#like i've READ these books and i'm still always like oh could this be. friends at the table? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

helloledena · 6 months ago

Text

Uh-oh... I'm falling in love~

Synopsis: Kakashi though he had everything under control, especially his feelings. But one ninja from Village hidden in mist was enough to change that. Oh how wrong he was...

Pairing: Kakashi x Reader (but in Kakashi's pov 🙂‍↕️)

Content: fem! reader, slow burn, strangers to "something" to lovers, light smut, mention of depression, lot's of thoughts, lot's of confusion.

Word count: 8.3k (😬)

A/N: Kakashi's character is so complex and hot and hard to write and hot and tragic but hot, so yeah, love him so much *.*

pervert.

When the saleswoman at his favorite bookstore gave him a raised eyebrow, all Kakashi could do was smile while scratching the back of his head in a manner that reeked of humor.

"I understand why you wanted to read Make-out Paradise… but now even the other two books?"

"What can I say, it really drew me in."

"And.. you say you've read it..."

"Yes, I've read it three times already, I think it's time to find out what happens in the sequel, don't you think? Hahaha" he let his body wiggle a little, and his free eye rolled up into a smile.

"Pervert," the girl muttered as she slid off the counter and went to get more books.

The ninja tiredly scanned the other books on display on the counter. The well-known novel "Life of a shinobi: Honor or Death" caught his eye. With a soft sigh, he picked up the book, turned it upside down, and began to stare at the wall clock that didn't actually work.

He would never admit it out loud, but reading an erotic novel, in which the most exciting thing is actually the various lovemaking positions, had become his new favorite way to distract himself. The distraction from the dead bodies he was cleaning after massacre several months prior; from the feeling of total guilt of allowing Itachi, the boy with soft eyes and always a calm expression on his face Itachi, to go and slaughter everyone in his clan; from death of his friends..

Not to speak of it, he realized that nothing calmed him as much as re-reading the same book with the light and warm plot. The fact that he could relive what he knew would end well gave him a sense of comfort that he hadn't experienced in a long time. Life was bearable again. Just a bit. Just a little bit more, he didn't want to kill himself.

"Your books," mumbled the saleswoman into her chin, still clearly under the impression, as she quickly took the money from him "enjoy the rest of your day."

"Thank you. Be sure that I will. Ha! I mean... not in that way..." the now blushing girl looked at him as if he had gone completely mad. He felt his own cheeks slowly warming up "well, anyway... I'm going now. You! You have a nice day... really nice day..."

His smiling aura slid at a moment as he left the shop. He put the third part of “Make-Out” in his shoulder bag, while opening the second one as he walked slowly in an unknown direction. What is he gonna do now? Maybe he should go to get some ramen? But he failed to keep Obito's promise, he couldn't save Rin from death, his father wasn't there to see how much he had progressed. Perhaps he could go back to that cursed rock again. Yeah, that seems like better idea.

"Kakashi!!!" he heard Gai shouting for him from a distance "my eternal rival!!!! Come! Let’s see who can drink more sake before nightfall!!"

But he just continued walking, looking at the first page of the book. He reminded himself that if he does not get involved no one would die because of him. If he doesn't intervene, it wouldn't hurt as much if someone from them died. If he doesn't get involved, perhaps those damn stubborn people would finally realize how truly awful person he is.

When he reached the next corner between streets, he was about to run the rest of the way, but a melodic voice froze him in his tracks.

"Are ninjas in this silly village not taught manners?" He turned and saw a girl leaning against one of the buildings at the corner. How, in the hell, hadn't he noticed her presence before? He decided to let his visible eye wander into a something that seemed like smile.

"I really don’t know what you’re talking about…"

"Pfft" the girl continued to lean her head against the wall, staring at Kakashi with a smirk on her face; her relaxed body language contradicted the words she spoke to him, as if she wasn't intimidated in the slightest "The famous copy ninja Kakashi Hatake, known to all bounty hunters, his name written in more bingo books than can be counted... Yet, you appear to be even more of a creep than the old man who wrote that perversion you're reading"

Kakashi felt strange at her words, gripping his kunai knife tightly in the pocket of his pants. Was she an enemy? He quickly surveyed the area suspiciously as he seemed to be merely searching for a more comfortable way to stand. Hidden Mist Village headband... what the hell?

"Well.." now he was looking cautiously in the direction of the girl "you talk about manners, and you didn't introduced yourself... very hypocritical, don't you think?"

"Hmmm" the girl smiled again, and then pulled out a scroll from her pocket that opened in front of Kakashi "I have permission. And besides, I'm done with my work for now, so I’ll be leaving today. I was just wondering if you really are as cold hearted as everyone says..."

"And?" he looked away from the scroll, returning his gaze to the book that he still held open in his left hand "are they right?"

"I can only say that I'm disappointed" he felt the girl shrug her shoulders "well, see you next time, pervert."

He just hummed. Before he turned and continued walking towards that cursed, stupid rock, he heard the voice again.

"Oh, and did you hear," he looked and she was smiling very widely; something hot filled his stomach "that now the 4th part is being written? I mean, the creepy old man... you already know who I'm talking about."

She winked and disappeared from his sight as silently as she had come. As he continued to observe the now empty space where she had been a second ago, he felt feverishly lucky that he had not learned the girl's name. And if something happened to her, her name would not appear before his eyes in his nightmares.

mercy.

It was the 4th day of the chunin exams and Kakashi couldn't sit and wait any longer. The link with the birds that were relaying information about the happenings had been cut since Orochimaru had magically appeared, then disappeared. He felt nervous. He felt nervous and noticed that it came out in the way he peeled an orange, in the way he would grip the doorknob when he left the room to get some air, and in the way his leg bounced every now and then.

Perhaps he shouldn't have been so harsh with Iruka a few days earlier, saying that his students were now warriors. But he knew that if he had shown even a fraction of the insecurity he felt, his decision would not have carried the authority that now have. So because he wanted his ego to remain intact he left the company of the other jonin, who would probably feel his nervousness at any moment, then climbed onto the roof of the Hokage building and let the sun caress him.

They have the best chance to survive in the shinobi world if they ruthlessly face every obstacle. They have the best chance to survive in the shinobi world if they ruthlessly face every obstacle. I did not send them to their deaths. I did not send them to their deaths. Kakashi repeated those sentences to himself more than he would like to admit.

With big sigh he opened the 3rd book of Make-Out and stared blankly at the pages.

"Hahahaha, wait, wait, you're still reading that nonsense? How long has it been? 4 years?"

His smile curved beyond his will, though she didn't see it because of his mask. He didn't hear her when she got closer to him, like few years prior. How wonderful...

"And who are you?" he looked at her now with his head tilted to the side.

"Oh, that hurts, you know" said the girl with a sneer in her voice, sliding next to him "I know I'm not that *ultra famous* like you are, but we've already met. Plus even I have a target on my head now. These criminals' bingo books, blah blah" and Kakashi was aware of that. When he was in the Land of Waves on a mission with his team, about a month ago, he took Zabuza's bingo book with him. As he flipped through the pages he saw a familiar face, although for a moment he was slightly unsure if it was the girl he met a few years ago. The scar on her cheek was new...

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

Name: y/n

Rank: unknown, approach with caution

Village of Origin: A Hidden Mist village, Land of Water

Known Techniques: water manipulation, blood manipulation

Orders: wanted dead or alive

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

"Ah, many new faces lately..." he cooed while watching over village in those quiet moments. How the hell she keep finding him when he is alone? And he didn’t have much alone time since becoming leader od Team 7.

"By the way, your kids are holding up well there, as far as I could see" - now he looked at her "if I hadn't seen other things in my life, I would say that they are very young. But we both know it could have been worse. They'll finish the obstacle... they had that crazy determined look in their eyes about half a day ago."

"Search birds are not working for 3 days now."

"Ah well, we "watermen" don't use birds for surveillance. That's what you should have learned at your sweet little academy."

"The fact that you're not on the organizing team for this exams and yet have your own means of monitoring shouldn't surprise me?" Kakashi knew more than he asked. The ninja of the Village Hidden in the Mist were not at all interested in the official ninja ranking that the other villages held so dearly. They were ruthless warriors, deadly as soon as they left the academy, probably even then at chunin level. Now this is simply gathering information… he was aware of that from the moment the first registration from that village for the chunin exams in the last 7 years came. Only Kakashi wanted to know why…

"You know" the girl now closed her eyes and laid so still for a few minutes that the copy ninja thought she fell asleep "even though the rest of the ninjas in my village are furious because of what happened to Zabuza, I'm very grateful to you. I mean, I really wasn't the least bit touched by anything that happened to that... that.. him. But the way you treated Haku's body…"

Kakashi felt his stomach acid rising in his throat. Haku... another mistake of his. Another victim of chidori that shouldn't have been. Haku had a soul as pure as snow, Haku should have escaped... Haku shouldn't have ended up like Rin.

"In any case" now she opened her eyes, slightly teary, keeping Kakashi rooted in place "you showed mercy that our village has not experienced in a long time. Thank you for that. Especially since it was a boy who was kind."

Kakashi let out a soft breath although to his ears it was almost as loud as a scream. No one had ever seen him that way. No one had ever called him merciful... He felt dizzy... what the hell was this woman doing to him...

"Didn't you say last time that you made sure I'm cold-blooded like everyone says?"

"I think I actually said that I was disappointed. And by disappointed, I meant that I was expecting someone with a dirty aura, and I got something completely opposite."

Kakashi hummed, now loking at the village. But still feeling her eyes on him.

"And didn't you say you don't remember me?"

"Huh. Tushe."

stupid distraction.

Ever since he saw y/n at the time of chunin exams, Kakashi actually, even 6 months later, hasn't stopped seeing her. It turns out that y/n has actually been in high demand in the Lands of Water since last January, with a huge bounty on her head. Words circulated that with her blood manipulation, she forced the Mizukage's own brother to cut himself bit by bit with his blade until he died by his own hand in a pool of blood. Rumor has it that she left a letter written in his blood which said that his death was compensation for the rape of the girls from the Village Hidden in the Mist, one of whom is her cousin. Since blood revenge is completely justified in the villages of more southern longitude, the Mizukage made all the criminals of those villages duty to kill y/n on the spot or bring her alive. That's why she is in all bingo books.

He hadn't heard much about on whose permission she was in Konoha before, but when Tsunade came back and became Hokage she gave y/n asylum and declared her an auxiliary force. It turns out that during the chunin exams, she helped the village a lot in monitoring the enemy even though she didn't have to and therefore Tsunade befriended her very quickly.

What Kakashi really couldn't understand at the begining was how everyone got close to her so quickly. He found himself pretty often following y/n as she moved around Konoha, looking for anything that would make his suspicion justified. He watched when she stops by the market for fresh fruits and veggies, or talks to Kurenai in the street with a big smile, or when she practices her water control by the stream next to half a kilometer from the memorial stone. He wished he could just stand next to her and feel the warmth radiating from her up close again as she squirmed when she talked.

Which was out of the question now, sure, because she didn't want to talk to him anymore. But it certainly didn't stop him from being attracted to her warmth. Of course, it wasn't like that for the whole 6 months, it even seemed to him that she enjoyed being in his company for the first month. She kept popping up, each time making no sound as usual and going on and on about how Naruto had gotten stronger, how Kakashi needed to be more gentle with Sasuke, how maybe it was better for Sakura to learn 1 on 1 new techniques to help her reach personal, not someone else's potential. She told him how in her village she liked to go to the banks of the harbor early in the morning and look for children who were fishing by themselves and to use her "magic" to pull out a few fish. They would laugh and call y/n princess of the sea. With a very serious expression on her face she listed endless crazy reasons why Kakashi could wear a mask and swore in front of everyone present (even though they were actually alone) that one day she would find out what his face looked like. And when she talked she was beautiful.. actually, she was always beautiful. He mostly listened in silence, allowing the warm feeling in his chest to grow little by little with each of their conversations. He realized that he began to take the path to the memorial stone more often where there was a better chance of her jumping out. Once, she even came along with him as far as the stone itself, bowed and stood quietly for a while before whispering "at least you have a place to mourn your loved ones."

However, that huddled routine that Kakashi looked forward to more than he'd like to admit stopped 10 days after Sasuke disappeared, and he ran into her for the first time after the failed mission. "You shouldn't blame yourself, you did everything you could" she was silent for a few minutes "I don't think you really could have stopped him.. you said yourself that Sasuke was stubborn. If you managed to bring him home, the question is whether he would still want to be a part of the team...". When Kakashi was still silent and tried to turn and leave she spoke again "When I lost my cousin I couldn't sleep for days, I blamed myself and wanted to die. But I realized that what was happening to us was inevitable, if she had survived then maybe the Mizukage would have sent his guards and...” “You trying to cover your guilt with failed excuses shows what person you are like.. I will not live in such a miserable field” when the anger came out of him with that sentence Kakashi realized how wrong he was and tried to speak again, but a cold "I got it, go bathe in guilt if that's what you want" cut him off with eyes that glared at him. Y/n left after that and didn't speak to him again to this day.

So he was left to watch her from a distance. In moments when he felt lonely he blamed her. He often let his frustration get the better of him and then tried to talk to others about his doubts and pin his ugly feelings on y/n. Unfortunately for him, everyone loved her, starting with Gai who was finally getting a talkback about the flower of youth and someone with whom his passionate level would be similar.Kurenai finally felt close to a female ninja and laughter could always be heard from Tsunade's office when she was in. Genma showed a closeness to her like he hadn't with anyone in a long time... Kurenai even mentioned that they went on a date after some difficult mission. Which is perfectly fine and didn't leave Kakashi choking on a feeling he hadn't felt before at all. Hot again, but not in a nice way, it even felt a little like anger. And now he was standing in the Hokage's office wondering how a ninja with chakra that was impaled on a water core could cause so much fire.

"Well Kakashi, it's time for another S-rank mission" Tsunade smiled at him, holding sake in her left hand. It was already dusk and her paperwork work was due in about an hour, so her advisors weren't in the room "I hope you had enough time to rest."

"And if I said I didn't, it wouldn't change the situation much" he wasn't looking anywhere in particular while keeping his hands in his pockets. He was on the last mission for a full 3 weeks. Of course he was chakra exhausted. Of course he felt tired. Of course he wanted to do nothing but sleep, read Make-out, and visit the memorial stone. And check out what y/n is doing…

"You know yourself that the level of missions has increased since the death of the 3rd Hokage and the destruction of the village. All our enemies strike us now because they're hoping to catch us in weakness. Unfortunately we don't have enough jonin to cover the steady increase in S rank missions...so there is no time for long breaks. This one is especially hard, so you'll get an escort."

"Ah, escort..." now he was looking at the ceiling, how interesting tiles... "didn't you say that sending couple jonin rank ninjas on a mission is a waste of resources? That it should be done only in exceptional cases? Or you've actually started caring about me? In that case my heart is about to break…"

"This is an exceptional case, Kakashi" Tsunade got up from the chair and sat on the table directly observing Kakashi "the fact is that many jonin go on missions with their genin and chunin and they consider it a kind of vacation, because all those missions are B rank at worst. However, that privilege has been taken away from you since Sasuke escaped and Naruto went to train who knows where with Jiraiya" when she noticed that Kakashi would not respond to her remark she sighed deeply and continued "since this mission involves going into enemy territory you will take escort."

"Enemy territory?"

"Land of Waves to be precise. Y/n was already notified this morning that she has been assigned an S rank mission and will need to be your guide and support."

"Y/n?!" Kakashi felt his anger spreading through his body, so he tried with all his might, fists clenched in his pockets, to calm his breathing; he spoke very slowly and quietly "y/n has a huge bounty on her head in those villages. Or did you miss that? They will kill her as soon as she gets close."

"The scroll that was stolen is very important to Konoha, Kakashi " she held the tip of the nose with her eyes closed "y/n knows the risk and she accepted it. It was her duty at the end of the day" as she looked at him determinedly "as it was yours to take orders from the Hokage. You have a mission to complete, and for efficiency you'll bring a guide with you, who, if I must remind you, is also a jonin who does S-rank missions. You will take care of each other."

"You can't send her with me" he couldn't stop his legs from getting a little closer to her "you can't send her there, it will only be a big distraction."

"The decision has been made" she handed him the scroll looking at him resolutely "the deadline for the mission is 1 week. If you do not return by then, help will be sent to you. All the details are in the scroll, I expect a successful report when you return. That's it, you can go."

"But, Lady Tsunade –"

"That's it Kakashi" a small crack was heard from the wood of the table that cracked under Tsunade's pressure "you can go."

Damn it he thought.

i’m so sorry.

"Of course you're late" y/n looked at Kakashi leaning against the wall of village gate, her bag on the floor between her legs.

"You won't believe what an infestation of angry geese was in front of my house" he smiled at her, scratching the back of his head.

"Yes, yes. Move then..." she just walked away leaving him standing there for a few moments staring at her. He wondered if she knew where he was going before every mission. He wondered if she could see through his acting with that haunting gaze.

After few hours passed, in not so pleasant but endurable silence, air was getting colder. Kakashi felt his fingers slowly tingle, frantically trying to warm them in his pockets.

"Fuck.." muttered next to him y/n holding a finger in the air that was covered in water and her chakra "fuck, fuck."

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly, observing their surroundings. They were around 25 kilometers away from Konoha for a pretty short time because they were running most of the way wanting to reach the border of Land of Water by evening. It's only about an hour to the small town. They were currently in an open area and Kakashi desperately wanted to get out of the way as soon as possible.

"Once every few years Land of Water gets a period of so-called „false winter“"y/n blurted out through her teeth, keeping her gaze still on the water that was wrapped around her finger "you see? There is a thin layer of hoarfrost gathering on the surface. It's not cold enough to freeze, but maybe, in 2 days, it will be enough."

"And what do those winters look like? Should we expect snow?"

"Probably not. The problem with this winters is that they are very cold and wet. On the other hand they never last more than a week. But people freeze to death because winters come so suddenly, so we have to be very careful. And of course, to return home as soon as possible."

"Clearly..." Kakashi spoke in a moment, swearing at his fate. This mission probably couldn't get any worse.

He watched y/n wipe hands on her pants, and warming the hand she had attached the water to by slowly blowing into it. He couldn't resist the urge and slowly put his hand on her shoulder. She looked at him with a look that almost brought him to his knees. Honest, clean, which allows the color of her eyes to completely come to the fore.

"Don't worry" he said quietly, now in some incomprehensible fear of not scaring her further, and with a huge desire to slowly dance his fingers on her face... to get rid of every concern "we will finish this mission successfully. Everything will be alright."

"Mhm" the girl in front of him uttered a falsely cheerful voice "and even if something happens, you won't have to swim in pool of pathetic excuses so I'm not even worried about you" she slipped out of his touch with the speed of an eye blink "it's time to go and find a room if we don't want to sleep in the cold."

"Y/n..." he tried

"Come on" she interrupted him already ready for a new round of running "don't lose sight of me."

When they arrived at the room they had barely rented as it was the last one in a shack at the very end of a famous town, within reach of a Village Hidden in Mist, Kakashi thanked every exalted being that existed for the 2 large separte beds in their room. As he made the beds, placed the maps on the floor of the room, took the food out of his bag, he listened to the sound of the shower coming out of the bathroom and suddenly he felt terribly hot. Although he had never been intimate with a woman... or anyone really, out of constant fear of getting hitched and that person dying, Kakashi actually often felt very lustful. It had appeared in flashbacks before, when he saw a pretty girl at one of his missions, when he passed a public women's bath, when he was reading his books... however he had never wanted something or someone so much that it made him act on that lust. The present moment, on the other hand, was driving him completely insane. Yes, he thought y/n was very very beautiful and her strong character was surprisingly attractive. He thought her smile was as sweet as honey and there was nothing warmer than her beautiful disposition. And yes, sure, one time when they happened to be together in a bar with mutual friends, not talking to each other of course, he got surprisingly turned on by one look at her bare legs. Although now he thought that that arousal could not even be considered arousal because what he was feeling right now was 10 times stronger. When he realized that if he continued like this he would either go crazy, or unwillingly go and do something.. with her, or cum within a full minute Kakashi went into deep concentration considering the mission.

