#one of these days i’m gonna feel confident enough to try stained glass | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoodiewithhorns · 4 years ago

Text

━ using your safe word scenarios ★

characters : hajime iwaizumi, tetsuro kuroo, keiji akaashi.

there will be a part 2 & 3 coming soon!

edit : p.2 is out <3

m.sterlist + requests box

▲ cw : not proof read, angst, use of safeword, “red” used as the safeword, clit spanking, mean!doms, hurt/comfort, established relationship, forced orgasm, jealousy, oral m! receiving, facefucking, foreplay f! receiving, degradation, slight punishment if you squint, aftercare/reassurance , all characters are 18+, MDNI ▼

Kuroo

- you weren’t necessarily in a good mood to be fucked roughly by him

- you just wanted some soft passionate sex with kuroo

- You assumed he’d figure out what you wanted due to him knowing you better than yourself.

- But you were wrong..very wrong.

-Not wanting to disappoint your boyfriend you played along.

- biggest mistake.

〜 ☆

you bobbed your head on his cock while he groaned at the slow pace. you were taking your time today since you weren’t in the best mood to be shoving him down your throat. you thought he take this as a sign of you wanting things slow soft and sweet, instead he took this as a sign of you being bratty, a brat who deserves punishment in his eyes.

“you little brat.” he forcefully shoved his cock down your throat. You gagged in response feeling your eyes become glossy, tears promising to spill at any given minute, looking up at him with pleading eyes hoping he’d show some form of mercy. but of course, he didn’t. tightening the grip on your hair he moved you back and forth on his cock causing you to gag and your breathing becoming heavy.

you heart ached in your chest as you tried to push him off, but to no avail. a dark chuckle leaving his throat as he watched you struggle, a sight he would commonly enjoy. “such a bad girl today huh? maybe i should go find another goodgirl. one that’ll actually listen.” you tried to shake your head as fat tears streamed down your face, the thought of him replacing you being one your biggest fears. did he mean that? just cause you weren’t in a good mood he was gonna replace you? you thought to yourself noticing the grip he had on you loosened a little. you could move away now and so you did. pulling away from his cock trying to catch your breath only causing him to get angrier. “why are you being so bad today? why cant you be a goodgirl and-“

“Red!” you choked out a sob as more tears fell from your face staining the bed sheets beneath you. sitting up, your palms resting on your thighs as you sobbed. the room went silent with the only sound present being your soft cries alongside with your occasional sniffles. confused he lifted your chin up, you pathetically looked up at him like a helpless little puppy. he finally understood what was wrong, mumbling a few curses as he got closer to you, sitting you on his lap as you cried into his chest.

“easy now baby. i’m so sorry...” he whispered thanking whatever was above that he hadn’t lost you, feeling horrible for not picking up the obvious signs you weren’t in the mood for any of this.

“d-do you really wanna l-leave me?” your voice was hoarse from one getting your throat fucked and two crying. hugging you tighter and feeling nothing but regret. each cry you let out tugged at his heartstrings. he never wanted this how could he have been so blind? you were his little baby he wanted to protect every chance he got. now you were here. sobbing into his chest all because he didn’t realize you weren’t in the right mood today.

“never prettygirl. i’d be devastated without you in my life... I didn’t mean that I promise.” he pulled you away from his chest to face you. kissing the few tears you had left on you. even with tears pampered all over your face, to him you still managed to be pretty. even if it hurt him since he was the reason for all this, you could tell he was on the brink of tears too. he couldn’t imagine a life without you without his precious girlfriend in his life he’d be a train wreck.

“i-i...i just wanted us to go nice and gentle tonight..i didn’t have a good day today..but i didn’t want you to be mad since you like it when its rough so..”

he let out a chuckle at your last sentence causing you to look at him in confusion. “yeah being rough is nice and all but its only nice when you’re in the right mindset for it. you should’ve told me you weren’t feeling it tonight baby. If you wanna get fucked nice and gently by me you should’ve just said so my love.” he says planting a kiss on your forehead.

you smiled, reverting back to your previously cheery self making kuroo more than happy. he rested his head on top your shoulder “if you want, we can try again baby. this time i’ll give it to you nice and sweet..you’d like that wouldn’t you my pretty baby?” he whispers into your ear planting kisses down your neck as you let out a whimper feeling him smirk against your neck.

“mm-mhm please tetsu...”

he wastes no time wrapping his arms around your waist as your cunt feels him hardening again. “whatever my baby wants who am i to deny?”

akaashi

- the thought of using your safeword never occurred to you when you were with akaashi

- in fact he suggested it just in case things took a turn you didn’t like

- tonight was different though you were his innocent girlfriend who just wanted to treat him the way he treats you so lovingly

- wearing nothing but his shirt accompanied by a cute pair of panties feeling confident about your plan to please your boyfriend.

- though it doesn’t go according to plan,

you saw him sitting on the bed reading a novel still in his formal clothing. You were feeling particularly needy tonight learning a few new things you read from the internet a week ago on how to please your boyfriend sexually. you did however feel a bundle of nerves fill you up, but you just assumed it was because this was something you’ve never done before to anyone.

akaashi was not only your first, but he was your first boyfriend your first everything when it came to romance. now, putting all your insecurities aside, you were going to try out what you learned tonight on your beloved boyfriend!

walking towards him, you crawled on top of his lap, arms wrapped around his neck to pull him in for a sweet kiss. he smirked setting his book down on the nightstand while taking his glasses off as well.

“Can I help you pretty girl?” he questioned placing his hands on your hips. “oh nothing...i just want you tonight..is that okay?” you asked, your innocent voice making akaashi smile. you were just so cute and pure in his eyes. you jump in excitement ready to initiate your plan to please your boyfriend. you started kissing him slowly yet passionately, grinding your wet cunt against his slowly hardening cock through his pants.

he opened his eyes to clearly understand what you were doing. to his shock what he assumed was correct. His innocent girlfriend who had no knowledge on how to please her boyfriend grinding up against him. maybe you were just being extra needy? he told himself. not longer after he snapped back to reality as he felt you pull away from him only to kiss down his jaw leaving a trail of soft kisses.

His cheeks becoming red as your soft lips traced down to unbutton his shirt. “so handsome..” You said kissing his chest as you went down to his abdomen. he would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying this, but.... Your not gonna do what he thinks you are right?? his own girlfriend who was too shy who cried at the first attempt to sucking him off?? no he must be getting ahead of himself.

looking down once more to check up on you, he finds you unbuckling his pants letting his cock spring free. his mouth agape seeing your head already lick his precum nice and clean, pumping him a few times to get all his precum out. he shudders as your wet tongue touches his cock, giving him kitten licks here and there. taking a deep breath, shoving him down your throat all in one go, a small gag escaping from you, squeezing your eyes tightly trying your best not to cry.

humming, you bobbing back and forth making him grunt at the waves of pleasure you were giving him. Still, he felt uneasy. who taught you this?? he was always the one guiding you, teaching you how to do things yet here you were sucking him down your pretty little throat. head thrown back his groans mixed with his thoughts, he kept overthinking the reasons as to how you picked up on this.

did Bokuto teach you?? you two always got along so well..sometimes leaving akaashi to third wheel, but why was he thinking about that now??

“shit..” he grunted as he felt his high approaching. He tried to pull your head back so he wouldn’t end up cumming in your mouth, but you stayed on his cock till he came.

smiling at him, you licked your lips, swallowing his cum. leaving him surprised at everything you’ve just done. you’ve never did any of this nor tried to. It hurt the first time you tried to give him head now here you are taking him down your throat? He couldn’t believe it.

he wanted to get to the bottomed of this quickly.

“dirty girl.” he spits out flipping you to the other side of the bed, pushing your head down to the pillow putting your ass up with your cunt in full display for him. you winced at the sudden aggressive force.

“who taught you all those things you little slut?”hooking his finger onto your soaked panties to push them aside, he shoved two fingers deep inside of your dripping hole making you whimper at the painful stretch, not giving you enough time to adjust as he pumped into you.

“k-keiji w-wait!!” you whined screwing your eyes shut to fight back your tears, while he started pumping his fingers at an inhuman pace, he hovered over you, your back to his chest while his head rested on your shoulder.

“i asked you a question, so I expect an answer.” his voice was cold and stern without a sound of love or worry. the stretch of his fingers were painful especially with how he was practically scissoring you open. your eyes rolled at to the back of your head feeling your climax approaching, but it hurt so much you weren’t used to such a rough pace.

akaashi always took his time with you. Going slow and easy, praising you, calling you his angel or goodgirl for taking him in so well. but now he was none of these things.this felt like a completely different person to what you were use to.

“mm’ n-no one! keiji- p-please s-slow down it hurts!!” you sobbed only making him click his tongue at you, your heart sank feeling foggy and uneasy.“you probably like that it hurts huh? you’re dripping around my fingers you filthy slut.” he never used a tone as harsh as this before. never calling you names or degrading you in general. the pain in your chest overlapping the pleasure as more tears fall.

“n-no not a s-slut!! p-please stop! it hurts please keiji please-“ you begged feeling your stomach tighten as he kept fingering you till you screamed, squirting all over the bed sheets. “dirty slut.” He pulled out abruptly from you causing you to choke out another sob. your body trembling at this point as you pant out in desperation to form words scared of what he might do next. “N-no more please I’ll be good i p-promise just please..” you begged him once again, hoping he’d notice the pain you were in...he didn’t.

“no. sluts like you don’t get to make decisions like that.” He was about to pull your shirt off until you screamed and kicked “red! red! r-red!!” he moved away only to watch you curl in on yourself, hugging your knees for comfort, refusing to look him in the eyes. “baby..?” he said softly trying to move you to face him to his horror you flinched shrinking in on yourself.

“keiji... why were you s-so...mean to me i only wanted to make you feel good..you always make me feel good so why did you..” immediately, he scooped you into his arms rocking you back and forth as if you were a toddler. you cuddled up against his chest as he felt your tears fall on his chest.he didn’t mind of course. “shh its okay..its okay..” the voice he commonly spoke to you coming back, soft, reassuring, just how you liked it.

“baby..im sorry i.. I didn’t mean to be so mean..i just got scared you were maybe..well someone might’ve been teaching you these things..” you froze pulling away to look at him.

“w-what? I didn’t learn that from anyone..id never let anyone teach me or touch me but you keiji! i just..read some stuff about it online...and I wanted to test it out..” you admitted through sniffles still rubbing your tears away. He sighed as he hugged you again running his fingers through your hair.

all you wanted was to please your boyfriend from just that, his heart skipped a beat at how sweet you were being, but the feeling was overshadowed by feeling so stupid for letting his insecurities take the best of him.

“I’m sorry baby.. I promise to never speak to you like that ever again..you’re my sweet girl and I love you so so much.. you were just trying to do something nice for me..thank you i appreciate it my love..it felt really nice you did good.” He cupped your face in his hands, peppering soft kisses around your face.

he smiled as you giggled at the ticklish feeling, sighing in relief.

“ i love you, my sweetgirl. ”

Iwaizumi

- he got home pissed off since he saw you chatting and giggling with mattsun.

- he needed to blow off some steam

- he didn’t mean to be so mean he really didn’t

-he was usually a soft dom but today..he was everything but soft to you.

“ filthy fucking whore. what were you doing talking to mattsun huh?” his thrusts were sharp, painful, not being prepped well enough by him making the stretch of his cock burn through your gummy walls. feeling the air in your lungs start to leave you slowly as tears streamed down your face at iwaizumis cold , heartless, tone. there was not a single trace of him, not a sign of his love. you weren't trying to make him jealous, you just spend sometime to get to know mattsun just a little more since he was friends with your boyfriend never expecting him to react like this.

snapping back to your current situation, you arched your back letting out a loud cry as he slapped your puffy clit. “didn’t i ask you a fucking question? or did your dumb slutty brain already get fucked out of you huh?” he wrapped his hands around your throat thrusting harder and deeper in you.

his tip painfully hitting your cervix with each thrust making you cry at the pain. you tried pushing him off with the little strength you had in you, sobbing out an apology making him roll his eyes.

“tch, what? you think a little apology is gonna change the fact you were all “buddy buddy” with mattsun? did you forget who fucking owns you little slut?” landing another harsh slap at your clit causing you cry in discomfort. everything around you made you feel light as if you were gonna pass out from the cruel words iwaizumi spoke to you. feeling helpless as there was no sign of your once loving boyfriend.

“maybe i should’ve invited him over, let him have a turn at ruining your slutty little cunt.”

Finally, having enough you cried out “r-red..” it was soft, gentle, easily could’ve been unheard if it wasn’t for how closely iwaizumi payed attention to you. he halted his thrusts pulling out of you completely, eyes draining of all lust and jealousy converting to concern mixed with regret. he rushed to put back his boxers on, cuddling you against his chest.

you didn’t push him away, no you could never. he was the man you loved and treasured more than anything. you were hurt obviously, but still wanted to seek his comfort.

“i-i dont like m-mattsun haji..i only like you..only you..” your voice sounding broken. he let out a deep sigh pulling you closer to kiss your head.

“i know baby i know... i was just jealous..you get along so well with mattsun i..went too far on you..i’m sorry you didn’t deserve that baby” his voice sounding faint but full of comfort.

“i just wanted to get t-to know him...i didn’t mean to make you mad haji..”

“i know baby shhh its okay now..i’m not mad anymore.”he cooed kissing you softly. you nodded letting your last set of tears fall onto his chest.

slowly shutting your eyes and falling asleep in the warmth of his chest.

him on the other hand was completely mortified at your sobbing accompanied with your sniffles it echoed through his ears replaying like a broken record each time the memory got to you saying your safeword.

“r-red..”

he never thought he’d reach that point for you to have to tell him that. he let out a few tears that night hating himself for hurting you. you forgave that very second he apologized but him on the other hand? he didn't..no he couldn’t.

let’s just say, he didn't get much sleep that weekend.

akaashis is long asf (im sorry i just love him sm) and iwaiuzmis is short but i love these boys sm.

i still am taking requests all links are above and down here. remember to drink water. oh and heres the m.sterlist in case you missed it <3♡

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yanderenightmare · 4 years ago

Note

bitchy bratty catty pretty-girl who gives fuck-all, the school tries to straighten her ways by introducing her to a temporary captured shiggy, who is soooo fucking pissed off at this smug pretty bitch, going to track her down and make her pay!!!! >-< plez Mizz Nightmare

yandere kidnapper ! SHIGARAKI TOMURA

TIP-JAR

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, dubcon/noncon, abuse, profanity, bullying, anxiety, drugging, kidnapping, abduction

CUTTHROAT

“Wow! Right for the kill?! You’re real cutthroat.”

She wasn’t really surprised to hear that they’d caught him, and unlike many others she wasn’t surprised to hear that they’d be holding him on campus. She had full confidence in both the faculty, the promising Hero-course students, and UA’s security system, knowing damn well it could serve well as a prison not just for the students who went there, such as herself, but for the leader of the League of Villains as well.

To say she felt safe as she walked with Aizawa to meet him would be an understatement. She knew why the teacher had been tasked with taking her there, the intention being to scare her, give her a picture of what scum she would become if she continued down the path of fuck-all she was currently on. But, even though she wanted to rebel against taking any orders, she was feeling something far more superior than the will to fight back, something that trumped safety and laid waste to fear, she was feeling thrill.

This would be a means to an end, a cure for boredom as well as a way to show once and for all that she was a hopeless cause, maybe then these obsessive heroes would leave her the fuck alone already.

“Wow, you’re really ugly! I mean, they warned me you were, but I could never’ve imagined it’d be this bad!”

She was jeering laughs at the lanky figure who towered over her, his hand wrapped tightly around her throat and his eyes spiraling in disbelief in process of understanding why what was found beneath his fingertips wasn’t turning to ash.

“Aren’t bad guys supposed to be sexy?” Her idiotic rambling only succeeded in confusing him more as she shrugged his seemingly useless normal hand away, walking to sit down on the floor, knowing it would be a while until Aizawa let her out again. “You know, to seduce and lure people into their ranks?” She looked over the meal tray he’d flipped out of her hand before seizing her throat, nothing sharp, no cutlery, no broken glass, just one measly apple. “I’m guessing you’re not in charge of recruiting. I mean… who would ever want to follow your ugly mug?”

She watched in anticipation of what remark he’d hurl her way. She’d heard he was bratty, she’d heard he was the one who could set her straight, divert her from this collision-course she’d set herself out on. Yet, his response was more than disappointing, not at all the tornado of a tantrum she had been preparing for. “You talk too much.” He didn’t even sound at all any provoked by her words, dismissing her as he slowly made to pick up the apple from the ground, checking to see if it was his quirk that was gone or if there was something else afoot, finding his answer in the ashes of the fruit.

“Come on.” She drawled, crossing her legs beneath her, keen eyes looking at him as he too sat back down to lean against the wall, looking only a fair bit of annoyed with her presence, as though she were a stain on his shirt, an inconvenience of some sorts. “You were gonna kill me!” She laughed, his red scrutinizing orbs looking to her with a sneer. “Without a thought, in cold blood, no remorse, even after I gave you food like the mutt you are, the least I can do is spit in your face!”

He didn’t answer. Eyes still set on her where she sat planted without a single care, annoyed with how comfortable she looked, as though she were in her element, as though she was winning some sort of game, a game that wasn’t even about him as her eyes flittered to the black-glass of the window every now and again.

She clicked her tongue, beginning a new ramble. “Tell me, Shiggy.” She smiled, eyes wicked and gleaming and untamed. “That quirk of yours…”

She might have phrased it all like a question, but Shigaraki could hear it plain and simple, how her one goal was to mock him, poke at him until he burst, and not even for the sake of watching him burst, but for the sake of proving to whomever was on the other side of that glass that they couldn’t tame her. He didn’t need to know her entire story to see that much, how he was being used as a pawn to convert some meaningless pretty-girl.

“Can you control it? Or does everything you touch turn to ash no matter your desire?” It wouldn’t have been out of place if she’d licked her lips with how dripping with venom her words were. “It’s like the Midas touch, isn’t it?”

Her poetic phrasing of his deadly quirk had his eyes narrowing, but he hadn’t much time to think her wording over before she began a new escapade.

“Have you ever fucked anyone, Shiggy?” She didn’t even look at him as she asked, alerting him of what he already knew, how she had no interest in his answer, only his reaction, and the reaction his reaction would beckon from the people in the other room.

She was trying to rile him up, prove how vicious she could be, prove how she hadn’t a single fuck to give.

“I bet you’ve never truly touched anyone. How could you? I mean, first…” She laid down on her back with a careless roll, looking to the ceiling, ignoring him if it weren’t for the fact she was talking to him, or about him, or at him. “Who would ever want to fuck you? All those wrinkles and all those scars. You look like the onset of death.” She giggled, and he watched her tits bounce as though they were laughing at him too. “I cannot imagine anyone willingly wanting whatever you have to offer. And even if you force it on them, you’d be bound to fuck up with how much they’d struggle.” You’d think she carried a vendetta toward him, with how personal her attacks were, yet it was all given away with how little she was paying attention to him, as though she’d judged already whatever it was she found interesting and was now done with him. All she remained focused on was creating a show, to see how far she could take it before anyone came in to stop her, how much she could poke until something snapped, how much she could bend until something broke. “Just one slip of the hand and you’re left with your dick only halfway wet in a pile of dust.”

He didn’t know if she knew how correct her imagery was, he guessed she didn’t, he wanted to believe she’d show a bit more restraint then, a bit more unease, more respect. She acted as though she wasn’t trapped in a box with a notorious villain, seemingly unaware of her own stature as well as his. She was nothing but a school-girl and yet she felt comfortable enough in her safety to be lying on her back, flinging insult at the person she was locked in with.

“I don’t see how it could bother you for too long though.” Again, she had him intrigued. “I mean… pretty stupid bitches who’re only worth one fuck anyway can’t really be counted as a loss, can it?”

It was clear she didn’t view herself as one of said pretty stupid bitches, even though a pretty stupid bitch is exactly what she looked like in Shigaraki’s eyes. Perhaps that was her point exactly.

“Have you ever dusted someone who did count as a loss?” She rolled over, head propped up on her elbows, laying in her palms, her feet kicking the air behind her. “You ever fuck up so bad? Committed an irredeemable act? Something so unforgivable even you can’t forgive yourself?” Her eyes were set on him again now. “Do you think about it every day?” Her tone shifted then, to something sadistically sweet. “Does it hurt just as much now as it did then?” Her face split into a grin, eyes ablaze as she observed, searched for a breach in his composure. “What happened to mommy and daddy, Shiggy.” She singsonged, toying with him. “Were they your first victims? Did you cry? Do you still cry? Or did they deserve it?”

Her look was earnest, salacious until she rolled her eyes in boredom at his lack of response.

Sighing, she calmed back down, briefly. “I get it… You don’t want to play with me ‘cause you don’t think I’m a worthy player.” She scoffed as she looked to the side with a melodramatic drag. “You should check yourself. We keep you in a cage, give you food, have you on a leash and collar. You’re nothing but our pet!”

She giggled again, biting her tongue, gnawing on it between the rows of her teeth with her mouth open in a wide smile.

“You know… My quirk is called immunity, but it should really be called repellent.” She looked at her hands then, now kneeling in front of him. Her gaze split like lightning, snapping to look at him again, a catlike smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. “You and I aren’t that different, are we?” It looked for a second as though she were about to stand up, but the movement fell short as she instead gave way to crawl closer to him, one elegant arm followed by the other, all with the grace of a huntress, a panther easing in for the kill. “In fact… I think I’d go as far and say we’re the exact same…” His eyes didn’t deceive him, this time she did lick her lips, only now her words weren’t dripping with venom, but with some other sickly-sweet nectar. “’Cause…where I never let anyone come close, you let ‘em come close… only for them to die!”

“That’s enough.” He must have closed his eyes the second he felt her breath fan over his face, because he’d missed the time the erasure hero had walked in. “This was a waste of time.” The dark-haired man groaned, disappointed.

“Aw, really?”

She wasn’t in front of him anymore, to his surprising disappointment, though her sweet smell still lingered about him pleasantly.

“And I was just getting to the fun part…” She walked to the threshold of the cell-door, not once indicating she’d turn around and take one final look at him. “Well, anyway… tootles, pet.”

Even as she insulted him, she did it twice over by not returning his gaze.

She was still sleeping, she noted as her mind, though still groggy and drowsed out, became lucid enough to start thinking. She was sleeping, yet the sleep felt unsafe, as though her alarm was bound to go off any second, firmly shaking her awake and telling her time was running out for her to get to school. And if she’d slept through the alarm, a teacher was soon to come fetch her. Yet, for now she remained halfway asleep, waiting for an alarm or a knock on the door unknowing of how it would never arrive.

He wasn’t sure if it was the drug that had perhaps made some of her senses dull under the impression, for… surely she should feel that her mouth was stuffed full and made to suck on a rag, surely she should feel that her wrists were tied together behind her back, and how her thighs and legs were secured together in a frog tie, the rough rope, scratchy in texture, and how it scraped against her soft doughy skin. Perhaps he didn’t tie them tight enough. It was hard to get a good grip without accidentally dusting the ropes, but he knew the struggle was worth it, seeing her now, in all her defenseless vulnerable rightful glory.

“Not so tough now…” He taunted at her small sleeping frame. Even with her clothes still on, he knew her naked body was only a mere touch away from him. How he could spread her open without her being able to kick, only wiggle for him, like a worm on a hook. No… that imagery is too ugly to be describing her, when she’s so far from ugly. She’s more like a butterfly trapped on a pin, wings fluttering hopelessly, reduced to nothing but beauty, nothing but a little doll for him to play with, tamper and poke fun at just like how she’d done back when he was captured at UA.

He decided pro putting the blindfold on her, perhaps the product of her bullying him in the cell, her jabs at his appearance subconsciously having gotten to him despite himself wanting to dust them off like he did with everything else. Her comments were sharp, and seemed to have the same type of immunity her body had, where his ego, much like himself, hadn’t the thickest of skin. Besides, she was… so painfully out of his league.

It hardly mattered though, now that he would regain all the control.

She laid on her stomach, face mushed against the mattress. He’d removed the pillows and comforter so she’d be placed like a centerpiece on his little operating table. She looked so harmless now, so sweet, especially tied up the way she was, and with those whimpering moans that were simmering to the surface, breaching her sleep, escorted by her wiggling, her delicious tempting little wiggling, begging for Shigaraki to come introduce himself, now with the turned tables.

“Did you really think I was just gonna let it slide?” Her wiggles came to an abrupt holt, breath caught in her throat, making her choke out a curt gasp through the thickness of her makeshift gag. “Did you think you were safe? Like you were simply spitting on a grave. No ghosts coming to haunt you.” She panicked once she felt the bed dip, four fingers sharp in their venture, sweeping up her back, settling around her neck, drawing out painful sudden studded goosebumps, spreading across her skin like wildfire in a field. “Silly little slut.” She squealed at the feel of his warm breath on her cheek, unable to move away, her head halfway buried in the soft mattress, teeth sinking into the cloth in her mouth when his tongue, wet with drool, large and flat, dragged up her already teary cheek. “Boo.”

Her ears were burning, so much blood gushing and rushing and pooling in her head like a storm, she barely registered him drawing back with that maniacal giggle, where with as trademark as it were, there was no doubt where she was or who she was with. Yet, she hadn’t the time to think about it, she hadn’t the time to regret or answer questions she hadn’t even the time to ask, because as her mind was cooking up chaotic whirlwinds of fear, crippling fear despite being crippled enough already, brutal fear that her gut feeling like acid festering and mind reeling in on itself in such vehemence she felt she might just faint, give out like a light in a blizzard, she was given no time before he was talking again, pushing her even further out on the edge she found herself, stepping on her fingers one by one, with no mercy as she dangled above jagged rock that were sure to spear her like an arrow through a dove.

“You were wrong, you know.” She felt his hands trace a careful set of four fingers down the fabric of her shirt, rubbing into her spine, further pushing the breath from out of her lungs. “I’ve fucked before.” He spoke casually, though peppered in between the notes of nonchalance was found the spiked flavors of spiteful mockery, like the mean girl on campus, like how she usually talks, like how she had spoken to him. “But, what I haven’t done is played with someone’s body the way I’m gonna play with yours.” He listened to her whimper, sobs surely to soon wrack through her body, uncontrollably and thoroughly, making her gasp and choke on nothing but air and fear. “I mean, it’s only fair.” She heard the shrug in his voice, that sarcastic sigh and lightheartedness. “You fuck with me, I fuck with you.” This time he growled and she swore she would piss herself with how scared she was.

He was going to kill her, she knew it, she could feel it crawling up and down her body as though mites were hidden in her clothes. She already sensed him peeling off her skin, flaying her with her screaming. And in those seconds, those hopeless seconds, she wished for death, for it to be quick, painless, like simply snuffing out a light. She nearly prayed, squeezing her eyes shut to pray to that God or Devil she never believed in, never needed as badly as she needed them now. She wished for her heart to give out, for the right vein to pop, for a lung to collapse, anything, just for her to be dead before he had the mind to torture her to death.

“Does that sound fun, pet.” And there she broke, waterworks in full effect, no longer simple silent tears but something that had built under pressure like boiling pot of water, bubbling, soon to be blubbering incoherent sobs out into her gag, all to his vengeful amusement.

He watched her for a moment, one longer than he’d probably intended, despite not having view of her eyes, watching the blindfold wet as her eyes leaked at the complete overwhelming loss of hope, lips sucking on the gag those tears that managed to escape and run down to salt her lips.

“So pretty, aren’t you?” He accused, giving her barefoot a squeeze, making her wiggle with what mobility the bonds allowed her, looking handicapped, as though he’d disintegrated both her arms and legs when he’d simply tied them up where they would be stored safely and out of the way until he deemed it okay for her to use them again, where until then… she’d remain his little immobile toy. “Pretty little girl, all tied up.” He giggled, both amused and pleased, leaning down to tug those locks of hair that had curtained her face behind her ear, making the thin wisps at the back of her neck bristle in alarm. “All alone with the big bad ugly villain.” He bit it out with a smirk, and she swore she felt venom drop where he spit the words on her face. “Pretty girl… dressed in such pretty things.” He mused, tugging on the fabric of her silk pajama shirt, his other hand stroking a thumb over himself and his caged member, the beast behind the boxer, the one she was still so completely unaware of. “To hide her rotten core.”

He snickered some more at the notice of how ticklish she was, or perhaps it wasn’t as much a reflex but rather a violent display of her fear, how she kicked, or tried to kick her legs, once his hand with its lanky slender fingers danced a pattern on the sole of her foot.

“They won’t be of much help to you now…”

It’s was a cute display, seeing her struggle in an attempt to swat away his spidering hand, endearing, had him drooling he realized, but didn’t bother to wipe his chin, instead giving into the urge he had to touch what was so temptingly sprawled out before him.

“I bet you think of these as your armor, don’t you?”

