#i wish the money from dancing was enough for me to quit my job right now

[lauvra]

I shot guns in a videogame. I abstained from sex and masturbation. I quit caffeine. I wrote your last words, painted over them then turned them into an acrostic poem. I smoked one cigarette every ten minutes to fill a rental apartment with smoke and my lungs with tar. I sugar-soaped the walls and moved into the crawlspace of a place by the beach. I ushered the wrong people into forgiveness and said far too much to curious folks who didn't care. I wouldn't watch romance in movies or hug men. I danced in gay clubs and bought drugs. I walked on the opposite side of the street from the bar. I screamed while my friends apologised to strangers, laughed and corrected chairs in my path of destruction. You messaged a day later, asked how I was doing, "fine," I said. I drank coffee 'til 2am and sold my car. I leaned over the rooftop facing Luna Park, looking for you in happy strangers on the street below. I put the link in bio. I took on debt to move farther from you but ended up in a studio beside a skate park. Yikes. With each move I refused to let others carry your painting, fearing they'd damage it. I tanned, stretched, lifted iron and listened to subliminal sleep tapes for self esteem. I quit smoking and stopped answering calls. I caught planes not caring whether they'd land. I underlined text in A Lover's Discourse in Prahran square. I bought a piano and passed you in the rain. I convinced myself I caused the earthquake. I had a second ocean baptism and got a new job. When I panicked in the second week, my boss said "this is about a larger thing". I watched milestone fireworks and felt nothing. I grew sharp claws, painted them cherry red. You walked past me standing with a friend as I launched into cruel criticism of someone from before we'd met. Karma, I guess. I lived by your perception and treated everybody with suspicion. I got a gym membership and therapist. He said "maybe you aren't ready to change yet". I touched a petal on every roadside flower and thought about something you said. I mouthed thank-you in silence at pedestrian crossings remembering "they can't hear you!" I got a new job and two cherubs tattooed on my forearm. The cops did a welfare check. I went on a date to a jazz bar, then an open mic poetry night and fled before it finished. I wrote you bad, I wrote you fair, I wrote you real. I had sex with a divorcee. I sang sad things and sought religious experiences at gigs. I met with a deployed American with a penchant for gore thinking maybe he'd kill me, a mercy, then didn't give him a good enough opportunity. I searched up, beneath and inside. I bought a gold ring to feel a little like you at the end of each day. I wished the non-follower view was you, knowing it was not. I got a new job and moved to the other side of the city then wrote I was free. Two weeks later you tagged all down my street. My bad, another Goliath mishap. Fuck. I brushed my hands against the paint, drank four bottles of wine in one week and wrote in recollection. I moved again and quit the workforce. I had Penny's teeth cleaned, mine pulled and stumbled through the city in a borrowed jacket. I wondered what exactly you were so afraid you'd say under general anaesthetic. I forgot I, then remembered again. I put a painting in an exhibit, got a new therapist and joined a support group. I've walked you off, taken over a thousand showers, laughed, cried, scowled, searched obituaries and whispered sorry too quietly for the wind to carry. I've read, turned you into art, prayed for and ignored you, envied people you moved onto 3 months later, forgiven you but still can't walk past the stranger I loved on Rose Street without my knees weakening. But really, when I write to you it's merely a brick wall I'm speaking to, and it's as Steinbeck once said: money removes the charge of insanity. I never gained a penny for my grief. I realise in going forward, it was real for me but you were right, we have nothing to say to one another. I've felt, thought and said it all. You were more precise: "All good, I'm out."

[ghivrti]

fun lil life update or vent actually

I got diagnosed with interstitial cystitis back in January & it is the worst thing in the world that I would not wish upon my worst enemy!

My whole life now revolves around pissing and it sucks. I can't a lot of things that I used to love doing. Concerts are not the same anymore. I danced a lil too hard, and was in pain for WEEKS.

I went hiking like 3 weeks ago & I have been in horrible pain ever since. I piss hellfire and brimstone every single day & afterwards I can barely walk. I just have to lay in fetal position until the pain goes away.

I thought I was having reoccurring UTIs, but after months of on and off antibiotic use with no trace of infection and a million other tests, it turns out my bladder is just actively working against me!

The worst part is, NOTHING has helped the pain so far. There is NO relief. For a while, I found drinking baking soda (yes baking soda) helped the pain, but lately it has been so bad that not even that is helping :(

I have been using cbd a lot to help the pain, but now that I am looking for a new job I can't do that anymore in case I get drug tested. So there goes that too. At least until I lock something down that has good health insurance because I fucking need it.

I hate living in America! I cannot afford the bladder treatments or physical therapy! Instead I have to rely on heating pads, cbd which is out of the question right now, and a fucking CLEANING PRODUCT that is NOT MEANT TO BE CONSUMED as pain management.

I honestly was so very disheartened whenever the baking soda quit working because that would bring the pain from a 10 to like a 2 in one day. Also don't drink baking soda before talking to your doctor about it bc it will shoot out your kidneys if you are not careful.

I just want the pain to GO AWAY!!!!!!! I feel like it is consuming my whole life because it is all I think about!!!! Everything I eat all I can think about is how it will hurt me! When I go down the stairs too hard I think about how that is going to hurt me! At work when I have to pee I PRAY that it is not bad enough to where it hurts to walk afterwards.

I wish it would have been a kidney infection, or kidney stones, or an std, or literally ANYTHING else (except cancer I am really glad it wasn't cancer) because then at least I know it would be temporary.

It was honestly not too bad today until it was. I am off tomorrow, so I am going to baby myself because I fucking deserve to be babied with how bad the pain is constantly. I'm going to play sims all day.

Thank you to all 2 of you who got through this I just needed to yell into the void that I am in PAIN because there is literally nothing else I can do about it until I get a new job and make more money so I can afford physical therapy and bladder pain treatment (which doesn't actually treat anything, it just makes the pain bearable for a short while).

Goodnight & pls send good vibes because I am so tired of being in pain.

[babyharlot]

mannn

[winter-soldier-vibes]

Hey darling ❤️ love your writing 3000 :) can u do one with Bucky x reader (they’re together) where he overhears the reader on the phone with her parents that are emotionally & verbally abusive towards her (they always have been) and the reader has to explain it all to him afterwards even tho she’s having a panic attack (bc she’s afraid bucky will leave her since she has no one else to go to ??) and bucky comforts her and reassures her that he’s gonna be there for her and like comfort fluff? I live in an emotionally abusive and manipulative household rn and I tell you your fics are like an escape for me. Even if u don’t do this thank you from the bottom of my heart :)

Hey there, I love you 3000 ❤ I am so so sorry to hear about your situation, and while I'm glad to hear that my writing is an escape for you, I want you to know that I'm here for you. No one should have to go through what you described. I hope that this can bring you some comfort but please, I encourage you to reach out to someone who can help you. My DM's are open as well, you shouldn't face this alone. I'm here for you!!!

You owe them nothing

Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 3200 (ish)

Warnings: emotional abuse/gaslighting, manipulation, parent issues, tears, angst, breakdown, fluff.

---------

You really tried to keep it hidden. It wasn’t something that everyone needed to know about.

Your parents loved you, at least that’s what they had said. But it was one of those things where you felt like it was for show - the kindness that they showed when you were around others faded away once you were alone with them.

You remember once they had said “of course I love you, I’m your parent!”

But that made you wonder how they would treat you if you weren’t theirs.

They were horrible to you for as long as you could remember. Gaslighting you and making you feel like you owed them something even though they were the ones who should have taken care of you.

They were around but never…there. They would be there for family dinners but they were always riddled with criticisms of grades and who you were talking to and how you dressed. All of your hobbies were seen as a waste of time, something you should only do when you had nothing else to do. School came first, naturally, but there was always something they told you you had to do before you could do anything for yourself.

Yet when you would complain about being depressed, they told you to get a hobby because you never do anything.

Tired meant lazy, energetic and passionate meant loud and annoying. When you were quiet they thought you had nothing to say, yet when you expressed your opinions you were told to shut up.

You couldn’t win.

You could never make them happy, there was always something you were doing wrong.

They thought it was their right to monitor who you talked to and saw, what you did outside of school, what sports you could join. When you would say no to the school dances or parties you would make up an excuse about not wanting to go or having work to do. Your friends would call you a buzz kill. Little did they know you would give anything to go.

Whenever you would do something wrong (or anything, period,), your parents would yell at you. They would curse you out, make you cry, only to yell at you for crying like a little bitch.

The older you got, the worse it was.

You thought when you moved out it would be better. But you had all these years of being told you were worthless and having them be your providers. When you got your own place you didn’t really have any friends, nor did you really know how to make friends. You had a job to help you get by, you could support yourself. That wasn’t the issue. You could support yourself, you always had to.

It was that you were so lonely.

You wanted friends but you were so afraid of the criticism you would get. You were afraid to make yourself known, because you were always taught that being told what to do and taught what to think was much more appealing than having your opinion.

But this was an opinionated world.

You were good at what you did, so good that you had gotten a job at S.H.I.E.L.D. You thought that would make you happy, more importantly that it would make your parents happy, but no such luck.

“I got a really great job, guys.”

“Fantastic. I guess you’re just doing so great without us,” they had snapped.

“What? I mean… this is what you wanted right? For me to get a good job?” you had said, confused.

You heard a loud sigh on the other end of the line. “Of course we do, what are you crazy about? Of course we wanted you to get a good job but you just deserted us like we were trash. Have we done nothing for you?”

You felt your heart sink in your stomach. ‘Of course you guys have, I love -”

“Don’t say what you don’t mean. If you really cared about us you’d be helping us out. You got a great job and probably have a huge paycheck that you hoard and you left us here to struggle to make ends meet.”

You took the phone away from your face temporarily to take a shaky breath. Of course they would go there with the salary, why wouldn’t they? All of your paychecks had gone to them, since it was their house and they were feeding you, leaving you with barely enough money for your car and gas and phone bills, only for them to suggest longer hours when you complained.

“I can help you guys out if you need,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

You heard an exasperated sigh on the other line again. “You really should be more grateful, you know? We raised you your entire life and then you leave us alone? You never even call us? You’re so fucking selfish.”

Then the line went dead.

You shook your head and felt tears in your eyes as you spoke to yourself. “Well maybe I would call you if it didn’t always yell at me.”

Of course, you would never say that.

See, it wasn’t so bad. You never said anything because they were only ever mean to you, which would make you uncomfortable. There were people out there that would get hit or who would have to raise themselves from a young age. Once you grew thick skin it wasn’t so bad, you were just being dramatic.

Right?

Your new job was fairly successful, you were fantastic at what you did. You did a lot of behind the scenes work, weapon repair and plans of action with missions. Not that they needed much help with that. Still, they took you in as their friends.

Well, as close as you would let them get to as friends.

It took a while before you warmed up to them. Everyone tended to keep to themselves, but not as much as you. You kept the parts of you hidden away - you were there for a job, you did it, and you did it well. You knew how to do your job but interacting with the team, making friends - you didn’t want to get emotionally attached.

Not like you knew how to make friends to begin with.

Naturally you were drawn to the quieter side of the team, once you were able to open up. They were all nice but sometimes the parties and the jokes were a bit much. You just didn’t want to say or do the wrong thing that would make you the punchline.

No one needed to know about you, or how you would spend your free time being yelled at through a phone with you trying to make it better. That wasn’t part of the job, so you shouldn’t bring it up.

It wasn’t like anyone would want to help. You were just a nuisance to everyone around you.

Right?

No one talked about their life before the team much. Not many people on the team had a great life before the Avengers first came together. Natasha or Wanda had once spoken about how this team was a family. And as much as you wanted to believe it, you helped the team. You weren’t a part of the team. So even if that were true, it didn’t include you.

At least, that was your point of view.

The team viewed you as a part of the team as much as any of them. You didn’t fight with them but you made sure everything would go as smoothly. You were kind and great at what you did, but they wished you would open up more. Of course, being a team of people who had trouble opening up, they understood.

Bucky was one of the ones who took a liking to you, mostly because he saw a lot of himself in you. He could tell there was something that you were trying to get past but weren’t quite able to yet. That there was something bothering but you wouldn’t dare say it for fear of bothering someone. You threw yourself into projects and distractions and from the way you carried yourself, he guessed you were avoiding something that you weren’t ready to work through. At least, not yet.

He knew that feeling too well.

The ex-assassin was one of the easiest for you to open up to because he didn’t expect much from interactions. Both of you were quiet and kept to yourselves that there wasn’t much pressure to share anything or say anything. You knew his past but would never bring it up unless he wanted to. Which eventually, he did. You could tell he felt pressure to be who he was before HYDRA took him, and while Steve was surprised he opened up to you first, you weren’t. Steve knew Bucky before everything, and you didn’t have that bias. He was whoever he was today regardless of who he was yesterday.

And Bucky found comfort in that.

You think you would’ve too, if you thought you deserved it enough to do the same.

See, you were worried that you were making everything worse than it really was. You worried that maybe you were being too sensitive or that what you had grown up with was normal. With everything that everyone on the team went through, a few insults from your parents was hardly anything. You were being dramatic.

There was nothing to be sad or angry about. You just had to get over yourself.

Right?

You were getting by until one night when your parents called, as they did on occasion. You were in the middle of working, so you ignored it. The phone went to voicemail before it started ringing again, and you ignored it, again. The third time you sighed and picked up your phone, turning away from your work.

You took a deep breath before you answered. “Hello?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

You closed your eyes and brought a hand to rub your head. “Well I’m doing fine, thank you, how are you?”

“Don’t give me that attitude. What the fuck are you doing? You’ve been ignoring our calls.”

You stood up to pace the floor slightly, dreading the conversation that was coming. Is it the ‘family is most important’ or the ‘where’s my money?’ speech today? “I’ve been working.”

“What, so work is more important than family now? Is that what this is? You don’t care about us?”

Family speech it is.

“Dad -”

“What if one of us was dying? Huh? Would that be important?”

“Stop it. No one is dying, and I was working. And I have more work to do, so I really have to go.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, I’m your father.”

Gaining confidence you gritted your teeth and snapped, “You know what? I’m an adult now so you can’t tell me what to do.”

There was silence on the other end of the line and you could practically hear the steam coming out of your father’s ears.

At some point Bucky had come down to your working space to check on you, seeing as it was nearly morning. He stopped in the doorway, and seeing you were busy on the phone he thought he would stop by later to give you some privacy. But he stopped when he heard you snap.

You never snap.

“Who do you think you’re talking to you ungrateful little bitch?”

“I’m talking to the people who treated me like shit my entire life and ask me for money when you wouldn’t give me the time of day for 18 fucking years.”

Even you couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. But god did it feel good to say them.

“Are you fucking serious right now? We did nothing for you? What do you think we’ve been doing your whole life? We’ve done everything we did to help you be the best person you could be. You have that job now because of us and you have no right to speak to me that way.”

You chuckled darkly as you looked up at the ceiling, unaware of Bucky’s presence behind you. “My entire life all I’ve ever wanted to do was make you guys proud of me. But you know what? I’m fucking done. You hated me, gaslighted me, and made me hate myself almost as much if not more than you seemed to hate me.”

“I did no such thing you ungrateful -”

“You were supposed to love me and care for me, and all you did was take advantage of me. I’m not your child, I’m a paycheck. I don’t owe you anything because you gave me nothing. So you know what? FUCK. YOU.”

You hung up the phone and tossed it across the room, adrenaline taking over your body as you tried to stop shaking. Because a small part of you felt bad.

But fuck did that feel amazing.

You heard a throat clear behind you and you turned around to see Bucky, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“You okay?”

You nodded nervously, rubbing the sides of your arms. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, unconvincingly. “How much, uh...how much did you -

“Enough,” he said, pushing himself off of the door frame as he crossed over to you. “Who was that?”

“Bucky, don’t, it’s really fine. I just got a little worked up.”

“Y/n,” he started, looking at you with concern. “Who were you talking to?”

“No one.”

“You don’t get upset like that at no one,” he took your hands in his. “Y/n, you're shaking.”

It was then that you realized your hands were still shaking, trying to keep the anxiety of what happened at bay.

It’s going to be so much worse now.

I can never talk to them again.

Is that a good thing? Didn’t I want that?

Bucky could sense you getting lost in your head. “Sweetheart, tell me what happened, please. I want to help you.”

You pulled your hands away from his and crossed your arms. “You can’t help me because there’s nothing wrong, okay? I handled it, it’s over. Done. nothing to worry about.”

“Y/n -”

“No really, there’s nothing you can do, okay?”

“Will you at least let me try?”

You looked at him, adrenaline starting to drain from your system. This was Bucky, your Bucky, who had never done anything but love and support you. He had never done anything to hurt you.

But what if he left you too?

You took in a sharp breath and curled in on yourself, a scared look on your face. Bucky crossed back over to you, seeing a scared look on your face.

“Hey, hey, y/n? Can you look at me?”

You brought your eyes up to meet his, feeling your chest constricting as you tried to keep your breathing even. It wasn’t working.

“I - I’m sorry, you shouldn’t… I’m fine really I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”

“Hey, it’s alright, it’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for,” he pulled you in for a hug and kissed the top of your head. “Let’s go sit down, okay?’

He led you over to your bed and you leaned forward, hands on your knees and head in your hands. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s happening, this - I’m sorry, it’s so stupid, I’m so stupid.”

Bucky rubbed a hand up and down your back, hushing you. “It’s not stupid. If it’s bothering you, it’s not stupid.” Bucky took a small breath. “Do you remember all of those times after nightmares and all those panic attacks you would walk me through? How I thought I was being stupid?”

“You weren’t being stupid”

“And neither are you.”

You took some more shaky breaths as tears kept falling down your face. “You’re okay. It’s alright, I’m right here.”

Bucky let you calm down, knowing you would talk about it if you wanted to. He wanted you to talk about it so he could help you (and hurt whoever upset you) but he wouldn’t force you into telling him anything you didn’t want to.

The two of you sat in the silence, Bucky looking at you with soft eyes as you kept your face hidden.

“I haven’t told you a goddamn thing about me. You ever wonder why?”

You looked over at Bucky, eyebrows creased with slight confusion.

“They said blood was supposed to be thicker than water. That family comes first, right? I spent my whole life listening to them and following them and being the perfect kid. I made myself into everything they wanted me to be. And it still wasn’t enough for them.”

Bucky tilted his head slightly. He hadn’t known his parents much before they died but he had always wanted to have more time. But he wasn’t oblivious to the fact that not everyone had good parents.

“You know, I remember thinking that once I made it they would be happy. That if I worked hard enough or went onto do great things that they would be proud of me. That’s all I ever wanted, you know?” you said, voice wavering as you let out a bitter laugh. “But it’s not, you know? Never is, never was, never will be. All they do is take and take and no matter how good I am they’re always gonna hate me because I can’t be perfect.”

“No one’s perfect, y/n.”

“Well that’s what they want me to be. I know I can’t be perfect so I know they’ll never be happy. That they’ll call me ungrateful and selfish for succeeding and for leaving them when they never wanted me to be there to begin with.” You felt tears spill over as you wiped them away. “And I’m ust so fucking done with being a disappointment to them and to everyone else.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“I don’t know,” you said softly, not really wanting to be more vulnerable.

Bucky, sensing this was a time he could push you, challenged you. “I think you do.”

You shook your head. “I didn’t want anyone to see me the way they did. I thought what they said wasn’t true but...I just thought that maybe I was overreacting. Other people have it worse you know - some people have no parents or some have it so much worse. Mine just yell at me you know? Tell me everything’s my fault and that they wish they’d never had me. That I’m ungrateful for not being with them and that I owe them. I just...I heard that for the first 18 years of my life. I didn’t need any more of it.”

“y/n, that’s…” he swallowed, trying to contain his anger. “That’s not normal. No one should have to go through that. You can’t possibly think you're a bad person.”

Your shrug was enough to tell him that you did.

“Y/n, I don’t know who your parents think they are but you don’t owe them a damn thing. You may be related to them but you have no obligation to love your parents if they treat you like that. You have every right to be angry or to hate them. It doesn’t make you a bad person to be angry with someone who hurt you.”

“But they’re my family.”

“Well they didn’t treat you like it. You have us now, you don’t need them anymore. We’re your family. And we’re not gonna leave you.”

“They didn’t leave me Bucky, I left them.”

“You can’t leave someone who was never there for you.”

----------

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[jameui]

SPECIAL PRESENT 2

Requested

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

PAIRING: Sugar Daddy!Jung Yunoh x College Student!M!Reader (featuring: Bestfriend!Lee Jeno)

GENRE: Fluff, Smut

WARNINGS: Unprotected intercourse, huge age gap, a lot of IMPORTANT flashbacks (i think), daddy kink, sex toys, overstimulation

SUMMARY: You were a striving student in Resonance High and had perfect records. Besides your devotion to your education, you were also gifted with a talent. All these stuffs making your sugar daddy, Jaehyun, proud of you, so he decided to give you a night you won't forget.

