then leaving a trail of kisses as you make your way to his ear. one final kiss is planted below his earlobe before you whisper, “am i ruining your plans, kookie?” 

jungkook tries his best to conceal his groan, tries his best to ignore his incredibly hard dick in his jeans, but you’re so pretty and you’re on top of him, kissing him. it feels like a dream to jungkook. it is quite literally a dream come true. 

he was already playing with fire, your body a flame in the cold, he moves closer and closer until he burns. “fuck plans,” he breathes. a hand comes back to caress your face once again. filthy thoughts flooding his brain. he wonders what being in between your legs is like, what you sound like when you cum. he wants to make you cry and beg for his cock. but he holds himself back, knowing that you’ll have time to try everything out, if you wanted of course. he leans the both of you forward, his large hands splayed on your back to secure you on his lap. your lips find each other once more. “can i touch you?” he asks so sweetly, a hidden poison weaving through that you can slightly hear through the deep rumble of his voice. 

you’ve never wanted anything more. “please,” you nod. your lips chasing his when he pulls further away. 

jungkook smiles at the action. “lay on my lap, baby.” he instructs, tapping your thigh. the nickname rolling off his tongue, his voice seemingly dropping an entire octave. you raise your leg and move it over to sit on his lap, sideways. your back against the car door and his right hand rubbing your thighs ever so gently. 

“like this?” you ask, looking to him for reassurance. he looks to you with eyes that you’ve never seen, lusted and dark. 

“mhm, perfect,” he nods. “good girl.” the praise goes straight to your belly, your panties flooding from how much you want him. his hands move slowly down your inner thighs as he goes in to kiss you again. 

you’re absentmindedly spreading your legs, making room for him. he smirks against your lips when he realizes. he knows what you want, so his fingers move to your panties, lightly putting pressure over your clothed bud. you whimper at the feeling, biting his lip in the process. he moans in response, putting a little more pressure against your bundle of nerves. 

“jungkook,” you whine, pulling away from his lips, “please.” 

“please what, baby?” he kisses your cheek, “tell me what you want.”  

“please touch me, please.” you beg, making eye contact with him. jungkook’s dick twitches at the sound of your begging. he wanted to string you along a little longer, but you’re being so good. 

“since you asked so nicely, baby,” he obliges. bunching your dress up around your waist and noticing the pretty black lace underwear you were wearing, “for me?” he asks. you nod, your teeth taking in your bottom lip. he groans at the thought, you getting ready and picking out these cute, risque panties out just for him. it’s just too bad they’re gonna be on the floor on his car. he’s gonna need to ask for a rain check on admiring you and your cute underwear later.  

you lift your hips to help him, underwear coming off to reveal your soaking pussy. “oh, fuck,” jungkook murmurs at the sight of it. “you’re so wet baby.” he almost starts drooling, he can’t wait to taste you, but he’s still hesitant, only wanting to do what you want to. next time, he can eat you out. right now, he’ll admire the delicious sight and make you cum on his fingers. 

your eyes travel to the window directly in front of you, suddenly feeling insecure. thighs closing, thinking about how someone could look in and see. “what about the windows—“ 

“they’re tinted, no one can see from the outside in, i promise.” he reassures, giving you another sweet kiss on the cheek before asking, “do you still want to do this? we can stop now.” he’s so lovely, his concern and change in demeanor only making you want it more, knowing that he wouldn’t want to push you to do something you were uncomfortable with. sweet was sexy on jungkook. you never thought there would be a day that jeon jungkook fingers you in a parking lot of a five star restaurant, but here you are. and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

so you shake your head, taking his hand, and placing it back in between your legs. “please.” 

“anything for you.” he whispers in your ear before running his middle finger up your slit, collecting your wetness, and spreading it around your clit. he continues making tight circles on your clit, the sensation drives you crazy. you lean your head back against the window, moaning out. it was almost humiliating how reactive you were, you hadn’t indulged in this kind of intimacy in a while, almost a year to be specific. 

it wasn’t helping that jungkook was a fucking pro. the right amount of pressure and the placement of his digits against you has you dripping onto his nice, dress pants. you hoped nobody else was in the parking garage, else they would hear your cries of jungkook’s name. “more, kookie, more— fuck.” 

“more baby?” he questions, the sound of your moans going straight to his already hard dick. he thinks he could cum just to the sound of your voice. he’s one hundred percent fucked when it comes to you. he dips his middle finger into your hole, you gasp in reaction. “like that? hmm? ” 

jungkook knew was he was doing, he had you spread wide in the backseat of his car, already on the verge on an orgasm. he had a few years of experience on his belt, a ‘retired fuck boy’ he was, but he’s never wanted to please somebody more than he does right now with you. you just looked so pretty like this, so eager and begging for more. 

he adds his ring finger now, his thumb against your clit. “oh, god—“ you mutter, the feeling of his fingers and his thumb on your clit is too good. his fingers fucking you better than anyone else’s dick ever has. you found yourself bucking your hips against his fingers. “kookie, kiss me, please,” you look up to him with the eyes he can never fucking deny. so he kisses you, drinking up your moans as you fuck yourself up onto his fingers. 

“i didn’t know you were such a dirty girl,” he murmurs against your lips. your walls clenching around him, “letting me touch you like this in the backseat of my car?” his usual sweet demeanor now contorting into this cocky guy with an ego. it makes you even wetter. the squelch of your pussy every time his fingers push in is loud, the sound is music to jungkook’s ears. 

“only— only for you, jungkook,” you whimper.  you feel a familiar knot in your stomach tighten. he looked so hot like this. eager to please. his bottom lip caught in his teeth and a strand of his long hair dangling in front of his eyes. 

“good girl, all mine,” he kisses your neck. it may seem just like something you say during sex, but jungkook wanted it to be true. wanted you and only you. all to himself. he makes his way to a sweet spot, the feeling makes you tilt your head, giving him more access to kiss and suck along the sensitive skin. the discomfort of your back against the hard door was the last of your worries. your orgasm creeping closer and closer, juices leaking all overs his fingers. “so wet baby,” he growls, “i know i could just slide in, fuck you so good.” 

“p-please, i want it.” the thought of jungkook fucking you senseless, oh, you’d go crazy. begging wasn’t something you did when it came to sex, most of the time it was quiet, moans and breaths were the only things that you’d hear, no dirty words or praises. it was a good change, you never thought that you’d be so into being talked through it. 

he smiles at your eagerness, “patience baby, gotta take you on another date, yeah?” kissing your pursed lips. always so sweet and lovely. 

you feel his fingers push a little deeper, curling to find that sweet spot inside of you. your reaction does something to him, makes him hit the exact same spot, over and over again, in a slow, torturous beat just so he can draw those delicious gasps and moans out of you. jungkook feels close. he’s never felt like this before, so wound up. he ignores it, pushing it to the back of his head to focus on helping you reach your climax. 

lucky for jungkook, he didn’t have to wait very long. his fingers were longer and a thicker than yours, his efforts making you get there faster than you ever could. the consistent deep strokes of his fingers make the warning signals go off in your head. you speak a verbal warning before, “fuck, i’m gonna cum,” your voice pitches a little higher than usual. 

“gonna cum all over my fingers, baby?” he gives you one last sloppy kiss before you’re moaning out and coming onto his fingers, eyes screwed shut as your walls convulse rapidly as his fingers fuck you through your orgasm. “fuck, you’re so hot, ___.” 

you feel a smile break on your face. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you wink, still trying to catch your breath. a laugh slips from his mouth, small smirk on his mouth to match. he slips his fingers out, your body twitching at the over stimulation. 

 “i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes. inspecting his fingers, your pale almost-white cum coating the digits. he brings them to his mouth, sucking on your sweet sap. you’ve never seen anything hotter in your life. “sweet, just like you,” he smirks. you shrink in his stare, hiding your blush. like you totally didn’t just cum on his fingers. 

you’re distracted by the feeling of something hard resting under your thigh, it’s then that you realize, “what about—“ you start but jungkook cuts you off quick. 

“no, no, it’s okay, it’ll go away soon.” he shakes his head, but you furrow your eyebrows. 

you pull on his black tie, making him lean forward and make eye contact with you “can i?” you ask, so sweetly. 

he stares at you with the most sexed eyes you’ve ever witnessed. “you’re driving me crazy.” 

“you’re always so sweet to me, jungkook,” you kiss his cheek. readjusting yourself in his lap, straddling him once more. “took me on this amazing dinner, always treating me like a princess.” your lips travel down from his cheeks to his jawline, then to his neck. he shudders at the feeling of your lips against his sensitive skin. your hands move from around his neck to travel further down, to the latch of his belt. his breath hitches. “let me return the favor, kookie.”

“i—“ he laughs, the embarrassment evident in the pink tint on his face. “i won’t last very long.” 

you didn’t mind, just assuring him with a sweet kiss on the cheek before you start removing his belt. jungkook leans his head back on the headrest, his neck exposed for you to kiss and suck. you unbutton and unzip, pulling his pants and his boxers down at the same time. his size makes your eyes bulge. he was huge. your mouth waters at the sight. 

“you’re so big, kook.” you egg him on, fueling his ego because he just looked so hot. your hand moves to hold him at the base, he lets out a shaky breath when your soft skin meets his. jungkook’s head is in the clouds, he could cum right now if he let go, but he’s holds himself back, not wanting to look like a fool in front of you. your hand moves up his dick, your thumb collecting the precum dripping from his hole, your thumb running over his slit as he groans. 

his hips buck up, “shit, baby.” he just sounds so good. you could just lick him up. you collect some saliva in your mouth, letting it drip from your mouth onto his dick to lube your hand. he groans at the sight, “you’re so filthy, baby, holy shit.” 

you smirk at the admission, the spit making it so easy for your hand to glide against his cock. the feeling makes him throw his head back again. his chest rising and falling.  the picture of him with his eyes screwed shut in pleasure and his mouth agape makes your lower belly light up once more, you clench around nothing. leaning in as you pump his cock to whisper in his ear, “wanna fuck me so bad? have me crying on your cock? you want that, don’t you, kookie?” 

jungkook twitches at your words. that’s exactly what he wants. was he that easy to read? was that what you wanted too? the thought of it makes him want to explode, “oh— god, ffuck— fuck,” he sputters. his hand coming up to hover above his head, your hand still pumping as the spurts of his cum shoot out. you smile at the action, knowing he didn’t wanna fuck up your dress. instead just making a mess of him and his hand. he takes deep breaths before speaking, “there’s a little box of tissues in the center console, could you hand it to me, baby?” 

you lean back, opening the console and reaching for the small box that sits in the center. before you give it to him, your eyes flicker to the sticky mess all over jungkook’s hand and groin. a sudden urge to lick takes you over, holding jungkook’s hand and bringing it up to your mouth. you lick the dripping cum from the palm of his hand as he watches, maintaining eye contact the entire time. 

jungkook shivers, a smile creeping on his face, “you— you’re evil.” the remark makes you laugh. 

“sorry, just wanted to help clean up.” you smile, swallowing the cum you collected on your tongue. 

“yeah, yeah, you’re not the sweet girl i thought you were,” jungkook quirks a brow. 

you roll your eyes playfully, “you don’t like it?” 

“nope, i love it, you’re perfect.” jungkook wipes off the remaining mess from his lap and his hand. you help him clean up tissues and he picks up your panties that were discarded on the floor. the two of you fix yourselves before stepping out of the back seat, jungkook opens the passenger door for you before he goes to a trashcan and throws away the soiled tissues. 

he joins you back in the car, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. you were rambling about how happy you were that no one was around and how there were no security cameras in the parking garage. jungkook blabbers too, telling you about how embarrassed he is that he barely lasted a few minutes. before the two of you knew it, his car parked in front of your apartment complex. 

he stands outside of your front door, leaning against the doorframe. all dreamy and not like he just made you cum in the backseat of his car. “text me before you sleep?” he smiles. 

you nod, “of course,” reflecting the same smile. you wave before closing your door. the date being more than you ever expected. there was no way jungkook was real. he had to be a figment of your imagination, he was the absolute dream guy. 

you lay in bed, staring at the stars on your ceiling. a blush creeping up to your cheeks once more when you think about the events that took place tonight. 

[11:02 pm] you: thank you for tonight, jungkook 

[11:02 pm] you: it was magical <3 

[11:03 pm] jungkook: no problem cutie, i had an amazing time with you

[11:04 pm] jungkook: feeling okay? 

[11:06 pm] you: i’m great!!! more than okay

[11:07 pm] jungkook: 😂

[11:07 pm] jungkook: i’m glad cutie

[11:08 pm] you: lunch on me next time? now that you’ve taken me for dinner :) 

[11:08 pm] jungkook: sure, i’m down :) 

[11:09 pm] you: i’m rlly tired kookie 

[11:10 pm] you: gonna head to sleep now 

[11:10 pm] jungkook: alright cutie 

[11:11 pm] jungkook: sweet dreams! 

｡ﾟ(ﾟ^Ｏ^ﾟ)ﾟ｡ tag list: @giadalin @ggukkieland

[jenomark]

Nct / wayv reaction when you suddenly kiss them when you're drunk 🙏

Taeil: You were both drunk but acted like the alcohol didn't affect you. Sitting next to Taeil, you arm hair brushing against his, you felt blissful. "Do you want to play a game?" he asked, his glossy eyes on yours. Hanging out with him on Friday nights, just drinking wine and sitting at his kitchen table, was fun without the random card games. You just liked being in his presence, feeling the full effect of your feelings for him. Feeling fantastic, you took his hand in yours and brought it to your lips. You kissed his soft skin and said," No, we could just talk." The realization of what you had done slowly sunk in but, like everything else, Taeil pretended it didn't happened.

Johnny: "You're drunk." he said, grinning. You were seconds away from stamping your foot on the floor and claiming that you had hardly had much to drink, when your equilibrium was thrown off, and you swayed in place. "See," he said, pointing. "You should get some rest." Johnny was openly smirking and teasing you, which lit a fire underneath you that not even his handsome face could put out. You went into the corner beside the cabinets, brought out a tiny step stool and placed it in front of him. From there, you climbed onto it, your eyes level with his, and you kissed his lips. " Oh, I might be a little drunk, too." Johnny breathed, his sweet breath blowing back into your face.

Taeyong: He was bundled up head-to-toe, a beanie on his head, and a scarf wrapped around his neck several times. Everything on him was cold, except for his hand, which was nesting firmly in yours. You walked on, the twinkling lights of the city lulling you both into a sense of comfort. Being with Taeyong, especially like this, made long, cold nights more bearable. "Are you still tipsy?" he asked, stopping. In your mind, you saw the wine you had both shared at dinner, could picture it sitting in the bottom of your empty stomach. You nodded, facing him with an affectionate smile on your face. The warmth of the alcohol spread across his cheeks, or, maybe, it was from the biting wind. "You have something on your face." you said. Instinctively, Taeyong's hands reached up to touch his face, but your lips beat him to it. When you pulled away, shy Taeyong was staring back at you. "You're so cute." he said.

Yuta: In the quiet of his room, the thrum of the alcohol pumping through your veins was deafening. Yuta was watching you with a curious look, his eyes seeming to ask if you were brave enough. It was strange to know that you had his approval for the kiss before you had went through with it, and stranger still, that Yuta looked terrified. You went slow, kissing up along his bare arm, his warm skin flushing pink as you went. He was waiting patiently for you to find his lips, for you to snake your way up his smooth shoulder and kiss him like he'd never been kissed before. "I don't think I can wait anymore." he whispered. So, you closed the gap and found his lips earlier than you wanted, kissing him with so much passion that you could feel it in your toes. Though expected, Yuta gave a small shake, like there was an electric current running through his body.

Kun: "And press this key." Kun said. Even if you wanted to press it on your own, Kun's hand was on top of yours, and he was guiding you along. In his alcoholic forgetfulness, he seemed not to notice. You let him guide you, your fingertips touching the keys on his keyboard so lightly that you wondered if you were even touching them at all. Kun looked at your face, searching for the excitement he wished to find there. "Doesn't it sound beautiful?" he asked, adding, as if you didn't understand, "The music." You nodded, the expression on your face as clear as day: you were head over heels in love with him. You didn't remove your hand from underneath his, you just leaned in to kiss him, catching him by complete surprise. Before you could even breathe, Kun cupped your face and kept kissing you.

Doyoung: In your drunken mind, everything made sense. You loathed Doyoung, so the only thing left to do, was to kiss him. That will show him, you thought. You marched across the party, ignoring the warning signs from Taeyong in the corner, and you planted yourself firmly in front of Doyoung. He was nursing his own drink and looking at you with the contempt you felt. You couldn't remember what the old saying was, was it that revenge is best served cold? Hot? You had no idea. "What do you want?" Doyoung asked, trying his best to puff out his chest and appear confident. You started to speak but found out that you had nothing to say other than, "I want you." You kissed Doyoung then, your mouth sloppily gluing itself to his. Rather than push you away, Doyoung kissed you back, leading to a very steamy make-out in the middle of the room.

