#the ball chapter can't come soon enough

[arrapso]

For best girl @doriana-gray-games c: , year 2

[lilacgaby]

‧₊˚truth bomb!‧₊˚

getting hit by a truth quirk? not so fun. dealing with it while having a huge crush on bakugo katsuki? even worse.

- ღpairing. 3rdyear!katsuki x reader. tags. friends to lovers, truth telling quirk, wingmen, kissing scenes, confessions, fighting, miscommunication trope, U-A girls love you, she/her pronoun use, fem!reader, earthquirk!reader. wc. 8k

- ღnote. i win the slowest writer ever award! anyways, i wrote this in chapter form here, this is a rework of my first work ever, and i completely changed the plot for anyone who might have read itt

this wasn't how your mission was supposed to go.

the thought ran through your head as you resisted the urge to bang your head against the concrete. that fate would probably be better than whatever you'd face having to confess, out of your will, to your longtime crush, katsuki.

but, the day started out normal enough. you were on a patrol, randomly scheduled as all your patrols usually were because of your mentor, mirko. she lacked the traditional agency and took missions as she pleased, which meant you'd usually be along for the ride.

which entailed things like this, walking boredly along the streets, running your fingers along metal pipes, trying to find something- anything to quench your eternal boredom.

it didn't work though.

you finally groaned, rolling your eyes as you looked at mirko, who seemed oddly determined. “we've been walking in this place for like– what? an hour? it's so boring!” you kicked a rock, making it clash against a random trash can.

“a deserted town is perfect, it's exactly what an up and coming villain group would want to start up. think before you speak for once.” she chided, not even looking over at you as she continued walking forth. “anyways, you should be able to feel it, can't you? they're close.”

sure enough, you could. the vibrations of their movement, the reverberation of their voices bouncing off the walls of the random alleyway of where you two stood felt as you focused your stance.

they were close. you sighed, though now of relief that you'd finally be able to beat them and get out of here as soon as you can, you stretched your hands and fingers, getting ready to manipulate the ground below you. “well then what are you waiting for? let's go!”

mirko nodded, and wordlessly followed you as you two positioned yourselves on a rooftop above the rowdy group of villains. they were laughing heartily, seemingly unaware and full of glee as they continued down the city streets. the sun was coming down, golden sunlight illuminating your figure as you closed your eyes and focused in on their positions, trusting your quirk more than your vision.

you stomped lightly and closed your eyes, feeling their positions out perfectly, as well as mirko’s readied stance beside you. nobody was around for miles, on the ground at least, so you focused in to hear their words.

mocking cries of innocent civilians left the mouth of the biggest one. “oh, please don't hurt me!” he cried, a fake squeaky voice cut off by his laughter. “oh man, what a pathetic excuse for a human.”

“fleeting the town completely in what? two days? we're the shit man.” another replied, high-fiving amongst themselves as they snickered and giggled.

they held bags of money and prized belongings in their grasps, smirks and sneers as they lugged them down the city. the one they seemed to think they ‘owned’ now that the civilians fled to safety. one that they were making a mess of.

you felt mirko’s figure, the growing hostility in her stance. the balling of her fist and her legs that were ready to pounce at any given moment.

“i'm all clear.” you whispered. “on your call, i'm ready.”

you could even feel the twitch of her ears, the wind blowing a spare leaf of the ground, but most importantly,

you felt the millisecond where she lowered to jump.

in response you launched the ground underneath you with a flick of the hand, landing yourself perfectly next to mirko. she held out a fist to the group, who jumped at the sight of you two.

“listen up losers!” she began, pointing a daunting finger at the biggest of the group, who had a literal screw growing out the base of his neck. a shiver went down your spine at the sight. “you can beg for forgiveness now, or later! which is it?”

a moment of silence passed, before one of them declared, “how about never? attack!”

half of the group focused on mirko, while the others were now facing you. you sighed, fixing yourself in a relaxed stance, before swiftly punching up to launch chucks of rock and steel out of the ground, into the bodies of the offending men coming towards you.

a few of them dodged, making you repeat the same attack again, since you really didn't feel like going full strength for villains at this level. your eyebrows furrowed as you realized one of them had taken the opportunity to make a break for it, but ignored it for now as the final guy stood against you.

mirko stole your spotlight though, landing a kick in his hand that rendered him unconscious.

“hey. i called dibs.” you whined, before walking over to her. “alls fair in love and war.” she said, before pointing to the almost comically large bags of money and jewelry. “we need to clean these up and get these guys locked up. round up the bags and i'll get the corpses– uh. bodies.”

with a reassuring smirk, she threw around the bodies into a pile, making you wince at the sound of their groans. you went to move all the money and things into an area for the collection agency.

you moved a bag or two, onto your third bag when a sound was suddenly heard behind you. “freeze.”

an unconfident, shaky, and out of breath voice filled your ears. you froze, not knowing who it was.

“n-now turn around. slowly.” he ordered. you did as he said, noting that his hand was pointing towards you in a handgun motion. the tips of his fingers were glowing a strange light green color. “o-okay. you’re gonna leave all the money there, just for me. okay lady?”

you shrugged, looking back at your work. “i mean, that was the plan anyways. a collection agency is gonna come for you and your friends soo–.”

“no, they're not.” he cut you off with a snarl. “i don't think i gave you permission to talk.”

“but you're still talking to me anyways!”

“why you– teenage brats are the worst. i tried not to kill kids, but you're annoying.” the green light emitted even brighter.

“bye.” the ray was about to shoot at you. you didn't have time to block, but mirko last minute shoved the guy to the ground.

his hand still managed a shot, though with his arm up in the air, it moved from being aimed to your heart, to..

shooting towards your mouth.

you didn't dodge in time, not expecting to get shot in your mouth of all places.

it didn't hurt, but it did feel tingly. the guy was slammed to the ground, his face flat with the floor as your hands shot up to feel the skin around your mouth.

you were.. fine?

“hey!” mirko cut off your thoughts. “you okay? what did he do to you? fuck i should've been quicker.”

“i'm fine. honestly you should have been quicker, i was really stalling here.”

“oh.. well im glad to hear you're fine at least.”

“you heard that??” you were shocked to hear her response, you only meant to say that mentally. you really were just going to say it was fine like always, so why..

why wasn't your mouth listening to you?

“no. like you don't understand mirko, i didn't mean to say that-”

“we all slip up sometimes.”

“no. like, it left my mouth before i realized it.”

her eyes widened, before thumping on the guys head below her. “hey you. what exactly did you do to her? huh?”

at no response, she wacked him against the ground again. “hellooo? i'll do it as many times as i need to-”

“no! please, fine fuck- i'll tell you!”

the collection agency finally was heard in the distance. mirko glared. “talk. fast.”

“okay, okay!” the man was once again shaking. “my quirk is enhancements, but I control how exactly it enhances the body–”

“i didn't ask for a life story. get to the point.”

“well! i wanted to aim for the heart and enhance heart rate, which would of killed her! but– um. i accident aimed for her mouth, and enhanced.. honesty.”

“i see. for how long will it be?”

“uh.. a week i think.”

“huh, why would you become a villain with a quirk like yours anyways? final question before you're shipped off to jail.”

“well, i wanted to bring out the best in the worst, to show that even we villains can triumph!”

“..okay.” she left him on the ground and walked away with you by her side. you were heading back to the U-A dorms to drop you off.

“so, you can't lie to me, huh?”

“nope.” your answer left you before you could process it, like a mental disconnection between your actions. “don't do that, it isn't funny!”

she raised her hands up defensively. “okay, okay. i won't.”

…

“so am i your favorite hero or what?”

“yes.”

“really? since when?” she chided.

“since your debut, i was a hardcore fan for a long time.”

“was?”

“learning the real you killed the rose-tint in my glasses.”

“oh..” she put a hand over her heart. “ouch?”

“you wanted the truth.” you sneered. which wasn't really the right choice at this point, since she took that as liberty to start questioning your every move.

the worst 20 questions of your life was played as you walked home, your legs burning with ache of exhaustion was nothing over the mental anguish of being around a happy-go-lucky mirko.

you finally made it, the dorms in view as she decided to ask you one final question.

“so, my darling apprentice [name]. got any more ideas for questions?”

“no! so stop asking them!”

“you're no fun. hmm, let's see. oh! do you have a crush?”

don't say it, you repeated mentally in your mind, but you felt the oddly numb sensation of the answer leaving you.

“bakugo katsuki.”

her eyes widened and jaw went slack. “seriously? i thought i raised you better.” she joked, poking your side as you went to cover your face with your hands.

the church bells welcomed you as the golden staircase was opened from the clouds. step by step you took, angels singing and a halo over your head as you were greeted by loved ones past–

but your peaceful departure wasn't peaceful for very long.

“well, as long as you're happy [name]. i'll be going now, text me!”

she walked off with a smile that made you feel sick, but you couldn't resist the urge to wave goodbye anyways.

you leant up against the gate of the opening, your arms basically clung around the pillar. catching your breath as you prepared yourself for a week of hiding, of intense planning around your crush–

“hey, you okay weirdo?”

the voice of said crush filled your ears, making you realize that it indeed can always get worse.

“no, i'm not okay.” she said, letting go of the pillar and shakily standing on two feet, feeling like a fawn standing for the first time.

his eyebrows raised like he didn't expect you to say that, his mouth hung open for a second, before he decided to just retort. “oh, sucks to be you then.”

“yes, yes it does.” you say of your own will, dragging a hand longly against your face.

face-to-face with him, the guy you'd randomly became close with over the years, the one that you'd harbored and now openly spoke of your crush on, and the one who you shared an affinity for romance manga with.

“are ya ever g’nna get up properly? or you just gonna stare like a dumbass?” he asked, which made you answer begrudgingly.

“everyone who falls has to get up, unless they're dead.

…

but uh– don't wait on me!”

“...right.” he shrugged, moving back towards the door to walk inside. acting off after a mission wasn't anything crazy after all, they all had weird days. at least that's how he rationalized it.

“oh, and i borrowed some shit from your room. i'll give it you tomorrow.”

“be gentle!”

“whatever.” he closed the door after him, leaving your with your thoughts alone. after the sun had fully left you alone, you decided to bite the bullet and just go inside. taking a deep breath, you walked in, trying your best to just make it to your room.

mina came up to you, a pint of ice cream in her hand. “[name]! you're back! how was it?”

“bad.” you answered, wordlessly asking for a bit of her ice cream.

she gave it to you, before joining you as you walked up the stairs. “wanna talk about it?”

“not really, but it'll be forced out of me.”

“what??”

you sighed, explaining what happened to you in between bites of your ice cream. “truth quirk. talk too much. can't shut up.”

mina made an ‘o’ shape with her lips, pondering it over mentally. “but it's not like you're a crazy liar, what's the big problem?”

“my crush on katsuki. i'm so scared that i'm gonna accidentally be forced to confess because of this.” you admitted.

mina, thankfully didn't overreact. for a second. until she smiled gleefully and shoved you into your room. “wait here, i got something for you.”

she left you with the pint of ice cream, your favorite flavor, which kept you good company until she came back with the girls of the class.

“i hope you don't mind.. well it's too bad if you do, because i told them all already. whoops!” she said, leading them all in and shutting the door.

“so, you're finally confessing?” momo asked, making you almost choke.

“no! this is against my will! i'd never confess in my life! the embarrassment of getting rejected is something i couldn't recover from.”

“really? i mean- i think it's pretty obvious the two of you have something special. ribbit.” tsuyu added, looking up at the ceiling of your dorm thoughtfully. “well, its not like you have a choice now. might as well just do it.” jirou shrugged.

“if you're here to make fun of me you can just leave!” you whined into your hands. “im already making myself miserable just fine!”

the girls exchanged glances, before they sighed. uraraka started, “[name] we were here to try and encourage you to do it out of your own will, but if you really don't want to.. we can help.”

“help? like how?”

mina jumped, “by making sure you don't accidentally confess of course!”

“but it won't be easy.” yaoyorozu chimed in, “we'll have to plan this out well, it's a week isn't it?”

“a week from today.. that's saturday.”

“okay guys, let's do this for [name]!” mina cheered, placing her hand in the middle of the group. the other girls all moved to place their hands on top of hers, and waited for you to finish it off.

“come on!” uraraka encouraged, making you sigh and place your hand on the top.

as you raised your hand on the count of three, hearing their cheers and hopes in encouragement for you and for their plan, you felt a bit of hope that it just might turn out alright.

they shuffled out afterwards, patting you on the back and making tiny promises as they moved out. with a final wink from mina and a whispered, “good night [name], i promise everything will work out!” they were gone.

as you laid in your bed, staring at the ceiling that never changed no matter what did in your life, you allowed yourself to rest.

7 days to go.

when will this end? you thought, all the optimism from yesterday ripped from you.

insomnia arose from the anxiety that implanted a pit of dread in your stomach, it didn't let you sleep, no matter how sleepy you had gotten.

horrible scenarios played one after one, like a record player made of your nightmares. what if he rejected you in front of your school? no, what if he has a secret girlfriend and you look like a total homewrecker for confessing?

or even worse, what if he doesn't like women at all and you missed all the signs?

you squealed into a pillow, trying to escape your sorrows as you realized,

you were probably just hungry for some actual food. when was the last time you ate properly? who knows.

you slipped on house slippers and made your way down the stairs to the kitchen. you prepared a pot of chai, greeting iida and other early risers who were up out of instinct, since it's a sunday.

yawning, you scroll mindlessly on your phone while you wait for your tea to finish. a familiar voice takes you out of your bubble.

“yo.” is all he says, sliding by you by causally placing a hand on your waist, letting go only a second later.

“uh.. hey. want some tea?” you managed, ignoring the spiraling of your soul as you were met by the close proximity of his face. “yeah, sounds cool.”

you pour him a glass, letting him put the sugar in by himself as you fix one for yourself too. he looks to see if anyone was in earshot of the two of you, before whispering into your ear.

“did you see when usui jumped off the building for misa?”

“yes. its one of my favorite scenes!” you answer before you realize it, but you're slowly starting to get used to the feeling of it. “i mean, he's so cool for that.”

“yeah, but his legs would be fucked. or he'd be paralyzed for life after that fall. would've been an easy choice to make him break a leg and have ‘er take care of him.”

“but isn't that so predictable? it's better to take a unique route-”

“no spoilers.”

“it's not really a spoiler though! man, i really loved that scene. i think it's my favorite.”

“why?” he asked, an odd tonal shift in his voice.”

“i like usui.”

“no, like. do you imagine someone doing that to you?” he was close, way to close. your mouth was opening, your answer was so clear to you, it was about to be ruined, until–

“oh [name]! may i have some of your tea please?” yaoyarozu saved the day. you thanked her mentally, getting her a glass and smiling at her small wink. she hung close by, you didn't notice before, but she was within earshot.

“anyways, what were we talking about katsuki?”

“..'s nothing. see ya.”

he left her there, knees weak in worry or affection? both probably. she mouthed a thank you to momo, before going back up to her dorm to get ready for the day.

sunday, not much to do thankfully. you decided to hang out in your room for a while, drawing and relaxing, managing to catch up on a couple hours of sleep as you tried to avoid katsuki as much as possible.

though, even in this brief moment where you were attempting to avoid him, you couldn't help but notice that he tended to come to you first.

greetings and conversations started by him, fleeting touches initiated by him, small nods in the hallways of the dorms given by him, and even-

a text message left by him, asking if he could come to your dorm for just a moment. for the books.

you wondered now if he was solely coming for that reason.. could there be an off chance he was coming for you?

..no. no way, you thought. you brushed it off, and opted to make it seem like the girls were already in your room, just so you wouldn't be alone with him. can't take chances anymore.

you texted the girls the news, and the ones who weren't at the mall or busy came to see you, leaving uraraka, tsuyu, and hagakure.

you welcomed them in, “thanks for coming guys. we can actually paint each others nails since we're already here?”

they all nodded with excitement, you pulled out the limited colors you had, though they were all your favorites. they began to paint each other’s nails, while you finally texted him back. telling him to come, but that the others were here too. he only reacted with a thumbs up.

“what did he say?” tsuyu asked.

“oh, he just responded with a thumbs up.” like you summoned him, a knock was heard at the door. you went to open it, making the girls laugh quietly behind their hands. greeting you was the sight of katsuki in his usual baggy attire holding two bags of books from what you could see. you stepped outside of your room, the door behind you. “hi katsuki.”

“hey– uh, [name].” he greeted. he held up a bag and handed it to you. “thanks for um.. lending it to me.” a hand naturally went towards the back of his head, rubbing it as he averted his eyes away from you.

he waited for you to set the bag down inside the room, before holding out the second one to you.

“what's this?” you asked, accepting it as you looked into red eyes.

“well– it's some of my collection. you haven't read it before, it's so we could talk about it. or something.”

a soft smile overcame you. “i think i'd like that.”

hagakure made a casual remark, they'd been eavesdropping from behind the door, muffled remarks not quite coherent enough to be a worry. but one question had managed to reach your and his ears.

“they're so cute together! aren't they literally dating?”

his face tinged pink, but you knew you'd say your thoughts.

“i wish.”

his face looked incredulous, as if he couldn't believe you just said that. “wait- what did you just–”

but before he could finish the question that would seal your fate, the door was opened quickly behind you, uraraka placing a hand over your mouth before smiling nervously. “um, she's not in her right mind today bakugo! don't mind her.”

his eyebrow raised. “really? why?”

“because.. it's that time of the month?” she managed, making him reel back and look apologetic. “oh. ill be.. going now then. bye.” you two waved him goodbye.

he left quickly, leaving his books next to the door as he speed walked away.

you were conflicted, not knowing whether to glare at or thank uraraka, but you closed the door behind you anyways.

“are you guys serious?”

“sorry!” hagakure pleaded. “i didn't think you two could hear me, the door wasn't closed all the way!”

“i mean, we were kind of close-”

“guys! all that matters is that i fixed it!”

“what do you mean fixed it?” you cut in. “you told him im out of my mind right now.”

“it'll be okay, he likes you too much to hold it against you.” she waved it off with a smile, and held your shoulders gently. “what you really should

he worried about is school. missions come at the end of the week, but how are you gonna deal with monday through wednesday?”

“i feel like you're changing the subject. and i'm going to avoid him. easy as pie.”

they all glanced at eachother, then back at you. “sure [name]. whatever you say.”

they all bid their goodbyes soon after, hagakure still apologizing profusely as the other two patted themselves on the back for speedy thinking.

the door shut and once again you were left to plan, only this time you managed a good night's sleep.

your life wasn't completely over, at least.

you dreaded the next three days. thursday and friday were safe for you, the only person you'd have to deal with being mirko since agencies tended to schedule students at the end of the week.

you woke up and prepared yourself. it was alright eight, so you'd only have an hour before heading to school.

you'd showered and changed, fixed your hair and fixed your bag.

unfortunately, katsuki is a really good guy.

a good friend, caring too. thats why you were startled by the sight of him at your door. you didn't have time to prepare, no time to call your backup or report, because he caught you right as many of the girls just woke up.

you were still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you looked up at him, “katsuki?”

he held a bag in his hand, something that was oddly reoccurring lately. “hey, about your 'time of the month’ shit.” he placed the bag safely in your arms, and averted his eyes from you once again.

“i brought you some stuff i thought might help, since we got class today.”

“really? you shouldn't have.” you peeked in the top, seeing a stuffed animal, chocolates, a heating pad, and some ice packs.

he sighed, almost dreamily. “i wanted to. i hope you stop feeling so fucked.” a beat passes, his eyebrows scrunched as if he wants to say something more, but he chooses not to.

“see ya.” with that, he left you alone with a warm feeling spreading throughout your chest. the pink bag gripped tightly in your hands and set gently onto your desk.

the warm feeling was soon gone, replaced with a feeling of guilt. guilt for basically ignoring him.

you slumped onto your desk in the middle of the class, scribbling down notes like there was no tomorrow, taking sips of a drink you enjoyed while ignoring the growing ache in your wrist.

mr. aizawa was just going over the basics of hero courtesy again, a refresher for your on hand experience at the end of the week. you really didn't need to take notes, but you found it got your mind off the red eyes you felt looking at the back of your head.

you were almost tempted to look back, almost. but with a determination that rivaled even midoriya’s, you just kept going.

finally, the lunch bell rang. you got up and stretched, everyone got their bearings and followed suit. they all piled out, leaving you as the last one there, though you couldn't help but notice a lingering gaze stare at you, before he finally followed suit and left the classroom.

you stood there, trying to figure out what you should do for lunch, when a ‘ahem’ brought you out of your thoughts.

“[name]. i appreciate your hard work in class and all, but id like to nap this period.” mr aizawa said gruffly.

“oh! sorry! i was just leaving.” you grabbed your lunchbox and ran out the room.

now came the issue of figuring out where to sit.

it was no secret to anyone that you and katsuki would usually spend the entire lunch period on the roof together most days, you'd even go up there by yourself on days he wasn't here.

so to be in the cafeteria again was a bit unnerving for you, but you took a spot besides jirou and got out the lunch you made.

she seemed surprised to see you, but then remembered why you were here. “it's cool to see you down here [name]. you're only ever up on the rooftop making out with your boyfriend.”

“we don't even make out. and he's not my boyfriend!”

“sure. that's why he's staring over here right now. and he stares at you in class too, does he ever get tired?”

“i don't know, why are you asking me like i know him in and out?”

“okay, let's just calm down you two.” momo cut in. “[name], happy to see you.”

you nodded, “yeah? i'm happy to see you too.”

you tried your best to ignore katsuki’s eyes boring into your soul, but you accidentally glanced over at him, quickly averting your eyes away.

you finished your lunch quickly, moving to be in between jirou and momo much to their dismay. you really just wanted this day to be over.

going back to class you rested your head against the table, only participating when you actively had to. you just felt so guilty about ignore him, especially after what he did for you this morning.

you realized just how much of your day you spent with him, because when it came time to walk back to the dorm, you felt alone for the first time in months even.

he'd always been by your side, maybe even offering to go out for a small treat with you, you felt the lack of his presence like a withdrawal.

you did everything you could just to avoid him in the halls, basically even running away at one point. everyone knew now of how weird you had been acting, but it wasn't really your fault, you had a master plan to enact!

the next day was just like the last, keeping your head down and turned completely away from katsuki, turning the opposite direction when you'd so much as see his hair, partnering with someone else just so you wouldn't get stuck with him.

going home to eat dinner in your room, ignoring his texts altogether. he even called you at one point.

you shoved a pillow over your head, though it didn't serve to silence the voices screaming at you that it wasn't fair what you were doing to him, that you should man up and just confess already.

but what you didn't expect was for him to take it into his own hands.

wednesday started easily enough, same way as the last two. silly for you to think you could go 3/3, no problems encountered.

you were walking in the halls, choosing the lower floors you knew he wouldn't be in, trotting down to the cafeteria to third wheel momo and jirou.

you were almost there, when you were suddenly pulled into a vacant classroom by the hand. a hand that you'd felt many times against yours, but never with so much intent behind it.

there stood katsuki in front of you, eyes low and waiting as he looked you over.

“[name].” he started, still holding on to your hand. “we need to talk.”

“talk. about what exactly?”

“you know what. you've been ignoring me.” he let go of your hand, crossing them into his chest as he looked you over. “did.. i do something wrong?”

“what? no! it's me!”

“you?”

“yes, it's me. not you. well i mean it is you, but not like that!”

“it's my fault?”

“yes– wait no. yes and no? listen-”

“so, you're ignoring me?” he stepped closer to you, eye contact fierce as you could see the mixed emotions in his eyes. betrayal, even.. insecurity.

“yes. well, i mean i don't– you don't understand!” you tried to reason, but he scoffed.

“save it. i know when im not wanted.”

“katsuki! no-” you grabbed his hand before you even realized it, pulling him closer to you.

“i..” your brain was screaming at you to just admit it now before you would do so accidentally, but..

you couldn't.

“i can't tell you why right now, but it's not what you think.”

his eyes rolled, he took his hand out of yours forcibly. “i don't think i even want to hear that shit. shove it.”

with his hands now shoved in his pocket, he left you alone in that classroom. you walked to the table with wide eyes, never thinking you'd ever miss the feeling of being watched, but admittedly you grew used to it.

you acted that way out of fear of rejection, but did you just get rejected anyways? you hit your head against the lunch table in frustration.

“i'm an idiot.” you muttered, muffled by the material of the tables below. momo patted you on the back.

“i mean, i called it.” jirou said, taking a bite out of her food. “no way this was ever gonna work out.”

“it really wasn't the best idea [name]..” momo finally agreed, still soothing your back. “i mean, there was better ways of going about this. you just ended up pushing him away.”

“i know that now. ugh!”

“it's not too late, there's only what? three days left? you can make it up to him on saturday.”

“it's too late, i'm ruined.”

“right..”

you don't remember the rest of the conversation. you didn't remember even walking up to class, or walking out of it to your dorm. you were in a state of mourning, dreading ever seeing him again. at least for the next two days you wouldn't.

that was the only thought that could let you sleep peacefully, but it made you wake up early regardless.

sulking as you got ready in your hero outfit, walking slowly to the train station with a bag you packed the week prior. mirko texted you the location in tokyo where you'd meet up this week, standing on one of the sides of the train station that seemed pretty busy today.

as the train came to a stop in front of you, you noticed that when the door opened, a familiar face was on the other side.

katsuki.

your eyes widened and looked away from his as you shuffled in, all the seats were full to you hanged onto the bar.

you didn't look at him, though you were jealous at the fact that he got a seat and you didn't. you sulked internally, feeling your knees buckle at not only your exhaustion, but the proximity to him.

there was only a small space next to him now, the kid who'd been next to him getting off at this stop. you eyed it, and he noticed, sighing and gently pulling you towards him.

you were shoved against him, though he said nothing to you.

“kat–”

“it's nothing. don't think about it.”

he barely spared you a glance, though you felt you deserved it now. you sighed, instinctually leaning a head on his shoulder and dozing off. he didn't move you off of him.

you felt him lay his head on yours, the music from his outdated wired headphones leaking into your ear as you took a nap.

the time felt like nothing as you laid there, feeling like only a split second when you felt katsuki shaking you. “yo, [name]. wake up.” he called to you. your eyes fluttered open, squinting at the fluorescent bright lights of the train.

