#probably just very unlucky with my rolls today

[the-outlande-r]

I FUCKING DIED 10 SECONDS INTO THE GAME???? BECAUSE I TURNED THE FUCKING LIGHT ON???????

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Does the End Justify the Means?

CX-2 (Clone Assassin) x Reader

Summary- CX-2 never planned on forming a relationship, but once he did he had to protect it. Even if it meant killing hundreds to keep you away from Hemlock.

A/N- SPOILERS FOR THE BAD BATCH FINALE. I feel like people forget that deep down, CX-2 is still a clone being forced to serve the Empire. Maybe I'm delusional though!!! MENTIONS OF BURNS AND TORTURE!!

Word Count- 5,253

"You know, CX-2. There was once a time where I considered scrapping you. The very cloning program that made you..." Hemlock started. "You were hard to control. My methods had little effect on you. Considering you had little to live for, well that didn't help."

CX-2 stood, arms crossed behind his back. He listened intently, staring at the grey border of the wall.

"You were too, hmm. Rebellious should I say?" He walked slow circles around CX-2, studying him. "That was until I found your little secret out." Hemlock laughed at his own wit. "Who knew a medic trainee would have an Assassin Clone falling so hard!" He seemed to think the situation was hilarious.

Silent, CX-2 contemplated killing Hemlock where he stood. It wasn't possible though, he was smarter than that. He probably had a weapon on his beloved as they spoke. Perhaps Scorch was with her now...

He didn't want to think about it, so he didn't. Opting to stare back at the wall again.

"Truly, I created you better than that. The problem with you clones is your loyalty. It would typically disgust me. Though, unlucky for you, this all plays out in my favor." CX-2 swallowed hard at his words.

There were not many things that scared CX-2, but the thought of Hemlock hurting you consumed him. Striking him with a never ending fear.

"You will bring me Omega. Unless, you want an accident to happen. That would be tragic, wouldn't it?" The man asked, taunting the clone. All while fiddling with his gloved hand.

For the first time in many minutes, CX-2 spoke. "I will retrieve the girl."

"Good, I do not doubt your abilities." Hemlock stepped closer, right in The Assassins face. "Dire consequences are at stake..."

CX-2 made sure his next stop was Pabu.

CX-2 had no intentions of forming any friendships, especially not a relationship. You, however, came natural to him. In one of Hemlock's attempts to have complete control over CX-2, a burn was implemented on his waist. He remembers the day vividly, as it was the first time he'd met you.

You were only on Tantiss because of your mother. She worked for the Empire as a medic, a famous doctor of some sort. While you never had the knack for the medical field, you enjoyed helping people. It was in your blood after all.

CX-2 was taken to a special room for clones of high status. You were there by sheer accident. A mishap guided you to his side.

"Uhm, hello sir." You introduced yourself. "I'll be your medic today. What's your name?" You asked, a little nervous to be assessing a clone by yourself. He wore black armor, head still covered. You'd never seen that style before, maybe he was new?

CX-2 just stared up at you, a hard gaze. Out of fear, you started to breathe a little heavier. He could have killed you there and no one would have batted an eye.

"Sir, is something the matter?" You pressed on, trying to mask yourself with professionalism.

He continued to stare, eventually pointing at the chart In your hands.

"Of course, uh. CT-4340?"

CX-2 didn't say a word, just tilted his head. You looked at him with doe eyes. "Are you CT-4340?" you hesitated.

"My code is CX-2." He commanded out, a modulated voice appearing.

You almost jumped at the sound. "I uh, seem to have the wrong chart. I am so sorry, I should get a higher official-"

Under his helmet, CX-2 resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His shoulder dropped, annoyed. This caused his side to jolt. The pain of the burn on him was strong, but he withheld any reaction.

You, on the other hand, seemed to notice the very small twitch his waist gave out. "Where are you hurt?" You asked, the words now flowing with a motive in mind.

CX-2 instinctively started unbuckling his chest piece. You flushed slightly, ashamed you couldn't be more serious in the situation. "Do you need help?" His head rose quickly, falling after looking at you for a second. He didn't respond, just continued to take his upper armor off.

Guess not...

The second you saw his skin, you suppressed a gasp. It looked gruesome, like something had repeatedly been burning him. With a deep breath, you shoved down any lasting fear.

Getting to work, you prepared bacta and bandages.

He was still, almost too still. You'd seen plenty of procedures and medics fixing up clones. There had been wincing, complaining, and fidgeting on lesser injuries. You would have expected tears and need of an anesthetic for any other man. But he was still...

You prayed you didn't hurt him more than he already was. You knew your hands were clumsy with inexperience. If you did, he made no effort to tell you nor pull away.

From then on you saw each other more and more. While your mother made sure you got plenty of experience working on clones, you were extremely busy. Never getting a second to actually talk to CX-2. A particular encounter with a clone in the hangar would change this.

You were helping a trooper with a broken arm- Simply wrapping it to prevent further injury. You crouched down, examining the break.

CX-2 was just passing by, heading to see what his next mission was. He barely took note that a soldier under his command broke an arm. Why would he? Clones die everyday, including ones under CX-2.

He did however take note of you. He recognized you immediately. He surprised himself, why would he care about some medic? He'd never remembered the ones that had worked on him in the past.

At this, he stared at you. He took in your silhouette, something deep down told him to bask in your every feature. So, he did.

Of course you felt the beaming eyes of CX-2. It made you nervous. Was there something on your face? Did you make him mad? It distracted you.

"Ow!" The clone exclaimed in pain, face screwing. He yanked his arm up. It was an accident, you were sure. A response to the pain you caused unintentionally. CX-2 didn't seem to think this when he saw the clone raise his arm to hit you.

It all happened so fast, you didn't have time to lean back or even register what was happening. The next thing you knew was that the unidentified clone was on his back. CX-2 stood over him, a vibroblade at his neck and foot on his chest.

Falling onto your butt, you gasped and regained some sense. "CX-2...."

He slowly turned around to face you. The two of you looked at each other. His hand still expertly rested centimeters from killing the clone.

Adrenaline pumping, you spoke. "it's okay. It was an accident."

He pushed the clone back with his foot, hand raising. With the vibroblade still wielded, he stormed to you. Your heart pumped viciously, though not in fear. If he was going to really hurt you, he would have let the clone hit you.

No, your heart thumped in your ears in anticipation.

He grabbed you by the forearm with his free hand, careful of the blade. He yanked you up, off of your position on the cold floor.

You briefly noticed eyes around the hangar now in your direction. You grew nervous, only at their judgmental looks.

The quickness of it all made your head spin. You stepped out, trying not to fall. His hand still gripped your arm, he stood unmoving. He let you catch your balance, just watching you.

"Excuse me, what is going on here?" A vice admiral questioned, appearing from your left.

CX-2's modulated voice said your name. It was harsh and cold, but you somehow knew it wasn't directed at you. "She is my medic."

"And? What gives you the right to attack a clone for no reason?" The admiral demanded.

CX-2 didn't like being questioned. Before you could get a single word in, CX-2 pulled you with him as he turned to leave the hangar.

"Wha-" You decided not to protest, the man was on some kind of mission. One he had made for himself the second he saw a threat to you.

He guided you two through the complex halls and levels of the lab. You were beyond lost, but he seemed to know where he was going. After a few minutes of paced walking, you stopped him.

"CX-2, where are we going? I don't want to risk getting reprimanded by the admiral." You were cautious, the smallest of complaints could get you reassigned. Tantiss was not for the faint of heart.

"You won't." He would make sure of that. He continued to walk, this time a little slower.

Finally, you found some familiarity in the halls. You noticed he was leading you to the very room you met in. The examining room for special operatives.

He pulled you into the room, making sure the door shut behind him.

"Examine me." He demanded.

You were dumbfounded, "Excuse me?"

CX-2 actually rolled his eyes this time, even when you couldn't see them. In response to your confusion, he removed his left arm's armor.

A gash that went from the top of his shoulder to before his elbow was present. "CX-2..." Your sadden voice spoke.

You didn't actually have clearance to be in that room, nor the supplies. But you worked nevertheless.

"Please, sit." You asked. He followed your instructions immediately, sitting up on the exam bed.

Just as the day you met, you retrieved bacta and med patches. You coated the wound in extra bacta, then prepared the gauze wrap.

"So," You held his arm up gently, starting to wrap it. "How did you get this? Was it your latest mission?" Your hands carefully worked, moving under his arm.

"No." Was all you heard.

"Oh, how did it happen?" You asked, trying to make conversation.

His skin twitched as a subconscious response when you smoothed over it.

"Better if you don't know." He kept his eyes on the wall ahead of him. "Sorry I asked..." You really were. He said nothing.

After a few more moments, you made sure the wrap was steady in place. "I think you're done!" You smiled at him. He dropped his arm at his side.

After, he promptly nodded, but gave little indication on what to do next.

You looked around, feeling a little awkward.

"So... What division are you from?" You tried to ease the tension.

"Project Assassin." He said, being short.

"I haven't heard of that, wha-" He inturpted you. "Tell me about you."

You blinked. You'd only seen this man a dozen times, many of those in passing. Even so, a shot of nerves flowed in you each time. There was something special about him. It was like your heart knew something your brain didn't. You weren't a child though, you knew 'love' was something of fairy tales. That there must be a perfectly rational reason you were feeling this way around him.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

Though, if that were true, why did you sit up next to him and tell him everything?

From that day on, the only medic he allowed to work on him was you. The number of visits varied, depending on how evil Hemlock was feeling. CX-2 tried to hide the backstories from you as much as possible, sometimes even ignoring your questions.

Though, late at night, when he'd sneak into your room, he'd tell you the truth. At first he would listen. Anything you'd tell him, you had his full attention. Then, right before you fell asleep, he'd whisper his secrets.

He'd whisper them to the only person he ever trusted, you. Then, it was your turn to listen.

You cried for him, the pains he had went through. He was the perfect clone in your eyes. The only problem was how stubborn he was, no matter how hard Hemlock tried- you were still the only one who could persuade him.

Despite his grunts of protest, you'd just hold CX-2 some nights. Using your fingers to rake through his hair, cradling his head. You tried you best to give him the comfort he had never experienced before.

Everything was going so well. You would continue your training, he would continue his missions, and at night, you would talk and he would listen. You would spoil him with affections under the nights bask.

Of course, all good things must come to an end.

The day Hemlock found out about you was the worst day of CX-2's life.

CX-2 was called in for a meeting about his next mission, something he was used to. He only received orders from the highest of officials, so seeing Hemlock or Scorch was common.

"I have... a special mission of some sort. One I cannot risk incompletion of." Hemlock began.

CX-2 stood upright, ready for instructions.

"Now, despite what we have tried to instill into you- I do not want you to listen to any other orders. I think this particular mission requires your mindset." His words didn't effect CX-2, he'd heard worse.

"One of your fellow operative has been captured. Alive. I will not accept him risking our organization."

"My orders?" CX-2 asked.

"Find and neutralize him." CX-2 nodded at his words.

"You have 48 hours to kill him." Hemlock walked up to CX-2, arms folded behind his back. "If you fail, that...medic... you are so fond of? She will reap the consequences of what you sow."

It was impossible to cover up the way CX-2 breath hitched. If he didn't have a helmet on, Hemlock would see his eyebrows scrunch in anger.

"Yes, that's right. I know about her." Hemlock said, his voice mocking. "Oh, don't fret my little assassin. She will remain unharmed, that is... unless you fail your duty..."

"I trust you will locate him and rid the republic of any information?" Hemlock taunted.

"Yes sir."

How? How did Hemlock find out about you? He was so careful... He immediately headed to your quarters. Damned everyone else, he pushed through crowds and odd stares.

He banged on the door, fist closed. If you hadn't opened in the next 10 seconds, he'd shoot the door down.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." You 'tsked.'

"Oh, CX-2." You breathed out once you opened the door. Unsure if he was there for pleasantries or business.

He shoved his way past you, pressing the button to close the door shut.

"Wha-" He stormed around your rooms, it was quick considering there were only two. A bedroom and bathroom.

He held his blaster up as he checked every crevice of the room. His eyes glanced back at you quickly to make sure you were still there and alive.

"CX-2." You raised your voice. His head shot your way. "What's happened? You're scaring me..."

He paced up to you, removing his helmet as he walked. "He knows about us." Was all he managed out, throwing his helmet to the floor in favor of grabbing your cheeks gently.

Your face dropped, heart pounding in your ears. "How? I don't understand!" You started to breathe heavily.

"I just had to make sure you were safe." His gloved hands felt cool on your hot skin.

Your mind wandered, what would they do?

"I have to leave now." He said, dropping his hands. "No, wait. You can't just drop that bomb and leave!" You had so many questions, and you didn't want to be left alone freighted.

"I do not have time, if I don't complete my mission he will kill you." Your blood ran cold. "I am so sorry I brought you into this. I should have never stepped between you and that clone." He readied himself to exit the room, turning and putting his helmet back on.

"CX-2!" His shoulders dropped, he stood silent. You walked around to face him.

He let you reach your hands up and lift his helmet off. "I'm not upset at you. I only want more time..."

"I can't."

"I know." At your last words, you pulled him down by the collar of his blacks. Now level, you kiss him. Scared it would be your last.

The few seconds your lips touched felt like an eternity. All the time you needed with him...

Eventually, he pulled away. "I-"

"I know... please be safe..." You asked only one thing of him.

He nodded, placing his helmet back on snug. He then walked out your door, your thoughts consumed with wishes of his safety.

CX-2 would fulfill his mission, killing the compromised Operative. Though, that was only the first time he'd have to leave your grasp to keep you alive...

CX-2 reminded himself why he was currently headed to Pabu. 'Dire consequences are at stake' echoed in his mind.

He would capture Omega. He had no care for the innocent people he might have to kill. In his eyes, all of his actions were justified in the name of your well-being.

He never told you of his endeavors, now being sent on more gruesome missions than ever. He knew you'd be disappointed in him, but he also knew he had to always protect you. No matter the cost.

While expertly leading a fleet of soldiers, the only thing that let CX-2 think straight was you. He filled his mind with memories of your laughter. Of the times you begged him to choose a real name, even when he protested. When you first touched, when you first kissed.

He worried for you until the second he had Omega tied up on his ship.

Even after, he was anticipating his reunion with you. He had the girl, he had what Hemlock wanted. He could see you again.

And he did... Hemlock was consumed with his experiments and testing on Omega. So much he that didn't bother CX-2 for a few days. Oh, it was bliss.

The time you shared reminded you of before anyone knew you were together. You both still had your duties as clone and medic, but spent any free time with each other.

You laid in your bed, a glance at the clock scolded you for being up so late. You paid little mind to it, just enjoying the feeling of CX-2's arms around you.

With your head now buried in his chest, you let your hands wander. Slipping under the top portion of his blacks. He used to shiver reluctantly when you felt his skin, now it seemed like second nature.

You loved tracing his scars, the texture consuming you. While they were painful memories, they were treated with love and tenderness. He looked at his scars and thought of you, how you took care of him so nicely and delicately. Not Hemlock.

A light flickered from his panel brace. The one that rested on your nightstand. It lit up the room, and CX-2 immediately reached for it. he pulled away from you, but was careful to keep a connection with his leg still feeling you.

"I have to go." He said, standing to put his arm and chest armor back on.

While he was always quick and determined when hearing from Hemlock or Scorch, he was frantic here.

"Did something happen?"

"Nothing, do not stress. I love you." He gave you a quick kiss on the lips, and an affectionate rub of your thigh before putting his helmet on and leaving.

You sighed and leaned back when the door closed again. This was slowly becoming the new normal for you. You still savored every spare second you had together...

Just as you rolled over to fall asleep, the door opened. "Did you forg-" You jumped up, almost hitting your head on the baseboard of the bed. It was Scorch.

"Come with me. Now." He grabbed your arm and pulled you rough out of bed.

"Excu-"

"You are under arrest until further assessment." He forcefully put you in handcuffs.

You tried to resist, but put up no real fight in comparison to the trained clone. He grew tired of you and stunned you with his blaster.

You fell unconscious.

"You activated me?" CX-2 asked over Comms, like he would in any other situation.

"It seems we have another problem with our favorite girl." Hemlock said.

Omega...

"You see, she has managed to escape with the other children. Did I mention she also freed the zillo beast?"

CX-2 listened intently, not moving a muscle.

"You have been the only operative capable of capturing Omega thus far. I will see that you will find her again. Before she finds some way to leave the planet." CX-2 could hear the frustration in Hemlocks voice. It made him flicker a smile.

"Affirmative."

"Oh, and as a little motivater, I think it would serve you well to know your medic is currently held up in a cell." Hemlock went radio silent, leaving CX-2 to head to the exposed section of the base. The hole the Zillo beast left, and the way Force 99 was headed.

Your head throbbed, vision a little blurry. Raising your head from the cold of the floor, you noticed you were in a cell.

The room spun around before you sat up. Your whole body ached. Not to mention the confusion you were feeling.

Looking around, you saw other prisoners lining the walls. You knew exactly where you were. The hall where all the traitors and experimental clones were kept.

Were they going to experiment on you too? Was CX-2 okay? Did something happen to him that made Hemlock finally get you?

The building shook with a loud boom, it did nothing to help your nerves. It sounded like some kind of cannon went off.

"You okay?" A clone asked in the cell across from you.

"I don't know..."

With the effort and passion of a man whose entire reason for living was at risk, CX-2 and the other Clone Assasins were able to capture the rouge clones.

With his blaster barred in his hands, CX-2 guarded the three prisoners. He was occupied with the thought of what The Empire was doing to you.

You must have been so scared in a cell... He knew you didn't like small spaces. With his new fury, he closed his fist, doing yet another round of the platform they were on.

Boredom was unable to strike you, anxieties kept you busy. Your mind ran wild with the possibilities of CX-2. For a moment you questioned if he had just abandoned you as a whole, but quickly shunned yourself for bringing it up.

CX-2 loved you, and wouldn't dare leave you to rot.

"Look!" A clone yelled out, just as you saw a small girl and a storm trooper running by.

What were they doing?

They crept around the corner, swiftly blasting and taking out 2 storm troopers in the process. The girl got to work on the main computer that operated the cells.

"Hey kid, whats going on?" Someone asked.

"We're breaking you out."

Seconds later, your cell door opened. You slowly walked out, unsure what to do. What would CX-2 do in a situation like this? He'd probably tell you to keep your head down and blend in. Stay out of trouble, 'for his sake.'

You did just that, creeping out of the cell and hiding within the groups of clones.

Apparently, the 'storm trooper' was a clone, so was the girl. They were on a mission to free their three brothers, recruiting clones as they did so.

Was this the big mission CX-2 was called to? To capture the people they were here to rescue?

"We've checked all the cells, they aren't here."

You knew where they probably were... The training room. The very room that tortured and left your beloved marked. You didn't dare say a word. As much as you hated Hemlock and his 'methods,' worse things would happen if CX-2 failed his mission...

"Well... they could be in the training room." Damn, another clone had though the same as you.

They decided to head there, a few turning for an easier escape.

What should you do? Warn CX-2? You weren't raised as a soldier, you had no training. No fighting experience. You knew how to save and help, not attack and kill.

A small hand was rested on your arm, the girl from earlier. "Hi, I'm Omega."

You looked down to her. "I know it's kind of scary, but we have to fight for what's right.." If only she knew your true intentions...

"You're right... i'll come with you..." All you wanted was to find CX-2.

So, you did. Following them to the training room, they planned an attack from the lower circle.. You, however, had a new idea. To come in through the main balcony. The one that led directly to Force 99.

You managed to sneak away and climb the steps that brought you to the main doors.

"Hey, you! Are you supposed to be here?" A trooper stopped you.

"Yes sir," You gave him your chain code, "I am a medic. Hemlock has requested my services in the Training room." You lied, faking a confidence you never had.

"I never heard about Hemlock ever needing a medic in the training room..."

"Well if you want to ask him, while the Zillo beast is one the loose, he has new prisoners, and while his top experiment is lost- Be my guest. I just don't think he'd be very happy with you questioning his methods." You crossed your arms behind your back, something you'd seen CX-2 do many times.

"Fine." He moved out of your way, letting you head to your destination.

You walked to the door, ready to put your mother's clearance codes in. With a steam they opened, leaving you to witness a terrible sight.

The 3 captured clones were out, fighting. You got there in time to see the big clone burst out of the glass, tackling a special operative.

With the sound of the door, the man with a bandana looked your way. Along with CX-2, who rose swiftly upon seeing you. You distracted him long enough for the clone without a hand to blast him in his side.

You gasped as you watched CX-2 fall in your direction.

With an electrospear in his hand, the bandana man stepped to him. He only managed to zap him once before you ran in.

"No!" Your scream pierced out, you threw yourself onto CX-2. Using your body to cover his.

You didn't care if you died then and there, at least you'd die in CX-2's arms. You'd at least die together...

"No, don't!" You squeezed your eyes shut, prepared for a shock that never came. You felt a weak hand raise from under you to grip your clothes.

Tears streamed down your face violently. Pattering on CX-2's armor.

"You do realize the crimes he has committed..." The man panted out, he was also wounded.

"Please, it was for me... It was all for me..." You sobbed out. "Hemlock threatened my life..." You buried your head in his neck, holding him tightly.

"Hunter, no. We should kill them both now." The handless man spoke.

The man you assumed to be Hunter didn't have time to respond.

"I swear we wont follow you... Hemlock is probably on his way to his private ship... I swear..." Your words were muffled but they understood well enough.

"We are wasting time, lets go." Hunter commanded, the two of them left.

You gave out a whimper, "CX-2... Please... Stay with me." You pried his helmet off. He was in a rough state.

His eyes struggled to focus on one thing, but he still tried to find your face. "It'll be okay, just let me grab a med pack." You went to pull away, but he gripped you tighter.

"Let me.. hold," He coughed, "You.."

"You are not going to die on me. You wouldn't do that to me, would you?" You tried to joke. He shook his head, 'no.'

"Then let me do my job, and help you." He still held you tightly. "Please... you deserve to live..." He let you go.

It was only half a minute, you grabbed a medics kit that was nearby and began patching him up.

Making quick work of taking his armor and blacks off. It reminded you of the first time you'd done this to him. A very similar wound on his waist.

You forced him a pill, and squeezed out as much bacta as you could from its packet.

"Can you roll over for me, baby?" You asked, helping him get on his side.

He complied as much as he could, and you were able to patch up his other side.

"Okay, this will hold you over. I know the closest procedure room, a droid can give you a proper examination." You helped him stand, an arm under his own to keep his balance.

"You'll be okay, we'll be okay..." You whispered praises and words of affirmation to him. The walk was extremely painful for him, you could tell he was hiding most of it from you.

Lucky for both of you, a droid was able to identify where the blast was and give him a proper cleaning of the wound.

He was still woozy, but forced himself to stand. "We have to go. Tarkin is on his way.." CX-2 strained out. He was stubborn and refused any medication that would cloud his mind.

"W-where? Your ship?" You were scared, not just for CX-2, but your futures as well.

He pressed a few buttons on his panel brace as you picked up his helmet.

"Turn left." He instructed you all the way to his ship, even with the pain starting to blur his vision.

The two of you somehow managed to make it to his ship, you opened the door with his panel brace and sat him in the co-pilot's seat.

You clicked away, starting the ship up. Though, you did need some guidance from him.

You had never flown a ship before, but knew you had to take the risk to save CX-2. It was wobbly, but you raised the ship and let Auto-Pilot blast you into hyperspace. It had a set of coordinates in, ones you didn't know the location of.

A groan made you turn to your lovers direction, you were at his side immediately. Crouching down you spoke, "Hey, its okay... We're far away. You can take the pain medication, its just us two."

He peaked open an eye to look at you, his face barred disappointment in himself. Almost like he was a lesser man if he took the meds.

"Take them. If not for yourself, for me." You pulled them from your pocket. He did take them, minutes later he felt the relief.

You took another look at his wound, it was stable for now. You figured that he would need a cleaning and new bandages in a few hours. Hopefully his medkit was fully equipped on his ship. If it was, you'd be able to last many days without needing to land.

You stood, pulling his head to your breast. "Shhh, rest now. We are both safe."

He truly did feel safe in your arms, like he didn't have to always be on guard. A huge change from his normal. One he'd hoped he could live out with you for the rest of his life...

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I got a little carried away with this one... I just had to get this idea written down!!!

Tags-(lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss @dangraccoon

[hazbinhappy]

Hey! I saw your match-ups were open and would like to request one if that's okay! I'm a dude and on the shorter side (5'4), I am pan with no gender preferences but I do prefer people who are more on the confident side. My love languages are physical touch and acts of service.

I am an ambivert, whether I'm more extroverted or introverted can change very quickly. I am typically laid back and easygoing and don't get annoyed easily. My favorite colours are purple and green.

I usually switch between wearing punk/emo style clothes (studded belts, band t-shirts, chains, leather jackets) paired with eyeliner or casual style clothes (Hoodies, shorts, beanies). My hair is a dark brown with a white streak due to lack of melanin and my eyes are a dark brown.

My hobbies are hiking, climbing, photography, video games, video/photo editing, needle felting and juggling. I like animals, hights, music and cooking. I don't like loud noises and spiders.

My appearance would likely have some owl-like features because of my love of heights and my messed up sleep schedule. Other than that my appearance would be mostly the same as it is now.

I would prefer not to be matched with sir pentious or charlie please.

Your Matchup is....

Velvette!

She is like the definition of confidence (more like too much because look at miss ma’am so I guess cocky, but she isn't afraid and she knows what to do)

I think she’d find your hair and clothes style really interesting.

Probably would try and mix your styles together so you two can match or she would match colors only

Idk I feel like matching is a small way to show that you are tied to a person

Did I read video & photo editing? Of course I did, I've been staring at this for a hot minute!

Oh boy do I have a job for you buddy!