After a few minutes y/n came out in a plain t-shirt and shorts, no bandages on her arms and legs so now he could see a lot of small cuts on the lenght of her arms. He felt that she could see that he was looking at her and he just kept his eyes on her waiting for her to speak.

"We have very hard endurance training as kids" y/n muttered noticing Kakashi is staring at her "they're not as gentle with us at the academy as they are with you. Especially if you are female."

"I understand" he looked at her with full attention "it must have been difficult for you."

"Of course it was" she threw herself on the bed with a sigh, letting her wet hair fall on the pillow "although we don't talk much about it. What happened happened."

"Does it bother you that I saw?" he left the question floating in the air. Her thighs were dripping with water that she hadn't wiped off. He wondered what it would feel like to run his lips over them.

"No" she fell silent a little and looked him directly in the eye "even though I don't agree with you about some things, I believe you. I've seen how you treat others. You always put someone else's life before your own and I really appreciate that. So the result is that I'm not ashamed of who I am right now. At least not in front of you."

Kakashi's legs walked on their own towards the bed where y/n lay. He wanted to comfort her, he wanted to kiss every cut on her body, he wanted to show her that she can show her vulnerable side. When she saw him coming towards her y/n sat down in a meditation pose leaving room for the ninja to sit on the other end of the bed which he did. When some time had passed Kakashi removed the headband from his other eye and looked at her with both eyes open. He noticed how the girl in front of him was trying like hell not to stare at his sharingan now, her eyes darting left and right as she paid attention to both eyes.

"I'm so sorry" mumbled Kakashi "I'm so fucking sorry for what I said the last time we spoked. If I could, I would do everything differently."

She watched him quietly. Then uncertainly reached out a shaky hand and touched his scar just below his eye which made Kakashi wince. What the hell was he thinking?! If she wanted to, she could have dug out his eye and taken it to the enemy!

"Sleep. Tomorrow is a tough one" he spoke harshly when, without looking at her again, he stood up and went to take a shower. Then hating himself, he entered the room again and saw her pretending to sleep with slightly red eyes from crying.

regrets.

The next day, they were already passing few small communites, moving through the Land of Waves. They only had a few more hours of walking left before they entered the Village Hidden in the Mist, and darkness was already slowly falling. Both of them had bought long coats on their way out of the city, so that the cold, which was slowly but surely getting into their bones, could be endured. However, Kakashi was feverishly aware of one thing – this all seemed too easy. They hadn't encountered a single ninja so far, there was no sign of anyone noticing who y/n was and the road was passable without control.

"Probably because of the cold " y/n mumbled trying to gather the cold mist into droplets on her palm when Kakashi shared his worries with her "I told you people doesn't handle it well enough in these parts."

"Hmm" he watched as the mist and chakra slowly danced and merged at the tip of her palm, making water "it would certainly be good if we didn't linger here for much longer. Considering how in demand you are here and how cold it can be."

"It's good that we left most of the things in that hut" now she let the water slowly drip from her fingers "being overloaded would only slow us down. And since sleeping in any hut here is not an option because of our bountys, and sleeping outside is not because of the cold, we can only finish the mission tonight and return to the hut tomorrow night."

"Sure thing, lady" he hummed.

It was the dead of night when they were half a kilometer from the base, which did not seem protected. Guards were probably inside because of the cold, Kakashi thought. The fog enveloped them and honestly suffocated him slightly even with the mask he always wore. When the wind blew, it would whip his face and make him shake for a moment. It was very cold. He watched as y/n looked at the white rabbit with small cut on right ear in confusion, crouching. He took out his kunai sorry little guy.

"No" she spoke quietly next to him "white rabbits are not always a distraction... don't worry."

"I hope you didn't trick me...trust me i will find out and it won't end well for you."

She glared at him, tilting her head to the side... a sarcastic smile moved to adorn her lips.

"How are you not ashamed?" she whispered, but because of the silence of the night he heard her very well "I sacrificed myself for your village in this half year than for mine my whole fucking life" she poked him in the chest with her finger "I was more polite to you than you deserve. And I would have fucking killed you in your sleep last night if I wanted to."

"You remained as fiery and hot as the last time I saw you" spoke a voice from the shadows behind them. Kakashi lifted his headband and grabbed the shuriken in his pockets. However a stiff y/n caught his attention more.

"Y/n" the copy ninja cracked "y/n what's going on?!"

"Shino..." she whispered confusedly looking into the darkness. How the hell do these swamp ninjas manage to be so damn quiet??

"What's up beautiful," out of the darkness, where y/n was looking, a tall ninja came out with the band of the village hidden in the mist hanging around his neck. His entire body except face was covered in bandages and a blade similar to Zabuza's was attached to his back… this is not good "you know I missed you."

"You tried to kill me" Kakashi watched y/n holding outstretched hand in front of her, chakra on the surface of her palm trembled slightly "I trusted you and you tried to kill me."

"Princess" a sneer was heard in his voice, he raised both hands above his head as if he wanted to show her that he did not want to hurt her "business is business, nothing personal."

"I loved you and you tried to kill me" her voice trembled as she turned her hand upwards and the ninja fell to his knees still with a smile on his face, his blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight

Kakashi tried to use the Sharingan to quickly assess the situation, but realized that there was nothing to be gained from it. The fog was too thick, the night was too dark and he didn't fucking know what to do. Should he summon Pakun? Should he kill the asshole on the spot?

"I see you still like bad boys, princess. But you yourself know that in the end you are regretted by everyone, in the end everyone sees how weak you are." Shino spoke with difficulty on his knees, a grimace on his face, probably due to blood manipulation "you still chose none other than Kakashi of sharingan. I'm impressed" he was looking at Kakashi now, a dirty smile returning to his lips "you know the redwater brothers want you dead ever since you killed Zabuza... that wasn't nice of you Kakashi."

"Ah, business is business, isn't it, nothing personal" Kakashi smiled with his eyes.

"Hah" Shino looked at y/n again "honestly, I never even loved you. What has to happen happens."

Then several things happens at once. Kakashi saw the ninja on his knees turning into water with his sharingan, and heard rustling behind them. Fucking water clone.

"Fucking shit -" Kakashi whispered furiously under his breath, quickly turning on his heels and activating chidori. A few seconds passed before he stood behind y/n shielding her back and pierced the spot where Shino's heart was with his chidori. The ninja fell from his hand, along with his blade with a dull thud. Kakashi turned to look at y/n who was looking at him with wide eyes and felt a searing pain in his chest. With a low curse he fell to his knees as he realised that he was almost cut open in half.

"No!" y/n shouted as she quickly knelt in front of him with her hands glowing with chakra "Kakashi, Kakashi, keep your eyes on mine."

Is this it? He thought as his head reeled. Although his eyes seemed to be open, he saw nothing. He only heard the soft sound of chakra vibrating somewhere nearby and shallow breats. Maybe some whimpers. But he wasn't sure.

"Kakashi! I will never talk to you again if you die now" a distant soft voice cracked "I can't lose you. I don't want to lose you."

"I l-lied" he spoke quietly, not sure if she heard him at all, but he tried anyway "you are very brave... so brave it scares me... So, of c-c-course you are not week. Of course you're not a dis-straction. Of course I don't regret going here with y-you."

"Look at me, I'm begging you."

The last atoms of power Kakashi focused on what appeared to be y/n's face. When his vision sharpened a little he saw a smile or a twitch, he wasn't quite sure, and the beautiful color of the eyes that he had come to love so much.

"You are so beautiful."

lavander.

When Kakashi woke up in a dark room that smelled of lavender he was sure he was dead. He tried to blink hard a few times and shake the sleep from his eyes before he managed to sit up. His mask was still there, though he was dressed in plain clothes and covered with a thick blanket. Although he was warm, the air in room was cold. He realized that he was in the hut where he and y/n had left their things before they went to the Land of Waves. When he turned to the right he saw lavender in a pot and a small letter. He took the letter and began to read.

By all accounts you should wake up before I’m back. I left medicinal herbs, tea and food on your table. Don't even think of touching the bandage. I managed to sew up the wound completely, but it's better that the bandage soaked with medicinal water stays until I return, just in case. Of the flowers in the local flower shop, there were only lavenders because of the winter, I hope you are not allergic. Hehe. I went to get that stupid scroll and finish the mission so I'll be back soon. Don't follow me. You lost a lot of blood and strength. Please wait. I'll be back, trust me.

P.S. I didn't peek under your mask. Pinky promise.

Those few hours in which Kakashi drank all the tea, ate all the food and thought about the best way to go after her, felt like days. He realized with great amazement that y/n had somehow managed to heal entire wound which now only itched, not hurt. He felt very exhausted as he looked out the window at the rain falling wrapped in a blanket. It must have been terribly cold outside. How many days did he sleep? How is y/n? Is she hurt? What if they catch her and kill her? What if she's already dead? How many days has she actually been out of the hut? If she is dead he will kill everyone who is responsible. But he is responsible... He let his guard down and let that jerk almost kill him and that's why y/n is out there alone now. He won't be able to live with himself if she's dead. He was too tired. He will rest for only half an hour more and then he will leave. Towards her. Yes, that sounds like a good idea.

Knock knock.

Kakashi stood up with his heart pounding. They found him. But if they found him that means they will wait there for y/n to come back and then kill her easily. He took the kunai, opened the sharingan eye and cautiously approached the door. He wouldn’t let that happen. When he flung open the door he saw y/n with gentle eyes watching him, a scroll in one hand, a Shino’s blade in the other. She was wearing a normal ninja uniform and was soaked to the core. Y/n smiled widely at him but fatigue was very visible on her face. Her body was shaking uncontrollably from the cold.

"Oh thank heavens, you're awake" it came as sigh from her lips "I didn't want to drop any of this on the floor. Sorry if you had to get up. Everything went smoothly. Mission is complete."

He quietly helped her inside, took the things from her hands and put them on the floor. When he went to turn on the shower so that somehow hot water would warm up y/n he realized that there was no use because the water had frozen in the pipes.

"The shower doesn't work" he rasped and realized that it was probably the first thing he had said in days "change into something dry. We need to warm you up."

Kakashi then placed 2 blankets over each other on his bed and pulled y/n who was now only in a t-shirt and shorts (because that was the only thing dry) into bed with him. He hugged her tightly, limbs completely intertwined, his hands rubbing hers, trying to bring some warmth back into her body. All this with full awareness of how she was lying next to him in just shorts and a t-shirt. He fought the growing erection in his underwear, thinking about anything but the woman in his arms that he wanted more than anything else.

"I thought you were going to die" she spoke quietly against his chest, probably more to herself than to him, but he certainly heard her very clearly.

"You saved my life, Thank you" he mumbled against her hair.

Now she cocked her head hard and fast locking her eyes with his, fire in them, just the way Kakashi loved it.

"If it wasn't for you, I would be dead" she snapped angrily, holding his gaze with hers, now he kept his sharingan eye open "I just did one tolerable, but miserable thing."

"You are extraordinary. Really. I’m all heald now thanks to you. When I woke up today I felt like whole new person. Thank you" he lightly touched her cheek with his hand "And I don't know if that went through your crazy little head, but the last thing I want is to let people I care about die while I'm just watching from the sidelines. That very much includes you."

As if momentarily embarrassed, she looked away from him and brought her head back to rest on his chest. She breathed deeply.

When he noticed that the normal temperature was slowly returning to her body and the shivers stopped being so strong Kakashi let out a soft laugh.

"I don’t believe a thing you say,"

"What?" y/n cocked her head again looking into Kakashi's one open eye with a confused expression. That made him grin even wider.

"I don't believe you didn't look under the mask."

The girl in his arms scoffed looking at him with mocking eyes "My curiosity is big, but not so much that I want to play dirty. If i really wanted to see what's underneath I'd make you show me yourself."

"And?" Kakashi felt his breath slowly run out of anticipation "do you want to see it that badly?"

She looked at his mask silently then studied his open eye.

"You want to show me?" she asked quietly, and he just continued to watch her, with an unknown glow. She slowly removed both hands from the blanket and ran her fingers to the top of his mask. Her hands were shaking slightly and Kakashi realized with something, ah here it is again, very warm in his stomach that she wasn't shaking from the cold this time. Y/n slowly removed the mask from his face as he watched her carefully. When the whole cloth was finally removed, she sighed deeply. A soft smile graced her lips.

"Ah, what a disappointment" her gaze circled all over his face "nothing of the huge lips and horse teeth."

Kakashi felt his lips curl into a smile. He hugged her a little tighter.

"You are so beautiful. Gorgeous even." she looked him in the eye and now he was terribly, terribly hot all over. No one ever addressed those words to him. His body just moved closer to her until her lips were only inches away from his. He felt her breath brush his lips. He was waiting for her to do something… anything.. to give him the green light. Because no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't move on his own. Such tender and fragile moments were not frequent in his life, and suddenly he was terribly afraid of breaking this too. However when y/n pressed her lips to his all worries were quickly erased from his mind.

They kissed deeply and slowly as he ran his hands all over her body. He made sounds he didn't know he was capable of, but realized that nothing compared to her sighs and moans from the kiss. He slowly moved from her lips to her neck which he had been watching for so long as they talked months from now, taking deep breaths.

"How perfect you are" he murmured as she melted in his arms. She ran her hands first over his shoulders, then his back, finally letting her hands go under his shirt. He moaned burying his head deeper into her neck.

"Kakashi..." came out of her mouth like a plea, as if it was too much for her.

"I know y/n, I know," he breathed a big, hard sigh as he held her hips tightly so she wouldn't move against him anymore. It was very clear to him that she felt how much he wanted her. And he now wanted her to show her how much he wanted her "can I touch you?"

She looked at him with a warm look and red cheeks, then nodded briskly.

He let his hand dance from her neck, over her stomach, down to her lower abdomen where he pressed his hand firmly.

He kissed all over her hands, all the little cuts he'd seen just a few days before.

"Perfect. So fucking perfect. Lift your hips for me pretty girl" he whispered softly.

When he took off her shorts and realized how wet she was, he almost cummed In his pants at that moment.

He just touched her enterance briefly and she moaned leaning into his touch. Nothing has happened yet and he was so fucking turned on. Turned on by her smooth skin, maddening smell, her sighs, moans... This is 100x better than any erotic novel. He slowly kissed her clit, than licked it experimentally. Y/n closed her eyes and left her hands flying to his hair, hips bucking up to meet his mouth.

'Look at me, let me see you" he darkly whispered against her pussy, looking at her with his both eyes. He then licked and sucked her swollen clit, eyes never leaving hers, making her moaning mess.

"Fuck Kakashi, fuck" she cried pressing one hand against her mouth, than changing mind and letting that hand grip on his hair too "i need you now. Please."

He stopped for a second watching her.

"Are you.. -"

"Yes, yes, and don’t you fucking dare to leave now."

"Sure thing pretty lady" he smiled against her heat.

He took his time, exploring every exposed piece of skin now that he took her t-shirt off too. He blinked open the sharingan again and he was so damn happy that he could predict how she would react to every touch. He looked at her; sprawled out underneath him, with her face flushed, lips swollen.

"Have I ever told you that you are perfect?" he had that boyish smile now, looking at her lovingly.

"Pervert" she grinned while kissing him quickly.

"Ah yes" he left few kisses to her neck again "I remember you calling me that a few times" he put his fingers on her clit making her to squirm with embarrassment.

"Please Kakashi" her voice was so fucking sweet "I need you. Please."

"Need you too" he mumbled against her lips "so much. My beautiful girl."

Then all he could feel was her. She clouded all five senses and he felt like he was going insane. It was over far too quickly.

"Madness" he whispered in her ear and nuzzled her neck, thrusting deep and steady "you are madness."

He gave a few last thrusts and reached down with his hand to help her finish. It wasn’t long until she was writhing and whimpering underneath him.

He kissed the top of her head before he pulled her into him protectively, feeling sleepy. Enjoying the feeling of her skin flush against his, her sweet smell and now steady breaths he felt his body completely relaxing.

As he slowly drifted off to sleep he asked quietly against her hair "do you want to go out sometime?"

#kakashi smut #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake #kakashi #kakashi x you #kakashi ff #kakashi sensei #naruto #naruto smut #smut #slow burn #in love #anime #fancition #anime smut #kakashi x y/n

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whoskimii · 7 months ago

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this is part two of putting on and taking off your jewelry with the jjk men!!

⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > jjk boys (yuuji, megumi) x you (separately). they're so cute :(( tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

˗ˏˋ yuuji itadori ´ˎ˗

he looked up from his laptop, only to be greeted by the sight of you taking off your jewelry. you were supposed to go out, why were you already getting unready ?

"hey," he called. "what're you doin' ? i thought you were supposed to go out." you only hummed. "yeah, i was supposed to. turns out my friend is sick so she canceled last minute." your boyfriend nodded. "oh, alright. and you don't want to go out alone ?" you shook your head.

he stood up and made his way towards you. "wait. lemme do it," he began taking off your earrings before staring at them. "oh, that's the earrings i gave you for your birthday !" he smiled. "they're my favorites."

your boyfriend and your friends knew how crazy you were for jewelry. which resulted in you being gifted approximately two pairs of earrings, three necklaces, a ring and five bracelets at each birthday. and it still wasn't enough for you.

yuuji chuckled. "they suit you. a lot." you giggled. "you think so ?" he nodded. "yeah, it's like... i don't know, the color suits your eyes. makes them even prettier." you blushed. you had already been dating for two years but your boyfriend always knew how to make you flustered. "aw, thank you."

he took your hand and led you towards the bed. "c'mere. i wanna cuddle."

˗ˏˋ megumi fushiguro ´ˎ˗

megumi entered your room, hiding something behind his back. you lifted your head from your book and gave him a small smile. "hi, babe," he hummed. "hey. i wanted to give you something."

you smiled, growing excited. what could he possibly give you ? you had no idea, and that made you more eager.

he sat beside you and finally showed you the little box he had been hiding since he came here. "it's not much. made me think of you when i saw it." you grabbed the box and kissed his cheek. "thank you."

you untied the little bow from around the box before opening it. you gasped softly. a ring.

more precisely, the ring you had been craving for months. you giggled and looked at megumi. "are you kidding me, 'gumi ? it's not much ?" you repeated his words. "it's the ring i've been wanting !" your boyfriend's eyes widened a little as you jumped into his arms. he gently stroked your hair. "i'm glad you like it, then."

you pulled back from the warm embrace. "i don't like it, i love it. it's so pretty..." megumi grabbed the ring before taking your manicured hand in his. he slowly slid it around your middle finger before kissing your knuckles. "it looks even prettier on you." you squealed happily. "aw, 'gumi !" you jumped into his arms once again, which made him chuckle quietly. "yeah. seems like you're very happy." he smiled as you pecked his lips repeatedly.

there you go!! do you want to see somebody else :3

⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

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capslocked · 1 year ago

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KINKVEMBER DAY: 4

[prompt: roleplay] male reader x kang hyewon 8k words

“I need you,” Hyewon says in the uneasy dark of a hotel room, with two urgent fistfuls of your shirt, “need you to do to me all the things my husband never will.” “Yeah, I know,” you tell her, “you said that,” and her eyebrows move in all the wrong directions, “I’m just wondering if, you know, maybe we should give him a little more credit.”

