#the bags under his eyes/the face markings/the dark hair pulled up into a bun

[hijinks-n-lowjinks]

Hokazono please stop creating angsty dark haired men, please grant me mercy

[wntrs0ldier]

An Offer · part 10

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 7,1k warnings: typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.), a/n: sorry if it sucks, i wanted to post it as soon as possible!

series masterlist

series summary: When your father dies, the only thing you can do for your family and the empire he built, is to marry a powerful man.

With half of your face still snuggled into the pillow, you opened one eye and looked semiconsciously around the room again; or at least as much of it as the position of your body allowed. You took another breath and let it out heavily – you felt exhausted from waking up a moment before, but at the same time you knew you were rested. None of the worries that had been haunting you for the last few months weighed on you; as if there was someone who had taken all the weight off you. In fact, that someone actually existed; that someone wasn't marrying you purely for your own sake, but because he wanted to have you all to himself. Just you.

You felt the familiar, at the same time completely new pulsation between your thighs. You were barely awake and he was already affecting you – not even him in the flesh, but the thought of him. 

You propped yourself up on your hands, then pulled away sluggishly from the mattress, therefore awakening a dull, deep pain in your lower back. An uncontrollable gasp escaped your lips; one of your hands immediately found its way to that spot to prevent the discomfort from spreading throughout your body, but the pain stopped at that one point. You remembered perfectly well where it came from, and the memory made it pleasurable in some twisted way.

Having reached for your phone, resting on your bedside table, you checked the time – it was almost eleven. In doing so, you noticed several messages from Suzie, as well as Connie. Your sister was asking where you'd been, your friend – how the wedding had gone. In theory you knew the answers to both of these questions, but you couldn't give them. You replied to both messages with the same thing; that you would talk to them later.

You slipped out of bed, and, grabbing your bag, sneaked to the bathroom.

After the shower you searched through your bag for something appropriate, but the problem was that you had no idea you were going to Las Vegas, and the climate here compared to that in New York was dramatically different; so much so that you knew you would have fried in Vegas wearing the clothes you had packed. Still, you weren't going to walk around in nothing but your underwear; so you put on what you had, in the meantime making a note in your head that you needed to sort this out soon.

You knocked on the door of Bucky's temporary bedroom, waited a moment, then looked inside. The room appeared empty, giving you that familiar, unpleasant knot in your stomach. But there was his bag on the floor near the bed, so you told yourself that he didn't leave you at all. Even so, as you walked downstairs, that cool, throat-clenching anxiety lingered with you.

It disappeared when you reached the kitchen, but not because of relief – it was replaced by guilt, since you immediately assumed Bucky had run away again. But there he was, just by the counter; in shorts showing his long, muscular legs, a t-shirt with sweat stains visible on it, his breath uneven, his hair tied in a bun. He looked back at you, strands of his hair, which had managed to escape from under the hair tie, were sticking to his face, reddened from the effort, shiny from sweat. His lower lip wore the mark of your bite – a small wound, darker than the rest of his pink mouth. 

“You awake,” Bucky remarked, walking over to the fridge. He grabbed a small bottle of water and almost completely emptied it with only a few sips.

“Are you trying to get a heatstroke?” You asked with pretended curiosity, looking at him.

He rolled his eyes, a corner of his mouth lifted. “There are trees all around the neighborhood. I was safe,” he said. “Besides…” He shrugged casually. “I have really good stamina,” he stated,  and you knew that there was an innuendo beneath his words. And although the night before you didn't have much trouble touching him, now suddenly you couldn't look him in the eye any longer. In addition, you were still consumed by guilt. Bucky easily noticed that; all playfulness was gone from his face, and whilst a calmness appeared in return, you knew that it was of a rather negative nature. “What is it?” 

Ruining his mood was not in your intentions, but on the other hand, you had probably already messed it up. You wished you could hide your feelings from him. “I thought you ran away again. But just for a moment,” you clarified quickly. 

Bucky pursed his lips, but he wasn't angry at you. “Do you think you'll be able to forgive me? Not now, but... at some point?”

“I forgave you right away, Bucky,” you answered without the slightest hesitation. “But I need time to fully trust you.”

“As much as you want,” he said immediately, almost stepping on your last word.

Your mouth curved into a pale smile; you had the feeling that this morning could have been much more enjoyable, and you ruined it all. Even though you had every right to – your fears were justified, and Bucky didn't try to convince you otherwise. 

“Hey, umm…” you began. After all, you weren't going to let your shaky mood cast a shadow over the rest of the day. An important day. “There is a problem with my clothes. I haven't packed anything for this weather and-”

Bucky sized you up. “Wait here,” he ordered, then walked out of the kitchen.

Left alone, you looked around the room with no particular destination in mind. It was then that you noticed a small note attached with a magnet to the hood. You didn't want to read other people's memos, but your name caught your eye.

Y/N,

What do you say we spend your last hours of freedom together? Call me as soon as you are ready.

Marion.

Bucky returned to the kitchen, holding some neatly folded clothes. “Should be alright for now.” He handed you the things he brought, then glanced at the piece of paper between your fingers. “What’s that?” 

You looked instinctively at what he was also looking at, and at first you weren't sure what to answer; you hadn't even had enough time to think about Marion's proposition. “Oh, it’s just…” Having shrugged cluelessly, you raised the note to Bucky's eye level. 

A corner of his mouth lifted. “I'll have to call her. Tell her to deliver you to me in one piece.”

When Bucky went to take a shower, you first changed into what he had gotten you – shorts and a t-shirt; both of which belonged to him – and then you called Marion. After a brief, rather pointless conversation, she said she would send you the address where you were to meet. You grabbed the most necessary things, like your phone and your wallet with cash, credit cards, but most importantly documents, and ordered a cab. 

The address Marion had given you led you to a huge, jaw-dropping casino; the ones you had inherited from your father – although they didn't fall into the category of small, modest buildings – were nothing compared to this monstrous object. 

The cab stopped; you paid the driver and got out, lifting your head to continue staring at the building.

“Welcome to Black Velvet Casino.” You caught the sound of Marion's voice, and as you glanced in that direction, you noticed the woman standing at the entrance. “Come inside.” She gave you an encouraging nod, and as you walked to her, Marion put her arm around you. “Jamie told me to feed you, I heard you didn't have breakfast.”

You raised your eyebrows involuntarily. Although Bucky had said he would call his aunt, at the time you thought it was a joke; or that he would actually ask her to be careful with you. What you didn't expect, however, was for him to be overprotective even at a distance. 

You both entered the casino. Inside, dark walls, geometric patterns, especially on the marble floors, elegant vintage furniture and elements of gold dominated. All these pieces seemed to be typical of art deco.

“So, it's your casino?” you asked, unable to stop yourself from constantly looking around, absorbing the details you were discovering.

Marion, leading the way to the restaurant inside the casino, turned to gaze at you. “It belongs to Jamie.” She beamed at you, a satisfied, slightly proud smile on her face. “I just run it. It's hard to have total control of the business in Vegas when you live in New York.”

Your brows drew together. “Yes, that’s right…” you answered rather automatically, half-consciously. You didn't have the slightest idea why the fact that Bucky owned such a huge, beautiful casino had left you in such a daze. Maybe because he wasn't bragging about his wealth when asking you to marry him? Maybe because he didn't have to have it all to sweep you off your feet?

While you ate breakfast – barely, and under your own duress since your stomach, due to the sudden stress of the wedding, refused to accept any food at all – Marion absorbed one bloody mary, explaining that it was, after all, some sort of vegetable portion anyway. Towards the end, she ordered one for you and another for herself to keep you company in sipping your drink. However, the loneliness wouldn't stop you from drinking – your stomach was more than happy to open up to some alcohol.

After the meal, you and Marion hit a few places from Marion’s intangible list of things to do before the wedding.

First, shopping – you supplied yourself with a couple of summer dresses, among other things, as well as something for your Las Vegas wedding. You didn't want to look completely traditional; it didn't do you any good the first time. You bought the shortest white dress you could find – with long, flared sleeves and an open back. You completed the whole thing with flesh-tone fishnet tights, sparkling because of small rhinestones here and there, high heels and short, tacky veil that cost you five dollars. 

Then, as a wedding gift, Marion took you to a luxury spa for a massage, a series of masks and other treatments for your skin, a manicure and pedicure. All topped off with a glass of champagne. Only in your case; Marion, on the other hand, drank at least three, and you were hugely impressed by the fact that she didn't seem to be at least tipsy.

It's been a long time since you've experienced those two things at the same time – rested and peaceful both physically and mentally.

In the meantime, Bucky texted you to meet him at the address he had sent you, and to let him know when you would be getting into the cab. So you did; immediately after thanking Marion for the whole day and getting yourself a transport. 

Even though you were already about to get married for the second time - if the situation a few days ago could be described as such – the seriousness of it was starting to overwhelm you. Mainly because you were left alone and had no one to distract you from all those stressful thoughts. You didn't even know how long you had been clutching the fabric of your short summer dress in your hands, but it wrinkled at that particular spot. 

After the driver made you aware that you had arrived at the location, you paid for the ride, then left the car and your attention was drawn to the nearest building – a Marriage License Bureau sign stretched above its entrance. 

“Are you lost, ma’am?” 

You immediately turned your gaze towards the voice – you only recognised it after a second. As you got out of the cab, you didn't even think about where Bucky was; you didn't look for him, you didn't think of texting him to ask where exactly you were going to meet. And he found you, or rather he waited for you to find him – standing with his back up against one of the pillars, he was just finishing a cigarette. Apart from a smirk, there was a kind of lazy amusement on his face.

You approached him with a few, almost wobbly steps, his eyes bored into you. “How long have you been waiting here?”

“Not too long.” Bucky put out the cigarette on the edge of the dumpster, then threw the stub away. “You're nervous,” he remarked, tilting his head slightly to the side. Usually his ability to read your emotions was something you admired, but you knew that this time you were practically radiating stress.

“You are not?” 

Bucky shook his head; unlike you, he oozed calm. “One of us has to stay sane.”

“Oh, and it has to be you, poor thing?” You raised your eyebrows in pity, to which he nodded confidently. You sighed heavily, turning more serious. “How do you do it..? How do you manage to stay calm?”

Bucky was silent for a moment.

“I don't have that feeling anymore that I have to do it; that I have to marry you. I mean, I have to,” he clarified. “But because it's the only way to have you around. And I want you around, so it's like I want this marriage, huh?” He gave you a half-smile.

You looked away, smiling too; not knowing why, you felt a little shy, a little intimidated by the extent to which he was confident in his decision. 

“Do you want me around?” he asked, and you immediately turned your gaze back to him. “It's your last chance to escape.”

You both knew that there was no better candidate in the whole deal - you didn't think you would have met someone who was as agreeable and respected you as much as Bucky. Bucky, on the other hand, couldn't allow you to be given to someone else; he was too possessive of you. You were also both aware of each other's reasons, and while you might have been pleased with his, Bucky should have felt offended, being anything but the best choice among really average candidates. But he didn't feel offended; you sensed he didn’t.

“Of course I want you around.”

“Then let's go,” he said, smiling. You have probably never seen him so relaxed before – his attitude was somewhat encouraging. “I promise it won't hurt.”

Bucky was right – it didn't hurt.

On that day you were one of the really few couples who applied for a marriage license, so the whole process took a little over fifteen minutes. If someone had told you that a few months ago, you wouldn't have believed it – you wouldn't have believed that a man who shied away from marriage, who was only supposed to help you find a suitable husband, was about to become one himself. Moreover, with a smile on his face, not a look of terror in his eyes. Because that's exactly what he looked like when he held in his hands the document allowing you to get married – in addition to this constant, unrelenting calm, he seemed to feel relieved. You felt it too; you could finally breathe, since not only were you marrying a friend and ally, but you were going to be safe from now on; just like your father's business.

Once you were back at Marion's house, you each holed up in your own bedroom. On your bed were the bags from today's shopping; Bucky's aunt had promised to deliver them home so you wouldn't have to drag them everywhere with you. You laid everything out on the bed – dress, tights, shoes, veil – and looked at all these things. Preparing at the Barnes house under Winnifred and Rebecca's eye had not been a particularly traumatic experience, but now you felt more at ease. Maybe it wasn't so much the fact that you were on your own, but the whole atmosphere? The lack of forcing that Bucky mentioned?

You took another shower, rubbed some lotion on your legs, dried your hair and did some light makeup – it was far too hot for thick layers of foundation or eyeshadow. Besides, Bucky saw you without all that and didn't run away. Well, he did, you thought, but he came back after all.

The open back didn't allow for the presence of a bra, so you only put on your pants – not as stunning as before, but since you were prepared the first time and it was the groom who failed, you now felt completely blameless. Then you slid the fishnets on your legs, gently put on your dress so as not to leave any makeup smudges on it, and with the lack of a big mirror, looking at yourself from above had to be enough. And you were starting to get nervous again, but had already accepted that this was perfectly normal.

You slipped the high heels on your feet, grabbed the veil, then left the room. As you walked down the stairs, as a precaution, you kept your hand on the railing in case you were to twist your ankle in those shoes. Bucky had obviously heard your footsteps, because when you were halfway down, he appeared in the hall. You were able to observe the exact moment when his face took on a soft, slightly amazed expression; his lips almost parted and his breath trapped still in his chest as he watched your every move carefully. You grinned radiantly at him, stopping a few steps before reaching the floor. 

He was again wearing a black suit, a black shirt and a black tie, all of which made him radiate an almost crushing power, an extremely strong energy. Even if he seemed to have forgotten the whole world around him.

Bucky approached the stairs slowly; he breathed hard, blinking hurriedly as if he had just been hit on the head. “I could marry you everyday,” he said, without taking his eyes off you; his gaze wandered all over your body, over every detail.

“We're on the right track,” you remarked, allowing yourself a little pinch. After all, you were getting married for the second time in less than a week. 

Bucky chewed on his bottom lip, the sheer tenderness left in his eyes. He smiled softly. “Will you really be all mine? Just mine?” he asked surprisingly quietly.

“If you want,” you replied just as gently, and Bucky's mouth stretched into a wider, slightly teasing smile. He held out his hand to you, and as you took it, then stepped completely down the stairs, Bucky brought your hands to his lips and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles.

While you had been spending the day with Marion, Bucky had been arranging the place where you were to be married. You wanted as close to the date as possible, so it was decided on a small, definitely tacky, but at the same time charming to a fault chapel. Bucky didn't use his influence to get a better venue somewhere else – he may have been a ruthless gangster, heir to the throne of the underworld kingdom, but he wasn't a cold-hearted bastard, and as long as someone else wanted to get married, he wasn't going to disturb anyone. Besides, you didn't need royal conditions and special treatment.

The floor was covered with concrete, the walls were painted pink; there were artificial flowers and most of the space was taken up by cheap plastic chairs. Also pink. And soothingly empty.

A man in an Elvis costume guided you through the vows. And even though you didn't hear a word this time either, your lips moved in line with their content. But you were drowning – you were drowning in that gentle, happy smile of Bucky's; you were drowning in the way he held your hands the whole time – carefully, though he happened to squeeze them in a sort of nervous twitch. You were drowning in his eyes; in that stormy ocean that seemed uncommonly calm – very different from the first ceremony. 

Elvis let Bucky kiss you and all you could think about was that you were married. For real. And if he decided to run away now, he would still be your husband. 

But he didn't run away; he didn't even look like he was going to run away. He carefully cupped your face, his fingers slipped under your jaw. He smiled at you again with that striking gentleness of a man who might as well have loved you, then placed a cautious kiss on your lips. However, he immediately deepened it and quickly ruined by smiling into your mouth. You smiled back, resting your hands on his. Soon after, he pulled away from you, grabbed one of your wrists and turned it, exposing the cut in your palm. He brushed it with his lips, just as he had the night before, but this time you knew it was with different intentions - to remind you that your blood was still his blood, and his blood was yours; that no matter what, no matter your feelings for each other, no matter the situations you would find yourselves in more than once, you were one; you belonged only to each other.

And then there was that mysterious, suspicious smirk on Bucky's face. In the blink of an eye, he threw you over his shoulder, in the process probably showing Elvis your underwear, and headed for the chapel exit, carrying you – unconcerned in any way; giggling like a teenage girl.

“You didn't mention you have a casino,” you said as the car slowed down in front of the Black Velvet, then turned into the underground parking lot. “So big and beautiful casino,” you added.

“I don't like to brag about all the big and beautiful things I have.” He glanced at you meaningfully. You rolled your eyes, nevertheless unable to hold back an amused smile. “I guess it just never came up,” he answered a little more seriously, shrugging. He turned off the engine, then focused his gaze completely on you.

“You're right,” you agreed. “We were always busy only with my problems.”

“Hey.” He carefully hooked his fingers around your chin, stroked it with his thumb. “From now on, there won't be any problems. Okay?”

It wasn't that simple, there was no way to avoid problems, not in your world. But in that moment Bucky was so convincing you couldn't argue.

“Okay,” you whispered.

You got out of the car, Bucky took your luggage and then you went to the elevator and it took you to the lobby. Bucky led the way to the hotel reception.

“Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes.” The young woman behind the counter spoke. “I mean, Mr. Barnes and Mrs…-” She glanced nervously at the computer screen. Bucky looked at you unsurely, as if he didn't know if calling you that way bothered you. 

“Yes,” you said hurriedly, not wanting to keep the receptionist in an awkward position. “Sorry, I was just... thinking.” You gave the woman an apologetic smile.

“A honeymoon suite, is that correct?”

“Yeah,” Bucky answered.

The receptionist typed something on the computer, then handed Bucky a key and wished you both a pleasant stay. You were going to ask Bucky to give you your bag, as you could, after all, carry it yourself, but you closed your mouth faster than you opened it when a loud roar reached you: BUCK!

A man you didn't know was heading towards you, but it seemed he wasn't as unknown to Bucky; anyway, probably everyone there knew Bucky Barnes.

“Who are you hiding there, Buck?” he asked. You leaned out from behind Bucky's back and stood right next to him. The man sized you up with a gaze so disgusting you had to stick your eyes somewhere on the floor. “Aren't you going to introduce me?” 

“No.”

“Is this your new toy? Since she doesn't have a name…” He raised his eyebrows significantly. Bucky clenched his jaw and let out a heavy breath through his nose; he'd lost any remaining patience, if he had any at all. “Listen, do you fancy a little poker game?” The man was not giving up. You supposed it was most likely the alcohol he had consumed that was blinding him to Bucky's anger.

“Yes, actually, I do,” he replied. Your forehead furrowed as you looked at him. Was he really going to play poker now? “Natalie,” he turned to the receptionist, putting your luggage on the counter in front of her. “Have somebody take this to my room,” Bucky said, and when Natalie nodded, he shifted his gaze to you. An apologetic, affectionate gaze; for although he had just emanated anger, he couldn't direct it at you. “Wait for me there, okay? I'll be with you in a minute.”

And then you watched as, clenching and relaxing his hands, he walked away with a man whose name you didn't even learn.

The honeymoon suite was larger than you'd expected. As in the rest of the casino, or at least the part you had seen, dark colors prevailed there; the navy blue walls were brightened up by the wallpaper behind the bed; the pattern was like golden peacock tails; gold sconces were placed here and there, in case the crystal chandelier couldn't handle all that darkness.

You walked up to a huge window overlooking the city. There have been times when you have preferred your own company, but this evening was not one of them. Was this what Bucky meant when he said he wasn't right for marriage? That he would always choose fun and the company of his buddies over his own wife? But you knew him – maybe not inside out, but well enough to know that he wasn't happy to leave you. Maybe he owed something to that man?

Hearing the door open, you creased your forehead. At first you thought it was room service, but you doubted they would have entered without knocking or any other warning. You also doubted that it was Bucky – after all, it had been about fifteen, twenty minutes at most. You moved tentatively towards the door, leaving the bedroom area. You were wrong – it was Bucky, but he looked a little different. You couldn't tell how different at first, but something was definitely off.

“Did you win?” you asked, watching him with your arms crossed. He was standing by the minibar, preparing a drink, but having caught your voice, he looked over his shoulder. 

“Thought you were taking a shower. Or something,” he said. Three ice cubes dropped into a wide crystal glass clinked. “Want one..?”

You expected an explanation. Any kind of explanation. But you were aware that Bucky was not effusive. “Sure.” You sighed quietly and walked closer. As Bucky handed you the glass, you noticed his bruised, bloody knuckles. And it was also then that it occurred to you what was wrong – his clothes seemed to be slightly wrinkled. “What happened?”

Bucky let out a heavy breath but said nothing; instead, he occupied himself with preparing another drink, this time for himself.

“Jamie.” Your voice was soft; you knew you wouldn't convince him to speak with hostility and determination. One of your hands touched his shoulder affectionately; he immediately turned his gaze to it, possibly even to the engagement ring around one of your fingers. “What happened?”