He gave Jeno an acknowledging nod for looking out for you for him and carried your smaller body with your legs wrapped around his waist like you were an eight year old. "You asleep, baby?" You buried your head on the crook of his neck and shook them 'no'. "Alright. Cause I don't want dinner going to waste." He made you giggle while you hugged his body tighter that were hanging over his shoulders.

He pulled the door to the passenger's seat and gently seats you down on the comfy chair. He closed the door for you before moving to his side of the car. The driver's. He got inside and made himself comfortable, just as you were putting on your seatbelt. "Are we good to go?"

"Yeap. I'm starving already." You said patting your tummy.

He chuckled with his deep voice that you always find so hot and fascinating. "Were you practicing 'til the late night, again?" He asked you, concern lingering on the tone of his voice.

"Yeah. I stayed with Jeno, though. He was a better mentor, in full honesty." You pouted. "Ah, right. The mentor told me I made him proud." You said like a puppy who was complimented by their owner.

"He did, huh?" He said, before he raised his hand from the steering wheel and patted your head. "I'm more proud of you." You smiled and felt all your insides go giddy as you wiggled cutely on your seat.

You drove through houses and past buildings before you arrived at the older man's house. You were in your first year of college when you ran away from your family's house and moved to a more far off place, somewhere they wouldn't be able to track you down. To support yourself, you rented a room in a boarding house, but had to eventually leave due to you having not enough money to pay for the rent. You tried so hard looking for a job and you did, but it didn't last long. Although, you were paid a good amount of money that helped you with your house renting and food. Of course, you found a very unstable job again, but was fired for your poor performance. Yet again, you were forced to leave the the place you rented and even thought of actually working at a gay bar. Not until you stumbled upon, your now bestfriend, Jeno who offered you a shared room with him in his apartment, which you gladly took.

Jeno was one of your coworkers that you never really got to interact with, so seeing now that he's your roommate, you had to eventually get to know him more and you two grew closer together, becoming the best of friends that you two are now. It was quite coincidental that you two were studying at the same university, so it was a shock for the both of you. You two were roommates 'til the end of your first year, when you met Jaehyun on that faithful day, who was generous enough to invite you to live under the same roof as him. At first, you were very hesitant, but with the agreement he had set between you two, who were you to refuse? Like you said before, you were only up for it because of the money and pleasure.

"Daddy?" You called out to him. In the agreement, you were free to call him anything you wanted if you two were in public, but when it's just the two of you, that nickname should be the one used AND only that. He hummed in reply as his eyes never left the rear view mirror, parking the car in the garage. "Do you ever... er, I know it's a very unnecessary question, but..." You chuckled with hurt on your voice. "... Do you ever get tired of me?"

Jaehyun didn't say anything after he had parked the car. You two only sat there, Jaehyun turning the car engine off, then sighed. "Baby, listen." You were once about to speak again, but he cut you off. "I want to tell you something." The tone in his voice made your heart beat faster, more scared than that recent experience at the dance studio. He held your hand, your eyes falling on them before trailing them up to Jaehyun's who was looking deeply into your E/c orbs. "Don't think of it badly, but a few days into the relationship, I really did thought I wish I shouldn't have met you."

And there it goes. The heartbreak you had always deserved, but his hold on your hand never loosened, rather it tightened and his eyes softening when he noticed your eyes start to prick with tears. "I said, don't think badly about it, M/n."

"How could I not when you're literally breaking my heart?!"

"Baby, let me explain." Jaehyun told you, you letting out a huff.

"Then, explain and if you want to end all this, then just say so. I don't want to get my hopes up." You whined and crossed your arms.

Jaehyun chuckled. "Before I met you, I was always on my desk. Every single day, thinking of nothing, but only work." You side eyed him and huffed, again. "But, now that you're here, you're the only person filling up that space in my mind. All I could ever think of was you and only you. Your smile, your sweet giggles, the way your voice sounded so angelic when you sing, everything about you spiraled in my head, neverending." He softly told you, putting a hand on your thighs that was clothed with the long pants you wore. "You never came to me as just a responsibility anymore. You were my top, number 1, only priority. Now, I regret ever thinking like that."

"Stop, you're gonna make me cry." You shoved your hand on his face to shut him up, to which the older resorted to tickling you. You bursted into fits of laughter not stopping until you two were finally out of breathe. Your eyes locked with each other, your chest heaving up and down, Jaehyun still yet to stop from his chuckling. Once his chuckling died down, you couldn't contain it in yourself anymore and hungrily pressed your lips on his, moving to his side of the car to straddle his thighs.

Jaehyun was taken by surprise from your sudden action, but replied quite faster than you thought. His hands slid down to your ass, kneading it through your pants making you moan in pleasure, Jaehyun using this as a chance to slip his tongue inside your wet cavern mixing his saliva with yours as he danced with your tongue, taking dominance very easily.

His hands went further up your body, sending tingles down your spine making you shudder in your place. He pulled away from your lips, a string of a transparent liquid connecting both of you, whilst his dark brown eyes gazing at you with nothing, but lust deep within those orbs that stared into your soul. "You look so sexy, baby." He told you, before he sloppily placed wet kisses on your jaw, down to your neck making sure to leave hickeys that will be visible for days. The contact of his soft lips on your skin made you sigh shakily from the pleasure he was giving you. He caressed your soft skin from under your large shirt and found its way up to your erect nipples that he always fondly played with whenever you found yourselves in this same exact situation.

An unconscious loud, high pitched noise came out of your mouth, Jaehyun swelling with pride as he smirked, teeth grazing the supple flesh of your neck. "D-daddy.. Mmnh~" You hummed out in pleasure, your hands tangling themselves on Jaehyun's unkempt hair, your head completely empty, but the thought of how the man made you feel so good. "Daddy~"

The way the nickname rolled out your tongue in a very sensual way, earned you a growl from the older male before he bit on that sensitive part of your skin making you scream out a loud moan. He licked on that same area, sucking on it while doing so. Your eyes were half lidded when you felt something under you poke your thighs. He was hard.

Teasingly, you traced your fingers over his clothed member and played with the tip to drive him over the edge. "Stop teasing, baby boy. You know what happens to bad boys, right?" He whispered seductively into your ears, his hot breathe hitting your skin briefly, a minty scent filling your nose.

"Yes, daddy." You nodded your head meekly.

"That's a good boy. Now get to work." He ordered you as you moved back towards your seat in a kneeling position and ducking down to become face to face with the male's crotch. Even from now, you still couldn't get over the fact how he was so huge and how long his dick was. You were still yet to learn how this will fit inside of you. "Come on, baby. Time's a wasting."

You nodded your head submissively and reached over the waistband of his sweatpants and peeled them off only to discover that he was bare on the inside, his sweatpants the only thing that kept his bottom half covered. "Did you expect this to happen, daddy?" You smirked, placing kitten licks on the tip of his semi-erect cock. "You're so hot, daddy." You said, looking up at him while you rested your head on his thighs.

"Baby, please." He begged of you, eyes furrowing.

You smirked before you trailed a small lick from his balls up to his tip, making Jaehyun groan throughout the time he entangled in his hand a fistful of your hair. You can't help, but let a moan slip past your tongue as you continued to place kisses on the head of his cock. You glanced up at him only to see him viewing you with so much lust in his eyes. You understood this as a sign to stop your teasing and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock taking in only a few inches that you could fit into your mouth, using your tongue that sent shivers down Jaehyun's spine as he groaned from the pleasure you gave him.

But, this time, you wanted to make him feel better. You wanted to know how far you can go. You were determined to exert yourself to your maximum limit, so you took all of his cock into your mouth, not even bothering how much you choked around his dick when he reached further down your throat. Upon this, Jaehyun howled. He didn't expect you to take him whole, since you were basically only playing with the head of his member, so this was rather unexpected. "That's right, baby. Make daddy feel good."

You helped yourself first to fully adjust to his size, swallowing around him that made your throat tighten causing to send pleasure through Jaehyun's nerves making him groan out in pleasure, hissing out cusses that made your ego swell with pride as you started to bob your head painfully slowly for Jaehyun's liking.

Occasionally you would look up at Jaehyun who had his head tilted backwards, eyes shut, sighing from the familiar sensation you gave him while he let you do your work. He would take his head back down to you, to peer over you who sucked on his dick like it was a lollipop. "Fuck, baby. Faster."

You followed his command and went a little faster, earning a groan from the lust filled male as he started to guide your head. You stilled yourself, giving him the signal that he can go at his own pace. And so he did. But, you didn't expect that he'd fuck your mouth at a very rough pace.

You held onto his thighs to balance yourself, your eyes rolling back from how much you felt good with just your mouth getting fucked by Jaehyun. The older male grunted and laughed darkly whispering a few curses, letting out chains of groans and sighs that he couldn't help from passing his lips.

His pace didn't stop from increasing its speed, until it became an animalistic pace that made tears fall from your eyes, face reddening at how much stimulation he had put on your mouth. "Fuck, fuck! Baby, your mouth feels so good!"

He peeked over you and saw your eyes staring back at him, as you felt his dick grow bigger in size from inside your mouth. Your eyes were both locked together as he continued to buck his hips inhumanely inside your mouth. "M/n~ Ah~" He moaned out your name, but he was still not near to reaching his climax as he continued to let himself fuck your mouth. You were sure your throat will be sore the day after, but you could careless. This felt like heaven to you and you didn't want anything to stop you.

He finally stopped his harsh movements, letting you move at a pace you can handle. You used your tongue to swirl around his cock, making Jaehyun hiss, knitting his eyebrows causing the small creases on his forehead to appear. "Hah..."

To drive him over the edge more, you continued to suck on the sensitive part of his cock, which was the tip that was now leaking with precum. You slid your tongue over the slit of the bulbous tip of his dick, tasting the saltiness of the juice he produced with your help.

He was so over his head, that he let out a loud curse when his phone started ringing. "Don't stop, baby." You complied, his hand intertwining with the strands of your hair. You repeated the routine and got no reaction from the older male, but you can clearly see that he was just trying to restrain himself from letting out a moan. Feeling challenged, you bobbed your head up and down on his dick going faster and faster each time his tip hit the back of your throat.

Jaehyun, who was still on his phone, smirked down at you at how needy you are for his attention. So, he placed his hands back to your hair and singlehandedly pushed you you even further that made you let out a choked out gasp, but gradually grew accustomed to it, after he gave your head one final push, burying his dick inside your mouth thick spurts of his cum travelling down your throat, some dripping down your mouth. He thrusted a few more times to ride out his high before he let you pull away with a loud pop.

He finally hung up the call and caressed your cheeks, leaning in to whisper. "You did great, baby." He smiled down at you and that's how you eventually fell asleep, forgetting about the dinner that Jaehyun had prepared for the both of you.

Nonetheless, Jaehyun fixed himself up and carried you to his room. He laid you down on the soft mattress of the bed, pulling the sheets over your body before he gives your forehead a small lingering kiss. "Sweet dreams, my little angel." He said, then got up to to turn the lights off, happily watching you sleep one last time, before he went downstairs to finish his work.

The morning after, just as expected, you felt a sting on your throat every time you swallowed or even talk making your voice sound hoarse from the sore throat you were having. Jaehyun kept on apologizing, even though you kept on telling him that it was alright and that it wasn't his fault, but he still insisted and promised you to cook your favorite meal for dinner. Knowing the taller male, you knew there was no way around this, so you just gave in and nodded your head. He was also kind enough to let you hide his bite mark.

"I didn't know your voice could go that deep." Jeno teased you, poking the side of your ribs.

You slapped his hands away. "Fuck you." Your voice came out airy and raspy, sound almost like a broken croak, making you sigh. "Gah... I feel like I shouldn't have—ah—done that a day before the performance." You said, wincing when you felt that rising pain on your throat as you rubbed them to try and ease the sting that was fucking killing you.

"Guess, it's good that I don't do the sucking." Jeno chuckled that made you widen your eyes.

"Who—"

"Lee fucking Jeno. AH!" A rather harsh sounding voice, emitted from behind the said male, taking his attention before he smiled.

"Nana! You came!" Jeno opened his arms and ran to the boy, but he was pushed away by him making Jeno pout.

"Shut the fuck up, Jeno." He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "You gave me this sore throat." He glared at Jeno. "And, of course I came. After you fucking threatened me to—"

"Yeah, yeah. That's enough, Jaemin." Jeno said, covering the person's mouth. Jeno took his hand back as quick as lightning, when Jaemin licked on the palm of his hand, a smirk forming on his face. "Gross!"

Jeno was wiping his hands when you rolled your eyes and held a hand at Jaemin for him to shake. "M/n. L/n M/n. A 'friend' of my friend, is a friend of mine. Nice to meet you." You greeted him, Jaemin chuckling at the same exact situation you were in.

"What a top, huh?" Jaemin said, before he shook your hand. "Na Jaemin. Pleased to meet you." He smiled at you while Jeno pulled both your hands away from each other.

"HEY!"

"No. Just no!" Jeno told you both, while knitting your brows in confusion at him. "Jaemin. You're only mine."

"Of course, he's yours. I don't plan on taking him away from you. I just want to be friends." You said in reply to Jeno's statement who pouted. "Besides, I'm not as handsome as you, Jeno, so I can't compete with you."

"I don't mind cute boys." Jaemin crossed his arms, teasing Jeno and probably you, as well as a blush started to paint your cheeks.

"HEY!" Jeno yelled at Jaemin who rolled his eyes before he gave you a wink and walked off. Jeno glared at you and narrowed his eyes. "Mine. Jaemin's mine."

"Then, take him. Geez Luis, Jeno. I already have my own." You stuck your tongue out at him before you went to the studio to change into the costume you were to wear. You waited for your turn, a makeup stylist approaching you to put make up on you. "Oh." You said and the stylist just smiled and started to dab foundation onto your face that matched your skin tone. She gave you a small amount of blush on, giving you an eyeliner and a dark brown eyeshadow to give your eyes a fiery look to match the concept of your performance.

She immediately packed her things up and moved to another student, you giving her a bow as she left. "Wow, look at you. I didn't even recognize it was you." Jeno teased with his arms crossed across his chest.

You gave him a smile and fiddled with you fingers. "I'm actually feeling really scared right now. But, mostly, I can feel the adrenaline rush running through my veins that I could just scream and run out the stage and dance!" You said in glee, until you realized that you had forgotten telling Jaehyun about your performance. "Oh, no. Da—Jaehyun! I forgot to tell him." You groan and checked your pockets for your phone and remembered you left it at home, since you were to excited to even check yourself. You dejectedly sat down on a chair and whimpered.

"He'll be there, M/n. I can tell." Your mentor told you, when he heard your complaints about forgetting to tell Jaehyun, and you immediately lit up and hugged the person.

"Thank you!" You expressed your gratitude, getting the idea of what he meant. You pulled away from him with a wide smile glued stuck to your face.

"Now, you both need to get changed. The opening's 'bout to start." You and Jeno nod your head and went straight to the wardrobe to get change, seeing only two outfits left on the line.

"Just in time." Their dress stylist both gave them what seemed to be like their costumes that was kept inside a black plastic case with a zipper that attached the layer together.

You made your way to the dressing room, one for you and the other for Jeno. You fit yourself just right into the clothes they have assigned for you to wear. You looked at yourself in the mirror and was shocked to see how good you looked on these clothes you're wearing.

You were fit into a maroon loose silk long sleeved polo, the vertical front of the shirt that attaches it together was replaced with laces that stitched around the holes of your clothes' button hole. The sleeves of your polo went further down, just below your wrist, avoiding it from falling by securing it with a button on the hem of the sleeves. For your lower half, you were given tight fitting slack pants that accentuated the size of your bubble butt with your polo neatly tucked inside the waist of your pants. The length of your pants stopped exactly by your ankle, exposing that uncovered area, the wind tickling your ankles. You wore a closed black shoes that complimented the look. You also wore a display lip ring and earring that completed your look, your whole self changing right before your eyes. The gullible and fun you was no longer there, instead it was replaced with a much more unknown version of yourself.

"Damn, I look fine as fuck." You told yourself as you checked yourself out on the mirror that was placed in the dressing room. "Woah..." You said, tracing your fingers on the outline of your ass.

"M/n. You done in there? We're almost up." Jeno's voice called from the busky studio that snapped you from your thoughts and came out of the dressing room. Jeno's head turn to look at you taking in your new look with a lip bite and a whistle. "Damn, bro. You look so hot."

"Thanks, I guess." You giggled, blushing shyly.

A few more compliments later and your group was being called to move to the venue and be at the backstage to prepare. You just stuck to Jeno the whole time going back to the routine a few times to practice and perfect the dance. Jeno was a good friend to the point where he would always be there by your side whenever you needed him. Even at this time, he never left your side and helped calm you down by offering a bubblegum to you, your mind thinking about nothing, but focusing on chewing the gum. Jeno would always initiate a talk with you making you laugh all the time whenever he made faces or make jokes that weren't even funny making it hard for you not to laugh at.

But, it seemed like all Jeno's work went immediately down the gutter when you felt your nervousness come back at once, when the emcee of the opening program started to introduce you to the stage.

Loud cheers and a round of applause were heard as you made your way to the very spacious stage of the place. Your eyes fell to the crowd, feeling yourself break into cold sweat from all the nervousness you felt. It was too heavy that you couldn't—"Daddy?" You smiled when you saw Jaehyun in the crowd and waved his hand at you when you saw your eyes that was happily looking at him. You subtly waved your hand back at him, to which he smiled at, those deep dimples appearing for you.

You got into your position, which consisted of you lying down on the floor, with your right leg folded up, your knee raised up. You had a cutted satin fabric in your back pocket as a prop for yours and Jeno's solo later. You put your hands over your eyes, as a part of your starting position.

Soon, the music started booming through the speakers and you felt your body get trapped to the rhythm of the song as you felt your hands and legs get overtook by the music as you started to gracefully dance to each beat of the song. Jaehyun, with his phone, proudly deciding to film your whole performance.

The first and second half of the song was just your group synchronized dancing to the choreography of what your mentor had taught you and you leading some part of the dance, until the song made a huge turn to a very sensual groove that had only you and Jeno left on the stage. Your solo, with your partner, Jeno, started and everyone in the crowd whistled and gasped, including Jaehyun who felt a little jealous that it wasn't him with you on that stage.

You started with a freestyle by grinding your hips on the cold newly polished floor of the stage, before you were joined by Jeno who stealthily took the fabric from your pocket and slowly wrapped it around your source of vision. He took your chin to turn your head and face him. One hand, not too tightly held the blindfold up only enough, so it doesn't fall, while the other held the back of your neck turning both of you around, so your back faced the audience and he faced the crowd, smirking before he leaned in close to you and staged to make it look like he bit on your neck, then removing the blindfold from your eyes. Then, ending the performance with you falling down to the floor acting lifeless, while Jeno pretended to wipe his lips.

The audience broke into loud claps and shouting out praises in chorus, while Jeno helped you up to your feet giving him a silent thanks and bowed at the people who was watching your performance. You two walked out of the stage and was greeted with hugs from the students feeling like they made a very big accomplishment from how you made the performance very eye catching. "M/n! You were so great out there!"

"Thanks. Jeno helped me a lot." You said, nudging the older, who only chuckled.

"M/n." Jaehyun's voice grabbed your attention, holding his arms out as he smiled at you. You gave him a wide smile and ran to him hugging him with all your might.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you." You voiced out apologetically, pushing your bottom lip forward into a pout and looked up at him. "Sorry, Jaehyun."

"It's okay, baby." He replied, before leaning into your ear. "Because I'm hoping you kept your promise and that's why I have a surprise for you."

You knew what he meant by that, the reason why you were blushing with your eyes wide open. "I.. er.. Yes, yes." You said, playfully punching on his chest. A week prior to today, you had promised to Jaehyun that if you're performance was successful, you'd finally let him pop your cherry, that's why you're blushing so profusely.

"Then, be ready. I'll be seeing you tonight." He whispered one last time before he kissed your cheeks and excused himself since he was still expected at his work.

The whole day, all you could ever think of was what his surprise was and how he would be able to fit his huge dick inside your ass. It was too impossible, you thought, but you were already feeling just as desperate as the older male. You wanted to know how he felt inside you, how he would fuck you 'til the daylight, how he would break your mind and fuck you until you forget your own name. Just the thought of it made you go crazy as you slapped your cheeks and sighed. "Fuck..."