Here’s the truth:

Hyewon doesn’t believe in leaving evidence behind and you don't find it particularly productive to doubt her; you’ve been talking in code for years. Parts and pieces of yourselves reduced down and bottled into set phrases that, to anyone else, would be totally incomprehensible.

"i've been thinking," she texts you, which you've come to understand means she's already made up her mind, "maybe we should do that thing we were talking about. tonight."

(You're not always so fast on the uptake.)

You send two back two texts, both of which ask "which thing?" because the hallway from the breakroom to your desk has poor reception and it never lets you send just one.

Then, right after you cross the threshold between signal-drowning-concrete and the glitzy glass-walled arboretum they've built to make you feel like you're not a total cog in their corporate machine, your phone pings the receipt of Hyewon's reply: a picture - her laptop, propped up on your coffee table with its screen angled for perusal, of a booking site that's filtered to show results for their 'king bed & view' room at a midrange hotel a forty-five-minute ride from your apartment.

"not really doing much narrowing down here hyewon."

She replies to you - her text bubble appearing over another couple still images, of herself in the vanity mirror as she curls her hair around her finger and holds this little black slip of a dress over her shoulder, black lacy lingerie in tow, the whole nine - with:

"i'm feeling kinda adventurous."

Five o’clock rolls around but you never really do figure it out. You spend the last three hours at work deciding which kink of hers (oh, does she have a few) this is all in service to.

There's nothing overtly sexual about her pics in the first place - not more than usual anyway, more showing off her curves and cut jaw than showcasing anything for her 'adventurous' intent. So that can't be the tell - you'd seen her in a corset once (you can't unsee it) and the angle of her hips to the mirror makes you think that if she was planning on pulling on a pair of crotchless panties then she probably would've found her thigh high stockings, too.

You try and think of what the two of you had even talked about when discussing these little scenes - how many times you'd ended up 'in the mood' during or after such a meeting of the minds, how it'd snowballed from there, a whole list of filthy what-ifs that she'd probably put more thought into than you ever have - but you draw a total blank. It could be any of a number of things.

Until,

"i left you instructions on the kitchen island," reads a text on your phone which you definitely don’t check while you’re driving -

And then it hits you.

"ah."

"yeah, 'ah'," she replies.

A quarter past seven at the hotel bar is way too early for any real promiscuous activity, but then again, you're here playing at pretend and half the fun of games like this is in the setup.

Meet me at the bar, your instructions read, introduce yourself, and play it by ear.

There's some couples at the other end, some friends downing shots by the round, people musing over their aperitifs, and a woman sipping alone at the bar - Hyewon, appearing to you from the back first:

The pointed edges of her shoulders narrow out over this tiny cocktail dress that somehow covers less of her than if it weren't there at all, skin tight, accentuating even her softest curves. She has her hair fixed a particular way - teased enough to flip at the ends but still a single sweep down her shoulders, pulled together softly by a ribbon in the back, tied like a fantasy, allowing a wispy strand to fall to her face - glossy and dark and glowing to this rich, deep mahogany where it's cast in the lamplight.

The line of her throat, of her chest. Where her hips meet her waist in a rounding flare. The effort and beauty she's gone to, for you - that she puts in every day just because she knows it gets your attention, can do more than turn a head or two; Hyewon's appearance is almost indifferent of you, only coincidental, but she puts on a damn good act.

(You look a lot more worn in comparison: jacket thrown over dress shirt and khakis, tie loose at the neck. Standard office attire with just a step-outside-regulation. Disheveled.)

A drink, you suppose - approaching the bar to try and catch the bartender's attention to order a single malt.

But if Hyewon's been waiting long, she doesn't complain when you pull into the stool beside her and sit for a long moment.

"Do you mind if I join you?" you say over a pair of politely folded hands - and that's generally where her 'instructions' end.

The look she fixes you with is just this unashamed smoldering, her body language this contradictory kind of lazy - cool, like her night was going exactly the way she planned but she still had places to be.

"It depends," she replies, one slender finger curled around the stem of her martini glass - which historically, is a drink she hates. "Who's asking?"

"Just me," you offer, letting the gesture and your tone leave it up to her. And then slowly, perhaps awkwardly: "ostensibly a complete and utter stranger who knows a gorgeous woman when he sees one - and who could never pass up a chance to see how the rest of her is."

"Smooth."

"I guess it is, considering you didn't immediately run for the exit."

Hyewon nearly snorts.

"Hard not to." She tilts her head back at you, assessing. Her cheeks are rosy pink. "A handsome thing like you doesn't usually buy themself a girl's time with flattery -"

"Buy your time or your drinks?" you tease, and you can tell she wants to roll her eyes - but she keeps them carefully lowered. Eyelashes dipping down like blackened fans.

Hyewon shifts slightly, resting her chin onto the heel of her wrist like she's leaning against an imaginary windowpane and tipping her face a little sideways. It makes you smile. "One gets the other, if you catch my meaning."

Maybe it takes you a little too long to lift your gaze off her lips to find her eyes, or off the sweeping curve of the hemline sitting high across her long legs, but she watches you for just a breath. It's a more telling moment that she pretends she doesn't know you.

"You can look at me if you like," and then without further preamble, she introduces herself with a slight tilt of the head and an expectant expression: "call me Hyewon."

You figure that if you've gotta say one word to get the ball rolling you want to say her name, and as a little revenge for forcing you to think on this scene and think on what to say, what your character would say, how exactly she wanted you to go about 'meeting' her in a hotel bar, how her fucking scenario's been building up in her head for god-knows-how-long (even though, in the scheme of the two of you and your relationship, it’s nowhere close to being the most demanding sex you've had), you reply simply with:

"Pretty."

It's satisfying, how she hesitates - pausing a little longer on your face to gauge exactly what you meant. Studying. But the next beat of your heart - or hers - is effortless, easy.

"I know. That's what my husband calls me."

"Husband?" You keep yourself from raising an eyebrow. "And I don't suppose I'm also... married?"

"Different day, different you."

"Meaning I have a wife or a mistress of my own," and you flick your wrist at the barkeep for a top-up of what's in front of Hyewon. "You're telling me I'm the kind of man who'd only settle for two."

It doesn't sound quite right, though Hyewon picks up on it. Doesn't let on. "Aren't men like you always? Charming to a fault, but always voracious - insatiable, especially with women like me."

"Women like you."

"Married women. Unavailable," she simpers, and in a practiced little motion, draws her hand out to where you can see it properly, this sparkle on her fourth finger that catches the lowlight of the bar. The diamond looks real - not that you'd actually know - and your stomach flexes up mid-somersault thinking about the financial impropriety for what amounts to a gag. A practical joke. Hyewon the comedian.

Still, you go with it and take her hand in yours, admiring. "What a pity." The glint off its faceted surface - Hyewon's watchful as she allows it.

"Isn't it," she agrees.

The more unnerving thing - besides how composed Hyewon can make herself be - is how the narrative quickly becomes a whole hell of a lot clearer with the context of marriage in play. She's mentioned it before: the infidelity thing, the way it leads to the raunchiest, filthiest bits she'll dare to explore. In some ways, her desire for the untouchable makes a lot more sense -

And maybe that's what had been nagging at your mind since she brought up the idea of playing the part: you always end up kissing in that stupid 'caught up' sort of way. With an intensity that's hard to beat. Even though you wouldn't ever cheat on her. Not in a million years. You'd watch her leave before doing anything like that.

But it's thrilling, almost, and even more thrilling that this isn't entirely improvisation: how well the two of you might actually play this off, as two total strangers to this illusory little roleplay that you'd normally say was your very last interest.

"But you know there's something I've come to appreciate about married men," Hyewon continues, her voice in this conspiratorial sort of hushed.

You blink, drawing her out.

"They know how to tie a knot."

There's the flirty wink, an upward flick of the chin that draws your eye to the span of her chest. To her body in that skin-hugging dress and your fingers entangled in hers - the gentle bump and shift of the bodies behind her, moving between the tables - Hyewon a queen of circumstance, playing to the moment as it bends; as her lips part in a pleased smile, red and smooth, almost innocent, and you can't help but imagine tasting her on your tongue, the force that'd take for her to yield when you finally got your hands in her hair.

(What a character, honestly.)

"Tell me something," you say, "why would a married woman, this pretty little thing like you, be all alone in a place like this - without her charming husband."

Hyewon's smile curls at the edges like smoke. "I never said he was charming."

You raise an eyebrow. "Good-looking, then."

"Never said as much either."

“Why are you with someone you find neither attractive nor charming?”

Hyewon makes a face, slightly pitied. “If that Isn’t what I’m asking myself everyday.”

"Hm." You narrow your eyes into something more quizzical than suggestive. It works on her anyway. "That doesn't feel too much like it's in character, Hyewon."

She shrugs, but it's that coy kind of shrug. She thinks you'll let her off easy - you usually do. All considered, she's the type who thrives off the chase and, as of today, so do you.

"But he is cute." Her expression is just this side of sweet, as she takes a dainty sip of her drink. Like the taste doesn’t bother her, like she isn't pretending she doesn't hate it with every fiber of her being. Like this is easy. "And maybe -" she quirks an eyebrow at you, withholding a smirk. "-you're right. Maybe, I was looking for someone cuter to fill the bill. And luck would have it, here he is."

So - apparently - her character doesn’t mind a little light infidelity.

Hyewon takes in the vague sense that the message wasn’t as clear as she might have liked, her forehead scrunching as she tries to convey - in a way that would communicate even to an airhead - some realization to play your part.

"Maybe it's the wrong question,” you start over, taking it from somewhere near the top, “what are you doing here, with me?"

That's when Hyewon graces you with one of the soft, slow kind of smiles: the kind that manages both an air of 'you dimwit' and 'good question'. Her fingertips barely graze yours but it's noticeably electric. Just enough to feel your pulse fluttering.

(You don't care that none of it’s real - Hyewon looks to you through thick eyelashes like a goddess of temptation and sin - and it makes something wicked coil up warm at the pit of your gut. A curious thrill and a recklessness that you have to admit feels a little nice - being the man trying to talk this woman into bed. The challenge and the buildup, the want to work for it. It's new. It's fresh. Lo-and-behold, it's kinda hot.)

When you catch her stare, she fidgets. So slightly, so briefly, your chest is on fire and you're barely into the pages of her plans, of this night ahead.

"Wish fulfillment, let's say," and that is no less true. "See it’s my husband."

"Mhmm."

"He respects me too much to do the things I'm going to ask you to do."

"Like?" you continue to prod.

Hyewon lets out the tiniest shiver of a sigh, like a trickle of cold water down the length of her spine. "Take a good guess."

You finish the rest of Hyewon's martini, slow. Savoring the warmth and bitterness sliding down the back of your throat. The night's young, sure - and if you're supposed to be spending it all wrapped around Hyewon's finger. This means you can take your time.

"Show me your room?" you propose, gesturing to the empty glass.

"I thought you'd never ask."

At your offering, she stands up and throws on her coat - long, double-breasted, chic - but only really just off her shoulders to have the hem hit her legs mid-thigh. One of her many personal quirks. Hyewon knows how to move like there aren't two eyes staring at her wherever she goes: not the awkward side-to-side of a girl who wasn't made to wear heels - a loping gait - nor the assured click, click of the taller kind that totter like it's all they've got going for them.

Something totally different: a little careless and a little haughty and an assurance of the highest confidence.

She winds an arm round yours like they do in movies, this parody of a leading lady - Hyewon not a seductress as much as she is someone who'll look the part just to convince you otherwise. There is a pretty big discrepancy, you find, between her bravado and her smile, her figure and her artistry - you couldn't act if you wanted to; meanwhile, she does whatever she damn well pleases. And somehow that doesn't even begin to cover the things that turn her on.

The two of you make for the stairs, winding up floor after floor until it's perfectly quiet, perfectly out of sight - hidden away from prying eyes and ears.

The silence of an empty hotel stairwell is thick - Hyewon's hand comes off the railing, as she takes to the wall and turns to face you. It's a gentle tug at the tie loose around your neck, barely any give before you're already there, holding her by the hips.

"Might've gotten us lost there," you whisper, as her finger plays at your chest and finds its way round the collar of your shirt. Your top button is already undone by the time you notice she's not fond of it. "The elevators would've gotten us where we're headed faster."

"Don't worry." She hums, leaning in close - like a magnet, like gravity. "You're getting the scenic route."

"Anything to stall the inevitable," you tease, but it isn't a thread she seems interested in developing.

"Something like that."

Hyewon shifts her weight back onto her right foot, her skirt riding up just barely. The dip between her inner thighs and the smooth curve of her leg is open and bare to your sight, her dark stockings like an unspoken challenge: the panties, lacy, loose, no crotch.

And it gets... indecent, the way your lips connect, how you realize half-way into that kiss, she's still smiling. It isn't any one way that does it; maybe it's the clever use of her tongue, or that particular position you've coaxed her up against the stairwell wall that makes it seem like Hyewon can't be any more in danger - it's too much to handle and your mouth goes slack on the reflex of an apology; her hand has a hold on you by the jaw and it won't budge.

"My husband," she murmurs into you, the trace of the words ghosting into the breath between the both of you. "Never lets me."

"What," you rasp, barely recognizing your own voice, your hand heavy on her side - the very real fear that you might tip over a banister because Hyewon's got her heel half-way into the back of your calf and any less bracing would bring you down. Your thoughts are a fog, with her cheek in one hand and your knee already up between her thighs.

"His wife," she almost swallows down, kisses turning chaste because maybe it's just easier to gently peck out her intentions, how she looks to you with dark eyes, heavy-lidded and wanting, a thumb trailing down the plane of your cheek. It'd feel like pity if you weren't thinking exactly the same.

You try to finish it for her:

"She likes it rough."

"No." Her nose traces yours before she connects you again - gentle and slow, and a shudder rolls all down the expanse of her shoulders; you think you have it about right. Until she makes the slightest adjustment and her grip in your hair turns agonizing, perfect and burning on the edge of too tight - too much. You are straining against the wall of a hotel hallway and she's saying, "not rough."

She kisses you. Hard. Until you gasp for the stolen air in her lungs.

"Filthy," she manages against the heat and sting at the side of her cheek.

(Damn.)

Your voice has gone and lodged itself firmly somewhere between her lungs - but there's something that says she knows. That you've got it in you, the brimming potential that might just say everything you ever wanted but couldn't figure the right way to put it.

It's the tone of her voice or the spark in her eyes, but one moment into the next - you're caught in this pull - like gravity's increasing tenfold at her will; her heartbeat's so strong you swear you feel it against your ribs as she's demanding:

"Messy. Dirty. A little uninhibited," and the obvious thrill of that must flare up like lightning under her skin - the way it makes her moan, soft and breathless: "fuck me like my husband doesn't."

She’s not even waiting for the comfort of the room yet, which in hindsight is probably checking more of Hyewon's many boxes - it's the sex in public thing, the fear of discovery thing, the desire to have you ravish her out where anyone can come upon you sort of thing - the thought of which has your jaw go a little slack too. Her leg up is coiled up around your hip, your fingers tangled in her hair and sliding up the length of her thigh, until you're fucking kneading up her ass and drawing out that desperate whine in her.

"Fuck," she exhales into your shoulder - a hand on the metal bannister to brace against those little circles you start to rub inside her, pushing - slowly - one, two, three knuckles deep, testing - before drawing back, and plunging forward again. This ache, slow and purposeful, pressing just enough into her until there's a wet sort of friction that has your hand slick all down your wrist.

It never takes long, with your fingers on her clit, fingers inside her, a palm covering the moans out of her mouth -

She cums just like that.

Whining and broken and bent under you, and with an elbow hard against her ribcage to make the breaths come shallow.

"Stay quiet for me, sweetheart," you find yourself murmuring, as your teeth graze the shell of her ear - the short burst of hair and silky strands across the back of her neck; you're undoing the neat ribbon tied round the length of her hair and letting her waves settle on her shoulder in time for you to swallow down the sound of her sighs, the tension in her lips, and the frantic jolt when your fingers push through the wet, heat of her pussy again, merciless and quick. You have to be careful; she nearly bites your fucking tongue out.

"Can't." Her jaw's tight on it, the slight staccato to her breathing, murmuring and slightly dazed: "if we get caught, someone will see. Someone will notice."

Her next exhale is more shaky. "Anyone could see us like this," with just her toes curling and her stomach tensing on every second beat. Your grip leaves a bruise. "Please-"

"We're not supposed to be doing this at all, are we? If you've got a husband waiting somewhere?"

You hear yourself, and it sounds sorta degenerate, though in all the right ways, you figure, like something straight out of one of Hyewon's romance novels, the dirty, smutty ones that she swears up and down she simply reads for the plot, but the dazed, hazy kind of mood they get her worked up into suggest otherwise.

You trace the rough pad of your thumb over her pussy, this delicate, ghost of a touch. One you'd have to strain to even tell if it was there or not until she whines - eyes screwed shut like she doesn't mean to, just does. The sound of it bouncing around the stairwell.

And then, all this wet: her skirt's ridden all the way up to her stomach, damp and near-transparent with slick, and you can just imagine the puffy pink between her legs - between her stockings in the afterglow of an orgasm, spent and sensitive and sore and wanting for more. Your eyes linger a little too long -

"I shouldn't let you," she manages, half a moan on it - one of her heels comes up the stair you're standing on and the way Hyewon clings onto you for balance says enough, but still, she demands, with all the strength her throat allows: "make it fast. You're lucky I let you see me like this at all -"

And she cuts off abruptly, looking at you.

(She'll play coy for a while longer. Which, Hyewon being Hyewon, will look like as much an effort as her sprawl out on the bed for you is.)

"The room," you say to her, harshly, "where is it."

"Four more floors."

Room 1014 as it turns out is like every other room you've ever been in, each one perhaps a little more identical than the last - except this one has Hyewon sitting in your lap while you get comfortable on the bed, and there's also the way she looks in the mirror above the headboard, the desperation in her stare, right back into the reflection.

"What all," she says, "do you want to do to me?"

This time - no explicit instructions - just an implication. You have to figure it out.

See, the image of her is like every fantasy rolled into one, wearing this thin black bra that has her breasts just about spilling over. They're amazing - the color and shape of her skin. Soft. Cradled between the cups like a godsend, and maybe that's why it drives her a little crazy how good you look biting down the ridge of her breast and flicking your eyes back up to catch her expression.

It has you feeling, if nothing else, a little ‘adventurous,’ too.

Her belly tenses on a heavy sigh and it's one hell of a thing to have Hyewon staring you down, like you're an animal or an idiot, with her eyes flashing and a thinly veiled anger in the purse of her lips. There's a thousand things she'd like to do to you - for you to do to her - but it's about the predicament: the silk necktie she'd pulled off you as you both stumbled through the door has ended up around her wrists, pinning her arms behind her back in a way that suggests a loss of control. Just the mere suggestion of a little playacting, but she's almost keening.

You feel the touch of her right calf keep rising - curving down your waist, hooked behind the small of your back - her thighs smooth, and a hot line along your sides.

"I should fuck that pretty mouth of yours," you say against the shell of her ear, because you know better than anyone, the very concept gets her wet. Uncomfortably so.

And she leans her head against your temple like she'd love it. You could be imagining the little whimper as she clenches up round nothing - until a growl escapes the back of her throat and she's saying -

"Is that how you're going to cum? With me on my knees and nothing else? Cover my pretty face? How you’ll completely ruin me?. You’re more creative than that."

“I don’t know that I am.”

Her hips move to find some friction where there isn't any until you give her some, pulling your cock out through your pants and feeling it brush, once, twice against the seam of her. Hot, and hard. Ready. And if she only tried a little, the angle was made perfectly to slot your head in, but neither of you move. She doesn't yield.