“hm?” you mumbled, moving off of him to get up.

“we're at our station. or mine at least.” he slung his bag around his shoulder.

“oh, this is mine too. coincidence.”

“yeah.”

at the news he grabbed your bag and held it. he waited for you to stretch you legs and neck, before walking beside you. “so, where are ya going?”

“to mirko.”

“duh, i know that. but what is she doing in tokyo of all places?”

“oh, she just tells me places to go and i get there day of. she can't tell me anything, i think it's confidential?”

“mhm. well i'll walk you to your shit, i'm a future number one hero, not an asshole.

“well..”

“then walk by yourself.” he threw your bag at you, walking faster and leaving you a bit behind.

“no, wait!”

you chased after him, and kept by his side. no matter which direction you turned, it was the same way he was going. until you finally just look at the address, and sure enough..

mirko decided to work at best jeanist’s agency.

you felt a mix of emotions wash over you. annoyance, dread, anger.

“what's up?”

“mirko chose to work with best jeanist.”

“what?”

“i know.”

“she only did it to piss me off. ugh!” she kicked a can in the alleyway. they were in eyeshot of the huge agency.

“really, why would she even do that?”

“because of you.” a hand slapped over your mouth.

“me? really?” you could hear the smirk on his face, he waltzed over to you. you were nearing the entrance now, only a staircase keeping you alone with him. you could even see the familiar white ears of your now enemy.

“what?

do you have a crush on me or something?” it was just a joke, you could hear it in his cocky demeanor.

but that didn't stop the hands that shot off your face involuntarily, as you let out a meek. “yes.”

the smile was wiped off of his face now, shock filling his expression. you ran into the doors, standing beside a mirko who greeted you warmly. a hand reaching out to grab you was now left in the air.

it felt like the air had left his lungs too.

because it turns out his feelings were reciprocal after all.

the meeting would start in a small moment, that's what the receptionist told you as you stood next to mirko, who you pulled aside to talk to.

placing your hands on either side of her shoulders, you let her have it.

“mirko, why would you choose to work here of all places?”

“i wanted to play wingman for my favorite partner. sue me.”

“but– this is making everything worse! why couldn't you have just done this in a week! or better yet- never!” you cried, stomping a foot on the floor. “

i didn't want or need any help- any now i'll have to spend tomorrow on some awkward random patrol!”

“it won't be so awkward, remember that me and that best jeanist guy will be there too.”

“like, third-wheeling? thanks a lot. that really helps me feel better.”

“think nothing of it. anyways, this is for the better. i caught wind of you and the girls’ plan. it really sucked. maybe my plan will end up working. you never know.”

“so? and what if it doesn't?”

“then what? you already got rejected didn't you?”

“yes.” a beat passed, your glare only getting stronger. “you're so annoying.”

“you love me though, anyways it's time.” she grabs your hand and guides you to the meeting room. you're sat right next to katsuki, though you do your best not to look at him. it's awkward enough just thinking about how you'd even salvage the relationship you had before, so you try not to.

you realize way too late that you'd managed to zone out through the entire mission. the map displayed virtually might as well had been in another language, the suspects and victims melting into each other, the objectives not clear.

the only notable thing to you was a random, large red circle over a part of the city. but besides that you had no idea what was going on, and based on the look on mirko’s face, listening along was vital.

you brushed it off. not thinking that it was that important, and your instincts hadn't failed you that horrifically yet.

you exited the room besides mirko, who had gotten the two of you a hotel for the two nights you were staying here. a penthouse suite awaited you. you would've been more thankful, if not for her betrayal of you earlier.

the night was swift, faster than you wanted it to be. you found yourself already in your hero outfit at the crack of dawn, trudging alongside mirko.

one word described the streets. busy, full of life. something you weren't really used to.

stealth missions and random outposts were where you were usually sent, nobody seen for ages. so maybe you should have spent a bit more time paying attention to the mission debrief..

“is it always like this?” you questioned to bakugo, who stood right next to you.

“what do you mean?”

“like. busy.”

“oh, yeah it is. always pretty boring though. no smart villain would make an attack with so many people around. at least one hero would be stationed over here.”

“guess you're right.”

“i know i am.”

and he was proven right. the side of town you two were stationed to, seperate from mirko and jeanist, was completely fine.

the only thing you two had done the whole day was save a cat out of a tree, handing it to a little girl who looked up at you with stars in her eyes as you did.

it was afternoon now, and your shift was officially over. you slumped against a wall dramatically, slipping down onto the floor as you breathed a sigh of relief.

katsuki sat next to you, a close proximity between you two not foreign usually, though with the weird back and forth that had been going on thus far, it was nice to know he still considered you to be close.

“‘m fucking hungry.” he finally said, making you laugh. “that's what you're thinking of right now?”

“no. not really.”

“well, then what is it?”

“it's you, [name].”

he takes a breath. “let me talk, okay.” he moved to face you, and at your nod, he continued.

“you confuse me. for years we've gotten close, comfortable. but all of a sudden you avoided me like the plague. i hated it.” his face changes with a mixture of emotions.

“i.. i really fucking like you. and i'm confused as if you feel the same way, you seemed pissed to even be with me right now so. it's just odd. you're acting odd.

because sometimes you're like fucking into me. you even brought me lunch at some point. and now with the ignoring me bullshit? i just don't get it.” he dropped his shoulders, eyes widening slightly.

“so do you like me or not? or should i just leave you the fuck alone?”

“yes and no.”

his face scrunched up in confusion. “so-”

“ugh! just shut up! i like you- okay? is that what you wanted to hear?”

“yes, actually.” he breathed a sigh of relief, a joking hand laid over his chest. “you're confusing.”

“i know.”

“you're close.”

“i mean you sat here-”

“can i kiss you?”

a crack of sunlight dawned through the small corridor, illuminating his eyes, and to him your body. you knew what you'd say for yourself, but you didn't mind this time.

because it's what you truly wanted.

“i thought you'd never ask.”

you felt his lips on yours in an instant, his arms wrapping around your lower back and caging you into him, the buzzing of your phone going unnoticed as he tilted his head against yours.

breathless. the only real word you could use to describe how you felt right now, after having pulled away.

you didn't have a chance to wipe your lip gloss off his face, not before mirko and jeanist stood behind you two, her hands on her hips as a smirk came over her face.

“i see someone was having fun.”

oh right. the mission..

“not like it matters anymore, but we caught the villains. i texted you about it, but when you didn't respond jeanist over here told us to come

quickly.”

she gestured over to a face-palming jeanist, who only said, “it seems you two had more pressing matters to deal with.” katsuki wiped the lip gloss off his lips, wincing at the sticky feeling left on his face.

mirko snorted, while you hung your head in embarrassment, and katsuki looked away from the two of them.

“you know what? stay out as long as you two lovebirds would like. i'll cover for the two of you.”

“what? really?”

she winked at you, and mouthed “wingman”, before turning to leave. “if you're really questioning me, i'll just not let you g-”

katsuki cut her off. “it's cool. thanks, see you losers.” he grabbed your hand, pulling you effortlessly off the ground, a bit into his chest as he led you to start walking off.

“'got somewhere cool to show ya’.” is all he said, before taking you to a restaurant he frequented, or so he told you. he ordered the spiciest plate, and you chose one to your preference. you got a dessert, he skipped out though because of his disdain for them.

“katsuki, i really should tell you something.”

“go ahead.”

it was your turn now to breath, looking up at the ceiling and shutting your eyes as you blurted out, “i was hit by a truth quirk, i avoided you because i was scared to confess to you, and now i feel guilty.”

no sound was heard other than the clacking of utensils and movement in the background, you opened your eyes to see a bakugo who looked as if he was holding in his laugh.

“seriously? that was it?” you could hear the smile in his voice, his hand moved to cover his mouth. “no- i mean that's super crazy [name], very justified response.”

“you're rude.”

“no, no i'm being real.” he could barely hide the casual giggle being let out, “like, it's crazy how hard that must've been. no immediate solutions at all.”

“well, i'm emotionally invested so obviously it was harder for me to think!”

“why didn't you just tell mr. aizawa, he could've canceled it out for you in class.”

“.. i didn't think of that.”

he couldn't help it anymore, he burst out laughing, having to cover his hand with his mouth to keep from cackling.

meanwhile, you crossed your arms and looked straight-faced. “this isn't funny at all by the way.”

he finally calmed down enough, grabbing your hand from across the table and still smirking slightly.

“sorry, sorry. fucking sore ass subject, i got it. let's get out of here already.”

“right, you ruined the atmosphere.”

“sure i did.”

he paid, and for your last stop of the day, he got you ice cream at a park. you just wanted to sit down, legs tired from the amount of walking you did today.

licking at your favorite flavor, he holds up his ice cream to your mouth to try. it was a sour, savory flavor. but you ended up liking it.

the moon was out now, greeting the two of you as you sat side-by-side, illuminating your bodies with the reflected rays of the sun.

it felt late you realized, and you looked down at your phone’s time, sighing in happiness.

it was 12:00, you were free.

“hey katsuki, ask me something.”

“uh.. did you enjoy our day today?”

“no.” a face of annoyance grew on his face, while one of excitement adorned yours. “see? it's over!”

“you can say that.”

“no dumbass! i lied, i really did enjoy today! the quirk is over.” you leaned back raising your hands in glee. “i'm free!”

he laughed, leaning back with you and looking at the constellation’s in the sky.

“well, since you're free now, i'll ask you one final question.”

“hm?” you turned to look at him, his hand rose to grab yours in his. his fingers ran over your knuckles.

“can i be your boyfriend?”

you paused, before a smile erupted over your face once again.

“you could've asked me earlier, and my answer would still be the same,”

so, obviously yes.”

he grinned, pulling you into him.

you sealed your answer with a kiss. soft, endearing, long, and truthful. his hands were tangled in your hair, your hands around the upper part of his back.

as you pulled away, you could only hope this would last forever, that the feeling of honesty and security would be forever eternal as you laid against his chest, pointing out things you'd saw in the stars.

but looking at him once more, you knew it'd be alright.

it was the truth written in the stars, after all.

end.

tags: @k0z3me @darhinadadragon @maddietries @exoticrasin @lavendarstarz @hisonlyobsession @i-the-fluffo @cookielovesbook-akie @frosted-flakes @irenne-stans @lulumi1u @bakunis

[dough09]

Spoiled

Y/N and her period.

(chapter: Sae Itoshi) //If you want more chapters//

All day he didn’t receive a moment of peace. All you did was whine. Every single second he saw you going by your day.

Technically he expected this would happen. You were on your period. This was your month. He knew it'd be coming because lately you’ve been getting more and more agitated at everything he did.

He forgot his socks on the bed and you glared at him for half a day. Just because of a pair of socks.

You also craved more snacks lately. He noticed these things and always knew it better than the palm of his hands. Sometimes you’d ask him when did the last one end and he’d without thinking just answer. Like it’s nothing.

The man knew you better than you did yourself at this point.

He loved paying attention to the little things. But really you never understood how he knew your cycles better than you yourself of that stupid app on your phone.

You always required more attention on your month and that wasn't different now either. Your head was in his lap as he kept stroking your soft and freshly washed hair.

His jersey hid your form as the size simply was for you. Regardless he’d always request two more. One to have a spare one and the other just for you. His girlfriend.

“This is so boring they aren't even going anywhere! “ The anime that was supposed to be distracting enough failed. As the night was beginning to rise he decided to watch something so time would fly faster. Not that it ever worked for her.

Her cramps and whines engulfed the room making her curl into a small ball. “Oh come on, it can't hurt that bad” he sighed as you flinched and crumbled even more.

“Want me to get a period simulator for you?” “Nah, I'll be fine without one.” He said as he got up and walked to the kitchen. You frowned. “Where are you going?” “I’ll be back.” He said from the end of the hallway.

To his absence you stopped the show and just layed down on the bed. You were squirming on the bed. At this point you were cramping just like on the day you started.

Not that you didn't feel it coming while being in his embrace. It's just that.. he calmed you. His touch was so warm and it made you fuzzy inside. So you could only focus on that.

Soon he came back with a period cramp heat pad. Your eyes widened. “How did you-” “How did I know? Your toes were curling and you were turning into my chest more mi amor.” He sighed and smirked. He gently placed the pad onto your stomach and sat down, pulling you into his arms.

His hand slipped under your shirt and his hands moved in small circles around the belly. “You’re spoiling me~” your grin made its way to your face and he only squinted his eyes at you. “You like it, and it's not like I can't!” He made a fair argument.

[suguru-getos]

| Bully!Satoru Gojo x F!reader | Part 2 |

-> Part 1

Summary: You had just transferred schools, and your first day was an encounter with your new bully. He’s mean, terrifically hot & absolutely a menace. Though there’s more to that personna. Chapter Summary: After humiliating Gojo in the cafeteria, he has better ways to force pay-back. Hey! That shirt you ruined, was expensive.

Warnings: Oh he is a real piece of shit here with a barely there moral compass. Mentions of humiliation, bul!ying, belittling, teasing. The reader is slowly getting into an auto-pilot mode.

New chapter every week, comment down below if you want to be tagged! ^^

Taglist: @mc-reborn @tvdumarvelhpsimp @alula394 @getoxmahito @knanamii @he4rts444mi @localginger22 @animeisforkings @ran6ia @creative1writings @lenaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @zoemaelol @shoutascoffeepot

It feels like pure humiliation, the way you walked off from the cafeteria. Satoru stood there, the warm, sticky gravy sticking to him. It feels like a sensory nightmare. White hot rage simmering through the very marrow of his bones. He exhales, glancing up just to see if there was anyone dumb enough to enjoy his misery he could stomp on. Nobody had the balls to, nobody has the balls to until you come across.

What was your fucking problem?

He walked away from the cafeteria, long strides eager to seek you out and punish you ruthlessly for your deranged and depraved, bratty behaviour. Satoru Gojo is worshipped like the literal god, who the hell are you? Meanwhile, you, amidst all your molten courage flowing in your veins, were the epitome of anxiety. You can't mistake his blazing steamy rage filled blue eyes greying… to be anything but merciful. You're not delusional.

A veiny, pale hand gripped your hair, the other wrapped around your mouth as you were dragged through the lonesome corridor. You whimpered at the burn in your scalp and before you could register what was happening, Satoru was standing in front of you. Baring his hostile teeth as he grits. "You've done it." He's almost amused, contemplating what more he can do to you, what more can you really handle… then again, does it matter if you can or can’t handle?

"Here's what's going to happen…" He pushed himself against your chest, unrelenting at how disgusting you might feel, transferring the filth on his shirt to yours. You struggled like a fish out of water. Satoru is taller, bulkier, stronger and you realize that soon enough.

"You will be my silly little pet, because guess how much this shirt costs?" He chuckled, whispering gravely against the shell of your ear. "1800 dollars, missy."

You feel shocked upon hearing the price, eyes widening as he slowly leaned his hand away so you could speak.

"Either you fucking pay me back, with interest for each day. Or you shut the fuck up and be my silly little pet for a month I will stomp on, my little useless errand girl. Sounds fitting to someone who looks like you, no?" He smirks, watching the colour fade in your eyes. He is sort of impressed by himself, the way he instantaneously thought of such a brilliant idea. That money means nothing to him, but not everyone is that blessed.

Once you finally gathered what was happening, you raised a brow. "Why should I be an errand girl to someone who collided against me and is now begging to be paid for his filthy shirt? Learn to walk properly asshole!" You spit back, eyes siren and jaw gritted.

"Kay then, I will ask your mommy and daddy to pay for their daughter's bullshit." He left your hair, the pain subsiding into a dull ache.

He wasn't fucking serious was he? You and your parents weren't essentially on the best terms, they have just shifted to Tokyo and while they would be willing to pay, your self-respect wouldn't allow you. Your mother would keep taunting you about this for the rest of your life… you really don't want that.

Satoru noticed the shift in your behaviour when he mentioned your parents - "Heh, guess they don't like you either huh?" He smirked, not caring how hard it would jab you. It kinda did.. but you couldn't care less. Not coming from him especially.

"10 days, of me being your errand girl." You wanted to be ploughed down into death once you uttered these words. There was nothing you could do anyways. Parents involving, not so much…

"A month." Satoru shrugged, smirking. He has you exactly where he wants. His sole goal is to make you cry every single day and make sure you apologize for being a little shit to him.

"And, you do whatever the fuck I say you to. If I tell you to clean my shoe with your tongue, you 'fucking' clean my shoe with your tongue."

Oh it felt like dying, like you were stabbed endlessly by a thousand swords when he said that.

"How do I know after a month you wouldn't bother me or my parents with the money?" Satoru raised a brow, smirking. "I'm a man of my word, little bitch." He squeezed your face in a single hand, watching your puckered lips. "I say you're free after a month, then you're free after a month, though you'll wish every single day that you paid me back." He chuckled, rolling his eyes as he let go of your face with a jerk, letting the back of your head collide a little with the wall.

You were so cute, small, stompable…

"See me when the school ends."

Satoru walked away with that, and your shoulders slumped. This is what it has truly come to? You needed some time to yourself after this, why are you always so pushy and so cocky? What if you didn't humiliate him… a month of sheer torture is what you've signed up for, just to not be tortured by your mother. Besides, it's a lot of money and you don't think your parents owe you because a shitty ass senior got pissed.

You dragged your feet to him, after the school ended. His whole group was present, they were busy chitchatting. Satoru perked up like a spoiled brat the moment his eyes glazed through you beneath the glasses. "My little lap bitch is hereeee~" He perked, walking towards you and smirking at how you grimace when you see the way he was treating you.

"Go, fetch us popsickles." He grinned, giving you the money. You didn't say anything, trying oh so hard not to slap him across the face and breathing out. "Mkay."

You looked up, counting the number of people, "Excluding yourself, no popsickles for you." He simply shrugged.

Oh he was getting beneath your nerves so bad. "I wouldn't buy them for myself." You explained anyway, "Don't wan' em." With that, you walked away, getting to the vending machine and getting those fucking popsickles which you rather wish were poisoned so he dies for good.

When you're back, he made sure you give them to everyone, made sure you give it to him- after opening the packet- and then dropped it.

"Whoops, gotta run again lil girl." He chuckled, his friends were… stunned too. Satoru is a cunt, they all know that. He pushes people through their limits but he's never been this much of an asshole towards any girl. Maybe because none of them did anything except slither around him and worship him.

You tear up, you have never… felt this humiliated in your life ever. Nanami gives his popsickle to Satoru, "Here, Gojo san. I don't want it. Please take it." He is so polite, kind… but his Senpai had other plans.

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" He raises his voice a little, and you are left with nothing but a reminder of him demanding this money from your parents. Your feet are stoned to the ground though, unmoving. "Okay." You managed to say again, taking a deep breath as you force yourself to the vending machine yet again, bringing back his popsickle.

You thought highschool would be fun, you would make new friends, go to karaoke parties, excel in subjects, in extra curriculars, whatnot.. you never expected yourself landing into the clutches of rich asshole Gojo Satoru.

Once you're back, you unwrap it again and give it to him. For fuck's sake he finally accepted.

"Kay, gimme your number." He extends his hand with his phone on it, letting you reluctantly add your number and saving it as 'Servant'. Showing it to you to rub salt on your wounds. "Off you go, see you tomorrow." He smiled. You were relieved you don't need to see his face for the rest of the day.

Once you reached home, you cried. All the emotions overwhelming you all at once. Guess he was right, he will make you cry everyday..

The rest of the day passes by in a haze before you find yourself back in school again.

"OH good morning little errand girl!" Satoru's presence looms, he was waiting for you at the entrance, you looked up at him. Not responding for now. You needed to get to class. OH so you're being indifferent now? Satoru is pissed…

"So eager to go to class, I have a job for you though!" He snickers, watching your stompy feet come to a pause. Good, you were still listening. He will push you a little more. "During the lunch time, go and bring my lunch for me, kay? You won't eat unless I finish." He smirked, walking away.

The problem is… it's not fun anymore. At least… not how it was when you retaliated. Maybe he shouldn't have used the money thing and just teased you when you had the means to push it back. You just nodded and left.

During the lunch time, you did as directed. Bringing his plate to him in front of everyone… oh it satiated his silly little ego so much.

Though he wonders if you will snap… finally. If not, he can just push it. No? He extends his hand to Haibara who reluctantly gave his water bottle to Satoru.

Before you could process what happened, you were drenched. The white shirt now translucent, showing your bra. Everyone laughed, some of them were gawking at how the shirt does no justice to you, now that it sticks to your skin, you look much more delectable. "Oops, my hand slipped." He says again, though he knows he's pushed this one too hard. Today was only the second day. Besides, a vile feeling erupted beneath him when he felt others gawk at you. Look away. Look. THE FUCK. AWAY.

Rolling his eyes, he puts his blazer on you, "Here, go get changed.." He mumbled, your silence was not helping. Not fucking helping when you shivered at the coldness of your body, how you just… took it. You didn't even cry, this was to be expected from him anyways.

You nodded, walking towards the infirmary alone. "For fuck's sake…" Satoru snarled, whatever left of his inner conscience slapping him hard as he followed you to it. Making sure you change your clothes and gave you a juice.

You were silent again, taking it from him. "Got nothing to say?" He raises a brow, "I thought you were all big and mean…" He emphasized again.

"Nothing to say. I expected worse." You shrugged, walking away. You expected 'worse'? What kind of worse…

"What the fuck do you mean?" He holds your wrist, "You know, like beating me the fuck up or something." You looked at his eyes. Wow… you truly think of him as vile and disgusting don't you? Why does it pinch him so hard? He's done nothing but bother you and made you believe he is trash.

"Kay." He mumbles, walking away. He's the one bullying you and he's the one being bullied at the same time.

Satoru Gojo doesn't bother you for the rest of the week and the weekend after.

Monday… he asks you to hold his bag for him all the way to his home. Watches you cutely manage both yours and his bag when he could easily hold your bag and you…

You're panting softly when you reach the Gojo estate, cutting the call from your mother and texting her you'll be late. "Here's your bag." You gave it to him and he took it from you easy peasy. "Alright, well.." He can see the sweat beads on your forehead, the way you are twisting your shoulder for relief. Suguru has already stopped talking to him because of this behaviour. You look cute, even when you piss him off so bad.

"Go run home." Satoru scoffs and leaves. Maybe he should just shorten the duration from a month to 15 days… but then, would you become the rebel he liked you to be or would you just ignore him…. contemplation, contemplation… and lots of contemplation.

[fruittt-punchhh]

Pop My Cherry!

all parts

Synopsis: your dad's best friend is none other than Toji Fushiguro, and you can't help but wonder what he could do with his hands.

Characters: Toji Fushiguro x reader.

Content: Minors Do Not Interact! smut, afab! reader, fem! reader, dad's best friend! Toji, suggestiveness, cursing, inexperienced (ish) reader, reader is a virgin but has done things ya know, female masturbation, male masturbation, mutual masturbation, getting caught in the act, reader smokes weed, alcohol usage, pet/ affectionate names, age gap (reader is 24, Toji is in his 30s), Toji calls reader (doll, slut, bitch, etc.), big dick! Toji.

Word Count: 3.6k-ish

Notes: hi again cuties!! I hope you’re enjoying it so far, I am loving it tbh! please enjoy the filthy smut in this chapter❤️‍🔥🗣️🫶. Lemme know what ya think! pt. 4 may take a minute but trust I gotchu covered. enjoy!!

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you stilled your movements, hoping he didn’t notice what you were doing. You quickly close out of the app and pull the blanket up to cover whatever shred of dignity you had left.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” You blurt out. You attempt a laugh to play it off, but it comes out as a nervous sounding chuckle if anything. Your dad and the rest of the boys were supposed to be out all day, you thought. Your phone said it was only 4:30, yet here Toji stood in your room with a look on his face that you’ll never forget.

His expression was dark and his pupils were blown. You would have thought he had taken some sort of drug, had you not seen his gaze go directly towards your tits.

“I should be askin’ you the same thing, sweet girl. I’ve got work in a few hours so I had to come back early.” He says with a smirk. He takes a step into your room and shuts the door behind him. The package was discarded on your dresser. He traipses towards you, never taking his eyes off of you. “But imagine my surprise when I come down the hallway to hear you saying ‘mm, y-yeah, just like that Mr. Fushiguro’. Then better yet, I open the door to see your poor attempt at pleasing yourself. I mean can you even call it masturbating at that point?” Toji is now sitting on the edge of your bed, with his arm supporting his weight behind him. His muscles are nearly ripping the sleeves of his shirt as he balls up the blanket in his fist.

“W-What are you talking about? I was ju-“, you feign innocence hoping that god will hear your lies and smite you to save you from the embarrassment that is this moment.

“Cut the shit, doll. You think I have to see what you’re doing to know what you’re doing? It’s painted all over that pretty face of yours. You look like you’ve been going at it for hours. Your lips are all swollen and your face is red. Let’s be fucking real, sweetheart” he inches closer to you, knowing you have no where to hide. He’s now sitting back on his legs, awaiting your response with hungry eyes.

“I-okay, fine. I was… touching myself or whatever. But I wasn’t ‘going at it for hours’! I’ve been really stressed with school, and I thought I had the house to myself today. Plus I smoked and that always makes it feel better so I figured I-“

“That’s enough. You don’t have to make up any more excuses. I know it was because of last night. Why would you be in here whining my name if it wasn’t, huh?”

There he goes again, making your face feel as if it’s on fire. If you could die in a hole and never be seen again, you would gladly take the chance with a smile on your face. There was no way you could get out of this one.

“Why are you so quiet all of a sudden? A few minutes ago I could hear you as soon as I walked through the front door. Did I embarrass you or something?”

Truth be told, he did, but given his cocky attitude, you knew you couldn’t let on. “pfft- I’m not embarrassed,” you bluff, “everybody does it. B-But nobody likes being caught in the act so to speak.”

