#it's my first attempt at capturing her likeness rip and you can really see that i'm so sorry i can't do you full justice beloved </3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thewingedwolf · 2 years ago

Text

i am rewatching shadow & bone bc, once again, i am a parody of myself, and i really am so fond of Mal in the show, i am deeply nervous about how he’ll be written in s2 lol. not as nervous about almost everyone else - i say ALMOST bc i was not impressed with the way Jesper & Nina weren’t shown to be bisexual, like, at all, & while i think it was just clumsy writing & not malice (the same as the clumsy way they wrote Alina’s race), that doesn’t mean it’ll get better lol. also pls understand i spend half my time shitting on the darklng, ben barnes does an excellent job reminding me why i hate that bitch okayyyy

Mal already knows that Alina’s tent with the other cartographers was moved, and knows where it moved. We first see him fighting but seems like he got there, immediately attempted to find Alina, figured out she had been moved and was wandering around, then said fuck it she’ll find me or i’ll find out she got thrown in lock up again, and decided to go beat someone up so he could show off his kruge in front of her lmao

Alina is interested in the grisha. she’s smiling and curious, clearly thinks Zoya looks cool af (she’s right, Zoya is cool af). Mal spends the entire time frowning at them lol. Could be bc a grisha just crashed his party, could be mal’s general dislike of grisha and the upper class. it’s very funny either way that he just Refuses to smile until Alina distracts him

Alina experiencing A Racism but still thinking quick enough so her team can eat makes me emo but also Mal immediately being like “time to commit some crimes” every single time someone is racist to Alina is so great, get u a real man like Mal

Racism is done very messily in the show and i’m hoping it improves bc like - Zoya is insulated from most racism due to her status, but we still get that comment about “YOU from Novokribirsk?” comment from another Grisha, which seemed like a pretty obvious slight at her being Suli. Alina experiences racism everywhere she goes from nearly everyone she meets - random cooks, cartographers, servants, Zoya, and the Darkling himself. Even Genya sort of brushes off the comment about her eyes as like, typical bullying and not something very different & much more insidious. Mal looks uncomfortable at the anti Shu Han propaganda & I think that’s it? Which feels weird bc he doesn’t have the class protection Zoya has, but maybe he doesn’t *look Suli* culturally the way Zoya and Inej clearly do. Or are Mal AND Alina both supposed to be Shu Han? We know from Inej and Nina (and maybe Zoya, idk, i never read king of scars bc i would have to acknowledge Matthias & David’s deaths and I refuse) that the Suli are still mistreated on a legal level in addition to social, but are maybe treated marginally better than the Shu that live in Ravka, bc Ravka is in an active war against Shu Han. Is that the difference in what Mal experienced vs what Alina does? lol or i’m overthinking something that clearly wasn’t thought out very well before they put it in the show. I just like. Do Not think Mal is meant to be a white Ravkan, firstly bc Archie isn’t a white brit, and secondly because - look at him aksjdjd that is not a man that can really pass for white. I hope they handle Alina’s background better, especially since she’ll be interacting with other Shu characters, in s2 but i also want an explanation for Mal’s background!!!

I do think it’s funny that the sickness grisha get if they don’t use their powers is very informed in the show. Mal makes a few comments about Alina being sick all the time but she doesn’t actually look or act sick at any point in the show aksksk

Mal is so strong, like the dude is fuckin ripped, a fucking volcra tries to rip Alina away and he’s just like “yeah i can take this bitch with one hand” aksjsj

I feel bad for that lil blond boy that clearly has a thing for Alina lmao he really tries to stick up for her and she does not even notice a little bit and then he dies bc West Ravka is like “anyways don’t get captured even tho we’re at war with half the world and you have no resources, crew, or family over here” ya, they’re way better than Old Ravka smh (Zlatan is just as big of a bitch as the king and darklng dammit)

Interesting that Zoya only gets shitty with Alina after both the Darklng & Mal clearly choose her over Zoya. Mal she probably doesn’t gaf about, but it definitely stung her pride that she can’t even pull an orphan from Keramzin but Alina can. Before that tho, even if she’s thrown by Alina, she clearly sees Alina as One Of Us. She even looks visibly annoyed when everyone starts laughing at Alina and her “i’m a mapmaker” response & seems to pick up on the implied racism of the “what are you” question. It’s an annoying response that after being rejected, Zoya uses that racism against Alina to put her in her place but like…I guess it’s not wildly ooc? bleh.

Ivan and Fedyor purposefully ignoring the Shu Of It All when talking about power and privilege is 100% why Alina takes so long to trust the grisha, and so easily turns against the Darklng imo. For all they understand the danger of being Grisha, for all Ivan wants to lecture Alina about her privilege at dinner, none of them even bother to understand what it’s like now, right now, for the poor of Ravka. You serve in the army & let the Darklng indoctrinate you with his nonsense, or you flee like the mother in the first episode does, taking your chances with the slavers & the volcra & the Fjerdans. There are no good choices for the grisha, no good choices for the non grisha peasantry, and Alina’s entire existence, from the never ending racism she experiences, to the death and starvation she’s surrounded by, is a constant reminder how few choices that exist no matter if you’re grisha or not.

So like, most of the bad guys have Weird Foreign Accents and I dislike it. All the Ravkans should have Russian accents but it’s only Fedyor & a few mean servants that do. The Fjerdans all have accents. Pekka has an accent. Everyone else is just a brit, including people in Kerch, even tho they don’t even speak the same language as the Ravkans do, they speak Kerch! Why does Kaz not have some country bumpkin accent dammit

“When our closest friend is in trouble, we do foolish things.” Smash cut to Kaz doing the Dumbest shit in an attempt to protect Inej from Heleen l m a o it’s not one whipped bitch in this show it’s two (it’s three actually, Matthias just hasn’t shown up yet lmao)

When Mal & Alina are both envisioning each other & reach out to hold the others’ hand, hundreds of miles away but desperate for comfort, THAT was the moment i fell for them. Archie & Jessie are just so Powerful okay aksjdjd

feels more obvious in retrospect that he’s not trying to train her to do anything but answer to him. he doesn’t even bother preparing her for the king bc he knows he can amplify her powers, so long as she’s not fighting him.

I do not buy Baghra’s insistence that Alina’s feelings for Mal hold her back. She’s able to summon her powers when she’s angry, and Baghra takes that short cut by continuously pissing Alina off. But Alina also uses her powers whenever she thinks of protecting Mal; she protects him on the skiff & when she remembers trying to run away with him for protection, she can summon a bit of her power. It’s Alina’s compassion that gives her abilities, but Baghra has spent so much time nurturing her own bitterness, watching her son nurture his anger, it just never occurs to her that Alina’s strength comes from her desire to protect the people she loves. Alina goes from wanting solely to protect Mal to channeling her power through her anger and rejection & Baghra treats it like a win but it’s just another shortcut that clearly makes her more susceptible to the Darklng whispering in her ear, not less, and if Baghra had any goddamn sense, she would have seen that she was making her son’s job easier. But like, the darklng didn’t just come out of nowhere lmao, and you can clearly see where he gets his defeatist, manipulative, and bleak ass outlook on life from.

As a certified Matthias stan still refusing to acknowledge the end of crooked kingdom, i think it is genuinely so funny that Mal gets chest wound after gut wound after chest wound in s1 and shrugs it off, but Matthias gets shot one (1) time and dies immediately & cannot be saved by the most powerful heartrender that ever lived. leigh PLS

“you are my true north and i can see my way to you now” IM JUST.

Genya has to hurt Alina’s feelings by lying about Mal, then immediately and smoothly changes the subject to something that will make Alina laugh. She knows she has to betray Alina and she tries her hardest to soften the blow, encourages Alina to return to the blue kefta instead of going too hard towards the Darkling so she has the protection of a color and a people, warns her as best as she can to be wary of the Darklng, even while she’s helping isolate Alina from anyone who could help her escape. i’m so depressed about Genya.

Enter David and Genya loses her damn mind ansjsjdjdjd Alina is doing miracle sun summoning and Genya just watches David the whole time, who probably cannot fucking believe his luck that his weird ass boss for ONCE is letting him hang out with the meanest, coolest, smartest person in the palace instead of Ivan & Fedyor, who spend all their time flirting with each other and bullying him

Fjerda is lichrally trying to commit genocide against the grisha & Shu Han does…some jacked up shit to their grisha lol, and i did a whole post about how the Darklng is just more of the same, but so is Baghra. All their talk of looking out for Grisha, but they both treat the peasantry of Ravka as disposable. Nikolai is theeeee only valid ruler specifically bc he does think of the cost to the peasantry & to the grisha before he makes decisions (something his father and his brother also don’t do lol). And both Baghra & Aleksander allow this “us vs them” bs to permeate through their own people - no grisha healers help the first army, and Ivan reads the dead but glosses over the Otkazat'sya deaths to focus on the grisha. but this is on purpose - if you make the grisha other the Otkazat'sya, you can easily turn them against one another. neither baghra nor aleksander ever work towards like, actual freedom for the grisha by building bridges and relationships between the grisha and the Otkazat'sya, they just turn the grisha into weird, insular child soldiers.

Alina realizing she can just swing on the racists now love that for her

Mal tends to deal with his feelings for Alina bubbling to the surface by purposefully breaking the tension; closing his eyes & going to sleep when they’re thrown in the brig, cracking a joke about going to Ketterdam when he steals her food. But their convo in the woods after they’re reunited is the first time he doesn’t try it - you can almost see he wants to, when she says she cheated on the grisha test bc she didn’t want to leave him, his whole brain short circuits at what it could mean, and it’s a moment where he might have purposefully broken the tension but instead he takes a minute to think before he tries to open up abiut his own feelings - only to get derailed & heartbroken by the realization that the stag drawing wasn’t Alina trying to communicate with him, but Aleksander manipulating & isolating her. But he still doesn’t break the tension - he lets Alina hold him, and he holds her in return, & stops running from his feelings for real this time.

I do find it so funny how Aleksander sees David raising his hand to speak, initially starts to tell him to knock it off, and then realizes David will not understand why Ivan and him find it annoying & just decides to choose his battles aksjjdjd.

Also, him going through the five stages of grief when he realizes Mal & Alina are together, and overdramtigcally monologuing about the orphans of Keramzin being reunited to this random dude who has no idea wtf he’s talking about. Perfect, no notes.

Episode 7 is just very well written. All the conversations are tense, all the action is painful, all the acting is amazing. From David half in tears as he helps enslave Alina, all the anger going out of Alina when she realizes the king was raping Genya, Genya’s guilt & shame over her own hand in betraying Alina stopping her from talking even though she’s usually so composed, Mal’s helpless snarl when he says Aleksander will wish he’d killed him, even Aleksander’s inability to look Alina in the eyes because he knows she’s right to hate him it’s just that he thinks she’s a justifiable sacrifice. Meanwhile the Crows are being the most chaotic idiots ALIVE akskdkdk just perfect, excellent writing.

What i think is interesting is that Alina makes the hypocrisy argument to Genya, and it works. Genya appeals to Alina’s compassion when she admits the king has been raping her, but Alina pieces together that Aleksander placed her in front of the king to begin with. Not a soldier, just a pawn. And Genya is so struck by this argument she has no counter; she just leaves in tears. Alina tries this with Aleksander as well, to get him to see the hypocrisy in his actions - of killing the king because the king is a monster, yet using the fold as a weapon. It has the complete opposite effect because whereas Genya is aware on some level that she’s being used, Aleksander is so far removed from his own experiences as a pawn, as a target, he can’t see her point.

“all countries will answer to us. for who would oppose us now?”

means Something to me that Immediately after that nasty comment from that heartrender, Zoya sees another Suli girl (who, if we remember, someone she is friends with just called Suli trash before getting got by said Suli girl) who is about to be killed, witnesses the destruction of her home and what she will find is the death of the only person who ever loved her as a child, and makes the decision to betray the only stability she’s ever known for the glimmer of hope that Alina can offer her.

It’s also exactly what I mean when I say I hope we get an explanation for Mal’s background. In Inej’s chapters we get the sense that the Suli are a people that draw close together, even outside Ravka. Her curse on Bajan clearly hits him hard; even clearly trying to assimilate into Kerch culture, the thought that his Suli ancestors may forsake him for harming a fellow Suli really gets under his skin. So in the show, what I love is we get a small exploration of this bond that exists between all Suli as outsiders in their home countries - Zoya and Inej instinctively working together, Recognizing that bond in each other, with Inej even attempting to stop Zoya from going back to the ruins of the city, of wanting Zoya to stay with them. And Zoya, despite her pained history with her own people, despite her comments about Alina being [redacted], clearly returns those feelings. She’s so much warmer with Inej, and vice verse, then say, Jesper is with Mal (he’s not cold to Mal, he’s just Typical Jesper). The thing is - maybe you could argue Zoya and Mal kind of take a small interest in each other because they recognize the other is Suli, but Inej and Mal don’t really have that connection in the time they know each other, and Zoya and Mal are much more cordial with each other than Zoya and Inej are. OBVIOUSLY there are other factors at play. But. Whereas we get a hint of Zoya’s own complicated past, and Inej is defined by her ties to her culture, Mal doesn’t really show any of this beyond one single uncomfortable look at a Shu Han propaganda poster, and that’s likely more to do with Alina than his own background. I JUST THINK ITS WEIRD AND CLUMSY OKAY.

idek what to say about Alina’s amazing speech besides HELL YEAH THATS MY WIFE. she’s so fucking cool.

Ivan’s lil bitch ass being like “know your place” RIGHT AFTER Alina gives her “you asked WHAT I am” speech and then Jesper being like “i think the fuck not” and tossing him overboard. absolutely perfect i love that man.

Zoya looks so uncomfortable during the whole conversation by the fire. For the first time, she’s the outsider - the lone splash of color against the browns and blacks of the crows and malina. But when Zoya says she has to go back, Inej shoots up to stop her, and even Kaz attempts to dissuade her from what he thinks is no better than a suicide run. Since her childhood, Zoya has seemed alone, but just as her aunt stepped in to save her then, and the crows attempt to console her now, Zoya is never as alone as she feels.

And neither is Alina! Knowing where their stories end up going, i think it is interesting that both Zoya and Alina are very adaptable and very adept at making very loyal friends. Despite all the odds against them, with them being Suli and Shu, with Zoya being a huge bitch (which I love) and Alina constantly struggling with her own self worth, other people see just how amazing the two of them are and are willing to fight for them, with them, to be near them. Sankta Alina and the Grisha Queen. Wonderful.

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #rani's liveblogging tag #anti darkling #ben barnes is a magnificent actor who imbues a lot of depth into a character that is a textbook abuser & i love him. aleksander can choke.#i’m in mobile so i can’t put it under a cut i’ll do that later probably #rani attempts meta #there’s a lil meta here so it’s going in that tag #if u want to comment u can. u can even disagree but if ur a bitch about it i will be a bitch back

29 notes · View notes

madstronaut · 5 months ago

Text

let us rewind, to simpler times...comfort fic times🌿💝

yes I will admit - I, too, was swept up by the 🌪️hu-reylo-ricane🌪️ in 2016 - and this was pre-2017, ere the era of ben swolo and force dyad fuckery etc etc - I probably spent hours upon hours reading fic after fic on ff.net and ao3 - some absolutely fan-fucking-tastic, rip-my-soul-to-shreds-and-stitch-it-back-together-with-my-own-veins-stripped-from-my-limbs vibe stories but just two in particular I hold dear to my heart - one of the fics is so deeply significant & personal to me in such an intimate and revealing way I keep bumping it to the bottom of my 30-story-tall faficowrimo list - and the other one being this G-rated, <10k word, two chapter modern student/teacher's asst. college AU. lolwat anyway dive into the deepend of yet another of my faficowrimo rambles with me~

I don't believe @/heyloreylo aka @/on_my_toes is on tumblr anymore after a cursory search to tag, but dear writer if you ever see this, I want to say 🌿thank you🌿 for writing this story (and from an anon prompt!!! wow), I come back to this time and again when I feel homesick for places I haven't been (ugh I know the perfect word for this in my mother tongue but no such english word really captures it succinctly...#multilingualprobs)

Reading: Where There's Smoke, There's Fire by on_my_toes

When I found this fic (or rather when it found me) I, like Rey, was in an exhausting season where I felt I was perpetually living my days as one long night-before-a-big-final and that life kept setting afire any place I attempted to lay my head for a breather - foxes have holes and birds have nests, everyone but me, indeed - and feeling the weariness and loneliness of a season where there are Just Some Things You Must Travail Alone™️, even amidst friends who stick closer than brothers. (Yes I get straight biblical/shakespearean when I wax poetic, pls dont yap in my DMs if you take issue doth bite your thumb at me, good sir)

something I love about my comfort fics is how easy I find it is to leave all mis problemos at the door and slip into the world of the story and the emotions and actions of the characters and I can return again and again and experience all the emotions that swell out of me in a very freeing, cathartic, practiced, and predictably famiilar way anyway yes like 99.5% of people on this hellsite (affectionate) fanfic is also therapy for meeeee

I think like Ben the TA and Rey the chem student in this fic - we all, at times, develop and wear a hard outer shell to protect & distance ourselves and project power - the hardass TA wearing suits/formal/officewear/frowns like armor, the single female orphan student tensed, always ready to let fly a prepared right hook (or a verbal barb, or witty jab, or a cutting look, etc. etc. fill in the blanks)- esp. when cracks in our armor show - but Ben responds to Rey immediately with imho a curiously direct and bold display of care, compassion, and openheartedness - offering Rey the coat off his back, immediately opening his childhood!home to her, calling her by name, encouraging her in his own awkward ass way re: the chem final comment...also I sense from his first words he was watching and waiting to step in only until he was absolutely certain Rey could use his help - and in this sense, adding to and reinforcing to her strength rather than taking it away

there's something about being thrown right into deep end of the pool from the very start of the fic that makes meeting Ben so rewarding - Rey here is clearly tough as nails but caught outside with no shoes on, literally, at a very vulnerable moment - because even the strongest of us can't be strong all the time thank you pete, my IRL moot, for that bit of timely wisdom when I needed it 🌱 - and Ben Swolo meeting her here, not swooping in to save her per se, but shore up and compliment her strength instead and reveal so much more than he probably intended from the start of this afterhours interaction with her - just melts the most frozen parts of my heart every.single.fucking.time 💙🥺

I mentioned how familiar this fic was to me and it's not really the story but the emotions and people it reminds me of...

the way Ben loves Rey - in actions and words - so readily and easily - reminds me of my IRL beloveds who have done same for me

Rey so easily shrugging off help, even when sorely needed, is a heartachingly familiar place personally - and I see shades of my past and sometimes present self in her - but as the story unfolds I am reminded both of her growth and my own and the people who helped, and stayed, and remembered, and walked with and returned to me on my journey, just like with Rey here and I see the best parts of love and humanity in its many forms - familial, in friendship, in a lover - in the twists and turns of this story and anyway am I crying? what the fuck NOT AGAIN anyway moving on-

There is something unmistakably playful in the expression, and she feels her heart do this strange and slightly unwelcome flop at the sight of it.

🥺🥺🥺 I'm not sure if there's like a medical term for this physical sensation but besides looking upon my beloveds, reading fanfic also elicits this sensation in me

He looks down at her, seeming a bit disarmed by her smile. She has pushed him too far. She is about to take a step back and shut the hell up before she digs herself a bigger hole, but just then he smiles back at her, the sight of it so unexpected that he seems like an entirely different person. Handsome, even.

men, take notes - the power of a smile actually is quantifiably a helluva difference maker also stop fucking asking women on the street you don't know to smile its 2024 motherfuckers

It’s strange to think that this fully-grown, slightly intimidating person has parents nearby. 😂😂😂 this definitely reminded me of the shock I had as a madstrokiddo when I ran into a teacher at a supermarket once because I thought she lived at school, you know, the teacher's natural habitat and enclosure-

“I know how scary these tests can be,” he says, setting her at ease a bit by steering the conversation back to academics. “We have a guest room. It’s no trouble at all. I’ll give you a ride back to campus in the morning.”

She stares up at him, and there is something in his uncertainty, in the strange shyness that seems so incongruent with the strict TA she has come to know in class, that she trusts him. Completely.

I FUCKING LOVE SHYBOIS, SHYBOIS FOR PRESIDENT 2024, I WILL BE YOUR SECRET SERVICE/PROTECT YOU WITH MY LIMB AND LIFE FOR FREE please god literally anyfuckingonelse for president other than the two golfing seniors for 2024 anyway i digress

“Hey.” Ben’s voice is soft and careful, close to her ear. oh I fucking love this (whispering, because this moment is tender and sacred)

He eases her out of the car, remembering to grab her socks, and then walks her up the brick stairs to a lovely, quaint little home that she remembers passing on some of her long distance training runs during the cross country season.

She had always envied it for its simplicity, for the little flower pots in the window ledges, for the sweet little porch swing on the front deck. It looked like a place where people were happy. It looked like a home...

A familiar ache rises up in her as she turns, taking it all in — the way the home is so lived in, so worn, so well-loved...

She swipes at her eyes, turning to face him with a strange and misplaced guilt.

Her face burns. She isn’t sure what to say to that. She has lived with Poe and Finn for almost a year, but even now it is strange to her, the idea that someone might worry on her behalf. The idea that someone cares.

Yours. It’s a curious choice of words. There aren’t many things that belong to her in this world, and she knows for a fact that this isn’t one of them. Still, as she melts into the cotton sheets and the seemingly infinite pillows, her eyelids so heavy that they feel like molasses, she lets all of her usual defenses fall to the wayside. Despite everything, she feels comfortable here. Despite everything, she feels … safe.

these few paragraphs detailing Rey's experience in the Solo cottage is one of the main reasons why I come back to this fic - I still remember the first time I read that sentence "it looked like a place where people were happy, it looked like a home" and how Rey reacted - I bawled my eyes out because I was also in the middle of losing a sense of home so to speak when I read this, and I felt so seen in seeing the same feelings through Rey's eyes here - that helpless feelng of the embarassment of missing out on what everyone else take for granted - and it made me feel less alone and helped dry out that really raw, wet sense of grief a leetle bit more to something more manageable every time I went back to read it ❤️‍🩹🥹💙

also Ben readily offering to Rey things like friendship to fall back on in hard times, an open ear and heart and home to take you in, a safe and strong presence through a night(s) of crisis, a nice, soft, warm bed to rest in, someone to say to you “I would have worried about you if you hadn’t," someone to care about you, someone to make you a meal 💛- was very healing to read and be reminded of 🌿🌿🌿

She barrels into him so hard that it almost knock the wind out of her. She would have ended up with her butt on the floor, but Ben’s instincts are quicker than hers, and he reaches out and steadies her before she plummets — which unfortunately, ends with her pressed up against him so close that she nearly bangs into his chin with her forehead.

mmmm chin rest height is optimal couple height diff 🤭

But most of all, she is embarrassed by his tenderness. Embarrassed by the way he has inconvenienced himself for her, and gone to all this trouble, when she is not worth it by any degree. She has nothing to offer him, no way to thank him.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says slowly, his bewilderment incongruous with her panic, with the way she scurries toward the door.

“I do, though,” she says, her eyes stinging with her embarrassment.

this whole exchange ending with the "you don't have any shoes oh and btw I washed ur underwear" first off is fucking excellent nay perfect comedic timing, but also REY!!! I want to give you such a big hug for being so human (when I first went to see Force Awakens with a bff she mentioned how she loved how Rey was able to cry so freely and keep and protect her tenderness while surviving in a harsh desert and that comment has always stuck with me), dear writer (toes? toesy? idk what to call writer) you light these complex emotions in such stark relief and in such a familiar and recognizable way they become a lot less lonelier and scarier to face as a result 💖💖💖

I thought the ch. 1 ending was fucking perfect so of course as I usually do, fucking screeched upon seeing a continuation

first off, LMAO @ Hurricane Kylo

Ahch-To University 😂 so IRL Ahch-To is an Irish island named Skellige Michael that is still on my bucketlist of places to visit (apparently it is very weather-dependent and a bit difficult to reach, via local boats only)

She raises an eyebrow at him. It’s the first time she has directly looked at him, and it is like staring at the sun. 🥺🥰

I love the reversal in fortune with Rey now coming to rescue Ben amidst his own storm and the little mystery woven in the breadcrumbs of Rey-left-after-last-semester and seeing Rey, truly, from Ben's eyes and heart and his crush showing in so many cute little ways 🥰🥰🥰

How he sometimes let himself imagine following her, asking her out for coffee, getting to know her, or even…

even what? EVEN WHAT BEN???? HMMM??? TELL US, THIS IS A SPICY SAFE SPACE-

He crouches beside her as low to the ground as he can get. Too late he realizes that her faces in inches from his. Her eyes are shut, her skin ghostly pale against the smear of blood on her forehead, but she still seems a lot more calm than he feels right now, his heart beating in too many places at once.

The rain impossibly starts to beat down even harder, the roar of it unimaginable. Rey’s mouth opens wide and he realizes even though he can’t hear it that she’s laughing out loud.

Only then does the chaos seem somewhat manageable. Only then does the beat of his heart seem to find some semblance of a normal rhythm. No matter what happens in this upside down world, they’re in this together. 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

I have been on a journey processing and sifting the poison and the balm from my religious upbringing so TW for some church-ish talk but I am reminded of tale of a certain carpenter's son sleeping in the midst of a storm - an image that I have always loved - I used to imagine during storms so to speak that I always had a safe haven of open arms waiting for me and inviting me to rest instead of fight or freak out - and wake up to see the storm abated, and not alone - and for some reason this little tidbit recalls that story, that feeling, and that image of peace in the midst of storms for me

alternately reminded of Lt. Nate Fick's speech from Generation Kill on the humvee wheel he was taking cover in during a firefight being 'the safest place in the world' - often not a matter of what and why but where and who you are with that brings much perspective 💙✨

Rey winces slightly, and Ben immediately regrets asking. In that moment the wind dies down just enough that there is no denying the tension between them. She pulls away, just slightly, enough that their bodies are still touching but nowhere near as intimately as before.

this is so real - many times our body speaks when our words can't

This time the gesture is so thoughtless, so innate, that he doesn’t even realize he’s moved until his fingers are skimming her forehead, pushing the hair back from her face. Her eyes lock on his, wide with surprise and a kind of hunger in them — never taking her gaze off of him, she leans ever-so-slightly into his touch, like someone who is both wary of affection and longing for it all at once.

I love this story's Ben in how easily he loves Rey in thought and words and gesture, I found it very healing to read about such a man but also in my later reads - inspirational, encouraging, and exemplary for me to be the same - and seek and coax it out of those around me ❤️❤️❤️

“She had a good, long life,” she says, in that optimistic way of hers. “I’m just glad I got to be a part of it.” I hope to say this of my IRL and tumblr beloveds and moots as well 🌿✨

She has always seemed so untethered, so separate from everyone else. It is the reason he was so drawn to her — he has always felt out of place himself, despite his best efforts. But now that he has some understanding of Rey’s past, however small it is, he feels some part of his heart cinching for her in some unfamiliar, powerful way. In those moments, he seems to absorb her sadness as if it is his own, and it is a burden he is more than willing to bear. 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

“I’m Rey,” she says, almost merrily. “And this is the second time your son has saved my ass.” 😂😂😂 alexa, play smooth operator by sade (yeah im gonna bring this meme back, watch me)

His father tosses back the phone and Rey catches it deftly, dialing a number she must know by heart. I appreciate this detail of foster rey memorizing phone numbers of close contacts 🫂❤️‍🩹

As terrifying as the ordeal was, there was something so intimate in it, some unknowable shared feeling that passed between them, and now … he can already feel it peeling away, as if it never happened. He can already see the sun spilling out of the clouds, people poking their heads out of their doors, the the world resuming in its ordinary way, and it’s all somehow insulting to the profundity of what just happened to them.

Fucking incredible paragraph, I'm pretty much nearly speechless at this point

well all this to say, I found this fic this fic found me when I was at a low point in my life, shone a light down into my little hole/valley and made me remember I could find the strength within me to climb out - and take the hands of friends and recognize the presence of beloveds ready to meet me where I was and help me climb out together...

...and I am incredibly, incredibly grateful that I started reading beyond the Explicit/Inappropriate Use of the Force Bond tagged reylo fics to find this gem

#madstrothought #FaFiCoWriMo #fanfiction #star wars #rey x ben solo #reylo #can't believe I typed out reylo in the year of our lord 2024 #where there's smoke there's fire #on_my_toes #comfort fics #heyloreylo #Inappropriate Use of the Force is a real tag btw

1 note · View note

yinyuedijun · 3 months ago

Text

MISS LENA U SPOIL ME WAY TOO MUCH W UR COMMENTS AQHTLGJSKDJS you don't know the kind of serotonin I got from reading your tags and comments THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH 😭😭😭 (especially so soon after I posted it too!! I literally was like damn why am I checking notifs at 3am nobody is awake to read this AND THEN YOU REBLOGGED 🥺)

NOT YOU REFRESHING THE DASH... please u are so sweet ♥️ i am very sorry that it didn't turn out to be 10k+ words of smut LOLLL i am sadly not built like that as a writer 💔 and I believe I have accidentally engaged in falsely advertising to make people expect that of chapter 2 😔 regardless I hope u found the smut hot, I did try to make it as raunchy as I could 🙏

re: the feral cat line, it was actually based on a shitpost about wbk when I was first watching it LMAOOO sakura just genuinely reminds me of my feral tuxedo cat that I adopted and socialized 😔 I do love the "capturing a stray cat" analogy that you brought up though. I do think the reader, despite her social skills, has some stray animal energy to her and trapping her is exactly what teenage suo didn't want to do, yet adult suo unrepentantly did HAHAHHFLDHFKSJ.

I LOVED READING ALL YOUR COMMENTARY ABT THE SEX SCENES!!! not just the funny bits (altho I laughed so hard at some of ur comments.... "can he bite you" yes he'd be more than happy <3), but also all your observations about how reader was just incredibly starved for intimacy and how traumatized she actually was :')))) I really did try to portray all of that despite her narration constantly attempting to obfuscate her feelings with comedy and horniness, and I actually was worried that the way she broke down during sex wouldn't land well because of it! so I'm incredibly glad that her terrible emotional state came through for you as a reader 🥺

I adored your observation about her wanting to be loved "so simply", you weren't reading too much into it at all! the bottom tiers of maslow's hierarchy of needs have not been met enough for her to worry about anything remotely self-actualizing. she needs a sense of security (with suo) and SATISFYING VANILLA SEX (with suo) before she can think abt anything else 😔

IM SO GLAD U LIKE THE MARRIAGE MENTIONS <3 suo wants to wife the reader so bad it's probably his most redeeming trait in this au ngl. otherwise he is a stinky horrible man. I did find it SO FUNNY how you compared him to a manhwa lead tho ALGJSKE CLEARLY I NEED TO BE READING MORE MANHWA. I am sorry for the heartbreak though. unfortunately self-indulgence for me involves men being So Crazy And So Soggy so you must deal with that psychic damage 💔💔💔 (but also, I just didn't know how else to tie up the narrative ALGJSDJEJ and I'm glad u enjoyed the ending line because it really was a sudden improvisation after pantsing the whole fic rip)

I laughed genuinely when you mentioned ari's suo posting too LMAOOOOO. I know what u mean tho every time I have felt remotely normal about suo, I see one of ari's posts and go back to being deeply abnormal about him. I'm glad to have incidentally contributed to the suo agenda alongside him 😎😎😎 my greatest achievement

THANK YOU AGAIN FOR READING N REBLOGGING!!! genuinely I can't thank you enough for spoiling me with such a long and detailed comment 🥺 SENDING U SO MUCH LOVE !!!!

TOKYO VICE | part 2

“Do you remember,” Suo begins, voice light, “how our master always talked about how important it is to engage with each other’s feelings?” You tense. “No,” you blurt out, and Suo laughs. “Of course not,” he plays along. “You were always so terrible at it. But I've been doing a bad job too, lately. So”—he reaches beneath your dress, hooks your thong with his fingers and starts pulling the fabric down your sticky thighs—“I wanted to have an honest conversation with you.” (Or: Tired of your lies and self-deception, Suo takes matters into his own hands and forces the truth out of you.)