Ten: You came in from a night out with your friends, as drunk as can be, and one thing on your mind. As you tried kissing Ten, he moved away from you. "Not while you're drunk." he said. "Come on, let me tuck you into bed." You were tired, however, Ten had never looked sexier. You wanted to kiss him, to hold him and make love to him. Sensing that you were going to try and kiss him again, he jumped over the back of the couch. Your shoulders fell. "Don't you want to kiss me?" you asked. Ten stood his ground from a few feet away and said, "I always want to kiss you, but not when you can't consent." You put your hand on your hips, even your drunk mind understanding that it wasn't necessarily right. Still, you pouted. "But I wanted a kiss goodnight." From across the room, Ten kissed his fingers and sent the flying kiss in your direction, all the love on his face very sincere.

Jaehyun: Kissing him felt so good that you didn't want to stop. The taste of him was so warm and inviting, and every nerve in your body wanted to feel it everywhere. It was Jaehyun who broke the kiss, his conscious making it clear that he couldn't allow it to go further. You thought he would be angry that you went in for the kill, but he was smiling so brilliantly that you went in for another kiss. Jaehyun placed his finger against your lips before you could and said, "How about we get you home safely, so that you can sleep this off?" It was simple, but effective. Rather than going in for another kiss, you took the hand that Jaehyun held out to you, and let him lead you back where you lived, the taste of him still on your lips.

WinWin: You stared longingly at the empty bottles of wine on the table, and then at WinWin texting on his phone. "I should probably head off to sleep." you said, your body perking up when your roommate WinWin looked in your direction. He looked so pretty in the soft light, his features most likely enhanced by the alcohol you had shared. "Me too." he said, stretching so that his shirt raised a few centimeters to reveal his stomach. You both made a move to get up, laughing awkwardly as you did. Without really knowing what to say, you nodded at WinWin, leaned in, and planted a goodnight kiss right on his forehead. The horror at what had taken place hit you as soon as your lips left his skin. "Well, goodnight." you said, your eyes growing wider and wider. WinWin was smiling so big that it began to ease the panic. "Goodnight," he said. "Maybe when you're sober, you'll aim for the lips."

Jungwoo: You were both drunk, both clinging to each other, singing-well, shouting- a song that you heard earlier. Jungwoo was a lot taller than you, his big body swaying so much that you were convinced he was going to make you both topple to the ground. But he sturdily clung to your arms, his joyful face coming inches closer to your face. All you could see was his lips and how full they looked. So, you kissed him and watched him reel back in surprise, his full lips quivering. Without thinking about it for too long, Jungwoo leaned in to kiss you back, but ended up knocking his head into yours. Pain was all you felt when you collided, both from the pain of the collision and from the embarrassment. You stared at each other solemnly before bursting into a fit of giggles, the sound ringing in the night without care.

Lucas: "I can't find it!" Lucas shouted, though you were standing behind him. He was searching in the closet, using his height to search the top of the closet, his big hands knocking things over. When he turned back around and saw you standing there, he jumped and laughed and said, "I can't find it." You told him it was alright and pushed him into the closet, closing the door behind you. You turned off the light, robing you both in darkness. All you could hear was Lucas' breathing. You could smell his heavy cologne and how it intoxicated you more than the alcohol did. You placed your hand on his chest to steady yourself and find him in the dark, and then you kissed him. It was very brief, for Lucas had grabbed your shoulders and told you he couldn't kiss you when you weren't right in the mind.

Mark: The rest of the 127 members were being noisy, but it still felt like only you and Mark in the room. His eyes drifted to your mouth, hovering there for a few seconds before staring into your eyes. You spent too much time on Mark's birthday getting drunk and wishing he was brave enough to be the one to kiss you first. Realizing that you weren't going to get the other members to be quiet, and you certainly weren't going to get them to vacate the room, you tipped your body over the table, grabbed Mark's white t-shirt and pulled him until his lips met yours. The room grew quiet, only erupting into hollers when you let Mark go. As they made a fuss, you watched him grow shy from across the table, your eyes now making it known that you were staring directly at Mark's lips.

Xiaojun: He wasn't immune to first date jitters. He knew the first kiss was coming soon, and he would be expected to perform, which made the lump in his throat seem to swell more. You could say that you were equally nervous, but you liked Xiaojun a lot and very much wanted to kiss him. "I've been drinking. " he said. "I don't think it's going to be good." Him explaining himself made you feel giddy. "I've been drinking too, remember?" you said. You looked at each other for a beat too long, before you took a deep breath and just did it. Kissing Xiaojun, drunk or not, was every bit as amazing as you thought it would be. His lips were timid but receptive. He was gentle and eager, something you were thrilled by. When you parted, a first successful kiss under your belt, Xiaojun punched the air in excitement.

Hendery: When he was drinking, Hendery liked to talk. He would gear up for lengthy speeches, brushing his long hair from his face, the same face that was shaded with twinges of pink. You watched him wave his arms around, his words going in one ear and out of the other. You thought about how handsome he looked, the effect of alcohol, no doubt, getting to your brain too. "Don't you agree?" he asked, swinging his attention towards you. "They don't care about us, they never did. They-" Before he could finish his sentence, you kissed Hendery hastily. He kept trying to speak, but you kept on kissing him, each kiss becoming longer than the last. "I'm sorry," you said, keeping your eyes closed a moment longer. "You were saying. " Opening your eyes, you could see that Hendery was too stunned to speak anymore.

Renjun: "I want to ask you something." you said, cornering Renjun. He lowered a cup from his lips, the alcohol inside sloshing around. He thought it would have been better to just drink it and avoid the conversation he felt was coming. "Do you want to know if Mark likes you back?" Renjun asked. "He does like you. So, you're free to go after him, if you want." Confused, you looked at Renjun and asked, "Who is Mark? I don't know him, but I wanted to ask you if you would mind if I kissed you right now." Completely shocked, Renjun nearly dropped his cup on the ground. "I'm drunk right now." you continued. "But, Renjun, I've liked you for over half a year." Renjun blinked and could only nod. You stepped forward and kissed him, your fingers tucked under his chin. Pulling away, Renjun blinked again, before breaking out into a grin that made your heart dip into your stomach.

Jeno: Your shaking hands made it more difficult to take the photo, so Jeno took your phone from you. Placing his cheek against yours, he held the phone up high, his still thumb hovering over the button. Seeing you smile, he pressed the button and took a picture. "What do you think?" he asked, holding it up for you to see. "I think we look cute." You were both drunk out of your minds, but you were the unstable one. The picture looked fine, but you weren't staring at that. Jeno's lips were inches away, the only sign that he had consumed alcohol at all was in the way he couldn't stop smiling. Jeno was always a happy drunk, which made it that much easier to simply kiss him. You and Jeno made out, only really moving away from each other when Jeno raised your phone up high again and took a picture of you kissing each other.

Haechan: "I want you to be my first kiss, Donghyuck." you said, staring at Haechan. He was just as drunk as you were, but you could hardly tell, since he was so relaxed. You, on the other hand, were struggling to keep calm. You thought he would immediately shut you down, but Haechan looked amused by your request. He came and sat in front of you, licking his lips and smirking with pleasure when he saw how you had responded. You were moving around where you sat, not knowing where to put your hands. "Close your eyes when I kiss you, I'm shy." he said. You closed your eyes. He closed his eyes, too, but you opened your eyes up and found his lips, delighting in the slight surprise jolt Haechan made with contact. "That's naughty." he said, between kisses. "I like it."

Jaemin: He was clingy when he was drunk, which was fine by you. You liked seeing that side of Jaemin, the one who didn't care what people around him thought, the one that looked at you like you were the only person in the whole world who understood him. Jaemin nuzzled his nose against yours, your body jerking back slightly as his top lip grazed yours. "What are you doing?" he asked. "Don't you want to kiss me?" You wanted to tell him that, of course, you did. There was never a time in your life when you hadn't wanted to kiss Na Jaemin. Rather than shy away, you stepped forward in your drunken bravado and kissed him right on the mouth. Jaemin grunted in approval as your hands found their way underneath his shirt, your fingertips scratching down the ridges of his abs.

YangYang: "You don't like me very much, do you?" YangYang asked. It was less of a question and more of an observation. Yet, you couldn't help but answer it, anyway. "I do like you." you said. You took a sip from your cup, realizing that the liquid was disappearing faster than you meant it to. YangYang flipped his empty cup upside down and fixed you with a look that, for some reason, made your blood boil. "I do like you." you said again, your eyes narrowing slightly. YangYang held out his arms and looked around, as if addressing a crowd, that a coward was in their midst. "Prove it." he said. You were astounded, unsure of what action to take. When all thoughts failed, you got up and walked to the other side of the table, plunking down beside YangYang. You kissed him, as if the kiss itself would explain that you liked him more than he thought. YangYang clapped, as you pulled away. "Maybe one more time," he said. "I didn't feel like you meant it."

Shotaro: He clicked his bottle of beer against yours and took a long drink, his eyes appraising you over the bottle. You never loved the taste of alcohol, especially beer, but you liked the feeling that wrapped itself around your body like a warm hug. Also, drinking with Shotaro was one of the few pleasures you enjoyed in life. "It's good." Shotaro said, looking at the label. His lips were glistening with beer and, feeling unlike yourself, you leaned in a little closer to watch a bubble of spit pop on his bottom lip. "Yeah." you said, not remembering what you were agreeing to. "Ro, you're really handsome." Shotaro smiled and broke out into laughter, his face lighting up. Watching you lean in closer, as if in a trance, his jolly expression was replaced with lust. You kissed him and he allowed it, letting out a moan as you bit down on his lip.

Sungchan: You walked up to him, closing your eyes tight, your throat practically bursting with the words you'd held in for months. "I really like you, and I think about kissing you all of the time. I don't know if it's because you're tall, funny or you have the sweetest smile. Or maybe it's because you're a good person and you care about others, but I think about kissing you all the time. I know I've said that twice now, but it's the truth. And I've had a little bit to drink, but I am not drunk." When you finished speaking, you opened your eyes to see Sungchan's shocked face. "I like you, too. "he said, quietly. Feeling like you were on a roll and couldn't stop, you marched right up to him, got on your tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth. You could feel Sungchan's lips wanting to smile, so you parted and let him smile big enough to make you swoon.

Chenle: Like they were a moving target, you zeroed in on his lips. Your eyes followed the way his lips were moving, and how his pearly white teeth would bare themselves, and you couldn't help smiling back. Chenle was talking to you, but you didn't hear a single thing he had to say. You kept your eyes on his soft, pink lips and leaned in to kiss him, your lips puckered and ready. Chenle was more clever than you and had time to pull away before you did something you might regret. "Maybe tomorrow." he said. "After you've had a nice nap and thought about it some more." You felt disappointed by the lack of his lips on yours, but Chenle's perfect smile attacked you some more, making you lose all thoughts about the failed kiss.

Jisung: You kissed him and the world started to spin a little faster, your heartbeat zooming around in your chest. Jisung touched his wet lips with his fingertips, a look of disbelief flashing across his handsome face. He looked at you, his eyes searching your eyes for answers, but you were busy smiling off into the distance. He screwed his face up in innocent confusion, before letting his mouth relax into a small smile that reclaimed your attention. "You just kissed me." he said. Slowly, his smile began to falter when he realized that you were very intoxicated, not sober, and you might not have meant it. "We shouldn't." he said, waving you away with his hand. " Let's just talk. I'll sit up with you until you fall asleep."

[mutogamingco]

"Hey. You're Mutou Yuugi, right?" 

Yuugi turned to see a young boy who he'd guess was probably about twelve staring at him. He recognized him, with a piercing stare and neatly cut hair, because the kid had also spent quite a bit of time coming by the Kame Game Shop when he was working. He didn't always buy something, and he also hadn't been there to interact with the other kids. More than once Yuugi thought he felt someone watching him through the window as well as he stacked shelves, though those times he didn't see who it was before they moved away from the window. Not that he wasn't used to such attention by now from shy kids. 

What was odd was that the boy chose to approach him at the park while he was on his way home from running an errand, not while he was working. He had a few guesses what it would be about.

"Yes, I am," he said, anticipating a barrage of questions he often got, but was only met with a stare. 

...

"Can you look at my cards?" The boy held out a deck, though it seemed incomplete. Yuugi took it to mean he wanted his opinion on what to do. Maybe he was too shy to ask at the shop with other kids his age around? 

It was harder to say no to kids who were just beginning to learn the game and Yuugi wasn't in a hurry, so he smiled and shifted the back to his arm as he took the cards and thumbed through them.

"Sure, I'll take a look. I can recommend some good starter packs too that might help you out if you need them." 

There was a definite theme to the monster cards--they were all foxes or kitsune-type, but there didn't seem to be enough synergy between them that could be effective, and he needed more spells and traps. Already forming a list in his mind, he didn't pay much mind to the sound of paper unfolding. 

"You've got a good start, but it looks like you need some more cards that you can link up. If you come to the shop tomorrow I can set some aside--" 

Yuugi's sight was obstructed by a slip of paper slapping him right in the face, and his startled yelp turned into a distressed cry. He dropped both the cards and his bag and reached up to tear the thing away as his body and the entire air around him buzzed. His ears rang. 

What was going on?!

After what felt like an eternity he managed to claw the thing from his face and glared incredulously at the one who had so rudely thrown it at him. 

"What was that for?!" The last word was cut short in a strangled gasp as he stared up from the ground at the kid, even though he had not fallen to his knees. 

"I knew it," The boy said, taking out a rope. 

"W-wha--" Yuugi leapt back and stumbled, when he looked down to check his footing he froze, seeing two dainty black paws where hands should have been. 

WHAT WAS GOING ON?!

The boy dove for him with the rope and Yuugi screeched and tore away in the opposite direction, unsettled at the sound that just came out of his mouth but pushed it out of his thoughts in favor of getting away. Running far away, as fast as he could and finding a place to hide. The cover of bushes on the side of the bike trail was exactly what he needed. He couldn't be followed in there. 

Then he found a hole among the roots of an old tree and dove in, curling into a terrified, shivering ball as he listened for the slap of shoes on the ground to pass. He panted, and blood roared in his ears. He was dizzy with terror. Yuugi did not move for a long while. 

He put a...paw...over his face. He had a sharp, pointed muzzle and whiskers. Dread made his fur bristle as he spun circles to get a look at himself--pale yellow fur with darker splash of color down his back. It lead down to a black fluffy tail with a white tip...no, three tails. Two pale yellow ones on either side. Yuugi reeled and laid down on the soft earth. He curled into himself and his new tails covered his face. He couldn’t stop shivering.

What was going on...?!

[oonajaeadira]

If You Will Let My Heaven Touch Your Stars (Ezra x f!reader)

Rating: Mature. 

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect film) x f!reader

Warnings: FLUFFY SMUT. INSPIRED BY THIS. Non-explicit oral (m and f receiving). Formatting may be strange in certain Tumblr themes due to paragraph spacing with the poetry.

A/N: Okay, y’all. I was looking for another reason to write some Ezra. I got inspired by this naughty confessional post and felt the need to rise to the challenge, but make it a bit soft. You know I’m allergic to writing physical doings without some emotional yearnings. So it has come to this. And I’m not sorry.

Summary: Ezra runs his mouth over some poetry. You run your mouth over some Ezra.

TAGLIST: you can always request to be on the taglist for this or any of my work. If you’d like to be on taglists for upcoming fic, please sign up here –> TAGLIST

MASTERLIST

_______________________________

You know that sigh. It will be shortly followed by a gravelly, dissatisfied “hm.”

“Hm.” 

Next will come the impatient flipping of pages as Ezra learns that the book he’s chosen from the stack he got in trade on the Pug is…”less than literary and more than malignant.”

“What’cha reading, Ez.” The main node on the electropulse generator blew during the last harvest and you’ve been doing your best to repair it for the better part of the scaling period. Better to keep eyes on the electrics than let them wander over to his bedroll where he’s stripped to his skivvies, propped up against a crate, reading.

The rotation of Ranakh-4 is almost sixty hours, and in the north hemisphere there’s always light. Should be perfect for prospectors to take shifts and get things done, but instead, it creates a scaling period--a good fifteen-hour window of intense heat and sunlight that’s too dangerous to be exposed to for long, causing lots of nasty side effects. Including skin scaling. Hence the name. So during that period you and Ezra hide in the cooled tent, sleeping, polishing gems, maintaining equipment, wasting time, and generally trying not to annoy each other too much.

That’s a joke between you. In the years you’ve known him, Ez has yet to get under your skin. Ezra’s usually up for a game of dice or five-stand during scaling period, and if you’ve got gear to clean or inventory to count, he’s good for a story. Or ten.

But after the third rotation he stopped playing games of chance with you and his stories got gradually less... crusty. He still had a lot to say, but he stuck mostly to mining anecdotes, weaving around salacious details and editing himself in the moment.

And you’re pretty sure you know why.

This isn’t the first posting you’ve had with Ezra.

There was the assignment on Phintreas. The job on TG-19. The second assignment on Phintreas--that one it was just the two of you. Just like this one. 

There was a moment near the end of that run when you took a break from digging to stretch, arching your back in the dappled sunlight and pulling your arms up and back toward the thick foliage tops. There were singing insectoid creatures on Phintreas and you’d dropped your wrists to your head to listen to their song a little, closing your eyes and hearing in their hum the chords of a song you used to love.

It was just a few seconds, the warm air on your bare shoulders, the long thin trees--actually large grass--rising and swaying above. A pleasant stretch in your lower back. But there was something off. Your ears were full of insect song but there was something missing. 

The sound of Ezra’s digging had stopped.

