#possibly Another One in Strange Fake | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prael · 6 days ago

Text

Head-To-Head

Itzy Yuna & Artms/Loona Heejin x male reader smut [Commissioned fic]

Masterlist word count: 13,663 Kofi(donations/commissions)

There must be a reason. There's always a reason.

Yuna has this look in her eye when she's up to something, and she's always up to something.

She's the one who always has a plan to execute, a scheme to concoct, an idea to hatch. Everything usually aligns with a single, specific purpose: to be the best. To beat everyone at everything. It's why she's captain of the debate team and the track team. It's why she's the president of the student council. She's the type of person to do every possible extracurricular there is, and to dominate them all, no matter how small, no matter how seemingly irrelevant.

Though her every achievement is matched by another, and it eats at her like nothing else.

She's got this sweet smile, a gentle lilt to her voice, and the most charming laugh, but you've known her long enough to understand that none of it means she's on your side. Not always, anyway. Not until she's figured out what she wants. (You're not saying it's all fake. She is a sweet person, really. But there's something else behind her eyes that never disappears completely, no matter how hard she tries to cover it up.)

"Have you eaten today? You look a little pale," Yuna says, her brow furrowing with worry.

"I'm fine," you reply. "I had lunch. Just... a little tired."

"Are you sure? I don't want you to go hungry or overwork yourself. I'm sure it's tough being the principal's son. Are you eating your meals on time?"

Even for Yuna, this is a bit too much. A full-court press of concern, all focused on you. It feels like a trap. "Seriously, I'm okay. I'm just trying to work on a little project."

"Can I help?" She asks as she's already pulling her chair closer to you, so she's practically peering over your shoulder. "What are you working on?"

"It's not difficult. I'm fine. Thank you."

"Two minds are better than one," she playfully says as she leans in a little closer, her hair falling on your shoulder and touching your cheek. Then there's the smell, an expensive, intoxicating fragrance that sends a shiver down your spine and a warmth deep inside your gut.

"Yuna," you say, and even you're not quite sure if you're protesting or pleading. "I'm fine. You don't need to."

You feel her hand on your back. It's warm. Her thumb strokes back and forth. The pressure is gentle but persistent. "It's what friends are for, they help each other out," she says softly.

The touch is comforting, almost enough to make you melt right there on the spot. "I have to be able to do this alone. Thank you, really, thank you, but I'll be okay."

Her hand moves up, and now it's resting on the back of your neck. You can't help but tense up a little bit, and she must notice because her hand goes away.

"If you say so," Yuna says. "Then how about you let me buy you dinner later? It'll be my treat."

"No, no," you quickly reply. "You don't have to."

"Please, I insist. It'll make me feel better."

She's so convincing. That's the thing about Yuna. She has the kind of voice and manner that makes you believe whatever it is she's saying. You feel a strange sense of urgency, the way she says this, the way she's looking at you. You can't say no. "Okay. Thank you."

"See you after school." She stands up and walks out of the classroom.

That was weird. There's an explanation for it, but there's no way she could know, is there? She's always two steps ahead of everyone. How could she have found out about it when your father only told you the day before?

Your stomach growls.

Maybe you should have actually eaten lunch.

There are no classes at the moment, not with graduation right around the corner and the last of the finals coming to an end. You're sitting in the afternoon sun, enjoying the quiet before the evening rush. The breeze is cool and pleasant, and the grass is soft and plush. It's a good day to sit and relax.

There are not many people out in the courtyard, but you recognise the one that's been sitting out here almost as long as you have.

Heejin's sitting against a tree. Her hair is a little messy, as usual, but the soft breeze keeps it from being too unruly. Her clothes are a little loose as if she doesn't care about how she looks. She looks so peaceful, so tranquil, as she reads the book in her lap. She has her headphones on, listening to music and blocking out the rest of the world.

She's cute, you think.

You should probably stop staring.

(You're trying not to, you swear, but there's just something so... easy on the eyes, about Heejin.)

There's a sudden swirl of wind, a little stronger than before, that blows the trees. Leaves are swirling and fluttering, and the swaying of the branches breaks the shade that Heejin's tree provides. A ray of sunlight shines down on her, bright and beautiful. The glow makes her seem to shine, but she doesn't appreciate it, it blinds her for a moment, and you see the way her eyes narrow, and the annoyed look on her face.

It's enough to pull her out of her trance. Her gaze moves, and her eyes lock with yours. Her expression is flat and unamused. You can almost feel her judgement from here.

Oh. Yeah. Right. That's what you get for staring. You look away.

"Hey."

Oh no.

"Can we talk?"

You look up, and Heejin's standing over you. She's not smiling, but she's not frowning, either. Her face is neutral and expressionless, but you know it's because she doesn't have anything nice to say.

"Hi, uh," you nervously stammer. "What's up?"

She gestures at the space on the bench next to you. "Can I sit?"

"Go ahead." You slide a little bit to the side.

Heejin takes a seat. "I heard something from a friend, and I was wondering if it was true," she says. "I wanted to hear it from you directly, so I'm going to ask you."

"Yeah?"

Heejin looks at you straight on. She's not one to hold back. "Is your dad asking you to decide between me and Yuna for valedictorian?"

There it is. Confirmation of your suspicions. It makes little to no sense how it got out so quickly, or how it got out at all. The whole thing was meant to be a secret, after all. You hesitate to say anything.

She doesn't seem offended that you haven't answered. Instead, she says, "You don't have to tell me. I already know it's true."

You don't have an answer to that. Heejin is like this; one-sided conversations, like she has her own way of thinking about things. She's a bit blunt and brusque, and it's a bit jarring. It's the kind of honesty and openness that's a bit too raw to be considered polite.

"You don't seem very surprised," you finally reply.

Heejin gives you a shrug. "It's not surprising. The school's a bit of a mess. I'm not sure the principal has his shit together." She looks at you with a slight smirk. "No offence."

You let out a little chuckle. "Yeah. It's okay."

"Your dad's a little..." Heejin makes a vague gesture with her hand. "He's trying. He's trying to be a good principal, I can tell, but he's just a little, y'know, not great."

"I get it."

She lets out a soft laugh and shakes her head. "Well, he's your dad, I shouldn't shit talk him too much. But I mean, it's a pretty big deal that he's making his son pick between the top students. I think that's messed up, honestly."

"To be fair, there's no way to split the two of you," you try to explain. "You're putting up the exact same scores, all across the board. You're tied."

"Yeah. I know. I know." She leans back a bit on the bench and lets out a long sigh. "Yuna's tough to compete against. She always has her head in the game. She's got that look in her eye when she's on to you." Heejin looks at you. "You know what I mean, right?"

You nod your head in agreement. "I know."

"I've come to a conclusion: there's only one way to beat her. You know what I have to do, right?"

"...What?"

Heejin gives you a smirk and leans in. She rests her hand on your thigh. Your eyes go wide in shock, and she lets out a little giggle. "I have to convince you to let me be valedictorian." Her fingers squeeze the inside of your leg. "I can persuade you, right?"

Your hand snaps down to her wrist and holds her. "Heejin," you say, and your voice is a little shaky. "What are you—"

"Don't play dumb, I've seen the way you look at me," Heejin interrupts. "I see it, the way you're checking me out. I'm hot, right? You can say it, I don't mind."

She's such a straight shooter, there's no other way to describe her. There's no double entendre or sneaky little insinuation or subtle implication. It's just plain and simple. Heejin says exactly what she wants, no more, no less. There's something attractive about that. Something... exciting.

But this is a lot to process, especially when her hand's on your leg.

"I... um, I," you stutter. "I..."

"What the hell is this!?"

Oh no.

The voice makes the two of you jump a little. Yuna's marching up to the both of you, and she doesn't look happy. You let go of Heejin's hand, but it doesn't make much difference. Her hand's still on you, after all.

"Are you really stooping so low?" Yuna demands, pointing at Heejin.

"Talking to my friend? That's stooping low, now?" Heejin asks, raising an eyebrow. Her voice is casual and indifferent, almost as if she's goading her. "I can't talk to my friend anymore?"

"Get your hands off him, Heejin. It's not a good look." Yuna crosses her arms. "Don't you have any self-respect?"

Heejin lets go of your leg, but she's as unflustered as ever. "I was just talking to my friend. I can talk to him, can't I?"

"He has a lot on his mind. He doesn't need you distracting him."

Heejin rolls her eyes and starts on the defensive. "I wasn't doing anything like that." She stands up. "He has enough brains to think for himself." She looks at you, and there's a little smirk on her lips. "Right?"

You're about to reply, but Yuna steps between you and Heejin, the skirt resting on her wide hips in front of your face and blocking your view of Heejin. She's staring at Heejin. Her eyes are narrowed. "I don't know what you were doing, Heejin. But it wasn't just talking."

"I was giving him my suggestion," Heejin answers.

Yuna shakes her head. "He doesn't want your 'suggestions', whatever that is."

"He can speak for himself, y'know? He's a smart kid," Heejin says, a little more sharply. "If I wanted his attention, he'd give it to me. He knows what he wants. Don't you?" She asks, looking over at you with a little twinkle in her eye.

"I..." You swallow. It's a bit difficult to think when there's so much going on. "I..."

Heejin laughs a little at how you're a little lost for words. Yuna, though, is not nearly as amused. She steps closer to Heejin and leans in to say something. You don't hear what she's saying. It's too quiet for you to make it out. Heejin listens, and her smirk fades.

"Fine. Whatever," Heejin says. She walks away without a single glance at you.

"Wait," you say to her, standing up. You're about to follow her, but Yuna steps in the way again, and her expression makes you stop.

"What's wrong?" Yuna asks, blinking her wide, innocent eyes. "Is something the matter?"

"I was just gonna say goodbye," you reply. It seems silly to try to explain this, and Yuna is looking a bit impatient. You decide not to say more. "Never mind."

She smiles and links arms with you. She's a lot more close than she's usually been. She's pressed up to your side, her arm entwined with yours, her chest pressed up against your shoulder, soft and warm. You try to ignore it. You're trying not to read too much into things. But it's a little tough when Yuna's the one being affectionate like that. "I was thinking," she says, "we can grab some pizza for dinner if you don't mind."

You take a final glance at Heejin as she walks away. Her backpack is slung over one shoulder. Her headphones are back on. Her head is held high as she walks with a strut. Those long bare legs protrude from under her skirt.

Yuna pulls at you. "Come on."

Dinner is, well, dinner. You and Yuna talk, about the usual things. You both chat about what's next after graduation and then she tells you about her family and how her sister has been annoying her lately. You listen. You nod. You talk. You eat. You talk again. It's a little weird, but it's nice, and the pizza's great. You're grateful.

But you know it's all a game.

If Heejin knows the power you've been handed, then Yuna does, too. And if both of them know, then the only way to get ahead of each other is by being more persuasive. Heejin had a... direct method. Yuna, though, she's more subtle, but you're sure her intentions aren't any less self-centred.

She turns the conversation to questions, focusing on you, rather than her. She's batting her eyelashes as she asks you questions about the school, about your family, about your friends. It's all innocent enough, but you're not stupid. You've known Yuna long enough to understand how she's playing you. And she's good at it. It's almost too easy to fall under her spell, to fall for her charms. The way she leans closer to you. How her fingers run across your palm, tracing little circles. The way she laughs at all your jokes, even the ones you know are dumb. How her smile is always on her lips. How her eyes sparkle whenever she's listening. The way she tilts her head and pouts when she doesn't quite get something.

"You're so lucky to be the principal's son," she says as if it isn't an excuse to bring up the whole reason she's even sitting with you. "Must be fun having all the connections."

"It's not a big deal." You shrug. "He just treats me like a normal student." Mostly. "I don't get anything out of it. He's a little strict on me, honestly."

"I don't know, there must be some perks to it," Yuna insists. "I'd kill to be able to have that kind of privilege."

"Yeah? Like what?" you ask. You take another sip of your drink.

"I don't know." She runs a hand through her hair, brushing the strands out of her face, and lets out a little laugh. "You get to be first for everything, don't you?"

You shrug. "Not really."

"And you can probably flunk a class and just make your dad pass you anyway." She winks. "No?"

"Not how that works," you reply. You're getting the sense she's trying to work up to a point.

"Okay, maybe not, but there's got to be something good." She smiles. "You've got any secrets?"

You raise an eyebrow. "What kind of secrets?"

"Oh, come on," she playfully insists. "I bet your dad's told you all the juicy gossip about the teachers and staff, right? Or maybe even about students?"

You don't answer. She takes that as an affirmative.

"Oooh, you're holding out on me. I wanna know!" Yuna grabs your hands and leans closer to you. Her shirt hangs low on her neck, exposing a little more cleavage than you're comfortable seeing. "Tell me a secret. Something interesting."

"Like what?" you ask. You know you probably should lean away, but it feels a bit too rude to do that.

"Anything. Something fun." She squeezes your hand. "I promise I won't tell. Come on. Just between the two of us."

You feel like she's closing in on you. You can smell the faint scent of her perfume, just like earlier in the afternoon, and her eyes are twinkling, her lips pouting ever so slightly. The warmth of her skin against yours, the way her thumb is rubbing your palm. "Okay, fine." You look around, making sure no one else can hear. "The art teachers, she, uh..."

"Yeah?"

"She's getting a divorce, turns out she's into women."

"Oh my god." She blinks and covers her mouth in surprise. "No way."

"It's true," you say. "There's been a whole thing, her husband found out about an affair, it's all messy. Don't tell anyone, okay? I wasn't meant to tell."

"I won't," she says, a coy smile on her face. "Don't worry. I can keep secrets. Your secret's safe with me." She leans back, but her hand doesn't let go of yours. "But it's not just gossip, right? Does your dad ever, you know..." Her other hand joins her first, her palms rubbing your knuckles, her skin warm and soft against yours, her fingers stroking and massaging you. "Ask you for advice? Maybe you have some sway on how things get run at school, huh? I'm just curious, I swear."

It's an obvious question, and it's the kind that you expected she might try to ask, eventually. "Sometimes, yeah."

She nods. Her hands don't stop. They continue to caress and stroke, her touch gentle and comforting, but also firm, persistent, almost suggestive. The sensation makes you tingle a little, a little buzz running through your body. "That must be fun," she murmurs. "So has he asked for any advice lately?"

You know exactly what she wants, but she hasn't quite asked for it directly. You decide to tease her. "Yeah. I guess he's asked a bit recently."

"Oh, really?" She leans forward again, her lips just inches away from yours. "Like what?"

"About, uh, some stuff," you answer vaguely. You can't tell her exactly, you want to hear her ask it.

"Maybe I could help. Maybe we can talk about it and figure it out together." Her hand's moving up from yours and now she's stroking up your forearm, slowly rubbing it. Her touch feels so good, and her eyes are locked on yours, unblinking, her gaze focused solely on you. She bites her lip a little. "If he asked about something like... I don't know..."

You smile. She knows. And she's playing coy, pretending that she doesn't know what she wants. You can't let that stand. You can't let her get away with it. "Spit it out."

"Maybe..." Her eyes glance to the side. "...who to choose for valedictorian?"

It's about time she asks. "And what do you think?" you ask, a sly grin creeping up on you. "You got a suggestion?"

Yuna blushes a little and lets out a giggle. "Me."

"You?"

"Yeah. I think I'd be the best fit. Don't you?" She bats her eyelashes. "My scores are the best—

"—Joint best."

"And my extra-curricular; I have the most—"

"—Joint most."

"And I'm the president, captain, leader of—"

"—Joint leader, captain and president."

"Are you just gonna keep doing that?" Yuna pouts.

"Doing what?"

"Joint," she says, imitating you, her voice lowering. "Joint. Joint. Joint. I mean, yeah, I get it. But you can't say that Heejin is really better than me, is she?"

You shrug.

"Is she? I don't think she is. I know her grades are as good as mine, but she doesn't put in as much work as me. I've been putting my blood, sweat and tears into all these clubs, all the things I'm in. She's just... doing things because she has nothing better to do. I'm actually trying, I'm working so hard, and I know that's worth something." She gives you a look that's somehow innocent and imploring, while simultaneously persuasive. "I deserve to be valedictorian."

You're not going to argue with her, she does deserve it. They both do.

Yuna keeps going, "You can help me, you know. We're friends. I've always been nice to you, haven't I? Do this for me and I'll owe you. Big time. I mean it. I will be very, very, grateful."

She trying so desperately to entice you, and she's doing her very best. The way her eyes twinkle and flutter as she speaks to you. The way her voice goes a little high-pitched and squeaky, the way she pouts her lips and widens her eyes. She leans so far over the table that she hits her drink and sends it tumbling. The glass shatters as it hits the floor and the two of you flinch from the sound.

"Oh my god!" Yuna gasps. "I'm so sorry, oh my god!" She jumps off her chair. The staff are quickly making their way over, and Yuna immediately apologises to them, a look of utter embarrassment on her face. "I'm sorry, it was an accident!"

The staff wave it off and start to clean up. You offer to help, but they refuse, so instead, you think it best to pay and call an end to dinner.

"That's so embarrassing, oh my god," Yuna groans. She covers her face with her hands and shakes her head. "I'm such an idiot, I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it, it was an accident." You smile. The sun has almost set and the sky has turned a dusky orange and purple. The cool breeze in the evening air is pleasant and relaxing. You let out a sigh. You feel refreshed, and there's something to appreciate about the quiet. But the night's coming in, and you know you have to go back. "I'll walk you home," you offer.

Yuna smiles at you gratefully, and the two of you make the trip together.

The lady's dorms aren't far from your own. You're about to leave and head home when Yuna suddenly grabs you by the wrist. "Wait, don't go yet."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just want to give you something before you go."

"Like what?" you ask. "I already owe you dinner, so..."

"No, no, don't worry about that. This is something different." Yuna steps close to you and wraps her arms around you. You tense up, unsure, but you let her embrace you, her arms around your waist and her hands against your back. "A hug."

"A hug?"

"Yup. A big hug." Yuna rests her chin against your chest, looking up at you. Her eyes are twinkling and her smile is sweet. She squeezes you tighter and leans into you. "For being a good friend. For listening to me talk about all the stupid things in my life. For coming out to dinner with me." Her hand rubs against your back. "And for being so nice."

"Um..." You're a little taken aback by this sudden act of kindness. You wrap your arms around her, too, hugging her back. You're not quite sure if this is a bit much. Yuna can be friendly, but this feels a little excessive, even for her. She's holding onto you, her body pressed up against yours, and it's making you a little uncomfortable. "Thanks. That's, uh, really nice. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Yuna murmurs and her voice is low and soft, her eyes staring right at yours, unblinking. Her body is so soft against yours, her skin feels smooth and warm, and her embrace feels like it's melting into your own. You can't help but notice her body, her curves, the way her hips and chest seem to press into you. It feels like she's trying to make you notice. "So... do you think you'll help me?"

"Help you?" you ask.

"About... y'know..." Yuna tilts her head a little and leans back to look up at you, but her hands stay firmly planted on your back. She smiles playfully. "The valedictorian thing?"

"I, um, I haven't really—"

"—thought about it? Yeah. Okay." She pouts. "Do you need more time?"

"Maybe," you admit. "I haven't really been—"

"—been thinking about it. I know." Yuna steps back and lets you go. She smiles at you again, but this time, it seems a bit more... sultry? Seductive? "Okay, fine. But you'll have my eternal gratitude if you help me, I swear."

She turns and skips into her building, and you stand there for a second, watching as the doors close behind her. Then, you turn and start walking back to your dorm. It's dark out and you have a long walk, so you decide to take the scenic route. You pass by the school fields, past the baseball and soccer grounds, and then you pass the gym and pool buildings. Finally, you cross the courtyard, heading for your dorm.

You're about halfway across when you notice a figure on the benches. The same figure as earlier.

"Aren't you cold?" you call out, walking up to Heejin. She's still in her uniform, but she doesn't seem to be wearing anything to protect her from the night chill. She's still sitting there, legs crossed and head resting on one hand.

She looks up at you as you approach. "A little, yeah."

"Why are you out here?"

"Why not?" She shrugs. "It's nice. Peaceful."

You can't argue with that. You look up at the night sky and take a deep breath, letting the cool air fill your lungs. The silence is nice. It feels like the world has stopped, the universe has paused to give you a moment of quiet. "You can still enjoy it while wearing a jacket, maybe a hoodie. Switch out that skirt for some sweats."

Heejin smiles. "You sound like my dad."

"I didn't know your dad was such a smart guy."

"He isn't," she jokes. She lets out a soft laugh, and then she looks back up at you. "So why are you out here?"

"Walking home. Passing by."

"Did she take you somewhere nice?" Heejin suddenly asks with a knowing smirk. There's no malice in her voice. If anything, she sounds amused.

"Dinner. Pizza."

"Sounds romantic," she remarks, with the tone of someone who means the exact opposite. "Did it work? Are you persuaded?" She leans back on the bench, stretching her arms out and spreading them wide across the back. Her position exposes more of her, the skirt rising higher. You can see the smooth curves of her legs, the muscles that have developed from years of track and dance. They look inviting.

"It was just dinner. We talked. That's all," you explain.

"Just talked," Heejin repeats. She's clearly sceptical. "Just talked," she repeats again, emphasising it.

"Just talked," you reaffirm.

"Sure. Fine," Heejin says with a playful roll of her eyes. She leans forward now, clasping her hands together and settling them between her bare knees. She leering at you, now. Her smirk is suggestive, even seductive. It feels like she's toying with you, almost mocking you. "What did she offer you?"

"Uh, nothing. Just that she would owe me one."

"Yeah, she would owe you one," Heejin drawls, nodding her head patronisingly. "Bet she said it with real suggestive eyes, too, and she touched you, maybe held your arm or something, right? Like, really obviously trying to imply she'll fuck you if you made her valedictorian?"

Your throat runs dry and Heejin just laughs to herself.

"At least I know what I'm up against," Heejin remarks. She stands up, slings her bag over her shoulder, and steps closer to you. She's looking straight at you. Her expression is stern, determined, and serious. Her eyes are narrowed and intense, staring into yours, penetrating through you. "Here's my counter-offer: I'll suck you off, right now. We'll go to your room, you sit down on the bed, take off your pants, I'll drop to my knees and blow you."

Holy shit, Heejin's really serious. She doesn't blink, her gaze remains focused on you.

"Then you pick me. You make me valedictorian."

You're silent. Speechless. There's no subtlety, no suggestion, no implication, no hinting. There's a credit to be given for honesty. You can respect the fact that she's not hiding what she wants, or trying to play games or manipulate you. It's refreshingly direct and simple. And yet, it's Heejin. The girl who quietly sits in class and aces every test. Who beats everyone's times in track. Who performs in competitions as a hobby. Everyone admires her. Everyone wants to be her friend. To have her say that, to offer that...

"You're blushing," Heejin says, smirking. She steps even closer, standing on her tip-toes, bringing her mouth closer to your ear, her hot breath hitting you and making you shiver. "Take me to your dorm," she whispers. "I'll make you cum until you can't even think anymore."

There's not an ounce of shame in her. Not the slightest hint of guilt. She's absolutely certain that she's in control and that you're weak and malleable, willing to succumb to her. She's got no doubt in her mind that she's completely dominating you, that she's utterly in charge.

Yuna throws herself onto her bed, feeling incredibly pleased with herself. Step one is complete. She picked out a cute outfit that looked innocent, but still enticing. She chose a restaurant that had a casual atmosphere, but still allowed them to sit and talk comfortably. She held his hand, she stared deeply into his eyes, she smiled at him and laughed at all his stupid jokes. And yes, it was embarrassing when she accidentally spilt her drink, but it worked out! He walked her home and gave her a hug, which was perfect. A perfect opportunity to tempt him with her body, and show off her curves. A preview of what he can have if he obeys. If he bends to her will.

Ryujin is listening to all the details of how Yuna thinks she has you wrapped around her little finger. Ryujin can't help but shake her head at her friend's naivety. Sure, maybe she got a few moments where she could entice you, but Ryujin knows you can't be won over by cheap tricks and flirtatious looks. What you need is someone more bold. Someone bolder, someone who will make the first move, and then take charge.

"...and then we hugged, and he was totally into me, I felt his heart beat faster, he was sooo excited," Yuna enthusiastically tells Ryujin. "And then he was just staring at me as I walked up the steps. He was, like, ogling my legs."

"Wow," Ryujin answers, with little enthusiasm. "Did he agree to make you valedictorian?"

"Kinda," Yuna answers. "Well, no. But he will. Trust me."

"You think that's enough? Empty promises and some light flirting?" Ryujin shakes her head and lets out a dismissive laugh. "Bare minimum."