12.8k words. suo x fem reader. deeply unserious yakuza au ft. yandere suo. mostly unrepentant smut, comedy, angst. warnings: sex work. nsft tags: afab reader, emotional sex, fingering, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, pussyjob, just the tip, creampie. suo is mean and makes you cry but there's no degradation, he's just a bastard lol. he also manhandles you a lot and you sit in his lap. dividers by @/cafekitsune!

You're surprised at Suo’s indifference to your sex life.

A month has gone by, and he’s made no comment on your habit of sleeping with customers, nor on the hours during which you come home—which are now even later than usual, since you have express permission to sleep with people and have no need to rush back to the penthouse after your ‘appointments’. And it isn't as if he's ignoring the reality of your late nights either. In a stunning show of respect for your personal freedom, he now actively offers to arrange for someone to pick you up from whichever love hotel you'll end up at. (You always decline, of course—if you're going to pretend to be his wife, you'd rather pretend to be a faithful one.)

Ironically, you had initially thought that Suo’s approval wouldn't matter either way. You had found the sex with your clients to be so uninspiring that it made you miss celibacy, so you were planning on stopping. But it turned out that you were deeply affected by the experience of sitting in Suo’s lap as he talked about his expectation of deciding whose cocks you should be allowed to take. It did something horrible to your sex drive, and thus you turned to work as your only outlet.

You spent around three weeks desperately trying to find a customer to satisfy your urges—or at the very least, to fuck you in a way that could get you to stop thinking of Suo whenever you got even a little horny. You were faced with utter failure in this pursuit, and in the end, bleakly resigned yourself to the reality that your shameful attraction to your best friend is incurable. You’ve now given up on the love hotel visits and simply take care of your needs with a vibrator instead. At least this way, you can actually say Suo’s name while you cum, rather than constantly reminding yourself to say your customer’s name instead.

The freedom of letting yourself fantasise about Suo has been exhilarating, but terrible for your friendship. It’s just difficult to sit across from him at breakfast and act like you haven't touched yourself at the table while he was gone, fantasising about what it would be like if he bent you over it and fucked you dumb. But you are a decent actor—hostessing demands that of you—so you don't think Suo has caught onto your carnal desires for him. Hopefully, he never will.

Another couple of weeks pass like this. Things are so calm that you come to believe that Suo is genuinely fine with you having some degree of sexual freedom, at least at work. This, however, turns out to be nothing short of naïvete.

After all, Suo is never forceful when he's upset with your decisions—but he also never fails to redirect them.

One spring evening, you show up at the kyabakura and are told that you’re only to see one customer tonight, and that it will be a private session.

“But we don't do private sessions here,” you say, blissfully unaware of your imminent suffering, “and we don't even have private rooms at this establishment.”

To this, your mamasan responds that the club is making an exception for this one guest, and that this guest has rented out the rooftop bar just to see you. When you ask just who this person might be, a look of mild panic flashes through her eyes. She grabs you by the shoulders and tells you to be careful. Just keep him happy and go home after, okay? she says. Don't go out for drinks, and definitely don't go to any love hotels. Don’t tell him your real name at any cost. You don't want to involve yourself with a man like him.

A sense of dread fills you as you step into the elevator.

A cool breeze greets you when you step onto the rooftop patio. Normally bustling with a raucous crowd, it almost feels eerie in its emptiness. Aside from the glow of the red light district beneath you and the city skyline in the distance, the only light is coming from the candles lighting one of the booths.

Your anxiety intensifies as you approach it.

You aren't very surprised at the sight of Suo lounging on a leather couch, dressed in full criminal regalia—infamous eyepatch, tassel earrings, and all. Sakura once mentioned that this club is connected to some colour gang, so you figure that the manager likely recognized Gui Yanzhao on sight. He probably suffered a minor angina when he did. The mamasan herself has no criminal ties to your knowledge, but she was probably informed that one of her girls was to entertain a high-profile yakuza, and she was likely worried that you'd been maimed in the process. Gui Yanzhao has a bit of a reputation for being a sadist, after all.

While you appreciate her concern, it is not Suo’s history of violence that scares you, but his history of antagonising you. On good days, there's nothing that delights him more than seeing you flustered or off-kilter. On bad days, there’s nothing that consoles him like spiteful retaliation against whomever's managed to piss him off—and you have, without a doubt, managed to piss him off.

You groan as soon as you see him, fearing the worst for your mental health.

“What are you doing here,” you say, and Suo smiles.

“Oh? You're not happy to see me?”

“No,” you moan. “How are you even here right now? Aren't you worried about being assassinated or something? Who did you terrorise to get an entire rooftop bar to yourself?”

“I have a very cordial relationship with all the major organisations on Keisei Street and was promised immunity during my visit tonight,” Suo says neatly. “And I didn't terrorise anyone. I simply walked into this fine establishment and politely asked for a private space to enjoy with my preferred hostess.”

Neither of you need to mention that the sight of the tassel earrings alone would be enough to terrorise someone. The manager probably felt like he was being extorted just from being on the receiving end of Suo’s smile. Actually, you currently feel like you're being extorted too.

You spend a good few moments giving him a look of open distress, to which he smiles.

“You know,” he says, “for a top-ranking hostess, you're not showing much hospitality right now.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

You force yourself to stop, remembering that you are, in fact, at work. Despite your mixed feelings about your industry, at the end of the day, you pride yourself on your work ethic. You take your job very seriously, and your job right now is to entertain your customer—even if said customer is your fake yakuza husband who is toying with you as a cat would a mouse.

Resigning yourself to a night of probable humiliation (one of Suo's greatest passions in addition to lying for comedy), you walk over to sit yourself next to him. And just like in Red Dragon’s lounge, Suo overturns the decision by pulling you into his lap. Your eyes go wide as he settles you on top of him—because unlike the intimate space of that crime scene, this is expressly forbidden behaviour at your club.

Also, unlike that other night, you are currently wearing the shortest dress imaginable and the tiniest thong you own.

You find yourself shivering as Suo's hand settles on your lower back, which is fully exposed thanks to the cut of your dress. You try not to focus on the calloused press of his fingers against your bare skin, but this is an exceedingly difficult endeavour, as his touch has been featured in your sexual fantasies for the past several weeks. Worse yet—your dress is now riding up your ass, and your thong isn't doing much to cover you. Whatever material his pants are made of—light, delicate—feels incredibly good against your thighs too.

If this continues, you might cum on the spot.

“Wait,” you say, and Suo raises a brow.

“Oh?”

“You aren't supposed to touch the hostesses here.”

He smiles. “I'm sure this place might be able to make an exception for me. But only if you are personally willing to, of course.”

“...”

Making an exception for him, in your current situation, would be among the worst decisions you've ever made. But after two of the most sexually frustrating months of your life, you’re ready to make horrible decisions.

“Fine,” you say. “But you better not cheap out on the drinks. The mamasan will only overlook this if you make it worth our while.”

“Of course,” Suo says. “Though I think she’d overlook a lot of things for me regardless.”

Suo makes good on his promise and orders a great deal of alcohol. All top shelf, of course. He laughs that his goal is to bring you to the number 1 ranking with his patronage alone tonight. It’s a hideous display of wealth.

As you pour him an absurdly expensive drink (a Hibiki 30 year-old blended whiskey), you reminisce on how little money you both used to have as teens. He had to be so careful with his wallet whenever he felt like visiting you—or rather, checking in on you—at work. Especially after your master passed. The two of you were very good about staying financially independent, but there was something comforting about your master’s promise to support you if anything ever happened.

With him gone, you and Suo had only financial paranoia and each other.

You guess that might have affected Suo more than you thought. Perhaps he didn't join the yakuza to spite you, but to support you. Certainly, he seems to enjoy spoiling you right now—treating you to drinks that would easily clear a year of his salary as a teen, buying out an entire night of your time at a high end club, renting out a whole floor just so that he can have you to himself. When you point out that his tab must be getting catastrophic, he only laughs.

“I did always say that I wanted to spend money on you,” he recalls. It had been a running joke during your days at the girls’ bar, when you scolded him for paying 3000¥ per hour just to visit you. You hated that he was wasting money on the red light district; he always replied that it wasn't a waste, because it was money spent to see you.

You feel your stomach flutter at the comment. You didn't think he'd remember words from so long ago. As a teenager, you had a tendency of clinging onto small, inconsequential moments with him because they brought you so much joy. You’ve always assumed he would have forgotten them, writing them off as instances of shallow teasing—but if he remembers, then surely they meant something to him too?

This would all make you feel sentimental if you weren't outrageously horny.

Suo has kept you on his lap the whole evening, even as you pour him drinks. Every movement to serve him has you involuntarily rubbing on his thigh, and you're quite certain at this point that he's been lifting your skirt up inch by inch with every casual touch on your waist. You don't bother accusing him of it, though. He'd just give you an innocent look and say that it was an accident. What a horrible man.

Accident or not though, it doesn't change the fact that your nearly bare cunt is pressed right against him. You keep trying to shift positions to pull down your skirt or lift yourself off him, but each attempt only makes it worse—brings the soft fabric of his pants right against your pussy, or makes your clit drag against his thigh, with only your thong separating your bodies. You try to suppress your arousal, but to your overwhelming horror, you can't seem to control yourself. You feel yourself getting wet, folds quickly becoming slick as you’re forced to grind on him. Your body, already warm from all the cocktails and shots, grows even hotter as you squirm on his lap.

In a desperate move to regain some control, you fully get up to reach for another drink. But then you feel a pair of hands on your waist, and Suo pulls you back onto his leg—this time forcing you to straddle it. You can't help the whimper that leaves you as your dripping cunt is spread and pressed against him, your clit throbbing against his thigh.

You pray that he doesn't notice the noise, so of course he does.

“Hm? Is something wrong?” Suo’s hand drifts over your waist and down to your thigh, where it ghosts over your bare skin. He leans in, and his voice is silky as he speaks into your ear: “You're moving around a lot. Do you need to get up?”

He’s giving you an out. It's quite considerate of him, as staying like this would not be a good decision. But for better or worse, you have a tendency to make bad ones.

“...no, I'm fine.”

“Good,” he says. “Let me know if you’re uncomfortable at all. I'm happy to move if you'd like.”

As if demonstrating, Suo shifts the leg you're sitting on, directly rubbing it against your core. You try not to shudder, feeling yourself get even wetter, clenching around nothing.

Trying to ignore how empty you are, you grasp for other topics of conversation, something to distract you. A little scrambled from the alcohol and catastrophically aroused, you of course land on the one that's been making your sex drive unmanageable.

“Remember a month ago,” you say, “how you talked about choosing who gets to touch me?”

“Yes.” His palm is warm against your thigh. He isn't moving it, so there's plausible deniability, but the amused tone of his voice suggests that he knows what he's doing. “Does that bother you?”

Of course it should bother you. It's a level of control that's appalling even to your anxiously-attached ass. But it’s also making you wetter right now. You try not to cry—from misery or sexual frustration, you're not sure.

“Well, yeah. Come on, Suo—even you should know that's really weird of you.”

“I do,” he says, smiling like he isn't admitting to deranged behaviour. “But how else am I supposed to know you're safe? Or even aside from being safe—if your needs are being met.” His hand runs up and down your thigh before settling at the hem of your dress. “I wouldn't want you to go unsatisfied. Who knows what kind of people you'd seek out if that happened.”

You actively stop yourself from putting your face in your hands. The gall of him saying this after forcing you into extended celibacy is beyond words, especially as you're being forced to rub up on him, effectively ruining every attempt you've made not to think about him sexually for the past several years. There are many materially consequential reasons for your decision to not fuck Suo—you should not be soaked through your panties, your thighs sticky with need, as you sit on his lap.

“That's,” you say lamely, “not very normal of you.” Trying for a less sensual conversation, you go for the reliable topic Sakura’s romance radar: “Also, if satisfaction was your concern, why did you choose Sakura? I love that guy a lot, but he has literally no experience. And I think he'd blue-screen trying to keep a friend with benefits. You know he can't handle a fuckbuddy.”

You are not trying to be mean. What Sakura objectively needs for his first time is someone sweet and emotionally competent and, most importantly, not an absolute freak like you. This is a failure of your character, not his.

You can hear Suo’s smile in his reply: “I don't think you're giving him enough credit.”

“He has the social skills of a feral cat.”

Suo genuinely laughs. “Sure, when he first came to Makochi. But he's much better now. Plus, you have no room to talk. I mean”—his breath sweeps over your ear—“you used to be pretty wild yourself. I've just domesticated you is all… though you've been misbehaving lately.”

His words do something horrible to you. Trying to distract yourself from the mounting sexual tension, you turn to him to give him a biting retort, but you're abruptly stopped by the look in his eye. Distinctly hungry and unrepentant in its desire, his gaze roams openly and shamelessly along the curves of your body.

You feel like you're being eaten alive.

Plenty of customers have looked at you in such a way when you wear this outfit, but none have had this effect on you—which is to say, making you clench immediately.

You try not to cry. You actually will cum on the spot at this rate, and you don't think you could be subtle about it. You're barely keeping it together right now, with how your pussy keeps fluttering and dripping. Coupled with the way that the alcohol is melting the edges of your self-control, you're shocked you haven't at least moaned yet.

In a last ditch effort to save your friendship, as well as your rental (house arrest) situation, you slap a hand over his mouth.

“Stop that.”

Suo laughs. He grabs your wrist, lifts your palm away. “Why?”

Why? Because if you keep talking like that, I'll bend over and start begging you to fuck me! you think. But even in your inebriated, horny state, it feels like a poor idea to admit this aloud. You end up saying, “Hostesses aren't paid to flirt like this. Strictly speaking, we’re paid to be conversational partners.” You frown at him. “You're breaking a lot of club rules right now.”

This reprimand backfires on you, as you are suddenly filled with intrusive thoughts of breaking every single rule in this establishment with Suo, including the ones preventing you from climbing on top of him and riding him raw. You squirm at the thought, wishing you could close your legs rather than making a mess of your underwear (now a lost cause), but Suo’s grip stays firm on your waist.

He, himself, is unbothered by your scolding. “Okay,” he says simply. “Then I won't speak to you as a hostess. I want to speak to you, seriously, as a friend.”

His smile is so disarming, it makes you nervous. But he sounds earnest enough for you to be curious, and anyway, you're desperate for something to distract you from your wet cunt.

“Alright,” you acquiesce, “What do you have to say, as a friend?”

“I just have one question.”

“Sure. Shoot.”

His hand comes to rest in your thigh again. He leans in, breath so hot against your ear that your heart jumps.

“I can accept that you wanted to see customers just to satisfy your urges. But tell me why you didn't come to me first.”

You freeze up. Look at him, wide-eyed.

“Wh-what?”

Suo just smiles. Looks so fucking innocent you wonder if you misheard, but his voice is sharp when he replies: “Let me put it another way. Why have we never slept together?”

For some reason, you’ve never thought that he'd ask you this question point blank, even though you've asked it to yourself many times. It takes you several moments to piece together a response, during which Suo’s expression turns distinctly wicked. A sign that he smells blood.

“Why would you think we would have?” you ask carefully.

“Because we’ve both clearly thought about it. You especially.”

You try to keep a straight face. “No I haven't. I don't know what you're talking about.” You raise a brow. “How would you even know?”

“Because,” he says, hand inching up your thigh, “you’re so wet that I can feel it.”

You're mortified.

Shame floods your body, first because of the accusation, and then because you know it's true. You were tipsy enough not to think about this, but now—sobering up from sheer panic— you're acutely aware of how you've soaked through the fabric beneath you. Something that Suo had certainly known, and chose to encourage.

What a horrible man.

When you don't reply, he tilts his head. “Don't tell me you haven't noticed. Do you want me to show you?”

His hand is moving so slowly, you know he's giving you another out. You could easily get off his lap. You could even slap him and call him a sleazy drunk and grouse at him to go home. You could forgive him in the morning for coming onto you and say he'd obviously made an inebriated mistake, as opposed to a very calculated decision. Your friendship would stay mostly intact. His grip on you might tighten, but that would be fine. You would still get to stay with him.

And that's all you've ever wanted. Just to stay with him.

But you're so wet, so empty, so aching. You want to be touched. You want to be touched by Suo, and only by Suo. You want to be fucked by him, to be owned by him, to be ruined by him. You’ve wanted it so badly and so long that you can't even remember when it started—only that you want it to end.

So instead of moving away, you sit there and endure the humiliation of getting your cunt inspected by him.

Suo hums as he opens your legs. You suppress a whimper as a finger moves along your folds, at the noise it makes as it runs through your slick. “Look, you’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. He finds your clit—swollen, neglected, and you whimper as he starts to draw slow, lazy circles around it. “Poor thing.”

“It’s only because you had me grinding on you the whole night,” you say through gritted teeth. “It doesn't—ngh—doesn’t mean I’ve been wanting to fuck you.”

You sound pissed enough that you'd convince anyone else, but you know, even without seeing his face, that Suo can tell you're bullshitting.

“You’re not a good liar,” he remarks. A fine teacher even when humiliating people, Suo can't help but add, “If you have to tell a lie, at least come up with a believable one.”

“What makes it unbelievable?” you reply, words clipped off by a sharp inhale as he starts rubbing your pussy.

“Well,” he starts nonchalantly, as if he isn't toying with your cunt, “after you were targeted in that succession conflict, I put hidden cameras in the area, and also in our suite.”

Your eyes go wide. Even in your aroused state, the implications are making you panic. “You—you what?”

“It was for security purposes,” he dismisses casually, as if he's not admitting to a serious invasion of privacy. “Only near the front door and the common areas. I just wanted to catch intruders and any suspicious behaviour from my men. But imagine my surprise”—you feel his fingers start to press into your cunt—“when I instead caught you fucking yourself on the couch and moaning my name.”

You’re mortified. Humiliated. Mind racing with every instance you were horny and stupid enough to touch yourself in a common space. You think about yelling at him about the cameras, but then you feel two fingers sinking into you, and now you aren't thinking about much at all.

Your mind goes blank as you're stretched open by him. Your cunt is so wet, so empty, but the feeling still makes you whine. Your brow furrows, and you give him a pleading look. Slowly, please.

“Don't worry,” he says in a soothing tone, “I know you can handle this. I've seen you take much bigger. Though”—he shifts, pulls you so you're in between his legs, and now you can feel the length of him against you, hard and aching and huge, what the fuck—“maybe not big enough.”

You tighten around his fingers as he grinds against you. You want him inside you so badly, it hurts. Suo laughs when he feels your desperation, and he sounds so amused that you can't help but feel ashamed. But even more than shame, you feel aroused. You take the rest of his fingers easily, down to the knuckle.

“What the fuck, Suo,” you eventually manage through your panting, though not with much bite. “You weren't—ahh—meant to see any of that.”

“Sorry,” he says, sounding deeply unapologetic. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn't watch much, and I deleted all of it. I didn't need to see that to know you have feelings for me.”

You tense. “What feelings?” you ask, and Suo stops. He pulls his fingers out of you—you breathe sharply at the loss—and manhandles you until you're straddling his lap. Forces you to look at him, into his one eye. It's knife-sharp, brutal, but familiar. You don't struggle, nor do you feel uneasy.

But you do feel like prey.

“Do you remember,” he begins, voice light, “how our master always talked about how important it is to engage with each other’s feelings?”

Fuck.

“No,” you blurt out, and Suo laughs.

“Of course not,” he plays along. “You were always so terrible at it. But I've been doing a bad job too, lately. So”—he reaches beneath your dress, hooks your thong with his fingers—“I wanted to have an honest conversation with you.”

He smiles at you. Actually looks kind and even sounds earnest. What a fucking sociopath. You allow him to slide your underwear down your legs, kicking them off. Now your pussy is completely bare to him, and you can hear the way his breath stops as he touches it again. Three of his fingers push in this time, and you pant openly at the stretch, leaning against him as your body trembles from the stretch. He flexes his fingers experimentally, watching your reactions—your whimpers, your sighs, the way your eyelashes flutter when he brushes that one spot inside you.

“I’ve always had feelings for you,” he starts, using that nonchalant, delicate tone—the specific one that suggests danger, “and I know you’re too smart to have missed that. I’d be fine with it if you didn't return them, but you do.”

“I don't,” you protest, and then his fingers curl and press into your g-spot. You're cut off immediately, gasping at the sudden wave of heat in your belly.

A hand comes up to your chin. He forces you to look at him. “I said I wanted to have an honest conversation, remember.”

“I–I am being honest, I—” Your voice breaks as he starts pumping his fingers. It's slow, gentle, but precise. Tension builds in you at an alarming rate, your thighs getting as slick and messy as his hand. You bury your face into the crook of his shoulder, breathe in his cologne and gasp into his skin, and your mind goes hazy from the euphoria of his touch. Sure, you've hugged Suo before, been held by him before, and god knows you've been touched like this by a ton of other people before—but it feels different now. It feels different when it's Suo who's touching you, different when you’re this close to him while he's drawing all this pleasure out of you. When one hand feels so good inside you and the other one is holding you so intimately.

“Suo,” you whimper, overwhelmed by hot tension in your belly, “I-I’m close, I’m close, oh fuck—

He stops.

Before you can comprehend what's happening, he’s withdrawing his fingers, and all the heat in you is melting away. Your orgasm lost, you come down from your high—nerves frayed, emotions taut.

“Suo,” you say, “what the fuck?”

He gives you a smile. It almost looks nice. “I'm not letting you cum until you tell me the truth.”

You’re going to cry.

You're so wet, so empty, so desperate, and now you feel oddly afraid. You don't like the way he's staring you down. You don't like this line of questioning, this bullshit of engaging with other people's feelings. You’ve never liked it. But you need—need—him to fuck you. You need his fingers inside you and you need to cry into his neck while you finish.

You say, very quietly, “Please, Suo.”

“Please, what?”

It's funny. You've performed begging and crying and submission for countless clients, sometimes during annoyingly rough sessions. You've done it for years. But nothing has ever felt so humiliating as this moment, when you ask your best friend, in the smallest voice possible, “Please touch me.”

“No. Not until you start being honest with me.”

Suo's mouth curls at the devastated look you give him. You hardly even notice that he's adjusting you, having you straddle his thigh again—this time, facing him. You don't register it until your cunt is pressed into the wet spot you left earlier and he's saying, “You can move if you'd like. But I'm not touching you.”

“You’re fucking horrible,” you say with all your heart, but your pussy is throbbing and you're desperate for release. So you finally do what you were desperately trying to stop yourself from doing the whole night—you start grinding on him. Like a fucking animal in heat. It's embarrassing, especially because his leg feels so good against you. The friction on your pussy makes you pant, your eyes squeezing shut as your clit finally gets some pressure. It makes up for the way he’s looking at you, which is sly, handsome, and rage-inducing all at once.

“You really do need to be touched,” he remarks softly. “You said your customers satisfied you. Was that true? Did they properly fuck you?”

“N-no,” you gasp. Your mind feels so cottony now that you're getting some relief. You can barely think, and definitely not enough to lie. “It was—it was—fuck, I never came.”

He hums, satisfied. “There—see? Telling the truth isn't so hard. You can do it again.”

He sounds so condescending. You would ordinarily hate it, but for some reason, it's going straight to your pussy right now, making you drip so much you know you've ruined his pants. You’re getting close, too, just by rubbing yourself on his leg. It doesn't feel quite as good as when his fingers were in you, but it’s something. And it’s making it hard to focus on what he's saying.

“It’s fine if you can't be honest about your feelings,” Suo continues. “Let's assume you're telling the truth, and all you want to do is fuck me. Why haven't you?”

You try to answer him, but you can't. You're too focused on the roll of your hips against his leg. There's too much tension, too much heat. You melt against him again, breathing heavily into his shoulder as you tighten around nothing. His hands come to your waist, as if grounding you, and somehow this makes everything feel even better. You start panting, babbling, I'm close, I'm getting close, Suo, Suo—

His grip tightens, and he stops you in place. You cry in frustration—no tears, but the noise you make is broken.

“Answer my question,” he says. You feel a hand glide along your bare skin, stopping at your inner thigh. “Answer me and I'll touch you.”

“Okay,” you say, as desperate as you are distressed. “Okay, I'll do anything. Anything.”

“Good.” He sounds so pleased.

You put your arms around his neck, for no reason other than you want to. Lifting your hips, you part your legs for him, and you feel so relieved at just the touch of his hand that you sigh—even though all he's doing is running a finger along your slick folds.

You shudder as his fingers play with your sex. Lean your head on his shoulder as he starts to move. You’re so desperate that you start grinding against his hand, whining for him.

“Well, then,” he murmurs. “Tell me why you didn't come to me. This is all you wanted, isn't it?” He rolls your clit between two fingers, making you squirm. “Just to get off, right? I could have done that. You'd have enjoyed it more.”

“It”—your eyelids flutter shut—“it would have been too complicated. Y-you’re my boss, and I pay rent to y-you, and we’ve been friends for so long, I didn't want to make it weird—”

Suo delivers a sharp slap to your pussy.

The contact is so sudden that you yelp. It only stings a little, but it makes your clit ache. The noise it makes is so wet, so filthy, telling of your desperation. And to your shame—even though you have never once in your life enjoyed being handled roughly by your customers—your cunt starts leaking in response.

You whimper, about to burst from frustration. You need to be touched so bad. You need to be touched by him so bad, and you need to cum on his cock or else you'll lose your fucking mind.

“Suo,” you complain, or beg, and you don't even realise that you're tearing up until he swipes his thumb under your eye.

“Try again,” he says gently, but not kindly. “The truth this time, and then I'll make you cum. Why didn't you come to me first? These past few months, or any other time?”

You don't answer him. “Suo, please—” And he moves back so that you're no longer leaning against him. Your lip trembles at the loss of the warmth, which somehow feels worse than the loss of your orgasm. An actual tear rolls down your cheek, and he doesn't wipe this one away.

“Answer me,” he says firmly. Instead of replying, you try to reach for him—wanting to be pressed against his body again, wanting him to draw pleasure out of yours again—but he stills you with his hands.

You feel devastated.

Out of horny, emotional desperation, and an all-consuming need to be fucked, you admit, “I was just scared!”

This is the worst mistake you've ever made.

The minute the words dislodge from your throat, you feel yourself choke up. You don't know why. All you know is that you suddenly can't hold back your tears from your sexual frustration, which for some reason is starting to feel distinctly like a non-sexual kind of angst, which is also strangely painful for your chest.

Because now that you've said it out loud, you can't ignore it.

You want to hide. You want to crawl out of his lap and run out of the establishment. Surely, the mamasan will forgive you for leaving a shift with such a frightening and horrible man, who is currently trying to extort your feelings out of you. But Suo’s grip is solid and unforgiving on you, and all you can do is squirm.

“Scared of what?” Suo asks. His voice has gone soft. Actually soft—not in a way that suggests danger, but a way that suggests you're loved. It makes you tremble.

His arms circle you, and one rubs at your back. It makes you relax very slightly. Or at the very least, it makes you stop wanting to bolt.

“What were you scared of?” he prompts again.

A feeling of defeat washes over you. Suo will figure you out sooner or later. He always does. So you tell him, very quietly, “I was scared that—that you'd leave me.”

You realise that you just stuttered. You stuttered because you're crying. You're actually, genuinely crying. Not from sexual frustration, but because you're just frustrated in general. And miserable. You've been chronically miserable for most of your life, and that misery has had nowhere to go until now.

You press your face into Suo’s shoulder, and he lets you. You breathe deeply in an attempt to stop crying, his cologne washing over you. It's nice, but what feels most comforting is just the scent of him. You're used to it from the days before he'd ever thought about using a fragrance, let alone a fragrance that would bankrupt the average person. It's calming, even when overlayed with ambergris and vanilla. Familiar.

Your breathing evens out a little—but only a little.

“Why would I leave you?” His voice is so kind, patient. More tears bead on your lashes.

“Because you might not want me anymore.” You sound so fragile. Shit, you are fragile. You can't stop the splintering feeling in you, the same one that ate at you two months ago when you thought he was going to leave you. “You could get tired of me or resent me or get bored with me. You could—you could want to throw me away, for no reason. Or—” You breathe in sharply, clinging to him harder.

“Or?”

“Or you could die—you joined the yakuza, so you could die. Why did you do that?” An actual sob leaves you. His shirt is getting wet. You ruined so many of his silk changshan like this in the past, when your boyfriend cheated on you and when your parents kicked you out and when you slept with your fifth customer.

And when your master died.

“I'm still so fucking mad at you for it,” you bite out around your tears. “If you got fucking killed—oh my god, I can't even think about it. I can't—I couldn't take it if—if I kissed you, and we had sex, and then I didn't have you anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re the only thing I have.” You squeeze your eyes shut, a terrible realisation hitting you. “And…”

“And?”

“And,” you say, voice breaking, “I think because I love you?”

You know it as soon as you voice it. You do love him. Not just platonically, but in the way where you want to hold his hand and kiss him and marry him. In the way a miserable nineteen year old girl is so in love with her miserable best friend that she refuses to leave him despite how terrifying he’s becoming. You loved him in this way before you realised you wanted to have sex with him, and even after that, you loved him so much that it didn't matter that he wasn't having sex with you.

You love him so much it disgusts you.

You want to hide, but Suo forces you to look at him. He brushes away your tears, cups your face. The Pavlovian response takes over: your heart rate slows, and you calm down.

“There,” he says gently. “That wasn't so bad, was it?”

He’s wrong. You bet he knows he's wrong. That was objectively one of the worst experiences of your life. You feel wrung out, tenderised. You never thought you'd say any of that. You're not sure you knew most of that.

But in Suo’s arms, plied open with his words and his hands, you actually find yourself shaking your head. You lean into the touch of his palm.

“I love you,” he continues, his tone so authoritative and calm that it leaves no room for doubt, “probably to the point that it should scare you. Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” you say quietly.

“And we won't be separated. I won't allow anything to take you away from me. Do you understand that too?”

You make a noise, halfway between a relieved sigh and another sob. This declaration should not be a surprise from a man who’s effectively locked you up in his house. Still—your heart feels so light when you hear someone say, for the first time in your life, that they’ll stay with you no matter what. It's like Suo has just unearthed a weight that you didn't know you'd been carrying.

“I’ll try,” you reply, voice small.

“Good.” He strokes your cheek. “Do you want to keep going?”

It’s absurd. You just cried and confessed something terrifying. With anyone else, this would be an experience so horrifying that you'd leave right now and never come back. Your sexual desire should not just be gone, but permanently erased. At the very least, you shouldn't feel the slightest bit horny.

But somehow, being gutted by Suo hasn't left you feeling bad. It's left you feeling lighter. Kind of like you've been purged. You feel exhausted, but in a malleable way. Dazed and relieved to be in his lap. Your thighs are still embarrassingly sticky, heart still embarrassingly wobbly, and you just heard him say that he loves you.

Now you want to hear him say it while he's cumming inside you.

“Yeah,” you admit immediately, pathetically. You sniffle.

“You're sure?” Another stroke. “I want to hear you say it clearly. What do you want to do?”

Your dignity is gone. “I want you to fuck me.”

He smiles. A fond hum leaves him. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and you feel a flutter in your belly. “I'll take care of you now.”

He kisses you this time, before he touches you. On the neck, on your jaw. You bare your nape to him, shivering at the feeling of his lips on your jugular, at his nipping teeth on your skin. You realise he's leaving marks, and with each one, you shudder. It feels so intimate. You're on a rooftop bar, in a skanky hostessing dress, crying and strung out—but this is the closest thing you've ever gotten to one of your fantasies about him. Not the nasty ones that you think about when you're home by yourself, but the ones you think of when you're in bed with various salarymen. The ones where you get to lie with him in bed and press your lips to his.

“Suo,” you start.

“Hayato,” he corrects you. “You're my fiancée now, remember? We should be on a first name basis.”

Your stomach flips. “Hayato,” you try again, breathless. “Please.”

He takes a moment to reply, busy sucking another mark into your skin. “Please, what?”

You hesitate. Suo pulls back, looking at you. You whine, feeling shy all of a sudden. You flirt for a living and yet you feel embarrassed about your request. It's humiliating.

“Please, what?” he repeats. His mouth is curled in a smile, and you can't tell whether it's endeared or entertained. “Please let you cum? Please fuck you?”

“Please kiss me,” you say, in a small voice.

Suo pauses.

“What?”

“Please kiss me,” you beg. Close to tears again, for some reason you don't know. You think it surprises him as much as it does you.