Yes you already know it, you are an editor for miss ma’am Velvette here

Is it fun staring at screens all day and not getting to go outside and do your more hands-on activities? Yes, but oh my goodness your cute boss is micromanaging at every second (as if she knows what you’re doing)

Okay, but for realsies, you do speak about how you need some breathing room to be able to concentrate and she does take note of that, she also hires another editor JUST ONE so your workload is a bit lighter; you know are solely for Velvette’s work and the other unlucky editor get to work for moth man

As you two got closer she started to make more clothes based on your fashion and soon made it a rule for all of her employees to only wear her clothes (Velv come on just admit your feelings and ask for him to wear your clothes!)

Once you two do get together she will automatically take your clothes without shame, but makes it work

Shoot she might even dress like you just to make the fit work

If you get her on a hike she is whining and complaining, but it gave her inspiration to expand her work into sporty/athleisure wear as well

She does take interest in your hobbies during her relaxation time and is willing to try your food, but she will be honest about her opinions (this princess)

“Ugh! You’re taking forever!” Velvette pouted from her chair beside you with her arms crossed,

“Apologies, little miss princess. Maybe don’t give me so many photos next time.” You rolled your eyes as you continued editing the slew of photos she gave you from today's shoot.

After several more minutes of silence (in reality it was thirty seconds), she just got up and pulled your chair away from the desk.

“Don’t fight! You have been working all night, I want to sleep with you. I’m for once going to bed on time and so will you! Dumb and Dumber are out for the night so if we’re fast we can get to sleep with silence.”

A/N: You sound like a sick person ngl i’m a bit jealous of your hobbies and style /pos owls are such a good choice

[thelastofharrington]

you're the one that i want (pt 3)

an: hi!! thank you guys for the conistent love on the first two parts! i just write for fun but it's great that people are liking this, even if it's just a few of you out there :) i'm back with a same-day update with just a little something! i promise we're getting somewhere good lol

warnings/tags: slow burn, friends to strangers to lovers, steve is a flirt and everyone is in love with him, king!steve

wc: 976

pt 1 pt 2

“We’ll talk later”? That’s it? You couldn’t believe your ears, even three hours later at lunch. You push your food-colored mush around the tray, not feeling very up to eating after the stressful morning you’ve had. You agreed with him that you had a lot to catch up on, but for whatever reason you didn’t trust his intentions. You were finding it hard to believe that he wanted to pick up where you left off like you did. 

“Y/N please, you’re being all mopey over Steve Harrington it’s embarrassing,” Nancy remarks as she takes a bite out of whatever it is the school was calling lunch today. “There are so many cuter, smarter, nicer guys out there to mope over. You’re way better off without him.”

You sigh and look up to her, “It’s not that I want to be with him in any way! It’s just���” You trail off before continuing, “When I thought he didn’t recognize me, it’s like my entire childhood died right then and there. And then when he did recognize me but barely cared, it’s like I died right along with it. It’s just so humiliating. I’ve been thinking about him for nine years, wondering what he was like and what he was doing, just for him to barely care that I’m there at all.”

Nancy sighs before setting her fork down and looking you straight in the eye, “Look, I don’t know what kind of magical connection you guys had as nine year olds but, face it, people change. Sometimes they change for the better, other times they change for the worst. It’s just unlucky that he changed in the way that he changed and you changed in the way that you changed. Not everyone can be compatible forever.”

You take in what she’s saying and nod. Maybe she’s right, maybe you can get through this with your ego relatively unscathed. Sometimes people just change, it’s a fact of life and perhaps you were being delusional thinking that he would be waiting for you like some lost puppy after all this time. You have a midterm project to do and that’s what matters, everything else is manageable or straight-up ignorable. He wasn’t your Stevie anymore and that was that. 

“Thanks, Nance. You’re probably right. I’ll forget about him as much as I can while we do this stupid project together.

Nancy starts back on her food, “What’s your project on anyway? Mine last year was on the digestive system.”

You were so caught up in the Steve of it all that you hadn’t even looked at the paper Mr. Kaminsky had handed out detailing your assignment details. Digging through your backpack through the million syllabi and textbooks, you finally found it. You take one look at it before groaning and slamming it on the table for Nancy to read herself.

She busts out laughing, “You can’t be serious?”

“The reproductive system! Of all things!” You hide your head in your hands and groan once more. 

Nancy tries to stop herself from laughing but fails, “No, no it will be fine. I mean, to be honest, Steve will probably pay you big bucks to do it alone and slap his name on it anyway. But, God, that is funny.”

“This is going to add a whole other layer of awkwardness to it all.”

“You’ll be fine, just don’t let him try and trick you into hands on learning.” She takes a bite of her apple while you make a scrunched up, disgusted face at her. “What! We all know he gets around, and you two have a history! He’s bound to try something.”

You roll your eyes, “Trust me, he does not see me that way. He barely sees me, period.”

You wait for Nancy to respond but she does is widen her eyes and grow pale. “What, have you seen a ghost or something, Nance?”

Suddenly, an all too familiar voice pipes up from behind you, “Or something.”

You whip around to see none other than Steve The King Harrington resting his hand on the table beside you, other hand on his hip, feet crossed. Nonchalance in a stance.

He spares you the awkwardness of trying to cover your tracks by moving on and saying, “So I was thinking about our project and how it might be nice to plan out who was going to do what.”

You stutter out, “That, uh, that sounds–”

“Great? Awesome, glad to hear it. My house? 7 o’clock? You remember the address, don’t you, sweetheart?” He winks at you and turns to Nancy dropping his tone a little and drawling, “Hey Wheeler, nice sweater you got there today.”

She feebly waves back while brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. You almost swear she bats her eyes at him, and if you weren’t so shocked by his presence, you would have rolled your eyes at her. She really lost some credibility as the “forget him!” friend with that shocking display of subordinance. 

Before you can say anything else, he’s gone as soon as he had arrived. Immediately once he’s out of your line of sight you turn back to Nancy, “What the hell was that!”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me! He has secret powers or something. I felt totally under a spell.”

“You’re pathetic.” You tease as she covers her face to hide the blushing. “Looks like no one is truly immune to ‘The King’.”

“You’re going to have to be if you’re going over there tonight at 7. That’s a date time.”

You scoff, “It’s a Monday.”

“The King takes no days off.”

Your incredulous laughter is cut short by the bell ringing, signaling that you had the rest of your day to get to. It was going to be a long six hours until 7 pm.

[orions-hole]

Warning: THIS IS A VENT

I wanna scream. I don't know why but I constantly feel on the verge of screaming.

Out of excitement, frustration, anger, fear, anxiety, madness. But I just feel like I *must* scream.

But I always stop myself, "I'll look crazy", "They'll say I'm exaggerating", "I don't even have a reasoning", "It's disrespectful", "This is not a place to scream", and each time. The impulse lows larger.

I wanna tell someone but something tears at me inside that if anyone knows it'll be the end lf my life. I've had that feeling before. And it never ends well when I do, infact, tell. Even if it's to strangers online.

This sounds like something you'd find on r/cringe or r/genzproblems or some weird reddit thing where people are *cringe*.

And I know cringe culture is very fuckin dead but you know what? I'm still scared.

I don't even know why I'm telling this to my 3 followers of which 1 is my girlfriend and 1 is some person I call friend but know nothing about. I don't know why I'm telling anyone when I know how this will end.

Most definiteve answer? I'll get texts from my girlfriend asking if I'm okay and why I've bottled this up and if I know it's harmful why aren't I doing anything about it while I wanna tell her she's a hypocrite because she's been sick for weeks and we should both worry about ourselves bur ultimately end up just saying "Worry about yourself <3 I'm fine- I was just tired dw"

What else may happen? Those other 2 followers will just be like: Eh. Or not even click "keep reading".

And you, unlucky person readinf this that isn't any of those 3 and has stayed up till here.

What will you do? Well you'll probably keep living, you'll know some random gen alpha out there wants to scream but probably forget by tomorrow and worry about yourself and you deserve to. You deserve to be selfish. You've probably earned it. Infact you might be tempted to reblog "same" or "#same" or "this is called <thing> and you should see a psychologist for help". Or maybe you just wanna be hateful, and you're seeing this attention seeking whorw ans thinking "Oh great. Another post for attention." and to not tell Tumblr to keep recommendating me, took a screenshot to post "attention whore" or you might be smart enough to realize some people will look for the post and just post "saw someone being an attention whore. shm."

You might be none of those or some magically how both!

And you know what? You're complex and a human and whatever course of action you take there's someone out there that will love you regardless because guess what? They're human too and I bet you that there is someone out there defending Hitler and that wants to kiss him. And you know that of he is getting people 80 years later then you have a fuckin change regardless of how much you hate yourself or want to die.

And I know it too. I know that if I do anything dramatic it'll end having a butterfly effect so big.

I know that everyone is not a fuckin npc, I know there's a reason the dude gave flowers to hia girlfriend yesterday and not today. I know everyone is so complex and I can't split this black and white.

But I don't care.

I just don't care.

I want attention.

I want love.

I want to scream without fear.

I want to not cut myself mid sentence after realizing that it doesn't matter what I say because the result will be the same unless I roll a 20 on chariama.

I want to know why whenever I'm happy qnd having the best time of my life everyone I care about suffers.

It's happened *too* much to be a coincidence.

I want to know what the fuck people mean when they say shame.

I wanna know why the same people that say "antisocial" instead of "asocial" police me around with its and it's and it is

I wanna know how "fear of the same" = "fear of people with attraction to people of the same gender"

I wanna know why "I don't feel any attraction at all" = "I'm a groomer"

I wanna know why life is so complex and so predictable and so surprising.

I wanna know *why.*

And I still feel like the next word I utter in real life will be yelled.

[jvblood]

first encounter

pairing: argyle x gn!reader

word count: 2k

summary: majority wins in a discourse of where to eat, you were the unlucky one to go get the pizza but it doesnt feel the unlucky when you see him at the register

WARNINGS: none, i think : D here is part 2 : )

a/n: i wrote partners last night and this one literally today. Im going out to eat and you bet your bottom dollar that im cooking up the next fic

The thing about you is that you like control. Not in the freaky way, just the way you like to know every outcome and how to find the one where you were positive that you and whoever you were with would be comfortable. Just like how tonight you and a couple of friends were struggling on what to eat. You wanted some chinese take out while the others wanted to get pizza. The four of you sitting in Janet's living room ‘contemplating’ on where to eat. You knew the answer already.  

“The majority votes on pizza.” Janet said. One thing about Janet you always knew is how she always said majority wins. She’s not wrong but honestly it can be annoying. 

“Fine but I get to choose the toppings!” You declare. 

“That’s fine but you have to get toppings for two pies.” Chandler says. The stomach that this guy has is like an empty pit. Not that there’s anything wrong but you seriously consider if he’s ever going to regret those choices. 

“I know, meathead.” You say playfully rolling your eyes.

“Wait, spin the bottle to see who goes to pick it up!” Danny says as he picks up a random coke bottle off the floor. He spins the bottle and it just so happened to land on you. You exclaim in frustration how this was unfair while the other three lay back in comfort. 

“Hey, don’t hate the player, hate the bottle.” Chandler says as if that makes it better. You flip him off as you grab your bag and keys. Soon the other three put cash in the middle of the table and you grab their change. 

“Anything else before I head out?” You ask out. They all shook their head no as they were already chilling watching the TV. 

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂ 

You arrive at Surfer Boy Pizza and walk into the shop. The smell of oven baked pizza overwhelms your senses and the fast paced workers move as if they were bees in a colony. You see people sitting around waiting for their pizzas but fortunately there was no line. You see the cashier chilling talking to a coworker, his back towards you. You take in how his hair is probably a lot longer than it should be and consider if he’s breaking any health code violations. But he’s not making the pizzas so you should be fine. Right? The coworker makes notice of you coming in so he taps the assumed cashier for him to take your order.

“Welcome to Surfer Boy Pizza! My name is Argyle, how can I be of service to you today!” He greets very enthusiastically, looking down at the register before meeting your eyes. All that confidence he had to greet you suddenly flew out the window. 

“Hi, I was wondering if I can get two pizzas?” You shyly answer back. Something about him made your heart skip a beat. Argyle. That’s what he said his name is. You think about it front to back knowing that ‘Argyle’ is probably the cutest guy you’ve ever seen. 

“Yeah, perfect,” He stutters “ what, uh, toppings?” 

“Oh! Yeah, can I get pepperoni on one and pineapple and ham on the other?” 

“You like pineapple and ham on yours too!” He exclaims.

“Yeah, it’s like a delicacy!” “Oh sweet, dude, me too! Honestly, one of my top favorite toppings for my ‘za.” He says, writing down the order and putting the total through the register. You nod, not knowing if you could be the only one that feels this tension between the two of you. 

“Your total will be $13.96.” Argyle says, waiting nicely for you to take out your wallet. Inside your wallet you fish out for the change only to realize you were two dollars short. Panic starts coursings through your veins as you try to hastily look for any change you could possibly have. You sigh out when you finally come to the realization you have. “Uhm, I hate to ask this but do you think I can come back in to grab two more dollars at home? I’m short a bit.” You shyly look away a bit embarrassed at the fact. 

“Don’t sweat it bro, I got you!” He says waving his hand and grabbing his wallet from his back pocket. 

“No, Argyle, you don’t have to do this.” You say hoping he didn’t have to pay for the rest. 

“It’s just two dollars, dude, no worries.” He calmly says as he puts your cash and his two dollars into the register.  

“Are you sure, I mean I could always come back and get it?” You bargain, really hoping that could come back. 

“Dude, it’s fine. I gotchu, consider this a friendly gesture.” He shrugged it off. You smile and thank him for showing such kindness to you. Something in your stomach feels funny. Were you sick? Do you need to use the restroom? No this wasn’t any guttural instances where you need to be rushed to the nearest toilet. It was butterflies. It feels like shit but feels exhilarating. Little did you know Argyle was feeling the same way. As ironic as it sounds he fell a little bit when you walked through the door but when you mentioned your favorite topping he fell a bit harder. 

You sit and wait for your pizzas considering it won’t be that long. You look around the shop and take it in, before you realize your pizza is already finished. You walk up to the counter and take the pizza from Argyle. You gave him a nod and thank you as you were about to head out. He has this boyish smile that makes you have goosebumps. Trying to play it off as casually as possible you balance the two pizzas into one hand to open your car door and slap the back of your neck for acting so awkward. You’re silently cursing at yourself for thinking you look like a fool back there and Argyle watched the whole thing happen. He couldn’t help himself; he was really enthralled with you. Yet, he had work to do and take the next customer's order. 

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂ 

It’s been a couple days since you went to the pizza shop and once again your friends are figuring out somewhere to eat. The four of you are in Chandler’s car trying to come up with a plan on wear to pig out for the evening. “How about pizza?” You ask hoping someone will say yes. “Oh, hell yeah.” Chandler says as he puts the car in drive heading to the place you dreamed of. “Just make sure we have enough money, yeah? Argyle was lucky enough to spend his own money to pay off the rest.” You say as you begin looking through your own wallet to see what you have from this week's allowance. 

“Argyle?” Janet asks.

“Yeah, he’s the cashier that was working when I was there.” You mindlessly say as you grab your end of change. 

“Oh! You mean the guy that you’ve been stalking?” Danny says, turning around in the front seat to look at you. 

“Stalking? Stalking! I’m not stalking anyone!” You shout, emphasizing on the ‘anyone’. 

“You’re being defensive–they’re being defensive, aren’t they?” Janet asks the other two as well and they agree and say ‘yup’, ‘duh’.  She pushes you playfully and says, “You need to calm down, it’s okay to have a crush.” 

“I’m not confirming nor denying that statement, so keep your thoughts to yourself.” You huff, crossing your arms and looking out the window. The three all look at you smirking, knowing that they’re right. 

Soon enough, you arrived at the shop. All four of you exited the car and Danny opened the shops door for all of you to head inside. Janet whistles to grab your attention and point to the cashier. It was him. You felt your shoulders relax as you saw him. He was a bit messy with flour on him. Danny and Chandler look at you as if you just asked what two plus two is. The four of you made it to the counter waiting for him to come take your orders. Argyle comes up, breathless, wiping the flour off as much as possible. 

“Hey, dude! Nice to see you again.” He says, failing to get the flour off and just spreading it all over him even more. You giggle at how it just spreads even more and look him in the eyes. After failing to get it off, he gives up and just looks at you, noticing you look at him. His shoulders slumps and he smiles. The other three are just watching in discomfort watching you two interact. The romantic tension is actually causing harm to them. “Yeah, we’d like two pizzas please.” Janet says breaking the tension. Argyle looks at her and nods as he writes it down. 

“Pepperoni and pineapple and ham, again?” Argyle asks as he looks up at you. 

“Uhh–” you shake yourself from your thoughts, “is that alright with you guys?” You ask the others to make sure that was alright. They all agree, taking a mental note on how he remembered the pizza order from the other night. You tell him that’ll be great for the toppings. 

“Anything else?” He asks, looking at you, not intentionally ignoring the others. He just wanted to hear you speak again. 

“Yeah, we’ll get a couple of drinks, thanks.” Chandler says as he pulls out his portion of cash. The other two take out what they have and finally you did as well. “That’ll be $16.46.” He says as he opens the register. You take the rest of the group's cash and see that you have well over enough. You hand the money to Argyle, he grazes his fingers over yours while taking the money. He hands you the change and the receipt as the others find a seat. You thank him and go sit next to your friends. 

“Him? Really?” Danny says, throwing his thumb over his shoulder to point at Argyle.

“Shut up.” “I’m just being real right now, bud.” Danny says, throwing his hands up in defense. 

“Dan’s not wrong,” Chandler says, sneaking a glance at Argyle “ you ended a relationship with that one guy because he was too ‘laid back’ and him! He’s just as laid back– or even more laid back!” 

“Yeah, dude, the two of you just don’t look.” Janet says, trailing on her words as she couldn’t find the right words to say. 

“What? Don’t look like what?” You argue back. 

“All I’m saying is if I saw you and him together, I’d think you’d be his babysitter.” Danny says, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Wow.” You huff out, crossing your arms. “Hey, you said you weren’t confirming or denying if you had a crush on him!” Danny exclaims trying to prove you have no reason to be upset.

“Shut up, Danny. You’re pissing me off.” You scowl as you reach for a pen from your bag. You pull the cap off and write your name and number on the receipt. 

Soon enough, your order is ready and you shoot out of your seat to grab the pizzas. You have two dollars in hand and the receipt with your digits on it, content to give both to Argyle. 

“Here you go.” Argyle breaths out, exhaling the breath he didn’t notice that was stuck in his throat. “And here you go,” You say holding out the note and two dollars “consider this a friendly gesture.” With that you walked back to your friends with pizzas in hand. Argyle looks down at the receipt and two dollars and smiles. He quickly glances up to see you looking back at him and a gesture of a phone, signaling for him to call you.

“Thought you said it wasn’t a crush.” Chandler teases you as he takes the pizza from you, opening a box and stealing a slice. You flick his forehead grabbing a slice from the pineapple and ham box.

[landoncrris]

Hi bestie I was wondering if I could request a smut with Mason where y/n is portuguese and had an affair with him during his vacation after the euros and it's hired by Chelsea to start working with them as a masseuse, she at first doesn't recognize him but he does and when they lock eyes he sends her his signature smirk as a beginning of the plot and then the rest I'll leave it up to you <3

thanks for the great request!! but i’m so sorry that it’s not apparent that the reader is portuguese - i tried to include it but it just didn’t turn into something i liked, so i hope it doesn’t bother you too much and that you like it!!!

just a summer fling -mason mount x reader

request something

warnings: english is not my first language, not proofread ; 18+ minors dni. dom!mason, sub!reader, sexual tension, swear words, degrading kink, fingering, unprotected sex, public sex, spitting, nipple play?, choking, hair pulling

word count: 4.1k

When the summer was over, you had your first day at your new job — at Chelsea FC as a masseuse. You were very excited when you got a call a few weeks ago telling you that your application had been accepted because you wanted to explore different categories of your job. It was clear that you didn’t know anything about football because the only thing you did was support your country at the Euros or the World Cup.

When you arrived, you were first shown your new office by some senior staff and given a tour of Cobham in general. “So, down here are the regeneration rooms...” someone explained to you, but as he spoke your attention was drawn to the players coming out of the building and heading to the training ground for their first training session after the summer break. To your surprise, you could even make out a few faces.

“Oh, would you look at that! What a timing...” he points to the group of men and slowly walks in the direction, “Come on, I’ll introduce you to some of the guys.”

He introduced you to everyone present and explained to each of them what your job was and where your office was in case they needed anything from you. Luckily they were all super nice and didn’t make you feel uncomfortable, which you were really scared of on your first day.

As you were talking to one of them, you saw out of the corner of your eye someone else coming out of the building and felt his eyes boring into you. So you looked over at him and sent him a quick smile without thinking anything of it, because he was probably just wondering who you were.

“Alright there, Mase, a bit late, eh?” the player you had been talking to called out, waving him over to you. Your eyes glanced back to him when you heard the nickname, and you saw him smirking at you as he walked slowly in your direction. You muttered a low “Oh my God..” —that thankfully no one could hear— as you realised why he was looking at you like that and who he was.

“Mason, this is Y/N, our new masseuse,” he put a hand on your shoulder as he spoke, “And Y/N, this is Mason Mount.” he pointed at the man standing in front of you, the clear clarification of who you thought he was made you take a deep breath. You wondered how unlucky you were to be in such an unlikely situation.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Mmm, how nice.” you replied, shaking his hand and putting on a fake smile so no one suspected anything, while he looked you up and down and put a hand over his eyes to avoid being blinded by the sun.

“So... Y/N,” Mason started to say, emphasising your name as you were usually past that stage and preferred to use each other’s nicknames, until he was interrupted by the coach telling them to gather around and talk about today’s training. “Well, I guess we’ll talk later.” he said as he walked past you and sent you wink.

“Actually,” Mason called out, at which you stopped and turned back around while rolling your eyes, “I’d like a massage after training. 5pm, better not be late on your first day.”

“Sure!” you shouted back, fighting the urge to groan and complain about him because of the staff being around you.

Luckily for you, Ben Chilwell also came to get a massage, stating that his muscles were tired from the summer break, which was of course a much better reason than what Mason had to offer.

Just as you finished with Ben — with whom you were able to form an amazing connection after only half an hour of conversation — Mason walked in, “Hello, love.” to which you narrowed your eyes as he lay down next to Ben on the massage couch.

“Well, it seems you already have a fan here.” Ben laughed, stood up and thanked you for your help. He walked over to Mason and gave him a handshake before patting you on the back on his way out, “See you guys tomorrow!”

You both said goodbye as well, before you turned to Mason and prepared everything for his session, while his eyes never left your body. “So... Where do you need a massage?”

“My thighs.” he said proudly, thinking he was the smartest guy ever as he pulled down his shorts. “You can just roll them up,” you said quickly, not wanting him to just lie there in his boxers, but he was quicker than you, already folding them up and putting them beside him. “...or not.”

“Don’t be shy now, love, you’ve seen me naked several times.” he said cheekily, leaning back with his hands behind his head so that the shirt around his biceps looked painfully tight. You remembered the moments when those same arms were holding himself up beside your head as you dug your nails into them.

You tried to tear yourself away from your thoughts, and tried to push the memories of him away. Even though you knew he would never let them go in the near future. You began massaging his thighs, trying to avoid eye contact, as well as a glance at his visible bulge. “I tried to call you.”

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you answer?” he asked more seriously this time because he didn’t understand why you were so distant after the great two weeks you spent together during the holidays. But he was still planning to foil your plan, because he was not one to back down from a challenge. And when he wanted something, he usually got it. “Because it was just a summer fling, Mason, and I wanted to keep it that way.”

“So you didn’t miss me? Or ever thought about me?” You shake your head as you walked around him to touch his other thigh more easily. “Not even about that one time when I fingered you in the back o—” you interrupted him by pinching his thigh, causing him to hiss in pain and this time a smirk to appear on your lips.

“Rude. But you can pretend all you want sweetheart, I still remember you screaming my name” he muttered, not letting up on teasing you to the point where you wished you had applied to another club. “Honestly Mount, you and I, this will never happen again, I work here now and I’m not going to lose my job because of you. So can’t we just forget about it and be friends?”

“Friends? No, I don’t think so, Y/N/N. Friends don’t know what you taste like.” his answer made your head fall back and you groaned, knowing that this was going to be a very long and tiring time.

And it was indeed a very stressful week for you because you had to hide how attracted you were to him while he constantly found a good opportunity to tease you and make lewd remarks to you. At this point, the sexual tension between the two of you was so high that you didn’t know how much longer you could resist.

Especially now that the guys have invited you to a little “season kick-off party” they have every year. For this you went to a club that was reserved just for you, which made you nervous at first, but when you saw how many friends they invited, it calmed your nerves a bit. Because you’d rather be overlooked by the mass of people than have everyone’s attention.

Even though that’s what you didn’t want, you spent the whole evening talking to various guys, listening to them make bad pick-up lines and telling you how great you looked all evening. You regretted coming here at all, especially as your eyes were fixated on Mason all evening, who had a girl by his side that he had probably brought as a date.

Watching her laugh at everything he said and basically shove her tits in his face made you want to throw up. You were so used to him teasing you every free second that you wished he would do just that when he wasn’t. And the moment you saw him with a girl, you wished you’d given in to him sooner, because the need to have him was far too big at the moment and your job was honestly the last thing you cared about. You couldn’t deny that Mason was amazing in bed, and secretly you would do anything to experience that again, but you weren’t planning on letting him know that.

“Can’t take your eyes off me, can you?” Mason whispered right into your ear as he sidled up to you where you stood at the bar, drowning your shot and ignoring his presence. “You thought I wouldn’t notice, huh?”

“Shut up.” you mumbled, barely audible over the sound of the music, causing him to move closer so he could hear you better. “I saw you surrounding yourself with several of the guys tonight, Y/N, I thought you were afraid of losing your job.”

“Maybe just an excuse not to be with you.”