"Let me fuck myself on you," she suggests, strained, almost pleading. "Then perhaps I will."

You could take her like she is. Any which way. But this is about getting a particular reaction - one that'll leave her spent and trembling - and nothing like that will happen without a little bit of preparation and prelude. You want to watch her writhe for hours. Until she forgets she's playing a character at all, until she's panting your name and whimpering for release, her cheeks burning.

But at least it gets her writhing on you, the heat and press of her body as she leans in close, your eyes locking:

"Get your cock inside me-" the urgency in her voice. "-fuck me right now, this second-"

"Say it again."

"Fill me with your perfect cock." The words land right on your lips, frayed at the edges as the tether to her control slips another notch. "Push my thighs apart until you break me," Hyewon tells you - and then with her legs twisted up in the comforter, the creaking mattress and the sweat on the sheets: she rolls her hips like they're pleading for it.

"Pushy."

"Gentle's got no appeal for us."

"Apparently not," you reply - but then it's suddenly a lot easier, to slide one hand in Hyewon's hair, and grip at the knotted silk wrapped tight 'round her wrists to hold her. There's no hiding the subtle arching of her spine, how the pressure off her arms pulls her chest in or makes it all the more comfortable, she doesn't let on, she'll probably keep pretending she doesn't like this, that she hasn't always wanted -

You run your tongue over her collarbone and thrust up inside her, once - a warning that you're not giving in to her quite yet.

The smile that runs her lips is brittle. Like her patience isn't what it used to be - she makes a quiet little noise, pained. A flash of discomfort. But there's a moan and a curse out of her:

"Like that. Harder."

"What does harder mean?" you ask, with a deliberate repetition in motion, thrusting upward, forcing her hips to shift a few degrees further back - her knees clenching around the sheets as you're met with no give - Hyewon's resistance through a dark smile, and her grip slackened in her hands, despite you keeping a fist wound tight in the hair on the back of her head, tightening the other around her restraint.

Her throat flinches: this shudder.

She takes a couple heaving, open-mouthed breaths, before she has it in her to glare at you again.

"Harder-" The way her mouth shapes around the word gets the better of you - cute little cupid's bow in pink, full and swollen and pursed up as if in pain. Or desire. Or both, the way her head is tipped back, hair half undone - an idea is already coiling at the back of your mind. "-until I can't stand."

"Or talk?"

And when your hand loosens on her wrists, her posture slumps like it's relief, that you're finally going to move along in a direction she's getting some satisfaction from -

Hyewon shakes her head in a moment that's almost blissed.

"You," her voice breaks on the tail end, "fucking wish you could shut me up that easily -"

In a motion almost gentle, you twist the length of hair down around her, from her scalp to her jaw, and wrap it around a hand. "Let's see if you'll change your mind, shall we."

There's a sharp draw of air in past her lips, just one sound, not a word. No proper rebuttal. She bites down, teeth clicking.

So you pull.

And this isn't some revelation, that Hyewon's cunt is heaven. Slick and tight, the fit around your cock and the gasp escaping the base of her throat - that isn't new. You've been here countless times, fucked her past her breaking point, beyond what should reasonably satisfy her or satisfy you, but that still doesn't take away from this incredible, heady rush that pulses through your entire body. It never stops getting better, not inch-after-fucking-inch the way you're bottoming out inside Hyewon's body and feel how hard the rest of her muscles tense up in the contact, how her pussy tightens and quivers, and grips around the entirety of your cock, the briefest taste of pleasure and release before it's pulled back just out of her reach - overstimulated, until Hyewon cries out.

You expect, predict the fight, the whimpers that spill out of her mouth with every slap of your skin and the breathless way she begs, pleads, like she'd rather her pride take it from her than have your fingers tug her hair up, right out of her scalp, with your arm locked around her lower waist. With your cock pumping faster, faster and a pressure, hot and inescapable, right there - the friction building - the slippery-wet heat sliding along your shaft with every stroke until you bottom out and her next exhale is a sob.

A goddamn fucking sob and the warm gush of liquid down her thighs - all on you. You fingers are pressed into her ass, pulling onto you, steading her bounce - and Hyewon finds her breathing uneven, as you smear wet across the curve of her backside, rubbing circles into her lower back as you catch up on the rhythm she'd lost.

"This tight little cunt, huh," you tease, and she nods so desperately it seems like she might snap. Like she might cry again and this time for real, a drop of her eye color past the blush, streaking down her cheek. You have the wherewithal to remember your character, your blocking, your lines: "this is what your husband won't do? Won't fuck you on every piece of furniture until you're a ruined fucked-out mess? Doesn't have the decency to work over his little slutty-wife until she's passed out, dripping with cum?"

Hyewon's fingers curl up into two balls of white knuckles and she chokes on her reply. "He won't."

"Tell him. He has a hot and dirty little piece of ass right under his own roof-"

"You think," and the string of words trails off when you manage to grind in, at this angle that has her reeling, trembling at every shift and jerk in momentum. Your knuckles drag against her soft and giving curves, almost gripping at her in the attempt to hold her down on you. "-my husband isn't enough."

"Well you wanted me to fuck the domestic housewife out of you," you murmur, taking two greedy handfuls of the ass bouncing in your lap, rubbing your palms along her hips, up and around the shape of her abdomen and her ribcage like you'd map it, memorize it. She wants this, you know this: your palms come around and over and brush your thumbs against her rising gooseflesh - she's putty in your hands. "No strings attached, remember, a one night kind of thing-"

"My husband loves me."

"Then it seems-"

"He makes me cum with his hands alone."

Your jaw works tight - Hyewon's cunt feels as good wrapped around you as she says your cock feels making a mess of it.

"Tells me he'd die happy hearing me moan his name."

"Oh, because no matter where he goes," you say, fingers wrapping under and around the back of her neck, forcing her to look you in the eye, "no matter what, your sweet cunt's the only one his mouth is ever watering for, isn't that right-"

A blink, lashes thick and feathering down and over the pools of her pupils as you have a hold of her tight.

You're having a hard time with this, and you want to give it to her, the toe-curling-crescendo that would see her cumming at your will, or worse, losing the plot completely and your entire setup falling away from the charade of characters you'd both conjured. But she looks at you like she's never loved anyone like she loves you, the naked, barefaced devotion, the tenderness - a quick breath, a second - and the game is suddenly something far more personal, a truth. It isn't exactly fair: how your heart stutters. How much her heartbeat makes your pulse flutter, the electrifying rush you get when you fuck roughly up into her tight, wet cunt and make her bite down on nothing in the throes another orgasm.

You barely have a second to think of something coherent, let alone an out before she kisses you. If that isn’t totally disarming. So you move her into the next, flipping her onto her stomach, and she does nothing to fight back: Hyewon just lies there - the side of her face plastered to the comforter - exhausted, and gives a willing, malleable moan at the contact where your hand digs into the shape of her upper thighs, spreading them out as her elbows struggle behind her back.

"Here, baby," you say, finally unwinding the silk knot between her wrists, "I'll have you like the little desperate fucktoy you really are."

There's the bite to her bottom lip, the whole five seconds it takes for her hands to spread out and twist her fingers tight in the bedspread, before she whines - full-throated - and rocks back onto her toes to arch her back.

(See, the thing: Hyewon likes being fucked within an inch of her life. On all fours and pleading for more.)

With your free hand, you reach around her to run over her inner thighs.

Hyewon brings her grip to the bottom of the bed frame, for purchase, or leverage, you don't know, and in one simple motion, you slip your cock back deep inside her pussy.

You curse under your breath.

Hyewon fucking collapses.

It's a dangerous combination, having her begging and you nearly fully clothed while she's wearing barely more than this thin strip of black silk around her waist and a stocking on one leg, but you can't help it - she looks good this way.

"Fuck," she spits out, voice lost when your hips find hers in this wet, sloppy crash of skin that gets louder, faster and more punishing on each beat. "Like that, oh my God-"

Her whimpering only gets worse - when you start only pulling out halfway, until she's gasping like she can't breathe. You think there isn't a more wonderful, more obscene, more gorgeous thing than Hyewon spread out in front of you - the curve of her spine defining each and every one of the lines, dips, and rises of her body - and you would thank God or some higher deity right about now.

It’s fuck and please and every other little pliant utterance of “fuck my brains out, use me, make me beg, I'm so turned on right now I'll let you fuck me anyway you want - harder, faster, I can do whatever, just show me how, make me, push and fuck me hard until I'm raw and aching - god - like this, let me cum, please, let me - keep fucking going, oh my god, please, like this, fuck, just like this-"

You do thank God, actually - there's mirrors everywhere in this room, and you can catch the circular swing of her tits every time you force a curse and a sigh out of her: the bared teeth and the effort to push herself back on her arms, bracing for every thrust, fighting and fumbling to keep her balance and to make sure you have to pound her into the mattress until her cries reach a pitch.

Then, the thing you'd learned she'd never ask for but oh-so-dearly-wanted - you open your palm and bring it down hard on her backside. The impact of your flesh to hers, a crack, a moan and her whole body flexes - and it's then you do it again: matching the hit to the visible red outline of your handprint. The third time, she hisses, biting into the bed sheets so as not to cry out.

"Right? This is what you want? To be fucked and used?"

She doesn't reply with words, because she may in fact be biting her teeth into the cotton threadcount at the end of the bed, but she lifts her ass higher, angles her hips like she's waiting for more. Her brow is creased in a smile, even though a frustrated groan escapes her lips - so you give her that again, and again, until the back of her thighs are turning red and she's clawing one hand back along the length of your legs - pushing and pulling.

"You want me to fuck you senseless, sweetheart?"

And then, so needy and desperate she's just saying the first word that come to mind:

"More-"

"-when I've been railing into you so hard and your husband probably knows already, has to have seen, maybe he's listening at the door- oh," and your whole train of thought comes to a sudden halt upon seeing Hyewon's hand land on the perfect round of her ass, fingers pulling her soft, reddening skin taut, up and away from where your cock is disappearing between her cheeks - to allow more of your shaft into her hot, wet cunt - allow you to fuck her and fuck her up - allow the length of your shaft to slide deeper and hit all the spots that will send her reeling into this orgasm and the next.

Your gaze is stuck however, not to her curves rippling in excess, the damage of your thrusts pounding her body to ruin, or the look of flawless pleasure twisting up the pretty features of Hyewon's reflection, but instead it's the fucking flash and catch of the diamond that adorns her fourth finger. Even when you have her completely helpless, bent on your mercy, she's still wearing that promise, that intention to have and to hold, and you think, for at least a second, this whole roleplay thing isn't the worst idea: being a surrogate to fulfill someone's wildest fantasies. It might even be enough to make you hard all over again - the thrill and the debasement of your girl, lines quickly blurring between the Hyewon you'll take home and put back together and the Hyewon you're fucking pouding into a mattress - the here and now.

"Fuck, Hyewon," you find yourself swearing - steadying the hips rolling back in your palms, bending down until the flat of your chest meets her back, until your nose is in her hair, the long strands sticking to her lips and the back of her ears. Until you feel her shaking as you suckle against her skin, at her neck, hot kisses between the shoulder blades, finding a grip in her hands. Her grip in yours - as she's muffling these exquisite, needy sounds; she is perfect. Hyewon is perfect.

The first time you cum, it's this hot splatter of white: smeared across her ass and the crease of her lower back. It feels almost dirty to think that's just how you feel about it; your heart is stuttering in its erratic pace, but your eyes are drawn and enraptured, the sight of it all.

Then second, maybe your favorite: when she slips her hand to your aching shaft and simply takes you back inside her. This soft, wet, inviting heat that pulls you back to her.

"God- please," her head tips back, you feel the arch of her back through her ribs and stomach, the way her breath catches as you slide your cock through her creamed-out-cunt so much harder and smoother. "It feels so fucking good, baby," and there are tears now, welling in the corner of her eyes, "don't stop, God don't ever stop-"

She can barely finish her sentence before she's cut off, a moan ripped from the bottom of her lungs and a gasp straight from the pain-pleasure that has your balls slapping against her pussy every other stroke. And suddenly she's sitting, or rather, squirming into your arms, her face buried in your shoulders as she starts riding you, and not-quite crying and saying again - again, the whole filthy lot of things: about her wanting you to fill her, to plug her up with your cock. Every thrust she whines in your ears, clutching onto the fabric of your shirt and making a mess of herself in you.

It's this wild and reckless thing that makes its way around the room, on every surface and bit of furniture. You fuck her over the counter, let her ride you on the sofa, the chair, the two of you managing to find some sort of assistance in the wall even, the door frame, her legs up your sides and the slippery-sticky-heat of your mouths connecting and everything that isn't exactly meant to support that kind of strain buckling and nearly giving way - once when the wooden joints in the door-frame shift, once when she begs for release in that frantic voice that doesn't sound a thing like her. And the way she comes apart under you after, on top of you - is even sweeter; you imagine there's this endless possibility for love, for pleasure, a whole world in bundled in the notion that you could do it for her again, that it was always a question of Hyewon letting you have her that way, and the rest was mere foreplay - a stretch.

Only, on the bed again, Hyewon shivers beneath you, this full-body response, and you've got her stretched as she opens up - that the slightest of movements has her already whimpering out "fuck," and "please," and "right there," and "fuck you're going to make me come like this. You're so good, just fucking," and "more, harder, please, you feel so fucking good-"

The desperation for release is so palpable in her that it's curling into your stomach as your press Hyewon's knees into the points and edges of her shoulders and fold in her half - this perfect angle of leverage. Fucking her like she's yours and no one else's - the absolute delight of her cunt, wet, hot, and desperate to milk you empty - her body quaking at the force of each thrust, and the hungry grind of your hips into hers. Her fingers digging and knotting in the sheets around you until her knuckles pale, and your own grasp on her skin threatens to bruise.

"Inside me," she gasps out, because she can feel that edge just as well as you, "I want you to fill me, just cum inside, God, you always feel so amazing, fuck, like that, cum inside me, cum in me-"

"How could I say no, especially when you ask so sweetly," you tell her, kissing into her smile, "can you take another? Baby, look at me, look into my eyes, yeah? Look right back at me."

Her eyes blink and roll back a bit, almost losing focus and her eyelashes flutter - the creases in her brow, the elegant lines of her face locking up in the overwhelming tension, then, a peak.

And a demand, meekly asking you to fill her up. Until there's nothing left. "Cum," Hyewon moans, "for the love of fuck-"

You push her past her climax until she's practically weeping, sobbing through a litany of nonsense and slurred, unfinished sentences and almost howls, struggling beneath your weight and coaxing her fingers over the surge at the base of your spine. Before a hot liquid mess bursts out of you, into the deepest reach of Hyewon's throbbing cunt - cumming inside her, while you hold her down, not allowing her to move as your hips lock and you're both left groaning in utter agony.

(This was the thing you'd told her once - cumming inside her was almost always worth the effort it took to clean it all back out. You like the possessive aspect of it, maybe the slight humiliation, and more than anything, she'll just melt: once she's gone past the immediate discomfort. If anyone could really learn to get off on feeling a little filthy, it's the two of you. And she knows that too, Hyewon's eager little pout intimates, as she blinks down to watch where the two of you connect.)

You don't say much for the next while. If there's a line where this particular escapade blends back into your normal life, where the Hyewon curled up in the sheets is your own girl and not some half-conceived entity that didn't fit the reality of the rest of the evening, or how you see Hyewon everyday, even then, it’s not clear.

She's utterly boneless - this fragile, dazed thing that runs her palms all the way around her breasts and pulls up her stockings a little further up the line of her hips, as if you weren't going to peel them back and slip them all the way off when you had the wherewithal to handle it. But the strength in her isn't entirely lost either, she looks ready to burst: this air of pride and smugness - victory, right in her grin, which isn't totally surprising. Hyewon usually gets an odd satisfaction out of your participation in whatever hedonistic or obscene thing it is she wants to try.

This was her fantasy - maybe not a deeply rooted or unattainable one, but she'd worked out some kinks of hers and has walked away a far better woman for it, knowing what a sight she is to you. Like this.

"That was... fun," Hyewon eventually says, collecting articles of clothing strewn about the room.

Her shoes are one of two sets in the shoe-rack, but she'll have to look around and under the bed to find her dress. It would probably be some strange level of easy to play dumb and wait until she comes to the conclusion on her own that she should bend down and check down there, but she looks a little too worn out to really be interested in her clothes, more like, ready for the next part.

"We should do it again," her gaze lands, intent, and serious, back to you.

"Which part?" you have to ask, because you're probably still, a little slow on the uptake.

A small laugh, the sly smirk to herself; she knows she has you wrapped so perfectly around her finger, ready to bend to whatever game she can come up with: "whichever part you like."

#hyewon smut #izone smut #izone hyewon smut #kpop smut #male reader #capslocked kinkvember

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lani-heart · 1 month ago

Text

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> smut, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> yunho ( centric ) x reader warning(s) -> smut, mdni. 18+ words -> 2.4k

abstract -> collateral damage is inevitable for lifetime karma...

y/n’s perspective

Mingi fit in perfectly… but he missed his lifelong friend.

He admits he does and often has his mind wander with a sad look of reminiscence when reminded of Yunho… but he acknowledged that he wouldn’t change anything as long as he was here again.

“You’re doing quite well with the book right?” Chenle asked, taking me away from my thoughts while I nodded.

“I'm halfway done, but I’m thinking of adding one more character to the main six,” I said. They nodded as Jising read my outline and Chenle skimmed through it.

“I still can’t believe how many hybrids you have now,” Chenle said and I smiled softly.

“But at the same time it makes sense,” Jisung said and we laughed. “To think you have Eunchae to thank for that,” Chenle said and he was right.

She pushed me into going to an adoption center where I met San and that was history.

“I say we’re gonna have to start putting a cap on how many hybrids you have” Chenle released and I laughed. “Hmm… eight?” Jisung suggested and I rolled my eyes.

“y/n, he’s all good to go!” I heard as I saw Kun and Mingi.

“The sweet life changed him a lot you know,” Chenle said and I was confused and so was Mingi. “He looks way happier and healthier than when he came. Besides, he looks good in designer” Chenle and Jisung teased.

“Her hybrids have a better life than me and Haechan,” Jisung said and I sighed. I turned to Mingi who seemed to be happy by their comments. His tail wagging behind him as he grinned at me.

“Ready to go?” I asked and he nodded as we left the pair outside of the kennel. “You seem happy after your session,” I said and he nodded. “The doctor said I've improved so much I might be finishing my sessions soon!” he grinned and did the same.

“We should celebrate!” I said and he looped his arm with mine as we walked to the cafe. I always took him too. As we made it there we waited for a bit to get seated like normal but noticed Mingi tensed up. “Mingi!” I heard as I saw two little kids run up to us. He seemed scared…

“What did I tell you two about running off!” I heard and I sighed… she-devil. “Oh, you… I see you actually adopted the mutt” she said and I rolled my eyes. I noticed behind her carrying leftovers, coats, and her purse was Yunho.

He seemed wide-eyed seeing Mingi again… I even saw a soft smile appear on his face.

“You’re quite the hybrid collector, aren't you… runts darling aren’t valuable to anyone though” she said and I scoffed. “Am I supposed to take advice from you?” I asked and she glared.

“You’re such an immature brat” she muttered and I smirked. “I guess… hey how’s bankr–” “Shut up!” she yelled and left with Yunho sighing and bowing to me before leaving.

“Are you okay?” I asked and Mingi nodded sadly… “What’s wrong?” I asked and he sighed. “It's strange… seeing Yunho on the opposite side of things. I bet she treats him with the bare minimum unlike how she treated me but… I also never thought I was worthy of being treated better” he confessed and I smiled and held his hand.