It takes him a moment to recover, but when he does, he gives you a look that’s fucking ravenous.

His thumbs away the wetness from your eyes. “You're so cute sometimes. Did you know that?”

You flush. Plenty of customers have called you cute, but none have had you feeling so indignant nor shy.

“I’m not,” you reply, ��and stop that.”

“But it's true. And I want you to know it.”

Suo presses his mouth to yours before you can respond. You're so eager for him that you part your lips immediately. Your instinct is to make your first kiss with him messy and desperate, but he’s in full control, and he’s taking his time. His tongue is careful and precise. Full of intention. His lips are slow, languid, and lazy, like he's savouring the taste of you. A hand plays with the strap of your dress. You feel him slide it off your shoulder—the other one quickly follows—but you’re so absorbed in his kiss, you hardly pay attention.

You're vaguely aware of the breeze against your bare chest. One of his hands moving up, feeling out your curves. He hums into your mouth when his fingers ghost over your nipples, and they harden under his touch.

“Suo,” you whine as he teases them, and he pinches one of them, watching as you squirm.

“Hayato,” he corrects you promptly, and you give him a worn, teary look.

“Hayato.”

“Yes?”

“I need more,” you say quietly.

He smiles, clearly enjoying your desperation. “Be patient,” he teases you. “I’m getting there.”

He kisses a line along your jaw, down your neck. Traces your collarbone with the path of his mouth, works his way down to your breasts. At the same time you feel the heat of his tongue on your nipple, his hand reaches between your legs. You're so wet already that he doesn't need to work you open again—just sinks his fingers inside you until you're sighing for him.

You discover that when he's not antagonising you, Suo is frighteningly efficient with pleasuring you. He learns quickly how you like your tits played with, and how to fuck you so well with his fingers until you're gushing around them and keening. He said he'd take care of you, but you think he's mostly forcing all this pleasure from your body for his own enjoyment. There's no other explanation for how he keeps bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, swallowing each of your whines and complaints with his mouth. The only time he isn't kissing you is when you're begging—and you don't miss the way his breathing deepens every time you do.

But no matter how much you beg, he isn’t letting you cum.

“Look at the mess you're making,” he murmurs as he plays with your cunt. You're sitting between his legs again, your back against his chest. You can feel the length of his cock against your ass, and you hear how his breath hitches every time you squirm against it. Except for that one tell, he sounds completely unaffected by what he's doing—forced you to open your legs wide for him, spread your glistening folds to tease you. The leather beneath your ass is wet, ruined by your need.

“Hayato,” you whine.

“Just a little longer,” he promises, “and then I'll let you cum.”

Your mind is so fogged with pleasure at this point that you can't focus on anything other than Suo’s touch. You’ve actually forgotten where you are—not a truly private space, but part of a club. The girls would normally only come up if you put in an order, but you haven't for a while now.

Long enough for someone to check on you without warning.

You tense as soon as you hear the door open. You recognize the server—she knows you well, by face, stage name, and real name. Your eyes go wide as she calls for you. You try to sit up, close your legs, but Suo grabs one of your thighs and forces it open.

“Suo, wait—”

You whimper, incapable of words when his fingers push into you again. He starts fucking you with them, and in earnest this time—curling his fingers until they're pushing into your g-spot, doing it over and over and over. Your eyes roll back and you stop struggling, and Suo takes the opportunity to touch you with his other hand too, playing with your clit. A strangled moan leaves you as the heat in your gut ratchets up. Pleasure swells in your belly; you feel like you're going to burst.

“Suo,” you cry, tears pricking your eyes, “wait, wait, my coworker—wait, I think—I think I'm gonna—”

“Go ahead,” he says into your ear, voice silky, and he pushes against your sweet spot in a way that gives you no choice but to obey him.

You cum so hard that you squirt all over the seat. Your whole body is wracked with intense pleasure—hips bucking violently, legs twitching, crying so loudly and shamelessly that your coworker naturally hears. She catches you spread wide open in Suo’s lap, his fingers deep in your messy, swollen cunt as you drench them.

Her tray clatters to the floor.

Fighting the mindless haze that your body is in, you glance at the other girl, whose hand is over her mouth. She looks appalled. She’s going to yell at you. But then you then watch, in real time, as her eyes travel to your customer’s face and she realises who he is. If she was red when she saw the two of you, she's now a pale white.

“Did you come to check on us?” Suo asks. He sounds amused. She flinches at his voice, and actually takes a step backward. “We’re fine for now. We’ll order something in a bit, and call you up here as usual.”

“O-okay,” she says, voice high and tense. “I—I’ll leave you two, then. Please—please enjoy yourself, sir. We'll be available in case you require any other services.” And she walks away briskly, almost in a run. She doesn't even bother to stop the expressly forbidden act that you're engaged in.

Once she’s gone, Suo allows you some dignity. He pulls his fingers out of you, lets you catch your breath.

“Oops,” he says. “It’s too bad they caught us. I suppose they won't want to keep you on as an employee, since you broke such an important rule.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed. Your emotional and sexual pliability quickly dissipates, replaced by disbelief.

“You—you did that on purpose,” you say between pants, too fucked out to be truly angry, but still appalled.

Suo raises a brow, gives you an innocent look. “Did I? I was just making you cum, like you've been begging all night. It was just unfortunate timing.” He then smiles, which makes him look incredibly kind despite the apparent sadism of his person. “But it's fine. They're going to fire you for this, but you know my club will always take you back.”

You close your eyes and groan. “You’re horrible.”

“I am, aren't I?” Suo puts his arms around you, kisses you on the shoulder, his voice getting low. “But this is a better arrangement, don't you think? You won't need to see customers this way. Every time you need relief, you can come upstairs and I'll give you my cock instead.” He grinds against you, letting you feel how hard he is, and you whimper. He laughs, probably entertained at how desperate you sound. “Or maybe I'll just make you take it whenever I feel like it. I think at the end of every shift makes sense, doesn't it? Since that's how often you've been touching yourself on the couch.”

“S-suo.”

“It’s Hayato now, remember. What is it, dear?”

He sounds so smug, mocking you. You should be furious. But in your fucked out state, all you can focus on is the idea of being forced to take Suo's cock every night. Despite already being ruined, your pussy starts throbbing again. You squirm and press your thighs together, trying to get it to stop—you’re so fucking tired—and you bleakly realise that you can't control your body’s reactions around him. You're getting wet again. It makes you want to cry.

“Hayato,” you whimper, on the verge of tears.

“Ah, you addressed me properly. Good.” He’s so satisfied. “What is it?”

“I…”

“You?”

“I”—your voice is so small and embarrassed, you can hardly believe it—“I want you to fuck me.”

He feigns shock, as if he wasn't actively provoking this. “Really? But you just came.” A hand prods between your legs. You obediently spread them for him, and he checks your pussy with two of his fingers. You moan a little at the intrusion, but there's no resistance at all.

Your cunt, still dripping, tightens around him, and he laughs softly.

“You really do need a cock in you. Who knew you had such a needy pussy.” He curls his fingers. Probably feeling the way it makes you gush, delighting in the gasp it draws out of you. “No wonder you have to use that toy every day.”

You're about to die of embarrassment. “Hayato. Please just fuck me.”

Suo turns you so that you can look at him. He’s wearing a kind, benevolent face when he says, “No.”

“...what?”

“I'm not going to give you my cock.” He hums, contemplative. “Not for a while, I think.”

“B-but,” you say, genuinely upset, “but you were just talking about doing that at work.”

“Sure—after we get married. It's only proper, don’t you think?”

“What?” Your eyes are wide in disbelief. “You—you just made me cum with your fingers. In a public space.”

“Yes. But that's different from letting you have my cock. It wouldn't be gentlemanly of me to do that before we’re wedded.” He can't keep the amusement out of his voice as he bullies you. “I'm sure you can wait until the summer, right? Since that's the season you chose for us. August, I think you told Nirei.”

“Hayato—”

“Actually,” he muses, easily sliding a third finger into you, making your voice clip off in a whimper, “I think you shouldn’t be allowed to have anything in you until then. Except for my fingers and tongue, of course. But no toys, and no other men either. That definitely wouldn't be proper.”

“I'm going to,” you say spitefully—and tearfully. “If you don't fuck me right now, I will sleep with other people.”

“I don't think you want to find out the consequences if you do.”

“How would you even—ngh—know?”

“Good question.” He starts pumping his fingers, and to your horror, your cunt needily swallows them with each motion, your body as desperate as he's been saying. “I guess I'll need to check your pussy every night. See if it's been stretched out by someone else’s cock. Maybe upstairs in the lounge at the end of each night, so I'll know that you haven't fucked a customer during a shift. Clearly, it's not impossible that you would.”

You try not to sob. Not only are his words utterly humiliating, they're making you wetter. After fucking so many people in so many ways, you didn't know it was possible for you to feel this much shame during sex—but then again, shaming people is one of Suo’s specialties.

You give him the teariest look possible, because by now you've figured out that he likes seeing you cry. Sadistic motherfucker. You're happy to use it to your advantage though.

He gets that hungry look in his eye again. “Please, Hayato,” you beg, voice trembling with need, “I want more. I thought I was your beautiful wife already.” You grind your ass against his cock, and he inhales sharply. “Don't you wanna cum in your wife’s pussy?”

Suo stops, deeply affected—just as you guessed he'd be. After making you his fake wife in both his criminal life and his civilian one, it's painfully obvious that the man is obsessed with marrying you. You'd make fun of him if you weren't so horny. Or humbled.

He only allows himself speechlessness for a second. He hums soon after, delicately wiping the tears out of your eyes. “You've been good enough that I guess I can reward you. I won't fuck you, but”—he shifts away, and you can hear his pants unzipping—“I’m sure you'll enjoy yourself anyway.”

Suo wasn't lying earlier. His cock is bigger than any toy you've ever used. It's pretty, too. Curved and long and flushed at the head. Glistening with prespend, which has pearled up at the tip. You think you might be salivating. For a minute, you contemplate asking if you can feel it in your throat, but then Suo’s lying down and moving you on top of him. When his cock nudges at your folds, you can’t help your excitement. You squirm, trying to sink onto his length.

His grip tightens on your waist, stopping you.

You’re about to whine at him about this, but he doesn't give you the chance. “If you try to ride me,” he says, in a voice so cold that you know he's not joking, “I'm not touching you until we’re married, and I'm not letting you touch yourself either.”

“...”

With anyone else you'd call bullshit, but you know that Suo is both crazy and petty enough to actually achieve this.

“Okay.” You sound and feel mollified. “I'll behave.”

He smiles. “Good,” he says cheerfully. “Just stay like that, then. I’ll take care of you.”

You listen to him, mostly because you're incredibly excited about getting pussy inspections and you'll be devastated if it doesn't happen. And you don't expect it to be a big deal, anyway. While your sex drive has been a constant source of grief for you throughout your life, you don't really have problems controlling any specific impulses in bed when you truly need to. You’re used to giving your customers whatever they want and, if you're lucky, getting off from it. You figure this will be the same.

You find out very quickly that it isn't.

You need to stay still. You can’t sink down on him. Two easy orders that are extraordinarily difficult when Suo is the one beneath you. You have to actively stop your hips from moving when you feel the silky head of his cock press into your folds, which are still dripping with your slick. Suo’s breath hitches when he runs the tip along your opening, drawing wet noises every time his cock head catches on your needy hole, smearing his precum all over it. All you want is to push back on him and let your pussy swallow his cock. You’re aching for it, and you know he is too. If you sank down on him now, he'd lose control and fuck you raw until he was cumming inside you. And then he'd probably keep going after that, not letting you move until you were stuffed full and dripping with his spend. Both of you know it.

But you don't do that. You're good for him. You sigh, just trying to enjoy the feeling of his length rubbing against you. How he's twitching and throbbing against you, how he wants as equally much to be inside you—but pulls back every time. Your mind goes a little fuzzy with the drawn out, low hum of pleasure, and you close your eyes.

Then he starts pushing into you.

“H-Hayato?” You whimper at the intrusion, at being made to take something so thick without warning. “I thought you weren't gonna—”

“I'm not,” he says. His breathing is heavier, his words strained, but his voice is still commanding when he says, “Don’t move.”

Suo doesn't give you the whole thing, just the tip. It is much harder to control yourself like this—when you can feel yourself getting stretched by the head of his cock, already so fat and heavy, but you don't get filled up by it. It makes you aware of how empty you are, and how wet you're getting. You bury your face into his neck and make a noise that's both tearful and pathetic.

It's not acting when you whine, in a watery, miserable way, “Please, Hayato. I need your cum in me.”

It's probably the crying that gets him. He inhales sharply, thrusting maybe a little deeper than intended. You groan at the extra inch of cock, eyes rolling back, and can't help the way your pussy tightens and drips, trying to suck him in.

“Fuck,” he says, and then he pulls out.

He lays you flat on your back. Before you can get so much as a word out, he's between your legs and pressing his cock against your entrance. For possibly the happiest moment of your life, you think Suo is going to fuck you—but instead he starts pushing the slick head of his cock right against your neglected clit.

You aren't going to complain.

You whimper as he starts rubbing against your sex, leaving his prespend all over your swollen bud. It makes you squirm, grinding yourself against it, and you press your legs together to get some more pressure for the both of you. Soon his cock is sliding between your thighs, getting them all sticky with his prespend. You can feel the length of him hot and slick against your folds, heavy and throbbing.

You've never cum like this before. It was never enough stimulation when your customers made you do this, which nearly all of them have. But the pressure on your clit and on your folds is shockingly intense as the two of you move, enough to make you whimper as a familiar tension builds. It's not as overwhelming as when his fingers were inside you, but it's enough for you to start panting at the tension in your belly. You can hear Suo’s breath picking up as you start to whine, and he watches you, almost predatorial, as another orgasm crashes over you. You moan his name as you cum, squeezing a few more tears out of your eyes.

He stares at your flustered, wet face as he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance again, fisting himself as it flutters and drips in the aftershock of your orgasm. Suo’s been hard for so long, for the whole time he's teased and bullied you—you aren't surprised at how close he already is. Especially not when you start talking about how much you need his cum in you, how empty your pussy feels without it, how badly you want your husband to fill you up. All with your mascara smeared and your lip trembling, a sight that makes him throb.

Suo groans as he finally cums. You can feel his cock twitching, warmth spurting out onto your folds, and then into your pussy as he thrusts shallowly into you. You pull him down needily as he fills you, and he indulges you with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.

When he pulls out, you can feel his cum drip out of you, all the way down to the couch. You make a happy noise at the mess he's made of your hole, giving him a lovestruck, dreamy expression.

“You should do that every night after you're done checking my pussy,” you sigh.

Suo’s mouth curls, and breathes out a kind of laugh. He holds your face, and one of his tassels brush against the shell of your ear as he presses his forehead to yours. “I’ll do it if you're good for me.”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour until our wedding night,” you promise, voice affectionate.

Suo gives you a fond look. His expression is so sentimental. You think he’s going to say something sweet.

“Alright,” he replies. “Then be good for me and keep the rest of that inside you, okay? Let’s not make a mess of these floors. I don't want to get blacklisted from this club.”

You open and close your mouth, completely speechless.

“You're fucking horrible,” you say with all your heart, and he laughs and kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you. He doesn't stop until you're placated and horny again.

Suo takes his sweet time pushing his cum into you as deeply as possible, saying that it's to make sure you don't lose any of it, but really so he can draw another orgasm out of you. Knowing that the mamasan might take pity on you and think that you were coerced into degrading sexual acts by a terrifying yakuza client, he makes sure to order a drink beforehand, calling up a server. (I don't want to be a bad patron, he hums as he looks at the tablet, and I said I'd get you to the number 1 ranking, right?) It subsequently looks, sounds, and is completely consensual when you're found pulling at Suo’s hair, keening as he fingers his cum into you while sucking on your clit.

This leaves you with no hope of continued employment on all of Keisei Street.

To add insult to injury, you do make a mess of the floors, despite Suo’s conscientious efforts to avoid this—though it's not as bad as the one you left on the couch. You also can't find your thong anywhere, which you guess is something else that the mamasan won’t appreciate when she finds it. Still, for the rest of the night, everyone shows Suo nothing but the utmost respect and highest quality customer service. They even ask how he found your company and if he has any feedback for you. He praises your conversational skills, karaoke abilities, and how capable you were in catering to his many needs. He also lets them know that you'll be resigning.

Hanzo and Shuuhei are waiting to pick you up, bringing the Rolls Royce with the privacy suite. This time, Suo doesn't use it to interrogate you; he instead uses it to kiss you and tease you and discuss wedding plans. If it'll be indoors or outdoors. If you'll have a big reception or a small one. If it'll be a traditional wedding, or if you’ll want a Chinese one like the one your master would have maybe liked to see. You settle on having a Shinto ceremony and a Chinese-style reception. Having been raised Chinese, whenever Suo imagined marrying during his teenage years, you were always in a red qipao. His master even once told him that if he managed to win your heart, he'd organise a tea ceremony and act in the role of Suo’s father.

After disclosing these facts (the first of which makes your heart weak, and the second of which leaves it aching), he asks about any long-standing things you've always wanted to do with him as a couple. If you had any silly or indulgent daydreams about your future with him, and what they were like.

“I don't know,” you admit. “I guess after you applied to teacher’s college, I liked the idea of marrying you, and doing all the domestic things you talked about. Though you were just joking at the time.”

You don't really expect him to remember much about this particular line of teasing. Sure, the man is currently obsessed with marrying you, and maybe he daydreamed about it a little bit when he was younger—but he mostly treated the idea as a funny joke when he was a teenager. All of the teasing has probably blurred together for him over the years. Certainly, it has for you.

But you've never been able to forget this particular memory. It’s one of those small, inconsequential moments that you find yourself incapable of letting go to this day. You loved hearing him talk about getting married, even though it hurt immensely that it was probably just teasing. You loved it because you wanted it. You wanted Suo to teach people because you knew he was good at it and it would make him genuinely happy. You wanted to stop working in the red light district and make a nice and safe home for Suo, just as he'd made a nice and safe home for you. And you wanted to marry him and kiss him and have sex with him and only him for the rest of your life.

You wanted it so badly, it still makes you heart ache to think about it.

He was definitely just teasing you, though. Suo was a sane person at the time, and sane people do not actually plan a marriage and life with someone before dating them or even fucking them. Most importantly, a sane person wouldn't hold onto such a silly joke for so long. Oh, you expect him to say, laughing. You're right, I had nearly forgotten.

But all he does is give you a smile. It's one of his strange, enigmatic ones.

“No, I was quite serious about it,” Suo says, looking right at you.

You stare at him.

“Really?”

“Really.”

He's being so straightforward, so earnest. Your typical reaction would be to feel flustered, sentimental—but something about his expression and tone bothers you. But before you can suss out what it is, he continues, and the moment passes.

“Was there anything else you ever wanted to do?” he asks smoothly.

You're startled, off-guard. “Oh, um… not really. I never let myself think too much about it.”

“Come on,” he prods. “There must be something.”

“No, I really didn't think of any ideas on my own. Although…”

Your face gets hot as you trail off. Suo senses weakness, and goes in for the kill.

“Although?”

“It's too embarrassing,” you admit, looking away, and Suo looks a little too interested as he pesters you for an answer.

“Come on, it's fine.” His mouth curls in a way that tells you it's not fine. “I promise I won't judge you. I just want to know what I can do to make you happy as your husband.”

You give him an uncertain look, and say your only concrete fantasy about him so quickly and quietly that he misses it.

“Pardon?” he asks.

“...romantic, vanilla sex.”

Suo blinks. “What?”

Your face burns with humiliation.

“I used to think about having romantic, vanilla sex with you. When I was a teenager. A lot.” Said as if you weren't just thinking about it two months ago in a love hotel, and still don't want it now. You wouldn't even bring it up if you didn't think it was necessary. But unfortunately, you're professionally skilled at perceiving people’s sexual interests, and you've perceived that Suo is sexually a freak. He was definitely going easy on you tonight, and is probably actively planning to get worse. You'll never have normal sex with him unless you explicitly state a desire for it.

Suo gives you a surprised look. “That's… a very mundane fantasy.”

“It wouldn't have been mundane to me,” you reply, somewhat defensively. “I used to think about it when I slept with my customers, who weren't very romantic. Or vanilla. So I didn’t really have a good reference point or anything for that kind of sex, but sometimes I still thought about doing it with you after they had left.”

You look away after saying this, wondering why you disclosed all of that. It certainly wasn't necessary for your dream of someday taking Suo’s cock without being psychosexually tortured first. Now you feel like you need to hide. You even think about excuses for stopping the car, and ponder again how difficult it would be to live without proof of identity, if you chose to run away.

But Suo doesn't let you run. He pulls you close to him, wrapping you up in his warmth.

“It's okay,” he says gently, in a voice that reminds you of how he was in his old Furin days. “You'll be okay. I'll make sure of it.” It confuses you deeply, and you turn to ask him what the fuck he's going on about.

You don't even realise you're crying until he starts kissing away your tears.

You can’t understand why you’re weeping. Maybe something strange and hormonal happened while you were having sex, like Suo made you orgasm too hard and all the oxytocin is making you depressed now. Though you think that hormone is supposed to make you happy. You're not sure. You never finished school, so you wouldn't know.

Whatever the reason, you hastily wipe away your tears. A hand rubs at your back, and you let yourself press your face into his shoulder.

“Sorry,” you say quickly.

“Don't apologise. You don't have anything to be sorry for.”

You hesitate as you breathe against the silk threads of his shirt, thinking about how many of his shirts you've ruined with your tears. At least three changshan and one Versace summer piece, by your count. It’s not like he hurts over the money these days, but guilt tugs at your heart.

“I don't know about that,” you mumble into his shoulder. And it takes a while to work yourself up to saying it, but eventually you whisper, with full honesty, “I'm sorry for always worrying you.”

“I know,” Suo says. He sounds sincere when he says, “I’m sorry too.”

“I’ll try to be better from now on.”

“You will be. And even if you aren’t, that's fine.”

For some reason, that makes your heart squeeze.

You melt against Suo after that, listening to the steady roll of tires and passing traffic outside. There's a gentle pitter patter of rain against the car roof, tinny and rhythmic, that gradually crescendos into a proper storm. The windshield wipers squeak against the glass. All of the noise is lulling you into a kind of peace, or maybe you're just feeling that way because Suo is holding you.

Fatigue wears your consciousness, and you close your eyes. The hustle and bustle of the red light district grows distant, faint—partly from slipping in and out of your dreams, and partly from the quieting world outside. It's now completely silent other than the heavy rainfall. You think they must be taking the road through Makochi. Suo asks for it whenever he wants you to sleep well.

He probably thinks you're asleep when he says, “I’m sorry for being how I am now.”

You almost stop breathing. Almost.

“You didn't fall in love with me when I was like this, so you must not like it very much,” he continues. “I know that Master wouldn't like me much either, if he were alive. He always said that you should support your loved ones until they can stand on their own two feet. But lately, I feel like all I've been doing is breaking yours.”

He sighs. The sky groans with distant thunder.

“Sakura knows who I really am, you know,” he says quietly. “I think he's worried about what'll happen to you if we get married. Though he’s been worried about you for a while.” Suo almost sounds endeared when he adds, “Did you know he only texts me now to ask if you're okay? He really does love you.”

He’s more sombre when he continues, “But Nirei is just afraid of me. That’s why he’s never around. He’s going to call you in a week and tell you not to go through with the wedding. He’ll probably tell you to leave me too. It’s good advice.”

It's hard to keep your breathing slow, with how badly your heart hurts.

“I’ve tried to go back to how I was, to the kind of person that Master was trying to raise,” Suo confesses. “But I don't think I can get better.”

But even if you can't, you want to tell him, that’s fine. You wish you could hold him how he's always held you.

“It doesn't usually upset me nowadays,” he admits after some time, “how I am now. But to be honest, talking about our school days did make me feel bitter, because I can't give you the things I know you wanted.”

He kisses the top of your head. Gently, so as not to wake you from your dream.

“I'm sorry I never became a teacher. I'm sorry I joined the yakuza. I'm sorry I can't give you a normal life. And I'm sorry I can’t have an honest conversation with you.”

Silence. You feel his chest stop briefly, his breathing deepen.

“Maybe someday, I'll get better enough to say these things to you while you're awake. Maybe someday, I'll even get better enough to let you leave. It would be best for you.”

His voice gets even softer. Tender.

“But for now, I don't know how to let you go.”

You feel a hand shifting away, the soft noise of leather against skin. Then both arms around you again, even warmer, even tighter. He’s leaning his head against yours. You think Suo is falling asleep.

Allowing yourself a single, quick glance at the car, you peer at your reflections in the rearview mirror. You see sheets of rain sliding against the back window, his dark lashes pressed to his skin, and all the scar tissue he likes to keep hidden away.

And you can see, very clearly, tears beneath his missing eye.

END 'TOKYO VICE'

hi everyone thanks for reading this chapter!!!! i hope it didn't disappoint after all the shitposting i did about it this week lol

can i just say. this was straight up the weirdest sex scene I've ever written HASLKFJSDF and the mood whiplash throughout this was probably the craziest i've ever written within a single piece. unfortunately, this reader copes with her trauma via humour and sex and it really shows rip. i hope it wasn't too offputting!

thank you to everyone who left a comment on part 1!! please do let me know if you enjoyed part 2 as well. <333

tagging @kweenkatsuki-fics and @stuckindreamland06!

#srb #<3333

762 notes · View notes

hannibals-favourite-meal · 3 years ago

Text

Dilemma of Love

Leonard McCoy x Kirk!reader

Others Masterlist | Main Masterlist

A sweet new engineer captures the affections of the Enterprise’s CMO but she’s holding onto a big secret, the Captain is her big brother and he doesn’t want her dating anyone.

Warnings: suggestive content, implied smut, mentions of an abusive relationship and miscarriage, protective!Kirk, age-gap, fluff, angst, established relationship, swearing, no use of Y/N

Minors DNI

WC: 1.5k

Leonard H. “Bones” McCoy MD, is one of the most well respected doctors in the galaxy and the current CMO of the USS Enterprise but right now, as his tongue is down the throat of a young and bubbly engineer in his office, he feels like a teenager again. She moaned as he bit down on her neck, leaving a nice clean imprint of his teeth on her throat. Her hands were tangled in his hair, keeping him as close as possible to her body.

“Oh Leo, keep doing that please.” That was what he lived for, the sound of her voice completely destroyed even before he worked his magic hands down her body and to her cunt.

“Anything you want darlin’.” He smirked, going back to work on her neck, her hips bucking onto his thigh, desperate for friction.

“Bones, I need you to- What the fuck is going on here?!!?” The sound of their captain’s voice broke the pair apart and they scrambled off each other. The girl attempted to straighten out her hair while Bones was desperate trying to cover his very obvious erection.

“Jim, how many times have I told you that you can’t come in here without knocking!”

“Really Bones, when I say that you need to get laid, I didn’t mean with my sister!” Jim threw his arms in the air, as if to prove a point.

“Your sister?” Bones looked down at the shorter girl who was now doing everything possible to avoid eye contact.

“Yes my little sister! You know the light of my life, my pride and joy!”

See Leonard was under the impression that the girl he was playing tonsil hockey with was just a random engineer who he was quickly falling in love with and not his best friend (and commanding officer’s) darling little sister who he never shuts up about. They had first met when he called down to engineering to get someone to fix a malfunctioning biobed, he expected Scotty to come up but instead was met with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She struck him speechless as she worked on the bed, making stupid puns and giggling every time he stuttered. Before she left, she had asked him on a date, smiling widely when he blushed and agreed to meet her that night.

He had never felt so happy with someone before, never thought he deserved someone so kind, someone who made him feel worth a damn. They worshiped each other, taking every available opportunity to rip their clothes off. Talking about everything under the sun in those moments after, their hearts still racing, sweaty chest to sweaty chest. She mentioned that she had an older brother that she really looked up to but never who he was. Bones made sure to note that when they were on shore leave next, to ask his permission to marry her. They had a wonderful two years together, just them against the galaxy. Now it seems that the Kirks are going to put him in an early grave.

Jim’s face was flushed with anger. “Well have you got an explanation for this!” Bones was about to open his mouth to give some kind of Sassy Remark ™️ back when a small voice piped up from behind him.

“I love him, Jamie.” Both men were shocked at her admission, Jim because his little sister had just admitted that she was in love with his best friend and McCoy because she had just called her brother Jamie.

“Jamie?” “Love?” They both said at the same time.

“Break up with her.” Jim said after a beat of silence.

“No.”

“Break it off or I’m removing you from the ship.”

“You can’t fire me.”

“Yes I can, I'm the captain.”

“I don’t give a shit.” They kept arguing back and forth, bringing the girl closer and closer to tears.

“I don’t think this is appropriate behaviour from either of you, can’t you see how upset you’re making the young woman.” Spock appeared out of nowhere, grabbing her shoulders and bringing her body towards him.

“Are you fucking my sister too?” The Captain snapped and that was the last straw for his sister.

“Why are you such an asshole! I found someone who loves me for me! Who doesn’t want me to change who I am! This isn’t like David!” She turned, tears streaming down her face and ran out of sickbay.

“Talk this out, I cannot see that either of you are fit for duty while emotionally unstable. On a side note, as both of your friends, you both love this girl very much and want what’s best for her, it is a fact that since she has commenced her relationship with Dr McCoy, both of their morals and work ethic has improved as well as work performance. If you were to separate them, I predict there would be a sharp decline in their work and mental state.” Spock turned and left the two of them, making sure the door shut behind him.

Jim slumped against the desk, rubbing his hand down his face.

“I really do love her Jim, this isn’t some random hookup, I fully intend on marrying that girl.”

“I know you’re a good guy Leonard, I just don’t like the thought of her seeing someone, especially someone in secret. When I first joined Star Fleet, she had been seeing this guy, David. I approved of him. He took care of her, he seemed like the perfect guy but he was beating her, really badly too. Mom called me a couple months after I left saying that she was beaten almost to death. She had gotten pregnant and he didn’t want the baby.” Bones’ face hardened, he knew that she had frequent nightmares, he often woke her up from them and comforted her but she never told him about what she experienced.

“The next time I saw her, she was so broken, it fucking destroyed me. This girl who was always smiling and happy was now withdrawn and silent. There wasn’t anything we could do to bring her back so I took her with me to the academy. Pike helped pay to put her through after he saw how brilliant of an engineer she was. Then when she graduated and was put on the Enterprise, she got her smile back. We kept our relationship a secret, she thought it was best, she didn’t want any special treatment for being the Captain’s little sister.”

“She’s a wonderful woman, I don’t know why she chose me but I want to spend the rest of my days worshiping her like she deserves. I would do anything for her, including staying on this god-forsaken ship.” Jim smiled softly, standing up.

“All I ask is that you take care of her. I’m sorry I reacted like that, I’m just so scared of losing her again.” He clapped Bones’ shoulder and began to walk out of the room but not before turning back and glancing at him briefly.

“You know, if you do marry her, I’ll be your brother-in-law and you’ll never be able to get rid of me.”

“Goddamnit Jim.” Leo bellowed as the younger man sprinted from the room.

A knock interrupted the girl’s sobs. She wiped her nose and opened the door to her quarters.

“Jamie, I’m not breaking up with him.” Kirk chuckled.

“I know, I just wanted to tell you that I love you so much and that I’m glad you’re finally happy, even if it’s with an old grump like Bones.” She gave a watery chuckle, more tears brimming on her lashes before grabbing her brother and pulling him into a firm hug.

“I love you so much Jamie.” He cupped her jaw, giving her forehead a kiss.

“Just promise me that anytime you need me, come get me ok, I’ll drop everything for you gremlin.”

“I promise.”She kissed his cheek and sent him off, closing the door behind him. Another knock sounded as soon as she did so. She rolled her eyes and opened the door again.

“When did Spock learn that you were dating?”

“He caught us going at it in Engineering once.” She answered and swiftly shut the door again.

“What?!”

“Hey Darlin’.” Leonard stroked her cheek softly as she slept on the couch in his quarters. Her eyes fluttered open slightly.

“Hi Leo.” He leant down and kissed her cheek.

“How are ya feeling peach?” The pet name made her cheeks heat up, as it always did.

“Jamie said he was sorry and that he approves of you even if you’re ‘an old grump’.” She giggled, Leonard’s face going dark.