All five of his fingers touched down on her shirt, and soon there was no shirt left to separate his dry course fingers from her warm skin. He nearly let out a gasp as he watched how she stayed in place, having not become a pyramid of ash. Her beautiful body still right there, warm glowing skin still touchable, more touchable than anything else.

“Keeping you safe from prying eyes and hands… Not my hands though.”

He could excuse how he hesitated on the fact of him wanting to enjoy himself, wretchedly and thoroughly, gorging in every moment he was gonna make her scream, but… he knew that wasn’t the reason… he was… and he hated to admit it, but… nervous. He had this gorgeous creature trapped and under his thumb and he was nervous? No matter how terrified she was and immobilized it was like she still had the power, just like she had in that prison cell.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that he’d thought about her everyday he was trapped in there. She had said she would see him later yet she never once, not once, came a second time. Why would she lie? Just to fuck with him some more? One last and lasting punch in the face? He had dreamed of it. How many times had he fantasized about doing every possible nasty thing in the book to her, teach her a lesson, make her beg, make her kneel, make her bow before him? But now, having her right there, this frail little girl who wouldn’t have the strength to fight him even without the tight rope holding her down, this little girl who despite being just that had him enthralled for months, still just as hellbent, enslaved, spellbound to make her pay… but that wasn’t it either… making her pay was only half of it, maybe even less… what he wanted, what he truly wanted, was to prove to her that he could have her wrapped around his finger despite being what ugly freak she’d made him out to be, that despite being ugly, he could have a pretty-girl like her melting.

He gave fully into his wishes then, her shorts gone with a touch, leaving her in a precious pair of cotton boxers. A sigh of reverence left him, a shudder running through him. He was expecting red lace or something exotic, something vain and narcissistic meant to enhance or simply show off just how pretty she was. He figured that was what she’d dress in, something sexy, because she had the full body that one believes go hand in hand with hot lingerie, yet… she’d chosen comfort. And why wouldn’t she? When she could make it look like the hottest item his eyes ever had the privilege of seeing.

“Fuck…” He drawled, now with a wanton whine, his hand giving himself a squeeze as his cock was beginning to strain uncomfortably inside the confines of his boxers. “Just look at you…”

He only barely dared touch her, not just out of fear of her disappearing like anything else would, but because he didn’t at all feel as though he had the right to put his hands on something so beautiful.

“You shouldn’t be allowed to wear clothes.” He stated, still in awe. “Not when they cover up this perfect body.”

She screamed into her gag as he grabbed around her waist, pulling her pliable little body up into a kneeling position, then pulling and arranging some further to have her in the same position, just over his slap this time, with his bulging cock rubbing through the fabric of his briefs up into her still clothed sex, though with both cloths a thin material she felt the abrasive ticklish friction begin to stir something in her lower abdomen despite her fear and no regard to her disgust. And now, provided with the full view of her delectable little frame, her precious tits sprung free and strutting towards him with how her arms were bent in their confinement behind her back, and perky by both the cold wind of his breath and the goosebump-giving anxiety, leveled with his face, looking eager to receive his mouth, perfect nipples for him to suck on, gnaw between the rows of his teeth.

“These perfect tits…” He licked his lips, hands kneading one mound greedily as the other held her steady. “And this…” He placed all five fingers on the fabric of her panties, turning them to ash, all five staying to touch the delicate skin of her sex, feeling her quake, such a good replacement to feeling someone disintegrate. He groaned out a curse, body sagging, slouching at the sight of her exposed bare little private, he hunched over in awe as he ran his fingers through to disappear in the slit of her precious pussy. “This perfect little pussy.”

She wiggled on his digits with a squealing whimpering sob, so alive and warm and soft he could cry with how safe he was beginning to feel, without the fear of touching just a bit too much getting in the way. Although he was feeling the slight sensation of inferiority in the light of her perfection, or maybe even because of it, he decided he’d give a little scare, perhaps as a means of tipping or evening the scales.

“You know, pretty girl…” His other hand, the one not currently preoccupied with cupping her pussy, brutally brazen for the first time, spread its fingers to stroke the dome of her ass, before curling like claws to grab a fist-full of the ample flesh, making her jump and lose balance, resulting in falling flush against his chest all with a muffled cry. Her face mushed against his collar, her wet reddened nose painting tears onto his throat, such a strange type of comfort against his scars. “I’ve never slapped anyone?” He could feel her heartbeat and how it hammered like a race-horse on the track. “Or, no, I’ve slapped plenty, but a slap from me means death, usually.” His hand ascended, wrapping around her throat, all five fingers with hungry-pressured fingertips, guiding her back off his chest to sit properly, though leaning to bite her earlobe, all to feel her rub down on his aching cock some more. “But I slap you and it means pretty marks and pretty screams, doesn’t it?”

He laughed, knowing full well that he wasn’t going to hurt her, or at least not as badly as he had given reason to think.

“Such a fucking pretty girl, aren’t you?” He trailed a path of wet open-mouthed kisses down her neck and between her breasts, gripping her waist as she recoiled back. “With pretty tits.” Breath labored, or hefty with greed and desire. “Pretty girl with a pretty pussy.” He squeezed her sides, as though getting ready to make a ragdoll of her again, pulling her into the desired position. “Let me taste you.”

Her heart hammered like a hammer hitting an anvil, as she was placed on her back, hands crushed beneath her, uncomfortably wrenching in their bonds. Her mind, stuck in its prospect, hadn’t pieced it together, despite having been stripped naked, she still hadn’t given it a thought, hadn’t dared give it a thought, but his comment made the realization coat thickly, drape her and the pressure seemed too much for her mind to take, plummeting into a free-fall. He wasn’t just going to kill her, he was going to rape her first.

Thighs easily pried open for him to settle in between, scooting back on the bed so he could lie down, lower half humping the mattress desperately, imagining having her wrapped around him, but all in good time. She shook more than writhed, seizurely beneath him, with her blushed pussy a beautiful slit so ripe for the taking, quivering at the warming breath he whispered upon the tender flesh. With his hands wrapped around each their ankle he pushed her thighs and legs up and out of the way as to not have her knee him in the head while he feasted.

He listened to her struggling to breathe, her stomach rising and falling sporadically with her sobs, untuned and painful and begging for any kindness he had to spare, he was going to give her exactly that. Kindness.

His chapped lips felt so good it was cruel, abrasive and inescapably delicious, welcomed yet unwelcome by the bucking of her hips as she squealed into her gag, falling prey to more and more hopelessness. His tongue came second, warm and wet and long and strong, sliding in between her folds only to swipe up and flick off at her clit, forcing a shudder to run all the way through her core into the tips of her toes, mind reeling.

“So cute.” He noted the sensitivity with a mocking jeer, the sound simmering on her skin. “I bet a pretty girl like you’ve never been fucked by a guy like me before.” Then his teeth were the ones to make an impact, grazing over her budding clit with how it reached out in search for stimulation, having its wish granted in such a sense forcing her toes to curl. “Come on my ugly face, pretty-girl.” She really couldn’t resist with how his words were tickling on that sensitive spot, and how intent on finding and following that spot that had her coming on done and abusing it, playing with it with his tongue and chapped lips, switching between such smooth soft yet forceful pressure and bristled rough chaffed contact, making her spasm, wanting so desperately to tug her arms loose to push his incessant face off, because she wouldn’t be able to resist it, she was going to come and make an humiliating mess on his tongue just like he wanted, the knot was going to snap and she would be screaming from the force of it.

He smirked with the taste of her essence on his tongue, giving her a couple more torturous kitty-licks that had her brutally recoiling by the oversensitivity he was abusing. It served well as an ego-boost as he was suddenly feeling the urge to take her blindfold off, make her gaze upon who had her wrapped around his finger. What more, he wanted to remove her gag, hear what she had to say to defend herself, what pathetic please she would come with to try and prevent him from going any further.

His mouth sloshed its way up her stomach, hands touching and grabbing and groping with greedy fingers onto anything and everything they got ahold of, feeling up her smooth skin and soft flesh, before having made their way to grab at the blindfold. Her eyes were petrified, blinking rapidly, especially every time his clothed cock bumped into her bare pussy, leaving strings of spit and fine silken cum to hang from between where she parted with the cotton of his pants.

She was thoroughly out of it, delirious, fear-ridden and numbed with pleasure, cotton yet swivel-eyed as he fought to be her focus. He pulled the gag out of her mouth too, wiping his chin before turning the fabric to ash, eyes looking her over all the while.

His tongue rolled over his lips. “Such a pretty face.” He gathered her face between his fingers, blunt fingertips pushing into squishy bloated cheeks. “Even prettier with those tears you fucking crybaby.” It will never get old, the feeling of nothing happening still under all his five fingers. “Even better with my handprint, don’t you think?” It was funny how she didn’t seem to pick up anything of what he was saying. “Or covered in my cum.” Her brows had scrunched so hopelessly close together, whimpers upon sniffles and whiny mewling and hiccupping panting, so pathetic and precious. “So fucking pretty.” He groaned, giving his lips a second wetting with his tongue. “Kiss me, pretty-girl.” He scrunched her lips together some more, leaving her incapable of refusing.

She tasted herself on his tongue, choking on the sweetness as he forced it like a slug down her throat. Her own tongue submissive in nature, staying beneath and out of the way of his. It was a series varying from needy whimpering moans and growls that followed from his throat, poured into her receiving mouth, giving nothing but weak whines in return. His one free hand, the other one still holding a firm grip onto her chin and cheeks, continued in its hungry exploration, grabbing with an almost childlike curious freedom, leaving painful marks in their wake, having her yelp against his willful lips, which smirk grew upon every inch of reaction she fed him, until pulling away in a haze, panting, with a new little wish he was going to have her be the star of.

“Let me fuck that pretty face.”

She hadn’t the time, nor the mind, to form any protest, reduced to mere whimpering as he pulled her back into a kneeling position, conjoined thighs and legs folded beneath and supporting her ass, still with her arms tied snuggly and unbudgingly behind her back, made to watch him fiddle with the band to his sweats, pulling them below his hips and falling to his thighs, displaying his surprisingly clean boxers and not so surprising hardness. Cock throbbing within its confines, fighting desperately to come free. His hand pulling his boxers down and, cock springing loose, slapping against his abdomen, standing long and hard, tip blushed red and angry, a bead of pre-cum spilling sweetly from his slit.

“Open up, lick it up.”

She’d been lost in taking in the sheer size of him, girth thick and threatening, looking bigger than what she could wrap her hand around, her stomach twisting in tension and unease. Too caught up in imagine it ripping her apart than realizing how he was going to fit it into her mouth first.

Her eyes widened upon the thought, lips slightly apart in horror, bottom-lip quivering. “Come on, pretty-girl.” One hand tugged on his shaft, the other gripped her face, protruding nails to sink into her jaw, prying her mouth father apart to accommodate his size.

She whined at the taste of him, arms struggling behind her back, knees shuffling wider apart to support herself as he pushed on further, fingernails still digging into her soft cheeks, making her lips pucker into a soft welcoming oval. He liked the way her brows furrowed into that beautiful look of plead that had his balls aching where they hung, soon to be pressed up against her soft skin, smothering her chin. He also enjoyed how her whimpers had turned to delicious little vibrations of his cock, drumming alongside his length, such pretty friction.

“Come on, take all of me.” He licked his lips as he urged, other hand coming to caress the back of her skull, gathering her pretty locks between his fingers, abandoning all regard to how she should be turning to nothing but dust molecules instead of being a nice warm soft wet pleasure hole for him. His usually small scrutinizing scarlet eyes turning moon-wide with lustful frenzy. Voice ragged as he clawed at her scalp to obey him, no thought to her whining in protest. “You can do better.” His tip met with the back of her throat and her whine turned more desperate, nearly a scream, but he couldn’t care, not with the memory of her talking to him like he was some pussy-bitch, he was going to show her who the bitch and who the boss was. “Such a pretty little thing with such a nasty filthy ugly fucking mouth.” He spit through grit teeth, begging to fuck the back of her throat, having her gagging on him, hopeless in search for breath. “A mouth like that is only good for one thing.” He gave a few more painfully deep ruts, having her eyes roll back at the loss of breath, before ripping loose again. “Same goes for that pussy.”

“No, no.” She scrambled on the bed, trying to get away, trying to rip free, so hopeless he should have felt bad, but couldn’t bring himself to the feeling as he sat there and laughed, eyes wild, dick prospering, hand pumping his length to the sight of her.

He followed her pathetic struggling little shame, climbing on top of her. The panic swallowed her again, forcing a overwhelmed rush of sobs to come spluttering and blubbering and screaming from her little shape caught beneath him. “Such a little slut.” His fingers were at once groping her pussy, diving between her folds to rub her slit and clit. “Still so wet, are you excited?” She turned her head away as she struggled, eyes squeezed shut. “Aw, pretending it’s not me.” He snickered. “Good luck.”

Offended, he decided against making it pleasant for her, thinking she deserved as little sympathy from him as she had showed him, but his brutal actions slowed at the feel of the pressure around his finger when he’d pushed it inside her.

“So tight.” He stated, shocked as he tried swirling the digit inside, to feel the walls giving little wiggle-room to do so. She winced as he hooked, a heavy breathy shrill type of wince, as though he was pulling a knife from her gut.

He left the finger there, much to her discomfort.

“That comment…” He started, working her tightness as much as he could, still with only one finger. “When we first met.” His other hand gathered her face again, forcing her to look at him as he leaned down, resting his forehead on hers, wanting to see those eyes as he got confirmation on his suspicion. “You said you push people away… that you were a… repellant.” Her breathing hitched as she sniveled like a little girl who scraped her knee. “Did that count for this as well?”

He hadn’t yet let the smile stretch on his face, but the chiding smirk started to grow as the answer was clearly displayed all over her face and by the telltale feeling his finger shoved inside her way too tight hole told him.

“Aww, is the pretty little girl a virgin?” He gave her no inch of regret, even with the fact clear as day. Having worked her tightness well enough to cram another bony-knuckled finger inside her, making her cry out. “Don’t worry, that pretty pussy is in good hands.”

She owed him, this way they would be even. Besides, he wasn’t making it completely miserable for her either. Her face might be telling one story of torment, but her drooling pussy was telling him something utterly different. Perhaps it was due to her amateur ability to hold on, but she was soon creaming all over his fingers, body spasming in tired bliss, eyes fluttering for a moment or two, trying to grasp what the fuck was happening. It was adorable.

“I think my little slut is ready.”

She murmured a sigh, energy spent on crying and struggling and coming twice already, all she could do was moan when his cockhead broke through her tight little weeping hole. He had to moan as well at the snug hug her pussy squeezed and seized him with, biting roughly into his bottom lip, tooth snaggling in the dip of his scar. Brows raised in bliss, scrunched in an eruption, as he sunk deeper and deeper into her tight convulsing cunt, preciously clutching around him, fluttering upon the fulfilling snug fit that had her toes cramping in their curled state, eyes zoning out, unable to focus, mouth blubbering and chewing on incoherent sentences, only capable on slurring out muddled moans and wet gasps as he fucked slowly into, lolling his hips forward carefully, holding onto the mouthwatering feeling of her warmth around him.

He pushed his thumb into her clit, which had her back arching and moan ripped from her throat before she settled down into the mattress again, welcoming the stimulation where she was crippled to preventit. “Your pretty pussy loves being taken by my disgusting cock, doesn’t it?” She could only hum and croon in reply, as he hit the very back, pushing into her cervix with a rather soft nudge, having her result to sucking on her bottom-lip, purring whines like a little kitten taking pleasure from their master. “I hear it in your pretty moans.”

He was no longer biting out the word pretty as though it were a curse or venom on his tongue. It sounded more like praise than anything, something akin to awe, pride even, smug for having it all under his thumb, burying his cock inside the word, for being the one to have reduced such a pretty thing to such a pretty mess, all for him, all by him, making her all his.

She made a shuddering gasp, moaning into his mouth as he leaned down. “Oh, is the pretty girl gonna cum all over my disgusting cock.” He cooed, all five fingers placed on her cheek when cupping it to have those gorgeous opium-blown eyes look at him when she came undone, for him to find such dangerous satisfaction in seeing her conquered beneath him, finding it to be the last push to send him off his own edge as well. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum in that pretty pussy.”

He made to have that final bone-crushing kiss, faces mushed together in a sloppy mess of wet slippery tongues and drool, moaning and groaning, inhaling each-other.

Reduced to mere gasping and panting. Cock, having for the first time felt the fulfilling pleasure of blowing inside the warm comfort of a precious goddess, feeling her gush and come all over him in the near split-second, feeling her clench and tighten around him like a vice, robbing and ringing and milking him for every drop he was worth. He gave some more pumps, pushing deep within her, felt a shudder run down the underside of his cock, overstimulated and satisfied for the first time.

Still coming down from his high, he made to take in her shape and state.

He hadn’t really fantasized she’d be so pliant after being fucked, but looking at her now, he couldn’t imagine her any other way, anything more right then her glossy sweat-slicked body spasming in aftershocks of her orgasms, laid so preciously snug against his chest, thighs visibly shaking with still small feeble stuttering moans slipping from her lips in blubbers. He wasn’t too far from the same state himself, having had only barely the mind before exhaustion rendered his limbs too heavy for moving, to untie the knots and rearrange them into something more comfortable. He decided tying her wrists together in front of her to be better, legs free but too tired and dumbed-out to struggle.

He looked at her drowsy state with a smile, betting he could make such a grateful little pet out of her, and if not, then scramble her mind through so many cruel methods, and make do with a brainless toy instead. But, looking down at that blissed-out hopeless look on her face and that dainty defenseless body he’d manipulated and forced to its knees, he couldn’t really see how any cruel methods would be needed.

It seemed to him that all she needed was cock, a couple of orgasms forced from her pent-up body, a little relief. The little brat was just a bit grouchy and grumpy because she hadn’t had her pussy played with. He could relate, he also gets frustrated when not getting his dick wet for a while. She was just begging for someone to come handle her and that’s all there was to it. Just look at her now, so sweet and spent, lying in his arms.

Come to think of it, he knew for a fact that he wouldn’t be needing to apply any harsh treatments in taming her, she just needed to be tied up and made to feel just how good being taken care of feels until she accepted it willingly. And if and when she decides on being bratty, he’ll have plenty of methods of shutting that trap right up, or in making her scream.

TIP-JAR

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arvinsescape · 4 years ago

Text

His wife

Summary: Mobster Tom Holland was never going to get married and then he met her.

Warnings: Swearing, implied smut.

W/C: 1.9K

Tom Holland was one of the most feared men in London. He took over his family’s business at a young age and was growing more powerful by the year. He never thought he’d get married; he became so wrapped up in taking complete power throughout London that he never thought past one-night stands. Then he met her.

Tom walked into the club in hopes of finding a way of relaxing. He’d been cooped up in his office and meeting room all week and he needed a distraction for the night. He noticed her instantly, black dress that stopped just above her knees, a rare sight for one of his establishments. Most women would show up in the shortest and skimpiest looking outfits in hopes of the mobster taking them home for the night. Not her though.

He made his way over to where she was standing at the bar and was instantly taken back by her beauty. She wasn’t covered in a ridiculous amount of make-up, she let her natural beauty do the work for her. He’d found his distraction.

“Now what is a pretty girl like you doing at the bar alone?” He asked. Usually he would instantly be met with the batting of eyelashes and his job was half done. Not her.

“Does that line usually work?” She asked him amused.

“Every time love.” He fired back equally as amused. She’d laughed at that.

“Gonna have to try a little harder if you want to get me into bed.”

“Darling, you are aware of who I am?” He smirked.

“Very Mr Holland.” She’d challenged. Fuck that sounded hot coming out of her mouth.

“So you know I have a reputation for not disappointing.” He was being cocky now, hoping maybe she’d find that attractive.

“I’ve heard rumours. But what makes you think I want to sleep with you?” She asked, amused look on her face. He was somewhat taken aback by it, not used to having to work so hard, he liked it.

“Well most of the women that come in here hope to end up in my bed. Forgive me for assuming.” He tried. She snorted as she brought her drink up to her lips.

“Maybe I just came in for a drink?” She fired back. There was a hint of flirtation there but not enough for him to work with. He had never met anyone who challenged him like this and he found it that much more of a turn on.

He found himself distracted in a different way that evening. She was flirty but kept him at arm’s length. She challenged him and didn’t seem to have that look of fear in her eyes most people did when they spoke to him.

“So, I have to point out. You don’t want to sleep with me, yet here you still are?” He was close to her now and most bystanders could almost feel the sexual tension radiating off them. Tom included.

“Here I still am.” She leaned in a little closer to him, she snaked her arms around his shoulders which took him by surprise. Most of the women he encountered wanted him to dominate them from the second he met them. But here she was somewhat taking control. His hands instantly found her waist.

He wanted to kiss her but he wasn’t entirely sure it was just to get her into bed anymore. He found her intriguing. His wants took over and he found himself leaning closer to her. She moved one of her hands and slipped it into his suit. ‘Got you’ was all Tom thought and just as he was about to kiss her, she moved away from him.

He looked at her dumbfounded as did most of the bystanders. No one was used to seeing this.

“Mr Holland. I don’t kiss before a man has bought me coffee.” She’s said and this had him smirking as she winked before grabbing her purse and walking out of the club.

It wasn’t until he got home that night that he realised she’d slipped her number into his suit. He’d smiled upon finding it and found himself texting her almost daily. He learned a lot about her in a way he’d never taken the time to know anyone outside of his close family and friends. Usually he wanted to know about people for business purposes, but not her. He found himself wanting to know more and more about her, it was as if she was reeling him in, not the other way around.

It wasn’t until six months after that meeting that Tom found himself in bed with her and by that point he was hopelessly in love and completely wrapped around her little finger. Some people thought she was using him, that had been the rumour at first, women became jealous when they heard Tom Holland was off limits.

That was not the case at all, she was just as in love with him as he was with her. He found himself asking her to marry him eighteen months later. Some people said it was too fast but in his business, life held a different sort of meaning. It could be ripped from you any day. She’d not hesitated to say yes. They married six months later and became a powerhouse of London.

He loved everything about her. She wasn’t intimidated by the men around her; she was powerful in her own way. She knew she didn’t stand a chance physically but mentally she could outwit every man in the room. She was the reason he didn’t fail business deals, the reason he got what he wanted. She became someone he wanted there to close deals.

He remembers the first time she’d somewhat taken control in a meeting. He was negotiating territory with a mobster who was losing power but being stubborn about it. He wanted to avoid bloodshed with the older mobster, so he’d have to take it from him slowly.

“Ask for 50% Tom.” She’d said as she sat on the edge of his desk fixing his tie.

“He’s not going to give me that. I’m not sure he’ll be happy with 40.”

“No, but if he thinks you want 50, he’ll settle easier for 40. He knows you want to avoid bloodshed but he also knows he’d lose if it came to it so he has to give you something.” She’d said as she finished fixing his tie.

“You’re too clever for your own good my love.” He said as he placed his hands on her waist and she wrapped hers round his shoulders as she laughed. He thought it was a beautiful sound.

“Makes me wonder how I got everything done before.” He leant down to give her a kiss. The kiss quickly became heated as he moved her back further onto the desk. His hand was trailing up her thigh as she let out quiet whimpers against his lips.

Just as he was about to get where she needed him most someone knocked on the door. He stood as he brought her with him. She was smoothing out her dress as he spoke.

“Come in.” Harrison popped his head around the office door. He smirked when he took in her flushed state.

“He’s here.” Harrison said.

They’d been in the meeting for half an hour, you were sat on your husband’s lap as his arm was around your waist.

“Tell you what Holland, I’ll give you 40% if the lovely lady has a drink with me. A drink of my choice.” The older mobster said. She wondered for a second if he was purposely trying to rile Tom up.

“I’m a married woman.” She said as she smiled flirtingly at him. Tom tensed but she quickly smoothed a hand down his cheek to calm him down.

“What are you doing?” Tom had whispered into her ear.

“Trust me.” She whispered back as she kissed his cheek.

“Look, I understand that the lovely lady is off limits but what’s the harm in a drink?” The older mobster laughed. Of course, he chose whiskey, it was almost cliché. The strong whisky went down her throat easily as she downed the whole drink, she’d spent enough nights drinking with Tom and could drink as well as they could.

She placed her glass on the table, fingers still grasped around it. The older mobster had laughed when he saw it was empty. “I like you.” He said as he reached over and took her wrist in his hand. She panicked for a second but it quickly dies down. Tom was here. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her and it filled her with a confidence she’d never had before.

She felt as Tom reached for his gun and found herself stopping him as he looked at her confused but he trusted her, she asked him to so he would. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her but he knew she was powerful and a small part of him wanted to see how it would play out.

She looked the mobster straight in the eyes as she spoke.

“Continue to touch me and he’ll take 100% of your territory.” She smiled at him. Tom was impressed to say the least.

“Oh yeah? And how’s that sweetheart?” He fired back.

“All I have to do is ask and you’ll find yourself with a broken wrist and a bullet between your eyes.” She said in a sultry tone as her eyes flicked towards Tom. God, Tom was in love with this woman. “Now I’m not sure about everyone else but I know for certain my husband doesn’t want any stains on this lovely carpet and I wouldn’t want to upset him. He wants to avoid bloodshed but he won’t if you continue to make him angry.” She smirked. Tom swears to God he was instantly hard.

"Is that a threat little bird?" The mobster said and he watched as his wife leant over to speak in his ear.

"That's a promise." And he just came in pants.

Tom watched as fear flashed through the mobster’s eyes momentarily. ‘God, fuck, how did I get so lucky to marry her.’ He thought. The older man let out a loud laugh. “I like her Holland. I really do.” He said as he removed his hand.

Tom instantly relaxed when he saw the hand leave your wrist and he tightened his arm around her waist. They continued to make the deal and Tom found his hand wandering to hem of her dress every now and again. When they left, deal happily made he kissed along her shoulder.

“That was fucking hot.” He said as he kissed her neck. She smirked at him as he moved her back onto the meeting table.

After that she became his secret weapon, she knew what to do and she guided him in the direction of getting everything he wanted. He’d managed to start taking over quickly, he was avoiding fights and bloodshed when it was unnecessary because of her and it was keeping the police off his back, making his job easier. They were absolutely in love with each other and pushed each other to be better, to get what they wanted and although he never thought he’d get married he was so thankful he did.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #mob!tom

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bandaigaeru · 4 years ago

Text

a spell for you - hwang hyunjin

→ synopsis: he had spontaneously chosen you as a victim, leaving you with nothing but the desire to return his motives. → word count: 11k → genre: hogwarts au, enemies to lovers → pairing: slytherin!hyunjin x gryffindor! gender neutral reader (feat. jihyo (twice))

→ warnings: one mention of the reader's period (it's not necessary for context, but just know that it is there) → author's note (super quick haha): i feel like i could have done a lot better with this, so perhaps there will be a rewrite in the future if this one disappoints you. happy, slightly belated, new year!

His hair catches the light with a shimmering pang. He brushes a hand through it, tucking a pestering strand behind his ear. Intently, he watches beside him, where his friends are shoving each other and threatening a fight. His lips are parted, threatening a smile.

"Stop trying to steal my potion," Changbin shoves, his grip on the glass bottle tightening as Seungmin reaches for it.

"You're the one who took it from me!" Seungmin whines, defensively hitting the inner elbow wielding his potion.

"No fighting in my classroom," Professor Nam breathily warns, leaning back in her chair defeatedly. She found it too difficult to try corralling them anymore.

You scoff.

Hyunjin turns to you, a smirk pulling the corner of his lip. "What? Got a problem?"

You roll your eyes. "Your presence is breaking my concentration. Why don't you go fight with Seungmin and never come back? That sounds perfect."

"What're you even concentrating on? The test you're gonna fail anyway?" Hyunjin jabs, puffing out his bottom lip in fake sympathy.

"Says the one who has worse grades than me."

He drags his chair closer to your desk, robe trailing slightly behind. His heavy breath casts a warmth against the back of your hand. "That's no way to talk to a superior."

"Superior?" you glance up, laughing. "Slytherins will never be superior to Gryffindors."

"Why is that?" Hyunjin cocks his head, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. His eyebrows jump with curiosity.

"Because snakes will only ever stay in the grass. Lions can at least jump."

He nods. "True. But a snake can kill a lion with its venom, and then your jumping is pointless."

From the seat in front of you, Jeongin groans. "Shut up already. Ravenclaws are the best and it's time you all admit it."

In unison, you and Hyunjin mutter, "Never that."

You look to him, his eyes in the same amount of shock as yours. You slam your textbook closed, shoving it into your bag. "Gross."

As you're standing from your chair, he coos, "If you're going to the common room, you should change."

"Why would I change for you, Hwang Hyunjin?"

"Because there's a stain on your pants," he smirks.