He put down the ice tongs and looked at your face; without taking his eyes off yours, he reached for your hand. He tied his fingers around your wrist and pulled it away from his arm only to close your hand in his. He stroked the top of your hand with his thumb, and you were forced to put your glass down to avoid dropping it.

“That guy, Loonie,” he began. He clenched his jaw helplessly before continuing: “I wanted him to lose some cash first, so I could buy you something pretty. Compensate that you had to meet him.�� He smiled without any enthusiasm. “And then I was going to knock his fucking teeth out for running his mouth left and right. But by the time we got to the table, he called my wife a nice piece of ass, so it went faster than I hoped,” he stated emotionlessly, shrugging. “I'm sorry I left you,” he added more gently. “But I couldn't let him walk around and talk shit like that.”

“Bucky…” you whispered, slipping your hand out of his grasp and placing them both on his cheeks. “We need to work on communication, okay? I need to know more about what's going on inside your head.”

Bucky watched your face with heavy breathing; he paused to completely when you touched his face, so now he had to catch up. “I want to kiss you,” he confessed, sending a hot shiver along your spine.

You wanted that too – you wanted him – so you saw no reason why you should make him wait any longer. You moved your hands down to his neck and pulled him closer, making your lips collide. Bucky tightened his fingers on both sides of your body, holding your hips right against his, and he pushed against you enough that you had to lean back. He wasn't pouring the same hunger onto you as he had the night before – now you could feel the need he'd mentioned on your lips, but also the need to take care of you, to hide you from the world. 

Without taking his mouth off yours, he straightened up carefully; one of his arms went around your back, the other under your thighs, but as he lifted you up, it slid under the bend of your knees. He carried you back to the bedroom area, put you down on the bed, and unlike the previous time, you refused to let him move away.

“I'm not going anywhere.” Bucky placed a soft kiss on your forehead and stepped back a bit. 

You sat up in the middle of the big bed, covered with a dark satin bedspread, and lifted your gaze to Bucky. His fingers nimbly undid one shirt button after another, revealing more and more of his naked torso. Your throat dried up again at the sight; you wanted to touch him, or help him take off his clothes faster; you wanted to take off your own, but you were unable to move - you stared at Bucky with fascination and slight insecurity.

The black shirt landed on the floor, right next to the jacket. Your eyes traced Bucky's shoulders, his arms tensing with every movement; and you stopped on his hands – beautiful hands that suffered, bringing justice to your case. He would never let anyone hurt you, not even with a wrong look or the bad words.

His pants fell to his ankles; he stepped out of them and climbed onto the bed, sitting right in front of you. Tentatively, you reached behind your back; you found the short zipper - because of your exposed back, you might as well have taken the dress off without unzipping it, but maybe subconsciously you wanted to buy yourself more time before baring yourself completely. 

You lowered your gaze, your cheeks burning. “Could you help me?”

“Unzip the dress..?”

“Take it off,” you corrected, a slight frustration in your voice.

“Y/N,” Bucky said calmly, lifting your chin for you to look at him. “We don't have to do this if you're not ready.”

“I am,” you protested. You were ready for him the previous night, but then your head was occupied with something else; you didn't have that sober realization that Bucky would see you naked any minute. “It’s just… I'm a little nervous.”

“It's okay. I'm nervous, too.” He smiled softly. “Do you still want me to help you with the dress..?”

You nodded, swallowing hard. Bucky reached for the fabric on your shoulders and slowly, delicately pulled it down, exposing your breasts. He let out the air that had accumulated in his lungs, blowing a cool breath over them; brushing your heated skin, your hardened nipples.

“I see no reason to be nervous here,” he claimed, lifting his eyes to yours. “You are the prettiest girl I've ever seen.”

You blushed, rolling your eyes. “That’s not true.”

“And how would you know?” He raised his eyebrows. “You have a beautiful body, I promise. Let me show you.” He reached to your wrists and embraced them carefully, then directed your hands to your chest; he placed your hands on your breasts, covering them with his own. He tightened his fingers so that you did the same – so that your palms squeezed your own breasts. “Feel that? Feel how beautiful it is?” Bucky asked in a whisper, and you parted your lips slightly to breathe. Without taking his hands off yours, he slid them lower; over your ribs, stomach and hips, down to your thighs. As you looked away from what your hands were doing, you saw Bucky studying your face. You glanced at his lips and he leaned towards you and pushed against yours, therefore forcing you to lie down with his own body. 

He pulled your dress down over your legs and threw it somewhere on the floor, then your tights. Soon you felt the weight of his body on yours again – he was pleasantly closing you into some sort of safe space.

Bucky once again pressed a kiss to your lips with the longing you already knew, but also with the restraint. You didn't want anything to hold him back, so you immediately deepened the caress, invading between his lips. He murmured with delight, eagerly accepting your tongue, which effortlessly found his. They tangled together in the same wet, warm, sticky mess, but this time without the hunger there – you were giving each other time and space to explore your bodies; Bucky massaging your tongue with his pleasurably enough so that you couldn't be impatient. 

One of his hands cupped your breast, he stroked your hard nipple with his thumb and you gasped and twitched under his touch. He began to roll circles on it, pulled away from your mouth and went lower to grab the other of your nipples between his teeth. He bit it gently and then sucked on it, teasing this one of the many tender points with his tongue. Your breathing became uneven, shallow. You felt the throbbing heat between your legs, your pants soaked with your burning need to be filled.

Bucky placed several kisses below your breasts and on your stomach, leaving a wet trail down to your belly button. He hooked his fingers around the edge of your underwear and pulled it down; you lifted your hips to make it easier for him to get rid of that too.

You felt his heated, soft lips on the inside of one of your thighs. He sucked at your skin in that spot.

“Bucky,” you whimpered.

“Yeah?” he answered quietly. 

“I need you inside me. Now,” you said, not quite believing that this desperate request had left your mouth. But you were too dazed with desire, too smitten with everything he was doing to you. “Please.”

“You don't have to ask me for anything, baby,” Bucky protested immediately. He took off his underwear and towered over you again. You stared at the taut length between his legs.

Bucky grabbed his cock and, settling more comfortably between your thighs, directed it at your wet, waiting entrance; he brushed hard against it with the head, and you moaned uncontrollably. Soon you felt his tip thrust into you cautiously but firmly; Bucky groaned softly, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes. Yes,” You replied without thinking. Bucky thrust his hips against yours, sliding in full length. You parted your lips and a hollow breath escaped your throat.

He began to move; slowly and gently at first, so that he could study the new territory, and your every little reaction. You placed one of your hands on the nape of his neck, then slid your fingers into his hair and clenched them there, giving release to the pleasure rippling through your body. You looked into Bucky's eyes while doing so, and although your mind was working less and less consciously, you could see some nervousness in them.

“Jamie,” you said. Your voice was now a mixture of soft moans and heavy, shaky breaths. “Relax. Everything is..- f-fine,” you assured honestly. Bucky smiled crookedly, but without conviction. “Come here.” Your hand put a little pressure on the back of his neck, making him lean even closer to you. You kissed him as much as your parted lips would allow, your other hand clenching on his shoulder; your nails dug somewhere into his shoulder blade, and Bucky let out a quiet whimper. Immediately afterwards, he placed a few wet, sloppy kisses on your cheek, and his movements quickened – still not very rapid, but his dick was rubbing against your walls, stretching you again and again, bringing almost overwhelming pleasure. 

You could feel his hot breath on the side of your face as he moaned softly directly into your ear – something you would never expect from him, but the sounds only intensified the sensations. That was enough for you to reach orgasm – just listening to the evidence of the pleasure he was taking from your body.

You couldn't bear it any longer. You wanted the whole act to last for an eternity, but the built-up tension in your lower stomach had to explode eventually. Your head tilted back, your back detached from the mattress, arching; your whole body stiffened, paralyzed by the satisfaction spilling everywhere. Only after a moment were you able to let out a few shallow, quick breaths that had previously been stuck in your throat. 

Bucky pressed his mouth to yours again; first he could barely kiss you; dazed by the sensation, and then his lips parted over yours, making you breathe only each other's air; your breath belonged to him, and his breath was yours and yours alone. 

Bucky's body tensed as well; he froze in place, letting out a raspy grunt. He closed his eyes, and you watched his face flush with relief. You placed your hands on his cheeks and stroked the rough, heated surface. Bucky looked at you sleepily.

“Hi,” you whispered, giving him a gentle smile. He returned the gesture, but much more lightly.

“Hi,” he answered in the same tone, leaning over to kiss your lips again. Then he went back to resting on his elbows, without taking his eyes off your face, and with a caution still unfamiliar to you, he brushed a few strands of hair away from your forehead.

“Wasn't it too vanilla for your taste?” you asked suddenly.

Bucky furrowed, smiling with hesitation. “What?” he snorted. 

“You know, vanilla in a way-”

“Yeah, I know what it means.” He slid out of you, making you flinch slightly, then collapsed into the spot beside you. A sudden, uncomfortable coldness washed over your body, so you reached for the edge of the satin bedspread and covered yourself with it. 

Bucky turned his head so he could look at you. He reached out and brushed his knuckles against your cheek. “I don't know what you like. I didn't want to be too rough with you, didn't want to hurt you,” he said. “But we'll work on that. Figure it out.”

“I'm open to everything.” You shrugged. Bucky laughed quietly.

Holding the bedspread over your breasts, you sat up. “I need a shower.” You sighed. Looking around the bed, you realized that you were unlikely to be able to wrap yourself in the bedspread and take it to the bathroom.

“Do you want me to close my eyes?” Bucky asked; he was not mean or even biting, there was a sincere wish in his voice to make every little step easier for you. Nevertheless, he smirked with soft amusement, putting you in a somewhat better mood as well.

“You don’t have to.” You let go of the fabric, but immediately crossed your arms over your chest, covering your breasts.

“Alright, I'm not looking.”

When you glanced at him, his eyes were indeed closed. You grinned to yourself, got up from the bed, and, having grabbed your bag, snuck into the bathroom.

It was something completely new – being touched by him in that way. Before, he had seemed to be cold, rough, maybe even indifferent to you, but for some time now you had the opportunity to get to know his softer, vulnerable side. You knew that he was caring, but you suspected until now that this had a kind of sterile, professional dimension. Now you saw it in a slightly different light. 

While Bucky was in the shower and you in bed, you decided to text Suzie. You exchanged a few messages, but in the end you didn't reveal to her exactly where you were and why. You got the impression that Bucky had made an effort to make it a secret, so you weren't going to reveal it. At the same time you were texting with Connie, or rather sent her an emoji of a ring, a chapel and a bride. In response, you received an eggplant with a question mark, and although you snorted with laughter, you decided to leave it on read. 

You lifted your eyes from the screen, hearing the click of the bathroom door – in nothing but his briefs, Bucky ran his fingers through his damp hair. You had seen more, much more, but you were still impressed by the sight.

He slipped under the covers and you put the phone down on the bedside table, then adjusted your pillow so you could lie down. As you did so, you were overwhelmed by a tiredness you hadn't felt before – all the emotions of the day had sucked all the energy out of you. On the other hand, you again were a little anxious about sleeping in one bed with Bucky.

“You okay?” he asked as if he was reading your mind.

“Yeah,” you lied smoothly. “Goodnight,” you added, plastering a slight smile on your face, and turned your back to him. 

“What are you doing?” The harmless amusement rang in his voice again.

“I don't want you to watch me sleep. It's… You know.”

He didn't say anything. What you received in response was the rustling of the bedding and the mattress sinking beneath you. Bucky lay down right behind you, pressing his body against your back, and carefully put his arm over your waist, leaving it near your stomach. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Great,” he replied, then let out a heavy breath, tickling your bare shoulder.

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

taglist: @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446 @learisa @sjsmith56 @aya-fay @hhiggs @wishingwell-2 @buckysgirl01 @emily-roberts @prettylittlepluviophile @leaaa008 @itvy5601 @melsunshine @pattiemac1 @marvel-fandom23 @rabbitrabbit12321 @xsecretsirenx @heyyitsreign @xhollycowx @samfreakingwinchester @thrnlvr @samjuarezzz @loustan90 @kandis-mom @abaker74

[sillygoose067]

Charles’s Angel(s)

Ch.25

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Charles wakes up with a throbbing headache. “Ugghh”

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

He looks over, and there you are, sitting with a book in your lap, hair up in a messy bun, glasses perched on your beautiful nose. He reaches for you, managing to push the book off your lap and pull his head in it place. Surprised at the action, you let Charles lay there, his head resting on your lap. 

“How many drinks did I have last night? I know I’m not a lightweight.”

You chuckled and ran your fingers through his hair, scratching his aching scalp and massaging his temples. “Not much, but Soju is much stronger than you’d think and it hit after you’d had too many.”

He lets out a groan of understanding and his eyes flutter shut again. Your fingers stop as well. 

“Nooo”, he moans as if in pain. “Don’t stop, please. Keep going. Reminds me of when my mother did this when I was little”, he half mumbles. 

You resume with a smile. Then, the events of last night come back to you. Should you bring it up? Would he even remember? Was this too fast? Too late? Just right?

Charles, somehow sensing your tension, sits up with a pained groan and opens his eyes. “Hey. What’s on your mind?”

“Hmmm?”, you release your bitten lip and look down at him. Sighing, you decided to confront him. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

You expect him to say no, shake his head. His gaze meets yours guiltily. “Believe it or not, Ange, I do.”

You release a great, big breath. Oh god. He remembers. What do I do now?

He sits up and grabs your chin so you look him in the eye. “I remember everything and Chéri, I meant every word. Every. Word.” “I think I’m finding more and more reasons to fall in love with you every single day” His thumb caresses your cheek. You blink back tears. “And I heard what you said last night too.”

Your heart stutters. Fuck. 

He leans in and kisses your lips softly. “Thank you so much for entrusting your heart to me, Chéri. I know it is not easy, especially with this being one of your many firsts. And I know that I am not easy to love, either”. Another kiss, one you return actively this time. “So thank you”. Kiss. “I swear, that I will do everything in my power to ensure its safekeeping.”

By now, you’ve climbed into his lap, and are returning his kisses in full. Your heart is about to burst for this man. Because of this man. Into this man. 

He cups the back of your head and tilts it back. Slowly, he begins to trail his kisses down your jaw, and you open up your neck for him. He approaches the blank, pristine skin reverently. You let out a whimper of satisfaction, craving his lips on you again, and with one final kiss on your swollen lips, he moves onto your neck, marking and teasing the delicate skin there. Inciting moans and whimpers of delight. Gasps of surprise. 

Once you’ve had enough, you grasp his face in both hands and bring it back up to you lips, hands finding their way into his hair. Wanting to grant him the same pleasure, you begin to trace kisses from his defined jaw. Down to his neck, under his ear. Nipping, breathing into his ears, sucking on the creamy olive skin nearby, anywhere your lips and tongue could reach. You feel something poke you from below, and Charles pulls you off his neck in a second.

Breathing hard. His dark, dilated pupils eye you up and down. Then he smirks. “Sweetheart, you sure are a quick learner. Any longer and I would have cum in my pants right here.”

You blush at his filthy language. Rushing off his lap, you fetch him some hangover pills and a glass of water. 

Gratefully, he takes it and finds instant relief. Resting his head against your shoulder, he nuzzles into your neck. 

“Do we have any plans today?”, he mumbles into your skin. 

Running your fingers through his hair, you hug his body close to yours. “Other than packing our bags and bidding farewell to our friends, nothing really”, you hum into his hair, leaving a kiss there. 

…

After meeting up with Stray Kids, leaving with hearts full, eyes teary, and arms full of gifts, you and Charles finally make it onto the plane. 

Sighing, you plop into the seat. Charles follows after you, and then abruptly turns his head to face you, resting on the headrest. Smiling he grasps your hand and places a kiss on it, rubbing a thumb over the skin. 

That’s how you fall asleep.

[glystenangel]

My Treat

Stoner/ServiceDom!Choso x Afab!Reader Oneshot (College AU)

tags/warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, substance use, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), cuddles, premarital hand holding, gratuitous fluff, someone creams their pants not saying who but it’s choso, i reiterate choso's bond with his brothers quite a bit bc i think it's sweet and integral to his character

~4.8k

summary: choso smokes you out and eats you out like the good stoner service dom he is

thanks for reading and enjoy<3

“Done.” Choso shut his laptop, and you let out a cheer.

“Thank god!” You collapsed in your seat, resting your cheek on the cool surface of the library table. You two had been working tirelessly for weeks, and now that your project was submitted you could feel your youth returning and the weekend calling.

Another student madly typing away next to you rolled their eyes, shushing you and you whispered a hushed ‘sorry!’ before sitting back up to cradle your chin in your palm. Choso had started crossing things off of the post-it note stuck onto the top of his laptop, and you discreetly admired the way his hand tensed around the pen and his concentrated gaze. You had been assigned to be each other’s project partners for the latter half of the semester, and even after working together for all that time you weren’t sure if Choso realized in the slightest how big of a crush you had on him. Prior to the project, you had been sitting next to each other since the first day of classes, but he came across as quite reserved and hadn’t seemed open to conversation until you became project partners. It was almost like he preferred not to talk unless he had to. 

Nonetheless, the quiet confidence he carried himself with only made you more curious, and you always stole glances at your classmate. He had strong eyebrows that framed sharp, dark eyes underlined by a black mark across his defined nose bridge. This accentuated his already striking features, and you always imagined running your thumb over it, even now as you stared at his pensive side profile.

Choso also had a very unique style, his six foot tall form often draped in dark colors while sporting heavy boots and his jet black strands pulled into spiky buns at the top of his head. On rare occasions he would wear his hair down and it went past his shoulders, framing his stoic expression in a way that made your breath catch. Besides being obnoxiously attractive, he was always smelling clean and woodsy as well. Like the almost metallic smell of rain on stones and pine trees after a storm. 

“Now we just have the final left.” He said, clicking his pen derisively.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. This professor’s out to kill.”

He nodded in agreement, rubbing at an eye. Choso seemed to don a permanently tired expression on his face due to the firm set of his jaw and the perpetual bags under his eyes. You don’t think he slept much, if at all. 

If one day you hadn’t caught him on the phone while waiting for you in front of the campus library, you would have guessed he never smiled either. But there he was, a small smile like a sliver of sunlight playing across his handsome features as he was shaking his head at the other person on the line.

“One of my little brothers.” He had explained once he had gotten off the phone, opening the door for you and jutting his head inwards, “Ready to head in?”

You gradually began piecing together what Choso was like as you worked on your assignment together, but he was still a mystery to you for the most part. From what you did know he seemed dedicated to his family and had a lot of drive, with pursuing a degree in hematology on top of being in the school’s nationally ranked martial arts team. He also enjoyed drinking strong coffee, always grabbing you a cup if he knew you would be meeting up early in the day, though more sugary or at least less caffeinated than his own.

“How are you going to celebrate us being done with that cursed assignment?” You asked, packing up your things and crumpling up papers that were no longer needed.

“Mmm, not sure. What about you?” 

The paper ball you had aimed at the nearby wastebasket bounced off the rim.

“Damn, missed. Wait Choso, do you smoke?”

“Yeah.” He got out of his seat, picking up the paper ball and tossing it into the trash.

“Really? I thought you had to take drug tests for the martial arts competitions.”

“We don’t have any more competitions until next semester, so it’s okay for now.” He supplied, coming back to tuck in his chair.

“I knew it! We should have a smoke sesh.” You slid your chair back into the table as well and joined Choso as he made his way to the library’s exit.

“Sure, I got some stuff at my place. You wanna come?” He glanced down at you, slowing so you could keep up with his long strides.

Your heartbeat accelerated at the invitation. You usually met up at the library or at your apartment since it was closer than his, and both were usually full of other students or your roommates constantly popping in and out. Now that you thought of it, you had never really hung out with him alone unless slaving over the project was involved. 

You considered your answer for only a second, “I’m down! What’s your address?”

________________

Once you had parked, you found Choso waiting in front of his apartment complex.

“Hey again.” You waved, running to where he stood, “You didn’t have to wait for me, I have your apartment number.”

He turned on his heel once you made it to his side, “Don’t say that. Of course I did. Come on, it’s this way.”

You blushed at his words, following him as he led you up a flight of stairs and towards his apartment door. You could see his broad shoulders and bulky back muscles shifting underneath his shirt as he walked up the stairs, and even though it had been your idea, you suddenly felt yourself becoming nervous at being truly alone with him for the first time.

Once he unlocked the door, you were met with a tidy and surprisingly well-decorated space. Most of his furniture was wooden and he had a decently sized TV in his living room with a glass coffee table nestled at its front. A multitude of photographs were hung up above the couch and stuck to the fridge, and he had a potted plant that vined across the edge of his kitchen countertop. 