“He’s a menace,” He pulled her legs up, sat on the couch and let them drop across his thighs, “He told me what happened to you Darlin’. M sorry that happened. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to but I’ll be here if you’re ready.” She sat up and kissed his lips gently.

“I love you Leo, so much. You’re my everything.”

“I love you more sweet girl, my guiding star.” He kissed her again and they settled in for a quiet night of holding tightly to each other. A small box sat at the back of Leo’s sock drawer, just waiting to be used and he knew that without a doubt, it would be soon.

Taglist

@im-a-slut-for-fluff

#bones x reader #bones x you #leonard mccoy x reader #leonard mccoy x you #jim kirk x reader #jim kirk x sister!reader #platonic spock x reader #female reader #angst #fluff #star trek imagine #star trek aos #dilemma of love

381 notes · View notes

detective-inspector-her · 2 months ago

Text

Reading this over, I've changed my opinion slightly. I still think Valkyrie is worse right now, but I'm just going to put this out there. She's thirty-two currently I think currently. And the only break she got since 12 was after she nearly destroyed the world (we'll get there) and she isolated herself for five years. And it was hardly a break because she was miserable.

But moving on!

Still, the first book: The next off-the-wall traumatic thing to happen came a few days later because she was meeting someone with Skulduggery and it was a tame second day on the job. But she hasn't really processed anything other than the fact that 'oh wait, my uncle was probably murdered'.

So Skulduggery takes this 12-year-old child with no magical or physical training to The Vault, which is guarded by Vampires. And not ones like Twilight and other stuff. The in-book descriptions get bad.

When night comes they rip off their skin and turn into vicious killer beasts that seek out blood at any costs. Before becoming a vampire one will be an Infected, a creature that follows the orders of the vampire that bit it. After two nights, the Infected will transform into a true vampire.

They get seen by the two vampires and get split up, both being chased individually. The only way Valkyrie escapes is because she jumps off a roof and hits a bunch of branches on a tree. And Skulduggery asks if she's okay but doesn't offer much more sympathy if I'm honest. He's not in the right head space.

They go back to the mansion, where there's a cave system full of monsters and stuff. Nefarian Serpine (the guy who sent Vindick and killed Valkyrie's uncle) attacks them and kidnaps Skulduggery. He then sends one of his 'henchmen' to kill Valkyrie and she pushes it out the window.

It gets worse from here and explaining everything will get really convoluted so I'm just going to speedrun book 1 real quick.

Gets her Given Name used against her and so is forced to stay in one play. And it keeps you conscious, you know you need to be somewhere else, but you can't disobey the order unless you have a Taken Name (Valkyrie Cain, Skulduggery Pleasant etc)

Heads into a guarded castle to save Skulduggery, who admits he was tortured horribly. She is there when two of their rescue teammates are sent to their deaths and as they're escaping she sees one of the bodies.

Skulduggery tells her about how Nefarian Serpine killed him and before that, killed his wife and child in front of him. Again, Skulduggery, sir, that's a child.

There's this guy Mr Bliss and he's stupidly intimidating. He double-crosses them and pushes Skulduggery off a cliff before taking the key to the caves from Valkyrie. Again, referred to as the strongest man alive, she was probably terrified.

They go into the caves, get chased by monsters and then Valkyrie gets captured by this vine/tentacle monster and pulled away from Skulduggery. She manages to kill it but its description disturbed me when I first read the book, and I was just about younger than her.

She attempts to stop Serpine without training while he's holding a weapon that can turn things to dust with a thought, and then they're chased out of the cave by Serpine and only escape because the woman who used Valkyrie's Given Name against her was waiting for the victor to leave the house.

She's targeted by one of the dead Cleavers (the rescue teammate) who was brought back to life by Serpine. He nearly kills the entire team and she watches one of Skuduggery's friends turn to stone.

They later go back to their base (The Sanctuary) to find that Serpine has killed everyone.

Quick Note: Serpine's magic is called the Red Right Hand. When he points it at someone they suffer agonising death. And Serpine, just before he dies (in front of her no less) points it at her and Derek Landy draws it out, describing her feelings as everything starts to fade away.

And this doesn't truly get addressed. Like ever.

Anyways, that's the gist of the first book when it comes to Valkyrie's trauma.

66 notes · View notes

ravennm84 · 4 years ago

Text

Of Moldy Bread and Cockroaches

I’ve seen a few fics where Lila reports the bakery to the health department and then plants bad pastries and pests just as the inspector arrives and gets the bakery shut down. I started wondering, what would happen if she got caught doing that? Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!

Lila kept watch as she waited for the health inspector to finally arrive. She had made multiple fake reports about the bakery over the past week to get someone to come out, but no one had come yet. And she had found the perfect spot to make sure she saw the man arrive, too! She was in disguise in the park, on a bench that had a clear view of the bakery entrance, the side entrance that went to the Dupain-Cheng home, and still let her stay hidden. She didn’t have to worry about school at the moment since her stupid class and teacher thought she was visiting the royal family in Spain, and her gullible mother thought school was out for another akuma attack. Both of which gave her an alibi so no one would suspect her when Maribrat and her goody-goody parents were humiliated and lose everything.

She was almost too distracted by her daydream of Marinette crying and homeless to see a very professional looking man step out of a taxi in front of the bakery. He looked at the display with a very critical eye before writing some things down on his tablet. That had to be the health inspector she had been waiting for. Once she saw him entering the front, Lila hot footed it to the side entrance to sneak in.

The door was locked, but she had come prepared with a lockpick set she had gotten a couple years ago. It was really too easy to get inside. In fact, it had been much harder to get the fake evidence she would need to shut the place down. She discovered while going through the dumpster for old pastries that the bakery didn’t throw away much of anything. They sold out most of the time, and the things that didn’t were donated to a local homeless shelter. It took three days of dumpster diving to find anything, which ended up being a single batch of croissants that had burned in the oven. Heck, collecting some cockroaches from a restaurant dumpster down the street had been easier; albet, a lot more disgusting.

Once inside, Lila crept towards the door as she heard Mme. Cheng speaking to the man. He was, in fact, the health inspector. A malicious grin stretched across her face as she put the first moldy croissant on the counter next to the-

“What are you doing here?” A deep voice growled behind her.

Lila froze for a moment, suddenly realizing that she had heard Mme. Cheng speaking with the inspector, but not M. Dupain. She couldn’t let herself get caught! She was facing away from him and he hadn’t seen her face yet, so there was still a chance. Grabbing the first thing she could, she didn’t even look to see what it was, she swung it around at the towering man before trying to run past him.

Despite hearing him curse in pain, Lila didn’t make it two steps before the man grabbed her by the collar of her jacket and lifted her off of the ground. She swung her object at him again, only for the enraged man to grab her wrist and twist, forcing her to drop it with a shout as it clanged to the floor.

The noise drew Sabine and the inspector to the back where they say Tom holding Lila off the ground. Furious and still trying to escape, she tried kicking at him only for him to release her wrist, grab her ankle, and then release her jacket so she was hanging upside down. More items hit the floor as her hat fell off, a couple of croissants and the tupperware container of cockroaches fell from her pockets, and landed next to a bloody knife…

Uh-oh.

Looking up, she saw that his right arm was bleeding from where she had slashed him with the knife, which had her fingerprints all over it. She was going to be in so much trouble unless she could think of a way out of this!

“What happened, Tom?” Sabine asked, worried when she saw her husband’s bleeding arm and was slightly confused by the girl hanging upside-down in their kitchen. It took a moment before she seemed to recognize Lila as the girl that had gotten her daughter expelled a few weeks before.

“I was coming down to meet Inspector LaStare with you and caught this girl putting bad pastries with the others.”

“That’s not it!” Lila yelled in a panic and she wiggled in his grip, resembling a fish on a hook. “I-I-I was- I was getting rid of them! I was taking them off the counter to throw them away!”

“And your container of cockroaches?” Asked Sabine, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring dubiously at the girl.

“Those aren’t mine! I swear! If you would just let me explain-”

“I’ve already heard enough to recognize your voice, young lady,” the inspector snapped as he stepped closer to glare at Lila. “I bet you weren’t paying attention when you called the health department all those times and the recording told you that your call would be monitored and recorded. And when a single business gets over twenty complaints in less than a week, it gets some attention. But when we listen to the recordings and hear the same voice for every message, we figure it’s someone with a vendetta against the establishment. Still, we do our do-diligence and inspect the establishment, but I had no idea how stupid a person would be to attempt to plant fake evidence while I was here, in full view of the security cameras.”

She couldn’t help her surprised gasp as she, while still hanging upside down in the hulking baker’s grip, looked around the kitchen ceiling until her eyes landed on the cameras. One pointed at the side door she had picked open and the other pointed at the counter where she had put the moldy pastry.

Sabine leaned in close, glaring straight into Lila’s upside-down eyes. “Young lady, what is your mother’s phone number?” It was clear that it was more of a demand than a question, but she was still trying to think of a way out of trouble before Sabine grabbed her face and forced Lila to look at her. “You can either tell me her number now, or you can tell the police so she can go pick you up at the station while they tell her all the crimes you’re being charged with.”

Angry at being caught and forced to call her mother, Lila thought of what she could do as she tried to look and sound pitiful as she recited her mother’s number. Not difficult since she was red-faced from hanging upside-down for so long. She might not be able to get out of trouble, but she’d be damned if they didn’t pay for humiliating her.

After Sabine stepped into the front of the bakery to make the call, Lila tearfully looked up at Tom. “Can you please put me down? I’m getting really dizzy.”

She could tell that the man was tempted to drop her on her head, but he was too much of a goody-goody like his daughter and he eased her gently to the floor. As soon as he let go of her ankle, Lila’s uninjured hand snapped out and grabbed the tupperware of cockroaches, ripped off the lid, and flung the insects across the floor.

Tom and Inspector LaStare yelled in surprise and disgust as Lila attempted to escape, this time running for the front of the bakery. She actually made it out of the kitchen, but ended up face to face with Sabine. Without a word, the woman grabbed Lila’s by the arm, flipped her over her shoulder to the floor, and twisted her arm to where she couldn’t move.

“Are you okay, Tom?” Sabine called, her voice eerily calm to Lila’s ears.

“She flung those cockroaches across the kitchen! They’re everywhere!” Tom yelled as he and the inspector scrambled to try and kill or capture the insects.

“I’ve already called her mother and the police, they’ll be here any minute.”

Lila’s struggles doubled when she heard that. “You said you wouldn’t call the police if I gave you my mom’s number!”

Sabine merely twisted the girl’s arm a little more, halting her struggles rather than letting her arm break. “I said no such thing. I only said you could choose whether to talk to your mother here or at the police station. And I promise you, young lady, your mother is going to hear everything you’ve been up to. Including what you’ve been doing Marinette.”

~oOo~

The fallout had been epic after the police and Lila’s mother arrived at the bakery.

Greta Rossi had been in denial at first, not wanting to think that her daughter was capable of such terrible behavior. But it was hard to argue with the video evidence and eyewitness accounts of Lila attempting to plant moldy pastries, vindictively releasing the cockroaches in the kitchen, or attacking Tom Dupain with a knife, which would require stitches.

It got even worse when school let out for lunch and the majority of Lila’s classmates came rushing over when they saw the police and ambulance at the bakery. Mme. Rossi had asked them why they were all out when there was an akuma on the loose. The class asked her why they were back in Paris since she was supposed to be in a meeting with the royal family of Spain. It became apparent after a few more minutes of back and forth that Lila had been lying for the entire time they’d been in France and Greta would have to meet with M. Damocles and Mme. Bustier soon about her daughter’s absences and failure to contact her.

When the police were placing handcuffs on Lila, she started shrieking. “You can’t do this to me! I have diplomatic immunity! Let me go or I’ll get you fired and Italy will invade France for what you’re doing to me!”

“Wrong!” Greta spoke over Lila as she approached her daughter. “I’m a secretary at the embassy, not a diplomat. Only I have immunity, you don’t. I was lucky to even be able to bring you on assignment rather than leave you with your Zio and Zia in Italy. But I see that was a mistake, and now both of us will have to pay for that mistake!”

Lila continued to shriek and curse as she was forced into the back of the police cruiser and taken to the police station.

In the end; Lila was charged with corporate sabotage, breaking and entering, assault with a deadly weapon, and slander by Tom and Sabine. She was also charged for truancy, forgery, bullying, slander, and cyber bullying for what she’d done to Marinette at school. Lila’s mother was forced to pay for an exterminator to take care of the cockroaches, as well as all of the supplies and pastries that had been at the bakery and had to be thrown out due to the infestation that Lila had attempted to cause. But the worst was having to pay restitution for the time the bakery was closed. Turns out, Tom and Sabine’s bakery really was the top bakery in Paris and had the receipts to prove it.

There had been some worry that the temporary shutdown would hurt the bakery’s reputation, but Inspector LaStare, with the help of Nadja Chamack, had seen to it that none of the problems would blow back on the Dupain-Chengs. Inspector LaStare had gone on record stating that it was a rare occasion where an establishment was completely innocent of the accusations brought against it, but this was one of those times. He then showed footage of Lila planting the moldy pastry, assaulting Tom with the knife, and flinging the bugs into the kitchen before attempting to escape. He also stated that he was personally working with the Dupain-Chengs to make sure that the bakery was up to code and open as soon as possible so all of Paris could get back to enjoying their favorite pastries.

Viewers all over Paris were appalled at the actions of the teenage girl,discovering her vendetta was against Marinette since she knew about Lila’s lies. While laughing at her as they watched Tom hold her upside-down by her leg and Sabine flip the fleeing girl over her shoulder via security footage. The footage ended up being shared by people all over YouTube and gained millions of views, showing their support for the Dupain-Chengs and humiliating Lila on a now global level.

There was also sympathy towards Marinette and outrage towards the Francois Dupont administration when Nadja reported how Lila had also been bullying Marinette without receiving any help from the school. This would result in both Damocles and Bustier being suspended from their jobs until they completed training in regards to handling bullies.

With all the publicity against Lila Rossi, Gabriel Agreste had been left in a difficult position since Lila had only recently been named a new spokesmodel for his brand. Adrien, however, offered a solution to save face and help the brand in the future. So, when Nadja was doing a followup on the story the following week, Gabriel did a video interview where he very publicly announced Lila’s termination from the company for her actions and announced that he had offered Marinette an internship and a scholarship to the fashion university of her choice, so long as she was accepted. This caused a slew of universities to scout Marinette themselves, as it wasn’t every day a fashion mogul does a public shout out to a girl in college. And just like that, sales and public opinion of the Agreste brand went up.

Lila watched all of this unfold from her prison cell outside of Paris. She had been tried as an adult and was caught committing perjury during her trial, which prompted the judge to give her the maximum sentence for her crimes. She couldn’t even enjoy the pleasure of being akumatized anymore since she was so far out of the city. All she could do was sit in her cell eating moldy bread with cockroaches as her only friends as she sulked on the fact that she had failed, and the entire world was laughing at her.

Taglist:

@2confused-2doanything @7-sage-7 @aadnrsstar @abrx2002 @awkwardromances @bayball @babylovebug18 @botanicalfoxx @back-cats-and-broken-mirrors @caffeinetheory @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @classycollectorreviewworld @corabeth11 @chocolatechipcookiesandcamembert @darkened-flame @delightfulcookiesrecipespizza @fandom-trapped-03 @ghostmaster @iamblinkmarvelarmy @interobanginyourmom @izang @jesussavedevenme @kazedancer @kitten12113 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @lilypotter2018 @lunataravler @ladylupuscrow @maskedpainter @miraculouslydumb @nerd-nowandforever @ola-is-dead @pandacatxd @plushbookworm @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @pheonix-biach @pandora-fucking-box @raiderofthelostbooks @ramos123 @rowanrouge @rowanyx @ren121 @seesea22 @seraphichana @sashakoi @shypeacekitten @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @the-smallest-kittenz @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @t1dwarrior-of-earth @ulmban @with-forward-motion @wonderbat91939 @zoiechance

#lila lies #lila karma #lila salt #lila gets exposed #marinette dupain cheng #tom dupain #sabine cheng #badass parents #mlbjustice #ml fic #ml prompt

788 notes · View notes

admirableadmiranda · 3 years ago

Text

Debts and balances: or how much does one man have to pay over the course of his life?

Good morning everyone! Today we’re going to be talking about debts, and why Jiang Cheng needs to shut the fuck up on debts because he is the one in the wrong pretty much the entire time.

Let’s start by acknowledging that I am not of this culture so I may perhaps state a thing or two wrong, but I also have several functioning brain cells to rub together and I pay attention so I will probably be more right than most of the “hot takes” I see on why Jiang Cheng is not actually in the wrong here. Because he is. He so is.

So, debts. First of all, there are multiple levels and layers of debts and to whom do you owe them too. So let’s start with the first one where the story is subtle about it and yet both Jiang Cheng and Madam Yu are in the wrong. We know that Cangse Sanren saved Jiang Fengmian’s life at one point when they were young. Life debts are big. To only be alive because of someone else’s actions is a debt that it is possible you will never be able to pay back. There are multiple stories of otherwise good people protecting the obvious villain because they owe that.

Jiang Fengmian’s only way of being able to pay back that debt after Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze die is to take care of their child and raise him how they would have. I.E, as a cultivator. This is not a debt that Wei Wuxian owes to the Jiangs. It is quite literally, the least of what Jiang Fengmian owes him and his parents to do.

Jiang Cheng cannot claim that Wei Wuxian owes them for his life. He is wrong.

Next debt that even Jiang Cheng does not try to claim, only his ever so pleasant stans, the fucking dogs. The fucking dogs that he does not actually give a fuck about.

Wei Wuxian does not ask anyone to do anything about the dogs. He is not in a mental state to. He is in a state of triggered phobia where his brain literally goes into run away screaming mode. This is also not funny and Jiang Cheng is a jackass for making fun of it whenever it happens. Jiang Fengmian is the one who decides that it’s better for the dogs to go. Even though Jiang Cheng is upset, he does not actually hold this as a lingering grudge against Wei Wuxian. He lets it the fuck go. And even if he didn’t, the resentment and anger should be aimed at the person who actually made a decision about it. Not Wei Wuxian. He does not give one singular fuck about his dogs later on. Let the fucking dogs go.

Third off: The Fall of Lotus Pier. There are different levels of blame that we can lay on this. Wei Wuxian is not close to responsible for this. Jiang Cheng knows this and elects to blame him anyway.

The first people we can lay the blame on the fall of Lotus Pier is the Wens, who came with ships, warriors, Wang Lingjiao to rile up the notoriously short tempered asshole Madam Yu, and Wen Zhuliu the Core-Melting Hand. They came prepared for battle and they got what they wanted. Madam Yu is the second one we can lay the blame on, for deciding to attack and demean Wang Lingjiao, not for making her do anything she didn’t want to do, because holy hell did she want to whip Wei Wuxian until he couldn’t move and leapt at the chance to do such a thing, but because Wang Lingjiao is a servant who was elevated by her lover and Madam Yu is a classist asshole. This is the only reason she flips out. Wei Wuxian did nothing wrong. Wei Wuxian does not have the blood of Lotus Pier on his hands, he is tied to Jiang Cheng and told to protect him at the cost of his life, a debt he does not owe.

The four debt he attempts to claim, the only one that might be considered to have some teeth if it weren’t for how much Wei Wuxian gives him back almost immediately. Jiang Cheng goes to distract the Wens from Wei Wuxian and ends up getting captured and losing his golden core. So first off, in this world a golden core is a lot to lose, I won’t deny that. But, first off, Wei Wuxian is only in danger because after being whipped a lot, then strangled, then having to run after Jiang Cheng multiple times because he would rather go die at Lotus Pier than listen to either of his parents and escape, he still goes into town to get them something to eat because otherwise Jiang Cheng would rather lie on the ground and die. Fucking great sect leadership there, huh Jiang Cheng? But yes, Jiang Cheng sees the Wens, sees them notice Wei Wuxian, goes off to distract them and then gets captured and loses his golden core.

Now we’re getting to some of the debts that Jiang Cheng owes and refuses to pay back, because that’s definitely going to get him far in this world. Wei Wuxian in his panic and attempt to find Jiang Cheng, finds Wen Ning, who after some struggles manages to convince him that he can sneak in and get Jiang Cheng back out. In addition, he also retrieves the bodies of Madam Yu and Jiang Fengmian. This is huge. Jiang Cheng now owes him both a life debt for again, saving his life at great cost to his own: Wen Ning is literally committing treason here, and also for restoring the lost honor of not being able to bury his parents properly. Wen Ning gives them a proper burial and later after the war he is able to lie them to rest in the Ancestors Hall so their spirits will be at peace and he will have fulfilled his fillial duties. By all means, the debt he owes Wen Ning in particular is so great that he should have taken in every Wen in those camps and sheltered them because it is as close as he will ever get to repaying that debt. And that’s just Wen Ning!

The next debt he owes and refuses to pay is to Wen Qing, a genius doctor and respected by Wen Ruohan, who uses the prestige and skills she has to protect both him and Wei Wuxian in at this point enemy territory when they are being actively searched for, being the new sect leader and head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang. She hides them and then later uses her skills to give him a new golden core so that he can go and fight back against his people, revitalizing his clan and eradicating hers. This is another debt that could only really be paid back by protecting her people if she came to him. He owes her literally his life, his power and his people.

The third debt he owes and refuses to pay is to Wei Wuxian, who more than overbalances the scales back in his favor by giving him his golden core. He pays his chance at immortality, his power, his strength, his cultivation, everything that he has to his name so that Jiang Cheng won’t starve himself to death over losing his core. In addition, he tells Jiang Cheng that this comes from a once in a lifetime favor from his mother’s master so even before when he didn’t know about the core, this is still a massive, massive debt, a limitless one time favor from an immortal that he uses Wei Wuxian’s chance to get and never actually thanks him. So at this point, his own golden core as a debt starts to seem a little hollow. Either way, it’s been repaid. An action you do in service of someone else is not a weapon you get to hold over their heads for multiple lives.

Moving on! The next debt he would like to claim is that Wei Wuxian apparently has no right to do things he does not approve of. Excuse me? Is he now a computer program that crashed? What the fuck Jiang Wanyin? Wei Wuxian has less rank than him, although Jiang Cheng is so high rank in this society that he only shares his rank with three other people and there’s no one above him so it would be very hard for him to not be, but he is still a person, with his own thoughts, wishes, dreams, hopes and beliefs. He is not an extension of your hand, to make your clan look good and stand behind you as a hammer to smash on people. Wen Qing goes to Wei Wuxian to ask for help for finding her brother, her people because they are literally being tortured to death. This is a debt that by all means, Jiang Cheng should be repaying. See that part where Wen Ning committed treason to help him and restore his family’s honor? See that part where Wen Qing literally gave him the ability to go back to war against her family? This is the point where anyone with honor would recognize this is the only thing I can do. I will throw myself on my sword if I must, but I must repay this debt to them. There is nothing less I can do. But Jiang Cheng has only the honor of a mangy cur and ignores this, and when Wei Wuxian goes to fulfill this debt, he tells him to stop. To him, his multiple life debts are an inconvience to shoving his nose so far up Jin Guangshan’s ass that he’s tasting what he had for dinner that day.

The next debt that he would like to claim is the death of his brother in law. This is a debt that Wei Wuxian would owe to specific people. This debt is to Jiang Yanli, Jin Guangshan and Jin Ling, one of whom is wanting to forgive it, one who is too small to decide at the time, and one who straight up does not give a fuck beyond advancing his power. Jiang Cheng is not one of these people. His sister is fine, she’s not his concern anymore, she’s a part of the Jin sect. The only reason why he died is that Jiang Cheng decided the best way to repay his debt to Wei Wuxian was to throw a temper tantrum and declare him an enemy to everyone, ripping out every support from under his feet. Regardless, Jiang Cheng is an asshole and does not get to claim this debt.

The final one of Wei Wuxian’s first life that he keeps hurling at him is the death of his sister...the death of his sister who chose to leap between Wei Wuxian and a sword. The death of his sister at a battle that broke out because Jiang Cheng has been with Jin Guangshan whipping the cultivation world into a frenzy against the Wens and Wei Wuxian because of power and jealousy. The battle that would have not happened if they’d left them alone. Jiang Cheng has been to the burial mounds. He has seen the farmers, he has seen the baby there. He has decided that rather than do anything to repay these various deaths, he will kill them on other people’s swords instead. Because he is also a coward and won’t pick fights he can’t win. In addition he likes to steal Yanli’s agency, she’s the one who chose to come, she’s the one who chose to get in the way and she doesn’t die with regrets. And she is not his debt to claim. Again, the one who actually gets to claim this death that Wei Wuxian is not responsible for is Jin Ling, who actually shapes up and decides that it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t blame Wei Wuxian for it. He forgives him his role in that space and moves the fuck on, unlike a certain sir stabby grape mcwhipinnoencts.

And then Wei Wuxian dies and any debts he may have still owed to Jiang Cheng, not that there were any, die with him. Jiang Cheng has no claim on him, he was not part of his sect, they were not brothers in any way, indeed Jiang Cheng called him his enemy. Even most people with far more real grudges at this point would let it go. Wei Wuxian is so dead that no one can find his soul, no matter how hard they look. He comes back to life and reaps the rewards of his actions, finding new allies, getting the chance to actually interact with Jin Ling and make his apologies, and in the end, settle down to a peaceful life with an adoring husband and nothing left to be repaid. If there is still a debt he owes, it is only to Mo Xuanyu, who gave up his entire cycle of life to let Wei Wuxian reincarnate early with his memories, a sacrifice he only asked for repayment in the death of his family. He may owe more still, but that is all Mo Xuanyu wanted from him in repayment for this great sacrifice. The cultivation world is in the wrong when they’re trying to persecute him again for the actions of his previous life, he owes them nothing anymore. The debts he carries towards Jin Ling are the ones he chooses to take on, feeling guilty that he grew up without his parents due to the world’s general actions and also no one else taking responsibility for how far things fell.

That is what Jiang Cheng finally realizes in the temple, crouched on the floor and sobbing like a spoiled child over the golden core sacrifice. Is that he is in the wrong and has been in the wrong the whole time. That there is nothing he can hold onto, no debt that Wei Wuxian ever owed him that he could demand to be paid. He built it all up in his head as he left his honor, his family and his dignity in the wake of his arrogance. And it’s a painful thing to realize, the consequences of your decisions, but all he can do is live with his own ruined reputation, his own loneliness and the fact that no one wants to be around him. He’s blacklisted by multiple matchmakers, his disciples are more like thugs, Wei Wuxian chooses every opportunity to get away from him and even Jin Ling likes him less and less over the course of the book, not forgetting that he seems to prefer Jin Guangyao to begin with as he actually talks to him sometimes and doesn’t hit him. Jiang Cheng refusing to pay his debts gives him exactly what a debt deserter deserves. No one has a reason to trust him. The one bit of positive character growth he does is giving up and not trying to reel him back in by telling him of the sacrifice. At this point, all it would be is just him trying to get another debt he cannot hold because it is long since repaid, never quite made up for what they gave him to make up for it, and worthless in the face of Wei Wuxian’s new life. Wei Wuxian owes him nothing and never has.

Also, just to tally up the relationship between Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng on things given between the two of them, Jiang Cheng gives him: a lot of whinging on how unfair it is that Wei Wuxian is a prodigy, and a one time immediately regretted and held over his head sacrifice of a golden core. Whereas Wei Wuxian gives him: many lessons on how to be a kinder person that he ignores, the patience and tolerance of his stinkbug attitude, his love, his affection, his fucking golden core, his reputation, his blood, his livelihood, taking over his debts, trying to keep any of his actions from reflecting on the Jiangs even though if Jiang Cheng had repaid any of the debts he owed, there would have been no problems because if the Jin’s did decide to attack, Wei Wuxian would fight back and he can level battle fields on his own, his honor, his relationships, and even his life in the end, because if Wei Wuxian had ever turned on him like he claimed, he would have been a bloody smeared spot on the ground. And Jiang Cheng gobbles this all up and demands more with Wei Wuxian’s blood and tears dribbling from his mouth.

Would you give that much for someone who doesn’t treat you well? Would you find that a reasonable price to pay for someone who demeans you at every opportunity, who tells you you deserve your misfortunes and that no one likes you? Why are you surprised that in the end Wei Wuxian would rather walk away with people who care about him, why he gives up, leaves any opportunity for anything in Jiang Cheng’s hands. Wei Wuxian has given more than any person should for almost nothing. It is a sign of triumph and victory, of recognizing his own worth and value in the world and who he wants to be with, that he leaves, that he walks away with his head held high. He owes Jiang Cheng nothing, and Jiang Cheng will just have to fucking live with that.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #canon jiang cheng #let's talk about debt #long post #let's use fuck as a exclamation mark #modaozushi is the story of walking away from an abusive relationship and we should recognize that #no yunmeng reconciliation #wei wuxian #wei wuxian did nothing wrong #addressing common misconceptions when it comes to debts to be paid #let's stop excusing Jiang Cheng avoiding paying any of his debts

369 notes · View notes

rainieclown · 3 years ago

Text

DEADLY OBSESSION

michael myers x reader - chapter one: new neighbours

you've been in the haddonfield memorial hospital for what felt like forever with ptsd from a robbery gone wrong when a new patient gets thrown in next to you. he's quiet, perfect company if it weren't for the high security around him.

tags: medication, hospital settings, this is before michael gets out of the hospital, orphan! reader btw, it's spoken about more in detail in the fic, michael being a mute for a while, he does speak in this tho, smut, first times, michael being inexperienced, creampie, biting/marking, big dick michael energy, hymen ripping btw

warnings: ptsd themes, therapy, mentions of murder and depression, eventual smut, loss of virginity, mild blood, slight breeding kink on michael's end

a quick note!

if anything related to the ptsd the reader experiences is incorrect/wrong please let me know so i can correct it and learn! i am researching this so i can to write it with the accuracy it deserves<3

three sharp knocks wake you from your nightmare, you sigh at the sight of the ceiling of your hospital room. bland, the room is so incredibly bland. "y/n, medication time!" the nurse that takes main care for you chirps happily through the door, and you let out a wheeze as you sit up and pull on a shirt. "coming." you say, voice monotone and small. opening the door, you see the nurse with a tray, but what does capture your eye is the guards standing by a door nearby. "miss burnham, what's going on there?" you quirk a brow, taking your sertraline from miss burnham as well as the glass of water. "oh it's just a new patient, don't worry." the nurse brushes your question off with a kind smile as she takes the now empty glass back. "come on, breakfast then art therapy!" she beams, gesturing for you to follow her. you glance at the door again, before leaving with miss burnham.

breakfast is bland too, no sugar in the porridge, no fruit, no juice. it's so distastefully bland that you want to push it away but you don't want to get told off for not eating by mrs finch who was the more strict nurse that worked on supervision in the more social places, most of the time anyway. miss burnham sits across from you, reading over your schedule from her clipboard. "so, after art therapy is your free period, what do you want to do then?" she asks, looking up at you. "can we watch a movie with the others?" you ask softly, and miss burnham's eyes brighten. "you want to socialise today?" she beams and you sigh, taking a sip of water. "sure." you say softly, glancing around the cafeteria. "that's amazing, that will make outstanding progress!" she smiles, resting her cold hand on yours but pulls away when you flinch. "sorry, i forget." she says softly, but you sigh. "it's alright." you say, spotting a scruffy teen who looked to be the same age as you being directed to an empty table.

miss burnham hums and turns to see what you're looking at. "oh, that's mr myers, he's your new neighbour." she says when she turns back to you. "he looks interesting." you say, observing the cuffs on his wrist. myers plops down at the table, ignoring the bowl they put in front of him. "hmm, stay away from him. he seems to be under high security." miss burnham says, turning back to look at myers. the boy's eyes flicker to yours and your breath hitches, a sense of mild panic rising in your throat. "if you're done, we can go to the yellow room to do some painting with doctor piers." burnham says softly, pulling your attention back to her. "sure.." you mumble, and follow her out the door, past myers who watches you the whole way.

doctor piers is a happy man who greets you loudly. you don't like his suffocating energy, so miss burnham sits you down in your quiet corner and gives you your sketchbook. you sit quietly and draw things from your childhood, things that make you happy, all while miss burnham actually colours in a colouring page with the pencils you use. you felt peaceful with her by your side, she was like your big sister considering she was close to your age. "ooh, i like him." miss burnham smiles, tapping her nail next to the rough sketch of snufkin from the moomins. "thanks..." you reply quietly, letting the nurse push the pencils to you so you can colour him in.

for once, you don't feel alone... don't feel isolated with your thoughts and bad memories. miss burnham is your safe place, your new family. "so, y/n. are you interested in anyone in particular that you want to befriend?" miss burnham asks, the scratching of her pencil on paper stopping as she leans forward as if the two of you were gossiping about crushes. "not really... just think it's good to try and ease myself back into being around people other than you." you shrug, putting the green pencil down to pick up a yellow one. "that's still good. do you want to try and finish the drawing of him." she asks, flipping the page carefully to the recreation of that fateful night. your breath hitches as you stare at the charcoal drawing of the man standing over your mother. "what else do you remember, if there's anything else?" burnham asks, watching you carefully.

it comes back in waves, it was supposed to be a robbery, your family was in the wrong place at the wrong time, the blood spatter, the ornament that was used as a weapon dripping with the red substance. tears fill your eyes as you let out a shuddery breath. "no." you say firmly, wanting to push the book away. "are you sure, you haven't drawn any facial features for him.. it will help the investigation a lot." your nurse reminds you, and your hand tightens on the pencil. "i don't want to!" you snap, getting up abruptly, chair screeching back. "okay, okay. deep breaths." burnham stands too, fighting the urge to gently rub your arm soothingly. "i don't want to think about it." you hiss, storming off. nurse burnham calls after you, and doctor piers looks up to see you making a run for it. "y/n, wait!" he tries, but you swerve him and run out the door.

nurse burnham can't keep up in her high heels, and you outrun her easily, making your way to your room after losing her. you're alone again, and you catch sight of myers, sat in his room just as alone as you are. the guard is talking to doctor loomis, a man who gives you the creeps. seeing an opportunity to get past, you slip into your room quickly, once again isolating yourself. in his own room, michael had spotted you through the glass on his door, and he walks up, peering into your room as best he can. "hey! back up, myers." the guard bangs his door, now without loomis's presence, but michael doesn't move. he's unfazed by the guard's aggressive nature. the noise spooked you, you looked like a deer in headlights as you stare back at him.

you seem... disturbed by something, and that upsets michael. the feeling in his chest, to grab you and hide you from the world grows at the look in your eye. michael's hand finds the door, and he yoinks it open once the guard unlocked it in an attempt to push him back into his cell. "hey! what're you-?" he cuts the guard off, knocking the man out easily. his body hits the floor as michael opens your door easily. you gasp, back hitting the corner of your wall as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. "please, don't hurt me! i didn't do anything!" you yell, and michael shakes his head as he closes your door. "leave me alone." you repeat the three words like a prayer, voice quieter as your hands grip your hair with stress. "i'm not going to hurt you." michael rasps painfully, shocked at how deep his voice had gotten in comparison to the last time he spoke.

his words don't seem to get through to you, and he grows mildly annoyed. eventually, michael sits next to you and pulls you into a tight hug, hoping it would help as he had no idea what to do. you yelp in surprise, breathing slowing with confusion as you look up at the brunette with furrowed brows. "i-.. what..?" you stumble for words, but michael doesn't say anything, his empty eyes observing you. "thank you..." you mumble, once you calm down, and michael nods. "what's your name..?" you ask quietly, and michael continues to stare before answering.