You felt a presence sat themself beside you giving a loud sigh. "So, I'm guessing you're gonna stay up whole night, huh?" It was Jaemin.

You whipped your head at him and looked at him like he was some type of witch or future teller. "How'd you..."

"Gut feeling." Jaemin said.

You didn't know what you signed up for in that time, until today.

It was currently quarter to seven and you were now at the front of the doorstep, not even bothering to say a word. You could only blink your eyes several times, swallowing the large lump that formed in your throat. You let out a deep breathe and was about to put your hand on the knob when the door let out a soft creak and caught sight of Jaehyun who was dressed in nothing, but his boxer shorts. Your hands didn't left the air as you continued to stare up at him, before your eyes fell down his toned abs that were nothing compared to your flabby stomach. "M/n, baby! You're just in time." He smiled at you, but you were still as nervous as ever. Your eyes never left from taking in the view right in front of your eyes, admiring how much his body was so sexy, licking your lips as your eyes fell down his shorts. "M/n."

Your head snapped up towards him, finally out of your train of thoughts. "Yes, daddy?"

"I left your present on the bed, baby. Go check it out." He told you as you did what you were told and moved upstairs to your shared bedroom and saw a pink colored paper bag on top of the bed. You looked at Jaehyun hesitantly, who gave you a smirk and nodded his head up once to the bag to tell you that you should open it. So, you did. And didn't expect to see all sorts of 'toys' inside them.

"D-daddy... these all are..." You managed to let out, these only few words getting the chance to leave your mouth. Your hands trembled, not because you were scared, mainly because you can already feel yourself start to melt and the desperation to just submit to him already.

You felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around you loosely, Jaehyun's hot breathe hitting your neck. He pressed his lips down to your neck and placed kisses that trailed down to your exposed shoulder due to the large shirt you wore that was barely hanging on your shoulders. You tilt your head to the side, giving him more access to your neck as he started to nip on the skin. "Fuck, baby boy." He whispered into your ear, licking your lobe making you sigh in pleasure, as he started to grind his hard on against your ass.

"Ah... daddy.." You moaned out from the feeling of his clothed member on your butt.

He never ceased his movements until he saw your hands still holding onto the bag, his smirk growing wider. "I'll let you pick two, baby and it'll be our special tool for tonight. How's that sound?" He seductively asked you, his lips grazing the back of your ear.

You weakly nodded your head and checked the contents of the paper bag. You were too clouded with the thought of getting pleasured by the older man that you took out whatever you could take in your hand. The chosen items made Jaehyun smirk. "Good choice, baby boy." He moved away from you, already missing the heat his body radiated against yours. He took the bag away from the bed and threw it somewhere in the corner of the room and took the toys you had in your hand. "I gotta say, you have good taste, M/n." He said. "Strip." His voice fell an octave deeper making your knees buckle from his dominating demeanor.

[chiwhorei]

gun bunny

pairing: mafia!s. aizawa x fem!reader

genre: mafia!au, quirkless!au, smut- 18+ minors dni

word count: 2.5k

warning: somnophilia, voyeurism, violence, attempted kidnapping, attempted assault, mentions of blood, mentions of guns and knives, degradation, age-gap (reader is 19 and aizawa is 31), spitting

a/n: hello! this is my contribution to the smut pile mafia!server collab, this is both my first smut pile collab (this is so late i am so sorry sksksksk) and my first full-length bnha piece, be sure to check out everyone else’s amazing work here! thank you to @10millionyearsdungeon and @messwriting for your constant support while i trudged through sad pal hours for a fucking month and crawled out of the pits of writer’s block

hymns: hayloft by - mother mother, i’m on fire - awolnation cover

Blood pours over decades like syrup, the tinny-sweet smell was distinct but all too familiar. A muffled gun’s buzzing frames 19 years of life. The barrel feels cool, sitting precariously by the highest angle of your cheekbone.

“I told you not to cause trouble, brat. Now I have to clean up your little mess.”

Aizawa’s body is tall and broad above you, holding you against him with a protective grip on the small of your back. Every word is sneering, punctuated with a growl-- you feel it reverberate against his chest.

The bullet is resounding even through the silencer; a deafening sound, final bell tolling next to smeared streaks of mascara.

Aizawa Shouta has always been around-- whether bringing your dad a hefty stack of reports to thumb through or loosening his tie in the parlor and toasting him to another job well done. A carousel of chauffeurs and bodyguards encircle you, but all are nameless faces except for the man that can make people disappear in an instant: Eraser.

Otsuka y/n, the only daughter of the most powerful man in Japan, is a weighty title against your shoulders. Your father’s reputation has cradled you for almost two decades, keeping you draped in fur and balancing on red-bottoms. He has more money, more power than God. To most of your father’s inner circle, you are the dutiful, angelic heiress to his blood-soaked empire. You play the part well enough, polite, temperate- your hands are painted red in culpability, but perfectly manicured.

Your father’s business isn’t a secret, no matter his attempts to shield you over the years. There’s only so many nights spent humming to the tune of cracking skulls in the next room before “investments in oil” starts to lose its validity. Whenever you ask him, he pats your head, smoothing stray strands of hair, “I do it all for you, bunny. Everything is for you.”

You decide not to think about rouge splatters of blood and bruises against his knuckles, ignoring the clicking of a loading gun before he leaves for the office.

It’s better this way.

“You can’t be serious, Otsuka.” Aizawa paces across the hardwood, heel to toe with Italian leather from one large bookshelf to the other. A familiar habit, you’ve seen the contemplative marching before and know it to mean one thing: Aizawa is pissed.

“Have you ever known me to joke around? Especially with y/n?” Your father’s elbows hit the table in front of him, the jagged scars lining his face seem even more intimidating when coupled with a harshly set frown. You perch on the side of his large desk, swinging your feet lightly.

“Oh daddy, I’m not a child. I don’t need Eraser to babysit me.” You huff, crossing your arms and providing a pout to your father’s hard expression. You hear the mumbled, “Don’t call me that,” from behind you, but decide against a response.

“He’s going to look after you while I’m in Musutafu. I have to handle some…” he trails off slightly, one of his hands coming up to rub against his bald head, “noncompliance, but I shouldn’t be gone for more than a few days.” His disfigured fingers curling around yours, you look up to meet his eye, “Be a good girl, bunny.”

You give your father’s temple a kiss, pulling back to smile sweetly. Your next words have Aizawa snorting, rolling his eyes far enough into his skull to be painful.

“I always am.”

A bend downwards at the hips frames your ass perfectly, the lace of your panties curls around your pussy tightly, hooking against the lips and showcasing your soft skin. Questions swirl in the bowl of cereal in front of him, all but forgotten as soon as a cup“fell” from your fingers and clattered to the floor. The taste, the smell, the feeling of--

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Aizawa is ripped from the reprehensible desires of his senses to meet your eyes, your form still folded over on itself and displayed for Aizawa in the otherwise empty kitchen. You giggle at his scowl, snapping back up and smoothing out your skirt. Aizawa bites down on the spoon in between his teeth, he swears he can feel his teeth cracking. Better his canines than his will.

This only marks the beginning of a long week for your father’s right-hand man. The proceeding days turn to nights at a snail's pace. The past week has been inching towards disaster with every minute of alone time you could steal with Aizawa.

“Eraser, what are you doing up so late.” Your voice curls around his shoulder, the whine tugging him towards your open bedroom door. It’s late, far too late for you to be up to anything good.

You always like to push your luck, playing a game you know Aizawa won’t let himself win. Pressing firmly against the line but never pointing your heel across. Maintaining your immunity, feigning innocence behind a soft pout. Your appointed guardian isn’t fooled by any honeyed façade you build around his associates. He knows what you are at the core.

He tries to shake off your pull, but the way your voice lilts against the long hallway is magnetic. The past few nights have been the same song and dance, your disarming call to him as he trudges to one of the many guest bedrooms. Every night he gets closer, heavy feet and tense nerves guiding him towards your warm voice. He’s weathering a sea, you’re the siren hell-bent on his drowning.

“I told you not to call me that, little girl.” His response to your wanton call is shallow, the nickname is one he hates the sound of, especially rolling past your lips.

“Do you like what you see?”

Aizawa’s brows set harshly as he looks on to where you lie nestled in pillows and silk. You have nothing but a loose, light pink camisole to cover your body, cotton panties pulled down to your ankles with shameless intent. Your legs are spread wide for your viewer’s pleasure, two fingers brush against your lips, dragging lazily- up and back down.

Aizawa knows what you really are, a petulant brat.

You pull at the soft skin, spreading yourself to unveil the tight, clenching hole. He leans his shoulder against the jam, eyes drinking you in where his body shamefully wishes to be. The groan aching deeply in his chest is not lost on you as your other hand pulls the hem of your shirt upwards to catch in between your teeth.

The soft plush of your breasts bounces slightly, nipples peeking out from the folds of fabric, now fully exposed to the inky-black stare of your voyeur. There’s nothing left to his imagination now, the question that haunts sleepless nights, palming a large hand up and down his cock and imagining something softer and smaller. The picture of what his boss’s precious daughter would look like squirming under him becoming clearer beyond all reason.

Aizawa should turn heel and walk away, he should slam your bedroom door shut and count the days until your father’s return with a measured distance. He should walk away. He should-

A soft whimper drags him from contemplation and back to the writhing succubus center stage. Your fingers move quickly against your aching clit, drawing out babbled pleas to hit harshly against the tall, brooding presence at your door.

“I’ve had about enough of your games, bunny. Your father tasked me to keep you out of trouble, but you are the trouble.” Aizawa’s words hit your ears mockingly, but they sound more like an invitation than a warning, especially as his body inches forward, breaching the threshold of your bedroom inch by inch.

Two fingers slip past your lips, pushing in and drawing back slicked with arousal. You repeat the action, slowly, ensuring the boring set of eyes are trained on where you clench desperately; wanting to put on a good show with your bodyguard in the front row.

Aizawa’s head is swimming, dizzy and drunk. He wants to tear you apart, to lay claim to the twitching prize between your legs. If you struggle around two of your own much smaller fingers, it would be nearly impossible to wrap you around his thick cock.

That is, not without breaking you.

The heated pants escaping you pick up in canter, your audience winding a tight cord with his presence alone. Aizawa is unrelenting in his deep, unblinking stare, stepping towards your bed slowly. Once his body is looming over you, the coil in your stomach has turned into a hair pinned trigger.

“Such a messy little slut. Getting off to the attention aren’t you?” You’re rendered dumb at his comment, Aizawa barely has to press his thumb into your chin before your mouth hangs open. You look up with glassy eyes, fingers sore from working against your pussy, chasing a high you can only imagine how fast Aizawa could steal from you. His expression is as neutral as always, but the despondency doesn’t quite shadow the fire burning in his eyes. You watch him lean forward slightly, a string of saliva falling downward to land against your tongue. His spit feels hot, you can taste the remnants of cigar and mint gum as you swallow.

You come undone in a litany of cries, pleading with your captor. His hold is passive as he looks at you, watching you cum against your fingers, the squelching sounds make his mouth dry. The only source of hydration is at the apex of your thighs. Visions flash before his eyes, images of what the curve of your breasts look like as he’s buried tongue deep, lapping you up post-orgasm and pushing you over once more for good measure.

Aizawa retreats, lest he pulls you against his mouth while your cunt is still pulsating, he needs to escape before your knees are pressed to your shoulders. He slams your door closed harshly, leaving you with the taste of his contempt for you on your bottom lip.

You’re quick to sleep, body falling into the warmth of unconsciousness coupled with dreams of what a certain set of fingers would feel like against you. How the scars and calluses would brush against your most intimate inches of spongy flesh, how he would stretch you.

You can almost feel the soreness in between your legs and the heavy slap of something against your stomach. You can almost remember the whispered confessional swimming in the back of your head, the soft grunts from above your sleeping form. As sunlight stretches across your sleep-stiff body, your hand trails down over your naked skin, maybe you aren’t the only one playing games this week.

You could have almost sworn you had gone to sleep with panties on.

The car ride to your father’s bar was filled with unflattering tension. You had protested in vain that going with Aizawa wasn’t necessary, but had been met with a dismissive, “I don’t trust you to behave.”

“I’m not a child, Eraser. I don’t see why I couldn’t just sit at home.” You wobble behind your escort, heeled boots clacking against the gravel.

As you enter the building, a young mop of violet hair flanks Aizawa down with a stack of papers. The man is nameless to you but is familiar enough to be assumed under your father’s thumb.

Aizawa looks over the document’s now held in front of him with care, rolling up the sleeves to his crisp dress shirt as his eyes scan the pages. You note the shimmering silvered skin of a scar under his left eye, pronounced by the harsh lighting surrounding you. His hair is held up partially by a tie, the loose strands framing his face.

“Are you listening to me, little girl?” You're snapped back from watching his mouth curling around syllables to actually make out what they’ve been saying.

“Go sit down, I’ll only be a few minutes.” You nod along and turn to perch at the bar, but stop at the grip pulling you back for one final order. “Don’t get yourself into trouble.”

Aizawa leaves you to stew in the subtle brush of his pointer finger against the tender skin of your wrist, he rubs the skin subtly before disappearing to the back rooms.

The minutes ticking by are agonizing. Aizawa, usually the epitome of brief, has been gone long enough for the condensation on your glass to mar the wood below it in countless ringlets. You twirl the straw against the strawberry liquor, willing time to crank by faster with the action. The drink in your veins isn’t nearly enough to get you drunk but does make the opening of the front door unnoticeable.

Your back is facing the heavy wood, unaware of the two strangers now approaching until the curdling sound of one man’s voice hits the shell of your ear.

“Well, well, look what we have here. Why don’t I buy you a drink, princess?” Each man steals one of your sides, enclosing you into a tight, predatory huddle.

“This is my bar. I don’t need you to buy me anything.” You try to shake off the nauseating feeling of their bodies so close to you, gut twisting uncomfortably as one man’s breath crawls across your shoulder blades. They’re both so close. Too close.

“Wow, this little kitty cat’s got some claws, don’t she?” You feel hands curl around each bicep, a bruising grip right below your armpits. Your body is hoisted up, your balance off at the jarring upheaval.

Possible escape routes flash across your mind but all seem impossible. Would trying to shake off the still faceless strangers even work? And even if you sprung free, would you make it to the back office before they caught up? Should you try to scream? Would Aizawa hear you?

Before you can make any moves, you feel the flat side of a knife at your collarbone. A chill rattles down your spine at the contact, two inches of metal keeping your entire body compliant.

Their intent is clear, you’ll be coming with them, and by the sharp point of a blade digging into the first layer of skin-- you’ll be coming quietly.

A mixture of shock and disbelief compels your body into compliance, dragging you to the front door and closer towards an awaiting trunk.

“Your carriage, princess.” You hear the shorter man on your right, his voice at your neck sounds waterlogged through the blood rushing in your ears. Any protests die at the knife against your skin, digging in shallowly and pricking a small trail of red along your clavicle.

A sharp snap sounds behind you, like a piece of thin wood under a heavy boot. One of your captors falls in a pile next to you. You’re turned around to meet a familiar pair of venomous, black eyes, Aizawa’s words roll from his tongue with a growl.

You’re pulled at the wrist, stumbling back into the strong chest of your appointed bodyguard.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with my bunny?”

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Uhmmm.... so I had a prompt idea. What if hero arrested villain, and handed him to the authorites, and he basically told her that he'd make her pay for it. Then hero goes to the prison for a different reason weeks later, where she sees villain, terrified, sick, and drugged. So, she reluctantly takes him home and cares for him. She is scared he will attack her when he's lucid, but when he does fully wake up, he's just terrified.

This is such a good idea! I saw your submission right before I went to bed and laid there thinking about it, so as you can see I was quite excited to write it.

Paying For It

Warnings: threats, horrible treatment by authorities, left to be sick, fever, blood, drugged, forced sedation, unconsciousness, nightmares, smoking mention, paralysis (due to sickness), sick animal analogy, delirium

~

"You will pay for this," he growled as the handcuffs clicked into place. "I will make you you pay for this and not by money, no-" a chuckle "- I will hurt you."

Hero shuddered as she walked down the icy path back to the same prison that she recently turned Villain into. Horrible thoughts of that said villain breaking out and torturing her flooded into her mind, making her already chilly veins even colder. She hugged her fleece tighter around her and adjusted her scarf, suddenly wishing she wore her winter coat.

Before she knew it, Hero was trotting up the steps towards the concrete building. It was, by design, barren yet strong.

She had some documents to bring to the office. There was a new supervillain in town, actually more like ten, but Hero only managed to get information about the one. They most likely moved in after the biggest threat around, Villain, was arrested.

She opened the door, closing it quietly, and walked up to the desk. The hero, a young boy, most likely a sidekick holding down the fort while his mentor went to do something else, sitting up there was lazily playing a video game on his phone.

Hero coughed to get his attention. The boy didn't respond.

"Hello?" Hero asked.

The boy startled, tossing his phone backwards. "I wasn't," he defended, "on my phone, I swear."

"Uh huh," Hero grunted, sliding the papers over to the boy. "Where's your boss?"

"Probably smoking or something," the boy chuckled, then stopped and looked at Hero with a nervously apologetic expression. "I shouldn't have- you weren't meant to know."

Hero shook her head and said, "I don't care about my colleagues personal habits, but can you get him for me?"

The boy nodded and rushed off, returning later with a stern looking man.

"Superhero," Hero acknowledged, nodding slightly. He smiled then looked at the papers on the desk.

"Are these about..." He looked up at Hero.

"The new villain, yes," Hero finished his sentence, crossing her arms.

"Good, very good," Superhero momentarily flipped through them. In that silence, a thought bubbled up in Hero's mind.

"How's Villain?" She asked. "It's been awhile."

Superhero's face paled, as his toe nervously tapped the floor. Hero raised an eyebrow.

"We've had some... issues, so Villain is spending sometime in detention," Superhero said. He coughed, then said in an overly joyful tone, "Thanks for this Hero, do you want me to escort you to your car?"

"I would actually like to see Villain. Maybe I can, you know, talk to him about his behavior," Hero declined the offer, stepping in front of the papers. Something isn't right...

"Well you see, that wouldn't be beneficial. If anything it would be detrimental towards Villain's... redemption," Superhero pointed out, unconsciously chewing at his lip.

"We aren't a redemption center, Superhero," Hero said quietly, almost a whisper. "Let me see Villain or-" Hero grabbed the papers and proceeded to rip them "- these aren't your's."

Superhero rushed forward, putting his hands on top of Hero's and slid the papers back towards him. He gave a tiny smile and consented to her request.

They walked down the corridor and then down a couple flight of stairs until they reached a steel door with three locks- all with different keys. Hero watched with a stoned expression, thinking about what would happen if one of those keys were unfortunately lost...

"He's in here," Superhero spoke, dancing on his feet.

Hero stepped into the dark room, recognizing the detention cell that she helped invent, and flipped on the lights.

In the corner of the capacious cell, was a huddled figure. His back was towards her, legs spread out. With a pang in her chest, Hero walked up to him.

"V-villain," Hero breathed and crouched next to the figure. Villain whimpered and pulled himself deeper into himself, but his legs didn't seem to be connected to his brain.

Hero gently rolled Villain's head up to face her and nearly gasped when she took in the sight. He looked like a sick, stray cat. Mucus drained out of his nose as vomit spewed out from the corner of his mouth. His half-lidded eyes were bloodshot and had deep eyebags underneath with dried blood coating his cheeks. He had multiple, nasty cold sores all around his lips- or were they infected cuts? Maybe both.

"Why is he in this state?" Hero asked, astounded. This violated so many regulations and rules- the prison could be shut down, many heroes arrested or fined.

Superhero didn't respond. Instead, he appeared at Hero's side and crouched down next to Villain. The villain who didn't even seem to be aware of their presences.

Hero grabbed one of the wrists that were so protectively cuddled next to Villain's chest. He whimpered, trying to resist Hero's touch.

"No," he mumbled. "No no no no. Don't give... m-more... that mm stop." Villain started to breath heavily, his already fast pulse speeding up. With a heavy heart, Hero knew without even looking that he was drugged badly.

"Superhero... why?" Hero squeaked, turning over a wrist to see them heavily bruised and still bleeding from his most recent dose.

Villain started thrashing, but his legs wouldn't move.

"Why can't he move?" Hero asked, running a hand along Villain's shoulder. "Why can't he move his legs?!"

Superhero inhaled deeply then said, "He's very sick, uh... he probably has some sort of infection that makes it hard for him to move his lower body. Maybe, I don't really know."