“Nice place.” You commented sincerely, taking off your shoes and setting your bag on the small dining table as you walked in.

“Thanks, make yourself at home. I’m gonna grab the stuff.” He disappeared into a room to the left of the living room, and you decided to sit on the couch and wait for him.

It was a dark gray color and the fabric was canvaslike, but there were some fluffy pillows and a blanket that made up for the scratchy material. You settled yourself atop the cushions, looking at the framed photos with interest. Choso was widely smiling in each one, usually off to the side among a group of boys you assumed were his brothers. He would often have his arm wrapped around their shoulders and tugged towards him, or he would stack the youngest ones on his shoulders. If they weren’t formally posed together in a dojo or restaurant, the images were candids of the brothers doing some adventurous activity like white water rafting or eating churros at an amusement park. They all seemed very close, and you touched the corner of one frame where Choso seemed especially ecstatic while lifting one of his little brothers into the air as the younger boy joyfully waved around a silver medal.

“Alright.” Choso had come back, placing some glassware, packets of rolling paper, and pristine jars of kush in front of you.

“Ugh, I’ve so needed this.” You took in the array with excitement.

“Tell me about it.” Choso began unscrewing the lid to his grinder.

“Need any help?” You picked up a jar, reading the label and twisting open the cap to smell the contents.

“You’re good, let me do it.” He insisted, taking the jar from you with care, “You always gave me snacks and stuff when I was over at your place, so I got you. I’ll order takeout once we finish smoking too. My treat.”

You put your hands over your heart and looked at him, not knowing whether to be touched or impressed, “Are you serious?”

He rolled his eyes as he started packing a bowl, pausing to give you one of his rare smiles, “Just sit there, okay?”

________________

A couple of hours later, you were coming down from your high and stuffed with Thai food.

“That was the best mango sticky rice I’ve ever had. I’d go to war for…” You picked up the to go box and squinted, “Happy Elephant Thai. They are my gods now.”

“That’s the weed talking.” Choso placed a hand over the box’s lid, coaxing you to put it back down.

“That’s all me, I love mangoes.” You protested, setting down the box and reclining back into the couch.

You and Choso had elected to put on a movie, only to become so engrossed in conversation that it had long ended. The weed had made you both more open and talkative, and you had taken advantage of the effects to learn more about your crush without feeling your usual twinge of anxiety.

Choso remained calm as he answered your questions about his family, his hobbies, if he believed in aliens, what his favorite foods were, and what his childhood was like.

“I’m the oldest of ten brothers.” He had explained when you inquired about the pictures hung on the walls, “I’ve been taking care of them for as long as I can remember.”

“Is it difficult?”

“In some ways yes, in others no. They’re my entire motivation to be better, you know? Even when I make mistakes, I know that my failures will help them figure out what they want to avoid in their own lives. We learn from each other and live for each other. They’re honestly a part of me as much as I am a part of them. We fight sometimes, but forgiveness is always a given among brothers.”

You had known he was loyal to his family, but hearing how deep their bonds ran made you respect him even more. 

“You’re a good big brother.” You had commended, “Probably the best I’ve ever met.”

“I try.” He had nonchalantly waved off the sentiment, but you caught a glimpse of his nose scrunching with ill contained pride from the compliment as he looked away.

He had then asked you questions about yourself in return, and you felt more comfortable than ever with him. If anything, your crush was growing by the minute. It was like you had always been here, sharing his couch and dessert as you talked about everything and nothing at all. 

“Hey, you’re falling asleep.” He gently shook your knee.

“Am I?” You mumbled, pressing your cheek into the couch and hugging a pillow tighter to your chest.

“Yeah,” Choso yawned and stood up to stretch, “Fuck, I am too. Do you want to go hang out in my room? It’s more comfy.”

“Mhmm, just give me a sec.” You blinked with effort before sluggishly getting to your feet, “Okay, let’s go.”

He let out a small chuckle, “Here, hold my hand. We’re gonna get lost if neither of us can keep our eyes open.”

Choso extended his hand out to you, and you tentatively slid your hand into his. His hand was incredibly warm, and when he wrapped your hand in his it felt perfect, like his hand was meant to fit yours.

“Don’t let go.” He warned, tugging you along.

Adrenaline coursed through you, and you couldn’t ignore the sound of your heart beating rapidly in your ears or the pleasant feeling spreading across your chest as you both stumbled into his room.

His room was clean and matched what you imagined it would look like, a queen-sized bed was pushed to the corner and engulfed in white, fluffy linens. It was cradled in a black painted bed frame that seemed to be part of a set with the nightstand next to it. There was a large window with the blinds drawn behind his headboard and a desk in the other corner covered in textbooks and some martial arts club flyers neatly stacked along the edges. On his nightstand, there was another picture of his family, a brown glass ashtray stamped with a random seaside hotel logo, and his keys. 

Choso guided you to take a seat on the edge of the bed, and then began rearranging the covers and pillows so that you could both scoot yourselves against the headboard. You found yourself sitting closer to the wall on his left, propped up on pillows that carried his fresh scent and your shoulders and knees lightly brushing against his. You weren’t sure if anything could help calm your heart from the close proximity, and you could still feel the warmth of his hand inside your palm. Truthfully, being on his bed was probably the worst place to try and convince yourself that your crush on Choso wasn’t making your chest feel like bursting. Your cheeks tinged with heat at the thought of what he did, or who he did on this bed that you two were just casually sitting on top of.

“Are you still high?” He interrupted your thoughts, taking a lighter out of his nightstand drawer and lighting the joint he had tucked behind his ear.

“I’m more sleepy than high now.” You replied, reaching for the joint.

He gingerly passed it to you, exhaling away from you and his fingertips briefly touching yours.

Nearly translucent tendrils of smoke began curling themselves towards the ceiling as you both took turns smoking, and you began to feel the pull of your high on the back of your eyelids again. 

You gave Choso back the joint, shaking your head when he took a drag and tried giving it back to you.

“I’m feeling good where I’m at right now.”

“Okay.” He perched the joint against the edge of the ashtray, the embers still glowing. 

He let out one last sigh of smoke, and you watched the skin around his jaw tighten as he blew out the vapor, his Adam's apple bobbing in his neck. You swallowed thickly, clenching your thighs together.

“Hey, Choso?” 

“Hm?” He turned to meet your eyes and angled his head back into the pillows, crossing his arms behind his head.

“Can we cuddle?” You surprised yourself with the words and more began tumbling past your lips, “Sorry, I just- Being high makes me kind of-”

“Sure, come here.”

He sank down lower into his pillows, lifting his arms and beckoning you into his embrace. His t-shirt stretched enticingly across his strong chest, and the hem rose to reveal a peek at his densely packed abs and a happy trail that disappeared into his pants.  The sight made you bite your lip before you settled into his arms. Choso pulled you close to rest on top of him, securing an arm around your waist and placing the other between your shoulder blades as you contentedly buried your face into the nape of his neck. He safely tucked you against his frame, your legs tangling together as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Is this okay?” He murmured against your hair, and you felt your heartbeat pick up for what felt like the millionth time that day.

“Mhm, this feels…really good.” You quietly closed your eyes, savoring the warmth and the feeling of being held so intimately.

He started dragging his knuckles up and down your back, and shivers danced up your spine at the attentive motions. You reached up to return the favor, lightly scratching and massaging circles into the back of his neck. He instantly relaxed beneath your touch, the rise and fall of your chests syncing peacefully.

“You know, when I first sat next to you I had no idea we’d end up getting high and cuddling.” You softly laughed, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What do you mean?” Choso lowly chuckled, the reverberations of his voice tickling your ear.

You raised yourself onto your elbows, shyly drawing circles along his collarbone and avoiding his eyes.

“When we first met, I got the feeling that I annoyed you.”

His hands trailed up your body before sliding down to rest on your hips, “That’s funny, I only remember being nervous because I had seen you around and always thought you were pretty.”

You looked up in shock, “Wait what? Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“What’s understood doesn’t need to be said. It’s pretty obvious everyone thinks you’re beautiful. I didn’t think it would be news to you.” Choso shrugged, as if it was an undeniable fact.

Beautiful? Your heart swelled, and you kicked yourself for never saying anything to him earlier. Still, you hadn’t known what he was thinking.

“It’s news to me coming from you.” You muttered, warming when a grin graced his features.

“That’s my bad then, you’re right.” He seemed to consider his words before continuing, “You are beautiful. I like the way you think about things too. You’re really smart and it’s been fun spending time with you.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek to fight the smile threatening to break across your face, and you continued drawing shapes into his chest to ground yourself.

“Thank you, I feel the same way and…I think you’re beautiful too.” You finally said, peeking at Choso as his visage brightened from the compliment.

“Really?”

“Yeah, especially when your hair’s down. You’re very handsome.” You admitted, reaching over to lightly pull at the ends of one his hair bundles.

“I would put it down now, but I need it out of my face if something happens soon.”

“If what? Why not?” You tilted your head in confusion as he carefully removed his hands from you to relight the joint and take some more hits.

He blew a stream of smoke at the ceiling before placing the lighter back in the drawer and settling a hand into the curve of your waist, “I mean, we’re in my bed, we’re high. You’re looking very cute and I just have a feeling something might happen.”

The insinuation was becoming clearer, but you needed something more direct. Or even better, action. 

“Okay.” You said, intently staring at him as he smoked.

Choso inhaled deeply, studying you through the smoke as his eyes drooped further from his growing high.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

You swept your gaze down to his lips, “What’s understood doesn’t need to be said.”

“That so? Aren’t you clever?” He teased, smiling with the joint poised between his lips.

You dragged your gaze back to meet his through half-lidded eyes, still saying nothing.

Choso’s smile fell at your silence, and he reached his hand back to snuff out the end of the joint into the ashtray before leaning in close to you. He raised a couple of steady fingers to gently trace the idiosyncrasies of your face, delicately outlining the sides of your jaw, the corners of your eyes, and down your nose with loving detail. When he had gone over those areas to his satisfaction, he caressed your cheeks with featherlight touches until your eyes fluttered closed. A slow running of his hands through your hair made your entire body ease into him before he returned them to the sides of your face and pulled you into a breathtaking kiss.

His lips were achingly soft and chills rose from the back of your scalp as he deepened the kiss, your chest and stomach filling with butterflies when he rolled you onto your back and slotted his knee between your legs. Your tongues glided dreamily against each other, and you let out a whimper when he bit your bottom lip and began cascading urgent kisses down your neck.

“Choso.” You breathed, wriggling your hips as your core pulsed against his firmly pressing knee.

“I know,” He gave you another kiss, sighing and looking into your eyes with reverence, “Be patient, and let me know if you want to stop, okay?”

You nodded, and he started undressing you as he trailed kisses into the dips of your collarbone, audible moans escaping both of you as his lips warmed your skin.

He finally tugged your shirt off, unhooking your bra and kneading at the inviting swell of your tits with his hands before enveloping one of your nipples in his mouth and tweaking the other between his fingers. He wetly circled his tongue around, the sensitive peak perking against his tongue and making you whimper.

Choso licked at your supple breasts, roughly sucking choice areas and leaving love bites over your heart as you shakily held onto the back of his neck. He continued kissing downwards, growing more gentle when he reached your navel and the edge of your waistband.

“Can I take these off? Please.” He hooked his fingers into your pants, looking up at you earnestly and breathing hard. You could feel the heat of his needy exhales on your skin.

“Yes.” You quickly answered, and he removed the fabric with impatience.

He crouched down, steadying your hips with his hands as he delivered languid kisses along your inner thighs and pressed his lips and tongue against the dampening spot on your underwear.

Your breathing was increasingly erratic, and when he slid off your panties you shivered at the cool air hitting your leaking entrance.

Choso looked up at you as he delivered a long lick to the tender seams of your pussy, your precum slick against his tongue and a mewl leaving your lips at the sensation. You don’t think there was anything more seductive than seeing his eyes darken at your reaction. 

He gave you another eager lick that left you trembling, his voice coating with desire, “Pretty and sweet? Fuck.”

Choso’s swears became muffled as he delved back into your pussy, hungrily lapping at your folds and his nose brushing against your clit. He easily pulled your thighs apart, relishing the sticky spread of your lips. The veins in his arms rushed with adrenaline as he kept your hips pushed down onto the bed, and you groped at the sheets as he ate. Your whines were lost in the filthy sounds of his tongue fucking into your walls as far as he could reach, gulping down every excited thrust and letting your arousal thickly drip down his chin. 

He broke away to swipe at the mess on his jaw, “God, you taste even better than you look. I don’t know how that’s possible.”

There weren’t any more breaks after that, as if speaking or even breathing was far less important than being able to feel you writhing on his tongue and your thighs squeezing around his head. All you could hear was his insatiable pants against your pussy and your own wails brokenly repeating his name.

Choso moved to dig his fingertips into the plush flesh of your ass, anchoring himself as he indulged in the intoxicating wetness of your pussy. 

You wove your fingers into his hair, pushing him down and crying out when he began severely sucking your clit and making you buck hard into his face. 

“Oh my god, Choso. Eating my pussy so good. Love, love how your tongue feels in my pussy.”

Hearing your enthusiasm seemed to encourage him, and he hummed in response.

You gasped as he started swirling his tongue around the swollen nub, and you felt him slide two fingers inside of you. You pulsed exasperatedly around them, moaning when he began curling the pads of his fingers against your sensitive walls. Every swipe was exhilarating and left goosebumps on your skin. He still couldn’t seem to resist the urge to devour you, running his tongue over his fingers and trying to mash it into any space he could find. You sat up, desperately arching your hips into his fingers and tongue as you yanked at his hair to fuck your spit covered cunt harder. He readily met every pleading motion of your hips, a maddening push and pull that made tears spring into your eyes.

“Need to cum, Choso please.”

He reciprocated your urgency, alternating between sucking your clit and swirling the tip of his tongue around it as he inserted another finger into your needy pussy. You threw your head back at the pleasurable fullness, hips convulsing and your mouth dropping open in a nearly silent scream when Choso’s tongue began vigorously flicking at your clit and his long fingers stroked the insides of your pussy with a precise rhythm, deep and hard. The squish of his fingers and tongue echoing after his stifled groans made your drool dribble down onto your chest. Choso was utterly obsessed with savoring you by the mouthful, and you felt so close to breaking from his relentless endeavors to please you and memorize your flavor.

You could hardly breathe or think, losing yourself in every passionate and slippery surge of Choso’s tongue until you were sure you couldn’t deny him any longer.

“I’m cumming, Choso, I-” You could barely get the words out as pure pleasure overloaded your senses and the creamy cum of your pussy gushed onto Choso’s waiting tongue.

He slowly pulled his fingers out, gathering the remaining cum webbed between his fingers and vigilantly catching any stray drops threatening to trickle down your thighs. 

Choso gave your now dully throbbing pussy one last affectionate kiss before making his way back up to you.

He tenderly swept your hair out of your sweat sheened face, kissing your lips and allowing you to taste the sweetness of your climax. Honey dripped off his tongue, leaving you dazed and weak.

“Did that feel good?” He asked, scanning your face.

Your fucked out and blissful expression made him smile, “Mhmm.”

“Good, just wanted to make sure.” Choso combed his fingers through your hair, “Are you tired now?”

You nodded weakly, “But what about you?”

“I….finished when you did.” He rubbed the back of his neck, almost embarrassed, “You were making all those cute little noises and tasting so good I couldn’t help it.”

Your eyes shifted down to his pants, confirming there was a wet stain over his sizable bulge. The fact that eating you out enthralled him to that point filled you with adoration. You would do anything for him.

“Is it really okay?” You hesitated, your fingertips ghosting over his zipper before he intertwined your hand in his and kissed it reassuringly.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’m happy when you’re happy, we can sleep now if you’re tired.”

Tightness enveloped your chest and you wanted to cry from happiness, “But I like you.”

Choso let out a laugh, “I like you too. We have plenty of time though, and it can’t be helped if you’re tired.”

“Okay...” You acquiesced, and he kissed your forehead.

“Stay here, I’m gonna get you cleaned up and some clothes you can sleep in.”

He got up and upon his return, wiped you down completely with a warm towel and redressed you in a pair of his boxers and a flannel that he had grabbed from his closet. He had also cleaned himself up and changed out of his previous set of clothes, hair now loose around his neck and looking as handsome as ever.

“Hm, you look so much prettier than me in these.” More adoring pecks were bestowed to the crown of your head.

You had never felt so completely cared for.

“You’re so pretty,” You tapped his cheek and then at a spot on his chest, “Here, and here.”

Choso stared at you with his heart in his eyes, “Stop that.”

“You’re the prettiest, Choso.” You reiterated, sending him a coy wink and a soft tap on the nose.

He gathered you in his arms, covering your face in kisses until you were breathless from laughing and he had you pinned beneath him. 

“Enough, or I’m really going to fall for you.”

You peered up at him, “Would that be so bad?”

Choso thoughtfully rubbed his thumb across your cheek, “No.”

You placed a hand over his, your eyes shining as he drank in the sight of you. He seemed mesmerized by every curve and facet of your features, like tearing his vision away from you would be unthinkable. Criminal, even. He let out a defeated sigh, brushing the tip of his nose against yours and looking into your eyes.

“Who am I kidding? I’m fucked aren’t I?”

________________

End Notes:

Choso’s more introverted I feel, so I was like okay he doesn’t need to talk just eat hgjrfskd he just screams service dom to me i love that man 

Thanks for reading! <3

[raplinesmoon]

Connexion (KSJ x F!Reader)

pairing: CEO!Jin x brat!reader genre(s): pwp, smut (some floof at the end) au(s): sugar daddy au word count: 1.8k warnings: strip Mario Kart (you read that right), sexual tension, hickies, dirty talk, thigh riding, daddy kink, nipple play, exhibitionism, dom!jin with looong hairrrr,  Seokjin has a spending and lingerie kink, degradation, hair pulling, fingering, orgasm denial, hitting it from the back (protected sex), finger sucking, spanking, tit slapping, implied choking kink (it’s Jin duh), it gets very soft at the end (baby feels incoming) rating: 18+ (nsfw content above the cut)

summary: Stressed out and tired from your exams, you head to Jin’s place, hoping to get lucky. But he has other plans.

a/n: Seokjin was so rood at the concert this weekend and he’s just rood in general so I also decided to be rood hehe. I hope you enjoy!

listen to: connexion and windowsill by zayn

The stress of a tired, worn-down grad student who was in the midst of finals season was unmatched during this time of year. You sighed heavily – those undergrads had it easy compared to you, partying the night away with shots and showing up hungover. After a rough day, you wanted to let loose and have fun too. But you had other, more unconventional ways of doing so. 

You’d shown up at Jin’s this evening, hoping he’d be able to coax the stress out of you with some much-needed orgasms. His eyes widened in shock when he saw you at the door, inviting yourself in. As you disposed yourself of your heavy coat and shoes, you felt his eyes behind you trained on the swell of your ass in the pencil skirt you’d worn for a seminar presentation. Smirking to yourself, you felt your anxiety ease, hoping for a good time.

However, fifteen minutes later, you found yourself on Jin’s plush white Cloud couch, your plans overturned in a way you didn’t expect.

“Pick your player,” Jin hands you the controller, and the blaring tune of a synth coming from his surround sound speakers shocks you. Looking up at the screen, you go slack-jawed. The man had loaded up Mario Kart on his Switch. And he wanted you to play with him.

Your eyes meet his, and you try to look for any bags underneath them, any signs of fatigue on his flawless face. But no, he was smiling up at you, arms outstretched with the controller in hand, anxiously awaiting your selection.

Huffing, you take the controller from him, plopping down next to him on the couch. You could feel his warmth through the soft wool of his cardigan, and it only made you more needy, fingers itching to tear it off along with the shirt and tie he wore under, and feel his smooth golden skin against your palms. 

“Daisy? That’s a weak choice,” he snickers. “Especially when I’m playing Gold Mario.”

“We’ll see about that,” you scowl, competitive side coming out. Jin seemed in no mood to relieve you today. 

Jin studies you, hair mussed from your messy bun, eyes blazing with determination. The pouty expression on your lips was putting him on edge, and he’d be lying if he didn’t want to bend you over the couch and fuck you right then and there. But it was fun seeing you squirm, and he had a high score to beat. 

“Princess,” Jin’s voice drops low, and you feel a chill run up your spine. His warm breath fans over your neck, and you arch without him even asking. His hot lips press kisses up and down your neck, stopping to suck a few dark purple marks into your smooth skin. Your breath hitches, moan caught in your throat at the stimulation. You feel yourself grow wetter underneath your skirt as Jin’s lips continue to work up the side of your neck. He’s barely even touched you, but you know if his teasing touches continue, you’d leak all over his expensive couch. Smirking at your labored breaths, he continues upwards, tracing the shell of your ear with his tongue before biting down on your lobe, chuckling at the gasp that comes from you.