"michael." he rasps, pointing at himself. "nice to meet you, michael. i'm y/n." you reply, eyes averting from his anxiously. michael sits with you as you start thinking. more intrusive thoughts break in, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes you as you rub your forehead. michael tilts his head, observing you. "sorry... it's just..." you sigh trying to find an explanation that didn't include what you thought of. "do you ever get intrusive thoughts?" you ask, finally looking at michael. the other teen nods, and you deflate with relief, he'd understand you. "they suck, don't they?" you chuckle half-heartedly, and michael shrugs. "oh, do they not bother you as much?"

he doesn't reply, and you nod slightly. "want me to show you around? i need to take my mind of things." you suggest, getting up and looking at the boy on your floor. michael seems to think for a moment before nodding and following you. you step over the guard carefully, and gesture for michael to follow you. the click-clacking of heels makes you grab the other teen's hand as you pull him around a corner. "shh! they'll be looking for me." you can't help but smile at the make-shift game of cat and mouse. it's been a while since you got to play games. michael blinks at you, letting you lead him around. "this is the rec room, it's the best room here. if you have a free period this is the best place to go. they let you watch anything they have." you smile, creaking the door open carefully.

doctor addison spots you and rushes over. "nurse burnham is looking for you." he whisper yells and you nod. "i'm showing the new guy around so shh!" you say, putting a finger up to your mouth. "it's good to see you getting out of your comfort zone. if i see her i'll tell her you're helping doctor loomis." he winks, and you smile slightly. "thanks addison." you say, pulling michael away from the room. "who's that?" michael's deep voice makes you jump. "oh, doctor addison? he's so cool, he'll give you snacks for after hours." you smile up at him, and michael notes the personality of the doctor. easy target to begin with. "you've seen the cafeteria so let's go to the gardens next." you say, peering around a corner carefully before ducking back, your back bumping into michael's chest. "my nurse is coming, quick, we can hide in here!" you whisper yell, pulling michael into doctor addison's office.

you close the door carefully, and michael observes the room. the decor is very vintage yet comfy, it suits the doctor quite well. you press your ear to the door carefully, listening as miss burnham speaks to doctor addison. you gasp as michael pulls you from the door, hand grasping your wrist. "are you alright?" you ask carefully, looking up at the brunette who didn't seem bothered. he shrugs, simply holding you near to him. your presence stirred something in him, and he didn't know if he should kill you or hold you closer. michael spots a candle stick, and his eyes dart from it to you.

michael lets out a silent breath as he decides on the latter, tugging you into his chest. your breath hitches as you hit his large frame, and your eyes come back to him. craning his head down, michael buries his face into the crook of your neck. you make a small noise, unsure of what to do as he takes in your scent. "uh... michael?" you furrow your brows, hands raised awkwardly as you didn't know where to put them. "shh." he hushes you, hands finding your hips. "what are you-?" your question is cut off by his lips grazing your neck, and it all clicks into place.

your body froze up, michael made a silent note of this. "i- uh.." you stammer as he continues to kiss your neck. "fuck, michael. we shouldn't do this." you say softly, glancing to the door. michael hushes you as his teeth nip your skin, he was testing the waters with you. your knees felt weak as your eyes fluttered shut. it had been so long since you had got to do anything like this, since you got to feel like a teenager. your hand find's michael's fluffy hair as you move his head closer to you.

taking the small success, michael sinks his teeth into your neck fully. the feelings in his chest explode as he finally marks you, suckling the dark bruise onto your skin. you whimper at the feeling, your other hand resting on his chest. eventually, his lips move again, and they find your jaw. you hum, letting him press closer to you as his lips kiss up your your own. when your lips meet, michael's inexperience really shows, he doesn't really know what to do so you take the lead.

eventually, his lips copy your movement as his hands tighten on your hips. you hum into his mouth, fingers gently stroking his scalp as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. it felt right, and you didn't know why. eventually, when michael pulls away, you gaze into his eyes and notice the scar over his right one. "oh, what happened?" you ask, fingertips gently grazing over the scar on his eyes. upon closer look, his iris was paler than the other, and you guessed his vision was poor from the one eye. you're not able to get a closer look as michael kisses you again. you hands cup his face as you melt into him, lips moving against his fluently. michael moves with you, and you gasp as your lower back hits the desk in the room. the other teen's strong hands lift you and plop you down so you're sitting on the hard wood of the table.

your arms wrap around michael's neck to kiss him again, and he's happy that you're slowly beginning to show interest in him. you make a small noise as michael pulls your legs around his waist, standing between them with his pelvis pressing against yours. teasingly, you shuffle your hips against him as you kiss him again. michael growls softly, grinding into you as he grasps your thighs roughly to stop your movements. "i've never done this before." you admit, keeping him close as he hums. "me neither." he shrugs, kissing you again. you feel eased by michael's lack of experience, it felt like the two of you were experimenting together and that comforts you.

eventually, michael's fingers find the waistband of your pants and you whimper as he tugs them down easily. "no underwear?" he chuckles softly, and your cheeks heat up. "some of us don't have that luxury." you mumble, averting his gaze. "it's fine." he shrugs, fingers brushing over your slit. you gasp at the feeling of him spreading you open, and can't help but move your hips against his digits. his middle finger teases your wet hole, and you whine when he collects some of it to bring into his mouth. you feel slightly embarrassed as he suckles your pleasure off his finger with no shame before moving his hand back down to rub his fingers over your slit again.

your smaller hand finds his, and you guide his fingers to your clit with a small moan. catching your meaning, michael's rough fingers start rubbing small circles over your bud. you gasp, back arching into him as his fingertips stimulate you. "fuck, michael!" you whimper, hands grasping his shirt to pull him closer. he hums at your words, moving so his thumb abused your clit whilst his fingers slowly pushed your hole open. you whine as his fingers press into you, your hymen stretching uncomfortably. "michael, please- i need you." you whimper, letting him lay you back on the desk. removing his hand from you, he pulls down his own pants, erection springing free.

you freeze slightly at his size, unsure if he'll fit. michael notes your uneasiness as rubs your outer thighs softly. you smile nervously as his tip rubs against your cunt, your hands grasping his anxiously as he slowly pushes into you. you wail as his cock rips your hymen, and michael smiles as your blood slowly smears his cock. "it hurts!" you whimper, grabbing his arms tightly with discomfort. michael shushes you, and gives you small kisses until you stop whining. once you've settled around the intrusion and your pussy adjusts to his dick, you give him the nod to say that you're ready. michael slowly pushes in so that he's fully sheathed before pulling out half way. you whimper at the feeling, pleasure slowly overtaking the dull pain you still felt.

eventually, michael finds a medium pace in you, smiling as his cock bobs through the skin of your stomach. you whimper, holding michael's arms even tighter as he fucks into you. "oh fuck..!" you yelp as his tip protrudes from your abdomen. "sh." he replies quickly as your back arches off the table. "fuck, michael- oh!" you press your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as he speeds up. eventually, his hand moves and starts rubbing fast circles on your clit. you gasp and keen loudly behind your palm as your thighs tremble around his hips. michael grips the flesh of your outer thighs tightly as he adjusts your legs towards you at an awkward angle. despite the weird position, you moan loudly as his cock pushes deeper into you, his tip kissing your womb.

michael hums at the feeling as his hand gets tired of stimulating you, so as a substitute, he brings his hand down onto your swollen bud harshly. you wail at the sting of his slap, pleasure rolling through your body. taking that as a good sign, michael waits before slapping your clit again harder. unexpectedly, you cum on his cock as you shudder and tremble under him. your cunt squeezes michael's cock tightly, preventing him from moving. the way your gummy walls grip him as you twitch around him is too much, so michael pushes into your womb so his cum filled you up.

you gasp at the feeling of his hot seed spilling into you, and michael seems to be loving it because when you come down from your high and loosen around him slightly, he's fucking his cum into you. you can't help but let out a small noise with every thrust, whimpering when michael stops, satisfied with how deep his cum had gone. your womb drinks up his seed nicely as you let michael grab your hands to pull you up into a sitting position. slumping against him, you nuzzle into his chest, your eyes becoming droopy with exhaustion. he grins at your sated state, pulling your pants up for you. once he is dressed as well, he picks you up carefully to bring you back to your room to rest.

michael ignores the nurses who try to stop him, marching past them as he carries your sleepy form to his room instead. he didn't know much, but he did know that only armed guards as well as doctor loomis were only allowed in his room for safety reasons and it was his best bet of keeping you with him. carefully opening his door, he closes it behind him with his foot and watches as the nurses stand anxiously peering through the window. he puts you down carefully on his bed, letting you settle as he sits down. his eyes find the nurses, one of them had left, probably to get security or doctor loomis. rolling his eyes, michael moves his attention back to you. you had already dozed off, and michael looks down to your stomach. the idea of you being swollen with his child excites him, a true marking. however, his hatred for children conflicts that, and he feels slightly frustrated.

three sharp knocks on the door can be heard, and michael lazily looks back over. doctor loomis is standing there, and he looks furious, but michael will stand his ground for you.

#michael myers x reader #michael myers #halloween resurrection

156 notes · View notes

starryhyuck · 4 years ago

Text

good girls (m) | slytherin!hyuck

pairing: slytherin!donghyuck x ravenclaw!reader

words: 4k+

summary: donghyuck thinks you’re the most perfect, little goody-two-shoes head girl who’s ever walked the halls of hogwarts. that is, until he finds out you’ve fucked na jaemin in the back of the library.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: public sex, overstimulation, creampies, degradation, riding

yes this is inspired by ‘good girls’ from 5sos.. how did you know?

“Leave me alone, Donghyuck.”

The Slytherin boy insists on following you, weaving his way through the shelves of the library simply just to annoy you. You’re sure Donghyuck has made it his goal to get under your skin this year, just as he has done in years prior. Luckily, the both of you are reaching the end of your time at Hogwarts, so it shouldn’t be long before he completely disappears from your life.

“What’s wrong? I’m just asking you for Potions help.”

You glare at him as you reach for another book you need to study. Since your father was the Potions professor, Donghyuck always assumed you would be able to help him cheat on upcoming tests. His version of help was always laced with just tell me the answer.

“I’m not telling you anything,” you hiss lowly, scurrying away in an attempt to get him to leave. You’re unsuccessful, of course, as he trails behind you when you reach your desk.

“Will you at least come to the Quidditch game this weekend?” He smirks, placing his hands on the table and leaning over to grin sleazily at you. You roll your eyes, getting situated in your seat as you open your Charms textbook.

“I’m not interested in watching Quidditch.”

He narrows his eyes. “Don’t lie. I saw you in the stands last weekend with Renjun.”

“Fine. I’m not interested in watching you play Quidditch.”

He scoffs. “Whatever. Just let me know when goody-two-shoes wants to come out of the library and have some fun.”

Donghyuck leaves you, finding Yangyang and Jeno in the Great Hall. The boys are laughing at the Slytherin table even though neither of them are actually a Slytherin. The rest of the table isn’t bothered by their presence.

Jeno snickers at the sight of Donghyuck’s long face when he sits next to him.

“Struck out again?”

“I didn’t strike out,” Donghyuck clarifies, although nobody is buying it. “It’s a slow process.”

“So you struck out?” Yangyang chuckles.

Donghyuck just rolls his eyes. “I’ll get there.”

Jeno glances back down at his Herbology textbook. “You should talk to Jaemin. I think they’re good friends.”

It’s hard to fathom that you would be friends with anybody, considering you spend most of your time in the library or helping your dad out in his office. Donghyuck’s tried really hard to get a sliver of your attention since First Year. He didn’t know exactly what it was that attracted him to you, but he supposes that you rejecting him kept spurring on his advances. You were also super fucking hot, and he almost passed out in Fourth Year when you showed up to the Yule Ball wearing a dress that still lingers in his dreams.

“How would Jaemin even-“

“Don’t ask me,” Jeno brushes off. “I’m studying.”

Donghyuck huffs before pulling out his own textbook. He supposes he should study too since you’re clearly not going to help him. He tends to zone out during most of his classes, mainly thinking about how sinful you look in your little skirt, how he could just rip your robes right off and-

Yangyang hits him upside the head. Donghyuck groans.

“Stop daydreaming and focus.”

The Slytherin boy grumbles but listens anyways, trying his best to focus on the History of Magic instead of imagining you bent over one of the desks in Potions class.

—

“If you’re not going because Donghyuck asked you to, then that’s just stupid. I don’t even understand why you’re in Ravenclaw.”

You glare at Renjun. He’s all dressed up in Ravenclaw gear, covered head to toe in a mountain of blue. You rarely attend Quidditch games unless Renjun drags your ass out there to watch.

“I don’t want to go today. Can’t you find someone else to come with you?”

“Nope. Only you,” he smiles. You’re not amused in the slightest bit. “Oh, I see. Is it because you don’t want to see Na Jaemin?”

“Jaemin and I are history, Renjun. Don’t need to dwell in the past.”

“You fucked him literally a month ago.”

You grab the nearest article of clothing near you and fling it at Renjun. Jisu grunts at the both of you.

“Holy fuck, I’m trying to study! Just go to the game and get the fuck out of our room!”

You grumble but listen to your roommate as she seems to grow more irate the longer Renjun stands in the doorway. He smiles in victory when you walk beside him to the Quidditch field. You ignore his glee while he babbles on about today’s game, wondering who’s going to reach victory.

You both find seats in the stands, and you feel embarrassed being here. After all, it was only a month ago when Jaemin fucked you in the Quidditch locker rooms. You managed to not get caught, but you wouldn’t hold it against Jaemin to tell the entire team what happened.

Jaemin wasn’t your boyfriend by any means. You two simply started to get closer this year and to release most of your frustration, you found yourself underneath him every once in a while. You ended it last month after Seojeong started to show an interest in dating him, and you didn’t want to interfere with the Hufflepuff’s advances. You haven’t spoken to Jaemin since then, only catching him eyeing you during Potions ever so often.

But now you see him as he mounts his broom, holding steady in the air as Slytherin’s Seeker. Your eyes are too focused on him to realize Donghyuck has been waving frantically for the last minute to try and get your attention.

Renjun elbows your side and you groan.

“What the fuck?”

He points to where Donghyuck is, just a few feet away from Jaemin in the air. You sigh and refuse to wave back at him, but Donghyuck still keeps his bright smile.

“Wouldn’t he be better as a commentator than a player?” You ask Renjun, knowing how fast Donghyuck can run his mouth.

“You’ll be surprised. Donghyuck’s really good. If I were on the team though, I think I would like to be Seeker,” Renjun muses.

You scoff. “Seeker? You can’t see for shit!”

You think Renjun’s about to murder you then and there, but the whistle is blown and the game sets in motion. He diverts his attention, cheering loudly for Ravenclaw.

As the game draws on, you see what Renjun means. Donghyuck is impeccably fast on his broom, whizzing by your Ravenclaw team to throw the Quaffle into one of the hoops. Your eyes widen and you lean over to Renjun.

“He’s pretty good.”

“I told you.”

You become mesmerized in the way Donghyuck zooms across the field, dodging any incoming bludgers and getting score after score for Slytherin. You would usually be focused on how Jaemin holds steady on his broom, trying to capture the Snitch.

You can’t take your eyes off Donghyuck’s figure, sweat dripping from his forehead as he eagerly throws the Quaffle into another hoop. Chenle, the commentator, praises him once again. You don’t even mind that your team is losing — Donghyuck seems determined to make them eat dirt.

You won’t lie either, he looks incredibly attractive like this.

“Fuck!” Renjun shouts in your ear. “Jaemin found the Snitch!”

It’s only mere seconds before Chenle declares victory for Slytherin, and the sea of green leaps up to cheer. Renjun grumbles, hanging his head in his hands as you laugh. The rest of Ravenclaw is just as dejected as him, filing out of the stands and mumbling about how no one can stop Donghyuck once he’s on the field.

“Come on, champ,” you encourage him, trying to pull the small boy up from his seat. Renjun sighs as he follows you and since you two are one of the last ones to leave the stands, you catch the Slytherin team leaving the locker rooms and bouncing with joy to go to their after party.

Donghyuck’s eyes light up when he sees you and you quickly try to detour, tugging Renjun along with you. Donghyuck calls out your name and you sigh, turning back around to face him. He looks like a dream if you’re being honest, fresh out of the showers and beaming at his victory.

“You came!”

You cough awkwardly. “Renjun dragged me here.”

“Impressive what you did out on the field,” Renjun nods in acknowledgment. You can only imagine how hard it was for him to choke out a compliment, considering Renjun hates when Ravenclaw loses.

Donghyuck nods back. He turns his attention to you. “Coming to the after party?”

“We’re not in Slytherin,” you mention, pointing to the blue colors both you and Renjun are wearing. “Plus, you just killed our Quidditch team’s reputation.”

He smirks. “True, but I’m sure no one cares if you’re from a different house as long as you celebrate. At least, I don’t care if you’re a Ravenclaw.”

Renjun clears his throat at Donghyuck’s attempt at flirting. He nudges your side when Jaemin leaves the locker rooms, his hair a newly dyed blonde as he combs his fingers through it.

You quickly grab Renjun’s wrist. “Um, we’ll decline. See you later!”

You both scurry away before Jaemin has a chance to see you, leaving Donghyuck flustered at your rejection. Jaemin comes up to swing his arm around Donghyuck’s shoulder.

“Why are you still here? I thought you would be off to the party by now.”

Donghyuck sighs. “Tried my luck with Y/N but she just hates me.”

Jaemin freezes at the sound of your name. He coughs a little. “Are you talking about the Ravenclaw?”

Donghyuck nods and the two begin walking back to their common room. “Yeah, I’ve been trying to get her to open up to me but I guess she’s really not interested.”

“Um, do you know that we used to be a thing?”

Donghyuck fully stops in his tracks. “What?”

Jaemin looks extremely flustered now in front of his friend. “She kind of ended it a month ago. But we used to, um, be together all the time.”

“Be together how?” Donghyuck narrows his eyes.

“I don’t need to spell it out for you, Donghyuck.”

He folds his arms across his chest. “I think you do. As far as I know, Y/N barely has any friends as is so I find is unbelievable that she would open herself up to you.”

Jaemin flushes at the implication, recalling exactly how many times you’ve ‘opened up to him.’ He hasn’t caught any feelings for you and he knows it goes the same way around, but your friendship from before is completely broken. You two can barely be in the same room together without feeling the tension.

“You don’t know her very well then,” Jaemin remarks, wanting to end the conversation as quickly as possible. He honestly didn’t know Donghyuck expressed an interest in you until now. “Let’s forget about what I said and have a good after party, okay?”

Jaemin tugs Donghyuck along but Donghyuck can’t stop thinking about you.

Specifically, you underneath the blonde boy, moaning and thrashing in his hold while Jaemin relentlessly pounds into your tight hole.

Fuck.

—

“Sorry, we’re saving this seat for- What the fuck?!”

Jeno and Yangyang are both floored by their friend’s new appearance, wide eyed as Donghyuck takes his seat next to them in the Great Hall. The Slytherin boy says nothing, diving into his breakfast without a word.

Jeno leans closer to him and whispers. “Who are you?”

Donghyuck glares at him. When he found out about you and Jaemin on Saturday, he had a little bit of a meltdown. His roommate, Shotaro, watched in confusion as Donghyuck paced back and forth for hours. Shotaro was even more befuddled when Donghyuck made the impulse decision to buy blonde hair dye, matching the same shade as Jaemin’s.

He didn’t expect to look so different, but with the way Jeno and Yangyang were staring at him, it was as if he became another person.

“I wanted to do something new,” Donghyuck shrugs, offering his explanation. The two of them are silent after that, both exchanging glances with one another.

Yangyang clears his throat after a few minutes. “Did you lose a dare?”

“No,” Donghyuck hisses. “What? Don’t I look good?”

Both of them avert their gaze and Donghyuck narrows his eyes. His stare wanders over to the Ravenclaw table, where you’re currently eating with Renjun and Jisu. His heart thumps in his chest while he watches you giggle at something your roommate said, leaning on her side for support. His trance is broken by the person he wants to see the least.

“Woah. What happened to you?”

Jaemin takes his seat next to Yangyang, eyebrows raised at Donghyuck’s new look.

“Nothing.”

His curt response makes Jaemin even more amused, and Jeno chuckles.

“Maybe Y/N likes blonde guys. Remember, Jaem? When you two were in the library and you said-“

Jaemin throws his fork at Jeno and hits him square in the forehead, causing the Hufflepuff to immediately glare and lunge for the Slytherin across the table. Yangyang tries his best to break the two up while Donghyuck’s mind drifts to Jeno’s statement.

The library? The place where you’re holed up all day, studying to get the best grades in every single subject? Did you let Jaemin take you against one of the bookshelves? Did you sit on his cock while you both pretended to read at the table.

Fuck. You were far from the good girl he always pictured you as.

Donghyuck stands wordlessly, ignoring Jeno and Jaemin’s squabble as he walks out of the Great Hall. He finds himself sitting at your table in the library, patiently waiting for your arrival. He doesn’t give a fuck about attending classes today, he needs to know the answers to his questions.

And so he waits. Surprisingly, he actually manages to get some studying done. Maybe the library wasn’t so bad.

He finally sees you during lunch period, watching as you walk in and smile softly at those who pass you. Your figure immediately retreats to the Potions section, and Donghyuck is quick to follow after you. He spots you standing on your tiptoes trying to grab one of the textbooks on the top shelf.

He approaches you with light footsteps, and you jump five feet in the air when you hear his voice.

“Did you do it here?”

“W-What?”

Donghyuck’s eyes are glazed over, dark as they scrutinize you. You feel small underneath his heavy gaze, and you try to ignore the beam of pleasure that shoots straight to your core. You almost didn’t recognize him with his newly dyed hair, and you won’t deny that he looks fucking hot.

He takes a step closer to you, trapping your body between him and the bookshelf. You shudder when he runs his finger down your arm.

“Did you lift your skirt up for Jaemin here? Let him take you in public?”

You gulp, avoiding his eyes. “H-How do you know about that?”

He growls, and the sound causes a gush of wetness to seep out of your core. “So it’s true? Little Ravenclaw princess is nothing but a common whore? Pretends to be all studious but ends up getting railed for everyone to see?”

You whimper. “It’s not like that- I-“

Your voice catches in your throat when his hand drifts up the expanse of your thighs, fingers dangerously close to your dripping cunt. You quickly survey the area, afraid someone will see the both of you. Most students are eating lunch in the Great Hall but there are still a select few who have chosen their studies over meals. When you did this with Jaemin, it was well past curfew and the library was completely empty.

Despite the fact that you could get caught at any time, it only makes you want him more.

“Touch me, please,” you beg, gripping his forearm.

His eyebrows shoot up at your immediate compliance. “You really are just a little slut, aren’t you? So fucking needy. Before this, you wouldn’t even give me the time of day. You’re just that desperate, aren’t you? Want your small pussy to be filled?”

You quickly nod, way past the point of preserving your dignity.

He flips you over, pressing your cheek against the wood. You whine when his fingers run over your clothed slit.

“So wet, baby,” he whispers, trying his best to conceal your garbled moans with his hand. “Is this for me? Or for Jaemin?”

“For you,” you choke out. “For you, Hyuck.”

He groans at the nickname, moving your panties aside and pushing a finger into you. Your mouth opens in a silent cry as your fingers dig into the shelves. Donghyuck’s breath is hot and heavy in your ear, and he can’t believe you’re letting him take you like this. He wonders what would happen if word got around to your father, who would fail Donghyuck in Potions for sure.

He doesn’t really care at this point, especially when your warm walls are clenching around his finger.

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, pushing another digit inside. “Want to see you fall apart, baby.”

His other hand comes up to tug at your hair so he can see your expression. You already look completely fucked out and he’s barely done anything to you. He knows he doesn’t have a lot of time before the next period starts, so he quickly moves to unbuckle his belt. His fingers slip out of you and you cry at the loss.

You get more excited at the sound and he chuckles. “Dreamed about this for years,” he whispers. “This pussy is mine now, baby. Won’t let anyone else have it.”

You feel his tip prodding at your entrance, and he waits for your go-to. You decide to slip it in yourself, reaching to grasp his base and push back on his cock. He’s thicker than you thought, and the stretch fills you whole.

Once Donghyuck realizes how desperate you really are, his hands fly to your hips, bottoming out inside you. You both groan lowly, his length pressing against your sweet spot.

He’s about to start thrusting until he hears voices approaching. You both start to panic, and Donghyuck quickly directs you to grab a book from the top shelf while he rearranges his robes. To anyone else, it looks like Donghyuck is helping you grab a book, maybe just a little closer than normal.

Three Hufflepuff students pass by, heading to the History of Magic section of the library. They pay no attention to you two, and Donghyuck sighs in relief. You, however, are still wanting a nice fuck.

You whine and clench around his cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he hisses. “We almost got caught but you don’t care, do you?”

You shake your head and he chuckles lowly. He resumes fucking you, trying his best to keep his grunts to a minimum. It’s difficult, especially when the sound of his balls slapping against your ass increases in volume.

His hands move around your middle, pulling you closer to his chest. “Please,” you beg.

“Baby wants to cum?” You frantically nod and he laughs breathily. His fingers grip your breast over your tight button up shirt, tilting your head so he can kiss you. His tongue slips into your mouth and you whine, driving closer and closer to the edge.

You fall before you know it, Donghyuck trying to keep you quiet as you orgasm around him. The feeling of you creaming around his cock brings him waves of pleasure, and he tries to pull out of you until you stop him.

“Inside,” you plead.

He short circuits at your request, mind going blank. He cums without warning, shooting ribbons of his cum deep inside your waiting womb. You moan at the feeling of him filling you up.

When you both come to, he kisses your neck.

“You’re such a dream,” he mumbles. “Can you stop ignoring me now?”

You laugh. He helps you look presentable, pulling your panties back on even though his cum leaks out of your hole. He rearranges your skirt and tucks himself back into his pants.

You turn around and kiss him.

“You’re really hot when you play Quidditch.”

He smirks. “I knew it.”

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes. Then, your voice grows small. “Can we do this again tonight?”

He grins. He wraps an arm around your waist and presses his lips to yours again.

“Are you mine? Not Jaemin’s?”

You scoff. “I just let you cum inside me. I never let Jaemin do that.”

His eyes sparkle. “Good girl.”

(bonus scene because i’m horny)

“Where are you going?”

Jisu raises an eyebrow at you as you grab one of the candles from your nightstand, ready to meet Donghyuck. You shrug and smile at her.

“Getting some good dick.”

She giggles and winks at you. “Sounds fun. Be safe!”

You slip out of your room quietly, trying your best to be as silent as possible. You’ve snuck out many times before after curfew, being able to tell your Ravenclaw prefects that you desperately needed to cram some extra studying in. They all thought you wouldn’t receive any major discipline anyways since your father was the Potions professor.

You sneak into the Slytherin common room, using the password Donghyuck gave you earlier. The Slytherin prefects were both asleep on the ground, as expected.

Donghyuck waited for you on the sleek emerald couch, smiling as he spotted you. He patted his thighs so you could take your seat, and you giggled, placing the candle on the table and sitting in his lap.

“Missed me?” He murmured, wrapping his arms around you and pressing kisses to the side of your neck.

“Saw you like two hours ago.”

He frowns. “And you haven’t missed me since then?”

You roll your eyes and whine. “Hurry. Want your cock.”

“Will you let me take you to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

“If you win the next Quidditch game.”

He smirks. “Deal.”

You quickly move to unbuckle his belt, sinking to your knees as he watches you carefully. You moan when his cock springs up, tip bright and red. He’s heavy in your hand when you take him, licking a stripe up from his base to the tip. He groans when you bring his head into your mouth, sucking gently.

Holy fuck. You deepthroat him in no time, sinking down on his cock until you choke. He watches with hazy eyes as you struggle to suck him, his length filling your windpipe.

“Too big for you, baby? Can’t handle my big cock?”

You shake your head in defiance. You start bobbing your head up and down, determined to give him the best blowjob of his life. Donghyuck’s eyes dart up when he hears the sound of a door creaking, locking eyes with Jaemin. You haven’t heard anything — too preoccupied with sucking his dick.

Jaemin’s eyes widen when he spots you two before he smiles, throwing Donghyuck a wink and a thumbs up. He retreats back to his room and Donghyuck can’t take the wait any longer.

“Hands and knees.”

You pull away from him, spit dribbling down the side of your mouth. You follow his orders, pulling down your pajama pants and bending over the side of the couch. He delivered a harsh slap to your cheek, and you whimper.

“Pretty girl,” he praises as he lines himself up to your entrance. “Little cock hungry cumslut. What would people say if they saw you? Good Ravenclaw desperate for cum?”

“Want them to see me,” you blubber. “Want them to see how well I take your cock.”

He grunts. “Fuck. Dirty little minx.”

He practically rips your panties in half, fingers digging into your flesh as he takes the first thrust. Is it even possible that his cock grew bigger? He’s hitting your sweet spot with no problem from this angle, sending sparks flying in your tummy. You swear you can feel him in your throat if it was possible.