He smiles almost ear to ear. Did you really think he was stupid? From your shaky voice to the blush rising up your face, he knew you were bullshitting. “I mean some people might like getting caught. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you wanted to. You could have at least locked the fucking door.”

Shit, he was right. I mean, to be fair, you knew no one was home. But locking the door would have taken two fucking seconds! Were you so pent up that you couldn’t take any extra precautions?

“I-I guess I thought no one would be home for a while. I’m really sorry Mr. Fushiguro, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Your headphones had been out for a bit at this point, so you aren’t mistaken when you hear Toji laugh at you. Like full-blown, hearty, laughter. He regains his composure, and he is suddenly much closer than you think you can handle. At this point, you can smell his musk from being outside all morning, and the scent makes your legs feel weak.

“That’s precious, but just call me Toji, yeah?”

You nod feverishly awaiting his next words.

“Doll, the only one here that’s uncomfortable is you. I’m just fine. Like you said, everybody does it.” He’s now sitting directly in front of you, with eyes that are drilling holes into your skin. You feel like prey in his eyes and you’re not sure if being scared is an appropriate response.

He adds, with a grin, “how about I show you how I do it?”

————————————————————————

Did you hear him correctly? Show you how he… how he masturbates? At this point, you’re starting to think your weed was laced. There is no way this man that oozes sex appeal is offering to touch himself. In front of you. You take a few breaths to ground yourself and try to think of anything that you could say back to that.

“H-how you do what, Toji?”

Regrettably, you let your eyes travel down the man before you. He was wearing the same black compression shirt from the night before, along with a pair of loose, gray sweatpants. My god was he big. He didn’t even look fully hard, and yet, it was about to bust the seam of his sweats. You could even see a wet patch forming at the tip of his cock if you squinted. You felt your mouth watering at the sight. You thought about how big he would feel in your tiny hands, how it would feel down your throat. How he would tell you how to take him best since you weren’t the most experienced. You blinked a few times before you gained the courage to refocus your attention on his face.

“Don’t play dumb with me little girl. Lemme’ show you how I make myself feel good, and you can do the same for me.”

At this point, he was crawling towards you. You had no choice but to lie down underneath him, retreating into your mattress as best you could. He was now hovering over you, eyes peering into yours. You had no where to run.

He continues, “and then when we’re done, we can use everything we learned on each other. How does that sound huh, sweet girl? I know you’re real smart so this shouldn’t be hard for you at all.” He brings his hand up to play with the thin strap of your bikini top. He slowly slides the strap over your shoulder, and plants a wet kiss where it once resided.

You shiver in response, ultimately petrified as to what will happen next. You were excited, sure, but Toji didn’t know you were a virgin. You didn’t want to disappoint him with your lackluster skills. On top of that, you weren’t even sure if you could take an average sized dick, let alone a monster like Toji’s.

“Don’t get quiet on me now, woman. You were begging to be fucked like a slut just a minute ago. Use your words.” He lowers himself so he can whisper what you’ve been wanting to hear since last night, “Tell me what you want, and I’ll fucking give it to you”

“T-Toji, I can’t, it’s s-so embarrassing. I don’t know if we should.”

“Look, doll, we already know what’s going to happen. Besides, you’re the one in here wearing next to nothing while you play with your sweet pussy. All you have to do is ask, girl”

There’s no turning back now. A little heavy petting and making out won’t hurt anyone, right?

“You, Toji. I-I want you.”

“Ask nicely and I’ll think about it.” He says as he peppers sloppy kisses on your collarbone. He sucks and nips at the skin on your neck, making you writhe underneath him. He adores watching you come undone for him.

“Please, pretty please, I want you. I need you, Toji.” You couldn’t believe you were saying this out loud. Yeah, you’ve been wanting, no, dreaming for this to happen. But why are you begging him like he’s the last man on earth?

“Oh it’s a need, not a want huh? Guess I better fucking give it to you then, right? Wouldn’t want to deprive your filthy cunt anymore than she already has been.”

You whimper as his vulgar words fill your ears. You knew Toji had a foul mouth, but you had no clue to what extent. The way he was talking now had you scared for what’s to come. You felt red hot whenever he touched you, and you couldn’t help but moan when he was licking stripes up your ear and telling you to sit up for him.

He throws the blanket off the bed as he helps you sit up against your pillow. He pushed you up against the headboard as his lips crash into yours. You whine into the kiss and he plunges his tongue into your mouth. You nearly lose it when he bites your bottom lip and sucks on it, easing the pain. You can taste the alcohol on his breath, and he can smell the weed all over you. He’s pulling away all too soon as he sits back at the end of the bed.

“Now I want you to be a good girl and do everything I say, ya’hear? I would hate if your daddy found out that you were smoking today, ya’know, since he’s a cop and all. We can keep this between us and he won’t hear a thing, okay doll?”

You furiously nod your head in agreement. Your dad would make your life a living hell if he knew you smoked. Plus, even without the threat on the table, you were anxious to see what Toji would do with you next.

“I already told you to use your words once. Don’t make me say it again.”

“S-sorry, Toji. I won’t tell anyone I promise.”

“That’s what I thought. Come sit on my lap, pretty girl.”

As if you were under his spell, you shift your way towards the end of the bed and do as you’re told. You can immediately feel how hard he is underneath you. It doesn’t help that the material of these bottoms are paper thin. You swear you can feel his member throb and if you weren’t wet enough before this, you definitely were now. You were just about to rut your hips forward to help relieve the ache between your thighs.

Until Toji pushes you back so you’re sitting on his big thighs, legs spread impossibly far. His thighs were so toned and big, and it didn’t help that he had his legs crossed. It was all you could do to not fall into his chest searching for your balance.

“Gimme some room, brat. You’re not gonna learn how to make me feel good if you can’t see this dick now will you?”

You nod in anticipation and you anxiously await his next move. He palms himself over his sweats and you can’t help but whimper. He tosses his head back and groans, gripping on his leaking tip while he bites his bottom lip. He’d never let you know it, but he could have cum just from you sitting on his lap like that. Your big ‘fuck me’ eyes staring back at him as you grind all over his throbbing cock. Your sweet clit getting hit in all the right spots while you soak his pants. He knew he’d have to edge himself before he had his way with you or else he might cum before you even take your bikini off.

You watched Toji grunt in satisfaction as he rubbed the tip of his cock through his sweats. Your face grew a shade darker as he bit his lip and whined your name. You couldn’t help but look away as it felt too sinful to look upon someone so lustfully.

Wait, did he just.. whine? For you? Surely you were hearing things. You couldn’t have, though, right? It was clear as day:

“Fuck, y/n. Look s-sooo… pretty f’me, baby”

A smirk forms across your face as you realize he’s just as needy as you are right now. And did he just call you baby? This was getting too good. At this moment, you felt like you had regained some semblance of your confidence back. That was, until he was quick to rebuke your cute little smirk with his downright pornographic words.

“Watcha’ smiling for, huh? Think it’s funny that you’ve got me so hot for you I bet, heh.” He chuckles at you, “You’re lucky I didn’t just make you suck this cock so I could blow my load down your throat and be done with you, slut.”

A moan escapes your lips as you bite your bottom lip, trying to maintain any sense of composure you had left. It was disconcerting how quickly he took that little shred of confidence and flipped it on a dime. All the while, he’s still stroking himself through his sweats and you see a small bead of sweat form at his temple (should you lick it off?) As you look down at what was once a small stain on the outside of his pants, you see the wet patch has grown much larger. It was more than enough to show that he was desperate for stimulation, just as you were.

You felt yourself cringe at how exposed you felt as you straddle him. He looks up at you with dark, hooded eyes. Some of his hair is starting to stick to his forehead, (since when was it this fucking hot in the house???) and he looks so domineering, in spite of the fact that he was underneath you. You stifle another moan as you look down at your hands, trying to break eye contact before you explode.

“Don’t be shy, baby doll. Look at how hard ya’ got me, yeah?”

He finally grabs the waistband of his sweats, dragging them slowly off of his length. To your (non)surprise, he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. His cock springs forward onto his clothed stomach with a loud smack. He was even bigger than you thought. He was so hard it looked painful, almost. His tip was red and weeping precum, and his dick twitched as you gasped. It was so veiny and girthy. I mean it had to be at least ten inches. There was no fucking way that was going to fit.

He hisses at the cool air. He had to grab the base of his cock to stop himself from painting your stomach white. You looked so hungry for him as you gasped, and the sight was enough to send Toji reeling.

“When I came in here and saw you in that slutty little swimsuit, it took everything in me not to take these bottoms off and fuck you right there.” He says as he runs a hand under your bikini bottoms, grabbing your ass so hard you’re sure it’ll leave a bruise.

His words make your pussy hot, and you can’t help but grind into nothing. Toji wouldn’t let you sit on just one of thighs, no. He wanted you straddling both of them, pussy spread out right in front of his cock, but without any contact so you couldn’t get any sort of friction where you needed it the most.

“Aw,” he coos, “I bet you would like that huh, baby? I’m sure those guys back at uni never made you finish. Is that right?”

You scramble to say something believable. No guys at school had made you finish but they also never got the chance to. When it came to your sexual experiences, you were more of a giver.

“Uh, I-I mean, I guess technically not, but it-“

“Oh wait, don’t tell me. Is today my lucky fucking day?”

Fuck. You couldn’t help but hide behind your hands. It didn’t help that he slowly started to work his hand up and down his length. He let out a throaty groan as his thumb ran over his slit, gathering the excessive precum and using it to tease his cock head.

“What do you mean, t-toji?”

“You’re a virgin, aren’t ya’, y/n?”

The only sounds that could be heard were your heavy breathing and the sounds of his dick being stroked ever so slowly. There was no point in lying now. He could read you like a book.

“Y-yeah, I am. I’ve just been so busy with school, and like, I-I’ve done stuff before it just never got to the point where-“

“I knew it. Shh, it’s okay baby doll. You just wanted to save that pretty cunt for a real fucking man, right? You knew those college boys could never give some proper dick.” You can’t help the grin that grows across your face, because he honestly wasn’t wrong.

“Don’t worry. Toji’s gonna take real good care of you. Why don’t you spit on it f’me, huh doll?”

Jesus Christ, he was so fucking nasty. You’re sitting in this man’s lap, ogling him as he pleases himself. He was moaning now, going at a steady pace as he kept his eyes planted on you. You gathered as much spit as you can before you hovered over his cock, letting it dangle out of your mouth before it completely covers the tip.

“That’s it, good fucking girl. You’re doing so good f’me already.”

You watch as he takes your spit and uses it to slide all the way down his length. The sounds he was making were downright evil, and your pussy was aching with want. You wanted his fingers inside you so bad, but he was currently occupied. He was big enough that even three hands wouldn’t cover all of him, so he was going at it with both hands now.

As if he could read your mind, he spits out, “touch yourself for me, doll. Show me what you were doin’ before I interrupted, hmm?”

He had to be joking. You were already embarrassed enough after he caught you in the act, but now he wants you to reenact it? You were desperate for anything at this point, but couldn’t he just do it for you?

“But, t-toji-“ you whine.

“Don’t but me. I know you want to sweetheart. Now don’t make me ask again.”

You don’t even respond, instead reaching your hand down and to start rubbing little circles on the outside of your bikini bottoms. You let a moan slip past your lips. You didn’t realize how badly you needed this until now.

“Girl, if I wanted to watch some soft core I would. Take that little number off so you can really feel it, yeah?”

“A-are you sure?”

“What do you think?”

He releases his dick from his vice grip to help you undress. He undoes the bow behind your back, then he unties the sides of your bikini bottoms. He comments under his breath at how easy it would be for him to sneak up behind you and untie your bottoms so he could fuck you by the pool, as a breathy moan leaves both of your throats. He rips both of the pieces off in a flash before they were discarded to the floor. You suddenly felt so barren in front of him, being that he was still nearly fully clothed.

“Goddamn, if I would have known what you looked like underneath I would have walked in on you a long time ago. You know I’ve heard you doing it before right? I’d just listen then go take care of myself later. Wouldn’t want to ruin my special girl too soon, now would I?” He asks as e grabs a handful of your plump tit and kneads it in his hand.

You feel your neck turned red as you watch him eye you up and down. He reaches forward and starts to suck on your nipple, making you moan above him. He’s stopped stroking himself at this point, instead wrapping his hand around the base of his cock to keep from cumming. I mean he hadn’t got laid in a while, but shit. This was getting ridiculous. He jerked off plenty, but something about seeing your pale, soft skin all bare for him was making his stomach do flips. Your fat tits, your sinful hips, and god your fucking pussy. It was so plump and wet, it was practically begging for his cock. He needed to fucking ruin you.

His words went right to your pussy, and you continued to touch yourself without instruction. At this point, you were too desperate to care about embarrassing yourself. If he wasn’t going to make you cum, you were going to on your own.

You didn’t even need to lick your fingers before you continued toying with your clit. Given that the masturbation session turned into an impromptu mutual masturbation session, your pussy had been wet for god knows how long now. You were chasing your climax at a rapid pace, but you couldn’t quite tip over the edge. Maybe it was the position, or the previous embarrassment. But regardless, you couldn’t think about cumming without Toji’s fingers deep inside you.

“T-Toji, please. Need.. h-help”

“T-Toji, pwease!” He mocks, causing you to stop your movements.

“I want you Toji, pretty please?”

“What is it that at you want, huh?”

Is he really going to make you spell it out for him?

“I want you, I-I need you to make me cum, p-please Toji, fuck”

How could he say no to that?

pt. 4

[animasolaoriginal]

INFATUATED ♦️ THREE

CHAPTER ONE ♦️ SERIES MASTERLIST ♦️ AO3

He finds out the girl he picked up on a whim is the perfect candidate. So innocent, so submissive already, with just the right amount of Daddy issues. But she still has a lot to learn, and he's determined to teach her everything.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Sex toys. Fingering. Cunnilingus. Orgasm denial. Oral sex/deepthroating. Anal play. Creampies. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 4.9k

TWO 🟥 THREE 🟥 FOUR

He's surprised how quickly she adjusted to her new surroundings, to the things he's asked of her, forced on her. Maybe she's still feeling the after-effects of the drug he's given her last night, maybe she doesn't understand the situation just yet, maybe she's simply the perfect candidate for this. To stay here, for him. She's barely putting up any fight, only seems embarrassed most of the time, but the way she's sucked him off has shown him how eager she really is.

Even though she still has a long way to go. Too fucking innocent.

She's that little ball of hair and limbs on his lap, curled up, melting into him, small hands that have been around his cock now gripping his shirt. Feet tucked under his thigh, deep little breaths against his chest. It's been only a few hours, and she's already so submissive. He's almost disappointed he didn't get to break her first. But maybe her defiance is yet to come. He's certainly looking forward to it.

His phone chimes on the coffee table, and he throws a quick look at the display. The courier is here. Good. Without a word, he stands, picking her up effortlessly. She hums against him, leans into him as he carries her into the bedroom. When he puts her down on the bed, leaning over her for a moment, he meets her hooded eyes. So pliant, so innocent. He can't help but lean down further to press his lips to hers.

She melts into the mattress as he pushes her deeper, putting his weight on her, elbows on either side of her shoulders as he gives himself a few minutes of a bit more much-needed pleasure before he has to leave her. She's hesitant at first, but as soon as he slips his tongue between her lips, her own jumps into action. A groan escapes him as she kisses him back with more and more confidence. His fingers dig into her hair, their tongues wrestling, his cock stirs back to life against the fabric of his pants.

He leans back abruptly, breathing a little harder, the girl beneath him panting as well, her lips parted and red, glistening. Her eyes on him. “I gotta take care of something,” he tells her quietly. She only blinks. “Be a good girl and wait here for me, okay?” The way her pupils dilate when he calls her that makes his stomach tense up. He's noticed it before, how she reacts to his praise. It's an intoxicating sight.

He crawls off her and stands, looking down at her small frame. White lace was a good choice, accents her innocence perfectly. Those little embroidered flowers barely cover anything, but it's still enough fabric to keep it interesting. She's beautiful, the way she lies in front of him, chest rising and falling, that flutter to her stomach, the little twitch to her thighs as she presses them together and tries to hide her sex. He raises an eyebrow at that.

“While I'm gone,” he says, a smirk growing on his lips, “I have a little task for you.”

He steps towards the nightstand and pulls open the first drawer, randomly picks some of its contents and throws them onto the bed next to her. Her eyes widen when she follows the gesture and stares at the colorful toys. He picks up one of the smaller dildos and braces himself on one arm as he leans over her.

“I want you to be very wet when I come back,” he whispers, gently taking her hand and placing the object onto her small palm. “Understood?”

She still looks at him in shock, and he can already tell she's never used any of the things he's presented her with. Another challenge, another thing he's willing to change. He leans back and looks down at her, head cocked to the side. His eyes narrow slightly when she doesn't reply.

“Understood?” he repeats a little harsher.

A tiny gasp escapes her and she sits up, nodding frantically. “Yes, sir.”

His hand finds her cheek, a gentle caress, thumb running over her bottom lip. He watches her intently. “Good girl.” The shiver that runs through her amuses him immensely. Patting her cheek, he then turns away and leaves her to her own devices.

Returning to his phone, he sends a message to the courier, and minutes later there's a chime on the door. His men are good, and fast, and when he looks through the things in the box that was brought up to his place, he nods in contentment. The things she left in the club, a jacket, a phone, case stuffed with some money, some keys and her ID. He's surprised that she's actually 19, when she looks quite a bit younger. Not that it really matters. His eyes scan her name, memorizing it. Fits her.

There's a folder tucked into the side, all the information they could gather on her, and the more he reads, the wider his smile gets. She is perfect, a random pick, an instinct, and it has still been the best choice. Alone in the big city. He checks her phone, swipes through pictures and messages. There's only one new message, someone congratulating her. Not many social contacts, no Mom or Dad or other relatives. Does explain a few things though. The girl definitely lacked the presence of a proper authority figure in her life, or at least someone who could give her the attention she needs, someone to hug her even, guide her through life, tell her what's right or wrong. No wonder she's so overwhelmed with his advances, yet strangely compliant at the same time.

Daddy issues.

What a perfect little thing that found her way into his clutches. He turns the phone off and puts it back into the box, then locks it securely in the safe in his office, before he focuses on the bag that came with the delivery. Clothes he ordered for her, more underwear mostly, some dresses, shoes. He doesn't plan to take her out much, not yet, so she won't need too many clothes anyway. They're just an illusion of safety for now, something she feels more comfortable in, before he'll take that away as well.

Grabbing the bag, he returns to the bedroom – and freezes. The bed is empty, except for the array of sex toys on the blanket. Untouched, unmoved. And the girl is gone. Something hot rises inside him, his hand tightens around the straps of the bag. He checks the bathroom, also empty. When he opens the door to his walk-in closet, he hears a soft little gasp, before his eyes move down to the far back where she's curled up on her side, wide eyes staring at him from under her lashes.

Like a beaten animal – and he hasn't even done anything to her yet. Not really, anyway.

He puts the bag down on a shelf and approaches her slowly. The dildo he gave her lies in front of her, just as untouched as the rest. She curls up even more, a little ball of hair and limbs, white lace in stark contrast to the dark rug she's lying on. He crouches down, hands resting on his knees as he watches her.

“What are you doing here, baby?” he asks quietly. “Are you hiding from me?”

She sniffles, shakes her head. “No,” she mumbles, wide eyes following his every move. Why is she so skittish all of a sudden? The drugs probably wore off. Poor thing.

He doesn't care. His hand reaches out and grabs her elbow, pulls her closer. A little yelp escapes her. He sits down on the floor and pulls her between his legs, she struggles against him but his fingers close around her arm, squeezing harder than he intended. She winces, a deep shudder rushing through her small body when he drapes her legs over his thigh, making her lean against him. One arm securely around her, holding her with enough authority that she stops squirming, he raises the other hand and grabs her chin, makes her look at him.

“What happened?” he asks, looking at her, scanning her face, fear and shock evident on it.

She averts her eyes, chewing on her lip. He squeezes her chin.

“Look at me.”

She does, with a soft little whine, blinking rapidly, eyes glistening as she meets his gaze. “M'sorry...” she mumbles.

“For what?” His voice is stern, and she frowns at his tone.

“For... for not... doing... what you told me...” she whispers, the first tear falling from her lashes. “I... I couldn't...”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”

Her cheeks are bright red by now, her eyes moving over his face in frantic little flutters. “Felt... wrong...”

He watches her, letting go of her chin to move his hand straight between her legs. She flinches and yelps when his fingertips brush against her panties. The fabric is a little damp, warm against his touch. He doesn't hesitate and slips a finger under the hem, testing the waters. She turns her head away, whining softly as her blush spreads over her shoulders. “Do you need my help?” he whispers.

She only stiffens in his hold as his finger glides along her slit. Warm, wetter than he expected. He doesn't know why she was so stressed about this task or thinking she failed him. She's perfectly responsive. His lips brush against her temple.

“Tell me you need me to help you...” he breathes against her.

Her thighs twitch. “I... I need you to... to help me...” she mumbles out, burying her face in his chest in a little gesture of embarrassment. So fucking cute.

“Good girl,” he hums and kisses her forehead while his finger slips between her folds, gathers her slick and promptly dips into her entrance.

She flinches, but keeps quiet, leaning into him as he nudges her legs apart with his thumb. His finger slips in and out of her, her tight walls gripping him in a way that makes his cock throb. Her wetness gathers around him, quiet squelching sounds filling his ear. She lets out little noises of discomfort, barely-there whines, almost-sobs but in a way that doesn't seem too distressed. She's slowly adjusting, relaxing in his hold, her breaths deeper.

His thumb finds her clit, and when he pushes gently on it, she wails a little louder, her legs trembling, her small hands gripping the front of his shirt as she melts into him more. He keeps drawing tight circles around her nub, his digit pushing deep, in and out, faster, her wetness runs over his hand. The moment she becomes really still, a sharp inhale cutting through the air, he stops, pulls away, and she looks up with her lips parted, almost pouty, eyebrows furrowed, disappointed.

He smirks at her and brings his wet finger to her lips. She doesn't fight it when he slips it into her mouth, rubs it over her tongue and along her gums, pushes deeper. She freezes again, stares at him, but then she closes her lips around his finger and sucks, her tongue flicking around it, licking up her own juices. He pulls it out with a wet pop and leans down, capturing her mouth for a quick, deep kiss, sucking on her tongue, tasting her. She melts into him, clinging to him, but as soon as she starts to relax again, he lets go, leans back, leans around her to grab the dildo still lying behind her on the floor.

“Here,” he says and puts the small pink object into her hand. “If you want to finish it, do it with this.”

She stares at him, eyes wide, fingers curling around the toy, her face flushed. And then she shakes her head, catching him off guard.

“No?” he whispers, raising his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

Her breaths are loud through her nose as she holds his gaze, not saying anything.

He narrows his eyes. His first instinct is to grab the toy and shove it deep into her tight pussy himself, but he refrains, pushes her off his lap and stands, then grabs her wrist and drags her out of the closet. She stumbles after him and yelps when he throws her onto the bed.

Scrambling to her knees, her lips parted and trembling, she stares at him with her eyes wide in shock. He ignores her for now and walks to the bedside table, rummaging through the drawer until he retrieves a little teardrop shaped object, bright pink as well, smooth silicone with a little antenna.

A high-pitched squeal escapes her as he grabs her and pushes her onto her stomach, one large hand on her lower back, holding her down as she starts to squirm. “Stay still or this'll be more uncomfortable than it should be,” he tells her through gritted teeth. She stiffens, her breaths loud and frantic as she white-knuckles the sheets.

He moves the toy between her ass cheeks, pleased to see the butt plug is still in place. Nudging it slightly, he makes her wince. Pushing her legs apart a bit more with his knee, he slides her underwear aside, grabs her thigh to steady her and lets the small vibrator glide between her slick folds, and it's only a little push of his thumb before it slips into her, swallowed up by the tense muscles of her pussy. She lets out a strained whine. He wipes his palm over her mound gently, then tugs on the fat string until he finds the thicker bit at the end. The button clicks audibly when he presses it, and she gasps when the first vibrations shake her body. It's low, but still definitely overwhelming for her.

He puts her thong back in place and grabs her elbow, dragging her off the bed. Her legs are trembling, the low hum between her twitching thighs barely audible, but he hears it, sees her reaction to it, feels his blood pumping into his cock, the throbbing almost painful, and he wonders why he's taking his time with her. He could have had her last night, this morning, any time he wanted, fucked her hard and mercilessly, any hole he desired, and yet he waits, eases her into it, with a patience (or restraint) that surprises himself.

Sighing loudly, he grabs her hand and leads her out of the bedroom, she follows him on shaking limbs, too stunned to protest now. They reach the open kitchen, and he grabs her waist and sets her on the island, hears the faint clanging noise when the base of her plug hits the marble top. Spreading her legs, he steps between them, braces one arm on either side of her, stares down at her darkly.

Her eyes are wide, glistening, shock and uncertainty on her face, but there's also a deep blush and a tightness to her lips as she fights the sensations pulsing through her small body. Her hands fidget between her legs, a nervous little gesture. He rips them away, tells her to sit on them. She does with a bit of hesitation as she watches him with bated breath. He leans in, lets his breath fan over her cheek, then kisses the corner of her mouth, and there's a jerk in her neck as she turns her head, trying to meet his lips.

He pulls away before that, exhaling through his nose. His hands move over her legs, thumbs brushing along her inner thighs until he pushes them against the damp fabric of her underwear. Her wetness seeps past it already, staining the white satin bit, and he licks his lips at the sight. His restraint is slipping, he can't help it, he can smell her arousal, and it's driving him insane.

In one swift motion he grabs her hip, pulls her to the edge and leans down to press his mouth to her inner thigh, quickly kissing up the soft skin to where the little pink antenna pokes out of her. His free hand tugs at it, then he drags her panties aside and closes his lips around her folds. She yelps softly, body jerking against him. His fingers dig into her flesh, hold her in place as he laps up along her slit, gathers her sweet wetness on his tongue, drinks her up like a man parched.