"What? Do you want me to just ask him outright if he wants to bang? That's not how people work, they aren't direct like that," Yuna protests.

"You think Heejin is just gonna do the same? You think Heejin's gonna hold his hand and giggle at his shitty puns?"

"Yes," Yuna insists.

"Nope," Ryujin immediately corrects. "If she finds out that you took him out to dinner and tried to flirt with him, she's going to do something about it."

"Like what?"

"She's going to beat you. She's going to be bold, brash, and blunt, and she's going to seduce him so hard he doesn't have a choice," Ryujin confidently replies.

Yuna scoffs. "Yeah, right. Heejin's gonna seduce him? Please." She rolls her eyes and waves a dismissive hand. "She's pretty but there's no way she's going to throw herself at him."

Even as Yuna says it, the doubt creeps into her mind. Heejin did have her hand on your lap. And her legs... she wasn't exactly covering much. What if she takes it a step further? That uncertainty turns into something else, and Yuna starts to feel a little paranoid. "Oh my god," she says, a frown on her face, sitting up as if she's suddenly had a revelation. "So, hypothetically, maybe, just maybe, she somehow finds out that I went to dinner with him. Maybe, hypothetically, she decides to act, like, bold and seduce him."

Ryujin gives a long sigh and shakes her head. "That's exactly what she's gonna do. There's only one person on earth who cares about accolades as much as you, and that's Heejin. She's going to get what she wants, and that's graduation as valedictorian, even if she has to give up her dignity to do it." Ryujin tilts her head and adds, as if it were obvious, "You should be in his room right now."

"Fuck."

Yuna left the dorm immediately, and she is walking that same route you did just ten minutes earlier, her entire body charged with a sense of urgency, her heart pumping with nerves. She's trying to stay calm, but there's no way to not admit that this is, potentially, bad. Very bad.

The anxiety gnaws at her, and as she rushes through the darkness, she starts to wonder what Heejin might be doing right now, what she might say to him, and the kind of persuasion she might use. She doesn't trust Ryujin's words, no, but they keep echoing in her head.

'She's going to be bold, and brash, and blunt, and she's going to seduce him so hard he won't have a choice.'

The thought strikes her, the terrible feeling of just not knowing what's going on in your room. Yuna wants to bash down your door, throw herself in, and see for herself. It's driving her a little crazy.

Yuna takes a moment to process what this could mean for her, what could possibly be going on behind the walls, in the building ahead of her. She can't just walk in alone, no, it's the men's dorm. But... she overheard it once. A few guys were jealous that you had the solo dorm, the big room on the bottom floor at the end of the building. So she could probably work out which window is yours. Then, well, one look inside to see you relaxing, hopefully, alone...

Yuna steps off the path and begins to round the building. It's dark and quiet out, but that just makes her feel like it's even more indecent and dirty that she's finding excuses to spy on you. There are no lights on in the rooms above, it looks like everyone else in the building is either asleep or has gone out for the night. Your window, though, your room... there's definitely a light on.

She draws close, and when she rounds the corner, she peeks up. There's you, just standing in the room. Just the sight of you alone gives her relief.

Until the peeks a little further. Her eyes go wide and her breath catches in her throat.

It's Heejin.

She's on her knees, still wearing her uniform, but with the top few buttons popped, and her hair tied up in a ponytail. You're looking down at her, eyes fixed on hers. One hand's in her hair, your fingers running through it, stroking her hair. You look so pleased, so satisfied. So relaxed and comfortable.

Heejin's hands are on your hips, and Yuna notices her long, elegant fingers pressing into you. She looks so confident, so smug. So in control. So in charge. Yuna can feel the rage inside.

How could this be possible? This can't be happening. There's no way. There's no way.

Heejin grabs your hip and drags you closer, her other hand sliding up under your shirt. Her nails lightly scrape against your skin. She smiles when you flinch, and the expression on your face shows you're enjoying yourself.

Under her breath, Yuna mutters, "No fucking way. She's..."

She's sucking your cock.

Yuna stares. She stares and she can't stop. She can't tear her eyes away from the sight of Heejin, her lips around your length, taking you deep into her mouth. You're looking down at her, playing with her hair. The look of bliss on your face is impossible to ignore.

Heejin's skilled, Yuna realises with a growing sense of horror. She knows her way around it, with her lips circling the tip, tongue swirling and coating you in saliva, and her lips then easing your length further inside her. It's so fluid and smooth, and she's only using her mouth. How good must it feel?

She can imagine it. The hot, moist mouth on you, the soft, wet insides, the pressure of a mouth wrapping around you. The hum of approval as she continues to tease and play. The slurping and slobbering sounds. How it would look like her taking you deeper and deeper, her forehead touching the base, and how her throat would tighten around you.

Yuna feels her body ache. She's watching her position as valedictorian be sucked away down Heejin's throat. The girl whose a joint first, the same as her, is all but sealing her own victory with your climax. Her eyes are wide, staring at the scene in front of her, her fingers dug into the palm of her hand. This is absurd, impossible, unbelievable.

Heejin can't win like this. There's no way Heejin's better than her. Is she?

There's only one way she can stop it.

Heejin's sucking your brains out through your dick, making your spine tingle and your breath come in jagged and short gasps. It's nothing but pleasure for you. There are no thoughts, no conscious mind, just the sensation in your core.

Her mouth slides up and down, dragging up your shaft, her tongue sliding along it, licking and tasting the salty mixture of precum and spit. She draws her lips up your head, right to the tip, where she teases you with her tongue before plunging you back into the depths of her throat.

God, it feels amazing, every second of it. You can hear her gagging, choking, the sounds are so vivid and raw that you can't help but groan, tightening your grasp of her ponytail, just like she asked you to. She likes it. You can tell she likes it by the way she inhales every time you pull her close and shove yourself into her. Her nails dig into your ass, dragging you closer to her as you press up against the back of her throat, and she's showing no sign of relenting.

This can't last, though. This kind of sensation, the ecstasy and passion and tension, has a breaking point, and you know your orgasm is coming. Heejin does too, because her pace starts picking up, and her head bobs faster up and down your shaft, her throat choking on your head, her mouth so tight and warm around you.

You fight it, the urge, the need to finish. You want this to last forever, you want it to keep going, the feeling of her lips, her throat, the sloppy noises of her sucking you dry. But the orgasm is inevitable. Your hands instinctively drag her to you, and you can feel the tremble in your hips, the buildup in your balls and the tightness in your pelvis.

But it's all fucking ruined. A bang on the door.

"What the fuck is that?" Heejin asks, pulling you from her mouth with a sloppy 'pop'.

The bang on the door happens again, more frantic this time.

"The fuck do they think they're—" Heejin groans in frustration. She wipes the cum and spit from her lips and chin with the back of her arm. "You have to tell whoever that is to fuck off."

"I, uh, yeah." You pull up your boxers, leaving your trousers open, you prepare to peek your head around the door and let the asshole who's ruining the moment know to get lost. You pull it open to just a crack, enough to bark out a bunch of curses, but you're taken aback by what you see:

Yuna.

"Yuna?" You blink a few times, trying to make sure it's not some delusion. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"I— uh," Yuna stutters, looking a bit uncomfortable. She takes a deep breath, composes herself, and looks you directly in the eye. "Can I come in? I need to talk to you."

"Um, now's not a really good time." You glance over your shoulder, and you see Heejin perched on the edge of your bed. Her legs are crossed and her skirt is so far up her leg it's revealing the entirety of one thigh and just a little of her ass. She has her school shirt pulled a bit too low, giving an even better glimpse of her cleavage.

"It won't take a minute," Yuna quickly says. She tries to give you an imploring, and a pleading, look. "Please? I have an offer for you."

"Okay, um." You glance over your shoulder again. Heejin raises her eyebrows, looking amused. You bite your lip.

Yuna is staring at you with as much focus and persistence as she can muster. "I promise my offer is better than hers."

How the fuck do these girls seem to know everything? "Yuna—"

"I know she's in there, don't play dumb."

There's no denying it now, she knows.

"What the fuck are you doing in his room?" Yuna calls out to Heejin.

"Thought that was obvious," Heejin replies from behind you.

"You're—"

"Doing exactly what you wanted to do!" Heejin calls out to interrupt her.

Yuna goes quiet for a second, and then she holds out her hands. "Let me in."

"Yuna, listen, we're kinda in the middle of something," you protest.

"You were. You aren't anymore. I came along and now you have an offer to listen to, right? So let me in." Yuna is insistent. "Now."

You sigh and take a step back to let her pass.

She wastes no time. She walks right past you and into your room, heads straight for Heejin, and glares down at her. "So, is this how you planned to win? Sucking him off? A blowjob? Really?"

Heejin smirks and doesn't seem ashamed. If anything, it almost seems like a challenge.

"Okay. Whatever," Yuna goes on. "We're here now. We're all three together. And—" She turns her head and looks right at you. "—you're choosing one of us. Right here, right now." Yuna drops to her knees, her dark eyes locked onto yours as she pleads through them. She unbuttons her shirt completely and lets it fall off her arms. Underneath is a lingerie bra that holds her full breasts, its fabric thin and mostly see-through. "I'm better than her," she pleads.

There's no shame, no embarrassment. She's offering up her body in the name of competition. Her confidence has outpaced her modesty, and she doesn't care. Her body is on display, and she's daring you to look.

"Not really convincing enough," Heejin says dryly, leaning back, with one eyebrow raised.

You're still reeling—utterly astonished by this whole situation—by how absurd it's become. Everything is escalating so quickly, and your mind can barely keep up. These two beauties are squaring off against each other, a contest of sex to see who gets the status they crave. They both want the valedictorian position. Both students with the best grades and perfect attendance managed to find time to lead school societies and run after-school clubs.

Now, they've come to you for the deciding vote. They are both offering up their bodies, their most valuable assets, to earn it. A bit silly. A strange plan.

There's this mixture of amusement and disgust on Heejin's face as she looks over Yuna. This sort of derisive curl of her lip, combined with a half-hearted roll of her eyes. "Wasn't sure you had it in you, to be honest." She lays back against the bed, adjusting her skirt, letting the hem rise even higher on her legs. "Don't get me wrong, I always had you pegged as a bit of a slut."

Yuna just about manages not to show her outrage. "Yeah? You're the whore spreading her legs."

Heejin gives a small laugh, and again she shrugs and doesn't seem fazed. It's like she's unbothered by the insult like it's little more than a light breeze against her skin. "Just playing the game. Just like you, right?"

"This is crazy," you announce. "If the principal found out you're both in my room—"

"—this stays between the three of us," Heejin says, standing up.

"Yeah," Yuna echoes. She's still on her knees, the straps of her lingerie hanging from her shoulders, the shirt thrown on the floor, her plump breasts bare and exposed. "We don't tell anyone what happens here."

"Fuck," you breathe out. "You're serious."

Both girls nod.

They both want it, and they're prepared to do anything to get it. This rivalry is such a natural part of who they are, and who they've always been. How neither was able to stop the other or to find a better way to resolve things, is all connected back to what they must think is inevitable about themselves. They aren't friends, the two of them. Heejin and Yuna, they also aren't simply just competitors—rivals—those words don't go far enough, to explain their relationship. It's one of such dedication and passion, such pride and achievement, that to have someone matching every accomplishment, every grade, every victory, must drive them mad.

You remember watching a nature program once, something about wildlife, some documentary explaining how two aspiring leaders of a pride ended up locked in a rivalry. Though you can't quite remember all the details, something about a rift forming and how things had spiralled out of control between them. If only there was a way for them to live in harmony, some animal expert would have said at the end of the show, sadly shaking his head.

You look at the two of them. Harmony is a million miles away.

Yuna takes you by the hand, pulling your fingers and inviting you to touch her. Her hands guide yours, moving them over the curve of her breasts, and her soft, warm, skin. Her chest rises and falls steadily under your palm, and you caress her, touch her, cup her. You move one hand up, running over the length of her neck, up her jaw, to her cheeks and her ears. You brush her hair out of the way with your thumb, and she shifts forward. Her dark eyes are staring up at you, and you feel a shock run through your body.

"I swear I'm so much better than her," Yuna promises, in the quietest voice you've ever heard. It's soft, but there's also an intensity to it, a persistence like a raindrop hitting stone. "Trust me."

Pursed lips near the tip of your cock. Yuna's warm breath kisses the tip. She moves her tongue up, licking across your head. She's different to Heejin, more tentative, slower, and focused entirely on the feeling. Her touch is more gentle, less ferocious and domineering. When she takes you into her mouth, you can feel the sensation of her carefully tracing your length with the tip of her tongue, coiling you up inside, making you tingle, sparks coursing through your spine.

Yuna is watching you closely, her gaze not straying from your face for one second, as if she's so eager to see your reactions to her touch. Her gaze is focused, and intense, and she appears satisfied with how you're enjoying yourself. It feels incredible. Something about the eye contact, her attentive and focused style, and the way her lips glide up and down with pure reverence, is driving you crazy.

Heejin is behind you, trying to draw your attention. One of her arms wraps around your torso, her hand stroking across your front, exploring and exploring, her fingernails dragging over you in teasing lines. The heat of her breath hits your ear, hot enough to make you shiver, and you suddenly feel her bite your lobe. She knows where to attack, and she starts raining kisses along the side of your neck. Small nips and nibbles. Up to your jaw, tracing lines of heat along your skin. On your ear, her soft, red lips, suckling, her teeth leave little marks. When she sees your eyes are still on Yuna, a throaty, husky, disapproving purr in your ear. "Oh no you don't. Pay attention to me."

Her slender fingers tug at your jaw, turning you towards her. Kisses rain down on your mouth, not satisfied until her lips are plastered across yours. She strokes the tip of her tongue across your own, inviting you to taste, to explore. Her kiss makes you quiver inside, almost melting you, making every part of you tremble and weaken.

But it's when Yuna caresses you further, her hands finding your ass and grabbing tight, dragging your cock deep into her throat. The sound that erupts from you only spurs her on further.

You hear Heejin murmur quietly into your ear while running her hand through your hair, "Enjoying this?"

You swallow, taking a moment to compose yourself. You open your mouth to speak, only for your tongue to trip over an answer.

"I'm sure she's great and all," Heejin continues, "but you want the best, right?" She plants another kiss on your mouth, giving you a tempting taste, and keeping you close. "You must miss how much better I am."

Yuna's efforts begin to escalate, hearing the conversation continue. Determination has been written over her face. Now, however, her eyes dart up to glare at her competitor. It's cute, seeing how hard she's trying.

Heejin slips one of her hands under Yuna's cheek, her nails scratching lightly, scraping down her chin. She hooks them underneath and guides the girl's head, forcing Yuna's movement to stop. You can feel the subtle vibrations of Yuna letting out an annoyed groan.

"I bet you're not even close, are you? You can't cum from this, right?" Heejin's voice is soft and saccharine, dripping with mock sincerity.

"You're trying to piss her off," you point out.

"Good," Heejin drawls. "Does it piss her off, knowing that it's me who can finish the job?"

A frustrated Yuna ducks her head free from Heejin and takes you back into her mouth, starting anew, trying to prove something to someone. She's different now, you notice. Feistier, and more insistent. No more gentle, careful movements. She's moved on from worship, now charging through to ravish. She takes you hard, quickly, and thoroughly. There is an unrelenting pace to her. No patience, no playing, just the relentless need to do. She pulls and pushes, pressing and sucking, burying her nose at the base.

You wince at the heat, the slickness, how her tongue now massages you as her lips firmly embrace you. She's gripping hard at your ass, driving you onto her tongue. The warmth of her breath against your flesh is impossible to ignore. Hot breaths, soft and humid, leave goosebumps on your skin.

This new attitude has gotten the better of you. You can't help but give in. Threads of pleasure entwine up the length of your spine, each sharp twist of Yuna's mouth drawing the sweetest song out of you. Heejin has stolen your voice as a chorus is crawling up your throat, and you can barely hope to keep it down.

There's no stopping you, the finish is inevitable. You move to pull out, to stop yourself, yet Yuna swallows around you in response, taking you deeper into her waiting throat. Not a hint of an intention to let go. No, Yuna refuses to stop until you've emptied every single drop inside.

Heejin still won't relent, either. She kisses a constellation on your shoulder, up the side of your neck, her sweet caresses are lingering, teasing your flesh, dancing fingertips that burn in the best way. It doesn't do anything to soothe the tension inside.

You fill her mouth, flooding her with thick ropes. You can't imagine what it might feel like, all that hot fluid sliding down into her stomach. Once, then twice, then a third time, you spill inside, shuddering and groaning in release.

Yuna drags a heavy breath. It's not even over, as she's already trying to take you deeper. "Mm," Yuna moans, her voice trembling. She nuzzles forward, eagerly coaxing what's left, accepting the remaining throbs against her tongue, swallowing when she has to. You shiver at how she seems so hungry for every drop, her strength only seems to grow the more she drinks. She finally lets you out of her mouth with a pop and flashes a grin.

"So nice of her to finish what I started," Heejin quips and Yuna glares at her. "After I did all the work."

"Maybe you should've finished the job instead of talking shit," Yuna throws back.

Heejin tilts her head a little. "I have much better ideas. Want to see?" She smirks.

Heejin sits on the edge of your desk, reaching out to take your hand. She presses your palm to her chest, just above her breast, her uniform top exposing a tantalizing window of skin.

You look at her. Her eyes. The shape of her face, the sharp lines of her jaw, the elegant arch of her brows, the curve of her nose. The pretty rosy tint in her cheeks. Then her mouth. Her bitten lips, the long neck, the exposed part of her chest. Heejin knows how to pull you in.

Your mind is blank, just fixated on her, how gorgeous she looks. She's pulling open her shirt, unbuttoning it, unhooking her bra. She's undressing, putting herself on display, only for you. It's entrancing.

Her body is perfect, lean and toned, the sculpted muscle and firm curves making her look like a piece of art. Beautiful. Then her legs, perfect thighs, the muscles not too built, but trim and taut, soft to the touch.

She bunches her skirt at her waist, exposing her panties, those small scraps of silken fabric, almost see-through, the threads clinging to the contours of her hips and the mound between her legs. Heejin draws her hand there, exploring the smooth cloth, the delicate lingerie highlighting the body underneath.

She slips her thumb below the edge of the fabric, her fingers following, before she peels them down her legs, shuffling them past her thighs and her knees and kicking them off her feet. Her bare skin is tantalizing, her body like a vision of unknown riches. "Do you like what you see?" she asks, her voice pure silk.

"What the fuck?" It's Yuna's exclamation, and the shock inside it, which makes you tear your gaze away. She is sitting on the floor, in her dishevelled uniform, pieces of clothing half-unbuttoned and hanging off her. "Is there a limit? How far are you going to go?"

"I told you, I have ideas," Heejin emphasises the plurality. She's completely unabashed, and without hesitation, she pulls you by the scruff of your shirt, towards her. A handful of you, drawing you between her legs, and then laying her lips on your skin. Traces of kisses on your chest, the brush of her tongue, her lips, her teeth. Words spoken against your body with hot breath, "Don't mind her. Enjoy me, instead."

It's like being drawn into the ocean. Heejin is pulling you in. Her serenity becomes calming and comforting, and there's no way to escape the feeling. She locks her legs around your hips, her hands grasping and caressing you. Nails digging into your skin and trailing along it. Each pull and tug on you is possessive. You run your hands over her skin. Soft thigh, plump breast, toned waist. Each part is addictive, and you can't decide which to take. You caress her face, running your hand over her cheek, letting her dark eyes shine with affection as she smiles, lifting her head to steal a kiss.

Yuna, the frustrated voyeur, can only watch as you grind yourself against Heejin, rubbing yourself along the sodden line between her legs. With each pass, her fluids cover the tip, smearing them and soaking the end. Each roll gets harder to fight, your instincts telling you to rush the heat into something more.

"There we go," Heejin murmurs. "No need to rush. Take your time. Enjoy me," she insists, encouraging you, "and I can show you just how much I can please you."

Tender. Gentle. This isn't some quick fuck, this is Heejin spoiling you. Worship, desire, lust. Each glance into her eyes sends a bolt of thrill into your gut, and your length continues to swell. Your mind becomes more and more intoxicated with each fresh coat, your cock aching, slowly and frustratingly sinking into her. You hold her thighs, lift them, and drag her closer. She squeaks with your grip, her body shuddering with one steady breath. "Mm, yes," she groans.

"Take me," she begs, and it's a plea that you simply cannot resist. A shuddering sigh of her pleasure at last releases, her head tilting back in an agonising cry. You slide as deep as you can go. No. Deeper. Your pace is agonising. Too slow. Far, far too slow. You grind into her, taking every chance to relish how her body clenches around you.

You know why she's doing this. Why she wants you to focus on her and forget about the other girl in the room. Why she wants to convince you, with every stroke of your cock inside, that she's the one who deserves it most. Yuna might have made you climax, but Heejin? Heejin has you mesmerised. Every twitch of her inner walls against you feels exquisite. Addictive. You want nothing more than to plunge into her again and again, desperate to take it all, all the wet, wonderful friction. Your grip on her hips tightens, holding her close as your bodies collide.

Yuna lets out a sound of frustration and disappointment. Her lips hang parted, unable to believe what she's seeing, gazing on as you are slowly overtaken. The two of you panting. Squeaking gasps from Heejin. Your own groans and grunts. Yuna mutters something, glaring daggers into the pair of you, though her words don't fully register in your mind.

"Mmm..." Heejin breathes, and with another squeeze, she guides your hands up to her chest. You massage her breasts, tracing shapes around her nipples. Your fingers trail and play and press, cupping and squeezing and massaging. Heejin melts into you, gasping for air, her body tingling. She moans a long, languid sigh of bliss, then bites down on her bottom lip.

The motions are so languid, every instant stretching out forever. Heejin's petite body feels so tender beneath you, so pliable. Like it was designed to be adored. Your every thrust is answered by hers, your bodies coming together as one.

When Heejin's fingernails dig into your shoulder blades, urging you closer, you grab her face. You tilt it upward, toward you. Her dark brown eyes meet yours.

Then her body shivers, quakes, stiffens, and spasms. The tight, squeezing depths within her constrict, compressing you. She holds onto you even harder than before. Her teeth bite down on her lip. A yelp turns into a whimper, which turns into a silent cry until all the sensations inside seem to boil over. She writhes in orgasm, her body racked by waves of euphoria, unable to control her reaction. She clings tightly, and the waves of ecstasy ripple outwards, travelling throughout her entire frame. Even her voice is distorted. Her breath catches and she quivers, gasping loudly. She struggles, her grip on you tightening, her body twisting and contorting as she shakes violently.

And you would be excused for thinking that would be it. That her delicate little body could take no more.

But you would be wrong.

She's snaking her fingers into your hair, drawing you to her as she falls flat against the desk. You're over her now. You're fucking her, down against the wood of the desk, nails digging into her thighs. She writhes and whines beneath you, her pants unashamed and delightfully arousing, her red face begging for more.

She's beautiful. All long limbs, dark eyes, soft skin, the supple flesh yielding under your rough treatment.

"Give me everything you've got," she taunts, and she's about to say more, it's on the tip of her tongue, but when you hook her leg and pull it over your shoulder, it cuts off her next retort, and suddenly the only sounds in the room are those of pleasure.

Faster, harder. Heejin has shown off enough, flaunting the kind of sexual prowess you never expected from the quiet girl who always sat at the front of the class.

Then again, it's always the quiet ones...

Yuna's still here. Watching. Enthralled, but also furious. Her hands clutch her skirt, balling the fabric in her fists. She wants to march over to the two of you and kick Heejin aside. She wants to scream her frustrations and push the interloper out of the way. And she wants you to fuck her the same way you did Heejin, so you can compare and find her superior.

Her fists clench to leave bloody crescents in her palm, teeth grit hard and grind. It's not jealousy, Yuna would deny it. She's never been jealous of anything Heejin does or has, because Yuna's always had what she needs and then some. Except tonight.

"Fuck you both!" She declares, indignant, but the pair of you pay her no heed.

And that only infuriates Yuna more.

"I'll report the two of you. This is fucked up!"

Even as you pound her, Heejin has just enough presence to dismiss her with a laugh inter-laden into her moans. "Report yourself for sucking him off, too."

There's nothing else she can say, no barbed insults or derisive statements she can fling at either of you. So she grabs her shirt off the floor and leaves in a huff. The sound of the slamming door rings through the room, like the period to a sentence.

It just allows you and Heejin to go even harder.