You turned to find him taking a break, leaning on his shovel, jumpsuit open and pulled down to a knot at his waist like yours. Dirt-streaked arms and undershirt, looking at you, staring with sad eyes, the long slopes of his mustache running into his patchy beard making him look like he was pouting more than he was. Probably. Totally lost in thought, his eyes slid down your torso. When he woke to the fact that you caught him using you as a backdrop for reverie, he didn’t even have the balls to be embarrassed. Just realigned his focus on his shovel and went back to digging, the veins straining out on his big hands.

“You okay, Ez?”

“As well as one can be, sweetheart. I feel we’re close. It is a fine day full of wonderments.”

You’d thought about that look in the days afterward. Didn’t really know what it meant for you. Until the final sleep cycle on that grass planet, the wind traveling through the fields making the grasses sing hollow and low in the night. 

“What’cha reading, Ez?” You’d come to learn that it was a magic question, one that not only got you an explanation, but perhaps a chapter or two in his baritone twang.

And that night, as you packed your final bag, he swung the spine around to read out, “Papas Cordel, Love Verses.”

He didn’t ask you if you wanted to hear any. He just started to read.

Softly. Slowly. The words were innocuous on their own but their combination was sinful, his voice melting at the back of your brain, lifting the fine hairs of your neck, slithering down your spine before making an orbit to press upon your core and vibrate there. 

He never said goodnight. Just read you a few poems full of worship and yearning in that sonorous voice of his, then rolled over and went to sleep. It left you in a panic, trying to control your breathing, in full understanding of what that look from a few days ago had really meant.

And for the duration of your next couple of jobs you spent some time in regret, wishing you’d decoded your feelings sooner or that he’d made his own clearer. You’d vowed that if you ever had the chance to go back and live that night again you wouldn’t hesitate to….what? To do what? You never got that far. Didn’t matter. Time doesn’t go backwards. After a while, it was easy enough to convince yourself that you’d just read too much into it, that you didn’t really feel anything and neither did Ez. He had just been tired and staring into space that day. And he’d just been aesthetically moved by the song of the grasses in the night wind. It was a trick of the light, and the more you rationalized it, the further the memory slipped into the realm of silly fantasy.

So when this assignment came, you’d had time enough to leave the fantasy behind and met Ezra as you always had--as a friend and a damn talented prospector you were happy to dig with. The man always got his haul and getting paired with him always meant profit.

It only took one scaling period to make you realize you were lying to yourself. 

Scaling period means getting somewhere shaded and cooled and making yourself as comfortable as possible. Which means stripping down to essentials. All those dice games trying not to look at Ezra’s broad, bared chest, looking up from a hand of cards to find his eyes quickly darting away from you…. By the third rotation you’d noticed that neither of you could make eye contact with the other anymore and after that, Ezra generally spent his downtime during scaling periods laying on his bedroll in his skivvs, reading one of the dozen books he’d scavenged back on the station.

You weren’t sure if you were flattered or embarrassed or even injured that he wouldn’t move on whatever he was tense about. But, ultimately, this arrangement was easier.

Or so you lied to yourself.

A “what’cha reading, Ez” got you a few chapters of an old time-travel adventure or a philosophical treatise on the life of some forgotten pioneer while you mended a garment or recounted the supply of viable drill bits or tried to fix the damn faulty electropulse generator for the millionth time. Something rollicking and full of resonance to keep your ears busy and your mind distracted while you focused your eyes on anything but Ezra’s bronze skin and sable eyes and full lips and big hands and thick thighs and--

This time he clicks his tongue and runs a hand through his hair, humming a high note in a kind of frustrated laugh. “I won’t devastate your ears on this one, sweetheart. Not much of interest here but some poor soul ruttin’ and scraping for talent that eludes them. How this found its way into a thing to be bought and sold I will never understand.”

And yet, he keeps reading. Silently.

After a few minutes and another wire successfully cleaned and reconnected, you repeat yourself, taunting him.

“What’cha reading, Ez.”

“Mm.” He just flips through a few more pages, refusing to answer.

“Hey.” You chuckle into your work. “What’cha reading.” 

You hear a huge intake of breath before a hold and a forced release.

“Wow,” you laugh. “Fine. Don’t waste breath on it. Just tell me which one it is so I can avoid it later.”

“Love and other Stars by Aeon Aido Raja.”

“I see. What’s it about?”

“Sadly, it is about a poet who cannot seem to make the match between words and sentiment; a volume of supposed amorous verse.”

“Amorous verse,” your hands stop working on their own. “Love...poetry?” There’s a sudden flashback to the sound of hollow reeds and soothing verses in the night. The words are a program in your brain, overwriting your inhibition and professionalism, pushing you to a deeply-coded goal to calm the flutter in your chest.

“So it claims. Although I fear it lacks full understanding of both--” His voice cuts out as he realizes you’ve stood and you’re moving toward him and his wide eyes lock to yours as you sit beside him on the bedroll. “Now what has gotten into you, sweetheart?”

You know exactly what’s gotten into you. The triggered wish of returning to that night, the built-up tension of dancing around each other in your underwear, trying to deny what’s going on, watching him purposefully respect you when you know he feels something, when he knows you do too--

What was it you were going to do if you had a chance to go back to that last night on the grass planet? Time to find out.

“Read to me.”

Ezra hesitates, unsure. “This?”

“Read it.”

His eyes flick down to follow the quick fold of your lips as you wet them with your tongue, unconsciously mimicking you, before fumbling his gaze back to the book and, with a regretful sigh, begins.

“I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--

“Walking through the light of a moon in decline-- Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

When he looks for your reaction, you’re not sure if he’s pleading with you for permission to stop or continue.

Shit. He’s right. It isn’t great. But you’re here now, you’re going to make the most of it.

“That’s not...so bad.” And then you find out what you would have done that night--or at least how you’d start--by showing him your raised palm, lowering it slowly toward him. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” Your hand travels down through the air, just to the inch above his skivvs, waiting a moment in the aura of radiated heat there, before settling lightly over him. He never says no, never takes his eyes from yours, the only reaction coming from a small lift in his chest, the corner of his mouth curling just a fraction, and the fabric beneath your hand quickly becoming the only thing there to qualify as soft.

“Sweetheart, what you’re beginning here--”

“The only words I want from you are that poem. I want to hear you read. You stop, I stop.”

The heat hangs heavy between you, burns beneath your hand. And with a huffed exhale, Ezra starts again.

“I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--

“Walking through the light of a moon in decline-- Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

Supporting him from underneath, you’ve begun running your thumb up and down him, and his breath hitches, bringing him to a stop. So you stop.

“You stop, I stop, Ez.”

“Believe me, gentle one, I do not wish the impediment of your affections--”

“Then don’t stop.”

In a beautiful panic, Ezra looks back to the poem. “You sure you want this one?”

You nod. “I don’t care how good it is. That’s the poem I want. Keep going. I've always liked your voice. I know you can make it pretty.”

He stares at the page a moment, and you push him--literally--gasping into a start.

“If ever I could tell you When my heaven touched your stars If ever I could tell you Beloved--”

You stop palming him when he stops to breathe, and it’s only when you trace his waistband with your fingertips that he swallows and continues, willing you to keep going--

“Waking in the night to the aching void of your embrace-- Can you forgive me if I plead your name? If I summon you to my body from wherever you are?”

Whether it’s the want in his voice or just getting further into the words, the poem is already getting better. His eyebrows begin to push together and arch, as you stretch the top of his underwear down, wrapping your hand around him. His words start riding the occasional groan which just resonate with you more and you rock yourself against the bedroll in time with your gentle, yearning pulls--

“You hold me adroitly With accurate proximity To keep your breath and my breath Two founts and one pool. To swim a in star-reflective stream of our holy recreation--”

He’s doing so well, the words wandering out deep and breathy, so beautifully controlled...until you lower your mouth to him.

Then there’s a strangled staccato grunt as he adjusts, takes a couple of quick breaths and continues--

“But your body is a.....wildfire Your lips a destruction And I give my everything over to your….cleansing devastation.”

Oh, his struggle is glorious. You can feel him trying not to buck, needing to blow out a breath between pursed lips here and there to concentrate on the print. He reads with intent, leaning into context and feeling, making a gift to you of every word.

“I have yearned for you to find me worthy of a spark An ignition... The rebirth of your combustible attentions.”

He pauses again to breathe, and while you allow him a small reprieve, he’s stopped a little too long and you abruptly halt. When you pull back to look up in reprimand, he gives you a soft smile through his panting, shaking his head in wonder. You know he’ll have plenty of praises when this is over, but he doesn’t seem to want to break the spell to say them now. When you return his little smile, he looks back to the page and continues, prompting you to return to your own administrations.

“How you draw from me each sweet effusion-- Every secret vein untapped-- Now yours in expert execution, Now open to your burning maw.”

He pushes through the poetry rather than into you, allowing you to hear him and match him. Your body begins to counter-react as you feel him brimming, turning on more need in you than you’ve felt in a while, and you show him just how well he’s doing by doing well by him. 

There’s a shift in his voice as more breath enters in and nonverbal noises begin to punctuate the words; a shift in his body as his fingers tangle in your hair and grip tightly, suggesting a final rhythm-- 

“But within the fire An aperture of...divine precipitation Where those of us who live untouched Can go to drown To die To howl…..! To see the blessed face of eternity Or the….busting open….of a thousand….wretched….stars-- You-call-me-to-sinful-prayer You-invoke-my-abject-soul I find myself in debt…!...and thrall…!... to your superior…!...divinity--”

When he stops reading this round, you show mercy as he pounds his fist into the bedroll and makes his own additions to the poem, exclamations made up of your name and curses and calls to higher powers. You can only expect a man to expel from himself wondrously one method at a time, and Ezra’s earned his reward so beautifully.

Damn his opinion. The poem was perfect. You chose correctly. Either that, or Ez’s tongue really can spin any old refuse into gold.

But the book is still held high, and as you lift from him and guide him through his aftershocks with your hand, he breathes heavy though the final verse--

“This is how I love you from afar With agony and forlorn words While you hover forever in my purview A shaft of dazzling incandescence Shining down from your sun/star Through the glass of my desire Starts and restarts an everlasting blaze”

Then, setting the book reverently on the bedroll, he takes your face in his hands, dragging his thumbs across your lips, no longer needing the page for the last lines.

“If ever I could tell you And if you will let my heaven touch your stars If ever I could tell you Beloved--”

Ezra’s kiss is achingly grateful. He tries to put into one kiss the loving equivalent of everything you’ve just done for him.

When he pulls back, he gives you the tiniest rough shake, a punctuation of his playful consternation. “Mmm,” he grunts. “While I am glad to know you find my recitals pleasing, you’re about to find out that my talent for oral ministrations do not stop at mere recitation.” With a miner’s strong arms he flips you over him onto the bedroll, making short work of your underwear and pinning your legs around his shoulders in a matter of seconds. “Now, I will not be so cruel as to make you put words to my reciprocation, unless you’d like to fill the silence to direct me to your will. Or say what you please. I will not be able to add to the conversation as I will be otherwise occupied.”

You don’t know if it’s years of running his mouth or wagging his tongue or yapping his jaw, but he’s well practiced in using allllll the muscles therein to help finish what poetry couldn’t quite accomplish.

At one point you think of surprising him and trying your own hand at reading while being entertained. But when you fumble for the book, it opens to the same poem.

But not the same poem.

The opening lines are there: “I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--Walking through the light of a moon in decline--Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

And that’s it.

That’s where it ends. The whole published poem--a mere seven lines.

Oh, Kevva. That’s...that means….

Damn, Ezra. The mouth on you.

The book drops to the bedroll.

And you break into pieces as his heaven masterfully consumes your stars.

________________

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Taglist: @melobee @extraterrestrialdork @14mcmd1122 @grogusmum @cannedsoupsucks

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Quite at Home in Hell

For @whumptober2021 day six & day 21:  blood-matted hair & hunger

CW: Vampirism, blood drinking, noncon touch, creepy whumper, sadistic whumper, biting, captivity, dehumanizing language

Vampire Chris AU Masterlist | Follows directly from this piece

Thanks to @boxboysandotherwhump for helping me with the German & @alittlewhump for helping with the French!

-

1918, the Western Front of WWI

The prisoners are held in a small, hastily constructed sort of barracks far too close to the front lines.

Gefrieter Erich Eeten knows why, of course. The hope is that his own people will hesitate before they blast this bit of dirt apart, that they will be concerned enough about killing their fellow soldiers that they’ll give up a few key moments of pause to the French, the Americans, and the British. Give them the advantage in a firefight.

They want to shield themselves with the bodies of the men in this tent, unwashed and dirty, who are exhausted from a day spent digging trenches for their enemies to hide in. 

He can’t exactly blame the Allied powers for it. 

It’s a brilliant bit of strategy, if less and less effective as men on both sides become so battle-hardened that they cease to care about their own lives, let alone each other. Still. He’d almost rather be at one of the true POW camps further away from the front lines, where the Red Cross at least comes to check on their treatment.

Here, so close to the front, there is no one keeping watch on what happens to them at all… and the longer the war draws on, the more viciously they kill each other, the more the prisoners kept here too far for oversight feel like they are teetering at the edge of some terrible invisible cliff. 

There’s a stiff breeze outside the tent, whipping the heavy, waterproofed canvas edges. They’re flapping a little, making a sound that Erich will one day hear in his nightmares. The cold sneaks in through the slight space between tent and ground, and the men in here are huddled together for warmth, sharing the meager blankets they are given. 

At least, though, their captors are officially the French. 

Say what you will about the blasted frogs, they never deny their prisoners a nip of strong cognac to help hold off the cold. The Americans, on the other hand, seem to be laboring under an enforced lack of good liquor, not just for prisoners but for their own soldiers, too. That seems a worse crime than nearly any other, in circumstances like this. To force a man to be a cruel killer without even a nip or three to soothe his conscience… to Erich, it sounds like brutality.

There’s a bit of a scuffle outside the tent, and the prisoners look up. Erich is at the back, leaning back against the rough frame of a cot he sleeps on at night, cards in his hands wrapped in strips of bandage cloth just for warmth. What happened to his gloves, he’s no idea. Probably one of the Allies took them for a souvenir.

The canvas wraps work well enough.

“Au garde-à-vous, prisonniers! Sur vos pieds!” Erich knows the voice - it’s the main guard of the tent they sleep in, a man named Alain who looks entirely too old for war. Here he is, anyway, all moustache and silvering hair, pulling open the entrance of the tent, moving the flap aside. 

Erich glances left and then right, meeting the eyes of his fellow prisoners, and the half-dozen of them that share this single small tent push heavily to their feet, shifting apart as much as the tent will allow, hands behind their back. 

His stomach dips, a low drumbeat of dread alongside his heart. Something tells him this isn’t a social call he wants to be part of. 

He’s even more certain when a tall, thin American steps into the entrance, nearly silhouetted by the dim, barely-there light behind them. Their hair is long, in a loose plait with parts undone, and their eyes gleam, briefly seeming to glow in the dark. Erich is reminded of his mother’s cat, who would stalk mice at night and whose eyes did just the same when light hit them.

He feels very… mouselike.

They wear a medic’s uniform, but it’s a little tattered. There are unrepaired bullet holes through the heavy woolen tunic, and they move with grace and disdain for how heavy wet wool must be, how itchy and uncomfortable. As if it simply doesn’t matter to them.

Because, of course, it doesn’t. The damn thing is a walking corpse, baring fangs in a grisly smile.

“Hello, soldiers,” They say, in a voice that isn’t quite a purr. “You all look a fright.”

“Verdammte Blutsauger,” Lukas Müller mutters to his right. 

Erich hates the bloodsuckers. Everyone does. They come with the Americans, monsters brought from the shadows as a kind of secret weapon. Erich has never seen vampires out in the open before - back home, they are creatures of hiding. They live in cellars and basements and houses with the windows painted in thick matte black. They sweep along the streets at night, a risk for anyone who stays out too late.

But they’re not part of anything. 

Here, they’re death itself, demons quite at home in hell.

 Oh, sure, the Americans claim they use them only for bringing the injured back to safety - and some of them, he’s sure, are kept to that purpose. Some kind of ability to deny the truth of them, if there are enough seen doing only what the official story claims.

Erich, though, has seen one dispatching wounded German soldiers one by one left behind in a field, killing them before they can be recovered by their own people. He’s seen one with fangs buried in the throat of a man who would otherwise have lived. They’re listed as medics, but those things are what keeps the Germans on their own side of the battle lines after dark, and everyone knows it. 

His own side brings canisters of poison gas. The Americans respond with an army laced around its edges in abominations the gas can’t touch.

The vampire sighs, faintly disappointed. “No good morning for me from my audience?”

Erich speaks the best English out of them all - his grandmother was English, taught it to his father in the cradle, who taught it to him. It’s made him more or less the spokesman for his small group of prisoners, and for the larger group when they are moved and briefly allowed to interact with the others. He clears his throat, stepping forward slightly. Lukas and Vilhelm, on his other side, nudge him just a little with their shoulders. It’s meant to be support, he supposes. 

He feels like he’s being pushed onto a target painted on the floor, one invisible only to him. 

“Good morning,” Erich says, voice flat, letting his accent roll far more heavily off his tongue than it needs to, turning good into gut. It’s always good to let the enemy believe you know less than you really do, so he pretends that English comes with difficulty and not ease. “Should you not turn to ash?”