“Take my cock, baby,” he hisses. “Fuck. See what I do for you? Been chasing after you for years thinking you were a little innocent schoolgirl but turns out I just needed to give you my cock and then you would be all mine. Even dyed my hair to this stupid fucking color for you.”

“I-I like y-your hair,” you cry.

“Yeah? Because it looks just like Jaemin’s, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t give a fuck about Jaemin. Only want you.”

He’s satisfied by your answer and moves his hand down to pinch your clit. The sensation sends you flying into your first orgasm and you sob as you cum around his cock.

He slips out of you, sitting down on the couch and patting his thighs again. “Come on. Show me how much you want it.”

Shakily, you rise and straddle Donghyuck’s hips, slowly sinking down on him. His girth stretches you even more as you ride him, twisting and turning your hips until you feel the burn. You don’t care if you look like a needy slut at this point — he’s made you this way.

You never fucked Jaemin with this much fervor, usually letting him lazily thrust into you before you both reach your climax. He also never stared at you the way Donghyuck is looking at you now, eyes dark as he watches you fall apart on his cock.

“Gonna cum again, baby?”

“Y-Yes,” you answer back, closing your eyes as you feel pleasure overtake your body. You can barely think straight as he fucks you so good.

You orgasm again before you fully realize it, wetness dripping down your thighs and onto his cock.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he groans. “Where do you want my cum?”

“Inside, inside,” you respond, observing as he chases his own high. He stills inside of you, cumming deep inside your tummy.

You kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth while you feel his cum drip out of you.

“I better win that Quidditch game.”

You giggle. “You better.”

“What’s gonna happen if you get pregnant?”

You shrug. “I’m taking those muggle pills Jisu gave me so I think we’re fine. It’s not like it’s going to stop you from cumming inside me anyway.”

“True. Second round in the Astronomy Tower?”

“I can barely walk.”

“I’ll carry you.”

#nct smut #haechan smut #hyuck #nct scenarios

3K notes · View notes

bestiesenpai · 3 years ago

Text

Hocus Pocus - Sukuna

Boil toil and trouble, let's make this cauldron bubble lol gender neutral reader no content warnings! This is a...I guess medieval sort of au lol Sukuna is a knight and there’s kings and queens and blah blah

“(Y/N)!” Shrill voices rang throughout the empty stone walls, the pattering of little feet causing you to break your concentration from the glass vase you were holding over a smoking cauldron. Turning to the heavy wooden doors as they were thrown open, you held the vase in the air as two children scampered into the room and began to tug on your clothes.

“What do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Laughing breathlessly, you looked down at the royal children that had decided to come spend time with you.

“We want to play!”

“Right now?” Taking a sweeping look over your messy workshop, you felt them begin to try and pull you from the room. “Alright, alright! Just a moment.” There was no stopping the children when they wanted something, especially from you.

Closing your spell books and setting down bubbling beakers, you pushed the kids out of the room, closing the door tightly behind you. Letting them guide you towards their playroom, you took a deep breath, pushing down the slight irritation growing from being pulled away from your work. There’s no way the King and Queen would appreciate you losing your temper or simply saying ‘no’, even if you did have studying to do to become a proper witch and not a simple apprentice.

Walking through the halls of the castle, you shared pleasant smiles with the more senior witches talking amongst themselves. Their robes were the rich and vibrant colors of the kingdom, a stark contrast to your plain black robe and a strong reminder of how far you still needed to go.

Coming upon the playroom, you winced as they threw open the door and made the metal knob bang against the stone wall and shocking the other occupant in the room.

“Sukuna! Sukuna! We got (Y/N) to play too!” They yelled, finally letting go of your robes as they ran to the intrepid knight who looked ridiculously out of place sitting on a tiny chair surrounded by stuffed animals in the light pastel room. He turned to you and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at how annoyed he seemed with the whole thing. He was still in his armor, so you figured the children had pulled him away in the middle of his business as well.

“Oh how fun.” Sukuna said, clearly less than enthused about this whole thing. His pink hair was sticking out in all sorts of directions and he ran his hand through it once more, the clinking of his cold and shiny armor differing greatly with the softness that filled the room.

The children paid him no mind, rushing further into the room and grabbing toys and throwing them into the middle of the room. Talking animatedly amongst themselves, you used the opportunity to slowly walk over to Sukuna.

“So, what were you doing when they got you?” You whispered, taking a seat next to him in another tiny chair.

“Fucking training.” Nudging the sword at his side, Sukuna let out a gruff sound. “As you know, a war might be brewing in the East and-”

“There’s always a war brewing.”

“Exactly!” Throwing his hands in the air, Sukuna missed the way you chuckled softly. “I don’t have time to entertain these brats, I don’t even know why they had me join!”

“I don’t understand how your fellow knights let you get away from them.” Sukuna was one of the castle's best knights after all, having been praised countless times by the King himself and bestowed with many medals and honors.

“They thought it was a joke! Thought it was funny to see the brats pulling me away and I couldn’t say anything.” He scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

“Well, it is a little funny to think about. The Great Sukuna defeated and captured by two eight year olds.”

He rolled his eyes, but you could see the small upward curve of his lips even though he tried to hide it. You were pleased to notice him relaxing a bit, willing to converse with you as the kids ran around, completely forgetting the two of you were even there. Sukuna was usually so stiff around you, talking in short sentences and barely looking in your direction; always preoccupied with the thought of battle.

“(Y/N)! Caspian won’t let me play with this thing!”

“I had it first!” You turned to see them fighting over one of the vials from your room, recklessly pulling it back and forth and nudging the cork out of place. The shimmering purple liquid sloshed inside, threatening to drip out of the glass and splash all over the two of them. Jumping up, you ran over to the kids before they could open the bottle by mistake and cause a disaster.

“Caspian! Give that to me now!” You yelled after pulling them away from each other. The boy shook his head, holding it away from you. You groaned, taking a deep breath before kneeling to him, holding your hand out. “Caspain, please, it’s very important that I get that back.”

“Kid, just hand it over.” No longer having the patience to deal with this, Sukuna got up from his seat, taking long strides over to you. He grabbed the boy’s wrist as gently as he knew how, attempting to yank the vial out of his hand, but Caspain tightened his grip.

“No, it’s mine!” A small struggle ensued between the two with Caspian pushing and squirming to try and get away and Sukuna attempting to be as merciful as possible to try and get the vial.

“It’s not yours and you know it. Return it.” Sukuna was growing more annoyed by the second. He could easily overpower this kid and end this silly squabble but if he was too rough there were sure to be consequences.

“Be careful, don’t spill it!” Standing off to the side, your eyes were focused on the vial, anxiety rising every time it was yanked from one side to the other. Your cries went ignored, drowned out by them shouting at one another.

“Here!” Pulling the cork out, Caspian hurled the vial right at Sukuna’s face, coating him in the liquid. The glass clattered to the ground, quickly getting crushed into tiny shards as Sukuna stumbled in shock.

“What the-” Wiping furiously at his face, Sukuna could hardly open his eyes. The liquid evaporated on his skin, leaving behind a tingling burn.

“Caspian!” You exclaimed, glaring at the boy and running to Sukuna. The pungent odor of the potion burned your nostrils and forced tears to well in your eyes.

“What is this stuff?” Biting back the swear that desperately wanted to come out, Sukuna looked blindly around the room.

“It’s- well-”

“Out with it!” Sukuna barked, shoving you away. He felt like he was going to vomit, head swimming as he fell to his knees.

“Sukuna has kitty ears!” Caspian’s sister, Caroline, shouted in surprise.

“No I don’t!”

“Yes you do!” She pushed but it went unheard, overshadowed by the pained scream that ripped out of Sukuna’s chest. Writhing on the ground for what felt like ages, the pain slowly subsided and he was left breathing raggedly.

“Hello?” Opening his eyes, Sukuna was shrouded in darkness. Fabric covered his face and body; they were his clothes, he could smell that much, but he had no idea where he was.

“Sukuna? Are you okay?” Tiptoeing over to him, you nudged the armor now sitting on the ground in the shape of what used to be Sukuna’s body. Tiny claws tapped against the metal and a pink haired cat's head popped out of the top opening.

“(Y/N)?”

“Oh my god.” You placed a hand against your chest in shock, watching in horror as Sukuna wrestled himself out of his armor, angrily cursing his new height without really looking at himself.

“Kitty!” Caroline yelled, immediately crowding him and trying to pick him up. Keeping her at arm's length, you scooped up Sukuna’s new cat form into your arms and held him tightly to you.

“Kitty?!” Sukuna yelled, looking down at his body being cradled by you. “(Y/N), what the hell happened?!”

“Uhm, well it seems Caspian threw a metamorphosis potion at you...” Trailing off, you winced as Sukuna let out a growing hiss.

“Is that why I’m a fucking cat right now?” You nodded pitifully and he groaned. “Fucking brats.” Giving the two of them a look, Sukuna pushed himself up on shaky arms and crawled up onto your shoulder, digging his claws slightly into you as he settled around your neck. “The King and Queen will be furious to know what you’ve done.”

“(Y/N) can fix it!” Caroline shouted, trying to save them both from getting in trouble.

“Um, I guess I-”

“No, no they can’t.” Sukuna cut you off, sitting up a little straighter and letting a smug grin overtake his face. “You know (Y/N) is only an apprentice, do you really think they can fix this?” Letting a pause fall over the conversation, Sukuna tilted his head, his ears tickling your cheek. “You know how hard magic is to control, what if no one can turn me back to a human? Your parents will be enraged knowing they lost their best warrior to a pair of little brats.”

“Okay!” Slapping his hands over his ears, Caspian stomped his feet a few times. “We’ll fix it! What do we have to do?”

“There’s a list of ingredients I need to reverse this spell.” Pulling out the pen and pad of paper you were required to always have on hand, you scribbled down a few random items without thinking too hard about it. “Go get me these by the end of the day and we’ll have human Sukuna back in no time!”

“Let’s go!” Grabbing her brother's hand, Caroline ran from the room, ripping the paper from your grasp as she went. The door to the playroom banged against the wall again as they exited and left you and Sukuna alone.

“Well now that they’re occupied for a bit, go ahead and change me back, (Y/N).” Jumping onto the ground, Sukuna shook his head side to side and sat on the ground, his long tail swishing back and forth lazily.

“About that…” Wringing your hands together painfully tight, you could barely look at Sukuna.

“What?” His eyes narrowed, sensing your hesitation.

“I just, well I-”

“Out with it!” A loud hiss spurred you into speaking, along with Sukuna arching his back angrily.

“I can’t do it! That potion the kids took was a fluke to begin with, I’m surprised it even changed you into a cat and didn’t just burn your eyebrows off!” God it felt embarrassing admitting that Sukuna had essentially been right when he was calling the kids bluff. There wasn’t much more you could do on your own other than light a candle with your mind and make paperclips levitate.

“Okay, it’s not that bad. We can get one of your seniors to do it.” Starting toward the door, Sukuna let out a shriek when you scooped him up.

“No, we can’t do that! They’ll never let me live it down!” Holding him tightly, you felt his claws dig into your arms and hands. “L-let me figure it out, please!”

“You just said you couldn’t do it, why would I let you ‘figure it out’ when I can get changed back within a few minutes?”

“Please, just let me try! I have to prove myself!”

“Is this really the time for that? There’s a war-”

“Sukuna, there’s always a war! That’s all you ever talk about!” Yanking his claws out of the skin of your arm, you huffed and tried to calm the burning of your cheeks. “Just give me until the end of the day, please? I can fix you by the end of the day.”

Breathing heavily as well, Sukuna raked his eyes over you. There wasn’t much he knew about you other than you were another fledging witch scouted by the kingdom and that this was the most you’d ever spoken to each other directly and not in a group setting. It wasn’t just Sukuna who was stiff in conversations, it was you as well.

“Fine.” Worming his way out of your hold and back onto the ground, Sukuna swiped at his face a few times to fix the fur around his eyes. “If I’m not a human by nightfall, I’m going to your mentor.”

“Deal.” Nodding your head in agreement, you gestured toward the door. “Shall we go back to my study?”

“Lead the way.” Falling into step next to you, Sukuna walked down the halls to a part of the castle he never really visited. While he was marveling at some of the magic happening behind doorways, you were worrying your lip and praying with every step you took that you could actually find a way to turn him back.

“Nice little shop you got here.” Sukuna commented upon coming to your study. Truly it was nothing more than a glorified broom closet, just enough space for a bookshelf, cauldron, a few shelves and a tiny desk shoved in the corner piled high with a mountain of notes you’d scribbled down late at night.

“Thanks.” Your room looked like all the other beginner witch's rooms, but it felt nice for Sukuna to compliment it all the same. Clearing off a space on the small table beside your cauldron for Sukuna to sit on, you went to the bookshelf to try and find a spell to turn him back.

Taking sneaking glances at you, Sukuna went up to the edge of the cauldron, sniffing the vapors that rose from the bubbling liquid. Curling his lip in disgust at the pungent odor, he hopped off the table. Too engrossed in your books, you set down a few on the spot he’d previously been occupying.

“(Y/N), what’re these papers on your desk?” Glancing over, Sukuna had leapt onto the furniture, gently swiping his paw at some papers and making them slide from the messy stack they were in.

“Just some notes from my lessons, I have a test coming up in a potions class and I really can’t afford to fail.” Shaking your head bitterly at the upcoming deadline, you turned your attention back to the book in your hand.

Glancing over a few, Sukuna found that you were correct, there were scribbles on pages and in the margins of textbooks cramming all possible information into them.

“What’s this…?” Catching the first few letters of his name on a paper that was crinkled up and folded several times, Sukuna felt his curiosity grow greater and greater.

Struggling to open it with his new appendages, Sukuna eventually got it open. At first, he wasn’t sure where to look, there were love hearts dotting nearly every letter and a hundred exclamation points. As he read and deciphered the words on the page, he started to laugh to himself. The person who you’d been passing notes to was gushing about another knight named Okkotsu and his kind demeanor all while teasing you for liking none other than Sukuna.

“So (Y/N), you have a crush on me?” He asked loudly, just barely catching the slightest hesitation in your body at his question.

“What’re you talking about?” Fighting to keep your face neutral, you sprinkled a blue powder into the cauldron.

“This note here says you’ve had a crush on me since you arrived at the palace and I’m pretty confident this is your handwriting.” Sukuna could practically see your heart begin to race the longer he spoke and a grin overtook his face.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nervously clearing your throat, you shook your head and closed the book in your hand. Taking a glance at him, your face fell slightly at seeing his paw holding the note open.

“Really? No clue at all? Maybe I should read it out loud and jog your memory.” If Sukuna’s smile got any bigger it would rip his cheeks apart. “Now where should I begin? How about this line, ‘Sukuna is so sexy when he does training in the evening! I love that he never wears a shirt, you can see all his tattoos!’”

“Shut up!” Throwing the remaining objects in your hand onto the table, you lunged towards him and the note. Cackling with laughter, Sukuna snatched the paper into his mouth and leaped off the desk, running circles around you in the room.

“I’m so sexy, you want me to kiss you!” He teased you mercilessly as you chased after him, reciting every embarrassing word you wrote. “You love my morning voice when I pass by you at breakfast!”

“Sukuna! Stop it!” Your entire body was on fire the longer he went and frustrated tears welled in your eyes. It was bad enough you had a crush on the most popular knight in the kingdom but to have him know about it so deeply was another blow to your ego entirely. Grabbing your wand out of a robe pocket, you let out a small shout and pointed it at him, hoping that was enough to get him to stop.

And surprisingly it was; Sukuna suddenly froze all movement, hanging in the air above the cauldron that he was trying to leap over. Stomping over to him, you ripped the note out of his mouth and tore it to shreds, letting the pieces flutter to the ground at your feet. Glaring at Sukuna with glassy eyes, you mumbled a short incantation and released him from the spell, making him plop into the cauldron below.

Sukuna let out incomprehensible screams of terror as he splashed around in the cauldron, struggling to grab any sort of footing on the side and pull himself out.

“(Y/N)! G-get me out of here!” Coughing at the liquid entering his mouth, Sukuna hooked an arm around the edge of the cauldron and tried to pull himself up only to be burned by the hot metal.

“I’ll think about it!” Crossing your arms, you kept your back turned to him. His mocking words rang in your head over and over, nearly drowning out his frantic cries. Quickly growing tired of the noise, you grabbed him by the back of the neck and yanked him from the cauldron, letting him fall to the ground in a sopping wet mess of fur.

“Took you long enough!” Sukuna sputtered, shaking himself violently to try and dry off. Unable to fully look at him, you slammed open the book you’d had open before and leaned over it, blocking out the world around you and forcing the words on the page into your head.

“(Y/N), do you have a towel around here?” Your head nearly turned on instinct to answer Sukunas question, a small twitch in your neck almost giving way to a full turn. “Oh c’mon, don’t ignore me.” His paw swiped the back of your leg and you shook him off.

“(Y/N), stop being a baby.” Touching you again, Sukuna grunted and rolled his eyes when you fully stepped away from him. “(Y/N)! I’m freezing down here with this wet fur, quit fucking around.”

“Find one yourself.” You snapped at him, storming over to your desk and plopping down on the chair. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Sukuna weighing his options, looking between you and the door behind him. You could almost see the gears turning in his head as he debated on what to say.

“If I apologize, will that make you feel better?” He asked, earning a snort from you and making a smirk pass briefly on his face. “The Great Sukuna doesn’t apologize often, so listen closely, okay?”

“I won’t hold my breath.” Rolling your eyes, you relaxed the tight crease in your brow and let your back straighten up a little, no longer hunching over the desk. Clearing his throat dramatically, Sukuna padded over with wet paws and stopped before your chair.

“I’m sorry I teased you about having a crush on me, but in my defense who wouldn’t be hopelessly in love with me?”

“Is that really your apology?” Biting your lip to stop a burgeoning smile, you forced your eyes back on your paper.

“What do you want me to say? Oh (Y/N), please forgive me for learning about your everlasting love for me, I’ll conquer a hundred enemy fortresses if that’s what it’ll take!” Swaying side to side dramatically, Sukuna laughed as he made a chuckle force it’s way past your lips.

“Fine, I guess I’ll forgive you.” Rolling your eyes once more, you did a quick wave of your hand and a sharp gust of wind went over Sukuna, drying his fur in an instant.

“Just like new.” Walking in a few circles, Sukuna surveyed his body and without warning, jumped into your lap, making space for himself and looking over the book you were reading.

“Make yourself comfortable.” Adjusting in your chair, you had to move Sukunas bobbing head out of the way several times to continue to read. “Sukuna, do you even know how to read this?” The book was written in strange symbols only able to be read and understood by those imbued magical prowess.

“No, but it’s pretty interesting to look at.” Shrugging his shoulder, he let his chin rest on the edge of the pages. Quietly reading over the book, you had to shuffle Sukuna in your lap a few times, adjusting him over and over again until you were practically cradling him with one arm and turning pages with the other.

“I could get used to this.” Sukuna yawned loudly, a purr rumbling from his chest. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that his heavy, muscular feline form had made your arm fall asleep and become completely dead to the world.

A few minutes later and a soft snoring filtered out of Sukuna, a gentle sound to fill the room bathed in warm afternoon sun. The tiny window above your desk showed a sliver of the outside world, overgrown trees skirting the edge of the window pane and attempting to obstruct your view of distant mountain ranges.

Forcing deep breaths through your nose, you couldn’t stave off the drowsiness creeping into your body as well. Every blink made your eyelids heavier and the words on the page began to blur together until you couldn’t fight sleep anymore and let your head lean against the chair, joining Sukuna in a light afternoon nap.

It was you that woke up first, thirty minutes later and with a foggy mind. Surprisingly, Sukuna hadn’t woken up from the sound of a door slamming closed across the hall, still sleeping soundly as ever in your arms.

Looking over him, you noticed the markings across his face and body, tattoos that carried over from his human form. Tracing your finger along his face, you were enraptured by the soft fur that met your touch and continued along his body. Fully petting the length of Sukuna’s body, you prodded his soft, relaxed stomach and scratched gently with the tip of your nail.

“That feels nice.” He mumbled, barely awake and cuddling deeper into your side. Despite feeling embarrassed at being caught you kept going, expanding upwards and rubbing along his ribs and chest.

“Sukuna you’re so cute as a cat, are you sure you want to change back?”

“As much as I love being pet like this, I have a duty to my kingdom.” Stretching his legs out, Sukuna grunted like he was going to get up but gave up halfway, flopping back and letting out a soft sigh.

“You don’t seem to be in any rush to get back.” You chuckled, scratching behind his ears and smiling widely when he began to purr.

“Well…” Pushing his head against your hand, Sukuna shrugged. “They’ll be fine without me for a little bit.”

There was a pregnant pause before he spoke again, filled with his loud purring and soft breathing. “You know, I haven’t slept this well in ages. Always too busy with training or going to battle.” Blinking his eyes slowly, Sukuna peered up at you. “Maybe I should become a witch like you, (Y/N), then I could relax like this all the time.”

“You’re kidding; me, relax? I’m constantly on edge, there’s so much pressure to break my back for the kingdom and become the strongest sorcerer.” Slumping against the chair, your head lolled back and you stared at the dark stone ceiling. “I’d love to trade places with you Sukuna, I want to know what it’s like to be so strong and confident all the time.”

“It’s pretty great, I won’t lie.” He mumbled under his breath and you laughed, jostling him around as you straightened up your spine.

“You’ll have to teach me sometime, okay?” Standing up and opening your arms, you haphazardly placed Sukuna on the desk and walked over to the cauldron, cracking the bones in your back and looking over the ingredients you’d put in so far. “Now, let’s turn you back into a human.”

“(Y/N).” Sukuna said your name slowly, hopping from the desk to the table by the cauldron and slinking past forgotten vials to settle close at your side. “Mind if I watch?”

“Why?” It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to but unless Sukuna was suddenly granted the gift of magic the recipe you were following would be of no use to him.

“I want to know what it’s like to be the smartest in the room.” Sukuna grinned at you, bumping his nose against your arm a few times.

“Shut up.” A light flush went over your face and warmed your cheeks, and a slightly impish smile pushed your cheeks up. The compliment warmed your heart just as much, making it beat faster in your chest.

“Shut up and take notes? Got it.” Nodding curtly, Sukuna squinted his eyes and stared intensely at your hands. Laughing wholeheartedly at how serious he looked, you did a dramatic wave of your hand and picked up a spellbook.

“Alright, watch and learn.”

Whether or not Sukuna was actually learning anything or truly paying attention was lost on you, but it was certainly fun having him so focused on you and your actions. Humming and nodding like he understood when you mumbled to yourself, Sukuna was acting just like you had when you first arrived at the palace with bright eyes and an eager mind.

“Try this.” Pouring a mixture into a jar, you tilted it back for Sukuna to drink from.

“Fucking disgusting!” Wrenching himself away, Sukuna spit the bright yellow liquid onto the ground and watched it sizzle. “Are you trying to poison me now?”

“Wha- but I was so sure that was the right one!” Scrapping the jar, you returned to the book. “Maybe I need spider legs after all…”

“You need me to go out into the garden and catch you some?” Still reeling from the rancid taste in his mouth, Sukuna glanced out the window. The light in the sky was beginning to wind down, it was almost dinner time and his stomach was starting to growl.

“No, I-”

“(Y/N)!” An all too familiar voice shouted your name and you got flashbacks to just a few hours before when your door was slammed open and two children ran inside.

“Oh great, the royal brats.” Snarling at the kids, Sukuna leapt up and onto your shoulder, curling himself around your neck and burrowing into the collar of your robes. Flinching away from him, Caroline and Caspian hesitantly showed you what was clenched tightly in their small hands.

“We got all the stuff on the list!” Caroline showed hers first, a handful of daisies and a small chunk of amethyst.

“Caroline was too much of a baby to get the other stuff.” Caspian huffed, extending his palm out and showcasing the dead spiders and newt eyeballs.

“I can’t believe it, you two actually listened for once.” You marveled at the ingredients, quickly snatching them up and sorting them out on the table.

“Took you long enough.” Sukuna huffed. “Now go get my clothes from that stupid playroom!”

“Okay!” And away the two of them went, rushing down the hall with echoing footsteps. Flipping pages in a book you’d cast aside, you read it over and put in all the ingredients they had brought.

“This spell really is the one to turn you back to a human. God, I feel like an idiot, the answer was right in front of me!” Kicking yourself internally, you looked at your stash of ingredients; you had all the things the kids had brought you already at your disposal.

Right as Sukuna was about to speak, his clattering armor and underclothes made an appearance in the room, clattering to the ground as the kids struggled to carry it all inside. Laying out his clothes for him, you poured the new potion into a glass.

“Turn around children, I don’t want you to see something you shouldn’t.” With a chorus of giggles behind you, you even covered your eyes as you held the glass to Sukuna’s lips. “Try and jump onto the ground after you drink it all, I don’t want you breaking the table.”

“Got it.” Sukuna was better prepared for the transformation this time, swallowing all of the potion and gritting his teeth at the discomfort coursing through him. When you felt the glass was empty, you turned around to give him privacy.

Holding your breath and crossing your fingers, every fiber of your being was hoping and praying that Sukuna returned to normal. You heard clothing rustle and armor clanking, but you didn’t open your eyes until a heavy human hand landed on your shoulder.

“I’m back!” Sukuna cheered, flexing the muscles in his body and tightening the various straps on his clothing. He’d forgon putting his armor back on, opting to wear just the loose green tunic and pants that he had on underneath.

“We did it!” The children cheered as well, clapping and smiling.

“You two were the whole cause of this mess! You should be cheering for (Y/N) for saving you from a punishment.”

“Thanks (Y/N)!”

“Yeah, you’re the best!” Giving you brief and crushing hugs, the two youths ran from the room, probably off to find other mischief to get into. Letting out a relieved sigh, you began to clean up the table.

“Nice work, (Y/N).” Patting you on the back, Sukuna attempted to help you by gathering all the empty vials.

“It would have been better if I’d just checked that book to begin with. I thought I wrote down those ingredients for them at random, but turns out the answer was so glaringly obvious that of course I missed it.” While it felt good to turn Sukuna back into a human, the knowledge that this could have been done a lot sooner weighed heavily on your mind.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Returning his hand to your back, Sukuna let it rest a bit heavier. “You’re still learning, you’re bound to mess up here and there. But hey, you turned me back in the end!” Smiling at you, Sukuna gave you a half hug, not caring if he crushed you against his chiseled physique.

“Sukuna, that was so nice of you to say, thank you.” Hugging him back, your heart felt like it was going to burst.

“You think so? I’ve been practicing ever since my commanders told me to be softer to the new recruits and give them words of encouragement.”

“Well it’s certainly paid off.” The heat from his body transferred onto yours, making it obvious when you pulled away from each other that your whole body was slowly being set on fire from the sweet words melting your brain.

Cleaning up was quick with Sukuna’s help and before you knew it your workspace was just as messy as before all of this had happened and there was the familiar chatter of other witches walking down the halls towards dinner.

“I guess I’ll see you around.” It was bittersweet knowing Sukuna was leaving to the same place you were but going to sit at completely different places, on opposite sides of the dining hall. You desperately wanted to ask to eat with him, to extend the moment you two were having, but your social rank prevented you from being the one to make the first move.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you going to eat dinner?” Grabbing the door, Sukuna slowly pulled it open, ignoring the shocked looks from passersby as he started to make his exit.

“I am but-”

“Then c’mon, let's go.” With half his body already out the door, Sukuna paused when he saw you weren’t making any move. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, go on without me.”

“I want to go with you.” Quirking a brow, Sukuna swayed on his feet for another moment before getting fed up with waiting and grabbing onto your sleeve, yanking you from your room and into the hall.

All eyes were on you and you knew there would be a lot of questions hurled your way sooner or later about what was going on with the two of you. Someone as high ranking as Sukuna wasn’t seen with new recruits, especially not coming out of their workspaces.

“Now let’s go, I’m fucking starving.” Sliding a hand up to the collar of your robes, Sukuna held a fistful in his hand and made you walk with him down the hall.

“Sukuna, you don’t have to be friendly with me anymore, I already held my end of the deal.”

“Why should I stop? I liked hanging out with you, (Y/N). Unless you don’t want to hang out with me anymore.” His grip softened a little and you grasped his wrist.

“No, I do! I-I really do! It’s just, you’re such a high rank and-”

“So what?”

“So, it’s not really heard of for us to mingle!”

“What’re you talking about, I mingle with witches all the time!”

“Yeah but they’re more senior than I am.” Letting out a sharp grunt, Sukuna stopped abruptly and turned you to face him.

“Fine. (Y/N), as your superior I order you to have dinner with me. Happy now?” Without waiting for an answer, Sukuna began to walk again. “And if you give me any more shit, I’ll make you run up a hundred mountains when I train you.”

“You want to train me?” Sure, witches received some physical training but a majority of your learning was focused on magic.

“I think it’s only fair since I learned a bit of magic today.” Getting into the line to enter the dining hall, Sukuna finally released your collar.

“I’d like to learn from you.” Giving him a bashful smile, you were mentally clearing your schedule in preparation for the day.

“You might fall even more in love with me, I can’t wait to read the notes you pass around about me afterwards.”

“God, you’ll never let me live that down will you?” Slapping your hands over your face, you felt the urge to bang your head against the wall.

“Never.” Laughing at your misfortune, Sukuna nudged you forward and into the dining hall. “Now go get some food, I’ll save my biggest fan a seat next to me at my usual table.” Leaving you all alone and dying of embarrassment, Sukuna walked to a group of other knights, his loud and boisterous voice easily carrying over the others in the room.

Gathering all the pieces of your dinner, you looked out at the massive dining hall, crammed with knights, witches and other civil servants just trying to make it. Scanning over the tables, you could see gaggles of knights but not the one you wanted to see.

“(Y/N)!” Just as you’d given up searching and turned away, Sukuna yelled your name, somehow cutting through all the noise. Looking over your shoulder you saw Sukuna standing on a table and waving at you once you made eye contact. The seat next to him was completely empty, a space big enough for you to sit and eat at.

“C-coming!” You yelled back, unsure if he even heard you until you received a big thumbs up and Sukuna jumped off the table. With scalding cheeks, you gripped your plate tighter and rushed over to the table, eager to spend more time with your new friend.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen au #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines

165 notes · View notes

elius-learns-to-write · 4 years ago

Text

Class Drama and Anger Issues

Hey besties this will contain swearing, violence, catcalling/ sexual harassment, blood and just horrible behaviour so please take care reading this, love you all <3

You had always been very protective of your friends

It wasn’t like you didn’t think they could stand up for themselves

You understood that 100%

However whenever anyone insulted them or talked bad about them you were the first person to throw hands

You were sure that your jaw had locked from how long you had been tensing it. You see, being sat at the back of the classroom was great, you could see everyone and hear everyone. Which means that whenever someone decided to bitch and moan about the people in the little group you had managed to join, that you would be the first person to hear it. Like right now for example, Liz and Peter had broken up a few days ago and she didn’t take it so well and had taken up talking about him behind his back. Which had led us to this: you at the back of the room, fists and jaw clenched in an effort to not walk over to her and her little friends and wipe that smug look right off her face. “And he isn’t even that smart, God knows how he got into Stark industries” nope that was it, that was the last straw. You pushed the stupid science lab chair back so hard it fell to the ground, heads turned to you as you stormed over to where Liz and her group where currently at which just happened to be at the front of the classroom. God, were you lucky that the teacher had left to go grab some more textbooks from some cupboard down the hall, otherwise you would have been dead when you said “Listen Liz. Peter is an amazing and smart boy who cares more for others than he does himself. He works harder than anyone else I know and he still manages to make sure others are okay. He is twice the person you will ever be and if you don't shut up in the next 2 minutes you won’t have to worry about being bitter over a breakup, you’ll be too worried about getting a set of new teeth”. If this was a cartoon steam would be pouring from your ears and your face would be blood red, which wasn’t too far from what you looked like now. Peter had taken a sick day and thank god he had, otherwise he would have killed you for even saying anything, however Ned was still here and he was waiting to see how far you would go before having to step in and calm you down. “Oh how sweet L/n, you think you’re all strong and scary” her and her friends' sickly sweet laughs echoed in your ears as you clenched your fists even harder. “Y/n come on Peter wouldn’t want this” ned tried to reason and even in your rage filled stupor you realised he was right and took a breath to try and calm yourself down “say anything again and you’ll see just how strong and scary I can be” you spat, stroming away, grabbing your bag and walking out of the room just in time for your teacher to walk back in, “where’s L/n?” he asked.