He retreats with a smirk, admiring your flushing figure and the pretty bruises that line your neck.

“Play fair and square for me, won’t you?”

Five bouts later, and you were ready to bite your fist. Jin had bested you every single time, even when it seemed like you had it in the bag. Worse still, you were still incredibly turned on from earlier, the damp pool in your panties only growing every time you looked over to see Jin lost in concentration, tongue poking out between his lips and the vein in his neck throbbing. 

To make it even worse, Jin was highly amused at your flustered state, doing everything he could to rile you up. Out of nowhere, you’d feel a hand on your thigh at the end of a race, or the light ghosting of Jin’s fingers along the side of your neck, lingering but never pressing down in the way you wanted him to.

Enough was enough. You threw the controller aside, climbing into Jin’s lap. Jin tried to look around you to focus on the screen, but froze when you began rutting against his thigh, feeling your arousal stain his slacks.

“Daddy,” you whispered in his ear, grabbing his hand to slide it up under your skirt. “I want you to play with me instead.”

Your fingers card through his hair, tugging on the strands that had grown longer recently. A deep sigh escapes his plush lips, and you see his throat bob as he swallows.

“You fucking brat,” he hisses, the loser theme playing from behind you. “Look what you did now.”

Biting your lip, you smirk back at him. 

“Oops.”

This was more like it. Still focusing on the game, Jin flexed his thigh, grazing your bare clit as you bounced back and forth on his legs, your soft moans providing an alluring backing track to the campy music of the game. He feels his cock stir underneath his slacks when you arch back against him, dropping your controller to pull at his hair behind you. Reveling in your distraction, he speeds past you to the finish line. 

“Another one lost,” he whispers. “Strip again for me.”

Unable to concentrate on anything but the feel of his hard muscle against your pussy, you nod absentmindedly, reaching up to undo the buttons of your dress shirt, throwing it off to join your discarded panties and pencil skirt in the corner.

“Fuck,” he groans, running his hands up your sides, stopping to cup your lace-covered breasts in his hands. “Agent Provocateur, isn’t it? I saw the charge on my card earlier this week.”

He thumbs at your nipples through the fabric, the swollen peaks stiffening when he tugs them with his fingers.

“You owe me a new pair of panties,” you whine, palming his cock through the heavy fabric of his slacks. 

“Whatever you say princess,” he responds, undoing the clasp and sliding the fabric off of you, leaving you completely bare and rutting against him.

“Daddy, I want you,” you sigh. “Need you inside me.”

You let out a pained whimper when Jin lifts you off his thigh, pulling you up to stand with him.

“Up against the window,” he orders, and you feel a chill run up your spine. He had to be joking right? The windows were completely see through, anyone in the buildings across would be able to look in and see– oh.

“Did I fucking stutter?” he barks, and you back up against the cold glass as he stalks behind you, undoing his belt with a clink.

The temperature change feels amazing against your sensitive nipples, and you’re tempted to rub them up and down against the glass just to tease him. But before you can do that, he pushes two fingers into you, and you moan loudly.

“You picked the wrong time to get on my nerves, princess,” Jin growls into your ear, a salacious grin on his face as he fucks into you with his fingers, palm meeting the furious grinding of your hips.

“Daddy, please, please make me cum,” you demand, volume becoming louder and high pitched. At this point, you don’t care who sees. Or who hears. You close your eyes, imagining the people in the penthouse directly across looking out to see you naked, Jin pounding into you with his shirt and tie still on, and your wet cunt begins leaking even more, walls fluttering around his fingers.

“You’ll only come if I say so,” Jin taunts, immediately sliding his fingers out, and you let out a choked sob, your orgasm ebbing away.

Before you can protest, Jin’s sliding in, messy fingers gagging your bratty mouth as he buries his cock to the hilt. 

“Fuck!” you whine against his fingers, tongue dragging against them to lick all of your messy arousal off of him, cunt walls clenching when he groans lowly. You throw your hips back, fucking yourself on his cock, while he slams into you from behind, your palms pushing flat onto the window to brace yourself against his powerful thrusts.

You feel a sharp tug, Jin pulling you by the hair to arch your back, planting a messy kiss on your lips, prodding his tongue into the seam of your mouth to taste.

“The best fucking pussy I’ve ever had,” he breathes heavily, giving your lips one last lick. “Always dripping down my cock, and it tastes divine.”

He lands a harsh slap on your ass, pulling your leg back against him. The change in angle makes him feel even deeper inside of you, until all you could do was scream his name as your body smacks into the glass over and over.

“Shit, Jin, I’m gonna cum!” you scream, pussy clamping down on his cock as you leak rivers and streams, Seokjin’s hand coming up to slap your tit, rolling your hardened nub in between his fingers. The ecstasy you feel is overwhelming, the high better than any stupid victory you could have gotten today, and you come with a squeal, no longer feeling like a sore loser.

Coming down from your high, you feel dazed, Seokjin’s thick cock continuing to rut into until his warm cum spills into the condom, and he buries his head into the crook of your neck.

“I should’ve known you were too smart for your own good, baby. Strip Mario Kart was the most fucking brilliant idea you’ve ever had,” he sighs.

Gulping down huge sips of water, you linger in Seokjin’s kitchen, finally feeling satiated and ready to take on the rest of your finals studying. 

From behind you, you hear Seokjin, padding around in the kitchen. The two of you had showered separately, knowing you’d have to leave soon and get back to studying. Your head spins, wondering why he’d called you baby. It sounded so soft, and domestic. It made you feel things you weren’t allowed to feel for a rich CEO who was funding your education.

“Hey ____,” Seokjin whispers in your ear behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Who’s a dentist’s least favorite Mario Party character? D.K!”

You feel the tension melt from your shoulders, giggling softly. Seokjin and his stupid dental jokes. You knew it was his line of work given the materials his company designed and exported, but his silly quips about teeth always made you feel better.

“I cut you some fruit,” Seokjin mumbles into your hair. “Eat it before you go back, okay? You’re gonna crush these finals.”

Spinning around, you wrap your arms around his neck, and he shrieks when you mould your lips to his own.

“Thanks Daddy.”

A/N pt. 2: DJEWJEDLDNEDJWDK yeah Jin is CEO of a dental materials company bcos I said so kay (don’t mind me, I’m just projecting). Also there are feelings! Tiny feelings! Thanks for reading! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

[dreamingofaizawa]

Potent

Alpha! Hanta Sero x Fem! Omega! Reader

***18+ Fic***

If you are under the age of 18 please vacate the premises.

Warnings: A/B/O, smut, knotting, marking, breeding kink (sorta? idk it comes with the A/B/O territory), a hint of pregnancy kink, a bit of blood

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author's Note: Ohhhhkaayyy so this has been sitting in my google doc for AGES. I think I started this in...October of last year? It's been sitting there for months and I've lacked the motivation to finish and post it but then I sent in an anon ask to @reinawritesbnha and, being the absolute queen she is, she became the little push I needed to do it. I DID IT FOR REINA!!

Also, this is some of my earliest writing and I only skimmed and edited a little bit of it so if there's a little bit of weird pacing or a strange cutoff where the writing styles clash it's because I haven't touched this piece in months.

Anywho, enjoy~

*

*

*

It had to happen when you were surrounded by alphas.

Your suppressants flaked out, again, and your scent wafted through the air on the street. Normally It’d be fine for an omega to let their scent float freely around them. But your scent is particularly...potent, even when you weren’t in heat. Not only that, but you weren’t mated yet, your scent glands still bare, and you still didn’t have a pack. To make matters worse, you’re quirkless.

You hadn’t realised what was happening until your path was blocked by an especially large male alpha. You turned around, and there were two more behind you. Fuck. This isn’t good. You took in your surroundings and searched for an exit, but you couldn’t find a way out. There's no way you’d be able to outrun the three very large male alphas.

Probably the worst part is that more alphas are turning their head toward you, taking notice of your lavender honey and rain scent that slowly began turning to a sour swamp. You dared to hope that change would ward off the three cornering you, but they’d already got a whiff of you. Several distressed chirps sounded from your chest, voicing your discomfort, and you glared pointedly at the three alphas as they edged closer to you.

You hate when this happened. Why’d you have to be cursed like this? Your growls only grew, baring your little omega fangs. There’s no way in hell you’d let some stranger scent you, let alone one of these creeps. They wouldn’t take the damn hint and just crept closer to you, calling out to the ‘pretty little omega’ to ‘come have some fun’.

You’re scared now, the involuntary chirps in your chest coming more frequently. None of the other alphas or betas on the street were big enough to face the three, making you a sitting duck and a ragdoll if they wanted you to be. Your claws are small, nowhere near ideal for this situation, but you’d use them if you needed to. With a final low defiant growl you dropped your bag against the wall behind you and readied yourself for a fight.

Suddenly a large body dropped in front of you, his back to you. His scent alone hit you like a freight train, orange zest, mint, tree bark and something earthy. It had your head spinning, nearly sending you into an early heat. He growled, low and powerful, the sound rattling in your chest and making you sink further into the wall behind you. The other three alpha’s scents together were still overpowered by the new alpha before you, and they vanished faster than they appeared.

He turned around and stepped away from you, giving you space to breathe. He kneeled down enough so he was eye level with you, his hands reaching out clearly in an attempt to comfort you, but kept from touching you.

“Are you okay?” The question barely registered, still delirious from his scent, and you’re having a hard time recovering. Large hands grip your shoulders and shake you lightly, your mind beginning to clear with the soothing pheromones he’s releasing.

“Omega.” The command snapped you to attention, your gaze fixated on his own dark irises.

“Are you okay, omega?” You blink, swallow down the lump in your throat, take a deep breath.

“Yeah...I’m okay. Thank you, alpha.” But you’re not quite okay. You need to get home. Fast. The alpha seemed to catch on, probably by your scent that still hadn’t returned to normal. He stands and slips off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders and wrapping you in his scent. It’s a comforting gesture.

“Let’s get you home.” With a nod you set off, the man walking next to you with a strong, warm hand on the middle of your back.

“What’s your name?” You introduce yourself, and he does the same. His name is Sero Hanta, and now that you’re calm again, you take in just how handsome he is.

Raven hair is pulled back into a small bun, showing off his undercut and strong, sharp jawline. Onyx eyes shine with kindness and playful mischief, and a beaming grin reveals pearly white teeth. He’s incredibly toned, his muscles calmly rippling under the t-shirt that stretched over his chest. You vaguely noticed the strange shape of his elbows, but disregarded it as his quirk. The omega in you is howling, begging for this alpha, his scent invading your senses. But you suppress it quickly, reminding yourself you’d only just met this man.

As you reach your apartment you exchange phone numbers, and he tells you to keep the jacket and use it when you go out to ward off any unwanted attention. You thank him again for helping you earlier, and he waves to you as he walks down the hall and enters the elevator, the doors closing in front of his handsome smiling face.

Despite meeting him only ten minutes earlier your instincts trust the alpha, and you hold the jacket close to your face, breathing in his scent. It’s wonderful, and your inner omega is in love. You find yourself wondering when you’d see him again.

The next few days are riddled with work and calls to your doctor about the strength of your suppressants. You work from home as a secretary for a small company. It’s a miracle you’d found it, too. Nobody wants an omega, let alone a potent one. It’s an alpha’s world, you guess. When this job opening popped up you were ecstatic, so you took it and have been working from home with decent pay for the last five years.

The calls to your doctor were not going as smoothly as your job, though. You leave a message every four hours until she finally calls you back. She was concerned since the suppressants she’d prescribed are the strongest out there, and if your scent was overpowering them they were either defective or your scent glands were overproducing. It wasn’t an immediate threat to your health, it only meant you’d be drawing more attention than you wanted to. Still, it’s annoying and makes life so much harder than it needs to be.

After she prescribed twice the amount, she said she’d look over your tests from the latest visit before she hung up the phone. You groaned once the call ended. You seriously needed a break from your second gender. Taking the prescribed double dose of suppressants, you got ready to go out to the corner cafe to read and drink coffee. Hopefully the new amount will keep steady. You really don’t want to deal with any more aggressive alphas this week. For good measure you pull on Sero’s jacket, allowing his scent to cover you, then grab your keys, phone, wallet and a book and begin the walk.

When you arrive at the cafe you order a hot mocha, curl into the small corner booth and crack open the book. You got lost in the ink and your mind floated along the adventure, putting yourself in the shoes of the main character and leading the mission to take down the corrupt queen who’d framed you for killing the prince of a neighboring kingdom. You were ripped from the fantasy world when a bright, enthusiastic blonde came up and tapped you on the shoulder, making you jump. His smile was as bright as his hair.

“Sorry to scare you cutie, but I couldn’t help but notice that jacket of yours smells an awful lot like my friend Sero!” You smile softly at the blonde.

“Well if we’re talking about the same Sero Hanta, then your nose would be correct. This is his jacket.” His eyes widen as he nods.

“Oh my gosh you must be the omega he keeps talk-” The blonde’s words became muffled by a large hand. A hand that belonged to the very man you were talking about. Sero smiles apologetically down at you as he shoves the blonde back to where you assume they’re sitting.

“Sorry about Kami, he’s… extroverted.” You smile back at him, mostly because you’re happy to see him again.

“It’s no problem at all. He recognized your scent on me.” He looked down and only then realized you’re wearing his jacket, and he beams at you. Then he takes a glance at the booth you’re sitting all alone at, his smile falling just a bit.

“Do you wanna come sit with us?” You take a moment to think about the offer, then agree with a nod. Your omega couldn’t pass up more time with him.

As you approach the booth you notice there are more people with Sero than you anticipated. There were four other people sitting there. Sero introduced all of them from left to right. Bakugo Katsuki, Kirishima Eijiro, Ashido Mina, and the happy blonde from earlier is Kaminari Denki. You introduce yourself and when Sero slid into the booth, you followed after him.

These five are a tight pack, and you learn they all met in high school. Bakugo’s brash personality made you wary at first, but it didn’t take long to realize he’s just like that with everyone. He makes a bit of a snippy remark, which you easily counter, and he smirks while the rest smile or snicker. It would seem they like you.

You can’t tell what their second genders are, and you mentally kick yourself for even wondering in the first place. Their genders are none of your concern, but you can’t blame yourself when you’re constantly alert because of your own stupid second gender. As it turns out, you don’t need to wait very long to find out.

This time you smell your own scent as it permeates the air around you. You swear under your breath at the stupid suppressants that obviously can’t so their job, and the others snap their gazes to you. You sigh.

“Yeah, that scent is me. My suppressants flaked again. Sorry about that.” They all nodded, seemingly understanding. Sero must have told them about the other day. Of course, it would soon repeat. It didn’t take long for an alpha to take notice of your scent. The man -- why is it always the largest males??? -- strides up to the booth with a cocksure grin and leans down to inhale your scent. You duck away from him, into Sero, and let out an albeit small warning growl that was drowned in Sero and Kirishima’s. He ignored them all the same.

“Hey there little omega, you smell real nice. You wanna come hang with me instead? We can have some fun together with my buddies, what do you say?” The others stayed quiet. They’re going to let you defend yourself before they do anything in case they end up escalating the situation. You turn your head and lift your shoulder, hiding your scent gland.

“I’m not interested, thank you. Please leave me alone.” You hoped to whatever deity watched over you that the man would leave. Before anyone could react the alpha grabbed your wrist in a vice grip, yanking you roughly from your seat. You chirp, your scent turning sour and the entire pack abruptly stands, baring their fangs at the man. It barely registered in your head that Kirishima and Bakugo are alphas, Mina is a beta, and Kaminari is an omega, their fangs giving them away.

The man tightens his grip on your wrist and you cry out, your bones creaking under the pressure. With no other options you did the one thing that would get him to let go, and sank your fangs into his wrist. You jump back into Sero, who wraps an arm around you protectively.

“You bit me, you bitch!” He raises an arm, clearly about to try and hit you, but a large hand grabs his wrist. Surprisingly enough it’s Bakugo, and his growl is laced into his words.

“Leave now, or you lose a hand.” Sero speaks up from above you.

“You might wanna listen, amigo. That’s Dynamight.” The alpha rips his arm from Bakugo’s hold and looks down at you, and you growl at him as he scoffs and walks away, apparently not ready to fight the #2 pro hero over an omega.

You all sit back down and you pull up the sleeve of the jacket to inspect the already forming bruise on your wrist. Your nose wrinkles with a half-angry half-pained snarl. Tenderly, Sero takes your wrist and lightly squeezes the sides of your forearm, against your bones, and your lack of reaction tells him nothing’s broken. Still, he growls at the offending bruise.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You shake your head and put a hand over his.

“It’s not worth it Sero. He’s probably long gone.” You turn to the rest of the pack.

“Thank you for protecting me.” Kirishima is the first to speak.

“Of course! That dude was a jerk. I just hope he doesn’t go around doing that to other omegas.” Bakugo, surprisingly, spoke next.

“Obviously we’d protect you. You’re a potent omega and quirkless, so you attract unwanted attention without even knowing or wanting to. Besides, if you’re gonna be Sero’s omega there’s no way in hell we’d let some extra handle you like that.” The implications make your face burn, and Kirishima smacks the blonde’s arm with a ‘Don’t just say that kind of thing, Katsuki.’

After an hour or two of talking, and shockingly no other aggressive alphas, they all walk you home to your apartment. Sero wanted to check on your wrist again, so you invited them all in, but they all had something else to do, so you were left alone with Sero. The fact that the one alpha you desperately wanted to be around is alone with you in your apartment is both great and terrible. Thankfully, you have self-control and his own suppressants are working perfectly fine.

He inspected the darkening bruise on your wrist, his large hands gripping your arm tenderly and turning it gently as he prods at the skin. It doesn’t hurt too bad, so you assure him you’ll be perfectly fine. Eventually he leaves with a hug and you sigh once the door is closed, relieved that you were able to keep your omega at bay and your hands to yourself.

A couple days later you get a text from him and the two of you text often, asking how each other’s day went, if anything interesting had happened. You didn’t leave your apartment unless you needed to, since your suppressants clearly weren’t working, so you made sure to cut grocery trips short and keep away from any alphas that seemed a bit aggressive. Sero invited you to hang out with the pack at their house, and you obliged.

They lived in a huge house all together. Most of the rooms were sealed so no scents or sounds could go in or out for ruts and heats, and there were several spare rooms that were empty and waiting for more pack members. It was a fun hangout, filled with video games and good conversation, and even better food which Bakugo cooked. Sero had an arm around you whenever he was close, and you definitely didn’t mind. Your suppressants flaked in the middle, again, and Sero insisted he walk you home. With him walking you home there weren’t any alphas trying to get you this time. You ended up going over to hang out with them a lot when you weren’t working, and eventually Sero began to court you.

Obviously, you accepted, and after a few months of dating and scenting, your overactive scent glands seemed to mellow out, Sero’s scent mixing with it. Your suppressants are lasting much longer now, which is a good sign. Now that you’re Sero’s omega, he often helped you with your heats and you’d help him with his ruts, and he was strong-willed enough that he hadn’t marked or knotted you in the middle of things.

About a year and a half into the relationship you realize you really love him. Sure you had arguments, but everything was settled through calmed discussions over coffee or tea, and you came to understand each other well enough that arguments became few and far between.

You’re happy with Sero, so when your heat came around early and he was there to help, you were going to let him know just how much you loved him.

You texted him once you felt it starting. He was there within half an hour, and you pounced on him once the font door closed, smothering him in hot, wet kisses, eager to feel him inside you. He carries you to the bedroom, and you two are quick in shedding all of your clothes. He lays you on your back with a hand on your throat as he growls into your ear, making a hot shudder roll down your spine.

“Are you ready for me omega?” You whine and nod, your slick already dripping down your folds. You want him so bad it hurts.

“Please alpha, I need your cock.” He growls again, satisfied with your answer, and he presses into you, bottoming out with one firm thrust. You chant his name like a mantra as he set a bruising pace, rutting into you recklessly, wet skin slapping on skin the only other sound beside your whimpers and his growls. His teeth nip at your shoulder, sharp fangs testing your skin and claws digging into the fat of your hips. His cock is so deep, hot swollen tip kissing your cervix with every full-bodied thrust and sending you into a euphoric haze. Your own claws are sinking into his back, leaving little trails of red and blood beading down the lines. It drives him wild every time.

“That’s right, little omega. Mark me up, I’m all yours. Fuck you’re so pretty underneath me like this.” His hands grip behind your knees and press them into your chest, folding you nearly in half as he plows into you further. The angle knocks the breath from your lungs and your eyes roll back. You can feel his knot beginning to swell, feel how his thrusts are getting more controlled and his grip on your thighs tighten from the sheer concentration it’s taking for him not to breed you. You have other plans. Between wheezed breaths you squeak out.