Their eyebrows raise just slightly, not quite in amusement, and they give a brittle little laugh. “First off, Fritz, that’s a myth. Secondly, it’s not even morning. Probably close to evening now, honestly.” 

Erich rolls his eyes. Lukas mutters something under his breath next to him, but the slight creaking of their boots seems to cover it too much to be understandable. Erich sighs, heavily. “Then why did you have us say to you good morning, Blutsauger?” 

“Because it’s funny that you don’t know what time it is, of course. All right, who here is Fritz, who is Hans, and who am I just going to call Kraut?” 

“No one here is named Hans and no one is Fritz, fangs.” Erich tips his chin down slightly, a lock of greasy brown hair falling into his eyes. “May you drown in holy water.”

He spits at the vampire’s feet.

He feels a pang of regret when the vampire turns to look at Alain, the French guard and points back at Erich, cheerful. “I want that one. He’s rude.”

“Das ist pech,” Lukas whispers.

When Alain simply stares at them blankly - and Erich knows Alain speaks English, they’ve spoken before in a tongue they had in common when neither spoke the other’s mother-tongue -  the vampire groans. They don’t seem to know Alain is pretending not to understand them. “Fine. Let’s try this again. Je veux cet homme, s'il vous plaît.”

Alain’s expression tightens a little. He nods, and he won’t look Erich in the eyes as he draws the entrance open a little wider. “Emmenez-le alors.”

“Merci beaucoup,” The vampire says, giving a little bow. Erich backs up, but there isn’t anywhere to go, and none of them is armed. Besides, any resistance is met with removal of meals, with being denied the smallest comforts that make this bearable. With the possibility of all of them being handed over to a vampire, not just one.

This war had been civilized, in some ways, before the Americans brought their monsters.

It’s not actually true, but in this moment it comforts him to pretend it, to have a place to put his furious disgust as the vampire’s thin, long fingers close around his arm and yank him forwards with inhuman strength. They’re clicking their tongue against the top of their mouth in a strange animal way. Erich thinks again of his mother’s cat, making just that sound watching birds outside the windows.

“May your hands be pressed into the holy cross,” Erich snaps as he’s forced out into the freezing humid air outside the tent. There are others walking around - a war camp is never less than controlled chaos, no matter the time of day - but none of them will look at him. No one acknowledges him, although they’ve all seen this before. They know what’s going to happen here. 

“Je déteste ça,” Alain mutters.

A bell is rung, clanging in a discordant note, and soldiers move into the POW tents. Erich is led towards a pole in the center of the ring of prisoner tents, something that a half-century ago might still have been a flogging post, a punishment for mutinous men. 

“Crosses don’t really harm us,” The vampire says, careless and casual. “Very little does, actually. I’m a big fan of garlic, for instance. Silver, though…” They hum, dragging a fingernail over Erich’s wrist. “That hurts.”

He jerks his hand back and free, only to have the vampire laugh, bright and brilliant, and grab him again, spinning him around until they’re behind him, chest pressed to his back, using that demon strength to twist his arms up his back until his bones creak and ache, forcing him forwards towards the pole. 

“I hope you have silver shoved down your throat,” Erich manages, but his heart is pounding in fear as the vampire grabs his hair and jerks his head to the side, forcing his cheek against the rough-hewn wood. Splinters bite into his skin and he grunts as his arms are moved, forced to encircle the pole. His wrists are tied with rope, leaving him looking a little ridiculous, as if he decided today to go for a hug. 

Another rope goes around his shoulders, keeping him in this awkwardly pressed position. He tries to kick back, pulling viciously, but then his ankles come next. The rope goes from them to small metal hooks driven hard into the ground, keeping his legs more than shoulder-width apart. He can’t kick, or even balance himself. He must rely entirely on the pole he’s tied to in order to stay upright. 

“I’m going to enjoy you,” The vampire murmurs. 

Behind Erich, the sounds of a crowd gathering begin. Soft mumbles, exhalations of surprise and disgust. He closes his eyes against the rush of heat he feels - more rage than tears - knowing the prisoners are being brought out to witness this, to be shown what could happen to them next.

It does an excellent job of making them grateful for every day it’s not.

The French commander of the POW camp is barking a running list of commands to his men, but Erich doesn’t speak enough French to clearly understand them. Someone comes close by behind him, and he jolts as there’s a clap to his back. There’s a laugh behind him, not the vampire but someone else.

He manages to see from the corner of his eyes. A different American, of course. Comfortable enough with the vampire to get this close to them. 

“Isn’t this a sorry sight,” The American says, and laughs. “What’s the prize for, fangs?”

The vampire lifts their hand, gently brushing Erich’s hair from his eyes. He spits in their face, this time, and is gratified by a flash of very real anger that briefly overtakes their constant amusement. They slowly wipe the spit away, then clean their hand - sort of - on Erich’s uniform. 

It’s so dirty they’re probably even less clean after that than they were before.

“Reported a desertion. Now I get fresh food.” They lean down, meeting Erich’s furious hazel eyes. “I’m so hungry, Fritz. All the time. Imagine being surrounded by schnitzel and cabbage as far as the eye can see, and you’re not supposed to eat your fill. Imagine how empty you would feel.”

“Fick dich.” 

“What, you won’t even curse at me in English anymore?” The vampire pouts, lower lip sticking out. He hates them more than he’s hated anyone during this godforsaken war. “Come on, you have to understand how hard this is for me, right?”

Erich ignores them, jerks his wrists again, trying to yank himself free of the ropes through sheer force. His back already is aching from being slightly bent forward, his thigh muscles stretched. He does the only thing he can think of - he slowly, with effort, drags his face along the wood and manages to turn away, and look the other direction. 

“Well, fine. I suppose you’ll be mad at me for acting like you all eat schnitzel and cabbage, too,” The vampire says behind him. He doesn’t dignify them with an answer. He fixes his eyes, instead, on a point in the dark roiling clouds in the sky, above the remaining trees. 

“The prisoners are well-positioned to witness,” A French officer states, speaking with a light, dancing accent but without the difficulty and hesitancy some of the regular infantry have. “You may feed when ready, Private Saathoff.”

That gets Erich’s attention. “Saathoff?”

“That’s right.” The vampire laughs, stepping up behind him. Their fingers move through the hair that curls, grown a little too long, over the back of his neck. He shudders with disgust at the intimacy of it. Their mouth moves close to his ear, but there is no heat of breath. Only the brush of lips. “Ich bin Deustcher, genau wie du.” 

“Nothing like me,” Erich grinds out with his teeth gritted together so hard his jaw is already aching. He presses his forehead into the rough wooden pole and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath. 

If he’s going to die…

“Vater unser im Himmel,” he begins, halting. He hasn’t seen the inside of a church since he was fourteen, and that was twelve years ago now. Still, the words to the Lord’s Prayer come easily, more muscle memory than thought. “Geheiligt werde dein Name. Dein Reich komme, Dein Wille geschehe, wie im Himmel so auf Erden-”

“Zu jeder anderen Zeit hätte ich dich als Haustier behalten.” They use his hair to jerk his head back, and their fangs jam into his neck with a flash of sudden agony.

It’s a white-hot pain that races down his spine to the very tips of his toes, and Erich screams, the sound strangled and thin but still echoing, bouncing off of trees and tents and back into his mind, crashing like the shells that slam into the earth. 

Lukas jerks forwards as if to run to help him and is pushed back by one of the French soldiers, their expression set in a grim line. They have to twist Lukas’s arms behind his back to hold him as he shouts, angrily, that this isn’t fair, it’s against the laws of conduct. 

There’s laughter, at that, from their captors. 

The other prisoners grumble and shift uncomfortably, look at anything but Erich whenever they can, but they can’t escape the sound of his horror, of his pain. 

There’s no pulse of the much-spoken-of venom. There’s no numbness to drift in, there’s no fog to cloud out his awareness of what is happening to him. Every muscle of Erich’s body is tensed tight enough to snap the bones they wrap around, the veins standing out in his throat as if giving them a roadmap of where the food can be found.

He didn’t know vampires could choose not to use the venom.

He didn’t know they could make it feel like this.

When his scream dies, he can’t get enough breath to make another. All he can do is let out high-pitched, thin whimpers and cries. Spots dance before his eyes. Beneath the sound of his heart pounding in a sudden panic to push more blood faster to replace what is being lost, he can feel - can hear - a low rumbling sound against his back.

Erich has heard the rumors that vampires purr, and now he knows they aren’t rumors at all.

He can feel it right through his back, just barely. It’s a vibration that would be pleasant if it didn’t seem to be somehow making everything hurt even worse, waking up his nerves the way the venom is supposed to deaden them. Their hands are closed around his ribs, pressing the tips of their fingers rhythmically against them, as if playing a piano, as if he is dough to be kneaded, as if he isn’t human at all.

As if he’s nothing but a field mouse that found his way into the wrong house, and the vampire is the housecat who has waited too long for a living toy to torment.

There is no prayer, in pain like this. There is no thought beyond the body’s fight for survival and the mind wanting to flee from it, if surviving means this feeling will not end. There is nothing but the feeling of his blood being pulled forcefully out of his body, nothing but his nerves screaming to escape it, nothing but the bite of the ropes that ensure he can do no more than jerk in his bonds and choke on his agony.

It feels like forever - and like a moment - when their fangs pull free, their cool rough tongue lapping at the wounds to close them, purring against his ear with contentment. Their fingers knead into his skin a little bit longer, drawing the moment out as he slumps against the wooden pole he’s tied to. He’s only standing because of the ropes.

Pain rolls through him, breaking against the edges of his body from the inside, like the smaller waves after a storm falling onto a beach already strewn with debris. He slumps. His own breath is a rasping wheeze, taking far more effort than it should.

Nein, Erich, Erich stirb nicht…” Lukas’s voice comes from somewhere so far away, filtering through the noise in Erich’s mind slowly. He can’t even begin to form a response. His mouth won’t answer his commands. It only hangs open, panting, pulling in the chilly air over his tongue. He starts to shiver as the breeze hits the cold sweat in his hair and on his neck, cuts through his uniform somehow.

He doesn’t have enough blood left to warm himself.

Their tongue licks up his neck behind his ear, matting his own blood into his hair there, sticky and hot. It starts to cool and dry immediately in the cold air. Erich’s stomach twists.

“Oh, he won’t die,” The vampire coos, petting through his hair slowly. Their nails scratch at his scalp. “Not today.” Their mouth presses back against his ear. “Thanks for the meal, Erich. And for being so entertaining. Maybe I’ll find you after the war. I’ll buy you a beer… and some schnitzel.”

They push themself away from him, turning away to wipe a bit of blood from the corners of their mouth, and walk with a jaunty step through an opening that appears in the ring of watching prisoners, whose eyes follow them with apprehension and no small amount of fear. 

When Alain comes up to untie him, Erich simply collapses into the Frenchman’s arms as soon as he’s free of the ropes. Lukas is allowed to move up to stand at his other side, putting Erich’s limp left arm around his shoulders, while Alain supports his right. Erich lets his head fall into Lukas’s shoulder, hitching his breath as he forces down a sob. 

“Wh… why do you let them do this?” He asks, his English slurred with the exhaustion that means he is dragged with his boots carving paths through the mud back towards the tent. 

Alain is silent until Erich is dropped onto his cot, the hard frame digging into Erich’s back right through the thin mattress. He glances over his shoulder, the three of them alone in here for the moment, and then looks back. 

“It is believed that this is how we will win,” He says, and pats Erich’s hand. “My apologies. I do not believe in the monsters, but I am not the one to run this war.”

“None of us are,” Erich says, weakly. He closes his eyes. “We are only the ones who must fight in it.”

There’s a pause, and Alain’s exhale is audible in the quiet tent. “I will ensure you are given extra meat rations tonight, and I will find you some schnapps. Essaye de dormir, maintenant, si tu peux,” he says with soft regret lacing his voice. Then there is a shuffle of footsteps, and he’s gone.

Lukas shifts and sits with his back to the cot, in the same position Erich was in before. He swallows, picking up the abandoned cards from the game they’d been playing, looking over Erich’s hand. “You’d have won, you know, on the next hand,” He says in German, before he reaches out to grab the others’ cards and reshuffle the deck.

“Do I still get my… my winnings?” Erich can barely move his lips to speak. He’s so tired. So, so tired. He can feel his hands starting to shake, now that it’s over, the trembling moving slowly up his limbs, stuttering his breathing. 

“My share of the liquor? Not on your life.” Lukas pauses, and then his tone gentles as he looks Erich over again. “You know what... of course you can. You’ll need warmth. What did the bloodsucker say to you, anyway? I couldn’t hear.”

Erich thinks about the promise to find him after the war, about the way they spoke into his ear as if he were little more than a toy top to be spun at their command. In another time, I’d keep you for a pet, they had whispered, before they bit down. 

He shakes his head, slowly. “Lies,” He answers, and feels the softer-edged darkness of sleep begin to take him.

“Lies?” 

“I hope… I hope they were lies.”

For the moment, at least, he is too exhausted by the present to feel terror for the future.

-

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @newandfiguringitout @astrobly @endless-whump @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump @thefancydoughnut

[fruitcoops]

So this is sort of similar to the people writing fanfic about the lions but can you imagine the YouTube edits? Like the videos that are just "Cap having heart eyes for Loops for 10 minutes straight" or "Loops lovingly dragging Caps name through the mud for 3 minutes" like those kinds of things and I can just imagine them doing reaction videos and it just being funny and the world just loving coops

Okay so this wasn't a specific fic request but I got carried away with imagining videos and....here you go. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Grace and Anna are mine! Bonus points to anyone who remembers the easter egg in this one!

Message From: Gracie

ANNA HOLY SHIT

Anna frowned at her phone screen, squinting to read around the spiderweb crack decorating the upper corner. She had tried to convince herself that it was cool, goth, edgy, but in the end she had to admit that it was just irritating. In a tragic turn of events, packing tape couldn’t fix everything.

Message To: Gracie

Wtf did I do

Two weeks of radio silence, then unexplained accusations. Anna shook her head as the grey bubble disappeared for a third time and turned back to her computer. Grace may have been her favorite cousin—and favorite person, if she was being honest—but very few things came between Anna and video editing. Especially editing for a Lions meme video. She had a whole 2,341 followers to attend to, after all.

Message From: Gracie

DID YOU SEE THE FUCKING INTERVIEW???

Message To: Gracie

Wow thank you so helpful

Message From: Gracie

Skip to 2:45 bestie

A link popped up just as Anna cut a segment from the sleep study video, where Loops’ heart eyes were in full effect. It was a rare, precious find for fan editors like herself.

“Come on,” she groaned. Maybe introducing Grace to the deepest parts of her hockey obsession was a mistake. But, really, what else was she supposed to do when she learned her cousin, who didn’t even live in Gryffindor, got to meet her favorite players just by chilling in a café? What kind of cosmic joke was that?

She narrowed her eyes at the embed of the link, then stifled a shriek. Impossible. How had she missed an upload?

As if on cue, her computer pinged with a new notification from the Lion Pride channel. “Oh, fuck me,” she muttered, scrambling to save her half-done video and pressing play.

The interviewer asked basic questions, ones she had heard the answers to a million times while curating her content. It always felt funny to hear people refer to Cap as ‘Sirius’—it was too official, too formal. She had spent countless hours on the compilations of his softer moments, and they were her most popular videos. Cap Having Heart Eyes for Loops for 10 Minutes Gay. Cap Being an Actual Puppy for Six and a Half Minutes. Everyone Wanting Cap Cuddles for Fifteen Minutes. Every Time Cap Smiles When Someone Mentions His Godson. The list was endless. She loved it.

She did a silent fist pump when she saw the interviewer had snagged both Cap and Loops; that would give her a whole new stream of workable content. If she was lucky, she could expand on her series of Loops Lovingly Roasting His Friends, part…fuck it, who was even counting anymore?

Anna was so caught up in her excitement that she nearly forgot about Grace’s suggestion. I’ve never skipped through a video on the first watch before, she thought hesitantly. But maybe just this once…

Her cursor hovered over the 2:45mark. She closed her eyes, and clicked it.

“—have you been adjusting to life as a celebrity?” the interviewer asked. Anna nearly rolled her eyes when Loops laughed. That question had been used far too often to be interesting anymore.

“It’s had its ups and downs,” Loops said with a smile. “Mostly, though, the fans have been incredible and just knocked my socks off with their support.”

“Really? What’s your favorite part of the Lions fanbase?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Their creativity, for sure. There was a video a while back where we reacted to some of the comments people left, and this person on Twitter made an absolutely beautiful collage of photos.”

“I have it saved to my phone,” Sirius added.

One more clip for the simp video. Anna made a note on the small corner space of her European History notes. The degree can wait for ten more minutes.

“Do you have a favorite creator?”

The interviewer was clearly teasing, but Loops’ smile was genuine. “I don’t know about a favorite, but there’s this person on YouTube who makes a shit ton of videos and they’re hysterical. I saw one the other day about—god, what was it again?”

“Every time I smile when people mention Harry,” Sirius answered around a laugh. “Can you blame me?”

Anna didn’t hear the next question. A ringing noise filled her ears as she sat, frozen, on her shitty dorm mattress and listened to her literal heroes talk about her dorky little channel. “Holy fuck,” she blurted after a moment of silence. “Holy fuck.”

“—subscribed?” The man’s voice snapped her back to reality.