“Or you’re trying to make me jealous?” said Mason with confidence, eliciting a snort from you. “You’re so full of yourself, Mason. Why don’t you go back to your date and leave me alone?”

“She’s actually gone home.” he smiled at your comment, knowing that you were watching him and that it must have had some effect on you. “And you didn’t take her to your place? That’s new.”

“She’s not the one I want to take home tonight.” he tried again, making you order a new cocktail, a strong one that might make you block out Mason’s voice if you concentrated hard enough. Even though you knew it wouldn’t work because the alcohol would make it even harder to resist him.

Mason’s eyes wandered down to your breasts peeking out of your dress as you leaned slightly over the bar so the bartender could hear you properly. He had to clear his throat and force his eyes to look back up into your face as you straightened. “You look pretty damn good tonight, by the way.”

“Thank you.” sending him a smile as you looked at him for the first time since he had come over to you and you saw your absolute favourite look on him. It was the way he walked around every day on holiday, a white shirt with the first few buttons undone, showing off his neck and part of his chest perfectly. You didn’t want to stop staring at him, just wanted to run your fingers under his shirt, kiss his neck and feel his breath against your ear again. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“Mmm, you know the colour of this dress kind of reminds me of the lingerie you were wearing when—“ He was yet again interrupted mid-sentence when you put a hand over his mouth and then lightly bumped his shoulder, making him chuckle darkly. Just as he was about to say something else, the bartender came over and handed you your drink.

“It’s free, sweetheart.” the bartender said as you pulled out your wallet, winking at you and definitely staring at your breasts for a little too long. You were about to smile and say a quick, “Thanks,” when Mason spoke up, “Actually. I’ll pay for it.”

Mason put money on the table and gave him a look that made you smile awkwardly as the bartender walked away without another word. “Aren’t you going to thank me?” asked Mason, to which you rolled your eyes and turned your back on him.

“Oh come on Y/N, why are you being so distant?” he moved in front of you again so that you had to look in his direction. “I’m not going to bite. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.” he said, mumbling the last part, knowing you wouldn’t be pleased with another sexual remark. “Could you look at me, please?”

“Tell me to leave you alone and that you don’t want me and I’ll leave you alone.” Mason gave you a choice as you looked him in the eye properly for what felt like the first time in the last week. But to be honest, you didn’t have to think much about your answer, so you preferred to keep quiet and let him figure it out for himself. He smirked at the fact that you obviously didn’t want him to leave you alone.

“Could you at least try to keep it together, Mason?”

“When you look like that? Not a chance.” which made you smile, suddenly it felt like the strange tension around you had somehow disappeared. You felt comfortable and relaxed in his company again, although you didn’t understand when and why that changed again.

“I’ll take it that you like what you see.”

“I’ll show you how much I like it, just you wait.” replied Mason, to which you smiled and took a step towards him, the alcohol making you more confident now, before looking around to make sure no one was looking your direction. “And how are you going to do that?”

“I’m going to fuck you so good that you won’t be able to think about anything but the pleasure of being with me.” Mason leaned in and whispered in your ear, eliciting a shuddering breath from you, as you placed your fingers on his shirt and undid another button. “I’m afraid I can’t stay professional any longer then...”

At your words, Mason laughed cockily while his tongue was poking his cheek. He nodded in one direction, signalling you to follow him, while you really hoped no one saw, because a scandal in your first week of work wouldn’t be so great. As you walked on, you knew where he was leading you because it reminded you a lot of your holiday when you used to sneak into a public restroom together. Sometimes you even went to the house where he stayed in the middle of the night, trying to be quiet so his friends wouldn’t overhear. And you’d be lying if you said that sneaking around like a teenager didn’t turn you on right now.

When you made it into the bathroom, he locked the door and had you pressed against it within seconds, connecting his mouth to yours, pulling a surprised moan from you that got lost in his mouth, giving his tongue access to your mouth as you did so. The force of his kiss made your knees buckle as you dropped your bag to the floor to grab his neck and intensify the kiss.

Mason’s hands grabbed your waist as his kisses left your lips and moved to your neck instead, sucking at the skin, sure to leave bruises that you needed to cover, but you didn’t care at the moment. A particularly harsh suck made your head fall back against the door and moan his name, “You’re such a little slut, Y/N. Thought you didn’t miss me, huh?”

“Just shut up, Mason.” you mumbled breathlessly, pushing him away from you a moment later, causing him to stumble a little. You slipped out of your dress as quickly as you could so that you were only wearing your panties and heels before you took a step forward and pressed your lips to Mason’s again. The kisses were full of desire after all the pent-up tention of the last week.

Your fingers ran over the fabric of his shirt, hastily unbuttoning it and running your hands over his chest and down the little strand of hair. You quickly opened his trousers too and let them fall down his legs with a dull thud as he grinned at your desperation to undress him.

You disconnected your lips and slowly got down on your knees as you kissed his chest and ran your hands along his thighs. But when your mouth was close to his crotch, he pulled you up by your hair again, pressed you back against the cold tiles and made you whimper from the force of his grip.

“Later. I just want you right now.” Mason said, pushing your underwear aside and running a finger through your folds so that your head fell back again and your knees buckled, making you wonder how you would be able to stay there with your heels still on, which made it even harder.

“You’re already so wet, Y/N/N... all this for me?” he asked between kisses on your nipples that made you nod and you were already a moaning mess as he inserted two fingers inside you.

“Fuck— Mason please”

“You really are such a dirty slut, Y/N, moaning so loudly that everyone outside the door can hear you.” he whispered before circling your nipple with his tongue as you wrapped your hands around his neck to steady yourself, pulling his hair in the meantime. The wet sound of your pussy mingled with your moans as your vision blurred from the tears forming in your eyes and your legs trembled from the quick movements of his fingers inside you.

“Mason, please.” you murmured again, your voice growing weaker by the second from his touch and the loud sounds coming from your lips. As his thumb began to rub your clit, you put a hand over your mouth to muffle your moan, “Fuck, Mason — Oh my God.”

“Be a good girl, Y/N.” Mason said as he pulled your hand away from your mouth and trapped it between his and the wall. His fingers were moving even faster now and when they hit the perfect spot inside you, your legs almost gave out.

“Mason, I’m so close, fuck, fuck, fuck—” you cried out, the orgasm beginning to overtake you, and right at that moment Mason pulled his fingers away from you, making you whine out loud in despair as your body trembled and you squinted your eyes in pleasure.

“I hate you.” you muttered as you open your eyes again and saw him licking his fingers as he looked at you and smirked, driving you out of your mind.

“Mmm, open your mouth, baby.” the tone in his voice made you do exactly what he said without another thought. Mason put his hand around your neck and squeezed lightly, eliciting a whimper from you as you stood there with your mouth open and your tongue sticking out. He conjured spit in his mouth before letting it drip onto your tongue, while you stayed like that, waiting patiently for his next move.

“Good girl.” he put his fingers in your mouth now so you could lick off the rest of your arousal, with his spit still on your tongue. He pushed his fingers as far down your throat as he could so that you had to gag around them and he longed for it to be his cock.

“Such an obedient whore, aren’t you, Y/N?” growled Mason as you whimpered around his fingers, causing him to chuckle darkly before pulling his fingers from your mouth. “You can swallow, baby.” the fingers of his other hand were still pressing against your throat, making him feel your throat gulp beneath them.

“Now i want you to take of your heels and bend over the sink, can you do that?”

“Yes.” voice barely a whisper as you struggled to form a proper sentence. But you did as he told you, proving how well you listen to him. Your feet felt cold on the tiles, but at least it was easier to stand up now as you bent over the sink with the mirror in front of your face - exactly where he wanted you.

He watched you intently as you moved over and his eyes fell on your ass as you bent forward giving him the perfect view of your dripping pussy, making him groan. Mason moved behind you and pulled down his boxers as well, making you turn your head around.

“Nu-uh, Y/N, I want you to watch.” Mason turned your head back by your chin so that you had to look him in the eye through the mirror. You wiggled your butt to make him hurry. “Look at you all stretched out and trembling.”

“Mason.” you whined, because you’ve had enough of him wasting time, and your arms were already hurting from having to hold yourself up on the sink, which is why you lowered your head and bend further forward. Which in turn caused Mason to pull you up by your hair again.

“What did I say, Y/N?” talking in a low voice that sent a shiver down your spine as he was busy wrapping your hair around his hand to get a better grip on it. “Actually...” he started to speak when an idea popped into his head that made him lean forward slightly — causing his dick to rub against your ass — and turn on ice cold water on the sink below you.

There was a mischievous look in his eyes while the anticipation of what he was about to do turned you on even more and you were pretty sure that if he actually fucked you, you would come undon within minutes.

Mason let the sink fill with water until he turned it off. “So now...” he bent you down further so that your nipples touched the cold water, causing your mouth to drop open and you whimpered loudly, “If you don’t listen to me and watch, this is what’s going to happen.” Knowing this made you want to disobey him even more, but in reality he was just teasing you with it.

Mason pulled you up again, but his hand found the water and wrapped his fingers around your neck again, making you arch your back even more. You felt the cold water run down your chest and along the curves of your breasts as he thrusted into you, giving you no time to adjust, which made you cry out.

He immediately started thrusting hard, causing your inner walls to flutter around him and your grip on the sink to tighten. “Still so fucking tight for me, Y/N.”You watched him through the mirror as he threw his head back and moaned the words, causing you to clench around him tightly so that his moans got even louder.

Mason’s hand moved to your waist, pulling you back into him with each thrust. “Mason—” you gasped as he hit your g-spot, fighting the urge to roll your eyes back and continue watching him instead. “That’s right, let everyone know who’s fucking you this good."

Your moans echoed in the tiny room, along with the sound of skin on skin that people could undoubtedly hear, even over the sound of the music. “What do you think your new bosses would say if they knew you were being railed like a fucking slut by me in a club toilet, huh?”

When you just moaned in response, he pushed you further down so that your nipples were in contact with the water again as he pounded into you from behind. You pressed your forehead against the wall as you felt your orgasm approaching and you clenched around him again and again, “Mason, please, can I cum?”

Your words made him chuckle, his hand leaving your hips to rub your clit, “Go on then, Holy shit— cum for me Y/N” he moaned, pace not ones faltering, as he let go of your hair and slapped your ass cheek. “Oh my god, Mason- Fuck”

He felt you clenching tightly around him as you came and how your legs trembled as you screamed his name. That made his climax approach too, but he tried to wait and fuck you through your’s first. When you came down from your high again, he thrusted a few more times, making you whimper from being so sensitive, until he pulled out and came on your back, decorating your skin with his cum.

After a few moments of only hearing each other’s heavy breathing, you straightened up and smiled at him through the mirror as he took some cum with his finger. He tapped it against your mouth so you could lick it off, “How about we continue this somewhere more private?”

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

School Nurse

@letstalkaboutfandomsbaby led me to yet another 2D man that I want to get wrecked by

How would a school nurse react to Hwajin’s presence? Dabauchery will ensue.

AN: this started out as a short little drabble, turned into a long smutty mess that I finally rangled in with romance because… after care. As a nurse I was getting to into the logistics of the pencil stab

TW: smut, degradation, praise kink, breeding kink, power exchange, mild wound description (pencil stab), sex in a nurses office, oral sex

NO MINORS

Hwajin knew you would look good on your knees. You had a bratty, stubborn nature that he wanted to overpower. He thought you were too gentle with trouble makers. When he told you this, you argued that it was your job as a school nurse to take care of all the students.

How was it that you were so hostile with him but when it came to even the worst students you were so gentle. It irritated him. You actively avoided him. Maybe he wouldn't care if he didn't find you so damn adorable. Thoughts of you kept him company late at night.

Even when he forced you to take a baton after he saw a student get in your face yelling. The only person you used it against was him. Apparently you wouldn't allow him to pull students out of your office regardless of their offense.

He was shocked to learn that few students ever bothered you. The worst offenders would constantly make advances at you and since you would have his head, he disciplined them only once you were out of range.

And you were equally irate. He treated you like a child when you tried to present him with research that aggression towards children under the age of 18 was just as detrimental as ignoring their bad behavior. You weren't against addressing the students inappropriate behavior, but the number of visits to your office had tripled upon his arrival.

It become rare that schools had a nurse on campus, barely coming back in to practice following the hands off policy. And at the most part you were mainly treating the faculty and the more unlucky students. If the Ministry of Education wanted to bring in people like Na, would you even have a job much longer?

/

"What are you doing here? I'm not harboring any students," You hissed as the warden entered your office.

"If I remember correctly, I'm here to oversee the whole school. That includes you. Besides I actually need medical help."

Hwajin turned the lock on the door before unbuttoning his shirt. He turned around to show you a shallow hole between his shoulder blades. You tried to keep the blush from creeping on to your face as you scanned his muscular body.

Apparently a student surprised him by sinking a pencil into his skin.

"Violence breeds violence," You chided when the realization hit. "Oh god, did you kill the student?"

You were truly alarmed. He took slight offense to that question. He wasn't a great guy but he wasn't going to kill someone on the job.

"Just give me something to bandage this up," he rolled his eyes.

You motioned for him to sit on the medical table but of course he had to make things difficult, choosing to straddle a chair instead. In spite of his protests that he could take care of things himself you pulled on a pair of gloves.

"Don't be such a pain, Mr. Na. There's no way you can properly clean what's on your back."

You probed around the wound that was already angry and red. The blood has begun to dry. Trying not to cause unnecessary pain you attempted to visually assess the bed of the wound for any debris that may lead to infection.

Instinctively he howled in pain as you began to clean.

"Will you just put a bandaid over it so I can get back to my job?"

You had to admit you were getting some sick satisfaction from this. The wound was clean and you applied an anti bacterial ointment but it was in a location where the skin tended to pull and stretch so you were sure it would bleed throughout the day-

"Are you smoking in my office?"

Hwajin gave you a cheeky grin before blowing smoke toward your face.

The nerve. In retaliation you flicked the inflamed skin while avoiding the actual wound.

"Ouch, you're cute when you get angry," Na laughed.

Your cheeks were scorching, "Okay Mr Na, you're all wrapped up. Stop by at the end of the day so I can change the bandage."

He winked while buttoning up shirt, "I knew you liked seeing me."

"Out." You hissed.

As he walked down the halls he chuckled to himself. He couldn't wait for you to submit to him.

/

Through out the day your mind wandered to Hwajin. Him sitting in front of you, shirtless and rippled with muscle. The parts of his skin left unscarred were so soft compared to his attitude. You wondered if his palms were as soft or were they were rough and calloused.

As if on cue the man walked into your office, catching you during one of your fantasies. Was it already the end of the day? Sure enough, the clock showed school let out half an hour ago.

Just like before he secured the door and stripped off his shirt. The bandage wasn't soaked, but it did need to be changed. The day warped your work and some of the tape was lifted away from his skin.

This time politely in the chair, he hummed as you removed and replaced the soiled bandage.

"Starting tomorrow you should just leave it open to air. This is really just to keep you getting your blood on your shirt. If you start thinking you have an infection go to the hospital." You turned around to discard your gloves.

As you turned back, you bumped into Hwajin Na. He smiled down at you and ruffled your hair, "Thanks, nurse, you took such good care of me. You'll have to let me thank you."

He lowered his mouth to your whisper in your ear, "what should I do for you?"

Your were in a losing position, you didn't want to make eye contact but you couldn't stare straight ahead, he still wasn't dressed and it was too overwhelming. You settled on looking down toward his feet.

You quickly snapped your eyes back up when you notice a bulge trying to push past his pants.

"Uh, no need to thank me. It's my job." You stepped back against the wall, at least giving you a bit more space.

Hwajin placed his arms against the wall so he could close the space between you.

"What's wrong? You're flushed. Let's see if you have a fever." He pressed forehead against your. "You feel a bit warm, but not worrisome."

You stammered, "Uh, Mr Na, it's late so we should probably wrap up."

"Mr Na," he mocked you. "Why do you do that? We're both adults, you can call me Hwajin."

Your eyes darted around the room. Maybe you were being punked. Was he testing you?

"It's respectful, it would be rude to call you by your first name."

He brushed a stand of hair behind your shoulder, pleased with your response.

"Well I can think of other titles you could call me that I would enjoy much more."

You were struggling between your desire and your fear of losing your job. Surely he knew what he was doing to you.

Of course he knew, the gleam in his eyes made that clear.

"Well, it's pretty late and I don't know about you but I'm tired after today so I'll see you tomorrow."

He dropped his hands and you took that as the end of his teasing. But instead he hoisted you against him, grasping the back of your thighs.

"My poor little nurse, I've kept you so busy. How about you lay down and let me help you relax."

"Hwajin, put me down," You smacked his shoulder. Listening, he sat you down the cot you constantly sanitized. In spite of what you were saying you allowed him to crawl on top of you.

"Hmm, now you use my first name, little nurse? And here I thought you were respectful," he nipped at your ears.

You shivered.

"Well pick one," You groaned. "First, no last name, then no first name. What's left."

His tongue darted across your neck while began tearing at your clothes, "how about you just be a good girl and call me 'Sir'."

At this point the primal part of your brain took over as you pathetically began to rub against his thigh. Your Irrational brain didn't need a job, it just needed this man to fuck her.

Nearly all your clothes were discarded to the floor as his mouth began to tease your breasts. Your hand tangled in his hair when sink his teeth into your tender flesh.

"Talk to me baby," he sighed. "Use your words, ask for what you want."

You lay out a whimper and tugged at belt loops, "fuck me."

He pinched your in thigh, "Now that's not using your manners. Am I going to need to teach you to behave?"

You mumbled a response that he could barely hear, eliciting another pinch to your thigh.

You huffed, "fine, please fuck me, Sir"

Pleased with your response he tugged your panties to the side, stroking your soaked pussy with his middle knuckle.

"Atta girl. You're so fucking wet for me. How long have you been waiting to be my little slut?"

He slid one finger inside of you with ease, arching you back as moved inside you. You were trying to fumble at his the button of his pants but he pushed your hands off him.

With a growl he removed his hands and your underwear from your body, "Not yet, although I'm flattered how desperate you are for me. Turn over, ass in the air, show me what's mine."

You were happy to obey, sliding into one of your favorite positions.

"You're not be very nice, sir," You teased. "You could at least remove your pants."

His hands came down hard on your ass causing you to cry out in pain and pleasure.

"Watch what you say, unless you like being disciplined. You already know I don't tolerate disobedience. And as much as enjoy your screams, don't forget that just because school is over doesn't mean everyone is gone."

You bite your tongue as he spanked you again. He certainly wasn't holding back. But he was right, there were after school clubs and some teachers stayed as late as 8. His fingers found their way inside your warmth again, fluid dripping from your aching cunt. You had adjust to his rhythm of spanking when his fingers were at their deepest. You felt so close to release. When he withdrew from you yet again.

You let out a frustrated groan until his hand made firm contact with your pussy. Once, twice, three times produce a wet spanking sound. You couldn't hold in your tears, thankful you were a glutton for pain.

"You still with me, princess?" He cooed, getting off the bed. You nodded. "Good girl, hold that position for me just a bit longer."

You nodded again, words evading your mind. You appreciated the coolness produced by the cot. Hwajin repositioned the pillow that had fallen on the floor and removed his belt.

Standing next to you on the bed he finally directed you into another position. He helped you stand, barefoot on the linoleum floor. You were held against his chest as you gathered your bearings.

He nuzzled against your hair, "I'm not a gentle man, if you need to stop at any time you say so okay. And that's an order. Can you do that for me princess?"

You told him you would as he helped you sink your knees to the pillow. He ruffled your hair again, telling you how good you looked. Finally he unzipped his pants, his erect dick right in front of you.

"Look at me."

You complied, tearing your ways away from his cock.

"If you want my dick then prove it. Open up that pretty mouth of yours."

He grabbed you by the hair, guiding your lips his shiny tip. Your tongue circled around him, admiring his taste. You weren't usually self conscious but you couldn't help but be nervous you'd disappoint him. As you began wrap your lips around him, Hwajin inhaled sharply. He gave your hair a gentle tug.

"Eyes on me. Good. You're doing so well. All the way to the base, baby."

You were almost there when there was a knock at your door. Hwajin kept his grip firm on you, instead of allowing you to pull back he shoved his throbbing dick down your throat and began fucking your mouth while putting a finger to his lips. He was smirking like the devil. Your throat constricting in protest.

"Excuse me, nurse," one of the school kids called. Knocking again.

"Fuck," Na muttered as he released into your mouth. Tears spilled over your eyes as you struggled to swallow.

The nock persisted, "hellooo? Come on I need to pick up a physical form."

"She's busy, fuck off."

As the footsteps faded down the hall Na released you from his grasp. He couldn't help but laugh at you when you pouted up at him, your were glistening and your cheeks were rosy and puffy. God, next time he swore he would take a photo of you on your knees after sucking his dick.

"Really, you had to open up your loud mouth," You whined. "You could've just pretended no one was here."

He shrugged in response, helping you off the floor.

This time on the cot you were both undressed. Hwajin sucked and bite on your neck. You nudged him off telling him he was gonna leave a mark.

"You're telling me I can't mark up my little whore?"

"Just not where students can see."

That was fair enough, there were other places he'd rather leave bruises. Between your thighs. Your stomach. Your breasts. Proof that he had made you his.

He wouldn't bite too rough, not want to scare you off. He planned on making more of these moments with you. You were better in person. Exceeding his late night fantasies.

Finally he began to slide his cock inside you, your pussy searing with pleasure at his size. It was a struggle to control the volume of your moans.

"Does my little slut like that? You want me to stuff you?"

"Please," You cried, needing more or his touch. "Please don't stop, Sir. Please let me cum on your dick."

Hwajin began to pound harder into your tight pussy, admiring how your body reacted to the sheer force of him. Each time he snapped his hips against you, your lush breasts, along with the rest of your body, followed with an intoxicating jiggle.

You were exactly what he needed and he wished to consume you. His mind flashed to images of you tied up and exposed for him, placing all of your trust in him. Or he could snap a pretty collar around your neck and tie you to the bed with a leash, you would be begging him to fuck you like a bitch.

"Tell me need me," he growled. "That no one else can fuck you into submission and make you dumb with pleasure. Your mine and I don't share."

Tears rushed down your face as a mixture of pain and desire burst the pressure in your core. You clenched around him, babbling what he instructed you to and meaning every word.

The tightness of your orgasm shocked both you and Hwajin. Paired along with your heat pushed the man past his limit, releasing his thick cum inside of you. Even through the near blinding pleasure of his own release Hwajin felt a moment of worry, he hadn't meant to pour himself inside of you, he was fully aware he wasn't wearing protect and had gotten your consent.

Between your gasps and moans you were were repeating a breathy thank you. Unless he had died and gone to Heaven You were actually begging him for more of his seed. Crying out that you needed him to stuff you full. The man nearly confessed his love for you on the spot.

However he maintained his composure. Pressing closer to you and guiding you through the high of your orgasm.

He combed his fingers through your hair, whispering praises and reassurance. Telling you to relax into him, he wasn't going anywhere. Finally your grip on him relaxed as a gluttonous smile graced your lips.

Na propped himself up next to you with his elbow. His other hand cupping your face.

You looked at Hwajin, "This doesn't mean I'm going to ignore your behavior towards the students."

"You know, seeing you protective over a bunch of snot nosed punks makes me want to fuck you until your nine months pregnant. It would keep you out of my hair while you were stuck waddling around home safe and sound. Win-win."

You gawked at him. Joking that you had yet to see any paternal instincts from him.

"I am actually great with children so long as their raised right. Like hell I'd let my kids turn out like these delinquents."

The two of you bantered back and forth while re-dressing. It was dark by the time you exited the school. Na was lighting a cigarette the minute he was past the schools threshold. You began to tell him goodnight where the two of you should naturally part ways but Hwajin caught you by the wrist, a confused expression thrown your way.

“Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you yet," he said, cigarette hanging from his mouth. You were about to respond when he cut you off. "Round two will be so much better in my bed. You'll be lucky if You leave my place in time for work tomorrow. But we should probably feed you first. I gotta take care of my little nurse."

[internalsealpanic]

Sealing the Deal part 1

Summary: Always, always be nice to sea creatures but never ever accept their pelt.

  A/n: A fic I’ve been meaning to write since forever. My contribution to mermay.

  warning: Disgusting fluff and bad decisions

Main Masterlist

part 2

You look like you're gonna die from boredom in your little fishing boat. 

 Dick rolls over to where Jason was sprawled and used his momentum to push the larger seal into the water. Jason gives an undignified squawk of outrage. Dick just preens and looks smug. 

 You cup your hand over your mouth as you begin to laugh. 

 Jason glares even harder at Dick. Dick... couldn't care even less if he tried. All he can focus on is the wrinkle in the corners of your eyes. They'd been gone for so long these past few months. It felt like the first ray of sun after a long storm.

 Dick claps his fins in excitement even as Jason snuffs and rolls his eyes. You clap in return but accidentally drop your fishing pole into the sea. Reaching for it, you fall into the water. Dick feels a little bad for laughing but you manage to get yourself back up into the boat safely.  You sigh in defeat as your fishing pole drifts away. Dick notices for the first time that your face has grown gaunt from the last few weeks. Are you eating enough? Are you even taking care of yourself? Dick swims over to your boat as it rocks back and forth on the waves. He hops in easily and plops onto your stomach. You laugh and pet his head. It was a weak laugh so he croons at you in question. 

 “Sorry pup, I don’t have any food for you today. I mean I don’t even have any for me.” Despite the sweet timbre of your voice, Dick can still taste the bitter hopelessness in the statement. 

He nuzzles his face into your chest. He can feel just how thin you’ve gotten. He has to do something about this. 

To say Dick had been afraid of humans would be a monumental understatement. It had been around 200 years since humans had left the island and the first thing they did when they came back was hunt down selkies. Dick's parents had been two of the unlucky few who'd been hunted down.