Okay maybe you did tend to overreact

You just really cared about your friends

They were there when you needed them and you wanted to do the same

You couldn’t help it that you got angry when people decided to talk about them

In some situations though it was acceptable to get angry

You, Mj and Betty had been coming back from the Cinema late one night after deciding that you deserved to spend some time together after exam week to treat yourselves. Unfortunately walking through the streets at 10pm meant getting some very unwanted attention from older men. “Hey mama looking good” one man slurred as you walked past him grabbing the girls hands a little tighter in an attempt to ground yourself and reassure them that you would keep them save, “hey don’t be like that, we just want to talk” another man added, honestly what was it with them? Couldn’t they see you obviously didn’t want to “talk” to them. You hadn’t even realised your feet had stopped moving until Betty gently placed her hand on your shoulder and whispered “It’s fine just let it go” and tried to give you a nudge in the direction you had originally been going. “Hey! Don’t just ignore us! We know you want some attention” you didn’t know who had said it and at this point you didn’t care, worrying more about teaching them a thing called respect than about who voiced their unwanted thoughts. Letting go of your friends hands, turning around slowly and walking towards the men with a smile on your face so sweet it was almost scary. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that women aren’t your submissive little toys?” you sung punctuating your sentence with a kick to one guy's nuts and a punch to the other's nose. “Because someone really should” and as the men were recovering from your atack you stalked away along the dimly lit street and continuing your journey to Mj’s house.

Okay so we have clearly established your hatred towards people who disrespect your friends

The Avengers new about your strong feelings and respected the fire that you had

Of course they did have Bruce try and teach you some breathing exercises

Spoiler alert they didn’t help very much

So when Bucky got a call from your school telling him that he would have to pick you up as you were suspended for a week

He couldn’t say he was surprised

“I’m going to pick Y/n up from school, be back in a bit” Bucky called to the rest of the team who had been watching some sort of reality show on the new Tv Tony had no reason to buy but did, “why? What happened?” Steve replied, a look of concern on his face “They got into a fight and so they are suspended for a week” the supersoldier sighed, grabbing the car keys and whispering “what did you do this time Y/n” to himself.

I’ll tell you what happened

You had been on your way to English when you had seen Flash taunting Mj, waving her book above his head and laughing hysterically about something. Instantly you dropped your bag to the floor and stormed over to them “Hey Flash, what are you doing there buddy?” you shouted loud enough to seem intimidating but not loud enough to capture the attention of the teachers and students who were already in class. “None of your business Y/n, move along” he spat back, if looks could kill he would be six feet under and halfway to hell as you ripped the book from his grasp and slammed him into the lockers “really? Because to me it looks like you’re being rude to my good friend Mj and I don’t take that very lightly”. Gripping him by the collar and pushing him even further into the lockers that he was sure his body had made a dent in the metal, however flash was never one to give up like the shaking leaf of a man he was. Pushing you hands off and shoving you by your shoulders he said “aww look Mj your angry little guard dog has come to your rescue again. How sweet” if there was one thing you hated more than stupid boys and disrespect it was being called a dog. You weren’t gonna let him call you that. Quicker than he could say “Don’t hit me” your fist came flying straight into the boy's noise, a satisfying crunch being made upon impact. Now throughout all of this no one had heard the commotion and they wouldn’t have if Flash didn’t scream out in pain and then faint at the sight of his own blood.

That’s how you ended up getting suspended

It was what you had told your dad when he picked you up because you had no reason to lie

No matter how proud of you he was he still gave you a talking to

You both had a long talk about how best to go about controlling your anger and instead of going back to Bruce you decided to take a few anger management classes

And so far it’s going great

(Until flash decides to open his mouth again)

#the avengers #avengers x platonic reader #avengers x teen!reader #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #bruce banner x teen!reader #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x teen!reader #bucky x you #bucky x daughter!reader #mj x reader #mj x you #peter parker x reader #peter x teen!reader #peter parker imagine

392 notes · View notes

writing-in-april · 4 years ago

Text

Kid.

Poe Dameron x Female Reader

Summary: Reader can’t get Poe to stop calling her kid so she’s tries a new method of getting him to stop.

A/N: Hey guys!!! Here’s my sixth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April— I had a really fun time writing this all out lol- I feel like it’s very telling when reading this what I like lol 😂 I hope y’all enjoy it and I’m always looking for feedback or really anything my followers want to talk about- you can send me an ask here- I’d love to hear from y’all 🥰

Warnings: 18+, Age Gap (never specified specifically how large it is), Reader overreacts just a bit, Sub Poe, Smut, Hate fucking, Dry fucking, Oral sex (M receiving), Choking, Edging, Unprotected sex, Creampie

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.4K

Your nerves were alight with frustration and annoyance, your jaw clenched tight enough to give you a small pressure headache. Poe seemed to always know exactly how to push your buttons perfectly. He knew- he knew how you felt about the nickname he had chosen for you. You didn’t know why he continued to call you that, maybe it was just to push your buttons because he thought it was funny or worse because he actually thought of you as inferior to him.

Despite your arguing thoughts trying to tell you that Poe is only doing this to get under your skin, you couldn’t help but get angry every time he said it. You knew he respected all of the younger pilots, maybe he just thought you weren’t as skilled- even though he had complimented your flying skills many times.

You had asked him not to use the nickname over a million times it seemed. It boiled your blood to hear it, making you feel like he didn’t respect you fully because you were somewhat younger than him.

“Hey Kid!” He shouted out as you retreated away from him in pure anger. It didn’t really matter what you had been arguing about, your anger boiled over as soon as you heard the nickname out of his mouth.

You had both just returned from a mission together along with the rest of your squadron that Poe commanded. You were exhausted and Poe just had to get under your nerves at the prime time.

Stomping from the hangar all the way to your rooms was somewhat of a long walk, you encountered people but you brushed them off as quickly as you could. There was no doubt that Poe was hot on your heels, probably in an attempt to make amends. Though every time he promised that he wouldn’t say it again- he of course broke that promise.

Both of your rooms were in the exact same hallway on base, one reserved for upper personnel. If he cared to acknowledge it he’d notice that you’re not the kid he claims that you are, you’re upper personal for fucks sake. You stomped off down the hallway not caring if he followed you or not, you’d just shut the door in his face if he tried to continue.

He did in fact follow you as you suspected, not for the purpose of going to his own room right next to yours. He followed you to continue the argument.

“Come on don’t walk away I just want to talk!” You scoffed, he didn’t want to talk, he wanted to argue. Paying him no mind you pressed the key card in far too hard to woosh open the door to your room.

Somehow Poe managed to scoot in through the door frame just as you were going to close it. Your fists clenched in anger, not wanting to turn to look at him as it would only make the fire in your belly rage more.

“Well- Kid you gonna tell me why you stomped away from me?” He was hunched over breathing heavily from chasing you down. You wanted to stomp your foot in indignation over frustration due to the fact that he absolutely did know why you had stomped away from him. You whipped around to face him finally, annoyed that he was in your room now- just another thing to add to the list of grievances.

“Stop calling me Kid!” He chuckled in response to your fury, just like he always did, acting like your anger was completely unreasonable. Maybe it was, but you were tired of him going against what you had specifically requested.

He was about to retort after he finished chuckling, his mouth opening in a way that was obviously going to become a sassy remark.

You grabbed the front of his flight suit in anger and pushed him onto the cot you slept on every night. Anger was radiating through you, with no intention of abating, you needed to get rid of it somehow.

Instead of screaming like you normally would have you did something you never thought you’d have the guts to do, you kissed him. The kiss wasn’t filled with sweetness, it was hot, heavy, and full of your frustration. He definitely tried to overpower the kiss, yet eventually accepted defeat- maybe for the first time in his life.

“Do you want this? I won’t be gentle.” You asked while holding the front of his flight suit, bringing his face close to yours and holding eye contact. He nodded with a gulp and you released your grip on his orange suit. Nonchalantly you then asked while moving to close the door to your room, “What’s your safe word?”

“I use the color system.” You nodded in confirmation, coming back after shutting the door so you could escape prying eyes. When you moved to straddle his hips you could see his eyes darken further, pupils blown wide in lust.

To start your journey to ruining him you rested your still clothed center to rest right over his growing bulge. Starting with slow light movements seemed to frustrate him, you didn’t care. He wanted to contest your dominance over him, but not too much as he did not move to touch you, waiting for your permission. The only time he allowed himself to move was when you captured his lips into a bruising kiss, bringing his face up to meet yours by your fingers tangled into his inky curls.

He whimpered underneath you as you ground your hips harder into his bulge. There were still many layers of clothing you had yet to take off, you could still firmly feel how hard he was through them all. He tried to reach up to grab your hips, but you didn’t let him get very far. Instead of letting him touch you you took both of his hands and pinned them above his head.

“Maybe I would let you touch me if you behaved.” The sneer in your voice made Poe flinch away and whimper again, though he did not say anything. You then tried to goad him into speaking, “Are you going to apologize to me?”

Despite his pathetic little whimpers that showed you his submission to you he still refused to budge. His head shook back and forth, telling you no to your request. In response to his refusal you scoffed and didn’t give him the satisfaction of a stinging retort for now. Instead you started to grind into him harder with a faster pace that had him close to falling apart in his flight suit.

When you could feel him starting to approach his release, his cock twitching in the flight suit, your movements stopped abruptly. You had to remove one of your hands from where you had them pinned on the cot to slap it over his mouth when a broken cry that would have been too loud tried to escape.

You chuckled darkly at his desperate look, his eyes watering a little, “If you would just apologize I would let you finish.”

He tried to make a noise, but underneath the pressure of your hand it barely made a sound. When I removed my hand his bratty attitude re-emerged, “I won’t apologize.”

His indignation made your jaw tick, he must have been looking for a punishment at this point. It was now your job to make sure you gave him one that he wouldn’t enjoy, otherwise it wouldn’t be a punishment.

You released his hands so you could begin to undress him, his flight suit had a small wet spot on it from his precum. It made you wonder how soaked his boxers were underneath. They were just as wet as you expected. You run your fingers around the spot, making his hips buck a little which you stopped by pushing them down with your other hand.

When you then peeled his boxers off of him along with his flight suit you decided to give him a taste of what he wanted, planning on ripping it away again just as he was about to finish.

You shuffled your body down his until your mouth was resting over his cock, it looked painful to you. Flushed a deep red with precum leaking down his shaft and was hot and heavy in your hands. You didn’t have any plans on letting him finish anytime soon, you couldn’t imagine he could stand it much longer before breaking and giving you an apology.

His fingers twitched at his side when you blew cool air onto his length, you sneered again, “If you touch me I’ll stop.”

He did follow that direction at least, leaving his hands by his side and fisting the sheets. As a slight reward or even more of a punishment from a different perspective you let him feel your mouth around him. Suckling the tip slightly made his toes curl, but he still did not say anything. Maybe he would be harder to break then you thought.

You began to work on him with more effort, using your mouth and hands wrapped around his length to send him close to the edge again.

“Please!” He begged as you took him as far back into your throat as you could, gagging a little each time it hit the back of your throat.

You pulled off him for a second to answer his plea, “You know what to say if you want to cum.”

His head flopped back at your words and a groan of frustration came out. You worked him up to the edge two more times- he still wouldn’t break even when you were goading him while sucking on his balls and stroking his cock.

You were absolutely soaked, your own arousal getting frustrating. Damn him and his stubbornness you thought. Fuck it- maybe he’d break when he was finally inside you.

In your anger you ripped the zipper of your flight suit as you tore it off of your own body. You weren’t looking forward to explaining why you needed a new one to Leia tomorrow. For now you were focused on getting rid of the ache between your thighs while punishing Poe further.

A collective groan came out of the two of you as you sunk down on his cock slowly. You were so wet from just the anticipation that you could have taken him perhaps a bit faster, but the wrecked look on his face was even better. You relished in his desperation as you began to create a steady pace, still not as fast as he probably wanted you to go. He did follow at least one of your rules, keeping his hands fisted in his sheets. It made his knuckles lighten from how hard he was gripping them, showing how desperate he was to not let you win.

He was nearing his breaking point, you were sure of that. His whimpers had gotten even higher pitched when you started to swivel your hips in a certain way. Tears were also prickling at the corners of his eyes almost spilling down his tanned cheeks that were slick with sweat. He still had some fight in him though apparently, he was resilient as steel.

“Go faster- Kid.” Oh- he definitely knew what he was doing. He stoked your anger on purpose, finding it funny that you got so riled up over a simple nickname.

In your anger your hand then wrapped around his throat and with each bounce you spoke to punctuate your point, “Don’t.” “Call.” “Me.” “Kid.”

His legs were shaking hard underneath you, thoroughly overwhelmed by your all encompassing touch. You had complete control over him and his finish. His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was trying to finally apologize but couldn’t get the words out. Deciding to tease him further and test his limits a bit by saying, “Are you finally going to apologize?”

There was a slight pause in conversation while you continued to keep your pace going, waiting patiently for a response. Your own orgasm was beginning to rise within you. You could finish now, torturing him even further by feeling you spasm around him in pleasure, but you wanted to finish together if possible so you tried to be as patient as possible. Just when you were about to prompt him again he finally found the words you had been looking for.

“Yes! I- I won’t callll you kid again, I’m sorry!” The apology that you had been waiting for was so broken that it took you a second for you to understand what he had said. Your hips slowed their movements for a moment to then lean forward while tightening the hold you had on his neck slighting. You dragged your tongue from the bottom of his neck to the bottom of his ear before then whispering into his ear, “Thank you, you can cum now- and touch me.”

You clenched around him when his hands gripped your hips hard, using them as leverage to begin to thrust into you hard. Your own orgasm washed over you when after the last few thrusts he rubbed your clit before filling you.

After you had both rode out your releases you slumped forward onto Poe, trying to catch your breath. His fingers moved to slowly trace up your spine, which helped relax you.

“Hopefully I won’t have to teach you a lesson about what nicknames you can use on me again.” You breathed out with a chuckle, moving your own hand to trace his skin.

“I don’t know- I kinda liked the lesson you taught me.” A cheeky smirk was most definitely on his face as he said those words, which made you lightly tap his shoulder.

You clenched around his softening cock that was still inside you as retaliation, causing him to groan. You started to roll your hips at a languid pace, just so you could hear his whimpers again, this time from being still slightly sensitive from his first release. His cock was becoming hard inside you again, almost ready to go for a second round, “Do I need to teach you another lesson?”

You did have to admit though that the nickname was growing on you, not that you were going to tell Poe that anytime soon.

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith (I will keep trying to fix this 😡). New tag lists (no one has asked to be on these yet)

Oscar Isaac Characters: Poe Dameron/SW:

#poe dameron #poe dameron smut #poe dameron x reader #star wars x reader #star wars fanfic #star wars smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #30 fics in 30 days #Star Wars

393 notes · View notes

inkedtae · 4 years ago

Text

a brew of wings ⇾ myg. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ dragon!yoongi x witch!reader (f.)

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ daechwita inspired, fantasy, magic realism, smut, fluff, angst-ish, hybrid au, shifter au, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ your tiny tea shop is the perfect front for harbouring hybrid fugitives

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 10.3k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ mentions of violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of captivity, mentions of death, hard dom!yoongi, lip piercing!yoongi, big dicc!yoongi, tattooed!yoongi, sub!reader, tea shop owner!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), rough sex, a lil dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, oral (m. receiving), multiple orgasms, begging, teasing, spanking, a lil choking, spit play, breath play

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ happy halloween!! speical thanks to selene (@jksangelic) for helping me out a bit with logisitics!!! enjoy :)

♕ This is dedicated to @kkulmoon. My bestest soulmate!!!

♕ banner/border by ⇾ @suqakoo (jiji is wonderful and deserves all the love and this is a beautiful banner)

♕ beta’d by ⇾ @nottodayjjk (a hundred kisses and thanks to this gems for always being there for me~~)

♕ le playlist

In the humble village of Daegu, sandwiched between a blacksmith and mechanic, a tiny tea shop lives - exactly where Namjoon said it would be. But, not at all like his mother had described all those years ago. Technology has bled into every corner of her once little world. Yoongi wonders if she would still recognize it as he watches customers filter in and out from under his wickered hat. The tea shop seems all too busy to resemble anything close to a hybrid asylum, but Namjoon was specific. Perhaps Yoongi shouldn’t trust knights of the king. Most have a reputation for hybrid mistreatment. However, there isn’t much logic in letting Yoongi run so far only to be captured in an obscure tea shop. And besides, Namjoon is a friend. Perhaps the closest he’d encountered in a long while.

“She’s going to scold you.”

“Nix loves me too much to scold me.”

Nix. The familiar name redirects Yoongi’s attention to the two men walking by him. The taller one, with features so symmetrical they almost seem unreal, rests a fishing pole over his shoulder. The shorter one, with the sharper tongue, carries a bag that clatters with glass. They enter the shop causally tossing curses at each other. Yoongi reaches into his pocket, unfolding the little piece of parchment Namjoon ripped to scribble on.

utopia, nix, huckleberry lemon on ice.

One glance up at the flickering neon sign above the storefront attempts to spell Teatopia, but the first strokes of light seem to be dead. Instead, it glows atopia. Tremors of the midnight train suddenly resonate around the evening market. All lights flicker and dishes clatter, though the villagers' conversations carry on. Their affairs remain uninterrupted, eyes focused only on each other. Yoongi clenches his fists and digs his feet into the ground to steady himself until the train finally passes. When he glances back up at the neon sign, parts of the first ‘a’ flicker out to read utopia.

Rolling his shoulders back, Yoongi bears his fangs behind sealed lips, as a precaution, then pushes the door open. A bell chimes. Patrons sit around velvet draped tables. They engage in lively conversations, breaking steamed buns together and sipping on all sorts of tea. But, it’s the steady crackles of the fireplace that pique Yoongi’s interest. The amber embers beneath the flames soothe the heaviness upon his chest. One breathful of floral smoke, and he sinks into comfort.

That is until a black cat purrs down by his feet. Yoongi snaps his gaze down to find it circling between his legs then prancing off behind the counter. The two men bickering outside sit at the bar in front of a woman looking more unimpressed the longer they speak. Yoongi retracts his fangs, eyes fixated on the way your brows dance with annoyance. And that dress. He doesn’t care much for fashion but you seem to wear it differently, simply. Most people, much like him, travel with layers. Only a black dress clothes you, sleeves flourishing at your wrists and laces around your cleavage. Though, he really shouldn’t let his eyes wander.

Yoongi ignores the heat rushing to his cheeks as he approaches the counter. The black cat sits by the one-eyed register. Its tail swirls and emerald eyes remain on him. He tentatively takes a seat by a sleeping old man, a couple seats away from the arguing men.

“Nixy,” the shorter one smirks. “You wouldn’t scold me, right.”

You, Nix it would seem, cross your arms under your chest. You hold a blank expression until the taller one sighs and grumbles, “He stopped for a pack of stray dogs.”

“Jin! You promis- He purposely mislead us to fish for a couple of hours!”

Jin gasps then nudges his friend. “Guk, I swear I’ll kill you.”

Guk scoffs, returning the shove. He stands from his seat and attempts to tower over Jin, only to get a hand slice to the neck. A quick exchange of smacking hands breaks out between the two, the sleeping old man beside Yoongi suddenly wide awake.

“Land one in the gut!” He shouts.

Yoongi winces at the volume. He mutters a curse under his breath before his annoyed gaze meets yours. You watch him for a beat, two, three, then blink your attention back to Jin and Guk. A wave of your hand separates them with a slide back. Frustration still rages in their gazes. Yoongi holds his breath, diverting his gaze to the floor. Recognizing rage in others often triggers his hybridity. The dragon tickles in his palms as thick, black talons replace his nails. Yoongi shoves his hands in his pockets, eyes shifty, breath heavy.

You bite your lip. Jin and Guk fall silent, their words cinching in their throats. “I don’t want to have to send Apolla to babysit you,” you sigh. The black cat purrs in hiccups, as if laughing. You let a smirk grace your lips, continuing, “This next batch needs to be delivered on time.”

With a twirl of your finger, glass vials, now filled to the brim with multi-coloured herbs, float back into Guk’s bag. You, then, beckon the pouty men closer. They shuffle towards the counter. You tug two tiny crystal pendants from your charm bracelet and pin one on each of their sleeves. “These should help you stick to your path,” you mutter. “Soak them in saltwater once all the orders are complete.”

Though they roll their eyes, both men nod in understanding. Guk offers an innocent smile, Jin a playful one, before turning to the door. Whatever spell you had over their voices seems to wear off by the time they exit. “Little punk,” are Jin’s final words.

Yoongi’s hands clam with sweat as his talons retract under the cover of his pockets. He sighs heavily. Gaze shaking behind his short hair, he shifts in his seat. The old man’s snoring returns sinking in with the crackling fireplace seamlessly. Yoongi wishes he had this man’s freedom. The ability to fall in and out of sleep in a public place without fearing for his safety. Is it his identity or the shop that makes him feel this secure?

“What can I get you?”

He flinches. Meeting your curious gaze, he mutters, “Huckleberry lemon.”

“Infused or blended?”

Momentary panic flashes in his eyes. If you notice, you don’t make it known. “On ice.”

The action is quiet, subtle, but Yoongi hears it clearly. Your breath hitches. You swallow thickly, looking him over once, twice, then ask, “On or in?”

“On.”

You wave a hand. The lights of the shop flicker out, candles taking their place. Yoongi shoots to his feet, talons and fangs returning. His temples suddenly ache where his horns should be. Oh yes, Yoongi remembers, Horns surface in defense too. Setting his jaw, he ignores whatever sentiment scratches at his throat and whips his gaze around the store, searching for the first attack. However, he merely finds the patrons preparing to leave. They seem all too familiar with the switch between electric to flame. A few of them even mutter curses under their breath.

The old man stretches by Yoongi, to which he flinches. “Another rogue broomstick?” He asks you.

“A mop,” you correct before tugging on your ear. A loud clattering boom sounds from the closest by the end of the counter. Yoongi jumps back, looking to you for an answer. You avoid his gaze.

The customers bid you a goodnight. You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. They swim with panic instead. Yoongi perks his ears towards you, instantly picking up the quick beat of your heart. It’s hammering, blood sprinting around its cycle within your veins. He glances down at your hands. Your nails have scratched their way to the edge of the wooden counter, knuckles tense as you grip onto it.

Once all the customers have left, you circle around the counter and ask, “Is Namjoon okay? What happened?”

Yoongi stumbles back, eager to create distance amongst you. “Yeah, he’s fine. He told me you’ll find me a place to stay.”

“Where is he?”

“Seoul.”

You pause. Not a single breath dares escape you as you assess his word. Yoongi raises a brow. What exactly is your connection to Namjoon, he wonders. You went out of your way to find out as quickly as possible if anything was wrong. He licks his lips when realization finally colours your features. A bitter curse slips past your maroon lips. Without another word, you rush back around the counter and begin scribbling onto a loose piece of parchment. You roll it up once you’re done. “Apolla,” you call. The black cat leaps from counter top to top, landing by you effortlessly. You slip the note into her collar and whisper, “Make sure they read it and seriously consider it before leaving to the next, okay?”

Apolla meows, rubs her head in your hand then jumps off the counter. Yoongi peers over the counter to see where she’s gone, but he can’t spot her anywhere in the candle lit darkness.

“Do you have the note he gave you?”

Yoongi snaps his attention back to you. Your back faces him again. He digs into his pocket and pulls out the tiny piece of parchment. You pluck it right out of his hand and roll it up with your own note then whistle a high melody. Distant hoots grow louder behind him. He looks to the door as it opens on its own accord. A black owl swoops into the shop. You tie the message to its left leg, offer the owl what looks like a rat tail, then send it off. The door shuts the moment it's gone, locks clicking.

Finally turning to Yoongi, you tip your finger up and his hat falls to his back. Yoongi glares. Your sporadic writings and dismissals might have been interesting at first, but now he’s looking for answers. How is this witch supposed to help him? Namjoon promised he’d be safe here and, though the shop feels secure, you do not.

“Agust Dragon,” you whisper.

Yoongi furrows his brows. His gaze shifts to the draped windows and locked doors. Who told you of his arrival? Perhaps this was a trap. Was it to see how far he could get, to have this entire little town witness his defeat? The cruelty of the king does not know restraint. If anyone was to lead him back to his mother’s village to further humiliate him, it would be the king. Yoongi rolls his shoulder back, inhaling deeply as his talons surface once more. Taking a step back, he asks, “How do you know that? He didn’t write that in the note.”

Your eyes glow with concern. Had Yoongi not been fixating on every change, he wouldn’t have caught the underlying tone of your gaze. It’s almost as if you’re questioning just how much he knows. You wave a hand at the radio. Through the speakers, a robotic voice informs, We interrupt your scheduled programming to alert a hybrid breach in Seoul. Agust Dragon has escaped royal captivity. All-

With another wave, it switches back off. “It goes on for a while about your scar too,” you add.

Tremors of the taser used to detain him flash within his veins. The glint of that pearl sword blinds him with the haunting pain. Between those stone walls, he fully transformed. Had he known it would be the last time, he would’ve spread his wings wide, tipped his head to the sky and bellowed a cloud of fire. Within the smug, he’d inhale deeply and do it all over again. Perhaps he would’ve escaped then. Perhaps he would’ve endured more scars. At least, Yoongi thinks, I would still be a dragon.

The clatter of dishes pulls him out of his thoughts. He blinks his attention back to where you stood, only to find you mixing something in a black caludon. Jars of various contents hover around you, some peaking at the mixture over your shoulder. Yoongi watches you move further in the kitchen behind the counter like you’re floating yourself. Movements so swift, sharp, susintically enchanting, he can’t take his eyes off you no matter how hard he tries. Your power is an outlaw to nature yet looks so natural. Is it a charm of who you are or who you’ve become?

“I’m not sure what’s nourishing for a dragon,” you say over your shoulder. “I try to adjust the glamour to the hybrid. There isn’t much about dragons.”

“Yet.”

The speed of your gaze to his soul makes him shiver. You don’t regard him with hostility, but something much worse: curiosity. The very bane of his existence. Only, hints of concern cushion the blow of this realization. Yoongi can sense your intentions in the way you calculate your words. You explained what you’re working on without prompting. You ensure he knows you’re here to help by mentioning nutrients rather than sedatives. Yoogni may not know you, but he knows Namjoon well enough to know that if he trusts you enough with this information, then you might not be as big a threat as your curiosity is.

You return to the counter with a red and gold patterned teapot. The colours swirl around a white base in slithering motions. Yoongi assumes it’s a simple meld of lines until he makes out the bold eyes of a dragon. Shooting you a glare, he asks, “Is this a joke?”

The smirk on your face does not comfort his annoyance. Whether or not you recognize this, is hard for Yoongi to tell. There’s something painfully unreadable in your eyes. You never regard him with pity, even if he knows his face is bruised, clothes dirty and hair smells all too strong to ignore. Something else laces your looks that soothes and riles him all at once.

“It’s charmed to reflect your greatest desire,” you explain.

Yoongi pauses, looking down at the teapot again. The wings of the dragon flap then spread wide, like gliding over the winds. He blinks back his frustrations, reverting his attention to the flower painted cup in your hands. Regret pricks his heart, his conscious scolding his tongue for lashing out all too quickly. Just because he can’t completely trust you, doesn’t particularly mean you don’t have pure intentions regardless.

He clears his throat and mutters, “Sorry.”

After pouring dark violet tea into the cup, Yoongi watches as you squeeze a bit of honey in. You shrug his apology off while giving the tea a good stir. Sliding the cup towards him, you tentatively search his gaze and ask, “So, what did you see?”

Yoongi ignores the question. He keeps his attention focused on the tea, bracing himself before that first, initial sip. The moment the spice soaked chia touches his lips, he is thrown into a euphoric tranquility. Notes of cinnamon, ginger, anise stars and peppercorn evade his senses. His body voluntarily melts into the warm comfort spreading within. And that little bit of honey you added, offers just the right amount of sweetness, and that’s not something Yoongi particularly cares for.

It takes pulling the cup away from his mouth for him to realize he’d drank it all. Face warm, he glances up at you. He’d never really met a witch before, merely seen them around. He doesn’t remember his mother mentioning any in Daegu when she resided here. They seemed to flock around Ilsan, near the wooded mountains. It’s rather common knowledge that the closer they are to nature, the stronger they become. Their strength usually also manifests greaty in covens. So, why is this one alone?

Wiping his mouth, Yoongi holds the cup out. He may not completely understand your motives, but that tea is too warm to turn down. You smile and refill it. He takes another sip, removing the cup from his face so as to not to chug it all at again. You pick up on his actions and quietly giggle to yourself. Yoongi bites back a smile. Maybe it’s the tea, but he finds something about your laugh that’s all too pleasing. It feels familiar, a little sentimental, and profoundly personal.

“What’s your name?”

He raises a brow. Was Agust not enough for you? Or do you know that it isn’t who he really is? “How did you-”

“You look like the cautionary type,” you interrupt. “The type to bear his fangs and talons on the slight chance that danger is just around the corner. So, I would assume you didn’t tell whoever caught you your real name.”

And he thought he hid that so well. You’re smarter than he expected you to be. Or perhaps, more accurately, you’re more perceptive than expected. The longer he remains in your presence, the more he realizes he has completely underestimated you. Originally, you were just some middle maiden, redirecting lost hybrids upon a knight’s command. Now, Yoongi is starting to wonder if perhaps you’re the one in command. However, if you can sway knights of the king, why wouldn’t you use that power for something greater than relocating refuge hybrids? Why not destroy the system all together?

Either way, your potential summons a ghost of smirk to his lips. “And why should I tell you?” His tone is almost teasing, but simply because Yoongi is curious now. How much attention are you offering?

You rest elbows on the counter and lean on your chin in your hands while trying to hide a smile. “I’m (Y/N).”

In a reactive loop, he mentally repeats your name until it’s seared into his brain. His dragon hums in approval, like it was expecting it, expecting you. Yoongi presses on. “What’s the point of Nix then?”

“A coven name burns into your soul,” you whisper. “Much like a dragon does when born.”

“I thought you said you don’t know much about dragons.”

You smile, rolling your eyes like he’s the one being tested. Sitting up, you turn back to the kitchen and ask, “Have you eaten?”

Yoongi barely parts his lips before you cut in again and call over your shoulder, “Or would you rather get washed up first? Hmm, that might be best. Finish your tea and I’ll show you to the bath.”

A snap of your fingers and the kitchen comes alive. You shut the curtains into the back, but Yoongi makes out the charmed sponges and dishes being cleaned. The closest that clattered not to long ago, opens just enough for a broom and mop to waddle out. They rush to the back, the mop bumping into the broom. For a moment, the two nudge each other back and forth, until your echoing steps scare them into continuing on their path to the kitchen. They slip between the curtains.

In near silence, Yoongi sits alone in the shop. The distant spray of the sink only just breaks the hearth’s crackling concentration. Every sip of tea settles the fuming dragon. It’s something about the spicy kick and earthy tones of mint - at least he thinks it’s mint. He wonders what gives it this violet colour. Is it the magic? Is it you?

It’s rather odd, now that he thinks about it. Three days of travel, of near survival only to find solstice in a cup of tea. Perhaps that’s the true magic you offer. A sense of peace is a sip away? Or maybe it’s the lack of concrete walls and iron chains. His mother would enjoy this tea. His father would look forward to the food. But Yoongi craves the steam of a bath, the warmth of a pillow. And the dragon within yearns for your presence. If Yoongi wasn’t so sunk in tranquility, he’d search for a reason. Alas, he cannot be bothered.

“You ready?”

The chime of your voice snaps his gaze away from the teapot. Yoongi glances down at his cup to find it empty again. Why can’t he every savour the taste?

With a nod, he hops off the stool. “How far is it?”

You toss him a confused look. Nodding towards the right, you reply with a chuckle, “Just a couple of steps.”