She whimpers when he sucks on her clit, teeth grazing her soft, sensitive skin while he fumbles with the toy and presses the button a few more times, feeling the vibrations increasing, her hips jerking, thighs pressing against his head. Her noises are getting louder, helpless whines and mewls as she squirms on the counter, hands still squished under her legs while he continues to eat her out with a passion that he hasn't felt in ages.

Holding her with one hand, he tries to counteract her uncontrollable twitches, while his other hand rubs over her thigh before his index finger pokes at her entrance, following the toy inside. It's thrumming hard against her tense muscles, and he pushes it around a little with his finger before he finds the right spot, and that's when she really wails, body spasming against him, the heels of her feet thudding loudly into the cabinet as she tries to ground herself somehow.

He holds the toy pressed to her g-spot, still sucking on her clit, eyes moving up to watch her lose it in front of him. She's arching her back, head tilted upwards, chest pushed out, arms trembling before she can't keep her composure any longer and pulls her hands from under her legs and grabs his hair, two sets of small fingers with an iron grip that surprises him. Either to push him away or hold him right there, he isn't sure. Whatever the case, he lets her, gives her that one moment of control.

Her walls tighten around the toy and his finger, rhythmic clenching, her orgasm is so close, she's right on the edge, and it's that moment that he hooks his finger around the toy and pulls it out, leaning back, slipping from her suddenly limp fingers, and leaves her throbbing and panting, watches her deflate as her orgasm slips away again. A whine escapes her, and she falls backwards onto the counter, body convulsing without release, hiding her flushed face behind her shaking hands.

He straightens himself, licks his lips and then his finger, puts the vibrating toy on the counter before he turns it off. She's sobbing now, overwhelmed and left hanging. Poor thing. But it's not over yet.

Hooking his hands under her arms, he hoists her off the counter and pushes her down on her knees in front of him. She's too surprised to react, slowly lowers her hands and looks up at him, tears streaming down her red cheeks. Without a word or command, he unbuckles his belt and opens his pants, then snaps his fingers at her. Despite her trembling state, she follows the order instantly, automatically, that inborn desire to please stirring within her, when her small hands move up to push his pants and underwear down enough to free his erection.

The initial touch is almost enough to push him to the edge and over, but he braces himself, puts his hands on his hips and watches her as she closes her fingers around his length, slowly stroking up and down like he's shown her. Her eyes stay on him, watching him closely, and he tilts his head, pressing his lips into a thin line, a slight furrow between his eyebrows. He sees her swallowing, and barely a second later, her lips brush against his hot skin, the contact enough to coax a little groan out of him.

He watches her closely as she moves her lips up and down his shaft, tongue licking along his bulging veins, circling his tip, flicking over his slit, before she opens her mouth and takes him deeper. She's a little hesitant, careful, one hand still on his girth, the other braced against his thigh as she slowly bobs her head, lips closed around his tip, cheeks hollowed, the little suction really tempting his self-control. He wants her to find her own pace, get better on her own, learn to pleasure him properly, but he also really wants to fuck her throat and make her choke on his cock. The struggle is real.

His hands move to her head, a gentle little caress, fingers sliding through her hair, slowly nudging her closer, she shifts on her knees, the hand on his thigh pulling her into him. Her eyes are closed now, and he can see tears forming under her lashes as she keeps moving her head back and forth, the hand that's tight around his girth keeping her from taking him deeper. He feels her warm mouth, that little tongue flicking around his tip, hot and wet, sucking softly, almost meditatively, and he can't help it, he bucks his hips slightly against her, his cockhead poking into her cheek when she turns her head with a little muffled whine.

One of his hands moves down to grab her chin, holding her in place, head slightly tilted, as he repeats the same motion, pushing into her mouth, watching her cheek bulge. He hasn't noticed it before, but she's a natural at keeping her teeth out of the way, her jaw opened wide enough to allow him to slip in and out fairly easily. Her eyelids flutter open, and she meets his gaze, her eyes glistening, pupils dilated more than he has expected. She's enjoying this, huh?

He smirks at her, moves her head a little and tilts her chin up before he pumps his hips a little harder against her, more of his cock slipping into her small mouth. She stiffens, both hands now gripping the fabric of his pants, bracing, a sliver of panic in her eyes. He watches her closely, the grip on her chin hard as he concentrates, holds back, fights the urge to just fuck her cute little face. His breaths are quick and loud through his nose.

She holds still, doesn't fight it, and he uses that submission to move faster and eventually slips deeper, feeling his tip prodding the back of her throat. She gags almost immediately, a sudden reflex, her body convulsing against him, fingers digging into his legs, and he lets her pull back with a deep cough, saliva dripping from her lips. But he only lets her relax for so long, before he pushes his cock back into her mouth, deeper, to that spot once more, and she gags again, spit filling her mouth, coating his tip, yet this time he holds her head in place, and she lets out a pained little howl, muffled but clearly distressed.

Sighing, he grips her hair and pulls her back again, lets her catch her breath, swallow the excess spit. Tears stream down her face, her eyes are red, eyebrows furrowed, a helpless expression mixed with something like indignation looking up at him. A low laugh escapes him, and he grips her chin and pulls her back, cock slipping into her mouth, her tongue scraping along the underside, frantic little breaths through her nose, warm on his skin.

“Relax,” he tells her, and strangely enough it's that command that lets him slip deeper, past her gag reflex, further into her tight throat. It's only a few seconds though before she gags yet again, fingernails sinking into his legs, that little uncontrollable twitch as her body fights the new sensation of having her throat stuffed. She gurgles, desperate to breathe, too panicked to relax anymore. He pushes her away, and she splutters, spit and precum flying from her trembling lips, her shoulders shaking.

It takes all of him to loosen his grip on her, but when he lets go of her chin and her hair, inhaling deeply, she looks up almost surprised. Bracing his arms on the counter behind her, he closes his eyes, fighting the urge to make her choke again. That feeling when her throat tenses around his tip, squeezes him, it's something he enjoys a little too much, almost as much as watching her suffer through it, with her tears streaming down her face and her hands digging into his legs, that desperate struggle for control.

He'll force that urge right out of her, soon. Another time.

“Suck,” he grunts instead, standing still as he leans over her.

She resumes her ministrations, one hand around his girth, pumping and stroking, while she closes her lips around his tip again, sucking and licking it, keeping it far away from the back of her throat. She's shaky and sloppy, her wet slurping noises echoing through the room, her body still trembling, but she somehow manages to bring him right to the edge after all. He feels his balls tightening, his stomach tensing up, his cock throbbing in her hold. His hands itch, clenched into fists on the counter, his body shivering. So close. So fucking close...

A deep groan escapes his throat, and he leans back abruptly, grips her hair and pulls her off him, a sharp inhale coming from the girl beneath him. Her eyes are wide as she looks up at him, and he just ignores her, hooks his hands around her elbows and pulls her to her feet. She's that tiny body he can manhandle however he wants, and she ends up on her stomach on the counter, short legs dangling off the edge, feet kicking before he cages her in, one hand on her lower back, the other moving straight to the little shiny knob sitting between her plump ass cheeks.

Before she can comprehend what's happening or try to fight him, he drags her panties aside and pulls the plug out with a plop, puts it on the counter with a clang, before he grips his throbbing cock and pushes the tip against her sphincter. She lets out a surprised wail, her hands reaching back to swat him away, but he only grabs them and bends her arms behind her back, held by one large hand. She still struggles as he pushes further, forcing his tip deeper. He doesn't have time to prepare her properly, he's close to exploding.

She whines, writhing on the counter despite his unrelenting hold, and he watches her tight muscles give way to him, the grip almost as good as her tensing throat. His crown slips in, and he stops, letting it rest there as he strokes his shaft hard and fast, until he feels that tension finally dissolve. He comes with a deep grunt, arching his head back, feeling his cock throb and twitch in his hand and in her ass.

Spurt after spurt shoots into her tightness, filling her up until the first drops seep past the tight ring of muscles that clench around him involuntarily as she squirms helplessly, sobbing softly. When he relaxes against her, shoulders sagging, the grip on her arms loosening, he wishes he'd prepared her better, made her more pliant, open her up properly to take more of him. But this'll do for now. Once the twitching subsides, he gently pulls his cock out, watching her ass gape for a moment, his thick seed slipping out almost immediately.

He pushes it back in, feeling her tense muscles close around his finger. Then he grabs the plug and brings it back into position, holding her down again as she starts squirming more, the cold metal slipping into place, plugging up his warm cum. He exhales deeply once he is done, and when he lets go of her and steps back, he can't help but slap her plump cheek once for good measure.

She sobs louder, but remains lying on her stomach, legs dangling off the edge, immobile, all the fight gone from her body. He watches her as he puts his spent dick back into his pants. “What a good girl you are,” he whispers, noticing a wave of goosebumps rippling over her skin. His hands are on her round rear, gently sliding up and down, thumbs teasing between the cheeks. He fixes her thong, nudges the plug, smirks when she flinches at the motion.

Then he grabs her waist and pulls her off the counter, turning her so he can scoop her up into his arms. Despite her reluctance and the fact that she's still crying softly, she leans against him, needy little fingers digging into the collar of his shirt. No matter how hard she fights him, fights the sensations and experiences he gives her, she is clearly craving this, his attention, the care he gives her afterwards, the gentle moments after however rough he treats her.

It's a good dynamic. It'll work, he's sure. She will be absolutely perfect.

He carries her into the bedroom, carefully putting her down on the bed. She immediately rolls onto her side, knees pulled up to her chest, wiping at her wet face, avoiding his gaze as he watches her closely. When he leans down, she flinches, but he only grabs the edge of the blanket and drapes it over her small body.

“Rest now,” he tells her, straightening back up. “I'll order us some food.”

TWO 🟥 THREE 🟥 FOUR

End notes: Just a little side note on where this story is set: it could be literally anywhere (where there are skycrapers or a downtown area with taller buildings). I did not have a specific place in mind, could be any major American city, could be a bigger European city, anywhere you like to think of. It doesn't really matter anyway. (And if it is set in America, just imagine his club to be one of those more lax ones where the drinking age isn't 21 or at least nobody cares about it.)

Also, you may have guessed it, but our male protagonist is a little bit more than just a nightclub owner. I won't go into too many details, just know he's influencial, if you'd like to call it that. And definitely intimidating enough for anyone to bow before him, not just our poor girl who might just be a little in over her head at this point.

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Monday!

TAG LIST: @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE◾

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN

ELEVEN TWELVE◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN◾TWENTY

[maple-seed]

Thrown - Chapter 50: Threads of Fate

Summary: Loki contemplates textiles.

Word Count: 2,364

Author's Note: I can't believe we'll be finishing out this story next week. Surreal.

Thrown Masterlist Loki Masterlist

New Asgard's harbor was teeming with activity. This is, of course, the nature of harbors, but right now it was exceptionally so. Between the fishing boats and other standard commerce it was busy enough on an average day, but Midsummer's steady approach meant a tremendous influx of supplies coming through the docks. Not only were the last of the materials for the final furnishing of the hall being delivered, but the ensuing ball had inspired a great leap in intake. Every craftsman, every vendor wanted to lend their hands to the event. Everyone wanted to contribute, and so a number of new commodities were making their way into the town every day.

With all the work to be done it had grown difficult to wrangle Thor away for their daily walk, but Loki was persistent, which is why they were now ambling along beside the docks. The Valkyrie had joined them this afternoon, as she had been instrumental in convincing Thor to leave his post.

"I'm so sick of Midsummer." Valkyrie groaned. "I can't wait for it to be done with." Thor chuckled. "It will be over soon enough." He glanced at Loki before grinning. "And then there will be next year." Another groan as she covered her face. "No, please! We can't do this all again." "I have to agree." Loki chimed. "Thank you, Loki." Valkyrie balked. "Words I never thought I would say." Thor looked at his brother skeptically. "You truly think we shouldn't do this again next year?" "Of course not." Loki waved the idea away. "Next year we'll be much more established. The hall will already be in place. The event should be twice as grand, at least." Thor broke into laughter while Valkyrie glared. "You're the worst." Loki only offered a satisfied smirk.

The trio meandered through the streets and eventually the brothers' humble home was in sight.

"Dinner?" Valkyrie offered. "I could eat. We could order something." Loki shook his head. "Leave me out of it." Valkyrie rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you're still too good for pizza." Thor raised a brow. "I suspect he simply has other places to be." "Yes." Loki nodded. "But she was correct as well. Pizza is beneath me." Thor laughed as they reached the doorstep. "My own brother, I hardly see him." He gestured dramatically to the house behind him. "I assume he still lives here, but I can't be sure." Loki scoffed. "We have all the time to spend together." "I can recall when I believed that were true." Thor's tone was still light, but there was something swimming in his eyes that drew Loki's concern. "Whatever. It's nice having a break from him." Val muttered. "I'll never know what's wrong with her but bless her for taking him off our hands." With that she pushed past the princes and made her way inside, calling back over her shoulder that she would place the usual order.

Thor turned to follow her when Loki caught his elbow. "Thor, am I spending too much time away?" Thor smiled and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We work together every day. We have time enough." He straightened and took a step back. "There are moments that may weigh on me, when I recall the times I thought I would never see you again. But that is my own burden." Loki stood quiet for a moment. "I'm not going anywhere." Thor wore a wry smile. "I know." He pat Loki on the shoulder as he shifted into a grin. "It seems I may never be rid of you. Now go see your lady. Give her my regards."

**

Loki made his way down the road toward your home, thoroughly distracted by what Thor had said. He ruminated on what his brother might be carrying unseen. They often spoke of the past, even the parts of their history that didn't overlap with the other, but perhaps it was not enough. He was so caught up in this concern that he very nearly didn't notice the figures in the distance, but eventually the movement caught his eye. It was a buckskin draft horse, cantering over the open hills at the behest of its rider. He recognized both.

You had apparently already spotted him, as the horse was very decidedly moving in his direction at speed. He stopped and stood still to better appreciate the sight. Breidr was so large, and you always seemed so small in comparison. The stark difference made your control of the animal all the more captivating. It was effortless. You put him in the mind of a warrior queen, sure and strong and riding into battle. Fearsome and beautiful. He could stand and admire you for ages. He was still caught up in his awe as you came up alongside. Brought the horse to a stop beside the road and looked down at him expectantly.

"You look ridiculous up there." He sniffed. "I didn't know you even had a saddle for that beast." Your smile said that you saw right through him. Loki generally avoided lying to you, and he was beginning to worry this might have put him out of practice. You seemed to spot every one. "I don't take him out like this very often but every now and then the fancy strikes." You patted Breidr before turning back to Loki. "Where are you headed?" He sighed as he reached up to stroke the horse's neck. "Oh, a desolate place. A ramshackle cottage in the middle of nowhere, outside of any semblance of civilization." "Wow. I can't imagine why a prince would deign to visit such a place." "Yes, well, it seems the woman I love lives there." "Hm. Unfortunate."

You clicked and the horse started forward at a leisurely walk, Loki had to quickly step back out of the way. "I beg your pardon!" "You are pardoned." You called behind you. He quickly caught up and kept pace beside you. "The polite thing, in this circumstance, would be to offer a ride." You pursed your lips, then shook your head. "Sorry. This ramshackle saddle isn't made for two." "Darling you know I adore your cottage and that was simply a jest." "Yes, but I need you to walk." "Why is that?" You smirked. "I'm just really enjoying looking down on you for once." He rolled his eyes. "Petty."

Despite the indignation, he walked beside your steed all the way back to your home, where the two of you shared an evening that was absolutely perfect in all the mundane ways.

**

Loki was immediately aware that this was a dream, a particularly strange one at that. He was standing in a room that was unmistakably on Midgard, though he had no knowledge of it whatsoever. It was entirely unfamiliar, but it appeared to be a bedroom. As he scanned the surroundings his eyes fell on a shape that he recognized instantly. You were huddled on the floor against the wall, face hidden in your hands.

He immediately made his way over and knelt down beside you. "Darling?" You startled, looking up at him with confusion in your eyes. "Loki?" He nodded, looking around the room again. "Yes, it seems-" You flinched as there was a loud banging on the door, and an angry voice on the other side. Loki didn't recognize it, but he could guess who it belonged to. He placed a hand on your arm, and only then did he notice there was no scar there. "My dear, this is only a dream. You're safe, I'm here." That did not seem to ease your worry, though you were clearly trying to listen. "Yeah, yeah. Ok." "We only need to-" He stopped as your face took on a new expression of terror, your eyes fixed on the door.

When Loki turned he saw that the door was now much larger, it was open, and an imposing silhouette stood in its way. The figure was impossibly large, it was not human, and it filled Loki with the same dread you were wearing on your face. Loki quickly turned back to you, the bedroom wall you were huddled against had been replaced by the metal bulkhead of a starship. Behind him he heard the Mad Titan stepping forward.

Loki took your face in both hands and urgently turned you toward him. "Listen, this is a dream, and we are going to wake up, alright?" You nodded feebly, your eyes cutting to the figure behind him. "Wake up now." He shook you gently as the steps grew closer. "Now!"

The both of you jerked into consciousness in your bedroom. Loki sat up and you scrambled into his arms as he pulled you close. Your eyes instinctively turned to the bedroom door, but it was familiar, closed, and held no threats on the other side. Loki held you against him and for several moments the only sound in the room was the two of you catching your breath.

You swallowed. "Was... was that...?" Loki nodded grimly. "Yes." You closed your eyes and dropped your head against his shoulder. "I don't understand what just happened." "It would seem... that we have shared a dream." "That's a thing people can do?" "It is not completely unheard of." "Is it your seiðr?" "No, this is something else. A bond." "What does it mean?" "I'm... I'm not entirely sure." He sighed and leaned back against the headboard. "My mother would know. I wish I could ask her." "I wish you'd paid more attention in magic school." He chuckled and prodded your ribs, you squirmed for a moment before settling back against him.

Silence fell again while this new development was processed. Loki mulled over what this might mean. The exact nature was unclear, however there was one implication that was unquestionable. As the revelation washed over him he felt a lightness in his chest. A joy. It became a quiet chuckle, which eventually grew to a fierce laugh.

He looked at you and found you wearing a bewildered expression. This prompted another laugh and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head before holding you tighter. "Oh, this is wonderful." Your brow furrowed. "Is it?" "Yes, don't you see? It's a bond, between us." "I thought we had lots of bonds already." "No, its-" He paused a moment to search for the best way to explain. "I assume you are familiar with the Norns?" You cocked your head in confusion. "Yeah, a bit. Are they relevant?" "Urðr, Verðandi, and Skuld, together they weave the tapestry of fate, and the destinies of all beings are contained therein." "Right." He looked down, fiddling with the bed sheet. "For... for quite some time now, I have considered myself to be a stray thread, broken loose from the loom." He avoided your gaze. "Without a proper place. I don't belong here-" "Loki." He had expected your admonishment and corrected himself. "I wasn't intended to be here. I had an ordained pattern and I was pulled from it. There is a time and place for a Loki to be, and this was not it. Or so it felt." He took your hand in his. "But this, this bond says differently. It is something distinct and rare. It is not a fluke or coincidence or happenstance. You asked what it means, it means we are connected. I am linked to you and you to me. Woven together." He paused a moment, looking down at your hand, turning it over in his. "I am not a stray thread. I do still have a place in the grand design, and it is here." He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand and met your eyes. "With you." You wore a warm smile as you pulled his hand to you. "I could have told you that."

You leaned to him for a kiss, tender and sweet, before snuggling down again with a sigh. "I guess having proof of your cosmic belonging makes up for the rest of it." He looked down at you, perplexed. "Makes up for what, exactly?" You looked up and grimaced. "It's not great, right? Two people prone to nightmares, sharing dreams. It's going to be rough." He shook his head and waved dismissively. "No, it won't be like that." He laid back down in bed properly, bringing you to rest against him. "Now that we know it's happening, we won't be taken by surprise. We can change it." He gestured in the air. "It will be wonderful. I will show you Asgard. The palace. Other realms, even. Sights you can't fathom." He smirked. "I'm sure there's some quaint place of interest you could show me as well." You glared and moved to pinch him. He caught your wrist with a laugh, placing another kiss on your hand before bringing it to rest on his chest. You relented and laid your head against his shoulder. "So you're pretty sure it's going to happen again." He hummed in agreement. "Hm. Yes, I actually suspect it has happened before." "You think so?" "Indeed. I wonder now how many indecent dreams were actually your doing." You smug smile. "Oh? You've had indecent dreams about me?" "Well, it makes much more sense now that I know my subconscious was being corrupted by your influence." "Don't try to use dream magic to blame me for your perversion." He nuzzled against your ear and growled. "I would argue that you are responsible for it, regardless." This earned a quiet giggle from you.

The both of you settled back in for the night. Loki let his mind wander to the possibilities of this new discovery. There were so many things he wanted you to see. There would be so much more time. Eventually, his thoughts came back to the bond itself. That warmth settled into his chest once more, the certainty that he was where he was meant to be. It was unfamiliar and comforting.

You had drifted back to sleep. He closed his eyes and listened to your soft breaths and felt foolish for ever believing this could be anything other than fate.

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[psychocitywrites]

Hard Truths - V

Summary: Rafe Cameron has everything a man would want. Now he’s looking to settle down. He thinks he’s found the one that checks all the boxes, except she’s not you.

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

The sun was already setting, with orange and pink hues diffusing the once blue sky. Soon, the city would only light up with fluorescent streetlamps and buildings illuminating with people staying late to finish their work.

Rafe would be one of those people. He had been in the office for hours now, making up for coming in later than he usually would. He even skipped out on his lunch just so he could finish by the night.

His mind was replaying the encounter he had with his father when he finally showed up. Ward had been pissed when he saw Rafe but held it in long enough until they were behind closed doors.

Apparently, Ward had brought in an investor to the company without letting him know, and he was surprised to find that Rafe hadn’t shown up yet. Rafe tried to defend himself, saying that he was helping out a friend.

A friend. Even now, it felt weird to say that since he still wasn’t sure what you were to him.

However, to Ward, it was just another excuse for Rafe to skip out on his responsibilities. Apparently, he had missed an important investor’s meeting and got chewed out by his father.

It was ironic to Rafe. Ward had left the company for him to lead, yet his father would come in from time to time to berate him in front of everybody in the office like he was some loser who only got the position due to his last name.

“When I made you a part of this company, I expected to leave it to someone I could trust. Someone who can carry on the Cameron name and legacy. If Sarah were here, she’d never make me look this stupid in front of everybody.”

The golden child and the apple of Ward’s eye had gotten pregnant and married young, leaving Rafe to deal with leading the company, but Ward still held her in high regard. “If only you turned out more like her.” Ward muttered under his breath. Even if Rafe had become the top businessman of the century, Ward would still somehow compare him to Sarah.

Rafe clenched his jaw, already tired to hearing the same old bullshit spew from Ward again.

“Are you done? If so, I’m getting back to work.” He was already getting up, not really bothering to stay for much longer.

“Rose is cleaning up the place. Come get your stuff. We’ve put your things in a box. If you don’t want them, I’ll toss it out by the end of the month”

It was a threat, and Rafe knew his father would do it. Rose had been wanting to get rid of Rafe’s things after he had moved out years ago, but he’d come by to visit Wheezie from time to time and kept some of his items in his old room until she went to college out of state.

Ward didn’t stay too long after that and left, leaving Rafe in a state of restlessness.

Knock, knock, knock.

Topper sheepishly stuck his head through the doorway. “Hey man, you good? The whole office kinda heard what happened today.”

“I’m peachy, what do you think?” Rafe said sarcastically. “What do you want?”

“You still hittin’ it up with Heather? I’m serious about Ruthie wanting a double date. She’s bustin’ my ass to get you to agree to it too.”

Heather. Shit.

He has put his phone on DND after Ward had left and he forgot about her completely after leaving you alone.

Rafe looked at his phone and saw that he had a couple new messages from Heather.

Heather: Rafe! The flowers are beautiful and the chocolates were wonderful Heather: You've made my day with them Heather: I'm sorry I wasn't there to get them irl, so maybe we should meet up?

Perfect. He responded, typing quickly.

Rafe: Sounds good;) Let me know when and where

Five minutes after he sent that, Heather responded.

Heather: Surprise me :)

“Yeah it’s still on with Heather, and no. Me and Ruthie in a room together ain’t happening. I can't stand her yapping.”

Topper groaned. “Ugh, you’re givin’ me blue balls man.” Rafe narrowed his eyes and Topper took the hint. “Okay, looks like you got everything here in order. Imma take my leave now chief.” He saluted on his way out.     

Once Rafe was alone in his office, he sat down on his chair rubbing both of his eyes. Heather's request gave him an excuse to contact you again.

He thought about what had happened earlier and he felt a fuzzy feeling grow in his chest. It must be worry, he thought, but then his stomach grumbled.

Remembering that he had skipped out on his lunch, Rafe glanced at his watch. It read 8:15.

He sighed, already feeling the day wear him down.

He was going to send a text to check up on you, but had beat him to the punch. His phone vibrated with message from you.

y/n: Thank you for today. I’m really glad you helped me today. Let me know if you need anything, i'll try and help

The same fuzzy feeling came back but more intensified, and it made Rafe feel a little uncomfortable.

You’d probably had gotten off work now and texted. He debated on if it was appropriate to ask, but he sent a text anyway.

Rafe: Are you feeling ok? Want me to come over?

Three dots immediately showed up on his phone, then disappeared, then reappeared.

y/n: I'm okay now, you don't have to worry about me

For some reason, Rafe still felt worried. He saw you have to deal with an ass like Kyle, and also saw how you'd been pretty shaken when he last saw you, so before he even knew it, his feet led him out the door and straight to his car. He first made a stop to a Mexican restaurant and ordered enough for two people to go.

He'd memorized you address from the day before and just drove his way there. He knew he should have sent a another text to make sure you were actually at home, but when he parked his car in your drive way and knocked at your door, you had answered, looking wildly confused as to why he was at your door step.

He held up the two bags and a cup holder with drinks. "Is it too late for dinner?"

---

You'd been surprised to see Rafe twice on the same day, and even more so when it was at your house.