“H-hantaaa~” He slows to a near snail’s pace, grinding his slowly growing cock into your sweet spot, a smirk stretching across his face as you splutter from the sudden change. He’s enjoying making you squirm.

“What is it, sweetness? Tell your alpha what you need.” You pant, chest heaving as much as the position will allow.

“Want your mark, want your knot~ Wanna be bred Hanta! I want your pups!” He stills completely, claws digging into the fat of your thighs with enough force to have drops of blood falling to the sheets beneath you. You’d never said anything like that in the heat of the moment. He can’t have heard you correctly...right?

“Princesa, do you know what you just said?” The seriousness in his tone has you sobering, but even before you knew exactly what you were saying. You nod frantically, wiggling your hips to get him to move again.

“Yes! I know alpha! Please, give me your knot~” His growl makes your bones shake, and with no warning he drops your legs around his waist and leans down so his face is buried in your neck.

“Fuck, I’m gonna trust you with this baby girl. I’ll give you exactly what you want.” His fangs sink into your scent gland just as he picks up his brutal pace, and the euphoria makes you cum hard, your whole body locking up and mouth falling open in a silent scream. He plows into you as you regain your breath, and you bite down on his own scent gland as hard as you can, tearing into his skin with every intention of leaving a pretty scar for the world to see.

His knot swells more, and he’s pushing it into you with every ounce of power he can generate with that gorgeous body of his. With one final snap of his hips he locks his body to yours and cums hard, ropes of hot seed filling you to the brim. He collapses on top of you and laps at the wound on your neck and you do the same. After a few minutes he leans back and cups your face in his hand, gazing down at you like you hung the moon and the stars.

“Are you alright?” You nod, nuzzling into his palm.

“I’m sorry. I was gonna talk to you about it, but my heat came early.” He kisses your forehead gently, brushing the strands of hair from your face.

“It’s okay, pretty thing. I trust you know what you’re getting yourself into.” You giggle and wrap your arms around him.

“Of course I do. I love you, Hanta.”

“I love you too.” You lay there, tangled in each other’s arms until his knot goes down. You whine at the loss when his cock slips out of you, clawing at him to come back because you’re still in heat. His hand gently wraps around your neck, a low chuckle on his lips.

“Relax, we’re far from done.” His already hard erection rubs up and down your glistening folds, barely stimulating your clit, teasing you until tears prick your eyes and you’re beggin him to fuck you again.

“When I’m done you won’t be able to walk for days. I’m gonna breed you so well, You’re gonna look so pretty all big and round with my pups.” He groans at the image he’d conjured in his head and you squeal as he slams his hips into you.

You’re in for a wonderfully long night.

[mrskittythulhu]

Blue Flames of a One Night Stand

(18+) Dabi + (y/n fem) 

part 2 part3 part4

www.wattpad.com

It was never meant to be like this. The one-night stand should have ended hours ago but some how the sun rose with you tucked in his arms. He just wanted a night to unwind with a few drinks and a quick release but somehow you came home with him and spent the night.

The light flowed in from the window between the holes of the old curtains. Your body curled up under his blanket trapping one of his arms underneath you like a pillow. Dabi took his free arm from over you to rub the sleep out of his eyes. After blinking a few times to adjust to the early afternoon light his gaze traveled over your sleeping form. Dabi smiled at himself seeing your ruined mascara streamed down your cheeks. Memories of your screams flicked in his mind.

“Fuck.” He whispered to himself. Dabi fell back onto the bed tossing is arm over his face with a low grumble. Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still peacefully sleeping. Slowly he dragged his palm over his face in frustration.

Slowly he pulled his arm out from under you trying not to wake you. As you rolled away the blanket fell away from your chest revealing your perked nipples. Deep bite marks over your chest and neck reminded him of his actions last night in his drunken haze. Dabi’s cock twitched at the sight of you exposed. He softly watched you sleep on his bed for a moment before snapping himself out of his trance. Slowly he pulled the blanket back up over you before sliding out of bed.

Enjoying the feeling of the cold floor beneath his feet he took a step only to feel silky fabric bush across his toes. Looking down to the floor was the dress he burned off your body. A sinister smiled graced his lips at the memory of how the dress hugged your curves until his blue flames helped him rip the fabric from your body. He let out a groan as he picked up the burned fabric. When he stood back up, he began to feel painfully aware of his arousal. Letting out a huff of air from his nose Dabi made his way to the bathroom.

With a twist of the lock, he felt secure with in the small space. Quickly discarding your mini dress into the tiny trash bin. He was not sure what you would wear when you got up, but he tried to convince himself that it was not his problem. You should never have let him burn your clothes in the first place if you did not have anything else to wear home. His sadistic side absolutely loved the way his blue flames danced across your skin and how you moaned when he would use his quirk.

Leaning over the sink his eyes slowly trailed up to meet his reflection in the mirror. Your bright lipstick smeared over his own lips with matching kiss marks down his neck and chest. A ring of faint lipstick remained at the base of his shaft. Giving himself a slow stroke of his length with only the memory of how you took him deeply in your mouth in the dirty bathroom of the club last night. As his eyes made it back up to the mirror, he noticed that in the same lipstick color on his body was your name and number on the glass. Dabi checked darkly to himself knowing he had completely forgotten your name if he even bothered to ask at all in his drunken haze.

Dabi stopped his hand to reach for the shower faucet.  Quickly stepping inside the shower to enjoy the cold water running over his burned shin. Dabi placed his left had on to the tile wall as his right began to stroke along his hardened length. The metal of his piercing rolled along his palming action. He began to breath deeply into the cold water that flowed over his face. Quiet curses and deep grunts escaped his lips at the memory of your body bousing on his old mattress. With a few final strokes his chest hummed as he found his release. Dabi’s mind began to clear as he watched the water swirl down the drain. With a deep breath he finally grabbed the soap and washed away the possessive love marks and dried bodily fluids you left on his body.

With a feeling of slight mental clarity Dabi walked over to his secondhand dresser. Aloud squeak from opening the drawer caused you to stir. Realizing you are finally waking up he quickly pulls out a pair of black jeans and old white shirt. Once clothed he reached to the top of the dresser for his cigarettes placing one in his mouth to light with his quirk.

Slowly he walks over to the bed. Seeing your bare bottom peeking out from the sheets with is handprint lightly branded into your skin began to fill his head with pleasant thoughts. ‘She left her number maybe she wants to meet again. Of course, she does, sluts like her love getting dicked down.’ The thought of you staying slowly turned into thoughts of his villainous life. ‘Wonder how that dusty Tomura would feel about her? He would want to share her as if that dusty virgin would know what to do with a piece of ass like that.’

The bed squeaked as he sat on the edge next to you. Leaning an arm over your body to hover over you he let out a puff of smoke away from your sleeping form. “Going to wake up at some point doll face?” Your face scrunched up as you let out a groggy groan soon to peak up at him with one eye.

“Coffee?” your voice comes out strained and scratchy.

“Ya, I got some,” there was a sarcastic chuckle in his voice, “anything else you want princess?” With a satisfied moan a smile crosses your face. You stretch your arms above your head and wiggle your body beneath him.  You reach your hand over to clasp the hand Dabi held the cigarette with and pulled his cigarette into your mouth while he held it for a drag.

“Shower if you don’t mind.” You lock eyes with the bright blue that stole your attention all night. You were not sure what he was thinking but you enjoyed how intensely he was staring down at you.

“Water only runs cold princess.”

“Well after last night I could use a little cooling off.” Dabi frimly grabbed your ass cheek with a satified hum in his throat. You could feel a low heat from his palm made from his quirk. After a moment he release you. Standing up from the bed he put out his cigarette in the ash tray on the windowsill next to the bed. He started to walk to the door and your eyes followed his movement.

“If your going to eye fuck me this early in the morning, we could just go another round.” Dabi glanced up and down your barley covered body with a grip on his belt buckle as if he were waiting for you to invite him back over.

“Shower first need to get your kids out of my hair.” As Dabi tried to hold back his laughter you managed to roll out of his bed. His blue eyes drank in every curve of your naked body in the light of the day. The bruises, hickeys, scratches, bites and burns only made you look more attractive to him. “See something you like?” You say with a sarcastic tone as you bend over slowly giving him a full view of your ass while you pick up you purse.

“Just admiring my handy work babe.” You slowly strut across the room lust filled blue eyes follow your every step. You arch up on your toes to place a chase kiss on his lips. Tossing your bag over your shoulder you walk into his bathroom.

You walk into the kitchen hair wet and up in a messy bun. Glasses on your face because you needed to rest your eyes after wearing contacts late into the night. Thin short pink running short and a tight white tank top with matching thin flimsy sandals. With each step closer to Dabi the smell of coffee makes you let out a satisfied hum.

“So, your name is Dabi?” You had noticed he taken your lipstick and wrote on the bathroom mirror as you had to what you assumed to be his name. Dabi slowly turned around with a mug to his lips grunting confirmation to your question. He handed you a mug of black coffee and took the moment you were distracted by your beverage to take in your appearance.

He was surprised that you had a change of clothes in your small bag, but his face showed no emotion. Part of him was hoping you would walk out in only a towel or the hoodie he left on the bed for you. Dabi thought you looked so normal and innocent in your day clothes making him wonder why you were here with him. You made the aggressive advances on him the night before and now he was starting to question your motives. The bitter taste to his coffee was nothing to the bitter feeling of being used. He sucked down another gulp of coffee trying to harden his already shielded heart. Dabi placed his mug down, crossed his arms over his chest then lean back on the counter.

“(Y/n) right?” His tone was dark and sarcastic when he spit out your name. You felt an unpleasant chill run down your spine. Trying to place the mug down without showing how intimidated you were by his sudden change in attitude was difficult. You smiled tightly and hummed out a yes to show he had your full attention.

Dabi enjoyed the fear in your eyes it gave him a deep satisfaction. He pushed himself away from the kitchen counter in two quick steps he was toe to toe with you. His height difference was clear as he looked down at you. His grip was tight on the tip of your chin when he pulled your gaze up to meet his. He leaned in close with an intimidating look in his blue eye.

“What is a sweet little thing like you doing playing round in a hole in the wall bar with a thug like me?”

You felt frozen in place as you tried to steady your breathing. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears. It was obvious you planned to sleep with someone you even packed extra clothes. You could not blame him for the question, but it was the deep threatening tone that he asked in that made you want to choose your next words carefully.

“So, what is it, were you board and needing someone to spice up your perfect life? Or do you get off on using people?” You try to respond but only a few low squeaks escape. Your throat feels try and legs weak as you try to look away from his sharp glare.

When Dabi goes to release your chin, he pushes you head to the side nearly knocking you off balance. With a huff he is back to leaning nest to the counter arms folded over his chest. He will not even look at you and the sour expression on his face fills you with guilt.

“Just go.” With those harsh words you felt tears filling your eyes.

You storm off to his bedroom to grab the last of your things. While in there you take the time to mentally collect yourself. This was not how things were meant to be. You needed to tell him the truth even if he did not believe you or care what you say. A rising determination was fueling you to go back out and tell him why you hooked up with him last night. Straightening up your stance to toss your bag over your shoulder as you turn around you find Dabi filling up the door frame and blocking your way out. Your body slightly jerks back in response to not expecting him to be behind you.

“Umm Dabi,” you stuttered shyly as you spoke up, “Look its not like either of us were planning to have more than a one night.” He squinted his eyes at you but said nothing. Inside he was slightly offended after how softly he thought of you this morning but over all he did agree with you. “Yes I did pursue you .. rather hard last night but I can explain.” You began to twiddle your finders nervously along the hem of your shirt. Dabi still stay silent, but the quirked eyebrow seemed to you as an indication to continue. “Well, you kind of look like a villain.” You were not wrong, but Dabi still felt like he had a right to be offended plus he was starting to enjoy watching you squirm.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better being called a villain because why? My scars?” Dabi stood tall in the doorway radiating off an intimidating presence.

“Ok I know that came out wrong, but I needed someone to ruin my reputation.” Well, that was an unexpected answer. Dabi felt taken back as he tried to understand what kind of a woman would willing let a man ruin her reputation. Dabi took slow strides towards you closing the distance and still blocking you from the door. You backed away in a slow shuffle as he approached until the back of your knees met the bed nearly knocking you off balance. Dabi leaned his head down slightly and placed a firm grip on your chin tilting your face up at him.

“I -I just wanted my ex-boyfriend to leave me alone.”

“And how did I fit into that little plan of yours.”

“We broke up 6 months ago, but he won’t let me move on keep saying I’m good for his reputation because he’s some mid rank hero.” That peaked Dabi’s interest. He loosed his grip on your chin and took a slight step back wordlessly signaled for you to continue explaining with a flick of his hand.

“We broke up 6 months ago, but it was more like I dumped him because he is an abusive jerk.” You took a deep breath to try and suppress tears of the memories of your past relationship. “It got to the point I wasn’t allowed to have friends because I needed to always be available to him even though he was cheating all the time. When I called him out on the cheating, he just claimed they were very affectionate fans.” Your tone got bitter the more you spoke. “So even after I broke up with him and moved, he would still fallow me or have another hero friend follow me. He broke into my home and would constantly call me even when I was at work. He continued to tell people we were together and because other people never saw the abuse I was labeled as an ungrateful girlfriend.” You could no longer hold in the tears your voice was starting to crack from crying.

“Shhh Shhh- princess don’t waste anymore of your tears on a guy like that.” He tried hard to make his words sound sincere. Dabi knew all too well how corrupt heroes were and so he quickly thought of a way to help make you look more ‘ruined’. At least he would get another taste of you before ridding himself of unnecessary drama. He really did not need more heroes following him around but if his idea worked, even a little, there might not be one following you. It was a win, win, to him.

“You need to save all those tears for the punishment I’m about to give you.”

“Punishment?”

“That right, punishment. You have been a very naughty girl using people like that for your own needs.”

“But I- “

“No buts.” He guides you slowly to lay back on the bed with your feed dangling off at the knees over the edge. “You need to show me how sorry you are for what you have done and take your punishment. Got that?”

“Yes…sir.”

“Good girl.”

Dabi lightly nudged you to sit on the bed by putting his hand atop your shoulders. The bed made a loud creaking sound as your weight caused it to sink. His fingers slowly traced down your body until he finally placed his hands on either one of your thighs.  As he leaned in, he pushed your legs apart. His nose ran up the length of your clothed slit the sensation caused you to let out a breathy moan.

“Wet already and I’ve barely touched you. I told you doll face this is a punishment.” Without wasting a moment Dabi smacked his hand hard on to the top of your feminine parts. You let out a loud sharp scream from the sharp pain. He quickly found your clit and started rubbing slow circles adding pleasure to the dulling pain you felt. His free hand crawled up towards the elastic band of your shorts hooking his fingers under the elastic. With a few shimmies of your shorts your bottom half was soon bare.

“Ooo!” Dabi leaned in and kissed the red handprint he left on your sensitive flesh. For a split second he felt guilty about how hard he hit you but the thoughts of what he was still planning to do was causing a sinister smile to form through his stapled face. “I’m starting to think you enjoy pain.”

“No, it’s not like that I..”, Unable to finish your sentence as a wave of pleasure was building up in you. Dabi no longer cared what you had to say he was more focused on the moans he could pull from you.

Your chest was slight blocking your view of fully seeing Dabi’s face, but you could feel his fingers slowly pumping into you. His lips and tongue swirled and sucked on your hood and clit. The combination was quickly pushing you towards an orgasm. After how long the two of you were intimate the night before your body was already sensitive.

You started to moan out what you though were words saying how you were about to cum but suddenly everything stopped. You sat up slightly in shock to see Dabi licking his finger of your juices with a sinister smirk. It was very quickly obvious he was not going to finish.

“I told you this was a punishment. Now get your things and get out.” With those cold words he stood up with your shorts in his hand. He lazily tossed them at you so dumbfounded by what just happened you nearly loss balance catching them. Dabi walked away from you as you put your clothes back on. He pulled out a cigarette and leaned near the partly opened window. Everything about him was cold again and it twisted you up inside far more than before.

Despite the aching in your shorts and the twisting pain in your chest you managed to gather your bag without crying again. You looked over at Dabi hoping to see some kind of emotion from him, but he turned his gaze away from you. With quick strides you made your way across his tiny apartment and out the front door. To make yourself feel a little better you slammed it shut behind you causing the cheep walls to shake.

Your angry pride filled power walk slowed after you made it a few blocked away. Slowly you shuffled to the nearby bus stop and leaned on the street sign. As you waited for the bus you allowed yourself to quietly let out tears. A mix of regret filled you as you replayed the last 24 hours in your mind. “Dabi..”

[wheelsup]

doll face

A/N: this is just a fun little blurb where you get to put a little make-up on spencer. originally written from an ask on my sideblog but figured i'd share here as it is sfw! i wrote this in ten minutes and i didn’t spell check so read at your own risk <3

reader is gn! they do in fact wear makeup, but makeup is genderless.

word count: just under 0.7k

Spencer loved watching you as you got ready for your dates. He got mesmerized with the shine of your lips as you applied gloss over them, or how alluring they could be if you chose a dark lipstick. How intense and defined your eyes became once you applied neat eyeliner topped with mascara. Or the way they had this deep softness around them if you went for a more smudged, smokey look.

He was in awe of how you could change your entire demeanor with just a few different tricks, all while staying the same beautiful you that you always were. Just with a little extra flair to set the tone for the night.

It made him want to do it, too.

You got to experiment and play with your looks, and Spencer always stayed more or less the same.

I wonder what that would look like on me, he thinks while watching you apply your finishing touches through the bathroom mirror.

As if you could tell what he’s thinking, you smile and turn around, planting a kiss square onto his lips. Your satin red lipstick left its bold mark. With your thumb, you smudged the rouge across his lips. He thought you were taking it off until he looked up in the mirror, catching himself with cherry colored lips, softly blurred and undefined, but alluring nonetheless.

His eyes linger on his reflection for a beat as he internalizes how that makes him feel. Attractive. Confident. Pretty.

You offer to do a little more on him, disguising it as a beg so he felt encouraged to keep going. If he thought he was doing it just as a favor to you, he wouldn't say no. He still reserved that it would just be for fun, and that if he didn’t like it he’d take it off before you left the house.

So, you sat atop the edge of the counter with him standing between your legs, offering up his face as your canvas.

You picked out a soft brown eyeliner and smudged it loosely around the shape of his eyelids, bringing some warmth to those already dark eyes. Then, with a lighter hand, you traced his waterline with purplish-black color to thicken up the appearance of his lashes and make his hazel eyes pop.

As you tried to apply dark brown mascara, his hair kept falling into his eyes, until you finally asked him to pull it back so you could finish up. He hastily pulled his long locks into a loose, low bun.

You pulled back to admire the outcome of your work, and reflexively your knees hugged his hips tigher as you bit your lip, gawking at how pretty your boyfriend was.

You praise him as such, and his cheeks tint a peachy pink all on their own, and you’re glad you didn’t bother with applying his blush.

He goes to pull out his hair tie and shake his curls out, but you quickly grab his wrist and stop him.

“Keep the bun,” your voice is low and gravely as you smooth a few flyaways back. As the same time, you loop your fingers into the front edges of his fringe, freeing a few carefully selected strands to frame his face.

He looks so good that you almost say to skip the restaurant. You can stay in instead, forget dinner altogether and just have each other.

Your stomach, however, betrays you with a low grumble. You sigh as you hop off the ledge, leaving him to admire himself more while you look for your shoes.

When you peek back in and find him smiling at his reflection, something you’ve never seen before, your heart soars.

As you slip your hand in his, you also toss your shared shade of lipstick into your bag to make sure he stays perfect all night. You mentally remind yourself to pick him up a few special things of his own the next time you go to the store.

-

-

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[shlutnutt]

My favorite pet

-kai anderson smut-

hopefully its good lol not really proof read also

warnings⚠️: gun play, death mention, hardcore penetration, oral sex, fingering, name calling, slapping, sir kink, spit kink, harsh language, bath sex, 69

Working for Kai Anderson has never been easy, you needed the money and urgently for your father's open heart surgery. Kai was extremely cruel almost as if he was just born with a rotten heart, but Winter usually makes it known that he's a great guy.. Even if he doesn't show it.

"Hurry the fuck up you slut! You're here to serve me, not make me wait" Kai demands from the basement in which he'd stay most of his times at in his head designing his world domination plans. "Im on my way Kai! Had to clean up a little, sorry." you apologize as you walk down the creaky stairs leading to his dusty dim basement manwhich in hand. "What have I said about the sorrys Y/N?" Kai gazes up at you while you dont dare step another foot, an intimidating expression suited on his rough face, manwhich in hand, comfortably seated on his wooden chair.