 So when Dick found himself stranded onshore because of a fin tangled in a fishing line, he thought he was a goner. And when he saw you approaching; well, he still thought he was fucked but he thought you'd at least be nicer than the adults.

 Maybe if he acts cute enough you'll spare him. 

 Dick whimpered and he gave you the big innocent look. 

 You shushed him harshly. Dick flinched then you flinched and muttered apologies.

 You approached him slowly. You looked around before crouching and fiddling with the line Dick had managed to get himself caught in. Carefully, you began to disentangle him. It hurt, especially when you took the hook out, but once he was free. He clapped and trilled before you shushed him again.

 Dick thought that it was all over and he could just roll back into the sea until you scoop him up and swaddle him in your shirt.

 After 10 minutes of your father screaming at you, he agreed to treat Dick who knew better than to snap at him. Your father was kind with gentle hands. He worked on Dick while you fed him fish. It wasn't the best fish but  Dick can't complain. 

 After an hour or so, Dick started to wriggle and you pull him closer to your chest. 

 "Dad, can we keep him for a few days? He might still be sick." You plead with big eyes. 

 Your father glared at you then sighed. "No more than two. His wounds just need to close up, understand?"

 You squealed a little. Hugging Dick tighter, you thanked your father before scampering off to find you a basin to put Dick in. You, thankfully, had the good sense to fill it with lukewarm water.

 Dick lived like a king in those two days. You fed him a lot of fish much to your dad's exasperation. You kept him warm. You even read to him and sang songs to him. 

 Dick wanted to stay but he missed Bruce, Alfred, Damian, and maybe that new kid Jason.

On the fourth day (one of the wounds was deeper than expected), Dick was released back into the sea but he never did manage to stay away after that

Dick sets the odd little trinket down in front of Jason's sleeping form. It was something you'd caught in your net days before along with the meager amount of fish you'd managed to net. You'd busied yourself with it for days before throwing it out. Dick wasn't sure what it was; all he knew was that it was something Jason would like. 

 He waits semi patiently for Jason to notice it, nudging it forward a little until it touches Jason's snout and the larger seal is forced to pay attention to Dick. 

 "I know when I'm being bribed, Dickface." Jason says, glaring. 

 Dick volleys it with a wide-eyed hopeful look. He nudges the little trinket forward again. This time, instead of ignoring him, Jason rises to his full height, teeth bared. This... does not faze Dick. 

 "C'mon Jaaaaaaay," Dick says as if the prolonging of syllables would whittle down Jason's irritation. Jason suspects if he were less inclined to tell Dick to fuck off, it would have worked. Probably. But as it stands, Dick is responsible for ruining a very good, very rare nap for Jason and so he's on the shit list and has lost any favor privileges until further notice. 

 "I said no. Go away or ask Bruce."

 "But Jaaaaaaay, it's just a teensy tiny favor. It won't even take an hour. Not with your skill at least."

 "That kind of flattery may work on Harper and it may even work on West but I'm not an idiot about to get involved with whatever shenanigans you have planned with the human."

Dick lets out a long-suffering sigh. Jason isn't stupid enough to think that Dick has actually given up. No, the stubborn little fuck is worse than a barnacle. "You've left me no choice-"

 "I have given you plenty of choices. Most of them involve minding your own goddamn business." Jason says with a little snuff. 

 "-I'm calling it in."

 Jason narrows his eyes at Dick.

 "Don't you dare. That was 5 years ago."

 Dick smiles, evilly. "Unless you want the rest of the family to know about-" 

 "Fine! What do you want?"

 Dick looks smug. Jason wants to bite his face off. 

 "I need you to help me catch fish."

 Jason looks at him, incredulous. "Did you hit your head or something?"

 "Not recently. Look, I just need you to help me catch fish for the human." Dick explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Contrary to what Dick seems to think, Jason really isn't concerned with the one human on the island. Most of the selkies on the island have barely even interacted with you outside of staring at you.

 "You're insane."

 "I think we reserve that term for Bruce." 

 Jason raises his head from the ground. "You're not wrong."

   You think you hear the light pitter-patter of raindrops. You sigh. You would be lying if you say you aren't the least bit thankful for the excuse to stay indoors today. You... don't exactly like foraging for food. You had avoided it for as long as you had food in the lighthouse. You thought it would at least last you 'til the ships came in but whatever is going on in the mainland has kept the ships from your shores. You don't mind. You never did find the sailors all that pleasant on the rare occasions that you did have to interact with them. 

 You like your island the way it is but... you're not exactly the most skilled at hunting... or fishing. You have no idea how your father did it. You chucked it up to the miracles of loaves and fishes. You miss him.

 You curl around your pillow in a vain attempt to chase the wakefulness away but the sun in your eyes was too bright. You flutter your eyes open. The sun had the audacity to be there. Still the splushing sound continued. 

 You strain your ears to listen, trying to make heads or tails of it. It was a squishy sound, the sound of putty hitting stone over and over again. You scramble to the front door. In hindsight, you probably should have grabbed a weapon before running towards the strange sound. 

 Opening the door, you're greeted with the sight of a familiar seal caught red-handed with a fish in his mouth.

 You stare at each other for a long moment before your eyes wander down to a pile of fish. A large amount of fish. Laughter rolls from your lips, musical and manic as you bury your face in your hands.

You think the seal furrows his brow at you, dropping the fish in its mouth before plopping towards you. Plop. Plop. Plop. He looks at you with big dark eyes. Your mouth twitches between curling down into a frown and a smile that spread across your face. On one hand, you are confused. On the other hand, you were gonna be able eat some meat. 

 A concerned croon comes from the pup and your face decides that it would rather smile at the moment. You throw your arms around him, not at all caring about the seawater getting on your nightclothes.

 "Thank you." You whisper and the seal answers with a happy trill.

 Dick is over the moon. 

 He can't even help how loud his trills get. It's ok you don't seem to mind either. He's just happy that you get to eat now.... but you don't. 

 Dick's a little frustrated when you don't immediately start digging in. Instead, you go back inside your home, swear, shout in delight then come back out with a basin and a jar of white powder. You then run around to fill the basin with seawater then add what Dick finds out is salt into the seawater. 

 Dick is... concerned. 

 You go back inside the house. When you come out again, you have a knife in your hand. Dick waddles back a bit. He knows you won't hurt him but it's a habit. You develop these kinds of habits around Bruce. 

 You settle yourself onto the ground cross-legged and grab a fish. Dick looks on with mild curiosity. You begin to dismember the fish by cutting off it's head, cutting it up in the middle then removing the bones and stomach. That kind of makes sense, Dick thinks. The bones are kind of annoying. Dick nods his head agreeably until you toss the fish into the basin.

 Dick looks on in utter confusion as you repeat the process with most of the fish he's brought you. 

 You turn to him looking equally befuddled before your eyes soften. You look sheepish. "Sorry pup, I can't eat all of this today so I'm salting them so I can eat them the next few..." You count the fish in the basin. "... weeks."

 Dick tilts his head but doesn't say anything. You really should just eat more. Dick can get you more if you need it. You just need to ask but you seem content with what you're doing. 

Dick is about to rest his head on your lap when you shoot up and scuttle back inside. You return with a line and a smile. Dick watches you string the fish up like laundry. He could probably help you but he has no clue if he should. Just eat the fish damn it.

Finally after what felt like forever, you start preparing the fish and actually eat. You offer Dick some and Dick has to admit cooking the fish does taste odd but not unpleasant. It's totally different from eating it raw (the better way) but it's not horrible. Or maybe it just tastes good because you've got the biggest grin on your face while eating.

Maybe.

 Probably, Dick thinks as he munches on his fish, pressed to your side.

___

 You sing at the top of your voice. It's a cheerful song but Dick can't quite make out the words. He knows it's human but he's not quite familiar with it. The tune is nice though. Dick rests his head on your lap closing his eyes.

 He croons happily when you being to pet him.

 You stop midway through the song dissolving into a fit, of what Dick can only describe as, giggles snorts. It was a despicably adorable sound that was engineered to make Dick feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

 He looks up at you with big curious black eyes. He's not complaining but he hasn't heard you laugh this much before and he may or may not want to know how to make you laugh like this again.

 When you don't answer his questioning gaze, Dick nudges against your chest. Your shoulders are still shaking but you manage to stop laughing for a moment. 

 "Sorry pup," you say wiping a tear from your eye, "I must look crazy to you. "

 A little but not as bad as Bruce, Dick thinks. Bruce thinks you humans still don't know there are selkies on the island. Dick snorts at the idea. Everyone knows that all you humans know about selkies. That's why those men keep coming here trying to trap them. 

 You squish his face affectionately with your hands. "My dad taught me that song and  I just realized..." Your mouth turns into a curved line of held back laughter. "...It's a sea shanty about missing being between a woman's legs." The last few words come out more as giggles than proper syllables but Dick can't enjoy that because he can feel his face warm up from the thought. He hides his face in his flippers. 

 You squeal, absolutely delighted with his mortification. Smiling down at him, you say: "Yanno pup, sometimes I think you understand me."

 Thought process-wise, no.

 Dick snuggles up to you again, blowing air out of his nose to voice his ascent. You can't just say things like that but again, you just simply seem amused by his suffering when you bend down to press a kiss to the top of his head. 

 Dick looks up when you pull away. No! Give him more!

 Dick stretches up to return the favor, having to partially climb on your lap but only managing to boop your nose with his snout. You nuzzle your nose against his and Dick makes the happiest noise in the back of his throat.

   Sometimes after wandering around you had a habit of falling asleep on the shore which Dick thought was fine until he found out that you couldn't swim. Dick being the only with brains in this duo always nudges you awake when the tide starts getting too close. Dick doubts the lapping water will wake you up before sweeping you away. After all, you managed to sleep through Tim, Kon, and Bart's rock piling contest on top of you. Dick shooed them away but even after cleaning up, you didn't wake up.

 Dick sees the sailors on the shore and nudges you. You... don't even blink. You hum, content to bask in the sun as you wrap your arms around Dick. Dick huffs. He likes this but he really would prefer it if you move. Dick considers slipping from your grip and grabbing a fish to slap you with like last time.

 Dick cranes his head to look at the ship again. It was far too close now, too close for you to get away without being seen by the sailors. 

 Dick turns you back over to your back and proceeds to body slam you with all his blubber. He winces when you make a choked noise. Dick can give you apology fish later. 

 "Pup, what the fuck?"

 You see the ship. Your eyes widen then flicker to his injured fin. Dick had injured it when he’d been swimming by the docks and got caught in one of the old traps. You’ve done your best to help it heal but you only know so much. You’re still reading up on herbs in case it happens again.  

 You try in vain to push him off but he's a big loveable sack of blubber and he refuses to move.  “C’mon pup, you need to move. They’ll try to catch you if they see you.” You grunt but the sack of blubber refuses to move. 

 You and Dick stay still as the ship draws near, neither of your chests rises or fall as the ship rocks back and forth.

The ship passes and you let your head fall back with a sigh. 

 Dick nuzzles his snout against your face, his whiskers tickling your face. You giggle and try to push him off. It’s useless so you let him stay there. 

 You both decide to take a nap on the shore with Dick huffing in your face once in a while as he snores. 

You curl up on the floor in front of the fire, watching the embers flicker, flash, and fade. It's the best thing you can do to calm your fraying nerves. The storm rages outside violently as if it was trying to tear the lighthouse down brick by brick. The whole building shakes with another boom of thunder. You close your eyes and burrow under the thick blanket. 

 In the back of your mind, your father is chuckling. The absence of a hand on your head is disconcerting. You remind yourself that it won't come, that you'll have to learn to weather the storm alone. You sigh then tighten the blanket around you.

Tok. Tok. Tok. 

 You blink. The fire was dying. When had you fallen asleep? 

 Tok, tok, tok. 

 Blinking, you rub the sleep from your eyes, but the haze doesn’t lift, only growing as you watch the firelight.  

 Tok tok tok. 

 You shoot up and barrel towards the door with the frantic knocking growing louder and louder as your feet pound against the stone floor.  

 You run into the door in your haste. The loud thud of your body against the door causes the frantic knocks to turn into muffled shouting.

 Prying yourself from the door, you open it and you don't know what you expected but this wasn't it.

 Standing in front of you was a man soaked like a wet rat. You blink in confusion before pulling him inside. You run to grab him a blanket. Wait. You should probably get him a towel. No, wait. You should have gotten his name first. Fuck. 

 You shuffle back into the room with a towel, spare clothes, and an extra blanket. You.. what can generously be called a heart attack. 

 For the first time, in the soft glow of the fire, you can fully admire your guest. Not see, admire because there was a lot to admire.

 The light of the fire flicking over the planes of his chest, with a light dusting of chest hair, the amber glow highlighting all the muscles of his body, framing the ripples of his toned figure. Swallowing any good sense you have, you watch the rainwater turn golden as it drips down his perfectly bronzed skin. The water cuts through valleys of muscle that could have only been handcrafted by gods. Your eyes follow the flow until... Oh.

 You flush furiously, your face glowing brighter than the fire. He's- He's- Oh my god, he's naked. 

 You reign your eyes in. Ok, you let it linger down there a bit. Not long enough for your guest to notice. You concentrate on his face which wasn't hard to do. The man pushes his raven hair out of his face letting you fully appreciate his face. In keeping with his body, his fine boned face looked like Pygmalion himself spent hours shaping it, not satisfied until he's made the perfect face. It's handsome in an adorable way. Not intimidating. It's the kind of face you'd like to pepper with kisses. You try not to focus on his lips in case of any sinful thoughts. You just met the man. The only thing you will note is that yes, his lips do look absolutely kissable and it aggravates you. 

 The most striking feature however are his deep blue eyes. The kind of deep that you feel like you could drown in. The kind of depth that looked too pretty to agonize over the fact that your lungs are burning. You stare, trying to carve a perfect replica of those eyes into your mind. Those eyes... that are currently staring at you... as he steps closer... at an alarming speed.

 You hold the stack of fabric in front of you like a shield. Your guest stops, looking at the stack. His face goes from concern to confusion to blinding enthusiasm. He was probably freezing.

 A smile spreads on his face, the cutest dimples you've ever seen forming on his cheeks, as he accepts the stack. He thanks you and your heart leaps from your chest. Whatever chill you were experiencing from the storm was completely gone. You turn away from him, rubbing the back of your neck and mumbling a halfway point between 'no problem' and 'you're welcome'. You hope it came out as 'no welcome' instead of  'your problem'.

 The man snorts and you are pretty sure which one came out. To save yourself the embarrassment, you walk to the kitchen and start preparing tea. The man thankfully occupies himself by looking at the assortment of knick-knacks you've hoarded gathered over the years. It gives you ample time to breathe.

 "Do you like sugar in your tea?"

 The man nods enthusiastically. You can't help but smile a little. 

 You sit next to him in front of the fireplace as you hand him his mug. He leans his head against your shoulder. You can feel his body radiating a comforting heat. 

 You two sit in silence, sipping tea and watching the fire flicker. You wanna scold him for slurping his tea. You're not exactly his mother. You don't even know his name. 

 You turn to him, face scrunched and about to ask him for his name when he surges forward. His lips brush against your lips as he nudges his nose against yours. You fall backward in shock and the stranger falls on top of you, his eyes still glowing bright and cool against the amber light.

 There's a thrill working up your spine or is it fear? You squeeze your eyes shut and throw your arms over your face. 

 "Please don't hurt me." You plead barely above a whisper. 

 You feel the body above you lower itself on top of you. He chuckles and shakes his head. "(Y/n), you're being silly."

 You open your eyes. The man is laying his body on top of you keeping you pinned down and he's... pouting at you?

 "I- I don't know who you are. You can take what you want but please don't hurt me."

 The pout deepens into a frown.

 "(Y/n), I'm not gonna hurt you. Don't you recognize me?" 

 You blink. You would definitely remember someone this eye-catching.  "You always sing that sea shanty to me. The one about the sailor who misses his wife's..." The stranger flushes and makes a hand gesture. Your face scrunches again. The only person you've sung that to aside from your dad is...

 "Pup?!"

 His frown morphs back into a pout. "I'm not even that little."

 You squish his face with your hands before you let your mind wander. You think back to the scars crisscrossing his limbs and chest.  "How is this possible?"

 He laughs, prying your hands from his face. "I'm a selkie," He says as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "My name is also Dick, not pup."

 You stare up at him wide-eyed and stupefied. Dick snuggles against you like he always does. Somehow snuggling you in this form is better. He can hold you closer like this. You run your hand through his hair, fingers lacing through the tangles in his hair. He lets out an excited trill. 

 Dick might just be in heaven right now. 

 "I dunno how but you're somehow even prettier when I look at you in this form," Dick breathes contently. "I'm so lucky to have such a pretty wife."

 You stiffen. Dick looks up at you and the confusion in your face wrenches a knife in his heart. He swallows. "That is what you meant with this, right?" Dick asks, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Your mouth turns into various shapes trying to piece together a coherent response. It settles on the simplest one. "No."

 Dick looks stricken like you'd taken a club to his head. 

 You reel back. "I just- I- I thought you were cold and you-"

 Dick's heartaches. It's a dull ache. He thought this kind of thing would be sharp like having a hook pierce your heart.

 His insides twist as he peels of you. 

 Your stomach sinks as you feel the cold fill your body once more. You don’t want him to go. The thought of being alone right now makes your stomach curdle. Your hands grip his shirt without meaning to. The look on his face hurts but the idea of him leaving felt unbearable. You know it's selfish but here you are begging him not to leave. 

 "Dick, I'm sorry... I didn't know... I-" 

 Thunder booms. You squeak and bury your face in his chest. You can't stand storms.

 Dick smiles down at you softly. It's still pained but it's bearable.

 He lays on his side and pulls you closer. He slots your face into his neck. You're still shivering even when he uses his body to shield you from the rest of the world.

 You whisper another apology.

 Dick shushes you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The sunlight floods into the room like it does every morning but the room is still cold. Your mind works to understand what's wrong with this picture. Your hand pads beside you. The space next to you is empty save for the blanket left behind.

 You sniffle, gripping the sheet in your hand. You messed up, you think, pulling it to your face. For the first time in months, the tears come easily. You lay there all day because the tears won't stop.

   "If you sigh one more time, I am going to rip your throat out." Jason growls not bothering to open his eyes. Why would he? Dick has been flat and mopey for the past two weeks and Jason is really starting to miss his hyperactivity. 

 Dick lets out another mopey sigh. Jason. Is. Going. To. Scream. 

 "Can't you be depressing in Roy's direction? Or Bruce's?" 

 Dick sighs even louder at the mention of Bruce and Jason, for once, is considering murder or at least maiming. 

 "She doesn't love me back."Dick sniffles and Jason really should have known this had something to do with you. 

 He turns to Dick. "I'm going to regret asking but how do you know that?" The sooner he sorts Dick out, the sooner he gets to sleep. "Did she tell you to go away and never come back?"

 "Well no-"

 It's Jason's turn to sigh. "You fucking moron, What did she even say?"

 "She said she didn't know." Dick lowers his head to the sand and Jason wants to slap him with his tail. 

 Jason is now fully awake and very ready to throttle Dick. Or he's just cranky. "Are you telling me Bruce was right?! This day just keeps getting worse."

 Something seems to click in Dick's brain. "Oh, crap Bruce is right." He mutters stupidly. 

Jason will take whatever consolation he can get out of this. "She probably thought you were just some random pervert flashing her then." Jason snickers. It's petty and childish but so is interrupting a well-deserved nap.

 "What?"

 Jason lets out an exasperated huff through his snout. He twists his body to look at Dick with minimal effort to lift his head.  "Let's see, you turned up naked at her door and then you called her your wife and nearly kissed her in what?  The space of 15 minutes?"

 "I got confused." Dick sputters. 

"Geez, I thought West was bad but you're just a disaster," Jason chuckles, "Oh! And you made the brilliant decision to leave without explanation," Jason is having far too much fun rubbing salt in the wound.  "She probably feels terrible”.

 "Are you guilt-tripping me?"

 "Is it working?"

 "What-" Dick growls. "Well, what do you want me to do?"

 "Hmmmmm, have you tried talking? Yanno the thing Bruce never does. But seriously, I can’t believe you call her your wife and then abandon her." Jason shakes his head. "And you have the audacity to call yourself the smart one."

 Dick strips out of his skin and begins running towards the lighthouse... naked.

 Jason debates on letting him.... he probably shouldn't.

"Dickface!" Jason calls out. 

 Dick doesn't stop, face crumpled in determination and his little Richard swinging wildly as he walks. 

 Jason is gonna die of second-hand embarrassment. 

 "DICKFACE!"

 "What?!" Dick asks turning around his hands on his hips. Like usual, his hip tilts to the side and his foot taps as he waits expectantly for Jason to gather a mildly coherent response. 

 "Your little Richard..." Jason says pointing with his fin.

 Dick looks down and the look of mortification on his face is satisfactory. ".... Right. Shit."

 "Just steal some from her laundry."

  "But she'll be pissed."

 "Ok, so you would rather flash her then?"

 Dick sighs and this time Jason doesn't have the urge to throttle him only because Dick is already beating his own ego into a pulp. "I hate it when you make sense."

 Jason raises a brow, setting his head back down to the warm sand.  "I always make sense."

 Dick just cackles in response as he heads to the lighthouse.

Dick shifts his weight on the balls of his feet. He feels sick like he'd eaten one of those pickled fish you made him one time.  Maybe this was a bad idea. Why did he even listen to Jason? He flips onto his hands and begins to pace.  His stomach feels like it's being tossed violently by ocean currents. It feels like a shapeless lump sitting in the pit of his abdomen. Maybe you're out or maybe you never wanna see him again.

 Your face had been so blown wide with shock when he had called you wife that it looked almost foreign like the suggestion had been so audacious that your face had to reconstruct itself to accommodate the shock. 

 Dick puts a hand to his face trying to stem the flow of thought. He was such an idiot. Why did he assume you would love him like that and why did he just leave you? Dick closes his eyes and breathes. He'll knock just once more then leave if you don't answer.

 Tok.   Tok.   Tok. 

 The knocks register just above a whisper. He thinks you don't hear it. 

 He lets out a breath and walks away. This was stupid. He should never have come back. 

 Jason was right. Fuck. Dick buries his face as he walks away.

 Distantly, Dick hears the squeak of rusty hinges but it's lost in the tempest of thoughts plaguing his mind, in all the little hurts from that night. 

 "Pup?" The sound of your voice is followed by the pounding of your feet against stand. Dick's careening to the ground before he knows it as your body collides with his. 

  "Pup," you sniffle into his shirt, "it is you." 

 Dick twist in your grip so he's facing you. Your face is buried in his shirt. He strokes your hair, wrapping an arm around you, holding you tight. "Of course, it’s me. Who else would bug you at this hour?"

 Dick feels his shirt grow warm. You mumble an apology.

You look up to face Dick with half your face still buried in his shirt. You've clearly been crying based on how red and puffy your eyes are.  Dick's stomach churns at the dark circles under your eyes. He feels guilt stab him in the gut.  All of that combined with your generally disheveled appearance. Dick can just tell that you haven't slept well the last few days. 

 "Let's go inside and talk." You say, peeling yourself off of him. 

 Dick shakes his head, not loosening his grip on your midsection. "Let's walk around you look like you need some sun."

 You flushed and put a hand to your cheek. "Do I look that bad?" You ask absently, a shy smile creeping into your features. 

 Dick smiles at you and pushes your hair out of your face. "Never but the weather is sunny for once and we both need some air."

"So you really didn't know that the island was filled with selkies?" Dick asks, adjusting the infernal scarf you had forced him into. He insisted that he didn't need it. He could just cuddle up to you for warmth but you were equally stubborn about him wearing a coat and the wool monstrosity strangling him. 

 Your face scrunches up in confusion." I- I don't even know what that is."

 Dick stops.

 You slow down upon realizing he wasn't by your side anymore. "You... don't know what a selkie is?" He asks, his face the definition of dumbstruck. 

 You shrink into your coat." My dad wasn't interested in things like that," you shrug, "I dunno much about..." Your hand twists in a circle, reaching for the right words. 

 Dick tilts his head. That made sense. "You thought we were all just seals?"

 You nod slowly, looking like you wanna shrivel up. 

 Dick starts laughing and you look like you're a second away from throwing yourself into the water. 

 "I'm sorry," he says, flailing. He's screwing this up again. He breathes to collect himself. "I just thought it's funny that we all thought my dad was wrong about you guys not knowing."

 You rub the back of your neck. "Most of us mainlanders don't really believe in magic, yanno? It's just such a foreign concept. Kind of hard to wrap my head around it."

 "I get that." The smile on his face makes your gut twist. You fiddle with your hands. 

 "So what are selkies?"

 Dick tilts his head, not exactly sure of how to word it because how do you explain something that's been obvious to you since you can remember to someone who just found out about it a few weeks ago?

 "We're fae, I guess-" Your face twists in confusion.

 Dick needs to backtrack. "We're fae..." This is hard. "We have this human form and we have our seal forms. We switch between them using our pelt."

 Your brow knits in confusion. "Which one is your true form then?" 

 Dick wraps his arm around your waist and holds you closer as you walk along the cliff tops. He hums as he thinks. "Both?" 

 You look up at him with a weary smile. “That makes sense in a way.” You hum.  Swallowing thickly, you fiddle with your hands. "So what was with the... um..." You clear your throat. "What was with the wife thing?"

 Dick’s mouth dries.  “Well... when we want to ask someone to be our mate... we- we kind of give them our pelt and I thought it translated to human clothes…” He stammers out dumbly. 

 “Oh...oh!” Your eyes widen into a look of horror. You open and close your mouth trying to form words. “Dick, I didn’t realize , that must have - I’m sorry I hurt you.” 

 “Please don’t apologize,” Dick says and presses his lips to the top of your head.  His lips are warm and comforting. “I’ve spent so long in love with you my brain just didn’t...” Dick’s mouth twists. “It just didn’t do what it was supposed to.”