Soon the world closes in around you. Only the thumping desk remains, only the frantic rhythm of your bodies pounding against each other, only her tiny moans, muffled into the crease of her elbow, only her clenching pussy as she convulses, trembling. Her tight, warm walls flutter as they enclose your cock, milking every inch, rippling in rhythmic spasms.

You need a moment. To take a breath, gather your thoughts. You're nearly spent, so you change your tact.

You pull her from the desk and turn her to its edge. "I like the way you think," she coos, then sprawls herself against it. Her chest pressed against the wood. Her cute little ass presented in all its glory, begging for attention. It fits into your palms like perfection. Each soft cheek moulds itself to you, filling up your grip perfectly. She squirms a bit, enticingly, pushing her hips backwards against you as if she's afraid you might lose interest.

You enter her once more.

A squeak leaves her lips. It's so adorable. Cute. But also hot as fuck.

Tight body, tight cunt. A tiny little thing, yet somehow able to withstand your assault. Her slender frame jolts with the impact of each thrust.

You slap against her flesh, sending ripples through her skin. Her cute butt. The arch of her back. You grab her there, at the waist—that slutty little waist—and hold onto her tightly while you sink inside. Over and over. Relentless.

She twists, her nails dragging across the desk's surface, scrambling for purchase. Her eyes roll back and her legs buckle, a hoarse wail breaking from her throat. She looks like she's possessed, her features drawn into an ecstatic rictus. She cries out as the sensations overwhelm her. You can feel it happening. Since her unravelling.

"Yes, fuck," Heejin sputters. "Give me what I want."

And you don't know exactly what she means by that. Is it your cock or is it the title, but who are you to complain?

Then it comes, rushing at you like a tidal wave. You fall down on top of her, her delicate body straining underneath you. "Cum," she whimpers.

So you pin her there, under you, and empty yourself inside her. Your whole body sings, shaking uncontrollably as you unload.

"How was it?" Heejin giggles. "To fuck the future valedictorian?" Asked with the confidence that it was a foregone conclusion.

Decision day comes. It's been two days since you finished inside Heejin as a form of agreement, and two days since you last spoke to Yuna. It's all hostile stares and annoyed mutterings.

You feel bad. The fact that this whole thing devolved into some sordid exchange of sexual favours really gnaws at you. It doesn't sit well. You knew Yuna liked you, she never kept it a secret. In fact, it's cute that she was trying so hard to impress you. It all felt a little earnest, compared to Heejin's ruthless manner.

You've woken this morning with a conclusion that is quite frankly the easy way out. Yuna hasn't tried to argue it, she just keeps her scowl and glares from afar, like you're the antichrist. Meanwhile, Heejin gives a satisfied smile whenever you look her way.

At least this madness will end. You'll see your father today, give him the decision, and forget all of this, or try your hardest to.

First, you need to get out of bed, though, throw off these duvet covers and stand. Stretching gives some relief to the back, and it perks you up. A shower, breakfast, and some coffee—the standard routine. After that, it's clean clothes and a walk to the office.

That's how it should be, anyway.

You're still in only your underwear when there's a knock on your door.

"Give me a minute! Hang on," you call.

The doorknob rattles but doesn't open. Then there's the hammering of a palm against the wood. Impatient. Persistent. Another rattle of the doorknob.

You concede. Wearing nothing more than your underwear, you poke your head around the door and peek out of the opening.

There, arms folded, impatient foot tapping the floor, is Yuna. "I need to talk to you," she says, brow furrowed and serious.

"What's—"

Yuna tries to push the door but your body is blocking it.

"Yuna, I need a minute to—"

"—we need to talk." Her tone is urgent and agitated. She's not angry, exactly.

You relent. This sounds important. Maybe you've misjudged things. "Okay, okay, come in."

"Finally," she sighs, stepping past you and heading straight for the chair by the desk.

As you shut the door, she turns her gaze onto you. The intensity of her eyes, the depth, like swirling galaxies within a cloudless night sky.

"Yuna... I didn't think you wanted to see me, not after everything that happened."

"Yeah, I've thought a lot about that actually," she tells you. Her eyes don't leave you, roaming across your body. "We both wanted the same thing, but Heejin got there first. Today's the day, isn't it? Decision day. Your dad's going to want an answer." She's wearing her uniform again, freshly pressed, the white blouse starched and stiff, the skirt just skimming her knees.

"I was going to head over soon, actually."

"So it's not too late?"

"Too late for?"

"One final twist." Yuna reaches up to loosen the tie of her blouse. One by one, she starts working her way through the buttons, popping each one through the buttonholes. "How about we revisit the competition?"

"You can't be serious?" You ask, but you watch as she slips the shirt off her arms. Then she's reaching to undo the catch of her bra—soft blue lace cupping her full breasts. She peels the cups down and flicks the bra aside, revealing her perfect chest.

"I'm deadly serious." Yuna stands.

The arousal rises in you quickly, and you can feel yourself getting hard. There's no hiding it, and Yuna notices immediately, a smirk breaking across her pretty face. Yuna takes the opportunity, steps closer, and plants a palm against your abdomen. She trails her fingers down to trace the outline of your cock against your boxers, the thin material not hiding anything. A small laugh.

"There we go, now you're paying attention." She wraps her fingers around you through the material. It's electrifying, having her touch you like this. Her hands are small and delicate, but her grip is firm. She moves her palm up and down, stroking you gently and enticing you.

Your breath catches in your throat, the tension growing as she plays with your dick. "Yuna..." you manage, your heart pounding, your palms clammy.

"Do you like that?" she teases, her thumb brushing across the tip of your head through the cloth.

All you can do is nod, your mind hazy with lust, your legs weak. She grins, a predatory twinkle in her eye. She moves forward, pushing you backwards onto the bed, your legs buckling under the surprise assault. You land flat on your back, and Yuna looks down at you.

"Can I be honest with you?" she asks as she pushes her fingers into the waistband of her skirt. She slips it down, revealing her matching blue panties.

"Yeah?" you reply, unable to keep your gaze off her body.

"I've always kinda had a thing for you," she admits, "and it's kind of annoying that it takes some stupid shit like this for me to say something. But I've also kinda hated that Heejin got a hold of you, like, in a weird way, she won because she was braver than me."

"Braver? What does that have to do with—"

"—she wasn't scared to let you fuck her," Yuna interrupts. She steps forward until she's standing above you. "Guess what?" Her question is rhetorical. She hooks her fingers into her underwear and slips them down her smooth thighs. "It's my turn."

She's beautiful. Flawless skin, toned muscles, and perfect curves. Every detail of her is meticulously crafted, like a sculpture by an old master. It's hard not to stare. Your eyes are fixed on hers as she crawls onto the bed. The mattress dips, and you shuffle up the sheets, unsure where to put yourself as she straddles you.

"Look all you want." Yuna lowers herself down. She places her palms against your chest, pinning you, and lowers down further. You feel a warm heat press itself against your groin. The wetness soaking into the fabric. She begins to slowly grind herself against you, rubbing herself against your erection. "Have I ever told you about my dance classes?" she asks with a smirk, her hips swaying back and forth. She grinds herself against you in a rhythmic, slow, pattern, and the sensation is so intense and pleasurable that you groan. "I'm really good with my hips. Really good."

Yuna keeps going, her body swaying and grinding, and your underwear grows wetter. It's torturously good, the friction from her pussy, the wet heat against your length. It's impressive to watch the way her body rolls, the precision, the control.

Eventually, she slows, smiling slyly. Her fingers trace their way down your abdomen, down your stomach, and hook into the waistband of your boxers. With a slight tug, she pulls them down, freeing your hardness from its confines. She leans forward again, positioning herself above you, ready to descend.

This feels a little unreal. You never expected it to happen, nor did you ever expect her to be this assertive. "Yuna..."

"Relax," she says, lowering herself. She holds you in place. "Honestly, even if you still choose Heejin later, I won't care. I just needed to do this."

Then she lets gravity drop her and there's a sudden pressure around your length, her warmth encasing you, her muscles wrapping around you. Her head tips back slightly and her expression softens as she exhales. The feeling is incredible, and your groans echo hers. The tightness around your cock, the warmth and moistness, and the sight of her perfect naked form on top of you.

Yuna wastes no time, she lifts herself, rolling her hips up, and then slides back down. Her breathing becomes louder, more ragged. You reach out to grab her, your hands instinctively moving to her sides to pull her down into you. She welcomes the grip, biting her lower lip as you pull her into you, her breath coming in quick bursts.

"Does that feel good?" she asks, her voice husky, her body rocking against you.

"It feels amazing," you reply, your hands roaming up to squeeze her breasts.

A soft laugh escapes her as she shifts her weight back and forth, riding you, controlling the rhythm and pace. She's practised and precise like every movement is part of a well-rehearsed routine. "Better than Heejin?" she asks.

"You're incredible," you gasp, grabbing her tighter. The words seem to spur her on further, and she picks up speed. Each movement sends a ripple of pleasure through your body. She's in complete control, dictating the pace, deciding how deep, how hard, and how fast. You've given yourself completely over to her, allowing her to use you as she wants, to ride you however she pleases.

"That's good," she hums, picking up her pace. "I'll do my best for you."

She shifts again, leaning back slightly, changing the angle. She bounces, her breasts swaying with every rise and fall. She has found the perfect spot. "Oh fuck yes!" you hiss, your hands grasping at her thighs and body arching upwards.

"Mmmm," she moans, picking up the tempo. She's riding you now, fast and hard, sweat forming on her brow. "Fuck!" Her curse is rare, strange coming from her mouth, but it's welcome, especially as it's followed by her panting harder.

The room is filled with the sounds of slapping skin and heavy breaths. The air is thick with the scent of sex. You're both sweating, grunting, panting.

As great of a spectacle, as breathtaking a sight, she is, it's a constant struggle. You get so close to bursting into her, only for her to feel it coming, take a moment of pause, slow to a grind and adjust her position again, denying you of an ending. She's teasing you, playing you, keeping you on edge.

You want nothing more than to throw her down, kneel behind her and rail her until you cum deep into her, to hold her tight while you fill her up. Yet, despite how easily you could, how simple it would be to move her and shove her to the bed and do whatever you wanted, you can't do it. Something about watching her is mesmerising, and you can't take your eyes away. You watch her move, how her muscles flex with each rock and roll, how her breasts jiggle and shake with each bounce, how her head tilts back, her eyelids flutter and how her teeth bite on her bottom lip. The sight is far too powerful, far too thrilling, to break away from.

It must be plastered all over your face, the need, because she says, "You can't cum inside, it's not safe, but," and she gives that wicked smile once again, "I have an idea." She drags herself off of you, and then she turns around and bends over, facing away from you, exposing herself, her pussy soaked and glistening. You get the picture.

Then she hits her own ass. An open-palmed slap right across it, making the supple flesh ripple, a red mark stinging bright on her otherwise pale complexion. "Like what you see?" Yuna coos.

"Absolutely," you reply.

She sways her hips side-to-side, a small enticement. "Good." She lowers her hips, settling her cheeks on either side of your cock. Her hand pulls you between them, and as she shakes her ass side to side, Yuna lets out a satisfied chuckle. Then she begins to move, back and forth, sliding you between her cheeks. She grips and squeezes you tightly, using her own ass as a toy.

There's something raw and dirty about it. The way she rubs you with her cheeks, squeezing and pressing you into the cleft between them. Her skin is smooth and silky, her ass perfectly round and perky. It's intoxicating—addictive. Every time she squeezes, you feel that build-up inside you grow hotter. A boiling sensation, searing through your veins. It feels so good, but it's still not enough. You want more.

Yuna knows this isn't enough, and there's only one thing you would wish for her to do next. She pushes her hand between her legs, taking hold of your shaft firmly. Then, slowly, deliberately, she spreads her buttocks with one hand while guiding you between them with the other. The anticipation builds until she finally presses your cockhead against her asshole.

It's tight. Very, very tight. There's some initial resistance as she tries to force herself down onto you, but she's patient. Slow. Inch by inch, she sinks downwards. Soon, the tip of your cock slips into her, causing her to groan in discomfort, biting down on her lip to keep quiet, but she refuses to stop.

You can only watch as she draws your cock into her ass, stretching and adjusting to fit. She gasps, her eyes wide, her expression contorted. She takes a moment to collect herself, before sinking even further, taking more of you into her ass. You marvel at how her tight hole stretches to accommodate you. You've never felt anything like this before; the tightness is unlike any other sensation.

As Yuna continues to sink down, she begins to shudder with pain and discomfort. She's struggling. You place your hand on her ass, rubbing and caressing it, encouraging her. Yuna lets out a long breath, her head hanging down, sweat dripping from her brow. You're barely halfway in but she's rocking her hips and groaning.

"I want you to cum inside," she whispers, her voice hoarse, almost desperate, looking over her shoulder. Her back is arched where her waist narrows, the definition in her muscles more pronounced from the effort.

"You sure?" you ask, gripping her hips tightly.

She nods frantically, her hair falling into her face. Her hands grip the bedsheets tightly. She pushes herself down, finding a rhythm, pushing and pulling. You help, using your grip to guide her, but you're careful not to hurt her. She starts to pick up speed, working herself up and down, taking more and more of you into her with each pass.

It's intense, watching her work, seeing her concentrate so hard. Eventually she relaxes, her body less tense. She's adjusted to the sensation now, getting used to having you buried in her, and she seems to enjoy it. You find yourself lost in the beauty of her body, her slim figure, her narrow waist, her taut ass and toned thighs, the way she moves with such purpose and grace. Even under stress, her poise shines through.

She begins to move faster, rocking her hips, pulling you deeper into her ass. Her movements become smoother and more fluid. Each time she sinks down onto you, she groans loudly. She's loving it, her eyes closed, her mouth open in strained pleasure. You hear her muttering things under her breath, like "Yes" and "fuck." Each time she says it, you can't help but smile. She's really enjoying herself. You love the sound of it.

Her walls cling to you tightly, her tight hole squeezing you firmly. Every time she rocks her hips, it sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, building, pulsing, and growing, until finally, your muscles clench. She grunts in exertion, her arms straining, her body trembling, and you grip her ass hard enough to mark her fair skin with fingerprints.

You hold her in place and you cum. Your dick spasms within her, filling her with hot liquid. You groan loudly as your hips buck wildly beneath her, spilling deep inside. The pleasure surges through every fibre of your being. When you're finally spent, you collapse back onto the bed. You're completely drained. Exhausted. You lie there, staring at the ceiling, your chest heaving, trying desperately to catch your breath.

Yuna is quick to join you, "That was so hot," she pants.

She doesn't say much else, catching her breath. While you're lost in the stars you're seeing, she rolls onto her side and brushes a stray hair from your face. It's affectionate and cute. Soft. Her dark eyes search yours and a playful smile appears on her lips. She reaches out to touch your cheek, tracing its curves before moving to stroke your chin.

"I meant it. I don't care if you still choose Heejin," she murmurs, the satisfaction evident in her voice. Her touch is light, tickling and tingling on your skin, like she's admiring a fine piece of art.

The question inevitably comes, with casual ease, the coffee mug halfway to your lips(where it pauses while you ponder). You take a sip, then place the cup down. A look into his eyes, and you give a simple answer.

"Good choice," he nods, offering no sincerity. Just a solemn acknowledgement. "Will be a nice ceremony. You should wear something smart." There's that nod again, dismissive. He puts his reading glasses on and peers back at his documents. More scribbles. As if the whole thing was nothing.

#Yuna smut #Heejin smut #kpop smut #male reader #kpop fanfic #m reader #Itzy smut #artms smut #Heejin x reader #smut #kpop fanfiction #yuna x reader #loona smut

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florencemtrash · 2 months ago

Text

Club Rats and Cigarettes: Part I

Azriel x Modern Reader

Summary: When Azriel stumbles into a new world with his brothers, the last thing he expects to find is a mate. But she has a hell of a way of making a first impression, and Azriel can't help but fall in love with someone who feels familiar in a strange world.

Warnings: Violence, mentions of drug use

Masterlist of Masterlists

Author's note: I had a thought. I wrote it. Here ya go!

Y/n leaned back against the motley wall covered in indie movie and band posters 10-layers deep. Humidity caused the paper to lift away from the brick, curling like steam off coffee before being frozen in place by the next slather of paste. Y/n felt the sharp, glue-soaked edges poke through the mesh of her shirt.

Looking left and right she saw a few stragglers heading towards the club — three girls huddled in fake-fur coats with freshly-shaved legs trembling in the October air, and a group of college boys dressed in the same jeans, sneakers, and pale collared shirts. They flickered in and out of the darkness as the streetlights hummed with the effort of keeping their failing bulbs alight. A handful of skeletal cars sat beside busted parking meters or half-hidden in the employee parking lots of the closed down street. During the day when the restaurants were open, inoffensive jazz battled it out with the reggaeton blaring from the trendy taco joint at the end of the block, and Kpop dancers pressed themselves against the screens posted by the corn dog restaurant’s windows, neon lights announcing that they were “OPEN!” But right now the neon was just another sad shade of grey. Even the sky’s colors were muted by packed clouds threatening rain.

Music shook the pavement, but it came up from the sub-basement club deep and muffled. Y/n felt its vibrations pass through the soles of her boots, up her stocking-clad legs, and into her chest where her heart rumbled like a car without a muffler.

A flash of flame revealed her glitter-coated cheeks and cobalt-blue eyeshadow. The color slipped and slid across her skin still tacky from club sweat until it was a pale wash of blue extending up to her temples and down to her cheekbones. A cloud of smoke covered her soon after as she lit her cigarette between nail-bitten fingers. A fresh coat of black polish glittered like stones, already chipping towards the tips. Menthol crisp bled into her lungs along with a breath of cold air perfumed with car exhaust and day old restaurant grease. She licked her lips and found that she did not mind the taste of lip gloss, mint, and char.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a boy with salt-white hair and shy, bent shoulders slink over to her trying to make himself as small as possible. “Can I bum a cigarette?” He asked, shockingly polite despite the black band t-shirt that read “Anarchy now!” and the careful spikes gelled into his hair and tipped green and black.

Y/n wordlessly held out her pack and he plucked one out before hesitantly reaching for a second. She held out her lighter next and soon there were two plumes of smoke wafting into the air as music faded in and out with each body that passed through the rusted paint doors. Drunk giggles followed voices hoarse with drink and screaming. Heels clicked down the street, some heavy as a bass drum and others high and piercing like castanets.

A quick flash of lightning splintered over the sky, followed seconds later by a dull crash like furniture toppling over.

“One mile,” The boy said, leaning over. He smelled like bleach, aftershave, and surprisingly, cherries. The overly sweet ones that came out of a jar and decorated the tops of ice cream sundaes.

“What?”

“You can count how far away lightning is from the thunder. Every five seconds between lightning and thunder is one mile.”

Another flash painted the sky purple followed shortly by crumbled eruptions of noise.

“That one was close by.”

Y/n took one last drag before putting out her cigarette on the wall. The paper smoldered and was scarred black, but never burned. “Guess that’s my cue to go back inside then.”

The boy nodded, smiling and looking her up and down a little too closely. Then his eyes sharpened, red-rimmed and squinting, as he glared into the street beyond her.

“Do you see that?”

Y/n twirled around on her heels, staring down the street to where it ended in shadow. It looked… darker than it should, although she couldn’t explain why. Like she stood before the throat of an animal. The darkness seemed to pulse and writhe, muscles clenching down on invisible meat. Then she felt stupid for having listened to him at all.

“Don’t fuck with me,” she growled, pushing the salt-haired boy aside and slipping back inside the club.

The music and heady scent of perfumes, cologne, and sweat punched her in the face, and she remembered why she’d chosen to stumble outside to begin with.

She moved in between bodies sparkling like disco balls, stealing body glitter as she went. She felt the tiny particles stick to her skin, tacky with sweat. Someone’s hand brushed against her wrist, but she swatted them off, pressing forward in search of her friends. She didn’t trust them to stay still, not in a place like this, nor did she trust them to check their phones, so she just kept searching the packed dance floor. Raised platforms crowded with plastic couches and spray painted tables hit her at eye level, but none of the platform heels and combat boots looked familiar. She thought a head of red corkscrews might have belonged to Cecelia, but it was only the changing lights reflecting off bleach blond hair.

She dipped into the corner where a line of scantily clad girls with lanky legs waited for the bathroom. Ducking beneath the overhead speakers helped dull the noise, and if she climbed up two rungs of the barrier surrounding the DJ’s booth like a fighting ring, she could make out more of the crowd. Four stationary spotlights lit up the corners of the club pulsing red, blue, pink, and purple. A man in leopard print briefs was climbing onto one of the poles there, shredding his policeman’s shirt down the center as a woman in a zebra-print coat eagerly shoved a handful of dollar bills into his underwear. A drag king had his hot pink fedora knocked off by a drunk college student stumbling towards the bathrooms with a hand over his mouth. All over there were faint pinpricks of light followed by subtle releases of vape pen air, adding hints of watermelon and strawberry to the air.

It was because she stood half-hanging off the DJ’s booth that she caught sight of the three men that entered one after another like the mob. Dressed in all black, they were better suited for a funeral than a club, save for one thing… their wings.

Y/n blinked in confusion. There had been flyers hung up around the library and grocery stores about some anime convention being held in the city, but this place was a little out of the way for hardcore cosplayers. The most severe looking of the three lifted his nose to the air, then stumbled back in shock. As the strobe lights passed over his awe-struck expression, Y/n caught the glint of knives sheathed across his chest and at his side.

Fuck. She looked up to the booth, but the DJ and the guys in ripped t-shirts bobbing their heads around him didn’t seem to notice.

“Hey!” She dropped back onto the floor and tapped the shoulder of a barrel-chested man with the word “security” printed over his shirt in all caps. “I think those three guys brought knives in here.” She pointed in their general direction with one chipped, black fingernail.

“The fuck?!” He gently pushed her aside, shouting something into his earpiece as he shoved his way into the crowd. People took a second to read the sign on his shirt before parting to make way for him. One guy with bright pink hair and studded lips even tried to kiss him on the cheek as he passed.

Suddenly, this corner of the club didn’t seem so safe anymore. There was a splash of pale light on the floor as a bottle girl in a black leather catsuit slipped out of the kitchens. She swayed her hips back and forth, a bottle of tequila swishing in its frost-rimmed bottle against her hip. She moved up the stairs to the platform where a private bachelor party was going on, heels clicking like beetle wings rubbing together. Y/n slipped into the shadows closer to the kitchens and waited for someone — anyone — to answer the text she’d typed out with shaky fingers.

Azriel had never heard music like this before. He didn’t even know such a sound could exist. Someone had weaponized the bass tones so it felt like a punch to the gut. A male’s deep voice, grainy and harsh, was indistinguishable from the crashing of cymbals and a strange, high clang that skittered over steady drums like a stone over water. Through layers of sound he could just make out the soft sighs of a female as she tried to tie the chaos together with her voice.

All around him were sweaty humans decorated in shiny, colorful clothes that sparkled as they spun and jerked about. He stood a head above most, although every so often a male or female in eight-inch heels would pass by at eye level, looking him up and down like he was a meal and they were starving.

“Hey there handsome.” Someone had found the courage to slink up to Cassian’s side — a male with pupils blown open wide enough to swallow his pale blue irises. There was alcohol on his breath and something else, something sweet and bitter at the same time. The human male smiled, teeth white and straight. Azriel had never seen a human with teeth so perfect. He was handsome — wiry and slim with a flush to his cheeks that accentuated the smattering of freckles across his tan skin. “Did you come here alone?” Rhysand and Azriel’s presence did not seem to deter him. “Did you want to leave here alone?”

Cassian sputtered in surprise. He’d never been propositioned by a male, let alone a human one.

“I’m-I’m a mated male.”

The male raised his brow, taking full stock of the skin-tight leathers Cassian wore. He took a deep drag of an oddly shaped pipe that lit up in the dark. “Ok. If that’s what you’re into.” A cloud of smoke spilled from his mouth — the source of the sweet and bitter smell on his lips. His eyes slid over to Rhysand, who only smirked and stuck a hand into his pocket. “And you? It doesn’t look like you’re into the leather stuff.” Then he seemed to reconsider what he’d said, looking between Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel like he’d figured out the final piece of the puzzle. He blinked in surprise, tipped back his head, and laughed. He was still laughing as he turned and walked away into the crowd.

“What the hell was that?” Cassian asked. Azriel shrugged, shaking his head.

“It’s a strange place we’ve landed in,” Rhysand remarked, although the comment was unnecessary. “I expect the strangeness touches everything here. Even the people.” He marveled at the scene before him. The only comparable place in Prythian was Rita’s, but even that paled in comparison to the sight before him.