You'd been trying to keep your distance with Rafe, knowing that developing unrequited feelings for him would spell out disaster for you, but when he offered you takeout that smelled absolutely amazing, you reluctantly invited him in.

"Is this because you felt bad for me this morning?" You asked with an eyebrow quirking up.

"Nah, I was just in the area."

A complete lie. You knew that wasn’t true. You were pretty sure he lived in the opposite direction, but didn’t push it.

Hesitantly, you opened the door for him.

You weren't prepared to have any guests over. You had worn a casual outfit, just a t-shirt and sweats, and your hair was still damp from taking a shower. Rafe could smell the faint scent of your shampoo when you welcomed him.

When he stepped in, he saw various frames of photos littering the wall. Some had you with what he assumed was your siblings since they shared similar features to you. Some with your parents and others of a black cat that actually appeared right on the table as he set down the food.

It seemed curious as to what Rafe had bought and was carefully sniffing around the bags as if it was inspecting the food itself.

“Shadow! No.” You said sternly, hands waving him away. “Paws off the table.” You shoo’d him away. “He knows better than to be in the table. He just doesn’t care for the most part.”

Shadow then appeared by Rafe's feet, sniffing him, trying to gage if he liked Rafe or not. After what felt like an eternity to Rafe, he decided that Rafe was worthy of his attention, so he plopped himself down in front of Rafe, wanting Rafe to pet him.

Rafe smiled that its antics. “Cute cat.”

You carefully picked Shadow up and he meowed in protest. You didn't want him to accidentally eat any food off the table, so you put him in your room just to be safe.

"Be good Shadow." You said like a stern mother lecturing a child. Shadow just blinked before climbing up to your bed and curling himself up into a ball.

When you came back to the dinning room, Rafe had already cleaned and set everything up for the the two of you.

"So what's inside?" You asked.

"Tacos." You raised an eyebrow, looking at him questionably, and he raised both his hands as if to defend himself. "Hey, I'm not all steak and potatoes, I know some pretty good eats here and there. Plus, I could tell you didn't love the last restaurant we went to, so I'm here to redeem myself."

"I didn't hate the place." You mumbled.

"Just the price tag." Rafe countered.

You didn't argue, instead you took a bite of the taco and immediately moaned. Rafe had been watching intently and he loosened up when he saw your reaction, and then began to eat his after you.

"I was actually starved. This was perfect." You said as you finished the last bite. You were now just sipping the drink Rafe had bought.

"Same. I actually haven't eaten anything all day."

"Rafe!" You stared at him wide-eyed, your caring instincts kicking in. "What happened?"

"It's nothing. Just had a lot to finish at work. That's all." He didn't want to bring up Ward.

"Was it because of me?" You casted your eyes down, and Rafe instantly felt like a weight had been pressed on his chest.

"No! Absolutely not. Kyle Richardson is an asshole, and he needed to be brought down to reality. I wouldn't have done anything different. He would have been dealt with sooner or later."

Rafe sighed. "It's just hard, with the expectations I get from others, I feel like I can't live up to them sometimes."

You didn't push but grabbed his hand, just like he did earlier in the day. Rafe found himself really liking the warmth emanating off your hands.

"I actually have to thank you for today." He continued and you looked up at him. “Your suggestions about what to get Heather. It worked, and now she wants me to surprise her for a date," He made air quotes with his hands.

You had let go of his hands by then. "I have no clue if she wants to go somewhere lowkey or something more high end."

You stared at his face and then cleared your throat. "That's...great." You tried to sound happy for him. "Um, Miss Hayworth likes to dine at exclusive places. The place you paid for last time would be perfect."

Rafe made a mental note of that. "Yeah, got it. Thanks."

An awkward silence engulfed the two of you, until you couldn't hold in a yawn. "Um, I think I'm gonna get ready for bed soon. I know I've already said this, but thank you for today." You gave him a small smile.

"I think I've overstayed my welcome. I'll take my leave now." He shuffled up from the dining seat table. He grabbed the wrappers and napkins, cleaning up the tiny mess you and him made during his short visit. "I'll text you later, yeah?"

"Yeah. Take care Rafe. Drive back safely." You walked him to your entrance and watched him enter his car before closing the door completely.

You'd felt like you were in a movie, and instead of being the main character, you were just an individual watching two leads slowly fall in love with each other. A bystander. You sighed and walked to your bedroom and let Shadow strut out and rub himself on you.

You then watched as he placed himself down in front of you and tilt his head, as if he was asking what had happened while he in the other room.

"Oh, Shadow. You're still the number one guy in my heart." You said jokingly, but he seemed to like that answer as he launched himself right into your arms. Your day had been a bit of a rollercoaster, so you were going to let yourself sleep it off before resetting for the next day.

However, as you laid in bed, you tried not to think of Rafe, but that was harder said than done. The way he handled Kyle stayed behind to care for you had set the butterflies in motion inside your stomach. Then the recent visit to bring dinner had made him wedge into your mind subconsciously.

Rafe was making it difficult for you to move on from your unrequited feelings, even if he was doing it unknowingly.

You sighed and tried to keep your eyes shut. You began using your back up plan of counting sheep to make yourself sleepy and slowly but surely, you had fallen into a deep slumber, dreaming of the person your were trying to forget.

Taglist: @lolabunnyworldss @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @toomanywhitelies @wuluhwuhmaster @maybankslover @ivy-34

[my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction]

L Lawliet x Reader pt. 17: the Billionaire and the Prostitute

Guys, this took so much effort not to post on Monday, I'm glad I'm in a groove writing this, but I also have the patience of a toddler 😭 Anyway, welcome to chapter 17, this one's a tad longer :)

"Mhm...yeah...no yeah, you can bring him! Sure, it'll be at a club anyway."

You laid on your stomach, horizontal on the bed, while the calico kitten curled on your back. You had a little feather toy in your hand, a stick connected to a line that held a jingling feather ball, which you teased the curly cat with.

You suppose you should be using their real names, now that they had names: Romeo and Juliet.

Cute, wasn't it? You didn't really use them though, they really just had a variety of nicknames:

for Juliet - Jules, Missy, girl, cat, chunk, brat, and whatever else comes to mind whenever she's doing thing's she's not supposed to.

For Romeo: sir, silly, dumb-dumb, beanbag, curly, buttface, and whatever else comes to mind when he's staring off into space like he knows something you don't.

Anyway, Romeo didn't do much with the toy. He watched it, lazily swatted at it every now and then, but for some strange reason he meowed insistently when you stopped.

it was a little annoying when you were trying to make plans for your birthday. It was soon, almost too soon, you can't believe you're already 22. You wondered when L's next birthday was...

Stop, this wasn't about him. He's him, you're you, you don't care about him or his birthdays.

You were going to have the best birthday since...since a while! Looking as good as ever, going to the most expensive club in the area, getting absolutely wasted, out stripping the strippers. Y'know. Classy.

Currently, you were inviting everyone you know. Friends from your past job, friends from your current job, exes of exes, anyone. You'd even rented out a VIP room, the kind celebrities use to do coke off waitresses' tits. Now you could do coke off a watress' tit, if you were so inclined.

you rolled over, forcing Jules to hop onto the ground. She immediately attacked Romeo, playfully biting at his face in a way that made him lean to one side, away from her relentless teeth.

"Yep...bye!"

One more off the list. You told everyone to bring whoever they wanted, as long as they were decent enough. Hopefully, you could have enough to rent out the whole club.

You snapped in Jules' face, wanting her to unlatch, but she paid you no mind. Brat.

As a means of escape, Romeo hopped onto the bed, and retreated into the pillows. Juliet found some other toy to occupy her.

As the cat commotion finally ends, you get a call. It was L, of course.

"What's up?"

"Your birthday is in one week."

"It is," you nod.

He opens his mouth to speak again, but you interrupt him.

"I'd need next weekend off, for my party. Just in case you were thinking of calling me in."

That made sense. Why wouldn't you want that? "Yes, of course."

"What'd you call me about?"

"I...wanted to know if you'd like anything in particular."

He was lying. You wouldn't call him out on it, but you had a good idea on what it was about.

"No. You don't have to get me anything."

"That was all. Have a good evening, (Y/n)."

"Yeah, thanks..." you pause. "You too."

You hang up.

All of this stuff, the house and the car, the big birthday bash, the cats: it was all because of him, in a way. At first, you condemned him for putting you in such a situation, like he forced you to do what he said. But, it really wasn't by force. Sure, you made the decision out of desperation, but it wasn't his fault. He offered you something amazing, and for little in return, you took it. It filled you with guilt, to deny him the love he showered you in, but after a few weeks of this, you found the guilt only grew when you iced him out.

This wealth and new quality of life gave you the chance to do something. You had your faults, you knew, and before you convinced yourself it was just how you had to be. But that wasn't the case. You could be a better person, nothing was stopping you. And you would start with being kinder to your benefactor.

You would be polite. Good to him, even. Wishing him a good evening was the olive branch that would begin that.

You look over at Romeo. He's watching a spec of dust with incredible attention.

Sweet boy.

You look to Juliet. She's hissing and jumping at her own shadow.

You'd need a cat-sitter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it was raining.

Your hair, previously stiff with hair product, clung to your face. Your mascara ran rivers down your cheeks.

How did it happen like this? How did your birthday go to complete shit?

You remember doing your second shot of tequila, cheering and clapping with your friends while swaths of people danced and talked. Your favorite songs were playing. Plus ones of plus ones wished you a happy birthday, conveniently leaving out your name because they couldn't remember it.

It was perfect.

It was perfect, until you spotted an ex.

"Who invited him," you shouted over the music, pointing to the 33ish man chatting up a younger girl.

Your friends all looked at each other, shaking their heads, either oblivious or in denial.

You were going to confront him.

You stood, took another shot, and marched over. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"What!?"

"What the hell are you doing here!?"

"I was invited...you look good!"

"Don't talk to me like that, I don't want to see you again!"

"Look, I'm sorry about how it ended!"

You paused. He never apologized before. You were a little too tipsy to have discernment.

So you spent the better half of an hour catching up. He really did seem better.

You left him because he cheated on you. His argument was that because of your job, you did the exact same thing, but he was rescinding that sentiment now. He seemed so sincere.

He was the reason you stopped dating older guys. The guy after him was why you stopped dating all together. Now, given your situation with L, you figured it was best if it stayed that way, at least until you've gotten more comfortable with the arrangement. But you were ok with being friends again.

He, apparently, wasn't.

He had a few drinks, and while you were in the middle of laughing at a stupid joke, he leaned in to kiss you.

"Woah, hey, what're you doing?!"

"What do you mean?!"

"I just want to be friends, I'm not-!"

"What the hell?!"

He started going on and on about how you led him on, about how you can't just walk up dressed like that without expecting something, about how he's always thought you were such a whore.

He leaned in for another kiss, and you jumped away. This time, he grabbed you.

It wasn't overtly sexual, it wasn't particularly hard, but it was scary. It was dangerous.

You didn't even think, you slapped him clean across the face.

He released you just enough, a sliver of freedom, and you bolted before he had an even bigger reaction.

It took pushing, shoving, and stepping in undisclosed substances to get to the door. You burst out, into the rainy night. The drops were fat, heavy, falling into little rivers and puddles. You needed a moment to cool off.

You stood out there, five, ten, fifteen minutes. You were wet, but nobody would judge you. When you turned around to re-enter, the door didn't budge.

You pushed it harder. It yanked against the latch.

It locked automatically.

So here you were, locked out of your own party. Thankfully, you had your purse in hand, so nobody could steal it.

What now?

You sat on the pavement and cried for a little while. That was nice enough. The rain never cleared, but it did get heavier. Sharp, slanted, like cursive on paper.

The music blared. The party went on without you. Nobody even noticed you were missing, because of course they didn't. You weren't drunk enough for this.

You opened your purse, and took out your phone. Who was there to call? Everyone was inside. Everyone, except...

God, this was embarrassing.

You dialed his number. He picked up as quick as always.

"Hello, (Y/n). Are you enjoying your party?"

"I need you to pick me up."

He could hear the nasal tone of your voice. You were crying.

"I'm on my way."

There were no questions. He hung up.

it took less than 10 minutes for the limo to breeze through, stopping right by the curb you sat on. The front passenger door opened. You were met with the sight of L, stepping out of his crouch to meet you halfway. Rain ran through his hair, across his face, wetting his shirt beyond use.

"You didn't have to get out," you sniff, wiping your eyes. The mascara streaked further, across your cheek.

"I wanted to open your door. I'll be sitting in the back with you."

He closes the front door, and slides the back door open. You don't ask anything else, and bumble into one of the many seats. They had seat warmers, a mini-fridge, a small TV. Even a divider between the back and the driver's seat, so it was like its own room. Fancy.

He gets in again, and sits in the seat across from you. As the car jumps to a start, he opens the mini-fridge and offers you a can of something.

Your cold, shakey hand takes it. It's green tea. You guzzle it down in one go. He says nothing, only watches you as if you're the most important thing in the world.

"What," you grumble.

"...what happened," he asks.

You want to give him some rude, biting remark...but he's so gentle. So quiet. You know he only wants to help.

So you told him, with as little detail as possible, what happened.

He's silent for a long stretch after.

"Would you..."

L is a man with few tells. His pokerface is impeccable. His words are smooth and dulcet. His mannerisms are little more than aloof.

But when you look at him, with those sweet, wet eyes, with those lashes sweeping across your cheeks as you blink back frustration and tears...he swallows. He swallows hard as he considers his own offer. As he rolls the words around on his tongue like marbles bumping against his teeth in an effort to escape.

"Would you like company?"

You open your mouth to say no. You wanted to go home and shower, to cry into your mattress and sleep through every single birthday for the rest of your life.

But you find you sleep best in his bed. By his side. It makes you sick to think about, but you were just barely drunk enough to lower the walls of your stubborn nature.

"Fine. Take me to your place."

He reaches into his pocket, and plucks out an earpiece. When he switches it on, he wastes no time bringing it to his lips, and giving a polite order to navigate to the hotel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He let you shower, first. When you came out of the bathroom, clean and with a clearer head, you snooped around his closet. You found a few sundresses hanging, in several different colors. They were cute, but not what you needed right now.

You needed something comfortable. Something you could lounge in that wasn't pretty or sexy...something like...

L has never stared so hard at anyone else in his entire life. To see you, the object of his deepest affections, clad in a pair of panties loosely covered by one of his own shirts...it was transcendent. He watched as you padded over to the couch he sat on, as you settled beside him with a tired, worn out pout.

"You don't mind, do you?"

He slowly shakes his head. "Not at all."

You figured he wouldn't. While his tone and expression were mild-mannered, that fire in his eyes showed just how effective the look was.

Not that you wanted that. You just needed something comfortable.

He gnaws on his thumbnail, drinking you in one last time, before suddenly standing and walking off.

"Goodbye, then," you scoff. Rude.

He returns with a box.

Again?!

Once he settles back down, he pushes the flat, velvety container into your hands. "I planned on giving it to you tomorrow."

You look to him, and he nods in encouragement.

with steady caution, you open the box.

It was most intricate gold chain you've ever seen, like the tendrils of a vine. Your birthstone hung in the center, a droplet of glittering beauty.

In the negative space of the box sat a pair of matching earrings, designed to dangle elegantly with gem details as stand-out as the necklace.

"Oh, L..."

"I realize my last gifts were fairly selfish. I hope these make up for it."

Your fingertips glide across the gems, admiring the color and quality. "You didn't have to..."

"I wanted to. Would you like to wear them?"

You chew on your lip, contemplative. Were you classy enough to deserve these?

You slowly nod, and take the earrings to put them on yourself.

He gently reclaims the box from you, and takes the necklace out of the safety of its containment.

L waits patiently for you to finish exchanging your earrings. The moment your done, he opens the clasp of the necklace with his lithe fingers in preparation.

"Turn around for me, please."

You shift on the couch, turning your back to him as you tuck your calves beneath your thighs.

You can feel L's breath ghost over your skin, right before the cool metal settles on the dip of your clavicle.

"Y'know, a bottle of tequila would have been just as appreciated," you tease.

"That can be arranged as well," he murmurs. You can tell he's playing into your joke, the hint of amusement in his voice enough to bring a warmth to your belly.

His knuckles graze your neck, just as he pulls back. You turn back around, and a slight smile pulls at his lips. "It suites you well."

You tilt your head down to look at it, your hand coming to pet at the item. "It is beautiful," you sigh. "You didn't spend a fortune on this or anything, did you?"

He keeps his eyes locked firmly on the jewelery. "I spent what was necessary."

You frown. "You don't have to do stuff like this, all I want for my birthday is to...have some fun. I appreciate it, really, but don't go out of your way for me."

His gaze is sharp as it returns to yours. "I care for you, deeply. Nothing is too far out of my way."

You wince. He really did love you. It was so frustrating, why couldn't he just...use you? Why couldn't he just screw you and be done with it?

"L...can we not talk about this? I don't..." I don't want to have to tell you how I feel again.

He looks to one eye, then the other. "Very well. It's your birthday. What would you like to do?"

"I don't know...honestly? I just want to get drunk. But it's kind of sad getting drunk alone, and you're not the drinking type."

He didn't have to tell you for you to know, he was in no way a drinker. In fact, he's never even had alcohol.

"This is how you want to spend your birthday?"

"Well how do you spend your birthday?"

He looks up in thought. "Most recently...having sex."

You blink. "Like...with someone else?" You don't care. Of course you don't.

"No. With you."

Oh. What?

"What?"

"On my last birthday, you happened to come over."

"When?"

"October 31st."

"Your birthday is on halloween??"

"Yes."

Of course it is.

He continues, thoughtful: "It was nice. I plan on making it a sort of tradition, if that's alright with you."

You, for some odd reason, can feel your face tingle with heat. "It's your time, I don't care...a-anyway, sex is just as indulgent as drinking is."

"I disagree. However...okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay. I'll drink with you. As I said, nothing is too far out of my way for you."

"Oh. Are you sure?"

"Yes. What do you recommend I start with?"

You laugh. Once again, you know more about something than him. He seemed to know everything other than how to loosen up.

"Well...you like sweet things, so maybe a cocktail. It'll help hide the taste of the alcohol."

"What will you drink?"

"I'll probably do some shots."

He nods slowly. "Shots of tequila?"

"Yep. You might want to get a daiquiri, it's the sweetest one I can think of now."

He picks up the landline, and gives his orders.

"We could probably play a drinking game, to make things more interesting. I take a shot, you take a sip of your daiquiri."

"I don't see why not. What game?"

"Hm...what about..." you look to the table. It's littered with candies and treats, like always. "Okay, how about the poison game?"

"The poison game?"

"Yeah, it's easy. Basically, you take some sweets, like these-" you pick up a bowl of little chocolates, and grab a small handful- "spread them out, and pick one without the other person knowing which one you picked. That one is 'poison', and if the other person takes it, they have to take a shot...or a sip of their daiquiri. You take turns picking until both of you take the one the other person designated as 'poison.'"

He nods along, following your instructions. By the time you're done explaining, your supplies are already here.

L answers the door, whispers something to Watari, and takes the tray. It's equipped with a bottle of tequila, shot glasses, lime, salt, and a pitcher with three or four servings worth of daiquiris.

He sets the tray down, pours his glass, and examines the liquid. "Daiquiris are usually made with white rum," he comments.

"Usually," you shrug, pouring yourself a shot. "Ready?"

He nods, and glances at the rows of mini chocolates. "I've picked one."

"Me too. You go first."

He makes a careless move, taking one on the far right. There was no point in thinking it through, it'll end the same no matter what.

"Ha! That was mine," you laugh, shocked at how soon he took it. "Take a sip."

He sticks a twisty straw into the drink (adorable, by the way,) and takes a gulp. His nose immediately crinkles, and he sputters out a cough. "You enjoy this?"

You smile. "You'll get used to it."

And he did, eventually. After running out of the first bowl of candy, and being delivered the second (what he whispered to Watari for), you were both wasted. It took you way too many shots, and him...two daiquiris. Poor thing.

As his inhibitions dropped, he slowly unfolded, until he was sitting as any normal person would. Leaned back, relaxed even. His face was red, and his eyes were glazed.

"This is...is incredibly..." he couldn't think of the word he was looking for.

You laughed at how he slurred. "Stupid?"

"Mh...stupid," he agrees.

You burst into a round of uncontrollable laughter, hugging your sides and leaning on him for support. It wasn't that funny, but it really got you good.

"You laugh at so many little things...I think it's beautiful..." he mumbles, pressing his face into the top of your head.

"Ugh, shut up....so annoying when you say stuff like that," you whine.

"Izz true. I love you, vvvvery much..."

You were laid on your side now, but you pulled your head back from him to look up. "Know what's funny," you ask, barely able to keep yourself together.

"What?"

"I don't!"

Another round of laughter.

He doesn't laugh, he only pouts. "I'll still love you...Mn...I don't like to be drunk...."

You finally calm down, and pull yourself up by the backing of the couch. "Imma bitch," you sigh. "I'm sucha bitch..."

"I'd...I'd die for you...I've done many things for you...to have you...you'll kill me one day..."

You bring an uncoordinated hand to his face, and brush some of his hair away, not hearing a word he says.

His gaze floats from your eyes, to your cheeks, to your lips. His arms raise from his sides, before jutting out to hold your waist with awkward, gangly movement, like he was a puppet on strings. His lips crash onto yours and you immediately lean into it, your hands grabbing at his hair and neck.

"You're so lucky your dick is so pretty," you slur.

"Pretty?"

"Mm...I'm not s'posed to tell you this..."

He leans in.

You whisper shout: "But you're the best I've ever had."

He smiles, a raw, genuine smile, and kisses you again.

"You smell like you," he groans, violently burying his face in your neck, taking in a big whiff. "Being drunk is..."

"Stupid?"

"Stupid..."

You both fall backward, your head crashing onto the armrest. "Owww..." you grumble.

"I ap -hic- apologize..." he sighs. He slips his hand between your head and the wood frame of the couch.

"Kiss me 'gain."

He swallows.

Your mouths crash, nothing but tongue and teeth, need and want, heat and alcohol.

He humps your calf, shifting back and forth for the friction, all the while muttering into your mouth. "It's odd...you get me erect...so much...you're so tight...I think about you when..."

If you were sober, you'd remark about how he never made such vulgar comments like this before. About how his words made you slick with fervent need, about how your panties were nearly soaked through.

"In my clothes...on purpose...unless..."

"Take me out've em."

He doesn't have to hear it twice. His hands eagerly rip at the fabric, yanking the shirt over your head.

"No bra. Who was this for," he muses.

You know he's not actually asking you when his clumsy hand find your breasts, gripping the plump flesh.

"Just 'cause I can. Also I took it off in your room." Even if he wasn't asking, you still wanted to answer.

"Mmph." His mouth was around your boob now, taking as much as possible before pulling back to suck and lap at your nipple.

"You're so weird," you giggle, settling your hand in his hair.

"I love you."

"Stop it." you swat at the side of his head.

His hand ghosts down your side, searching for the elastic of your underwear. The second he finds it, he yanks them down.

"Take me to the bedroom," you whine.

He immediately stands, and pulls you up by the wrist. You stumble over each other, leaning against one another for support, and the second you get to the bedroom, you crash to the mattress.

L pauses by the edge to take his own clothes off, nearly getting stuck in his shirt and tripping over his pants in the process. He doesn't even bother with his boxers.

"You look -hic- delicious..." he mumbles, clambering into bed and nuzzling into your neck. He locks his lips to your shoulder, sucking the flesh purple.

You didn't stop him. There was no reason to. He was your only client, there was no worry about someone else spotting it and feeling disgusted.

He pulls back with a pop, and thumbs over the mark. "You taste as good as you look," he slurs.

"You're like, obsessed with me," you tease.

"Yes," he nods.

"Keep going."

He buries his face in your chest, breathing in the deep scent of your skin as his hands pet straight lines down your sides. He trails wet, needy kisses down your ribs, across your stomach, until he reaches your hips. He doesn't think, he doesn't ruminate, not like usual. He just...does.

He pushes his face into your folds, lapping a sloppy track from your entrance to your clit.

Your moans are unrestricted, hot and heavy in his ears as he all but makes out with the bundle of nerves at the top of what he considered the ambrosia of the gods.

"Mn...oh...L..."

L hooks his arms around your thighs, wanting you even closer. He had opened his mouth as far as it would go, slipping his tongue inside and prodding around until he found that sweet spot. His nose pressed at your clit, slick with you, just like the rest of his face.

The noises he made at his own fruitless attempts to lick you clean were nothing short of animalistic, snarling and groaning and drunk on more than rum.

"Fuck! Oh, fuck...yes!"

As if on cue, the phone in your purse rang just to ruin the moment. You slap around at the nightstand, searching for it.

L glances up, just long enough to watch you flip your phone open. He pulls back, but you shove him right back in.

"Don't stop," you command, and even with that bratty tone, he can't help but comply.

"Myeah?"

Music blared from the other end.

"Where are you?! Isslike two inna...what?! What?!?!"

your friend was talking to someone else.

"What ever! But yeah...where are you?!"

"I'm with a guy," you laugh. Your eyes meet his, long enough for him to watch you squeal as he slurps up the juices that coat your swollen clit.

"A guy?! D'you leave with...fuck, whazzis name...Minato!?"

"Mno."

L is diligent enough to keep his head down, but jealous enough to slow at the mention of someone else. Your phone was on speaker, unbeknownst to you. Not like you'd care anyway.

"This guy's differen'."

He looks up at you, eyes hazed with lust, pupils blown. You grab the hair at the crown of his head, and tug. He unlatches from your cunt, his tongue slipping lazily from his mouth as you hold him.

"This guy does wha'ever I wan' him to."

You release him, and with no word of argument, he returns to his task of pleasing you until you go numb.

"Okay, well good luck doin'-" you moan as he flicks his tongue just right- "whatever it is you're doing! You coming back?!"

"Nuh-uh."

You don't wait for a response. You only snap your phone shut, and roll your head back to focus on his mouth.

his tongue reaching incredible depth inside of you...before pulling out to lazily swirl around your clit...right back inside...