"You don't even know what's wrong with your prisoner," Hero scoffed in disbelief, dragging Villain's limp body into her lap. She tried not to notice the wetness seeping into her jeans. It would only infuriate her that such a sick person would be kept in a wet and cold cell on top of being drugged daily without any medicines to help kick his fever.

"He's sick."

Obviously.

"I'm taking him home," Hero said, and scooped his way too light form up. His legs dangled uselessly, head falling off towards the side.

"That's illegal," Superhero pointed out. "He is in our custody now."

"And where does our rules permit excessive use of sedatives," Hero said in the same, authoritive tone. "Minimal use only to relax a distressed prisoner and only when necessary. Also, never to the point of unconsciousness." Hero gestured with her head towards Villain's closed eyes.

"And where do they permit us heroes to contain a villain on private property?" Superhero tutted. "Set him down and let me do my job."

"I'll call the authorities," Hero threatened, "and take you to court."

Superhero groaned and threw his hands in the air. That was not a risk he could take.

"Fine," he growled, storming out of the room, leaving Hero in silence other than the slow dripping from a leaky pipe.

She quickly tore off her fleece and wrapped Villain's shivering body up. His eyes fluttered open and he mumbled something incoherently, but that was all as his eyelids slipped closed once again.

Then, she carried his ragdoll-like body out of the prison, down those steps, and into her car.

She laid Villain's limp form on one of the backseats, propping his lolling head against the window and buckled him in. His arms hung lifeless at his sides, legs completely devoid of strength.

With a nervous whimper, Hero sped home.

At home, Hero took a warm washcloth and wiped off the dried blood and mucus to reveal unevenly toned skin underneath. She delicately picked the dry crust off his eyelashes and eyebrows. It was rock hard and the warm water wouldn't loosen it, so she was forced to pull on the tiny hairs. At least he wasn't conscious for the pinpoints of pain.

Hero suddered, thinking about what would happen when he did wake up. Surely, he would keep to his word and hurt her, beating her up for imprisoning him and then of course this newfound dilemma.

She looked down at his sleeping form and sighed. She had him elevated to make sure his airways stayed clear, but his head kept falling to the side and onto the backrest of her daybed. His lips quivered, forming soundless words and pleas.

Hero gently touched his forehead, retreating at the burning heat. His eyes slowly blinked open at the contact, he moaned, and then they rolled back again and closed.

Hero sat next to him for rest of the day, worriedly anticipating his attitude upon awakening. However, as the hours went on and Villain didn't seem to be regaining consciousness too much, Hero realized that they would be in for a roughly long time.

Villain was probably drugged like that the moment he entered that building and judging by his health and state of his wrists, Hero also guessed that there was no care whatsoever during the admission or the aftercare.

Hero ran her fingers over Villain's pale cheeks. His mouth was parted open and he snored slightly from the congestion. Tears leaked from his eyes, irritating the tender skin below. Hero went and grabbed some lotion, smearing the white cream over the red rashes.

Villain jerked away suddenly, curling into himself and protectively guarding his arms. His heavy breathing went shallower and quicker as tiny noises escaped his mouth. Hero sighed and stopped touching him; he was likely trapped in a nightmare.

Hours turned into days, and only then was Villain awake enough to be aware of Hero's looming presence.

Though, his reaction was not what Hero was expecting.

He screamed, shoving himself and his weak form to a corner of the bed and gathering his leaden limbs into a huddled mass of burning skin. He shrieked and sobbed, and watched Hero with wide, exhausted eyes.

"Leave me alone!" He yelled, pulling up the covers in a bade to protect himself. "Please."

Hero never once in her life felt so utterly useless.

She was, like Villain promised she would, paying for her actions.

[gojocumslut]

Clandestine

CLANDESTINE

Synopsis: Student by day and stripper by night, what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: nsfw, smut, mature themes, teacher-student, blackmailing, yandere gojo noncon/dubcon, minors do not interact!

Word count: 870

a/n: Not proofread sorry for the errors in advance. Minors Dni.

.

Being a college student sure is a pain in the ass, sleepless nights, endless activities and financial needs are constantly killing you slowly. You are desperate to finish college and get a degree because this was your mother’s last wish before she left you. It’s a cruel world out there and education is the only key to guard you. So here you are, stripping in front of men who throw their money carelessly to quench their thirst and escape from their routines, Men who are hungry for attention who are willing to throw a thousand of dollars just to witness your enticing body and beauty. You made good money out of it, which you cannot deny. You can now afford to pay your rent on time, and but certain luxury, stripping has truly changed your life.

As you are dancing gracefully, dressed in the sultriest yet delicate lingerie, the crowd was rowdy and loud but that cannot possibly hinder you from seeing the person that you never expected to see. Your college professor, Gojo Satoru. Gojo is your professor in your major subject, he is a well respected man in the university coming from an elite family, and everybody wants to be him and to be with him. It is undeniable that he is gorgeous this man is a gift from heaven alone. As you finished dancing you immediately went on backstage and took a rest wondering if it was really him and if it was really him what will happen to you and what are your repercussions, your thoughts was cut short when your boss called you. “Hey Y/N private dance in room 7” she said as she puffed her cigarette.

“Boss, you know I don’t do private dances” you replied “This one’s special, he paid a ton plus he’s friends with the owner, come on I’ll give you half of it.” “The things I do for money…” you muttered. You dressed yourself in a white lacy lingerie and retouched your make-up and went straight to the room you were assigned. As soon as you open the door you are greeted by a pair of blue ocean eyes with a smirk. “Oya so this is the reason why you always fall asleep in my class, what are you waiting for darling entertain me then” You played the music and started dancing and grinding on him. “Please don’t tell anyone professor and what happens to minding your own business? As far as I’m concerned what happens outside the university isn’t a violation” you replied as you continue dancing “cheeky aren’t we? This could actually ruin our image and could actually get you expelled especially I am the witness” He replied. “Enough with the talk what do you want gojo” you hissed.

“Now now that’s now the right way to address me y/n, I just want you to entertain me” As the music stopped and he slipped a couple of dollars in your bra and whispered “Get dress and meet me in the parking lot after”. You are shocked and perplexed, you know better than to disobey him, your job and your college life is on the line.

.

As soon as you went out you immediately spotted his car and entered, before you could respond he pulled you and straddled his waist and he captured your lips with a desperate hungry kiss. The tension was overwhelming, his hands on you was everywhere, as soon as you realized you are both naked. “I’ve been eyeing you for a while now y/n, I know everything about you, quit your job and be my bitch instead or else I’ll ruin you completely, you do know what I’m capable of don’t you?” He said in between the kisses. He then cupped your sex and slid 2 fingers and started stroking you. He then sucked one of your breasts like a beast and leave a trail of wet kisses up your shoulder.

He inserted his thick and long length on you pussy without adjusting and continued to pound on you like there’s no tomorrow. “ you fucking desperate bastard ngghhh… you didn’t even nggh,l-let me adjust ughhhh…” he then guides you with his hands on your waist, you felt so full and you can fell his warm member stretching you to the fullest even bruising your cervix. “f-fucking tight cunt, so good, I’m gonna breed you and you’re gonna take it all like a big girl.” Not long after you come he loaded your womb with his thick cum, he came so much it’s seeping down from your pussy. You both catch your breath for a good minute before he pulls out and the cum is oozing from your cunt. He scoops it out with his finger and inserted it back to you cunt againt. “Don’t let it go to waste sweet cheeks, they’re like gold and by the way you’re my bitch now”. You can’t possibly refuse him for your life will be ruined; maybe this is a punishment for doing a clandestine activity.

[whimsicallyreading]

An angsty one-shot for your day. I stayed up way too late to write this.

CW- drinking

Aelin keeps the letters stacked neatly on her desk.

Each letter is stamped, addressed, and ready to mail. In tiny marks on the back, she writes the date every individual one was written. The envelopes are his favorite shade of green. A deep, pine color that she’d painstakingly scoured every stationary shop to find.

Delicately, Aelin seals the latest envelope and adds it to the growing pile.

My Love,

It’s almost winter here in Orynth. I know it’s your favorite season and you are probably sad to miss out, so I took a Polaroid of the clouds coming in over the staghorns for you.

Do you remember how we’d sit in front of Mistward every year and watch the first snow storm come in over the peeks? We would drink hot chocolate and talk for hours. About our families, our futures, anything and everything. It’s still one of my favorite traditions.

In fact, it’s where I am right now. Writing this letter to you. Just because you are overseas doesn’t mean you get to bail out. I bought two hot chocolates, but I suppose I’ll have to drink yours for you. What a shame.

Writing to Rowan was her weekly tradition since he got deployed. No matter how busy life got, every Friday she wrote him two full pages front to back. Whether she got to sit at her desk or had to scribble against the rusty bench at the bus stop, every inch was covered in her hand writing.

That was her personal rule. They had to be handwritten. Aelin felt it meant more that every piece of the letter was entirely from her. So she keeps a collection of colored pens handy for whenever the urge to speak to her husband grows to be too much.

At the bottom of the last page, next to her signature, Aelin always kisses the paper with red lipstick. Maybe it’s cheesy, but it’s the same shade she wore at their wedding.

You could see the ghosts of the color along his jawline in their favorite photos together. His beaming smile, the smudges of red on his face and the collar of his white dress shirt. A remnant from the happiest day of her life she thought would bring him comfort.

My love,

Winter is here! It’s so cold outside. You would say it’s this frigid every year, but it just feels different this time. Maybe it’s because you aren’t hear to snuggle up with and your side of the bed is empty? You were always so warm.

I keep your slippers by the couch. They are ridiculously huge on my feet, but I swear they still feel like you just walked in them. Your warmth is still there.

You would laugh if you saw me hobbling around the apartment in them. My toes slide all over the place. Truthfully, your feet are atrociously large, dear- Still they remind me of you, so I love them.

Aelin gets home late from work that night.

Humiliated tears sting her cheeks, even as she rubs them away. The feeling of that creep, Cairn’s, hands lingering on her ass.

She was used to fending off handsy patrons. What bothered Aelin is that when she complained to her boss, Erawan, he publicly berated her for instigating the customers.

None of the other waitresses would meet her eye when she looked for back up. Grave, the bartender, sniggered through the entire dressing down. Aelin could still feel their eyes on her skin as Erawan accused her of being provocative.

Rowan would have demanded she quit the job. He would have marched down to the bar and broken Cairn’s face. Possibly even held him back so Aelin could do it herself.

Aelin needs the money, though. Rowan’s accounts were frozen due to some stupid technicality at the bank. Without her paycheck, she would lose the apartment.

Sniffling, Aelin slides her feet into Rowan’s slippers and plops at her desk. It isn’t Friday yet, but she’s desperate to speak to him.

As her hand flows across the paper, Aelin knows she won’t describe the days events to him. He’s under enough stress without her work drama adding to his worries.

My love,

Yulemas is next week. Aedion is in Caraverre with Lysandra and our new nephew. Lorcan and Elide are going up from Perranth to stay with them, but the roads are so frozen in Orynth I may just stay here this year.

Besides, work is busy right now. They need someone to man the place for the people with nowhere to go for the holidays.

Maybe I’ll host a little celebration at the bar. Like we did that one year when we got stuck in the Hostel in Rifthold. We made the best of a bad situation, and it was the first time you told me you loved me. I think I’d like to relive a little of that this year.

I miss you. Please come home.

Aelin lays in her bed the night before Yulemas and sobs.

Ugly, guttural noises spill from her chest and she soaks their pillows with tears. The newest envelope is clutched against her chest, and the building stacks mock her from their spot across the room.

Her heart is so raw. Aelin knew it was a bad idea to count the letters, but there was so many. Curiosity got the better of her, and now she was bleeding for her mistake.

Fifty-six.

A full year of letters she hadn’t been able to send.

Rowan had only ever written her twenty before he was declared missing in action.

A year ago, she’d been hanging bobbles and decorating a tree knowing her husband only had a few weeks left of his tour.

Aelin had painted a welcome home banner, and her whole family made plans to come and spend the holiday with the soon-to-be-reunited couple.

She had his slippers waiting by the door. Rowan’s favorite blanket was laundered and folded on his side of the bed in case he wanted to lay down. Aelin had it on good authority that the bed would be one of the first places they visited when he arrived. Emerys had even given her a mixture of their favorite hot chocolate to make.

Everything was perfectly in place for his return.

That’s what when the soldiers arrived at her door and her world fell apart.

Lorcan came home a week later. He hugged Elide and she cried into his shoulder. Happy tears. So unlike the ones Aelin had been shedding. Her friend beamed ear-to-ear, as the love of her life gathered her into his arms and squeezed.

It was a touching sight, but Aelin could feel the hot knife being twisted in her chest. Elide’s happiness caused her physical pain, and it made her feel so selfish. She didn’t begrudge Lorcan his life, or Elide her joy- Aelin just missed her own husband.

Elide and Lorcan spent Yulemas together. Kissing and holding hands. Lysandra finally announced her pregnancy. Aedion’s expression when he opened the box with the baby onesie inside was priceless. Her cousin whooped and hollered, almost dancing with the prospect of becoming a father.

Aelin smiled. She gave her congratulations and celebrated with her family. They hugged, and laughed. Aedion took care to include her in everything, and she played her part even as she tried to ignore the concerned looks her family exchanged behind her back.

Aelin made it to lunch before she couldn’t take it anymore.

Fenrys was the one to find her having a panic attack on the bathroom floor. She hadn’t even known it was a panic attack. Aelin just assumed the pain of losing her soulmate was finally killing her. The tightening of her chest and the body aches felt enough like a heart attack to be convincing.

He gathered Aelin in his arms and counted breaths with her. His twin brother Connal was lost in the same fight where Rowan had gone down. Fen had seen the whole thing from the cockpit of his plain, and nothing he did could’ve saved them.

He shared his pain, and for the first time Aelin felt like someone understood her.

Fenrys let her lean on him as they excused themselves from the celebrations. They drove to some bar in Caraverre and spent the rest of the day wallowing over whiskey.

Aedion came to collect their drunken asses later that evening. Worry etched into every line of his kind face. It only made her feel ashamed that she’d rained all over their happy day.

He was going to be a father, and she’d forced him to spend his time fretting over her instead of reveling in that news.

Now here she was a year later. Aelin wasn’t going to subject herself to that again. Couldn’t. She wouldn’t force her grief upon anyone else this year, either. Just because she was hurting didn’t mean that everyone else had to suffer with her.

So, as Yulemas Eve came, and before she could finally distract herself with work, Aelin pulled Rowan’s blanket over herself. She’d spritzed it with his cologne, donned his shirt, and pulled his socks over her feet. Aelin did everything she could to feel surrounded by him.

Then, alone in their bed, she watched as the clock ticked down to midnight.

Rowan,

Wherever you are, I hope my words reach you and that you know you aren’t alone. I wish with every ounce of my being that I could trade places with you- would give anything, just to know where you are.

It breaks my heart, to be without you. Every breath seems pointless. I lied in my last letter. The roads aren’t frozen. I’m not needed at work. No one really needs me to be around them. I just couldn’t spend another holiday surrounded by happy people when the other half of my heart is gone from me.

When you come home, I will feel like celebrating again. I’ll wrap my arms around you, and we can make up for lost time. Just please, don’t make me wait too much longer.

Merry Yulemas, my love. We will be together again one day.

Until then, I’ll keep on writing, only so long as you don’t yield.

Sincerely, your loving wife

Aelin

[uelden]

Vanity Fair interview translated

Just a side note before the actual translation; I don't know why, but instead of reporting the full questions and answers in full as she should, the journalist decided to report only summarized fragments of what Måneskin said and patch these fragments up into messy clusters. She also worded a couple phrases in a very confusing way (and yes, she's fully Italian). In short, she did quite a poor job, so the final shape of the interview is not that good. I didn't expect top-tier journalism from Vanity Fair but ffs. You'll see what I mean.

I translated it as it is, adding just a couple footnotes to give you insight on Italian pop culture references.

Translation under the cut

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

by Lavinia Farnese, 09 June 2021

"True justice is being judged for what you do and not for what you are." The ones who are convinced of this are Damiano, Victoria, Ethan and Thomas who, by being the emblem of a generation that is finally free, refuse labels and conformism. In life, in love and on the stage. Where, maybe precisely because of this, they're winning everything

With the still unexpected (first place at Sanremo Festival) and the incredible (triumph at Eurovision) in their eyes, Måneskin are on the sofa of the house-studio they rented - to resume writing songs and rehearsing them - like you are after a won battle: lying in a calm and unreal silence, alert and a bit irreverent, happy.

In the garden there's the tennis table and the pool, the light of summer when it's starting and calming the country all around, and it filters inside from the large windows, and it goes onto the shining black of Ethan's hair, which blends with Thomas' eye shadow and the butterfly he has tattooed oh his naked forearm, which completes the picture of Victoria's golden crucifix hanging between neck and tank top and ends on the black nail polish of Damiano's stretched hands.

It's a human fresco, a Theatre of wrath [translator's note: "Teatro d'ira"] - to call it with the title of their latest album, a platinum record already - where their flaunted 20 years of age, their irregular femininity and virility are grown into proud and challenging custom, a pop glam rock generational manifesto of hard-earned liberties in a finally-unconditional expression of the self.

To watch them from any angle and from another age is to think that a great love will be born in those who'll understand: this new way of being in the world, the true and sovereign realm they hold where "diversity=exceptionality", the power of the artistic and cultural revolution of which they are healthy carriers in establishing in all lyrics and gestures the right to live according to one's own nature past the "people (who) talk, the people (who) unfortunately talk, and don't know what the fuck they're talking about." [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

We go where we're afloat, where the air isn't gone. [tn: journalist's own variation on "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

Miley Cyrus says hi – The numbers of a phenomenon

"The streams of Zitti e buoni are growing by the second, and they bring us above Muse, at the top of English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. Followers almost tripled, in the post-Rotterdam period (from 1,4 to 3,3 millions, ed.) Contagious and universal folly: t-shirts and merchandising sold out in 10 minutes. Like the records, the tickets for a tour that keeps adding dates and expanding over geographic maps. They're contacting us even from some festivals were The Rolling Stones went." Thomas

"After the pretextual controversy over cocaine that France built against us, later disproven by my drug test, some graffiti popped up in Spain depicting me as a “No drugs” poster guy. Some tweets made us laugh: "Congratulations, Italy! I've never been more certain that four people have had sex with each other." Miley Cyrus started following us -You're great. -You guys are greater." Damiano

From the garage to the stars – Story of a flight

"It was only 2016, and we played in restaurants, in the streets, in via del Corso. Damiano without even a microphone, Thomas' guitar with wonky strings, Ethan was drumming on a cajón. During Rome highschools' sit-ins (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first confirmations and half-hours of celebrity, playing among those who criticized us and those who went "wow they're really cool." One of the rare times when they would have paid us – 50 euros each – we gave the money to the next band in the lineup so that they would make us play in their spot, later in the day, when there would have been more people. We had already realized how things worked. Visibility mattered more than money. And we still think that." Victoria

The intimacy of rock – Choice of a genre

"Music allows us the miracle of extending to others some very personal and private topics, sometimes even difficult and thorny ones. They are and they remain deeply your own, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage that is alike a delivery, they find a place in you as well, a processing of them. You overcome them, you accept them. One second it's something aggressive, the next it's a ballad. Cathartic». Damiano

Against panic – The stage as therapy

"I've suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it's an issue I've worked on thanks to a psychotherapy course, my friends and my family. Playing helped me in not letting myself be paralyzed by my fears, not making myself limited in my private and professional life. I've learned to accept, to live with this side of myself. I don't hide it. I don't feel ashamed of it." Victoria

Analysis as necessity – Relying on someone saves you

"This belief that only madmen go to the psychologist is a widespread ignorance. No-one's born learned. [tn: common Italian saying] And it's often hard to understand the very reason why we're here, let alone the origin and direction of our desires. It's a long and legitimate journey towards lucidity, a kind of backing to become transparent." Damiano

Being out of our minds – But different from them [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

"When you feel a strong passion towards something that is not a canonical job but an artistic language, that already puts you on a level of anomaly, which is not superior or inferior to other people, but it puts you in the position of the one who breaks the mold and also works at a loss, the one who sustains great risks while trying to do something that who knows if it will take you anywhere. "Why do it if it doesn't pay?". You want to give this dream of yours an aesthetic, but it becomes "You're dressing so weird! You must be gay!" - now that I'm 22 I laugh about it, but when I was 17 it had an effect on me, too." Damiano

The beauty of uniqueness – Of believing in it and defending it

"And I mean, at the end of the day if we're all different it's not because we want be alternative but because, really, no-one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty." Ethan