“You're with me now,” I said and he smiled and nodded. “Yeah… thank you,” he said and I chuckled. “You never have to thank me for that. And Mingi? This is the bare minimum… not what she does” I said and he nodded.

“It’s fine… I was thinking we could order something different today?”

mingi’s perspective

Seeing Yunho confused me… it was a mix of emotions.

I finally accepted that y/n wanted me. Me of all hybrids. Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Yeosang, Wooyoung, and even San wanted me there. Not Yunho… not him. Never have they ever asked about him either.

Never have I had something that was solely mine away from Yunho and I was happy.

I missed him… I did. But when I think about how much I missed him, I realize I would have to share this with him. Share them with him. Share her with him.

It made me feel sick otherwise.

Sure she has five other hybrids. I shared her with them… more like they shared her with me. But… the thought of Yunho stepping in would destroy me… even makes me feel bitter feelings towards him.

“You’ve been stuck staring at the ceiling since you came back… do I need to tell y/n you’re acting up again?” Hongjoong asked and I shook my head. “I’m fine…” I said and he huffed as if he didn’t believe me.

“I am… honest. We saw Yunho at the cafe we go to after my sessions, I just have mixed feelings” I said and he looked at me as if he was analyzing me. “You’ve talked less about Mingi recently… you’ve been here for two months and I haven’t heard you talk about Yunho since… probably a few weeks ago,” he said and I nodded.

“He’s my best friend… there will never be anything to doubt that but, im content with the life I have now without him”

y/n’s perspective

For some reason… She requested that our hybrids not be present at all, which worried me. I felt like she was planning something and I didn’t know what.

It was also strange cause Hongjoong was the one who always came with me and now to be alone was worrisome. “You’re here early” I heard as I saw Jaehyun. “Want this over with,” I said and he chuckled.

“I get what you mean, sorry by the way about no hybrids today,” he said and I shook my head. It’s not his fault…

I was just anxious about what she had planned.

She was an unprofessional woman!

I was currently sitting on a bench trying to cool down and not cry over her comments. She had her kids run around and even spilled water on me several times… not even just once and the girl kept on grabbing my bag plus even put spilled juice on it so now it was sticky.

The boy also tried to put gum in my hair… I wasn’t having a good day...

“I’m sorry!” I heard as I saw… Yunho? “I remember you! You’re the hybrid who stole from people! You stole five hundred dollars from me!” a man yelled at the hybrid. Why was he… out and without a collar?

Yunho couldn’t do anything but let the man scold him. I sighed and took out five bills and tapped the man’s shoulder. “Huh? Who are you?” he asked and I saw Yunho look at me shocked… “Just take it and stop yelling” I said and he seemed embarrassed but took the money and ran away.

“You didn’t have to do that… I deserved it” he said and I sighed. “Come on Yunho,” I said and he looked confused… but besides that still followed me. We walked in silence until we made it to the hybrid center.

“y/n! What brings… why are you wet?” Haechan asked and I sighed.

“Long story… is Kun or Doyoung busy?” I asked and he shook his head before leading me to Kun’s office while Yunho followed me closely.

“What are you doing here? And why are you a mess?” he asked and Yunho came inside with me. “Yunho?” he said, confused. “He was on the street alone, with no collar,” I said and he nodded while telling me he’ll be a minute. “Why are you helping me?” he asked and I gave him a soft smile.

“Cause you don’t seem like a bad hybrid… and you’re also important to Mingi,” I said and he nodded. “Is he here then? Last time I saw him, he said you were only fostering him for a week” he said and he looked desperate to see his friend.

“I actually ended up adopting him,” I said and he grinned. He seemed happy at the sudden news.

“Is he okay then? Happier?” he said and I saw how his tail wagged at the thought of his friend being happy. I smiled and nodded. “He fits in well with everyone,” I said and I saw how his eyes lit up.

“I’m glad…” he smiled to himself.

“I’m sorry by the way what she did… she was getting the twins ready to misbehave today and I'm assuming they did,” he said and I sighed. “You can say that,” I said and he looked apologetic. “But it shouldn’t be you apologizing, you did nothing wrong,g” I said and he shook his head.

“I did… I robbed you and I caused you trouble, so much trouble, and I–" "Yunho, I forgive you. Mingi explained it… you did it cause you needed to. I understand” I say and he sighs.

“Yunho?!” I heard as I saw the she-devil herself. “How dare you! I’ll sue for stealing my hybrid!” she yelled and I sighed. Was this her plan? “Yunho, can you explain why you were alone in the street?” Kun asked and he looked at me nervously. Was he also in on this?

“She left me alone in the middle of Seoul… she told me to find y/n and make sure I went with her but I didn’t want to, I promise! She was gonna lie and try to make this a civil affair, I'm sorry!” he apologized and she scoffed. “He’s lying… he must’ve learned that from the filthy wolf hybrid,” she said and I scoffed.

“I’m sorry, miss but this is going to become a hybrid mistreatment case”

I finally made it home where I was greeted by Wooyoung’s excited yell welcoming me back. He was rambling as he led me to the kitchen saying they already ate since it was late but how he was gonna prepare a plate for me.

“Why are you… sticky?” I heard as I saw Yeosang as he touched the stain on my coat. “Little kids will be kids especially if their parents are as immature as them,” I said and he sighed, seeming to know what I meant.

“Where’s Mingi?” I asked and he hummed. “Why… did something happen?” he asked, looking right through me and I sighed. “I found Yunho in the middle of the street being berated as the thief and… apparently she planned to sue me for stealing her hybrid but he confessed to her tricks,” I said and he looked surprised.

“She’d go that far? What happened to the giant dog anyway?” he asked and I sighed… “Hybrid Mistreatment Case is now open… I doubt he’ll be under her care anymore but he’ll officially be up for adoption” I said and he nodded.

“And you want to talk about it with Mingi,” he said and I nodded. “I just… I don't know. He seems to have mixed feelings about him especially when seeing him around with me” I muttered and he nodded.

“He did say he always had to share things with Yunho… never felt superior to him so it makes sense” he muttered. “Still… I know he misses him. I want him to at least talk to his old friend” I said and he stared.

“They're bonded aren’t they?” he asked and I nodded.

“Wooyoung bonded himself to me while San and him are also bonded. The tigers to each other as well… separating a bonded pair can be damaging to the hybrid’s mental health” he explained. “If… you were to one day decide you didn’t want us or… me I’d feel lost too. Like nothing will be the same again” he confessed.

“Are you bonded to me?” I asked and he smiled. “You’re my mate, angel. Of course, I'm bound to you… even though I could function… other hybrids of yours wouldn’t. Senghwa and I are probably the only ones…” he said and I knew what he meant.

Like how Wooyoung’s depressive episodes can get and how San lost some of his memories due to the trauma… Hongjoong though as of recently put his life purpose to protect me.

“Don’t dwell on it too much” he said and I nodded.

“Oh! I wanted to make sure that you didn’t want to go anywhere? I can still make reservations for you–" "And while I appreciate the offer, no thanks… I would rather not leave if I can avoid it and besides with Wooyoung cooking meat for Mingi these last two months I'd rather just order a bunch of fried chicken and eat it here with some cake” he said and I smiled.

“Ok… but if you change your mind–” he smiled softly and shook his head while I talked “–the offer stands I'll make it work I promise!” I said and he chuckled. “Thank you, angel”

I can’t believe it sometimes…

It's been a fast year with San and Wooyoung but Yeosang as well… next month will mark a year.

yunho’s perspective

Everything I did… was to make Mingi happy. It made his life a little easier but I think in the end I always did the opposite. I’m the reason he was so down… so bad with his own self-esteem. The reason he thinks he doesn’t deserve the world.

And yet… I still hope that she changes that. Even if he hates me now.

Every time I’ve seen her with him… he’d look at me with a look of uncertainty… envy, or simply just annoyance…

I deserved what fate brought upon me. In a cage… with nothing else in here but my thoughts. They said I'd surely get adopted again… but it would never be the same. Mingi wouldn’t be with me.

“Yunho, in an hour you’ll be in touch with a social worker in charge of hybrid cases and a lawyer so we need to get you ready” I heard and I nodded. They were now putting on a collar and any procedures they needed for me to talk about her verbal abuse and neglect…

Everything… since I was a kid. And everything that I witnessed Mingi goes through… every punishment he had and the punishment I took in his place to lessen his pain.

Every physical altercation… any humiliating thing she made us perform.

Everything I… had to go through in this miserable lifetime… was just me paying for the collateral.

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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fanfics-for-you · 5 months ago

Text

what's in a name? || Patrick Verona (TTIHAY) x gn!reader (Modern!College!AU)

AVAILABLE ON AO3 (SOON)

Inspiration: ✨️Patrick Verona✨️

Summary: Patrick Verona is apparently the most intimidating guy on campus. You just want to get by, pass your classes, and get to your actual dreams. When you casually approach him one day and decidedly are not scared of him, Patrick has some questions.

TWs: light language, use of Y/N (only like twice), second person POV (you, yours).

[[A/N: This is basically under the concept that you approach Patrick first, and aren't really as afraid of him as anybody else. He's intrigued. Also this is a college AU, because I am in college and I think it's weird to write about high school lmao. ALSO,,, I know this is incredibly niche and a dead tag, but... I watched the movie recently and was violently possessed to write this. The parasites in me what to continue this universe, but idk. Anyway. Enjoy :)]]

You were exhausted. Totally and completely exhausted.

You'd stayed up all night for your chem quiz, and still, didn't think you did great on it. Which made your day ever so worse. So, when you went to the library, and someone was sitting in the spot you always sat in, you halfway wanted to cry and halfway wanted to rip your hair out. Normally, such a thing wouldn't be a big deal, but today it was. So, with a certainty that rivaled a lawyer in court, you stomped over to the chair.

For a moment, the guy didn't even look at you. He kept staring at his friend, a surprisingly 'metal' dressing guy who was talking avidly about something.

You cleared your throat.

That's when they both looked at you.

You were entirely focused on the one in your seat. A taller guy with built shoulders, curly hair and a sharp jaw. In normal circumstances, you'd probably think he was hot. Today was not normal circumstances.

The man raised an eyebrow.

Okay, so maybe it was a little normal circumstances, but that wasn't relevant.

"What are you doing?"

The man answered, simply -maybe a little confused, "Sitting?"

"That's my spot," you clarified, pointedly.

"Oh, I'm sorry-" the man pretended to start getting up before pausing -speaking sarcastically, "-Oh wait, I've just remembered, this is public property."

Mindlessly noting that he had an accent that you couldn't quite place, you rolled your eyes, "I sit there everyday. Just give me the spot."

"You weren't sitting here all day," he pointed out, "-or else I wouldn't be here."

You pressed your lips together into a thin line, "I was busy failing a chem test, now get up."

His eyes skimmed over your face, thoughtfully, "Do you know who I am?"

"Why-" you sighed out, frustrated, "-would I know who you are?"

Even despite the comment, he did seem familiar somehow but you weren't going to tell him that.

He furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, and didn't say anything. You felt like you were going to explode in fiery flames.

You groaned, "Oh my god. There are thousands of seats on campus, just go sit somewhere else."

"Exactly," the man countered, "-why don't you sit somewhere else?"

"Because-" you huffed out a breath, "-that's my spot."

"And why is this spot so important to you?" He shuffled slightly, moving his hands along the cracks of the seat, "-You got something good stashed in 'ere?"

"Dear god," you huffed out a breath in defeat, "-Whatever. Enjoy your seat, asshole."

And with that, you spun on your heel and pulled yourself deeper into the library. Taking a breath in, you pulled yourself into a seat not too far from the original, but you were around the corner so you wouldn't have to look at his stupid face. You soured just at the thought.

You pulled open your chem book, and read through it -trying to figure out which ones you definitely missed, that way you could get the ballpark for what your grade might be. You really needed to know, to make sure your GPA stayed in the range for your dream university.

But, in the middle of it, you heard someone plop into the chair in front of you (it was a group of chairs, like for a group of people if necessary).

Before looking up, you spoke -sharply, "Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

Your eyes shot up at that familiar accent, and you frowned.

"You got the seat," you pointed out, bitterly, "-What the hell do you want now?"

"Your name," he answered simply.

You blinked, (what?) before settling back into your seat and flipping to the next page, "Yeah, no."

The man seemed to move forward, and unwillingly your eyes flickered to him (his curls moving with the motion), "Why not?"

"I don't give my name out to strangers," you retorted -flicking your eyes down to your book, "-especially not assholes."

"Don't know if I can change who I am," he smirked, "-but, I can work on the stranger part."

You frowned, eyeing him particularly, "Seriously, what do you want?"

"I already told you," he replied, fidgeting with something in his hands (you weren't paying attention), "-I'm Patrick, by the way."

"Well," you exhaled, sharply, and ignored his name, "-you're not getting it."

"Well," he repeated with the same sort of grin, "-I'll just have to work on that too, then."

You looked up at him again and squinted at him -trying to read him somehow. All he did was grin at you, a charming kind, of course, that made crinkles on his cheeks. You ignored the flutter in your chest that it gave you and darted your eyes back down to your book.

The next day, you were in better spirits. After studying for an entirely different class, you were pretty sure you aced that test. So, you weren't as pissed, thankfully. Until you went into the library to sit between classes like you always did.

You paused in your step and frowned.

The guy (Patrick, your mind treacherously noted) was sitting by your chair, mindlessly tapping his fingers along the arm of the chair. He wasn't in your chair, thankfully, but still, he was in the one beside it. Pointedly close.

You huffed out a breath, and moved toward the chairs, "What are you doing?"

"Sitting," he repeated.

You raised an eyebrow.

He seemed to take that as a repeat of the question -before saying, confidently (too confidently), "I'm studying for a test."

"You don't seem like the studying type," you retorted, throwing yourself into the chair and pulling out your laptop -realizing it was no use to try and get him to leave.

Patrick pointed out, "You don't even know me."

"And I don't intend to," you replied with ease, flicking your eyes to meet his, "-your point?"

He grinned the same bright one from before, amused maybe. Your heart skipped a beat, so you dropped your eyes back down to your laptop. He, on the other hand, didn't seem to look away.

"What's your major?" He asked, thoughtfully.

"I won't tell you my name," you leveled, scrolling through your online schedule for homework, "-but you think I'll tell you my major?"

"Well," he reasoned, "-a name is much more identifiable, but your major," he shrugged, "-not so much."

You eyed him again for a second, before saying, "What if you just want to look up my classes and hunt me down?"

Patrick smiled again, before asking, "What is your next class?"

"Why?" You ask, pointedly, "-So you can force me into talking to you again?"

"Preferably," he replied, grinning cheekily.

You raised an eyebrow, and bit your lip to pull down a smile that begged to quirk up, "I'm not telling you that either."

"What if I just follow you when you leave?" He questioned, curiously, "-Figure it out myself?"

"And what if I-" you smiled at him -patronizingly, "-call the campus police?"

He raised both eyebrows as if to say 'touché' without saying it out loud. You bit down another smile and moved back to your computer -pulling out your planner and jotting down dates.

"Your pissiness," he suddenly spoke, "-Are you often filled with boiling hatred?"

"No," you sigh out, before shooting him another patronizing smile, "-that's special just for you."

He laughed then, and something warm zinged down to your toes (you ignored it), "Do you seriously not know me?"

"Do you know how many Patricks exist in the world?" you point out, "-No, I don't know you."

"So you do remember my name," he smirked, patting along his lap with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes but didn't say a word.

It ended up like that for the rest of the time, Patrick shooting questions now and then, and you shutting them down. His stupid smirk and low, rumbly, accented voice, you hated that he actually seemed kinda nice -all things considered.

But, as you stood up to leave, you decided on something.

"Literature," you said simply, gathering up everything into your bag.

He paused, shooting up his eyebrows, "What?"

"My next class," you answered, nonchalantly pulling your bag onto your shoulder, "-Intro to Literature."

Patrick grinned, bright and shiny, "Gen Ed?"

"Yeah," you answered, moving to put the last few things in your bag.

"Can I walk you?"

Your eyes snapped to him then, curiously -detailing the rather honest look, before answering solidly, "No."

He burst into laughter then, throwing his head back against the chair -you mindlessly watched his curls fall back with the motion and then snapped your eyes away.

"Same time tomorrow then?" He asked, still laughing a little bit (something in you twinkled).

"Nope," you exhale a breath, ignoring the disappointment that swirled into your chest, "-I'm not on campus tomorrow."

He seemed to falter for a second, "Do you live on campus?"

You raised a solid eyebrow, you really think I'd tell you that?

"Right, yeah, okay," Patrick conceded, holding up his hands in faux surrender, "-What days are you on campus?"

You paused, pressing your lips together, but something in you did it, "Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays."

He grinned a little brighter, "Are you here around the same time on Mondays?"

Something in your chest flipped, but even still, you answered, "That's what you have to figure out. Not me."

And then, you spun on your heel and walked out of the library. His laughter trailed out behind you, and if you had a small little smile on your face at the noise, that was only for you to know.

Monday came, and you woke up early and made your way to campus -the first class of the day was at the crack of dawn. You physically despised it, but so is the schedule of a college student. Plus, you still worked, so the earlier the better for your schedule -didn't mean it didn't suck though.

Sipping on your drink, you wandered back toward the cafeteria -crossing the main connecting area, where everything led to. There was a baseball game going on, not an official one by the looks of it, in the grass. Your eyes hinged on the game for a few seconds, the echoes of laughter shooting toward your ears. It looked fun, but you weren't too invested in being outside for that long. Before you could look away though, your eyes caught on a familiar frame.

Patrick.

His hair was tied back, and he was wearing a pretty bland tank top (just grey), with some typical jeans. With his hair pulled back, you could see his jaw more distinctively -the sharp lines clear from even this far away. (Not that you were looking.) The sun bore down on them but all of the players seemed to be happily distracted. And you kinda were too.

You pursed your lips, for a moment, and looked forward again after a breath, heading toward the cafeteria again confidently.

Before you could get very far, though, you heard a familiar accent.

"Hey!" He yelled, a little distant -footsteps following his voice, "-Hey!"

At first, you weren't sure if he was talking to you, so you kept moving.

"Shit, I don't know what to call you," he called out, breathless and much, much closer.

You spun on your heels with furrowed brows, and met his eyes over a few people's heads. The grin that swallowed his face whole should've been criminal, bright and twinkly and... charming.

Before you could say anything, he was by your side with heavy breaths -assumedly from playing baseball and getting over to you. Leaning over slightly, he leveled out heavy breaths. You were almost concerned enough to offer him water, but he seemed to settle himself before you could.

"Hi," he echoed, "-'Ve been looking for you all morning, what time did you get here?"

You blinked, all morning?

"I get here early, 7, and immediately go to class," you answered, a little blankly (looking for you, looking for you, looking for you).

"Oh," he paused, "-I got here at 8. There's classes at 7?"

"Obviously," you respond, because you did in fact just say it.

"Did you-" Patrick started, before pursing his lips together, "-Are you going to the library now?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "No, I'm going to the cafeteria to eat between classes. Why?"

"I'm actually quite hungry myself," he avoided the question, "-Do you mind if I tag along?"

"What about your game?" You furrowed your eyebrows even further -eyeing him curiously.

"'S just to fill time," he explained, "-It's nothing serious. They're sure to find someone to fill in for me."

You flicker your eyes along his face, trying to read him. What's your prerogative?

After a moment, you come up with nothing and instead, just turn on your heel -leading the way to the cafeteria.

"I'm taking that as a yes, then?" Patrick called out from behind you, catching up and matching your stride with ease (despite you making no move to slow down).

You decidedly don't answer him, and say something focused elsewhere -eyeing him as you walk forward, "Do you always stalk people this much?"

Patrick laughed, catching your eye with his warm brown ones (they were almost sparkly under the sun of the day), "Only the ones that blindly hate me."