Rita’s was a pleasure house with music and drinks to spare, but everything here was… more. The music was louder, the smells an assault to the senses, and the lights changed every second and made the dancers flicker in and out of existence. Even the people seemed to have more substance to them, more color.

Azriel loved it.

He loved the uneven floors that sucked at the bottoms of his shoes, the pulsing lights that made his eyes swim, and the sound blaring in his ears that drowned out all other thoughts. And something in the air smelled crisp and sweet to him, despite all the other competing scents that had Cassian and Rhysand wrinkling their nose in distaste.

He strained his neck to catch better hold of the scent. His shadows clung to his body like children, hiding in the folds of his leathers. This world was not made for them, and they worried that if they strayed too far they would be left behind.

Amren had warned them that this world was different, that its magic was different. But she hadn’t been here in thousands upon thousands of years. Who was to say what had changed in her absence and what had stayed the same?

Get in. Find what you need. Get out. Had been Nesta’s command before strumming The Harp. That’s how the three brothers had found themselves at the end of a narrow lane with boxes of metal and brick on either side. The club had been a logical next step — it was the only establishment that still whispered of life in the otherwise dead neighborhood.

One shadow dared to explore the club, slipping past a broad-shouldered man with a scowling face and sniffing at half-full glasses of liquor with bright umbrellas laying against their salt-coated rims. Then it had caught sight of something that had it scurrying back to its master.

Mate. The lone shadow hissed into Azriel’s ear. Mate.

Azriel’s fluttering bird heart dove into his stomach, carrying with it all reason and restraint. There was no possible way… no. No? Right?

Az? Rhysand steadied his brother as he stumbled back.

She’s here? Azriel breathed. If it weren’t for his powers, Rhysand would never have heard the soft sigh escape Azriel’s lips as he searched the crowd desperately. Azriel tipped his head back, breathing in the comforting scent that held new meaning. My mate. She’s here.

What?!

Azriel ignored Rhys and dove into the crowd, head swiveling this way and that as he tried to find a familiar face he’d never seen before.

Az! Wait! But his brother was gone, and the crowd closed over the empty space he’d left behind like a healing wound.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Rhysand cursed.

“Hey man! Where did you get your wings? They’re fucking awesome!” A plump male with cornflower blue hair and matching eyeliner piped up from behind Cassian’s back. Cassian whirled around in anger, feeling the ghost of a finger slide down his spine. No one touched his wings without his say. No one.

The male startled back in fear. Upon seeing Cassian at his full height, he cowered against the wall, clutching a crinkled red cup against his chest. Cassian blinked in surprise. The male was wearing a black and white dress, the starched apron and collar crisp and clean.

“Someone call the police. Now!” Someone hissed behind him.

“What seems to be the problem?” Rhysand spoke coolly. At the moment Cassian turned back to Rhysand, the maiden-male scuttled away and upstairs into the cold night. Rhysand examined his fingernails, an action that had the guard’s ruddy face turning white as he saw they were armed to the teeth.

The male’s arms hung loose and ready at his sides like two boulders, fists opening and closing slowly. “You guys need to leave. And before you say anything — I don’t give a shit if those weapons are fake or part of some Halloween costume, you can not bring them here.”

“What fool would carry fake weapons?” Cassian asked seriously.

The male’s face lost even more color. “Out. Now.”

“There’s no need for—” Rhysand’s brows shot towards his hairline, violet eyes flickering up like a cat’s. Cassian, I can’t control him.

His brother’s eyes widened. What do you mean?

His mind — I can’t get into it.

He’s only human!

Clearly.

The male moved forward then to grab at the knife hanging from Cassian’s side and on instinct, Cassian swung. His fist met the corner of the male’s jaw cleanly and he sank like a stone, crumbling to the floor.

A female with glowing white lips nearby let out a strangled shriek, twisting her ankle as she grabbed her friend and sprinted towards the glowing red exit sign. All around her people began taking notice of the guard’s dark shape on the black floor and the two males that hovered over him, knives sparkling in the ever changing lights.

I had hoped that the humans would not notice, Cassian explained. More alarmed cries erupted around them. He leaned down, carefully checking the male’s pulse. He was still alive, just knocked out cold.

The music dimmed and then went out completely leaving an empty hole in the air that blew against the back of Cassian’s neck. Overhead lights turned on shortly after, burning with a fluorescence that had everyone hissing in pain.

Things looked much better in the dark. In the dark no one noticed the sticky stains littering the floor, or the gum wrappers, and plastic straws, and crushed cups; the dusty strobe lights and haphazard paint jobs that left the walls bubbling with air pockets. They were also less likely to notice the three fae in their midst — 6-foot-everything and looking like they stepped out of the world’s most expensive LARPing tournament. It didn’t help that Cassian was kneeling over the man he just rendered unconscious.

Confusion led to confused panicking, and then plain panic as people began pushing towards the exits in droves.

I think they noticed. Rhysand looked over the crowd as they fluttered around him, but try as he might, he couldn’t enter anyone’s minds. Not even one. He didn’t like the oily vulnerability that followed, naked and unnerving.

Cassian slung the unconscious male over his shoulder before he could be trampled beneath pairs of dusty white sneakers and stripper heels. Then it would seem it’s time for us to leave.

Where are you? Azriel cursed at no god in particular. He didn’t know which of them existed in this realm, if any did at all.

This way. His shadows whispered, urging him towards the back corner of the club.

A battered door swung open and shut to the rhythms of females in skintight leather carrying chilled bottles in their hands. Thousands of signatures had been scrawled against the door in neon paint, and Azriel watched one of the females sign her name — Ava — in bright orange before kissing the door and slipping inside to grab another bottle.

Just to the right of the door stood another female in ripped stockings. Bright blue glitter painted her eyes and cheeks. She bounced back and forth on the balls of her feet, playing with a hole in her sleeve as she held a shiny black box up to her ear.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU ALREADY LEFT?! I’M THE DESIGNATED DRIVER!” She yelled into the box. Her eyes kept shifting over the club. Her lipstick, already blurred from time and dancing, smeared further as she bit her lip. A swipe of her sleeve on her cheek left a faint trail of plum-colored lipstick. She slammed her finger down on the box and for one moment, the glow it let off shot across her eyes. She looked close to tears.

Azriel froze, feeling a pressure in his chest tighten and then burst apart. He felt her fear — her anger at being abandoned by her so-called friends. It was more overwhelming than the music. If it weren’t for the thin crowd of strangers in front of him blocking his path, he might have dropped to his knees and crawled to her.

Mate. The bond sang in his chest. Mate.

Screams broke through the music, high and panicked, and the magic of the moment crashed all around him. The darkness broke, harsh white light colliding with them and rendering the glitters and colors the humans adorned pale and lifeless. But not his mate. She sparkled brighter in the resulting chaos, eyes narrowing in a dare as she caught Azriel staring. She was a prey animal ready to bolt. A worm preparing to turn and reveal its teeth.

Sharp cracks of plastic on linoleum rattled the ground as leather-clad women sprinted for the kitchen door brandishing empty bottles like weapons. Y/n raced after them.

The door flapped shut behind her before Azriel had the sense to move his feet and follow, calling out, “Wait! Please!”

He was doing this very poorly. He knew better than to chase a female like this. Sickness twisted in his stomach as he slammed into metal doors and ran through hallways crowded with glass bottles, aluminum cans, and wrinkly lemons stacked precariously in wooden crates.

To your right. A shadow whispered in his ear.

Azriel slid to a stop in front of a heavy metal door, its edges frosted over with cold.

It locks from the outside.

Azriel ripped the door off its hinges and was blasted in the face by a wave of cold. Frigid air curled out of the edges of the room and slithered over the floor like smoke. A young female in a pink tutu yelped in surprise and dove for the corner of the room, hiding behind racks of beer bottles. It wasn’t his mate.

She was just a frightened female who’d hidden in the fridge, not knowing she was trapping herself in the process.

“Here.” Azriel said, quickly ripping a coat off the wall hook and tossing it towards her. She reached for it with shaking hands and lips, mumbling out a confused “Thank you?” as Azriel turned and hurried away. The door was no more. She could walk out of the freezer whenever she pleased now.

Azriel chased after his mate’s scent, stumbling through grey, blank hallways that belonged to the insurance company next door. He strained his ears to hear the tell-tale pounding of her boots, but came up empty. A dull red light told Azriel to “EXIT” as he pushed against a door groaning from rust and disuse.

He was outside once again, breathing in car exhaust and restaurant refuse.

And something sweet.

He heard the rush of air a second too late.

A bottle slammed into the side of his face, cracking and cutting his skin. Tequila washed over the wounds. It burned like a bitch.

Azriel didn’t let out a groan of pain, but he did stumble, landing on his right knee with a twinge of soreness.

The female — his mate — stared at him in horror as blood began to pool at his temple and drip down the line of his jaw. She held the shattered neck of the bottle in her hands. Her shoes were gone, toes curling against the pavement with cold.

Gods, she was beautiful.

Cassian was a blur of movement, knocking the bottle out of her hand and wrapping his arms around her arms. She screamed, squatting down before shooting back up and locking her knees. The top of her head slammed into Cassian’s nose. A brutal, bloody crack had Cassian stumbling back, gripping his nose.

“FUCK!” He swore.

She whipped around and sprayed a mist in his eyes that had him cursing like a madman and slapping the palms of his hands over his eyes.

“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!”

Rhysand stepped forward and cornered her against the wall. Violet eyes glittered with something bordering fury and amusement.

“No.” Azriel moved between Rhys and his mate before she could spray him too. “No one touches her.”

Rhys backed up immediately. This is her?

It’s her.

He could hear her heartbeat quicker than a rabbit as she flattened herself against the wall, holding her spray out in warning. Cassian moaned in annoyance, wiping the tears that kept leaking out of his eyes.

I do not like the humans in this world. Cassian complained, sniffling. Even his nose burned.

As if Nesta wouldn’t have done this given the chance. Rhysand said.

…I see your point. Cassian muttered.

Be careful around this one.

Because she’s a menace?

Rhysand smirked, flicking dust off the sleeve of his jacket. Because she’s Azriel’s mate.

Cassian straightened. His eyes darted back and forth between Rhysand, the blood dripping from Azriel’s head, and the human female.

Oh. Cassian thought, suddenly embarrassed. We have… not made a good first impression.

You think?! Azriel all but growled.

Her fight or flight response was running out — her energy draining. She could feel it in her leaden limbs and the faint slowing of her heartbeat as the three men kept looking around like they were seeing each other for the first time.

And they kept looking at her in mixtures of shock, concern, and — surprisingly — affection.

What sick fuckery is this? She dug her fingernails into the brick, searching for cracks like she might be able to pull out a piece and throw it at them, or find some hidden portal through the wall and back into the safety of the inside.

Were they going to kidnap her? Was she about to be shoved into a bag and tossed into some dingy trunk? But then why the wings? It was too dark to see them in their entirety, but they looked meticulous and expensive and very memorable — not ideal for kidnapping. Was this a LARPING thing? Were they Satanists? Was that how this worked?

The one in front turned. The one she’d attacked with a bargain bottle of tequila. The blood had stopped flowing and darkened against his tan skin. Hazel eyes, bright and piercing as a copper penny, looked out from a face made of elegant, serious lines. His was not a face that smiled often, beautiful as it was. The burly, rugged one looked like he was made for laughing. Smile lines gently graced his cheeks and temples. But maybe those were scars. He sported many of them, like pale whiskers over his skin. The third was the most put together of the three. Instead of strange, leather armor, he wore a suit of velvet over something stiff and protective that hugged his trim waist and broad shoulders, and his eyes were violet, not hazel.

The elegant, unsmiling one coughed awkwardly, shifting to hide his wings. Shockingly, they slid closed behind his back, the movement so smooth it looked real.

“I am…” His voice was a deep, gentle caress. “I am so very sorry. I did not mean to frighten you as I did. Please, forgive me.” He was… alarmingly polite, and his accent was… pleasant, although impossible to place — all soft rolls of the tongue complimented by the rich timbre of his voice. “ Please.” He spoke the last word quietly, urgently.

Y/n said nothing. Her arm was beginning to get sore from holding out the bottle of pepper spray. Although, it can’t have been that effective if the rugged one was already recovered. Maybe it had expired without her realizing?

“My name is Azriel,” the man spoke again quickly and gently. Even his name sounded odd. “And this is Cassian—” He pointed to the burly one,“And Rhysand.” The last of the men tilted his head in a mock bow.

“A pleasure.” The violet-eyed one said. Rhysand’s voice was weighed down with sultry charm. He purred the words more than spoke them.

“Pleasure,” Cassian copied, gruff but kind.

Y/n remained silent. Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed. The pretty one — Azriel — stepped forward and pulled out a sleek, small blade from the belt about his waist. Y/n was about to spray him in the face when he twisted the blade so that the handle faced her.

“This will do more damage than the little bottle you carry,” he promised. “I hope this will make you more trusting of me. I swear to do you no harm. I’ll even make a bargain, if it would make you trust me long enough to explain.” His wings twitched nervously and Y/n found she couldn’t draw her eyes away from them and how real they looked.

The three men kept looking at each other furtively. Conversations, complex and unknowable, hide in every twitch of their eyes.

“Speak out loud,” Azriel snarled at them finally. “You’re frightening her.”

Rhysand smiled apologetically at the female. “We need to leave. Now. You can hear the humans coming as well as I can.”

Y/n bristled at that, and a detached feeling of horror came over her. “Are you not… are you not human?”

Cassian gawked at her, speaking his wings out far and wide. “Do the humans of this world have wings?”

She sputtered to answer, fear giving way to curiosity. Azriel took advantage of that, moving close enough that he slid the blade into her hand. It was a cool, welcome weight against her hot, sweaty skin. Up close she saw he had freckles dotting the high corners of his cheeks and that his hair came alive with dark tendrils of smoke that wafted off his skin like steam. They wrapped around her and she heard their strange whispers in her ears like white noise.

“We’re not human. We’re not even from this world.” The sirens were only a block away now and Azriel swore beneath his breath. More of those dark tendrils shot out like shadows and dulled the noises of incoming fire trucks, cop cars, and EMTs. “I swear to you that I will explain more, but we must go. Please.” He took hold of her wrist, angling the blade he’d given her right beneath his last rib.

It was a dramatic declaration — if she wanted to kill him and run away, he would let her.

Y/n swallowed thickly, her mind thick with fog and the dying embers of adrenaline. “I—I parked a few blocks down that way. I can take us somewhere else.”

Azriel breathed a sigh of relief and she pulled away from him, taking with her any shred of comfort he’d felt since coming to this world.

Somehow they managed to walk the quarter of a mile to her car without being stopped once by another living soul. She suspected it had to do with the shadows that now poured off of Azriel’s skin and trailed after her. She could feel them licking at her heels like curious dogs… or blood thirsty wolves.

She gripped the knife tightly in her hand, stretching her fingers to wrap around the steering wheel as she drove through familiar roads on autopilot. Azriel watched her curiously as she stopped at a red light and clicked her blinker on.

None of the men looked comfortable squished into her tiny sedan, wings tucked in so tight they cramped. Cassian’s boot was stretched out on the center console, almost reaching the gear shift. Rhysand was hunched over in the back seat, pressing his forehead against the cool metal of the headrest in front of him to keep from getting sick.

“What is this cursed thing?” He grumbled, then promptly shut up when Y/n took them down a local road with craters that had them jolting and jerking for a mile. “This metal box… I do not like it.”

Azriel and Cassian ignored their brother. Az was too busy paying attention to his mate and politely explaining the complexity of their situation, and Cassian was too busy looking out the window at the houses that passed by. He could hear the unfamiliar hum of electricity like a dragonfly's wings.

By the time she pulled the sedan down a beaten road to a quiet, homely one-bedroom house, her mind was swimming with words and phrases she could barely string together — Koschei, fae, Illyrians, seers. It was worse than when she’d spent two all-nighters cramming for an exam in college fueled by nothing but Red Bull and desperation.

Before the keys were even out of the ignition, Rhysand was spilling out of the car and breathing in gasps of clean, woodsy air. Gravel crunched under his feet. Once this road had been paved, but time and weather had broken up the asphalt until only chunky black rocks remained. Green grass, not yet killed off by Autumn frost, grew in uneven tufts up to Y/n’s squat, brown-sided house, skirting around the makeshift garden in the backyard before disappearing into the woods beyond. Neighboring homes inched as close as they could to the main road, half-submerged in golden brown trees that trembled in the wind.

The porch steps creaked, flexing in the center like backs ready to break, but they’d recently been cleaned and painted over with a fresh coat of white. The front door had been given similar treatment, although it was painted green. A small Autumn wreath hung from a nail.

Y/n fumbled with the keys, fingers shaking and numb from the cold.

“Here,” Azriel murmured, gently taking them from her. His shadows could have unlocked the front door in less than a second, but he was in no mood to test his mate’s patience and understanding. The fact that she’d driven them to her home in the dead of night was testament to the uneasy trust she’d placed in them.

A disgruntled meow greeted them as they filed into the short and narrow entryway. Cassian bumped into the entry dresser with his wings and nearly jumped out of his skin when the dark monstrosity that sat by a ceramic dish full of rings hissed.

It was the fattest cat Cassian had ever seen.

Acidic yellow-green eyes narrowed at him, as if sensing his judgment, and the cat’s whiskers twitched along with its pink button nose.

“Jefferson, be nice.” Y/n reprimanded the cat, scooping up its rotund body into her arms. The cat swatted her shoulder once, then consented to being held. He did not like strangers in his house, even if they were Y/n’s guests. “This is Jefferson.” She looked behind her back to the rest of the house. “And this is my home.”

She busied herself preparing for her unexpected guests. She scoured the bathroom closet for spare toothbrushes, towels, and lotions, and pulled out the thickest blankets she could find. One person could sleep on the pull out couch, the other two would have to fight for the best spot on the floor.

Azriel watched her as she moved. It was not a large house — it was barely even a cottage — and it took his shadows a short time to familiarize themselves with your home.

A lumpy couch, wicker armchair, and coffee table made up the living room, tied together by a retro rug that may have once been white, but was now a respectable beige. Four mismatched chairs huddled around a scratched wooden table near the kitchen, one of which carried a stuffy cushion that held the imprint of Jefferson’s soft body.

The cat watched them from the kitchen counter with its piercing eyes, and did not seem at all concerned when a stray shadow wound around its tail.

Pathetic. All of them! Were the cat’s thoughts. Master will not like this.

His eyes did soften when Y/n returned from her bedroom, arms heavy with blankets and sheets and pillows. Azriel quickly relieved her of her burden, promising that they’d spent nights in worse conditions than a heated house with bedding and clean floors.

She seemed charmed by that and almost smiled. Almost.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry, and the bathroom’s by the front door. I’ve already put some toothbrushes and towels in there if you need them.”

“Thank you,” Azriel said softly, tilting his head in a faint bow. His brothers followed suit before busying themselves laying out blankets and pillows like they’d done this a thousand times before — which they had.

Y/n nodded curtly and swept a judgmental Jefferson into her arms before disappearing into her room. Azriel heard the lock click into place and the rummaging of drawers as she pulled out an extra can of pepper spray, a pair of scissors, and the three knives she’d taken from the kitchen. She bolted her windows and drew the curtains closed and even stuffed a towel into the space beneath her doors just in case.

She was meticulous and careful despite her generosity, and Azriel found himself smitten at her resourcefulness.

Stop thinking about her and go the fuck to sleep, Az. Cassian grumbled. He could feel the longing dripping off of Azriel’s shoulders. She’ll feel more comfortable if she knows we’re asleep.

How much would you like to bet she kills us in the night? Rhysand asked, and then seemed amused by the prospect of it.

I’d worry more about the cat. Cassian chuckled. Then he turned over onto his stomach and was out like a light. Centuries spent in war camp barracks and makeshift battlefield tents had taught him to steal sleep wherever and whenever he could.

Rhysand was quick to follow suit, although centuries as a High Lord had pampered him just a little.

Azriel stayed awake, waiting to hear your heartbeat and breathing slow to a comfortable pace. But it never happened. Not even as the sunlight trickled in and touched the light-bleached floors.

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #acotar fanfiction #acotar #have I ever gone clubbing like this?#no #but can I imagine it?#Yes!

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always-a-king-or-queen · 3 months ago

Text

The ache will go away, eventually.

That was what the Professor told them, the day they got back. When they tumbled from the wardrobe in a heap of tangled limbs, and found that the world had been torn from under their feet with all the kindness of a serpent.

They picked themselves off of the floorboards with smiles plastered on child faces, and sat with the Professor in his study drinking cup after cup of tea.

But the smiles were fake. The tea was like ash on their tongues. And when they went to bed that night, none of them could sleep in beds that were too foreign, in bodies that had not been their own for years. Instead they grouped into one room and sat on the floor and whispered, late into the night.

When morning came, Mrs. Macready discovered the four of them asleep in Peter and Edmund’s bedroom, tangled in a heap of pillows and blankets with their arms looped across one another. They woke a few moments after her entry and seemed confused, lost even, staring around the room with pale faces, eyes raking over each framed painting on the wall and across every bit of furniture as if it was foreign to them. “Come to breakfast,” Mrs. Macready said as she turned to go, but inside she wondered.

For the children’s faces had held the same sadness that she saw sometimes in the Professor’s. A yearning, a shock, a numbness, as if their very hearts had been ripped from their chests.

At breakfast Lucy sat huddled between her brothers, wrapped in a shawl that was much too big for her as she warmed her hands around a mug of hot chocolate. Edmund fidgeted in his seat and kept reaching up to his hair as if to feel for something that was no longer there. Susan pushed her food idly around on her plate with her fork and hummed a strange melody under her breath. And Peter folded his hands beneath his chin and stared at the wall with eyes that seemed much too old for his face.

It chilled Mrs. Macready to see their silence, their strangeness, when only yesterday they had been running all over the house, pounding through the halls, shouting and laughing in the bedrooms. It was as if something, something terrible and mysterious and lengthy, had occurred yesterday, but surely that could not be.

She remarked upon it to the Professor, but he only smiled sadly at her and shook his head. “They’ll be all right,” he said, but she wasn’t so sure.

They seemed so lost.

Lucy disappeared into one of the rooms later that day, a room that Mrs. Macready knew was bare save for an old wardrobe of the professor’s. She couldn’t imagine what the child would want to go in there for, but children were strange and perhaps she was just playing some game. When Lucy came out again a few minutes later, sobbing and stumbling back down the hall with her hair askew, Mrs. Macready tried to console her, but Lucy found no comfort in her arms. “It wasn’t there,” she kept saying, inconsolable, and wouldn’t stop crying until her siblings came and gathered her in their arms and said in soothing voices, “Perhaps we’ll go back someday, Lu.”

Go back where, Mrs. Macready wondered? She stepped into the room Lucy had been in later on in the evening and looked around, but there was nothing but dust and an empty space where coats used to hang in the wardrobe. The children must have taken them recently and forgotten to return them, not that it really mattered. They were so old and musty and the Professor had probably forgotten them long ago. But what could have made the child cry so? Try as she might, Mrs. Macready could find no answer, and she left the room dissatisfied and covered in dust.

Lucy and Edmund and Peter and Susan took tea in the Professor’s room again that night, and the next, and the next, and the next. They slept in Peter and Edmund’s room, then Susan and Lucy’s, then Peter and Edmund’s again and so on, swapping every night till Mrs. Macready wondered how they could possibly get any sleep. The floor couldn’t be comfortable, but it was where she found them, morning after morning.

Each morning they looked sadder than before, and breakfast was silent. Each afternoon Lucy went into the room with the wardrobe, carrying a little lion figurine Edmund had carved her, and came out crying a little while later. And then one day she didn’t, and went wandering in the woods and fields around the Professor’s house instead. She came back with grassy fingers and a scratch on one cheek and a crown of flowers on her head, but she seemed content. Happy, even. Mrs. Macready heard her singing to herself in a language she’d never heard before as Lucy skipped past her in the hall, leaving flower petals on the floor in her wake. Mrs. Macready couldn’t bring herself to tell the child to pick them up, and instead just left them where they were.

More days and nights went by. One day it was Peter who went into the room with the wardrobe, bringing with him an old cloak of the Professor’s, and he was gone for quite a while. Thirty or forty minutes, Mrs. Macready would guess. When he came out, his shoulders were straighter and his chin lifted higher, but tears were dried upon his cheeks and his eyes were frightening. Noble and fierce, like the eyes of a king. The cloak still hung about his shoulders and made him seem almost like an adult.