“Of course I am!” Loops said. “You think I’m passing up a chance to watch a compilation of my friends making stupid decisions for the entire internet to see?”

A noise that would have been a shriek if Anna had any breath left in her body escaped her lungs; she clamped a hand over her mouth and shakily exited from the video before going to her YouTube account. 800 new notifications. 700 new followers in the last quarter hour. She was pretty sure she blacked out for a second from sheer shock and joy.

Message To: Gracie

What

Message From: Gracie

You’re famous!

Message To: Gracie

What

Message From: Gracie

I bet he knows your stuff better than he remembers me tbh

“They know me,” she whispered, staring at her computer. The unfinished video showed a perfect frame of Loops’ soft smile as he watched Cap get his toothbrush stuck in his pajama shirt. Somehow, the thought was both exhilarating and horrifying. What if they thought she was a creep? She wasn’t, not really, just a bored college student with not enough free time for a job but too much to keep herself busy with schoolwork. Her 2,341—no, 3,052—followers were just other hockey nerds looking for time to kill.

And the subject of those videos was one of her subscribers.

Anna slipped her headphones back on and began to edit like it was her last day on earth. Her fingers flew across the keyboard on muscle memory while her brain fizzed. Perfect, she thought. It has to be perfect.

In four hours, it was done. She sat back, panting, then hunched over again and began tapping out a title card.

Hello. Idk if anyone saw the new Lion Pride video today (linked below if anyone wants to see why I’m dying right now) but apparently Remus Lupin is subscribed to this channel and has been for a while.

Hi Loops. I’m Anna. You met my cousin once and she said she liked your sweater.

Now that that’s out of the way, please enjoy the next five minutes of our new rookie being the sappiest mf in existence (except for his fiancé). Mr. Lupin, please tell Hattie I say hello.

She pressed upload, peeled her headphones off, and collapsed backward on her bed.

Message To: Gracie

If I die here, tell the world I did it doing what I loved

Message From: Gracie

Will do

OH FUCK YOU FOR BRINGING UP THE SWEATER I SOUND LIKE A CREEP

Anna covered her itchy eyes with her forearm and settled in for a long, long nap. Her brain still needed to repair a few circuits.

[mianavs]

half agony, half hope

“you pierce my soul. i am half agony, half hope.” - jane austen

Oikawa x f!reader, regency!au, angst, romance, hurt/comfort

for @sakeomi​’s the chosen one collab

a/n: fueled by my love for jane austen and a bridgerton binge. some regency/nobility jargon but nothing too fancy. hope you like it :)

a huuuuge thank you to @tetsunormous​ for taking the time to look this over. you’re a gem!

wc: 9k+

Peering out the small window of your family’s carriage, you couldn’t help but scowl at the ridiculously nice weather you were having en route back to the ton. The weather had also been lovely the day you left society which you took as an affirmation that you’d made the right decision in leaving. Now, you didn’t feel that same hopeful sentiment you did back then and had hoped lousy weather would delay your return, but it seemed that your luck with the weather had run out.

The sun shone brightly and was accompanied by the perfect amount of white fluffy clouds amidst a beautiful blue sky. There was a light breeze that kept your bonneted head cool enough to prevent beads of sweat from trailing down your brow, and you were also positive that Henry, your footman, was enjoying the mild weather outside on his box seat as he escorted you from your family’s country estate back to town.

You drew back the small curtain and leaned back onto your cushioned seat before picking up the stack of letters beside you and thumbing through them until you found the first of many unopened ones. Setting aside the others—all mostly from your father demanding your return—you examined all twelve letters that bore an unbroken turquoise seal and were addressed to you from Toru Oikawa. They all had a date scribbled on the bottom right corner, with the first one dating back to six months after you left town. You successfully fought off the urge to open the letters and piled them up with the others before putting them away in a wooden box—a present from your late mother.

 It was hard to believe that a year had passed since you begged your father to let you retire to the country after witnessing an immoral scene no respectable person should ever witness—let alone the fiancée of one of the perpetrators. Looking back, you could firmly say it wasn’t the shame that drove you to abandon society and your fiancé but the heart-wrenching agony you felt from seeing the man you loved with another woman.

While love matches were a rare thing between members of the aristocracy, you had truly believed yours to be one of them, and it all started from the moment you first beheld Toru.

It had been the annual debutante ball hosted by the monarchy, and you, along with a dozen other seventeen-year-old ladies, were making your debut into society. The ball was strictly for the aristocracy only, and, as a result, only members of the nobility were able to mingle with each other.

While on the surface, it was meant to start the matchmaking season by introducing the newest line-up of ladies to the ton’s eligible bachelors and their mothers, there were other activities taking place simultaneously. Racy affairs took place under a cover of darkness in hidden corners or outside in the gardens, and business deals of all sorts were struck up in gambling rooms between men as they dealt cards and downed glasses of brandy.

Of course, being the naïve debutante that you were, thoughts on the covert activities taking place were beyond you. All you could think about was keeping your head held high, back straight, and minding your step as you walked to the dais where the royal family sat, to not trip over the hem of your new silk ball gown.

After a satisfactory curtsy and subtle nods from the King and Queen, you took your place next to your father, the Count. The butterflies in your stomach settled as you watched the debutantes with better curtsies, looks, and family backgrounds get asked to dance by eligible young men. After a couple of songs, apprehension ate away at your calm demeanor as you wondered if standing at the sidelines in the balls to come would be your fate. Beside you, the Count shifted uncomfortably, and you took notice of his knitted brows as he scanned the room for someone before excusing himself and disappearing into the crowd.

Just when you’d resigned yourself to a dance-less evening and twiddled with your dance card, a pair of black boots stood before you and captured your attention. You looked up to find yourself face to face with the man that would become your fiancé—Toru Oikawa, the Duke of Seijoh.

He was everything a young man should’ve been and more. He was effortlessly charming and handsome with his velvety brown eyes that remained fixed on you throughout that evening, tousled brown locks that added to his boyish looks, and a roguish smile that never failed to take your breath away.

Toru remained by your side that entire evening. The two of you spent half of the evening dancing and the other half talking about your interests and hobbies. It didn’t take much for an innocent girl like you to fall for the first man that spared you any attention, so by the end of the evening, when Toru placed a gentle kiss on your gloved hand, you were already half in love with the man.

Toru spent a considerable amount of time wooing you during those two months prior to your engagement in your defense. He called upon your home at least three times a week, during which the two of you split your time in your drawing room conversing over tea, admiring your estate’s gardens, or promenading through the town.

It was during those times that you realized just how popular your suitor was simply from the jealous stares that ladies would send your way. At first, it was easy to ignore them, but as time went on and they grew bolder in their actions, you often found yourself biting back tears during assemblies or rejecting tea invitations to avoid subjecting yourself to their snipes.

While being the object of the Duke of Seijoh’s interest did ostracize you from the other ladies, you found that it was worth it as long as Toru’s charming smiles and warm words continued to fill your dull life with love. That was the belief you held onto up until that fateful morning when Toru arrived with flowers and an engagement ring before getting down on one knee. Besides your initial meeting at the debutante ball, the day of your engagement was the happiest day of your life, made even more special by one of the Count’s rare smiles and an albeit awkward embrace.

Unlike the fantasy you had already concocted in your mind, the reality of your engagement was disheartening to say the least. Toru stopped visiting your home altogether and avoided you at balls and other social events. While you hid away in corners, sipped on a glass of port, and made-up excuses for him, Toru fluttered about the assembly rooms chattering away with friends and dancing with ladies that never failed to mock you afterwards.

During those rare occasions when he graced you with his presence, any complaints you took up with Toru were shot down as petty jealousy. His smile would disappear from his handsome face, and his eyebrows would knit together as if you were submitting him to a torture session by just speaking with him.

“What other proof of my love do you need?” He would ask and raise your ring-clad hand for effect. “You will be my duchess and the mother of my children. That is all that should matter to you.”

You spent the majority of the fall and winter seasons planning for your wedding with only the guidance of the Marchioness of Niiyama. She had been widowed at the young age of twenty and had inherited her husband’s title, but above all, she was Toru’s childhood friend. While you found the Marchioness witty and extremely helpful when it came to wedding planning and understanding Toru, you found yourself missing your deceased mother more than ever and wondered what sort of advice she would give regarding your relationship.

The only time you saw Toru was during the Christmas celebrations and official events where the two of you were expected to attend as a couple. Other than that, you didn’t see or hear from your fiancé and spent your days wondering what went wrong while ignoring the conclusion you came to every time.

Those thoughts would continue to plague your mind until the last ball of the spring season when you decided to take a stroll in the gardens only to find Toru and the person that had been your confidante over the last couple of months—the Marchioness. Her long willowy arms were wrapped around Toru’s frame with her gloved fingers tangled in his brown locks as the two shared a lover’s kiss.

The sight was like falling into frigid waters. A numbness washed over, and you stood frozen in place while the air around you thickened until you couldn’t breathe. There was a disconnect between your body that remained still and your mind that was full of screaming thoughts demanding you move, confront them, or leave the premises altogether. It wasn’t until you locked eyes with the marchioness that the spell you were under broke, and you fled the scene with hot tears stinging your eyes.

That night was the first time you cried in front of your father since the death of your mother. It was also the first time you personally asked him for anything and, to your surprise, he acquiesced.

For the remainder of that night, the house was abuzz in preparation for your departure at dawn. You also didn’t sleep a wink that night and instead gathered all of the letters, dresses, bonnets, and gloves Toru sent and tossed them into the fire. With swollen eyes and still in your ball gown, you sat in front of the fire and watched the items you once treasured burn until the flames died out and only ashes were left.

In the end, you left for your family’s country estate before the rays of the sun peeked over the horizon but not before taking off the ring on your left hand’s fourth finger and leaving it on the windowsill of your bedchamber.

“Apologies for the delay, my lady, but we’ll be arriving in the evening.” Henry called out to you from his seat at the front.

“Thank you for letting me know, Henry.” You replied and continued to flip through the documents you’d prepared prior to leaving your country estate.

When your sorrow turned into indignation, you decided to do everything in your power to put an end to your engagement. What started as a simple letter asking your father to end things with Toru on your behalf snowballed into endless hours of research and lessons on all matters relating to your family’s properties, business ventures, and finances. The catalyst? Your father’s curt reply explaining the details of your engagement contract.

The engagement also includes a business deal the duke struck up with me that will save us from ruin. It cannot be broken off simply because you’ve fallen out of love with him. Stop this nonsense and come home immediately.

Your Father,

Now a year later, you returned with a vast amount of knowledge on your family’s businesses and the large debt accumulated from decades of bad business moves. It was a sheer miracle your family hadn’t lost your properties yet, and it was easy to see why your father had readily agreed to an engagement with someone as powerful as Toru Oikawa.

He had offered your father enough money to settle your family’s debts and then some to invest back into Seijoh’s multiple businesses. While it was a fair enough deal on the surface, you couldn’t help but wonder why Toru had chosen you. If it was purely to find a wife and gain a life-long investor, there were plenty of other families in dire situations with daughters of marriageable age that would’ve fit the bill. Whatever his reasoning, you made it your mission to find out during your inevitable encounter with him.

The tired whinny of the horses woke you from your slumber to an almost pitch-black carriage. Henry rustled outside while you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and straightened your bonnet. The door opened a moment later, and your footman greeted you with a weary smile and an extended hand.

“Welcome home, my lady.”

You took his hand and stepped down in front of your family’s estate, illuminated for the night. Although smaller than your family’s country estate, the imposing white stone building had been your family’s ancestral seat for generations and held memories that you either held near and dear to your heart or buried in the darkest corners of your mind.

“Rest well, Henry.” You said and gave your footman a small smile. “You’ve worked hard.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Henry replied with a low bow before returning to the carriage.

Turning to face your home, the front doors opened, and a blanket of light from home illuminated the pathway before you. Almost immediately, a flurry of maids exited the building and made their way to you, wearing sheepish looks and emitting a cacophony of apologies for not greeting you properly. Walking into your home surrounded by bustling maids and butlers carrying your luggage, you took a deep breath and braced yourself for the mess that awaited you.

While a year ago, the sight of hundreds of lilacs would have brought tears of joy to your eyes, the pungent fragrance of your favorite flower that filled your bedroom made you nauseous the longer you remained. You raised a handkerchief to your face and picked up one of the dozens of turquoise name cards attached to the bouquets that, sure enough, had Toru Oikawa printed in gold.

Crumpling the name card, you turned to your maids. “Get these out of my sight. The smell is making me ill.”

The maids exchanged a confused look before one of them spoke up. “But, my lady, His Grace delivered these himself—”

“I’m well aware of that fact,” you replied, tossing the crumpled name card onto a bouquet. “But I still want them taken out immediately.”

“Y-yes, my lady, right away!”

As the maids went to work, a knock on the door caught your attention, and you found the head butler standing at the door. The sight was one you were accustomed to and, wordlessly, you approached the elder man already knowing what he’d say.

“Greetings, my lady. I hope your trip wasn’t too tiring.” He said with a slight bow

“I’m assuming father wants to see me?” You replied curtly.

“Yes, Lord L/N is waiting for you in his study. Please, allow me to escort you there.”

“There is no need for that. I will see myself there.” Noticing the weary look on his wrinkled face, you softened your tone. “You may retire for the night.”

After dismissing the butler and removing your travel coat and bonnet, you made your way to your father’s study on the other side of the manor. Standing outside the study, you straightened your dress and took a deep breath before knocking once on the large mahogany door.

“Come in,” a low voice rumbled from the other side, and you opened the double doors to reunite with your father.

The Count sat at a table instead of his desk and upon closer inspection, you noticed the array of pastries accompanied by a teapot and two cups. The refreshments caught you off guard, and you stood awkwardly trying to process the situation that was unlike any of the other meetings with your father.

While you were sure some fathers excessively doted on their daughters, the Count wasn’t one of them and only grew more distant after the death of your mother. He either remained locked away in his study or went on business trips. Family dinners happened only once a month, and even then, they were stiff affairs with him asking about your education and you replying with short answers. The only semblance of affection from him came in the form of gifts with short notes delivered to you by the head butler. It was in those notes that your father would awkwardly convey his affection by congratulating you on an academic achievement or wishing you a happy birthday.

“Sit, Y/N,” the Count stated gesturing to the chair across from him. “I had them prepare this fresh for your arrival.”

“Thank you,” you replied and took a seat, settling your hands on your lap.

The Count took a sip from his cup, and when you didn’t partake of the food, he let out an exasperated sigh.

“Must you make things so complicated from the get-go?”

Any fondness you felt at the sight of your father and the display he prepared for you dissipated the moment he uttered those disgruntled words.

“I apologize if my wanting of a respectful husband complicates things for you.”

Your thinly veiled anger was somewhat of a shock to your father, who had never been on the receiving end of it. He cleared his throat and replaced his surprise with a look of disapproval.

“Whatever happened a year ago, I am certain that Oikawa has thoroughly repented. He’s been visiting me over the past six months for news of you since you never replied to his letters. He even spent the entire day waiting for your return.”

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest while a harsh, derisive laugh ripped from your throat. “Yes, I’m sure the lucrative deal the two of you made had absolutely nothing to do with his visits. Tell me, father, how much more did he offer you?”

The Count averted his gaze and lightly shook his head. “You’ve changed so much I hardly recognize you. Was his transgression so great to turn you into this?”

“I doubt whatever I say will change your mind on the matter.” You replied coldly and took a bite from a cookie. “I just hope whatever he offered didn’t affect our agreement.”

He took another sip from his tea and fixed his gaze on you, his own face undecipherable. You steeled your resolve under his scrutiny and held your breath waiting for his answer.

“If you can find another alternative, be it via marriage or not, that will provide our family with the funds needed to get us back on our feet, I will do everything in my power to annul the engagement.”

You exhaled. “Thank y-”

“But you must receive him when he comes tomorrow,” the Count concluded, setting down his teacup.

You finished your cookie and stood up. “I already planned on it. Thank you for the dessert. I shall take my leave now.”

The Count nodded his approval and you sank into a curtsey before turning your heel and leaving your father’s study. Once outside, you leaned back against the large double doors, relishing your small victory against your father.

Despite being completely worn out from the trip, you tossed and turned in bed only managing a couple hours of sleep as thoughts of Toru filled your mind. While it was relatively easy to occupy your mind with other things during the day, he was a constant figure in your head at night that  always invaded your dreams.

Toru Oikawa still resided within your heart, whether you chose to admit it or not, and your father’s revelation of his visits during your time away proved it. It had been a fleeting sensation but your heart had wavered in that moment.

By the time the sun rose over the horizon, you had already bathed, dressed, and sat on your room’s balcony nibbling on a plate of fruit. It was all you could stomach while you waited for Toru’s impending arrival.

“Would you like me to style your hair, my lady?” The outspoken maid from the day before inquired hesitantly.

Raising a hand to your hair, you considered her suggestion for a moment before deciding against it. A year ago, you would have spent all morning primping for Toru’s visit, but the situation was different now, and there was no need for elaborate hairstyles.

“That won’t be necessary.”

You’d just finished your breakfast when you heard the faint whinnies of a horse that only grew louder. Rising from your seat, you were able to make out a male figure on horseback wearing a navy-blue tailcoat that approached your home. As the gentleman drew closer, his wind-swept brown hair came to view, and that was all you needed to verify his identity.