"Sorrys are stupid and unecessary, stupid little sluts like me don't apologize. " you complied. "Good girl." Kai praises, as you automatically sprint back upstairs. There were no words to describe how intimidated you were by Kai Anderson, not because of the fact he was a psychopathic cult leader serial killer, but because of the way he carries himself. Always firm, vigilant, direct and determined . He was also illustrated as a sex god amongst a few of his cult members, they'd talk about how he'd make them come in just one minute in addition to leaving their legs trembling for hours. Even though you were slightly terrified of him you'd not give up the chance to hooking up if he'd offer.

Arriving back home to your little kitten (Dex) you were up for a hot steamy bath after the exhausting day Kai had given you. As you run the water carefully stepping in the oversized bathtub you begin to relax, coming up with the brilliant idea to drink some hennessy to boost your relaxation. You soon jump at the sudden buzzing coming from your phone, noticing it was Kai you instantly pick up to avoid his aggressive protests.

Y/N: "Yeah.. What's up?"

Kai: "You forgot your cat food at my place, Y/N."

Y/N: "Can I umm.. come by pick it up tomorrow? Im kinda busy right now."

Kai: "Nope. No need. I got it, Im at your front door, if you don't mind opening?"

Y/N: "Shit.. Im taking a bath, uhh there should be a spare key under the mat somewhere."

Kai: "You sound dru-"

You terminate the call quickly as your heart soon skips a beat due to the loud unlocking commotion coming from your front door echoing through your empty home. Dex's meowing began to rise, you dont think much of it since Dex gets overly excited from the pure sight of cat food, but when you hear his meowing getting closer along some heavy footsteps you grow alerted, getting ready to step out the bath.

"Can i come in?" You hear a familiar masculine voice politely question from the other side of your bathrom door. "What? no. Im taking a bath can you wa-" Kai enters, pretending to cover his eyes to give you privacy. "What the fuck." you yelp. "Hey, I just needed your help opening the bag, its kinda weird made, plus your little pussy needed attention." you chuckle to yourself from his use of words. "You wouldn't want it to starve to death huh?" Kai questioned you, proceeding to prentending to cover his eyes with the one free hand he had. He looked better than ever.. He wore a black long sleeve shirt which hugged his ripped body along some black fitted jeans, accompanied by his hot man bun, he noticed how you hungrily checked him out and took his hand off his face revealing himself fully to you.

"Like my outfit?" Kai asked in an overly charming voice giving you a silly twirl, which weirded you out since he's alwalys been a meany, could've been because he wasn't in his old deppressing basement away from his deadly cult who does nothing less than slaughter people for entertainment, or maybe it was because of how intoxicated you were. "Yeah, I actually like it. You look so fucking hot. Wait shit I d—" you accidentally let out one of the many thoughts that circled your mind triggering an unexpected shiver to run through your veins causing the little soapy foams that covered your body to vanish into the warm water unintentionally revealing your bare body for Kai to see.

"Oh, God. Don't move, you stay just like that." Kai demanded as his voice deepened to the sight of you. His dark appealing eyes scanned through your own causing your breathing to quicken at an inhuman speed. Unawaredly you bit your lip, effecting Kai's bottom lip to slip under his teeth also. Tension filled the bathroom as you two just stared at eachother, not one of you attempting to break the eye fucking you've been holding onto.

"Take off your clothes." you instinctively order. Kai's eyes widen as he slowly lifted up his long sleeve revealing his battle scars along with his divine form, as you just admired in the temperate warm bathtub you continued to comfortably lay on.

"That's it?" you question as Kai teased lowering his pants down slightly revealing his boxers and sharping v line. "I want more, baby" you order once again, this time softly attaching your hands to your soaped up breasts. "I think I might need some more inspiration." Kai suggested. "What kinda inspiration?" you interrogate once again. "Touch yourself for me, pet." Kai groaned out.

Rolling your eyes a little in response to Kai's nickname you begin to trace your hands down to your soaked core, rubbing it a few times before slipping a finger halfway in, moaning to the view of Kai pleasuring himself through his pants, you gasp to him pulling out a pistol from his inner hip, pointing it at you instantly.

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" Kai questions, his warm breath fanning your face softly as he traced his gun up and down your body. "No." you shook your head terrifiedly as Kai's hand wiped the tears that your petrified eyes had shed before slapping the fuck out of you leaving a red mark instantaneously. Whimpering in fear and in pain you spat on his face in disrespect.

Kai paused and slowly cleaned off your spit with two fingers of his bringing it towards his mouth seductively sucking them clean before guiding his fingers from his mouth to yours. "Spit again" Kai motioned his fingers against your mouth signaling you to spit on them once again.

You spat on his fingers as he repeated his past actions, suddenly grabbing you by your neck to his mouth brushing his lips lightly against yours as he whispers against your mouth " You're gonna be good for me, right?" "Yes." you respond attempting to close the gap that you both held when he automatically pulled back to look deep into your eyes saying "It's yes sir, Y/N." "Yes si—" you're immediately interrupted by Kai's harsh lips on yours not giving you an opportunity to come up for air, continuing to trace his gun choking you and pulling your hair aggressively.

You pull on his pants signaling him to take them off as he hears your calls and unbuckles his belt allowing it to loudly make contact against the tiled floor. Tossing his pants elsewhere, Kai pushed you deeper into the bathtub as he joins you, turning on the hot water faucet.

"Open your legs for me." Kai intructs as you obediently do as you're told feeling his fingers fill you up quickly. Keeping his steady rhythm Kai continues fingering you, making out with you allowing his tongue to explore your mouth completely, loud moans filling your bathroom.

"Im really close, Ka– ..sir" you instruct in between needy moans reaching for his cock, provoking Kai to pull his fingers out of you angirly.

Another slap reaches the other side of your face as you whimper in pain. "I told you to call me sir, pet." "But I di–" "Shh, pet. Shut the fuck up. Suck your master's cock will ya?"

You proceed to straddle Kai's bare body against yours slowly and carefully drifting your head down to his erected member and your needy core to his face, forming 69. Beginning to kitten lick Kai's tip you feel his fuzzy face vibrate against your innocence making you moan against his, returning the same vibrations.

"Don't stop doing that.. it feels so fucking good." Kai instructs against your clit in which you obliged. His tongue swiped up and down your core aggressively, sucking your bud and tongue fucking you at times, making your pleasure on him sloppier by the second. Kai grabbed your thighs harshly digging his nails in deep trying to get as close as possible to you whilst flickering his tongue antagonising your swollen clit in which you let out a long deep groan against his freeing your juices all in his mouth in which he slurps dry immediately.

Kai chose to face fuck you belligerently causing your blood flow to your head making you dizzy in the instant as you allow your intoxicated body to be used as a sex toy. "Get on 4, you pet" Kai demanded as he pointed a corner of the now empty-waterd bathtub. "Yes, sir." you obliged once more switching your position as your legs trembled along the way causing a deep chuckle to escape Kai's lips, proud of his work.

Kai slid his erection past your soaking needy folds with no hesitation, causing your back to arch instantly against his. Kai had insane stamina in which you knew the sex wasn't going to be over unless he was done. His hips contacted your ass everytime, creating beautiful wave patterns to form on them, turning Kai on even more by the second.

"F–fuck.. you feel so good, my little slut." Kai praised as he gritted his teeth in between each slap against your ass, making you scream in pure pleasure as your climax was getting closer and closer. "Scream louder for me, Y/N." Kai instructed as you screamed for dear life against his nonstopping thrusts, satisfyingly sighing at the feeling of Kai's member softening inside of you as his warm liquids leaked out of your pussy.

"You're a fucking god, Kai." you praise, calling him by his real name purposely. "Next time I fuck you i'll make sure that you're left in a fucking wheelchair, Y/N." Kai snaps at you totally serious about what he just said while you giggled at his words.

"I love you, byee" your intoxicated self says to Kai's exhausted self, putting on his clothes whilst his wet hair shielded his dark intense eyes.

"Fuck you and feed your cat" Kai responds pointing at Dex who's been locked in the bathroom the whole time, witnessing it all.

"Oh shit."

Damn. Poor Dex lmao

[scarofthewind]

can you make more michael myers fluff please?

a crumb please 🥺

also i love you so muchhhhhhh and love the way you write all your horror fics (especially mikey since people don’t usual write him as a talker which i definitely think he is )

A/N: Thank you so much for the kind words and I firmly believe that when he finds the right person (the reader), he is a very big talker. Dr. Loomis said he can talk he just chooses not to so I think that he hardly shuts up when he finally does open his mouth. Anyways, enjoy this and have a great day! This is ‘O’ on the masterlist under Michael Myers.

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of a C-section, body negativity 

word count: 883 Tip Jar (every bit helps!)

“Will you stop looking at him like that?” You swatted at your lovers arm as he glared at the child across the table. 

“He started it,” Michael groaned, flipping through the pages of the newspaper and grinning when he found his latest killing there. “Look, I made the second page,” you rolled your eyes at his enjoyment of taking another life and focused on feeding your child who was busy staring at his father.

The baby looked just like Michael, his hair a bit darker and his eyes held more light in those blue hues. “C’mon, eat up,” you cooed to the baby, getting his attention long enough to put the spoon in his mouth. The child’s eyes wandered back to his father’s and he grinned a toothless grin, a giggle leaving his mouth. 

“He really likes you,” you pouted, wishing the child gave you the same amount of care. Michael scoffed before getting up and getting you a fresh cup of coffee as you yawned. 

“I don’t know why, I normally scare the shit out of kids.” He set your mug down and you hummed in response, the baby flailing his arms and babbling to himself. 

You finished feeding him and drinking your coffee before heading upstairs to change him and get ready for the day. You made sure he was comfortable in his cradle before going to your room to put on day clothes, examining yourself in the mirror for a second. Your fingers wandered to the scar where the doctor had to cut the child out and you remembered how scared you were. Michael had done an amazing job with holding your hand and trying to distract you from any pain or discomfort you had been feeling. 

But the only thing you felt at this point was a dark cloud looming over your head every time you undressed. The scar, the stretch marks, the left over fat on your body, all made you cringe to yourself. You’d found yourself moving out of Michael’s touches and often changing in the bathroom. 

You snapped out of your trance when you felt Michael put his hands on your shoulders. “I don’t want you seeing me like this,” you said weakly, your eyes not meeting his through the mirror. 

“Why?” His voice was gentle and his hands moved around your middle, pulling you back against him softly. His long hair had been pulled back into a small bun but some strands were loose and tickled your face; you found some comfort in that. 

“I’m not the same as I was all those years ago, I’m ugly.” Your eyes traced over the many markings on your body and you felt Michael hum to himself in disapproval. 

“You’re the same woman I care deeply about; nothing has changed,” He replied, his fingers tracing over the scar from the C-section making you hold your breath. “You’re very beautiful, (Y/N). Always have been and always will be.” Moving his head to nuzzle against your neck, you finally looked him in the eyes and only found warmth. Before you could open your mouth to argue, the baby started to fuss from the other room and Michael sighed, “Let’s go on a walk then, just to get out of the house for a bit. If you want to fix whatever you think is wrong with the way you look then okay. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before leaving to get the baby.

Your heart swelled with pride knowing deep down that you really loved the man before you. Looking at yourself again, you took a deep breath and could feel the dark thoughts start to brighten. You got dressed with higher spirits and went downstairs to find Michael adjusting the front facing baby pouch on his chest, his son beaming up at him like he hung the stars in the sky. 

“Who knew you’d be such a great father,” you teased, the baby looking at you and smiling, babbling something you couldn’t decipher. Michael pulled you closer and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before opening the front door. 

“Your ass has never looked better, by the way.” He grinned, slapping your rear as you walked out the door. “And stretch marks are hot, I don’t know why you think otherwise.” He locked the door behind him and grabbed your hand, patting the baby with the other. 

“Well I’m glad you think so,” you blushed, knowing the look he was giving you very well. You eyed your child for a second, adjusting the small bag you carried with you everywhere for him. “That holder isn’t made for a guy your size you know,” You informed your lover who never looked prouder. 

“It seems to work just fine, it’s just a little tight,” He grimaced as one of the shoulder straps dug into him. 

“Why not let me hold him?” You asked, smiling at a couple across the street who were walking their dogs. 

“I want to,” Michael replied bluntly, not meeting your surprised gaze. “Plus, he likes me more.” He teased and you pouted before the baby spat up a bit on Michael’s chest. The large man froze and looked down at the infant who laughed at his father’s uncomfortableness. Michael looked at you with a frown and undid the strap buckles, “He’s the devil, take him.” You and the baby both laughed. 

[smutbymia]

classmate jeno x reader with enemies to lovers please 🥺

There were a million and one reasons why you couldn’t stand Jeno: 

1. he’s an asshole

2. he’s the student body president for the second year in a row (you lost twice)

3. he’s a popular rich kid

4. he’s smart, athletic, AND good looking (I mean seriously... who is that lucky?)

Just to list a few. 

        You went to school together all your lives and it somehow felt like each year he got more and more irritating. This year is your last year and you promised yourself you wouldn’t let whatever ridiculous rivalry you and Jeno had ruin it. And so far you had done a good job of keeping that promise until this very moment. 

School had ended for the day, marking the completion of the first week of your senior year. You were reaching for a pen that dangled from a string next to a sign up sheet when you felt the warm skin of another hand brush against yours. You raised your head planning to mutter a quick apology to the person until you locked eyes with that bastard Jeno. The soft expression on your face immediately went icy as did his. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” you spat at him, the pen lingering in your hand. Jeno plucked it from between your fingers and wrote his name on the sign up sheet. Your eyes went wide and he dropped the pen, letting it hang from its string once more before turning to you and stepping forward. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he towered over you with his height. 

You groaned, stomping your feet before whining “You’re already president, why do you have to join yearbook too?” 

Jeno rolled his eyes, “Because I need more clubs for my college application.”

Your eyes shot daggers into his. You picked up the dangling pen and scribbled your name under his on the list before turning on your heels and walking into the open classroom next to you. You emerged from the room an hour later, expressionless. You pinched yourself, hoping that today was just an awful nightmare. Person after person left the room, walking past you until the hall went quiet with the exception of a few voices that lingered further down the school hall as people slowly made their way out. 

Things had gotten just slightly worse. When choosing the president for the Yearbook club, you and Jeno ended up in a deadlocked vote -- thus encouraging Mr. Park, the faculty member in charge to come up with the brilliant idea of electing you both to share the presidency. As if it wasn’t bad enough that you had to be in the same club. Now the two of you would be spending basically the entire year together working on such an important project. 

“Im not going to let him ruin me, I’m not going to let him ruin me, I’m not going to let him ruin me,” you repeated to yourself quietly as you slowly walked towards the nearest exit, in what felt like a daze. 

“That is quite the mantra,” teased Jeno. He had left the classroom last after talking with Mr. Park and caught up to you at some point. You jumped at the sound of his voice. 

“What do you want now?” you groaned.

Jeno stepped in front of you blocking your path. 

“Does it look like I want to be president with you? I’m being mature about it because it’s what everyone else wanted so you should stop acting like such a brat,” he spat. 

“You’re calling ME a brat? How ironic,” you scoffed, “You’re already in a ton of different clubs and hold multiple presidencies. What else could you possibly need for your college application? You could even buy your way in if you wanted to.”

Jeno froze at your final sentence. You continued the assault of words. “You know what your problem is? You can’t stand to lose,” you said, standing toe to toe with him. Jeno chuckled under his breath before bending slightly so that his face was hovering over your face. 

“You know what your problem is, princess? You’re okay with losing unless it’s to me,” he began, “You may still be royalty but that doesn’t mean you are anywhere near as powerful as I am,” he said as he straightened himself back up, walking backwards as he spoke. He tapped on one of the series of pins fastened to his school uniform jacket and you dropped your gaze to see what he was gesturing to -- it was a golden line drawing of a king’s crown. You locked eyes one last time before he turned around and stormed out of the school, leaving you standing alone in the empty corridor, blood rushing through your body with your fists balled up at your sides. 

That night you returned home, diving right into your study routine and getting an early start on some assignments to distract yourself from the awful day you were having. You had just gotten comfortable in bed when your phone buzzed with new notifications. You leaned over to squint at the bright screen. 

JENO: It’s Jeno 

JENO: School tomorrow. 5:30pm. 

You groaned before reaching for the device to type out a reply. 

Y/N: How did you get my number?

JENO: I’m the student body president. I can do anything I want. 

JENO: Just be there we have work to do. 

You rolled your eyes at his response before locking your phone and drifting off to bed.

The next day flew by the way Saturday’s typically did. You had breakfast with your family before heading out for a jog and coming home to do some workouts on youtube in your bedroom before taking some time to study and do some yearbook club work. When that evening finally rolled around you threw on some black biker shorts and a comfy oversized black graphic tee with some rock bands logo printed on the front before putting your hair up into a bun. 

Your school uniform was very preppy looking and you had to keep up appearances so every other part of your appearance had to be up to the same standard everyday. This resulted in you dressing quite “girly” so you enjoyed being able to dress down on the weekends when you weren’t out socializing.

Once you were done getting ready you made your way over to the school. According to Jeno, he had both keys and permission for the both of you to get some work done despite it being a Saturday. A security guard was parked outside by the gates when you arrived and you held up your yearbook club pass before he gave you a quick nod then immediately returned to watching some sports game on his phone screen and eating a sandwich. 

When you finally entered the school and got to the Yearbook/Media club lounge, you found Jeno leaning back in a computer chair as he clicked away at the mouse with his eyes glued to the monitor. He didn’t hear you when you entered because of the headphones he had covering his ears. He was dressed down too. He sported grey sweatpants, and a white t-shirt and his black hair looked slightly damp as the strands clumped together slightly and rested against his forehead. He nodded his head to music, and tapped his free fingers against the desk he was seated at. 

When you stepped further into the room he spun in his chair to face you. Jeno’s eyes scanned the entirety of your body before he slipped the headphones down to his neck and spoke. 

“I almost didn’t recognize you without your preppy headband, all that makeup, and those stupid earrings you always wear,” he muttered. 

Okay, low blow. The downside to wearing school uniforms is that you lose a lot of your individuality, and the school rules limit what you can and cannot wear. In fact, students had to fight for the right to accessorize until the ban was lifted. You personally enjoyed wearing tons of different earrings from hoops, to waterfalls and of course you felt a nice headband would draw together your academia look. Both were your signatures and makeup was just a given at such a fancy school. 

“I’d insult you back but honestly you look a lot less annoying when you’re not wearing that preppy uniform jacket filled with pins and patches,” you snapped back. 

“Whatever, I never said it was meant to be an insult,” he mumbled before gesturing for you to come look at his computer screen. 

“I’ve been working on the first draft for the welcome week pages. I think we should follow this layout and theme for the rest of the yearbook. I’m submitting it to Mr. Park,” said Jeno.  

You looked over the screen as Jeno waited for your feedback. “I like my version better,” you said after a few minutes. 

“Your version? Let’s see it then,” he urged. You took a USB keychain that hung with the rest of your keys out of your bag and connected it to the computer before leaning over Jeno and pulling up the file. He shifted his chair backwards to give you room, and sat back as he admired you from behind. It wasn’t until you spoke to him again that you realized what he was doing. 

“How does it look?” you asked as the document loaded onto the screen.

“Real good...” he said as his voice dropped an octave. You turned your head to face him, catching him with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth and his eyes still set on your backside before he drew them up to meet your gaze and flashing you a cheeky smile that turned his eyes into crescent moons. 

“Stop being a perv and come look,” you said sternly as you changed your position, lowering yourself to your knees by the monitor. Jeno scooted his chair forward again before looking up at your work. Within seconds he had a series of critical comments spilling from his mouth thus triggering a heated argument between the two of you. 

“You know what? I’m tired of going back and forth with you. Let’s just send both to Mr. Park and see which one he likes best,” he challenged. You were both on your feet now and standing toe to toe like you did yesterday during your face off. 

“Fine,” you accepted. Jeno sent the files off and the two of you drifted off into other work. You were both working in the dark room, developing some film, when you heard the faint sound of an email notification ring out from the monitor in the room next door. You and Jeno immediately looked at each other before frantically wrapping up your work and rushing to the computer. 

The two of you were huddled closely by the screen when Jeno clicked on the email to reveal its contents. You both silently read the screen before you were overcome with disappointment 

Mr. Park: Hey President’s. Both look great and would work perfectly with this years Yearbook but if you want my personal opinion, I think I’m leaning more towards Jeno’s! Great work so far and kudos for being so productive on a Saturday! Reach out if you need anything. 

You groaned as you stood back up. Jeno chuckled next to you. 

“Congratulations, you win again,” you snapped at him. He was so caught off guard by your tone that his smile fell from his face immediately and was quickly replaced by a smug expression. 