Peter never went into the wardrobe room again, but Susan did, a few weeks later. She took a dried flower crown inside with her and sat in there at least an hour, and when she came out her hair was so elaborately braided that Mrs. Macready wondered where on earth she had learned it. The flower crown was perched atop her head as she went back down the hall, and she walked so gracefully that she seemed to be floating on the air itself. In spite of her red eyes, she smiled, and seemed content to wander the mansion afterwards, reading or sketching or making delicate jewelry out of little pebbles and dried flowers Lucy brought her from the woods.

More weeks went by. The children still took tea in the Professor’s study on occasion, but not as often as before. Lucy now went on her daily walks outdoors, and sometimes Peter or Susan, or both of them at once, accompanied her. Edmund stayed upstairs for the most part, reading or writing, keeping quiet and looking paler and sadder by the day.

Finally he, too, went into the wardrobe room.

He stayed for hours, hours upon hours. He took nothing in save for a wooden sword he had carved from a stick Lucy brought him from outside, and he didn’t come out again. The shadows lengthened across the hall and the sun sank lower in the sky and finally Mrs. Macready made herself speak quietly to Peter as the boy came out of the Professor’s study. “Your brother has been gone for hours,” she told him crisply, but she was privately alarmed, because Peter’s face shifted into panic and he disappeared upstairs without a word.

Mrs. Macready followed him silently after around thirty minutes and pressed an ear to the door of the wardrobe room. Voices drifted from beyond. Edmund’s and Peter’s, yes, but she could also hear the soft tones of Lucy and Susan.

“Why did he send us back?” Edmund was saying. It sounded as if he had been crying.

Mrs. Macready couldn’t catch the answer, but when the siblings trickled out of the room an hour later, Edmund’s wooden sword was missing, and the flower crown Susan had been wearing lately was gone, and Peter no longer had his old cloak, and Lucy wasn’t carrying her lion figurine, and the four of them had clasped hands and sad, but smiling, faces.

Mrs. Macready slipped into the room once they were gone and opened the wardrobe, and there at the bottom were the sword and the crown and the cloak and the lion. An offering of sorts, almost, or perhaps just items left there for future use, for whenever they next went into the wardrobe room.

But they never did, and one day they were gone for good, off home, and the mansion was silent again. And it had been a long time since that morning that Mrs. Macready had found them all piled together in one bedroom, but ever since then they hadn’t quite been children, and she wanted to know why.

She climbed the steps again to the floor of the house where the old wardrobe was, and then went into the room and crossed the floor to the opposite wall.

When she pulled the wardrobe door open, the four items the Pevensie children had left inside of it were missing.

And just for a moment, it seemed to her that a cool gust of air brushed her face, coming from the darkness beyond where the missing coats used to hang.

#oh also I want to clarify just in case - the 'offerings' left by the pevensies aren't meant to be anything weird #they're just little mementos that were special to them that they left there in case the wardrobe ever opened again #so whoever was on the other side could find them and maybe it would be somebody they'd known and loved during their time in narnia #i do have someone in mind who found the items but I'll leave whoever it is up to you :)#i just thought it would be nice for them to have a way of saying goodbye to the narnia they knew/creatures they loved during the golden age #sort of a way to let go of it and also leave something behind as a memory #narnia #tcon #the chronicles of narnia #lucy pevensie #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #edmund pevensie #mrs macready #digory kirke #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #cs lewis #ramblings from the void

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cosmic-waves7 · 1 year ago

Note

could u write karma with a s/o that doesn’t get into trouble? Kinda like an opposite like they’re still outgoing but the type to never skip and only wanting straight A’s and are kinda sensitive in contrast to him? (🫶🫶ur writing is so cute idk if you still write for karmaa aaa!!😭)

Note: I will NEVER stop writing for karma 😤😤😤

Honestly?

He doesn't even really notice you at first.

Another student in class-E, just like any other.

Obviously that is until you managed to score higher than him in maths during exam season.

It started off as a miniature rivalry, very one-sided might I add.

He'd come to you smirking by the end of the next exam with a mark higher than yours only to be surprised when you smile widley and congratulate him.

Every. Single. Time.

Huh?

You're not supposed to do that, your eyes are supposed to burn with determination and annoyance. You're supposed to snatch that paper from his hands and wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

Clearly not.

Its not even a fake smile, there isn't even a hint of malice in your eyes.

It's almost as if you're happy for him.

You don't even know him, not properly at least.

This really changes perspectives for the assassin so now he's shifted into doing everything in his power for your recognition.

Which doesn't seem to be very hard to gain as he notices that you're a bit popular in class.

Not entirely popular, but if students come up to you they'll only get a sweet greeting every time as if they're a long-time friend of yours.

You're basically Koro-sensei's golden child. Wide sparkling eyes every time you put your hand up in class to you answer his questions, he could weep at how adorable you are.

Everyone comes up to you for anything really.

Help with homework, a quick check in, or just to talk. You're always so easy to talk to, so gentle all the time.

Even Itona will quietly chat with you in a corner.

You're just so...approachable.

In Karma's eyes that's unfair. He needs to catch your attention and now.

Maybe to prove something to himself or just boredom, he doesn't need a reason.

So now he's the one asking for homework help. He can answer the questions in his sleep, you know it too.

He's still gonna play dumb, tap you on the shoulder and muster up his best clueless look.

Even in class, Karma has "coincidentally" managed to switch seats to be your desk partner.

You didn't hear it from me but maybe an octopus-like teacher has something to do with that.

Anyway.

Now that you're basically knee to knee with him in class, this allows karma to charm his way into your every day life.

Constantly stealing away your time with anything he can possibly think of.

He'll do this thing where he just wraps his arms around your shoulders and sultry whine into your ear.

"_____, help me please?"

He'll even throw in a pout.

Nagisa has to pry him off of you.

You don't even ask why he's suddenly around you nearly 24/7, you're just glad to be of help really and though you think he's a bit strange he's quite sweet.

A well known charismatic (possible) sadist, but sweet.

Class trip? He's sitting next to you on the bus.

Getting ice-cream? He already knows your favourite flavour.

Study session? You'll need to work together, being the two top students in class it would only be sensible to partner up for academics. This lead to him coming over a lot and vice versa, need to keep those grades up you know.

Spending the weekend at home? Don't be silly, you're flying to the country of your choice on a whim with a certain red-haired 'friend' of yours.

Having rich absent parents really does come in handy sometimes.

But this whole game is tiring him out.

You've gotten close, yes. He's flustered you plenty, yes. But you haven't confessed to him at all!

It's infuriating.

He wants you to like him at least, because he's teetering on the edge of obsession for you.

Because 'friends' don't hold hands all the time, they don't hug longingly or stay up late thinking of the other.

It'll all click in to place when he just goes red in the face, kisses your cheek once and just spews his feeling out like a flood.

"I like you."

"...Oh."

(⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ )

Coughing, he'll look away and pretend like nothing happened while trying desperately to renew his previous charm.

can the ground just open up and swallow him already, oh god.

“I…like you too.” you shyly smile

karma.exe has stopped working

#headcannons #anime #fiction #fluff #assclass x reader #assassination classroom x reader #assassination classroom #karma assassination classroom #karma x reader #karma akabane x reader #hes so babygirl #thank u for ur ask!#this was sitting in my drafts for so long im so sorry 😭

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fan-goddess · 6 months ago

Text

A Favourite Service

A/N: Just a drabble about darker!aemond. Could’ve probably made it longer but it is what it is

Warnings: Darker!Aemond, prince regent!aemond, reader is a dragonseed, smutty talk but no actual physical smut,

Taglist: @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee

Series Thing Masterlist

Sometimes it hurt to be the Prince Regents favourite.

You do not know why it was so, as the prince didn’t exactly spend his hours telling you why. Instead, he spent those hours between your thighs making them glisten with his spent.

When the prince fell asleep beside you, making sure his arms were interlocked tight behind your back to refuse you the right to leave, you would find yourself debating the possibilities in a strange sort of twisted way to help you to sleep.

When you felt your lowest with your skin damp from a mix of sweat and other unnamable bodily fluids, you’d imagine that the prince kept you because he found you to be the most beautiful maiden he’d ever seen in his life as a noble. But when you thought about it reasonably, you knew it was only because you were the only woman with eyes resembling that of the Valyrian shade of purple within the whole of the silkstreet with light as falling snow hair to match.

It appeared after the sudden desire for dragonseed during the war, the majority of them all fled to Lys where most of their kind walked among everyone else. Yet it seems you never got the call, as soon after the war stopped there was a sudden demand for your unique looking services. The once common exotic had became once more a much rarer sight to behold.

When the true king Aegon demanded to meet you whilst he was delirious on a multitude of substances beyond both yours and his comprehension, he let out a loud deep laugh and claimed that the reason for your own unique shade of eye colouring, as it was much darker than both his and his brothers, was due to your obviously whorish roots.

He spluttered and grinned obnoxiously as he gulped a third goblet of wine down his throat claiming he could smell the sweat and cum staining your skin.

Aemond said nothing while he stood by the corner with a face looking both solemn and bored. Yet when Aegon suggested with another laugh on his wine stained lips that you should demonstrate on him what your usual serving protocol is, as according to him since he was a well regarded patron of the trade he should be able to tell whether or not your services were good enough for his brother.

You looked to the Prince Regent unsure of whose orders to truly follow, and that is when Aemond finally moved from his statue like position in order to demand you to return to his chamber.

And soon as you took two steps away from the closed chamber doors, you swore to yourself that you heard the high pitched pained cries of the true king as he was beaten bloody by his younger, yet taller and more enraged brother.

So it really was no surprise when Aemond burst into his chambers a little time later and as soon as the doors shut, demanded you to strip yourself of all your clothing and to lay yourself arse up on the bed. It was his favourite position you think, as that way Aemond could feel he had a willing wife who loved him, and not some whore on her knees he’d paid to do so.

“Perfect cunt…” Aemond would sometimes grunt behind you, his infrequent words of praise sending a rare bolt of pleasure down your spine which most nights with the prince regent you’d be forced to exaggerate and play pretend too. As no matter how knowledgeable and scholarly the prince claimed to be in front of his much older peers, you knew an inexperienced man when you saw one.

It was a mere stroke of misfortune that the one that had been attracted to you was unwilling to learn about the idea of womanly pleasure it seems.

He had no idea how many times you exaggerated your fake cries of pleasure and clenched down on his cock pretending to orgasm all from his if anything quite average cock. Yet with how many times the prince regent pulled out of you just before he came so he could spill himself on your sweat layered skin you don’t think he cared if you came to begin with. Perhaps he was one of those so called gentlemen who believed women didn’t need to cum, thinking female pleasure to be a myth? Still, you’d never ask no matter how much your curiosity plagued you. Especially when the cries of the firstborn son plagued your mind whilst the prince regents breath taunted the very edge of your skin.

He had never let himself cum inside you when thinking of all the times he’d fucked you, as no matter how many times he would imagine you as a trueborn Valyrian child of his uncle, Aemond Targaryen knew you were nothing but a loosened up whore whose purse is filled daily by the coin of the treasury.

When the time comes for the death of either the true king or the death of the Prince regent, you know either way you will not be safe from the iron thrones wrath. For the true Queen Rhaenyra is still in hiding, with her precious uncle-husband guard dog close to her chest. It’s no secret within your old place of work what the rogue prince did to dragonseeds he came across.

#prince regent aemond #aemond #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #ewan mitchell #aegon targaryen #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you #aemond targaryen smut #my works #aemond targaryen/reader #aemond x reader #aemond fic

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nightisawkward · 14 days ago

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"Another challenger… it has been ages. Perhaps you have forgotten how this game is played. Allow me to remind you."

Happy halloween fellas!!! Hermitcraft/Life SMP inscryption AU ft. Boatem gang I cooked up awhile ago but never got around to posting B-) Wild life smp has reminded me how mentally ill I am about putting these Guys in Situations so here I am

Mild to major inscryption spoilers under the cut!

For those familiar with the game, the general roles are:

Luke Carter - "Challenger"/Grian

In this AU Grian is still a trading card-based youtuber who's recording all this nonsense going down real time as in canon, but has closer ties to the GameFuna company equivalent, named "WatcherCorp". His old college roommate/best mate Jimmy went to work for them, but mysteriously passed away in a fire at their headquarters. He found the Inscryption cards in Jimmy's leftover personal belongings a few years after his death, and decided that the best way to honor him would be to make a video featuring the project he put his heart and soul into... in more ways than one.

Key difference from canon Inscryption: Grian's mind is sucked into the game of Inscryption whenever he is playing. He is able to enter and leave the game at will, but he doesn't realize this until he first dies to Leshy/Pearl and ejects himself unconsciously out of fear of dying. The only reason he realizes he isn't hallucinating is because his camcorder footage proves he actually enters the game. He obtains the "Watcher's Eye" during Act 1, which he keeps for all future acts and allows him to see things he shouldn't see as a Challenger.

P03 - "Scarred Stoat"/Scar

Despite being the one who convinces Grian and the other Scrybes to stand up against Pearl, no one seems eager to spend any more time with the conniving conman than absolutely necessary. This may have something to do with Scar's history of backstabbing and cheating both Scybes and Challengers whenever it benefits him most. Which makes it rather unfortunate that Grian is must spend time with Scar in order to gather as much information as possible.

In the beginning, Scar and Grian do not get along in the slightest. Grian finds Scar's attitude too "fake", while Scar finds Grian's "cowardice" to be irritating. At some point, the two go from passive-aggressive fighting, to a grudging truce, to more friendly, lighthearted banter. Neither person seems to trust the other, but it doesn't seem to stop the two from being ✨saddled with unnecessary feelings✨. Scar's Act 3 world is much like Leshy's Act 1 world, with much more emphasis put on environmental storytelling and general Vibes than actual gameplay. Even if his game is a smokescreen for his true goal of Ascension, he feels strangely obligated to give Grian his best shot.

Scar in his proper Scrybe form appears more steampunk than canon P03. Think of a Grumbot with Scar's boatem base aesthetic and tons of missing nuts and bolts. P03's bastardous tendencies+ Scar's steampunk base made this role perfect for him.

Magnificus - "Horned Wolf"/Impulse

Impulse is a talented artist and an even more talented programmer. His future sight stems from his literal sight: His eyes are able to see read the code veil behind Inscryption, allowing him to predict likely futures based on what code is running. He often laments his status as an NPC, claiming that if he were given administrative privileges and the actual ability to modify source code he would have been able to escape Inscryption long ago.

He is rather absent in Act 2, focusing on finishing his "artwork" as soon as possible. He uses his brush to create a menagerie magical creatures with strange abilities in hopes that using one in battle might trigger a unfixable bug, allowing him to rip a hole through the source code. It is unclear whether he was able to accomplish his goal before Act 3 roles around, but it seems like Scar's method of Ascension seems awfully similar to Impulse's... perhaps a sneaky spy was able to steal Impulse's information?

As a proper Scrybe, he resembles a walking mop or a yak with overgrown fur. Most of his features are indistinguishable, save for his small horns and his glowing goat eyes.

Lemora - "Distinguished Stinkbug"/Mumbo

Mumbo is by far the most easygoing Scrybe in the cast. While he would greatly prefer an eternal slumber over yet another temporary ceasefire amongst the Scrybes, he is willing to work with the others in Act 1 simply because he finds his stinkbug form too uncomfortable to sleep in. Mumbo's goal is simple: to delete the game of Inscryption, and therefore himself, and finally rest. However, finds the constant power struggles in the world of Inscryption rather tiring and simply can't be bothered to make a grab for power himself to achieve this goal. This hasn't stopped him from asking Grian to destroy floppy disk of Inscryption. Unfortunately for him, the temptation of the o̷l̵d̷ ̶d̸a̶t̷ [REDACTED] mysteries within Inscryption are simply too powerful for Grian to resist.

As a proper Scrybe, he looks almost exactly like Mumbo's minecraft skin: A pale, mustached man with blood red eyes who resembles a vampire. Mumbo denies all vampire allegations. While he is the most "normal" looking Scrybe, Grian would still hesitate to call him "human" ...there's just something slightly off about his appearance that sets him on edge.

Leshy - "Game Master"/Pearl

Pearl is an unforgiving gamemaster that puts more emphasis on providing the player a challenge than her canon counterpart. After her self-proclaimed "tutorial", there is no more handholding and she gives Grian an absolute hellish time. Grian is only able to get a slight edge when he discovers all of the Scrybes, who provide him with stategy help to even the playing field. It is unclear whether Pearl actually enjoys running her Act 1 game or not: she seems to derive an animalistic pleasure from defeating Grian, but there are times where she seems tired and fed up with the endless gameplay loop and intentionally throws during key fights. She switches between manic and depressed at the drop of a hat.

During Act 2, she barely even tries to give Grian a challenge, allowing him to progress straight to her boss fight without any side quests to "get it over with quicker". She seems to hold a deep grudge against Scar for some reason, which is the only thing that motivates her to take action to stop him during Act 3.

Mysteriously, Grian finds a burned and unusable Unicorn card within her Act 1 cabin. Upon discovery, Scar immediately suggests that Grian leave it where he found it. Some things are best left forgotten, after all...

#grian #pearlescentmoon #goodtimeswithscar #impulsesv #mumbo jumbo #boatem #hermitcraft #life series #inscryption #boatem inscryption AU #my nart #I fucking love crossover AUs. Please talk to me about this please please please please please

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igotanidea · 1 year ago

Text

2 a.m. visit: Jason Todd x reader

link to the photo in the description, my mouth is foaming....

Summary: Y/N wakes up in the middle of the night to some disturbingly familiar sounds coming from her neighbour apartment.

Warnings: a bit of smut, but nothing too graphic (still MDNI), swearing, and possibly messed up ending.

***

It was 2 a.m. and she was fairly annoyed, knocking on her neighbour’s door.

God damn Jason Todd and his stupidly stupid habits of waking people in the middle of the night!

God damn Jason Todd who was apparently too busy making noises to open up!

“Todd!” she cried out, her rapping becoming more exasperated by a second. “TODD!” she couldn’t care less about the rest of the neighbours, who (with no hard feelings) were probably too old or too deaf to hear her calling. “Open up or I swear I’ll kick those doors”.

Obviously there was something around zero chances of her fulfilling that threat but what else was she supposed to do.

“TODD!!”

“What the hell?!” the door finally opened and the culprit himself stood up in front of her, wearing nothing but his boxers, his upper body exposed, his hair tousled in a perfect mess, his eyes a bit blurry. Clearly, it took him a second to realise that it was Y/N standing at his doorframe, but once he did, his eyes grew wide, he blushed a little and quickly grabbed one of his shirt hanging by the door and put it on it. “Y/N... I…. um….” He stuttered.

“Oh, stop with the fake modesty, Jason. I’ve patched you up too many times to care about you being covered or not.” She almost rolled her eyes at his actions.

“What…. I mean.. um... did something happened?” he mumbled looking at the floor. If only she knew what he was doing merely seconds ago she would probably understand why he was trying to cover himself up so desperately. Thank god, she was clueless, standing within arm’s reach of him, so cute and innocent in that pyjamas and without makeup.

“could you please moan quieter?” she asked, being as straight-forward and blunt as always.

“Wh-what -?” he could swear he had a mini heart attack the second those words left her lips. Oh, god…. “You-- ?”

“Thin walls.” She muttered.

“I…”

“Hey, it’s okay Jay. Don’t be embarrassed. We all have needs, I get that. But it’s not like I want to be up all night with that soundtrack in the background. However…” she trailed biting on her bottom lip to hide the amused smile showing on her face.

“What…?” Jason was both pale as a wall and red as a tomato.

“It’s quite a progress that I only hear one voice.”

His eyes grew wide once again, looking like a mill wheels. Oh shit, shit, shit….

“Y/N….”

“Sh. Told you, it’s okay. Apparently you got a way for girls to agree with you all the time. Yeah, I heard all those times too.” She winked at him. “But you’re alone tonight, aren’t you? Hope I didn’t ruin a perfectly good orgasm for another woman?”

“Y/N!!”

“What?”

“Stop it!” Shit, shit, shit.

“Why? Those are completely normal things, Jason. We are both adults and everyone else here is deep asleep, so what’s the problem?”

“YOU are my problem!” he cried out, pulling the shirt closer to his body, trying to hide something that was becoming terrifyingly visible. Fuck, she had no idea …

“Me?” Y/N frowned “Why me? Don’t be silly we are friends, I won’t give away which girl caught your attention. Besides, I didn’t hear you groaning any names so…” her casual shrugging almost made him yell in frustration. How could she possibly be so cool about everything, unfazed by the strangeness of the situation, while he was almost crawling out of his skin due to the mixed feelings?

“Fuck that!” he finally hissed and much to Y/N’s surprise grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside the apartment in the accompaniment of a single surprised cry.

“Hey! What’s with the passive aggression? I didn’t lock my flat!” poor girl tried to bypass him, but apparently Jason was dead set on making it impossible for her, standing in her way, his muscular frame blocking the exit.

“shut up!” he hissed, clenching his fists and it took her by surprise. Yes, she saw him pissed off before. Yes, she knew he was short-tempered and had anger management issues, but this? This was something different. Like he was walking on the edge, barely controlling himself but still fighting against blowing up in her face. Key word being barely.

“Jason….?” She stuttered taking a step back, bumping into table and almost throwing down the lamp. “Calm down… please…”

“Calm down?! The fuck am I supposed to calm down when you come here saying things like that to me, acting all innocent and pretending that you don’t see what you do to me!” he shouted taking as many steps forward as she was taking back.

“What I do to you?” she repeated, being completely oblivious to everything that was happening inside and outside Jason.

“Don’t pretend to be stupid!”

“HEY!”

“You do this on purpose!”

“Do what?! I don’t….holy shit!”

Mhm. Yes. You guessed it. She finally saw what she had been doing to him. And it was both exciting and disgusting. Jason was her friend! Her neighbour for god’s sake! A man who had different girl in his bed almost every night. Or every other night. And now… now he was clearly ready to make her one of his booty.

“Oh, no. No. No!” she scoffed “No way in hell.”

“Y/N…” Jason hissed, the way his body was reacting on having her so close was becoming painful. He took another step forward but she stopped him with putting a single finger up.

“Don’t! You dare move an inch. Why on earth do you have a hard on while …” she didn’t finish the sentence, her face dropping. “Oh… fuck… please tell me you didn’t …”

“Y/N….” he tried again, this time way more desperately.

“Oh my god… you did.” She gasped, her mind going into overdrive. “You did, didn’t you?”

“Please, just listen to me…” Jason Todd was whimpering like a dog, feeling like a total looser, embarrassed, humiliated, ready to crawl back to his grave and die because of the look she was giving him at the moment. It was never supposed to happen. She was never supposed to know or – god forbid – experience. It was supposed to be a secret. Closely guarded. To put it lightly, Jason was cursing himself for opening that stupid door in the first place. He foolishly believed that one round with imaginations in his head would be enough, but clearly it was not.

“Just say it! Come on, just admit it!”

“Fine! Fuck! Fine! I was thinking about you! Happy now?! I was thinking how it would be like to have you! To touch you, to kiss you, to hold you, to take you! Is that what you wanted to know?!”

“Damn Todd…”

“I can’t control it, even I wanted to! And the reason you didn’t hear any names through that fucking wall is…”

“No! No, don’t you dare saying it!” she rushed at him, putting her hand on his mouth, shutting him up.

The sudden contact, given the context of situation, was probably a mistake, since her touch sent shivers through Jason’s body and his eyes flashed dangerously with desire. Y/N was playing with fire now. The fire she was capable of starting so easily but unable to put out. And she knew it. And, being the perfect contrast to Jason’s burning, she froze at the spot.

They were standing in front of each other, in a dark apartment, Jason in boxers and shirt hanging loose from his body, doing nothing to hide those tons of muscles and Y/N in her pyjama, which was doing pretty much as little.

Slowly, mindful of every single muscle twitch she put her hand down, her eyes never leaving his. It was almost as if she was hypnotised. Or shocked. Or both. Her mind was screaming at her that Jason was her friend. Her friend. And it was unwise to ruin years of knowing each other just because she had the sudden urge of feeling the weight of his body on hers. Because for some unknowing reason, despite the fact that she saw those muscles and those scars so many times before, helping him with his injures, he never found him hotter than at that moment. Because the picture and imagination of his hands on her, his mouth on hers, kissing, biting, licking, tasting and exploring every inch of her skin, was doing so many things to her, she had to bite her bottom lip to stop the moan, arising inside her. Y/N heard a lot of girls through that wall and she knew Jason was more than skilled in the art of love making and pleasuring a woman. And despite all her morals and inhibitions the craving of him giving her a little demonstration was becoming unbearable.