You wrung the cloth napkin in your hands before dropping it on your plate. “It seems we have a visitor to greet.”

The reunion between you and Toru was one that you’d played out in your mind many times over the course of the year. You’d memorized impassioned speeches and even practiced storming out of the room, yet nothing could have prepared you for the torrent of emotions that washed over you the moment you stepped into the drawing room where Toru waited.

He was on his feet as soon as you entered, tugging on his silver waistcoat as his eyes swept over your form. It had only been a year yet Toru seemed to have aged five. While still handsome, his boyish looks were gone and replaced with a weariness beyond his twenty-three years. Instead of the air of confidence he once gave off, the Toru before you appeared hesitant and—dare you say it—ashamed.

It wasn’t until his brown eyes locked onto yours that a glimmer of the light that used to radiate within his orbs appeared, and you felt your legs tremble with every step you took. A ragged breath left his lips that broke into a hesitant smile before he took a step forward that turned into another until he was able to take you into his arms.

“My love,” he breathed into the crook of your neck. “You’re back.”

You couldn’t breathe or move, as he tightened his hold around you. All you could do was stand there and feel every shallow breath he took as his entire body trembled against yours. He held you with a desperation that made your chest tighten and throat close up.

“I-I thought I lost you, Y/N,” Toru murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear to you that I’ll do everything in my power to make it all up. I’ll make you the happiest woman alive and you’ll never regret giving me this second chance. Oh, my love, I’m so happy you’re back that-”

Every word he spoke was like a needle poking and prodding at you until the pain became too much and you broke free from the trance you were in. A snarl ripped through your throat and you pushed Toru away with all of your strength.

“Let. Go!”

He stumbled backwards, steadying himself with a chair, and looked back at you as if you’d struck him across the face instead of breaking free from his suffocating hold. For a moment, you almost felt guilty for rejecting him when you saw the distress in his eyes, but the memory of his betrayal resurfaced and anger took ahold of you once more.

“You’re gravely mistaken if you think I have forgiven you, Your Grace. You and the Marchioness have shamed me in the worst possible way and I refuse to submit myself to a life of misery by your side. If I am meeting you today, it is only to put an end to this engagement. I’m sure you and your lover can find another girl to fool.”

Your voice quivered and tears stung your eyes, but you kept your head held high as the words tumbled out of your mouth like water bursting from a dam.

The color drained from Toru’s face as he stared at you aghast. His mouth opened and closed a multitude of times before it settled into a thin line. He tore his eyes from you, running a hand through his hair before a defeated sigh escaped him.

“You didn’t read my letters, did you?” He asked, facing you once again with the gleam of unshed tears in his eyes.

Your throat constricted painfully but you answered him anyway. “No, I didn’t and I refuse to do so. I’ve had enough of your lies and false proclamations of love-”

“I do love you!”

Toru’s declaration came out hurried, ragged, and desperate. It reverberated off the walls of the drawing room and echoed in your ears eliciting a shallow gasp from your trembling lips.

“I fell in love with you over the course of our courtship.” He admitted, gripping the back of the chair until his knuckles turned white. “It wasn’t what I expected. You...weren’t what I expected. Before I knew it, I found myself wanting to be by your side. You’re so beautiful, intelligent, and devoted and the moments I spent with you were the happiest I’d ever been in my entire life.”

“Why me?” You asked the question that had been on your mind for months, unable to wait any longer. “Why did you pick me?”

Toru’s shoulder’s drooped and dejection replaced desperation. “Your father’s title, your family name that is as old as the royal family itself, and your financial situation were all factors that singled you out as the best candidate.”

“Did…the Marchioness have any say in the matter?” Your voice was so quiet it wouldn’t have surprised you if he hadn’t heard it at all. There was a long silence and all you could hear was the drumming of your heart against your chest. Just when you were about to repeat the question, Toru spoke.

“She was the one that brought up your name.”

His words were like a slap to your face.

“Leave! At once! I cannot stand being in the same room with you.” You glared daggers at the man not caring if he was a duke and you the daughter of a mere count.

“Please allow me to explain the situation! It’s not what you think—”

“There is nothing to explain, Your Grace. Our relationship is over and if you don’t annul our engagement then I will find a way to do it myself.”

Your threat washed away the obstinacy in Toru’s eyes and a haunting hollow look glossed over them. His hand released the chair he’d been holding onto for the majority of your encounter, and he dragged his feet towards the door.

He surprised you by stopping beside you, and for a moment, you believed he would take you into his arms once again and beg you to forgive him. Only, he didn’t.

“Read the letters I sent you. They contain everything I’ve ever wanted to tell you. Only then will I agree to put an end to our engagement.”

His words haunted you throughout the day up until the evening when you sat at your desk and traced the turquoise seal on one of Toru’s letters. It would have been so easy to break the seals and read through the letters but the thought of falling prey to his pretty words stopped you.

The following morning, the plan to end your engagement and save your family from ruin started with a package from the investigator you hired back in the country. Within it you pulled out pages and pages of information on all of the families of the aristocracy. The reports included the names and ages of the members, the business endeavors of each of the families, and the properties they owned. Other details were also included like their financial status, list of acquaintances, and town gossip.

Over the course of a week, you were able to go through each report and compile a list of potential families you could strike up a deal with. The longer you delved into the background of every family on that list, the shorter said list became until one last name stood out amongst the rest—Kageyama.

According to the report, Viscount Kageyama had been successful in his business endeavors over the last couple of years and it was all thanks to his prodigal son. At the young age of twenty-one, Tobio Kageyama was racking up accomplishments left and right with no sign of slowing down. With a military background like his father, he was an excellent athlete and hunter and won almost all of the competitions he participated in. It was his eye for business ventures and investments, however, that caught your attention and made him a possible marriage candidate.

Over the past three years, he’d managed to turn his family’s failing businesses into prosperous ones and used those profits to invest in other groundbreaking ventures. That was the sort of advice you and your father needed to turn your debts into profits and it just so happened that Tobio wasn’t engaged to anyone.

You found that odd.

For a young man of his age with an acceptable family background and a natural talent for business to be without a fiancée was unheard of. The mothers of society would never let a man like him slip past their radars so you sought to find out why.

Rummaging through his family’s report, you searched for the list of acquaintances hoping to find a mutual one that might give you more information on him. Your eyes stopped on a last name that you’d recognized from an invitation to a tea party that would take place in two days’ time.

Turning away from the document, you called out to the outspoken maid that always seemed to be in the room when you needed her. “What is your name?”

“It is Akane, my lady.” She replied with a deep curtsey. “How can I be of service?”

You smiled, thoroughly pleased with how quick-witted she was. “Send word to the Yachi estate letting them know I will be attending Lady Hitoka’s tea party.”

Akane’s eyes flitted to the table then back to you before a small smile played on her lips. “Right away, my lady.”

Hitoka Yachi was somewhat of an outcast in polite society despite her caring and gentle personality. Her mother was an outspoken countess in her own right that had married for love and, and as a result, Hitoka was an heiress—something that was frowned upon by most. The two of you had bonded over the fact that you both had lost a parent at a young age; she had lost her father and you’d lost your mother.

Over the course of the year, you’d exchanged a letter here and there with Hitoka, and she’d been kind enough to reach out when you returned. While you initially hadn’t planned on attending social events until you’d broken your engagement, you figured rekindling your relationship with Hitoka while garnering information on her friend, Tobio, wouldn’t be too bad.

The day of the tea party, you dressed in a simple cotton dress with small flowers printed on the fabric and had Akane sweep your hair into a simple updo. Since the death of your mother, maids had come and gone under the head maid’s strict supervision, but none of them had stood out like Akane. You found her a smart and observant girl that worked as your eyes and ears around the estate. For that reason, you decided to keep her close and had her accompany you during your outing.

The Yachi’s manor was located in the outskirts of town and gave off the appearance of a large country home while less than an hour away from town. It was a beautiful home surrounded by gardens that, in the spring, bloomed exquisite flowers of all shapes, shades, and sizes.

You were escorted to the rose garden by one of the manor’s butlers where Hitoka and another young woman were already seated at a table filled to the edge with pastries, bite-sized sandwiches, fruits, and a porcelain teapot with matching cups and saucers.

“Y/N!” Hitoka exclaimed and leapt to feet and took your hands into hers. “Oh, it’s been far too long!”

“It’s nice to see you again, Hitoka,” you replied earnestly. “Thank you for your wonderful letters this past year. They were a great comfort to me.”

A pretty blush dusted her cheeks. “I’m glad my silly letters had such a wonderful effect.”

She drew you to the table where her other guest was standing by. Upon closer inspection, the young woman’s distinct black shining hair and stormy blue eyes triggered your memory and her name resurfaced just as Hitoka introduced you.

“Kiyoko, this Y/N L/N.” Hitoka said, gesturing to you. “Y/N, this is Kiyoko Sawamura.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Kiyoko.”

“Likewise, Lady Y/N.” She replied, her voice quiet but firm.

The three of you took your seats and Hitoka took the lead in the conversation cluing you in on what they’d been discussing. You caught a couple of words here and there but your main focus was on the woman to your left.

Three years ago at her debut, Kiyoko Sawamura had been declared a diamond of the first water by the Queen herself and had caused quite a stir amongst all of the eligible bachelors at the time. As the only daughter of the Duke of Karasuno, not only was she stunningly gorgeous but she came from a noble family whose wealth and power surpassed even that of the Oikawa’s. Her engagement to Yuji Terushima, heir to the Marquess of Johzenji, had been the announcement of the year—at least until the annulment three months later.

Rumors ran rampant that summer over what had actually happened but they all lead back to a cheating scandal involving Yuji and a maid from his household. Of course, Kiyoko faced the brunt of the ordeal since Yuji fled society like a coward along with his maid who ended up pregnant with his child, but she never succumbed to the pressure and kept her head held high with the support of her family. The last piece of gossip you’d heard regarding Kiyoko was that she’d found love with the son of Baron Tanaka.

To say you admired the woman was an understatement; she was everything you wanted to be but never could. Where she had braved society, you had fled to the country for a year like a coward.

Hitoka’s cheery voice broke through your cloud of dark thoughts. “…he’s been trying to get Tobio to attend more social events for the past two years, and he finally succeeded! Tobio will be attending Viscount Udai’s ball this Saturday.”

“I told you if anyone would be able to convince him it would be Shoyo. After all, they are best friends whether they admit it or not,” Kiyoko replied before taking a sip of her tea.

“Tobio Kageyama will be attending a ball?” You muttered, mostly to yourself but Hitoka heard you and responded.

“Yes! Are you acquainted with him, Y/N?”

“No, I am not,” you admitted sheepishly and made up an excuse on the spot. “My father mentioned him the other day and spoke of his achievements.”

“He is very talented when it comes to making money, but I just wish he would let people see the other sides of him. He’s actually a kind person underneath his gruff exterior,” Hitoka lamented before changing the course of the conversation.

“Will you also be attending the ball with His Grace?”

You plastered a smile on your face and prayed it looked genuine. “I’m not sure if Toru will be able to attend but I certainly plan on it.”

Despite your relationship with Hitoka, the real reason behind your leave wasn’t something you disclosed to her or anyone else for that matter. You had already dealt with enough ridicule from being Toru’s slighted fiancée and had no desire to add more fuel to the fire by revealing the details behind his betrayal.

“He must be awfully busy these days. It’s been months since he has attended any large social gatherings.”

Your friend’s revelation was shocking to say the least, and the smile on your face faltered. Kiyoko’s sharp gaze immediately zeroed in on your face, but her scrutiny only lasted a second before it was gone.

“Ruling over a duchy is no easy feat. My father is very strict with my brother’s education.”

“Oh, how is Daichi these days? I saw Yui the other day at the modiste and…”

Hitoka’s chatter faded into the background and her revelation of Toru’s absence in society echoed in your head. You had expected Toru to take advantage of your absence to the fullest and yet he hadn’t. A single thought amidst the storm in your mind stood out amongst the rest, and your heart wavered.

Maybe he’s truly become a changed man.

And yet, the cursed image that had been branded in your mind returned and dashed away that hopeful thought, replacing it with a more cynical one.

Or maybe he’s just showing his devotion to his true love, the Marchioness.

For the remainder of the gathering, your mind continued to drift to and from the conversation until the refreshments were cleared and the sun began to set. After bidding the ladies farewell, you returned to your carriage with Akane following closely behind you.

“Akane, do we still have some of the tea leaves I brought with me from the country?”

“Yes, my lady. I daresay there is enough to give away.” Akane replied and you smiled before turning to face your perceptive maid and ally.

“Good. Have some packed and sent to Lady Hitoka and Lady Kiyoko.” You paused before adding, “and save some for yourself. You’ve earned it.”

While you could have easily waited until the Viscount’s ball to be introduced to Tobio, time was of the essence and you needed to set your plan in motion prior to meeting him. If everything went as planned and Tobio proved to be receptive to an agreement—be it one of marriage or not—then the ball would be the perfect place to present your terms and come to a verbal agreement.

With that in mind, you started drafting a letter to Tobio introducing yourself as Hitoka’s friend and provided him with a brief outline of what you wanted, offered, and how it would benefit him and his family. You reread the letter thrice and debated including the possibility of a marriage between the two of you. From what you’d gathered, Tobio Kageyama was a straightforward man that valued honesty, so you added it in while making it clear that it would be one of mutual respect. You knew it was risky sending a letter to a man who was no better than a stranger but it was a risk you were willing to take.

The couple of days prior to the ball you spent preoccupying your mind with business and family matters to steer your mind away from Tobio’s pending reply. It wasn’t until a day before the ball that Akane interrupted you to bring you your correspondence. There was a sealed letter and one short message that you picked up and read without a second thought.

 I will not ask to escort you to Viscount Udai’s ball as I do not deserve that honor. I only ask that you not deny me the first dance as your fiancé.

Yours,

Toru

 As much as you dreaded the idea of being in the same social function as Toru, let alone dancing with him, you had appearances to keep up and would have to permit it for propriety’s sake. You tried not to dwell too much on his intimate farewell address and shifted your gaze to the sealed letter, which upon closer inspection, had the Kageyama family crest pressed into the navy-blue wax. With trembling fingers, you broke the seal and unfolded the paper, ever eager to read its contents.

 Lady Y/N,

I was very surprised when I read your letter simply because I did not know who you were. Now that I am more familiar with you and your family, I am interested in your offer and would like to speak with you more at Viscount Udai’s gathering.

Until then,

Tobio Kageyama

 A sigh of relief left your lips. Your gamble had paid off and Tobio was considering your offer. If you played your cards right during your meeting then it would only be a matter of time before you would be free of Toru Oikawa while saving your family.

Your eyes stole a glance at Toru’s note. While you should have tossed the note into the fire, your fingers ran over the dry ink until they stopped at the word before his name. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you took his note and placed it inside the wooden box that contained his other letters.

According to Akane, Viscount Udai’s ball was rumored to be the grandest event of the season and when you stepped out of your carriage with Henry’s help and peered up at the bustling and glowing manor, you found no fault in her statement.

The ballroom was brightly illuminated with chandeliers of glass. Curtains and elaborate tapestries of white and gold lined the walls. White flowers of all sorts hung from the ceilings, lined the doors, and wrapped around columns. The room was something out of a fairytale and the people that filled it had all dressed the part. Glancing around the room, you searched for a familiar face only to hear your name called.

“Y/N!”

Hitoka stood on the other side of the ballroom surrounded by Kiyoko and other gentlemen you didn’t recognize. One of the gentlemen turned his head in your direction and stopped when he saw you. Approaching the small party, your attention remained fixed on the man whose midnight blue eyes were glued to your face with an intensity that unnerved you.

Hitoka’s gloved hands reached out to yours and drew you into the circle of people. Now facing the gentleman, his gaze softened slightly before it shifted to Hitoka.

“Y/N, this is Tobio Kageyama. He’s the man I was telling you about the other day.”

Hitoka’s hand patted Tobio’s upper arm before addressing him. “Tobio, this is Y/N L/N. She’s the friend that just arrived from the country.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord.” You replied demurely and sank into a curtsey.

“Likewise, my lady.” Tobio’s reply was stiff but his bow was even stiffer and earned him an elbow to the ribs from the shorter man beside him.

Introductions to the other two gentlemen were made and you learned that the shorter man next to Tobio was none other than Shoyo Hinata, a famous jockey and son of a Baron. The man with a roguish grin next to Kiyoko turned out to be her fiancée, Ryunosuke Tanaka.

At that moment, the musicians took their seats and readied their instruments while the room exploded with young men and women finding their partners for the first dance. Your eyes swept over the room in a cursory glance, and to your relief, Toru was nowhere to be found.

Kiyoko and her fiancée left to the dance floor first. They were soon followed by Shoyo and Hitoka but not before the former shot Tobio a pointed look and gestured over to you with a tilt of his head. You found the jockey’s not-so-subtle indication amusing but played off having seen anything. Tobio cleared his throat and you turned your head to face him.

“May I have this dance, my—”

“No, you may not.”

Toru’s voice rang out from behind you. It had a hard-edged quality to it that you’d never heard and sent shivers down your spine. Before you could turn around, his hands settled on your hip and hand. The intimacy of the gesture left you stunned and unable to reject him.

“My fiancée has already promised me her first dance.”