You grimace, tossing a dismissive wave over your shoulder as you leave the classroom. Nam doesn't care. She's too busy filing her nails and trying to keep Seungmin and Changbin from decapitating each other. You know, a normal day in her classroom. Plus, the bell is nearing its drone.

The hidden entry shifts for you as you approach. "Thank you, madam," you shout to the portrait above you.

The lady hums. The cement crackly replenishes itself behind you as you relish in the abandoned common room. Everyone is in classes, or should be, at least. You rush up to your room, tossing your bag and immediately changing into a different set of pants.

Sure enough, on the butt of your previous plaid ones is a small brown splotch. It can't be your period, so you slowly get closer to look at it. The waft of chocolate tickles your nose.

"Hwang Hyunjin," you grumble. He's probably sitting in that classroom still, snickering with his friends at how gullible you are. But hey, at least the stain kind of blends in.

ii.

The idea of revenge had seemed a waste of time in your formative years. Until your eyes locked with Hwang Hyunjin's in your first year. Those beady little pupils that followed every move you made. Tactical. Always ready to sink his fangs.

His first prank had been a simple fart joke (as fresh teenagers love). With the wave of his wand, he summoned a low groan right behind you. His acting skills were put to use as he brought a hand to his nose. "Ew, Y/N farted!"

Your cheeks flushed as you confusedly turned to him. You snapped, "No, I didn't."

Though, his choir of laughs had drowned your defense and left you with the heat of shame. He smiled back at you as he sat down, his dark wand still poised in his fingers.

Now, as you sit in the dining hall with hyperactive attention and a dismal pull for hunger, the target enters. His blond hair is pulled back into a ponytail, with a few straying pieces. There is a quirk to his lips as he talks to the friends at his sides. You can feel the bass of his laughter in your shoulders.

"Hello? You in there?" Changbin waves a hand in front of your dazed eyes.

"What?" you turn back to him as Hyunjin takes a seat in his usual spot.

He sighs. "You scouting him again?"

"I have to get back at him," you mutter, picking up your fork before you stab the noodles on your plate.

"Y/N," Changbin whines. Your steely eyes look to him, and he immediately softens, caving in on himself.

"You're a Gryffindor," you start, twirling the noodles, "better start acting like one."

"Are you saying I can't be friends with both of you?"

You shake your head. "Never insinuated that. I'm standing my ground, and you shouldn't be preventing me from doing that."

Changbin looks to the other faces listening in, but all of them are little help. Jisung catches his eye, shaking his head. Defeated, he sighs, turning back to his meal. He drowns the words on his tongue with water.

The dinner session ends rather quickly (thanks to your rambled thoughts). Students bustle to return to designated common rooms for the night. Your eyes are glued to the back of Hyunjin's head. He's in no hurry, evidently, because he is still seated at the table, eyes crinkled with laughter. The cold wood of the wand is a familiar feeling in your palm. It's comforting. It reminds you of a time where Hwang Hyunjin was merely a classmate. How simple life was.

The hollowness he had claimed in your stomach deepens when he finally stands. You

point your wand at him carefully, suddenly grateful Changbin isn't here, and whisper, "Confundo."

The trademarked confident stride caves in on itself as the boy shrinks. He glances around. Upturned eyebrows and lost eyes. You rush to walk past him, a small wave and a smile. He doesn't seem to recognize you.

You can't help but laugh.

iii.

Your head is held high as you're walking to your first class of the day. Last night hasn't stopped replaying in your head, and the smile has yet to fade. He looked so lost. His eyes were wide and puppylike, and it even sent a jolt through your heart. Finally, he'd gotten a piece of his own medicine.

A barrier stops you from going further. It tugs you back by the sleeve of your blazer, leaving you to stare back into the somewhat lost eyes of the boy you had terrorized.

"What do you want?" you mumble, glancing down the hall. If anyone were to see you two, this close, they'd know something was up.

"What spell did you use? I can't shake it. I've been awake all night trying to get rid of it."

You chuckle and shrug. "Well, it's already lost some of its oomph. Only time can cure you."

You try to continue your path, but he grabs your shoulders and spins you back to look at him. He leans close to your face, and your breath chokes you. His eyes are no longer wide with innocence. They hold a knife back at you. "What spell did you use?"

"Confundo. Why, do you think I cursed you?" you scoff, squirming beneath his palms. "I'm not that mean, Hwang."

He lets go of your shoulders, staring at his shoes in defeat. You stumble a little. "Dumbass," he mutters, "We have an exam today. I can't concentrate on something like that, especially since I was up all night. Why would you do this?"

A sprout of something dizzying scratches your chest. You lean onto your toes as you whisper, "Should have thought about that before you started this mess."

You continue your walk to class with newfound guilt. Behind you, Hyunjin mutters, "I'll get back at you. Big time."

Your day had always been thwarted by the presence of Hwang Hyunjin, for he was always in every class. But today, he's not there. You presume he's caught in the Slytherin tower, curled in a ball as he tries to dispel his confusion. Mayhaps he's even sleeping. In a way, you kind of miss his antics. The way he tossed his head back and let his hair cascade at the fate of gravity simply for the muse that it 'helped him think.'

You found yourself smiling at your exam packet, and you instantly recoil. Hyunjin's an asshole, and he deserves everything he gets.

Changbin nudges you. You glance at him and he begins to fight a laugh. "What're you thinking of in that pretty little head of yours?"

You look back to your test in alarm. "Nothing," you whisper, warily glancing at Professor Nam, whose eyes wander up and down the aisles.

"Is it Hyunjin?" he leans toward you.

You shake your head, hissing, "Absolutely not."

Professor Nam skips over a row to you. "No talking. I'll take points if I catch you two again."

Changbin settles back into his test, leaving you with thoughts of your own. As you aimlessly bubbled in answers seemingly obvious, you thought to Hyunjin. Maybe you were a little out of line with the confundo incident, but it was your turn for revenge. You glance up at his empty chair when you finish the test. In the far corner of your head, you swear you can hear his obnoxious laugh and breathy, "I told you so."

Overhead, the bell rings. It dismisses everyone from their classes and momentarily dismisses Hyunjin from the warmth of your thoughts. You pass your exam forward, quickly scavenging your things together and following the pack into the halls. Nam's class is the last of the day, and it's Friday. Your weekend is free ahead of you, and you consider inviting Changbin and Jisung to a picnic or something.

A hand claps down on your shoulder before a deep laugh shakes in your ears. "Y/N! I heard what you did to Hyunjin. Genius, I must say."

You glance to the owner of the voice, meeting the glimmering eyes of Kim Seungmin. He looks down on you with a warm smile. So unlike a Slytherin.

"Thank you," you straighten your posture as you continue walking.

His hand doesn't move from your shoulder. His breath is hot against your ear as he whispers, "But if it's just between you and me, you're gonna wish you didn't do that."

Shivers trail the back of your neck to your wrists. When you look at him, he's still harboring that welcoming grin. "Ciao," he removes his hand to wave at you. Then, he starts in the opposite direction, against the wave of traffic.

You walk the rest of the way with your eyes glued ahead. A Gryffindor does not back down. They are brave, you remind yourself.

The Fat Lady allows you entry into the common room, but the hallway is backed up. You stretch your neck to try and see above the crowd, though nothing but heads of hair taints your view. There's a pit in your stomach, and before you can shove through, you already have an idea what's going on.

The Gryffindor common room has been plagued with the stench of Hwang Hyunjin's mischievous antics. It is drenched in a potion of Nidore, resembling the smell of untreated B.O. Han Jisung plugs his nose as he glances around. He catches your eye, muttering, "Do you smell this?"

Your eyes are lazed with irritation. Curtly, you nod. "Yeah. Hyunjin did this. I'm sure of it."

Jisung whines, tapping his foot impatiently, "Why can't you two just keep your tricks in class? This is violating school rules. He shouldn't be in here. He's a Slytherin!"

You bite on the inner piece of your lip as heeled steps echo closer. The presence of a tall woman sends anxious goosebumps down your spine. You turn to her, though you're sure you look pitiful.

"What is the meaning of this?" she shouts, looking among the students for any clue.

Jisung nudges your arm.

"We have reason to believe it was a Slytherin's doing, madam," another professor slips into the room, promptly covering his nose.

"Do we have a name for this Slytherin?" she crosses her arms and purses her lips.

The professor shakes his head, looking to his freshly shined shoes. Faintly, he wonders if the smell will ruin them. "No. Not yet."

The headmistress sighs, waving her hand. "Gryffindors are to report to the dining hall immediately until this mess is covered. Start an investigation at once."

"Yes, ma'am," the professor's head falls as he pushes back through the crowd, which is now graciously evacuating. Those simple words were all they needed.

You feel bolted to the floor. All you can do is stare at the bun atop the headmistress's head. Hyunjin had gone too far, but you had triggered this. Jisung grabs your wrist and pulls you out.

He takes you up the hall, into the bathroom. He closes the door behind you.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he whisper-shouts.

You shake your head, a rock lodging its way into your throat as you avert his sharp eyes. "I fucked up."

"Obviously."

Han Jisung is standing with his hands on his hips, his eyes looking like they're about to bulge from his head. He must be disappointed. "What're you gonna do about this?"

"I'm gonna have to tell McGonagall."

Jisung sighs, taking a long look at you. "If you think that's what's best, go on." He opens the door for you.

You trudge back to the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady grants you entrance, though she says, "It sure smells in there, love. I wouldn't stay long if I were you."

When you reach the end of the hallway, McGonagall is no longer there. Instead, there's a blond boy who laughs quietly to himself. He looks back at you. "I knew you'd come back."

"Hyunjin, what the hell do you think you're doing? You went too far. You could get expelled over this, you know?"

He shakes his head. "I won't get expelled. My family's donated too much to this school. You should have seen the look on your face, though."

You blink as he stands. "Have you ever stopped to think about other people for a change? I'm nothing without this school."

Hyunjin sucks his teeth. "Should have thought about that one."

You open your mouth to retaliate, but overhead a voice takes over. "Y/N Y/L/N of Gryffindor and Hwang Hyunjin of Slytherin, please report to the headmistress' office immediately."

Hyunjin wraps his arm around your shoulder, the tips of his fingers trailing a path along your collarbone. "Shall we?"

iv.

"I can expel you. Is that what you would like?" McGonagall inquires, pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. Around her, papers float as she pointedly looks for one in specific.

"No," you mumble.

Hyunjin tips his head back, allowing his hair to fall back. There is a menacing curl to his lips.

"Your antics have been going on for how long? Nearly six years?"

Your gaze is locked on your shoes. They need a shining, you note.

Hyunjin begins chuckling. "You're not actually serious about expulsion, right? My family would never let you hear the end of it."

McGonagall plucks a paper from the air, looking at it. "No, Mr. Hwang. But keep up your attitude and I'll make the remainder of your time here a living hell."

You look at Hyunjin, whose eyes wait for yours. He smiles, offering a sharp pierce to your heart. Your eyes shoot back to the floor. The toe of his shoe pierces your vision, inching to nudge yours.

"What I think is appropriate," McGonagall starts, plucking another paper. "is that you two seek a middle ground. I am requesting that wizardry chores are to be saved for you two, and you will perform them together. I am uncertain on the duration, still, but I assure you it will not be comfortable."

Hyunjin scoffs. "You're gonna make us do laundry or something?"

McGonagall sighs, looking up at him. She offers a pitying smile. "It'll be much, much worse than that, Mr. Hwang."

"Thank you," he sarcastically remarks.

You look up to McGonagall, bowing your head gently. "Thank you for not resorting to expulsion."

"You two are immature wizards, which is incredibly dangerous in today's society. I need to knock sense into you, not allow you the means to rebel."

You don't dare look at Hyunjin, but you're sure he has smoke billowing from his ears. Because nobody, not even the headmistress, should talk down on him. "A Slytherin," you recall him saying, "is the top of the food chain."

"Now," she claps, sending a jolt through you. "Your first task is to remove the potion from the Gryffindor common room. That should be fairly easy for you, Mr. Hwang."

He grimaces, starting out of the office. He swears beneath his breath, and doesn't even make fun of you when you trip and nearly faceplant. Instead, he offers a glance back at you before continuing on his way. Not even a single sly comment.

When you return to the common room, Changbin waits outside. He pushes off the cement walls, arms crossed against his velvet robe. "Oh? Are you two finally allowing your love for each other to blossom?"

You shoot him a warning look, but it amasses to nothing when Hyunjin grabs him by the collar and pins him against the wall. "Watch your mouth."

He throws him to the ground before hesitantly entering the hallway.

"Who pissed in his Cheerios?" Changbin scrambles to stand up again. He seeks you for answers, but falls short when all you offer is a secured gaze on the floor.

The Gryffindor common room is still oozing with stench, but in the center of it is Hwang Hyunjin, the mastermind. He seems more bothered by McGonagall's comments than the smell. He raises his wand of Blackthorn, chanting an unknown spell. The odor vanquishes, leaving you only with the other elephant in the room.

Hyunjin starts out the door, bumping into your shoulder on the way. "Just stay out of my way and we won't have problems."

You huff, staring at the back of his neck, "Be mature for once."

He stops, his head slumping. He slowly turns back to you, venom laced with his words as he says, "You're the reason we're in this mess. Stay out of my way so we can get this over with, okay?"

Ice builds up your ankles. You cannot move. You cannot speak. You're left to watch as he storms out of the room. So much for a stable weekend.

Things truly began with doing the laundry. Muttered remarks fluttered from Hyunjin's lips, though he does not speak directly to you. Nor does he even offer a spare glance.

Then, you had a trip to Hogsmeade. Though, under strict supervision by Professor Kim, whose gaze never left your necks. "Isn't the grocer that way, Mr. Hwang?" he had said. Hyunjin tensed, dark eyes looking back at the old man. Though, he did not speak. He simply moved on his way.

After that, McGonagall had sent for you two to clean the Slytherin dungeons. "Real Slytherins aren't this piggish," Hyunjin grumbled, scrubbing harshly at the moss buildup.

Hesitance built in your veins every time he was around. Though, his gaze has not crossed your skin once. His words, too, were never meant to travel over your robes. He treats you as though you are an imaginary friend who he vowed to erase from his life.

You release a shaky breath.

"I won't be at dinner," you warn your friends for the sixth day in a row. A setting sun peeks through the broad window panes.

"You serving time again?" Minho manages through sips of scalding coffee. For a Ravenclaw, he didn't always live up to the stereotype.

"They're not serving time, per se," Changbin counters. "But close enough."

Chan tugs at your sleeve, pulling you away from the crowd. "Are you okay?"

Tears prick the corners of your vision, but you nod. "Yeah. I'm fine. I just kinda wanna get this over with."

Chan offers a small, sheepish smile. "Okay. Just let me know if you need anything. I may be a Hufflepuff, but I can beat his ass if you want me to."

You giggle, bringing your sleeved arm to brush against your nose. "Thank you."

At the end of the hall, where it halts with the choice of the dining hall or the potions branch of the school, you take a left while everyone else turns right.

Today, McGonagall needed you to clean the bathrooms. Hyunjin, of course, was not looking forward to it. He didn't look forward to anything, you realize.

"Hey," you greet, gently setting down your bag outside the bathroom. The door is still closed.

Hyunjin looks up from his phone. He doesn't say anything, but at least he acknowledges you by slipping his phone into his pocket. His hand encases the doorknob before he pushes it open.

Disgust twists his face as he gags. "What the hell? Have these ever been used?"

"Evidently," you remark, peeking around the doorway to see a pile of green sludge accustomed to the floor.

Hyunjin sighs. "I guess we better get started."

You nod, picking up a mop that awaited. You work in silence. Hyunjin curses under his breath, grunting as he works. When you steal a glance, his face is reddened and there are beads of sweat threatening to drip from his brow.

The sludge, you presume, is mutated moss. It's actually quite common in castles like this one. Nonetheless, it's gross to eliminate. And the smell. Just thinking about it would send shivers down your spine.

On Hyunjin's end of the bathroom, behind the protection of a wall, there is a gurgle and an accompanying shout. "You're joking," he whines.

He steps out from the stall, the white of his undershirt blotched with green and orange. It looks like vomit, but it smells much worse. You don't have time to laugh, for he's gathering his things. "I'm tired of McGonagall making us do her stupid errands. Doesn't she have servants for this? I'm done!" he offers you one last glance before he leaves.

Silence was more comfortable when he sat in it with you.

vi.

You jolt with the realization. Certainly you weren't starting to enjoy Hyunjin's company. That's outright impossible. If anything at all, you were merely starting to see him as a comrade or acquaintance.

But you were not, absolutely not, starting to feel something for him.

The sun starts to leak through your curtains, portraying your sleeping roommate like a silhouette. You sigh, falling back onto the pillows. The ceiling stares back at you with an intimidating uncertainty. Hyunjin wasn't going to be doing the chores anymore, so it would be pointless in talking to him about it. So long as McGonagall doesn't find out that you're working solo, things should be okay.

You travel with the crowd, accepting breakfast alone. Your friends were probably still sleeping. Minho might be awake, but he's likely locked in the Ravenclaw chamber, hiding from the outside world on his rest day.

McGonagall's wishes for today, as delivered by Professor Kim, was to visit Hagrid's hut and obtain a dragon egg. The reason, she did not state. Probably official school business that you had no intention, nor desire, of searching into. If Hyunjin were with you, that'd likely be a different story.

You leave the castle at quarter to noon. It's chilly outside (you probably could have used a jacket) but the sun is held central in the sky. You take a deep breath, admiring the traveling scents of blossoms and lilies. The gravel path crunches beneath your shoes. A bright pink azalea catches your eye. It hangs on the edge of the forest, serving a bookmark among the green. You step off of the path, taking careful steps toward it.

"Wow," you mumble, bringing your palm to it. It's soft against your skin.

You wonder if Hyunjin likes flowers. A smile cracks your lips. "It'd be funny if he did," you whisper to yourself.

A squealing cry causes you to flinch. You turn in the direction of the noise, spotting a pig running for dear life. Its little legs overworking themselves in a blur. Close behind is a hippogriff, tall and muscular. It walks with leisure, for its legs equate to nearly thirty of the pig's.

You gulp. They're bigger than the textbooks lead on. You take a wary step back. A stick crunches beneath your weight. The hippogriff's gaze sways toward you. It cocks its head curiously.

You wished you paid more attention in Care of Magical Creatures. Stupid Hyunjin and his stupid distractions. Why did he even begin picking on you in the first place? Was it chance? Did he know you were a Gryffindor and simply nod and declare you were the one? For whatever reason, it has brought you here.

A Gryffindor shouldn't cry in a situation like this. They should stand tall and tame the beast. Fight if they have to, but that's a shrugging matter. You're not like other Gryffindors, though. Who are you kidding? You're a lousy one.

So you cry. If death is upon you, all you really can do is cry.

The hippogriff opens its beak and lets out a shrill cry. Its heavy footsteps echo into the trees, shaking birds from branches. It poises its hind legs in a crouch, preparing for the hunt. Like any predator, it expects you to run.

You shake your head, glancing to the pink azalea beside your head. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the impact. You hear its footsteps drawing near.

"Alarte ascendare!" a voice yells. There is a boom and a crash.

Hesitant, you open your eyes. The hippogriff is laying in front of you, bloodied and gasping for breath. A wave of heat washes over you as you dizzily fall to your knees. You try to look for the source of the voice, but your vision is hazy.

Arms wrap around you. They steady you. You look up. "Hyunjin?"

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here," he pulls your head into his chest, resting his chin atop your head.

"What're you doing here?" Your mouth is dry. Any moment, you feel as though you might fall. Through the earth and into an abyss. But still, Hyunjin holds you.

"Same goes for you. Why're you out here unsupervised, huh?" his voice is in a calming whisper. His fingers trace repeating lines through your hair.

"McGonagall wanted us to go get an egg from Hagrid," you tell him, removing the detail of the flower. You didn't need him calling you stupid for straying from the path.

He sighs. For once, he's speechless. He just keeps playing with your hair, occasionally glancing to the hippogriff, who has since long stopped breathing.

vii.

Behind the large wooden doors of the infirmary, you hear a droning voice. "Slaughter of a magical creature on school grounds can be charged with expulsion. Are you aware of that, Mr. Hwang?"

The following voice is much quieter, though you don't have the energy to strain yourself. Your head is pounding, and there's a bandage around your ankle. Your eyes fall on the door. A nurse has her ear cupped to it. Heavy eyelids take their reign over you. The voice fades into the darkness, leaving you cold and lost.

When you finally open your eyes again, there is a face hanging over you. You slowly blink.

"Sleep well?" McGonagall inquires. Her glasses hang low on the bridge of her nose. You're afraid they might fall on you if she stays much longer.

You nod. "What time is it?"

McGonagall steps back, bringing her wristwatch into frame. She tilts her head. "Around 2:30. It's Thursday. You've been here nearly twenty-four hours, you know?"

You fight to sit up. Imaginary weights drag you back. "Don't expel Hyunjin," you find yourself saying, though the words seem foreign. You're not even sure you spoke them in your native tongue.

"Sorry?"

"I said," you pause, taking a deep breath, "Don't expel Hyunjin. It's not his fault."

McGonagall juts out her chin, pursing her lips. "And why shouldn't I?"

You sigh, as though you cannot believe that you're defending Hwang Hyunjin. "I was careless. I strayed from the path to Hagrid's because I saw a stupid flower. If it weren't for Hyunjin, I'd probably be dead meat."

She hums, removing her glasses and pointing the golden frames towards you. "So my plan, it worked?"

"What plan?"

"Of getting you two to mature and see each other as equals."

"I don't know about the whole equals thing-"

"Hush, I don't want to hear it. You two will meet in my office Saturday morning, I expect. I'll send a reminder tomorrow evening," McGonagall huffs, turning to leave. Her heels clobber against the tile all the way to the end of the hall.

Within no time, the nurse is at your bedside, offering you a glass of water and a blonde potion. "Can I get you anything else?" she asks, interlacing her fingers and resting them on the pocket of her apron.

You glance at your ankle. "What happened?"

She offers a weak smile. "I wouldn't be able to tell you. Ask that blond boy who brought you in. I'm sure he knows. Or at least, he'll be able to point you in the right direction."

You slowly nod. "Thank you."

"Yes, dear. Oh, and you should be able to return to your dormitory as soon as you're ready. Take it easy."

When she's disappeared into the office by the set of doors, you sigh. What mess did Hwang Hyunjin get you into? More accurately, what mess did you get yourself into? You can't even find it in you to be mad at him, though logically you should be. Especially with the way he stroked your hair before you fainted. At that moment, he seemed like an angel. A blond-headed angel, whose blood was tainted with the venom of snakes.

Even so, none of this would have happened had he not stormed off. And you'll remind yourself that every time an endearing thought crosses your mind. He may have saved you, but he had essentially set you as bait. Indirectly, but still.

Near dinnertime, you leave the infirmary to freshen up. Your hair was matted and there was dirt smudged on your cheeks. After a quick shower, wary of your wrapped foot, you hobble to the dining hall. Before you settle with a questioning Seo Changbin, you glance at the empty spot of the infamous Slytherin section. The setting sun failed to cast a glow on blond hair, for he was not there. Perhaps he had been pulled from school, and McGonagall has yet to hear the news. Or maybe he's punishing himself for even going after you. Regardless, a swollen hole burns through your chest. It sparks irritation as you push around tonight's meal with the tip of your fork.

"Hey, what happened to your ankle? Did Hyunjin do something? Why aren't you answering my questions? Why are you sulking?" Changbin racks off. "Hello? Anybody in there?" He nudges your shoulder.

"I don't know what happened. I need to talk to Hyunjin about it," you simply say, finally forcing yourself to eat the food. Despite not eating for nearly two days, you felt no sense of hunger. In fact, you felt as though you were about to explode. As if you had eaten too much.

"Ah, I see. You're sulking because you have to talk to Hyunjin."

"I don't think it's that," you sigh, slumping as you look back to his spot. Still, it's empty.

"Then what's the problem?"

You think hard about what you say next. You can't tell him about this weird concoction brewing in your chest, for he'll run with it and send the school into another Battle of Hogwarts. "I just feel off. I don't know."

Jisung nudges your shin from beneath the table. You look up to him. He mouths, slowly and deliberately, "Are you okay?"

You nod, half-certain.

Changbin continues to pester you, despite the lack of responses. Even when you stand to return your tray, he follows. All the way to the common room, he sticks close, leaning over you to whisper more questions. You can't even fathom how he hasn't run out yet.

He grabs your shoulders, spinning you around. "Look at me."

Your eyes feel slow as they scan for his. He continues, "I don't know what's gotten into you, but if you need to talk about it, I am here for you. If it's about Hyunjin, I won't run off to tell him, okay? Family before friends."

"Thanks, Binnie," you force a smile, before breaking away from his grasp and closing the gap to your room. You gently close the door before plummeting onto your bed.

viii.

Hyunjin fails to appear to any class other than Professor Nam's. His seat, though filled, holds a barren figure with bags pulling at his eyes. He spares you a small smile when he catches your stare. He even offers a spare remark about your shoes. "Don't you think it's time to retire those, Y/N? They're all shabby."

But that's all he can bring himself to say. When he turns back in his seat, he slumps a little. Seungmin whispers something to him, and his head barely shakes in response.

You try not to stare at the back of his head. Even it seems to have lost some kind of sparkle to it. The bell blares its dismissal, and the class evacuates immediately. You take your time, for Hwang Hyunjin appears to be in no rush.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" you block his way when he tries to pass without a single word. "Don't you need to get your quota of insults in? The week's over, bud."

He looks at you like he's never met you. "Oh. Sorry."

He pushes through, brushing past your shoulder. Gently. Not the usual brash interaction.

You huff, stumbling after him. "We need to talk."

"Go ahead."

"Not if you're gonna be like this. C'mon, I wore my ugliest pair of pants to try and get a rouse from you."

He spares a glance at the bright plaid trousers. "Nice."

You smack his shoulder. "What is the matter with you?"

He shrugs. "I don't know."

You stop walking, merely watching as he continues down the hall. There's no point in this, you realize. Arguing with this Hyunjin is like talking to a brick wall encased by another brick wall. Things will resume to their normal pace in due time.

You pull yourself to the Gryffindor common room, barricading yourself in your room. The moment your head connects with your pillow, a single tear falls. It's hot against your cheek.

At quarter to six, you decide to skip out on dinner. You're not sure what you'd do if you saw him sitting at his table, drawn back from the usual conversations with Seungmin.

A card slips under your door, scraping against the hardwood. You sit up to retrieve it. On the front, in large, careful cursive letters is your name. A small letter is inside, reading, "Do not forget our meeting tomorrow morning. 9:00 A.M. sharp. If you are not here, I will have someone fetch you."

You begin laughing. McGonagall's going to have a fit when she sees you and Hyunjin. A vivacious boy with a tongue for quips turned hollow and you, a Gryffindor with a newfound fear of facing him.

ix.

The back of his neck is marked crimson by the amount of times he scratches it during that meeting. His gaze averts yours, even when you know you've burnt a hole in his cheek.

"I'm sure you're aware why I've called you in," McGonagall sighs, crossing her arms as she leans against her desk.

You force your gaze to rest on her, slowly shaking your head.

"I have no choice but to dismiss our project we had."

"You mean making us do chores together?" you question, sure Hyunjin would be proud of you for such a comment. When you glance at him, he doesn't even spare a blink out of routine.

"Well, if you view it as such I'm afraid I can't change that," she nods. You know that if Hyunjin had said that, he'd be getting yelled at. Good day to hold the Gryffindor title, you dejectedly admit.

She scans Hyunjin's face for any sign of life. "You in there, Mr. Hwang?"

His head shifts upward toward her. "Yes, sorry."

"You're awfully quiet," she mentions. He shrugs, returning his eyes to his lap. He fidgets with the dark wood at the tip of his wand.

"Well, if there are no further objections, you are free to leave."

Hyunjin runs with these words, taking his bag and rushing out. He barely even offers a polite quip. You follow him out, a few distancing steps in between. He heads for the Slytherin tower. For a moment, you consider calling out and inviting him to lunch. But you don't. Instead, you go back to the Gryffindor common room, nestling in for a game of chess with Changbin. He's not very good, but at least it serves as a laughing distraction.

The sun falls over the horizon rather slowly, as though someone tugs it back on a pulley system. Changbin wishes you goodnight a bit past eight, leaving you with a distant desire to study. You shuffle to your dorm, preparing to stare absentmindedly at a textbook, when your eyes fall over the emerald robe.

Hmm, you think. Should I? Or should I not? Well, he has been very weird. And you're overly curious. It's swallowing your life.

You sigh, picking it up and swinging it over your shoulders. You pull the hood up, slipping back out into the common room. The students continue their nightly games of Mafia. Not a single set of eyes shoot at you.

Breaking curfew is punishable by copious amounts of detention. Good thing you're invisible to the guard wandering the halls.