You pressed your lips together in a flat line (trying not to give anything away), "I didn't say that I hated you."

His face lit up at the words (and you couldn't decide if you regretted it or not), "Well, you could've convinced me."

You roll your eyes, and keep walking forward, "Not telling you my personal information isn't... hating you."

"I'm not sure not introducing yourself is exactly anything but hatred," he argued back, fluidly.

"I just told you that I don't hate you," you point out, "-so it isn't."

"Does that mean you'll eventually tell me your name?" Patrick asked, curiously.

You turned to him, flicked your eyes over him, and then looked forward again, "Maybe on good behavior."

He burst into laughter, brown eyes set on your face, "You're quite an enigma, you know that?"

"And you're not half the mystery you portray," you fire back, naturally, with the flow of the conversation.

He grinned at that, eyes shining with something you couldn't quite label, "You know, I don't think I've met a person like you. You're fearless in like a-" he motioned with his hands, "-casual way."

"I'm not fearless," you argue, approaching the door to the cafeteria, "-I'm just confident."

"Do they not go hand-in-hand?" Patrick offers, getting to the door before you and promptly holding it open for you -unflinchingly.

Something warm stirs in your stomach at the gesture (and his woodsy scent that brushes your nose as you walk past him), but you ignore it, "You can be certain and still be afraid."

"But knowing you're right doesn't necessarily mean-" Patrick followed you in, matching your stride again, as if it's natural, "-that you're confident."

You furrow your eyebrows, genuinely intrigued, "What do you mean?"

He paused, maybe a little shocked by your attentiveness, "Plenty of people know they're right and still concede to someone else because they don't want to fight it. You-" he pointed at you, "-will fight it."

"Well," you purse your lips, avoiding his eye contact, "-maybe I'm only like this with you."

"You," Patrick paused, "-You're not this fiery ball of rage with anyone else?"

You eye him for a second, before saying flatly, "Maybe."

"All of this seething hatred and impressive indifference just for me?" He grins, the big teeth-showing kind, "-I'm touched really. Because I am special to you in some weird kinda twisted way-"

Before you can stop yourself, you let out a laugh at his words -just a quick one. Barely there.

But you could still see the delight smooth along his face, and just knew he caught it.

"How much of that have you been holding back?" He tilted his head curiously, before continuing to push it, smirking, "-Oh I bet you think I'm hilarious."

Your heart skipped a beat at the smirk, and you simply pressed your lips together and turned on your heel to the food counter. There wasn't even a second before you heard footsteps following you.

"You're not denying it, you know," he called after you, close on your tail.

You peer over the selection of food, eyeing the different items thoughtfully, "But I didn't confirm it either."

"Still not denying it," Patrick hummed, sing-songy.

"You know," you turn to him (mindlessly noting that he is very close), sharply, "-someone can have one good joke and still be unfunny."

He leaned forward slightly, eyes set on yours -challenging, "Then tell me why it came out like you were holding it back?"

You blinked at him, once and then twice, the sudden closeness sent a shock through your brain and the challenging tone of his voice nearly gave you full-body shivers. You can't find words to say, and you can nearly see it processing on Patrick's face (the way that he had made your mind melt for a moment), so you turn to the counter and point at something random for them to pick out for you.

The woman eyes the two of you suspiciously, but still diligently pulls out a to-go plate and piles the... mashed potatoes onto it.

"Oh my god," he finally says after a moment (you ignore it).

You go through a few other items, and the woman gathers them onto the plate. You pay, grab your plate-

"You like me," Patrick retorts, and you're not even looking at him but you can tell he's got a shit-eating grin.

Your brain malfunctions for a moment, but you step toward the tables and fire back (on autopilot), "I won't even tell you my name."

He's hot on your trail, following you diligently, "You're avoiding the question."

You spin to him, and reply -sharply, "You didn't ask a question."

His eyes flicker along your face, taking you in (you want to squirm but you steel yourself in place -your eyes now challenging), and then he grins so bright that you'd need sunglasses in any other scenario.

"Oh, you're really into me," he continues, low, gravelly, accented voice rumbling through your ears.

You screw up your face into something defiant, roll your eyes, and turn back to slide into a table. Patrick follows you like a lost puppy. Well, an incredibly arrogant lost puppy.

"You're still not denying it," he slides into the chair beside you and you hate the way your brain swims at the woodsy smell that brushes your nose.

"'Thought you were hungry," you say, simply (avoiding the question and decidedly not denying).

"It was very obviously a ploy," Patrick chimed back, with natural ease -tilting his head slightly and looking at you with twinkling eyes, "-They had pizza out there for all the players. I've already eaten."

Your fork froze for a millisecond (even still, you were sure he caught it), and after a moment, you pulled it to your lips. Maybe conquering both of your lack of response and the way your mind lit up at the idea of 'he just wanted to see me'.

His smile and eyes seemed to soften slightly, as he leaned his head down to catch your eye and guide it back up to your natural gaze (your heart skipped a beat). His brown eyes were soft and if you were honest, maybe a little affectionate.

"What's your name?" He finally said after a soft few moments.

And just like that, for you, the moment snapped, and you rolled your eyes -turning back to your food.

"Oh, come on," Patrick tried to catch your gaze again, "-Look, I'll tell you. Patrick Verona. That's my name-"

You bit down a smile, as he motioned to you with his hands.

"-Now, your turn, tell me yours."

You raised an eyebrow.

Patrick let out a half-laugh, before leaning forward slightly on the table -not quite a breath away, but certainly closer.

"You're so stubborn," he laughed, "-I'll beg. You want me to beg?"

You can't help but let the smile slip onto your lips then, "Why would you beg for my name?"

"Because I want it," he pointed out, still grinning "-Because I want to know you, and personally, I think it should start with a name."

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you let your fork hang there on the path to your face. You took a moment, scampered your eyes along his face (dark brown eyes so incredibly soft, curls coming down from where he put them up in individual tendrils). Your resolve was weakening, it was really and truly broken under Patrick Verona's hand.

Stupid pretty boys-

"Y/N," you said finally (quieter than intended), immediately pulling a bite to your mouth.

Patrick blinked, "What?"

"'S my name," you explain -shortly, moving a hand in front of your mouth as you chew, "-Y/N."

His eyes lit up at the words, that stupid charming grin smoothing onto his face as he repeated, softer than expected, "Y/N."

You shove down the fluster that begs to climb up your cheeks at his accented voice saying your name. It's something you'd never really thought about but now that it's said, you probably should've thought about it.

Patrick leaned back in his chair, eyes still set on you. He was still grinning, as he said simply, "Suits you."

You furrow your eyebrows, "What's that supposed to mean?"

He raises his hands in faux surrender, laughing to himself, "Jesus, you're a true ball of rage, you know 'at?"

"I'm not-" you huff out, and take a deep breath in, "-I'm not mad."

"Defensive then," he mends, "-You act as though I'm about to strike any minute."

You pursed your lips, "Whose to say you aren't?"

"Me," Patrick laughs, "-This entire conversation. The way I've acted around you since the beginning-"

"Oh, shut up," you roll your eyes, unable to stop the smile creeping onto your lips, "-you were an asshole once."

He groaned, but something like amusement was twinkling in his eyes, "You are the most stubborn human being on this earth-"

"You took my spot," you interrupt, sturdy.

"-It's public property," Patrick argued back, "-and how was I supposed to know it was yours before I sat in it?"

You paused, for a moment, before saying, "You couldn't. But, you could have given it to me when I asked."

"And then we wouldn't be here," he explained, now fully grinning, "-and wouldn't that just be such a bore."

Your eyes swam over his face a moment, Patrick Verona. And his dumb persistence. And his stupid handsome face-

God.

You let out a long sigh, picking around at your food. Eyes watching the swirl of your fork, you debate a few different things to say. Finally, after a few spare seconds, you made up your mind.

"Yeah," you hum, flickering your eyes up to his, "-it would."

Patrick grinned, big and bright and twinkly (you felt your heart skip a beat in your chest). His eyes, the deep brown that if you weren't careful you could stare at for way too long, were soft but still sort of happy, eager. Definitely eager.

And maybe, just maybe, you could get used to-

"I told you I could work on the 'stranger' thing," he suddenly said, smirking, "-You never should've doubted me."

"What?" You raised an eyebrow, confused.

"You said-" Patrick explained, "-you don't give your name out to strangers. And I said I could work on that part-"

You level a look at him.

"-And look, I did," he continued, before adding with a smirk, "-I have successfully escaped the cavernous barrier, deeper than the ocean I'd say, that walls you off from any poor soul who wishes to know you-"

"You're really pushing it, Verona," you chime back, fiery (but not quite all the way).

"What?" He raised his eyebrows, like he said nothing at all to warrant the reaction, "-You can't tell me that it's not like pulling teeth getting to know you. Or trying to anyway-"

You press your lips onto a flat line, "Wow, you must be a sort of masochist, then?

He faltered for a second, before laughing a little, "Oh absolutely, I chase the high of you ignoring me for 2 hours straight every day."

You rolled your eyes, biting down a smile, "I despise you."

"Better that than indifferent," he responded with ease, "-I prefer you feeling something rather than nothing at all."

"Oh my god-"

It continued like that, a back and forth, as you finish eating your mediocre cafeteria lunch. The silence is sparse but not uncomfortable when Patrick isn't running his mouth, that is. It was nice. Insanely nice. You'd probably never had as much fun on this campus as you did with him, just in general, but...

"Same time Wednesday?" He poses with a cheeky grin, leaning onto one hand against the table -closer to you than before.

You felt something warm swirl into your stomach, as your eyes flickered over his face. He was still smiling, like he wasn't able to stop when he was here with you. And something in you never wanted to see it go away anyway.

So, with a slight head tilt and a brighter grin than what you'd let slip past all day, you repeated.

"Same time Wednesday."

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luveline · 1 year ago

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whenever youre free!! can you please write a spencer x reader where we meet spencer during an early season where he’s still cute and awkward maybe we date too but something happens and we don’t see him for a long time only to meet him again when he’s older and hotter (post prison) and there’s still crazy tension after all those years. in love with your writing btw!!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

tysm for requesting! hope this is ok :D ♡ 1.2k

cw vaguely suggestive theme

Looking at Spencer, you could almost think you were fresh out of college again, unsure of yourself and in need of a friend.

He'd been much more than a friend. It's why you're here.

The cake might have been a bad idea. You hold it between two hands, the subtle smell of chocolate rising from the box's ill-fitting lid. Your breath catches, words coming out wonky, "Hey. Spencer?"

He looks up from his book, startled at being found, you think. "Y/N?"

He looks the same.

Obviously, he's older. He has facial hair and his curls are styled rather than having been left to their own devices, but you feel as hopelessly enamoured with him as you had years ago, because he still smiles like a puppy dog.

You're twice as surprised as he is when he stands from his coffee table to hug you. The cake box wobbles in your hands as he squeezes you, swaying you from side to side, his laugh warm in your ear.

"What are you doing back here?" he asks, diving backward to see your face. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"I still had JJ's number, you know, from when I wanted that address, and she texted me to say you'd been released, and I," —your voice curls tighter, are you talking too much?— "know you might not want to hear from me, but I was worried about you. You were my best friend."

His smile flickers. You press the cake into his hands.

"That's for you," you say.

Spencer's wavering smile turns to the box. He sets it down on the table beside his coffee cup and tented book, removing the lid carefully. You remember suddenly how nice his hands are, and the tracing of his fingertips down your bare shoulders. Goosebumps erupt along the ghost of his touch.

"Well done on not being a criminal," he reads, snorting. "Funny. Little too soon."

You feel like your stomach's fallen out, but he drops the act with another laugh.

"Oh, you're still a jerk," you say. "I'm glad something hasn't changed."

"You think I've changed?" he asks.

"You didn't get any taller, if that's what you're asking."

Spencer's smile turns fond. It's the sweet, sticky smile he'd always give you before he'd tell you he loved you, or that you were the best best friend ever. Or that last night, when you followed him hand in hand down the long hallway to his bedroom.

"I wasn't that much of a jerk, was I?" he asks.

"No, you weren't." You hold your hands behind your back. "Could I join you? Just for a bit?"

"You brought me a cake. I can't say no, can I? Of course you can sit down. I'll get you a coffee, okay?"

He touches his hand to your arm as he passes. You sit down in the seat across from him, sick with what-if and should-have. What if I could've stayed? Maybe I should have done more. But when Spencer ignored the letters you sent him while he was incarcerated, you figured you'd done more than he wanted. The cake was a last ditch effort, spurred on by JJ's text that read, I think he'd be really happy to see you.

Spencer puts a china cup down in front of you. You take a sip, muscle memory, and grin at him shyly as he slides into the seat across from you. "You remembered."

"I remember everything."

"Right. Your photographic memory."

"Eidetic, and sure, but I wouldn't forget about you." He reads your shyness for what it is, worry you've overstepped. He's too perceptive to trick. "I think I tried, but… I have so many bad memories, I wanted the good ones to keep."

You can't imagine the things he experienced in prison. JJ couldn't tell you much. You knew from how you had to address his letters alone that he was sent to a general correctional facility in Mexico, rather than the protective custody he'd needed. He doesn't look terrible considering, but you've barely seen him since you had to leave. He's aged well. The only worry is his dark under eyes.

"We had a good time," you say gently. "I knew you'd need that. That's why I sent you all those letters, you know? I wasn't trying to come back into your life, I know I don't deserve it after I left, but I couldn't stop thinking about you by yourself."

You stare at his book.

"How many letters did you send?" he asks.

"I don't really remember."

"I didn't get one." He grimaces. "I didn't get any from my mom, either. Think it was a coincidence?"

Spencer's time in was kind of sick. He stabbed himself, made friends with criminals, played a lot of chess, and learned how to make tacos in a doritos bag. It was also arguably the loneliest and most degrading time of his life.

One coffee becomes two, two becomes a third to go. You feel a hundred emotions but there's one that stands out the most as you drift around Pentagon City with him —wanting. You want him to be your best friend again, to rub your back and hold you when you're tired, to take you grocery shopping in his beat up P130. You want him to kiss you like he had, like he was searching for something, but he's changed so much that you don't know if your Spencer is still in there, under everything, or if he'd even want to.

"You live in the same apartment?" you ask.

"Can you imagine how much it would cost me to move that many books? Paying the rent turns out cheaper," he says, the two of you walking in the grey street. "What about you? You didn't come all the way here to see me."

"I actually did." You rub up the length of your upper arm, sheepish. "I did, Spencer."

For a while, all you can hear is the plastic rustling of the bag held in his hand.

"Thank you for writing to me. I didn't get to read them, but it makes a difference."

You lift your head to meet his eyes. He holds your gaze, a charge behind his dark brown eyes. You used to think his irises and his pupils were one and the same, but you can see now that there are flecks of light in his irises. His hedging of thick lashes kiss in the corners as he slowly, slowly smiles.

You glare at him. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"You know what. You're doing that thing. Pretending you're not trying to make me nervous."

"I'm not doing that. Flustered, but not nervous." Is he smirking?

"Flustered," you repeat, your smile stupidly big now, cheeks aching. "Yeah, right, Reid."

His pinky brushes yours. You don't have any proof that he's doing it purposefully, but he is.

"Do you want to get something to eat? You can tell me what you were writing in your letters. I'd really, really like to know." His voice is threaded with a familiar timidity for the first time since you reunited.

There you are, you think happily. "Sure. You buy me a sticky bun from our old place and I'll tell you all my written secrets."

"Deal."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #sorry I missed the mark a bit with the crazy tension this is not super tense <\3

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readbyred · 1 year ago

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may i request how the dps boys would react to realising they have a severe crush on a, preferably shy, reader! tysm <\3

Oh, I've been waiting for dps requests! Sorry for my late replies everybody, I got demotivated again because tumblr deleted a few of my x reader posts (and a few others). But I'll try to not let that happen again if I can even help it

I think Knox would have such a silly time trying to approach you. Because we all know he’s awkward, but determined at best and, well… pushy at worst. I'm trying to go with the version I saw in a play, because thankfully they cut out the party scene which means he’s still delightfully insufferable but not awful. Anyways, he would jump on every occasion to talk to you. And then just. Stand there. He’d try to give you flowers and poems, everything really. But he loses brain cells every time he’s around you. At least you’re both equally stressed about social interactions. He gets a little braver when you give him a smile or any other sign you like him. Not less awkward, but a bit more motivated to go for it. His main problem is that he can't read you well and despite being big on feelings and all, he still has a hard time actually talking to you. Clumsily, he showers you with over the top things, that most would find cringey but you think of as endearing. And if he thinks there's a chance he’ll lose you, he’ll confess right away. I think he is brave and pretty open about feelings. Just stressed out

With Neil, it's not an issue at all that you're shy. He’s more so taken aback by his own strong feelings. Because he wasn't expecting to fall this hard. But give him like five work days to process and he’ll be all in. I feel like he would take his time to confess but he’d make it known that he cares about you. He’d be checking up on you every time he can, bringing you coffee, asking to practice lines together, go to the movies in town. Even before you two start dating you just wake up and half of his sweatshirts are in your drawer (he likes to borrow you his clothes if you’re cold) and your desk is littered with poems he shared with you. He’s a gentle lover, but he knows what he wants and when the time is right Neil has no problem confessing

It's much funnier with Cameron because this boy is in panic mode 24/7. At first he legit thought he was sick because he always felt dizzy and distracted around you. And he’s a traditionalist. Everything has to be perfect when you’re around. Like he beats himself up about every little mistake he made around you. But also makes a point to treat you RIGHT. If you’re shy he might not know how to approach you at first, because he’s not sure if you’re even interested. And how to make you like him. After much teasing (mainly from Charlie, of course) he gets fed up with his friends and decides to make a move. It might not be the most romantic when he does, but it's sweet and genuine

Another one that would take time to confess is Meeks. He’s pretty quick to accept that he’s crushing on you. He’s like, yeah obviously they are amazing, now what do I do with that? He tries to give you things. Small things. Like maybe he could borrow you a book that you’ve wanted to read for a long time of buy you a coffee/tea if you’re out in the town. He doesn't explicitly say that he liked you but it's easy to tell and he’s not one to be shy about it either. So when you guys do get together, you already know his more… romantic side

On the contrary, Charlie takes time to process his feelings. He had crushes before, but real feelings (strong ones at that) aren't the norm for him. Sometimes he catches himself losing his cool around you and it messes with him so bad. He would probably ask Knox for advice. Which is a bad move. But he figures that at least his friend is more familiar with having those sorts of feelings. Nothing much comes of it because I can't imagine Knox giving him any good advice on the subject, but after he was able to talk about liking you, he decides to just go for it. Well, in small steps. Primarily because he’s just not an intense guy, but also because he’s surprisingly mature when it comes to respecting your levels of comfort. Doesn't mean it gets boring though, it's Charlie we’re talking about. Once you get together there's not a one dull moment with him by your side

With Todd, it might be difficult at first. He’s overwhelmed by fis feelings and has a tendency to talk himself out of making any sorts of moves. Why would you like somebody like him? He tells himself he doesn't have a chance, surely. It only confirms his suspicions when you don't take initiative. It's only after he’s been moping around for a few days that Neil approaches him about it and proceeds to give him shit for not doing anything to let you know his feelings. He’s like, bro, so you care about them so much that you’d rather not have them in your life because you want them in your life so much??? Make it make sense. So with Neil's encouragement, he tries to at least talk to you and see where it goes from there. Still shocked when you end up returning his feelings. You’re in his poems now, even if it's not very obvious (he's not as straightforward as Knox, so it's not ‘i love (yn) and I want them to be mine’ kind of deal). This is the only one where I'm sure you might have to make some sort of a move. Todd’s like a spider - he’s more scared than you are and if he could, he would just silently hang out in the corner of the room you’re in. But he gets a little braver after he starts feeling more secure

Lastly, Pitts is not as bad as Todd, but still takes his time. He’s comfortable with liking you and he knows what he likes, but he’s not in any rush to make things official. So any time he has any chance to talk to you, he does and just wants to see how things go from there. He jokes around with you, asks to come study together, tries to be close. He does care, just in a more chill way than some of the other poets would. If you two have been talking for some time, he would have no problem asking you to go out with him, doesn't make you feel pressured or anything. If the others are cool with it he will do his best to have you come to their meetings at night as well. So you do not only get an awesome boyfriend out of it, but also a great friend group

#dps #dps x reader #charlie dalton x reader #knox overstreet x reader #neil perry x reader #todd anderson x reader #gerard pitts x reader #steven meeks x reader #richard cameron x reader

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 2 years ago

Text

Oh No, There's An Arm Around My Waist

Bradley Bradshaw x fem!reader 2k words

summary: You wake up in the same bed as Bradley Bradshaw. That's it. Or is it?

tagging a few people who said they'd like a part two... it took me a while but whatever, right? @roostergooster @pono-pura-vida @chassy21 @startrekfangirl2233-fic-recs

sequel to “Oh No, There's Only One Bed”, can be read seperately tho

top gun masterlist

The light that filtered through the windows was golden, almost, warm and comfortable and you were cozy and sleepy and smiling, giving yourself all the time in the world to wake up. You blinked your eyes open slowly and tugged the covers all the way up to your chin and shimmied a little further down into the warmth of the bed and for just a few seconds, enjoyed the feeling of being pulled closer.