That was not the plan.

That was definitely not the plan.

But she was just a woman, who hasn’t been touched in a while and her neighbour/ best friend, was apparently (and visibly) more than ready to help fight that touch starvation.

Shit.

Her gaze landed on those perfectly sculpted abs, chiselled chest, strong arms… Her mind started wondering of what it would be like to be gripped by them so tight it would leave hand shaped bruises, what it would feel like to be left breathless due to the pressure of his body pushing her into the mattress, to lose her voice while calling his name, feeling him in the most intimate way possible.

Shit.

She tried to not look at his face, to avoid those green eyes filled with lust. For her, for her body, for her moans, the taste of her lips, the feeling of her skin under his fingertips.

Oh, yes, she tried so hard.

To the best of her abilities and her obviously unwavering values.

She even tried to move back to run away from her own needs, which, ironically, she called normal a few minutes ago, while standing at his doorframe.

Funny how the tables turned, cause now she was all hot and bothered, feeling like a freaking prey while Jason was the hunter. And given all his Red Hood skills, he was not going to let go before getting the bunny he’s been chasing.

“I want you.” He whispered with that hoarse, low voice, making her take a sharp breath, almost catching in her throat. “I want you…” he repeated, appearing right next to her in a split second, grabbing her by the waist, pulling her to him, one of those perfectly thick thighs pressing between her legs in a way that made her buck her hips forward, wetness soaked her pyjama pants, her core craving friction. “Babygirl…” Jason whispered in her ear, brushing lips over her earlobe, and cheek, his breath burning her skin as he moved to nibble and lick the soft spot on her neck with his obviously trained tongue. Y/N could only fantasise what it would do in some other place.

“Jason…” she moaned.

“Yes, princess….” This was not a question. He didn’t have to ask what she wanted cause he already knew, probably even better than she herself could express. “Say yes… come on, sunshine. Let me make you feel good. Let me show you the pleasure you never knew before.” He kept caressing her, hands finding a way under her pyjama shirt, travelling up, feeling her soft skin, moving up to her breasts, not covered by bra, almost touching them, but leaving her wanting and needing.

“how are you so cocky now…?” she gasped, her body squirming when he pressed her into a wall. “you weren’t so self-assured a minute ago.”

“I must be doing something wrong if you can still think logically…” he smirked, reaching fingers up under her shirt, brushing over her boobs, causing another shudder. “Say yes…” he grabbed her tighter, showing all the man attitude. “Just say yes, baby…”

“Fuck… shit…” his thigh was pressing into her core invitingly and she wanted nothing more than to brush against it, but he was effectively preventing her from doing so. Little bastard wanted to be in control and to break her.

“Not even close, baby…” he nuzzled his nose in her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo mixed with the smell of her skin. “I want you… you want me… you can make it easy with just one word. Come on…” he started tracing the letters of said word on her waist, scratching gently, adding to her arousal “Y-E…”

“YES! Ok, fuck, yes, yes! I – mhp!”

She didn’t get to finish the sentence when his lips finally crashed on hers, hands grabbing her waist lifting her up and holding tightly against him, her back pressing into a wall, her legs wrapping around him. Each of Jason’s caress and movement was an entire declaration of the feeling that he had kept hidden for months, trying to suppress his affection for Y/N with multiple one night stands.

In a blink of an eye, his shirt was gone and Y/N was tracing over his skin, seemingly in the same way she’s been doing while cleaning him after patrols, but in fact, completely differently.

This whole situations was completely different, emotions and hormones running high and wild, out of any control, not that either of them wanted it.

No.

No, fuck the control. All they needed was the release, the sweet feeling of being with each other in that perfect, unfiltered, unadulterated way. No hesitation, no inhibitions just all the feels, even if they had no idea what they were doing, but also at the same time, moved with purpose, heading towards a specific goal.

Hands, lips, tongues, teeth, muscles.

Fingers tangling in hairs, hot, ragged breaths, mouth whispering love letters on skin, the urge to be even closer than physically possible.

Just them two in their bubble in dark room in a dark apartment.

Full desire.

Full pleasure.

The warmth of the other’s body, shivers of lust and excitement all over.

“Jason…” she whispered, letting go of him for a second to allow him to take her sleepwear off.

“Y/N… Y/N… oh, mine, mine…” Jason might have read hundredths of books in his life and had a vast vocabulary range but at his moment, he was only using body language, the only word on his mind was her name. HER name.

“Please…” she whispered, grabbing him tighter, running nails down his back. “Please…” she begged for the release, craving the feeling she’s been missing for such a long time, grinding on him, aching.

“Oh, princess, I’ll give you everything you want. But I want you in my bed first.” He smirked, pressing his lips to hers again, tasting her, while carrying her to bedroom, kicking the doors shut the second they reached the destination. “you’re the queen, I’m not taking you against the wall, baby.” he threw her on the bed, immediately climbing on top of her, spreading her legs and diving into her core perfectly, without even trying.

It was like they were made for each other.

“More…oh, more…”

“Yes.. yes, more… everything you want, baby. Everything you need from me. Everything.” He whispered into her ear, giving justice to all her fantasies from before. “Sing for me, my angel.”

Heaven is not a place. Heaven is a person.

And Jason was hers as much as she was his.

***

When she woke up next morning at first she couldn’t recognise the place she was in. But the sheets smelled like him and she smiled to herself, remembering the last night, what they did, how many times and in how many ways they explored their bodies, breaking the laws of biomechanics and flexibility in the process. Who would have thought that you can fit as many things in such little amount of time.

There was still this pleasurable tingling on her skin in the places where he kissed and touched and devoured her. Hopefully he felt the same given all the crazy things she did for him.

And speak of the devil, her night-time hero walked right through the door with a sleepy expression on his face and with the perfect bedhead, curls falling into his face.

“No breakfast?” she teased, noticing his empty hands “what happened to treating me like a queen?”

“Hm…” Jason muttered in response, blushing ever so slightly “are you asking for more of it? I’m more than ready for it, but figured you’d still like to walk…”

She laughed a little when he jumped on the bed next to her, resting head on arms, looking at her lovingly, melting her heart.

“Hey Jason….”

“Hey yourself, pretty one…”

“Look, I…” she sighed not sure what to do now and how to figure out her own feelings. Jason was clearly head over heels for her and slowly, the guilt and remorse that she had only used him in the moment of weakness and body talk, started creeping in.

“Sh. You don’t need to say a thing.”

“But…”

“Not a thing, Y/N.” he said again, propping himself up and kissing her temple “I’m just glad you’re here with me. I don’t really need much more…”

Liar.

Of course he wanted more. He wanted her to love him back, to be his one and only, to have her exclusively, to be her boyfriend, with the tiniest amount of luck. But on the other hand he was also desperate and would settle for any scrap of her affection that was more than friend-like. Hoping that with the right amount of patience (which he lacked), stubbornness (which he had in excess) and caring he would get the same confession out of her in the future.

@lightwing-s

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #red hood smut #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #dc smut #neighbour!jason todd

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 15 days ago

Text

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 14

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 14 🔞

Word Count: 4413

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU; Mention of ex mentally abusive relationship;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: There's a bit of NSFW at the end of the chapter (what can I say, Law can't keep his hands to himself!) Seems like Doffy and Ichiji are intent on messing with Law and reader's mind... what do you think?

“You may now kiss the bride.” Loud cheers follow the officiant’s words as Sai dips his head to kiss Baby 5. It's strange how you've only just met Baby 5, and now you're tearing up at seeing how happy she looks.

Dabbing a bit of moisture from the corner of your eye with your knuckle, you turn towards the chairs and lock eyes with Law again. He seems pretty bored with the service, but when he senses your gaze land on him, his eyes soften, filling with warmth.

Trafalgar Law is incapable of smiling at the end of his cousin's wedding, but one look from you makes the ice melt? What did you do to deserve him?

As the bride and groom walk away from the altar, guests start to rise, ready to meet the couple and congratulate them. Law approaches you with a smile, reaching for your hand. “I missed you.” His voice rings low and inviting, and you immediately blush when his hand slides up your arm and cups your cheek.

“I was right here, in front of you.”

“But I wasn't touching you.” You giggle and lean into his touch, resting your hands against his chest and letting out a prolonged sigh. “Let me guess, Vinsmoke was an inappropriate bastard?” Law's tone turns from warm to icy in the blink of an eye.

“Just his usual manipulative crap. But I handled him.” You smirk, tilting your head innocently. “I told him that if he touched me, I’d stab him with the cake knife. It was rather effective.”

Law laughs, a hint of pride in his eyes, then kisses your lips softly. “That’s my girl.” You nearly melt in his embrace before sharing another kiss and finally exit the tent to celebrate the newlyweds.

You and Law stand a bit apart from the rest of the guests, secluded in your own bubble as he wraps his arms around you from behind. “You know,” he begins, “I can’t wait to take you home.”

“What do you mean? Like, to the room?” You snicker and turn your head to gaze at him. “Because I’m not against sneaking out for a little bit.” You say sultrily, leaning in to give him a small peck.

“Not what I meant, sweetheart, but an interesting proposition.” You chuckle as he bites your lip playfully. “I mean, really get home. Start our ‘something real’ in the real world. Away from… all this.”

You nod at his words, your heart warming a little more in your chest now that he’s actually said you’ll have something serious.

“But it’s not so bad here, is it? I mean, besides your uncle, we’re together in a very romantic setting, if I might add.”

He’s about to answer, a slight furrow of his brow indicating he’s going to share something that’s bothering him, when Baby 5 interrupts you both, calling your name. “I’ve been calling you for photos for a while! All the bridal party is gathering, and you’re the only one missing.” The bride grabs your hand, pulling you along while you hesitate.

“Oh, I don’t think it feels right, Baby 5. I mean, I’m just a fill-in, I don’t want your wedding photos to be ruined.” You try, a dry smile playing on your lips.

“Nonsense! You're already part of my day, come on, now!” Law releases you from his embrace with a reassuring smile.

“I'll be here if you need me.” He adds.

“Law, come on, she's just taking pictures. What will she need you for? In case the boogeyman shows up?” Baby 5 snorts, but Law grunts.

“He's already here…” He mumbles, but the bride is already halfway to the fountain where the pictures are being taken.

With a look back at Law and a longing sigh, you fall into place near the other bridesmaids as the photographer starts choreographing the wedding party for some candid shots. Everything is working out well until Ichiji takes advantage of the opportunity created by the photographer’s mixing up the party, and stands by your side.

“Here we are again, Doll. Are you still mad at me?” He's using that honeyed tone he used when he missed an important anniversary, had to reschedule a date, or, really, whenever he disappointed you. Your heart starts hammering against your chest in that familiar dance as anxiety takes over your senses.

“I never stopped. Now leave me alone.” You can’t help the shakiness in your voice, but you still deliver the words. You try to move away, but the photographer yells, ‘Perfect, now smile!’ So you stay still for the shot, feeling Ichiji's fingers creep around your waist. “Don't touch me!” You mutter, fists trembling as you try to maintain a happy smile.

Click. ‘Another pose, everyone!’

You move to the other side, but peace doesn't last as Ichiji ends up next to you again. “Can't bygones be bygones? I already said I was sorry for cheating. It's just… nobody compares to you, Doll.” ‘Smiles! Big smiles!’ He leans close to your ear, his hot breath making you shiver in discomfort as you bite the inside of your cheek for grounding. “No one gives me as much joy to break as you.”

Click.

You turn, facing him with fire in your eyes, ignoring the way your heart tries to leap out of your chest. “I'm not the same naive girl I was, Ichiji. I refuse to fall for your manipulations. You are nothing to me now.”

‘Oh, someone's not smiling. Let's give it another shot!’

You seethe, gritting your teeth and forcing a smile, trying to ignore Ichiji's hand searching for yours, sweat dampening your forehead.

“I'm nothing to you now? But I used to be your everything. You can't let go of that so easily.”

‘Much better! Come on, now, mix it up again, goofy poses and we'll be done.’

“You seem like the one who can't let go, Ichiji. You were a mistake, and I've learned my lesson. Leave. Me. Alone.” This time, you stand well away from him. Sugar, already a bit tipsy, swings her arms around you for support, and you lean on her for a fun candid shot. Ichiji stays away.

Thankfully.

-*-

“Here, Nephew, I thought you might need a mimosa to help you through this.” Law sighs, his eyes never leaving you as you stand in perfect alignment with the other bridesmaids, a beautiful smile on your face.

Accepting the drink from Doffy, he takes a sip and grimaces. “There's no orange juice in this mimosa, Uncle.”

Doflamingo chuckles and shrugs innocently. “Oops.” Law doesn't feel like engaging with him anymore, but he can't leave this spot. Vinsmoke seems to be following you around the set, and he's about one more smirk from the redhead away from marching down there.

“Curious, isn't it, Nephew?” Law doesn't fall for the trap, though he knows very well that not asking won't stop his uncle from talking. “The way she keeps getting angry at him… look at all that… fire.”

Law takes another sip of his orange-free mimosa - champagne - a big one this time, clenching his fist against his leg and trying his hardest to ignore his uncle.

“I'm happy you trust her, but I don't. I know her kind. She was with Vinsmoke before, and we all know how… likeable he is. So it can't have been for his personality, come on.” Doffy's chuckle turns dark and ominous.

“Thank you for worrying, but we're fine.” Law's teeth clack together as he sets his jaw, trying to keep himself from grunting. He can feel you're distressed, but you can hold your own. You wouldn't want him to disrupt the wedding.

“Yes, fine… for now. But look at them, Law, really look at them.” Vinsmoke’s hand is on your waist, and you didn't swat him away, he's leaning toward your ear, whispering something, and the fire in your eyes burns with such intensity he can almost feel the heat from this distance. You don't want him near you, though you’re trying your hardest not to disrupt the photoshoot.

“Sure, Uncle. All I see is hatred.”

Doflamingo moves to stand directly in Law’s line of sight, making sure Law listens to what he has to say. “Exactly. When you stop caring, you become indifferent, cold, calloused. When you still care, it means you still feel. Hatred is just one small step away from passion.” Doffy takes a long gulp of his ‘mimosa’ and laughs, his eyes glinting as Law finds it harder and harder to shield his own emotions. “And, you know, Law… they both burn with the same intensity.”

-*-

“Thank God, that's over.” You mutter as you approach Law with a smile. “Hey.” His smile seems a bit more strained, but he doesn't shy away from your hug. “Missed me?”

Law chuckles, but a harsh line still remains between his brows, and this time, there's nothing stopping you from smoothing it with your fingertips.

“What's wrong?” Law's deep sigh is a bit disconcerting, like he's carrying a weight you're not privy to. “You can tell me everything, you know? This trust thing, it's a two-way street…” Your tone seems light, but the intensity in your gaze proves your sincerity.

“Doffy's been messing with my mind.” A groan vibrates against your neck when he buries his head against it. “Sometimes it's just hard to believe how lucky I am.” He trails a few kisses up your neck, along your jawline and stops a breath away from your lips. “How lucky I was to meet you.”

Threading your fingers through his hair, you close the distance between your mouths. Law pulls you by the waist against him in a consuming kiss. It's passionate, it's intense, it's mind-blowing. Like everything else with Law. When you pull away, he still chases your lips to steal one more touch.

“We're both lucky, then. Because I'm the happiest I've ever been.” Law's gaze finally softens, and that annoying dip of his forehead disappears. “Please don't let any of your uncle’s words get into your head.”

Law nods, parting the hug and pulling you by the hand towards where the other guests are. “I won't.”

“Promise?” You plant your feet, not budging when he pulls you, so he can look you in the eyes. “You know he has an agenda, Law. He brought my freaking ex into this. He'll try to break us apart, I can feel it.”

“Sweetheart, there's nothing in this world that can take you away from me, got it?” Law gives you a reassuring smile along with a caress on your cheek, but none of it eases the weight in your chest or the feeling of foreboding in his words.

-*-

The reception is in full swing now. Speeches have been recited, along with plenty of toasts. Food - and drinks - are flowing freely and everyone seems a bit tipsy and cheerful.

“Can I have a dance with the lady?” A hand hovers in front of your face, and you smile widely.

“Careful,” Law speaks to you in a hushed tone, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Cora has two left feet.” You smile at the indignant look on Cora’s face as you take his hand in yours.

“I resent that, Law. When it comes to dancing, I’m very graceful. It’s with everything else that I’m a little bit clumsy.” The two men share a warm smile before Law’s uncle ushers you onto the dance floor, leaving him to stare at you both, which only lasts a couple of seconds as someone approaches him.

“Trafalgar, may I have a word with you?”

Law sighs and closes his eyes as if gathering patience. “Vinsmoke. What do you want?”

“To clear the air between us. It seems a bit… stifling.” Ichiji laughs, taking a sip of his champagne.

“Consider it cleared, then. Thank you for the chat.” Law turns to leave, but Ichiji ignores his attempt to exit and continues speaking.

“I remember things about her that you most likely haven’t learned yet.” The smirk he shows Law is lecherous, but Law merely clenches his jaw in response. “How she likes to be touched, her scent… the exquisite way she tastes. Unforgettable.”

His words sting. Law doesn’t want to imagine you with anyone else, let alone this creep. But he knows you were intimate with him, obviously, and he also knows Ichiji will thrive if he gets a rise out of him. So Law takes a deep, steadying breath, sipping his drink and watching you glide gracefully in Cora’s arms, a deep smile upon your lips.

“I had four years with her. I know every shiver, every tremble, every gasp and mewl by heart. It’s not something that can be easily unlearned.” He taunts, his smirk growing wider.

Law’s throat constricts, and he swallows hard to force out his words. “Interestingly enough, she forgot you just fine.” Law is not going to stoop as low as Ichiji is stooping. But he could remind the jerk that you told him you’d never felt the same way you do for Law towards anyone else. And that includes this bastard. But he doesn’t need to share that knowledge, as long as Law knows it, he’s perfectly fine. “It’s actually impressive, Vinsmoke, that you spent four years with her and still managed to let her slip between your fingers.” Law shrugs nonchalantly. “I guess I should thank you, though. For being an asshole. That way, she saw right through you.”

Ichiji’s smirk falters as he takes a small step back. “Just face it, Trafalgar, you’ll never have what I had with her.”

Law smirks, letting out a cold, detached laugh. “Thank God for that. Why would I want a failed, toxic relationship when I have something so much better?”

That worked well enough to wipe the stupid smirk off his face. “This is not over yet.” Ichiji mumbles.

“Oh, but it is, Vismoke.” This time, it’s Law who leans closer to Ichiji, his taller frame casting an ominous shadow over the redhead. “I’ll say this once, leave her alone or you’ll find out just how protective I can be of what’s mine.” Law’s voice is cold and dangerous, and Ichiji clenches his jaw in response.

Realising he can’t rile Law up, he retreats, mumbling curses under his breath as Law finally relaxes his stiff posture and refocuses his gaze on you. Between Doffy’s manipulations and Ichiji’s devious words, Law begins to think they may have joined forces to disrupt his and your peace.

-*-

“You really are a great dancer, Cora, you weren’t lying.” You tease the older man with a smile, and he laughs back at you.

“Thank you, thank you.” He sends you for a twirl to emphasise what a great dancer he is, pulling another heartfelt laugh from you. When you’re back in his arms, his smile is still in place. “Truly, thank you.” He nods towards where Law stands and sighs. “It’s been years since I’ve seen him this happy. I’ve seen him at his best and his worst… he’s been through a lot, but just seeing how at ease he is by your side…” Cora’s hand squeezes yours and he lets the rest of the sentence unsaid.

You see Ichiji next to Law, and your stomach churns. “It’s mutual, actually. I’ve been at my worst for a few years… and with Law…” Your smile lights up your whole face. “It’s all so simple with him, familiar even. Like we always knew each other and were just waiting to meet again.”

Your deep, enamoured sigh makes Cora beam as well. “It’s a wonderful feeling, seeing him this unguarded. We went through some dark times when his parents and sister passed, it was tough on all of us. But as he grew up, he seemed to return to the ease he had as a child. And then…”

Cora inhales deeply, a flicker of pain crossing through his eyes, as if he’s not quite sure whether he should be the one to speak of Law’s heartaches.

“Monet?”

Cora’s nod is almost imperceptible. “It wasn’t just that she abandoned him, I think he would’ve gotten through that. It was the betrayal. She broke his trust. And back then, he placed his trust much more easily than he does now. Doffy thought he was teaching a tough-love lesson to Law, and he did. Except that lesson took its toll and Law stopped trusting people altogether. He built his walls so high it was impossible for anyone to scale them. Even me…”

Your hand grips Cora’s shoulder tighter. You can sense that he must have resented Doflamingo and what he did as well.

“I honestly thought he would never let anyone get close to him again.” A sad smile plays on Cora’s lips as he looks at you. “Eventually, he let me in again, and some of his walls crumbled, but never long enough for another relationship to blossom. I’m so grateful to you, I truly am.”

For a second, your heart clenches. You and Law have both lied to this wonderful man. He doesn’t know that you started this with a fake relationship. But you’re not faking anything now, so you can’t feel guilty about that, right?

And there’s no way you’ll ever break the trust Law has placed in you. You did the same for him as well: you opened up, baring all your insecurities and shame, and he took you in with open arms and zero judgement. You’re both helping each other heal.

“Law deserves to be happy. To feel like he can trust and be trusted again. I want to be that person for him.” You can’t help the way your eyes shine as you speak these words, they sound like a vow, a promise, and you know that’s what they truly are.

“I think you already are.” Cora laughs and spins you one last time before the song ends, and he takes you back to Law.

Law’s forehead is sporting that annoying dip again, and you know his conversation with Ichiji must not have been a pleasant one.

“Here she is, Law. Safe and sound, no squished toes or sprained ankles.” You laugh alongside Cora, and even Law lets out a chuckle. “Have fun, you two.” Cora waves and retreats back to the party, stumbling over a chair and dragging down a plate of dessert with him. “I’m fine!” He exclaims as Law sighs and you giggle.

“Hi.” He murmurs as he places his hands on your waist and pulls you in for a small peck. “Want to get out of here?” Law’s lips curve into a mischievous smirk that has you chewing your lower lip in anticipation.

“We can’t. It’s too soon.” But heat is already gathering in your core as Law’s hands roam your sides.

“We’ll come back.” The whisper in your ear is sultry and makes promises you know he intends to keep.

“Ten minutes…” You exclaim, already losing a battle you never intended to win anyway.

“Half an hour, at least.” He groans in your ear, hands tightening on your hips.

“Fifteen minutes?” You gasp when his lips kiss your neck. “Okay, half an hour.”

“You’re easily convinced…” A chuckle escapes your lips as you let him take your hand and guide you into the house. You both pass a few guests on the way but try to look as inconspicuous as ever as you navigate the ground floor. Law pulls you to a dimly lit hallway and opens a tiny door, it’s a small closet with some of the guests’ jackets and purses.

With one last check of the hallway, he pulls you in and presses you against the wall, his body instantly pinning yours as his lips devour yours with unbridled hunger. His hands tease and grope your nipples and sides, roaming with intent, making you shiver and tremble under his devotion.

“Couldn't make it to the room?” You whisper between bated breaths, and he chuckles, his lips pressed against your neck.

“Sweetheart, if I took you to our room, we wouldn’t return to the party tonight. And my cousin will be very disappointed if we’re not here for the slicing of the cake.” Law’s fingers curl the fabric of your dress, pulling it up and settling on your thighs. As his fingers catch on the lace of your panties, he groans, and you sigh. Law immediately catches your mouth in his, his other hand tangles your hair, and he tugs softly to deepen the kiss. The fire burning between your legs feels like molten lava coursing through your veins.

“Law…” You mumble when he breaks the kiss to nibble at your jawline.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to have to be very quiet. Because no one can see us here, but they can hear us.” His lips trail a path down your neck and over your collarbone. One of his hands returns to tease your nipple while the other plays with the hem of your panties. “Can you do that?”

“Depends.” You let out a breathy whisper.

“On what?”

“On what you plan on doing to me.” Then you have to bite your lip to stifle a mewl as Law’s finger plunges inside your slit, finding you already dripping wet. He groans into your ear, his body pressed against yours only adds stimulation to the ungodly things his fingers are doing inside you.

“Oh, I have very mischievous plans for you.” A small whimper escapes your lips as he circles your clit with his thumb. “Don’t make a sound, sweetheart.”