Sneaking into the Slytherin tower is rather easy, given the circumstances. The cobblestone corridor leads you to a darkened room emblazoned by the crackle of fire. A blond boy lays on the gray carpet, his eyes vacant as he blinks at the ceiling. His friend sits on a leather couch, shrugging as he says, "I don't know man, you've just been so weird lately."

Absently, the boy on the carpet mumbles, "Sorry, I guess."

"C'mon, talk to me. I'm your best friend, Hyunjin," Seungmin sighs. He rubs a distressed finger across his brow.

Hyunjin shakes his head. "There's just this weird feeling in my chest."

"What?" Seungmin leans forward on the couch, dangling his hand close to the boy's face.

He leans out of the way as he sits up, resting his palm on his heart. "I can't explain it. I feel full all of a sudden?"

"How long have you been like this?"

"Ever since the hippogriff situation."

Seungmin falls back against the plush of the couch. His mouth is agape until a smile creeps upon him and he laughs. "I hate to break this to you, Hyunjin, but I think you've developed a crush."

Your heart catches in your throat like a rock you're incapable of swallowing. It thrums louder than the conversation unfolding. Hyunjin's lips are loose as he glances around the room. His eyes sit on you a little too long, and you slowly back into the corridor.

What do you do with this information?

A harsh sneeze interrupts your slumber. You glance around through tired eyes. It's still dark in the room. Your roommate is snoring lightly.

You rest back onto the mattress, trying your hardest to dismiss a quiet cough. A bead of sweat trickles down your neck. Just what you need, you think as you shut your eyes. Maybe this is karma for sneaking into Hyunjin's space.

You hate the euphoria you experienced when you settled into bed that night. Heart a fluttering mess and cheeks pummeled with heat. Changbin would kill to hear this. Both ends. Regardless, though, you feel way too guilty to talk to Hyunjin. Some crushes are best suppressed, you think. A Slytherin-Gryffindor duo traditionally doesn't end well.

By the time you fall asleep, the sun has begun to rise. Then, by the time you wake up, the sun is ready to fall. You moan when your roommate asks if you're feeling alright. Her shivering hand comes in contact with your forehead. "Oh my God, you're burning up!"

You hiss, trying to pull your covers over your head. She tugs them back down.

"You should go to the infirmary," she says. "I'll help you there."

Hesitantly, you sit up. There's a sour taste in your mouth that burns the back of your throat. A quick palm jumps to your lips as you rush to the bathroom.

"Here," Jihyo comes close behind you. She offers a Ginger Ale.

"Thanks," you say, rubbing your mouth with the back of your hand. You take a quick swig of it, swishing it around before spitting it into the toilet.

Jihyo leads you out of the room with an arm around your shoulder. The common room is empty, aside from a few who sit behind vast textbooks. "Everyone's at dinner," she informs.

You don't have the energy to nod. It's hard enough trying to keep a straight path, even when you're leaning against her shoulder.

"Welcome back," the nurse jokes. You try to smile.

She takes your temperature after Jihyo tells her your situation. "Ooh. 101. Thank you for bringing them, sweetheart."

You take to a bed, slowly leaning to sit on it. Jihyo leaves shortly after, telling you to seek her if you need anything.

"How's your ankle doing?" the nurse asks as she offers you a cup of pills (a fever reducer and an anti inflammatory).

After you struggle to swallow them, you say (through a crackly voice), "Good, I guess. Still haven't gotten the story to it."

She presses her lips into a line, "That boy. I'll have to talk to him."

A strange light feeling punctures your heart. She pushes gently on your shoulders, forcing you to lie down. "Get some rest, dear."

Sleep comes very naturally. There's only a few moments where you struggle to return to it. The next day, the nurse brings you a cup of pudding for breakfast. You ask her what time it is.

"It's around 10. Monday."

You sigh. "I'm missing classes."

"I'm sure your professors won't mind, given you're still feverish," she checks your forehead with the back of her hand.

You eat the pudding in solidarity, watching the small TV across from you. It's displaying The Desperate Housewives of the Wizarding World. It's on all day, which is fine by you, since you're not leaving anytime soon. The final dismissal bell jumps you from your daze.

Only a few moments pass before the large doors swing, followed by the pattering of feet. "Y/N!"

Jisung rushes toward you, his burgundy robes trailing behind him. He pushes his round frames up. "Are you okay? I heard from Jihyo."

You nod. "Yeah, I feel a bit better now."

His hand finds your shoulder and he shakes you gently. "You're not going to believe this."

Your thoughts jump to Hyunjin and your eyes widen eagerly as you wait for him to continue.

"Hyunjin was whining all day about you. He was all 'where are they?' and stuff. Did something happen when McGonagall started that chore thing?"

You fight a grossly parasitical smile, shaking your head. "No. Nothing really."

He stays a little longer, telling you things you missed from the classes you share. As he's departing, you stop him. "Hey, Sung, I got a question."

He turns back to you. "Shoot."

"Can I borrow that magic note passing thing you bought on vacation?"

The good thing about Jisung is he doesn't ask questions. So long as you're not harming anyone, he'll do just about anything for you. He simply returns ten minutes later, gently placing the notepad on the table beside you. "You just write your note and address it. It should be sent immediately. Oh, and the other person receives a pen too," he informs, passing you a normal looking pen.

"Thank you, I owe you."

He waves his hand. "Nah, it's no big deal."

You pick up the pad of paper. It appears no different from normal paper, though it smells rather lemony. You rethink the words over and over before you finally settle. In the center of the paper, you write: I heard you missed me :)

Then, you address it before you can find a reason to regret this.

xi.

You cannot find yourself an ounce of sleep, so you stare at the television screen. It's still playing reruns. A paper fizzles into your lap, the corners materializing before the center. Your note reads back to you. You flip it over, where a new pattern of ink lay.

To Y/N: I'm going to murder Han Jisung.

Your laugh echoes in the large, empty infirmary. The nurse has gone to her quarters, now that the sun has set.

You write back, He has cool magic though!

Not only because it's true, but because you would like to keep this conversation going for just a little longer. Even if it is useless and greedy to want something like this from him.

Few seconds pass before the paper returns. To Y/N: I will give him that. I didn't even know this was a thing. Can we meet up in the Charms hall?

You bring your hand to your forehead. After Jisung's visit and your nutritious dinner of pudding, you feel much better. Like normal, even. Plus, the nurse had told you it's up to you when you want to return to daily life.

So you gather your things and return to your dorm. "Hi, Jihyo," you say quickly before rushing to shower. She is left in a dismal state of shock, staring at the bathroom door.

"I'm meeting up with someone, don't wait up for me," you inform as you pull a sweater on.

"Who?" she asks, bouncing her wand as she jiggles a paper midair.

You glance at her as you pull shoes on. "Classified info."

"Just say it's Hyunjin," she starts. "I can read you like a book."

You giggle. "Then fine, it's Hyunjin."

"Don't set the school on fire, please. I would like to finish my seventh year in peace."

"I don't plan on it."

"Be safe!" she calls as you open the door.

"I will."

You shuffle through the common room and out into the halls. Curfew was nearing. Maybe you should've grabbed your invisibility cloak.

In all honesty, you weren't sure why you were doing this. Until the glimmer of blond hair beneath the moonlight pierces your view. Knowing fills your chest, warm fairies dazzling your skin.

He looks up to you, a smile rushing onto his face. "I thought you weren't gonna show."

"Well, I suppose you're in luck."

He grabs your wrist when you're in reach, "Come on, I wanna show you something."

You allow him to pull you out to the courtyard. A little way's past the quidditch fields, there is a flower box. Filled to the brim with peonies and lilies. There's even a couple pink azaleas.

"Tada," he says, opening his arms to the post.

"You snuck me out of the castle to look at flowers?" you laugh.

"Not just any flowers," he points, crouching down to look at them. "Healing flowers."

"Really?" you inquire.

He looks up at you. Beneath the moonlight, his hair shines and his eyes twinkle amongst the stars. "Yeah. They heal everything."

"How do you even know about this?"

He shrugs, looking into the stamen of a certain peony. "My mom's a flower nerd. When she called most recently, she told me about this spot."

You crouch beside him, "Did she plant these?"

"Some of them. I think she likes azaleas, so probably those."

Your heart skips a beat. "Do you like the azaleas?"

"I-"

From behind you, a voice shouts, "Now I can't keep you away from each other?"

In sync, you look back. McGonagall is standing at the top of the hill, her arms crossed against her silk black robes. "Come on, you two, it's past curfew."

You dawdle up the hill, slightly limping on your ankle. You suppose you should have asked him about it.

When you meet McGonagall, she whispers, "By the way, I'm getting more eyes on you two. No more late night meetings."

xii.

The moon takes its reign in the sky, passing time as though it never wants to leave the throne. There's a waft of nutmeg traveling through the vents. Felix must be baking again.

The lamp on your bedside table clicks on. You look over to Jihyo, who is very much asleep. Her mouth hangs open and her limbs are flailed in varying directions.

A piece of paper forms against your chest. To Y/N: I'm sorry for getting you in trouble.

You shake your head, heart taking fire, as you search for a small piece of room to write: It's okay, I willingly went with you.

You wonder why he's awake. More importantly, why he's apologizing. He's never been one for owning up to anything, so why start now and here?

Within minutes, you receive the paper. To Y/N: I guess she can't police these notes haha

In return, you write: I hope not. Can you smell that nutmeg?

To Y/N: YES IT KEEPS TICKLING MY NOSE!!

To Hyunjin: It's probably just Felix, so I'm letting it slide this once.

To Y/N: Even then, I'm still considering killing him.

To Hyunjin: Same time you're gonna kill Jisung?

To Y/N: Yeah, actually. Thank you for reminding me.

You stifle a laugh, cautiously looking at Jihyo. She releases an abrupt snore, which stands in solitude.

To Hyunjin: Hey btw, do you know what happened to my ankle?

A few moments turn into minutes of twirling your thumbs for a response. The nutmeg retracts its intensity, leaving room for the Sandman to tarnish your eyes with the temptation of sleep. You grow tired of waiting, turning off your lamp and settling into the covers.

Morning comes, but the receiving message does not. You prepare for your day, following the stream of students to the dining hall. Hyunjin is already there, and his eyebags prove his late night. He looks up upon Seungmin's pointing, offering you a wave and a grin.

Nice Hyunjin is so weird.

You smile back. Changbin waits at the end of the food line by the time you get there. "Hey, heard you got caught with Hwang last night," he nudges your arm, raising his eyebrows.

"Nothing happened," you assure.

He nods, though he's not sure he believes you.

You grab a muffin and a carton of orange juice before following Changbin to Jisung, who is nursing a bowl of burnt oatmeal.

"How can you eat that shit?" Changbin grimaces.

You steal a glance in Hyunjin's direction. He's playing a rather intense game of rock, paper, scissors, with another Slytherin. After several rounds of ties, he finally beats the other with scissors. He pumps his balled fists into the air and laughs. His hair falls over his shoulders when he throws his head back.

He looks beautiful.

Maybe you were succumbing to the greed of this desire to be near him. So what if he was a Slytherin? He could be a Hufflepuff and no one would care if you two began seeing each other as more than friends. So why should anyone care if he's a Slytherin?

Jisung presses the tip of his wand against your cheek. "Hello?"

You hastily turn back to him, nearly redirecting his wand into your iris. He flinches back. "Zoned out much?"

"Sorry," you mumble, peeling the wrapper from your muffin.

"It's all good. I was asking if you're coming to Hogsmeade with us this weekend."

You tilt your head, as if the answer is teetering to one side of your brain. "I don't know."

"Come on," Changbin whines. "You've been so disconnected from us recently."

"Plus," Jisung adds, "This is gonna be the last weekend until April."

It's October. You sigh. "Fine. I suppose I'll tag along. But you guys are paying for butterbeer."

You probably would have gone anyway, despite how little you showed interest. Hearing their pitiful whines was just too fun.

"Good. Invite your boyfriend," Changbin nods to Hyunjin, who is walking down the aisle to get breakfast. He marks your gaze, turning a bit to come talk to you. A heat jumps to your chest, slowly rising to your face as he claims the seat beside you.

"Hi," he simpers, his eyes squinted and his teeth glimmering beneath the drowning sunlight.

"Hi," you return the expression. Not because you have to out of politeness, no, but because it's so hard not to.

"Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?" he asks, the smile quickly dissipating when he realizes Changbin is just over your shoulder. Eyes of a hawk, that one has.

You open your mouth to speak, but Changbin has already gathered his words. "Yes. They're coming with us."

You thrust your elbow back, nailing right between his ribs. He wheezes, doubling over. "Yeah, I'm going," you tell Hyunjin.

"Good. Meet me at the sweet shop around one," he pauses, turning to Jisung, "I won't keep them long. Promise."

Jisung shakes a free hand as he pools oatmeal onto his spoon, "No, it's fine. Take as long as you need."

Hyunjin smiles. "Nice. Okay, I'll see you later," he stands, patting your shoulder as he walks by.

"What a nice guy," Changbin manages with a smile, though he's still clutching his chest.

xiii.

His gaze is tilted upward as he watches the chocolate dragonflies dart to and fro across the ceiling. There's the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his lip. It twitches ever so slightly when a dragonfly threatens to sit on his nose.

"Hey," you greet. He jumps a little, turning to you. The chocolate bug has vanished, fluttering up to its haven.

"Oh, hi. I didn't think you'd get here so quick," he laughs.

You glance at your wrist. "It's 1:05."

He shrugs. "Aren't Gryffindors normally late?"

"Aren't Slytherins not the type to wait around for a Gryffindor?" you retaliate.

He nods, pointing a finger at you as his eyebrows furrow. "Touche."

He buys you a chocolate frog, despite your complaints that you could pay for your own. "No, no, it's on me," he insisted, shoving his money into the cashier's palm before you can say much else.

You perch atop floating stools, staring at him as he tries to wrangle his frog. His mouth hangs open with anticipation as he tries to guide it there. There's a tug at your chest that compels you to smile.

"So why'd you want to meet with me? I thought you were still in your sulky phase," you tease.

He looks up at you. There's a film of innocence to them. For a moment, you forget his reputation. He blinks, summoning a twinkle to the corner of his right eye. "I wanted to ask you for some advice," he finally says, rather confidently. His posture straightens and a cocky smile finds his lips. The Hyunjin you know.

"You didn't knock a girl up, did you? Because I will not be helping you get out of that one. You may be cool, but not that cool," you ramble.

His frog jumps from his palm, hopping away into the niche of chocolate animals with a poised ribbit. Hyunjin rolls his eyes, though a contradicting smile forms. "I was looking for this spell."

You lean closer, interested. "And? Which one?"

"Amortentia."

You pull back. That's a love potion. "Why would you need that?"

He sucks air in through his teeth, glancing away as he informs, "Well, I wanted to use it on you, but I thought maybe it's best not to drug you."

You laugh despite the thundering of your chest. Your fingers find the corner of a Wizard

Card, routinely picking at it to distract yourself. Hesitantly, you mumble,"What are you trying to say here?"

"God, Gryffindors are so dense," he throws his head back, a bubbling laugh bursting into

the air.

"No, I just want to hear you say it."

He groans, gaze slipping back to yours, "I like you a little bit."

"A little bit?" you challenge, recalling his fit in the Slytherin common room.

Hyunjin rests his arms on the table as he leans closer to you, your noses nearly touching. "It sounds like someone told you something. You don't seem very surprised," he hesitates before adding a quiet, "or appalled."

His lips are so close to yours. You can smell his green apple chapstick. You find yourself at a loss for words, for his lips keep your gaze. Oh, what the hell. You close the gap between you, allowing your lips to mingle for a few seconds before pulling away. There's a small giggle to your words as you say, "You're not good at hiding your emotions, Hwang Hyunjin. Aren't Slytherins supposed to be good at stuff like that?"

He scoffs. "Aren't Gryffindors supposed to be noble? You snuck into the Slytherin common room!"

"How'd you know?"

He chuckles, "Your shoulder kinda slipped out of the cloak."

This takes a minute to process. It seems like your usage of the invisibility cloak will now be put on hold. You can only look at the oak table, lips pursed in a disappointing defeat.

You rotate your ankles in small circles when you remember. "Hey, by the way, why was my ankle all messed up? You never answered my letter."

"Seungmin came in," he grabs your hand. "But when I was carrying you back to the castle I may have been a little careless and let your ankle run through a bush of thorns."

You smack his arm with your free hand, mouth agape. "You what?"

"It was an accident! I'll make it up to you," he promises.

"How so?"

He draws your lips to his for a quick peck. "What do you want?"

You think, squinting. "Hmm. I can get anything?"

"Within reason," he declares. "I'm not buying you a unicorn or anything."

You shake your head, for what you want is much more simple. "Can we go on cute dates?"

He hums, interlacing your fingers. "Of course."

"Oh! And we have to go to the Yule Ball together-"

"Sure."

"But we're wearing Gryffindor colors."

He drops your hand, pulling away as if your fingertips scalded him. "Absolutely not."

"C'mon, you owe me."

"Not that much. Your ankle will heal. My pride, however, will not."

You sigh. "Fine, we can settle for non-house colors."

"Deal."

xiv.

"I saw him playing with your fingers," Changbin shakes you vehemently after you sit down at the dining table.

"Why won't you let this go?" you ask.

"Well, you see, when a guy who traditionally hates someone randomly asks them to hang out, their friends should be a little concerned."

You look to Jisung, who is more interested in his soup. "Did you watch us too?" you ask.

He barely looks up. "No, I was at the book shop—I think."

You turn back to Changbin, though he's already shaking his hands in defense. "No, the difference between me and Jisung is-"

"That Jisung's smarter than you?" Hyunjin appears, sitting on the bench beside you.

"Yeah, I think it's that," you nod, sharing his smirked gaze.

"No," Changbin defends, "Jisung is only concerned for physical wellbeing after the fact. I care prior to the event happening."

"If we all lived your way, we'd be sheltered," Jisung adds, twirling his spoon.

They dive into a heated discussion bordering an argument. Hyunjin wraps his arm around you, and the sounds of Changbin whining fades to black. You look up at him, "Shouldn't you be sitting with Seungmin?"

He shakes his head. "I got banished for talking too much about you."

You roll your eyes. "Don't sacrifice your friends because of me."

"Hey, you're the one who makes me this way. If I could not be 'Y/N would like this' every time I saw anything that even remotely reminded me of you, trust me, I would."

"Do you really do that?"

"Any time I see flowers," he sheepishly admits. He catches glimpses of the flower beds every day, nearly four times. Sometimes five if he sneaks out to see you.

You chuckle. "Just say you're in love with me, geez."

"I don't want to inflate your ego," he kisses your temple.

A stray comment from Changbin floats into your bubble, "Gross!"

"Speaking of egos, do you have your suit for the ball?" you ask, pushing your spoon into the sea of spinach and kale.

"I guess I should tell my mom about that," he mumbles.

"Hyunjin! The ball is in a week!"

"Yeah, and I also need to tell her we're dating," he laughs dryly, suddenly absorbed with something down the aisle.

You shrug his arm off of your shoulder. "What? It's been nearly a month!"

He looks back at you as if you're arguing over spilled milk. "Life at the Hwangs is very hectic, okay?"

"He's lying," Changbin says. "They only see each other, pay the kids, and leave."

Hyunjin looks ready to punch the sly grin off of his face. Instead, he pats your thigh. "I'll call her tonight."

xv.

He calls to you from across the bustling room. You stand in awe as your eyes lay upon the black velvet of his blazer. In the chest pocket is a red and gold handkerchief, folded to perfection.

"You look great," he simpers, eyes slipping from your exposed collarbone down to the dark green fabric that expands out from your blanketed feet.

He wraps an arm around your waist, whispering, "You're wearing my color."

Butterflies take reign over your stomach, swarming out in packs. You grow shy as he pulls away.

"You look stunning," he presses a soft kiss on your lips.

He drags you over to Seungmin, who chats with Minho in carefully structured quips.

Seungmin takes a long look at your gown, smiling as he comments, "Slytherin colors."

"You know," Hyunjin turns to you, "I was going to get a red suit but they were incredibly ugly so I'm settling for a handkerchief."

You smile up at him, "It's okay, the sentiment is there."

Minho dismisses himself when he spots a cat swaying between dancing feet. Its eyes are wide with fright as it stares up at the unfamiliar faces in search of its owner. Seungmin smiles fondly as he watches the boy pick up the cat, delicately taking it out of the room.

"Where are Thing One and Thing Two?" Hyunjin inquires, leaning against the bar.

You scan the hall. "I'm not sure. Changbin said he'd be here. Jisung might skip out."

Seungmin laughs unexpectedly, receiving a few confused glares in return. He soon clarifies after taking a sip of water, "I was thinking about Changbin having a date. Weird."

He certainly doesn't have a date. When he arrives, the ball is nearly over and his tie is messily made up.

"Did you get dressed in the dark?" Seungmin stares as he approaches.

"Yes, actually. Long story."

A slower song comes on. It's a change in scenery from the previous publike songs. Hyunjin offers you his hand, dramatically asking, "May I have this dance?"

Your hand slips into his, "You may."

He guides you to an empty spot near the edges of the dance crowd, swiftly tucking his arms around your waist. You nestle yours around his neck. For a few seconds, you stare into his big brown eyes, watching as the twinkle shifts in the light. You fight a smile.

"What's the smile for?"

"Nothing," you say, pressing your cheek to his chest so you can grin in peace.

He sighs, though a vibration in his chest tells you he's also laughing. "I know we tease each other a lot, but I love you."

Your heart skips a beat and your breath clogs up in your throat, though your smile never falters. Each day that has passed, it has grown harder to fight saying those words. When you return them, you feel lighter. As though you have relinquished thirty pounds from your shoulders.

"Don't tell anyone I'm getting sappy with a Gryffindor," he fake gags.

"Same to you, snake."

You smile in these moments. With music guiding your feet and a boy who warms your heart, despite his stereotypically shivering attributes. He rests his chin atop your head as he repeats those cursed words, grounding you with him more and more each time. He's yours. And you're his.

Perhaps it's always been that way.

#bandaigaeru #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin skz #hyunjin stray kids #stray kids imagine #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin au #skz au #stray kids au #skz imagine #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids hyunjin #skz hyunjin #slytherin hyunjin

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mystic-sky · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! Gojo Saturo’s birthday is in a few days and may I request a fan fic where the reader surprise him with a cake in sexy bunny outfit in mesh stockings? (I’m currently watching the anime Rascal Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Senpai) and the idea came up when I saw the outfit hehe love you!

Hi!! I love that anime! Sorry for the late post love, but it’s still an hour before his birthday ends where I live 💕✨ I didn’t know if you wanted food play with the cake??? It mostly focuses around the outfit. Enjoy.

Warnings: Just Birthday NSFW

Word Count: 2.0K

Sometimes when you start dating someone, you find yourself doing things you never figured you’d be into. Your boyfriend was a man of many kinks, slowly introducing you to things and helping you flesh out your own sexual desires. Not only did you try new things for him because you loved him, but you trusted him so much each time afterwards because it was all so enjoyable.

Months before his birthday, he sparked an idea. You were in the kitchen, fixing dinner for the both of you.

“A bunny girl outfit?” You question, shifting your stance a bit. In the few years you had been dating, Satoru had never touched on role play or dress up before.

“Yes~” He sung. “Like that one anime, do you know it?”

You nodded, feeling a bit tense. Could you pull something like that off?

You set your cooking ladle down. “When my birthday comes I’m gonna make you do something even crazier.”

The look on Satoru’s face was one of intrigue, but there was a splash of fear in the corners of his pupils. You had always managed to be exceptionally good at pleasing him. He hoped what you had in mind wouldn’t be too crazy, although he was down for anything.

He spent the rest of that evening leaning on the kitchen counter and trying to get you to confess if you had been agreeing to wear the bunny outfit and what were you bargaining for.

When his birthday came months later, you took your chances at the costume store. You knew he’d forgotten all about the idea since you never gave him a forward answer. You took advantage of this, and waited until the day of to go shopping. You bought multiple sizes to be sure you got the best fitting one, since you were rushing to make it home before Satoru. You stood in your apartment hallway, swaying in the mirror.

The things I do for him, you think.

Looking at yourself from head to toe, you were almost upset that the smug bastard knew you’d look good in a bunny outifit. You looked over your shoulder at your backside.

“This things lifts your butt so well.” You felt so sexy, more confidence than you had imagined passed over your body.

You make haste towards the living room, eagerly placing the candles on top of the cake you had bought earlier on the coffee table. You could hear him turning the keys in the door behind you. He was greeted by your fluffy, white bunny tail and big juicy bottom.

“Woah, you actually did it.” You jumped a bit as he swung the door open. “I have to admit, seeing you on your knees as soon as I get home is always a treat.”

You bring yourself to your feet, lighter in hands. You flash him a warm smile.

“Welcome back,” you say.

“Oh I feel welcomed,” he begins, walking towards you to take you in with his eyes. He sets his sunglasses on the side table beside the couch.

“Ah-ah-ah-” you begin. “Go wash your hands!”

He holds his hands up in defense. “Will do m’lady.”

You turn backwards, opening the packaging on the new lighter you bought. You bent over, continuing to intently space out the candles for him. You quickly clicked towards the kitchen to grab the wine and some glasses. You set them both down beside the cake as you struggled to open the bottle.

You felt his presence behind you as you swung yourself around.

“I figured we could have a bit of fun before dinner.” You say, pressing the wine bottle to your breasts. You patted the one-person sofa beside you. You watched him pull his lip between his teeth as he giddily sat down, spreading his legs. You poured him a glass, watching him sip as he eyeballed you.

“I feel like I’ve got my own little personal play boy bunny.”

“Just for tonight,” you said, placing the bottle on the table.

“Does that mean I can have anything I want?”

“Don’t I spoil you enough?” You raise a brow, adjusting the cuffs around your wrists.

“I’m sort of a bottomless pit. I’m always up for more.” He says slyly, pulling you between his legs.

“Turn around for me,” he says, fingers just barely holding the tips of your own. You smile, spinning your body so he could see your butt.

“Baby... I know it was sort of my idea, but just how am I going to fuck you in this thing. It’s so fucking tight.”

You felt him playing and flicking the tail of your costume whilst his other hand cupped your ass cheek above the mesh stockings.

“I’ve got buttons...” you say shyly, bending over for him to see the thick clothed part of your core.

“Ohh~ how convenient.” He sung, sliding and pressing a finger against your hot clothed sex. You shuddered a bit, before standing up straight and turning around.

“This is truly a treat, sweetheart.” He brought his large hands up to caress the back of your thighs. “It’s taking a lot for me to not pounce on you right now.”

You could tell he was enjoying the sight of you.

“Don’t fret, I’ll wear it a little while longer.” You assure him, falling to your knees. You loosely bring your fingers up to his white dress shirt, loosening his tie and a few buttons as well.

“I hope you weren’t planning on wearing this to dinner.” You say, dragging your fingers down the exposed part of his chest.

“Just how messy are we about to get, honey?” He smirked.

You only stare at him, feeling his chest up some more. He smiles back before taking up the glass beside him on the end table, taking a sip while he sits back and looks at you. He watches you feel against the bulge in his suit pants. He takes a brief look at his watch before looking back at you.

“Dinner’s at 8.”

He watched you unbuckle his pants and pull his length out in front of you. You brought the tip to your mouth before speaking.

“I’ve got time.” You swallow him whole, feeling him shift in the chair. He’s holding back a groan, having not expected you to take him in so deeply right off the bat.

“You just threw your gag reflex out the window, huh?” He managed to say.

You released your mouth, bunny ears flopping back while you bobbed your head on the tip alone. You swirled your tongue around him, shutting him up immediately.

He set the glass down, and rested his fingers in your hair.

“What a sweet girl, spoiling Daddy like this on his birthday.”

You take hold of his base, stroking in tune with your sucking while he shifted beneath you. You could feel yourself getting wet as his moans filled the space in the living room. You hummed against his length, tongue sending vibrations through his shaft and his body. You released him from your mouth, jerking him whilst you attached your lips to his balls. You sucked softly, swirling your hot tongue over the soft skin.

He lost it from this unfortunately, shooting loads out onto your hand without warning. You quickly took the tip of his length back into your mouth, sucking the remnants of his orgasm from the source.

“Fuck~” He shuddered. So much semen filled your mouth and you swallowed what you could as the rest of it slipped down your chin and onto your breasts.

You let go of his length with a popping noise.

“How long were you holding that in?” You asked him, licking your fingers. He loved watching you do that.

“Long enough,” he said, cocking his head back. “Now come sit on it for me.”

Your body was ready. You could feel your nipples getting irritatingly hard as they pressed against the firm fabric of the suit. You unbuttoned the bottom piece of it as you climbed on top of him.

“And now...“ He gripped your ass cheeks. “...to unwrap you.”

You felt him claw your mesh stockings with both hands, ripping them so wide and way beyond wearing them ever again.

“Satoru!” You whined. You owned plenty of black stockings, but that didn’t mean he could just rip them as he pleased.