Fluid sexuality – Pride is freedom

"Heels for men that like themselves in them, kisses among ourselves, we have an open, extended mind, and we're proud of it. The horizons become vast, past the oppression of conservative families. With the information on the web knowledge becomes greater and with it the possibility that minorities will be less and less minorities, because the majority will be less of a majority. This way we'll make insults and bullying grow quieter. If social media get to a village of 50 souls and reveal to a girl who's afraid of the dark that someone has felt her same fear, then there's no reason to give a name to that fear, to mark it with labels which also limit and restrict. Definitions always had this effect on me. You shouldn't even consider the gender when judging someone, let alone their orientation." Victoria

Sexism – A culture to be dismantled

"Emma [tn: Emma Marrone, Italian singer] drops the bomb: “At Eurovision when I was there they massacred me for a pair of shorts, while they said nothing to Damiano – bare-chested and in heels.” The easy judgment against women is more fierce, constant, debasing (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool while Vic is a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader while Vic is despotic and a pain in the ass who reached success because she's hot.) As a male I'm privileged, the abuse I get is not comparable to those a woman has to live through, the comments over my aesthetic are centered only on my aesthetic and don't insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thought in a systematic way. It happened though to find myself standing with a woman who while pulling me to herself to take a selfie, started licking my face out of the blue... I mean, what the hell do you want? Who asked you? Consent exists, and it's due." Damiano

Grow yourself – The only commandment

"To me conformism is the opposite of education [tn: could also mean "politeness"] and is the asphyxia of expression. I fortunately never endured heavy bullying, heavy enough for the the judgement of others to change me. But the mold of the small crumbs of bullying I got and of the kind of aggression that scars is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and likes dolls you have to let me do what I like. I was a kid who wanted to keep his hair long and played with Barbie. As a teen, my friends looked at my hair: " You have to find a girl with short hair to be at your side." My grandparents took away my dolls: "Stop it, they're not for you." Ethan

"When I was six I was already sick of them, the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things that were typically defined as girly, and all around me they mocked me because I went skateboarding, I played soccer, I didn't wear skirts, I was giving myself the chance to be as I wished. I endured it a little, I suffered a little, but I had courage, and now thanks to that courage I know that I could have gotten even much more hurt, otherwise I would have left to others the most important choice: the one about myself." Victoria

Love in progress – Music, girlfriends

"I've been married to music for the last 20 years. I can't wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary." Ethan

"Everyone makes their own experiences, sometimes it goes well, sometimes it goes wrong, but it's always not anybody's business." Thomas

"When I first felt feelings and attraction towards a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage of going beyond the limitations I had put for myself. For society being heterosexual is the norm and so you often define yourself in that way automatically, depriving yourself of the freedom to live many shades and faces of love. Once I overcame the initial insecurity of having to call into question my certainties I've lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone." Victoria

"I had paparazzi at my door every day and night. So, after four years of relationship, I revealed her name. I still have paparazzi at my door every day and nigh, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore." Damiano

The worth of the group – Phenomenology of protection

"The true engagement though, the true family is among ourselves, our band. We've believed in it since day zero, even before we called ourselves Måneskin (Moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon on the flier for the first concert we ever did. We share everything, even the pain for the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because of racism. [tn: I think the journalist asked them their opinion about Seid Visin's death, which was a current events topic in Italy, and then pasted it syntaxically in the middle of Thomas' answer, which was not a great move] A group is what we all should be: stay united and not back down an inch in the face of oppression that is generated by a distorted view of diversity." Thomas

I'm not of the right age – Like Gigliola [tn: Gigliola Cinquetti won Eurovision with her song "Non ho l'età", which means "I'm not of the right age"]

"Before you the only one who won both Sanremo and Eurovision on the same year was Cinquetti (1964). If there's anything I feel I'm not of the right age for? No, honestly no. Maybe having children. Regarding children I'll be honest: I'm not of the right age." Damiano

Having touched the sky – The fears that remain

"We're more than inside the dream, we're in the conquered dream. When you fly high there's the risk of plummeting and hurting yourself, but we'll work hard not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - a bit pretentiously - reassures us rather than scaring us." Damiano

[asset35-maya]

.When the party’s over.

>REINITIALISING…

>ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE

>WIRELESS CHARGING: 69%

>RK900 SYSTEM HEALTH: STABLE

>24H FILE RECOVERY: 45%

Nines slowly regained consciousness. He was lying on his side and everything around him was quiet.

>ENVIRONMENTAL SCAN IN PROGRESS…

>THREAT ANALYSIS IN PROGRESS…

Layers of fabric covered his body and something soft and warm was pressed against his face. Eyes still shut, he nudged it gently with his nose and it emitted a low vibration.

>2% THREAT DETECTED: FELINE SUBJECT

The cat sprang upwards and hopped off the surface that Nines was lying on. It was ostensibly a bed, but Nines didn’t own any furniture apart from a couch and work table. The logical conclusion was that he was not in his own apartment.

>RUN LOCALISATION PROGRAM: Y/N?

>Y

>ERROR: PROGRAM FAILED TO EXECUTE

>ERROR: MEMORY FILE CORRUPTION

Nines had no absolutely recollection of his whereabouts or how he had arrived. He had not been compromised as his system health was stable, so there was probably another reason for being completely disoriented. It was voluntary.

He had gotten the android equivalent of blackout drunk.

It was not the first time and he feared it would not be the last. Such were the hard-partying ways of his friends and colleagues. They were all terrible influences. He loved them dearly, but they were terrible.

At 6PM every Friday, Chen and Miller would start things off rather innocently. “Hey there’s a new brewery downtown.” Or “My bartender cousin just hooked us up with a thirty percent discount!”

From there it wouldn’t take long for the DPD’s resident frat boys Connor and Gavin to gather a steady crowd of officers and check out the venue. If the vibes were good (which they almost always were), Sixty would get wind of things. Then the rest of the frat house would descend and total chaos would reign until the break of dawn.

SWAT Unit 32 was famous for its particularly destructive brand of revelry. Skinny dipping in private swimming pools, scaling skyscraper rooftops and causing media scandals were all par for the course. The day after Captain Allen’s birthday, the DPD crew spent the entirety of their bonuses to repair the collapsed ceiling of the Eden Club.

Nines couldn’t remember how he exactly he was coopted into the madness. Probably peer pressure. Connor insisted that he try thirium alcohol. Sixty said that he would regret being a loser and not joining them. Gavin had just held out a hand and double-winked. That did the trick.

One night blended into another and soon Nines had worked up quite a reputation of his own. He was the Casanova of the homicide department. The handsome devil… the hunter… the sex god. People would actually come by his desk and congratulate him on Monday morning.

Nines hated it but he couldn’t stop himself from doing the same thing over and over. Perhaps it was the appreciative clap on the shoulder from Gavin the morning after Sixty posted photos of a high-end Traci model giving Nines his very first lap dance.

Life at the DPD was the epitome of work hard, play hard. It seemed like one big party but deep down Nines knew they were all just slaves to their compulsions. He wondered whether it was because they needed to celebrate every demon they vanquished or whether they needed to wipe the troubling memories of doing so.

In Nines case, there were definitely things he needed to kill within himself. Some were nightmare inducing crime scenes, but some were memories so heart-wrenchingly sweet that he thought he might self-destruct if he were to dwell on them too long. There were things he couldn’t have and things he needed to erase from his brain.

Something touched his face gently.

>PERIPHERAL OBJECT DETECTED: HUMAN HAND

>THREAT ANALYSIS: NON-COMBATIVE

The hair on his forehead was brushed aside and fingers ran over his features. A thumb swept over his bottom lip and caressed his cheek.

Nines couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes and come face to face with his most recent conquest. He lay still, frozen with regret as the hand continued to stroke his face.

The hand travelled down his neck and fell upon his chest. Nines caught it abruptly. It wasn’t even the month-end and his savings were badly depleted. He couldn’t afford round two. He retracted the synth skin down to his wrist and prepared the electronic payment credentials.

Fingers merely intertwined with his.

“Just take your money and go. I’ll tip extra if you delete everything from your hard drive.”

“What the phck are you talking about?”

Nines eyes flew open. Steel blue met storm green.

>SYSTEM ALERT: THIRIUM PUMP OVERLOAD

“Fuck!”

“Wow that’s flattering.”

Nines pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes in a vain attempt to remember what had led to this absolute, unmitigated disaster.

“What the hell happened last night?”

Gavin looked affronted.

“You ruined our housewarming for one.”

>MEMORY ARCHIVE SEARCH: housewarming, Gavin

>RESULT: TEXT MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM “G.REED” IN GROUPCHAT “CLUBBERCOPS”, 15:33 18 JULY 2040: Assholes. Party at our new place. Next Friday. From seven till LATE. Bring booze, bring bitches. Nah. Actually, don’t. Our landlord’s a bastard and we already got three noise complaints.

>RESULT: TEXT MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM “CONMAN” IN GROUPCHAT “CLUBBERCOPS”, 15:34 18 JULY 2040: Yeah we should keep this one PG. Bring food if you wanna eat. This mf can’t cook and I don’t care to. See y’all!!

Oh right. Fuck. Gavin’s housewarming. Gavin and Connor’s housewarming. His two closest friends who were somehow even closer to one another. Nines hadn’t realised until it was far too late and there was nothing for him to do but smother the bitterness with his favourite coping mechanisms: android alcohol and paid sex.

The circumstances definitely explained the state he was in, but things still didn’t add up.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Did we… did we…”

“No. Nothing happened between us. You were completely shitfaced. I just put you to bed to stop you from embarrassing yourself.”

Nines looked up at the ceiling, struggling to put the pieces together. His system offered him no useful prompts. The fermented thirium had done its job of code corruption extremely well. He looked back down and met the green eyes focused on him with deep concern.

“What did I do?”

“Sixty has videos, but I don’t think you want to see them. God, Nines… why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I’m really sorry, Gavin. I didn’t mean to ruin your night… and Connor’s.”

“He’s fine. He and Sixty moved the crew to Hank’s place. Which is what we should have done in the first place… there’s really no point throwing a party in this shoebox and telling people like Tina Chen to be quiet. Honestly if it wasn’t you it would have been her bringing the house down. Good thing they had all of Michigan Drive to tear up. Hank’s neighbours can sleep though a bombing.”

“What did I do?”

Gavin put his hand back on Nines’ face, his expression unintelligible. The human touched him often enough, but never like this. Never so intimately. Nines forced down the twisting sensation in his torso. He couldn’t get his hopes up. This was pity.

Nines braced himself to hear the worst. He prepared for the shredding of all his dignity and the collapse of his falsely extroverted and confident identity.

What came though was a soft press of lips to his forehead.

“It wasn’t pretty and I wish it hadn’t happened like that, but I think it was a long time coming… I’ve never seen you so emotional before. I’m sorry I didn’t notice anything all this while.”

“Gavin, please.”

“I’m going to focus on the positives, because really… there were a LOT of negatives. Oh boy. You… uh…”

“Gavin.”

The detective dipped his head and looked away.

“Phck, I shouldn’t be so embarrassed…

You told me you loved me.”

Nines closed his eyes. That was it. He should quit his job and move to another state. Hell, he should go to Cyberlife and request a factory reset on compassionate grounds.

“I’m so sorry. I… I should leave.”

He made to sit up, but was pushed back into the mattress. Gavin curled into his side.

“Nah. You’re good.”

“What?”

“You threw up on my plants and smashed Connor’s RA9 sculpture, buuuut you’re good.”

“I don’t understand.”

Gavin wrapped his arms around Nines and edged closer until the android was forced to turn on his side and reciprocate.

“What do you think, genius? If a guy like me doesn’t throw a guy like you out of the house after all that… what does it mean?”

“That you have a high tolerance for toxic friendships?”

“It means I want you to stick around, dipshit.”

>SYSTEM ALERT: THIRIUM PUMP RATE FLUCTUATIONS. OVERLOAD IMMINENT.

“You mean you like me?”

“Of course I do! I always have, but it never seemed right to bring it up. We’re actually really good friends. I didn’t think it would be possible when we first met but we have so much in common.”

“Bad habits for sure.”

“Come on, Nines. We’ve had a really great time together. Some of my best memories at the DPD are with you. Don’t ever quote me on it but you’re a phcking amazing partner. Can’t believe you thought I had something going with Connor when it’s always been you.

So yeah, I do like you. And I’m willing to try… I dunno… being with you. Like for real.

Stop drinking like that, though. I know I’m a hypocrite but you really scared me last night. I lost my Dad and I nearly lost Hank to the bottle. You might be this super advanced android, but that liquid courage shit is a death trap, man.”

>SYSTEM ERROR: THIRIUM PUMP AT MAX FLOW RATE. PUMP OVERLOAD. REDUCE PRESSURE IMMEDIATELY!

Nines nodded quickly and blinked away the tears that welled up in his eyes. Gavin grasped the android’s chin and tipped his face down gently. Their eyes fluttered shut simultaneously and their lips met.

>SYSTEM RECOVERY MESSAGE: THIRIUM PUMP FUNCTIONALITY RESTORED

They broke apart after several golden moments and Gavin hugged Nines tightly under the sheets.

“What am I supposed to say to the others? I don’t think I can look any of them in the eye ever again.”

“Are you serious? You got nothing on the insanity that bunch is capable of. Sixty thinks he’s hot shit with his blackmail material, but I got receipts that’ll glue his mouth shut for decades. Anyway, that’s what friends are meant to be like. You have dirt on each other but you’re not meant to use it.

The same applies to us too, by the way. Don’t feel like you gotta be… apologetic about what happened last night. Yeah, you better replace my fancy new plants but I’ll never judge you for what happened. I want you to know that I’ll always be in your corner, Nines.”

Nines hummed thoughtfully and ran a hand though Gavin’s hair, marvelling at the fact that he could now do so whenever he wanted. He didn’t say anything in response, and just settled for cuddling closer to the human.

>>RK900 SYSTEM HEALTH: EXCELLENT

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 30: Likeness

Draco Malfoy had spent his entire life being shaped and molded into the image and likeness of Lucius Malfoy.

It had always been assumed that he would go into politics, that he would settle down with a nice pureblood girl and have a child. His life had always been laid out before him like it had already happened.

But the summer Draco turned 18 he left. He left his family, left his friends, left the wizarding world all together. Draco cut his hair short on the sides and let the top grow out and then he dyed it pink.

He got a muggle tattoo; bright, beautiful flowers to cover up the dark mark: new life conquering death.

And he got a job dancing at a strip club. He was good at it, he had the body for it, for the corsets and the tiny panties, for the heels that made his legs look miles long. The muggle glitter made his pale, muscular body shimmer under the lights. He had the face for it, his eyes mysterious and otherworldly enough that the make-up only enhanced it.

He was a very popular act and Draco enjoyed the whole affair. He enjoyed people watching him, desiring him. It wasn't a forever career but it served him well.

It continued to serve him well for four whole years, before one night when the lights came up and he strut out onto the stage, rolling his hips and letting his hands caress his body, and just as he was reaching for the pole his eyes snagged on a pair of eyes he would have recognized anywhere.

It felt like eternity passed in the beat of the song he missed as he found Harry Potter staring back at him from the audience. A jolt of something electric skittered down his spine and Draco forced himself to look away and start dancing.

(Read more below the cut)

He hooked his leg around the pole and began his routine, falling into the familiar motions, spinning, and rolling, and flipping, using every ounce of strength and control he possessed.

And he very intentionally did not allow his eyes to stray to Potter.

Even without looking, though, he knew that he had the other man's undivided attention. It had been so long since he'd felt the heat of Potter's gaze on him that he'd almost forgotten what it was like to be the center of his attention.

At the very end, as he was collecting the notes that had been thrown at him, he allowed himself one more look.

Potter had grown up. He'd grown taller and his body had filled out, it was almost hard to believe that he was the same boy who'd come to Hogwarts looking malnourished, weak, and filthy to fight the most dangerous wizard to ever live. His hair had grown out, too, it was pulled back into a messy bun, and he'd grown in a beard that he kept trimmed neatly.

He had the sudden urge to feel the scrape of his beard on all of the sensitive places on his body, to sink his fingers into Potter's curls as his mouth tasted Draco's skin.

He made eye contact, and his arousal spiked at the look of sheer want in the other man's eyes. In that moment, Draco felt like the most powerful man in the entire world.

The man sitting next to Potter, a muggle that Draco didn't recognize, punched him in the shoulder and the moment dissipated like smoke.

With a quick shake of the head, he finished collecting his money and disappeared back stage without looking at him again.

That night he wondered what would come of Potter seeing him, wondered if he'd find reporters from the Prophet at the show the next night, worried that his world was crashing down around him.

But he couldn't seem to stop wondering if he might see Potter again.

------------

Potter returned the next night, and the next, and the next, and so on for the following month.

Every time Draco stepped onto the stage, Potter was there in the crowd watching. And he found himself watching Potter more and more, until one night he spent nearly his entire scene watching the other man, he might as well have used Potter as a spot to keep himself from getting dizzy.

It was that night that he decided enough was enough. He had to find out why Potter was here and what he wanted. After his performance he changed quickly, pulling on a pair of skinny jeans and a plain black t-shirt. He slipped into a pair of trainers and headed out of his dressing room and toward the door that led into the club.

Potter was no where to be seen when he came in so he went outside and saw him walking down the sidewalk. "Potter!" he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth.

The other man froze before turning slowly to look at him.

Draco jogged to catch up to him but found that he wasn't quite sure what to say once he was standing in front of him.

"Uh," the other man said inelegantly, rubbing the back of his neck, "Hey."

"Hey?" Draco spluttered incredulously. "You show up to every single one of my performances for the past month and that is all you have to say? Hey?"

"You're very talented," Potter offered.

"Yes," he replied.

Potter snorted, "Humble as ever, I see."

"Why should I be humble? I am talented," he said, tilting his chin up defiantly. "I've worked hard to get where I am."

"Sorry," Potter said, trying to backpedal, "I didn't-" he shook his head. "I'm not sure what to say to you. I didn't mean to offend you."

"I'm not offended," Draco replied. He crossed his arms, wishing he'd brought a jacket, "Just," he huffed, "tell me why."

"Why what?"

"Why you keep coming to watch me dance!"

Potter looked at him for a long moment, "Are you cold?" he asked.

"Yes," he replied, because it was true. Potter started to shrug off his jacket, "You don't have to do th-" but his protest fell on deaf ears as he looped it over Draco's shoulders.

"I've asked myself that very same question a thousand times," Harry replied. "In part, I think it's because so many people just stayed the same. It's why I left the wizarding world for the most part, everyone wanted me to be who I'd always been and I didn't want that anymore. I wanted to be allowed to grow and change. And you've obviously done that, too."

"So, what you felt like we were kindred spirits or something?" he asked.

"Sort of," Potter replied, lazily lifting one shoulder, "But you're just nothing like what I imagined you turn out to be and it made me wonder what else I was wrong about when it came to you."

"And you thought the best way to figure it out was by watching me pole dance?"

Potter laughed and rubbed the back of his neck again, "I don't know. I couldn't figure out what to do," he confessed. "I didn't know how to talk to you."

"Still," Draco said, "there has to be more to it than that."

"You're also bloody gorgeous," Potter added, "when you dance. And I really like watching you."

"Oh?"

He nodded, "I'd wondered a little bit before I saw you again if part of my obsession with you at Hogwarts was actually attraction that I just hadn't understood at the time."

"And?" he asked.

"Well, obviously seeing you again confirmed it." Potter looked down and scuffed his toe on the sidewalk.

In a moment of bravery that he'd never quite be able to understand later, Draco stepped forward, caught Potter's chin and pressed their lips together.

Potter took a surprised gasp, sucking a bit of Draco's air into his mouth before he started to kiss him back. His hands moved to cup Draco's face as he kissed him softly, gently like Draco was something precious, something treasured.

He'd been kissed a lot but he'd never been kissed like this. He'd never been kissed with such single-minded devotion, never been kissed like he was someone instead of something. Potter licked into his mouth, stroking his tongue over Draco's as one of his hands slid down to Draco's waist, drawing him a bit closer.

After a long moment, Potter pulled back first, "We should get off the sidewalk," he said.

"Logical," Draco replied.

"Could I take you to dinner?"

The corner of Draco's mouth tipped up, "I don't usually have dinner with my one night stands."

"Well, maybe I could not be a one night stand?" Potter said. "Not that I'm even remotely opposed to the idea of sex with you, I just can't imagine that one night could ever be enough."

"I might be able to be persuaded."

"Oh?" Potter asked, smiling wide enough that his dimples appeared. "How might I be able to persuade you?"

He smirked, "I'm not entirely sure yet but you're resourceful, you'll figure it out."

"Where would you like to go for dinner?" Potter asked.