Your hips buck. He noses you again. You cry out.

"Cum on my face..."

His words are worthless with how deep his tongue is, unintelligible beyond understanding. But the vibration of his voice makes your legs shake, and merits the reaction he wanted.

"L! Yes!"

You cry out, gripping his hair as if he would rip away right in the middle of your orgasm.

he lets you grind against his face, he doesn't dare move until you lower your hips back to the comforter of the bed. He sits upright, panting like air was in short supply, his face spattered and drenched with the clear liquid of your arousal.

"Gimme a kiss."

He falls forward, first wiping his face on your chest, then leaning in to kiss you as sloppy as he felt.

You can feel him press against your calf again...except this time, he was wet too. He came right in his boxers, without you realizing. You're not even sure if he realized.

"You're so pathetic," you mock.

He mouthes at your jawline. "Mmn...I wanna be -hic- inside..."

In one ear, out the other.

You let him sit back. In one fluid motion, he removes his boxers, his cock bobbing as it's released. The tip is just as pink and hungry as his face.

"I recall you being fffflexible..."

His left hand grasps your ankle. The right traces invisible shapes on the inner thigh of your other leg.

"Mhm."

To your suprise, he pushes your leg back, over your head until your toes graze the headboard. The leg he previously traced was pushed into the mattress. You were completely open, the odd position maintained with an incredible amount of comfort. Incredible to him, at least.

"So you are..."

"I'm cold," you grumble. His eyes traverse down your body, taking a pitstop at your hickey, and ending at your glistening folds. The light hit it so pretty.

He hesitantly releases your thigh to grasp his length, pleasantly surprised to see you maintain the spread as he pumps his cock a few times. A temporary sedative, when he needed something so much tighter than his own fingers.

You peered over the curve of your breasts, watching him watch you. He can't seem to look away from your cunt, not as he pressed the tip to your entrance, not as he sunk deeper into your canal, not as the head sat snug against your cervix. He let out a low moan, deep in his throat.

"Oh, L," you groan.

He wavered, before collapsing over you. One elbow propped him up, while the other hand grasped your wrist to hold you down. Once he was finally comfortable, he began to rock into you.

It was as if it were his first time again. Slow, all the way in and all the way out, this time because his hips couldn't catch up with his brain. With the way you were contorted, you could feel him deep, feel him pressing against your organs and poking your tummy from the inside.

The speed began to build up, faster and faster, until it was a rhythm of wet slapping and worshipful moaning. He brought his face down to your ear, nipping and sucking at the skin beneath.

He released the most desperate, needy whimpers and moans, nothing like when he was sober.

"Mnh...! Oh...(y/n)...! Mmmnph..."

His sounds grew in volume, to which he buried his face in your neck to dull them.

You weren't safe either, your inebriated state made you loud and unabashed, violent as you clawed at his back, wanton as you gyrated your hips for as much friction as possible.

Two absolute animals, ravaging each other like you were trying to repopulate.

"Fuck...! Fuck! Fuck!!!!"

You spasmed beneath him, twisting the sheets and rocking the backboard with the foot that pressed against it.

He didn't let up, he wasn't stopping until he was spent. He wasn't wasting this ample opportunity, even with the cloud of alcohol he knew there would never be another chance to hear you scream like this.

"L! 's too much," you whine, your body now limp.

"Haah...hmh..."

No words, just hungry panting and whining.

You felt yourself pulse around him, just as hard as the pulsing of your skin after he littered it with even more bruises. You didn't know when, but he switched to the other side of your neck, to mark even more skin.

He was close, you knew he was because his volume was growing with every deep thrust.

"(Y/n)...(Y/n)...mhn, (Y/n)..."

Your name over and over, like a mantra, like if he stopped he'd never cum again.

He shudders as his release crashes over him, thin white semen squirting all over your walls as he ruts into you, shoving it in like he wanted you pregnant.

He relaxes, his head rolling forward to rest on your chest. "I love you..."

"Shut up..." you whine.

"Kiss?"

You nod, and he drags his face up to yours, planting a wet kiss on the side of your mouth.

"Eat me out 'gain..."

He takes a deep breath, regains his bearings, and travels south.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, everything hurt.

Your head was pounding through your skull, the sun peaking through the blinds antagonizing the nausea that lined your stomach. Every single joint was on absolute fire, after going hours in multiple odd positions. Your throat hurt from what you imagine must have been the best head of L's life, and your thighs were littered in bite marks from what you imagine must have been the best head of your life. He never bit you when he was sober.

You feel around the bed, finding L's smooth skin in the process. He was sound asleep, unaware of the torture that would await him.

You'd let him sleep, it was probably best to give him as much time as possible.

Then, he grabbed your wrist.

Your touching had woken him up. He stretched, each limb creaking and groaning. His hand flies to his head almost immediately, rubbing at the temple.

"Morning sunshine," you mutter, a sly smile managing to crack through the intense pain you felt.

He gives you a withering glare. Did his dark circles get even darker?

"Getting drunk is not worth...this," he remarks. His voice was worn down to gravel, deeper and thicker.

You turn onto your back, and stare at the ceiling. "Hey, you're a super-genius or something. Do you remember anything we did?"

He makes an attempt to sit up, but immediately slides back down. He wasn't going anywhere. "...no."

He looks down at himself. There's a trail of weak, pinkish hickeys, few and far between that lead to his hips. "If I were to make an educated guess..."

"I can guess that."

He takes cursory glance around. "It seems we...traveled."

"Traveled?"

"The mirror, the dresser, and the shower, at least."

You look around too. The standing mirror was obvious, given the dried cum that stained the bottom. The dresser had bite marks in the wood, but the shower...

"Why the shower?"

He rubs his eyes. "The towels." He didn't want to be talking.

You look to the floor, and see two slightly damp towels strewn about.

"Smart."

"Mm." He grabs at the nightstand, and points a small black remote at the window. The curtains slowly shift, until the room is blackout dark.

"You're welcome to stay, however...I'm sleeping this off."

He flips over, and squeezes his eyes shut. You sigh, and settle back under the covers. Might as well stay.

When you wake up again, three hours have passed, and the hang over has faded just enough for you to stand. You were tucked against L's chest, which you quickly removed yourself from to go get water or some other lame excuse. He stirs as you rise, groaning in pain.

You return a few moments later, with two waters.

"Here, you'll need it."

He was sat up now, and with a heavy, aching hand, takes the glass of liquid. "Thank you."

You sit back down on the bed. "It's whatever. Are you seriously this fucked over two daiquiris?"

"I don't have the same amount of tolerance as you do," he reminds.

You lean back on the headboard, only to feel a sharp pinching in your back. "Ow," you scoff, pulling back.

The wood beneath you was splintered, and upon closer inspection, the wall where the headboard hit was cracked beyond belief. "Christ...how much is that gonna be to fix?"

"You are becoming a growing expense," he says. He was only teasing you, but you almost bit back with something that would surely get you feeling guilty later.

"Yeah, yeah," you sigh, taking another sip of water.

Then, it hit you.

"The cats! I should get back." you scramble to your feet, in search of clothes.

"How are they?"

"Fine, growing like cats do." You slip into the closet.

"Did you find names for them?"

"Romeo and Juliet," you call.

"How creative," he hums.

You emerge, barely dressed in one of the sundresses he purchased you. "Very funny. Where's my purse?"

He looks to the nightstand, and you grab it. "Bye!"

"Goodbye. I love you."

"Stop saying that!"

You rush out the door, long gone. He smiled to himself.

The neckline of that dress really complimented that ring of pretty hickeys. The perfect frame for your necklace.

[talesofesther]

what once was mine | ch 2

Loki x Reader

Series Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.

A/N: I was kinda putting off writing this chapter because I was forced to write a scene I don't like to relive lol. But anyway, it's here, and I hope you like it. <3

Masterlist | Read ch 1 here

When you lost Loki, you didn't have time to grieve. The whole universe was being threatened, there was no time for tears.

It all had happened so fast. One minute Loki stood between you and Thanos, his hand holding yours and keeping you away from harm; and the next, Thor was dragging you away from the body of the person you loved the most, while you screamed until your throat burned.

And then you lost, again; half of the universe turned to dust. It was only one year later that a strange man came knocking at the compound's door with a solution, a hope. But not for you. After all, Loki wasn't one of the blipped ones, though a part of you wished he had been.

In the end, you won the war, and you brought everyone back; but you lost a piece of yourself.

You felt numb, hollow. Now, looking down at your hands, under the cold running water of the bathroom sink, you could see red even when it wasn't there. It stuck on your skin and under your fingernails. For the tenth time this week, you felt as if there were cotton balls in your throat and you couldn't breathe.

The sight was burned into the back of your mind, returning each night to haunt your nightmares. His bloodshot eyes, bright yet so lifeless; his hand still outstretched on the grounds of New Asgard when he'd last reached for you; dried tear tracks on his cheeks when he realized the inevitable; the crimson red blood dripping from his nose and mouth. That was the last image you had of your Loki, as you screamed—you couldn't even recall what exactly you had been screaming—and thrashed against Thor's strong hold on your body, dragging you away so you wouldn't meet the same fate.

You splashed water onto your face, making it hide your tears even though you could still taste the salt in between your sobs.

It's been over a year, and the pain has yet to subside. You've been living on autopilot since the last battle, helping rebuild and only eating enough to keep you going, barely speaking to anyone. There was a hole in your chest that you couldn't fill, a part of your heart that stopped beating the same day that his did. The year following The Snap had gone by in a blur, with everyone working incessantly trying to find a way to undo what happened, and part of you had a hope that you'd be able to bring Loki back as well; but when the solution was found, and he didn't come back, that last bit of hope was snuffed out like a candle, leaving you in the darkness.

People would look at you funny when you walked the hallways of the Avengers compound, you didn't know if it was because of the evident scar running from your forehead to the beginning of your left eyebrow, or because of the dark circles under your eyes.

You finally reached the kitchen and grabbed a mug with a sigh going past your lips. Steadily, you poured yourself some black coffee. Was it your second, or third mug of the day? You weren't sure.

"You drink a few more of those, it'll soon be running through your veins."

Thor's voice made you close your eyes, your back still turned to him. Despite loving the guy, you really didn't feel like talking right now. You brought the mug to your lips and took a generous sip before facing him.

"Here's hoping." You tried smiling, but it came more like a grimace.

A strong hand found your shoulder and squeezed. "Tony says he's worried about you... everyone is," Thor said quietly, trying to catch a glimpse of your eyes with his own.

You bit onto your lower lip, nearly drawing blood. When you looked up at Thor, you could see a reflection of your own pain in his kind eyes. "I just wish I could see him again. Just one last time." You shrugged weakly, watching as your vision turned blurry yet again.

In the same beat, Thor pulled you to him. His chin came to rest on top of your head as he hugged you tightly. "Yeah, me too," he whispered. "Me too."

It was on this same night that you woke up yet again covered in cold sweat and with a scream lingering on your tongue. Each beating of your heart against your ribs was a punch. The last image you had of him burned behind your eyes.

You got up and walked to your bedroom door, hands shaking when you turned the knob and when you filled a glass with water.

When you lost Loki, there was no time for a goodbye, there was no time for you to lay a last kiss on his forehead and promise to find him again in another lifetime. He was taken from you—abruptly, and without remorse—leaving behind a gash on your heart; an open wound that still bled.

Maybe that's why, on this same night, you made your way to Tony's lab, grabbed one of the few remaining pym particles, and pulled yourself through time.

Just one last time. You had to see him just one last time. You had to say goodbye, and make a promise.

The TVA found you before you found Loki. You never got back to your timeline.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 3 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

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[papasbaseball]

The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 3

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Teen (Rating to Increase)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,306 of 7,390

Start | Prev | Next

AO3 Link

Being dealt with consists of yanking me from my bed, having my nightstand ransacked, and being plucked like a chicken down at the most expensive salon in Oz. After thorough torment and torture via wax strips, I get tossed into a room that I have never seen before but was on the same level as the Wizard's apartments. The better to keep an eye on me, I think.

The room is small but fit for perhaps a noblewoman staying a night or two at the palace: plenty fanciful with sage-papered walls but bare enough to discourage overstaying one's welcome. It consists of a small fireplace, a grand wardrobe that almost reaches the ceiling, a brass bed that is twice the width of my old one, and a vanity with a little note on top. I ignore the note, heading for the wardrobe. It's well past noon, and I'm sure there are still chores to be done. As much fun as this little excursion has been, I would like to eat dinner tonight.

The wardrobe pours out a scent of fresh citrus and I have to turn my head as my eyes and lips pucker. As the burst of cleanliness subsides, I go through the wardrobe. There is an embroidered green floor-length dress, some clothes that are suited for summers that are too hot, and some risque lingerie that makes me slam the doors closed with a wooden clatter. This room was meant for a noble lady, but I didn't think that they would have stuck me into one that was already occupied. Obviously, there has been a mistake.

When they had stuffed me in here, they hadn't given me any instructions and refused to answer any of my questions. The only answer I was able to get out of them was “I am not able to share that with you”. I open the door to see if I can find some help and am met with two palace guards who bark some threats that cause me to stumble back into the room. I shut the door again. There's a thick metallic slotting, and when I go to try the handle, it doesn't budge, instead rattling in futility.

My lip curls and I bear my teeth. I have to fight the urge to slam my balled-up fists on the door and scream obscenities, but I know they'd probably just come in and hit me over the head with the end of one of their swords or do something worse to get me to shut up. The Royal Palace guards were not exactly known for their kindness and compassion. I add “intelligence” to their not-list for refusing to even listen to the fact that I am occupying someone else's room.

Making a closer assessment of the space, I look for any potential doors that might have been missed. There is a bathroom door with a peacock carved into it, but nothing else of note. The only other exit is a window. I approach the paned glass, flipping the latch, and am met with a dizzying drop. From up here, the stretched-out cotton balls that make up the clouds wrap around the jeweled spirals of the royal palace like heavenly moss.

"It's a long way down."

I yelp, my palms slipping from the window sill. The fear cuts up through me with the air as I fall, standing all of my hairs straight up. I'm jerked back and I tumble to the floor, scrambling back to the wardrobe as I try to catch my breath. The Wizard is there, standing in front of the window with a barely concealed smile on his face and a glint of amusement in his eyes. I want to scream as anger rips through me. It's not right to feel that way towards our Wonderful ruler, but I can't see what he finds funny about the fact that I almost just died. All I'm able to get out is a strangled cry that sounds nowhere near close to "thank you".

"Were you trying to get some fresh air?" he says, offering me a hand.

I try to still my face as I put my trembling hand in his. "I'm... I'm in the wrong room," I say.

"You were almost on the ground," he says, pulling me to my feet. I find myself way too close to him, too aware of the way the cotton of his shirt is rising and falling with each breath. My brush with death is causing me to lose my head because – even though I know he is all-powerful and a blessing to us all – I feel like the person standing before me is a normal man with a beating heart just like the rest of us lowly citizens of Oz.

I clear my throat, trying to get my voice back to normal. "I was trying to find a way out."

The Wizard laughs at this, deeply and heartily. Despite my trembling, I can't help but let out my own breathy laugh too. It was rather silly to think about escaping out of a window that was closer to the sun than the ground. My hands and arms are slowly getting some of their warmth back in them, only moments ago having felt so numb. I can't help but feel thankful that I can share this laugh with him, and that I am still alive.

Whether from the adrenaline or all of the laughing, my stomach grumbles, reminding me of the pressing issue that is earning my dinner. I'm breathless, but I tell him that I'm in the wrong room, again.

"What?" he says. "Is there something wrong with your room? I had it redecorated." He goes to the wardrobe, smoothing a hand over the glossy oak finish of the doors. "Used to be all cobwebs and dust in here." He swipes at the air as if to bring down one of these supposed cobwebs.

"Your Wonderfulness," I start, "There are some lady's clothes in here. I am sorry to say that I went through them, but I-"

"Did you think that you would find something good to steal?" he says.

My cheeks heat red at the reminder of yesterday. I throw open the wardrobe doors to show him the clothes that someone had obviously left here during their last summer. "See for yourself," I huff.

Those amber eyes lock onto mine, a warning about my tone, but they quickly land on the dresses as he swipes the hangers along the rod. "I don't see anything out of place."

"These are not my clothes," I protest. "How am I supposed to go about cleaning?"

His "Ah" is almost inaudible as he fishes all the way back into the wardrobe and pulls out the sea-green gossamer dress. It looks ridiculous, with great puffs of tulle across the breast and shoulders, the skirt clearly meant for summertime the way I can see through it. I snatch it from him and shove it back into the closet.

"That is someone else's!" I say, feeling guilty that we are still going through the poor woman's clothes.

"No," he says, "that is the price for stealing."

I scrunch my brow together, utterly confused. I did not steal any of the garments. I even showed them to him! They were all here, 100 percent accounted for, and they could be shipped back home to whatever unfortunate countess had left them here and was probably not missing them. And what did I care what they cost?

The recognition on my face as the wheels turn in my head turns his benevolent features into a hellish delight, a grin that seems too sharp, the way he stands a little too comfortably. He takes the dress back out and puts the hanger into my hand. "I almost thought I was going to have to beat some sense into you," he says.

There is a knock at the door. I shove the see-through dress back into the closet just in time for the guards to open the door. It’s Emily on the other side of the threshold.

"Ah, yes!" he says. "Come, come in!" He pushes past me to usher in the unsure girl. I can see that there are charcoal stains on her apron from today's work, her palms ruddy and cracked with a dried trickle of blood creeping up her wrist. My stomach twists in a knot, wondering if I might be able to take the window exit after all. Here I was complaining about everything, but hadn't I been excused from the hard work of washing the floor and changing sheets? Hadn't I been getting primped and preened like a fanciful cockatoo in the finest salon in Oz? Emily seems to have the same idea, her mouth set in a hard line that tells me she is not happy about having to pick up my slack.

"I got you your little friend to help out," he beams, pushing her forward. "Not with your work, of course, but for dressing." He goes back to the closet and pulls out the offensive dress for what seems like the billionth time today. When he's not looking, I think, I'm going to burn it. He hands the wisp of a garment to Emily.

"Our friend here is confused," he tells Emily, "she had a little run-in with the window. Just make sure that she gets dressed. When you're done, set some wood on the hearth for a fire for later."

Emily's face scrunched up at the last part, "Your Wonderfulness, I'm afraid I can’t do that. Receiving has put a limit on firewood for the whole palace. They said something about a shortage? I'm not sure."

His eyes narrow and he knits his brow. He says, "Just get her dressed and bring her to my room when you're done." He leaves the room, checking his pocket watch as he steps out the door.

When the door shuts, any politeness Emily might have had leaves her features. She tosses the dress onto the bed, looking for a zipper. "So how'd you do it?" she bites.

"What?" I ask.

"Did you sleep with him?"

The suggestion knocks the wind out of me and I can't help but scoff for breath.

"Is he any good in bed?" she asks.

"That is our Wizard you are talking about!" I protest in a whisper, afraid that he will hear us if I speak any louder. "I did not sleep with him. I was at the market with you and then-" I stop myself, not wanting to admit that I got arrested for stealing. That would surely go over well with her that somehow I got all of this for trying to shoplift. "and then I ended up here, okay? I don't know."

Emily finds the zipper and slides it down, taking the dress off the hanger. She comes over to me and sneers. "Come on, off with it. Or are you too lazy to undress yourself too?"

I hesitate, but the need to prove that I'm not some layabout wins over any shame I might have at her seeing me naked; we had shared a bed after all and she had seen me dress in the common room before. I pull off the simple but warm shift they had given me at the salon, and she slips the dress over my head. I have to stop myself from running my hands over the airy ruffles and puffs that cover my chest and shoulders. The fabric was softer than any of the sheets I'd ever put on the Wizard's bed, and so light that I wondered if it was woven from the room’s old cobwebs.

"I saw you getting hauled off yesterday. When I came back you were in bed. What happened?" Emily asks again.

"I can't say," I lie. "They told me it was a secret." No, that's not true either. But I can hear his wails so far removed from this little and polite room. The wails of the boy that Emily had pranked and bullied and set up and framed because he was good at his job. I don't know why she did it. We all got paid the same, but if I had to guess, I'd say that she was afraid that he was going to make her look bad. "I don't want to be here," I add as an afterthought.

"Yeah, right," she says, zipping the dress up. I yelp as the zipper pinches a bit of skin on my side. If my arms weren't turning into gooseflesh from the cold, they were now.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" I almost genuinely want to know. Maybe she had some ideas that could get me out of this dress and room, and back into the comfort of my own clothes and our shared bed.

"Try throwing yourself out the window again," she says, hanging the hanger back up. "At least you won't have to worry about anything after you go splat. Try to aim for the officer's balcony. I don't want to be called to scrape up your puffy remains." She flicks a puff on my shoulder to emphasize her point.

I slam the door to the wardrobe and she locks eyes with me. She walks to the door in silence, never breaking eye contact, and quickly knocks on it. "You're not the first dummy to try and sleep her way to head maid," she says. The door opens. "Come on, let's go. I need to take you to his room." I follow after her, the gown doing nothing to protect me from the cold hallways of the palace. "Plus, that dress is offensive to the eyes. I don’t want to look at it any longer than I have to."

[athenaswisdoms]

𝑩𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑪𝑻, 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑮

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆

benedict bridgerton fanfiction (more chapters coming soon)

MASTERLIST

"...and as for Mister Benedict Bridgerton, one cannot be so sure. He has spent the last two seasons focusing on his artistic talents, according to the Viscountess Bridgerton. As the beginning of the season is upon us, there are countless young ladies and anxious mamas on the market for a handsome, and not to mention wealthy, eligible man of status. I will be keen to see if the second-eldest Bridgerton brother will follow in his older brother's footsteps of marriage. Dear reader, you shall be hearing from me."

I roll my eyes, tossing the most recent issue of Lady Whistledown onto the sofa beside me. I knew it was a waste of time, but I'd rather read it than allow my anxiety over the coming evening's ball to come to the surface.

Tonight was Lady Danbury's annual Four Seasons Ball; the first of the season. Not to mention that this was my debut into the eyes of the public in hopes to find a husband. At least that's what my mama liked to say. I more thought of it as a missed opportunity. A failure to indulge in an education and adventure. As much as my parents denied it, the search for marriage was an auction, and I was about to be led by the neck right into the ring.

Still lost in my worries, my maid, Clara, opened the door to the drawing room, startling me slightly.

"Sorry, Miss. I didn't mean to disturb you," she said formally, "but we must start preparing you for the ball."

I walked towards the door, sighing just quietly enough so that my father, looking over his business papers, wouldn't notice my dread. As soon as the door shut behind us, I looked to Clara and swore under my breath.

"My goodness, get that language out now because you'll need to be on your most 'ladylike' behavior for tonight," Clara joked.

Clara was just a few years older than I and we had developed a closer bond than my parents were aware of, and she had been consistently reassuring me for weeks that everything would be fine and to look for the positives. As much as I tried, all I could see was Clara striving to live vicariously through me, as I know all she had ever wanted was to fall in love. If we could switch places, I'd do it in a heartbeat.

After slipping on my gown overtop the numerous undergarments of frills and laces, I sat down in front of my vanity as Clara began on my hair.

"Love, once you arrive and get through the first dance you will feel much more comfortable. I assure you that all of the other young ladies are just as nervous," Clara comforted, " - and I'm sure some of the men are too."

I laughed, "I know, but I wish my mama and papa would've waited another year for my debut. I know that they support my studies and yearning for adventure, but I can't see why I must do this now."

"They only care for you and want the best life for you. I'm sure there's a man out there that will support your desires."

I shook my head slightly, thinking about the housewife I would be destined to become through the values of the men I know of.

"In our dreams, Clara."

. . .

The constant bumps of the carriage were the only thing keeping me steadily awake on the way to the ball. A coachman assisted me down the steps and I was forced to take it all in - the arched doorways underneath pillars atop a grand balcony, patios on either side, and tall windows that allowed light from inside to peek out from between the curtains.

The inside was stunning. Decorated to perfection with cascading carnations and crystal champagne glasses that reflect the candle light to allow the drink an even more golden essence. Priceless diamonds were cast upon the collarbones of young ladies, sparkling almost as much as their excited expressions. A shudder of hope ran through me, but only for a moment. Until the ribbon of a dance card was slipped over my gloved wrist by my mother. I looked down at the empty name slots, already plotting ways to circumvent the inevitable small-talk and stiff dances to come. Before I could become serious about a plan, Lord Clarke began to approach.

Lord Clarke shook my father's hand, then greeted me with a curt bow. I stood still until my mother reminded me to curtsey with a swat on the back of my arm. His name was promptly added to my dance card, reminding me of my previous plotting that I was becoming more serious about by the second. As I scanned the room for unwanted approaching Lords as well as a way out, I noticed the Bridgertons walk in the door to the ballroom. The new Viscountess Kathani Bridgerton on the arm of Anthony, Colin Bridgerton scanning the area, Eloise Bridgerton looking all but disgusted, and Benedict. I had practically forgotten about his presence in the Bridgerton family whatsoever until my Lady Whistledown endeavor this morning. He gave the impression that he preferred being out of the ton's line of sight. He didn't look ill at ease in any way as his other eligible siblings did - but instead, curious. I watched Benedict a moment longer before the orchestra began to play and I realized I must face my most dreaded moment of the last month: dancing.

Being the first name on my dance card, Lorde Clarke approached me once again. It's not that Lord Clarke wasn't a decent man. In fact he was just fine with his wealthy lineage, strong business, and perfectly acceptable character. He just wasn't what I was looking for. In fact I wasn't entirely sure what I was looking for. As soon as the dance began, I had suddenly forgotten my last five years of dance lessons; stepping on toes, falling out of rhythm, missing cues - it was dreadful. As soon as the dance ended I apologized to Lord Clarke for my clumsiness. Feeling overwhelmed, I scanned for the nearest hallway and hurried in its direction.