“Is that all that matters to you?” he asked raising his voice, “winning?”

You were toe to toe for the third time now and it was really starting to get on your nerves because Jeno was built and tall and something about him looking down on you made this stupid position even more annoying for you. 

“One thing! You couldn’t just let me have this one thing!” you yelled back. 

“Oh... my... GOD. You are unbearable!” Jeno groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

“You want to know why I couldn’t let you have this one thing?” he started, leaning down closer to your face. He was inches from you now and his breath danced across your lips when he spoke. 

“Because... you’re such a fucking brat. Every time you whine and complain all I can think about is filling up this pretty mouth so I don’t have to hear your voice anymore,” he said through gritted teeth, reaching his hand up to your chin. 

“And your face... the look on your face every time i beat you at something or take something away from you... the way your eyes get big and teary, and the way you pout your lips like you’re doing right now” he continued, running his index finger across your bottom lip. 

“Nothing turns me on more than taming you like this,” he whispered. Your body shivered under his touch. You were fuming on the inside at his words. They hurt. Yet you were also feeling things you had never felt before. Your eyes scanned Jeno’s face, along his lips and eyes and his jawline. Your nipples hardened underneath the cotton material of your shirt. Jeno noticed. You fought back tears of frustration as one slipped down your cheek, cursing yourself for being so turned on at a moment like this. 

“Don’t cry, baby girl,” Jeno muttered as he took his free hand to wipe away at the tear as his other hand cradled your cheek. Your hands were balled into fists at your sides and you stood frozen in your spot. 

“You’ve been so worried about me ruining you, but maybe that’s exactly what you need to get rid of that attitude...hmm?” he murmured. 

“I-I hate you,” you sputtered out, sounding more whiney than angry. Jeno let out a breath of air as the corner of his mouth turned up into a brief smile. He  stepped closer to you and you stepped back until you were trapped against a table.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled as he hovered his lips dangerously close to yours, eyes searching yours for any sign of resistance. You broke eye contact with him as your gaze settled on his lips. You subconsciously licked your own as you blinked away the remainder of the dampness in your eyes. 

You didn’t notice the way you gravitated towards his lips like a magnet until he leaned away from you slightly and your lips chased after his -- not letting the distance grow too much. Your eyes were still glued to his lips which had formed into a smug grin when you noticed how you had chased after his lips like a needy girl just as you felt the first wave of heat rush to your face.

“Just as I thought...” he muttered as one of his hands dropped to your waist and you felt him tighten his grip ever so slightly. Jeno ran his hand down the side of your body, trailing his fingers along your thighs before running his hands back up again -- this time gripping the bare skin of your waist underneath your graphic tee. 

You sucked in air when his warm hands came in contact with your skin. His eyes were glued to your face and his expression showed a slight hint of darkness. Jeno gripped your waist with both hands firmly before suddenly lifting you off the floor to sit on the edge of the table you had been trapped against. 

You let out a gasp as your butt landed on the cool surface, leaving you seated with Jeno standing between your legs. He bridged the gap between you by stepping closer and pulling you by your hips -- until every part of you was pressed against him. Your hands flew up to his chest to stop you from literally crashing into his chiseled torso.  

You accidentally let out a breathy moan when your crotches met -- feeling Jeno pressed against your center, leaving only the thin material of your biker shorts and your undies between your bodies. Jeno bit his bottom lip in response and rolled his lips once more, making you whimper and sending your hands sliding from his chest down to his waist. You hesitated but your hand placement was a dead giveaway that you wanted more friction. Jeno pulled at your hips one more time as he met your center with another stroke. You felt wetness begin to pool between your legs and tightened your grip on his waist. This time it was you who pulled him forward but he froze just before your bodies could properly connect again as you desperately tried to rut yourself against him. 

“Look at me,” he ordered. Your gaze immediately locked with his, eyes wide and lips pouted, a bit frustrated that he had stopped moving. 

“Good girl... Didn’t think you’d listen to me so well the first time,” he said, rewarding you with another roll of his hips. You groaned at the contact. 

“F-first time?” you question, rolling your hips to meet his as his breathing became more unstable. 

“It’s gonna be a long year, baby,” he started, “We have to work together, so it’s my responsibility to calm you down when you get all bratty.” 

There was something really sexy about the way you both managed to continuously grind against each other in pure ecstasy while having a full blown conversation, speaking between moans and grunts. 

“I’m n-not a brat, you’re just an asshole,” you snapped as you crossed your legs at your ankles, pulling him against you even harder. 

Jeno cursed under his breath at the friction as his hands reached down to grip at your ass before mumbling, “only person who thinks i’m an asshole is you,” he taunted, “you on the other hand are widely known for acting like a complete...”

You interrupted him with another roll of your hips, as a groan slipped from his lips. “Choose your next words carefully, Jeno,” you warned. 

he chuckled before finishing his almost forgotten sentence, “princess... that’s what you’re known for. For acting like such a fucking princess,” he groaned. 

Jeno wasn’t entirely wrong. You did strive for excellence when it came to your common interests in academics and extracurriculars. In fact, a pet peeve of yours was the fact that you and Jeno were always compared to each other, with most of the school being shocked that two people who were so alike seemed to always be at war with each other. In everyone else's eyes you were both one in the same.

Though you were respected, you weren’t delusional. There were definitely people who weren’t fond of you, but you had chalked it up to mere jealousy that was inevitable for a person who excelled as much as you did to experience. Jeno must have noticed your mind wandering because he lifted your chin slightly to direct your attention back to him muttering a soft “hey...” as he snaked his free hand up your shirt, hands brushing against your bare breast. 

You moaned when you felt his fingers tease your sensitive nipple. “Whats wrong with being a princess? People only call me that because they’re jealous,” you questioned. You had definitely begun to soak through your shorts, as you watched a faint wet patch begin to show on Jeno’s joggers. You gripped at the collar of his shirt as he dropped his head down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses all over the delicate skin. 

“F-fuck,” you groaned at the contact, hips jerking. 

“Exactly,” jeno said, lifting his head to lock his eyes with you again. “They’re jealous of how powerful you are... but that’s exactly what turns me on,” he confessed. 

He ran his hands along your cheek, leaning in to a whisper. “Do you know how hard it makes me when I think about turning the most powerful girl in school into a powerless mess?” Jeno tugged at one of your nipples as he finally drew your mouth into his for a kiss. You whimpered into his mouth, overcome with pleasure. 

Jeno deepened the kiss and for once you just allowed him to take control. As much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny that his energy was intoxicating and yes, maybe you were a little bit jealous of him for the same reasons as others were jealous of you. 

How could you not be attracted to someone who was as driven and talented and equally, if not even more powerful than you were in that regard. As much as you butt heads there was no doubt that you were very much a good fit for each other-- if all the fighting and competition were set aside, that is. But this didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was the way he was making you feel. It was as if though all those years of tension had finally bubbled over. 

Jeno’s tongue swirled against yours sloppily, just the way you liked. Even your bodies seemed to be on the same page. He pulled away from you after a few minutes of making out -- leaving a trail of spit hanging from your lips to his as he lifted you off the table and carried you over to one of the couches in the lounge area of the room. 

The sun had already begun to set ages ago, and only the faint hint of the computer screens you had been working on were illuminating the room. Jeno sat on the couch with you straddling his lap as he pulled his shirt over his head. You did the same and soon enough you were both left topless. Jeno wasted no time drawing you towards him and trapping a nipple between his lips as he palmed your other breast. You arched your back into him letting his name spill from your mouth. 

He kissed his way back up your chest as he pulled you in for a kiss. 

“Mmm.. Need all of this gone,” he said as he pulled at your shorts. You got up from his lap, and he immediately began to peel off the remainder of your clothing, dragging the material down the length of your body. 

His breath hitched as he stripped you of your shorts to reveal your white cotton thong. He brushed his fingers softly against the material before mumbling to himself, “cute...” 

His fingers ran against your slit, feeling the damp material under his touch and making you grow weak in the legs. 

“You’re so wet for me already... Such a good girl,” he said. Hearing words of praise fall from his lips like that made you feel so soft. For some reason, compliments hit different when they came from him. Your eyes drifted to the growing bulge in Jeno’s joggers. 

Your mouth fell open with the sudden desire to be filled with as much of him as you could fit as you slowly fell to your knees. Jeno raised his eyebrows while he watched you intently. You tapped your fingers against his knee, “off, please” you said as you pulled at the strings in the waistband of his bottoms. 

“Fuck, do you know how good you look on your knees for me?” he said as he lifted his hips to get rid of the rest of his clothing. Your eyes went wide when he finally settled back into his seat and began stroking his length while analyzing your expression. 

For once you couldn’t blame him for the arrogant expression on his face. He had every right to be proud of what he was packing. 

“Ugh, is every part of you perfect?” you complained as you scooted closer to him. You dragged your fingernails along his thighs as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth again. Your fingers danced dangerously close to his member as he slowed the movement of his hand before letting go of himself. 

You wrapped your hand around him, shocked at how much bigger he looked between your fingers. He throbbed and raised his hips slightly, thrusting up into your first. “Needy...” you teased, looking up at him as you giggled softly. 

“Y/n” he whimpered, a bit embarrassed at the sounds leaving his mouth now that you had momentarily gained the upper-hand. Jeno watched as you pressed your tongue to the slit of his cock before popping the head right into your mouth and sinking down around his length in one go, bottoming out. 

Your lips were wrapped around the very base of his cock when you moaned around him, making your entire mouth vibrate. 

“Holy shit,” he moaned loudly as he reached out a hand to draw circles on your cheeks while you worked at his length. You lifted your mouth all the way back, as his hips jerked forward again, fucking into your mouth as another whimper fell from his mouth. Your eyes were locked in his and you couldn’t believe how different he looked. His hard expression had gone soft. You had definitely managed to strip him momentarily of his power. 

“So naughty - where’d you learn - to use your mouth like this- huh, princess?” he asked between thrusts. Your eyes watered but you continued to let him use your mouth as you watched him grow more desperate. 

You removed him from your mouth with a pop as you pumped at his length fast. Jeno cursed under his breath before letting his head fall back on the couch for a moment. 

“Gonna c-cum,” he warned. 

“Look at me,” you ordered and Jeno obeyed.

You locked eyes as you delivered the final pumps, and waited with your mouth open and your tongue out as you felt him throb underneath your grip before spurts of his warmth shot up -- spilling onto your tongue and dripping from your lips down your chin. The remainder of his cum had spilled over onto your fingers, and you released him to pop them into your mouth to clean them off. 

You were aimlessly licking and sucking at your fingers, caught up in your own world when you noticed Jeno staring at you, chest rising and falling with a surprised expression on his face. 

“Hmm?” you hummed as you titled your head, wondering if everything was okay. Jeno, who had just cum harder than he ever had in his life was in pure disbelief at how you sat so calmly and managed to look so sweet and innocent with his cum dripping down your chin as you suckled at your own fingers. The sight alone made him start to grow hard almost instantly. 

After a few seconds he snapped out of it, leaning forward and cupping your cheek in his hand like he had been all night. 

“D-don’t think I’m letting you win that easily,” he muttered. He motioned for you to get off your knees, and he drew you in for a kiss as he repositioned you both on the couch so he would be on top of you. You seemed to have sparked the competitive fire within him. 

Jeno hadn’t expected you to switch on him like that and he was determined to follow through on his promise of ruining you. 

He trailed kisses down your body, skipping your pelvic region to drop kisses along your thighs as he peeled off your panties. 

“I’m sorry but I won’t be going easy on you... not after what you just did,” he warned as he pushed apart your thighs. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your center and it drove you insane. 

Jeno carried out the first lick along the length of your slit and it was enough to have you moaning and immediately roping your hands in his hair. You had been turned on for so long that even the slightest touch felt like heaven. 

He flicked his tongue against your entrance, muttering to himself about how great you taste, teasing you as your clit yearned for attention. He worked at your flesh, dipping his tongue in between the folds of your center before prodding at your hole and slipping his tongue inside. You tried to move your hips against his mouth but he firmly held you in place.

“Jeno, p-please,” you pleaded. He smiled against your skin as  he continued to dip his tongue into your hole, driving you closer to the edge but still not quite getting you there. 

“Whats wrong, princess?” he taunted before running his tongue up the length of your slit, once again avoiding your clit. You whimpered, reaching your hand down to feel yourself before he roped his fingers in yours to stop you. He lightly flicked his tongue against your clit, just enough to send electricity running through your body but still not enough to please you entirely. 

“I want to hear you beg for it,” he said as he blew air softly against your center, the sensitivity was overwhelming. He planted a soft kiss directly on top of your clit that would have melted your heart a bit if you weren’t so violently horny at this point. So instead, your hips jerked against the plushy feeling of his pursed lips. Jeno chuckled at your body’s reaction, before repeating the action -- drawing the same result.

After the third peck landed on your clit, and the third jerk of your hips sent you into a frenzy, you simply couldn’t resit any longer. 

Tears pooled at the corner of your eyes, and words spilled endlessly from your mouth. “Please, Jeno.. fuck, please let me cum. I’m d-desperate,” you confessed as your hips raised off of the couch, and he pulled away teasingly watching you squirm beneath him. 

“How would you like to cum, baby?” he asked.

“I need to feel you inside of me,” you pleaded before adding a soft “please” to the end of your sentence. 

You watched Jeno position himself at your entrance before stopping. 

“i’m on the pill, we don’t need --,” you assured him, reading his expression. 

He groaned straight away, interrupting you before you could finish as his mind drifted to places he was too ashamed to admit. He ran his head along your slit, making you twitch before he entered you with a quick snap of his hips, bottoming out immediately and forcing a scream from your lips. 

You weren’t sure what to expect from Jeno but it definitely wasn't this. He angled himself perfectly, propping you up so he was hitting all the right places as he pounded into you relentlessly. Within a single minute you were both racing towards your orgasms. 

“I’m close,” he murmured as he planted a kiss to your lips. 

“Me too,” you answered, “one last thing...” you said as he continued to thrust into you at a delicious pace. 

“Hmm.. what is it, baby?” he asked. You locked eyes with him, feeling quite shy at your next words. 

“F-fill me up, please. I want you to cum inside of me, really really badly,” you whimpered and with a final groan at your unexpected demand, you felt Jeno’s warmth spill all over your insides, sending you right over the edge and leaving your insides contracting against him. The two of you remained exactly how you were for awhile. 

Jeno was the first to move after catching his breath. He slowly slipped out of you with a breathy moan before lowering himself towards your center and softly licking at your folds even though they were covered in his own cum. 

“Shit, i’m sorry... I barely made it to the end of your sentence before letting go,” he chuckled as he lapped at your skin. 

“JENO” you shrieked as an unexpected orgasm rushed through you again when he flattened his tongue against your entire slit and you found yourself moving against his mouth in seek of more pleasure. You pushed his head away as you clenched your legs together feeling a mixture of both pleasure and agony run through your body. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry... last one, i promise” he laughed as he moved to your face to plant soft kisses on your cheeks and a peck on your lips. It took you a while to come back from your high.

     it was a bit late when you guys had finally cleaned up and locked the school back up. Jeno had driven you home in his new Volvo which he tried to convince you was a totally normal back to school gift, and had texted you for the remainder of the night about things like yearbook, and homework. It almost seemed as though what had happened was merely a dream. 

It wasn't until you were back at school on Monday that you realized that going back to normal was going to be impossible. You and Jeno still bickered over Yearbook decisions and didn’t hesitate to challenge each other during class debates but things had changed. Every annoying exchange you had simply fuelled your desire more. 

You’d get into intense match ups only to find yourselves coming up with excuses about Yearbook club to sneak out of class for quickies in Jeno’s car. He even had his way with you more times than you could count across his desk in the office he was awarded after becoming student body president. At first it was fun -- your adrenaline would pump at the thought of sneaking around so much but then things slowly started to shift again. 

Soon, you would spend afternoons at his freaking massive mansion of a family home where you guys would go over yearbook work. When you didn’t have yearbook work to do, he began inviting you over for study sessions, and to do homework -- all of which would end in amazing sex. Soon those invites extended to regular hangouts for no particular reason but to enjoy each others company and you found yourself drifting away from casual hookups to something that felt heavier -- more serious. 

The final nail in the coffin was when Jeno let your little secret slip after getting so worked up in a class discussion. You had been discussing the symbolism of a film you had just watched for an english class when you began to clash. 

“Baby, that makes no sense,” he mumbled after you had shared your opinion. He was doodling aimlessly on his notebook. The entire class went wide eyed, and a few gasps were let out.

“Actually, it makes perfect s--” you began before freezing. You had just noticed his mistake, and everyone had noticed yours which was how the pet name didn’t seem to phase you at all. Luckily Mr. Park quickly moved on to another topic as you both sat cursing yourselves silently. 

After the final bell rang for the day, you locked eyes with Jeno. 

“Idiot,” you mouthed. He offered you a sheepish grin in return as he approached your desk.

“I’m sorry, it slipped,” he began, “but now that every knows..” Jeno, slipped his arm around you as you entered the hallway. Most students minded their business, which you were grateful for while others stared and whispered. 

“I have a student body meeting for the next hour... you have debate team right?,” he said as you approached an intersecting series of hallways. You nodded.

“I’ll meet you outside then, and we can go to mine to go over the photographer schedules for this months events,” Jeno said. 

“Sounds good,” you responded before turning on your heels to head in the opposite direction. Jeno’s grip on your wrist had him tugging you back towards him. 

He stood above you with an annoyed expression on his face, pouting. He pulled your face close to his, mumbling about you being heartless before he planted a lingering kiss on your lips, of course drawing the attention of onlookers. Your cheeks were on fire when he pulled back, leaving you flustered and a bit embarrassed as he shot you a final wink before checking his watch and rushing off to his meeting. You turned around to head to debate club, wondering how exactly your biggest enemy had turned into the sweetest, most caring lover you could have ever asked for. 

[didsomeonesaydaddydraco]

Drive me crazy | Tom Felton one shot (smut)

Request: yes, by anon. 

Word count: 3,017

Pairing: Tom Felton x reader

Warning: sexual content, PDA, daddy kink, swearing, oral sex (female receiving)

It started as a stupid bet, and neither of us would have thought we would make it so serious. A month ago, Tom saw a stupid video on TikTok, where the couple wanted to see how long they can go without having sex. And of course he wanted to try it too. We both found it stupid, and thought we’d break after a week, but after eight whole days, we found a way to make it a little bit more spicy. Tom would come up behind me and kiss my neck while I was making breakfast, or I would go and sit on his lap in nothing but one of his tank tops. Small little things that we knew would drive the other crazy. We both tried to break the other and win this foolish bet. At first, I was actually glad that he found something that could make the quarantine life more interested, but when we reached the one month milestone in the bet, I knew we were both at the edge of madness. I had to do something. My body missed him, and I wanted to catch on fire when we were in the same room, yet alone in the same bed every single night. I would have gave up everything just to get my internal organs rearranged by Tom.

“Babe?” I called out his name. I heard the calming melody of the piano, and knew where I had to find him. I went to his little music room and watched how his long fingers ran on the keys. Tom always knew how to use those beautiful fingers of his. He looked up from the sheet music that was spread open in front of him and smirked at me. He knew very well what he was doing and he enjoyed seeing me suffer.

“Yes, darling?” His voice was low and he stretched his words. I had to bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from moaning. My eyes wandered back to his fingers that were playing a faster song now. 

“We need to go grocery shopping and I thought we could go to the mall real quick” I walked up to him and hugged him from behind. I slowly slid down my hands on his shoulder blades, down on his chest and leaned to his ear. My lips brushed his ear as a whispered in his ear “I’m in the mood of a little bit of shopping” I kissed the thin skin behind his ear and gently scratched his chest with my nails. I felt his whole body tensed under my touch. I smiled to myself, knowing that he was as famished as I was. He was in my hands, and I wasn’t going to give him any mercy.

———-

We were walking hand in hand in the mall, enjoying that we were finally out of the house, even if we had to wear our masks. Tom was talking about a new trick that he wanted to teach Willow, and I tried not to pour cold water on him by telling him Willow hated to learn new tricks, because she preferred play time and naps with her Daddy. My eyes were scanning the shops and the shopwindow, trying to find something that I actually liked, but all my previous plans about buying some new clothes for spring, and some new hoodies for Tom were long forgotten when my eyes caught a glimpse of my favourite lingerie shop. 

“Come” I dragged him with me. I knew all his weak spots, and one of them being Italian lingerie. Lord knows how many of it ended up in the bin just after hours of purchasing them. They made Tom go crazy and brought out the raw caveman in him, which always left me shaking in bed and not being able to walk properly for days. 