“Ah-ah-ah, it’s my birthday, remember?” He mimicked. You held your tongue.

“How could I forget...” you mutter, positioning yourself above his length. He squeezed your exposed cheeks so hard you probably bruised.

“You’re so cute when you talk under your breath like that.” He teased.

“Shut up,” you say, holding his length as you slide onto it. He bites back a moan as you coat his dick with so much slick his pants started getting stained. “And keep your hands to yourself.”

“Mhnnngh...” He bit his lip. “Fuck- sweetheart I can’t make any promises.”

You only smile at him, fighting back your own moans as you rock against him. He releases his grip on you like you asked, placing his hands on both arm rests and watching you start to bounce on his length. You rest your arms on his shoulders, throwing your head back, bunny ears flopping erratically. He watched your breasts shake about, suit almost exposing your nipples to the air.

Watching you ride him like that made it hard for him to keep his hands to himself. He would often have to force himself into being sub when you got on top like that. He claimed it was part of making you feel like you were truly dominating him every once in a while. You were just the cutest, and you were wearing this costume just for him. He wanted you to have your moment.

“Just like that baby,” he hummed. He felt your hand clutch his jaw, pressing a hot kiss to his wine stained lips. He moaned against you, finally wrapping his arms around you.

“You know I can’t help myself, and it’s my birthday~” He says against your lips.

You rolled your eyes, kissing him deeper. He hummed against you, sliding his body down in his seat.

“You know, speaking of my birthday, you haven’t said it since this morning.” He said smugly, pushing your body upwards. He starts thrusting into you from underneath, earning broken and sloppy moans from you.

“Won’t you tell me again, pretty please?”

He was mocking you. He knew you weren’t capable of saying it- at least not coherently and definitely not when he was pumping you so quickly and so deeply like that. You were nearing an orgasm, and your heels were slipping off your feet while he was at work against you.

“Honey, I’m waiting. Say it.” He hummed. Somehow he said it so seriously you didn’t want to test him further.

“H-Hap...Hap-py B-Birthday.” You moaned brokenly as he pounded into you.

“Such a sweet girl. That wasn’t hard at all, was it? Now let it all out.”

His thick length throbbed against your walls. While you climaxed around him, both your heels hit the carpet with a thud as you cried out his name.

The best but worst part about sex with Satoru is that you’d never get used to how he’d overstimulate you every time you came. Sure you always get to ride your orgasm out, but you’d be quivering, and barely put together the whole time until he came. Just like now, you had melted into him, gripping and wrinkling the collars of his dress shirt, voice cracking against his ears as he came inside you. He had filled you up, overflowing his semen and spilling onto his pants. He shuddered, chest rising and falling against your breasts.

You both stayed there like that for a bit, gathering yourselves.

“I’ve got more for you after we get home from dinner.” He said as you sat up above him.

“You’ll be pushing your third orgasm. You sure you got juice left?” You say smugly.

“Oh, always.” He grinned.

And so much for the cake.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo smut #gojo sensei #jjk #jjk gojo #jjk x reader

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alltoolewis · 3 years ago

Note

Can you do a Marcus Rashford imagine where you're married and get along fine with everyone in his family except one of his sister's. Marcus' mum had called you all over for a girls lunch. Usually the air between you and his sister is just tense and you tend to keep it in whenever she says something to annoy you which is what you do during lunch too but let's just say today wasn't one of those days and she really grinds your bone this time and you decide you've had enough and shady comment back before excusing yourself, apologising to Marcus' mum before leaving. When Marcus gets home later on in the day, turns out he's already found out that you and his sister had a little disagreement. He's aware that you both don't get along so it wasn't a surprise. He comes home and you speak to him about it, him listening intently and trying to understand why you both can't get along. Even Marcus' comforting doesn't help, you feel frustrated by the situation and can't help the tears from welling up and he instantly pulls you into his chest and tries to make you feel better.

I didn't realise how much I wrote until I finished writing sorry lol.

Thank you.

This could of been a blurb itself hehe! Thank you so much for requesting ✨

-------

"Do i look like a puff pastry?" You yelled to your boyfriend who was was preoccupied by his PS5 rather than your 'very important' fashion show

"Huh?" Marcus laughed looking over to find your anxious stated looking in the mirror "what sort of question is that?"

Sighing you made your way over to your shared ben throwing your self next to your very amused partner!

"I just want to make a good impression!" You sighed snuggling your way into marcus chest

"Baby they already love you! You've met them loads of times!" Marcus pulled you deeper in his chest, if that was possible as he felt you shake.

"Okay i know Tara's very rude to you.... i dont know why okay! But ignore her baby.. please just go out and have a nice time, relax okay because whether she likes it or not your gonna be her sister in law"

Pecking his lips, you silently nodded, before getting out of his embrace. Preparing yourself for a very tense girls dinner date... but to your suprised you weren't prepared for the worst.

----

As soon as you arrived things were already super tense. It was just any normal rashford family outing. His mum, melanie and sister in law, emma constantly trying to kill the tension, however no matter how hard they tried, the tension wasn't going anywhere!

"Not long yet then (y/n) till you officially become a rashford" melanie screeched, grabbing your hand causing tara to roll her eyes.

"I know urmm.. 1 month left to go i think" you stutted, taras constant stares and eye rolls slowly starting to set off your anxiety.

"Wowww you sound so excited" tara tutted "tara enough" his mum warb3d clearly seeing how stressed you have become.

"Its okay mel!" You whispered, giving her a small smile.

"I am so excited tara!" You smiled at your clearly unamused soon to be sister in law "however I can't lie i am pretty nervous, marriage is a huge step.. the next step in our relationship. I know you've never gone beyond the talking stage, but once you finally meet someone and you get married, you'll understand why I'm nervous"

Smiling to yourself as you see Tara's shocked expression, clearly taken back at your sudden burst of confidence. Emma and melanie feeling very proud that you finally stuck up for yourself after years of Tara's bullying behaviour.

However the victory didn't last long....

As soon as you picked up your glass of red wine, tara nudged your leg from under the table, causing you to let out a gasp as the substance soaked into your all white playsuit.

"Oh noooo what are shame" tara sarcastically whined "oh well atleast marcus can pay for it to be cleaned... hes use to paying for everything anyway! Girls like you cant even afford there own rent nevermind dry cleaning"

Without saying a word, you quietly grabbed your bag, giving mel and emma a small tear stained smile. You excused yourself from the lunch. You always knew tara disliked you because of your past. Your parents barley had anything, you didnt get as many opportunities as the average child does. Every step of your career has come with challenges... challenges that you had to overcome yourself. You wanted to be proud of your roots however it was hard to be proud of something that alot of people shooted down.

--------

When marcus returned home from training he knew exactly where he'd find you. His mum already giving him the rundown of todays events, wanting him to make sure your okay after her daughters horrid words. Opening your bedroom door he found you wrapped in one of his jumpers, watching reruns of greys anatomy.

Climbing in next you he istanly pullz you into his chest, letting you let out all of your frustration. His heart breaking at each little hiccup as you struggled to find the right words to express whats happened. He never imagined his sister taking it this far, but all knew from holding your shaking state in his arms is that he needed to have a stern word with his sister. Makin sure she knows how much shes not only hurting you but also him.

--------

Requests are open! Who i write for is on my masterlist in my bio ✨

#marcus rashford blurbs #marucs rashford blurb #marcus rashford

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hercleverboy · 4 years ago

Text

jealous

spencer reid x reader

summary ↠ spencer comes to terms with the fact that the reader will never love him the way he loves her.

category ↠ angst

warnings/includes ↠ heartbreak, unrequited love.

word count ↠ 2.6k

“But I always thought you’d come back, tell me that all you found was heartbreak and misery.” — Jealous by Labrinth

‘I'm jealous of the rain

That falls upon your skin

It's closer than my hands have been

I'm jealous of the rain’

Spencer loved the rain.

Well, not exactly. He loved to watch how it fell from the grey, angry clouds above as he sat warm and cosy in his apartment. He loved the rain if he was safe inside. He wouldn’tlike to get caught in a downpour, however.

He watched contently as the droplets fell against the window, staining the glass and jarring his view of the street below. It made him feel peaceful, and he would argue that there was no better sound to read to than that of the rain.

His focus dropped from the copy of ‘War and Peace’ in his hands, his mind focused on something else entirely.

Not so much something but someone.

Y/N had been Spencer’s closest friend for years at that point, having met him a few months after he’d started working at the BAU.

They spent pretty much any moment they could together. Spencer took her to museum exhibits and art galleries and she would listen intently as he rambled. He’d always stop mid-sentence and blush, apologising for getting ahead of himself but she’d simply smile and shake her head.

“You don’t ever have to apologise for sharing your wonderful knowledge with me, Spence. You know I could listen to you all day,” She’d say, “Keep going, please?”

He never could say no to her.

If there was anyone in the world he felt most comfortable with, it was her. She never ridiculed him or babied him like the team had a habit of doing. If there was a case that ended poorly she never pushed for him to confide in her, giving him the time and space to disclose his feelings when he was ready (something he was incredibly grateful for.)

For a long while, things were strictly platonic for Spencer. One day she was his best friend, the person he felt the most himself around, and the next day it was something more. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment in which his feelings for her changed, or what had caused them too. Since when had her welcoming hugs begun feel so warm? At what point had her giggle caused the butterflies in his stomach that he’d only ever read of in great poetry or love stories?

He tried to push the feelings away, he really did, but ultimately his attempts to avoid his newfound affection for her were fruitless. Nothing could be done, he finally had to face the facts. He was in love with her. In love with every adorable quirk, every smile, and every part of her; even the parts she deemed unworthy and ugly, he loved them all the same.

He wanted her to be his so badly.

There was only one slight problem.

Y/N wasn’t his to have. She had a boyfriend, a long term one at that. She was in a committed relationship with a man that wasn’t Spencer and he’d still allowed himself to fall in love with her.

Nice one, Spencer.

Spencer looked up at the clouds above him, frowning at the sight of the different shades of grey they were. He looked over at Y/N who walked alongside him. He’d gotten them tickets to a Russian Film festival, and he’d insisted she went with him so he could do a simultaneous whisper translation while they watched.

“It looks like it’s going to rain.” He broke the comfortable silence between them, his voice wavering slightly.

She looked up, a grin coming to her lips at the sight. “I hope it does, you know I like the rain.”

He chuckled lightly at that. “I do too! But who wants to be caught in it and end up soaking wet?”

She gasped in mock hurt. “I’m sorry Mr. 187, maybe I want to get caught in the rain, like a scene in some cheesy rom-com.”

He shook his head at her, his gaze dropping back down to look at the pavement beneath them.

Then the downpour started, just as Spencer had predicted. The rain was heavy and cold, essentially soaking them in seconds.

Spencer ducked under nearby shelter, pulling his coat tighter around him. He looked back over at Y/N, surprised to find her stood out in the rain, her arms outstretched and a grin on her lips.

“Y/N! What are you doing? You’re gonna get cold!” He shouted out, trying to make himself heard over the loud pelts of rain.

“I’ll be fine!” She called back.

“You know there’s a widespread myth that you lose the most body heat through your head. Studies have actually concluded that you only lose about ten percent of heat through your head.” Spencer shouted, and she turned to him with a smile, one that dismissed his facts. “You’re not even wearing a jacket, Y/N!”

“You know as well as I do, Doctor, that there’s no direct correlation between the rain and getting sick, so don’t even try that with me.”

“You’re right, but there’s a very real chance of hypothermia. Actually, last year it was reported that approximately 700 people in the US died of hypothermia-”

“Spence!” She grinned, politely interrupting his statistics. “Come join me! Live a little!”

He shook his head adamantly. “I’m okay, thank you. But you carry on.”

He watched on in awe at the sight before him. He pushed all the statistics on the probability of her getting sick to the back of his head, focused on how she looked it that moment. Her body was lit only by pale moonlight and dim streetlamps, but Spencer thought she’d never looked more beautiful.

He should’ve told her, then. Should’ve told her how much he loved her, how he could give her everything she craved, more than her boyfriend ever could. He wondered how he would put into words that he’d find a way to give her the world if she asked for it.

But he said nothing.

He could envision himself saying it.

He allowed himself to dream of speaking the words, how her face would light up and he’d finally get to hold her the way he yearned to. He thought of how proud Garcia would be of him since she’d practically been begging him to make a move ever since she learned of the situation. (” It’s not that simple, Garcia. She has a boyfriend!” “That’s a minor detail, Reid!”)

He could picture himself saying the words. He could see how she’d look over at him with those adorably furrowed brows and stunning eyes. The rain would pour over them like in the scene from Pride and Prejudice, as he finally dared to say the words he’d held onto for so very long.

‘I love you, most ardently.’

His very own Elizabeth Bennet.

But he said nothing.

Instead, when she came back over to him, her figure shivering as the cold finally set in, he simply offered her a cheeky grin. A simple look that said, ‘I told you so’. He quickly shrugged off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders, waving off her protests that he was going to get cold now.

As if that mattered, as long as she was warm.

Any attempt to sleep seemed useless. No matter how many poems he read to himself in his mind, sleep simply wasn’t coming. With a frustrated huff he moved to lie on his back, staring up at the ceiling defeatedly. Although he wished it wouldn’t, his mind travelled to Y/N. His heart lurched and just the thought of her, accompanied by the newest of the plethora of emotions he was feeling- jealousy. He wondered if her boyfriend knew just how lucky he was to be lying next to her, to have the privilege of holding her close, of telling her he loved her.

Spencer wasn’t a possessive man, he knew very well that Y/N didn’t belong to him, nor did she belong to anyone. She wasn’t an object to be had, and Spencer would never treat her as such. However, he found himself wishing to a being he wasn’t sure he believed in that she would be his. Perhaps it was selfish and wrong, to hope that she’d turn up heartbroken on his doorstep so that he could pick up the pieces of her broken by another man. It was definitely selfish to wish her so much heartache so that he could ultimately get what he wanted.

He recognised that she didn’t owe him anything. She didn’t owe him her love in return for his. But that almost made it worse; that this situation was nobody’s fault. It wasn’t Y/N’s fault for not returning his affections, nor was it her boyfriends’. It wasn’t Spencer’s fault either, he knew that deep down. He knew that no matter how many times he wished he’d told her sooner, before another man had swept her away, it wouldn’t have changed her feelings for him.

It almost brought him to tears. It’d be easier, he thought, easier if she did something that made me hate her. But he didn’t hate her, he didn’t think he ever could. He loved her more than he’d ever loved anyone or anything and there no words to describe the burning pain in his chest as the realisation that he was all alone dawned on him.

Y/N didn’t love him. At least, not in the way he wanted her too.

He could almost kid himself into thinking that she was going to knock on his door, tell him she’d left her boyfriend and confess her love for him. It was silly, and really doing him more damage than good to indulge in this self-serving fantasy he’d created, but it was the only thing that gave him enough peace to finally fall into slumber.

He nearly said it one day.

It was a Friday evening, and they were sat together at his apartment, having just finished watching a bunch of films. Y/N was mid-tangent about an interesting fan theory she’d read up on, while Spencer sat next to her trying to clear his thoughts.

His mind was screaming at him, this is it, it said, this is your chance. He knew it was selfish, quite possibly the most selfish thing he’d ever do. Especially when she was with someone else, the man she was building a life with- and Spencer was going to tear it all down with three simple words.

The most selfish thing he’d ever do.

And some part of him, some silly, hopelessly romantic part of him told him she wasn’t going to reject him. No, instead, she would admit she loved him too- and everything would be okay. Right?

“Y/N I-“ He interrupted her, and she looked over surprised as she stopped talking. She took in his tone of voice; how pained it sounded. She watched at how he cringed for interrupting her, his trembling hands coming to clutch fistfuls of his beige coloured cardigan in a nervous attempt to calm himself.

He evidently had something he needed to get off his chest.

“Yeah, Spence?” She prodded when he didn’t speak.

“I- I have to tell you something, something I should’ve told you a long time ago.” He rushed out, his voice shaking. He knew he’d have to force himself to say the words. He told himself to stop thinking so hard and just say them, because he knew all too well that he wouldn’t get the opportunity again.

“Okay. It’s okay, take your time. It’s just me.”

“I-I” He stuttered, trying to force the three simple words to leave his lips but he couldn’t seem to do it. He desperately wanted to, and it ached because he could feel them on the tip of his tongue.

Then his eyes met hers, and he stopped. His brain seemed to grant him a moment of clarity among the chaos and overwhelming thoughts. He tried to profile her, to use what he knew about human behaviour and how he’d read once that the eyes were the windows to the soul. He recalled how happy she always was when she spoke of her boyfriend, and Spencer couldn’t deny that from what he’d heard, he treated her well. Like she deserved. It shattered his heart all over again, but how could he sit there and tear away the happiness of the woman he loved? He knew what him confessing would do to her. She’d go into overdrive trying to compensate for not feeling the same, overexert herself trying to be the greatest friend she could be — and all the while she’d smile, as though the knowledge that she’d (unintentionally) hurt her best friend wasn’t killing her inside.

He couldn’t do that to her.

Not as he stared at her now, her worried eyes on him as she tried to figure out how to help him.

He couldn’t hurt her like that.

Spencer would hurt himself a hundred times over if it meant she was unharmed. He supposed that was what the meaning of love really was. Sacrificing yourself for the one you love.

He gave a sad smile and shook his head. “Um, you know what? It’s nothing.”

Her eyebrows knitted together as she scoffed. “Seriously? You’re gonna leave me hanging like that?” Her tone was amused although she feigned disappointment.

“Guess so.” He forced a chuckle, and Y/N opened her mouth to speak before the sound of her phone ringing cut through the air. She looked over at it, a small smile reaching her features at the sight of the name that flashed across the screen.

“Is that your boyfriend calling?” Spencer asked quietly.

She nodded. “I’ll tell him to call back later.” She moved her hand to click decline but Spencer’s voice stopped her.

“No. It’s okay. You should answer it now, it might be important.”

She seemed hesitant but nodded nonetheless, moving a few paces away from him before answering and talking softly into the phone. A few minutes later she hung up.

“Everything okay?” Spencer questioned.

She hummed. “Of course. He just wanted to know if I wanted to grab dinner with him, but I told him I’ve got plans with you-”

“No- no- you should go. With him.” Spencer breathed out.

“Are you sure? I thought we were gonna order in from that Chinese place you love?”

He gave her a small shrug. “We can take a rain check. You should go, I-I wouldn’t want you to be late for dinner.”

She frowned over at him, pocketing her phone as she moved closer to him. She clasped his shoulders in her hands and pulled her to him in a hug. He tensed at the initial contact, but eventually he relaxed into her hold and wrapped his arms around her.

“You know you can tell me anything?” She promised, her voice soft, warm.

“I know.” His voice broke, and his throat burned with the sob he was holding back.

She pulled back, concern on her features as she hesitantly let go of him. She promised she would give him a call later that evening before leaving the apartment.

Spencer stood for a moment; eyes fixated on the door as it closed behind her.

He wondered how he was ever going to move on from her, from the dreams of a future that was so close but just barely out of reach.

Ultimately, he wasn’t jealous of the man who got to have her.

He was jealous of the fact that she was happy because he could only wish that he was happy too.

‘It's hard for me to say, I'm jealous of the way

You're happy without me’

permanant taglist; @beyonces-breastmilk @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @thelovelyrose @averyhotchner @cynbx @calm-and-doctor @reidyoulikeabook @ssa-m-187

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #mgg x reader #mgg #criminal minds #spencer x y/n

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inkformyblood · 3 years ago

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we should have a land of joy

Day 02: AU (Modern Setting & Farm/Ranch)

Obi-Wan arrives at his grandfather's old farm, half-lost in grief and with his two new wards, unsure of what he is going to do. Luckily, his strangely familiar neighbour has a plan and offers to help, which Obi-Wan accepts.

Pairing: Codywan, Obi-Wan & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Cody Fett & Boba Fett

@codywanweek

Obi-Wan hefted the cardboard box up further in his slipping grip, wincing at the ominous rattle from inside. The edge pressed into his stomach for a moment before he shifted it to rest against the jut of his hip. His arms ached, muscles he had forgotten about since his university days protesting at the sudden exertion, but he ignored them, staggering forward the last few steps to set it down amongst the others.

Pressing his hand against the small of his back, Obi-Wan leant backwards with a groan, hearing the bones shift and pop. His gaze landed on a spiderweb strung high in the corner of the room, illuminated by the weak sunlight that managed to break through the thin film of grime on the windows.

This wasn’t the house he remembered from his childhood, the memories worn and fragmented, but it was his now. His heart shuddered as the now-familiar wave of grief crashed over him, tears biting at the corners of his eyes and a scream bubbling up his throat. It was all he could do to let the feeling wash over him, turning to look around the room through the film of tears rather than let himself drown.

The farmhouse was in better condition than he had expected, given how long it had been since any had lived there. Echoes of his grandfather’s presence were clear from the dusty row of wine bottles tucked into one of the kitchen cupboards to the well-preserved furniture, all made from the same stained wood and protected from the dust by large sheets. All of the sheets contained the same motif — a long thin arrow with a barbed tail picked out in a vibrant orange — and something about it scratched at the edge of Obi-Wan’s memory.

Whenever he tried to remember more, the only thing that rose to the surface was the sensation of walking through a cornfield, a hand clasped in his as a boy walked in time with him and he knew that he never wanted to let go.

Footsteps echoed from the floor above, snatches of laughter and Obi-Wan tipped his head back to track their progress. Anakin and Ahsoka had disappeared up the folded down stairs nearly twenty minutes ago, just enough time for their curiosity about the house to be satiated and their attention to turn to the overgrown field in front and the buildings that lay beyond.

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin’s steps were deliberate, a pause between each one as he waited for Ahsoka to step down. They made a strange picture with Anakin towering over the vibrantly dressed Ahsoka as they climbed backwards down the ladder. “Can we go outside?”

“Outside!” Ahsoka echoed, pausing in her climb to clap. She wavered on the final step and Obi-Wan managed to take half a step towards her, panic sparking through his chest, but she steadied herself, hands pressed against the pale wood of the ladder as she took the final step down. “We’re gonna find sheep!”

Obi-Wan bit his tongue from the reflexive denial that bubbled up, trying to keep the toddler’s hopes from being crushed. While Anakin had had the luxury of headphones, he had participated in countless renditions of Old McDonald on the drive down until the melody felt like it was boring a hole in his skull.

“Make sure you stay together.”

Ahsoka clapped her hands together once more and wrapped her arms around Anakin’s waist before she untangled herself to throw herself at Obi-Wan. She was warm and slightly sticky, the clean floral scent of her favourite perfume clinging to her braids as if she had dipped them in it. “Love you, Obi! Gonna find the sheep for you.”

Obi-Wan forced a smile, lightly bumping her nose with his before he set back on her feet. Anakin waved to him, rocking on his feet and Obi-Wan’s smile shifted into something genuine at the boy’s attempt to seem so grownup.

“Be good,” he warned before forcing his voice to be softer, lighter as he caught the flicker of hurt on Anakin’s face, his bottom lip beginning to jut out. “I love you.”

“Love you,” Anakin muttered, scuffing his shoe along the pale wood and Obi-Wan’s grin widened, recollection burning through him of standing in the same spot, the world too large around him and yet confident of his place in it.

He turned away, bowing his head to pick at the peeling tape at the edge of the cardboard box. It came away slowly, the rasp setting his teeth on edge as it clung to his hands. As he pried it open, he stepped back, surprise passing through him like a lightning bolt.

Qui-Gon’s face, his mouth curled into the same serene smile Obi-Wan could remember so clearly, stared back at him. He had forgotten the way his shoulders had stooped, every edge rounded, yet it didn’t distract from the spark of mischief in his eye. The remembered scent of honeysuckle filled his lungs, warm and spiced like the tea they had been drinking. It had been taken shortly before Obi-Wan had signed the paperwork to be named as Anakin and Ahsoka’s emergency guardian by a student photographer, and he ran his finger along the frame, removing the scraps of paper that had clung to it during the move.

Turning, he glanced around the room, finally settling on the engraved mantlepiece above the blackened fireplace and placed the photo there, adjusting it slightly so the sun wouldn’t reflect across the glass and age it.

“We’re back here again,” Obi-Wan murmured. He closed his eyes, breathing out slowly and forcing his heart rate to settle. The future lay before him, uncertain and fragile, and he had never been so terrified in his life. “I wish you were here. I wish you could tell me that everything would be okay in that infuriatingly cryptic way.”

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until muted shapes burst like lightning and the rising tide of grief subsided. “I’d just like a sign I haven’t thrown everything away.”

A crash and screams from outside answered his call, and Obi-Wan was running, fear spiking through him. A distant part of him knew if they both screaming, they were both still alive, still breathing, but the noise only reminded him of the shriek of the hospital monitor—

“What is going on here?”

Three pairs of eyes snapped to him, and three children exploded into incoherent yells, their hands waving in the air. Anakin and Ahsoka stood along one side of the small storage shed, and a young boy who looked to be a similar age to Anakin stood along the other, a small toolbox clutched in one white-knuckled hand.

“Anakin, Ahsoka, enough.”

Anakin’s jaw snapped closed, but his face transformed into a murderous scowl, his brow furrowed and his arms folded across his chest.

Obi-Wan turned to the boy, taking in the defiant jut of his chin and the way his gaze wandered back to Ahsoka, the girl half-hidden behind Anakin’s leg. He couldn’t say why, but he had a feeling that the boy was the youngest in his family.

“What’s your name?”

“Boba,” the boy started before a clear whistle cut through the air, his head snapping up and peering into the field just visible behind Obi-Wan. “And that’s Cody.”

Obi-Wan stepped back, and Boba took the opening, darting past Obi-Wan with ease, his toolbox skimming past the taller man’s knees.

“Obi-Wan! Why did you let him go?” Anakin’s voice rose and cracked, and Obi-Wan blindly reached out for the boy as he watched Boba disappear into the weeds. He could feel the heat radiating from Anakin’s flushed cheeks, carding his hand through his dark hair and tugging apart a knot he found there.

“I believe—“ Obi-Wan tipped his head back, frowning against the glare of the sun as he watched someone push their way through the weeds. “I believe we’re about to meet our neighbours.”

The man who stepped into view was nothing short of beautiful. His face was mostly cast in shadow due to the leather cowboy he wore, but Obi-Wan could make out the edge of a smile, aiming for reproachful but fighting against amusement. He moved with ease, a relaxed confidence in his step, and Obi-Wan found himself moving closer like a moth drawn to a flame. His clothes were worn-in — a dark blue checkered shirt and grey jeans — and clung to the broad curve of his shoulders and bared the hollow of his throat.

“I’d wanted to welcome you to the village properly.” The man paused to laugh, a rumbling chuckle that sounded as sweet as honey. He tipped his head back to look at Obi-Wan properly revealing dark brown eyes and the pale curved scar on his left temple. He was studying Obi-Wan just as intently as he was, his gaze passing over the frayed edges of his jumper, the mud splattered on his neatly pressed trousers and Obi-Wan shifted beneath the pressure of it.

It wasn’t the same as the sterile meetings he was used to — cold impersonal nods from across a room, a growing sense of recognition at a stranger’s face — this was something new and terrifying and exhilarating.

“I’m Cody Fett. I believe you’ve met Boba.”

He held out his hand, and Obi-Wan took it, feeling the roughness of his calluses and the calm strength behind it. This close, he could see flecks of gold in Cody’s eyes, like scattered straw.

“Obi-Wan.” Cody’s eyes widened a fraction, new understanding dawning on his face. “And that is—“ Obi-Wan turned, waving his hand towards Anakin and Ahsoka, still huddled in the doorway, their eyes wide, “Anakin and Ahsoka.”

He turned back to see that Cody’s gaze had never strayed from his face, an unreadable emotion flickering past before it was tucked behind warm friendliness.

“Dooku would have been your grandfather?” Cody waited for Obi-Wan to nod before he continued. “He had an agreement with my father about us looking after the place while he wasn’t here. Just so you there’s no wires getting crossed with us being here.” His grin widened, but there was steel in his words and Boba pressed into his legs, one hand stretched up to tug on the edge of his shirt.

Without looking, Cody smoothed his free hand over Boba’s head in a motion so familiar it sent a pang through Obi-Wan’s chest and he was still holding Cody’s hand.

He let go, missing the contact the moment their hands parted, a fresh furious blush burning through his cheeks. “An agreement? Oh.”

Cold certainty settled over him and he felt the spike of pain behind his eyes resurface. In the grey-tinged confusion following Qui-Gon’s death, he had worked on auto-pilot to get the man’s affairs in order, including cancelling outgoing payments, one of which was simply labelled as ‘Fett’.

“I’m sorry. I’ll work out how much you’re owed and sort it out. You have my word.”

“It’s no trouble—“ Cody began, but Obi-Wan cut him off with ease.