"You flat," he replied. "I'm still in my stage make-up and it makes for some funny looks."

"Your make up is gorgeous," Potter protested, "But I'd be very glad for you to come back to my flat."

"Lead on, then," Draco replied, feeling a spark of anticipation.

This was just the first of many nights that Draco came to Harry's flat after the show. He came to his flat so often, in fact, that it eventually became their flat. And Harry had been right all along, one night (or one lifetime, for that matter) could never be enough.

---------------

You can read Day 107: Charge as a sequel to this ficlet. :)

Day 29: Punch | Day 31: Veritaserum

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 2 | Be Careful with Clive, I Have Grown Attached to Him

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Tom and Molly are now married.  Surprise! These two talk about the logistics of Tom’s half-baked plan.  And Molly moves to London to face the firing squad, aka the paparazzi.  

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

–

After they signed the license along with the apostille, there had been dancing. That much Molly remembered. And drinking. Specifically drinking champagne. Tom danced with abandon, pulling Molly into the whirlwind of activity he created around him.

But now it was morning, and Molly woke up in a bed that wasn’t her own. She groaned as her head pounded, having forgotten that champagne and her have a love-hate relationship. Molly saw the faint outline of Tom asleep on the couch, his long body stretched out, still wearing his suit from last night. After glancing at the alarm clock, Molly fell back asleep.

Several hours, Molly woke up again and headed to the bathroom, not noticing the now opened curtains.

“Hey good lookin, Whatcha got cookin,” Tom’s voice twanged as he stepped out of the shower. His head pounded a bit, but not the worst hangover he had.

“AHHH!!!” Molly screamed as she stepped into the bathroom.

They both froze, which was more embarrassing for Tom, as at least Molly was still wearing her dress from last night.

“You’re naked.” Molly blinked, her head darting around the room until she focused on an interesting corner of the room.

Tom chuckled, grabbing a towel and wrapping it loosely around his waist. “I don’t normally shower in my clothes. You can look back now.”

She slowly turned back around. “Sorry.” She shuffled her feet. “I should have knocked.”

“It’s quite alright.” He moved towards the door. “Shower is yours and we should talk things over.”

Molly nodded. “We should.”

While Molly showered, Tom dressed in the other room. After finding a clean t-shirt for Molly to wear over her dress until she could change, he called the airlines and changed his single ticket for that morning to a later flight for two, fishing Molly’s ID out of her wallet.

“Thanks for the shirt.” she stepped out.

“It looks good on you.” Tom gestured to the sofa. “Sit. Would you like some breakfast?” Her stomach growled. They both laughed. “That would be a yes.” Tom shoved the room service menu. “Order what you like.”

She selected an egg white frittata while Tom got the pancakes. Tom put in the order and returned his attention to Molly.

“So let’s talk about how this will work.” Tom shifted in his seat.

“An excellent idea. You mentioned living together in London. When do we leave?”

“This afternoon.”

Molly coughed. “That quick?”

“I’m afraid so.” Tom’s hands fidgeted in his lap. She noticed he was still wearing the spider ring. “I have work obligations back home and in order for it to be believable you would need to live with me.”

“Naturally.” Molly slapped her thighs. “So after breakfast, I can head back to my apartment, pack up what little I have, say goodbye to my roommate, and change into appropriate clothing. And you need to get us some proper rings.” She waved her hot pink ring in the air. “Unless of course you intend for your bride to wear a ring from the top of a cupcake.”

“Only if I get to keep my ring. I’ve grown quite attached to Clive.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You named the spider?”

“Yes.” There was a knock on the door. “That will be the food. Allow me.” He disappeared and returned shortly with a rolling table, ladened with food. Tom poured a cup of coffee and offered one to Molly.

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“I can have them bring up a teapot.”

“I’m pretty sure there are some complimentary ones in the room. Now,” She cut into her food and took a bite. “how will everything else work? Living with you, your life, the paparazzi? That is the whole point of this charade.”

“You do get down to business. So yes, I would expect you to live in my home. In a separate bedroom, I can set up another room as an office for you. We would need to attend events together and generally appear as a loving couple on the outside.”

“And my debts? That is part of the deal, right?”

“Right,” Tom gazed over at her while eating his pancakes. “I would assume the payments while we are together, and after the divorce is final, I would pay off any balance. I would also take care of your daily expenses while we are married. You are welcome to work if you want, but I will give you spending money.”

“So I would be a trophy wife?” Her brown eyes glinted.

Tom waved his hands in front of him. “Not that is not what I meant… I…”

“I am kidding, Tom. If you prefer, I can not work. I don’t mind. Give me some time to figure things out.” A thought came to her. “What about…” Molly searched for the words. “… other needs? Or if you wish to engage in a romantic relationship?” Her cheeks blushed as the words fell out of her mouth.

Tom blushed as well. “I have great self-control and I think if either of us get to that point, we can discuss it. I don’t want you to feel trapped.”

“And I don’t want you to be trapped either. I guess that is as good of an answer I could expect. Anything you want to ask me?”

Tom stared at Molly. The air hung heavy. “Do you regret saying yes?”

“No. Do you regret asking?”

“No.”

Molly downed the rest of her juice. “Well then, it is all settled. I am going to take off to pack. And you have some shopping to do. My ring size is a 7.”

Tom finished up the last bite of pancakes. “Right. We need to leave here by 3 to make it to the airport.”

“I shouldn’t be more than a few hours. Do you have a key to the room I could borrow?”

Tom fished one out of his discarded jacket’s pocket. “Here I will have the front desk make me another one.”

She tapped the key against her nails. “Thanks, Tom. For the help and for being a decent guy.”

“I should be thanking you.”

“You already have.” She grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

-

Tom headed downstairs, asked the front desk for a new key to the room, and also inquired where the nearest jewelry store might be. The front clerk handed him a key and directed him to a small collection of luxury stores in the hotel. He found Tiffanys and purchased a classic platinum solitaire engagement ring and plain platinum band for Molly and a yellow gold band for himself.

Molly wasn’t back when he returned, so he set about packing up for the flight. His phone buzzed. Luke.

It appears you had a good time in Vegas. The papers say you are drowning your sorrows. Looks like the story is here to stay. Call me when you wake up from your nap at home.

Tom typed back.

I did have a good time. I have a feeling the papers will soon find another story soon. Still in Vegas, taking a later flight. Talk to you soon.

His phone rang. He clicked it off, seeing it was Luke. Rather to get all the yelling done in person. The door opened and Molly came in, dragging a suitcase behind.

“Sorry! My roommate had questions.”

“So does my publicist.”

Tom took in Molly for the first time, really. Outside of the light of a casino floor. And not in a wedding dress purchased for fifty dollars on the way to the chapel. She wore faded jeans, a pair of beat up black Converse and a boxy white tee tucked in. A large black cardigan tucked under her arm. Dark hair in a bun. Quite lovely, if Tom told the truth.

“Are you in some sort of trouble?” Her brows knitted together.

“Not yet.” Tom tucked his phone into his jean pocket. “Here.” He pulled out the little blue bag.

Molly gasped. “I thought you would go buy some costume jewelry. This is too much.”

“Nonsense. This marriage may be fake, but the jewelry will be real.” Tom opened up the boxes. “May I do the honors?”

Molly held out her hand, and Tom slipped off the plastic ring before replacing it with the wedding set. “Much better. And yours?”

Tom slapped the box into her hand. “Be careful with Clive.” Molly pursed her lips as she pulled off the spider ring and replaced it with the gold band, putting the plastic ring in the Tiffanys box. “Here you go. Clive’s new home.”

Tom tucked the box into his luggage. “Ready to go?”

Molly rocked back on her heels. “Yep.”

Tom held out his arm. “Let’s go home, Mrs. Hiddleston.”

-

The flight back was uneventful, Molly and Tom dozed off, leaning against each other for support. Molly woke up first. She stared down at her rings. This was not how she expected this weekend going. Molly thought she would scrap together enough tips to make an extra payment on her credit card. Not flying to London with a Tiffany diamond ring on her finger and a famous actor as her husband.

“Life does throw you curveballs from time to time.”

“What was that, darling?” Tom muttered, stretching in his seat.

“Just commenting on the craziness of all of this to myself.” She held out her hand again. Tom laced his fingers with hers.

“I have done the same thing myself. Now when we land, there will probably be paparazzi around. Are you up for getting this whole thing off and running?”

Molly perked up. “What do I need to do?”

-

Tom tightly gripped Molly’s hand throughout the concourse and baggage claim. They eyed the doors.

“Ready?” she asked, squeezing his hand.

“I promise to be gentle.” Tom squeezed back, smiling.

As they stepped through the doors, Tom flashed a killer smile and Molly did as well, giggling as his arm wrapped around her waist. He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. Molly melted against him, making sure her rings were visible as she cupped his cheek. She was right, Tom was an excellent kisser. After making sure any photographers had plenty of time to snap a pic, they parted.

“Think they got my good side?” Molly giggled.

“Do you have a bad side?” Tom asked.

“Just wait and see. Now take me home, darling!” She threw her arm over her eyes dramatically.

“Drama queen.” Tom pinched her side.

-

Tom’s home was cozy and clean. Definitely a bachelor’s home, as evidenced by the empty fridge except for a few bottles of beer and some questionable brown sauce.

“I can go shopping later.” Tom dragged a toe along the kitchen floor.

“I can go shopping later.” She reached up and smacked his face playfully. “What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t feed my husband?”

“Fair point. I will call the bank tomorrow and get a card in your name. Just run any big purchases past me first. And we will need to get your name changed, passport, etc. I can have someone help you.” Tom prattled on.

“Why don’t you show me the rest of the place first?”

Tom held out his arm. “This way.”

Tom’s book collection was impressive along with his collection of movies.

“I clear some space if you need it.”

“I only packed clothes. My roommate is selling the rest, including my car and wiring me the money.”

“Oh.” Tom’s face fell. “Let me show you the bedrooms.”

He showed you a small guest room. “This could be an office for you and next door is a bigger bedroom for you.” Tom hustled along the hallway to open the next door. “Here.”

It was a bigger room with a queen bed and a wardrobe. Spare and clearly used for company.

“It will do just fine. And the bathroom is across the hall which is nice. Where’s your room?”

Tom made his way to the end of the hall and opened the door to his room, decorated in tones of grey and navy. A large king sized bed taking up most of the room along with a dresser. A bathroom en suite and a small closet completed the space.

“Very nice. Do you mind if I steal the color palette to decorate my room?”

“Please do. I never got around to decorate it. My sisters and mother are the only ones who stay in there.”

Molly paled a bit. She hadn’t thought about Tom’s family. “I supposed I will meet them soon.”

“I supposed so. It would be odd for my wife not to meet them. I hadn’t thought about it.”

Molly rocked back and forth. “Now why don’t I go shopping and you unpack and relax?”

“I would feel better if I came with you. You are in a different country, a strange city. And what if you have problems with the card?”

“Then let’s go and you can point out some of your favorite foods.”

“It’s a deal.”

-

“When I said pick out your favorite foods, I didn’t expect it to be only sweets. Did I marry a seven-year-old?”

“I’m 35, thank you. and I enjoy those sweets.”

“You eat like a college frat boy.”

“Guilty.”

“That is definitely changing now that I am around. You can’t continue to eat like that. There are things called vegetables.”

Tom snapped his fingers. “I’ve heard of those.”

“Get out of here!” Molly swatted at him. “I am certain you have things to attend to, and I need to familiarize myself with the kitchen.”

“Are you kicking me out of my kitchen?”

“Our kitchen. And yes.” Molly smirked.

“I yield! I yield. I’ll be in my study if you need me.” Tom walked out of the kitchen and towards his study.

He spied his phone sitting on the desk, still off from the flight. By now, any pictures should have been posted somewhere. Tom collapsed into his desk chair and clicked the phone on. While he waited for it to start up, he could overhear Molly puttering about in the kitchen, muttering to herself as she put away the groceries.

Buzz. Ten messages and eleven missed calls. He didn’t bother to listen to them and instead dialed Luke.

“Luke, I’m back in town. Thought I wou—” Tom started in as soon as Luke picked up.

“I WASN’T FUCKING SERIOUS WHEN I SAID TO GET MARRIED??! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND?!”

Tom pulled the phone away from his ear. “No, I haven’t. But I am married. To a wonderful girl. Her name is Molly. Molly Bishop. You should meet her, Luke.”

“YOU ARE FUCKING RIGHT I’LL MEET HER. AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! SHE CAN HELP IDENTIFY YOUR BODY, THOMAS!” Luke continued to scream on the phone.

“Can you dial back the volume, Luke? I would like to preserve my hearing. Is there something wrong with marrying the woman I love?”

Luke cleared his throat. Tom understood Luke was doing his best to collect himself. “Apologies. There is nothing wrong with marrying the woman you love, Tom. Nothing at all. Except I don’t think you love this woman, since until a few weeks ago you were in love with—”

“Don’t say her name, it will ruin my marital bliss. I’m a hopeless romantic, Luke.”

“Hopeless, yes. Romantic, the jury is still out. And your fans don’t count, they are blinded by you. But I see the truth.”

“Which is?”

“You are not as smart as you think you are.”

“Did any of the articles mention her?” Tom inquired, spinning his wedding band on his finger.

“No.”

“Then I am exactly as smart as I think I am.”

There was a clatter from the kitchen.

“Tom!” Molly called out. “I need your help.”

“Got to go, Luke. My wife needs my help.” Tom emphasized the word “wife.”

“This isn’t over, Tom.”

“It never is. Bye.”

More clattering and another cry. “Tom!”

Tom rushed into the kitchen to find Molly perched on top of the kitchen counter, reaching high into a cabinet.

“Why is everything so high in here?”

Tom chuckled and reached around her, pressing his torso against her back. Molly jumped for a moment at the touch.

“I’m not used to sharing my space. I’m six two, I put things where I can reach them. What are you grabbing?”

“The roasting pan.”

Tom pulled it down and placed it on the counter. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it.

“Thank you. Well, I am five six, so unless you want me climbing counters for the next year, we need to rearrange some things.”

“But you’re so cute climbing around like a little monkey.”

Molly frowned. “Is that supposed to be a compliment? If so, then try again.”

Tom opened his mouth and closed it. “I’ll pull things down after dinner.”

“Thank you.” She rubbed his arm. “Now to try my hand at a roast dinner. Did you get stuff done?”

His phone buzzed again.

“I called my publicist. The pictures posted.” Tom pulled out his phone to shut it off.

“Oh good. So I take it, I had the desired effect.” Molly crunched on a carrot and offered one to Tom, who wrinkled his nose.

The two of you. My office 8 a.m. tomorrow. No excuses. I want to meet the blushing bride.

Tom frowned at the screen.

“It would appear so. I suggest you go to bed early because you are meeting Luke, my publicist tomorrow.”

Molly’s mouth fell open. “Should I be worried?”

Tom smiled at her. “No, I should be.”

[bakugou-tm]

Master Knows Best (18+)

Bakugou x Maid Cafe Reader

plot: You’ve gone almost a full year working at a maid cafe with none of your friends finding out, which is exactly how you liked it; but thanks to a certain friend your beloved hot headed boyfriend found out your secret and planned on teasing you the whole time. In a stubborn attempt to get back at him, you realized exactly what would happen if you disobeyed your master

warnings: suggestive NSFW, swearing, a shit ton of teasing

wc: 5200+

mood song: worst behavior

a/n: I was supposed to post this on valentine’s day but it’s better late than never right? I perhaps may make a part two depending on how this does but I’m also a s s at NSFW so we’ll see. For now just enjoy (especially my fellow brats out there)

You liked things to be simple. You were a simple girl, with a simple life.

Sure you had your secrets, but thanks to your overall simplicity, nobody even bothered to uncover them.

That’s just the way you liked it too. Each different part of your life was separated as they should, for if they intertwined your life would becoming a living nightmare.

You never dreamed that living nightmare would become a reality. Who knew all it would take to crumble the reputation you built up for so long...

was a simple text.

Sweat trickled down the ash blond’s toned arms, his ragged breath becoming more steady as he slumped down against the wall while his friend took a few rounds at the punching bag.

The sound of his phone buzzing beside him didn’t drag him out of his exhausted mindset quite yet, but when his crimson eyes glanced across the words on the screen he felt everything come to a halt.

electric dunce: remember that day time job (l/n) said she had during the weekends? i think i found it bro..

electric dunce: 1 attachment

Bakugou’s red haired training buddy noticed the change in spirit with his blond friend, noticing how his heavy breathing suddenly stopped.

Wiping his gloved hand across his forehead, Kirishima glanced down to his friend only to see Bakugou’s eyebrows knit in a deep focus.

“You uh... You okay bro?” Kirishima questioned with a raised brow, trying to control his own ragged breaths after he attacked the swaying back before him.

Before he could question his friend once more, Bakugou let out a breathy chuckle, one filled with mischief and even excitement if Kirishima listened well enough.

“Training is cut short today shitty hair.”

-

“Come onnnn (L/n), how could you tell us you have a job then not tell us what it is?” The pink haired girl whined as she slid her upper half onto your lap and sighed dramatically.

Giggling slightly your eyes flicked to Kaminari across from you as his lips doubled over into a pout, “The whole point of having a job is so your friends can come crash it!”

“And to make some money dumbo.” You sneered, flicking his forehead gently while glancing down to Mina’s attempt at puppy dog eyes, “Besides, I didn’t want to tell you guys. You forced me to tell you where I went after school or you said you would doxx me.”

Your friends let out a sigh of defeat as Kirishima glanced to your boyfriend beside you, “C’mon Baku-bro not even you know where she works?”

Smirking slightly you placed a gentle palm on your boyfriends cheek and winked to him tauntingly,

“Not even Katsuki~”

Bakugou simply clicked his tongue and smacked your hand away, “I don’t know because I don’t fucking care.”

Oh but he did care. It ate away at him everyday that you refused to reveal where you worked. You claimed it would be “embarrassing” for him to see you working and wearing a uniform but he failed to understand why it would be. He brutally antagonized you all the time and you never bat an eye, why would he care if he saw you wearing a ‘Mini-Mart’ uniform?

You simply hummed at your boyfriend’s denial and leaned against his side.

“Say whatever you need to make you feel better love,” You purred, grinning at his scowl before you looked to your group of friends,

“Because you will never find out where I work, ever.”

-

Bakugou felt like he was in a state of euphoria as he stood before the quaint wooden doors, decorated with all sorts of pastel ribbons and paint.

It was almost as if he was entering the doors of heaven, the ultimate satisfaction of knowing he was about to beat you and your stupid threat.

And better yet, of all the places to find out you worked, it was here?

Oh he was going to enjoy this, even beyond getting revenge.

“Never find out my ass.” Bakugou sneered with a smirk, letting the soft breeze flow through his spiky locks as he tugged open the door into the unknown.

Meanwhile you were attempting to gracefully, yet quickly, get your uniform back on since your break ended in about thirty seconds. You hated how good you had gotten at putting on this stupid uniform, soon enough it would be second nature to you.

Working at a Maid Cafe wasn���t exactly where you planned to end up. When you stumbled onto the small podium in kindergarten to announce your future career, you surely didn’t say “I want to be a server at a Maid Cafe!”

And yet here you were pulling up the thigh high socks to your frilly, bow covered maid dress.

Admittedly when you were searching for jobs, you were surprised to find no luck. Any job that paid well required university years, and any left over job wouldn’t pay enough for your time to walk there.

It wasn’t until your aunt came to you in your troubles and recommended the job of your nightmares.

“My sweetheart why don’t you just work at my niece’s Maid Cafe? You’ll get to work with very sweet young girls about your age, and they pay very well since they have a very diverse clientele!”

Immediately you threw away the idea before you could even process it, the thought of having to serve gross old men and pretend to be excited while doing it didn’t sound appealing, let alone possible.

With that said, that didn’t mean your aunt was going to give up just yet. Without telling you she scheduled an interview for you, telling you if you didn’t show up it would make your family look bad.

Feeling the inevitable guilt throughout the day, you submitted into your aunt’s wishes and at least showed up to the interview.

Who knew? Maybe they would just let you be a janitor or something.

Sure enough they wanted you as a maid, but before you could even deny they offered double what any job had offered you, even the high paying ones.

“We know the job isn’t ideal, which is why we pay so much. A young girl like you would be just perfect here!”

Push came to shove, and somehow you ended up working at the cafe for a year and a half now.

You couldn’t lie, dressing up all cute and getting to hang out with a bunch of sweet girls was pretty fun. It beats mopping an empty grocery store with creepy co-workers.

With that said, the dread of having to deal with pervy customers and the existential fear of one of your friends walking through the door almost outweighed the pros of the job.