But that’s easier said than done. He eases another finger inside, but his rhythm is insanely slow. He circles your clit in tortuous motions, and just as pleasure is mounting up, the smallest of mewls leaves your lips and he stops, mouth hovering over yours. “Not a sound.” You move your hips against his hand in a silent plea for more, for him to finish what he started, and he returns his ministrations. Slowly, languorously, lazily. He’s driving you insane.

“More, Law, please.” You mumble, feeling your legs already trembling and the intense coil of desire ready to snap.

“If you want more, you need to take it in silence.” His fingers flick your nipple, and you stifle another moan while you nod vigorously. “Eyes on me, sweetheart. If I’m not going to hear you scream, I need to see you fall apart.”

His fingers plunge deeper and faster, the pressure on your clit maddening as your breaths come in shallow, nearly silent gasps. Focusing your eyes on his, you can see the amber in them shining as he takes you in. Your legs tremble relentlessly, and you know you won’t be able to stay silent, not when the pleasure is overwhelming you, crashing with waves of bliss. So Law takes your lips in his and rides your orgasm with you in a shattering kiss, muffling your moans and swallowing your screams.

When he pulls back and removes his fingers, you’re panting, small beads of sweat dampening your skin as Law smirks at you. “That’s my good girl.” His hand tilts your chin upwards so you meet his gaze again. “Think you can keep that up?” His tone hides a dare, and you don’t quite get what he means until he starts unbuckling his belt, his hand reaching into his pocket for a condom.

A slight flush creeps into your cheeks as you nod. “I can be quiet.” He grins, getting ready and aligning himself with your entry while a hand wraps under your thigh, elevating it to create an angle.

“Not a sound, sweetheart.” His whisper against your ear sends a shiver down your spine, anticipation making you tingle as you grasp his shoulders for purchase. His other hand holds your hip steady as he pushes himself inside you, slowly, inch by inch. Your head falls back in abandon as you trap an earth-shattering moan behind closed lips. “You take me so well, you feel so good.”

Law’s grip is firm and possessive as he thrusts with intent. He doesn’t want to keep you on edge this time, he knows there’s every chance of both of you getting caught, so he’s searching to fulfil your pleasure and his with effectiveness. “You’re clenching me so hard, sweetheart. Are you close again?”

You try to answer him, but a whimper comes out instead, and he groans. “I love that you can’t help but make noises for me.” Law’s control is also slipping, he clenches his jaw, brow furrowed tightly as his thrusts become relentless. “Almost there?”

A nod is your answer as your nails dig into his chest, gripping the lapels and trying to ground you on firm reality. “Fuck.” Law lets out just as a wanton moan begins to crescendo on your lips. He silences you with another kiss as the both of you swallow each other’s broken noises, ones you can’t seem to keep quiet as you fall apart and pleasure overwhelms you, overriding all sense of decorum.

The tremors of the aftershock still course through you, making you shiver as Law pulls back, breathless and grinning at you. “You did so well, sweetheart.” He kisses you and caresses your cheek with his thumb as he composes his pants and helps you straighten your dress and hair.

You open your mouth and instantly close it. Almost. It was just there. Three words. I love you. You almost said it.

“That was incredible, Law.” These words are safer. These words don’t bring uncertainty or disappointment if he doesn’t feel the same. So you stick with them. “Do you think anyone noticed our absence?” You’re still trying to catch your breath as your emotions rage war inside you.

“In the middle of so many guests? Maybe just my uncle…” You cringe, Doffy is the last person you want to have noticed you slip away. “I’ll go ahead and head to the bathroom, we’ll meet up at the reception, how about that?” You nod, you’re composed enough, Law helped you. The only thing that might give you away is the slight flush of your cheeks or the silly grin you can’t seem to erase. Law kisses your nose in an affectionate manner and opens the closet door. “See you soon.”

You wait another minute while untangling your hair and, with a deep inhale, you exit the closet, heading down the hall towards the garden.

“Cariño, having fun?”

Shit.

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|Chapter 15|

#one piece #reader insert #reader x #one piece fanfiction #modern world au #the meet-cute #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #reader x law #you x law #law x reader #law x you

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jjkamochoso · 3 months ago

Text

Obviously Oblivious

Fluff

Soshiro Hoshina x gn!reader

Request from Wattpad: "Reader and Hoshina are being so oblivious that they both like each other to the point where this absolutely annoys Mina and Okonogi because they are ITCHING to see both of them together."

Warnings: none

Another mission done, another celebration was happening at Third Division’s base. Though her subordinates were known for their high success rate, Captain Ashiro was pleasantly surprised by just how smoothly the last kaiju disposal went, opting to treat her soldiers with a special catered feast. Thanks to Izumo’s family connections, the chef served sizzling plates of A6 beef and endless amounts of accoutrements for the standard price, making Mina’s soldiers happy and the military budget even happier. Mina captured a piece of meat between her chopsticks, quietly observing the rowdy group in front of her. Konomi Okonogi sat to her right, a steaming bowl of soup fogging up her glasses. Mina stifled a giggle as she watched the girl wipe her lenses with her sleeve, heavily squinting. Satisfied with her work, Okonogi placed the glasses back on her face and blinked a few times, looking around the room. All of a sudden, her eyes went wide.

“You alright?” Mina asked her, noticing her change in expression.

Okonogi nodded, sputtering slightly. “Huh? O-oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

Mina wasn’t convinced, raising her eyebrows at the bespectacled woman expectantly.

“Well, I…” she hesitated before finishing her thought. “Hoshina and L/n are sitting awfully close together.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Yes!” Okonogi exclaimed, Mina surprised by her outburst. Her face turned beet red as she hurriedly explained herself.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Captain! It’s just that their behavior together is strange. Quite frankly, they’ve been getting on my nerves.”

The operations leader took a sip of her drink and Mina’s curiosity was piqued. Having had her own thoughts surrounding the actions of a certain vice captain and officer, Mina was wondering if she finally found someone she could vent her frustrations to.

“They seem to like each other,” she mused, treading lightly in case she misread the situation.

“Like each other?! Total understatement. Those two are hopelessly in love but won’t do a thing about it!” Okonogi complained, irritated.

“I thought I was the only one that noticed!” Mina replied, excited that the woman beside her was the perfect confidant she’d been yearning for. “They drive me crazy with their cluelessness!”

“Exactly! I don’t know how they don’t see their feelings for each other! I mean, they’re blinder than I am without my glasses! It’s ridiculous!”

“I don’t usually condone relationships in the workplace but those two really are perfect for each other,” said Mina, eyeing you and Soshiro as you giggled over something he had whispered to you. It made Mina’s heart soar in her chest seeing people experience happiness in these moments, when the death and destruction you all faced almost every day could be forgotten for a short time.

“Oh my god, Captain.” Okonogi tugged at Mina’s sleeve. “I think Soshiro’s gonna put his arm around y/n’s shoulder!”

“No way,” Mina breathed out, anxiously watching as Soshiro scooted closer to you, if that were even possible. He looked fidgety.

Probably nervous, Mina thought, staring down the lovebirds. Soshiro was ready to make his move. He brought his hand over his mouth—

He wasn’t going to do that. Was he?

“OH MY GOD!” Mina practically yelled as Soshiro faked a yawn, stretching his muscular arm behind you and resting it comfortably on your chair. The room went silent almost immediately, soldiers turning to see what was going on with their captain.

“That food was really hot,” Mina lied, trying to hide her embarrassment behind a napkin. “I’m fine. Everyone, back to what you were doing.”

In an instant it was like nothing happened, rambunctious chatter filling the space once more. You and Soshiro weren’t phased either, easing back into what Mina figured was your previous conversation. Soshiro’s arm was still around you and Mina was relieved that she didn’t jeopardize this huge stride in your non-relationship.

“What a classic move,” Okonogi said, resting her chin in her palm. “If that wasn’t enough to make them realize their feelings, I don’t know what will.”

“Don’t underestimate their ability to be emotionally unaware,” warned Mina, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t be surprised if y/n read that as a friendly gesture. They’re both oblivious to romance.”

“They’ve made that quite clear,” griped Okonogi, observing you holding up a spoon to Soshiro’s lips as he took a bite of whatever you offered him. You were laughing with each other again and Okonogi was confused at how any of that behavior could be so deeply misconstrued as anything other than flirtatious.

“Should we do something about this? I don’t know how much more I can take,” Okonogi said.

“I worry it may be unprofessional to get involved, however helpful our interference might be,” replied Mina.

Okonogi sighed. “You’re right. Besides, it is pretty fun to watch this play out. It’s like a soap opera.”

Later that night, Mina and Okonogi were about to say goodbye to one another after making sure no soldier was left passed out at the dining tables. With dinner cleaned up and everybody walking or stumbling back to their rooms, they closed the door and made their way down the abandoned hallway.

Actually, they made their way down what they thought to be an abandoned hallway.

The two women shared a knowing look when they heard stifled giggles echoing from around the corner.

“You’re always so funny, Soshiro,” your voice rang out, and Mina and Okonogi could only imagine the sickly sweet smile you were giving the man.

“Gotta stay on top of my game to keep ya around,” he teased, and they could only image the lovesick grin he was sending your way.

“It’s getting late. I should get going,” you told him.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll see ya tomorrow?”

Mina and Okonogi didn’t miss the hopeful lilt coating his voice.

“Of course,” you had replied. “I’d miss you too much if I didn’t see you.”

It took everything within themselves to not slam their heads against the wall. How were you two so… so…

Dumb?!

“That’s it. I’ve heard enough,” Okonogi said, marching down the corridor. Mina had no idea what was about to happen, she just knew she couldn’t miss it. She hurried behind Okonogi, rounding the corner at the perfect time.

“Both of you! You’re driving me insane! Kiss already, dammit!” Okonogi demanded, startling you and Soshiro. She left as quick as she came in, leaving Mina dumbfounded.

“Have a good night,” she told you, hands awkwardly clasped behind her back as she nodded before hurrying away. Recovering from the unexpected chewing out, you glanced at Soshiro, a mischievous gleam in your eye.

“Okonogi’s never given us a bad command, has she?” you asked, hoping he understood what you were getting at.

“Our impeccable Operations Leader has never led us astray, you’re correct,” he responded, his fangs glinting in the dim light. His hands found purchase on your hips while yours rested on the back of his neck, the distance slowly lessening between your bodies. As your lips began to touch his, you realized you owed Okonogi big time for her help.

#soshiro hoshina x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader fluff #soshiro hoshina fluff #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina #kaiju no 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #kaiju no. 8

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mschoiyuki · 8 months ago

Text

Silence

Trafalgar Law x f!reader

tw : angst. angst. angst. just angst. SFW

wc : 5.1k

a/n : Law is a foolish man. Interaction with the Straw Hat Pirates. I'm not good at writing summary, sorry ( •̯́ ₃ •̯̀) And I'm sorry for the grammar error. Actually I've been thinking so hard, should I make it a happy ending or not. But... Oh well...

It's best to read this while listening to :

❆ Taylor Swift - You're Losing Me (From The Vault)

❆ Bruno Mars - It Will Rain

❆ Paloma Faith - Only Love Can Hurt Like This

Enjoy ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

Law used to smile to you like that.

Law used to gave lingering touch to you like that.

Law used to sits next to you like that.

Your heart used to beats faster when you were with him.

But one day, everything suddenly change. You want to ask him why, but sadly you're just his crewmate. Law is your captain. Nothing special between you.

Even though he is your captain, you will give your life for him in a heartbeat. Maybe for Law it's just a natural things to do. Yes, another crewmates will also give their life to protect their captain. What's so special with you giving your life for him too? Nothing.

One day on midnight, it's your turn to on watch. You bump to Law on the hallway. There's some sweet perfume wafts from his body. You clench your fist, greeting him with a smile, "Captain." And off you goes, not wanting to hear any responses from him.

The next week when Polar Tang docked at an island for supplies. You bump at Law again at dawn. You can see a red mark on his neck. You just smile and greets him, "Morning, Captain." And you walk away.

You walk fast to bathroom, letting out whatever it is in your stomach. Slouching on the sink, gripping your arms tightly, you cry in silent. You don't want anybody to finds out.

From that day onwards, you made up your mind. Shoving that feelings deep down, sealing it on your pandora box, throw away the key far far away.

You act like a true crewmate, no feelings attached. Every mornings you wake up, you will perfecting your smile in front of the mirror. You train the muscle really hard, you must to make it as natural as possible. So no one knows it's fake. It has to be perfect.

No eye contact. You will answer Law question short and sharp. Giving your best smile without meeting his eyes.

No lingering touches. You will keep your distance an arm length from Law. As natural as possible. Even you try to eat first or later to not sit at his side.

Week turns to month.

Until one day, you witness it with your own eyes. When you leave the bar and want to go back to Polar Tang, you see him. Your beloved captain, Trafalgar Law, walks to a motel with a woman. His hand on the woman waist.

Your body trembling. Your head dizzy. You want to let out the beers you drank out from your throat, tears are threatening to falls. You clench your fist until it's turning white.

Sachi, Penguin and Bepo walks out from the bar, want to follows you back to the sub. But they halt their steps. Following the direction of your gaze.

They knew. Knew Law been to the bar. They knew there's always a girl at his side. They've confront him about this, but he told them to shut up, Law told them to not meddle his personal life.

You take a deep breath and blinks away the tears. And you start walking back to sub.

The man that you loved for years, breaks your heart to pieces. You even haven't confess to Law. Yet you already has the answer.

Then what's the point to stay at here? Why you have to torture yourself more than this? The answer is clear. You chuckle to yourself. Why are you so foolish. You're just a crewmate. Even if you're gone they won't make a fuss.

"Let's just wait for another chance." You thought to yourself.

That night, your heart losing it beats. It's not beating faster when you think about Law anymore. When you wake up with tears stain on your pillow, you lost your voice.

Strangely you're not panicking. Because you remember you read it on a book at Chopper's library, it can due to trauma or it can be from shock that your brain or heart produce.

The others panics. The trio runs to Law, telling him about you lost your voice. Law's face darkened hearing the news. Law immediately rushing to you.

"What happened?" Law try to reach your arm, but you take a step back. Avoiding his touch.

Don't touch me with those filthy hands. Those hands that touched other women.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, you smile and shrug. You write on the sketchbook "No need to panic." And you walks away from him resuming your duty.

Law just stand there, stunned. He remember this scenes long ago. Just like Cora-san when they first met. But are you really lost your voice? It can be you just faking it like Cora-san.

The trio know what Law's been thinking, Sachi breaks the silence "No, Captain. It's real."

Penguin chime in, "We already check on her, we try to prove it. It's real."

Bepo just start to panic and want to cry.

Law's minds been busy, thinking the way out to get your voice back.

But Law doesn't know about your plan.

You know Law's sleeping schedule, mostly Law will be at his office until morning. He rarely sleeps on his bed. Before dawn you slip something under his bedroom door.

While the other are busy getting ready to submerge, you walk out slowly without making any sounds to avoid bumping to other crews. Off to the fresh dawn air. Then you see a merchant ship docked at the harbor not that far, they starts to pulling their anchor.

You start to run faster to the merchant ship, after you reach them you write to them that you need a lift to another island to find your "husband". They agree to help you and they start to sail.

You look back again to the direction where the yellow sub docked behind a hill, the place that been home for you for years. The place full of happy and sad times. The place where your loved one is. The place where your heart used to beats full in love there.

You left your home. You left your family. You left the man you loved. You left your heart there.

When Law enter his bedroom, he step on something. He picks up a piece of paper and open it. His eyes widened and he start to search for you in every corner. Even your room is empty though your belongings still there. Law can't find you anywhere.

"Hakugan! How long have we been submerged?" Law slams the control room door, out of breath.

"Around six hours, Captain." Hakugan clench his heart, shock with the sudden burst and scared if he makes any mistake.

"Fuck! Turn back! Turn back to the island! NOW!" Law is furious now. How can he oversleep until this late? If only he didn’t stayed up late last night.

Sachi runs and stumbling at the door, "The letter... Captain.." Sachi tries to catch his breaths because he runs as fast as he can.

Penguin arrive behind Sachi, holding out the letter, "We found this."

Law snatch the letter and read it. It contains a simple words,

Thank you for the memories ꨄ︎

There's no doubt in it. This is your handwriting. The handwriting that Law always brush lovingly and memorize. The same handwriting on your letter that you left for him.

I loved you.

Law yell the order to Hakugan again, "Turn back to the island!" He walks back to his room, Sachi and Penguin follow behind him. When Law open his door, he rush in and slam the door right in front of Sachi and Penguin face. He doesn't need any lectures now.

He slides down from the door, sitting and read your letters again. The letter for him, I loved you. Loved. That means you don't love him anymore? Did he made a mistake? All of this is his fault? He stare hard on your letter, LOVED.

And suddenly a droplet of water stain the letter. Law choke on his own tears. He want to scream, he want to rips his hair off. But he can't. He punch the door in frustration, there a small yelp behind the door that goes unnoticed by him.

Six hours. Law prays that you're still at the island. He will take you back no matter what. If you ask him the reasons, he will tell you. He will tell you everything you want to knows. As long as it can takes you back to him. He will tell you his true feelings, his feelings toward you. He will do everything, anything. For you. He will make it right this time.

When Law arrive at the island he waste no time to cast his power. He use all of his energy to cast a big "ROOM" that envelopes the whole island. He close his eyes, he wish, he hope, he prays that you will appear in front of him. And he cast the "Shambles".

None.

Nothing.

You don't appear in front of him.

He tries, tries, and tries again.

Penguin grabs Law shoulder, "She's gone, Law. She's left. Let's go back inside."

That moment, Law feels like his heart being torn apart to pieces. It's all his fault he lose you. How could he be so foolish?

Why would he think being with another women will keep you safe? Why he didn't realize your pain? Why he didn't realize your changed attitude towards him? Your smile, your distance, no more lingering gazes and touches. Why he just realize it now?

It's too late now. He hurts you, he lose you too.

Penguin and Sachi follows Law to his bedroom. Law just sit at his bed with his hands in his face. Penguin and Sachi look at each other. Seeing their friend like this broke them too.

"Do you realize all the women you pick resembles her, Law?" Penguin break the silence.

Law still hide his face. "Their height, features, hair colors and lengths it's all resembles to her, you know." Sachi take a step forward.

"I didn't slept with all those women. I couldn't bring myself to slept with them. It never feels right, those women is not her. They can’t give me what I want likes her" Law shoulder is shaking.

Penguin kneel in front of Law, "Then why did you that, Law?"

"I just want her to be safe. You know I've got a lot of enemies. I'm so scared that I can't protect her. What if I lose her?" Law mutter, his voice is cracking.

Sachi sit next to Law, gripping his shoulder "You already lose her, Law."

Law can feel a sting in his heart, the pain almost unbearable. Being so broken Law poured all his heart out to his best friends.

"I shouldn't have let those women get close to me, let their stinky perfumes on my clothes. Gave me mark on my neck. She must've seen it. She must've knew."

"She saw you took a woman to motel, Law." Penguin sighs.

Law freeze and lift his face in horror, "What? When?"

"Night before she lost her voice." Sachi fills in.

"What? Then it's my fault she lost her voice?" Law whisper, his voice thick with sadness. Law can feel the anguish slowly engulf his heart and mind.

Sachi and Penguin wants to comfort him, saying it's not his fault. But the words just won't come out from their mouth. So they just stay there with him, watching Law stare blankly at his hand and crumble.

He will take you back, no matter what. He will travel around the New World again to find you. All he want is just for you to be safe. He prays to all the Gods for your safety, and to gives him your forgiveness.

For four months, Law lost his direction. He will only comes out from his office to give orders and then shut himself at his office. Sachi, Penguin and Bepo try their best to help Law. They will bring foods for him, dragging him to take a bath. If he force himself to sleep at his bed, he will just curls up clutching tightly on your letter praying that he will meet you on his dreams, smiling and holds him tight. He will gives you all his love for you. Hell, he even will says the three words to you. Even if it's just on his dreams. He drifts off to the dreamland with tears to meet you there.

Every times they reach an island, Law will cast the "ROOM", if there's no result he will order them to move to the next island immediately. Sachi and Penguin even beg to Law to stay for a couple days at the island to get some supplies and rest before resuming their journey. They understand Law impatience, but they still try to persuade him.

They think Law is just like a ghost now, losing half of his soul. The only thing that can cure him is you. They also prays every times they reach an island, hoping you are there. To end Law misery. They really want to tell him to give up, but they got tongue tied every times they see his face.

The first month after you left Law, you stay at the island for awhile to collect some berries for your next journey. Sometimes you will help the local doctor, or working at the diner as cook.

When the berries is more than enough, you will move to another island. Maybe you runs away from him, if you stay at the island longer you afraid you will meet him. Heh. There's no way he will looks for you. Who the hell are you? You're not that important to him. You're just a crewmate. Stop thinking so high and mighty about yourself, Y/N. You chuckles and shake your head in disbelief.

The second months, you meet the Sun God. The person you least expected to meet.

Luffy is so happy to meet you again after years. He wraps his arm around you, "Does this mean Torao also here with you? I want to meet him! I miss him!" Luffy chirps.

You just give him a sheepish smile, and you write, "No, I'm alone. I'm no longer Heart Pirates crew."

Luffy just stare and tilt his head, confuse why are you using that sketch book, and you explain to him that you lost your voice. Luffy then drags you to Sunny, "Chopper can help you! Let's go!"

You try to let out your voice, to tell him no but the voice is not coming out. You just let him take you to Sunny.

The other crews are so happy to meet you again. Nami, Robin and Chopper embrace you so tightly. They rush you to the infirmary to check your health. They are so shocks hearing Luffy's information that you lost your voice and no longer Law's crew. As you try to calm them down, "It's okay, it's not a big deal. I'm still strong even without my voice." You give them weak smile while show them the sketch book.

Nami and Robin knows there's more into it. They exchange glances and hugs you, Nami gives you pat on your head while Robin stroke your back. As if they know your real reason. As if they know your pain, your heartbreak. Chopper just hugging you too without knowing why.

For the first time after two months, you cry your heart out. Sobbing in their embrace. You want to let out all of your screams that you've been hold back for months. But you can't. There's no voice coming out. You cry until your throat is hoarse and dry, and fall asleep on their embrace.

The next morning you wake up with swollen eyes. Sanji rushing to get ice packs for you, "A beautiful lady like you mustn't cry, Y/N-chan. Tell me if there's something you crave, I will cook it for you in no time." And he kiss the back of your hand. Nami warned to the other crews to not mention Law's name. It's a forbidden word at Sunny, whoever utter that word must pay a huge amount of berries to her.

"Eeh. Whyyy?? Why can't I say Torao name? I want to ask her about how he's been doing." Luffy whine to Nami. Nami grab Luffy's collar and threaten him, "If you says his name one more time, you won't get allowance for a month. I dare you." Luffy zips his mouth tightly.

"Just stay with us, we won't say anything to him." Luffy sincerely say it while all of them gathering waiting for lunch. You can feels the tears are forming at the corner of your eyes, you mouthed "Thank you." and try to blinks away the tears.

Even though you're not sad anymore, the crews know you changed. You're not the same person as they met back ago when the alliance with Law's formed. Your smile is not the same, you're not the cheerful person like back then. What had happened between you and the Heart Pirates Captain?

One day when you, Nami and Robin enjoying Sanji's dessert at the deck, she can't help her curiosity so she cautiously ask you, "Did both of you broke up?" You put your spoon on your lips and write "We're not together. We're just crewmate and captain." Nami and Robin stunned with your words. Nami try to pushed again but Robin pinch her with her extra hand. They just don't understand why both of you are not together. They saw how Law gazed at you. How Law always following close behind you every where you goes, like a lost cat. But they didn't push further, maybe you're not ready to tell them yet.

Days by days pass peacefully, some part of you think maybe it's not that bad you get on board with Luffy. It's almost makes you forget about your pain. You can saves more berries, maybe someday you can settle down at some island and enjoying the domestics life.

Some days, you help Sanji with preparing foods or wash the dishes. Other times you watch Luffy antics. There's no days pass without fun on Sunny.

Until one day, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Brook and Franky make a fuss with the sea king monster. In such a chaotic mess, Nami hit their head until two lumps appear at each heads. And she yell at them, they just lowered their head until a soft breeze blows and Luffy raises his head to hold his precious straw hat, "Oh! Y/N is laughing!" The others snaps their head to you, seeing you laugh for the first time. The real and genuine laugh.

Nami and Robin jumps at you and hug you. The others also laugh, Sanji's heart eyes appear at the sight, and there's a slight tinted blush at Zoro face, and he smile. Even though they can't hear your sweet voice, at least you're laughing now. They just hope you will turns to the old you.