Then you ripped open your eyes again and froze to the very tips of your toes.

You were being pulled closer.

There was an arm around your waist, a body behind yours, breath on your neck. And with a start, the events of last night came rushing back to you.

The booked out hotel. The one bedroom. The one bed. Bradley. Bradley's words, Bradley's touches, Bradley's goddamn pajama-briefs. That you hadn't been able to fall asleep. The way he'd hugged you close. How you'd almost confessed your feelings to him.

Those fucking feelings. Those feelings you'd kept buried inside of you for so long, so goddamn long that you had never even thought to tell another living, breathing human being. Not your family, not your squad, nobody because hell, Bradley was a friend, he was your friend, and nothing more than that.

But now here you were, wrapped up tightly in his arms in the same bed. And he was only moving closer. Pushing closer to you, pulling you closer to him, burying his face in your hair and splaying his hand out on your stomach.

So maybe - just maybe - there was a teensy tinsy part of your friendship that was more than a friendship. Had perhaps always been more than a friendship. Longing glances you'd always put off as looking out for each other. Kisses on the cheek. Kisses on the forehead. Kisses on your hair. His arm around your waist, around your shoulders. Things you'd played off as him just being generally affectionate. But maybe that hadn't been it. Maybe that wasn't it. Maybe those moments when you'd almost kissed, maybe they'd been real, not just figments of your imagination - like after deadly missions, stumbling into each others arms, or slow dancing the night of Mav's wedding, or that one time in the jacuzzi.

You didn't know just how long you were lying there, on your side, trying to steady your breathing and keep as calm and as quiet as possible, not moving an inch. You didn't want to know. Your thoughts were running in circles, pondering the same questions again and again and each time arriving at different conclusions. A part of you was screaming to do something. Anything. But that probably would've been mental suicide. So you kept still and hoped, begged, prayed to all gods you could think of that this wasn't some dream and that your imagination was not off pranking you right now.

Finally - it had to have been at least half an hour - Bradley shifted behind you. He groaned, pushed away from you just the tiniest bit, pulled his arm from around you and brought his hand up to shield him from the sun.

"Good morning", he muttered, all deep, raspy morning voice, instantly sending a shiver down your spine. You didn't trust yourself to turn around just then - maybe he wasn't pressed into your back anymore but that didn't mean that he wasn't still way too close.

"How'd you know I'm awake?", you asked instead, already missing his warmth (even though the room certainly wasn't cold).

"I've got a sixth sense when it comes to you", he chuckled. He'd turned onto his side again and was talking to you, directly (indirectly? to the back of your head?) now, and you'd known him long enough that you were well aware of it. And well aware of the fact that he'd stare at you until you turned around to him no matter how long it took. He was stubborn like that. So you did turn, even closer to him now, folding your hands between cheek and pillow and biting your lip to ground you just the slightest. To remind you that this was still reality. That all of this was happening to you right now.

That Bradley was, in fact, lying on his pillow next to you, with adorable bed hair and a cheeky smile and a bare torso and way too few inches in between you. You could feel yourself tense up again.

"Like you knew tonight that I wasn't falling asleep?", you asked, a bit breathless.

Bradley nodded.

"Exactly like that."

"Well, thank you then." You couldn't help but smile at him a little. "I slept like a baby."

He laughed at that and for a second you closed your eyes and just soaked up the sound. You could very well imagine always waking up next to him like that. With his laughter fanning against your cheek, his fingers softly running up your arm almost as though he thought that if he did it slowly enough, you wouldn't find anything strange about it.

You didn't.

It wasn't strange, per se. It was new and electrifying and encouraging you in your (childish? foolish?) belief that maybe, yes, maybe you were more than a friend to him as well. Maybe he was testing the waters. Maybe he was going further already. Touching you like that, it was... bold. Wasn't it?

Maybe you had to be a little bolder as well. Just the way you'd wanted to tonight.

So you pulled a hand from underneath your cheek and, tentatively, very deliberately, brushed through his curls, all the while heavily avoiding looking him in the eyes. You could feel the way he was staring at you, burning holes into your skin, but you just pushed through and ignored him as best as you could. You were already feeling too close to passing out.

When you pulled your hand back, his fingers had reached your shoulder, dancing along the spaghetti straps of your nightdress, and you took a deep breath in before you allowed yourself to meet his eyes after all.

"Sorry", you whispered, getting a little more nervous now. "You had a bedhead."

Bradley made a sound in the back of his throat that you couldn't quite identify as any particular emotion.

"No apologising", he muttered, his eyes falling down to his fingers on your skin as he sneaked his way up over the covers and brushed his thumb along your throat, your chin, your jaw. "Just do it again."

You swallowed hard. But who were you to deny him? So despite your racing heart and despite your screaming mind, you reached out and tangled your fingers in his curls again. You were sure now he was on the same wavelength as you. Right? He had to be. This wasn't platonic behaviour. This was nowhere close to platonic. Was it? And if not... What were you supposed to do with that information? What did it mean? Had Bradley liked you, too, for just as long? For longer? How much time, how much relationship had you missed out on because you'd been too afraid to act on your feelings? How would you go from here? You couldn't... You wouldn't... Would you?

"You need to stop thinking so much", Bradley said softly, pulling you gently from your thoughts back to reality - of his thumb smoothing over your skin, of your fingers in his hair, of his breath on your cheek and the warmth of his body. "It's alright just to act once a while."

You had to smile a bit because he'd learnt that from Mav, but you didn't feel the need to remind him. Maybe he was right. Your overthinking had rarely ever helped you. But, well, it was quite hard to get rid of an old habit, wasn't it? And were you brave enough to leave it behind just this once?

With that smile of his... Maybe.

"Okay", you said. "If you say so. Then kiss me."

Bradley's eyes widened for just a millisecond before his lips twitched into a grin and he leaned forward - leaned in, closer to you, and your breath caught in your throat and your hand stilled in his hair and his thumb on your jaw settled to keep you in place. And then his lips met yours and the entire world came to a halt.

This was perfect. He was perfect. He'd always been, but his kisses... Oh god, his kisses. What had you been missing out on? You could've had this forever. He was working magic on you, you were sure, because no one should be allowed to kiss this good, to make you feel this weak in your knees even though you were lying down, to make you tense up and relax at the same time. It was truly like time had stopped, for just a few minutes - neither of you dared to move, too engrossed in the moment, too enamoured with each other.

It turned into slow-motion at some point. You didn't know just when. It melted into golden honey, thick and heavy and heady. You could really feel yourself heat up now, feel the warmth of him seeping into you, of your own cheeks flaring red. You could feel every particle of your body react to him as he cupped your jaw and pulled you closer, as you pulled your hand from his hair to move up and down his arm, to lightly press your nails into his skin.

Maybe it was that, your nails raking along his biceps, that flicked some switch in Bradley, but you didn't know for sure and you didn't care as his tongue ran along your bottom lip, asking for consent, asking if- and your lips parted without hesitance, with a soft, low sigh, with your nails digging into his arm because that seemed to have had a wonderful reaction the first time. He pulled you closer, closer, closer, pulled his hand from your cheek and grabbed your waist instead to pull you even closer, closer, closer there too.

You trailed your fingers down his arm as well, abandoning your scratching in favor of softly stroking, giving yourself time because oh, you had all the damn time in the world with him, to reach the back of his hand, to wrap your fingers around it (your pinky touched his pinky and you had to smile into the kiss, despite how hot and bothered you were getting) and slid your other hand back up into his hair to tug on his roots. Then, just because you could and just because you wanted to, you pushed his hand from your waist over your hips and down to the top of your thigh, right where your nightdress ended. You could feel Bradley's fingers flexing, gripping just a little tighter now that he had naked skin under his fingertips. That was all the confirmation you needed to bring his hand up again, to slide it softly, carefully, slowly over your underwear, your nightdress bunching up above his arm, until he was holding right onto your waist again - onto the naked skin of your waist, just because he could and just because you wanted him to.

That was when he pulled back, his forehead still pressed against yours, his eyes still closed, his fingers still tight on your waist.

"Fuck", he muttered, breathless and panting. "We should probably stop before this goes too far."

"There's a too far?", you asked, just as breathless and just as panting.

"With you?" He opened his eyes to look right at you, his thumb brushing over your skin again. "Of course not. But this is a hotel room and we're on borrowed time and most importantly, we just had our first kiss. I'd like to take you out on an actual date first."

Your heart stopped beating for a second. Then it started hammering. Blood rushed to your ears and you heard a frantic ringing and you had to close your eyes and bite down on your lip and then open your eyes again just to make sure that this was, in fact, all still reality, and that it was indeed happening, unfolding as it did. That Bradley was here with you, that he'd touched and kissed you, that he wanted to take you out on a date.

"I'd like that", you whispered finally. "I'd really like that."

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun #top gun x reader #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #x reader

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ghouljams · 4 months ago

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In your tags with the "not moose" breaking the Witch's wards you said you had to nerf her. Now all I can think about how insanely strong Witch is. Since it's a long generation of witches in her family- I guess she's well known in the magic community. Maybe they even invite her to be apart of some witches coven 👀. But she always refuses because she likes doing her own thing. But imagine she has to go to like certain meetings and what not and Price sees her in some formal witchy garb 👀👀👀

I haven't talked much about other witches in this au! I keep meaning to. Yes, Witch has been invited to multiple covens, but she prefers her privacy. Witch's family is well known as old magic, and older covens often invite her because they know she's got that strong ancestral tie to her magic. New covens of young witches often invite her because they think she's a novice witch. She does a lot of "makeshift" magic because she knows it so well, and where old witches would see her as somewhat of a prodigy, new age witches see her as inexperienced and unprepared.

As you might imagine that does not fly with Witch. So she only goes to coven meetings for 1 of 2 reasons: for a sounding board on a problem(old witches), or to be petty(new witches). Here's Witch interacting with a very condescending witch, and Price seeing her in her formal witchy clothes.

You snap a card down on the coffee shop table, the crisp sound of the cardstock against lacquered wood is music to your ears. You study the card, the mice, and jot down a few notes in your nearby journal. A cup of tea is set down in front of you, you're quick to swipe your cards out of the way.

"Are you reading tarot?" The girl, you think she's the owner, asks.

"Uh," You look at your Lenormand deck, "Yeah, I am." It's usually easier to lie to people when you don't want to explain what it is you're doing. You don't always want to have a conversation with a stranger about magic and how they have a friend that's really into "that sort of thing."

The girl sort of... scoffs, and rolls her eyes. Rude. "You know it's not all tarot right? That's an oracle deck," She tells you(it's not), sitting down across from you. You don't remember inviting her company, but it's fine. You close your notebook and gather your cards back into their deck. You're not really a fan of being tested like this.

"You read cards?" You try to smile, and look friendly. You wonder if you could make all her hair fall out. She gestures at the store generally. You look around at the, sigh, occult artwork and gothic vibes. Sort of overplayed if you're being honest. You can spy a few "Wicca-pedia" books on the overstuffed shelves. There's a table of crystals for sale, that explains why you're so itchy.

"I'm a witch," She says returning your smile.

"Neat," You already want to text your sister, or Rún, about this. "What do you practice?" New witches always want to talk about their practice, and it gives you time to shuffle your cards.

"Right hand path mostly, but recently?" She leans forward, whispers conspiratorially, "I've been dealing a lot with the fae." You pause your shuffle, your stomach clenching unpleasantly.

"Really?" You ask, "I thought you were supposed to stay away from them."

"Oh, yeah, you should definitely stay away from them," She nods, "They're dangerous for beginners, but once you know how to deal with them you can get them to do all sorts of stuff for you." You snap a card down on the table, a nervous habit from your mother.

The Mice again.

That's not your card.

You glance around the shop, the people milling about. You don't need to see them to know what they are, you can feel it. The mice in the storehouse, waiting for the lights to go out before they gorge themselves.

"So how long have you been practicing?" The dumbass asks.

"Not long," You mumble, still scanning the shop for anyone you might recognize. It's not technically a lie, in the grand scheme of things you really haven't been a witch long. You know witches far longer lived and far longer practiced. You shuffle your card back into the deck and set it on your notepad.

"I've been at it for about five years now," She powers through you ignoring her, "Do you have a coven or anyone you're learning from?" You glance at her, barely paying attention, as you pull a coin from your pocket and a pin from your skirt.

"No, I'm-"

"You should really be learning from someone," She cuts you off "magic can be dangerous for beginners." You ignore her harder, jabbing the pin into your thumb and smearing the blood on the silver coin. "Uh, sweetie?" You reach to tug a sugar packet free of its container on the table and break it open over the coin, what else, what else? Payment, threat, bait- you pull a lighter from your pocket and melt the plastic pin head to stick it to the coin. Assurance, good, done. "What are you doing?" The girl sounds annoyed, like you're making a mess for no reason.

"Making a fae ward," You tell her, she scoffs. Rude, again.

"You need a little more than some random trash to do a spell," She shakes her head, waves a hand. You take the opportunity to flick the coin off the table with practiced fingers as she tells you how badly you need a mentor and how you can't believe everything you see about magic on the internet. The coin goes flying, and pings neatly against the leg of a chair before starting to pinball around the cafe floor. "-you should really come to a coven meeting, see what real magic looks like."

You can feel your magic tracing its web through the store, you're not sure how much more real you can get with it. Not when you can see the fae customers trying not to jump away from your spell. Still, an insult is an insult. You fold your hands on the table and level your uninvited guest with what you hope is a neutral expression.

"When do you meet?"

You're remembering why you hate covens as you get ready. First of all you've been drawing wards on yourself all day, and snuck in a ritual bath, then you had to find your great-grandmother's old chatelaine since your ritual robes don't have any pockets. Most importantly you forgot how fucking cold it is when you're just in the gauzy ritual fabric your aunt made for you.

You check the clock, you're running a little behind so you don't have time to put on anything else. That's just great. Maybe you'll skip it. But then that stupid- Ugh. You take a breath to steady your emotions, no sense in getting worked up when you're so thoroughly doused in magic. You grab a length of Mal's lace from your closet and pin it in place to veil yourself. No way are you letting these little dumbasses stick anything on you.

Another quick check of the clock as you lace your heels, then you're out the back door. You stop yourself at the fence, stare out at the snowy winter landscape. You can already feel the frostbite setting in.

"lace looks good on you," Price whispers, his fingers feel so rough where they brush your back. You hum, and turn to face him. His eyes drop immediately to your chest. You wait for him to decide to meet your gaze again, and find yourself feeling a tad self conscious. You've never been self conscious about going to a ritual sky-clad before. Witches had a long history of dancing naked in the moonlight after all.

"Since when do you cross the fence unannounced?" You ask, trying to bring his attention back where it's meant to be.

"Since when do you leave the house with so much skin showing?" He fires back, stalking around you to check the back like a shark. You lift your veil for him, let him trace his fingers down your spine. They stop short of the draped fabric covering your ass, and you suppress the shiver it draws from you. You let your veil drop back over his hand, obscuring his view.

"I'm going to a ritual."

"Any reason they're getting the works?"

"I'm trying to prove a point." You sigh. "I may have gotten a little-"

"Petty?" Price fills in, you're glad you don't have to say it. His hand smooths over your shoulder, sliding under the lace to cup your neck. "Anything I should be worried about?" You tip your head, feeling the curl of his fingers against your throat, the lingering warmth of his cigar still on his fingertips. You wonder if it'll leave a mark.

"No." It feels too plain an answer, but you doubt there's anything he could do even if he was worried. You're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, especially when other witches are involved.

Price hums, and you find the sound resonant as he tips your head back to rest against his shoulder. His body presses flush to your back, and you let it. You want nothing more than to sink into him, to let yourself relax into the dangerous hold he has over you, but you know your own ego. If there's one thing you can't stand it's a witch that thinks she's untouchable. You'd hate to see fresh talent eaten before it'd had a chance to blossom.

"You could escort me," You say, the idea striking you suddenly. What better way to show a new witch the dangers that hide behind fae kindness than to bring Price as your plus one? You're sure he's eaten more witches than he's comfortable divulging, but more importantly the wild listens to him. If he can take you through the forest you won't have to be cold so long.

"And what do I get, for this service?" He asks.

"What do you want?"

His hands go to cup your breasts almost as soon as the words leave your mouth, the thin fabric of your ritual robe doing little to hide his callused grip as he squeezes the soft flesh.

"Ten minutes," He breathes.

"You know you can have more than that," You smile.

"Not with you like this," His hands slip down, cup the softness of your stomach, hover over the pleat of fabric covering your legs.

"Alright," You agree, "ten minutes-" you can feel the ripple the goes through him, a deal of temptation being made, "-but only after, and you can't rip anything."

"Of course not," He agrees, "I want to see my witch dressed up again after all."

Inspiration images for the witch's ritual wear

#you ever make a character and go “if I knew you in real life I would hate you”#captain price #captain johnathan price #captain john price #captain john price x reader #captain price cod #captain price mw2 #captain price x reader #john price #john price cod #john price mw2 #john price x reader #price cod #price mw2 #price x reader #f!reader #oc: witch #fae!price #1fae1

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smallestapplin · 6 months ago

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Alucard in dbd idea

Hi, castlevania dropped in dbd and I've been feral, please excuse my rambling.

Reader is a Belmont.

You and Trevor in the fog first and a month or so before Alucard shows up, and when he does he's glad to see his old friend and questions who the other Belmont is(you)

You're delighted to get to know him and Trevor more, as you have read so many books and texts about him from previous Belmonts, it's so nice to finally meet him! However, much like Trevor, there is a bit of a learning curve he has to go through.

Other survivors try to help him, but most aren't really easy on him, which is fair and you don't blame them! After all, in trials it's nerve wrecking, you can't exactly teach him with all the time in the world. But he picks up gens with ease.

It's everything else that trips him up.

Huntress landed one hell of a shot on him, he shouted surprised and pained by the hatchet that came out of nowhere across the map.

His shoulder now slashed, slowly dripping blood and soaking into his shirt and cloak. but ten minutes later as he was helping you on a gen, you noticed he looked to be in far more agony than anyone you've ever met, his skin sweaty, taking shallow breathes, he looked scared.