Luckily you had been able to escape doom for this long, so what are the odds that would change anytime soon?

-

The sound of the bell charming brought you back to your senses, quickly tying the silk bow behind your back you stumbled out into the break room to see your boss awaiting.

“Phew I thought you almost ditched us (L/n).” Your boss said with a wink.

Rolling your eyes you began walking backwards towards the swinging doors that led to the dining room.

“Have I ever failed you Miss Manager?” You purred with a grin.

Satisfied with her laugh you danced through the double doors, putting on your cute act once again. Only two hours left and you could go home and pig out on what was left in your pantry.

If that’s truly all it took, you didn’t mind turning on your “anime girl” side for a few hours.

Smiling at all the guests you made sure to check on everyone’s table before making your way towards the greeting podium. The doorbell went off so that meant some sort of customer was waiting to be sat.

Giving one last wink to a customer you whipped your head towards the front doors and gave a small bow before looking up.

“Welcome back to Maid Cafe master, would you like me to show you to your se..AHHHH!”

The moment your eyes met the sturdy figure before you, all senses jumped out the window as you screeched and jumped backwards defensively.

How.. How could this happen? This couldn’t be happening. All your intricate planning and anxious working to make sure no one you knew would ever catch you on the job.

And out of all the people in the world... it had to be Katsuki Bakugou.

Your ever so taunting boyfriend.

Sure enough Bakugou had a shit eating grin on his face, his eyes glowing with excitement for probably more reasons than you could count.

“Well well well, don’t you look familiar.”

At this point words weren’t even an option in your mind, you couldn’t tell if the cold spike of fear shooting up your spine was worse or the overwhelming heat that flared along your face.

Your little outburst didn’t go unnoticed by the guests and maids, all eyes moved to the two of you as you stumbled over your own words.

“Y..You- I.. but I.. and you! I can’t...”

“(L/n) is something the matter?”

The sound of your boss’ sweet voice from behind you caused you to shriek again as you now jumped to face her.

Feeling your face grow even warmer you avoided eye-contact with her, trying to use what was left of your slowly deflating brain to come up with an excuse to fix this entire mess.

“Yeah princess, is something the matter?”

Between the chilling tone and the pet name you physically shuddered, your head slowly peaking back to the problem at hand.

Bakugou couldn’t help but notice your reaction, sneering cockily as he looked down on you with pride.

“Zip it Bakugou-” 

“Ah ah..” Bakugou started before you could even finish your threat, “I believe you are supposed to refer to me as master.”

If your brain wasn’t broken before, it sure was now. Your internal mix of equally enjoying this and hating this had officially clashed and broken any sense at this point. All you could feel beyond anger at this point was complete and utter embarrassment.

“(L/n) you’re not having any trouble greeting our guest, are you?” Your boss questioned sternly.

You’ve honestly never heard her get so serious with you, given this was far from her angry side, but you hated disappointing your superiors.

Glancing around you still noticed some eyes on you along with your suspicious boss’. At this point there was no escaping the situation, and like hell were you going to give this bastard the satisfaction of your embarrassment.

“N..No ma’am, no trouble at all!” You said back in your sweet work voice, offering the best smile you could muster before twitching back to your smug boyfriend.

“Let me uh... let me show you to your table...” You stuttered out, grabbing a single menu before looking up at your expectant boyfriend’s expression. You knew exactly what the little shit was waiting for, and if you didn’t say it your boss would surely drag you to the back.

“Master.”

Bakugou sighed in dramatic satisfaction, clasping his hands together sarcastically and bending down to your level, “Fucking splendid.”

Gritting your teeth you glared into his crimson orbs before spinning on your heel, plastering the cute smile on your face so your boss could get off your back.

Once she seemed to notice you returned to your old state, she let out a gentle sigh and walked away to serve her tables.

At the very least you felt a bit less tense knowing she wasn’t following you like a hawk, but she was far from the problem at hand.

Quickly b-lining towards a table in the corner, you slammed the menu down and pulled out the chair, offering the most sarcastically pleasant smile you could.

Bakugou gladly took his seat, making sure to drag his hand along the small of your back on the way down. He throughly enjoyed each time you shivered from his touch, or even words.

First you decided to take his order, making sure all eyes were officially off the two of you. Once you decided the coast was clear, you quickly grabbed the collar of his tank top, as you bent down to be eye level with him.

“How did you find out about my job Katsuki.”

Bakugou grunted in surprise, catching himself quickly before he smirked back to your fuming expression. Oh how adorable you were when you were mad.

Your thick eyebrows would knit together in a deep focus and your plush lips would pinch into a perfect pout that drove him crazy.

As the blond smugly glanced over your features, his eyes flicked up only to notice other eyes were facing the two of you once again, only this time they only seemed to be on you. On your backside.

The way you were bending down seemed to perfectly expose your backside to the world, and your dumbass was too oblivious with him to even realize it.

Clicking his tongue, Bakugou placed a firm palm on the edge of your spine before shoving you down to your knees so the back of your dress would cover your backside once again.

The action caused a small yelp to escape your lips, you assumed he had done it to embarrass you which made you that much more mad.

“Answer. My. Question.”

Once the ash blond was satisfied with your state and he glared at any that dared to still look at you, he glanced back down to your fiery orbs with an unimpressed look.

Rolling his eyes he slapped your hand away causing you to huff before he shoved the photo Kaminari sent to him.

Glancing over the photo you eyes widened to see a photo of you through the window of the Maid Cafe assisting a customer.

Your cheeks began to glow red again as you worriedly looked up to Bakugou, “You guys actually doxxed me?!”

Bakugou raised a brow and snatched his phone back with a sigh.

“I didn’t, I can’t speak for that stupid dunce but I’ll deal with his reasoning later,” He explained before his dreadful smirk returned as he cupped the edge of your chin, “Back to the elephant in the room, how come you hid such a delicious fucking secret from your master.” 

As much as you would’ve loved this behind closed doors, to be openly embarrassed in public made your head feel like it was going to explode.

“S..Stop acting all smug you idiot!” You snapped, smacking his hand from your chin and standing up straight, “I hid this from you so you wouldn’t act like an egotistical dick.”

At this Bakugou barked out a laugh, the booming sound causing you to jump a bit as he slouched back in his chair, folding his arms with that smug grin.

“I think we’ve already come to the conclusion that my fucking ego is backed up, or have you forgotten doll?”

His piercing red eyes narrowed to your own, the sight making you blush as you jerked your head to the side and huffed.

“Can you order already idiot? I’ve got plenty of other orders to take.”

Bakugou simply smirked and picked up the menu, glancing down the options before shoving it in your arms.

“I’ll get two of the shitty rice bears,” He explained, grinning when he saw you look up with a raised brow, “I’ve got a hungry maid coming home soon waiting to please her master.”

Your confused expression turned into a flushed angry one as you snatched the menu from him and turned on your heel. You didn’t even remember what he asked for but at this point you didn’t care. You just wanted to hide from the customers so you could collect what dignity you had left.

The moment you brushed by the double doors you let out a sigh of relief as you rested your head against the back wall. Maybe if you closed your eyes and pinched yourself hard enough you would wake up from this horrible nightmare?

You could only imagine the things Bakugou was thinking. Does he think you’re some ditzy pushover maid girl now? Is he texting your friends telling them that you work here? Honestly Kaminari has probably already done that.

It was so nice having the upper hand on him for once, but now that he took every last bit of dignity and laughed in your face, you were doomed.

“Rough shift huh?”

Raising your brows you peaked an eye open to see one of your coworkers with a concerned expression. Standing up straight you fixed a piece of your hair and nodded.

“Yeah I guess you could say that..”

“How come you were acting so weird with that customer (L/n)-chan?” Your manager called from behind, carrying a bunch of plates as she walked beside your coworker, “Is it because he’s crazy hot?”

Folding your arms you let out a huff as you pouted your lips out,

“Try boyfriend.”

Both girls gasped in shock, your boss nearly dropping the plates in her hand as they looked two you in disbelief.

“Wow sorry for calling him hot, I never knew you had a boyfriend (L/n)! And a hunk at that~”

Letting out a slight chuckle, both your eyes fell on your coworker when she spoke up.

“You know this same thing happened to me with my boyfriend,” She spoke while tapping her finger against her cheek in thought, “I didn’t want him finding out about my job because I knew he would make fun of me, then one day he showed up and sure enough started making fun of me.”

Frowning you let out a sigh as you rubbed the side of your face exasperatedly, “My dumb boyfriend is doing that too! What did you end up doing with yours?”

Your coworker grinned as she shrugged.

“I simply fought fire with fire. Since he was making fun of me, I made him eat his words and watch me serve the other customers. He ended up getting so jealous he left!”

The advice she had given you finally brought warmth back to your numb body, you felt a grin rise to your face as you quickly wrapped your arms around your coworker.

“You are a lifesaver woman! I owe you so much for that advice.”

Your coworker simply laughed and hugged you back, happy to see you back in your normal cheerful state.

“Yeah have some fun but don’t ruin the experience for our other guests!” Your boss called out before walking out the door with the plates.

“I should probably get out there too, let me know if you need any help (L/n)-chan.” Your coworker said with a mischievous grin before dancing out the double doors.

Your mind was rushing with ideas, how could you of not thought of this before? Your explosive boyfriend could get jealous from a rock on the street, this would be the perfect pay back for you!

If he was going to come into your workplace and wreak havoc, you would do the same for his inflated ego.

Fixing up your dress you grabbed the two plates and narrowed your eyes towards the dining room.

“Bring it on Bakugou Katsuki.”

-

Oh did Bakugou feel pleased with himself.

Normally he hated skipping out on a workout, but this was worth it.

He couldn’t let the image of your adorable flushed expression and tense body escape his mind. Let alone that maid costume on you was divine on your plush skin.

The fact that you refused to wear a maid costume in the bedroom made it that much better, no wonder you were trying to hide this job from him.

The way the black silk hugged every curve, just tight enough to where your skin was overflowing from the material. And those thighs squeezing out of those adorable thigh highs drove him wild.

If he hadn’t made the best discovery of his life today, he would almost be mad you were strutting around in such a costume for anyone other than himself.

Deciding to wait another day to deal with that, Bakugou simply enjoyed the scenery and awaited for his girlfriend.

Just like clockwork he saw your form dance out of the backroom a bit too peppy. The thought of you “collecting” yourself in the back only made him sneer with a sadistic grin, he would simply break you all over again when you served him the food.

Just as you sauntered over to his table, the ash blond looked you up and down with a smirk, opening his mouth to say something truly condescending until your body turn away from him and towards another table.

“Here’s your panda shaped muffin and honeydew boba masters!” You spoke to the two customers at the table in front of him, “Is there anything else I can get for you my handsome masters?”

Bakugou felt his heart drop at the sound of you calling another living organism your master. Were you doing this on purpose? Is this usually how you talked to the shitty customers here?

His answer was confirmed when a small squeak escaped your lips and you bent down towards the table, your chest surely giving the two guests a show given their cherry lit cheeks as your thumb grazed across one of the customer’s cheeks.

“Silly master, you have some icing on your cheek.” You said with the most divine giggle he had ever heard. Gritting his teeth his entire world froze when you stuck the finger in your mouth and licked the white cream off clean, “No worries, I got it for you~”

The man before you looked like he was going to bust on the spot, his friend watching with his jaw dropped and eyes filled with jealousy.

Smiling sweetly you gave them one last bow, “Let me know if you need anything else masters!”

Just before you danced away from their table you glanced to Bakugou, giving him a small smirk as you looked him up and down with unimpressed eyes before sauntering away, leaving your explosive boyfriend on the verge of a breakdown.

You truly had a death wish. It was the only explanation for your actions. For almost a full hour you kept that act up, leaving the many guests within the cafe speechless and ogling over you. You knew exactly how jealous Bakugou could get, and you knew he hated admitting it.

Of course Bakugou also knew what a little tease you were. He didn’t miss the delight in your glistening eyes each time you taunted him, waiting for the repercussions of his wrath. But this...

This crossed the line of his sanity.

The ash blond tried to wait til your shift was over, he really did. As furious as he was with you, he wasn’t irresponsible enough to make you lose your job. But the moment your finger tips danced along the shoulder of a guest, any bit of restraint the male had left in his body had snapped like a twig.

The sound of him storming up from his table caused the immediate guests around him to look up, his silverware clanking against the pink trimmed plate as he made a direct line towards you.

Unfortunately for you, the scene your boyfriend caused went over your head as you continued to jot down the order from the customers before you. Focusing on your blossom shaped ordering pad you didn’t notice the horrified expressions on the customers before you as the saw an angry Bakugou storming up behind you.

“I’ll get those orders right up for you masters~” You exclaimed with a cute wink as you began to walk off until a firm hand wrapped around your wrist in a vice grip.

Bakugou could have loosened his bit a grip he realized when you let out a small yelp but he had already committed and like hell was he going to let you flirt with another damn customer right before his very eyes.

Your sweet words, gentle touches, suggestive actions... they weren’t meant for him and him only.

Immiedetly you recognized your boyfriend’s sharp hold and tried to tug your hand away so not to make a scene, but the ash blond simple spun your wrist around and pinned it to your back, giving him full control of wherever you walk.

With a squeak he shoved you forward, causing you to stumble over your own feet as he quickly pushed you towards the backroom.

You briefly met gaze with your boss as he shoved you by, your eyes pleading for help as they were filled with regret. Your boss opened her mouth, not sure what to even do.

“E..Excuse me sir? You can’t touch the-”

Before she could even finish her sentence Bakugou flashed a sharp glare to the woman, his crimson orbs thin from lack of patience and absolute fury.

Your boss was smart enough to know your boyfriend was truly about to go feral, for her life and your own she decided it was best to turn away and pretend she saw nothing.

You let out a small pout when you saw her attempt to serve the shocked guests, leaving you to be shoved into the backroom by a surely pent up Bakugou.

Once you reached the back you saw your coworker, the one that had given you such brilliant advice before, shoving a pastry in her mouth as she was on her break. Her eyes first fell on the dark lidded ones of your boyfriend before falling on your pleading fearful eyes.

Her mouth opened, unsure of what to say before closing.

“I’m uh.. gonna take my break outside.” She muttered softly, politely pushing the chair in and offering the best smile she could before she quickly shuffled out the back doors.

Once the room was clear Bakugou let go of your wrist, giving you a chance to stretch your arm back in it’s proper position before the sound of the back door slamming to a close caused you to shriek in surprise.

Bakugou couldn’t help but smirk as you jumped, as angry as he was he loved seeing you so on edge thanks to him. Returning to a serious expression he watched as you turned around, attempting to put on a serious face of your own.

“Bakugou you know I still have thirty minutes left of my shift-”

Trying to speak was hard enough as is with the thick tension in the room, but when the ash blond slammed his hands on either side of you against the wooden break table you let out a shriek and quickly sat back against the ledge attempting to gain some more space between you two.

The action made him chuckle dryly as he looked you up and down.

“You’re still going to act like a fucking brat huh? After the show you just put on?” Bakugou spoke lowly, his eyes drinking in the sight of your costume only swirling more pent up feelings within him, “Someone’s feeling spunky today?”

You bit at the corner of your lip, swallowing what left of saliva was in your dry mouth as you tried terribly to avoid eye contact.

“Hiding such a naughty job from me, and then when I catch you red handed this is the treatment I get?” Bakugou hisses with clenched fists, “You should’ve been at my fucking heel all day for keeping such a delicious lie from me and yet you taunt me like you’re the one in charge?”

His harsh words made heat rise to your cheeks as you looked down at your frilly dress, trying to find anything to look at besides his face. Surely you knew that wasn’t going to pass with him.

“Look at me when I fucking speak to you brat.” Bakugou growled, his eyes narrowing when he saw your lips pinch together stubbornly.

Letting out an annoyed sigh he grabbed your wrist roughly before shoving you back against the thin wall and grabbing your jaw harshly shoving it against the wall with a hard knock, forcing your eyes to meet.

The sight of your cheeks being squished together by his large palms and your wide glassy eyes forced to look into his own, he couldn’t hide his smug smirk as he felt you lightly tremor beneath him.

“Much better doll.” Bakugou cooed, voice laced with sarcasm as you both knew the next chain of events were about to get quite violent.

“Now, I was planning on patiently waiting for you to get off so we could take this conversation in private...” Bakugou spoke, eyes narrowing down to yours as he let out a sinister laugh, “Hell I even bought you a treat, I’m such a generous fucking boyfriend aren’t I?”

Your breathing was ragged as you stared up into his crimson eyes, your brain was so fogged by the situation that you hadn’t even realized what he asked until his grip on your jaw tightened.

“I asked you a fucking question.”

Blinking back to reality you nodded deserpatly, not daring to look away from his gaze as you let out a slight whimper that shot directly to his pants.

“Good.” Bakugou said with a dark smile before continuing on, “But now I cannot go along with that generous plan because you can’t go two seconds without acting like a fucking slut.”

The filthy words spewing from his lips caused your face to grow warm, the entire situation already had your silk underwear drenched, but his words alone caused you to brush your plump thighs together desperately.

Your actions didn’t go unnoticed by the ash blond as he roughly shoved a knee between your legs causing a whine to escape your lips when he refused to put any friction on your aching core.

“Even now you can’t help but act like a brainless bitch in heat.” Bakugou sneered with a grin, his hand on your jaw lowering to now grip on your neck gently so not to cut off any air.

“Because you’ve disobeyed me multiple times today, I’m going to have to set you straight right here in public so you know who truly has the power here.”

Your mouth opened to rebuttal as your eyes widened at his idea, but his hand only gripped tighter around your throat causing the words shove back down your throat.

“And then,” Bakugou hissed, “If you perform like a good little maid, I may give you what you want when we get home. Maybe.”

You let out a shaky breath as he narrowed his eyes down to you, trying to read what you were feeling right now.

“Now you’re going to be my good little slutty maid and serve me until I’m satisfied, you fucking got that?”

As Bakugou’s grip on your neck loosened, your posture relaxed a bit as you nodded to his question, only for the grip to return as he growled down to you.

“Try again.”

Biting your lip your thighs attempted to squeeze against his knee for any sort of friction at all as any conscious thought was clouded with ashamed lust for the man before you.

“Y..Yes master.”

[silkentragedies]

A boyfriend sounds good, but…

Non idol! Jung Wooyoung x fem! Reader

3.1k words, Highly suggestive at best, making out, FLUFF, E2L vibes, College AU

Warnings: Mentions of STDs, making out. ( This is so self-indulgent it’s horrible lmao- also, not explicit at all.)

This piece of fiction does not reflect the actions of the real-life Jung Wooyoung. Not meant for minors. 

College was supposed to be late night parties and hurried submissions, overdosing on caffeine and woefully unedited essay compilations. College was supposed to be hellish hangovers and greasy weekend brunches in bed, helter-skelter running to part-time jobs and missing classes with snoozed alarms.

You got all of that, of course, but you also got one thing you didn’t ask for, in fact, wished beyond wishes that it wouldn’t happen but of course, your guardian angel was up to some mischief: You got yourself an archenemy.

Jung fucking Wooyoung.

It all started off small, of course; bumping into each other rather violently in the hallways on orientation day ended with your coffee on the floor. Minor detail- his phone had also dropped on the floor.

You apologized profusely- he seemed like an upperclassman with his leather jacket, slim but solid build, a head of double-toned hair and oh were those tattoos peeking out of his collar- no point in causing a ruckus on the first day. You even offered to pay for the damage. 

And then he opened his mouth. 

“Can’t you watch where you’re going?”

The sheer annoyance in his tone rubbed you the wrong way- obviously you had to respond, you weren’t the only one at fault- 

“Sorry, but you weren’t watching where you were going either. So don’t tout the blame to me-”

“Oh, whatever, just keep your money. I can get it fixed myself.”

The audacity of this bi-

“Good for you then, because my offer is off the table now, pretty boy.” 

A smirk curled up his lip- “You think I’m pretty?”

“About as pretty as a skunk, especially with that hair.”

You had to tamp down the urge to childishly stick your tongue out at his bemused, mildly annoyed expression before walking past him.

 Lamenting the loss of your morning coffee, you hurried your way to the orientation venue. At Least he was an upperclassman. Thankfully you wouldn’t have to deal with him-

“Did you see that hot guy in the leather jacket and that black-blonde hair ?”

Fuck’s sake. 

“His name’s Jung Wooyoung and apparently all the upperclassmen already have an eye on him. He’s in our major so we really lucked out, hot guys-wise.”

Fuck’s sake.

Surely you could just avoid him and pretend he didn’t exist?

But no.