“You’ve done good work here, and you should be compensated for it. I am glad to see that my grandfather’s farm didn’t fall into ruin while it’s been unoccupied.”

“I’m sensing that finance might be your battleground of choice.” There was no cruelty in Cody’s words, presenting the insight as if it was obvious. “Why turn to farming?”

His gaze locked onto Obi-Wan’s and he couldn’t guess what the other man read on his face, only that he understood.

“Boba?” Cody pulled off one of his gloves with his teeth, speaking around the leather as he worked a golden ring off of his thumb. “Fancy showing our new neighbours around the village proper? Get yourselves something nice at the bakery.”

Cody paused, hooking his hand into the back of Boba’s collar as the boy began to step forward. “Buirkanir par ad'ika.”

Boba nodded, holding out his hands for Cody to drop the ring into and looked up at Obi-Wan expectantly. Cody mirrored him, tipping his head to one side and tucking his glove into his pocket. “My treat. A better welcome to the village.”

Obi-Wan bit his lower lip as he thought, glancing over his shoulder at the pair. Ahsoka’s demeanor had changed in an instant, leaning forward and using Anakin’s arm to stop her from falling, and Anakin wrinkled his nose but nodded at Obi-Wan’s questioning glance. He would complain later but, hopefully, the prospect of new places to explore would mollify him.

“I’d appreciate that. I’ll just grab my wallet and—”

“My treat.” Cody tapped Boba on the shoulder and the boy was off, dropping the toolbox and making his way past Obi-Wan to the doorway expectantly. Obi-Wan watched him tuck the ring onto his thumb — the metal oversized and starting to slip before he curled his hand into a fist — and waved a cautious hand at them, before turning and starting to walk towards the small track that led back towards the village. Ahsoka followed him, tugging Anakin along in her wake.

“The ring?” Obi-Wan turned back towards Cody just in time to see him tug off his other glove, the action rough but captivating, his gaze dropping towards every inch of skin that was revealed.

“Boba can add whatever they get onto my tab and I’ll pay it when I’m next in town. You’ve not had the pleasure—” Cody’s grin widened and his gaze darted off to one side before returning to Obi-Wan. “—of meeting my family yet but we’re quite large. This makes things easier for everyone.”

“I appreciate it, more than I could ever say. It’s been— It’s been a confusing couple of months.”

“I can only imagine.” Cody stepped forward, placing a hand on Obi-Wan’s arm and he leant into the touch, his heart stuttering in his chest. He hadn’t realised it before, but now? Now with the touch of Cody’s hand still burning on his palm and his closeness, the scent of warm honey and sandalwood blanketing them both, Obi-Wan wanted nothing more than to stay next to him for as long as he was able.

“Even this…” Obi-Wan waved as if that one gesture could encompass the overgrown fields and the vacant buildings. “I don’t know what I intended coming down here, or even if I’m going to stay in the end.”

“Obi-Wan. You’re allowed to give yourself time. Time to grieve, to plan, to work things out. Give it… a year. I’ll help. It’ll do me some good to have a proper project again, so you’d really be doing me a favour.”

Obi-Wan had had his suspicions upon meeting the man that they would be well-matched. He couldn’t say why, but whether it was destiny or some cruel whim of fate, Cody Fett had been placed in front of him, and Obi-Wan couldn’t find any urge to say no. Every argument he could think of paled in the face of his earnest, serious expression.

“A year?”

Cody nodded, stepping closer and tipping his head back to meet Obi-Wan’s gaze. “One year. Want to shake on it?”

Obi-Wan laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “You are a very dangerous man, Cody Fett, but agreed.”

Cody’s grin was blinding, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but join in, feeling the tension release from his shoulders in the flood that was no longer going to drown him but carry him onwards.

“First job of the day is to fix the fence.” Cody turned, using his grip on Obi-Wan’s hand to twine their fingers together, stooping the same movement to pick up the toolbox. “Given that my usual helper is occupied, can I convince you to step in for me?”

“I’d be delighted.”

One year to see what would happen, and one year to make a choice.

Obi-Wan squeezed Cody’s hand, the other man squeezing back, his thumb rubbing along the curve of Obi-Wan’s knuckles, and they walked together through the field, both feeling an odd sense of familiarity but neither speaking it aloud.

#codywan #Star Wars #codywanweek2021 #codywan week 2021 #commander Cody #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #boba fett #my writing #fanfic

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barnesbabee · 4 years ago

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I’ll Fuck You Like A Pornstar || K.H

Summary: Have you ever wondered what it feels like to be fucked, like a pornstar?

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Reader

Words: Ask God, he might know Idk

Genre: Smut

⚠ drinking, punishment, pornstar!au, spanking ⚠

A/N: I love Hongjoong’s lips :)). Enjoy 💖

ᴄʀ: ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱʙᴀʙᴇᴇ

Seonghwa ver. || San ver. || Jongho ver.

“Good morning Sir! What can I get you?”

“Your number.”

Your sleepy eyes widened and you took a better look at the smiling man in front of you. He had bleached hair, swept back into a beanie, and several earrings decorating his ears. His eyes were serene and soft, and his style, although casual, was very eye-catchy. The man was gorgeous, there was no doubt. Your doubts rested in his question: why did this idol-like stranger want your number? You had very visible eyebags from the lack of sleep and there was a huge stain of your shirt from when you had tried to make a smoothie but forgot to put the lid on the blender.

You had no answer to the flirty line, not because you were shy or not used to being courted like that, but because your sleep-deprived mind could not formulate an adequate response.

He chuckled with the most attractive voice you’d ever heard when he saw you frozen. You watched as he pulled out his phone from the pocket of his jacket and unlocked it, handing it to you.

“Is that a yes?”

You finally broke out a smile and bit your lip. You hesitantly reached for the phone and typed in your number. Instead of typing your name, however, you decided to redeem yourself from your previous lack of response and type in ‘princess’.

The male’s smile widened when he saw your name and he chuckled.

“Well then, princess,” He said, looking at you with a hedonistic expression as his tongue grazed his lower lip “I would like a caramel macchiato to go.”

“Certainly Sir, and what would be the name for the cup?” You asked, teasingly, holding a black pen near the cup.

“Hongjoong.”

The second he left the café (after winking cheekily winking at you of course) you couldn’t help but wait for your phone to vibrate with a text from him. You had never noticed how many texts you received throughout the day until you were waiting for a particular one.

The day went on painfully slow, but your heart was racing, waiting for the handsome man’s text… You were getting a little impatient, you had to admit, and by the time you were closing up the shop, you were a little upset about the fact that you didn’t even get a ‘Hello’ text.

You were pouting to yourself when a loud sound rang from your pocket. Who could be calling you at this hour!?

You set down your broom and grabbed the phone.

Unknown Number

It had to be Hongjoong, although you were a little surprised, you didn’t expect him to straight up call you, who does that? Nevertheless, you slid your thumb across the screen and accepted the call.

“Hello?” You asked, beginning to think that this was all a prank.

“Hello princess, are you done with your work?”

His voice was mellow and in that tone, he could make you do whatever he wanted. You bit your lip at the pet name. You loved to be called princess, but it just sounded so much better when it was him saying.

“Just about, I’m closing the café now.” You informed him.

There was a pause, and when he was about to speak you interrupted him.

“Hongjoong, why did you call me though? You know a text would do just fine…”

He chuckled from the other side of the line.

“Texting just feels so impersonal, you know? Especially when I’m about to ask you out for a drink.”

This man had no shame… He sweet-talked you like you were his already, and he spoke with an overwhelming amount of confidence.

“Out? Right now?”

“Yes, right now. Meet you in front of your café in say, two hours?”

You smiled to yourself and grabbed your coat, ready to leave.

“If you’re not on time I’m leaving.”

“Gotcha, princess.”

You hung up, and the cheeky smiled stayed on your lips. You were attracted to the way he behaved and carried himself. He was good-looking, he was fashionable, and he knew so. Hongjoong knew exactly how to handle himself and fuck, it was hot.

You nearly sprinted to your house, out of excitement. It was about twenty minutes away from your workplace, but you managed to get there in twelve.

As soon as you stepped into your apartment you stripped from your work attire and threw it somewhere on the floor. You only had about one hour and fifty minutes to get ready, and you had to rush yourself.

One hour and a half passed in the blink of an eye, and you absolutely had to leave the house.

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror and pulled down the tight skirt of your flashy cocktail dress. You nodded at the hot-shot staring at you in the mirror and threw a jacket over your shoulders as you left the house.

You hated to walk in a short dress, alone at night, so you walked as fast as you could in those nude-coloured stilettos of yours.

When you could finally see the café in the distance, you noticed someone leaning against the big glass window. His style wasn’t very common, but you had to admit that he looked amazing in that deep red turtleneck and black beret.

“Hello!” You greeted once you were close enough.

Hongjoong looked at you from head to toe and smiled. You watched as he said nothing, while straightening himself, taking his phone from your pocket and showing its screen to you.

“8:32. You’re late, good girls aren’t late.” He said, expecting a flustered response.

“Well then, I guess you’ll just have to punish me.”

Hongjoong cocked a brow and looked at you in amusement, absolutely enjoying your blatant behaviour.

“Let’s go then?”

You and the male walked to the famous bar nearby making some small talk before you reached.

You learned that the both of you shared a common passion: getting absolutely shitfaced. You loved the you that came out whenever the shots of tequila hit. You loved the thrill and shamelessness drinking brought out of you.

The bar wasn’t far, so in just a couple of minutes you were entering the alcohol and smoke-reeking place. You huffed in a breath, as if you were smelling the fresh air in a park. You missed these environments.

Hongjoong noticed and chuckled, leading you to a booth that had a round table, and a large, red sofa almost all the way around it.

You sat in front of each other and ordered a couple of light drinks, since it wasn’t even close to an acceptable hour to ask for a round of shots.

“So, princess,” He started “mind telling me your real name?”

You blushed a little at the fact that you hadn’t even told him your name yet.

“My name is Y/N.”

He nodded along to the information.

“Pretty name.”

You chuckled and looked at him teasingly.

“You’re not gonna hit me with a ‘Pretty name, just like you’ line?” You asked.

Hongjoong smiled at you and took a sip of his scotch.

“No, I don’t need to.”

You looked at him in disbelief, at how smooth he was, and took your drink up to your mouth to hide the slight pink tone on your cheeks.

As per usual, most of the talking the two of you did was to get to know each other, but the whole hour or so of sharing stories and moments from your lives came to a halt with a particular question.

“Hey, you already know what I do for a living, but what do you do? Are you like a model? ‘Cause you sure dress like one.”

Hongjoong smiled at the compliment and chuckled, looking at the ground for a second before looking straight into your eyes.

“Something like that…”

You noticed the way his eyes darkened for a second and you tilted your head to the side, in confusion.

“What do you mean, ‘Something like that’?”

Hongjoong leaned in, close enough so his lips were almost touching your ear.

“I’m a pornstar.”

You almost spit your drink back into your cup, but when you saw him pull away with the biggest, smuggest smirk of the night, you forced yourself to recompose.

“What? Does that freak you out?” He asked, although he didn’t look the slightest bit preoccupied if him being a pornstar bothered you.

You bit your lip in return and shook your head.

“Of course it doesn’t…” Hongjoong paused for a second and moved closed to you, so close that his thigh touched yours.

He looked down at your exposed legs and placed his hand on one of them, squeezing it lightly. Your eyes followed his tongue, as he swiped it across his lower lip.

“Because you like it, don’t you?”

The question kind of caught you off guard, and your eyes snapped up to meet his. Only then did you realize how close you were, just a mere centimeters away from your noses touching.

His lewd whispers made you a little tense, and a small pool started forming between your legs. You pressed your thighs together, and when Hongjoong felt it, he moaned quietly.

“Have you lost the ability to speak, princess?” He asked smugly, thinking that he had finally been able to make you speechless.

You smiled and bit your lip, trying to decide if you should say what was on your mind or not. Ultimately, the bravery your couple of drinks had given you won over.

“Not at all… I was just imagining how well a pornstar must fuck.”

Hongjoong’s expression darkened and his face inched even closer, until his lips were brushing over yours.

“Do you want to find out?”

You replied by fully pressing your lips on his, moving them slowly yet roughly. Hongjoong’s hand traveled up your inner thigh until it was dangerously close to your aching core. His fingers dipped harshly in your skin, and you were sure they would be marked there the next day. Neither of cared who was watching, you just wanted to feel each other, to taste each other.

Once you pulled away, he stood up and extended his hand for you to take. Confused, you grabbed your bag and took his hand in yours. He pulled you close and walked you out of the bar.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

Hongjoong looked at you and let go of your hand, so he could sneak an arm around your waist and pull you closer.

“To a place where I’ll make you scream my name.”

You felt giddy and nervous, like a teen girl about to get her first kiss.

After a couple of minutes of silent walking and some groping from both parties, you arrived somewhere you assumed was his house. He immediately pulled you into his bedroom, and you looked around, curiously.

The room was exactly what you expected. Big, with wine-coloured walls, setting a sensual tone around you, a big, king-sized bed with black sheets, a fancy wardrobe, a black desk by the window and a body-lenght mirror by the wall opposite to yourself.

You looked at the iron bar above the bed, stuck to the wall and furrowed your eyebrows.

"What is that for?" You asked, pointing at it.

Hongjoong's arms snaked around your waist and pulled you close to him, your back hitting his chest. His lips lingered on your neck before placing a long kiss below your ear.

"Do you want to find out?"

The way his voice sounded, dominant and enticing, sent shivers down your spine, and you found yourself leaning into his touch.

He chuckled at your response and bit your neck harshly, making you whimper.

Hongjoong’s fingers played with the hem of your dress for a second, before slowly sliding it up your body, and eventually off of you. He gripped your waist and turned you around, taking his sweet time to admire your body.

He was quick to undo your bra, and you allowed it to fall from your body, giving him a perfect view of your breasts.

“Fuck…” He cursed, before locking his lips with yours.

You moaned into the kiss when you felt one of your nipples being pinched harshly, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth.

He pulled away and bit his lip.

“Get on the bed, I’ll show you what that iron bar is for.”

You excitedly took a place on the bed and watched him strip down to his boxers. Fuck, his body was really a sight to see…

Hongjoong approached the big wardrobe and fondled with some items in a drawer you couldn’t quite see. When he turned around, you saw a pair of big, shiny handcuffs playing in his fingers.

Your eyes widened and his glistened.

He approached you slowly and motioned for you to turn around. You obliged, and he hooked the handcuffs’ chain around the bar before tightening the silver rings around your wrists.

Hongjoong pat your ass softly and kissed your cheek.

“You look so good like this… Now be a good girl or I’ll have to punish you, okay?”

“Okay…” You replied.

You were almost certain that you wanted to act out, just so he could punish you.

Hongjoong slipped off your panties and spread your legs wider. The cold air hitting your bare pussy made you feel exposed. A good kind of exposed.

“Don’t cum.”

Before you knew it Hongjoong slid between your legs and slammed you down on his face. You immediately moaned at the contact, and gripped the chain that connected the cuffs together.

Hongjoong’s tongue delivered kitty licks to your womanhood and entered you occasionally, and he couldn’t get enough of how well you tasted.

His tongue swirled around you like he knew every corner of your body. Hongjoong would moan from time to time, the vibrations driving you insane.

Your legs absolutely gave in the second he began sucking on your clit, and even though you did your best not to cum, you ended up crumbling under his touch, and you climaxed with a loud cry for his name.

Hongjoong immediately lifted you up and knelt behind you.

He held your hips tightly and you could feel his boner pressing against your ass as his lips neared your ear.

“You misbehaved, princess… I’ll have to do something about it, no?”

Your tongue grazed along your lower lip and you nodded. You felt a sharp pain in your ass, before he stood up and walked to the wardrobe.

You heard him rumble through items, followed by a whip in the air.

Fuck.

It didn’t take long before you felt a stinging pain in your ass cheeks. You arched your back, He alternated between them, and the strength only increased at each whip. Suddenly he stopped and caressed your ass with one of his hands.

“Are you hurting too much?” He asked, genuinely worried.

For a second he forgot you weren’t one of his co-workers...

You smirked and glance at him over your shoulder.

“Are you holding back too much?”

Hongjoong loved a challenge, and the way you kept teasing him and pushing him to the edge… It was paradise.

He swung his arm back and you could swear you saw stars when he whipped your ass. You whimpered and shook whenever the leather material hit your skin, and you could pretty much feel yourself dripping onto his mattress at this point.

Your wrists were already hurting from the amount of wiggling and pressure you put into them, but the reddening skin on your wrist was the least of your preoccupations.

“Hongjoong… Please!” You begged loudly.

“Please what princess? Have you had enough?”

You nodded furiously.

“Yes… Please fuck me Hongjoong, I need you in me now!”

He swiftly undid your handcuffs and grazed his thumb over the red marks softly, as he pushed you down onto the mattress. Hongjoong spread your legs and knelt between them, removing his boxers in the process.

As he let his cock free, it hit your stomach, causing you to whimper at the small contact. Still not done with playing with you, Hongjoong pressed the tip on his dick against your slit and ran it along your folds, loving to see your desperate reaction, and the way your hips bucked, begging for more.

“Fucking stop teasing me and fuck me already!” You yelled as you gripped his wrists, that held your hips.

“As you wish, princess.”

He finally entered you, with a fulfilling harsh thrust. The way he moved in and out of you was absolutely the way of a professional. He had you screaming and squirming in no time, and the amount of stamina he had was unreal.

Hongjoong thrust into you faster and harsher at every thrust. The look on his face was almost as if he had some competition to win: it was feral and rough, his hair was stuck to his forehead and his eyes were dark.

“Hongjoong… I-I’m gonna cum again…” You said between breaths.

The male slapped one of your breasts and grabbed it harshly.

“Cum for me princess. I wanna feel you around my cock.”

A couple more thrusts and a harsh squeeze on your nipple were what triggered you. Your toes curled. you grabbed the sheets harshly and your eyes shut tightly as a new wave of pleasure washed over your body.

Hongjoong let go of your breast, but his grip on your waist tightened, and his thrusts became uneven and sloppier. It was the lewd sounds of his cock slamming into your dripping core, along with your dirty sounds that sent him over the edge.

He moaned lowly and pulled out, painting your stomach and breasts with a warm load of cum.

You locked gazes with him and took some of his spurt in your finger, then inserting it in your mouth as you tasted him.

Hongjoong squeezed your thigh and smirked.

“Whatever will I do with you, my princess.”

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wastelandlovingscenarios · 4 years ago

Note

Romanced!companions react to their precious fem!sole survivor getting slapped or strikes by an npc right in front of them? Can we categorize this; who would be the violent/threatening/just angry group? >:^0

omg, i’m pretty sure none of them would be remotely calm if that happened... but damn imagine the outcome of that poor npc. they lived a good life. this was a short request while i work on like 7 other ones, LOL.

thank you for requesting and please enjoy!

the next request i’m posting is gonna be a react that turned out a little longer than i expected so buckle up. 🤠

Danse:

violent/threatening

danse would for sure fall under the violent criteria of this situation. he already has one foot in the door once someone dares to go too close to sole, but hit her? that’s a totally different story for another day. that person better be praying to some god out there to give them mercy cause danse knows he won’t. the minute he hears that slap on soles face, it will trigger him to attack without a word. and to answer the question; does danse need a gun to do the job? absolutely not. those muscles are not just for show after all. no matter how many people hold him back, he will always fight his way through the crowd of people and beat the living fuck out of the person, even if they’re begging for him to stop. he won’t even realize the damage he’s done until after and won’t regret it either way, knowing that it was well deserved on their case. now if it was a situation where it was shoving or showing signs of starting a fight with his beloved, he’d step right in front of them and stare them down angrily with the biggest scowl ever. in some cases, that’s more than enough to scare most people off towards the other direction but in a few, he’s forced to threaten them. “i advise you step away unless you desire for this situation to escalate into something that involves solely you and i.” no one will ever be a threat to sole on his watch and he will make sure that nothing will stop him from protecting her.

Deacon:

threatening mixed with violence (depending the intensity of the situation)

deacons nice. he’s really laid back in most situations and is more than willing to let things go if he feels like it’s not worth the trouble. following that, deacons nice to a certain point and if you cross that point? consider yourself on his hitlist for the rest of your life. the intensity of the situation will determine how he’ll react towards it. if the person were to do as simple as shove sole, he’d keep an eye on them and say something within the lines of, “woah, woah, take it easy.” now if it was something like a slap or a punch, he wouldn’t even let it happen, not while he’s around. deacon would have fast enough reflexes to catch their wrist and he’d grip it enough to leave a mark, a displeased expression on his face. he’d even go as far as making jokes with an evil smile, such as, “oops my hand slipped,” or “oh you dropped this,” and proceed to deck the person as hard as he can with his free hand, not caring whether or not he knocks them unconscious. after that incident, he’d constantly terrorize the poor individual, often pulling pranks on them without any breaks. sometimes, he’d even go near them and speak in a happy tone while patting their back in a manner where it seemed a little too friendly.

Maccready:

threatening

mac is aware he’s not muscular nor is he made for fighting, which is why he sticks with guns during most situations. hes a lanky man and gets intimidated a little easier than most people, knowing that many of them could take him down with something as simple as a punch. it’s easier to say he’s more confident with a gun in his hand in these instances. despite his weaknesses, he would not hesitate to step up, knowing that hes unable to control his anger. he’d immediately point the gun at the persons temple and cock it just for intimidation purposes, but knows that he’s more than willing to pull the trigger if he needs to. it benefits him and the commonwealth more than damages it, seeing that this world needs one less asshole living it in, so who is he to care if this person dies or not? he’d slowly press it harder against the persons head, angrily speaking, “back away now.” if the person does so, he’ll gladly let them walk away without an injury and instead tend to sole. he wouldn’t let them go without some snarky comment like, “yeah keep walking and please let the door hit you on the way out.” if they refuse to move away from sole though, he’d gladly take the butt of his gun and smack it against their temple within seconds, completely ignoring the persons body knocked out on the floor. mac would get sole up and out of there as soon as he can, complaining under his breath about how much of that guy was an asshole and how he shouldve shot him.

Hancock:

violent group

consider one thing; that this person who fucked over his lover is beyond dead in his eyes. no one touches his sunshine, and if they dared to? theyll be wishing they hadn’t. hancock can quickly become someone’s friend, but the same can be said if it were an enemy. if he’s willing to stab someone for getting even a little too chummy and touchy with sole, imagine what he’d do if they dared to inflict pain on them. depending on where they are, like a bar for instance, he’d grab a glass bottle and crack it on the guys head, pushing him down on the floor without another word. using his shotgun, he’d make sure he’d put a few bullets through his body before he decides he’s completely satisfied with the new makeover he’s given them. now if he was in a more violent mood and was definitely not having it, he’d want to have their blood on his hands and wouldn’t care if it stained his clothes or not. he wants to send the message to everyone watching that if anyone dares to fucking cross his line, they’re gonna learn it the hard way and he will make it very known how the outcome of the situation will be. for example, he has a knife and what better way to use it than to stab the fuck out of someone for pissing him off? in some cases (depending on the severity of the situation), he’ll shank them in a place where he knows it’ll hurt the most and leave them there to suffer so they’ll get the idea that if they fuck with the people he treasures, they have another thing coming.

Nick Valentine:

mix of threatening and just angry.

honestly, nick is very civil about most cases and he won’t get violent unless absolutely necessary. he will definitely be beyond angry and give the person so much fucking shit for their actions. nick almost never yells but in this case, he’d yell so loud, it would fill up the silence of the room. nick also uses a lot of profanities when doing so, unable to maintain his professional attitude and his usual cool. “now what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” he’d even go as far as shoving them back, keeping a distance between sole and the person who deemed themselves as a threat to her presence. he’d try to minimize the possibility of violence arising, knowing that both him and sole are not as replaceable as they seem. he’d sneer at the person who striked sole, talking in the most irritated tone possible, “if i wasn’t here controlling her anger, you would’ve been dead on the pavement just a few minutes back, pal. consider yourself lucky that you were spared.” regardless if the person continued talking or not, nick would casually take soles hand and pull her away from the scene as he let out a remark loud enough for them to hear; “we don’t have time for the likes of you anyway, so take your trouble elsewhere.” nick has like zero shame when it comes to back talking or insulting someone he’s not fond of, so you best believe he won’t shut up until you both are out of sight.

Preston:

honestly, just angry.

preston will avoid violence at all costs, considering he doesn’t favor the idea and as much as he hates seeing sole get hurt, he doesn’t want to risk starting another issue. sole has a reputation amongst the commonwealth and the last thing he wants is to taint it or fuck it up, so he lets sole decide whether or not violence should be pursued. also considering that she has more than enough on her plate, he doesn’t want to add on to the list of problems she already has. so unless this guy is literally on the verge of gravely injuring his other half, he won’t do much besides step in front of sole to protect her from any further hits. he’d rather take the hits than to let someone as important as her take them firsthand. he wouldn’t forgive himself if such a thing happened. even if sole did most of the work in the end, he’d still send them the dirtiest look he’s ever given anyone and his hand would already be on the trigger of his laser musket, ready to fire at the guy anytime just in case. before officially leaving the person to do their own thing and bidding them goodbye, he’d get a little up close and personal, talking in the most threatening tone possible (even if he’s not the greatest at it); “once you mess with the general, you mess with the minutemen. i’d suggest you choose your battles a little better next time around.”

Sturges:

just angry

we all know by now sturges is a huge pacifist and will refuse to resort to violence unless he has no absolute choice but to do so. sturges is a very kind man and just like deacon, he’s willing to let most cases go but he respects sole too much to let violent situations like this slide. even if he’s very afraid to get into a violent situation head on, he’ll try to keep it as calm as possible, not wanting to escalate the situation more. being the considerate lover he is, he will ask sole to stay back and keep away from the person as much as possible as he tries to handle the situation himself. even if sturges doesn’t show it, he does get very angry in these instances and will not allow it to happen regardless of the reason. he’ll probably talk to the person with a firm tone and an irate expression but do nothing further than that unless the individual wants blood spilled, which in this case, sole is brought back into the situation. knowing sturges, he’d probably tell the person something like, “hey buddy, i really don’t appreciate what ya just did to my girl. ya need to quit it cause it ain’t right.” or, “if we got a problem, you can always just come to me instead of strikin’ that beautiful lady of mine. i’m willin’ to fix it with ya and if not, then i’m willin’ to take the hit.. though i’m sure my girl wouldn’ appreciate such a motive.” he knew she really wouldn’t. sole would shoot them down before he could let out a soft, “told ya so.”

Gage:

the ceo of violent

even if the raider life consists of injuries, blood, dirty work, and violence, he will never allow sole to get hurt under his watch. even if he tells her to toughen up and get used to it, he truly wants to protect her from the world and anything that could run as a potential hazard. that being said, he doesn’t care who the fuck strikes sole- it could be a man, woman, the highest and most royal person in the planet and it’d still have the same result in the end. gage wouldn’t even give them a chance to explain themselves and would simply let out a small, “oh fuck no, you ain’t.” and shoot them down himself before sole could give him an order. he would take the situation into his own hands with or without soles persmission, knowing that they crossed gages line of comfort. if he’s not satisfied with that or feels as if that’s too much of an easy way out, he’ll shoot their leg and come closer to them to step on their chest to block any chance of escaping. “wanna act tough, huh? show me how tough ya are, why dontcha? be my guest and apologize to the overboss. i’ll let her decide if it’s good enough to let ya go.” if sole were to deny every apology, he’d continue to shoot them limb by limb until he decides to put them down completely. now if sole decides their apology is more than enough, he’ll willfully let them go but let her decide their fate on whether they should be put down or not. in the end, if he had his way with that bastard, they wouldn’t be seeing the light for a long while.

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forgottenpasta · 5 years ago

Text

Dulce Periculum Pt. 1

Summary: Devious and devilish, your two new impish hybrids never miss a chance to torment you for your hopeless attraction to them, knowing exactly what they do to you. But is sly sexuality and enigmatic allure all there is to the tiger and wolf hybrid, or do the depths of their eyes hide something more for you? Part 1/2.

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 7.2k

Pairings: Tiger Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader X Wolf Hybrid!Jeongguk

Warnings: Taehyung and Jeongguk have no shame, arrogance galore, filthy smut in part 2, swearing, mentions of blood, mild violence, anime style nosebleeds.

Part 1 | Part 2 (complete)

A/n: Enjoy!

****

The sickening sound of Jeongguk’s foot connecting with the bear hybrid’s face in what was a flawless display of a spinning wheel kick made you flinch in your seat. The crunch of bones breaking could be heard by even your inferior human ears. The hulking bear hybrid went down like a sack of potatoes, hitting the hard floor of the ring with a dull thud.

Jeongguk huffed out a laugh as he assumed a neutral position, wiping a hand down his sweat soaked washboard abs as he smirked down at the hybrid who was clutching his jaw with both his hands. “I thought bears were supposed to be aggressive in the ring and shit. You fight like a pussy.”