The teapot and cup hop off the counter and into the kitchen as Yoongi watches you disappear down a hallway. You return with a half-smile, regarding him as if he’s the strange one, enchanting dishes and speaking in half-truths.

“Well, come on!”

A sharp retort sits on the tip of his tongue. Yoongi swallows it before it can cause more damage than necessary. Orders don’t resonate too well with the dragon. It burns his throat with disobedience. There is a better way to do things: his way. He doesn’t particularly like being forced into another. Still, he follows in silence.

You lead him to the tiny office that looks more disorganized than anything else. Layers of loose parchment and letters bury a mahogany desk. Dried wax, leaked from overused candles, splatters over every surface. Blankets atop a sapphire and opal patterned carpet lay in disarray. You bend over in front of him, his face reddening and eyes shooting to the ceiling, to find cobwebs and burned lights tangled around the beams. With a grunt, you flip up the carpet and a little hatch appears. A stomp, two, three and it clicks open. A dark staircase makes itself known.

“After you,” you smile.

Yoongi furrows his brows. Are you insane or simply numb to your own oddities? He’s having a hard time deciding when you flash him such an innocent smile. Glancing back at the dark staircase, even his dragon begins to question your sanity. “You want me to enter this basement first? The hidden, dark basement?”

It takes a moment but his point finally dawns on you. Brows shooting up, you let out a nervous giggle and decide to enter first. “It’s not a basement,” is all you offer as a means of comfort. Or at least that’s what he thinks you say. You’re about halfway down before saying anything at all, voice distant and echoing.

Where else can he go, he wonders. It would be hard to find a hidden place after being spotted in the town. He doesn’t even know the terrain that well and there isn’t just some tree he can climb or cave to scurry into. You’re unfortunately his last hope for safety. Perhaps you just have a skewed version of it. Yoongi just hopes it's not as skewed as the king’s.

Against his cautionary judgement, he descends. Each step beckons him closer to warmth, a reality he wasn’t expecting. An orange hue dances against the stone walls as he reaches the last few steps of the spiral staircase.

You’re right. Again. It’s not at all a basement, but a home. Yoongi inherits the serenity, familiarity and security the moment he arrives. Book shelves galore, candles a plenty and belevenance at every glance. You move around the living room with a pillow and a stack of blankets. Dropping by the foot of the emerald couch, your attention falls back to Yoongi. In his dirty clothes and unwashed hair, he feels so out of place from the purity your home radiates.

“The bathroom is just down that hall,” you say, pointing to one of five hallways on the right side.

You’re odd. Yoongi didn’t think that would be something he’d respond to. He nods as a thanks, ignoring the way your generosity strokes his heart. Perhaps, he wonders while shuffling down the hall, humans are wretched. And witches, the so-called horrors of horror, are benignant. Or, it could just be that you are. Either way, Yoongi has witnessed something tonight that he hadn’t in a long time. Acceptance.

He spares you one last glance, hand hovering over the brass doorknob. You’re holding a wand and attempting to transform the couch into a bed. The dragon reminds him that you don’t know him, where he comes from, how long he’d traveled, or what he’d done to be chained. All you know is a friend sent him here and his hybridity makes him undesirable. Such a luxury, the dragon whispers, to trust and be trusted.

Agust doesn’t like to talk about himself. You learned this quickly. After the first night, you tried to pry again. Who else escaped? How long had he known Namjoon? Any chance he’ll be offering that name now? But, he won’t budge. Sometimes, when he’s tired of all your questions, he’d walk away. The excuse is usually that he’s looking for a book, but you haven’t seen him pick up anything besides an anthology of flight. You decided to give up all together, not daring to ask the real question on your mind, like how he got that scar.

Other times, however, he’ll turn the questions onto you. Maintaining eye contact, he’d listen to each answer and engage in a little conversation about each point. Three weeks have elapsed, and you still have yet to decide if this is part of his diverting tactic or if he’s genuinely interested. In both cases, it’s good to know that he’s willing to have a conversation about something.

It’s also reassuring to find that he’s adapted to your routine seamlessly. He mentioned something about wanting to help out around the shop his third morning in Daegu. The look on his face was too precious to deny. Curious, unsure, tentative, he muttered the question like it meant everything and nothing to him all at once. You were wondering if he knew that Apolla still hadn’t returned with news then, but now you’re sure. He glances at her food bowl every morning, as if looking for signs of her presence.

Three weeks is the longest she’d ever looked for a safehouse. You expected that not many people would want to harbour a known fugitive, but hoped that someone would. Most hosts recognize the danger of associating with a hybrid. The consequences are the same - execution. Perhaps risks run higher when a face is attached to a name and continuously circling the news.

Your greatest regret, however, is how relieved you are that he won’t be leaving. Sure, Agust is stand-offish and too blunt at times, but there’s just something about him that reels you in. The rasp of his voice, the indifferent wonder in his eyes, how he walks like he rather be flying is endearing. He almost floats with determined desolation, like he digs the very hole he’s in to get out. The deeper he is, the stronger he becomes. You’re not sure if you find that admirable, but it’s something merely Agust-esque.

He leans on the counter now, reading that same anthology again. You’re sure this is his fourth time through it. He still soaks in every word and takes his time with each page. A customer approaches the counter with a bright smile. You stop cleaning one of the tables to watch Agust deliberately ignore him. Being a dragon, he can sense when someone is near and how they might be feeling.You know this from the stories your coven would trade. Dragons, being a rarity, are something like gods to witches; you haven’t really met one before Agust.

“Good evening,” the customer greets. He hops onto one of the stools as Agust ignores him. His smile wavers. “S-sir?”

“Shh.”

The customer blinks. He looks around as if wondering if he’d really just been shushed. “I would-”

“Shh.”

You sigh, muttering a quiet plea to the gods under your breath. Then, you catch it, the smirk plaything on Agust��s lips. It’s so tiny, hidden behind an annoyed persona, that if you hadn't been paying such close attention you would’ve missed it. He’s not ignoring the customer to gain a reaction out of them, but out of you. And for some odd reason, that makes your heart skip a beat.

Agust flips the page then finally acknowledges the customer. An amused look holds his features as the customer stutters their order. “Orange basil?” He questions, hints of disgust drenched in his tone. Before the man can part his lips to reply, Agust sighs and shrugs. He looks at you, and raises a brow. It’s rather teasing, silently asking why you’re staring.

After wiping your hands, you carry the tray of teacups and little teapots back to the counter. The magic takes over once you stand by Agust. He follows your every movement, eyes lingering on the sway of your hips for a few seconds too long.

“Jimin,” you greet, ignoring Agust like he had done to the customer.

He picks up on your actions quickly, a quiet chuckle escaping him. “Suck up,” he whispers.

“Is he supposed to be behind the counter?” Jimin asks. He avoids Agust’s gaze, knowing his question would earn him a glare.

“Not with an attitude,” you reply with a bright smile.

Agust rolls his eyes, prepared to chuckle until he hears Jimin laugh. He sighs as if the daily customer is intruding. Within seconds, his interest in the conversation falls. That cursed anthology consumes his attention all over again.

You mask your disappointment with business, turning to the kitchen. The caldron already heard the order and began it’s brew just as you have enchanted it to do. Agust knows this. He’s watched you recharm the pots every morning. And every time you run back here, you know he notices. Sometimes you can feel his eyes following you when you walk away from him. There’s a faint pull in his gaze, like he’s pleading for your return to his side. At times, you find yourself longing after him too when he’s in such close but distant proximity.

A quiet hoot shatters all your thoughts. You rush back to the counter in time to find the door burst open and Grako swoon in. Agust already had his gaze locked on the glass, his inner dragon probably having picked up the thumping flaps of feather in the wind.

Some customers gasp and duck agains their tables. You ignore their confused stares, knowing they’ll chalk this up to one of your strange quirks. Grako lands on the counter, scaring Jimin enough to make him jump out of his seat. Agust enjoys the sight a little too much.

“Can you get the seeds by the sink for me?” You ask Agust, hoping to grant Jimin a moment without ridicule. Without a word, he makes his way to the kitchen.

You fight every instinct to follow after his frame and focus on the owl. Searching for Namjoon’s reply, your heart sinks when you don’t find parchment on the left leg. Your message looks untouched on the right. Untying the string holding it together, you unroll the parchment to find the unchanged message.

Agust sets the sealed bag of seeds on the counter. Grako turns to face him. You do your best to suppress a shaky sigh, but Agust hears it anyways. He ignores the owl eyeballing him and shifts closer to you. The action surprises you enough to distract from your worries. Agust never cared for less distance. Yet, he stands close enough to feel the warmth of his breath fanning over your shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” He mutters.

Though you want to tell him, you know now is not at all the right time. One too many pairs of eyes lock on you, various ears perking in your direction. You force a smile and shake your head. “Nothing at all,” you reply in the steadiest voice you can muster.

He nods. He doesn’t believe it, but nods. “How often do your charms work?”

You raise a brow. “Often.”

“So are the sponges supposed to wring sink water all over the floor?”

Agust is clever. You never doubted this. He’s perspicacious, calculating and above all downright angelic. However, you try not to let that last detail overtake you too much. It’s just that pierced lip and dark tattoo peeking from under his tunic stun you from time to time. The messy hair, undercut and dark, and that scar that lure you more than they should. It’s all too pure to be so rough, much like his personality.

No, wait, you’ve gotten ahead of yourself again. Agust is clever - yes. He knows just how to get his way with you every time. Anything he wants, you usually offer. His reference of rogue cleaning supplies is just one example of his advantageous perception. Tugging on your ear, you sent the sponges acraze around the kitchen. A cacophony of broken dishes and spilled cauldrons echo throughout the shop. You wonder if you tugged too hard or perhaps used a stronger spell than intended. Did you even recharm the sponges or the entire kitchen?

All conversation halts to the loud mess transpiring behind the curtain. Agust nudges your elbow, reminding you of the switch to flames when enchantments “malfunction.” You mutter a quiet, oh then wave a trembling hand to the ceiling. The lights flicker a few times before the half-hearted spell finally works.

“But-” Jimin tries to say only to have Agust hush him again with a finger upon his lips. Jimin sighs, following the rest of the customers out.

Agust waits for the doors to lock before fully facing you. “So?”

You’re not sure what Agust’s relationship was with Namjoon. You always assumed it was closer enough to trust, but how close is that for Agust? Did Namjoon know his real name? The last thing you want to do is sadden him with your assumptions about your best friend’s silence. However, as you part your lips to lie, you find you are simply incapable of the action when it comes to Agust. It’s not just that he will automatically catch on, but that the act itself dries your mouth. It would feel awkward to lie, perhaps even disgusting.

“He didn’t reply.”

“It’s been gone for a month.”

“I know.”

He searches your eyes. Fingertips hovering near yours, he inhales half a breath. “Maybe he went back to Ilsan?”

Namjoon told him about Ilsan? Your heart festers with jealousy, regrettably towards Namjoon. If Agust knows of Ilsan, then Namjoon must know his real name. The fact that you didn't mention a name at all in your note might have tipped him against replying. You know Namjoon well enough to know he would take the safest option. Is that where Agust picked up his cautionary habit? No, you mustn’t entertain this petty frustration. So what if Namjoon is closer to Agust than you are? They probably spent more time together too. Another wave of annoyance attacks your chest. That possibility seems to irk you more than soothe you as it was meant to.

Sliding the piece of parchment and a pen towards him, you mutter, “Write your name. The one he’d know.”

Agust pauses. You don’t spare him a second glance. It’s childish, you know, but you can't help but be a bit peeved with him. Your mind is actively reminding you that Agust and Namjoon are their own people and do not need to have a smaller relationship than you and Agust do. Your heart can’t shut up about it though. It invades your thoughts with questions that attack your insecurities. Have you been too nice? Too mean? Too lazy with your magic or too powerful? Is he intimidated or simply more comfortable around men than he is around women? Feeding Grako from the seeds in your palm, you clench your jaw and attempt to purge these thoughts from your mind.

Doubt is poisonous. You wish you had an anecdote for this sort of suffering.

“I don’t want to.”

“Well, he doesn’t believe you’re really here,” you all but snap. “So either scribble the stupid name or let him die.”

Your drama makes you cringe. Being too aware of your stupidity in the moment might just be the very worse detail about this cursed conversation.

Agust scoffs. Inching closer, he towers over you. Jaw set, eyes dark with amber rage, he whispers, “You’ll refrain from using such a tone with me if you know what’s good for you.” His calloused fingers trace the outline of your face, as he continues, “I don’t want to warn you again.”

You shudder against his frame. Gulping, you muster whatever courage you have left and mutter, “You’ll refrain from using such threats with me.” You take his hand in yours and squeeze gently, letting your magic tickle his bloodstream. He shivers as those black talons reappear. You feel their impression against your wrist. “If you know what’s good for you,” you finish.

Agust waits, watches. Adam’s apple bobbing, he nods once. His attention returns to the parchment. He scratches his name, blows it dry, then rolls it up like you had weeks ago. You tie the note to the right leg again. You hope your assumption is correct as you secure the knot. After tossing Grako a rat tail, to which he effortlessly catches, you send him off again. This time he is Ilsan bound.

“Who is Namjoon to you?” Agust asks once the doors lock shut again.

You wave a hand to the kitchen to fix whatever disarray you accidentally set it to then answer the question with one of your own. “Who are you to him?”

“A friend.”

You weren’t really expecting an answer. He usually sulks when you toss a question back at him. So, you begin to wonder, why did he answer this one? What is so important about your answer this time?

“A best friend,” you smirk.

He rolls his eyes. “Does getting on my nerves fascinate you?”

You shrug. “Usually.”

“Just answer the question.”

“I did.”

He sighs and you mock it, earning a pointed look. “Did you meet in Ilsan?”

“Yeah. We grew up together,” you answer. Though you love to tease him, you can never keep it up for too long. You always end up giving into him at some point. “We were neighbours. The coven didn’t really like him lurking around me though.”

“Was this his idea?”

You raise a brow. “I thought you were friends?”

“You’re enchanting,” he suddenly blurts.

When your face falls in shock, his cheeks heat up. His words seem as though they are registering for the first time. How enchanting are you exactly?

“What I mean is,” he tries again. “You have the tendency to get your way from anyone you’d like. Jin and Guk have made all glamour deliveries on time, Namjoon rounds up hybrids for you to relocate all over the kingdom, and you recruit every animal you find.”

“Not every animal,” you playfully pout. “Just the useful ones.”

Agust rolls his eyes. Accepting defeat, he shuts his book and tucks it under his arm. For a second, you think he’s about to say something. But, he merely licks his lips and avoids your gaze. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s upset with you.

Later, during dinner, you start to believe your assumptions. Agust seems to focus on everything but you. The beef stew, garlic buns, kimchi, ginseng tea, even pulling out that stupid book again. Never has he opened those pages at the table, always offering you at least sliver of attention. Maybe you have no right for feeling this way, but his disregard for you twinges your pride.

“Is there a reason you’re staring?”

And that tone. You’ve grown rather sick of it, frankly. He sulks around the house, around the shop and grumbles half-hearted insults. Though you know they’re usually playful, you can’t ignore the festing frustration in your chest.

His eyes gleam with the dragon within. “We both know I can sense your anger.”

“Shut the book.”

“No.”

You raise a brow, silently suggesting a possible source to your anger. Agust shuts the book.

“Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” you sarcastically smile.

He stares for a moment then shakes his head. “I’m not sure why you’re so angry,” he says while picking up his plate.

You charm it right out of his hands as he stands from his seat. He glares. You return it. When he reaches for his cup, you wave a hand at it as well. Both dishes hover to the sink. The game carries on until all the dishes float back to the kitchen. You toss a mocking smirk and ask, “Enough flying for you?”

“What do you have against flying?”

It has your attention. “Nothing.”

“You’re a terrible liar. How you’ve gotten away with all this hybrid hiding all these ears is beyond me.”

You quirk your head to the side. So he knows this operation has been years in the making. Then what was all that questioning about?

“If you have something to say, then say it,” he baits after taking his seat. He almost sounds like he doesn’t think you will. He should know you better by now.

You stand up and circle the table. Leaning against the edge, towering over him, you cross your arms under your chest and disregard all filters. “How did you escape?”

He scoffs. “Namjoon helped me.”

“Yes, but how?”

A certain darkness falls over his features. He gulps before letting out a shaky sigh. “He was guarding my quarters. We spoke often.” Then he falls silent, eyes reverting to the floor. A moment elapses, two, three, by the fifth he takes another deep breath. “My last night was hard. He told me that he was working on permanent relaction in Ilsan. Something about how the mountains are safest. But after that night, I don’t think he was willing to wait for the right moment anymore.”

So, that’s how he knew of Ilsan. Shame settles over you in heavy waves. You avoid his eye in regret. Even after that, you know you shouldn’t pry. But you continue to ask anyways. “What happened?”

He glances at the anthology. “They took my horns,” he mutters so indifferently you think it’s a joke. Still, you don’t dare laugh. Not when his face is riddled with embarrassment and disgrace.

“Then, I was forced into a full transformation,” he continues. “And clipped.”

You gasp. He lets out a breathy chuckle. “Don’t be so dramatic, (Y/N).”

How can he be so lighthearted? No- you mustn’t question his ways of coping. Regret engulfs you as you look to the stupid book again. Perhaps you shouldn’t have been so pushy about it. You’ve heard rumors in the coven, about clipped dragons. You just didn’t think anyone would ever succumb to such cruelty.

“I won’t tell you things if you’re just gonna cry about it,” he grumbles.

You’re crying? Rubbing your hands against your cheeks, you’re surprised to find them wet. “Sorry,” you chuckle. “I just can’t believe they really-”

“So this wasn’t your idea then?”

Shifting closer to him, you wipe away all your tears and shake your head. “Namjoon found me the day I opened. I told him in a letter that I’ve borrowed a home under the shop. A couple of hobbits told me about it on the train from Ilsan.”

His hand slips into yours, stunting your explanation for a moment. You gaze down at them, finding the warmth all too welcoming to vocalize any curiosities. His thumb brushes against your knuckles, as if attempting to soothe your worries.

“Is that how you relocate us? Through tunnels?”

You nod. “He’s a knight of the people. Just like he vowed to be.”

Agust sighs. He stops the smoothing touches and redirects his eyes to the floor. “I’m Yoongi,” he whispers, then quickly changes the subject before you’re able to comment on it. “My mother is from Daegu. I thought I’d find her here even though I know where she’s buried.”

Yoongi. How precious. You repeat the name over and over again until it seers into your brain. A sudden tug to get close gnaws at your heart. A part of you wants to sit in his lap, but another is trying desperately to convince you how bad of an idea that is. The fact of the matter is, though you appreciate the honesty, you can’t help but wonder why he’s telling you all this. After a little over a month of half-sentences and playful teasing at most, he’s suddenly willing to spill all this out to you? It doesn’t make much sense to you, but you’re too afraid to ask. The last thing you’d want to do is downplay his honesty for something material.

Alas, it seems like you don’t have to ask though. Yoongi already knows.

“I want to tell you I don’t know. But, I think you might be the first person in a very long time to not care.” When you furrow your brows in confusion, he lightly chuckles and clarifies, “You are clever enough to know my name is not dragon, despite popular belief, and couldn’t care less that I am one. I’m just Yoongi to you, even if you didn’t know it.”

You cannot deny the allure of him anymore. Hearing him speak of you like this, like you’re the only thing that matters, does more to you than you’re willing to admit. You press your thighs together before slipping into his lap. He wraps an arm around your waist like he’d been expecting this. Yours dangle off his shoulders like you’d been made for this.

He looks so painfully holy up close, like a fallen god. The scar through his eye crushes your guts with anger. He’d seen so many horrors, perhaps even endured most of it. You know it is not because of the dragon. The determination in his gaze, the desire to survive roots further down than any mythical side of him can touch. Yoongi made it this far because he wanted to. And what do all his efforts leave him with… clipped wings and horns? You can’t sit back and watch him pour himself into this anthology another second. It’s clear he misses his wings, even his horns.

“Yoongi,” you start, mind sifting through memories of dragon lore. “I think I can bring your wings back.”

He falls silent. A breath doesn’t even dare escape him. “You keep telling me you don’t know much about dragons.”

“I don’t have any physical books about them or dragon hybrids for that matter, but most covens revere dragons. The greatest stories among us are about how magical you are. A piece of you in any potion heightens the effects tenfold,” you explain.

“So what? You just so happen to have a spell to sprout wings?”

He’s mocking as a defense. You know this though it still doesn’t stop you from rolling your eyes. “Not exactly. Reproduction spells are tricky. They don’t require the typical notions of a dragon that any other spell might. They tend to be a bit more…” you trail off, eyes dancing all around the room just to stay off him. Shifting on his lap, you suddenly find it all too awkward to be seated here.

“More..?”

Perhaps you shouldn’t have brought this up. “Intimate.”

You expected to hear him retch in disgust, or maybe even cringe. At the very least, you expected his face to fall. Never did you think it would light up, no matter how badly you hoped it would.

“Intimate?” He repeats. “How exactly does that work?” You’re about to answer when he adds, “Show me.”

Heart fluttering, you swallow thickly. Your guts churns with desire, core drenched in desperation as he continues to regard you with cocky indifference. Is he joking? Testing you? You pray to any god listening that he’s serious.

“We should probably fire the caldron first,” you whisper. “The base needs to brew for a while.”

Yoongi nods. “I’ll make sure to give it enough time.” He attempts to hide his smile. You push yourself off his lap and try to ignore how needy you become from a few simple words. You can feel him watching. Body shaking, you’re not sure if you're bursting with excitement or simply anxious. Yoongi seems to have made you feel both throughout his stay here.

Deep breath in, and you bring both hands up to light the fireplace. The charmed calderon fills to life. Rosewater to start; sweet thyme, cloves, wolfsbane, knotgrass and a hint of ginger to brew. Yoongi makes his way towards you, silently watching all the ingredients pour into the black pot.

“When is it my turn?”

Skin ablaze, you bit your lip to hold back a moan. “The witch’s essence needs to be added too,” you mutter all too quietly.

He hears it anyways. “Even better.”

Your nerves are all he can sense. The smirk on his face tells you that much. He’s playing because he knows he can. He knows he’ll get away with it and there isn’t much you can do about that. Unless… there is?

He did ask you to show him how the intimacy would work. You start to unlace your dress, biting back a giggle when his breath hitches. Did he think you wouldn’t do it?

Over and off, goes your dress. In a soft thump, it lands on the wooden floors. Yoongi sighs, eyes shamelessly roaming over your naked body, fixating on every dip of your curves. His balls his hands and makes it a point to keep them by his side. The shift in power makes you giddier than it should.

Raising a brow, you ask, “I thought you wanted to see how it’s done?”

Yoongi chuckles. He licks his lips, looking off to the side for a moment then pulls his shirt off. The symbol of Min inks in arm like a sleeve. A royal dragon. The abuse makes all too much sense now. Not that it has ever been out of place for the king to do such a thing. He thumbs your chin, gently asking to meet his gaze.

“Do you still want to restore my wings?” He asks, like his status could ever change that.

You decide to show him how badly you do on your knees. Hands fiddling with his zipper, you undo his pants and let his massive cock smack your face. Yoongi gasps a moan; your pussy clenches with need. How dare he make such a sound so effortlessly? You just might cum from his voice alone, if he keeps this up. And who told him it was okay to be this thick? He’s so heavy against your cheek, pointing at the soft flesh like it belongs to him.

His eyes gleam, lips stretch into a smug smirk. Well, don’t you? He seems to be silently asking.

Mouth open, you carve a taste. Is dragon cum as sweet as everyone says? Tongue over slit, and you can confirm that it is. Your eyes roll back and whines escape like it’s your first time. It’s just one taste but you can’t hold yourself back. Spitting over his cock, you pump him a couple of times then shove him down your throat.

Yoongi groans. His fingers tangle in your hair. At first, they move in gentle motions. The gesture is enough to tell you not to strain yourself. But then you make the mistake of swallowing around him. Your throat tightens all too deliciously for him to merely watch. Like a switch, Yoongi unbounds himself. His nails dig into your scalp, and hips snap forward.

You gag. And he loves it. Every wet, choked sound struggling to keep up fuels the force of his thrusts. He loses himself all too quickly to even realize that he’s suffocating you. Hands against his thighs, you have to pat him a few times before he returns to his senses.

In an instant, his hands are by his side again as he pulls out. You let his cock rest on your tongue as you pant. Through your blurred vision, you can only just make out his concerned gaze. “Sorry, princess,” he hisses.

As if you thought that honey-thick voice couldn’t get any raspier, he goes and calls you his princess. A loud moan leaves you all too quickly. No one has ever dwelled on you like that. Is his objective to ruin you before the spell casts?

While brushing your hair back, he chuckles down at you. Your soul fills with the undeniable desire to please this man beyond comprehension. You want to hear him whisper how tight you are, tell you how well you’re doing. Until pride glows every inch of your heart, you will not stop choking on his giant cock.

You take him all at once, again. Throat burning, a part of your regrets not working yourself up to committing to all of him. Back and forth, you bob your head on his dick. So big, he barely even fits. Every new thrust means squeezing himself through all over again. It beckons tears to your eyes and strains your jaw. You’re aching, but he’s twitching.

Face scrunched in pleasure, Yoongi throws his head back. “Just a little more, princess,” he hisses. Pulling in deep, he keeps your head still against his pelvis and whispers, “Hold it there. Just stay- fuck, do it again for Daddy, princess.”

Anything for daddy, you wish you would scream. You force yourself to swallow twice more than he asked for, risking a gag too big to ignore. Through gritted teeth, he roars like a dragon in heat and unloads himself in your mouth. Most of it slides down just from how deep he’d reached, but the rest spills out from the corner of your lips.

He doesn’t care. Pulling out, he continues to pump himself at the sight of you. Hair disheveled, cheeks stained with tears and mouth smeared with cum, are you really this big a whore? Or is it all just for him?

You’re granted a moment to catch your breath, watching him watch you with newfound wonder. Vein laced hand, inked and sticky with his own cum, Yoongi pulls you back up to your feet by your neck. He pats your hair down, wipes your lips, then presses a tender kiss upon them.

It’s now that you notice he has always smelt like charred oak, musky and smokey. Everything about him sets you aflame, And though, your lips are on fire from the taste of his, the cold edge of his piercing cools you enough to miss the heat. You moan and drape your arms around his neck like this is some innocent kiss and his erection isn’t poking at your belly.

“Is there any particular way I gotta fuck you, princess?” He questions between sloppy kisses.

You force yourself off him long enough to answer, “Hold me over the pot. We have to cum together for it to work.”

He smiles, jerks his head back when you try to kiss him again. A twinge of embarrassment strikes your heart before he turns you around and softly trails kisses up and down your neck. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs into your skin, rough hands kneading your ass. “Fuck, I knew you had an ass but this is fucking insane.”

A smack follows his praise. You cry out his name. He spanks you harder. “You know that’s not what you’re supposed to call me right now.”

You giggle through an erotic moan. He doesn’t like the sound of that. With one hand tight on your neck and the other wrapped around your waist to hold you in place, Yoongi kicks your feet and spreads your legs. Gliding his girth between your folds, he hisses against your ear, “You’ll learn to behave yourself from now on, princess.”

You want to tell him it was never your intention to disrespect him. However, the slow, deliberate punishment he inflicts melts you into him in silence. All you can bring yourself to whine is, “Whatever you want, daddy.”

“Mmm, that’s right. That’s my perfect princess,” he whispers. Then, he sucks in a sharp breath with you and plunges himself in your tight cunt. You knew he wouldn’t fit probably in your mouth, but you thought that your pussy, sopping for attention oh so desperately, would easily accept him. It’s your fault for underestimating such a massive cock. His tip doesn’t even fit. Yoongi takes to bending you over for a smoother entrance.

“So huge!” You cry only to have him chuckle behind you. Vibrations of his laugh tickle your spine.

Once he finally pushes his way through, breathless moans and groans filling the space between, he gives you some time to adjust. It;s thoughtful of him, but you both know no amount of time will ever get you used to his godly size.

“Please just ruin me, daddy,” you beg, through a broken whine.

“What was that, princess?”

“Please, please just fuck me!”

Tightening his grip on both your neck and waist, he rapsys a dark laugh against the shell of your ear. You shudder, thinking you might just cum now until he starts to ram you. You jerk forward each time despite his hold on you. His hips always overpower everything else. Rough smacks of skin on skin drown your voice until it’s completely gone. You cannot even bring yourself to properly breathe. He’s a beast. Huffing your name, clenching his jaw and sinking his balls into you, Min Yoongi makes it his mission to destroy you.

“Pretty, pretty little girl,” he hisses. “My pretty princess.” Grinding his hips against your ass, cock swilling the mess he’s making of your pussy, he suddenly breathes, “I wanna make you my queen.”

Leaning back into him, you find just enough strength to muster the first words that come to mind. “I’m gonna hold you to that, daddy.”

He moans, softening his hold to shower your face with gentle kisses. A reflection of comfort and familiarity glow in his eyes when he pulls away. His hands slide down to your thighs. He bends a little to hosite you up against him. With your legs spread, he holds you over the calderon and picks up that wickedly rough pace again. You place your hands over his and let him ravish in you.

Slouching, your pussy tights with every new thrust. Doses of you are already dripping into the brew as it boils. Yoongi curses. You thought you felt him twitching a few minutes ago but now you’re sure. In fact, you can even see it. He’s so big an imprint of his cock bulges from your stomach. You watch it twitch again as he shoves his balls deeper into you.

Just witnessing it, triggers your orgasm. You try to hold it off long enough to let him know, only to have Yoongi barks, “Fucking cum!”

You’ve never been one to deny him anything. Convulsing, you let your orgasm run free through you. Yoongi digs his fingers into your thick thighs to keep you steady, all while continuing to ruin you. It seems as though cumming spurs him on to further plough into you. He moves with harsher force and speed than he did when he was annoyed.

He mutters something else in your ear, but you can’t make anything out. Your ears ring, vision blurs and you tremble all over. Toes curled and pointed to the sky, you cry out his name. And, as he pulls out of you to let out leak your mixed cum into the potion, you whisper the spell under your breath thrice.

“Kiss me,” you whine. “Quick.”

Though lacking his title, he doesn’t argue. Lips on lips, you drip out your love and seal the spell.

The cackles of the potion break your kiss. Yoongi sets you back down to your feet then steps away from the heat. You lean back into him, watching the calderon overflow with steam and gleam green.

He pecks your shoulder and wraps his arms around your waist. “So, there really is a potion,” he chuckles quietly to himself.

“What do you mean? Why would I lie about something like that?”

Yoongi shrugs. You push your ass back against him, teasingly. He tightens his hold with a playful smirk. “I just thought you wanted me.”

“I do,” you whisper without much thought.

A relieved smile, gummy and too cute to resemble anything you just did, stretches upon his lip. You peck his chin to which he blushes. Min Yoongi blushing is not a sight you were prepared to see, erupting your heart all too easily.

“Never speak of this,” he tries to grumble indifferently, but that smile is still playing on his lips. When you go to tease him again, he says, “Will this even work?”

You shrug. “Only one way to find out.” Enchanting a cup, you snap your fingers to beckon towards you. You fill it to the brim with the potion then hand it to Yoongi.

He hovers the rim against his lips. Lost in thought or deliberation, you’re not sure. All you can tell is that it seems as though time has frozen for him.

“Yoong-”

“I don’t want wings,” he sighs. You blink back at him. He takes a breath before adding, “Not now, anyways.”

You look back to the pot, wondering if the entire thing might have been a mistake. He drops the cup into it without much care for the brew that spills and cups your face. “I don’t want wings tonight. I want you.”

“I’m right here?”

“I remember a little about what it was like to fly. Being with you reminds me of that,” he whispers.

Tear prick your eyes, disbelief holding your voice hostage. “Me?” You croak, in confusion. “Yoongi, I-”

He holds you closer and suddenly all your words die in your mouth. You’re not even sure what you were trying to say. Pressing his forehead against yours, he mutters your name like a prayer and whispers, “You’re all the wings I need.”

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

#bangtanfairygarden #networkbangtan #hyunglinenetwork #btswritingcafe #btswritersclub #btsguild #btsgoldnet #bangtanhq #ficswithluv #houseofddaeng #magicshopnet #min yoongi smut #yoongi smut #suga smut #bts fanfic #bts smut

1K notes · View notes