Jung fucking Wooyoung turned out to be the apple of the campus’ eye in a matter of 2 weeks. He was as new to the university as the rest of you and yet, managed to look more put together, cooler than the rest of you still struggling to figure out class numbers and professor names.

He was the upperclassmen darling- people drooled over him, wanted to befriend him, and invite him to all the big parties…

and fuck- even the teachers were already wrapped around his infuriating pinky finger. They allowed him to waltz into class 25 minutes late, smile his infuriating innocent smile and chill in the back row, scot fucking free.

A month in, he’d gotten into the Dance Club too-  cementing his legendary status in the university. It was unheard of, after all, for a freshman to get into the unattainable Dance Club in his first attempt. 

You happened to visit one of the club’s performances one weekend and even you couldn’t ignore the sheer talent he radiated. It only infuriated you more to watch Wooyoung hog the stage’s spotlight with almost no effort- all perfect lines, sharp and clean movements…

It’s fine, you could still ignore his existence

But no.

Another thing about Jung Wooyoung- he found sick pleasure in annoying the living daylights out of you. 

It was so juvenile, so high-school, so immature of him- sticking gum in your hair, snapping your bra strap, kicking the back of your chair, striking up nonsense debates with you in class…

And then he had the nerve to laugh in your face when you glared at him with hellfire in your eyes because you were too polite to lash out in front of a professor.

Of course, you exhibited no such restraint outside the classroom.

“You vs Woo” was a commonplace explanation for the commotions that blazed up in the campus courtyard every other day. You were like wolves, the way you snarled at each other, not hesitating to slash at each other with as many cutting words as you could find. 

This went on for months, an entire semester marred by an enmity that seemed to stem from nothing- until one day, mister Jung Wooyoung really fucked up.

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? FACE ME, YOU COWARDLY WORM!” Your angry yelling and thudding on the door had Wooyoung’s roommates Yeosang and… Choi San? running to open the door to their shared dorm room. 

You barged into Wooyoung’s room, unplugging the game he was playing. “What the fuck-”

“You dirty fucking bastard. You shameless shitstain of a fucking human being-” 

Slap. Wooyoung reeled back. In all this time, you’d never actually hit out at him physically. It had always been words. Maybe this time he crossed a line?

“You told Changbin I had a fucking STD. THE GALL OF YOU-” You lashed out at him with every few words, pushing Wooyoung further back against the back wall of his room. 

“How fucking dare you make assumptions about me like that. you lowlife scumbag.” You snarled in his face, now having him trapped between you and the wall.

You were smaller than him by quite a bit- it was almost amusing to see Wooyoung cowering in front of you, lowkey terrified of what you’d throw at him next. 

“Okay okay, fuck, I’m sorry!” He burst out finally, cutting you right across your angry rant. “I didn’t mean it like that!! I swear, I didn’t even know you were the one he was talking about. And I only told him to be safe from STDs, not that anybody had one.”

“What makes you think I’ll believe you, Jung,” You screeched. “You’ve always been a dick in general to me. I wouldn’t put it past you to say something like that and lie to my face about it.”

You back away, almost disgusted at being so close to him, “Seriously, dude. Get fucked.” Flipping him off before leaving, you turn around to look at him still standing where you’d backed him up to, an evil glint in your eye.

“It will be so fucking unfortunate if somebody told the campus gossip blog you had erectile dysfunction and your hookups were all fake.”

\

Safe to say, Wooyoung never made digs at your sexual activity again.

Neither did he have much sexual activity of his own for a while. Not that there was much sexual activity in your case either.

Maybe it was that exact…starvation that led Wooyoung to behave the way he did.

What was juvenile teasing became more… flirtatious?

Oh gods, what the fucking fuck is going on-

Suddenly, it wasn’t gum in your hair, it was soft whispers against your ear, breath warm against your cheek

It wasn’t kicking the back of your chair, it was leaning in front of you to fistbump Lee Felix on the other side of you until you could smell his intoxicating chocolate-honey-sweat scent.

He’d taken to taking his leather jacket off and sitting through classes (he still turned up late for) in a muscle t shirt that showed off his toned arms- 

All of his movements now seemed to be designed to tease the crawling under your skin you hadn’t been able to quench recently-

Not that you were a serial hookup kinda person, but you’d been fairly sexually active until semester exams and Wooyoung’s rumors had brought around quite a dry spell for you.

It was like every action of his sparked something wildfire hot in your head, tension stringing your senses into overdrive- were you imagining it?

Wooyoung was having some troubles with said crawling under-skin himself. 

Since when did you wear skinny jeans like that to class? Did you always have such a pretty neck, just waiting to get marked up? Did you always have that sway to your hips when you walked out of class?

The forced abstinence was doing bad things to him. 

It did rather amuse him, however, when he could see your breath catch a little from his murmurings in your ear, or squirm in your seat when he spoke to Felix before the professor arrived. It was the little things, truly. 

You still fought like a cat and dog though- there was no way the two of you would ever let on that your scope of noticing each other had gone beyond annoyance and rivalry a while ago. 

//

“Fuck no. I’m not doing this fucking project with you. It’s worth half the fucking grade and you’re a numbskull when it comes to this subject.”

“Like I want to deal with you anymore than I have to, sweetheart. You’re pretentious enough in class as it is.” 

Fate really loved playing the cliche card with you- of course you got paired up with Wooyoung for one of your semester projects. 

No, it definitely wasn’t the teacher that saw you two glaring more at each other more than the whiteboard and decided to take matters into her own hands.

Of fucking course the teacher refused to allow switching of partners or individual grading- it had to be a team effort or you’d both fail the subject. As a team. Yippee-ki fucking yay.

So you two ended up in the library at 11 p.m, two nights before your first check point review, having procrastinated the fuck out of working together until the last possible minute.

Amidst cursing at each other and cups of ramen and iced americano, the two of you found yourself stuck with each other and attempting to build the basis of an acceptable report to present. 

Surprisingly enough, Wooyoung wasn’t entirely a lost cause when it came to the subject. He actually made sizable contributions to the report. He even got you some coffee on his break, despite the jibes and taunts you threw at him about going soft- you were the type to hold a grudge.

You were both wandering down the shelves in the library, looking for more references when Wooyoung decided to open his big mouth again.

“You do realize that shitty rumor you put out didn’t really mess with my prospects, right?” Wooyoung was so full of shit. “If anything, I’d be worried about you, sweetheart.”

There it was again. Sweetheart. Another of those taunting things that just riled you up in all the wrong(right) ways. It was like he knew everything you would go weak for and then shamelessly exploited them all.

“Unlike you, Wooyoung, I don’t need people to stroke my ego…or anything else. I can get myself going just fine.”

“If you did know how to stroke anybody’s anything, sweetheart, you wouldn’t have trouble getting some.”

Ohhh, so he wants to play some games!!! Okay then-

You reached out to flick at his ponytail, ever-so slightly enamoured by how well he pulled off the double-toned look.

“Like you know anything about how to please in bed, babe.” 

It was unfair how much that nickname falling from your lips affected Wooyoung. Some…not very appropriate thoughts had already taken root in his brain and you running your mouth was not helping at all. 

“Good enough for them to beg, sweetheart.” 

A soft crow of laughter escaped you as you turned to fully face him, the both of you standing between the Greek Architecture and Geography sections.

“You sure you weren’t the one doing the begging?” 

“Oh, really now?”

You really should’ve thought through what was leaving your mouth 

Because now you were wedged between the shelves and Wooyoung’s (unfairly) toned body, his arms caging you in with that signature shit-eating grin on his face as he leaned closer to you- 

The tension was almost atrocious now, suffocating you when it had only previously nudged at you. You could feel it settle under your skin, in your veins, fingers itching to reach out and pull him closer 

But you kept your hands braced against the shelves- you would not give him the satisfaction of making the first move yourself…right? 

Fuck, you really wanted to though- 

It had be the late hour leaving you with lesser inhibitions than normal or possibly the pent up horny in your system or maybe the questionable direction your conversation was headed in

There was no other plausible reason for your arch nemesis’ lips to look that inviting

It must’ve been the way your attention flitted from his eyes to his lips that gave you away, a momentary lapse of self-control before you looked away, off to some point behind his shoulders-

And he smirk only widens

“You know, nobody really visits this corner of the library.”

“Your point?”

Both your voices were whispers now, your bodies close enough to touch but not quite, Wooyoung’s face a few inches away from yours and holding your gaze 

(He had honey flecks in those dark eyes, 7 on one side and 4 on the other, like gold leaf in coffee)

“We could easily find out who begs for who…”

He still hadn’t touched you yet, his hands placed on the shelf on either side of you- you could move out from the space if you so wished-

Despite the tension between the both of you, it seemed like… like he was waiting for you to make the first move, voice your consent, act on it 

How considerate, you thought to yourself as you let your sight wander to either side, checking for people 

Surprising you found Jung Wooyoung’s one possible redeeming quality like this, mind hazy and barely restraining yourself from kissing the living daylights out of him- 

Oh well, fuck it

A soft sound left Wooyoung as you curled your hand around the back of his neck and pulled his face to yours, lips meeting in a soft, hesitant kiss

How dare he be a good kisser too?

One hand reached up to cup your cheek and you instinctively tilted your head into the warmth of his palm as the kiss deepened

Unfair that he could take your breath away so effortlessly

There was nothing hesitant about the way Jung wooyoung kissed you back

Lips pressing more persistently against yours, teeth grazing your lower lip and pulling slightly before diving in again, hand now curled around the back of your neck

His other hand caressed your side and gripped your hips as he pressed you gently against the shelves, your arm slipping down to clutch at the front of his shirt as his body molded all too perfectly against yours

You could feel him everywhere

Everywhere 

From the way his lips had begun to land messy kisses against your jaw and neck, the hand on your hip tightening and slipping under your shirt to clutch at soft skin, hips flush against yours 

You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from Wooyoung, your head spinning at the intoxicating feeling he brought with him 

The sensation of his mouth against your neck was almost euphoric, your head lolling back against the books and leaving you to pull your lower lip between your teeth, an almost futile feeling bid to keep silent, you’re still in public

Somehow your hands wound up in his hair, pulling the double-toned strands as his head dipped lower, a quiet groan from Wooyoung your only pointer that he liked it

So this is why he was so sure of himself, your mind temporarily blanking when Wooyoung’s teeth pulled against the sensitive skin, biting and sucking gently

A choked, uneven sound escaped your mouth when he pushed you harder against the shelves, hand reaching lower to squeeze your butt-

A smirk lit up his eyes as he straightened up to look at the line of red- blue blooming across your neck, then at you, cheeks warm and still biting your lip, looking resolutely away from his gaze

“Weren’t we supposed to be working on the project?” 

This little buzzkill.

//

You didn’t work on the project that night

You spent it in Wooyoung’s bedroom, getting railed within an inch of your life.

Not without the lack of the both of you being absolutely unable to keep your hands off each other on the way there 

Between the library and his dorm, you pulled or got pulled into shady alleys and corners for ‘another taste’ 

“Never again.” You warned him when he dropped you off at your dorm, you looking windswept from the wind of course and his hoodie up because of the cold not because his neck was more purple than tan-

Lies.

Your daytime dynamic remained the same 

But now with added benefits- 

He got to corner you after class, feel you up until you were gasping his name and then leave you hanging 

You got to make brazen moves under the table in the library whenever he got too snarky for his own good

He could ask nicely, you learnt. Broken groans and choked-up sounds would escape him when you ran your nails over his skin, soft and sharp and wanting and unyielding as you kissed your way down his body

Down his neck, over his chest, the hard planes of his stomach 

He would plead for more when you sucked him off, bucking his hips closer to you everytime you slowed down or stopped

Find him at the right time, though and he could just as easily return the favour

He would tease you relentlessly, hands ghosting everywhere dangerous and then pulling away just to watch you squirm and make grabby hands at him, a frown marring your kiss- swollen lips 

Leave conspicuous marks too high up on your neck for you to cover, dark enough for a day or two that even makeup left shadows

Spending a long, long time between your legs only to get up and start dressing, claiming to be late for class

Quickies were your religion at this point 

Janitors closets locked and hand covering your mouth to muffle your moans before a dance competition, empty bedrooms in frat parties with one of you getting pushed onto the bed

It was an infernal coupon from hell : Find one archrival, get a fuck buddy free of cost!

Of course, there were side effects

“Did you just walk out of that empty classroom with Jung Wooyoung? After class hours?” “We were studying for the midterms!!”

“Uh.. Wooyoung, who was that leaving the dorm building? at 1 in the morning?” “uh yEAH WE WERE DOING THE PROJECT YEAH.”

Yeah, a boyfriend sounds nice but an archenemy you can make out with in secret sounds ravishingly pleasing-

When the boy in question is a certain young man with double toned hair with a penchant for leather jackets and out-of-line snark, you couldn’t agree more.

Yes, this is a revamp and repost from my main account xD. Like I said, this was self indulgence to the peak 😩 I'm a tad whipped for snarky boy Jung Wooyoung 😀

Do lemme know what you think ^_^. xoxo, A💕

Possibly interested parties: @aliceu​ @whiteprincessofnohr​

(drop me an ask to be added or removed! )

[gubler-me-up]

Two Left Feet

Request: heyyy could u pls do a spencer x fem!reader where it’s jj and will’s wedding. people have been convincing spencer to dance all night but he just admires reader dancing from afar (they’re both crushing on each other) eventually he dances with her to “can’t take my eyes off of you” and ends with a kiss?? kinda specific but i think i’d be super cute

A/N: Thanks for the prompt, @l0ve-0f-my-life​! I hope this is cute enough for you 🥺I tried to make it as sweet as possible without giving you any cavities LOL I wasn’t sure which version of Can’t Take My Eyes Off You you wanted, so I didn’t specify, I hope that’s okay! Hope you enjoy!

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content warning: Nothing just pure fluff

Word count: 1.5k

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JJ and Will’s wedding was probably the most beautiful wedding you had been to in a while. After all the chaos the day before brought to the team it felt as if this was the sweetest outcome to happen. It was about time JJ gave in to Will’s proposal.

JJ was extra beautiful that evening in her mother’s wedding gown as she walked down the aisle to meet Will to exchange vows. You and Garcia couldn’t contain your emotions as you watched JJ and Will exchange their vows. You had your money on Penelope shedding the first tear, but you found  little tears escaping your eyes before hers even formed. Maybe you were the bigger sap when it came to romance.

During the reception, you were able to take a few pictures of everyone looking gorgeous in their formal wear. Seeing everyone in such a celebratory mood was definitely something you wanted to capture and save forever. Some of your favourite pictures were with Spencer and Derek because their dynamics were so different when it came to poses. Derek was all for the camera while Spencer wasn’t quite sure how he should pose. Another set of pictures you loved were the ones with the JJ, Emily and Penelope. Those pictures reminded you of how lucky you were to have those three amazing women in your life.

The best part of any wedding was when everyone got a chance to bust a move on the dance floor. You loved dancing and it was even more satisfying to do with a crowd. With a dangerous amount of alcohol in everyone’s systems, no one was shying away from the dance floor. Well, almost no one.

You had been dancing with anyone who approached you. Whether it was a slow song or dance song, you didn’t hesitate to bust a move. Emily and Derek were probably the only two other people who could out dance you which made dancing with them even more fun. Seeing Hotch smiling and dancing was even a better sight to see. It made it seem as if he had a bit of happiness left in him, which made you happy.

Seeing JJ and Will dance so close to each other gave you something to admire. You wish you had someone to hold as intimately as they held each other. The thought made you realize you hadn’t seen Spencer on the dance floor at all. You looked around to see where he could be hiding. You went over to where Penelope and Derek were getting their two-step on.

“Hey, guys. Have you seen, Spence?” You asked.

Derek smirked. “You mean Dr. Won’t dance, but will admire from afar?”

You raised a questionable eyebrow. Derek spared you from any further confusion when he pointed towards a table to your right. You saw Spencer sitting there, pretending to look off into space. You kept your eye on him until he finally peaked back your way. You gave him a smile and a tiny wave. He awkwardly waved back before he looked away again.

You turned back to Derek. “Why isn’t he dancing?”

“We’ve all been asking him the same thing all night, but he says he’s content sitting and watching everyone have a good time,” he explained.

“Which is total bullshit because he’s been looking at you dance the whole night,” Penelope chimed in.

You blushed. “Really? How do you know he’s been looking at me specifically?”

“Well, that’s the real reason we’ve all been pushing him to come out and dance. He obviously wants to dance with you, but doesn’t know how to ask. He’s not as smooth as the king of persuasion over here,” Derek joked.

Penelope playfully rolled her eyes as she light hit his chest. “Oh please, the only reason you can persuade is because of that sly smile of yours. Reid is a little ball of nerves and adorable awkwardness. He just needs the right person to bring him out of his shell.”

“That would help. Who do you think could do that?” You asked.

“Y/N, you’re a whole profiler and you couldn’t figure out the right person for the job is you?” Derek joked.

“Me? But if I go over there now and ask him to dance with me, won’t he know you two told me to ask him to dance?” You asked.

“As long as his little butt gets on the dance floor with you, I don’t care if he knows we exposed him. Now go, my tiny dancer,” Penelope said.

You wanted to get a few final words in, but Derek and Penelope kept shooing you away. You sighed and made your way up to Spencer. You were thinking of the best ways to persuade him to dance with you. You knew how shy he was and how much he hated attention on him, so you would understand if he didn’t want to dance.

He had noticed you walking his way. He sat upright in his chair and smoothed his tie down. You could tell he was becoming nervous just by you approaching him. You made sure to soften your face and keep your smile gentle to show him there wasn’t anything to worry about.

“Hey, Spence, I’ve been looking all around for you. Why are you sitting? The dance floor too hot for you,” you joked.

He awkwardly smiled. “No, no, I-I, um, just wanted to sit for a while.”

“A while? Spence, ten songs have gone by already. That’s like almost an hour of you just sitting.”

“46 minutes and 27 seconds, but I’m not counting.”

You giggled. “Well, if you don’t wanna sit and “not count” anymore, we can dance.”

“Did Morgan and Garcia tell you to ask me? Don’t make them pressure you into doing anything,” he said.

You shook your head. “No. Well, they did tell me you have been watching me dance. Then again I’ve been trying to find you, so I guess we’ve both have been trying to see one another.”

You could see Spencer’s cheeks turn a rosy red when you said that. He licked his lips as he searched for the right words to respond with. As he thought of what to say you could hear Can’t Take My Eyes Off You playing. Without hesitation you grabbed Spencer’s hand and pulled him out of his seat.

“You have to dance with me for this one song. This is one of my favourite songs,” you told him as you dragged him onto the dance floor.

“Uh, okay,” he said.

You could hear the uncertainty in his voice, but you made sure to wipe that away when you pulled him close to you. A bright smile appeared across your face and he reflected it right back at you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he gently placed his hands on your waist.

“Y/N, I have a confession,” Spencer said.

You looked at him confused. “What is it?”

“I’ve been watching you dance, so I could analyze how to properly dance with you. I was nervous my dancing would embarrass you if I had asked you right away,” he said.

“Oh God, Spencer, you could never do anything to embarrass me. You’re dancing perfectly. I wouldn’t change a thing about this moment,” you said as you laid your head on his chest.

You could hear his heart racing inside his chest. Even the music couldn’t cancel out the beat of his heart fluttering at your words. It felt nice knowing your heart wasn’t the only one racing.

“You mean that?” He asked.

You lifted your head to look at him. “Of course.”

Before the moment left, you leaned up to kiss him. With no hesitation he kissed you back and pulled you in closer to him. The private moment between you two couldn’t last forever since the whistling and “awes” had already started. You two parted lips and looked around to see a few delighted eyes looking your way.

“Ugh, it’s about time they made some kind of move on each other,” you heard Penelope say.

You and Spencer turned your attention to the right to see Penelope, JJ and Derek staring at you guys with huge smiles. You and Spencer blushed from the attention they were giving you. You knew this faraway crush you had on each other was noticeable, but you didn’t know it was supported that much.

“I think there might be a possibility of another wedding soon,” JJ teased.

You giggled. “We’re gonna take things slow. Isn’t that right, Spence?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“Take it slow in the streets, but take it fast in the sh-”

You cut off Derek by shooing them all away before the conversation went too in-depth. All three of them laughed and obliged as they went back to dancing. You and Spencer laughed to yourselves as you both went back to dancing.

You two went on to dance to a few more songs before the night ended. You didn’t need a camera to remember the feeling of Spencer holding you tight and dancing with you. You were glad there was something real between you two and that it was finally being put into action. You thought you should have tried harder to catch the bouquet earlier on in the night. Even though you didn’t it was definitely your night to dance with the man of your dreams.

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MASTERLIST