The man on the floor groaned in pain and anger, but try as he might he couldn’t get up, the rivulets of blood dripping down his nose, staining his hands and white of the ring floor indication enough of the result of the fight, but just so it was clear enough the bear hybrid tapped out nonetheless.

Jeongguk rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath to control his laboured breathing. “Put a band-aid on it and stop whining. It’ll be back to normal by tomorrow.”

“Does he really have to do that?”, you mused out loud from where you sat on the bench beside the fighting rings. You watched Jeongguk help the hybrid stand up. “I get that he’s the trainer, the teacher and all that but still. His words make me feel like a pathetic fighter and I’m not even in the ring with him.”

You hadn’t really expected a response from your bench co-occupant, seeing as ignoring you was the norm with the tiger hybrid, hence the snort startled you into turning your head to stare at him.

“That’s because you are a pathetic fighter.” Taehyung didn’t look at you, busy scrolling through his twitter feed on his phone.

Despite your resolve, which you had tried so hard to harden ever since the two insanely attractive hybrids had come into your life, you found yourself sighing. And it wasn’t a frustrated sigh either, as it should have been considering his totally unwarranted barb about your non-existent fighting skills, it was the dreamy kind. You didn’t understand how he made slouching on a bench, bored out of his mind while staring blankly at his phone look like a cover spread straight out of a bougie magazine. He unintentionally modelled every little thing he did, like right now you could take a picture of him and photoshop an ad of the device in his hand and no one would blink an eye. You could understand why so many brands clamoured to get him to model for them, though he was particularly picky and selective about who to lend his divinely handsome face to.

“Thanks, Tae.”, you replied, because what did you say to that really? You were always hard pressed to come up with a clever response whenever one of them were in close proximity to you. You swore up and down you were a quick witted person when your two new hybrids weren’t there to cloud your confidence with their sex-on-legs charm and mysterious aura.

“Don’t mention it, Owner. I’m always here to offer you some encouraging words.”, Taehyung muttered with a straight face, his striped tail swishing languidly beside him.

A shiver ran through you, even though the temperature in the gym was completely normal.

Owner. You had told them countless times to call you by your name ever since they came into your life three weeks ago, but every time you did they just smiled at you and went right back to calling you owner. You were convinced they got their kicks off watching you turn red or sputter or stumble all over yourself whenever one of them uttered the word. They knew what effect it had on you and they revelled in it.

You were about to ask him for the nth time not to call you that when the brownish orange ears atop his head twitched and he looked up. You followed suit, making eye contact with your wolf hybrid sauntering towards the two of you with a lazy grin on his face.

Shirtless. Sweatpants riding low. Underwear band showing above the top of the waistband of his sweats. Long hair wet from a shower. Fuck.

From the amused expression on Taehyung’s face you knew he could hear your thundering heartbeat.

“Don’t go getting a heart attack now, Owner. Who’s gonna feed us if we lose you?”

Jeongguk took that moment to reach the two of you. “Who’s getting a heart attack?”, he asked, pulling out a towel from his duffel bag beside the bench and towel drying his hair with it in that way guys did that should not look hot but did.

“No one. Are you ready to go?”, you diverted the conversation, willingly breathing deeply to tame your heartbeat. You did not need their ribbing over your obvious attraction to them right now.

“Yeah, just need to clock out for the weekend. Then we’re driving down to Lean Raw to have lunch.”, Jeongguk informed, chuckling when you made a face at the suggestion. The restaurant he was talking about only served tasteless “healthy food”, no sight of grease or artery-choking deliciousness anywhere.

“We went there last Friday as well.”, you complained under your breath, getting up to follow both of them out of the gym, trying not to stare at Jeongguk’s flexing back muscles as he pulled on a white T-shirt that might as well be see-through, his sleek yet fluffy dark grey wolf tail swaying gracefully behind him.

Jeongguk turned back and you quickly averted your eyes, feigning immense interest in the potted plants lining the gym’s exit.

“You should thank me then. I’m making you eat healthy at least once a week.”

“I eat fine. Not my fault normal is not upto your standards.”, you mumbled as you all reached his black Mercedes parked in the small parking lot for gym employees.

“If you consider subway sandwiches and Chinese takeout six days a week normal, Owner, then you’re asking for that heart attack you were about to get back in there.”, he quipped, winking at Taehyung when the elder hybrid’s amusement broke for a laugh at the stricken look on your face.

You hurried to duck inside the car, going for the spacious backseat because they never let you drive when one of them were with you, even when you insisted to take your own humble and ancient Honda Accord. Taehyung got in the passenger seat and Jeonnguk in the driver’s, smoothly pulling out onto the road.

Seeing you three together the way you were, it was hard to figure out whether you owned the hybrids or if it was the other way round. People never believed you when you told them the two luxurious, predator hybrids were yours. And they wouldn’t have been had your great-aunt, who remained unmarried throughout her life and amassed a considerable wealth writing books about hybrids, had not unexpectedly died by slipping in her apartment-sized bathroom and breaking her head open on the corner of a marble countertop. Even more unexpectedly, she had willed the two hybrids that she had raised since they were teenagers to you of all people and all her wealth to them. You often thought that she must have had no idea that she’d die so suddenly and unexpectedly, because her will have to have been an interim joke while she figured out exactly who to actually give responsibility of her hybrids to in case of her death.

Or maybe she thought you were the only one who’d not try to extort the wealth she had endowed on her two “kids”. Technically, hybrid inheritance and property laws still prohibited ownership of property by hybrids if their owner hadn’t sanctioned it or gifted it to them, and in the eyes of law everything that belonged to the hybrids belonged to their owners as well. In your opinion, it was well past time such medieval and discriminatory laws were repealed but it didn’t matter anyway because your timid, tongue-tied self was incapable of extorting even an unwilling apology or “thank you” from the two spoiled hybrids, let alone their money.

Maybe your great-aunt was a genius. She knew exactly who would never be willing or able to curb her hybrids’ freedom.

“You guys are so mean.”, you pouted, looking out the window at the slow-passing buildings and dramatically leaning your head against the glass like you were a pitiful, wronged protagonist of an angsty movie.

“You’re just so prone to even a little bit of teasing, Owner. You get all nervous and fidgety, it’s honestly so funny to watch.”, Jeongguk supplied helpfully.

You rolled your eyes. “Glad I could entertain, but stop calling me owner, please. Just call me ___.”

Taehyung smirked at you from the review mirror. “As you wish, Owner.”

Giving up with a huff, you slipped in your earbuds to effectively shut out their teasing and showcase your disgruntlement. The name was an irony at this point, an oxymoron, because you anything but owned them. They had known what effect they had on you from the moment you’d first met them in your great-aunt’s lawyer’s office. You’d given away all your cards from the first meting like the inexperienced, naive idiot you were. You’d toppled over the carpet because you were staring at Taehyung instead of watching where you were going, signed the wrong documents because Jeongguk had flashed a smile your way and literally broken the glass of the table with a jerk of your knee when you’d felt Jeongguk’s hand accidentally brush your denim covered thigh. Even the lawyer tried to cover up his laughter with coughs and sympathetic looks towards you. In short you had been a rambling, awkward mess at the thought of two of the sexiest men/hybrids you’d ever seen living with you and that day had been marked as the most humiliating one in your life, one you’d likely reminisce for years to come whenever you couldn’t sleep late at night and your brain started playing the movie of all the embarrassing moments of your life. And it would be a long one, because even after three weeks living with them you continued to make a fool out of yourself at every reminder of how out of your league they were and how bad of a crush you had on them.

Even though you had earbuds in, you weren’t actually listening to music, too preoccupied with thoughts of your lameness to press play. You could hear everything when Taehyung and Jeongguk started talking.

“You helping me with the shoot tommorow?”, Taehyung asked him. He had a photoshoot for a luxury watch brand coming up which was going to be featured on multiple billboards and magazines. You always did a double take when you spotted Taehyung’s face around the city, on banners, screens and subway ads, had a hard time believing the same man slept across the hall from you.

“Nah, hyung. Jackson asked me to help him out at the club downtown, one of his bouncers quit recently and you know how the weekend rush is.”

Taehyung chuffed in disappointment, the sound so tiger-like you almost smiled. He couldn’t purr like small cat hybrids could, but his chuffs were so damn adorable it didn’t matter.

“Why don’t you take Owner with you?”, Jeongguk suggested, a small tilt to his lips indicating he was joking. Maybe. Nevertheless you shrunk down in your seat to make yourself as small as possible. You did NOT want to go to one of Taehyung’s photoshoots, for many reasons but mainly because you knew what seeing him in his element would do to you and you had clowned yourself enough to last a life time.

Taehyung frowned, running his long, slender fingers over his bottom lip in contemplation. “I would but I don’t want her to get nosebleeds watching me pose for the camera.”

Death. You wanted it.

Staring wide-eyes at your lap you willed spontaneous combustion to incinerate you right then and there. The nerve of him! He was so fucking arrogant but so fucking…spot on, and he said it with such quiet resignation too, like it was the truth of the matter universally accepted that you would, in fact, get nosebleeds watching him pose. But still, was humility not in fashion anymore? You had half a mind to connect your bluetooth to Jeongguk’s car and blast Humble by Kendrick Lamar.

Jeongguk laughed. “You are a smug motherfucker.”

Taehyung was affronted, he shot the wolf a glare. “That’s ‘You are a smug motherfucker, hyung’ to you, brat. Besides, you have no room to talk after that shirtless, just out-of-the-shower thing you pulled on her back there. You knew what you were doing.”

Jeongguk shrugged shamelessly. “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that as much as I did.”

Enough.

“I can hear you two animals.”, you said hotly, glaring at them as you crossed your arms across your chest.Jeongguk snorted.

“Animals? Thats what the playground bully called me in kindergarten. You gotta come up with something better than that, Owner.”

Taehyung peeked back at you with mischievous eyes, a playful smile on his face. “Aww, Owner, we knew you could hear us. There’s no music playing in those.” He pointed to the earphones you clutched close to your chest. Of course, how could you forget their superior hearing that just outed you in the gym as well. The pissed off glare you’d aimed at him faltered when you noticed his gaze linger on your chest for a second too long but his eyes were back to yours before you could say anything.

“I would love to take you to the shoot with me, you know. Nosebleeds or not.”

His eyes went hooded and his voice dropped an octave lower than it already was, his baritone rich and deep and sensuous. You stilled, involuntarily bracing for whatever he was about to say.

“I would love to let people know who owns me.”

********

Snatching a pristine white paper napkin from the holder, you stuffed it up your nostril, letting it hang from there as you smacked away Taehyung’s hands when he tried to help you.

“You have to tilt your head Owner or the bleeding won’t stop easily.”, he whined, trying to grab your head to make you tilt it. You shrugged him off.

“I don’t need to listen to you. You should be able to see what you did to me.”

“Flawless logic, Owner.”, Jeongguk snickered from where he sat across the two of you. Taehyung had immediately claimed the seat beside you upon entering the restaurant, hovering to make sure you were alright. Jeongguk had also tried to approach you with his hands outstretched but a glare from you had him sitting where he was now.

Taehyung sighed, leaning back in his seat to give you a look of concern but finally leaving you alone. “I was just joking. I had no clue that would happen.”

You didn’t want to talk about yet another one of your now infamous daily embarrassments, not having the willpower to confront your failings at the moment. You changed the subject. “Can we order please? I’m starving.”

Jeongguk signalled for a waitress but kept his eyes on you, a frown coming on to his beautiful features. “Did you skip breakfast again? I made you an omelette and cut up some fruits before leaving for work in the morning.”

“Oh did you?”, you asked sardonically, raising your brows and turning to look pointedly at your tiger hybrid. “I didn’t happen to find it.”

A guilty look crossed Taehyung’s face immediately, his orange and black ears almost folding over on his head. He rushed to explain himself. “I didn’t know it was for her! In my defence I offered to make her some pancakes to compensate but she refused. I did manage to get some cereal in her though.”

You were already speaking before Jeongguk could impart another one of his healthy eating lectures on you. “I was getting late to meet my friend, I didn’t have time to eat.”

The wolf hybrid shook his head in disappointment, making you feel strangely guilty. You were an adult dammit, you didn’t need to explain your eating habits to your own hybrid.

Thankfully the waitress took that moment to come take your order, saving you from any more chastisement from the hunk of muscle and soft fur sitting across from you. But a look towards the cute blonde standing beside your table, bending down low to show her modest cleavage, smiling at your hybrids like she was a kid in a candy store (or a waitress who’d just won the hot customer table lottery), had your mood tumbling right back down in the gutter.

It really shouldn’t have, you should be used to this by now. People, women and men, stared at your hybrids wherever they went, you had first hand witnessed a woman run into a pole whilst almost turning her head 180 degrees to keep staring at Taehyung and Jeongguk. You didn’t blame them, they were a hard pair to ignore. Especially when they were together, they oozed a confidence and charisma so magnetic that along with their otherworldly attractiveness, it tended to leave the people around them slack jawed, awed and/or jealous. But the most befuddling part was that they didn’t have to do anything for it except be themselves. If they noticed the attention on them, they were either used to it or consciously ignored it because you’d never witnessed them giving a fuck about what others thought about them or saw them as, and that just added to their charm even more.

Like now. They were doing nothing out of the ordinary but a sweeping glance around you informed you that almost all women and some men seated inside the healthy-crap selling establishment were either blatantly staring at them or trying to steal glances in between conversation and eating. They turned heads wherever they went, this was nothing new. So why did you feel a headache oncoming?

“Hi, my name is Lea. What can I get you boys?”, the waitress chirped, her million watt smile illuminating your table and worsening your headache.

You sighed in resignation, not at all surprised by your exclusion in her greeting. Whenever you were with your two hybrids, you might as well be thin air, except that one time when that pre-pubescent kid in the park had asked you if you were their maid.

Jeongguk smiled at her, and you swore even you could hear her heartbeat double up. “Just water, while we decide please. Thank you.”

“Of course.” She wrote something on her notepad, making you scowl. Did she really need to remember something as simple as water? You saw her surreptitiously glance at Taehyung as she made to leave, and apparently the tiger hybrid noticed too, a smirk curling on his lips before he shot her a wink. The waitress stumbled over nothing, almost face planting in someone’s food. Felt good to not be the only one making a fool of herself over the two men. You ignored the irrational irritation simmering deep in you at the sight of one of them semi-flirting with a woman.

They were very respectful towards your home space in terms of never bringing anyone home for the night, even though you hadn’t said anything to the effect, but you were hundred percent sure they more than got their needs fulfilled without you ever coming to know of their escapades, it was impossible that they didn’t, looking the way they did and the sheer number of propositions they got on a daily basis.

You snapped open your menu in search of the least healthy option available when Taehyung addressed you.

“I wasn’t joking about you coming with me to the shoot, you know.”

When you said nothing, he grumbled out, “Owner, I’m talking to you. You look absolutely ridiculous with that napkin stuffed up your nose by the way.”

You gave him the stink eye, ignoring his last quip. “Why do you want me there? You always have your agent and staff with you.”

Jeongguk answered for him, leaning back to rest his arm across the back of the bench in a way that did wonders for his biceps and had you momentarily distracted. “He gets restless when he’s around strangers for a long time. Ideally hyung can manage it but during long shoots it helps when someone he has scented accompanies him.”

“Scented?” You frowned, not understanding. Your knowledge of hybrids was embarrassingly scant and whatever you knew about their behaviours had been acquired in the last three weeks of living with the two.

Jeongguk looked at you, surprised, before sharing a look with Taehyung that you couldn’t quite comprehend. “Um…”

“If you’re worried about getting more nosebleeds, you don’t need to. You can stay in the trailer during the whole thing and I can come get you when I need you.” Taehyung cut off whatever Jeongguk was about to say, speaking to you in a tone that bordered on placating. Pitying.

The mercury was rising on your temper thermometer. One thing you absolutely hated was being pitied. It was bad enough that they knew how you felt about them, how helplessly attracted you were to them. You could even excuse their teasing words and occasional jokes at your expense. But pity, you could not take. An idea formed in your head as you sat there stewing in your vexed emotions.

“No, thank you.”, you snapped, a little more crassly than you perhaps should have but Taehyung’s surprised face was worth it. You normally never spoke in anything but a diffident manner. “I have plans this weekend.”

A frown replaced his surprise rather quickly. “What plans? You didn’t say anything about any plans.”

“You normally stay at home during weekends to read those steamy books you love so much.”, Jeongguk added, looking at you with curiosity. At your shocked face he smiled crookedly and felt the need to further elaborate. “You know the ones with the ripped dudes on the cover.”

You sucked on your tongue, internally enraged but forcing yourself to not react and rise up to his bait. Anger and embarrassment were not a good combination for you, so when you spoke your voice was sharp enough to cut. “How would you know what I “normally” do on weekends? You two have only been living with me three weeks. Don’t presume that you know the first thing about me.“

It was Jeongguk’s turn to look surprised, likely because you’d never spoken to them that way. He shared a glance with Taehyung and because you weren’t looking at him you missed the “tone it down” gesture he made to the younger with his hand and Jeongguk’s subtle nod to it.

The wolf hybrid slowly reached across the table and picked up your hand. Looking contrite, he apologised. “I’m sorry, Owner. You’re absolutely right. I spoke out of turn. Will you please tell us what are your plans for this weekend?”

You almost answered them but the words stalled in your throat when a thought occurred. “Why do you guys want to know?”

Jeongguk looked like he was at a loss for a second. Smoothly, Taehyung picked up your question, saving the younger from coming up with an appropriate excuse. “For security, Owner. We just want to know you’ll be safe. Can you really begrudge us your mere whereabouts when we’ve recently lost our previous owner so easily?”

He knew he was being underhanded playing the dead owner card, but Taehyung had never been one for propriety.

As expected your eyes softened at the mention of your deceased Aunt. You shrugged, giving in. “I’m gonna go clubbing with some friends.”

The truth was you hadn’t been out partying in a long while, hadn’t had an orgasm given to you by someone else in even longer and you felt that this painful attraction to your two hybrids might just be more exasperating because of these factors. A night of drinking, dancing and maybe a good lay just might help. Or not. But you had to try and get over your unrequited crush over your hybrids, who were way out of your league.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice how the they had suddenly straightened to give you all of their attention, until Jeongguk broke the silence with a bark. “Who?”

You raised your brows.

He cleared his throat, voice calmer when he repeated. “Who? That girl who works under you? What’s her name? Mary, Maddie, err, Maggie? I can’t remember.”

“My assistant, Masie? Ugh, no. Just some people I’ve been friends with since college I guess.”

They frowned at your vague answer but before they could question you further the waitress returned, a suspicious new sheen of bright red lipstick on her lips which wasn’t there before. Taehyung noticed you roll your eyes at her, making him smile secretively.

Jeongguk turned on his charm on her, something you’d noticed he couldn’t help but do with people, but you were hundred percent certain what he presented was a front. Like a computer which produced the same output every time you give the same command, no matter who gave it. You could shuffle his interactions with strangers interested in him with each other, and it wouldn’t make any difference. They all fell for it hook, line and sinker.But you didn’t feel like watching him make the poor girl more flustered than she already was today.

You turned your gaze to the menu, tuning out the sound of the waitress going on an in-detail spiel about her favourite dishes available when Jeongguk was gonna order the same thing he did last time.

Taehyung’s shoulder nudged you softly, and you looked up to see his soft smile directed at you. It disarmed you for a second.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, making you shiver slightly. “Do introduce us to your friends.”

You promptly glanced back at the menu. Hell, no.

********

The next day you found your luck shining on you. Three flyers for a downtown club named Lithium which was offering free drinks for the code printed on them, were stuffed in your mailbox along with other junk. As usual, when it came to actually going through with your plans you had been dithering, both laziness and your mild agoraphobia making a simple task such as going out with some friends seem like a herculean effort. As if the huge amount of money you’d spent on getting therapy for your anxiety wasn’t reason enough to enjoy your better state of mind once in a while.

You messaged some of your friends, the ones you knew were unlikely to turn down an offer of drinking and partying. Your college friends Naeun and Sooyoung accepted immediately. Giddy with excitement, you spent your day flitting about the house and pampering yourself with every skin care product you owned and scrubbing and waxing yourself down to a polish, not one prickly hair in sight.

It helped that Taehyung was out for his shoot and Jeongguk was out doing god knows what, it’s not like you pried into their lives. Even though it was the more heedful thing to do to know about their whereabouts because if hybrids got into trouble with the authorities out on their own, nobody could save them except their owners. You felt a little relieved that they were prudent enough to wear their collars whenever they were out on their own, though Taehyung wore his wrapped around his wrist like a bracelet.

At the thought of Taehyung you stopped rummaging your closet to rub your chin in contemplation and a little guilt. You could swear he was pouting when he left home this morning for work, looking at you out of the corner of his eyes when it became absolutely apparent that you would not accompany him to the shoot. You also remembered Jeongguk’s soft murmer of appreciation because you’d woken up early to make him breakfast just how he liked, he’d touched your waist lightly while doing so, making you almost drop your plate.

Sighing you glanced back at your closet, your gaze flitting to the deep blue number you’d bought on impulse but never worn. You didn’t feel like you had the confidence to carry risqué clothing, so your more revealing purchases almost always remained untouched in your closet. But you still remembered the happenings of yesterday, you would not pity yourself like they did. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? Ending up looking like a literal clown was better than making a fool of yourself every other day. You pulled out the deep blue halter dress that moulded to your curves like a second skin and ended at mid-thigh.

Sooyoung and Naeun brought a bottle of vodka for little prep drinking before you went out. Naeun looked absolutely gorgeous in her slinky black dress and sky-high heels, towering over you as she hugged you. Sooyoung was dressed like she was going to a bdsm club. She was pushing past you to get to the kitchen and pulling out shot glasses before you could even say a word in greeting to her. Naeun and you followed her.

“So who are we getting over?”, Naeun chirped as she grabbed her shot.

“What do you mean?”, you asked nonchalantly, cutting up a melon and getting some salt.

You could feel Naeun stare even though you weren’t looking at her.

“You don’t fool us, ___, we’ve known you since college. You would never willingly go out unless it was absolutely imperative. You’re clearly looking for a distraction.”, Sooyoung gave you a knowing look before downing her first shot like it was water and she a fish.

You laughed, but even to your own ears the sound came out as awkward. “Can’t a girl just let loose with her friends once in a while just for the heck of it.”

Sooyoung exchanged a troubled glance with Naeun, the action reminding you of the subtle glances your two hybrids often exchange with one other, instantly putting a damper on your mood. You were sick of feeling like the butt of some inside joke you were never privy to.

Sooyoung saw your scowl and touched your hand.“We just meant it is unlike you. Even once in a while.”, she assured while reaching for the bottle.Naeun narrowed her eyes at you, making you go tense.

Ever the straightforward one, she never minced her words. She had a reputation for reducing many a guy and girl to tears with her honesty, including you. “I’m sure its got nothing to do with the two hybrids you now own. I saw the pictures in the living room by the way, they’re certainly a sight for sore eyes. Did you fuck them yet?”

You should have expected it but her crass words made you immediately defensive anyhow. “What?! No! I don’t- it’s not like that between us.”

“Between you and them or between them and you?”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” You downed your shot then, already itching to get out there and forget everything happening in your life.

Sooyoung answered for Naeun. “What she means, in Naeun-speak, is if it’s you who wants to keep it “not like that” or them? What’s the tea? C’mon tell us. ”, she imitated your voice, sounding way more annoying than you did. You hoped.

You rolled your eyes on an exasperated sigh. “You guys are looking for “tea” where there is not even a drop of water.”

Naeun pretended to check her one inch glittery gold fake nails. “If that’s so, you don’t mind me asking for their numbers right? It’s been a long time since I’ve been the filling in a sexy hybrid sandwich.”

After a few seconds of you staring at your two friends wide-eyed and them looking at you expectantly, you threw in the towel. “No, I’m not gonna give you their numbers. Can we go already?”

“Sure.”, Sooyoung got up, swinging an arm around your shoulder as she led you to the front door. Naeun followed behind with a smug expression you wanted to slap off. “We’re gonna get you a good lay and you’re gonna forget all about them. Good dick is good dick, no matter where it comes from.”

You made a face. “There’s so much wrong with that sentence.”

******** Club Lithium was jam packed, the weekend crowd clearly evidenced in the long queue of dressed up people that had greeted you outside. You had fully expected to wait outside till your toes went numb in the blue suede pumps you had selected to go along with your dress, but seeing you three approaching the entrance, a bouncer had broken away from his guard at the door to tell you about the random selection for entrants they were doing from people in the line. Which was odd because you hadn’t even joined the queue yet.

You eyed his suspiciously but Sooyoung was jumping at the chance before you could second guess anything, expressing gratitude by bounding upto him to clutch his bicep as he led you all inside.

“I think the girls are doing their job.”, Naeun observed, adjusting her cleavage for maximum potential. You laughed as you entered the club, darkness surrounding you immediately as strobe lights in red and blue occasionally flashed and gave you a glimpse of a crowded dance floor and a bar spanning the entire left side of the club. The mix of bass and thrumming drum beats was already making you itch to move to the rhythm even with just one shot in your system.

You absolutely loved to dance. It didn’t matter that you weren’t all that good at it, you could dance to anything and everything, even silence when you were alone in your apartment with an imaginary song playing in your head. Even if you didn’t find anybody to go home with today, if you were able to dance till your feet hurt you’d consider it a successful night out. Your friends knew this.

Sooyoung took your hand to drag you to the bar, shouting over the music. “Let’s get more shots so we can dance already.”

An adorable looking cat hybrid was manning the bar. His fluffy tail flicked as you signalled for his attention, a wide smile immediately coming on to his face as he greeted you. “My name is Yoongi. What can I get you guys?”

As Sooyoung answered him, you couldn’t help but stare meanwhile. He really was adorable. White tail and ears and a head full of platinum hair, he looked unreal. His black collar shone with a big circle cut diamond hanging from the centre. He was clearly much appreciated by his owner. You wondered if you could get away with gifting something like that to your hybrids. As much as they called you owner, you never got an inkling that they truly acknowledged your ownership enough to accept a symbol of it from you. You didn’t want to step on any toes.

“You look a little lost.” Yoongi’s voice made you snap your gaze to him. He slid your drink towards you.

You downed the shot as quickly as you could before answering him. “Just thinking about my hybrids.”

Yoongi didn’t look surprised, though he leaned his elbows on the bar top in curiosity. “What kind of hybrids do you own? I’m my owner’s only hybrid, I can’t imagine having to share his attention with another.”

“Tiger and wolf.”

Yoongi wrinkled his nose, looking even cuter if that was possible. “Wild predators. We got a wolf h—“

A cheery voice cut him off as a handsome man came down the other side towards Yoongi to fluff up his hair. “I hope you’re not getting distracted again, Yoongi.”

Yoongi huffed as he swatted away his hand. “I’m not. I’m just talking to the customers, Jackson.”

Jackson reached for his hair again, smiling deviously, making the hybrid duck away to escape. You tilted your head, a small smile on your face. What would happen if you made to ruffle Taehyung or Jeongguk’s hair? You had a sudden inexplicable urge to find out.

Leaving the bar you joined your friends on the dance floor. Hip thrusting and body rolling your heart out to the hip hop and EDM fusion beat. As the night progressed, you downed three more shots, thoroughly tipsy when Naeun grabbed you from behind for a less than platonic dance with her, grinding on each other and making many men on the dance floor drool over the sight of you two.

After your sixth shot, you were officially gone to the world as you moved on the dance floor. When an unfamiliar pair of hands snaked around your waist, you didn’t do anything to stop them, didn’t even turn around when a distinctively male, unfamiliar voice whispered in your ear from behind.

“You’re so fucking ho—hghk.” And just like that the hands disappeared and the presence gone from behind in a rush of air.

“Huh?” Slightly confused but the alcohol in your system muddling your intelligence, you made to look over your shoulder but another pair of muscular hands were replacing the previous ones before you could.

The body that moulded to yours thrummed with testosterone and something dangerous, the heady musk of maleness and something wild but eerily familiar making you simultaneously a little scared but comforted. You moved languidly together, though the music was anything but.

He towered over you, you could tell, his chin brushing the top of your head. He didn’t say anything, just held you impossibly close and danced with you like he had all the time in the world. The alcohol you had consumed was making you uncharacteristically bold, you leaned your head against his shoulder and when the music switched to something more sultry, you slowly took his hands in yours to trail them up your waist.

For a few seconds he didn’t do anything, but soon enough he was taking your prompt and running his veiny hands up your body. When his hands brushed the underside of your breasts, a sigh escaped your lips even as your failing inhibitions tried to contain it. “Yes.”

You threw caution to the wind when one of his fingers almost touched a nipple through the fabric of your dress. Taking his hands in yours, you placed them firmly on your breasts, undulating your hips to the beat to rub against his pelvis.