The dimly lit hallway was peaceful and quiet aside from the muffled music and chatter from the ballroom. I plopped down on the floor anything but gracefully, crossing my legs underneath my dress. I allowed myself a few deep breaths as I craned my neck to stare up at the patterned ceiling, counting the grooves of the decoration. The sound of footsteps broke my concentration and I attempted to pick myself up from the floor unnoticed.

"Oh, I'm sorry," a voice started. "No need to get up."

My gaze pierced through the soft lighting and into a pair of apologetic green eyes.

Benedict Bridgerton.

Despite his insists I still rose to my feet.

"Mister Bridgerton - sorry I-, uhm-," I stuttered.

"No, no. I had no intention of disturbing your peace, Miss... Jackson, yes?" he questioned.

"Yes, that's right. I only needed to get away for a moment," I explained.

Benedict walked towards me.

"I was doing the same. Since my brother, Colin, and I are the last unmarried and eligible Bridgerton brothers, we are being all but harassed by every eager mother here."

I laughed a bit more comfortably than I should have, but Benedict didn't seem to mind.

"I know Lady Danbury's home quite well as her and my mother have been close friends my whole life. I like to come look at the art she's collected over the years," he explained.

I hadn't even noticed the grand paintings on the walls until Benedict pointed it out. He was now stood next to me looking up at a large depiction of a Trojan battle. He continued to speak as he admired the painting.

"It was ridiculously difficult to get away from my family for a moment. Social events aren't really my scene, but I go to please them."

"I've been trying to convince my parents to let me wait another year to be out, but clearly my efforts were in vain," I replied.

Benedict pulled his eyes away from the artwork to look at me, his eyes studying my face.

"Are you uninterested in marriage?"

"No!" I exclaimed, blushing at my unintentional volume. "Sorry. No it's not that, it's just that I would rather have more time to live a more adventurous life. I wish for spontaneity and excitement before I devote myself to tending to a household and a family."

"Is that what you believe marriage to be? A never ending chore?" This was not an accusation, Benedict was genuinely curious.

"Isn't it?"

Before he could answer, the opening latch of a door sounded in the near distance. Neither of us had yet considered the scandal that would certainly emerge if the two of us were to be found alone and unsupervised, but our newfound commonalities felt so comfortable that the topic never came up.

"We should get back before..." I started.

Benedict cleared his throat, "Yes, that would probably be wise."

"Until we meet again, Miss Jackson. And we shall."

Benedict nodded a goodbye, making his way back into the ballroom.

[sssatorus]

through the static

chapter three: phase shift

series masterlist | read on ao3 ✨

pale blue eyes - lucy rose🎶

As you step out onto the furthest training field, tucked behind the west wing of Jujutsu High, the first thing you notice is how serene everything feels back here. The sun hasn’t fully crested the treetops yet, the sky still a swirl of oranges and lavenders, the morning fog clinging to the grass in a thin veil.

It’s quiet.

Too quiet.

The second thing you notice, with a glance at your watch, is that Gojo is seven minutes late.

You frown, shifting on your feet. The morning chill bites at your skin through your sweatshirt, but you can barely feel it over the low thrum of your cursed energy—nervous, twitching under your skin like static.

Did he forget?

Did he decide you weren’t worth the time?

Was this just some prank? Is he hiding with Geto behind a bush somewhere, laughing about the new girl he tricked into waking up at dawn for nothing?

Your stomach tightens. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. You could train on your own. You don’t need Satoru Gojo.

…Except you kind of do, don’t you?

You haven’t gotten very far alone.

A crunch in the grass pulls your attention to the end of the field. He’s walking toward you with that same confident, careless gait, looking entirely too casual for someone who demanded you meet him at sunrise.

In his hands are two drinks: one iced coffee and one brightly colored can.

“You’re early!” he says, scanning your frowning face. “Hm—or maybe I’m late. But I brought you coffee, so you can’t be mad at me.”

“You said six,” you scold, though you still mumble a soft ‘thanks’ as you take the cup.

“I’m only…” Gojo makes a dramatic show of checking his watch. “Ten minutes late! Come on, don’t be one of those people.”

He laughs when you glare at him. “Man, Asahi wasn’t lying. You are so not a morning person.”

It was true—you really aren’t a morning person. You’ve gotten better with age, but you can still remember how your father used to drag you out of bed for school, bribing you with pancakes. A pang tightens in your chest. You miss mornings like that.

You say nothing, sipping your coffee, hoping the caffeine hits soon. You nearly spit it out as soon as it hits your tongue, the rush of sickly sweet filling you, sugar crystals stuck in your mouth. You shake your head, “Ew, is there any coffee in here with all this sugar?”

He frowns. “I didn't know how you took your coffee so I made it my way.”

You wipe your mouth, setting the coffee back down. “I appreciate the gesture but this is disgusting.”

He laughs, pulling his glasses down enough for you to see him wink down at you. “What can I say, I like sweet things.”

You look away, hoping he can't see the heat rising on the back of your neck, your cheeks.

Gojo chugs the rest of his drink and, with a casual flick of cursed energy you envy, crushes the can into a tight ball and tosses it aside. He smirks at you. “Ready to embarrass yourself?”

You arch an eyebrow. “Is that your version of a pep talk?”

“It’s proven to be very effective.”

He starts walking onto the field, and you follow. But before you reach the center, the question that’s been circling your mind since last night tumbles out before you can stop it.

“Why are you helping me, anyway?”

Gojo doesn’t stop walking, just glances over his shoulder.

“Probably because I’m bored.” He pauses and turns fully to face you. "Or maybe because you’re Asahi’s sister, and I’m a really nice guy.”

You give him a flat look. He sticks out his tongue.

Then, softer, without his usual teasing edge, he says, “And I want to see what happens when you stop getting in your own way.”

The air shifts around you. You weren’t sure what you expected him to say, but it wasn’t that. It sits deep in your chest, humming.

“So I’m just a science experiment to you?” you try to joke, and thankfully he laughs. The tension eases.

“Exactly!” He claps his hands together. “We’ll keep it simple today. No cursed techniques, no sparring—just cursed energy. You need to feel it before you can control it.”

You nod slowly, still thinking about his words. When you stop getting in your own way.

“Let’s get started.” He drops onto the grass and leans back, propping himself up on his elbows. “First lesson: grounding. You’re so focused on whether your energy is flaring that you’re ignoring everything in between. You have to let it flow through you. Notice how it moves. Get comfortable with it.”

You eye him warily. “And I do that through… grounding.”

He sighs, tipping his head back, thinking. “Yeah. Think of it like this: you know how electricity needs a grounding wire?”

You blink. “Right.”

“If you don’t ground it, the current doesn’t know where to go. It shorts out or overloads everything it touches.” He lifts an eyebrow. “That’s you. You’re like a broken circuit. Your cursed energy freaks out because it doesn’t have anywhere to land.”

You open your mouth, then close it again.

Somehow, it makes sense. You're annoyed you haven't thought of it like that before.

You look down at your hands. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to walk across this field without sparking like a broken light bulb.”

You frown. “That’s it?”

His glasses have slid halfway down his nose, and even in the early light, his eyes shine—bright, sharp, impossible to look away from.

“That’s everything.”

And somehow, the way he says it makes you believe it.

You exhale, square your shoulders, and take a step.

Then another.

You focus on your breathing. On the path your cursed energy takes through you. It hums—uneven, skittering up your arms and down your spine—but you don’t try to snuff it out this time. You try to notice it, embrace it.

It flickers but doesn’t explode.

You look back. Gojo’s smiling. “See? That’s an improvement.”

You take another step.

“It still feels messy.” You call back.

“Better messy than gone.”

Carefully, you take three more steps. Despite your effort, your energy sputters and it’s harder for you to keep a grasp on it, like it's trying to slip through your fingers.

You don’t notice he’s moved until he’s right behind you. His voice is low, close enough that you feel it more than hear it.

“But you’re still too stiff.”

You open your mouth to argue but catch yourself when you turn and see how close he is.

“Your stance, your shoulders— way too rigid.” He steps in front of you, invading your space in that casual way of his, and your throat goes tight. “Here, let me just—”

His hands land lightly on you, one on your shoulder, the other hovering near your elbow. A simple correction, something that happens between classmates dozens of times, but in an instant, everything stops.

Your cursed energy doesn’t fight you. Doesn’t scatter or flare. It simply…aligns. Flowing steady and quiet, the way you’ve always imagined it was supposed to feel.

Warmth rushes from the point of contact, your energy meeting something vast and steady in his, humming together in a way that feels strangely familiar. Resonating.

Your breath catches.

Not in some cliche, cute boy taking your breath away kind of moment. You weren't blind, you knew Satoru Gojo was beautiful, but this wasn't that. That would be a whole lot easier to explain than whatever the hell this was.

You know he feels it too. You feel the subtle shift in his grasp, the way his fingers twitch but don't pull away. When he finally speaks, he's so quiet you can hardly hear him, barely a whisper. “...Huh.”

You look up, just for a moment, and see the furrow in his brow, the way his mouth parts like he’s about to say something. Even through the tinted lenses, you swear you feel his gaze studying you.

Then he steps back, and the connection snaps, like a wire pulled too taut. Your cursed energy rushes back over you, wild and disorganized, but different now—like it remembers the shape of that alignment.

Gojo runs a hand through his hair, trying to look casual. But you see the way his jaw clenches.

“So…” You croak, finding your voice. “I’m guessing that’s not normal.”

He lets out a quiet laugh that sounds more like an exhale. “No. No, it’s not.”

He calls the training for the day, muttering something about needing to think. You walk back together in silence. When you reach the courtyard, he lifts a hand in a small wave and turns away, not looking at you. You watch him disappear around the corner.

By the time you find Nanami and Haibara near the dorm entrance, you’ve managed to school your face into something almost neutral. Something that doesn’t look like your idea of cursed energy just shifted sideways.

“Morning!” Haibara calls, grinning. “How’d training go?"

You open your mouth. Close it.

Nanami raises a brow. “That bad?”

“No,” you say quickly. “Just…weird.”

“Everything with Gojo is weird,” Nanami mutters, and for a moment, you almost smile.

You let their chatter wash over you as you grab breakfast, sit through class, spar against Nanami in the afternoon. When you practice grounding again, your cursed energy almost listens.

But later that night, after dinner and a shower, you end up on the dorm steps, knees tucked to your chest, staring at nothing.

You don’t look up when Asahi sits down beside you, shoulder bumping yours. He cracks open a can of soda.

“You’re thinking too hard,” he says, voice light. “You might pull something.”

You let out a huff that’s almost a laugh. “Very funny.”

“Rough day?”

“Not rough,” you murmur. “Just…strange.”

He hums in, not pushing you further. That's always been his way– wait you out, let you talk when you're ready.

You pick at your sleeve. “I was training with Gojo. Learning how to ground my energy. And it was working. Until we touched.”

Asahi doesn’t move.

“It felt like our energy just…synced. Like they were resonating or something.” You look away. “And the weirdest part was that, for a minute, my cursed energy didn't feel like something I had to fight. It just felt…like it was finally aligned.”

The confession hangs between you.

“And I just wish,” you whisper, “that Dad hadn’t kept all this in the dark. That we hadn’t had to pretend cursed energy didn’t exist. Because maybe then I’d have some clue what’s happening to me.”

He sighs, staring out across the grass. “I think he thought he was protecting us.”

“From what?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just studies the can in his hands.

“I don't know. And I don’t know why he kept all this from us, what he was hiding from."

He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close.

“But I do know that you being here is a good thing,” he says. “And we’ll figure it out. Together.”

You lean into him, letting out a long breath.

“Yeah,” you murmur. “We’ll figure it out.”

[riphobisbraces]

The Lucky Seven | BTS ot7 x reader

Hybrid/Royal AU

~ Chapter 1 ~

[ word count 3400+ ]

❀ genre: dark royal core, hybrid au, royalty au, hybrids/knights!ot7 x human/ princess!reader, afab (she/her) reader, polyamory (mostly ot7 x reader), strangers to lovers, daddy dom, smut and sexual sometimes. tiny bits of horror

❀ warnings: smut, swearing, murder, death (not the reader or ot7 though, I'm not evil), mentions of inbreeding (not between reader or ot7) some unsettling horror depictions, it won't be every chapter though or the whole story, just little bits here and there. (I'm willing to re write chapters for you to read if you can't do horror but still wanna follow along, just ask!🖤)

——— summary ———

In a world of hybrids and humans, following each other closely to extinction, you are one of the last full humans, Princess y/l/n of the emerald nation. humans are essential for the survival of hybrids so why are assailants hunting you and your family down? because of this, the court has decided it’d be best for you to be guarded at all times by the nations strongest knights, you’ve only ever heard of them but have never seen their faces. What will happen once you come face to face with the infamous “lucky seven”?

[ chapter 1 ]

“you will not go.”

Your father states lowly but firmly. The voice sharp enough to slice the chatter amongst the servants into silence. you were having lunch with your mother and father when you made the fatal mistake of bringing up the possibility of you attending tonight’s annual masquerade ball and thereby making your debut to the kingdom.

Ever since you were a little girl you had been sheltered your entire life. You’re told it’s for your own protection, for your people. you have to stay safe and alive to be able to nourish your nation.

being one of the last full blooded humans, you are a target. No one knows what you look like and you don’t know what anyone else looks like as well. Aside from your staff and servants, no one has ever seen your face. The kingdom and nation knows of your existence of course and they love you nonetheless but because of the scarcity of humans, your father has hidden you away in fear of you being kidnapped or worse.

Your father sees you as a priceless pearl, something he has the strong urge to protect. You were his treasure and he himself had a dark past he never got into as to why he was so overprotective. “but father… I’m 22 years old..” you say but as soon as it leaves your mouth, you wish you could take it back.

“Daughter, I know your age. And to question me is to disobey me, please leave your mother and I at once and make your way into your chamber” your father ends the conversation with that, wiping his mouth with his hanker-chief. He’s always been strict and what he says is always final. As you sat across from your mother, you stood up, placing your hands on the cold grey marble table.

You give her a look, furrowing your eyebrows as to say “please say something” but to your dismay she does the same as your father, wiping her mouth then clearing her throat before looking down to finish her meal. You sigh before you give in with a feeble “yes father”. standing up, you make your way out of dining room, feeling sympathetic glances from the staff as you leave the room.

Walking to your chamber you notice the marbled white floor feels a bit chilly today. you walk through the corridor, onto the white stairway, feeling the relief of warm velvet carpet beneath your chilly feet. Walking up the stairs, one by one, you reach the halfway mark.

The sun from the large glass windows on top of the staircase beams through, tickling your eyes. you squint and use your hand to shade your eyes before looking up. You see two birds fly by, disappearing as quickly as they appeared, almost looking like as if they flew into the clouds.

You feel your heart fall heavy, filled with desperation to be like one of those birds, even just for a second. how lucky they were, to be able to go anywhere, anytime they want. no responsibilities.

It’s a little cliche but people are right when they say they wish they were birds you think to yourself. You’ve read hundreds of books and definitely have come across some descriptions of people wanting to be birds. Never understanding though as a child, you would think to yourself “why on earth would one want feathers? And to have a beak? How bizarre” But as an adult, you understood why now. It was about the freedom.

“Your highness, are you alright? Is your heart okay?” No it isn’t. You snap out of your thoughts before you realize you were still standing halfway up the staircase, clutching your chest all the while an old male servant by the name of Lloyd, looked at you with a face of concern. How long did you space out for, you thought.

“Oh yes, thank you. I guess I just got lost in thought” you give a half smile to your servant. His face of concern turned to relief before quickly turning sour again. while waiting for his response you realize he was one of the servants that was in the dining room when that whole theatrical happened with your father.

“Your highness, please forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn but I do feel sorry for you and your predicament. Please let me know if there is anything that I can do to lessen your grievances.” He tries to smile before dismissing himself with a bow and turning away. this of course isn’t unusual, your servants do seem to pity you a lot, which you find ridiculous and kind of ironic, that your “sheltering” has gotten to the point where servants pity a princess!

you’re grumbling as you think and make your way through the upstairs corridor, before eventually finally reaching your room. the oh so familiar two large and tall, white doors stand in front of you. you’ve seen these doors more often than you’ve seen your own face you thought to yourself.

reaching for the diamond knobs you turn them before pushing your way in. The breeze of the outside immediately hits your nose. It’s so fresh and delightful.

Your maids know how stuffy it gets in your chamber and how much you love fresh air so they leave your window open whenever you’re away from your chamber. Your room is cream coloured and filled to the brim with gold accents. High ceilings and lots of books.

Walking towards your desk by the window, you feel your mood start to shift. you feel a bit better despite the little argument you had with father this afternoon. you take a seat in your chair, it’s plush seating immediately coaxing your back into comfort and relaxation.

Inhale… exhale… you look up to your painting above the desk. it’s of two women, dancing in glee at some sort of outdoors festival. you always loved this painting, the happiness they seem to exude, the freedom and love.

They look like they don’t care about the past nor future, they are just focused on the present and what’s in front of each other. Oh how you longed to be that free and content. you feel the familiar heaviness sinking into you chest once again.

you have to feel that freedom, you have to have that happiness at least for one night, dear god, please, just for one night. The desperation in your chest starts to grow more and more. The desperation turns into fear and anxiety.

You feel your palms sweat and your face get hot just at the very thought. Your hands start to shake once you come to the very obvious conclusion. you HAVE to sneak out to the ball tonight.

—

“But Lloyd, you said you would do anything” you whine with a pout to your servant. “Your highness I-I might’ve of offered but I didn’t think you would need this! And your father- ohhh no, your father is a very scary man and I don’t think if I-“ you shush Lloyd, the same old male servant from before from the stairway. “shhhh. Keep it down! you aren’t doing anything you aren’t supposed to be doing, just play along. Just- Please.. “ You reply with hopelessness at this point, looking down.

you had hatched the perfect plan. You made it as though you were sleeping in your bed, forming your pillows to the shape of your body underneath the comforter. You were all dressed and had your mask on but even so, you would just have to avoid your personal staff and your parents, no one knew you were the princess and what you looked like.

Your father had luckily assigned Lloyd to sit outside your chamber with the guards. The routine is usually a servant will come in and out, checking on you from time to time making sure you are okay before letting the guards know. they would sit there all night which you had gotten used to over the course of your life.

You were always being watched and protected. a sigh interrupts your thoughts “if you’re caught, I knew nothing.” he says in defeat. your eyes widen with a bright glow and you feel your heart skip a beat before jumping into his arms “thank you, thank you, thank you” you whisper. he knows he shouldn’t be doing this but he can’t help but feel for you and your situation.

But the way you lit up and how fast he heard your heart go at his answer, he didn’t regret agreeing. Suddenly he pulled away from the embrace to face you, “Okay princess but you have to promise me not to leave the castle! please stay within the ball and please don’t get recognized. If you’re in danger please just run back to your chamber and reveal yourself to the servants so we can help you. And-“ the old man was about to continue before you cut him off “I promise I’ll be safe. just leave it all to me” you smiled at him.

He sighed out before he looked down at you and tried to return the smile but couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. “Okay your highness” He replied. You give him one last smile before you let go and he dismisses himself.

Hearing your chamber door closed, you slowly walked up to your mirror, taking one last look. you were adorned with a long black dress, thin short sleeves resting on your shoulders, décolletage exposed wearing a pearl necklace with a dark green emerald laid in between your collarbones. your bangs were slightly pinned back just enough to show off your black lace mask.

Wearing your silk black gloves, you pulled up your mask to your face. this was the night. Tonight would be the night of your life. you feel yourself start to shake, before you suddenly feel the urge to throw up from all the adrenaline already.

you swallow it back holding your stomach. You thought this would be easy, thinking of it so many times before but now that you’re actually doing it, you are very frightened. You’ve never been by yourself, you’ve never been in public and mostly, you’ve never disobeyed your father.

You start to rethink your decisions. It’s not too late to undress and head to bed your good conscience says. father would never know. no. something snaps in you saying “it’s now or never”.

you shake your hands breathing in and out walking back and forth from your window before looking out to check for the outside night guards. You planned on jumping out your window and making your way to the ball since you’re only up on the second floor. There was also a small tool-shed in front of your window so you decided that you could easily make that jump to on top of it.

Once you’ve noticed that the guards finished their round near your window and were out of sight, you decide you have to just do it, or else you never will. without thinking, you opened your window ever so slightly before making the jump to the top of that very shed you’ve thought about jumping onto for years.

—

breathing in and out while looking up at the stars, you just lay there, on top of the tool shed. “I did it” you thought. You start to quietly giggle to yourself.

Even if you didn’t make it to the ball, this was enough. this was the furthest you’ve ever been outside the castle by yourself and it was simply outside your window. you catch eye of the Big Dipper, noting how prettier it looks outside.

You’ve seen the Big Dipper many times before from your window but to be apart of it outside, feels different. there are no walls surrounding you, just miles and miles of horizon. you feel like you’re in space.

“wow..” you say. You’re enjoying being in this new space before you’re brought back to reality with the sound of a snap of a twig. you quickly sat up and gasped.

you looked around into the darkness, squinting in hopes that would somehow improve your night vision. you quickly climb off once you decide that the coast is clear, making your way into the night. you can’t shake the feeling that someone or something is watching you though so you pick up your pace to the entrance.

Turns out your feeling was right. someone was watching you, not a threat though. the hybrid watched in the dark with curiosity as you made your way to the front of the palace. “Hmm” a low voice grumbles from the dark as you’re already long gone.

—

“woah…” you say in amazement at the crowd. You made your way to the front entrance where every hybrid of all ages were laughing and chattering. everyone looks beautiful and exquisite, definitely fit for a Royal ball.

You can’t help but smile like you never smiled before in your life. in awe of the different faces and smells, you find yourself all of a sudden getting pushed inside as everyone makes their way in. the crowd forming a moving wave toward the entrance with you in it so you decide to just go with the flow hoping you won’t trip.

As the crowd moves towards inside, it doesn’t take long before everyone starts to disperse into a large and grand ballroom. You gasp in astonishment, why haven’t you ever seen the ballroom when it was decorated like this?

Yes you’ve passed by it many times but the room was always empty and plain. It always felt spacious and dark, a lonely room. but tonight was different, the room had come alive with warmth and gold.

It was as if what was missing were people, smiles and laughter. It felt like an another dimension, the layout was your home but you were somewhere completely different. You made your way to the side of the room, leaning against the wall and just taking in the scene before you.

The sound of trumpets startle you from your bewilderment, panicking and immediately ducking down because you know that could only mean your father is going to make his entrance. “Woahh there miss, it’s just the horns for the king” a deep voice makes you turn your head.

A tall man standing in front of you makes your stomach drop. Looking him up and down real quick you realize, he’s a knight. you’ve never been this close to anyone but your servants, let alone having to speak to them. “o-oh yeah. I know” you quickly say before trying to hide again.

You look at the grand staircase in the middle of the room where it looks like your father will be entering from. Feeling your heart beat faster you turn back to get another look at the man’s face beside you before realizing he hadn’t broken his eye contact on you since he’s spoked. he was wearing a black eye mask but you could tell that he was handsome.

His heart shaped lips and angular jawline. He had dark hair and dark eyes to match, you could feel your palms getting hot and a weird fluttering feeling go off in your stomach just by looking at him. “is there a reason why you don’t smell of hybrid miss?” he broke your thought whilst smirking.

Wait what, smell? “what do you mean?” you question. He continues “well it’s just that, every hybrid has a certain scent that others can decipher as hybrid but it seems that…” he leans closer to smell you as you shiver from the sudden close contact “you don’t have a scent. Not a hybrid scent anyway, and as a hybrid, I shouldn’t even be having to explain this to you as you should know this… right?” He smiles. Shit, you are screwed.

You didn’t know that. otherwise you would’ve stayed in your chamber. Humans and hybrids have differentiating scents? your father never really told you these things as he thought you wouldn’t need to know them.

God damn it, father, you thought to yourself. “I just-“ you were about to continue when you were saved by the bell, or at least you thought you were. It was your father speaking. “Welcome to the 34th annual masquerade ball! please help yourself to refreshments and dance to your heart's content! please enjoy!” He finishes with a bow.

Everyone begins clapping as you find yourself sneaking away to get back to your chamber. Making your way out, you suddenly feel your wrist being grabbed, you gasped before your turned to face the same man you were talking to before. “I know you’re the princess, and I know you shouldn’t be here” he admits with a soft voice.

You feel your knees turn into noodles as you’re caught. “Please oh please don’t tell my Father, I was just about to go back into my chamber-“ you’re cut off when something quickly partially covers your sight. the room went quiet from the sudden fast flying object. you look above the thing partially covering your sight before you realize what it was.

An arrow. in between yours and the man’s face. You gasp, breath hitching, trembling as you look at the man in front of you who also has wide eyes. he suddenly covers you and picks you up bridal style without a thought and yells “THE PRINCESS IS BEING ATTACKED” everyone starts to scream and duck once everyone registers what’s going on.

“the princess?” “What is she doing here” screams and confused chatter quickly spread amongst the ball all the while, your father is standing on top of the stairs frozen in bewilderment.

What were you doing here? Who was attacking? Who’s going after his little girl? Why can’t he move? He can’t do anything but watch everything unfold in shock, still like a statue.

The voices of servants and knights trying to get orders from him, just registering as ringing in his ears. His mouth slightly agape, amongst the chaos, one of his best knights pulls him by the shoulders. “MY LORD” suddenly a loud voice abruptly brought him back from his frozen shock.

He looks up before realizing it’s one of the lucky seven. Ironically, he feels lucky because of this. “get my daughter out of here” is all the king could muster before the knight gave him a stern nod.

Running down the stairs, the knight yells out to his pack member carrying the princess “HOBI, GET HER TO NAMJOON” hobi nods while running to the front to where the said knight named Namjoon resided. The aforementioned knight running down the stairs then took out his sword and quickly looked for his other pack members to take down the asalients.

—

you’re frozen. You can’t do anything but watch the horror unfold. This is all your fault, it had to be. People were pushing each other, screaming and crying.

Everyone was running for their lives all the while you were being carried by this unknown knight. You could feel the regret and fear in your stomach churning together to create this whole new awful feeling. You just wanted to go home, you regretted ever coming out.