Toru’s warm breath tickled your exposed neck and set your face aflame. Tobio shifted his weight and the action garnered your attention. His brow was furrowed as his eyes searched yours for an explanation you couldn’t give him.

Still in your stupor, Toru drew you away to the dance floor. You opened your mouth to say something but the music started and the couples around you bowed and curtseyed in greeting before they began to move.

The muted chatter around you, the soft music in the background, and Toru’s eyes, darker than usual, drinking in your appearance left you speechless. He looked as handsome as ever in his black tailcoat, golden waistcoat, tousled chocolate brown locks, straight nose, and a pink inviting mouth. Completely mesmerized by him, any ill-will you bore him became non-existent. You drowned in his dangerous pools of brown that disarmed you and left you bare. His touch burned through the fabric of your dress and gloves, branding you with his hands.

It was like the first time you ever danced with him only it wasn’t. Where butterflies had once fluttered about in your stomach, waves of something now swirled within you and pooled at your core. It was terrifying and yet you wanted more. So when the piece came to an end and Toru’s ragged breath fanned on your face, you tilted your head hoping he would close the gap.

Except he didn’t. You didn’t let him because across the room was the face of the last person you wanted to see—the Marchioness.

Her face held no malice as she watched you but she looked almost relieved and it shook you to your core.

“My love.” Toru’s voice came out as a hoarse whisper. “W-what is it?”

You didn’t answer him. Your eyes remained fixed on the marchioness. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly before turning towards one of the doors. She took three steps before turning back to face you and then she continued until she disappeared from the ballroom.

Toru reached for your hand but you side-stepped him and dashed out of the room; your name blending in with the music and chatter the further you got.

The corridors were dimly lit compared to the ballroom but you could still make out the marchioness’s silhouette in the distance. Her pale face turned to you before walking further away and entering a room. You bounded down the hallway until you reached the room and found the marchioness standing before a large French window. The room was dark except for the moonlight that spilled in and illuminated the center of the room.

“Close the door.”

You hesitated before reaching for the double doors and pushing them until you heard a click. Turning around you found the marchioness already watching you. She was as beautiful as ever with her porcelain skin, golden curls styled fashionably, and rosebud mouth. Her cat-like eyes softened in a way you’d never seen before—not even when she pretended to be your friend and ally.

“Why did you appear before me? What do you want?”

“Technically you appeared before me. This is my home after all,” She replied, a hint of mirth in her voice.

You staggered back. “W-what do you mean?”

“I remarried and am now Viscountess Udai.”

“I-I don’t…why?” Your feet took you forward until you were an arm’s length away from her. “What about Toru? I saw you with him…the two of you…that day.”

She sighed and turned her head, fixing her eyes on the wooden desk beside her. “That is the reason I had you follow me here. It’s high time I confess my sins to you.”

Her eyes looked back at you and the whirlwind of emotions swirling in them left you stunned. In the months you got to know her you knew her to be a charming but cold woman, so seeing her so vulnerable shook you to your core.

“Since I was a girl, I had always envied Toru. He had two parents that adored him and did everything in their power to ensure his happiness. My parents were the exact opposite and sold me off to the highest bidder when I was just sixteen. My late husband was a beast of a man that was forty years my senior. He had poor health but an even worse temper and wouldn’t hesitate to beat me until I passed out from the pain. It was then that Toru lost his parents in an accident, and I started to use him to make myself feel better. I tried manipulating him into thinking I was the only person who could be by his side. That I could be his friend, lover, and family. It worked for a while but when Toru started drifting away from my hold…”

Her voice that had been growing thicker with emotion broke down. Sobs wracked from her body as she slipped off her black lace glove. Under the moonlight you could make out pale scars on the underside of her forearm.

“I started to hurt myself and that kept him by my side until he met you.”

Your chest tightened painfully and tears stung your eyes but you didn’t let them fall.

“He needed a wife to fulfil his mother’s wish and I picked you for him. I believed he would remain loyal to me, but I was wrong. Day by day, Toru fell more in love with you and left me behind. When he received your father’s blessing to officially propose, I was so desperate to hold on to him that I lied to him. I promised to let him go after your marriage if he neglected you during your engagement. But that night in the garden, he declared his unyielding love for you, and I did everything I could to kill that love.”

She wiped away her tears while you let yours fall. She took a couple of deep breaths whereas a ball lodged itself inside your throat and blocked the air.

“I dare not ask for forgiveness. I only ask that you not blame Toru for my sins.”

Unable to utter a word, you managed a solemn nod before turning your heel and leaving the room. The darkness of the corridor left you hollow, the noise from the ballroom rang painfully in your ears, and the air around you was stifling. Everything about the place was suffocating, so instead of returning to the ball, you rounded the corner and left.

Upon exiting your carriage, you ignored everyone and bounded up the stairs to your bedroom before locking the door and forbidding entry for anyone. Heaving from the exertion, you lunged for the wooden box on your nightstand and set it on your desk with a thud. After taking a seat, you lit a candlestick and took out the first of twelve letters.

With trembling hands, you finally broke the turquoise seal and unfolded the paper to read Toru’s side of the story.

After you read the letters once, you sobbed into your hands until the candlestick burned out. You reread them and cursed yourself for being so oblivious—so blind—to the pain in his heart. The third time, your heart swelled with affection for your father who did everything he could to ensure you would be happy with Toru prior to allowing the proposal to take place. The fourth time, you pulled out a piece of paper and wrote to Tobio rescinding your offer and offering your most sincere apologies. By the time you finished rereading the twelfth letter for the fifth time, the birds outside were chirping signaling dawn.

You stood up abruptly and glanced out the window to find the rose-colored light of the sun’s rays peeking over the horizon.

I have to see him.

After washing your face, you discarded your ball gown in favor of a simple cotton dress and a woolen shawl. You picked up the letter addressed to Tobio and opened the door.

Akane, who had evidently been sleeping at your door, tumbled backwards and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“Oh! A-apologies, my lady, but I waited to see if you needed anything and…”

You crouched down and helped the girl up to her feet. “Thank you, Akane, for everything you do. You are my most treasured ally.”

Her caramel-colored eyes welled up with tears that she wiped away with her sleeve. “H-how can I help you, my lady?”

You handed her the letter. “Have this sent to the Kageyama estate as soon as possible. Also let my father know that I will not be cancelling my engagement.”

Akane’s eyes lingered on your coat and a smile played on her lips as she replied, “right away, my lady.”

Outside the confines of your home, you breathed in the cool morning air and bolted down the white stone steps, setting off for Toru’s estate. Trudging through the grass and kicking up the rocks of your front lawn, you were full of energy despite not having slept a wink. The negative emotions that had weighed you down since your engagement were lifted and all you could think about was Toru. You wanted to drink in the sight of him, touch his face, run your fingers through his hair, and wrap your arms around him never to let go.

Your front gate eventually came to view, but before that, the backside of a man standing near your family’s fountain appeared and your breath caught in your throat.

Tall, broad shoulders underneath a black coat, and wind-swept brown hair, you knew who it was before he turned around.

Toru’s velvet brown eyes widened and his lips parted at the sight of you. He looked perfectly disheveled in his plain white shirt, unbuttoned, and exposing his chest, and grey trousers that looked like they’d seen better days. Like a moth to a flame, you drew closer until he was in front of you.

“I-I had to see you,” he admitted. “You disappeared from the ball and—”

“She told me…what actually happened.”

His eyes widened. “I must tell you—”

You reached for his hands, not able to hold back any longer. “You already have.” You brushed your thumbs against his knuckles and felt his pulse quicken. “I read your letters…multiple times.”

“I’m sorry, truly,” he breathed.

“I know, and I’m sorry as well. I should’ve given you a chance to explain. I should’ve read them sooner.” You released his hands and stared into his eyes, lips trembling. “If I’m too late an—”

His mouth descended upon yours in a kiss that silenced the words on your tongue. His oh-so- soft lips felt like satin on yours and you melted into his arms that wrapped around you and drew you closer to him. The swirling heat in your core returned and you wrapped your arms around his back, eager to see where the sensation led you.

Toru broke away from the kiss first, leaning his forehead against yours and taking in shallow ragged breaths. A whine escaped your lips and the embarrassing noise set your cheeks aflame. Toru laughed and pressed a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Patience, my love. We have the rest of our lives for this.” He assured you and drew you into a loving embrace.

His sweet words sounded like a promise to your ears and tears of joy prickled your eyes from simply imagining your future with Toru, the man you loved and had never stopped loving.

[serenityseventeen]

Dino (이찬):

----------------

“Man in a Movie: Epilogue”

synopsis: A follow-up on your dream and your relationship with Chan.

parts: one | two | three | four | epilogue

genre: established relationship, fluff, CEO au

characters: CEO!chan x reader, ft. front desk clerk!joshua

word count: 1.788k

a/n: yesterday's in the soop episode left me almost sobbing because of how wholesome it was- it makes me wonder if their song-making process is always that simple, fun, and lovely. It was so heart-warming to watch them welcome kwan back and work on the song together. <3 + this is basically a foreshadow to the spin-off + gif creds: @24hoursofdaisy

---------------

Chan slid a card on the front desk to Joshua.

“What is this?” Joshua asked, puzzled by the sudden movement of Chan. He stared at the card on the table and it took him a few seconds to realize that the smooth card with a small dinosaur on it was one of Chan's business cards.

Chan smiled and leaned one side of his body against the counter proudly. “It's my scouting team's business card. Give them a call if you ever want to try out being an actor.”

“An actor?” Joshua stared down at the card.

Joshua never had a goal in his life. There was nothing he really wanted to achieve aside from happiness. He just found himself working and enjoying the moments he spent with his friends. At times, he would envy Y/N, who had a clear dream in her life. He would also envy Jeonghan, who wanted to one day own a hotel just like the one he was working at.

“You can try it out, maybe have it as a side job if you want. If you do join, I'll let you have a cameo appearance in one of the dramas or movies I'm working on,” Chan shrugged and smiled. “You can decide, of course. I won't chase you down to the ends of the earth, begging a handsome man like you to audition to become an actor when you probably have no experience.”

Chan couldn't deny his gut that was telling him, ‘If you don't scout Mr. Hong, you'll regret it for the rest of your life.’ So, the day before he returned to his company, he gave Joshua a business card.

“Have a safe trip, Mr. Lee,” Joshua finally said, letting the card rest on the smooth, wooden counter. He would consider the job but he didn't have much of a passion for acting. He did, however, immensely enjoy Chan's movies and dramas.

“Don't call me that, just call me Chan. You're my hyung after all, right?”

Chan smiled and Joshua smiled too.

Once Chan left for the airport, Joshua found himself staring at the card. He didn't know how to act at all. If anyone, Jeonghan would be the one who knew how to act as he was a master at telling lies, being able to cover his tracks with his expressions.

Even so, Joshua kept staring at the card.

With his long fingers, he touched the surface of the card, gently sliding it across the counter closer to him. He was finally able to read the tiny letters on the card.

There was silence in the empty lounge.

Joshua slipped the card into the pocket of his black suit once the phone at the edge of the front desk began to ring angrily, with another customer on the end, waiting to complain over the slightest thing.

- [one year later]

HEADLINES: CEO OF DINO FILMS TO COLLABORATE WITH FIANCE, CEO OF NARA CAMERA WORKS ON ROMANCE FILM STARRING ROOKIE RISING ACTOR JOSHUA HONG

Dino Films CEO, Lee Chan, announces that he and the company would be working with his fiancé, Y/N, the CEO of Nara Camera Works on their upcoming drama series, ‘Down in Lounge Bar’, starring the rookie rising actor, Joshua Hong, who made his debut half a year ago with a cameo appearance in the drama ‘EIGHT-TEEN’.

Many people are familiar with Dino Films, as it is a movie, animation, and drama producing company that is loved worldwide after the movie ‘Danceology’ became a huge hit worldwide. However, Nara Camera Works may not be so heard of.

Nara Camera Works is led by Y/N, who dreamt of being a camera director. The company released their first short film, ‘Cause and Effect’, starring Kwon Soonyoung, and immediately became an internet buzz. After that, the company, and CEO Y/N has participated in the making of various music videos, short films, and assisted many dramas. ‘Down in Lounge Bar’ would be her, and the company's first large project. On the other hand, this would be Dino Films' second project after signing with INNEX Productions and TV cable Solarium last year.

Aside from the production companies, this is what we have so far about the drama. It is estimated to air in early spring next year. The drama is a modern romance drama that revolves around a popular hotel, which is also rumored to be the hotel in which Lee Chan and Y/N first met. The drama is about a young woman and man in their mid-twenties. They both are looking for peace and have troubled pasts that they are waiting to overcome. The story would unfold in a touching way that melts the hearts of the viewers but at the same time, brings comfort to all of the conflicts in the world. CEO Lee Chan has specifically addressed that the drama does its best to represent many flaws within the world's system, economy, and society. Aside from the information above, not much has been released about the upcoming series, and there is no official synopsis yet.

Is anyone else excited for this collaboration?

While waiting, for the upcoming year, check out Nara Camera Works' latest short film starring one of her barista friends and his lover, ‘Starry Sea and Peachy Blossoms’. It is reported that the actor in this short film is Y/N's friend, and is a real barista who works at the hotel where the new drama is going to take place.

You smiled and found yourself staring at the spotless blue sky, letting the warm summer wind that had finally come around again brush past your nose softly. Your hand held your phone that had the news article opened. You didn't know if you were the luckiest woman on Earth or if all your work had paid off.

About a month after Chan left, you began your company. Using all of the money that you saved up, you bought yourself proper equipment. Of course, you couldn't do the work alone, so with the willing help of Joshua, Jeonghan, and Wonwoo, on your days off, you four helped smaller artists film music videos at low but adequate prices.

The business was slow at first, and you would have to constantly beg artists and companies to let you be the one to film their Music videos. Chan had also been a huge help along the way because he helped supervise and look over the final draft of the short film you two worked on with Soonyoung. Once that short film was uploaded, it gained a moderate amount of views from critics and the general public. Chan had also been so proud of you, his girlfriend, that he shared the video to his social media.

Slowly but surely, you began getting more offers to film music videos, assist in the making of short films, movies, and dramas. Once Nara Camera Works began to grow, you began walking around the world, meeting youthful and elderly people that had the same dream as you, wanting to work with cameras and film, and some of them, you took into your hands.

Now, here you were, in front of the hotel, where it all started. The building was still standing tall with many windows and a large LED sign. A whiff of nostalgia entered your heart as the memories of the hotel swarmed your head.

Even during your busy career, you always made time to go back to the hotel, even more than your small, cramped apartment that you still hadn't moved out of.

You kept in touch with all of your friends, including Joshua, who was also having a career-related turning point in his life.

Last month, you visited the hotel for a week to help film a music video but found yourself filming Wonwoo and his crush, who was surprisingly, a guest at the hotel around a year ago. You immediately remembered them as the person who ordered tea every morning, since that person was the only person you remembered Wonwoo having a crush on. So, inspired, you decided to show the world of the lounge bar.

Now, you were at the hotel again, but it was going to be different.

You had, in your hands, a large maroon briefcase, packed with your clothes, laptop, and equipment. This time, it was your team that was staying at the hotel, for an indefinite amount of time. It wasn't just your team, but there were going to be actors, actresses, and another team.

Just then, while feeling the wind against your closed eyelids, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You immediately smiled. It had been around a year since you and Chan began dating, but despite being apart, you could remember his touch like it was engraved on the back of your hand.

You opened your eyes and turned around, immediately jumping into his arms with a large smile. You could tell that Chan wanted to say something, but you didn't give him the time to. When you jumped into his arms, he found himself smiling euphorically and squeezing you tight instead of thinking of words to say.

Chan spun you, who had your arms tightly around his shoulders and your head by his, around, with a smile on his face. He wanted to tell you just how much he missed your sweet fragrance, and yell at you about how much he missed your loveliness.

Again, you didn't let him speak, because your lips couldn't resist landing onto his. After a year of kisses being sent through a screen, you two were finally able to feel each other again.

You didn't want to let him go and Chan didn't want to let you go either. His hands were holding your legs, keeping you on him like a koala on a tree. Your graceful fingers brought his cheeks closer and you shared another sweet kiss with Chan before letting both of your noses touch.

“I missed you so much,” Chan said, smiling. “Want to move in with me?”

You laughed at the sudden question, your hands still caressing his smooth cheeks.

“What?? I'm serious!”

“I don't think I can spend another second without you anymore,” You replied, pecking him again before burying your head in his shoulder, hugging him tightly. “It was so hard making a path to walk on.”

Chan smiled and kissed you again.

“Move in with me after we finish filming. I can hire someone to sell your apartment unit for you. Come live with me.”

“I can't just do that, this is my home.”

Chan couldn't stop grinning, hearts were shooting out of his eyes as your foreheads bumped against each other gently.

“Fine, then, I'll move in with you.”

---------------

© serenityseventeen

time finished: 9/12/21

[drakenology]

I Hate Everything About You - Dabi

warnings: ANGST, smut, daddy kink, mentions of rape,violence, AND swearing (cause im a potty mouth)

author’s note: this lil story is inspired by my favorite song I Hate Everything About You by Three Days Grace. im a lil emo bitch ok? I recommend listening to the song to get a better perspective of how the emotions of the lyrics and the story goes hand in hand. the chorus goes like “I hate everything about you. why do i love you?” and I immediately thought of something angsty and raw to write. hope yall enjoy! this one might be a little long.

summary: You and Dabi have worked together as villians for as long as you can remember but you two don’t get along at all. is this truly hatred or is this repressed feelings coming to surface?