 You would definitely laugh at that last part but you’re still seeing stars from the startling confession he just hit you with. You snuggle tighter into his embrace as you look over the sea. You don’t know how to respond. You really don’t and it frustrates you. It was all just a lot to take in all at once like you’d been tossed into the sea and you’re flailing and grasping at water. 

 But if nothing else, you’re at least glad that Dick is still talking to you. 

 “If you don't mind…” Dick says carefully, the look in his eyes determined. “Would it be alright if I try and pursue you properly?” Dick braces for a no. He’s not dumb enough to be hopeful twice but he needs to ask. 

 Inevitably, you freeze. You pull his arm closer to your chest. Swallowing, you ask: “you mean like a human courtship?”

 He nods closing his eyes.  “Yes, I want to court you.” He coughs clearing his throat.

 You’re silent for what felt like the longest 30 seconds of Dick’s life. Dick cracks one eye to see you fiddling with your hair. “Uh Dick, there’s this one problem that might make that difficult…” Dick raises a brow. It wasn’t an outright rejection but it wasn’t an answer. 

 “I don't know how that works either.” You laugh nervously, burying your face in his arm. 

 “Good - then we don’t know if I’m doing it badly.” Dick beams with a blinding smile.

 You twist to look at him, the corners of your mouth twitching. “That sounds like cheating.”

 Dick snorts, “would you rather I court you the selkie way?”

 “I mean it depends. What's the selkie way?”

 “Fish.”

 Dick startles when you let out a loud bark of laughter. “Fish? You’ve already done that so many times.” You giggle.  Dick tries to wrangle his mind away from the fact that he can feel your lips through the thin fabric of the sweater. 

 “I thought it worked.” Dick sighs. He really did, but alas, miscommunication is a cruel mistress.  

 You lower your gaze trying to concentrate on the fraying needlework of his sweater. “Maybe it has.” You mumble low enough for a human not to hear. How unfortunate it is then that you’re dealing with a selkie. 

 Dick is beaming when you look up again. He nuzzles his face against yours. Dick is once again insanely, stupidly, incredibly happy. 

__________________________________________________________________________

Because neither of you knew what you were doing, Dick's attempts to court you ranged from ridiculous (a literal mountain of fish that you ended up drying, giving away to the other seals, and selling to passing ships.)  to ridiculously sweet (finding you handful of pearls).  Dick nudged a little shell overflowing with pearls and looked up at you with liquid eyes.  He could have gotten you pebbles and it would have been endearing.

 It wasn't always gifts though.

 Sometimes Dick would just sit quietly with you on the beach, snuggling against your leg as you scratched his stomach. You love the ways his squish vibrated as he purred. 

 When summer passed and it became unbearable to watch the stars outside, Dick sometimes spent nights in your lighthouse, wrapped up in your sheets or wrapped around you. It was nice having him around the house even if he was kind of a slob. You love him but he is a mess.

 You made the mistake of introducing him to tea cakes and got him addicted to November Cakes specifically. As it turns out, your cute pest has a sweet tooth and will nuzzle you into submission just for another bite.

 If you ever doubted that Dick was evil before, you now have proof.

 During the winter, Dick insisted on staying in the lighthouse to keep you warm. You wanted to point out that you had a fireplace for a reason but it was so hard to turn down hugs from him.

And because you hadn't had the heart to clean out your father's room yet and Dick clearly preferred it, you let Dick sleep next to you on your cot. You felt a bit bad but Dick was just so happy with the arrangement that you didn't want to make him go away. Besides, it was nice to wake up to his sleeping face in the morning, all sleep rumpled and drooling.

 __________________________________________________________________________

 "Hey Jay, do you have a book on selkies?" Dick asks, caterpillaring on the rock Jason is sunbathing on. 

 Jason takes the opportunity to roll down the rock and knock Dick into the sea before saying: "No." It shall be put on record that there are no drama queens in the Wayne family. 

 Dick shakes off the seawater, big puppy eyes staring at Jason. 

 Jason glares at him. He can't even let Jason have a second of smugness.  "Ask Selina."

 No one really knows where Selina came from or why she stayed (well, they had their suspicions), but if you need something you can't find easily, your best bet was to ask her and hope she doesn't ask you to do anything ridiculously hard.

 Dick hasn't had first hand experience but from what Bruce tells him, they're mostly silly things like recite poems or do a flip. He could do both those things. Well, depending on the poem. He gets tongue twisted sometimes. Hmmm, maybe he should ask if he can avoid tongue twisters so he won't bite his tongue.

 Sloughing off his coat, Dick walks towards the glowing cauldron. 

 "Still no clothes pup? You're going to give a poor girl a heart attack." Selina tsked, reappearing from one of the other cave entrances with a handful of things Dick can't recognize. 

 "Oh... I- I'm still not used to it." He says sheepishly. 

 Selina chuckles, dumping the handful of what Dick can assume is plant debris into the cauldron while before dusting her hands off.

 Dick stares at the thick vat. A bubble rises and bursts emitting what sounded like a human voice. "What is that? Should I be worried?"

 "Oh no, no, this? This is just a little soup for colds."

 "It screamed."

 "All soups scream."

 "I- anyway, I came here to ask if you have a book on selkies."

 Selina tilts her head to the side. "I believe I do-"

 "Great!"

 "Buuuut..."

 Of course, the price.

 "I brought pearls and some seashells." He says hopefully. 

 The angle of her head does not change. Though from the gleam in her eyes, she's clearly interested. 

 "Tell me why you need the book."

 Dick's thoughts halt. Should he tell Selina about you? His eyes dart to the boiling cauldron.  "... Why do you need to know?"

 Selina flourishes her hand. The book appears out of thin air."Do you want the book or not, pup?"

 Dick's nerves pinch. Why does everyone call him that? "I need it to teach someone Selkie customs." He manages.

 "Oh! The little lighthouse keeper!"

 "You know her?"

 Selina shrugs. "Do you really think I wouldn't know something going on about the islands nearby?" She pinches his cheek. "Oh little pup, I know about your little crush. You spend more time on land than you do in the sea these days. Dami's been all huffy about it."

 He has.

 "I've told you my reason." Dick says holding his hand out. 

 "Hnnnn, you have I suppose." Selina sighs.

 Dick takes the book, putting it into a waterproof pouch before gingerly putting his pelt back on. He happily caterpillars out of the cave with the pouch in his mouth. He really hopes you'll like this.

You really should just fix up another cot for Dick at this point and maybe buy him a set of clothes when you go to town. 

 "It's too cold to sleep outside." Dick whines, flattening himself against you on the bed. 

 You lift your book to look at him. Dick just gives you that wide-eyed look when he wants something. You roll your eyes,  letting him snuggle up to you.  "Dick, it is obviously summer and you're like 40% blubber." You snort. 

 Dick pouts.  "You're still gonna let me sleep here." 

 You scrunch your face up and sigh. "I can't exactly let you brace the summer cold, can I?" You say, running a hand through his hair. 

 "Eeeeeexactly." Dick says happily as snuggles into you tightly.  He nuzzles his face into your neck wrapping his arms around your waist. You hum helplessly, curling into his embrace.

 "See." Dick trills with a happy grin. 

 "Are you going to be smug about it all night?" You huff, throwing a blanket over the two of you.

 "No," he says,  "you assume I can't keep being smug 'til sunrise."

 "Dork," you snicker, setting the book down. It was a book on selkie traditions that Dick had gotten you a few days ago. You devoured it the same night but you're reading it again and subtly testing things while Dick was invading your house. You hum, running your hand through his hair, fingernails lightly scraping against his scalp. Dick purrs against your chest. "There was a one eyed seal on the beach the other day. He was a grumpy fellow but kind of cute. Seals really are a sleepy lot. The big lug started snoozing on my lap after like 5 minutes." 

 Dick tense under your touch. He looks up at you seriously.

 "That was a selkie." Dick deadpans. 

 You stop your rambling. "What?!"

 "That grumpy one-eyed seal was a selkie." He repeats carefully. 

 Your breath stutters. "Are all of the seals on this island selkies? ALL OF THEM?" Dick is pretty sure your eyes are mounting an escape.

 "All of them, darling." Dick nods. 

 "Oh." You are so screwed. "Do you guys all talk to each other?!" You shouldn't have told that seal about your little crush. You want the mattress to swallow you up. 

 "Yes? Should I be concerned?" Dick asks, lifting his head. 

 "No! No reason!" You squeal, shaking your head.

 Dick pouts at you with suspicion. It occurs to you with some amusement that Dick is actually glaring. You wisely decide to sidestep the conversation. 

 "You guys love taking naps on people, huh?" You say, absently twining your fingers into Dick's hair. He settles his head against your chest. "That's just cus we like you." He hums. 

 A snort rips out of you. "You're just biased."

 Dick looks up at you seriously again. "We selkies like pretty things like any fae." Dick says, wrapping his arms around you more tightly. He's being petty but Dick has always been protective of you and he isn't about to stop now. Besides... he doesn't want anyone stealing you away.

 You frown at him. "Dick, there are far prettier things on this island and sweet talking won’t magically make November cakes appear." You huff, kissing the top of his head before picking up the book and using it to hide the smile shaping your lips. 

 You feel Dick pick himself up off of you. You peek over your book to watch Dick. He scoots closer to your face until the only thing separating you is the far too thin book in your hands.

 "You don't believe me, do you?"

 "No." You say. You don't mean it but it's the easiest thing to conjure up when Dick is this close. Your lips prickle from imagining Dick's lips against yours. 

 You weren't paying attention. Dick has apparently been going on a two-minute diatribe on how pretty you are and in that two minutes, Dick has managed to scoot even closer. He gently takes the book out of your hands to make sure you're paying attention. He fails to take into account the fact that his face is in fact distracting. Your eyes zero in on his very plush and very kissable lips. If you just lean forward a fraction, you could...

 Your lips feel warm and soft against Dick's, the rest of his diatribe dying in the back of his throat as his eyes flutter shut. His mind might just be melting out of his ears because the only thing he can think about is how soft you are and how perfectly your lips fit against his. 

 "I'm sorry." You whisper shyly. You should be sorry, Dick thinks. Who told you to pull away?

 You touch your fingers to your lips. Fuck, what did you just do?

 "You can do it again." Please, he almost adds. 

 You lick your lips. Dick perks up and leans closer. His heart is going to leap out of his chest. You lean closer. Dick can feel his heart pounding against his rib cage. 

 You kiss Dick on the nose and pull away, hiding your lips behind your hand as you snicker. Dick scrunches his nose and blows air out of it. 

 "You know perfectly well what I meant." He huffs. 

 You lean back into your pillow, grinning at him. "I have absolutely no clue what you're on about." You say slowly, smug.

 "Let me remind you then,"A grin takes over his face. Dick leans in, pressing his lips against yours. You exchange breaths as you drink in the feeling of each other's lips. Dick caresses your sides. He feels you shiver and he smiles into your lips. "That ring any bells?"

 "Not really..." You say, flickering your eyes to him. "But if you try again... it might."

 "Oh sweetheart, I can keep reminding you all night." Dick chuckles, winking. 

 Covering your face, you attempt to hide your embarrassment. You hate how easily he flusters you. "You can't just say stuff like that." You whimper. 

 "Why not? I'm supposed to be courting you and that includes buttering you up," Dick says, nuzzling your cheek. You're just too cute.  Dick gently pries your hands away from your face. "Don't hide your face from me, Honey."

 "Oh god, you're making me regret letting you court me."

 "Never."

 ______________________________________________________________________

 Dick's eyes are struggling to remain open as he watches the fire.  He burrows further into the thick comforter you'd given him. It's not quite as warm as his pelt but the fabric is puffy and it has a sweet smell that makes his head swim. 

 Dick angles his head slightly to watch you. You've been toiling for hours and refuse to tell Dick what it is. Your back is still hunched over with your foot bouncing on the floor. Dick lets his eyes flutter shut, listening to the sound of your shuffling tools. 

 You glance down at the adorable mess dozing off on your sofa. You gently move his hair out of his face. He swats at you sleepily, face scrunched even as he sleeps. You sincerely wish you had Damian's talent for art or that you had one of those cameras. You really wish you could keep a picture of Dick's sleepy face. It's the cutest thing in the world.

 "Hey Dickie," you whisper.

 "Hmmmmm?" He groans.

 "Could you hand me your pelt?"

 "Sure," he moans, blindly padding around for it. You snort as he nearly falls off the sofa. After groping nearly every surface, he finally finds the pelt. "here you-"

 The fur brushes your fingertips before Dick stops. Dick shoots up, nearly clipping your nose with his forehead. He's looking at you fully awake, drool still hanging off the corner of his lips."Are you sure?!"

 "Hand it over coward." You smile gently at him. You try your best to fight off the excitement bubbling in your veins. 

 Dick is off the couch, his own excitement barely contained as his whole body vibrates with happiness. He sits up. You hold out your hand but instead of handing you his pelt, Dick drapes it over you like a wedding veil. It's thick and warm to the touch. You let your hands brush over the silken fur. You can feel magic thrumming from it. It feels like a minute current of electricity but it doesn't flow linearly. It ebbs and flows as it pleases, pulsing beneath your fingers. You burrow yourself in it. 

 Something warm spills in Dick's chest as he sees you wrapped up in his pelt. Dick kisses your nose. "You have now been wifed."

 You twitch your nose. "You missed."

 "Nope. Don't think so. Buuuuut if you show me where you want me to kiss you..."

 You roll your eyes and surge forward, pressing your lips to his.  Dick smiles into it, pulling you close and savoring the sensation of your lips melding together. He makes a happy trilling noise while you laugh against his lips. 

 "That clear enough, Dickie?"  You ask, pressing your forehead against his. 

 "Yeah, I think I got it, wifey."

__________________________________________________________

THANKS FOR READING

Tag list:  @batarella​, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish , @birdy-bat-writes​,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be​ @jadedhillon​​

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

His lucky charm

YES, IT’S FLUFF Y’ALL.. FINALLY// also using this as an opportunity to flaunt my photography (the background is og)...

He searched and searched and searched. He literally flipped out his entire closet out to find that specific T-shirt, his Nirvana shirt that was his lucky charm, the one he wore on all the special occasions, he even wore it to his first date with Harry underneath his shirt. But right now for the life of him he couldn't find that specific T-shirt and he needed to leave in the next 15 minutes if he had to reach the portkey. It was a very important day for him and that job was once in a life time opportunity and he couldn't screw that up, he couldn't do it, he needed to get that job today but without his lucky t-shirt, he might never get that job. It was official that he was losing his mind.

He huffed as he put all the clothes back in his closet and resumed searching in Harry's closet to see if by mistake it has gotten in his closet but it wasn't there either. He groaned loudly and as a last resort went to search in the laundry if the t-shirt was there even though he knew that the last time he wore the shirt was 3 weeks ago and he vividly remembered keeping it in his closet. Unfortunately, it wasn't in the laundry either and he finally went to the bedroom again to ask Harry if he had seen his t-shirt.

"Harry." Draco called out and Harry groaned loudly, he was sleeping in late, again.

"Harry, just get up. I need your help, alright." Draco called out again and this time Harry groaned even more loudly.

"HARRY!" Draco called again and this time he took Harry's blanket away to get him out of the bed.

And.. There was his T-shirt.

"Will you just let me sleep. It's a fucking weekend, Draco." Harry loudly said as he rose up from the bed and collapsed back into the bed again, turning over.

"Harry, you're wearing my damning shirt." Draco pulled Harry up but Harry wrestled so Draco collapsed with him into the bed.

Harry wrapped his around Draco's waist and didn't let him get up, "a few more minutes babe." Harry softly said.

Draco rolled his eyes and tried to break free of his grip, "Harry, you're wearing my shirt and I need it."

"just wear another shirt." Harry mumbled.

"Harry, it's my lucky t-shirt-"

"I love this t-shirt, alright. Its comfortable. I'm not giving it back." Harry said opening his eyes and looking at Draco.

"But Harry-”

"Bullshit. I’m not giving it back. I’m already wearing it.” Harry groaned. 

“Harry, this shirt is important to me, please just give it back. Wear any other t-shirt of mine but just give this one back, it’s my lucky t-shirt. I won’t make it through the interview without it.” Draco explained turning so he was facing Harry. 

“You just think this shirt is your lucky charm when you don't even need any lucky shirt or any charm to get you through something-"

"No-"

"oh would you just- shush- you're the Lucky charm, baby. You don't need this shirt or a necklace or a watch to get your through anything. You are more than enough, Draco."

"But I do, I really do. Every time I’ve worn this shirt, I’ve never failed. I need it, Harry.” 

Harry huffed as he was fully awake now. He properly opened his eyes and saw Draco, 

“Okay, today what if, I give you this shirt and you wear it and you don’t make it through? What then? Would it turn into your unlucky t-shirt then?” 

Draco shrugged, “probably.” 

Harry rolled his eyes and got up, pulling Draco up too so they both were facing each other. He softly cupped Draco’s face and said, “You’re a dumbass to think all of that. Do you know how stupid you sound when you say something as insignificant as this t-shirt is your lucky charm? You are all the lucky charms you need, Draco. You are the luck you need. You are all you need to walk into that interview, impress the fuck out of them and get that damning job. This t-shirt might have made you believe that you got through because of this but the actual reason is you, the incredible, amazing, beautiful, talented you. Its the little things that are your lucky charms, like you are for me and you know why, because you’re my purpose. My main purpose. At the end of the day whatever I do is to spend more time with you, to make you happy and to be with you.. Like you are my lucky charm, Draco, you are also yours because you’re you and you don’t need anything else. You get me? I don’t care whatever you say but today you’re gonna go to that interview without this enormously comfortable t-shirt and still get that job because I know you will, because I have faith in you and you should have faith in yourself too. So, now you go and get that job and you make me proud while I finish my beauty sleep, okay?” 

Draco chuckled and in the moment’s of motivation he leaned forward and kissed Harry. He pressed his forehead against his own and said, “How the hell did I land up with someone as lazy and immensely incredible as you? What did I even do to deserve you?” 

“You are you. That’s made you have me, get me, deserve me, nothing less, nothing more and I am me, which is why I have you, which is why I deserve you.” Harry smiled. 

“For someone who haven’t had his morning coffee yet, you’re awfully positive.” Draco joked. 

“Oh trust me, honey, only for you, the rest of the world knows me as an asshole before coffee.” and they laughed. 

But when Draco did end up at that interview and when he absolutely nailed that interview, without the one thing he thought he needed, he was beyond proud of himself and extremely happy that he met Harry. 

When he came back home with all the baked cupcakes and saw Harry still sleeping in, he realised one thing, that t-shirt may have been his lucky charm in the past but now, the only lucky charm he needed was Harry. As long as he had Harry in his life, nothing could ever possibly go wrong because like Harry said, Draco gave him a purpose, Harry was Draco’s purpose. He was the reason that he woke up with a smile each morning and slept in the night, he was the reason he went to parks, he was the reason he loved people, he was the reason why all the air in the world seemed much better, he was the reason why the world seemed like a better place. 

So,as long as he had Harry in his life, nothing would ever go wrong and Draco had absolutely no plans on ever leaving Harry, ever. 

Tagging some people for the boost, please ignore <3

@drarrywords @phoebe-delia @chinike @elenaxoxo22 @thecornerofbelu @nv-md @littlebodybigheartttt @lilthislilthat @cissa-bee @cluelesspigeons @missdrarrydawn@harryandginnydeservesbetter @draco-lucious-potter @ravena-wrote @textrovert-01 @silver-de-vonne

[jangofctts]

Bloodsport (din djarin x fem!reader) (part one) 

rated: 18+

word count: 5.4k

warnings: smut, knife kink (no blood is drawn and consent is clearly given), blowjobs, vaginal fingering, din is sorta a virg duDE, alcohol, mentions of violence (reader punches someone in the face kwejrkejh), some gambling (sabaac) also please let me know if I missed anything!

a/n: oOf this is the first fic in sO LONG IM SO SORRY YALL KEHJRKEJH BUT ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU ENJOY

It’s been a couple months since Din’s stepped foot on the sandy nightmare of a planet. Went through hell and back and kriff—it feels like a lifetime ago. But the landscape before him hasn’t changed an inch, Mos Eisley same as always—busy with all sorts of scum and villainy he turns a blind eye to. 

Din hopes it’s not the only thing that’s stayed the same—selfish as it is. Someone as volatile as you is bound to catalyze and shift, so is the nature of life. A lot can happen in a month or two and it’s ridiculous to think that you would ever push your life to the side and wait for him to return.    

Turns out, you are here, still working as the resident mechanic. Though in the same elated breath of hearing that tidbit of news, it’s equally dissatisfying when he somehow misses you completely. You’re off planet, looking for power converters and electrical wiring—back in few days Peli promises. Maybe by the time his wild goose chase is over, back from the butt fuck middle of nowhere, he’ll get to see you— 

Nothing goes as planned—naturally. All Din finds is a man playing dress up, an oversized lizard, planetary drama he’s forced to resolve and—to top it all off—an attempted stickup. Maker—he’s not even worried about anything save for the kid and your speeder. The very same one now scattered over the sand in miserable heaps.           

At least some of it is salvageable…

By the time Din reaches the outskirts of Mos Eisley, the binary suns are smearing across the horizon like molten puddles of magma. Deep aches amass in his shoulders and back from the weight of the speeder parts, his gear, and the second pair of armor. Maker—it feels like his arms are going to be ripped off.

The baby babbles something incomprehensible. 

“Almost there, kid,” Din responds, sparing a quick glance down the baby. “How does soup sound?”

Instead of trudging back to the hangar, Din wanders to the cantina. Call it a hunch or just you and your aunt’s tendency to lurk around the premises, he’s certain he’s going to find one of you here. 

Din is right.

The moment he steps inside, he spots your mess of hair, the low solar lights illuminating the rich colors with a soft orange. The baby coos and blinks up at Din, his tiny clawed finger gesturing in your direction. 

Din hums. “Good job—you found her.” 

The child’s little teeth peek out, pleased with his discovery. Din steps into the doorway, down the carven stairs and over to your table. A older man—a ship rigger by the looks of his uniform—sits across from you, a game of Sabaac spread across the table between you. You’re winning. 

“Hello, Shiny.” You greet, dipping your chin in his direction. “Your armor is looking a tad ripe.” 

It’s true. The layer of slime coating his armor had baked and crusted under the suns—probably doesn’t smell too good either… 

“I killed a Krayt dragon.” Din states it with a twinge of smug satisfaction despite knowing how little something like that would mean to you. He could conquer three dozen planets and shower you in all the precious metals in the world and you’d still turn your nose up at everything.  

“And I curb stomped a centipede today—you aren’t special.” Your eyes never leave the set of worn cards you hold between your fingers, acutely ignoring him like you would an overly enthusiastic puppy. You inhale and scrape your right thumbnail along the edge of the hexagonal cardstock—it’s a subtle tell, one Din would more than likely miss if he were the unlucky bastard brave enough to sit at the other end of the table.  

“You playin’ or what?” Your opponent gripes. He scratches his unkempt salt and pepper stubble and quirks a furry brow. 

You lift your chin in scorned defiance and lay your hand down—full Sabaac. The man hisses through his crooked, clenched teeth and utters a curse as he shoves his winnings towards your end of the table.  

“Peli promised me information.” Din pushes, hearing the kid coo in curiosity as you begin shuffling the cards with practiced flare. “About others like me.”

“Do I look like my aunt to you?” You grumble. It’s the first time your eyes leave the perimeter of the game to look at him. They settle on the kid first with a guarded version of compassion, then leap to the faded green armor clipped to the heavy luggage, and then his visor. Your lip twitches at the green slime still coating the beskar. “I’m assuming my speeder didn’t make it.”

“A technical difficulty.”

You roll your eyes and snort, dealing out the cards then setting the stack in the middle. “Right…”

The background ambiance of the bar and the quiet rasp of cards fill the brief lull in conversation. Any other rational person would take the blaring hint to leave, but Din is just as stubborn as you are. 

“I don’t remember where the hangar is,” Din lies, cocking his head to the side in mock innocence, “could you show me?” 

The tip of your tongue peaks out of the corner of your mouth. The unconscious tic is not one of irritation—not yet. Though before you’re able to respond, your opponent beats you to it. 

“Yeah—I know where it is. It’s between fuck off and take a hike.”  

Din turns his head, the cool, even tone of his words sharper than shrapnel as he address the man. “I was speaking to her.”        

This is funny to you Din realizes—one of the tiny mysteries of your entirety clicking into the place of the puzzle map he’s conjured for you. 

“Well, I don’t have the time of day for cowards who wear shiny buckets over their head.” The man gripes into his drink, dark eyes flicking over to Din as he sizes him up. “What’s a Mandalorian doing out here anyway? Thought your planet exploded or something.”

The man’s ignorance irks him—sure. How could it not? But with years of harsh words and jabs at the foundation of Din’s very being, he’s learned to adapt. It’ll always sting no matter how many layers of beskar he wears but you on the other hand…

Your eyes spark, molten and bright like the last solar flare on the surface of a decaying star. Each encounter Din’s had with you, he’s bared witness to the deep well of your anger that fuels your being like the auto-mechanical heart of a droid. He’s felt the bite of your rage firsthand, but this anger—this is the tragedy of the delicate mayfly wings trapped between the black teeth of misfortune—the story of the boy who rammed a spear into the flank of an ancient beast that bites before it barks and gnashes its yellowed teeth in warning.

Din’s hand inches towards his blaster. He’s not willing to weigh the safety of the kid against your rash decisions, despite it being on his behalf.   

Though, just as quick as it appears, it recedes like the cool drawback of a tumultuous ocean. Din’s arm relaxes at his side as you release a puff of air. 

Your scuffed up fingers, stained with years of engine grease, scars and dirt, curl around your half finished drink. You stand, lay your cards face down onto the table and flash the stranger a feral grin.

Without a word, you toss your drink directly into the man’s unsuspecting eyes. In another breath, the pointed edges of your knuckles fly forward and hook beneath the point of his chin with a meaty thunk. The man’s head whips backwards and connects with the gravely wall—

Out like a light.  