Your train of thought is broken when the two of you finally made it outside. An even taller and buff looking man ran up to you guys. “Hobi, what’s going on?” he asks concerned while looking back at you both and everyone running past you guys. Who you guess is Hobi, puts you down and replies “this is the princess, she’s being attacked. We need to hide her until the others calm everything down, king’s orders”

Namjoon looks at you in shock “the princess?” before quickly shaking his head, snapping himself out of his own shock before saying “alright, I’ll take her from here”. The buff looking man quickly shape-shifts into his animal form, a large dark grey wolf.

Hobi quickly puts you on top of his back before saying “hang on tight your highness” you do as your told and hold onto the wolf around its shoulders, not being able to wrap your arms fully around because of how truly large he was. Letting your hands sink into his fur, you grab on before he suddenly starts running.

You turn around as the palace behind you becomes smaller and smaller and the screams become quieter and quieter. You turn back to face forward before letting yourself succumb to your adrenaline, now feeling safe. This fur is warm you think to yourself before drifting to sleep, all the while you somehow held onto the hybrid tight the whole ride, too scared to let go or be alone even whilst asleep.

a/n; okay so I know I said I would start writing chapter one tomorrow but I couldn’t wait, I wanted to get the story rolling before I started writing tomorrow again. anyway what did you think? why didn’t Lloyd tell y/n about humans and hybrids having different scents? who was watching her while she was on top of the tool shed? and how did hobi know y/n was the princess 🤔 also who was the knight that broke the king out of his thoughts? So many questions unanswered but continue reading to see what happens! we will be meeting the boys properly next chapter :)

Next chapter:

[ikeromantic]

Punishing the Belle

A Chevalier Michel fanfiction. Approx. 3900 words. This scene takes place in Chapter 22-23 of the romantic route and is told from Chevalier’s POV. Part 20 of a series. Contains smut!

Chapter List

Chevalier was pleased with his prosecution of the war. Obsidian's forces were stretched thin by the multiple fronts of the attack, just as he'd planned. And as predicted, they signalled a willingness to sign a treaty of non-aggression. He left the details of the event to Four-Eyes and his brothers, though he kept an eye on intelligence reports. He read them every day, from his spot on Emma's couch. 

She was healing from the poison, but not as quickly as he'd like. Her delicate frame did not endure as well as her steel spirit. Emma was getting stronger each day, a fact that both pleased and disturbed him. Soon enough, she would be ready to announce her choice for King. Then she would leave the palace, and his life. As she should. As he wanted her to. 

"Ah! That brought tears to my eyes," she sighed from her bastion of pillows and soft, fluffy blankets. The book in her lap fell shut and Emma leaned back with a smile.

Chevalier felt his own lips curl up in response. "A royal romance with a twist, right?"

She nodded. "Yes! There are many kinds of royal romances, you know? But this one seems like the type where different people would have different opinions on whether the ending is happy or tragic. Love was the reason for their separation. A commoner and a prince." Emma gave a wistful laugh and then winced. 

He closed the cover of the report he was reading. "I didn't think it was tragic at all. 'I'll hope for your happiness even when we're no longer together,'" Chev quoted. "I found it satisfactory."

"Well, I can't say for sure either way. I mean, in the end they both marry other people, have families, and are happy. But I can't help feeling that it still wasn't exactly a happy ending for them." She hugged the book to her chest and sighed. "I am conflicted about the ending, but I loved the scene with the dance party. It was wonderful!"

Chevalier nodded. "I knew you'd like that."

She glanced at him curiously. "Really? How?"

"Remember the ball you attended some time ago? The look in your eyes changed the instant the dancing began. I assumed you had a strange longing for it." Strange indeed, thought Chev. Dancing was pointless. "The reality of a ball is that it's a social occasion full of political intrigue and scheming."

Emma shrugged. "In stories it's a wonderful moment where love blossoms and you can share feelings with your dance partner." Her gaze turned nostalgic. "Wearing a beautiful dress and dancing with the one you love. Ahhhh, that is what dreams are made of."

"Ridiculous," he snorted.

"I knew you'd say that." Her smile faded as she set the book on the nightstand. Then she slid out of bed, standing unsteadily on her feet. "I'm thirsty so I'm going to make some tea. Would you like a cup?"

He studied her with a critical eye. "Are you sure it's alright for you to be moving around?"

"Yes. I got permission from the doctor when he examined me earlier today." She took a wobbling step, like a small child just learning to walk. "The poison is completely gone and so is the numbness in my limbs. Emma spun in place, holding her arms out for balance. "See?"

Chevalier opened the report folder and pretended not to notice her display. He felt conflicted, just as she had at the end of her book. "I'll have what I always do."

"Okay!" She pulled on a robe and tottered out the door. 

He watched her from his lowered gaze. The Belle's time in the palace was coming to an end. As early as next week, in fact. His chest gave a fierce pang, one he ignored. Such feelings were beneath him. Like the prince in her book, he would marry another. And she would as well. She would be happy. Happier with another man, one that came without the troubles of a royal scion.

When Emma came back pushing a tea cart, she sat down beside him on the couch. She poured his tea and then reached for a new book. 

"We're holding a peace conference with Obsidian next week." Chevalier said, the words unexpected. 

"Oh!" She swallowed, reached for her tea and then changed her mind. The import was not lost on her. 

Chevalier continued. "If you're fully recovered, you should know what I'm trying to say." He forced his voice to a coolness he did not feel. Feel. How that word came into the lexicon of The Brutal Beast he still did not understand. He willed his heart to its former hardness. 

Emma nodded. "The time has come for me to choose a king, then."

"Once a king is selected, Clause 99 will go into effect. Immediately." His ice blue gaze met hers. "No matter who you choose, you cannot have any further contact with him. You aren't permitted to stay in the palace beyond that point. Consider the day you choose a king to be the last day you spend in the palace."

For a heartbeat, he thought she might cry, but his Emma was stronger than that. She squared her shoulders and took a breath. "I understand." Her lips parted to say more. She paused, then, "Could I make one selfish request?"

Chevalier was curious what she might ask for. More time, perhaps? "You can make the request, but it doesn't mean I will grant it." He took a sip of tea, trying to quiet his roiling emotions. Such inconvenient things. 

Her lips curled in a tremulous smile. "Prince Chevalier, would you dance with me?"

The request surprised him so much that he froze, nearly choking on the tea. Dance? She wanted to dance? Of all the things she might have asked . . . his mouth twisted into a grimace. "That sounds like a bother."

"I see." Her hopeful expression faded to resigned disappointment.

"What could possibly be the point of dancing with you? There's nothing to be gained."

"As thanks for the dance, I could entertain you in some way?" She didn't sound optimistic, but still determined to try for the slight possibility she could convince him. 

Chevalier considered. Her persistence was one feature of her that he found endearing. Emma was always willing to try, even when she expected to fail. "You say that as if there is something meaningful about it. But entertainment is a very small price to pay for daring to have me dance with you." He gulped the remainder of his hot tea and stood. 

"Are you leaving then?"

He didn't answer. He didn't want to. Dancing was an annoying activity. And worse, because he did not dance at any ball, to give her this one gift would mark her out as special to him. As good as painting a target on her back. Another poisoning attempt. A fire at the bookstore. A random alley-way attack on her way home. Chevalier paused after a few steps toward the door. Despite all that, he did want to dance with her. To give her that one special romantic memory. He glanced over his shoulder. "What are you just sitting there for?"

Emma perked up, her eyes wide. "What do you mean?"

"Do you want to dance in a confined space like this?" He gestured to her room, crowded as it was with piles of books, the tea cart, and a myriad of medicines. 

"Oh! You - you mean you will dance with me afterall?" The joy in her voice was worth everything. Anything. Chev felt a fool, but he could not regret it. Not now, anyway. 

He held out a hand to her. "It's a bother, but the nerve it took for you to ask me is something I hold in high regard."

Her hand fluttered to her chest and her smile was so bright it hurt to see. "Thank you," she breathed. 

"I think you must be the only woman in the world with this strange desire to dance with me." He gently cupped her hand in his and walked her to the ballroom. The setting sun set scarlet glimmers dancing across the floor from the swaying crystals in the high chandeliers. Gold light spilled from the wide windows and made everything glow. 

Chevalier stepped into the light, leading her to the center of the marble floor, to the heart of the rose of Rhodolite. He could not help but feel Emma belonged here as he gazed at her now. Mussed hair from time abed, wearing no fine gown, only her comfortable day robe and simple satin gown beneath. She was so beautiful. Precious and fragile and entirely his. Could he truly release her as duty demanded?

He pulled her close in a formal position for a slow waltz, one hand in hers and the other at her back. Though there was no music, he led her in the steps of the dance. Movements ingrained in him since childhood, for a prince must be as good in the ballroom as on the battlefield. 

Emma's expression was rapturous. Joy suffused her face and lent grace to her limbs. She followed his lead, seeming to grow stronger with each step. "Prince Chevalier, you're really good at dancing. I assumed from what you've said that you never danced before."

"I haven't, but I do know how." He smiled down at her. "I never imagined that knowledge would be put to use to entertain you, though." He pressed closer to her, closer than a proper dance would allow. "You're a simple woman if you find such joy in something so minor."

She shook her head slightly. "I'm not simple. Having the opportunity to dance with you is a treasure to me. More precious than gold."

He scoffed. "Maybe that's true for a simpleton." Despite his words, he found himself enjoying this dance with her as well. Her closeness, her beauty, her happiness all infected him with a warmth that spread out from his chest. He found his smile grow, making his cheeks ache. He wanted to draw this moment out, but all good things must end. His steps slowed and they came to a stop. Still, he looked down at her, unable to tear his eyes away.

"Prince Chevalier." She let go of him and took a step back. "I intend to choose the second prince to be king."

His brows rose, though he wasn't truly surprised. "Oh? Your ideal king isn't a man who meets the people halfway? Like Black?"

"Naturally, if Leon became king Rhodolite would become a wonderful country where many people could smile." She studied his face, her gaze seeing more than just him. "In spite of that, I want to entrust Rhodolite's future to you."

"Why?" He stepped close, erasing the distance she'd put between them. 

Her smile grew, and it was full of her hope and love and loss. "You're the kind of person who can do anything, Prince Chevalier. If you wanted to, you could be successful at so much more than just foreign or domestic affairs. I'm sure you could also promise happiness to the people of your kingdom."

"Of course," he replied slowly, absorbing her words, her expression. "I have outstanding aptitudes but have you forgotten the reason many people keep their distance from me?"

"That's in the past." She placed her palm to his chest, right over his heart.

Chevalier looked away, unable to meet her gaze any longer.

"Before the war, you swore to the anti-war faction. You promised that you would bring peace without fail. That you would protect our kingdom so that their loved ones would find happiness. And you fulfilled that promise. Pressing Obsidian for a peace treaty, uniting our allies to fight for that dream. " Emma took a trembling breath. "You even convinced those that took the enemy's side. The people in the anti-war faction that you saved are enjoying peaceful lives now, with their loved ones beside them."

She waited for a response, but Chevalier didn't have one. He'd expected she would choose him for his intellect. Or his warrior's nature. Worried she might choose another for the same reasons. He didn't expect she would pick him for the qualities no one but she saw in him. His humanity. 

"Without your help, the situation could not have been resolved peacefully. I think that now, you're actually listening to your people. It's my firm conviction that you'll become a king who will surpass generations of kings, past and future." Her voice was full of faith in him. Trust.

"What a foolish reason for a selection," he breathed, the words hollow. His gaze narrowed as he looked out at the setting sun. "You believe that I won't return to the way I was?"

She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

Chevalier finally turned back to her. "What I did for the people was on a whim. I was curious about the value that you claim love has. However, when the need is no longer there, I will return to my former ruthlessness. The beast that horrified you when we first met hasn't gone anywhere. He's right here." He tapped her hand where it still rested above his heart. "Knowing this, do you still chose me as king?"

Emma smiled. "I'm not worried about you returning to the way you used to be."

"Why not?"

"Because you've recognized the value of love, haven't you, Prince Chevalier?" Her eyes locked with his, denying the coldness he presented there. "If you hadn't, you would have gone ahead with another purge. And you know the kingdom is better for it. I can't imagine you would ignore that fact."

She was right, of course. Chevalier could see the bonds between his people strengthen from his merciful choice when confronting the anti-war faction. The loyalty his choice built. It had been the right decision, even though it relied on the inconsistent hearts of men. 

"I believe in your human heart, Prince Chevalier."

"I see." He wasn't sure what else to say. 

Emma's hand dropped away and she took another step back. She curtsied low, as a commoner to royalty. "Thank you for dancing with me. I'll never forget this day. I will treasure it for the rest of my life."

Chevalier wanted to respond with some callous remark, something to defend the tender heart her words bruised. No words would come. She was saying goodbye to him, as she should. And he was letting her go. 

She turned and began to walk away. "I guess it's almost time for dinner," she called over her shoulder in false cheer. "I know you always have it in your room, but perhaps sometime before I leave, we could -"

He closed the distance between them in a heartbeat and found his arms wrapped tight around her before he understood what he intended. Chevalier buried his face against her hair, inhaling her scent, her warmth. 

"Prince Chevalier?" Her voice was breathless and surprised.

"You . . . reminded me. I haven't given you your punishment," he said, his voice husky and low.

"What punishment?"

He kissed the edge of her ear, pressed his lips to the racing pulse in her throat. "I said before I let you go to war. Getting hurt wasn't permitted." He nipped her earlobe. "I'm sure I told you that you would receive appropriate punishment if you broke your promise."

"O-okay. What's the punishment?" Her face tilted so that she could look at him. 

Chevalier's hands caressed her curves, and pulled her back against him until she fit tight to his body. "I find myself feeling . . . famished. Would you join me for dinner?"

"What," she gasped as his teeth scraped the delicate skin beneath her ear. "That's my - my punishment?"

His tongue traced the line of her neck and flicked against the sweetness of her lips, tempting. Taunting. "Indeed. Even after you leave the palace and we never see each other again, I won't allow you to forget me." Nor will I ever be able to forget you, he thought, but did not say.

Chevalier was almost surprised when she turned in his grasp to face him. Her lips invited a kiss, and the prince obliged. He let his passion, long suppressed, bubble to the surface. It was dangerous to let go of control, but it felt so good. He captured her mouth with his, plunging the sweet depths of her with his tongue. His hands caressed her body through the thin fabric of her night dress and robe. 

Emma didn't pull away. She wrapped her arms around him, and when his hand cupped her rear, she let him lift her. Her legs wrapped around him, her nightgown rode up to her thighs. It excited him to see her nearly disrobed. He felt hungry for her, needy in a way that was strange and exhilarating. He wanted to touch and taste every bit of her. Chevalier wanted - desired - and for the first time in his life, he allowed it.

In just a few steps, he had her pinned against a column, his hands hiking up her gown and robe. She tugged it over her head and let the garment fall to the floor. Moonlight bathed her bare skin, and for a breath, all Chevalier could do was look. She was more beautiful than he'd imagined. Lush and soft, delicate and firm, he knew there was no such thing as a perfect body, but she was perfect to him. 

His lips and teeth left a trail of little marks down her throat and collarbone. He lavished her breasts with attention, enjoying the way the nipples hardened against his tongue. Chev wanted her so badly that his body ached with it, a tension as sweet as it was unendurable. 

Emma undid his shirt buttons, sliding her cool hands across his chest, running her nails down his sides. Her hips rocked against him as she arched under his ministrations. She was enjoying him as much as he delighted in her. Matching his desire, his hunger. Her hands slid down his belly, leaving a wash of coiled heat behind them as her fingers found his belt, and the button of his trousers.

Chevalier knew they should not be doing this here, in the midst of the ballroom. A passing servant could carry tales, or a messenger. They should retreat to her room, his room, any room with a door that closed and locked. But he found himself unwilling to pause, to stay their shared desire, and besides, the risk was small. The ballroom would not be in use for weeks, especially not at this late hour. He was free to indulge, and he would. 

His pants slid to the floor, joining her gown and robe. Chev gasped at the sudden touch of cool air on his cock and then shivered as Emma's warm hand wrapped around him. Her touch was gentle, uncertain, and he let her direct his pace though he wanted nothing more than to bury himself as deep in her as their joined flesh would allow. 

Instead, he channeled all of that hunger into his kisses. He devoured her, licked her, bit her. There was no exposed skin that his mouth and hands did not know. And she teased him with her gentle touches, running her satin palm against his length. Letting his aching head rub against her slick cleft. Chevalier groaned, and muffled the sound with her soft shoulder. 

Her movements were becoming more desperate, hips bucking at each pass of heated flesh. "Can I," she sighed, pushing him up to her opening. He could feel the pulse of heat, of lust, between her legs. 

Chevalier replied without words. He pushed slowly up, guided by her soft moans of pleasure. At half depth, he pulled back, letting his cock relish the feel of slowly pulling away as she clenched tight to hold him there. 

"Oh god . . ." Her words were thready with pleasure, barely coherent.

He found that he liked pleasing her. Enjoyed the sounds she made, the look on her face. Right now, her expression was pure ecstasy, and he thought his might mirror it. She felt like heaven. Better than any book could describe. His body trembled with euphoria, and he thought he might lose himself in this one, deep thrust. But he held tight control. She would peak first. He would bring her to her peak again and again, until she could think of nothing but him. 

Chevalier left just the tip of his cock inside, barely moving - just enough to tease the opening. Emma tried to wriggle against him, to push him deeper, but he refused. Not yet. He would bring her to the brink, but not over, not until she was a quivering mess in his arms. 

"You like that, do you?" Chevalier smirked. He bent to swirl his tongue over her pert nipple, expertly wringing another moan from her as his mouth clamped around her breast. His hips moved to thrust into her again, still moving slow. Still teasing them both. 

"Please," she gasped. Her nails dug into his shoulders and he enjoyed the sudden, sharp hot heat of them. 

He went deep this time, feeling the walls of her close around him until her juices were soaking his balls. The sound she made nearly undid him. Chevalier pulled nearly out and then thrust again, watching the way every motion of his hips dissolved her to senseless bliss. He found a rhythm, one he paused every few strokes to tease her. To tease himself. The discipline it took not to simply surrender to the feel of her, the scent of her, the sound of her breathy voice. 

Emma's hand drifted to his cheek, trailing her fingers lightly over his cheek. "Prince . . . Chevalier . . . I'll always adore you. Even when we're apart."

"I know." He kissed the palm of her hand and nipped at the pad of her thumb.

"I'll be like the woman in that book I finished to - to-" Her words dissipated in a moan, but she held onto the thought. "Even when we're not together anymore, I-I will wish for your happiness."

Chevalier was surprised, but then, he knew how strong her heart was. How determined. Still, he wanted this to be their one moment. Afterward, she could not harbor these feelings for him. Neither of them should want that path. "You can do whatever you want, but I am a heartless man. I'm sure I could easily forget you." 

The words were a lie, but the kindest one he could offer. It would only hurt her more to admit that he would treasure the moments with her for the rest of his life. The woman who saw him as a man. Who did not fear him. The woman who'd fallen in love with him despite every warning and obstacle in her path. Chevalier knew he did not deserve her affection. He was a cold man with a hard heart and a soul stained scarlet from the lives he'd sacrificed for his cause. She should forget him and find a kind man to love. The thought only spurred him to want to give her more, to lavish her with what love he could give on this one night. 

"You don't mean that." Her eyes closed with a shudder of pleasure. 

Chevalier did not reply with words. His body spoke for him, busying his lips with her soft skin, his hands with caresses, plunging into her with abandon. 

Her breath came in gasps and sighs, but she still managed to speak. "I hope . . . you find . . . happiness." Emma's hips lifted to meet his, her entire body shaking as the orgasm rippled through her, stealing her breath and her thoughts. 

"A king doesn't need happiness," he whispered, his words lost in the sound of her climax. The feel of her shuddering against him was too much for even his self control to hold against. His thrusts became more wild, erratic, a brutal beast of another kind. He pounded into her until he felt he might come apart at the edges. His groans of pleasure mixed with her breathy exclamations. The peak hit him in a burst of sensation, a storm of ecstasy that made him shake like a maiden. His hips pushed him deeper still as his cock bucked against her trembling core. 

I love you, he thought, kissing her forehead where her hair stuck to sweat soaked skin.

[feroshgirlsims]

Chapter 16.3 - Payback's A Dragon

Akira doesn't know why he showed up at Cora's place. Their connection was like a scab he couldn't stop picking at.

"I didn’t want to talk about what the witches did," she fumes as soon as he walks through the door.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to have sex with you for nothing, so I guess we’re both shit out of luck.”

"Is that what this is about for you?" her voice climbs up an octave. "Sex?"

"No!" Akira narrows his eyes to a squint. "Sex is the thing I don't want to do with you. This is about how you lied to me. And also, how you apologized when I told you not to."

“What kind of psycho makes you dance until you twist your ankle just because you're nice enough to say you’re sorry?”

“Me!” Akira shouts, “How many times do I have to say it’s literally what I do?”

"Oh, come off it," she sneers. "Look me in the eye and tell me it’s not a choice."

"Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't know what happens when you apologize."

“You almost broke my ankle!”

“That dragon busted my fuckin' ribs!”

“You’re immortal, you asshole! Your ribs will heal!”

They eye each other angrily, panting after screaming so loudly. "Whatever," Akira grumbles as he shoves past her. He grabs a seat at the kitchen table and after a beat, Cora follows.

"So?" She slides into the chair across from him and places her palms flat on the table. "A truth for a truth?"

He forgot he taught her this custom. Early on, he was so guarded, but somewhere between sharing barley bales and complaining about their assignments from Jacques, he slipped.

"Technically, it is a choice," Akira admits. "But the only time a fae wouldn’t take the power offered to them is if it was someone they cared for, like family, or life partners, that kind of shit."

“And I don’t qualify.” 

"It’s not about you specifically," he says quickly, and then winces. Gods knew why he was trying to be nice. Hadn't he learned his lesson? "What I mean is, I don't have a large circle of creatures I trust. Most elves don't. We're too vulnerable. Every word is a potential hook."

“I know," Cora blows out a breath, sending the hair around her face fluttering. "I've actually never seen you completely relaxed. Not even after sex. And I knew what apologizing would do. I guess I was hoping you’d prove me wrong by treating me with kid gloves.”

Akira's mind immediately flashes to Alice and Vlad. Even completely drained, he can't imagine feeding from them. And he would certainly never scramble their minds or dig around in their heads.

“How long did you know you weren’t in love with me?”

He owes her honesty. "Always."

Cora is quiet at first. Then she lurches up from the table. “I didn’t want to tell you about the witches because I didn’t want you to see how pathetic I was.”

"You weren’t pathetic."

"Spare me."

Surprisingly, that is exactly what he is trying to do. "I'm not bullshitting you. Those tests were brutal."

“You thrive off brutality,” Cora argues.

“Yeah, but I am not a sim.”

“Well, I don’t want to be a sim either!” She swipes at her eyes before balling her hands into fists. "You weren’t the only reason I moved to Ravenwood. I thought maybe being closer to ley lines or magic would break something open in me. Then I could run home with powers and my mother would know she was wrong, and she'd want me."

Her loneliness resonates, and for a minute, Akira hates how he used it against her. "Your mother is a bitch and you don't need her. You can make a new family."

"Please," she scoffs. "We aren't fucking anymore. You don't have to pretend to think what she did was horrible. You weren't the first one to reject me because I wasn't enough, and you won't be the last."

"I should be. If you learn from this." As soon as the words leave his mouth, he knows it's the wrong thing to say. Cora turns away, her shoulders rigid. Akira scrambles out of his chair to follow her. "Cora, please—"

"Please what?" she bites out, her voice raw. "Learn? Learn what? Spellcasters who don’t show an affinity are put through increasing levels of stress to force their magic. But I didn’t have magic hiding. I didn’t have magic at all. Every test kicked my ass. I could have died and all I could think was that I was a failure."

“Don't say that about yourself,” Akira puts his hand on her shoulder. The only thing Cora lacked was magic in a way that spellcasters understood. "Seriously. Fuck me and anyone else who makes you feel like that."

“I don’t want a pep talk from you. My mom discarded me, yeah, but at least she didn't use me.”

The tips of his ears grow hot. If she only understood how desperate he was. "I was worried about my partners, so I acted without..." He can't say he acted without thinking because he did think, he just didn't care. "It was shitty, alright? I know that. But The Order of Enchantment is involved and you have to know something."

"Why would I know about them?" she scowls and instantly, Akira knows it's a lie.

"Cora."

"Are you insane?" She pulls back to glare at him. "Holy fucking Watcher, you are self-absorbed. Are you not hearing me? We. Are. Not. Friends. I’m not gonna sit here and help you solve your personal issues. Those days are done."

On that, they agreed. Akira is already more than halfway to the door when she hisses she wants him to get out.

"The fae can't lie, but they can definitely make you feel like shit. I hope your life partners or fated mates or whatever you call them never have to learn that."

Akira doesn't bother with an answer. He hustles down the creaking steps, ignoring the pain that reverberates through his body with every move.

Cora reprimanding him for lying was pretty rich. And she was wrong, anyway. The fae couldn't lie, which wasn't the same as saying they didn't lie.

Under different circumstances, Akira would have let this go. Maybe she lied about The Order of Enchantment out of vanity rather than malice. But he had Vlad and Alice to take care of, and being so low on magic, he couldn't afford to let any secret fester.

The trip to his garden was long since he didn't waste even an ounce of glamour to teleport himself. The trip back was even worse, sitting on a on fucking train surrounded by all that iron.

It was worth it though, because he doesn't need magic to monitor Cora.

Sims knew so little about plants. 

About their strength.

Their power.

Their connections.

A message could pass from root to root as effortlessly as sending a text. 

Plants could watch and report, communicate, protect, even.

They were beautiful. And useful as hell. 

Yes, Akira was a liar. But Cora couldn’t imagine the depth of his devotion to his fate. The things he would do to keep them safe.

He would get what he needed. Burn the world if he had to, her included.

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(Part 4 of 4)