"Alucard?"

"I'm not healing, why am I not healing? Gods it hurts...what is this?"

You are swift to whip out your med kit and start patching him up, gently shushing his pained whimpers as you focus on healing him.

"There, good as new!"

He still looks so confused, and it makes sense, his own regenerative abilities always came in handy, he's never really need a med kit, and most of his human companions had a mage on hand for healing.

A match against Trapper was much the same.

Alucard didn't even notice the trap, that or he did didn't care, he just walked right into it and his scream was heard across the map, his second scream as he placed on hook sounded like he was right next to you he was so loud.

When you got him off hook and to a safer place, he collapsed on you, his forehead on your shoulder, which was growing wet, either from his sweat or tears you arent sure, but he held onto you as you patched him up, shaking like a leaf in a storm.

"Why...why does it hurt so much? I...I shouldn't have gotten hurt from such a weak trap."

He sounds so tired, his voice is weak, small even.

"The entity's abilities it seems, in this realm you're nothing but a human."

"This is what you feel?" He moves, his watery glowing eyes looking up at your focused expression.

"Every match."

He's horrifed, all these matches where you've gritted your teeth and bared through, all these matches where you sacrificed yourself just to make sure everyone else lived, hell even the missions he knew you took as a Belmont- speaking of!

Your family goes on such dangerous missions, gets injured or even killed, and yet you still bare your family crest? His respect for you and your family grew, knowing first hand the pain of your injuries and yet you still choose to be so selfless.

Cue Alucard falling for you, the poor thing didn't even mean to.

It's just you pulled him off the hook, the bell rings louder, warning there isn't much time left, yet you still came back for him.

The second he was touching the ground, he looked at you, despite the pain he looked at you confused.

Your face was stern, filled with sheer determination as you grab his hand and lead him to the door.

"Why did you come back? You could have escaped instead of dying here with me."

You patched him at at the gate, just to be safe.

"Either neither of us die or we both die."

Your eyes locked

"I'm not leaving you here. Come on."

His own eyes widen.

Oh.

........so this is how those dames in novels feel being saved.

Oh, Trevor is going to have his head.

He grows more skilled and knowledgeable the longer he's here, and is determined to help you (by proxy the others) he's noticeably closer to you, practically shoulder to shoudler with you by the fire, the first to help you off hook or to heal you.

Even his familar, which followed him here likes to hang off you and get scritches.

He can feel Trevor's side eye, knowing the older Belmont isn't fond of him cozying up to hos descendent.

But he at least knows Alucard would treat you right.

#dbd x reader #castlevania x reader #castlevania alucard #castlevania alucard x reader #castlevania x Belmont reader #dbd alucard x reader #castlevania headcanons #??#Belmont reader #I've been obsessed #hi I love the castlevania games so this collab has had me by the neck

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cheriladycl01 · 1 year ago

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Paparazzi - Lando Norris x UniStudent! Reader

Plot: you are a university student in the UK, and the Paparazzi manage to find out where you go and stalk you due to rumors surfacing about.

It was a pretty shit day at university for you, you were a third year law student who had just come back from an amazing placement with Mercedes as part of their legal counsel.

You'd had so much fun and had worked really closely with Lewis and George. It also was the first year that you were able to travel from the last half of one season, to the 3/4 of the next season.

He was a driver for McLaren, his job and you being a student meant that you guys didn't see each other as much as you'd like.

You had been dating for the good part of 4 years now having met in secondary school and stayed as friends even when he left the school. When you started on your A-levels and he was progressing in his driving career he asked you to be his girlfriend.

Now he was in Formula One and you were about to be graduating university. It had however been difficult, the transition of being with Lando pretty much everyday, and now not seeing him was killing you.

It had taken a tole on you, you had dark circles under your eyes, your nose was red from the cold. Your class hadn't been great either and tears were starting to brim your eyes. You just wanted to get home and cry it out in private.

Lando: Hey Babe, its Thursday so media day today and McLaren are busy! Call me later, love you lots!

The text made more tears brim in your eyes until you heard the snap of a camera. Next you saw the flash.

Your eyes dart up seeing the 5 or 6 people with cameras behind you, following you. You pick up your pace, going towards your specific building on campus where you could hide out with your personal tutor until they left you alone.

You walk into the building into a flurry of students walking around the building pulling the hood of Lando's hoodie up. You make your way to a back stairwell that was quieter than the main one and made your way up the 5 flights of stairs to where your personal tutors room was.

"Michael?" you ask entering the room, nobody was there so you sat on the small little sofa he had at the side of his office. You pull the work bench closer to you, placing your laptop and book down before getting on with some work for your Intellectual Property Module.

Minutes later Michael comes in, a shocked look on his face as he observes you.

"Y/N what are you doing here?" he asks walking past you and taking a seat at his desk, sipping from the takeaway coffee he had just brought.

"I had Paps come onto campus again. And i've had a bit of a shit day" you mumble looking at the email from Lewis asking you to do some research for him if you had any free time.

"Well, you know my door is always open for you"

"That's why i let myself in" you grin at him, already feeling better. He spoke to you for about an hour, while he was doing his own research and marking behind his computer.

"I think its safe to say they've left now" he admits engrossed in something on his computer.

"How'd you know?"

"There's articles already up, some of these headlines. Oh lord they are ridiculous" Michael admits scrolling down on his mouse wheel looking further.

"Huh?" you ask before looking online under your name.

Lando Norris Girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N, Seen Crying On University Campus After Breakup Report Y/N Y/L/N Seen On Campus Crying Is There Tension Between Lando Norris and Y/N Y/L/N On Her First Absent Race Of The Season Lando Norris Cheats On Girlfriend - Her Reaction Is Heartbreaking!

"I'm just going to go home. I don't have the energy to read any of these. Thank you for letting me stay" you admit, packing up your bag and nodding in a goodbye to your personal tutor.

As you exit the building and make your way to the carpark where your Mercedes-AMG SL 63 sat, courtesy of your time at Mercedes for the last year. You now still work for them, but from the Brackley and part-time around your degree.

You get in and let out a long sigh, you pull away getting onto the road driving back to yours and Lando's apartment which was about a 30 minute drive away.

Lando started to call you, the ringtone blaring through the car speakers that your phone was connected to. You hit accept on the screen, your eyes only momentarily wavering from the road.

"Y/N baby, what's up. The articles and the photos of you! You look so sad, what's going on?" he immediately starts grilling you like you'd expected him to when he would eventually see the articles.

"Sorry, I'm in the car right now! I just had a shitty say at uni and i really fucking miss you" you breathe out happy to finally admit it. It was the end of October now and you'd been back at university for a month.

"I know baby, you still planning to come out for the last race, in Abu Dhabi?" he offers, it sounds like he's busy and like he's walking around the McLaren garage. He did say it was media day...

"Erm, ill let you go. Its like midnight there and you have a big day with practice tomorrow" you say, he starts to stay something but you interrupt before he can.

"I love you, goodnight" you say to prompt him.

"Goodnight, ill see you soon" he sighs, he also sounded tired just like you.

You drove the rest of the way home, pulling up in the underground carpark and just sitting there for a few minutes taking in some breaths.

You eventually get out the car and head into yours and Lando's apartment. The apartment was always clean because either you were here or your parents were kind enough to house sit while you and Lando were away.

You did your normal routine for when Lando wasn't here, which was go to the gym, go back and shower, cook food eat food and go to sleep.

You never really had any motivation for anything when he wasn't around.

The next day was a free day from uni, you went to the Mercedes team, everyone could tell that something was up with you. They chose not to say anything and just let you get through your shift. You'd had a cute Good morning text from Lando, asking if you'd slept well and if you'd eaten.

You'd replied, saying yes to both and that you were just catching up on his free practices and that he had really good times, as you'd expected.

But part of you just longed for him to come home.

#lando norris #lando x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x you #formula one #formula one fanfiction #lando imagine #mclaren #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n

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sweetiebarnes · 1 year ago

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Twisted Pairing: Step Dad!Lloyd Hansen x Step Daughter!Reader

Word Count: 600+

Warnings: stepcest, voyeurism, female masturbation, nudity, implied future anal, minor daddy kink, dubcon/noncon if you squint, reader is early twenties, age gap.

Request: Lloyd Hansen, Step Dad, “What’s the matter? You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked man before.”, and anal. Requested by: anonymous

A/N: I'm sorry I've been so slow with writing these. January has proven to be much more difficult than I had anticipated. I promise the stories are coming, and I am looking forward to doing your requests. This isn't my best work, but I still had fun writing it. It has not been beta read, so any mistakes are my own. As always my work is intended for adult audiences so 18+ only! Minors DNI. Pay attention to all tags and warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Writing Event Masterlist (still in the works)

From the first time Lloyd saw you he knew he needed to have you. That’s the thing about Lloyd Hansen, he always gets what he wants. He’d only married your mother because of the connections she provided. With her he’d be able to spread his business out throughout the country. What he hadn’t expected was the delicious present she had been hiding.

Tonight your mother was out with friends from college. Lloyd knew this was the perfect opportunity to get what he’d been craving. You. He could picture you up in your bedroom reading one of your countless books. It was cute how you always seemed to find ways to avoid him. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, he knew you felt something too. There was a magnetic pull between the two of you, and tonight would be the night he finally gets what he’s needed.

Lloyd makes his way up the stairs and stops outside your bedroom door. He’d expected to hear nothing, but instead he could hear what sounded like quiet whimpers. His eyes flutter shut as he leans in closer hoping to be able to hear you better. “Oh… Oh fuck, Lloyd.” There was no denying what he heard that time. You were in there touching what belonged to him. Without giving it a second thought, Lloyd quickly began to undress himself. This hadn’t been how he planned to do this, but when the opportunity presents itself how could he say no?

Once undressed, Lloyd opens your door. It takes you a moment to realize he’s standing there, and boy was he thankful for that. For that meant he was able to get a full spread eagle view of your soaked cunt. He watched as your finger meticulously rubbed your clit. The little moans that left your mouth were like music to his ears. It was when he let out a small grunt of approval that your eyes finally opened.

The look of embarrassment washed over your face. But that look quickly turned into confusion and horror when you spotted that he was naked. Your eyes traveled down to his hard cock which was now between his large hand. Lloyd’s smirk grew when he saw that your eyes appeared to be glued on him. “What’s the matter? You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked man before.” His eyes never once leave yours as he slowly strides across your bedroom. “Oh come on, sunshine. We both know what you were just doing — who you were thinking about. Come on, be a good girl, show me.”

The more he talked, the more your body seemed to tremble from nerves. “I - I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lloyd.” He rolls his eyes at your attempt to play dumb. He wasn’t going to allow you to continue your charade of being so called innocent. “You really want to play that game? Fine, show me. Prove to me that you’re not soaked right now. Because you and I both know that your little pussy is dripping for me. Dripping for your step-daddy.” His words cause a small to leave your lips.

Maybe just this once you can give into your desires. Maybe just this once you can be bad.

Lloyd could hear a semblance of a plea when he watched you lay back on your bed. Your legs spread wide, inviting him to come give you both what you need. But Lloyd lets out a small tut and shakes his head. “Sorry, sunshine. That pussy isn’t what I’m interested in right now. I’d rather fuck your untouched hole. Turn around now.”

#vellicores writing event #lloyd hansen #step dad lloyd hansen #step dad!lloyd hansen #stepdad!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #lloyd hansen ficlet #lloyd hansen fic #lloyd hansen drabble #chris evans #the gray man

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pomefioredove · 14 days ago

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Cauldron of the Reborn: Escape from Black Castle

a fanwritten Halloween event

summary: when Malleus receives an invite from a distant relative to a historic castle in Briar Valley, he can't refuse characters: malleus, lilia, rook, epel, jamil, original character(!) additional info: reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

I hate everything I've written in the past month except for this series so this is what you're getting now. ENJOY MY TERRIBLE OC!!!

prologue / chapter one / chapter two

taglist: @whatever-fanfics @chloemari-e @frog-fans-unite @sugar-sprinkles

Forest Path - Morning

"I'm hungry!" Grim demands, paws on his hips.

He'd stopped walking in the middle of the crumbling cobblestone, facing the six as if they were a pack of ravenous wolves and he, a band of huntsmen.

...Though, it was more like the other way around.

"We've been walking for hours, and all I've had is seeds! I ain't a bird!"

You sigh, walking around Rook and Jamil to scoop the direbeast up. As soon as he's out of the path, their feet begin treading it again.

"We're almost there, Grim. And there's going to be a banquet, remember? You wouldn't want to spoil your appetite, would you?"

Grim pouts, grumbling something about mashed potatoes and chicken.

Lilia smiles. "He's quite the handful, isn't he?"

"He's two handfuls,"

"Khee hee. And yet you care for him anyway. How fortunate it is that you've found each other in this crazy world," the fae says. "Not everyone has such close friends."

He falls silent. He turns over his shoulder and looks at Malleus, pleasantly reading as he walks.

Lilia catches you looking, too, and smiles again. "He's had his head buried in that book of ancient carvings all day. Cymur is known for their beautiful inscribed stones,"

"This place is pretty old, huh?"

"Ancient. Though not isolated. It was once a powerful kingdom, an important ally to early Briar Valley. Of course, the days of trade and war are long over, and it's rather quiet here, now. Lots of sheep,"

You snort at that, and Lilia's smile softens. The soft pitter-patter of shoes against stone catches up to you, and Epel appears at your side.

"Oh? Come to join the conversation?"

The boy shakes his head, nods, and then- "No- I mean, yes. I wanted 'ta hear the rest of the story you were telling,"

That seems to spark some interest between the five of you (Malleus is still reading, quite contently), and Rook, then Jamil, both join you at your sides.

"I would also like to hear!"

"It would help pass the time, at least,"

Lilia laughs. "Oh, my, you remind me of children, asking for a bedtime story. But... I don't see why not. Let's see...

...Ah, yes. The Lich King, the cruel warlord, who sought to conquer Briar Valley, was powerful indeed- he could summon fire and lightning, disappear and reappear at will, some say he had even immortalized himself... but he was still not powerful enough to see through his plans. And so, he sought for a magical artifact, one so powerful it could raise an entire army."

"An artifact?" Jamil says. "Like something that could grant wishes?"

Epel shakes his head. "It has to be a weapon of some kind. A sword, or a spear!"

"Perhaps a powerful enchantment?" Rook chimes.

"Or a magic mirror?" you ask.

Lilia laughs again, amused by your childish interest and your ambitious guesses. "Khee hee... what imaginations you have! No, no. It was a cauldron,"

The four of you look between each other, and then: "A cauldron??"

"Like the kind you cook in?" Epel asks. "Or the ones Deuce's always dropping on people's heads?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of the ones we use in alchemy, but I share the disbelief," Jamil mutters.

"Khee hee. Technically, Epel's guess was most correct. It was just like one you would cook in!"

"...I don't get it," the boy mumbles.

"What's so special about a cauldron?"

"Ah, you see, it-"

"I recognize that stone," a quiet, yet leering voice calls out from behind your shoulder. You, Epel, and Jamil jump. Rook admires a beetle on the ground.

Lilia is picking his teeth. "Do you, Malleus?"

"Yes. It's in this book," the prince says, pointing towards a tall rock, jutting out of the earth at the precipice of a hill not too far ahead.

"The book says it marks the entrance to Black Castle...

...Which means, we've arrived,"

Black Castle - Bridge

"...Wow,"

Grim is the only one who speaks, and that's all he can say.

Black Castle (or what's left of it, really), sitting atop an island of black stone, casts its shadow over the seven, over the shallow, murky lake that surrounds it, and the dark woods and rolling plains beyond it. Despite its crumbling facade, its boarded holes and missing turrets and wind-whipped canvas cloth, it's massive.

"My," Lilia whistles. "Someone has certainly been keeping it well."

"It's almost as large as Castle Blackscale. Perhaps that's where it got its name?" Malleus asks.

The shorter fae clicks his tongue, and starts towards the thin stone bridge ahead. "Oh, no. This is much, much older than the capital, Malleus,"

The others (Grim still curled up in your arms, chewing the end of your uniform tie) follow him towards the imposing wooden gates ahead.

"There's no doorbell. Surely, no one will hear a knock through that," Jamil says. "We are on time, but-"

The gate responds with a sickeningly loud screech, opening its gaping maw, and the doors beyond.

"Well-guarded," Rook murmurs, an appreciative hand trailing down the wrought-iron case of the doors.

"...Yes, Black Castle was an important stronghold in many wars," Lilia goes in first.

Malleus follows. "Mm? Even-"

"No, not that," the fae says. "This place was already crumbling and decrepit in my youth, and supposedly abandoned. Though now, I see that's not right."

Black Castle - Hall

The rest stays close behind Lilia, as if hiding. None would admit it, but, with the exception of Rook, all were a little intimidated by the castle.

The interior is just as you would have imagined; dimly lit by sconces along the grimy stone walls, ancient tapestries hung along the drafty corridors, silver light from the lancet windows slivered across the floor...

Malleus and Lilia look right at home.

"You say it was abandoned?" Jamil asks, his tone steady, although he's practically clinging to your arm, diligently searching the halls for spiders.

"Oh, yes. Well, that's what we thought," Lilia says. "But it's not uncommon for fae to shack up in whatever old hovel they can find, khee hee."

"This is no hovel," Epel murmurs.

The six (and Grim) walk further into the cavernous castle. Aside from the torches and the rather well-kept state of it, there's no sign of life. Lilia seems rather unbothered by this, but Jamil's brow is knotted and his hands are tight around your forearm.

"Ah, here. Do you hear that?" Lilia asks. Malleus nods, though he's alone.

Epel raises an eyebrow. "Hear what?"

Lilia doesn't answer, rather, walking further, and then you hear what he was talking about- mingled with the scuff of shoes against the stone and the breaths of their peers, is the sound of music.

Malleus tilts his head up, a smile on his lips. "Smells like..."

"Roast lamb," Lilia finishes.

Grim perks up at the word "roast", wiggling out of your arms and scampering ahead on all fours. "I smell it, too! And sausages, and fish, and cheese, and cakes!"

"He can smell all that just from a whiff?" Jamil mutters.

Rook hums, leering over your other shoulder. "Non, he is right. I smell it, too,"

Lilia leads you around a corner, and another, and then to another pair of iron-bound doors, warm yellow light spilling from the cracks in the wood, the smell of food and the sound of merry music stronger than ever.

"A proper reception. How hospitable," Malleus smiles, admiring the engravings in the iron around the doors. "Shall we?"

Lilia nods, but before he can even lay a hand on the wood, the doors open from the inside. Light, the smell of meat, and the sound of harp and flute wash over you.

It takes but a moment to adjust to the starkly different atmosphere of the banquet hall. Its vaulted ceilings and wrought iron chandeliers, floating baubles of light, account for its size, a roaring fire in every corner, tables of food and drink of every palette across each long wooden table. Hooded servants in long black robes move in and out of one of the many doors, carrying silver trays of delicacies, tending to the fires, tidying up in chainmail gloves.

"You two are drooling," you mutter. Grim has stars in his eyes, and Epel isn't far off. Lilia chuckles.

Then, a voice, deep as the valley in which in the castle sits,

"Ah. My esteemed guests of Briar Valley," it says. You all turn to it, and atop a throne, raised high off the ground, is... a boy.

He stands.

If the staglike horns coming from the tousles of dark brown hair, rutilant in the warm light, atop his head and cascading down his shoulders weren't enough to stare at, when he stands, he becomes taller than anyone in the hall. He's pale, almost gaunt, and looks as if he has not slept for a millennia.

The shadow he casts over you is big enough to swallow you whole.

"I humbly welcome you to my home."

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #cauldron of the reborn #well anyway

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