Jaw clenched tight, you shake out your bleeding knuckles and gather up the strewn credits over the table. You shove them into the pockets of your jacket and side eye Din. “Restitutions for damages,” you mutter. 

The other patrons keep their eyes to themselves as the three of you hurry out the door. Only an apathetic glance from the bar tender serves as proof that something did, in fact, occur. No one wants to dirty their nose sniffing about where they shouldn’t be when they have their own business to safeguard.

The crisp night air rustles the stray strands of hair that escape from your ponytail. Ghostly moonlight carves the shape of your cheeks into an almost ethereal sight—one of those deep space creatures with pointy teeth and hellfire for eyes. Stuff of legends you’d never think to look in a dingy bar for.     

But he knows—Din knows that cool mask is just a front from what you hide. It is a hungry ghost that hounds your thin stretched shadow—what ifs and the glories of war you never really escaped. You forget that you are flesh and blood and ghosts are only air and echoes, nothing more. 

Din is sharp edged steel. A stray fragment of a shattered mirror, the lacerated reflection of a nameless purpose and a faceless existence. He’s torn edges and cracked glass but his heart beats within his chest with the blood of a thousand suns. Two souls under the umbrella of the word damaged but entirely different in nature.     

“No one—“ you growl, your voice a steady and lethal timbre that terrifies a part of Din’s unconsciousness, “—speaks that way to my friends.” 

Touching. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Creature,” you huff, staring down at the child who gurgles in return. “He deserved it—“

The reunion certainly wasn’t the one Din imagined, though it’s a relief to find that there’s no roughened edge like sandpaper over skin wedged between you. Picked up right where you left off—no questions asked and no inglorious retelling of how Din nearly died on the floor of a shitty cantina. There’s not a doubt in his mind that you'd laugh at him for it—it is sorta funny…   

The rest of the evening is spent walking back to the hangar, arguing over the fact that yes Din should take the couch instead of that miserable little hovel he calls a bed, and spend the night. He’d have to find some other mechanic to work through the night if he wanted to leave in the morning, because you certainly did not want to volunteer for that. And so—Din reluctantly takes the couch and agrees to let you tackle the monstrosity of fixing up his ship for tomorrow. 

He has to admit…the couch is a bit smaller than the length of his body, but it’s comfortable…maybe he’d buy a better blanket while he was here. As a treat.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

You purse your lips and whistle. “I swear each time I see it, it gets worse. Y’know, I know a couple guys selling—“ 

“Can you fix it?”

You fold your arms over your chest and roll your eyes.“Yeah I can fix it, jeez—no need to get your undies in a twist.” 

You try not to take offense, because hey—you’re offering him the info on the good deals on new ships (and at this point anything would be better than this old rust bucket). But if Din doesn’t want anything to do with that, then whatever. His loss.   

When you wander onto the ship, toolbox in hand, the Mandalorian tags along. Unsure if he doesn’t trust you with his things or just wants to hang out, it blankets the space with an air of uncertainty. Turns out it was neither of those guesses. All he does is throw open his stash of weapons, collect his pile of vibroknives, and set them on a table to polish and sharpen. 

Makes sense, you suppose. Everything has to be as shiny as his armor. 

You drop to your knees near the closest wiring panel you find. You wrench open the paneling and frown at the disarray of sparking wires and tangled cords. You organized these perfectly last time he was here. “Who the fuck junked up my rigging?”

Mando sits at the little table tucked away in the corner, brooding over his cache of weapons. He shrugs. “Could’ve come loose when I landed.” 

You roll your eyes at his half assed excuse and mutter a foul string of curses under your breath that’d make even Peli wince. It’s fine. It’s cool—no biggie. You can sort through this in a couple hours, maybe three. 

But of course rarely anything goes as planned. As time ticks away, arms deep in wires older than the kriffing Clone Wars, the distractions begin. The scrape of metal on durasteel makes the hair rise into little pricks all up your arms—you shoot a glare over your shoulder. Din tilts his head, your kneeling self reflecting within the ever dark visor, features scrunched into an obvious tell of annoyance. Huffing, you bury your head back into your task at hand. 

The second distraction arrives in the form of a quiet hum of curiosity originating from the Mandalorian. Out of the corner of your eye you see him bring a vibroblade up to his visor, inspecting the notch in the blade that disrupts the electrical current that flows through the weapon. Din then rubs his thumb over the handle of the vibroblade in a slow, sensual circle. You lick your lips and tear your eyes away. That shouldn’t be hot.

You furrow your brows and tear apart another wire, but the metallic tap, tap, tap of Din bouncing the tip of a different blade over the table is bothersome. You swing your head to your left, mouth parting to snap at him, but his hand—sans glove—brings you to a halting stop. 

It’s alluring, the way his long, weathered fingers twirl the knife with practiced ease—like silk through water and followed by the low hum of electricity meant to slice through flesh. Din tosses it in the air, watching it spin three rotations then catches it by the handle. Your lips purse when his visor meets your eyes. He spins it between his fingers.  

“Am I bothering you?”

Fucker.   

You scowl. “It’s fine.” 

The soft rasp of his thumb sliding along the flat of the blade entices the eye and damnit—he’s doing this on purpose. 

“Doesn’t seem fine,” he hums. 

“Well, it is.” You retort hotly. You snatch up your pliers and imagine you’re pulling his teeth out in place of the crooked paneling. “I’m currently thriving in my element.”  

Din hums, the sound buzzing with grainy distortion. “Do you want a closer look?”

You chew your bottom lip. He’s playing with an open flame and you with volatile jet fuel. 

“I don’t know, seems kinda lame from here.” You scoff, busying yourself by pinching and twisting another set of frayed wires between your fingertips. “A toothpick if anything.”

Din snorts behind you. The deadly whisper of beskar against the durasteel tabletop makes the hair on the back of your neck prick into points. You tense as heavy boots shuffle along the floor, the near silent rustle of armor tinkling behind you as Din steps closer. You’re slow to stand, even though the presence of the Mandalorian is no less than overbearing. You wipe your grimy hands onto a spare rag, continuing to face the paneling. You then turn, a coy smile threatening to break across your face. 

Stars Din is broad—and close enough you swear you’re able to see the perspiration of your breath fog the beskar plating. Your eyes follow the seams of the cuirass, across the leather bandolier and up to his helmet that’s fixed in an impassive glare of tempered steel. Your back bumps into the wall as Din takes another step forward, boxing you in. To escape you’d need to duck under his arm and yet…you refuse to move.   

Your breath catches as he languidly lifts his hand and taps the flat side of the vibroblade over your collarbone. The sharpened point tickles up the column of your throat, a crackle of nerves and your pounding pulse following in its wake. Din turns the blade to flat edge and pushes into the space right below your jaw—you squirm when he chuckles, the sound low and deep. 

“You like this…”

Din grunts as your hand reaches between his legs, squeezing the growing hardness there. “So do you.” 

Din circles his hand around your wrist with his free palm. Moons above his hands are warm. He murmurs your name—you shiver. “Tell me you want this—want me.”

A blush, hotter than the surface of Tatooine in the midday sun, rushes up your neck and pools into the apples of your cheeks. Maker you want him. With a shuddering sigh you nod—braving the scathing shrapnel of vulnerability. “I need you, Din—please.”

A low chuckle rumbles through Din’s chest. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard you say please before.”

Din drops his hold on your wrist as you roll your eyes. “Shut up, Bucket Head.”

The Mandalorian snorts and dips his head—gesturing towards the blade still lightly pressed against the base of your throat. “This ok too, Skitter?”

You flash him a wolfish grin. “Gonna fuck me with it?”

Din swears under his breath, crowding his body closer to yours. You hear his strained sigh as he dips his head closer, the beskar a chilly whisper against your cheek. “You’re depraved…take off your pants.”

You smirk, tear off your belt and shimmy out of your pants and underwear, bottom half now bare. His visor dips, entranced.  

Your heart leaps into your throat, your pulse roaring in your ears as he settles one of his bare hands over the swell of your hip while the other trails the blunt edge of the handle from your clothes collarbone, and down your belly. From your mid thigh he skates the handle up your bare thigh and then rests it over the crack of your thigh. Heat flushes through your entire body, a stark contrast to the cool metal of the handle. A shiver races down each vertebrae when he drags it over the swell of your cunt and then carefully pressing it against your clit. You gasp and arch into the light touch, your thighs involuntarily jerking as he increases the pressure. It’s cold, rigid and filthy. Who knows where that knife has been—how many lives it’s taken or severed through muscle and skin. 

You don’t find it in you to care all that much.    

He trades his hold on your hip to slide his hand into your shirt, palming and kneading your breast through your bra as you roll and whine against his fingers. The tight circles he's drawing over your clit burns through your abdomen, drags you closer to the precipice that you’re all ready so close to. Fuck—it’s been so long since you’ve indulged in this sort of pleasure.You whine his name as wicked heat licking up your body and spreading to each limb. You arch into him, the handle of his knife slipping through your folds as arousal drips from your cunt.   

Your groan as you tilt your hips into the handle, craving any lick of pleasure he’ll give. Your breath hitches as Din pushes the hilt closer to your throwing entrance, murmuring praise as he sinks the first couple inches inside of you. It’s cold—the knobby feel of the handle not too much thicker than one or two of your fingers combines. You huff and grab at his cowl, the warmth of his hand grazing your pussy each time he rocks his wrist forward. 

“You’re so quiet,” Din goads, pulling the handle free from your aching center. “You usually have plenty to say.” 

You shoot Din a glare, tongue weighed down by arousal to come up with a god retort. You lean your head back against the wall of the Crest and with a chuckle, Din’s hand leaves your shirt to pull you against his chest, the vocoder rumbling against your ear. The blade clatters to the floor and instead brings his calloused fingertips to your cunt. He softly rolls your swollen clit between his forefinger and thumb, delighting in the way you shake. “Be a good little thing and cum for me.”

Shit, you didn’t think it’d be that easy. Your body seizes as white hot heat ripples through your core. Stars, brighter than a dying sun burst behind your eyes, a high pitched cry filtering past your lips as shake and fall apart in his arms, your cunt clenching tight around the thick fingers he slips inside of you. 

You whine as he pulls out, little aftershocks of pleasure wracking through your body in wake of your euphoric high. You groan as he lifts your head and pushes his digits, coated in your juices into your mouth. You lick them clean, tasting the tang of your own arousal and the salt on his skin. “Fuck—that was good.”

You can only imagine that Din rolls his eyes. He takes a step back but before he can escape—

You drop to your knees, a wicked smile curling over your lips. The muscles in his thighs jump as your palms smooth over the outsides of them, then up to his narrow hips, your thumbs lightly massaging the ligaments that protects the fragile joints. Din sucks in a sharp breath when your fingertips hook around his trousers. 

“What are you doing?” Din asks, brushing a thumb over your jaw. 

You pause and glance up at him. You quirk a brow. “Was gonna suck you off, but if you have something else in mind…“ He hisses and tips his head back, flashing the underside of his chin as your hand leaves his hip to cup the heavy bulge tenting in his trousers. 

“Maker—“ He looks off to the side, inhales a choppy breath and then snaps his head back. “You’d…you’d do that?”   

You nod and flash him an encouraging half grin. “Wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to.”

Din mumbles an incoherent string of words under his breath and shifts his weight onto his right leg. His fingers touch your cheek again then tuck a loose hair behind your ear. “But—“

Moons above this man is straight out of some kind of fucking fairytale—arguing about getting his dick sucked—or not. 

Whatever.       

“Din…” His breath hitches at the sound of his name. “I’m asking you kindly to fuck my mouth—it’s cool if you don’t wanna, but my knees already kriffing hurt and—“

He cuts you off with a hasty nod. “Yes—stars, please.”

Fuck yeah.

You smile and slide your eyes past Din’s legs to the cargo crate shoved up against the wall. “You should sit—easier that way.”

He nods and shuffles over, lightly perching himself on the edge and ready to flee at the barest hint of well—anything.

Din’s knee jumps when you place your palm over it. You assume his nerves are from the nature of his occupation—trouble always strikes when you least expect it—and what better time would that be when his pants are around his ankles. “Relax—I’m not gonna bite—maybe.”

He makes a wary sound low in his throat as your fingertips hook into the waistband of his trousers and pull. Din lifts up as you tug the fabric further down his legs, tan skin and solid muscle following in its wake. Fuck…

You swallow, mouth feeling quite dry when your eyes drift between his legs. Din is thick, a rosy brown color, flushed at the tip and curling towards his bellybutton. Beads of liquid shine at the tip, dribbling down the underside and pooling into the dark patch of curls at the base. Din’s fingers hook over the side of the crate, squirming under the weight of your stare. 

Yeah—that’s gonna leave your jaw aching.    

You hear his breath hitch, magnified by the crackle of the vocoder as your lips descend over a silvery scar on the inside of his right knee. You pepper a trail of wet kisses and light nips up his thighs, and by the time you reach the crease of his leg, his hips mindlessly rock with need. 

The second the wet warmth of your tongue brushes over the tip of his cock, his hips jolt off the crate, a load groan echoing through the empty ship. It’s like striking a match to an open line of kerosene—devouring and explosive that’ll leave your delicate skin singed. You’re not nervous playing with fire if this barest scrap of wild heat is anything like burning to a crisp. 

Emboldened by his initial reaction, you wrap your hand around the base, pulsing and achingly hard beneath the velvety flesh. You flatten your tongue over the tip, lapping up the sticky liquid the slip the head of him into your mouth. His hands fly to your hair, tightening into fists as he throws his head back. The beskar scrapes over the durasteel with a sharp squeal, but you don’t find it in you to care about the abrasive sound—eardrums be damned.  

“Fuck—kriffing hell—“ Din snarls, arching his hips to seek more of your warmth. “K-keep going.”  

Your own rekindled arousal blazes hot in your core hearing his stuttered pleas. You pull away to catch your breath, feeling almost guilty for doing so at Din’s low whine of protest. He picks his head up, watching as you languidly jerk him off—entranced with the way your hand rolls over the leaking tip, back down to the base, then up again. You could keep him like this—tease until he cracks under the pressure and begs you for whatever iota of pleasure you want to give but—

You’re not that mean.    

Wetting your lips with your tongue, you part your mouth and slide nearly half of his length into your mouth. Din mutters something garbled, his hips jolting as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head.

Din shifts, arching his back and stuttering out broken whispers of encouragement. Placing your hand over his thigh, you can feel his pulse thrumming beneath your fingertips, wild and alive—something real beneath all that heavy armor and unforgiving helmet. 

“You—you look…” He grunts as you hum around around his cock, swallowing him down further. “Shit—you look so p-perfect like this.”

You groan and squeeze your thighs together, attempting to ignore the gnawing hunger snapping at your insides. 

Rolling your tongue along the underside of his shaft, your fingers slide over what your mouth cant reach—squeezing and gently coaxing him towards his high. He seizes up tight—yet, just when you think you’ve got him skidding off that precarious edge—

His hand fists your hair at the base your neck and yanks you off his cock. He huffs, breathy little pants as he folds into himself like he’s been punched in the gut, his head rolling forward onto his shoulder. Din shivers as he scrambles for control, beginning to loose that slippery foothold he’s so intent on maintaining. His cock, flushed an angry red and still slick with your saliva, twitches and throbs for the release so cruelly wrenched away. 

You let him catch his breath. The fingers tangled in your hair go lax and drop away to rest at his sides. You swallow, his previous skittishness suddenly clicking into place. “Din, are you…?” A virgin. Your question tapers off, unsure if it’ll embarrass and scare him off. 

“No,” he answers—not in a sharp way like you’d hear with a bruised ego—just stating a fact. “Just not—not this. Never had someone—stars—“

Your teeth roll your bottom lip between them, forcing your face to remain neutral despite the stroke of pride blooming singing in your chest. You’re his first—lucky enough to make this the best goddamned oral he’ll ever have. Something he’ll remember for years.  

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask, praying to the Maker he’ll say no. 

He shakes his head, sucking in another calming breath and unfurling himself. His fingers clench into fists then relax, crackling with pent up energy and unsure nerves as to where he should put them. You solve it by threading your fingers through his and placing them around you head. 

Your lips quirk. “You’re allowed to cum in mouth—don’t worry about it.”

His cock twitches as a quiet moan fizzles through the modulator. “You su-sure?”

“Oh, yeah.”

With a smile you bring your mouth back to his cock, tongue swiping up the entire length of him. Din groans as the soft warmth of your mouth slips over the flushed tip of cock, his thick length twitching as you hollow out your cheeks and suck. You bob your head as you slowly work him in further because even like this, hardly halfway into your mouth, you feel your lips stretching a bit too much around him. You groan and part your mouth wider, letting him sink into the soft warmth of your throat.  Din inhales, the sound shaky and unsure as his hips twitch with a few tentative thrusts. 

You take it slow—lifting your mouth nearly all the up to the tip then back down to the base. Din rolls his hips, helping you ease into the gentle pace. Saliva drips down his cock and over your knuckles making an absolute mess you have zero intentions of cleaning up. It’s his ship after all. Din swears as his hips stutter, your hand squeeing around him, trying to push him off that edge he so deserves. Din gasps your name, the pitch of his words knocking up to a lighter, more airy tone, warmer than melted butter. 

“Ca-can’t believe, it—ah—it fits.” He groans with astonished reverence. You preen under his praise. 

You swallow around him and grunt at the abrupt jolt of his hips. There’s no distinctive rhythm you can follow as you let him rock his hips into your mouth—seeking out his pleasure without a coherent thought in sight. Just a cacophony of gasping breaths and rough moans. 

You can feel is cock twitching over you tongue—he’s close—and when your eyes roll up to meet the darkened visor, he’s gone. He shouts your name and knots his fists around your hair as he spirals of that edge. You nearly gag from the force of his release hitting the back of your throat—cock throbbing and jerking in your mouth like he’s been denying himself release for months. His moans, fragile and gasping, filling the quiet space as his hips grind his cock deeper down your throat, his hands threaded into your hair acting as an anchor—the sole tether he has to the waking world. 

Din’s grip relents as the last few catastrophic waves tear through his body. He doesn’t move his hands, just lets them rest over your skull  as his chest heaves for precious air, a harsh crackle through the vocoder. You pull his still twitching cock halfway out, dragging the tip of your tongue below the frenulum while one of your hands circles the base of his length. Maker—he’s still going—

Last little dribbles of his cum spurt onto your tongue and drip over your knuckles still securely wrapped around him. His legs and lower abdomen flex when your hand falls lower to carefully knead at his balls, milking out his pleasure for all its worth. You let his softening cock slip from your mouth when he swears and mumbles your name.      

When you rest your back against the wall, he slips himself back into his trousers and joins you. You take a risk and rest your head over the chilly beskar pauldron. You’d never call this love—the word is much too harsh for this delicate string of seconds. Love means giving pieces of yourself to others like martyrs give their hearts to the sky—or risk fragile skin against the rays of an unforgiving sun. Broken ribs and clenched fists, immensity beyond comprehension—

“You should come with us,” he says with a hesitant mumble. Love is formidable—but you know that somehow, here, pressed against Din’s side, that this is right. In a golden way, a honeyed way, a path that tastes of blood, freedom and blaster smoke that will leave your lungs stained with blackened soot. Cowardice has long made a home inside of your soul, and he’s offering you a chance to shake off the layer of frost clinging to your bones and step into the gentle merciful dawn.  

“Yeah—alright, Din. I will.”

tags (only tagging some moots for now bc i have no clue what’s going on in this fandom anymore dbdndn): @goldafterglow @jango-fettish @djxrxn @blsmjoon @spookoofins @krissology @steeeeeeeviebb @teaofpeach @comphersjost @gummiishark @delusionsxfgrandeur @pettyprocrastination @huliabitch

[honey-milk-depresso]

Meanie (Azul Ashengrotto x Reader) 8

Part 1,

part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 (END)

The final chapter. Congratulations for surviving this long with my bullshit-

“Everyone, please place the flower we have given you in their coffin.”

The sunlight was shining brightly in the early morning of NRC’s campus, 

but no happiness was to be found.

Just yesterday, you have died.

And it took a moment for Azul to realize that you were truly gone.

Everyone in NRC lined up in a single file to pay their final respects to you, one by one placing their flower in your coffin.

When it came to Azul’s turn, he had to hold himself from crying. He felt as if you were watching him. If he cried, you’ll cry too, and he doesn’t want you to fully leave this world with sadness and guilt.

He looked at you. Even if you’re dead, you looked as beautiful as ever.

He grabbed your cold hands, and placed the flower in the middle of your chest, before he gently used your hands to cover the flower, as if you are holding it.

“I love you,” he whispered, “I hope you go to a safe place.” And he walked away.

=============================================================

Azul walked back to Octavinelle with Jade and Floyd. They were silent. Yes, even Floyd stayed quiet.

The atmosphere was solemn.

Azul was solemn.

Never in his life have he came across death, let alone, someone he hold close to.

He used to love before.

He went back to his office alone and tilted his head up. Jade and Floyd went back to their rooms.

He’s not crying. He won’t cry for you.

Read it.

He heard something whisper.

“What..?”

The notebook.

He glanced to his right, the notebook labelled “ To Azul Ashengrotto”.

“Read it after they die,” Trey’s words echoed in his head as he recalls.

He grabbed the book.

To Azul Ashengrotto.

He stared at it, hesitantly flipping to the first page.

“I’m rewriting this from the accounts of Y/n, Azul. She asked for it. I hope you’re reading this.

- Trey Clover”

So Trey wrote this book for you to him.

“Azul and I were chilling at Monstro Lounge in the VIP room.

Lmao, he was soooo unlucky with his pulls, and had to answer all my questions and stuff. Apparently he thinks Idia is more handsome than Jade. Ooh~ 

I really loved the fact he wanted to spend time with me although he looks so done. I really appreciate it!”

He snorted. That was so you.

“Azul and I hanged out at the Rose Kingdom. I’m so glad Headmaster allowed me to hang out with him! Sometimes I feel like Headmaster is a dad. 

I had so much fun! Though, it’s kinda embarrassing that Azul spoilt me with so many gifts, and all I did was drag him around. I love the octopus plushie he won for me. It’s so chubby, soft and cute, just like him! 

He also bought me food from Trey’s awesome family bakery, and a really expensive pendent. I feel guilty, but I love it! It’s so pretty!”

He sighed. Really? Chubby?

“Headmaster told me I’m going to die in five months time. I’m really scared. I know I’ve joked about I feel like dying cuz of Professor Crewel’s homework, now facing with death, it feels really scary.

I have to tell everyone right? Headmaster told me he’ll tell my friends, that includes Azul. How would he feel? I don’t want him to feel sad..”

He flipped to the next page.

“Azul, Jade and Floyd came to visit me. Actually EVERYONE did! Even Leona and Idia! Can you believe it?? But I was so happy that Azul and the tweels came.

I rubbed my eyes so hard because I didn’t want them to see me cry. I was just so happy to see them!”

“Trey told me something. Well, an offered to do something for me. 

He knew I had a superrrr big crush on Azul, and he said I should tell him. I was so embarrassed at first, but I’m going to die soon, so I have to confess sooner or later right? 

He told me he’ll write a whole record of me of what I want to tell him, and then I can give it for him to read after I die.

Sounds like a good idea, but also kind of cruel. After I die????

What should I do?”

So that’s what you were talking about with him.

“I got to be discharged!

FINALLY OH MY SEVENSSSSS-

I CAN GET FRESH AIR BEFORE I DIE

DO YOU KNOW HOW BORING IT IS TO BE CHAINED TO A BED, DOING NOTHING UNTIL SOMEONE COMES TO VISIT???

PROFESSOR TREIN’S CLASS IS WAY BETTER-

Azul brought me around the entire campus, and to Octavinelle! And we played UNO! Although I lost a lot... But I’m happy I got to spend time with him and see everyone outside of the infirmary! ^^”

“I went to NRC’s Halloween Celebration!

IT. WAS. SO. COOL!!

There were like flying decorations and good food,

I got to see NRC become so lively and colorful! It was amazing!

Also I got to hang out with Azul and the tweels, and of course, everyone else!

I even got to be part of all the scaring and stuff at the Octavinelle’s scare house! heheheh~ 

I love the big finale, I wish it could last forever.”

“I made up my mind. 

I’m gonna ask Trey to help me write that book. I want Azul to have a piece of me even when I’m gone. I won’t leave him alone, and I’ll do everything in my power to do so.

If Trey is giving me the opportunity to do so, I’ll take it! Though, I should’ve done it from the beginning..”

“Azul kissed me. 

Oh my shit-

MMM I SHOULDN’T HAVE DRANK THE PLUM WINE HE GAVE ME BEFORE WE KISSED, I PROBABLY SMELT BAD-

BUT HE SAID HE LIKES IT??? WAS IT A GOOD CALL I DON’T KNOW-

But... I’m happy.. I got the courage to confess to him! On top of that, he said yes! I’m so happy I could cry..”

“I’m going to be giving the notebook to Trey. He’s gonna record it all down for me today. 

Azul, I hope you’re reading this. I want you to flip to the back. I asked Trey to attached something really important I want to share with you.”

He flipped to the back. There was a slip of paper folded, stapled to the page. It also held the pendent he bought for you. He grabbed it, and unfolded the paper.

“Azul, 

I’m writing this to you 5 months before I die. Crowley told me to tell everyone about my condition, but I wrote this for you specially.

Remember I told you in that truth or dare game?

“If I told you I was scared to die, what would you do?”

To tell you now, I’m still kind of scared. But I won’t show it! Pretending not being scared isn’t like lying.

Okay, but a practical thing, you could do anything you want with this book.

You can tear it up, throw it away, hide it or even show to everyone! Totally up to you!

I’m gonna be honest with you, I was and still jealous of you.

You were and are the picture perfect honor student of NRC. I haven’t been in NRC as long as you, but I’m just so jealous you manage to be so cool and flawless in everything you do! Well, maybe except for flying..