They never thought of you as a guest at Sunny, they treat you like their nakama. When you're down, they will try to cheer you up. Zoro sometimes offer you to clean your katana, or even training together. The girls watching Zoro's behavior and it's so strange for him to interact with someone on his accord.

Nami pulls him and threaten him, "What're you doing? What's your intention, Zoro?"

He deadpanned on Nami, "Nothing, just offer her some companion?".

Nami point her finger, "If your intention is not clear, or you just need someone to warm your bed you better back off."

Zoro takes a step closer and gives Nami a stern look, "I'm. Not." Zoro growls. Maybe he just pitied you, or maybe he just want to take care of you, or maybe he just want to protect you. He doesn't know himself why.

As months goes by, you're getting a little bit cheerful like the old days. And you even gets closer to the crews.

When Luffy see an island holding a festival he decide to dock. Before Luffy and Chopper can scurry off to the town, Nami hold them and tell Luffy to bring one or two crews with him. To watch over him to not cause any ruckus.

Zoro voluntary says he will go with Luffy making the others screech. Nami turns to you "Y/N, can you please go with them? Me and Robin will go later and catch up with you guys." You nods and go to change your outfit. Wearing white shirt with a short and sandals. You run off to Luffy and the others whose been excited to enjoy the festival, “Let’s go!!” Nami shouts from the back, “Zoro!! Please don’t get lost! I’m counting on you, Y/N! Have fun!!” Zoro just rolls his eye at Nami and you giggle while wrapping your hand to his arm. Zoro jolt at your sudden touch and eyeing you, you mouthed “So you don’t get lost.” You grin and lead the way. Zoro just huff and shake his head, hiding the subtle smile.

Tagging along with Luffy that want to eats all of the foods on every stalls, and Chopper want to try all the attractions makes your heart full. “Look! That roller coaster is so cool! Let’s try it!” Chopper shouts and excitedly point at it. “I’m gonna pass on this one. To tired. I will wait for you guys down here.” Zoro already sits on the bench and cross his arms.

You feel bad leaving him behind and want to stay too, but Zoro just shoo you to go with them, “Just go, it’s okay. It won’t take that long.”

Then you go with Luffy and Chopper to enjoy the roller coaster. But when you guys come back down, all of you are drenched. You guys just laugh while Zoro dumbfounded looking at you guys. Zoro put his cloak on your shoulders, “Your shirt become a see-through.” As he looks away from your body. Your face flushed and mouthed “Thanks.”

As you guys walking back to Sunny with hands full with foods, there’s two people looking at you from afar with their jaws dropping. They can’t believe their own eyes. They exchange glances to make sure it is really you.

“Should we call Captain?” Sachi already takes out the mini den den mushi.

“Ugh.. Wait! But look at her! She’s laughing! She’s happy, Sachi!” Penguin grab Sachi hand.

“Guys! It’s-!” Bepo suddenly appears and shout but Sachi and Penguin quickly shuts his mouth.

“Sshh!!!” They gesture in unison.

“Should we call Captain??” Sachi press again.

Penguin is still in agony. “Peng! Captain needs her!” Sachi getting impatient now because he almost lost you on the crowds.

"Fine!! Fine! Call him." Penguin surrender, still unsure if this is the right things or not. Because he also knows you are suffering from Law.

When the news reach Law, he immediately teleport to the shore. He use his power to teleports here and there, to find the Sunny.

And he sees you, draped in Zoro's cloak, your hand grabs on his arm. And you laugh. You laugh with them. The smiles that he missed so much, the smiles that you used to gave to him. You looks... Beautiful. You looks... Happy... Are you with Zoro now? He can feels his heart clench. He will finds out himself.

This time, he will make it right.

Suddenly you see a blue orbs envelopes all of you. You freeze, gripping Zoro's arm. You know damn well this blue orbs. And he appears in front of you. The man that you loved with all of your heart. He looks like a mess. His eye bags getting more darker.

Law so relieve when he see you this close. Finally... He can take you back with him, he moves his hand to reach you but Zoro take a step in front of you and stand between you and Law.

"Move, Zoro-ya." Law stand tall against Zoro.

But Zoro doesn't move an inch, and you still clutching on Zoro hiding behind him. When Luffy and Chopper see Law, they excitedly shouts, "OOH! TORAOO!!" But Zoro prevent them to get close to Law.

"What do you want, Torao?" Zoro still in his defensive stance.

"I don't have any business with you. I'm here for Y/N." Law still looking at you. "Let's talk, Y/N. Please." He's pleading now, you never hear his voice this soft. You still consider should you talk to him? Part of you don't want to talk to him, you don't want to see his face. But maybe this is the time...

You come out from behind Zoro and you nod. You point to a big stone under the shade and you gesture to him to follow you there. You write to Luffy, "I'll be back."

You and Law walk to the shade, you lean on the stone and write, "What do you want?" You shove it to him, but you didn't look at him at all.

Law furrow his eyebrows. It hurts. "How you've been, Y/N?" He reach for your face but you avoid it. It hurts so bad. He clench his fist and take it back to his side. "Please, look at me, Y/N." His voice cracking.

You freeze and slowly turn your head to meet his gaze. There they are, the grey eyes that you used to loved is filled with tears now. But it makes you furious and without you realizing it you hit his chest with your both fist. Law lets you hit him, if it can makes you feel better then it doesn't matter. If it can makes you back to his side, then it's fine. He will take it all, your furious, your hits. Everything.

Your head hung low while you still hitting him for God knows for how long. But Law realize you've been crying. He grabs your wrists, "Look at me, Y/N. Please." You lift your head, still sobbing. Law's eyes quiver with the sight, he pulls you right to his chest. He hug your trembling body tightly, he will not let you go.

"Please come back, Y/N" Law whisper beside your ear.

You snap your eyes open realize this is not right. You shove Law then you wipe your tears with your sleeves and write in a quick pace, "I'm not coming back. You should go back."

"Y/N, don't do this. Please come back to me." Law reach out his hand for you to take it, he looks so sorrowful. You shakes your head furiously. Law take a step toward you still reaching out his hand, "Why are you doing this, Y/N? If you love me then just come back to me." He slowly walking to you.

"I'm not! I don't love you anymore!" You write then tear the sheet and you throw it to Law. Then you write another one and throw it again. He picks it up and read it “I hate you.” Law’s eyes widened and he clutch the sheet, “Lies. You’re lying.” He stands in front of you.

“I’m not lying.” You look straight into his eyes.

“I don’t love you. And I’m not going back. Leave. Go back, Captain. I’m just one of your crew-mate, you don’t have to waste your times for me.” You starts to walk away from him.

Law grabs your wrist and turns you to face him, “I love you. I love you, Y/N. Please come back to me.” He’s crying. Trafalgar Law is crying in front of you.

You try so hard to hold back your tears. You tell yourself, don’t cry, not now. You shakes your head and yank your wrist, “It’s too late. Goodbye, Law. Take care.” You leave Law standing there in silence.

You walks back to Sunny without looking back at the man you loved. You thought you’ll be strong to leave him again for the second times, but why these tears just won’t stop? As you reach Sunny you quickly wipe your tears.

“Can we sail out now, Luffy? Please?” You write to Luffy. Luffy just nods and tells Nami to set off.

You storms to your shared bedroom and lock the door. You throw yourself to your bed and cry your heart out, screaming to the pillow. The crews freeze when they heard your wailing. When they wish they can hear your voice again, they don’t mean it like this. Not your voice when you’re in pain. They just stand at the deck looking at each other, they can feel your pain. But they can't do anything to erase your pain.

Law walks back to Polar Tang in tears with your sketch sheets in his hand, it feels like he reminisces the old days. The days he cried when Cora-san died. You left him too. If only he could be more honest with you. If only he didn’t act like a jerk. If only he didn’t hurt you. None of these will happen. If only…

When the crews see Law coming back alone they don’t utters a single words to him. He just walks to his bedroom in silence, only the trio follows Law. Law slumps to his bed, covering his eyes with his arm, the other hand still holding on your sketch sheets tightly at his chest. Penguin being the brave one to break the silence, “Is she?” Law answers short, “No.”

Sachi continue, “Do you tell her everything?”

“It’s too late. She hates me. She doesn’t love me anymore. She left me.” Law curls up holding your sheets tightly.

Law can't get you return to his side again. He can't have your heart forever. He can't see you anymore. He can't hear your sweet voice anymore. At least he want to hear your voice before you go.

Law doesn't know you get your voice back again.

Law summon "ROOM", the blue orb surrounds him and he cast "SILENCE".

For the first time Sachi, Penguin and Bepo see their Captain crying in despair. They just hope their captain can get on his feet again.

It's too late now...

Is it too late now?

This is the end...

Is this the end?

Part 2

dividers by : @saradika-graphics

#trafalgar law #law x reader #law x you #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d water law #one piece law

344 notes · View notes

tcfactory · 10 months ago

Text

A smile for the master

Okay, what if white lotus Luo Binghe and OG Shen Qingqiu body swap.

The fake cultivation manual does make Luo Binghe qi deviate. Relatively early too, he's still in his white lotus phase. This qi deviation just coincides with one of Shen Qingqiu's many, many deviations and, by some freak twist of luck, swaps their bodies.

The only people who know about this are Yue Qingyuan, Mu Qingfang and the people directly involved, because they can't let word get out about the body swap. Unlike all the regular shenanigans (amnesia, de-aging, animal transformations, etc.) Mu Qingfang has no idea how to approach fixing this. He can't even tell if it is possible to fix it or not. This is such a one-in-a-million thing that there's no precedent.

So for the time being Luo Binghe in Shen Qingqiu's body will be confined to the bamboo house, under some supervision, with the excuse that Shen Qingqiu is still under danger of another qi deviation. And Shen Qingqiu gets to go out and pretend to be Binghe.

He's meant to move into the bamboo house to 'assist his shizun in his recovery' (yeah, right, like anyone would believe that), but the first thing he does once everyone leaves them alone that evening is grab a few things in a qiankun pouch and prepares to leave.

"Where is shizun going?"

"Wipe that pathetic look off my face! I'm sleeping in the woodshed."

"But shizun doesn't have to! This disciple will sleep in the side room, I-"

"I don't care where you sleep in my house. But I'm not sleeping under the same roof as a man, and you currently qualify as such."

It's such a strange thing to say that it sticks with Binghe - does his shizun genuinely feel safer in the woodshed than in the same house with his own body??? - but he is still disoriented and in so much pain that he doesn't have it in him to argue. Mu-shishu said it was not unusual for a severe qi deviation to cause pain, but he hopes it will fade quickly.

The pain doesn't fade by morning. It stays a persistent, sharp ache in his joints that seems to sap the strength from his limbs. Binghe thinks he can cheer himself up by cooking breakfast in shizun's kitchen, but his hands shake and his fingers refuse to bend right. He still scrapes together two servings of palatable congee, which gets him an unreadable look from his returning shizun. You'd think Binghe would be able to read the man's expressions on his own face better, but all he can say for certain is that his face has never made that expression before.

"Shizun, how do you stop the shaking?" Binghe asks tentatively. Shen Qingqiu made tea and brought over a few dry biscuits that looked completely unappetizing to Binghe. He planned to pointedly ignore them in favor of his own, much better food, except he has eaten two spoonfuls of congee and he's suddenly feeling sick. Something on his face must be showing because Shen Qingqiu snatches his bowl away and pushes the biscuits to him instead.

"Eat one, slowly, with the tea. It will help you keep the food down." In Luo Binghe's body his shizun has no problem eating both portions while Binghe nibbles on the biscuit. It's bitter from the herbs, but it does help. "Haven't you learned how to channel qi to stabilize your body? Useless little beast." After a moment his eyes grow wide and he hastily holds up a hand. "Don't try it with my body! The last thing we need is for you to have another qi deviation."

"Even this useless one knows how to direct and circulate his qi, shizun." Binghe tries to pout - it has never worked on his shizun, but maybe he will be more receptive of such tactics when it's his own face - but finds that the muscles of his face are not working as they should.

"Not with my meridians you don't. I thought even the lowliest of outer disciples have heard by now that my cultivation base is ruined." He squints up at Binghe and his glare is no less formidable on a different face. "Little beast. What are you trying to do with my face?"

Binghe has, in fact, reached up and is trying to feel out why he can't move part of his face as he should. "This... is there a scar here?" He's not familiar enough with scars to be sure, but he can feel the slightly different texture of the skin with his fingers as it curves around his cheek and jaw. Strange, he's sure he would have noticed before if his shizun had such a big scar on his face.

Shen Qingqiu slaps his hand away.

"A mule kicked me in the face when I was a child. They put an ointment on it at the time, so it healed well enough that it's no longer visible."

Not visible, but still present. Later, after Shen Qingqiu leaves for Luo Binghe's classes, he stands in front of the bronze mirror to test the range of his expressions and suddenly understands why Shen Qingqiu prefers to hide the lower half of his face behind a fan. The scar tissue tugs on the muscles of his face and makes the way one corner of his mouth moves rather ghastly.

It's not the only scar he has. It takes Binghe until the afternoon to work up the courage to take a bath and he can't help to look at his shizun's body then. The history written into the man's skin is distressing to say the least. Cuts and whip marks, all etched in deep, and burns, so many burns. The most horrifying is on one of his thighs, the muscle and skin deformed where it was burned deep; Binghe has seen kitchen accidents before and this has the look of boiling oil, but it's position and size both speak of intentionality. He can't even imagine what shizun has done to be injured there, so close to an intimate area.

And the crowning jewel of all scars, the one that raises the most questions in Binghe's mind, is the slave brand. Qiu, it reads on the left side of his chest, still clearly legible despite obvious signs that someone tried to ruin it with deep cuts; the character just ate even deeper into the flesh to retain its shape.

He's standing in front of the bronze mirror, staring numbly at the brand while the water goes cold next to him, only snapping out of his stupor when the front door slams open, then closed, then his shizun calls for him. "In here, shizun!"

Shen Qingqiu is in a good mood - the body he's in is strong and healthy, despite everything, and unlike that dolt of a little beast, he knows exactly how to get out of chores - so he doesn't immediately snap at Binghe when he finds him inspecting his body. "It would have been too much of a blessing to expect you to not undress and poke at my flesh the moment you were left alone."

"I just wanted a bath." The face he currently wears doesn't lend itself to his usual tactics, so he simply... doesn't try. It makes him much more tolerable in Shen Qingqiu's eyes. "Begging shizun's forgiveness, I expected him to take longer with this disciple's daily chores."

"Unlike you, I don't have the personality of a doormat. I've done the chores for you and Yingying and then tricked one of your shixiongs into insulting Ming Fan, so he got saddled with the rest." He says it like it's the easiest thing in the world and there's a disapproving edge to it. See, little beast? His eyes say. Why don't you do it this way, it's so easy.

"I don't know what shizun expects from me," Binghe finally says, his frustrations overflowing. "I want nothing more than to cultivate in peace! I used every trick I have ever learned to make the bullies go away, but it only made things worse!" He claws at the slave mark, as if he could rip it from the skin and hand it to Shen Qingqiu. "I thought shizun to be a rich master who would not understand, but shizun has come from a background as lowly as this one's! Shizun should understand! Shizun should-!"

"Shut up. You don't know anything about me." There is no real anger in those words, but Binghe immediately shuts up. Shen Qingqiu regards him with something calculating, until he finally comes to a decision of sorts. He closes his eyes, schools his features and when he opens them again the picture of innocence looks up at Binghe, a harmless white sheep who could do no harm.

It's almost as good as when Binghe does it.

"What did you say your mother's job was?" The moment is gone and Shen Qingqiu arranges his features back into something more comfortable and Binghe, still reeling, answers on autopilot.

"This one's elderly mother was a lowly washerwoman."

"An elderly woman, of a low, but stable position, with no ambitions left in life and no power to protect her son." Shen Qingqiu exhales slowly. "She taught you to smile, hasn't she? To be good and docile to avoid trouble."

"Yes!" Finally, it feels like they are going somewhere, they have found common ground. "My mother taught me that no matter what grief or grudge settles in my heart, I should always-"

"Have a smile for the master," Shen Qingqiu finishes for him. He looks annoyed, but not angry - at least not at Binghe. "Go take that bath." He reheats the water with the touch of his hand and a careful application of qi. "This master has essays to grade."

The hot water is a blessing, but Binghe still hurries to get clean and get dressed again. Shizun, true to his word, is grading essays at the table when Binghe returns. Binghe fidgets with nothing to do while his shizun works, so eventually Shen Qingqiu chases him off to make tea so he can work in peace.

Binghe is just returning when the sect leader arrives. "Qingqiu-shidi, Luo-shizi. I hope everything is going all right so far?"

"Good timing," Shen Qingqiu looks up from the essays with a wolfish expression that makes Binghe's face look almost scary. "Qi-ge, think fast: smile for the master-"

"-Snarl for the wolves-" Yue Qingyuan answers without thinking, something sharp and dark glinting in his usually soft eyes. This minute slip in his mask scares Binghe more than the worst of his shizun's temper.

"-knife for the rivals." Unexpectedly, Shang Qinghua pops his head out from behind the wide bulk of the sect leader. "Why are we reciting the Urchins' Laws?"

Shen Qingqiu narrows his eyes at his shidi. "Where this one grew up we said rocks for the rivals, but the sentiment is the same." He gestures for Binghe, who stands frozen in Shen Qingqiu's body, to serve the tea. "What is Shang-shidi doing here?"

"I might have, ah. Overheard? Overheard the situation and I might know an herb that can remedy it. Liu Qingge is already on his way to get it, so it's only a matter of days!" He rubs the back of his neck. "I just wanted to be here when zhangmen-shixiong tells shixiong the good news."

"That's acceptable." Shen Qingqiu takes a sip from his tea, then pushes the essays away in favor of an empty sheet. "Then Shang-shidi can stay and help us remedy a serious shortcoming in disciple Luo's education. It would seem he only learned to smile and never to snarl, leaving him with the appearance of an unfortunately spineless disposition."

"I see." All three adults look at Luo Binghe with pity, even the one currently wearing his body. He takes a big gulp of his tea to get away from their staring and almost chokes from the overwhelming bitter taste.

"It's fine, shizi! I think there are no better people to teach disciple Luo these lessons, so he will learn them in no time!" Shang Qinghua hurries to reassure him.

"That's not- thanking shishu for his encouraging words! It's just this tea is unexpectedly bitter."

The lords all look puzzled. "Bitter? Has Shen-shidi acquired a new blend?"

"As if you could tell," Shen Qingqiu huffs dismissively and takes another sip of his tea. "I don't taste anything wrong with it."

They all turn to Shang Qinghua, who takes a sip and immediately makes a noise of disgust.

"It's been severely over-steeped," he declares, pushing the cup away.

"Interesting." Shen Qingqiu drinks the rest of his tea and shakes his head. "Disciple Luo can't taste bitterness, so he doesn't know when he over steeps the tea."

"This one can taste bitterness, shizun! Mu-shishu's cold medicine-"

"-doesn't count. Even zhangmen-shixiong can tell it's bitter and he has almost completely lost his sense of taste when we were children."

The sect leader has a soft, awkward look on his face and Shang Qinghua stifles a laugh behind his sleeve. "Can confirm! Yue-shixiong once drank an entire undiluted bottle of chili oil on a bet when we were disciples. Luo-shizi is in good company."

Good company indeed. It's strange and a little frightening to see the three untouchable immortal masters acting so human, but Binghe rubs the scar on his face and thinks of masks. The same way Binghe puts on the mask of a meek little lamb every morning, the peak lords put on their own masks each day.

In the fifteen days it takes for Liu-shishu to get the herbs and return, they teach Binghe how to navigate the power plays of the sect in the way only those not born into power know:

A smile for the master (be pleasant and meek and uninteresting in the face of those who can hurt you without consequence, because it's boring to bully docile and uninteresting servants. Bide your time and only plot where they can't see it).

Yue Qingyuan smiles, because he has risen above the rest. Nobody would dare to trample him, so he can wear a smile if he wants; it makes him more approachable. Luo Binghe smiles at him and the sect leader winks back; this comes the easiest to him.

A snarl for the wolves (do not let your peers trample you. You are roughly of equal standing and power, so fight for what you deserve. If someone with only slightly higher standing tries to strike against you and you can get away with it, bite the hand that struck you, so they would think twice before they try again).

Shen Qingqiu was born a wolf and will likely die one, too broken and battered to become a prized, pampered hound. He snarls at the world and wants Binghe to snarl back at him, to show him that he has the determination to make it through. (Urchins who don't learn to bare their teeth when they should all die, trampled in the dirt, and Binghe suspects that his shizun has seen it happen enough times that he has hardened his heart against it.) It comes frighteningly easy, once he tries, and he makes sure to restrain himself so he doesn't become a mirror of his bitter shizun.

A knife for the rivals (be ruthless and deadly to the outsiders who come to harm you and yours. Set aside internal strife in the face of outside threat and sharpen your fangs together; the only good enemy is a dead one).

Binghe doesn't know what to think of Shang Qinghua at first. The An Ding lord has his own flavor of pathetic (it's not quite the same as smiling, he thinks), but Binghe is not a fool. If the sect leader is the smile and his shizun the snarl, then Shang Qinghua is the knife, and his cultivated helplessness is the perfect disguise for his sharp edge.

Out of all three of them, he decides that Shang Qinghua scares him the most.

The day after they are switched back Luo Binghe returns to the bamboo house to report to his shizun.

"So early today, little beast." Shen Qingqiu doesn't look up from the novel he's reading, sprawled carelessly over the couch. Binghe knows that this crack in his shizun's peerless facade is only there for him to see because he has lived in his body for two weeks and knows exactly how much agony he is in day in day out (Binghe did some much less dignified sprawling when he was wearing that body, that's for sure), but it still makes him feel honored, in a way. He's in on a secret none of the other disciples are and it makes him feel... special.

"Ming-shixiong had an unfortunate incident with a hive of wasps and forgot to assign his shidis extra chores."

Shen Qingqiu glances at him over the edge of his book. "Where in the hells have you found wasps this time of the year?"

"I could not say. Shizun will have to ask Shang-shishu."

The set of Shen Qingqiu's mouth shifts. It's not a smile, but it's as close as the man gets and Luo Binghe's heart soars when he sees it. His shizun stands with mesmerizing feline grace and plucks a manual off from his shelf. "Catch." Binghe scrambles to catch the manual, his eyes going wide when he recognizes his shizun's calligraphy. The book is bound in an old cover to make it look used, but the pages and the contents are all brand new. "This master has noticed that disciple Luo's current manual is unsuitable for his cultivation. This one will be a better fit."

"Thank you, shizun!" He turns to walk into the side room, planning to pretend that he belongs here ('sometimes if you are confident enough, you can make others think that you belong somewhere you have no business being', Shang Qinghua said), but he stops dead when his shizun calls after him.

"Where do you think you are going, little beast?"

"To my room, shizun." He brazenly meets Shen Qingqiu's narrowed eyes and carefully gauges the man's mood. He's not angry yet. "This disciple has no place in the dorms, but he got to thinking: wouldn't it reflect badly on our peak and our peak lord if word got out that one of the Qing Jing disciples sleeps in the woodshed? This one is not a man, so he thought shizun would have no opposition against him taking the unused side room in exchange for performing extra chores around the house."

Shen Qingqiu approaches him with an aura like a fierce storm, but Luo Binghe stands his ground. The man wanted him to snarl back; it was time to test the practice of that theory.

"Luo Binghe has done a lot of thinking in the day since we last met."

"Of course. This disciple had years of thoughtlessness to make up for."

Shen Qingqiu exhales sharply; a silent laugh. "Luo Binghe might not be a man yet, but he will grow up to be one. Why should I tolerate his presence?"

"This one might become a man, but only if shizun can't mold him into something better."

"Insolent little beast!" He expects the smack with the fan. It smarts like always and it's likely going to leave a bruise. He doesn't expect the hand on his head, not petting, but... acknowledging. "Go to your room."

Binghe can't restrain the smile that spreads over his face. It earns him another smack, lighter this time, but it's worth it. He sets the new manual down on the bed and starts brewing tea for his shizun, lighting a timer talisman so he doesn't seep the leaves too long.

It took him to walk a mile in his shizun's boots in the most convoluted way possible, but he has finally done it: he found common ground with his master. It could only get better from now.

#svsss #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #luo binghe #tc writes #tbf lbh won't grow up to be a 'man' he will grow up to be a demon #it's debatable if that's better or worse

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