You hated heroism. You viewed it as weak and meaningless. When both of your parents were murdered by an anonymous killer and no one came to their rescue when they could very well have been saved, something dark took over your spirit. You snapped. At the tender age of 17, your parents did not receive justice for the act of violence committed against them. The police told you there “wasn’t enough evidence” and that the killer had most likely killed himself.

There were simply too many holes in the case for it to be solved. Obviously this infuriated you. So much in fact that you planned to blow up the entire police precinct.

And you did.

Now being on the run at only 17 you fell into a life of crime, committing yourself to being a villain who killed police officers off duty earning yourself the villain name “Cop Killer” from the authorities. Not to mention your very dangerous quirk called “Leech”. You were able drain anyone you gazed at of their blood, the gaze having to be completely focused on the person’s eyes. Once concentrated enough it becomes hard for the person to look away from you. To trigger your quirk, you have to say the word “leech” in order to essentially stop the flow of someone’s blood to their heart; their blood being extracted from their veins to yours. The blood only made your quirk stronger as you can now manipulate it and use it in combat. You had enough control to where you could take a little or take it all. The stolen blood was also good for increasing your stamina and speed for a short period, manifesting a weapon with the blood you stole and of course leeching the person of their blood entirely, instantly killing them. The murders you committed granted you the number one spot of Japan’s wanted list. You were also the youngest assasin in Japan at the time so you had to move around a lot. You spent your teenage years living in abandoned buildings and sketchy motels; robbing, stealing and of course murdering for survival.

The day you met the League of Villains was your 23rd birthday. As a treat to yourself, you had cornered one of the dirtiest cops you had ever encountered. He was a known sex trafficker, a thief as well as a disgusting rapist. You had him right where you wanted him; wearing a disguise to hide your true visage in order to avoid being recognized. You had pretended to be a love interest to the cop, sitting in the seedy hotel room he rented to have a little “privacy” with you.

“Oh baby, you don’t know what you do to me. I wanna see that pretty little mouth of yours around my cock. Get on your knees for me.” The police man said, the sleazy bastard unbuckling his belt. You nod, secretly being disgusted by this man. But you had to keep your cool. You got down on your knees and took his hard cock into your hands and pumped, looking him directly in the eyes as you did so.

“Yeah, baby. You’re so hot.” He groaned, keeping his eyes locked on yours almost instinctively as sweat collected on his brow.

“Thanks.. but your time’s up, you sick fuck.” you say, standing up on your feet. You straddle him, watching the cop’s eyes become terrified as he finally realizes who you really are.

“Leech.” You say as you watched your quirk take effect. The reaction was instant as he starts to gasp and grab at his heart, clinging onto his last minutes of life as he died on the hotel bed. You moan as his blood is transferred into yours, creating a dagger out of his blood. You slice his neck, licking whatever was left off of his cold throat. You laugh, searching his dead body to take whatever he had on his person; money, personal possessions and his gun. Just as you’re about to get up and leave you get the feeling that you aren’t alone. You turn and see none other than the villain you had seen all over local news.

Shigaraki. 

He chuckles dryly, admiring your work at killing the cop underneath you.

“Well done, little girl.” He said, peering over your shoulder to get a good look at the mess you made of him. You go to ask how the hell he got into the room until you hear the sound of police sirens blaring outside. 

“We have the entire hotel surrounded. There are Heros on the way to assist us. Surrender now or face the consequences.” You hear the cops say on a megaphone.

“Shit.” You mumble, quickly grabbing your things; planning your escape in your head.

“Listen, I’ve admired your work since your attack on that police station, Cop Killer.” Shigaraki said. “We could use someone like you in the League of Villains. My friend Kurogiri here can get us both out of here in one piece. But only with your consent of course.”

You think for a moment. You’d rather make a smooth escape than risk being arrested. So you agree. 

“We’ll explain everything once we get back to base.” Kurogiri says, morphing himself through the cracks of the door. 

Kurogiri takes both you and Shigaraki and consumed you both into his portals, leading you to the secret hide-out of the League of Villains. You look around, your vision a little hazy from being in the dark portal. You see a few other people standing in the lobby. A guy with a weird mask on with two sides on it eagerly introduced himself as Twice. You see a cute girl that looked a little young to be in a place like this. 

“Toga Himiko. Nice to meet ya. Hey, you’re way prettier in person. The police drawing of you is really unflattering.” She says, waving at you. You smile meekly as you turn away to see this guy standing at the corner of the bar. He had burn scars all over his face and neck, dark hair and the most mysterious eyes you’ve ever seen. You met his gaze when you noticed him staring at you, sizing you up. You found his stare threatening and kind of alluring. You almost couldn’t look away. 

“Don’t stare at me for too long, Cop Killer. I know what those eyes can do.” He said sarcastically, not even caring to introduce himself. He felt familiar, like you’ve known him for a long time. You rolled your eyes and walked over to Shigaraki. 

“Look, if you think just because you got me out of a tight spot that I’m just gonna beg to work for you, you’re wrong. I work alone.” You said, adjusting the top of your outfit. 

“I know. But today that changes. You see, we’ve been watching you, Cop Kill-” He says, interrupted by your loud groan.

“My name is Y/N. Please just call me by my name. My mother didn’t name me Cop Killer.” You demand, folding your arms in protest. 

“But that’s what you are, Y/N. Don’t be ashamed.” Shigaraki says, inching closer to you. “Look, the services of the League of Villains aren’t free. We helped you. Now you help us. You understand don’t you, Y/N?” 

You sigh, wishing you had just leapt out of a nearby window back at the hotel instead of taking help from this creep. 

“Fine.” You say, looking down at your shoes. 

“Wonderful.” Shigaraki says, walking away from you. “Oh and one more thing. I hate back talkers.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few months pass and you’re well acquainted with all the villains of the organization. You were all usually partnered up for missions; you always alternating between Toga and Dabi, who had finally told you his “name”. You grew to be pestered by Dabi. You’d much rather be paired up with Toga than Dabi any day since you and Dabi just could not get along, you both arguing like an old married couple at every mission. You couldn’t stand him. His cockiness, his elitist attitude, his aloofness. He hated you because of your attitude, you thinking you knew better than everyone else. He thought you were a spoiled brat who hasn’t done anything remarkable to even earn a spot in the League. To you, he was everything you despised about some men. 

One night you were all playing a friendly game of Blackjack; which seemed to be a ritual between the members. Shigaraki didn’t bother playing but Kurogiri always seemed to watch. 

“Ugh.. Fold. What do I have to do to get a decent fucking hand, huh?” Twice said, his two voices seeming to contrast in differing personality. You laugh, slamming down a perfect hand worth 21. 

“I stand, bitches.” You say, winning yet another round. 

“I’m bored.” Dabi says, standing up and leaving the table. 

“Oh don’t be like that, Dabi. Come back!” Toga says, throwing her cards down. She sighs and stands up from the table. “Well, I guess that’s it. I’m goin to bed. Nighty night, Y/N. Twice.” Everyone went their separate ways. You walk into your room and change into something more comfortable and walk outside to get some air. To your dismay, Dabi was already standing outside in the same spot you liked to chill and think. 

“Yo.” He says, referring to you. You roll your eyes and walk over to him. 

“What?” You say, annoyed to the point where you just want to turn around and go back inside. 

“Aw, what’s wrong, Cop Killer? Don’t like me?” He asks, inching closer to you to whisper in your ear. You stand still for a moment and lunge at him, grabbing his throat and pushing him against the wall. 

“Stop fucking testing me.” You say sternly, looking him deeply in the eyes with the intention to kill. 

“Careful, little girl. You might just turn me on.” He says, grabbing your arm and pushing you back. You freeze, stunned at the sudden harsh movement from the tall man in front of you. ”You’re 5′4′’, sweetheart. If I wanted to, I could end you without even using my quirk. You ‘oughta be nicer to me.” 

You get angrier by the second, yelling and screaming about how much you hate him all while trying to take jabs at him, throwing punches at his face. Dabi dodges every swing, smirking at your abilities. He was impressed, but he’d never tell you that. 

“Huh. Keep it up and you might actually hit me.” He teased, swinging back at you, landing right on your jaw. You stumble and collect yourself, charging towards him once more. You were certain you’d hit him, the blood from someone you’ve killed earlier that day increasing your speed. 

“Fuck you.” You hiss, taking another swing at him and connect, landing right on his cheek. He smirks, wiping blood from his mouth. You get cocky and go for another punch only for him to dodge you. He grabbed your arm and twisted it, pinning you against the brick wall in front of him with your back facing him. 

“When?” He asked in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You hated that he could so easily overpower you, making you despise him even more. He releases you from his grip and stands close to you; you feeling the warmth of his skin radiating from his body. 

“Listen. You hate me and quite frankly I can’t stand you either. But you don’t see me attacking you. Try it again and I won’t be so nice next time, little girl.” Dabi said, grabbing your face to daringly look into your poisonous eyes to mock your quirk. You focus, ready to end this asshole. Suddenly his lips crash into yours. At first, you’re disgusted and fucking pissed. But then you feel yourself start involuntarily melting into his kiss. So you kiss him back with no shame, all bitter feelings leaving your mind as the kiss gets more intense. You feel his hands groping and caressing your body, his hands exploring to stop at your neck; wrapping it around. You gasp, feeling yourself get hot. 

“The first time I saw you, I thought you were the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. And then you spoke. And I couldn’t stand you. But I couldn’t shake this feeling of wanting to bend you over and punish you for your slick mouth. You need a good hard dicking to keep your mouth shut and I’m the one to give it to you. That’s what you want too, isn’t it?” He asked, starting to kiss your neck harshly. You moan, embarrassed at his words. He was right. You found him attractive as soon as you saw him but his attitude rubbed you the wrong way. But right here and now, you realize that you might have been hiding your true feelings behind a façade of hatred. You wanted him too and you couldn’t stand it. 

“I’m talking to you, Y/N.” He persists, biting into your neck. You mewl, shocked at how good he was making you feel. You almost couldn’t believe you were in this situation. It was confusing but formalities could come later. You wanted him now. 

“Yes, Dabi. I wanted you to fuck me the first time I saw you.” You say quietly, feeling him reach under your shirt and bra to grab at your naked breast. You bit your lip, feeling slick pool between your legs as you fall victim to his touch. 

“Get inside and go in my room. I expect you to have nothing on when I get there. Understood?” He demands, pinching your nipple lightly. You gasp, nodding at his request. 

“Words. You’ve already made me angry with that stunt you pulled punching me in the face. I wouldn’t try me further.” He said, grabbing your hair and pulling it to expose more of your neck. You moan, unable to control yourself suddenly. It’s like he knew exactly what to do to turn you on. Fucking asshole.

“Y-Yes, daddy- I-I mean Dabi.” You flush. Damn. You couldn’t believe you let that slip. He laughs, kissing your lips once more as he lets you go. 

“Daddy works just fine.” Dabi says smirking, watching you stumble towards the door to go back inside. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You knew you should just go into your own room but, God you wanted to see what he’d do to you for almost punching him. You wondered how rough he’d be, your panties soaking at the thought as you gulp and open his room door. You sat on his bed and took off your clothes, leaving your underwear on to tease him. Suddenly his door opens and it’s him. He looked you up and down, loving what he saw. But to his dismay you had on too many clothes still. 

“I thought I told you to get naked, little girl.” Dabi said, pushing you onto his bed. He stood above you, running his fingers down your stomach and stopping at the waistband of your panties. You shudder at his cold fingers. 

“You never said naked.” You tease, looking back at him. He frowns, shaking his head. 

“Man, you just love pushing my buttons don’t you? You’re gonna regret teasing me so much.” He says, pulling your panties down roughly, holding them up to his face. He smirked at the wet spot he saw on them, throwing them onto the ground. “This is gonna be fun.”

You hiss as he slid one measly finger inside you while rubbing your bundle of nerves with his thumb, the single finger not being enough to satisfy your craving for that certain pleasurable stretch. Somehow though, Dabi was making you feel good with that one finger. You roll your hips for more friction only to have Dabi hold you down with his other hand. 

“Stop squirming so much. It makes you look desperate, doll.” He teased earning a whine from you. As if to be a little forgiving he adds another finger, watching your face twist up in pleasure. You were visually trying to hide your moans, Dabi not liking that at all. 

“Come on now. It’s no fun if you don’t scream for me. Let everyone here know how good I make you feel.” He said, halting his movements. You nod, moaning loudly as he adds a third finger. Any shame or embarrassment is gone as he worked you up to your first orgasm. You grab at his sheets, trying to move for more friction only to once more be overpowered by Dabi. 

“You don’t listen too well do you? I said stop squirming. You’ll have your fill but good girls wait to cum. Understand? I expect you to address me correctly this time.” He says, grabbing your face to make you look at him. Something about knowing you could kill him with your eyes turned him on, because he knew he could keep you from doing so. All he had to do was please you, knowing you won’t be able to focus on anything but screaming his name let alone his eyes. 

“Y-Yes daddy.” You mewl, your eyes rolling back as he pulled out one of your breasts, sucking on your nipple harshly. The sound of your moans was music to Dabi’s ears, the only thing he ever wanted to hear come out of your mouth. He cooed praises into your ear, telling you hot sexy you are and how et your pussy is just for him. He crawls on top of you, pulling his fingers out of you as you whine at the sudden loss. He kissed you, ripping your bra off. He sat up and stared at the gorgeous naked woman underneath him. 

“You’re so hot when you’re not talking shit.” He says, playing with your boobs. He was unsure of where to start. He wanted to please every inch of your lovely curves, his eyes drinking in your hips up to your beautiful breasts. He nearly drooled at the sight of them, your nipples seeming to perk up when he looked at them. You stare back at the man on top of you, his scars almost complimenting his skin as you watched him take off his shirt. You bit your lip as you feel a nice sized bulge grind up against your dripping core. You didn’t even notice that his pants were off, drooling at the sight of his body overpowering yours. He grinded up against you, leaning in close to your ear. 

“Ready to get fucked, sweetheart?” He asked, nibbling on your ear lobe. 

“Yes, god, yes!” You gasp, feeling him take off his boxers. He positioned his dick at your entrance, tapping it against you to tease you. You moan, going to grab his cock and shove it inside you but you think twice, already in trouble with him. Dabi smirks, excited to break you as he shoved himself inside you and started to rut his hips into you. You moan sinfully at the sudden stretch, loving how he filled you. You feel him speed up, not even fully adjusted to his length as you clawed at his back for dear life. 

“You’re takin me so well, doll.” He said, grabbing your neck to lightly choke you. Your eyes roll back as you reveal a sinful ahegao face while he pounds you senseless. You’re moaning his name and telling him how good he feels inside you, cussing and screaming into the air as you feel yourself coming close to cumming.

“C-Can I-?” You ask, unable to finish your sentence as you feel yourself clenching around him. Dabi is relentlessly prodding at your g-spot, causing you to see stars as he notices he’s hitting that special spot. He smirks and angles himself so that he’s repeatedly hitting that spot, watching you cover your mouth as you scream. He snatched your hand away from your mouth and pinned it above your head. 

“Tell me you’re sorry for punching me, kitten.” He demands, harshly pinching your nipples. You shake your head no to tease him. “No? Must need more convincing, huh brat?” He pulls out of you, you letting out a pathetic sob at the loss. He roughly flips you on your stomach and plants a hard smack on your ass. You yelp, your pussy aggravated as it throbs at the feeling of pleasure. He yanks you towards him and shoves himself back inside you, you laying flat on your stomach. You kick and scream under him, feeling him so deep it blinds you. 

“Oh my god, daddy!” You whine, shoving your face into your pillow as he assaults your g-spot. 

“Say it.” He demands, landing another hard smack on your ass this one sure to leave a mark. 

“I-I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry!” You scream, desperate for release. 

“Good girl.” He hisses. Dabi grabs your hair and lifts your head off the pillow wanting to hear the last moans you can give before you cum. 

“Go ‘head and cum for me. You’ve earned it.” He says. And just like that you clench around him hard, your orgasm washing over your body as you cum all over his dick. He rides out your orgasm, only to continue pounding you earning a sharp yelp from you as you throw your head into the pillow again.

“You didn’t think it was over did you? That’s cute.” He said, taking you further. At this point you’re overstimulated, the pleasure almost painful as he worked you to another orgasm. 

“God, I love you!” You scream to his delight as you cum quicker than your mind can keep up. 

“I love you too. Even though you’re fucking annoying.” He hisses, unable to hold himself back anymore. He cums hot inside you, grunting as he slaps your ass one last time before pulling himself out. You moan softly, breathing heavily as he cleaned you up. He kissed up your body, you unable to move from being completely fucked out of your mind. 

“When you socked me, I knew you were a keeper.” He laughed. 

“Shut up.” You say, smiling into your pillow. 

“HEY, YOU TWO DONE IN THERE? YOU COULD HAVE WOKEN UP THE ENITRE CITY WITH ALL THAT RACKET!” Twice shouted through the walls, turning your face red with shame. 

“SHUT UP AND MIND YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS!” Dabi yelled back, rubbing soft circles on your ass to soothe his harsh marks on both cheeks. 

bitch i.. i’m sick.