But still! You were and still are my role model! You always manage to amaze me! But not only that, you treated me like your best friend no matter what position you are! Maybe that’s why I fell for you, you didn’t show biasness towards me to become my friend. I hope you were genuine about our friendship!

But, I like the fact you actually sometimes don’t need other people to reflect about yourself, unlike me. I can’t reflect about me all by myself. If I were like you, maybe I could’ve been able to live entirely by myself, with my own unique worth and responsibilities. Of course, while still being friends with others!

But when it comes to self reflection, you are down to earth with yourself, you speak to yourself, and that’s very independent of you. Ever since you were little you were like that too, and that’s what made you hardworking and diligent!

I’ll end it right here, to tell you I love you. Ehehe~ Sorry it’s so sudden.

I love you, meanie.”

drip.

Pitter, patter, pitter, patter.

Slowly, Azul felt tears rolling down his face.

He broke. Except... that wasn’t true.

He’d been broken when he first heard you were about to die. He just kept strong for you, as you did for him.

He was so glad, he had spent his time with you.

You needed him. You felt like he’d done everything for you.

But now, you’re gone.

It was thanks to you, he never felt insecure about his past anymore. For the first time he met you, his really lived for the first time. He existed in this world.

“Thank you, y/n..” he choked, smiling meekly at your final goodbye letter to him, as he clutched the pendent he gave you.

“I love you so much...”

From Ramshackle dorm, your slightly dusty octopus plushie rest on the side of your pillow.

From far away, he sensed you hugging it, whispering so close to him although so far,

“I love you too, meanie..”

END

============================================================

HO SHIT-

REBLOG IT I FELT MY TEARS I-

Ok I’m joking

thank you for surviving and following with the story. 

Azul loves you. Bye, have a good day!

@magicpumpkin3 don’t kill me pls-

[aimless-imagines-for-fun]

His

Paring :: mafia dark!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings :: 18+, Smut/NSFW, Dark Themes, Possessiveness, Oral(M Recieving), Deep Throating

Word Count :: 2,787

Summary :: Bucky’s had a long day and you’re the only one he can release his stress on

A/N ::....there may or may not be another part... idk yet.... I just really like Mafia Bucky

Some days were better than others, for both you and Bucky. 

So far, your day had gone swimmingly. You woke up, did an easy morning stretch to help you wake up, and proceeded to clean around your house in your favorite sundress. There wasn’t much to do, with the house usually clean due to Bucky hiring professional cleaners to come once a week. Still, the dishes weren’t going to do themselves. 

The highlight of your day was a package being delivered. A book that you had pre-ordered from one of your favorite authors. After you cooked your lunch, you spent the rest of your day reading the book, sitting on the dark grey couch in your large living room. That was all you could do besides watching tv or doing a small hobby to keep you occupied until Bucky came home.

Bucky’s day, on the other hand, was infuriatingly long. He was a businessman and a mob boss, meaning he’d usually have long days. If he was lucky, he’d just have to deal with some idiot trying to cheat him. Today was an unlucky day. He received a visit from Helmut Zemo, the head of a Sokovian Mafia trying to start up in Brooklyn. 

-

Bucky sat at his desk, leaning back in his leather chair as he stared at the man who just entered his office. 

“I already told you the deal Zemo. There’s no bargaining, if you don’t like it save your breath and get the hell out of here.”

The Sokovian ignored him, walking over to a large bookshelf that was against the wall. “You know, for the most powerful man in Brooklyn, you’d be surprised how quickly some of your ‘people’ are willing to betray you if you offer them enough cash.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, a scowl forming on his face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Zemo glanced over for a moment. “The docks.”

A few nights prior, one of Bucky’s incoming shipments of illegal weapons had been robbed. A small number of men were killed, and the rest were injured. There was also a weird symbol that had been spray-painted around the docks, a sign that whoever had done this was publicly declaring war.

Bucky’s jaw clenched and he was now sitting up straight in his seat. “You did that?” “It was quite easy to.”

“So why the fuck are you here now? I could put a bullet through your head in a second.”

Zemo laughed, finally turning to face the other man. “You won’t because you know I’m not stupid enough to come here without just as many men you have.” He let out a small breath, taking a few steps forward. His gaze moved down to Bucky’s left hand, an eyebrow raising with curiosity. “You haven’t married her yet? She’s a lovely woman.”

In an instant Bucky stood up, his hands balled into fists. If a look could kill, Zemo would be dead and his body burning.

“I came to tell (Y/N) thank you. Not long ago, one of my guys got a bit lost and she helped him. Pietro said she was ‘the kindest girl he’d met’ and ‘extremely helpful and friendly.”

Bucky cursed in the back of his mind. It sounded exactly like something you’d do, you were kind and naive by nature, simply wanting to help people when they needed it. It was what drew him to you, and it seemed like it was attracting unwanted attention from others now.

“I’m gonna give you ten minutes to get the hell out of my territory.”

“Why so generous?”

“It’s a nice neighborhood,” Bucky replied sarcastically.

Zemo walked back towards the door, understanding he had pushed the man far enough. A coy smile crept on his face, looking at Bucky one last time. “I’d keep her better guarded and up to speed if I were you. She’s too innocent to be involved with you.”

Once Zemo and his men left Bucky nearly tore apart his office. It took Sam and Steve a good hour to calm the man down and make sure he didn’t do anything reckless. Once he cooled down, Sam revealed that Tony Stark had been the one to cross Bucky. Tony’s father was the previous big bad until Bucky came around.

-

“I don’t give a fuck what you do Steve, just make sure Tony doesn’t think he’s not get strung up on a tree after I shoot that Sokovian bastard in the head.” 

His voice was full of annoyance and his grip on the steering wheel of his car was so tight the whites of his knuckles were visible. It was one thing for Zemo to publicly humiliate his authority by robbing him, but he had indirectly threatened you by mentioning you to Bucky. You were his and his alone. He had invested far too much in securing you, ensuring that you’d never leave him. 

-

Bucky leaned on the doorframe of your apartment’s bedroom, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you step around the room. “What are you doing?”

“Going home,” You muttered, continuing to pack your suitcase.

“That’s on the other side of the country.”

“I know.”

“I can’t keep an eye on you if you’re in LA.”

You looked up from the clothes you were packing, glaring at him. “I know.”

Bucky let out a huff. “So you also know I can’t make sure you’re safe.”

You let out a dry laugh, eyes rolling. “I’ll probably be a lot safer once I’m far away from you.”

The man pushed himself off the door frame, now approaching you with long strides. “You’re not leaving (Y/N).”

You threw the shirt you hand in your hand down, turning to face him. “Yes, I am Bucky, because you lie to me!” Your voice was strained, eyes looking up at him full of pain.

“I didn’t lie to you-”

“Yes, you did! You lied to me about what you did and you hid the truth!”

When you and Bucky started dating, he told you he ran a large ‘supply and demand’ business in Brooklyn and that was it. Like the naive girl you were, who had just moved to the east coast, you believed him because you fell for him hard at first. He spoiled you and made you feel like a princess in public, and in private you helped him release all the pent-up stress he had built up from work. A few months later, you finally figured out why Bucky was always so protective of you and wanted to know where you were 24/7. 

Bucky could see the tears you were holding back, mentally cursing at himself for being the cause. He cupped your cheek with his normal hand. You had to resist the urge to lean into his hold.

“I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry, but…” His voice trailed off. In a swift motion, his metal hand wrapped around your waist lifting you up and over his shoulder. “You’re not leaving me (Y/N).”

“James Buchanan Barnes! Put me down this instant!” You slammed your fists into his back to no avail. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

“I love you too darling,” He mumbled, proceeding to walk you out of your apartment.

-

You were on the fourth chapter of your book when you heard a car door slam. You sprung up from your seat, moving as quickly as you could to greet Bucky at the front door. When you got there, you saw he had already let himself inside. His brows were knit together, looking down at the door’s locks.

“Why isn’t the door locked?” He questioned before he even saw you.

With the territorial instinct he had when it came to you and his meeting with Zemo earlier, it was clear he was not happy about such a small thing, no matter your excuse.

“Oh, I must’ve forgotten to lock it when I got the mail today,” You said quietly.

He had lectured you multiple times about how important it was you locked the door, even before you move in with him.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, properly greeting him with a smile like you did every day. You had done this so many times, you noticed how long it took for him to softly wrap a single arm around you before walking away. He was upset.

“Go to the bedroom and wait. Now,” He ordered.

Your heart started racing, wondering what was going to happen to you. If he had stress pent up, he would either wait until after dinner or start kissing you roughly the second he stepped in. He had only acted like this when you pushed him to his limit, like when you threatened to leave him or attempted to run away when he first forced you to live with him.

You sat at the edge of your shared bed, hands holding and fiddling with the hem of your dress. When Bucky was this angry, he was painfully rough to the point where you would begin crying. You quickly began thinking of everything you had done recently, wondering what could’ve pushed him to this point.

He walked in, jacket off and the sleeves to his white button-up rolled up to his elbows. Even though your mind was screaming with fear, your body started heating up with desire seeing him. Especially when your eyes glanced down to his pants and saw a hardness forming. ‘Fuck, he’s been thinking about this.’

Walking up to you, Bucky grabbed your chin with his thumb and index finger, forcing you to look up at him. As a sort of last-ditch effort to get some kindness from him, you gave him a doe-eyed look.

He leaned down, pressing a long kiss against your lips before pulling away. “Get on your knees.”

You took in a deep breath, accepting he wouldn’t be gentle. You pulled away from his cold metal hand, sinking down to stand before him on your knees. Keeping eye contact with him, you managed to under his brown leather belt and navy trousers. You looped your fingers at the hem of his pants, pulling them down along with his briefs just enough for his fully erect shaft to be freed. 

With both of your small hands wrapping around his shaft, you could feel yourself growing wet at the sound of his soft groan. At first, you started stroking his length slowly, leaning your face closer to lick the tip and swirl your tongue around the head.

Bucky didn’t allow you to continue this very long. Only a small dribble of precum was licked up before he grabbed a fist full of your hair from the back of your head and pushed himself further in. Another groan escaped him feeling the warmth of your mouth around his cock. He hit the back of your throat and you gagged, not yet ready for him to go deeper. He did it again two more times, warning you that he planned on having you take all of him in his mouth.

Your hands moved up to his thighs to hold yourself steady and you relaxed your throat the best you could in preparation. Once he started to push his dick further in, you could feel tears start to well up in your eyes as he went down your throat. You moaned each time he shoved his shaft down your throat, sending a soft vibration on his shaft.

Bucky eventually started thrusting his hips into your mouth, fully fucking your mouth as tears started to fall out of your eyes. Watching your glossy eyes stare up at him with his cock down your throat he nearly lost it, feeling his ballsack tighten. Not wanting to cum just yet, he pulled out, a string of your saliva falling off his dick and dribbling down your mouth. You gasped and began panting for air, wiping away your drool with the back of your hand.

He sat on the edge of the bed now, pulling your hips to stand in front of him once you stood up. “Off.”

You took off your dress, followed by your bra and wet panties. Already knowing what was going to happen, you moved to straddle his hips. You and Bucky had had sex numerous times before, but you always needed a moment to get used to his size. He wasn’t going to allow that.

With his large hands on your hips, he forced you down his entire dick, groaning at how tight your walls clenched around him.

“Bucky!” You cried out, body tingling as he filled you up, balls deep. 

He held your hips with such a strong grip you were sure there were going to be marks after. He bounced you up and down his cock, watching you with a dark gaze as you moaned and whimpered against him. Only he could make you feel like this, act like this for him.

He thrusted his hips up, and you moaned loudly, back arching as he hit a sweet sensitive spot. “Please!”

“Please, what?” Bucky asked, knowing full well what you wanted. He wanted you to beg.

“Fuck me right there Bucky! Please!”

More than happy to comply, he proceeded to slam into that same spot, your breath growing faster and cunt tighter each time it was hit. His breath was becoming heavy, and his movements ragged.

He watched as you looked down at him fucking you and saw you shudder. “Ah!” Your walls tightened and your release hit you, juices pouring out. Feeling you release triggered his own orgasm, releasing inside of you. You could feel spurt after spurt of hot cum filling you up and your tight cunt gladly took it.

He finally stopped bouncing you, rolling his hips into you and allowing you a few seconds of rest. He pulled his limp dick out but watching your pussy drip with a mixture of both your cum, he found himself hard once again. 

You barely had any time for your mind to clear up after, your eyes widening as Bucky forced you on your hands and knees. Not sparing a single second he rammed back into you, his hand smacking your ass hard. 

You let out a cry, the stinging pain from the spank only lasting for a short while before you felt the pain and pleasure of him filling you up again. 

“Tell me how much you love it,” He breathed out, watching your ass bounce against his hips with each thrust.

“Bucky!” You moaned out, your walls tightening around him again.

You barely had any time to recover from your last high and still sensitive. You started moving your ass against him, feeling his ballsack slapping your clit each time he thrusted. 

“I love it so much!” You breathed out. “I love feeling your big dick fill me up and fuck me!” 

You bit your lip, feeling the juices drip down your thighs. Your arms were starting to grow weak, barely able to hold yourself when you screamed again. Your pussy tightened and released, begging him to cum and fill you up again.

His large hands buried into your hips, continuing to fuck you as you released around him again. His build-up was growing with the sight of you taking his cock, thrusts growing sloppy. 

Bucky wasn’t blind and could tell your arms were going to give out. So, he released his grip on you with his metal arm to lean over you. He wrapped his arm around your chest, holding you up while squeezing your breast. 

Hearing your soft whimpers as he still fucked you did it for him, his hips bucking to release another hot load inside of you. He stayed in you until he finished then pulled out, releasing you to collapse on the bed. 

Weakly, you turned yourself on your back to look at him, face flushed and tear-stained. He lowered himself above you, metal arm pressed down near the side of your head to keep him above you. Bucky’s eyes danced over your facial features. His gaze moved down, watching your chest rise with each pant before looking at the mess in between your legs.

With his other hand, he reached down and dragged two fingers up your wet folds, gathering the juices on them. When he raised them back up to your face, both of your hands grabbed him and began to suck and lick his fingers clean.

“Christ you’re fucking beautiful.”

He pulled his fingers away, smashing his lips against yours. You wrapped your hands around his neck, a hand moving up to play and tug on his hair as you kissed.

[the7thcrow]

indulgence | part one

~

pairing: felix x (fem) vampire!reader series

summary: an indulgence grows to become dangerous, as the society of hampden college takes note of y/n’s new blood bag.

series masterlist.

word count: 4.9k

genre: forbidden love, angst (sorta), fluff, suggestive.

warnings: blood, suggestive content (kissing and a shirt comes off, nothing too crazy lmao), hook-ups (but nothing is explicitly described), strong language, and vampires ofc.

rating: 16+

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first fic, so i’m sorry if it’s a little messy. this is part one of what will be a series. i’d love to hear some feedback, so don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or message! i hope you enjoy!

...

..

.

You are late. The pattering of rain echos from atop your umbrella, the puddles of pooling water soaking your loafers as you hurry along the busy street. However, you pay no mind as the liquid seeps into your shoes, mud embedding itself along your pant leg. On a normal day, you’d scowl. You’d curse the shitty weather, and grumble as you marched home to change into a dry pair of shoes. Only today is different. Today it doesn’t matter, not when you have far greater troubles warranting your concern.

The Council isn’t pleased. They’d be even more upset, if that were even possible, if you arrived tardy. You can imagine their old, petulant faces, looking down on you with disgust. Perhaps even pity, seeing you as nothing more than a childish young girl, who’d been foolish enough to break her vow. You frown to yourself, that’s all they would ever see you as. It didn’t matter how the years passed by, to them you were, and would always be simply that. A child. Always younger, always naive. Most of all, always beneath them.

The headquarters becomes visible in the distance, clouded in the slight haze of fog. It appears to be like any other building on the Hampden Campus. Old and rustic, elegant in the way it was shaped and carved, a relic of history reflected in a modern day era. Only this building holds a far different tale than those surrounding it.

Far more bloody. Far more gruesome. A home to monsters.

Monsters like yourself.

You knock on the door. Twice, slowly. Then a pause, before three times quickly. A code, letting anyone inside know that you are, in fact, a member of The Society. 

The door opens with a creak, a young boy with electric blue hair peeking out through the crack. After recognizing your face, he smiles, ushering you in quickly as the door slams shut behind you.

“Y/N! It’s good to see you. It’s been a while, huh?” The boy says, casually leaning against the door. It has been a while, you never came to this god awful building unless it was absolutely necessary.

“I guess it has been. But it’s nice to see you too, Jeongin,” you speak warmly in return. You’ve known Jeongin for a couple years now, since he first arrived at The Society doorstep. Alone and confused. A freshling, having just been turned. While perhaps not physically, he’s certainly grown since then, in both confidence and courage.

Suddenly, the smile drops from his face, his expression becoming sullen. “I hear you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble,” he states. When you don’t respond, he continues. “It’s not true, is it? I know you wouldn’t-”

“Listen, Jeongin,” you cut him off quickly. You aren’t in the mood to be lectured, especially not by someone whose opinion you actually care about. “I’m already running late. I’ll catch up with you after, okay?”

“Wait, Y/N!” He calls after you, but you’ve already disappeared down the hall, heading towards the council room. You quickly cast a glance at your watch. Shit, five minutes late. They wouldn’t forget that.

With only a quick breath to gather yourself, you burst in through the large wooden doors. The silence in the council room is deafening, as all heads turn to face you. In all your life, you’ve never seen so many dissatisfied faces. 

“Ms. L/N,” the head councilman calls. He has an old face, embedded with wrinkles and a scalp of thinning white hair. Unlucky. He could have been beautiful, or at the very least, young. However, he must’ve been turned late. A pity, to stare at such a reflection for eternity. 

You stifle a laugh. The frown he always appeared to be wearing probably wasn’t helping. 

“Take a seat,” he states, motioning to the chair seated in the center of the room. How dramatic you think, to put you in the middle of so many staring eyes. While the council was only composed of three individuals, the room seems to be full of other lower ranked members of The Society. 

As you take your seat, your gaze wanders the room, landing on a familiar head of shaggy brown hair. His eyes bore into your own, his expression serious. Perhaps even angry, the longer he stares at you. 

You want to say something. Mostly, to ask him what the fuck he’s doing here. This isn’t any of Chan’s business, yet for whatever reason he has the audacity to stare at you as if it is. As if you will grant him answers. As if he deserves answers.

“Ms. L/N,” the chairman interrupts your thoughts. “Do you know why you’re seated here today?” 

Why are you seated here today? Well, that answer is complicated. How could you have possibly gotten yourself into such a mess? How could you have been so foolish? You knew the rules. You knew what was permitted and what was not. Yet, you chose to ignore these conditions.

Why? What could possibly have made you toss everything you’d promised to the side? 

Well, that story starts with a head of bright blonde hair, and a set of curious eyes.

~~~~

The library of Hampden College had become something of a second home to you. Late nights spent bent over a book, transcribing various philosophies and literature into latin. Sometimes greek, however you didn’t have quite the same knack for it. That’s where you found yourself tonight, your beaten down copy of The Iliad staring back at you from its place on the table. 

Your classics degree was coming along just fine. You didn’t mind the endless books to read and poems to analyze. Nor the papers you often found yourself crafting from this very spot in the corner of the library. It was always quiet, always solitary at this time. Even the night owl students having gathered their books, departing the library for a brief rest before their early classes the following morning.

Tonight however, was different. You heard the door creak open, glancing up as a boy appeared in the doorway. He had long blonde hair, fluffing at the nape of his neck. Sporting a sharp blazer and a pair of oxfords, you couldn’t deny he was well dressed. Perhaps that’s why he grabbed your attention immediately, you were attracted to effort. To someone who was put together, who cared. 

The boy took a seat just a few tables away from your own, gently setting his books down and disappearing into the maze of shelves to your left. You attempted to go back to your work, but couldn’t seem to find your focus. Who was this boy? You’d never seen him before in all your time at Hampden. Also, why would he possibly be at the library so late? You recognized the faces of those who while rare, might possibly be here at this time of night. He wasn’t one of them. 

You would remember if he was.

You strained your neck trying to find his figure, having lost him almost immediately.

“A fan of Homer?” A voice rang out from beside your ear. You jumped in shock, greeted by a sweet smile and wide eyes. The boy chuckled. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

You smiled sweetly, trying to calm your beating heart. “No worries. And well, you translate the entirety of Book Eight overnight into Greek, and tell me if you could still consider yourself a ‘fan of Homer.’”

The boy laughed before beginning to pull a chair out beside you. “May I?” He asked.

Looking back, you should have said no. You had a lot more work to do, and near no time to do it. Not to mention of course, rejecting him initially could have saved you from this whole mess. Instead you nodded, a grin forming at the corners of your lips as he sat down. 

“What’s your name?” He asked. His voice was sweet, sultry. Alarming in just how deep it was, not quite fitting his bright and youthful exterior. 

“Y/N, classics department. Yourself?”

“Felix,” he answered. There it was, the first time you heard the name that would cause your undoing. “I’m majoring in history. Listen,” he began, leaning in slightly closer as if he were going to tell you a secret, his voice lowering further. “I must say, I’m in here all the time, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

You hummed, leaning in closer to him as well. His eyes glinted. “Well that’s simple, I’m assuming you don’t frequent the library at-” you glanced at your watch- “2:32 in the morning.”

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed with something like concern. “You’re here every night at this time? Why?”

“Hey,” you began, not wanting to lose the playful nature to the conversation. You’d heard enough concerned voices to last a lifetime already. “Aren’t you here this late yourself? You’re in no place to judge.”

He laughed, and you knew you could get used to that sound. “Fair enough, I’ll leave it be.”

“Why are you here this late, anyway?” You asked.

“Oh, so you get to know my secrets, but I can’t know yours?”

“Of course.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, resting his head on the desk, cradled by his crossed arms. “If you must know, I couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d read some of your classics, thought they might help me doze off.”

You shoved his arm, to which he feigned a groan of pain, clutching his shoulder. “Excuse you,” you laughed. “I have a lot of Homer to struggle through, and no time for your cheap shots. You can go ahead and leave now.”

You were surprised when he got to his feet, worried for a moment he’d taken you seriously and was actually about to make his exit. Instead, he disappeared into the philosophy section, emerging with a copy of The Odyssey. Felix flopped down back in his chair beside you, extending his feet on top of the table and leaning backwards. 

“Well, then I guess I’ll suffer along with you,” he said. Without another word, he flipped towards the first page.

Felix was a good person to study with. Well, technically you weren’t studying with him, but nonetheless it was nice to have him in the room. He didn’t bother you, didn’t speak, just let you do your work. Sometimes you’d look up and meet his gaze, his eyes imploring you. Curious. Mischievous. 

Dangerous.

“Alright,” you yawned after an hour or so had passed by, stretching your arms high in the air. “I’m done.”

He smiled, slowly closing his book and setting it down on the table. “Yeah? Finally going to go home and sleep?” 

“Sleep? What’s that?” You said, playfully scoffing. “Nah, it’s already past 3:30, it’ll be 4 by the time I get back to my apartment. Not worth it at this point.”

“Hmm,” Felix hummed, a flicker of mischief in his growing smile. “What ever will you do to pass the time?”

“I don’t know,” you returned, excitement building in your chest. “But I suppose I’ll leave you now. You still have about 3 quarters of The Odyssey to get through, and I don’t want to tear you away from-”

You shouldn’t have been surprised when his lips crashed into yours, but you were. You let out a small “mff” against the sudden impact. It took your brain a second to catch up to speed on what was happening. Here you were, with this incredibly beautiful boy of whom you literally just met, kissing in the middle of the library. 

Your second thought was about how you’d never done this before. Not kissing someone, hell you’d done a lot more than just that. But never a stranger, and certainly never a human, for that matter. You had to be careful with who you got close to, you never knew who could be dangerous, who could be a hunter. Besides, The Society had rules, and this alone was undoubtedly breaking a few of them.

So what the hell were you doing?

You should stop this, you thought. But the more you settled into a rhythm, the more your worries trailed from your mind. Felix was a good kisser. A really good kisser. His lips were soft, warm, his breath sharp with the taste of mint. When the dork had a chance to pop a tic tac you didn’t know, but it made you smile against him. 

You ran your fingers through his hair, leaning into him. He groaned in response, moving his hands down your figure, settling in on your waist. Carefully he began to fiddle with the buttons at the bottom of your blouse, and with that it all suddenly became real.

“We can’t do this,” you breathed, finally breaking away from him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I went too far, I-” he began to apologize, frantically removing his hands from your body and shifting backwards into his chair.

“No,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips at his sweetness. You grabbed the collar of his shirt, gently tugging him closer to you. “We can’t do this here.” 

The Society had rules, plenty. Human’s, in any sort of relationship, were out of the question. Public displays of affection with even your own kind, especially of the more vulgar sort, were off limits as well. The idea was to not bring attention to yourselves, to not cause a scene. And if you were going to break one of these rules so terribly, you figured you could at least pay the respect to do so privately.

“Okay,” he mumbled, placing his forehead against your own. “Where should we go?”

“My place? It’s a little far from here, but I don’t have any roommates. So..”

Felix smiled, planting a soft, lingering kiss at the nape of your neck. “Lead the way.”

~~~~

The walk over to your apartment wasn’t awkward per say, it was simply...charged. Felix had his arm looped around your own, making your way silently down the dark, lantern lit path through campus. You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest, a desire thrumming down inside you, resurfacing. It had been a long time since you’d last been with someone. That last person being Chan, your ex as of eight months ago.

Things had been good with Chan. Great even, in the beginning at least. He was intense, thoughtful. He loved you deeply. Most of all, Chan understood. Like you, he was a member of The Society. He was under every restriction you were, and felt all the same frustrations. 