A curse left his lips that he muffled against your hair, hooking the the curtain of it that fell over your right shoulder with his fingers to bare your neck to him. He pressed his mouth to the sensitive skin there, and you had inkling he was also doing it to not let any more sounds escape him.

Reaching a hand behind you, you grabbed a thick thigh, urging him to not let any space between you. He bit your neck at the action, sucking on the skin to leave a bruise there.

“Fuck yes!”, you moaned, closing your eyes. You were unbearably wet in your lace panties, your thighs rubbing together to alleviate the sensations his touch on your breasts was causing.

When you couldn’t take it anymore, you swiftly turned around to attach your lips to his. Not caring to take a look at his face, the only thing illuminating your surroundings were occasional flashing strobe lights anyway, you went on your tip toes to deepen the kiss, licking his bottom lip for more. He obliged with equal eagerness, clutching the back of your head so that his tongue could explore your mouth.

He tasted divine, smelled even more amazing. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, certain you were going to spend your night in the arms of a strange man that felt like home. You hadn’t expected to actually get laid tonight, but were thoroughly satisfied by how the night was turning out.

Biting his lip, you trailed kisses up his jaw as your hands inched up to card into his thick hair. You were about to whisper into his ear a proposition to leave for somewhere less crowded when your fingers encountered the distinctive shape of ears on his head, the soft fur tickling your skin. You had no clue you were kissing a hybrid.

Surprised, you pulled back to look at the hybrid you’d almost been vertical fucking in front of so many people. The man tried to pull you back in to his lips but you resisted, curious, and when next the lights flashed to illuminate the club momentarily, your heart almost lurched out of your chest in shock.

Jeongguk was staring back at you with heavy lidded eyes, lips swollen from your frantic kisses and a hungry look on his face.

“Won’t you ask me to take you home, Owner?”

You gasped, stumbling back as some sobriety filtered back in. What had you done? This was not supposed to happen. You had promised yourself you’d never let either of them seduce you just for the sake of it. Your heart couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle being a notch on their belt when you had to live with them, and knowing your tendency for attachment it was downright dangerous for you to delve into any kind of physical intimacy with them.

But of course, why would they care about your heart. They were as cruel with their inconsiderate handling of your feelings towards them as ever. He could have easily told you who he was, or better yet never approached you in the first place, but they could never pass up a chance to torment you, could they? Your lips were already craving for more, your body still tingling in all the right places, even though you’d done nothing but make out. This is why you never wanted to go down this path, if you didn’t know what you were missing, you wouldn’t want it as much. Now, Jeongguk had ruined even that for you. He likely thought it’d be fun to prank his owner, making your vulnerability the butt of the joke as always. And now you couldn’t go back to just imagining what it felt like kissing them, he’d gone and given you a taste of what you couldn’t have. All for a joke. He must be laughing at you internally for falling into his arms so easily, even without looking at his face.

Self pity and humiliation were a depressing combination, forcing tears into your eyes even as you tried your best to keep them at bay.

Jeongguk had started closing the distance between you again, lust evident on his face, when the sudden suspicious shine in your eyes made him go stock-still.

A horrified, confused look dawned on his beautiful face. “Owner, what-wait—!”

Not letting him speak and fuck up everything more than it already was, you turned to flee the club.

A/n: let me know what you thought, feedback keeps me writing.

#jungkook smut #taehyung smut #bts smut #bts fic #bts angst #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook fic #taehyung fic #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung

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lunaris-laments · 3 years ago

Text

bakugou with an s/o who gets misgendered (gn)

reader uses they/them pronouns! their specific sex/wrong pronouns are not mentioned as well as their identity (they’re generally genderqueer) to make this as inclusive as possible

wrote this as someone who frequently gets misgendered and this is very self indulgent

reader also works in the service/retail industry

pairing - bakugou x genderqueer reader, sfw

tw - slight themes of transphobia (?) or gender dysphoria

bakugou can tell something has been bothering you for a while

every time you come home from work you look a little more broken and a little less self assured. he asks you about it, a fleeting “you okay?”, and you always shrugged it off with something along the lines of “it was a long day”, or “shitty customers”, with a small, awkward smile

he can sense something else is wrong, though. one night, after he returned from his pro hero duties and you got in from work, you had settled onto the couch together and were watching a movie. bakugou wouldn’t have said anything that night specifically - you had once again come home defeated and both mentally and physically exhausted - but the quiet clicks of your teeth biting into your nails had him distracted

despite being brash, and blunt, and rough around the edges, bakugou tries his hardest, puts his all into everything - he loves fiercely and only wants the best for you. has the biggest heart of anyone you’ve ever met - it rivals midoriya. he’s attentive, knows your schedule and habits like the back of his hand - notices the little things. like right now, how you only start biting away at your nails when you’re anxious about something and will only open up about it when seriously prodded

so, he prods

bakugou pauses the movie, and you look over to him. you raise an inquisitive brow, wondering what the problem was, and he turns to face you fully. “y/n,” he says, worriedly with underlying tenderness, and a determination to get to the bottom of it. “what’s really goin’ on with you? with work, i mean. and don’t give me that ‘i’m just tired’ bullshit. you’re fine until you go to work and come back home lookin’ like someone just shot a puppy.”

“katsuki…” you start, and gulp down the lump in your throat, avoiding eye contact. he’s right, of course he’s right, and he’s reaching out in his own way and he wants you to tell him what’s wrong and he’s looking at you so lovingly that it all comes back to you so suddenly, and before you know it, there are tears falling down your cheeks and you find yourself smothered in a warm embrace, burying your face in a sturdy chest

bakugou’s hugs, much like other physical acts, are a reflection and extension of himself - what he can’t express through speech. they’re for when he can’t find words to tell you how much he loves you, or that he’s sorry, or that he’s there for you. the hug is always different depending on what he wants to show, as in,

“i love you so much i feel like i’m about to combust, and i want you to understand, but i don’t know how to make you understand with shitty words i can’t seem to get right” - his arms would slip around your waist slowly as he pushes you up against him, he wants to feel you as close as possible, and it always comes as a shock how warm he is and how pleasant it is to melt into him despite all his hard muscle. he keeps his chin on your head or lips by your temple, eyes fluttering shut and breaths deep in total relaxation - you relax him. sometimes he mumbles sweet nothings and the rest of the world falls away; he hope’s it’s enough to reciprocate all you do for him for now.

and right now you know he’s doing his best to comfort you, when words fail him. they always do when you start crying. he pulls you into his chest - he knows you’re hurting, and that you need to let it out before anything he says can get through to you

so, bakugou lets you cry in his arms for a while. tears stain his shirt fabric but he doesn’t mind - does all he can, rubbing your back softly, squeezing you just a bit tighter when your sobs get louder, holding back tears of his own, because your pain is his pain.

when you’re done, you pull back and wipe your remaining tears. he stays close, hand resting on your bicep, all the while resisting the urge to kiss away your tears in place of your shaking hands

“s’not even that big a deal,” you speak again, voice hoarse and head spinning a little from all the crying, and bakugou mutters a quick one sec - kisses your forehead before getting up and returning with a glass of water for you

you continue after a minute of drinking with intervals of deep breaths, trying to steady your racing heartbeat and staggered breathing.

“it’s… s'just that,” you gulp down some more water, giving yourself time to think how best to word it, so he’ll understand. “at work… they don’t use the right pronouns for me and it's… annoying.” you’ve put it lightly, but got the gist out.

bakugou urges you to talk more. throughout all the years he’s known you, your gender has given you trouble - you’re proud, and comfortable now, but have dealt with much dysphoria, discomfort, and prejudice. pronouns are an important part in validating your identity and, no matter how confident you are, there’s a part of you that relies on the work of others too. although he can never completely understand, bakugou has always worked hard to see things from your side, and he’s learned a lot in the process. he wanted you to feel as safe and loved as possible in his presence.

“s'just really frustrating and disheartening. it makes me feel like m'not doing enough to… to earn it? like i don’t look genderqueer enough? and it's distressing when they just assume what i am, and assign me a gender, and because of where i work, i have to smile at them n' act like nothing’s wrong.” you gnaw at your lip and stare up at him.

for a moment he doesn’t say anything to your confession, and the room is almost silent. then for a second time that evening, he bundles you up in his arms and holds you close. “m’sorry. i’ll beat those shits into the next century for ya.” you smile against his neck at his statement; it’s so him. “always makes me so confused when people do that. assume when they know fuck-all about you. promise they mean nothing… i promise their uneducated asses aren’t important at all.”

it’s short and he struggled to string together the sentences with minimal cursing, but you can hear his emotions in his wavering voice: anger at those who hurt you even unintentionally, regret that he didn’t ask you about this sooner, and sadness - he’s so upset that he can’t do more, can’t personally be there to stare them down or correct them if you wanted him to

he knows that all he can do is be there to pick you up and make you feel better at the end of the day. and if that’s his only role, he’s going to be better than anyone at it

you huff a laugh and kiss his neck softly, mumbling a thank you and i love you, which he responds to by pulling back and pecking your lips - once, twice, three times, more, moving to different areas of your face until he’s satisfied, “love you too. m’always gonna be here, whatever you need.”

#hmmm #my writing #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x gn!reader #tw transphobia #<- just in case #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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keroujack · 4 years ago

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aside from opening up/sharing his feelings, what do you think billy struggles with the most when he transitions from being an island (always alone, untrusting, etc) to being part of a loving relationship w steve?? I can't imagine it's easy and I am interested in hearing if you have any hcs about little behaviors or things he has to adjust

ooF THIS IS A GOOD ONE, and ig this sort of goes along with what you’re saying but

i think one of the things that billy doesn’t understand, that takes the longest to adjust to, is that he has somewhere to go now. when things go wrong at home

he doesn’t want to bother steve and he doesn’t want to look like a sob story and even though he does go to steve’s more often than not, sometimes he doesn’t. doesn’t want steve to see the bruising on his cheeks, the blood on his mouth, the red rings around his eyes

doesn’t want to be a burden

so nine times out of ten, he’ll go to steve’s, but that rare One (1) Time, he’ll sleep in his car. will sneak into school early to catch a shower in the locker room and walk around all day in the hoodie he keeps in the trunk of his car because it’s clean (he specifically keeps it clean for days like this)

only, one morning, before he can get out of the car and run to the locker room before anyone can see him, he hears the wrap of a fist against the window

wakes with a gasp and opens his eyes, sees steve’s staring back at him, through the glass. brow knitted tight, with concern, confusion

billy runs a hand through his hair, blinks the sleep out of his eyes, gets out of the car and goes for casual even though he knows his lip is split, that there’s gotta be a stain of purple somewhere along his jaw

he stands and shoves his hands into his pockets, leans with his shoulder against the camaro. smiles even though it’s going to reopen the cut and knows he’s right when he runs his tongue over it and tastes copper

steve’s not smiling, though. not like he is. doesn’t look happy to see him. like he normally does

billy tries to play it off, drags his eyes down steve’s body, the sweater he’s got stretched across his shoulders, his chest, the dark jeans that always make his legs look long and the white nikes that are so well-worn, the bottoms are starting to look a little brown

says, “morning, pretty boy,” all lazy. easy. like he does on mornings when they wake up in bed, in steve’s bed. together

but the words don’t make steve smile, don’t make steve’s cheeks go red like billy wants

“were you out here all night?” his voice is pinched, pained, and billy hates it. doesn’t understand why exactly it’s pulled so tight like that

tries, again, to play it off with a half a shrug, brings a shoulder up towards his ear and lets it go. “just a couple hours,” he says, keeps the smile on his lips so that steve’ll know that he’s okay, that he’s fine, it’s fine. “don’t worry about it”

he isn’t expecting the way steve’s face falls.

the way his eyes widen, the way his mouth drops open

the way the words leave his mouth with something like a gasp. “don’t worry about it?” billy’s got another shrug ready, a nope waiting on the tip of his tongue, but steve doesn’t give him the chance to say it. keeps going. “i get a call from max at two o’clock in the morning that you left and never came home and i’m not supposed to worry about it?”

billy hesitates at that. breathes. swallows. understands that steve’s upset, but doesn’t want him to be. doesn’t want to be another thing steve has to worry about all the time

“i didn’t ask her to do that,” he says, and the way steve narrows his eyes tells him it was the wrong thing to say

but it’s the truth, and billy’s not a liar. he could’ve said a million different things, could’ve told a million different lies to play it off, but he doesn’t do that

not with steve. he’s always been a little too honest with steve

steve, who says, “that’s not the point and you know it,” without a shred of doubt and sends billy’s heart to sit heavier in his chest, an anchor that holds him in place, that keeps his eyes locked in steve’s, is looking right at him when he asks, “why didn’t you come over?”

wants to look away, but can’t. blinks, to try and fight it. shakes his head, brings his shoulder back up, less to shrug and more to protect himself. to hide himself away

“didn’t want to bug you,” he says, and only just keeps his breath from catching when steve takes another step closer

closer than he normally does, in public, but it’s still so early that they’re the only ones in the parking lot, will be the only ones there for a while

billy can see the pink, the morning flush hidden high in his cheeks. the dark warmth hidden in his irises. the disbelief hidden in his mouth, his voice, his tone

“why would you be bugging me?”

“i don’t know,” and billy finally does lose steve’s eyes at that. lets them drift low, focuses them, locks them on the three little moles that dot steve’s cheek, that billy likes to trace his thumb over, likes to trace his lips over. “it was kinda late”

“max said you left around ten.”

he did, and he doesn’t try to deny it. tries instead to hide some more

“didn’t know if you were asleep,” he says, which is technically the first lie he’s told all morning

knows he’s caught when all steve says is, “billy,” because billy knows for damn sure that steve doesn’t sleep right, that the earliest he goes to sleep is one or two and that the only time he actually sleeps through the night is when billy is there in the bed next to him

is powerless to the finger steve hooks under his chin, the one steve uses to tilt his head up, to make him look him in the eyes

to send the truth to come spilling out

“you’re gonna get sick of it,” billy says, and maybe it’s not the whole truth, but it’s closer, and if the way steve tilts his head is anything to go by, he knows that, too

even if his voice is pitched up. even if it’s soft. the thumb he runs along billy’s chin, even softer

“gonna get sick of what?”

“you know,” he says, and reaches out, hooks two fingers through one of steve’s belt loops. needs to touch him somehow. to ground himself. steady himself. "dealing with me. with all this shit”

“i’m not dealing with anything,” steve says, serious. even. honest. “whether you like it or not, i actually like. give a fuck about you.”

billy feels his fingers tighten in steve’s belt loop, feels the way the air leaves his lungs, his nose when he sighs. “steve-”

“and what i’m gonna get sick of,” steve starts, and taps on billy’s chin to make sure he’s paying attention, that he’s listening, as if billy’s ever paying attention to anything else, to anyone else, “is you pretending like you gotta go this alone.”

and he pauses there. holds billy’s eyes and lets the air, the silence settle heavy around them. lets it rattle in billy’s skull, fill the empty gaps in his chest.

“i don’t care what time it is or even if you gotta sleep over every night of the week,” he says, and slides his hand over so that he’s holding the side of billy’s neck, palm warm and wide and sure. “you know i got room for you.”

and the way he says it, slow and confident, lets billy know that there’s more hidden in the words than steve wants to give away

that he’s not just offering billy a place to stay, but a place in his life, in his heart

“i know,” billy says, because he does, hopes steve can hear the me too and the i got room for you, too he’s got hiding in them, just below the surface. “i know.”

“okay,” steve says. tilts his head forward and leans his forehead against billy’s for a second, doesn’t kiss him because they’re still too far in the open. they might be alone, but alone doesn’t exactly mean safe in a place like hawkins, but billy knows he wants to, knows he would, if he could, and for right now, for right here, that’s enough. “you’ll come over next time?”

and billy nods, knows it’s enough when he says, “yeah,” but tacks on a, “promise,” anyway, so that steve knows he’s serious

that next time, he’ll be there

next time, he’ll remember he doesn’t have to go it alone

that there’s room for him in steve’s life just like there’s room for steve in his, and can only hope there always will be

#harringrove #harringrove hc #my hc #steve harrington #billy hargrove #hectordelavega #ask

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g0dspeeed · 4 years ago

Text

Liar, Liar

For @constantzeigarnik

"V unabashedly flirting with Viktor, just laying it on real thick for the ripperdoc, and Viktor just not being prepared for it in the slightest."

“Liar, liar.”

The words came out in a tired sigh with a voice that hopefully sounded as indifferent as V intended.

The pair was laid out on the hood of Panam’s latest wheels, eyes closed, and cold drinks in hand. After helping the Aldecaldo get the ride from a locked storage yard, V had offered to relax beneath the shade of a highway overpass while they waited for the client to arrive. Panam accepted without a second thought. Between the two of them, a break from daily survival in Night City seemed in order.

Supposed to be chill.

Just two friends sippin’ on a dry afternoon.

No worries.

No stress for an hour.

That was before their present conversation, one that V was trying desperately to avoid.

“Yeah, I’m the liar here,” returned Panam. “And Night City is family friendly. At least I’m not the one in denial that my ripperdoc has the hots for me.”

V turned to shoot her friend a dark look. The nomad smirked as the warning fell flat. Despite V’s best efforts, Panam could see right through her: She was absolutely fuckin’ right.

“Think ya’ got it all wrong,” V maintained in a cool tone.

“Oh, do I?”

V cringed.

“Only met the guy one time,” Panam said. “Felt like a third wheel between the two of you eye-fuckin’ each other. Almost walked outta there see what that psychic girl was sellin’.”

A new warmth began stinging V’s cheeks and Panam frowned at her friend’s lack of response.

This was new territory. Seeing V react this way was beyond strange. One of the most capable people Panam had ever met was turning red over a man. Borderline bizarre. Truly, the entire conversation was out of the norm.

“Shit,” muttered Panam. At her best efforts at being soft, she added, “Don’t feel bad, V. The guy’s stacked like a fucking truck.”

At that, V finally let her guard down. She grinned as Panam gently shoved her shoulder.

“There she is. Just let that denial fade away-”

“Fuck off.”

“What the hell are you afraid of?” asked Panam. “Rejection?”

V looked at her energy drink, swiveling the liquid around before relenting.

“I mean, yeah, kinda.”

An eye roll and a heavy groan came from the woman beside her.

“Yeah okay,” said Panam. “Like he’d reject a woman half his age, much less a badass like you. V, I saw it for myself. The guy thinks you’re hot. Caught ‘im lookin’ at your ass. Not only that, he cares, like genuinely cares about you, which says a lot for people like us. Next time you see him, just lay it on thick and be done.”

V scrunched her eyes shut at her friend’s advice. Just talking about openly pursuing Viktor Vector made V’s stomach twist into knots. As much as she was the badass that Panam knew her to be, for V to explore an actual romantic relationship outside of ‘eye-fucking’ and the occasional one-night stand with some rando from Afterlife was not something V was familiar with. Her days were chaotic. Her lifestyle was that of constant motion. Viktor, in all his edginess, was stable, consistent, and secure. Also, she enjoyed the subtly they shared, the skirting around the topic of their flirty friendship, or whatever it was, from the safety of fleeting looks, suggestive undertones, and the occasional wink.

Then again, if V were honest with herself, it never seemed to be enough. V couldn’t deny that each time she left his clinic she wanted more. Craved more. More time, more privacy, more touch. She was her own worst enemy in all of those categories, always the first to shy away, to change the subject, to wander off.

“Worst case scenario,” breathed Panam. “He’s not interested in dating someone younger. Or just wants to be friends. That’s fine. Whatever. Should that happen, you delta outta there, lay low for a few weeks, find a new doc, and move on.”

“I can’t just delta out of his life,” groaned V. “He’s been my ripperdoc since I came to Night City. He’s also one of my closest friends-”

“Ok, then suffer. Fuck! Just do something. You’re killing me with this in between bullshit.”

Hours later, their conversation from under the overpass played on repeat inside V’s head. Panam cannot sugar coat anything. She might be physically incapable of doing that. Her words came straight from the heart and that’s what made what she had to say so sincere.

That is at least what V was telling herself as she steadily made her way down the steps to Viktor’s clinic, hands clammy, and body keyed up.

Part of her hoped that he was out or tied up with a patient. Maybe he would tell her to come by later.

She scoffed.

What a stupid thought. She was too quick to forget how often he invited her to stick around if he were operating, how she would wait at his workbench or nap on his crusty couch in the back. Sure enough, she could hear the man whistling below, the cheery sound echoing to where she hesitated. She swallowed.

With a final deep breath, V summoned up the bravery to walk through the metal gate.

Hunched over his operating chair, Viktor appeared to be wiping down between appointments, his rich voice humming along to some song in his head. V watched for a moment, taking in the serene sight before approaching the ripperdoc.

“Surprised you’re not watching a match,” she said.

The humming stopped. His head cocked at hearing her voice.

Without turning he responded, “Aren’t any on right now or you know I would be.”

The rag was tossed down and Viktor shifted to look at her.

V’s stomach flipped. His blue button-up was stained with a dark, oily substance all over the front. The top buttons were either missing or dangling from bits of string, leaving the shirt partly undone and exposing his undershirt. V’s eyebrows furrowed as she noticed a small crack that cut in the corner of his glasses just above a small nick on his cheekbone.

“You look-”

“Like shit?” he finished with a grin.

Viktor crossed his arms, drawing V’s attention to his thick biceps in a knee-jerk reaction.

“Bet so,” he continued. “Someone brought in his friend after a run in with the Tyger Claws, all blood clots and broke teeth. The gonk was scared out of his goddamn mind. Took a toll just to sedate ‘im.”

His smile had turned into a smirk, something confident and full of swagger as he told his story. He wore it well, mastering the balance found only in seasoned residents of Night City, of those who earned their street cred by way of blood, grit, and never backing down. V’s lips pursed at how his eyes looked to hers past those dark lenses.

Here would be the part where V ran away, ran from opportunity, from her feelings. He dared to look at her the way he did in that moment, so smooth, so confident. The man had to know. Viktor had to recognize how he affected her, had to notice how her eyes appreciated his physique, how her complexion warmed when he touched her. His frame had turned to face hers, all broad shoulders and aftershave.

She could step back.

Look away.

This was where she could coolly suppress her attraction and change the subject.

But not today.

“Here,” she said warmly.

V stepped close to the ripperdoc, shrinking the gap between their bodies as her fingers gently plucked the man’s glasses from his face. Viktor blinked in surprise and swallowed as she studied the damaged lens with a critical eye, her own smirk pulling at her full lips.

“Gonna need new ones, doc,” she told him.

Next, V carefully folded the glasses and slid them onto the collar of her top. Viktor’s eyes tracked her movements before quickly glancing away. Ever the gentleman.

“But don’t worry,” continued V. “The rest of you I can remedy.”

He chuckled.

“The rest of me?”

V looked up. She nearly gasped. For Viktor to wear those damn shaded glasses was a sin. The bluest blue that V had ever seen, his eyes were deep like ocean water. There was longing in them. Desire. He adored V for standing so close and showing such concern for his wellbeing. Christ, she could get lost in those eyes if he kept looking at her like that.

To answer his question, V tugged at the hem of his soiled shirt. He stiffened.

“Are you tryin’ to say that you like being covered in… whatever this is?” she mused.

“Well, no-”

In a near whisper, V begged, “Then come on, Vik. Let me play doctor for once.”

Fuck.

The way she was looking up at him with that smile, those bedroom eyes, leaning close like that with her fingers tugging on his shirt and talkin’ in that sweet, sexy voice.

Who was Viktor to deny her?

He sighed out a ‘Fine’ and nodded in agreement. Consent confirmed, V went to work. V’s fingers moved to undo the remaining buttons of his shirt, but Viktor stopped her hands. His own hands were warm, a little rough with scars and callouses on the tips and knuckles. In response to V’s questioning look, Viktor grabbed his shirt and ripped the buttons loose with a jerk. They pattered at their feet.

“Trash,” he stated as he slid his arms free from his shirt. Like the buttons, it went airborne and landed in a nearby biohazard bin.

“Hey now,” warned V with mock annoyance. “I said let me play doctor.”

“Oh am I being a bad patient?” returned Viktor.

To his surprise, V placed her palm at the center of his chest. Her fingers flexed gently against his undershirt, making Viktor’s heart race. She then gave a gentle shove.

“The worst,” she teased as Viktor let her push him back into his own operating chair.

Even if he wanted to, there was no way that Viktor could hide his smile. He was at a loss. What in the world had gotten into V? Not that he was complaining of course, but he was so used to waiting. The flirting, the winks, all those playful innuendos had been going on for such a long time. By now, Viktor simply accepted that she wouldn’t push it further, that their friendship or whatever they had, consisted of only those teasing moments. Nothing more. In the end he believed that V didn’t want anything deeper with the ripperdoc. And that was fine. A bummer, but fine. Didn’t feel bad about it. Didn’t resent her. She was younger, a wild one who made a hobby out of recklessly injuring herself doing God knows what in the city. The man wasn’t new to women or intimacy, and with a woman like V he thought it best to let her set the terms, especially considering that she was after all his patient. A patient who ate his food, slept on his couch, completely ignored his work schedule, and called him ‘pretty boy’ on the regular. A patient no less.

So imagine how fast his heart was racing as her fingers softly cupped his cheek, at how her body leaned in close as she inspected the small cut beneath his eye. Viktor tried his hardest to look off into nothingness rather than at her breasts. Tried to ignore how delicious she smelled. Was she wearing perfume-

“Breathe, Vik,” she mumbled. “Can’t have my first patient black out on me.”

She fucking winked and that goddamn smirk of hers graced her lips.

“I, uh,” he began. He laughed, a bit too nervously for his liking. “I’m sorry, just, just distracted. It doesn’t hurt that much, ya know.”

“How’d he get ya?” asked V.

To Viktor’s disappointment, V stepped away from the chair and walked towards his workbench. He didn’t miss how her hips swayed or how she bent over to grab his medical kit in a nearly exaggerated manner. The way she looked into his eyes while she straightened, all slow and sensual with those curves of hers, went immediately to his dick. He swallowed.

“Um,” he said stupidly. “He, uh, headbutted me. With his head.”

“Ouch,” she replied.

Before she returned to the flustered ripperdoc, V shimmied out of her bomber jacket and tossed it on his workbench. A tattered crop top pulled against her skin as she shook out her dark hair.

Viktor had the decency to rest his hands in his lap to shield the effect that the merc had on him.

Her tongue wet her lips as she fished through the kit for what she wanted. The glance she shot in his direction proved that there was no innocence in the act.

What the fuck was happening?

That question repeated itself over and over again in his mind as she again bent closely towards his body to apply a Q-tip to the wound, offering another delicious view of her ample breasts.

“Can I get some feedback, doc?” she asked quietly.

Viktor swallowed, his mouth dry like sand.

“Yeah, kid,” he replied lowly.

V paused her work to truly look at him, to gaze into those gorgeous eyes of his. Then, all calm and collected, V perched herself next to him at the edge of the operating chair. Viktor allowed her some room as she cupped his cheek with her other hand, her breasts resting on his torso as she leaned into him. Her thumb ghosted his skin, tempting. Teasing. Viktor ignored the urge to press against the throbbing hardness in his pants. The cut long forgotten, his attention was caught up in V’s eyes, the warmth of her skin, her smell, the sultriness of her voice.

“Do you want me?”

Her mouth was so close to his. The warmth of her breath tickled his skin like static. Viktor’s eyes shut in anticipation as V slowly drew herself to his lips.

He felt nothing, but heard the soft tear of paper. Viktor’s eyes fluttered open, brow crinkling in confusion. V had sat up and was unwrapping a small bandage, her eyes fixated on the task while he gaped at her. When it was open, she reached out and carefully applied the bandage to the cut on Viktor’s cheek.

“All done,” she stated in a chipper tone, a wide smile stretched from ear to ear.

Viktor smirked.

“Oh yeah?” he questioned. “Think you’re hot shit giving this old man a heart attack?”

“Think I gave you more than that, pretty boy.”

Her eyes flickered to his lap and back to those ocean eyes. Viktor sat up in the chair, his hands not budging as if his life depended on it.

“You never answered me,” said V, the playfulness gone from her voice and replaced with a feeling that Viktor found it hard to describe.

There was no mystery, however, to how he felt in hearing it. His heart melted at her words, at how the game was finally over and that she, beautiful V, wanted to know if he wanted her. A stupid question, really, but an important one all the same.

“Ah V,” he said with a sigh.

Panic alit her eyes like fire, but it was quickly doused as Viktor took her by the hand.

“Of course I do,” Viktor replied earnestly. He gave her hand a small squeeze. “I’d be a fuckin’ liar if I didn’t.”

For whatever reason, Viktor saw V blink as if there was something odd in what he said. The moment was short and quickly forgotten as V embraced him so hard that the pair fell back in his operating chair, his arm wrapped around waist and his lips pressed into her hair.

#viktor vector #cyberpunk 2077 #im tired af #ripperdoc

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