Of course, not all good things can last. Eventually your relationship began to sour. Your arguments became full on brawls. Your differences and quirks became unbearable. You couldn’t be in the same room without being at one another's throats. You were the one who finally decided to end things. 

Chan was the only man you’d ever loved, and since him you’d never entertained the thought of being with another. Until now, that is. You glanced towards Felix, who was staring ahead down the street, his eyes dark. You could feel his own desire radiating off of him, visible in the way he slowly swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. Besides, Felix could give you something more. Something Chan could never.

No. You stopped yourself. That wouldn’t be happening tonight. It would only make things more complicated, more dangerous. Still, you could feel it deep inside you, pounding for control. That familiar, incessant hunger. The more you tried to ignore it, the more it was there. Becoming stronger as your ears focused in on Felix’s heart beat, the sound of blood pumping through his veins.

You were pulled from your thoughts as the sight of your apartment complex appeared in front of you. Quietly you entered, making your way up the stairs and towards your own door. Releasing your arm from Felix’s, you fumbled for your keys in your purse. Giving him a small smile, you twisted your key in the lock, and allowed him inside.

The moment you closed your apartment door, all bets were off. Felix tossed his books onto your kitchen table, clashing into you with a speed that almost made you lose your own breath. You felt your back press against the wall behind you, Felix’s lips devouring your own. Desperate and wanting.

He quickly revisited the buttons of your blouse, this time starting at the top and beginning to make his way down. All the meanwhile his lips traced your neck, gently brushing against your skin. With every new kiss fueling your own desire, you slowly began to rock your hips into his own. This was escalating. Fast. As he finished with the last button, he allowed your blouse to drop from your shoulders, smiling to himself as he took you in. 

“Your turn,” you breathed, tugging at the collar of his shirt as a signal to take it off. He did so, absent-mindedly tossing it aside into your living room. He took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up at him, staring deeply into your eyes. Then he proceeded to say the very last thing you ever expected him to:

“Look at your eyes… You haven’t fed in weeks, have you?”

You slapped his hand away and shoved him off of you, rushing to the otherside of the room, putting the coffee table between yourselves. “How-How do you?” You stammered, physically unable to form a complete sentence. How could he possibly know what you were? How did he even know you existed?

Felix’s eyes widened, clearly shocked by your reaction. “No, no. Don’t worry!” He said frantically, outstretching his hand to you. “Listen, I’m not going to hurt you or anything. I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry! I’m sorry.”

You stared at him, disbelievingly. “Yeah? And how do I know that?” You let this man into your home, your safe space. How could you have been so stupid?

“Look, I grew up around Vampires okay? My neighbors, back in my childhood home, they were like you. I know the signs. I know how your eyes blow out when you’re hungry, the way they glaze over when you haven’t fed in a while. That’s it. I didn’t even realize until I got a good look at you, back when you were translating. It’s no big deal, really.”

You scoffed. No big deal? Felix didn’t seem to realize just how big of a deal it actually was. Humans weren’t supposed to know what you were, certainly not at Hampden. The Society had made well sure of that. God, if The Council saw you now...

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I should have told you back at the library. I honestly didn’t think it would freak you out this much. That’s on me,” he said, inching slightly closer to you. Despite yourself, you didn’t move away.  “I’m serious though, it’s been a while since you last fed. Hasn’t it?”

A while was an understatement. The Society had been going through a shortage of blood bags, after having severed their connections with one of the nearby hospitals. Meaning if you wanted to drink, it would have to be from one of their Certified Donors. Which was another, fancier and far more innocent way of saying prisoners. These were humans who had given their lives to The Society, some willingly and others not so much.

You didn’t like going to their quarters. Located in the basement of the main district, it was always quiet down there. Always solemn. You’d never been to a place lacking so much hope. You’d only gone once, and drinking from that man still haunts you to this day. The way he didn’t move or speak, or even wince when your fangs broke his skin. The way his eyes were hollow and empty. How when you were done he simply laid down in his bed and turned away from you, without another word. 

The Certified Donors were what made you begin to hate The Society in the first place. Since then, your resentment only seemed to grow. 

You sighed, walking past him and flopping onto your couch. “Yeah, it’s been a while,” you confessed.

Felix carefully approached you. Instead of seating himself next to you, he got down on his knees, resting a hand on your thigh. “It’s okay, you can use me. I don’t mind.”

You were ready to tell him no, the word lingering on the tip of your tongue. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. Perhaps it was your hunger, the fact that a few more weeks in this drought, you might actually become ill. 

Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that you wanted to disobey the society. That this little act of rebellion, this utterly wrong indulgence, was what made your desire grow unbearable, unchained. You hated The Council, you hated the Certified Donor system, and you hated the way they had such a firm grip and control on your life.

A beautiful boy was seated in front of you, begging you to drink from him. How could you possibly say no? Better yet, why would you say no? To deprive yourself of something so great, for something you despised so deeply seemed ridiculous. That was the moment your judgment lapsed, that you crossed the point of no return. If you drank from Felix, there would be no going back. If the council found out, there would be consequences. Big ones.

But who doesn’t love a little risk?

You sunk down to meet him on the floor, staring at his bare chest. You could hear his heart pumping, its pace quickening the closer you got to him. 

“Are you sure about this?” You asked.

“Yes,” he whispered. You shifted your position. Not quite seating yourself in his lap, but hovering above, your knees on either side of him. 

“This might hurt a little bit,” you warned. You extended your fangs, approaching his neck, carefully. You didn’t realize until then how nervous you were. It had been a long time since you’d fed from a human. You’d drank from Chan of course, but he was also a vampire, and your blood didn’t have quite the same effect. There was pleasure in it, usually accompanied in moments of ecstasy, but it didn’t replenish you. It didn’t heighten your senses, nor fill you with energy. Most of all, it didn’t satisfy your hunger, your thirst. Not at all.

Felix’s blood would. 

You kept this in mind as you finally plunged your fangs into his neck. Felix let out a gasp, tensing beneath you, his hand clutching onto your arm for support. The taste of his blood grazed your tongue, metallic and warm. Delicious.

Fuck, did blood ever taste this good before? You didn’t think so.

The sweet taste consumed you. Intoxicating. Raw. Cascading over your mind in a blanket of pleasure, reveling in the way its effects seeped over your body. You could feel your mind growing sharper, your senses becoming more alert. It was a relief, after weeks of blurry weakness, of being too close to humanity in your thirst. You felt yourself again, the monster you are. The monster you are glad to be.

Here you were powerful. Invincible. And all you wanted was more. More. More.

More of this power, this sensation, this strength. This is what feeding should be. What feeding can give you. Not from a blood bag, nor a helpless prisoner, but from someone you want. Someone you desire. Someone who desires you in return.

It was as you felt Felix’s grip on your arm loosen that you finally broke away, breathing hard as you caught your breath. Felix’s eyes shifted to yours lazily, dazed. Perhaps even delirious. For a moment you feared that you’d taken too much. He blinked slowly, his eyes regaining focus.

Then he smiled. “Shit Y/N…” he began, his voice appearing more of a croak. “That felt really fucking good.” 

You grinned, leaning into him and pressing a series of kisses up along his jaw. Felix shivered, allowing his hands to slowly slide up your figure. Wanting.

“Yeah?” You whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. “Then how about we continue where we left off?”

      ~~~~

The next morning you woke to the sound of your alarm buzzing, sunlight peeking through the opening of your drapes. You heard a low groan next to your ear, quickly becoming aware of the hand wrapped around your waist. 

So last night really happened. The reality of your situation dawned on you. You’d both drank from and fucked a human. There was no going back now, you’d completely disobeyed The Society.

Worst of all? You didn’t care. At least, not near as much as you should have. 

You shifted to face Felix, seeing his eyes still closed, eyebrows furrowed. “Hey,” you whispered, planting a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. “We have to get up. I have class.”

He groaned again in protest, shaking his head and burying his face into the crook of your neck. Between last night's events and the ringing of your alarm, you both only got about two hours of sleep, and that was being generous. This was no problem for you, as while sleep was a luxury, it was not a necessity. The same didn’t go for Felix.

“Come on,” you laughed, worming out of his grasp. “You’ll be fine, I’ll go make us some coffee.”

You rolled out of bed, throwing on Felix’s discarded shirt and heading towards your kitchen. Flicking on the radio, you felt oddly blissful as you grounded the coffee beans into a filter. It had been a long time since there’d been another person in your apartment. It made the space seem less… haunted. No longer lingering with the essence of Chan’s ghost. It felt fresh. New. 

Felix emerged from your bedroom, rubbing his eyes sleepily, sporting only his khaki’s from the past day. His gaze met yours and he smiled. “So, I take it my shirt is yours now?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, leaning forward over your kitchen counter. Felix bent down, causing you to become nose-level with one another. The close proximity made your heart race.

“Mean,” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss you softly. There was no unchained desire, no promise of more. It was simple, warm. A morning of peace after a night of wildness.

You could get used to this, you thought.

The thought sunk in your chest like a stone. This wouldn’t be as simple as you wanted to be, as you needed it to be. There would be sacrifices to make, and cautions you’d have to adhere to. You had to get the truth out in the open. Better to rip the bandaid off now rather than later.

 “Felix, you can’t tell anyone about this.” You said. The smile faded from Felix’s face, and for a moment he looked so… hurt. He stepped back.

“About the feeding? Y/N, I wouldn’t tell anyone what you are, don’t worry about-”

“No, not just the feeding. About us. About any of it.”

Felix opened his mouth to say something, but then quickly closed it. His gaze hardened. “Ah. Got it,” he stated sharply, grabbing his blazer and motioning to the door. “I’ll just head out then.”

“Wait, Felix! No, it’s not like that,” you said, rushing around the kitchen island and reaching for his arm. He turned around to face you, his expression wounded. “Listen, I don’t know how it was with your old neighbors, but here at Hampden things are different. There’s certain rules we have to follow, and what you and I did? Well, that broke about a hundred of them.”

Felix was silent for a moment, then sighed. “Okay… But what do you mean rules? Who’s enforcing them? Hampden?”

“No, it’s bigger than that. There’s a group of us here, a society. There are rules we abide by, and they’re meant to keep us safe. Keep us united,” you explained.

“Like a cult?” Felix asked, and you had to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Well, if that helps you, then whatever. Yeah, sure. A cult.”

“Where do you-”

“I’m sorry,” you cut him off. “But that’s all I can really tell you, at least for now. Honestly, the less you know, the better. Just for safety’s sake.”

“Oh. Alright,” Felix said, his lips pursed. He wasn’t pleased, that much was obvious.

“I know this sucks, I’m sorry. But if we want to keep doing this-”

“Wait,” Felix interrupted, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “You want to keep doing this? I thought you’d get in trouble?”

You smiled, and were pleased to see the corners of his mouth curve up in return. “I’ve already risked getting myself in trouble.” You trailed your finger along the bare of his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. He was so alive, so real. And it only made you want him more. Perhaps, that’s why he wanted you as well. You were unpredictable, wild. A challenge. 

A match made in hell.

“I dug myself a grave, Lix.” You looked up at him, entranced by the curiosity swimming in his eyes. “Might as well lie in it.”

~~

next chapter 

[foenixs]

Curious Puppies

note: corruption kink go brrr with this scenario

word count: 954

includes- sub!Yonghee x sub!Hyunsuk, corruption kink (but like, they're both innocent and don't know how naughty they are being rn), handjob, blowjob, size kink

if you like my fics please reblog them with a nice comment or tag

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this fuckn made me feel dizzy af

Yonghee had always been a curious puppy, hugging the members excitedly and craving physical contact at any given moment, but today he was particularly touchy towards Hyunsuk.

They were alone at the dorms, playing uno on the floor and every time Yonghee made the younger boy pick up four cards he would slap his hand onto Hyunsuk’s thigh in laughter.

“UNO UNO”, Yonghee exclaims excitedly, tackling Hyunsuk to the ground in what was supposed to be both a victorious hug and a comforting apology.

But as he sits back up to look at unlucky man, he notices a tent in Hyunsuk’s crotch that hadn’t been there before. Unable to hold back his curious finger he pokes the bulge and Hyunsuk shivers, a slight whimper escaping him.

“I’m so sorry”, Yonghee apologizes instantly, leaning down to blow onto Hyunsuk’s bulge as if to cure a wound. The hot breath that lightly fans against his crotch has the younger boy shivering, though he wasn’t quite sure what of.

The older boy’s stare lingers on, focused on the way the tent grew slightly with every blow. Looking up at Hyunsuk, who was biting his lip in anticipation, Yonghee asks if he can unbutton the younger boy’s pants and Hyunsuk nods in consent.

As Yonghee gently tucks the sweatpants down his bandmate’s thighs, Hyunsuk’s hard cock springs free. The seated boy blinks rapidly, admiring the way the other boy’s member twitched just like his own would when he silently touched himself at night.

He lets his thumb graze the underside of Hyunsuk’s cock, tracing the throbbing veins and he holds one of the younger boy’s legs still as it begins to shiver.

“Does that feel good?”

There is nothing but wonder and curiosity in Yonghee’s eyes as he starts to apply pressure to Hyunsuk’s tip, adapting his motions in search for the sweet whimpers that he wanted to hear again.

He flips his cock from left to right, using one finger to stroke up and down, then two. If someone were to walk in on them at this very moment, they would probably deem the two boys crazy bored. But Yonghee speeds up, finding a rhythm that has Hyunsuk moaning and begging for more and he feels proud of himself for solving this strange puzzle.

A white pearl springs from the tip of the younger boy’s cock, dripping down his slit slowly, as if to edge Yonghee on. The sight has the older boy licking his lips, leaning down to chase the pearl as if he was longing for the forbidden fruit. As soon as his tongue finds the taste, Yonghee scrunches his face, rubbing his wet digit off against Hyunsuk’s thigh.

“Ewww”, he pronounces, laughing at himself, but the younger boy just lies there with his back bent and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

"Did that feel good?", Yonghee questions with a head tilt when he finds his calm again. He tries to test his theory by leaving a kitten lick up the side of Hyunsuk’s cock and indeed, the younger boy moans louder than ever.

“Again, please, that feels so good!”

Though he despised the taste of the white liquid, Yonghee wanted to be a good hyung and take care of his younger bandmate, so he gathers all his pride to leave quick little licks along the hard muscle.

Hyunsuk’s nails dig into the working boy’s shoulders as he was panting and drooling over himself, growing more desperate with each lick.

“Please take it in your mouth- ahh”, he scrunches up his nose, his chest heaving heavily as he tries his best to control his shaking body.

“Bu- but it’s so big...”, Yonghee holds up Hyunsuk’s cock by the shaft, looking at it with big eyes as he tries to imagine what it would feel like in his mouth. He gulps down a nervous whimper, dropping his jaw as far as he could before he engulfs the tip of the younger boy’s length in his wet hole.

Yonghee stays still, overwhelmed by the heavy feeling of the maknae’s cock on his tongue. He slurps up the spit that threatens to run down the precious length and the sucking motion has Hyunsuk’s hand land in the older boy’s hair, pushing him further onto his dick.

Yonghee chokes out, too full to function, but the gag reflex brings him to his senses, and he grabs onto Hyunsuk’s wrist to stop his guiding motions. Bobbing his head up, he halts before the younger boy’s cock can plop out of his mouth, skinning down again as he breathes out through his nose.

Working his head in a slow motion, Yonghee tightens his grip around the squirming boy’s shaft, watching Hyunsuk arch his back through hooded eyes. The younger boy wipes the sweat of his forehead, moaning out for his bandmate to go faster when his cock hits the back of his throat.

He curls his toes against the floor, grinding his teeth, his wrist shaking in Yonghee’s hold as his stomach tenses and relaxes. Hyunsuk’s eyes begin to water as an overwhelming feeling of pressure rains down on him and he jolts his hips upwards as he cums down Yonghee’s throat.

The older boy tries to lap up Hyunsuk’s juices like an obedient puppy, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration as he gulps down his salty reward.

He sits back up to catch his breath and Hyunsuk’s shiny cock rests against his stomach.

Their hungry stares had yet to be satisfied as they fall upon Yonghee’s crotch, his longing dick twitching in its restraints. The older boy smiles nervously as Hyunsuk flips him on to his back, spreading his legs to await the return of the favour.

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masterlist

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taglist: @edolieeh , @sub-hoshi-enthusiast , @seungsiksprotector , @subbyboyhaven

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Summer of Whump #4: Escape

Warnings: drugging, vomit, blood

Villain's face was smacked against the roof of a "Villain Containment Practices" AKA a VCP car. He groaned and elbowed the ruthless Hero who dared to lay hands on him.

"Calm down," the unlucky Hero seethed. "Things will be easier for you."

"But not for you," Villain sassed which resulted in the hero lifting his head and smacking his nose hard.

"Will you mind?!" Villain yelled. He felt blood pouring out of his nose and draining into his mouth. Broken. He groaned, annoyed.

"Serves you right," the hero taunted close to Villain's ear. She pulled on his earlope and clicked the handcuffs into place.

The second that Villain was settled into the VCP car, he started blabbering and wiping his nose against his sleeve.

"Okay," he said between wipes. "So here's how it happened. I was literally walking home, minding my own beeswax, when this homesless guy comes up to me. Now, me? I am very clean and I like my cleanliness. So anyways, this guy comes up to me and now, he is begging for money and I'm like, 'Dude, personal space here'. I mean, of course this guy has no etiquette skills so he attacks me. Now, my wallet was in my pocket. Still is, for your information, you can find some nice cash in there. Anyways, this guy he touches my wallet and tries to grabs it- wait, guys, I shouldn't be being arrested. It was self-defense! Hey, hey!" Villain reached his hand forward and jostled one of the hero's head. "Wakey, wakey," he said. The hero turned and scowled at him.

"Did you hear me?" Villain asked. "It was self-defense."

"But, Villain, did you have to steal that guy's own wallet and hospitalize him?" The hero asked. "We know that he was doing something illegal also, but he being taken care of. So, please, shut up."

"But, but," Villain whined.

"Zip."

Villain threw himself back against the leather seats, scowling himself. This was unfair. Why couldn't he be a normal citizen without being arrested?

He placed a hand over his nose and summoned his healing powers. In a flash of painful light, the nose clicked into place.

"I thought we inhibited his powers," The driving hero mumbled to the other.

"Shoot. Pull over," the other, also known as the sassy one who broke Villain's nose (we'll call him Nosey), hopped out of the car and joined Villain in the backseat with a clipboard.

"So, Villain," Nosey said. "We are going to have to administer a power suppressor. Do you have any allergies to any drugs or medications?"

Villain glanced at Nosey with a "you serious?" expression. He then shook his head.

"Verbal confirmation."

"No you idiot," Villain snarled. "Are you blind in there." He waved a hand in front of Nosey's face.

"Cut the attitude man," Nosey warned and started to recite all of the questions in a bored tone like they have done this one too many times. Villain answered with the same montone tongue, sneering at Nosey like he was trash- which, in Villain's mind, he was.

"Okay," Nosey finished and plucked a hypodermic needle from their pocket. Villain watched suspiciously as they filled it up with a clear liquid from a small bottle. It was something actually from a pharmacy, he could tell. He reached forward and plucked the bottle out of the other's hands with a sharp, "Gimme."

Villain quickly skimmed over the words, stopping at each -zephines or -pams with a confused look on his face.

"What's in this?" Villain asked. Before Nosey replied, they jabbed the needle into Villain's neck and administered the contents.

"Hey!" Villain exclaimed, pulling the needle out. Almost immediately, he was hit by a cold sensation.

"Hey," he mumbled drowsily, his eyelids drooping. "Did-did you drug me?"

Nosey grabbed Villain's chin and forced the Villain to look at them.

"Of course, you were quite intolerable," then they reached behind them and pulled out another needle. The power suppressor.

Nosey easily emptied the drug into the vein on Villain's wrist with a satisfied smile at Villain's shock. They then unbuckled Villain and helped him lay down on the seats.

"Sweet dreams," Nosey said right before the darkness engulfed Villain.

Villain woke in a damp room, shivering out of his skin. He groggily looked around, found nothing of interest, and closed his eyes again. He vaguely recognized that the drug was still running through his system- whether it be the sedative or the suppressor, he didn't know which. He also knew that he should take advantage of the chance to rest while he had it.

That "chance to rest" actually became only five minutes. The damp coolness of the cell was replaced by a gust a warm air. Villain didn't care, or didn't realize, that Hero was standing in front of him.

He did open his eyes, however, when he heard Nosey's pipsqueak voice, "I thought he was awake."

"He is probably still drugged up," Hero said in her calm, orderly tone. "Oh there he is," she ran her fingers over Villain's cheek, checking for any type of reaction. Finding none, she stepped back and whispered something to Sidekick that Villain couldn't make out.

His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, but being the positive guy he was, he decided on cotton candy. Make the situation a little better.

He closed his eyes again, even though Nosey and Hero were standing right there and talking about him. He picked up bits and pieces:

"Move him to a warmer cell, one with a bed," came Hero's assertive voice.

"He doesn't deserve it!" came Nosey's ear-shattering chirps of a voice.

"He is laying on the ground in a cell, hardly able to keep his head from rolling around. Make him comfortable. He needs the rest for what's about to come."

Even though Hero's voice was indeed calming, it still made Villain's heart pump faster. They were going to so something to him. He frowned weakly- hardly a frown in the hero's eyes. He didn't know why, but it sounded like they were going to do more than just hurt him.

Kill him, or maybe do tests on his healing powers.

Villain whimpered loudly which brought the heros attention. His eyes were squeezed shut, unable to look at them. A wave a fear came over him when someone's (hopefully not Nosey's) arms wrapped around him and lifted him from his spot. He squirmed, trying to break free.

"Shut up," came a sing-song voice. It made Villain freak out, kicking and panting. It was Nosey. Nosey was touching him.

"Sheesh," Nosey exclaimed at the outburst and readjusted Villain so that they (Nosey) was much more comfortable, but the newly formed position stressed Villain's limbs.

"W- w," Villain croaked. "... taking?"

"Aw look at you, so out of it and quiet. Hardly able to form a complete word," Nosey gave a fake pouty face that Villain didn't even register.

Sleep once again tugged at him, but he tried to keep his eyes pried open. He would never forgive himself if he fell asleep in Nosey's arms.

Suddenly, after what seemed like an eternity of floating through the air, Villain was sat down on a bed. Without any resistance, he allowed his limbs to be moved around and a thick, warm blanket to be draped over his body.

He closed his eyes, relishing the warmth and inviting comfort. He let out a few grumpy mutterings as the drug took hold once again and he fell into a deep slumber that only time could wake him from.

Nosey left immediately after tucking Villain in, if they even called it that. More like heeding to their boss's orders, but they hated it. Hated the way that Villain was being treated like a hero himself.

Hero entered the warm cell that Villain was placed in. The room was much nicer than the damp one, with a bed, light, and heating unit, but still a cell nevertheless.

She walked over to Villain's sleeping figure and traced his cheek with her long, unkept, fingernails. He didn't stir, which was good. Very carefully, she lifted the covers off and placed her hand on his chest.

And then she worked her powers, digging into Villain's conscience. It was foggy, which was understandable, and very difficult to navigate through, but she still found her destination.

The truth about what happened.

She watched the scene in her head. An imposter homeless man stalking up to Villain, asking for cash. Villain refused, beginning to walk away, but the homeless guy took out a gun and smacked the back of Villain's head. Villain then wheeled around and shoved the man against a nearby wall, giving him a round of punches. As Villain performed his beating, the homeless guy reached around and took Villain's wallet out. Villain quickly finished his work with a devastating punch that left the man in a heap. He then swooped down and grabbed his stolen wallet with a shrug.

Hero gasped and stepped backwards, quickly making sure that Villain didn't wake up. He didn't, so Hero put the blanket back over him and left the room.

As she strolled down the hallway, she thought of the feeling that she was getting from Villain's memories. Innocence. Villain was innocent. Not that he didn't do the extravagant illegal works that he regularly took part in, but that he had no idea that what he was doing was wrong.

He was misguided.

It took Villain some time to completely recover from the suppressor, but when he did, boy he felt like he could fly to the moon and back.

The downside of having healing powers was that you needed them for everyday function. They run your body systems like your nervous system does. It powers them like food and water does, so when those were taken away, Villain's body went on momentarily shut down. Hopefully Hero realized this before she decided to drug him again.

One day, Hero entered his cell as he was picking through breakfast. He had no recollection of Hero's impediment of his memories only days before.

"Villain," Hero cleared her throat and eyed Villain's plate in curiosity. "It's not poisoned," she laughed, wondering why he wasn't eating much.

"Not hungry," Villain replied, glancing at Hero for a brief second.

"You need the energy. We are going to start, uh, well, work today."

"Work?" Villain asked, absent-mindly.

"Yes. You are a prisoner," the words hurt Hero almost as much as she was the one receiving them. He really wasn't a prisoner. He was going to get reformed, learn morals, and hopefully become a hero, which was a long shot, but one should always hope for the best.

Hero sat on his bed as he finished lapping up the breakfast, which took a good thirty minutes. Hero was patient, however. Villain would need time to be assimilated into a hero's society. Spending some time in silence, watching him eat was insignificant compared to what he was about to do.

Two days later, Villain was throwing up in a toilet. Throwing up, not due to sickness or eating something funny, but from stress and exertion. The exercises that the heros made him, along with all the other "reforming" villains, were insane and taxing. Not to mention the mental strain with all of the "moral speeches" and assessments. Mulitple choice questions like: Which is the right thing to do when you see someone being beat up? A.) Call the cops or heros; B.) Stop the fight; C.) Talk them out of it calmly; or D.) All of the above. Villain put down B.

He failed the test.

Villain rested his forehead against the cool toilet seat. He had to get out of here. Runaway and leave. If only two days led up to the this, Villain glanced down at the bloody vomit in the toilet, then what would two weeks result in? Power suppressing? Villain shuddered. He couldn't go through that again.

So, Villain made the decision right then and there, infront of the toilet, that he would escape tonight and leave the city.

Forever.