“Didn’t you buy this stuff last month?” He asked me with tilted eyebrows. He could be so daffy sometimes “Or did they end up in pieces?” I laughed and walked in to the store, with Tom closely following me. I knew what I wanted and what I had to do to get it, and I wasn’t planning to play a fair game with him. 

I walked around the store, looking for the most beautiful, most revealing lingerie that I could find. I was playing with the different kind of fabrics, showing Tom, asking him to feel it himself and imagine how good it must feel against my skin. With each set, his patience was getting smaller and smaller, and his actions became possessive - always blocking me from other male costumers who were there with their partners. I was dancing on very thin ice, but I wanted to break the ice. 

“I’ll go and try these on” I kissed his cheek sweetly, dangerously close to his lips. I went to the changing rooms with a few new pieces of lingerie and waited for him to catch up with me “Be a dear, and hold my bag in the meantime, yeah?” I smiled at him innocently and closed the door of the changing room. I hesitated about my choice, but I finally settled with a black, lacy set with a suspenders attached to the bottom. I let my hair out of the messy bun and checked my reflection. I was more than satisfied with what I saw in the mirror. The lingerie fitted perfectly, my hair was wavy from the bun and it covered my shoulders. My face was glowing, I had a little red colour in my cheeks and my eyes were dark from lust and the fire in them made them look like they were shining like stars on the pitch black sky. I slowly opened the door, and leaned to the frame, playing with the ends of my hair as a looked at Tom, who was sitting on the sofa, placed right in front of the changing rooms. He was doing something on his phone, but he dropped it the second he looked up and saw me. His eyes turned black from icy blue in just a second, and he was on his feet. 

“So” I smirked at him, straightening up and turning around so he could get a better look at my chosen set “What do you think?” As a response, he pushed me back to the changing room and closed the door behind him. He threw my bag to the corner and pushed me against the wall behind me. His hands were gripping my hips and his face was inches away from mine. I could feel his heavy breathing on my skin and the burning of his gaze on my body. This was the exact reaction I wanted from him. I grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer to me. His chest was pressed to mine and his thigh was between my legs, brushing against my aching core. 

“You drive me fucking crazy, woman” he growled in my ear and aggressively bit my skin on my shoulder. He was clever. He knew this game very well, and he still tried to win even though we both knew he lost the second he pushed me back to the changing room. Game was over, and I won our bet. And I knew my price was going to leave me shaking, screaming and unable to walk for days after this but it was so worth it “I want to taste you so bad” 

“Fuck this” I said and pulled him down to me. Kisses weren’t banned throughout the bet, but this definitely felt different than those. We didn’t care about it anymore, we just wanted to feel each other again. 32 days of abstinence was in that kiss. I felt his love, his lust, his struggle, his hunger and his desire. Tom’s grip got tighter and his kiss got deeper and more demanding. His hands wandered from my hips to my backside, smoothing his palms on the shape of it and grabbing it with such force it made me moan into his mouth. With this, he had the perfect chance to slip his tongue into my mouth and find its partner and ask it for a dance. I let go of my grip on his shirt and slowly slid down my right hand on his chest, his stomach and even more slowly on his abdomen until I reached him. He was already rock hard under my touch, and that deep groan that I loved so much broke out from him when I gently palmed him. With my left hand, I dig into his hair and pulled it slightly.

“Darling” he moaned and kissed alongside my jawline, his arms holding me closer than ever. I felt like a goddess under his touch. Tom’s hands left my backside and ran up on my back, straight to my hair. He pulled my hair with his left hand to tilt my head back so he could look into my eyes “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” His voice was deep and raspy, it was enough to push me into another dimension. Tom’s right hand grabbed my neck and held me in my place. He ran his thumb across my bottom lip and squeezed my neck gently, just how I liked it “You’ve been such a naughty little girl”

“Babe, please” I whispered and kissed his thumb, never breaking the eye contact. He was in my hands and I wasn’t letting him go so easily. Tom tilted his head to the side, his dark and dangerous side showing a little.

“Please what, princess?” He looked at me like a predator looks at its prey. My blood froze in my veins but blew up in just a second, under his gaze. I felt the heat rising between my legs and my knees seemed to be too weak to hold me any longer. Tom helped me to stay steady by locking my body between the wall and his body “Tell me what you want”

“Don’t be gentle” my voice was shaky. Tom cooed at me and brought his thumb to my lips, forcing it between my lips. I gently sucked on it and closed my eyes, imagining all the things I wanted to do to him and all the things I wanted him to do to me right there and then. 

“What else do you want?” His lips were on my neck, leaving wet kisses and bite marks all over my skin. He was trying to push me to my edges. He was controlling me, and I was happily obeying him, which turned him on even more. He lived for being in control and being dominant in the bedroom, and I was perfectly submissive for him “Say it, baby girl”

“I want you to push my knees apart and paint my thighs with purple kisses” my eyes were begging him. Begging for him to ease my pain and make me feel fully alive. I wanted to scream his name and hold onto him while both of us came down from our highs. 

“Such a good girl” Tom was satisfied with me. And when he was, he always rewarded me with something “Daddy fucking loves you” he whispered in my ears and let go of my neck, sliding down his hand on my chest, grabbing my breast, massaging it while his lips kissed me with passion and hunger. Tom’s hands were exploring my whole body, they were everywhere where I wanted him the most. 

“Tom” I whimpered under his touch. I was craving him and I had enough of the teasing. I was burning inside and needed him to let me cool down “Do something, damnit” he looked amazed by my sudden demanding and bold tone. His fingers finally found my genitalia and hummed at how wet I was already. He slid his finger in the black lace thong and stroked slowly between my folds, pushing on my clit to make me go crazy. He started moving his finger painfully slow on my clit, pushing on it harder  after a few strokes. He was fast to cover my mouth with his free hand to dim my moan when he suddenly pushed two fingers in me. Tom moved his fingers in a steady pace, not letting me to close my eyes. 

“Quiet, baby girl. We don’t want anyone to find out what we’re doing, do we?” He whispered in my ear and bit my earlobe gently. I nodded slowly, my eyes shutting at the pleasure of finally feelings his hands on me again. Tom pulled his finger out and brought it to my mouth, touching my lips with it “Now suck” he ordered and my lips parted automatically at his tone. He pushed his finger in my mouth, watching with a satisfied look on his face as a sucked on it “That’s it, darling. Now be a good girl for daddy and stay quiet”

“Yes, daddy” I whispered and leaned my head on the wall, closing my eyes and enjoying the wet kisses on my skin what Tom left on me as he slowly moved down on my body and kneeled in front of me. He pulled down my soaking wet undies and threw it to the other end of the changing room. He slid his hand up on my calf and grabbed my right leg and placed it on his shoulder. My hands found their way to his hair and pulled it softly when I felt his lips on the inner side of my thigh. He planted open kisses on it, biting on the thin and sensitive skin, sucking on it to leave his mark on my body for him to admire his work of art later. 

“So soft” he spoke in a low voice and kissed along my bikini line “And so wet” he blew on my clit which made me shiver from pleasure “All for me” Tom’s praising was melody to my heart and soul, and it just made me want him even more if it was possible. His lips pecked my skin, slowly finding their way to my core. I had to bit my bottom lip to stop myself from screaming a little when I finally felt his warm tongue flicking my clit and diving inside of my fold while his lips closed up on my clit. His hands were grabbing my thigh on his shoulder, and the other pushing my hip to the wall, forcing me to stay still. My back arched at the satisfaction and my fingers were tangled in his hair, pulling on it with every gentle stroke he left on me. 

“Look at me” I almost sobbed when Tom stopped for a bare second just to order me and bite on my skin again “I want you to look at me while I’m eating you out” I obeyed his order, knowing very well if I didn’t, he would have stopped “God, you taste so fucking good, princess” 

“Don’t stop” I whimpered and pushed his head back which made him chuckle darkly, but chose to give me what I wanted. He let go of my leg and teased my slit, drawing small circles, before spitting on it and pushing them inside without any warning. His fingers were hitting the right spot every time and he double my pleasure and joy with moving his tongue on my clit quickly. My breathing became heavier and quicker as I was getting closer and closer to reach my high. It was impossible to stop myself from shaking and pushing my lower parts to his face. He looked perfect between my thighs, with his fingers deep inside me and his tongue spelling the most beautiful poems on my clit, while his dark eyes drowned me in “Fuck, Tom” I hissed. He sped up the movements of his fingers and gently bit on my clit. The suddenly came slight pain pushed me to the very edge and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I covered my mouth from moaning his names loudly. It was a torture, not being able to show how amazing he felt. 

“Come on princess, come on my face” his breath tickled my pussy as he spoke “Be a good girl and come for daddy” he bit my skin above my Venus mound. His fingers curved inside me, making me see stars from pleasure. He harshly sucked on my clit, pushing his warm and strong tongue on it to give me the full satisfaction. His voice, his look, the way his fingers literally conjured me and a month without having him inside me was enough to completely destroy me and push me to the land of pleasure. My leg gave up and Tom had to hold me while I rode out my high on his face. I felt his smile on my skin and he cleaned me up with his tongue, enjoying the taste of me. He slowly pulled out his finger and brought it to his lips, licking my juice from them and smiling at me darkly. 

“Get dressed” he kissed me sweetly, but I could feel the hunger in it “We’re going home. I’m not finished with you yet” he said and tucked my hair behind my ear “I want to hear you scream my name” he whispered in my ear “I want you to shake under me and beg for me” I swallowed hard, already feeling myself getting hot just by his words. He gave me my clothes and turned around to leave me alone to get my clothes back on, but he suddenly turned around before he exited the changing room “And I’m buying all of these” he said and grabbed all of the lingerie that were still untouched and hung on the clothes peg. By the time I was ready, Tom already paid for the different coloured and different styled lingerie and was waiting for me impatiently in front of the store. It was safe to stay, we didn’t left our bedroom for the rest of the weekend. 

[youarejesting]

Sea [1/2]

Beta: @lillielil @aroseforyoongi​ @seokjinssymphony​ @kpooplifeforever​ @explosiveranga​​ & my good friend Z (let me know if I left anyone out.) Rating: 17+ Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Reader Genre: Action, Adventure, Angst, Fluff, Comedy, slow burn, slice of life. Words: 6.8k

Summary: After your plane to Korea takes an unexpected detour, you are stranded with someone you aren’t even sure speaks English. As the race begins to stay alive, emotions run high and tempers short. The unlikely contender in the survival race is love which snuck up on you both.

The thought of a thirteen-hour flight didn't bring you much joy. Why would it? Being trapped in a small box with wings, not to mention being stuck in said box with multiple people breathing recycled farts and eating some sort of wet styrofoam they called food that would most definitely give you food poisoning. Oh yes, what a joy it would be to be in a seat for hours on end, letting your skin slowly dry up. 

Arriving at the terminal, you stood waiting for them to start boarding. You would have been sitting if there was a single seat free. Seriously, some asshole had even dared to lay across no less than five and a half seats, his bag resting on the empty chair at the end. 

He was wearing all black and looked comfortable in his jeans and hoodie. His black cap pulled down over his eyes and you could see the bleached blonde hair sticking out from underneath. Big chunky headphones on his ears made it possible for this man to drown out the world around him.

You glared at his legs, growing tired, knowing that within a few hours you would be begging for the chance to stand up. If you were to take a mental count, there hadn’t been any nice experiences you could recall in regards to traveling on a plane.

Did that reflect the quality of service or your standard of air travel? No. Obviously, your standards were realistic, not expecting the flight time any shorter or the staff to give a foot massage or anything outrageous. 

You really didn't want any extra luxuries other than what was offered in the pamphlet — and yes, that meant you chose first-class — because if you were to suffer, you would do so in the best environment.

Unfortunately, the reality of it was that there was no better or more comfortable way to travel. Checking in, you would be boarding first before the other passengers, not really a privilege. However you got in line anyway behind the young man who had previously been lounging across the airport seats. He was holding up the line having lost his passport and you were getting more and more pissed. 

You were simply just having a bad day. 

A woman behind you started openly arguing, exclaiming that this man was not allowed to ride first class as he clearly wasn’t fit for it. Bringing up his style of dress and the headphones around his neck. You turned, glaring daggers at the woman until she became silent. 

Society taught people to judge based on appearance, that everyone fit into a category, never mind the old adage to ‘never judge a book based on it’s cover’. Stil, you were always respectful and treated others equally, maybe even getting to know a person that you wouldn’t in other circumstances. It always surprised you how much you enjoyed taking a risk and getting to know them.

Once you showed your ticket and passport, you traveled down the long hall towards the plane. You saw the man in front of you talking with another man. He seemed to respect him and was reading him a schedule from his phone. You raised your eyebrows and smiled at the young stewardess who welcomed you on board. Her hair was pristine in a tight bun and her crisp, dark blue outfit was paired with a red scarf.

Stepping over the small gap, you felt the cold of the air conditioning, yet the air still felt thick. There were three places you could go to feel this type of cold: the dentist, an airplane, or the movies. First class was spacious with only a single cubicle on either side of the aisle. You took your seat. It was like personal rooms where you could close a sliding screen for more privacy, even though you were sitting next to someone, you wouldn't be able to see them at all.

The seats were more like arm chairs that one could lay back completely in, made with a brilliant blue leather. The cubicle room was complemented in a similar shade but with red features. You had a tv and a tiny minibar that had a small selection of drinks and snacks.

The flight attendants took all the passengers through the safety instructions. You could practically write them at this point. However they added a few things you had never heard. You had never heard such in-depth instructions going beyond the general life jackets, floatation devices, and first aid kits. 

Never before had they told you about the airbags that would be deployed if you crash in the ocean. Apparently the emergency escape slides doubled as floatation devices and could hold up to one hundred and thirty people comfortably. They even explained how they detach these rafts from the fuselage and that they have ropes that allow them to be tied off to each other or the airframe. 

Distracted by a tired male sighing beside you, you wondered who would fall asleep during the safety messages. Sure they were boring, but even you pretended to care. When you turned to see the culprit, he was disappearing behind the plastic divider of his cubicle dragged by his long pale fingers.

Well, at least you had some privacy. It was something you were thankful for, you wanted to get comfortable, or as comfortable as you could.

Perhaps these new instructions and information were deemed irrelevant to domestic flights. Or perhaps it was for the very enthusiastic kid they led through the first class discussing more of the plane's anatomy. “What if a wing falls off?”

“The plane is really sturdy, the wing wouldn’t just fall off” She grinned, “Let’s see what the pilot is doing and we can get your mum a picture wearing the captain's hat!” 

After the flight attendants thanked everyone for listening, the plane took to the sky. You closed up all sides of your cubicle and requested to be only woken for meals. The stewardess was very diligent and for that you were grateful. 

The journey was nearing the six hour mark and all that one could see was clouds and the ocean. The collection of empty water bottles were a poignant reminder to relieve your bladder. 

You stood up and waddled determined to go to the bathroom. It was inconvenient to drink so much water but you didn't want to get dehydrated. 

Feeling much better, you took a few minutes to look in the mirror and moisturise as your skin was feeling particularly dry already. Startled from your self care routine by a light rapping on the door, you packed up your things and pulled open the door. Unfortunately, at that moment, the plane shook.

It was like something from a romance novel, the way you fell against him and yet, there was nothing elegant or poetic in the way you fell against him.

Your face slammed into his chest and his head hit the wall with a heavy thud. "Sorry, I'm sorry"

"Shibal" he said, his language was something unlike you have ever heard, it was rhythmic and sounded like a song. His voice was so low and rumbly it almost sounded like he was purring. 

You weren’t well versed in other languages or cultures, so you didn’t know what he was saying. This was your first time leaving your country. If it wasn’t for the damn holiday raffle at work, you wouldn’t have even left your house. Every other flight you had ever been on was domestic and therefore your suffering was short lived, but this flight was long and you were getting rather bored. It seemed your mind was reeling trying to absorb all that it could and currently that meant the poor man you had body slammed into the wall was under your perusal.

His body was thin unlike yours which was curvaceous. His hair was dark and shaggy making his pale skin almost ghostly. He had sharp cat-like eyes that were quite intimidating as they glared at you and his small downturned lips were yet to speak. He seemed like a man of few words. All this coldness was juxtaposed by his cute round nose. You could tell from his features that he was from Asia, but you couldn't pinpoint where.

Grabbing your shoulders, he started to push you off of him, when the plane shook again and you both fell back into the small bathroom. Your back hit the toilet, and a searing pain bloomed from the impact causing your body to lock up as it radiated through you.

The seat belt light came on. You both scrambled to your feet bumping into the walls, sink and each other from the unstable winds shaking the plane. Struggling back to your seats when the cabin pressure changed. There was a creaking sound and the plane started shaking. You immediately felt a sick sense of dread. The pilot spoke calmly about turbulence and requested everyone return to their seats. But the pair of you couldn't move down the aisle to your seats.

There was a sound like a car backfiring and someone from economy class shouted about the wing being on fire. Your grip on the young man's coat tightened and a terrifying sound like metal groaning filled the cabin. That didn’t sound like regular turbulence, you were sure of that.

Sharing a horrified look with the young man, you got up the courage to try to push off from the wall. Unsuccessful, you were once more pressed against the wall. The plane was plummeting. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the emergency box. What was this emergency and what in that box could fix this situation?

"You need to return to your seats,” the stewardess said. The smell of smoke was strong and it filled the inside of the plane quickly. You hadn’t even seen the stewardess trying to climb through the plane. Her grip strained on the walls and seats as she fought against the force pushing her back. “We are making an emergency landing." 

The metal sound was louder. Shrieking like nails on a chalkboard, it pierced through the cabin. You watched as the side of the plane ripped completely off with the ease of someone removing the plastic off a new fridge. There was a feeling of being weightless before a drop on a roller coaster, and then it was like your stomach was left behind. The stewardess was sucked out from the cabin behind you. 

You and the young Asian man were sliding backwards down the aisle trying to find something to grab onto. The floor in first class was some sort of linoleum and gave you a nasty burn as you slid. It was like fire against your skin. As the pilot fought with the plane, you practically bounced off every seat. 

It felt like you were weightless for a brief moment as you were lifted off the ground, your back hit the roof before you smacked the floor again. All the wind had been knocked out of you. 

The pilots were fighting against the drop, so in the moment of calm before the plummet, you grabbed the leg of an economy class seat as it was bolted to the ground. You looked at the young man, watching the panic as he realized he was too far away to hold on and dangerously close to the large opening. He began slipping out of the plane, his hands flailing before clamping around your ankle. The two of you were almost hanging outside the plane. 

Everyone in economy class was panicking and wearing oxygen masks. No wonder you couldn’t breathe. Gasping for breath, you cursed yourself for liking all those action movies that made this look easy. 

“Hold on!” You all but screamed more to yourself than the poor guy holding your leg. He was being completely battered by the wind. You felt his hands slipping and you reached down with one hand to grab his wrist and he grabbed yours. He looked thankful.

“Shibal,” he groaned, his voice straining. Your body was being stretched. The cold metal was unforgiving, and it tore apart the skin on your palm. Your eyes were watering in protest to the wind and smoke that was drying them out.

The drink trolley that the stewardesses had been moving through the aisles had gotten loose and went flying down the plane. It hit an old man in the back of the head. You knew he wouldn’t make it, and speaking of, it was headed straight for you. You watched in fear, like some horrifying game of chicken as the trolley came for you. Thankfully, it bounced on the floor inches from your hand and flew out of the plane. 

It was a mix of flinching and the force of the wind that made your hand on the chair slip. You slid further out of the plane, grabbing the exposed shell of the plane with your free hand. Your other hand desperately clutching the young man's hand watching in horror as he smacked into the side of the plane unconscious. “Shit!” 

His body was limp and you had to do something. With all the strength you had, you tried to pull his flailing form closer to protect him. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the ocean quickly advancing. You were going to hit the water.

The breeze pressing against you was fierce. Your eyes were dry, making you think of your eyedrops in your carry-on luggage. You could see the water coming up quicker now; you tried to gauge what would be a survivable height. Knowing you had a higher chance of surviving freediving as opposed to hanging halfway from the plane, where you would both slam head first into the plane. You decided to take the leap.

Screaming in absolute terror as you watched the fast approaching water, you let go just in time. It was equivalent to a few stories on a building from the ground. Wrapping him in your arms, you pointed yourselves down deciding to break the fall. Lifting your free hand above your head like you were doing a high dive, you hit the water. It was such a shock, the liquid was so cold it caused your muscles to lock up.

Your adrenaline was pumping, and one of your arms felt numb and unresponsive. You swam oddly to the surface, gasping when you felt the air on your skin. He was unconscious, and you held his face out of the water.

The plane wasn't too far away and for now was on the surface of the water. The emergency exit inflatable slide, which doubled as a raft, had been deployed but no survivors seemed to climb out.

You swam in a side stroke to keep your damaged arm and the young man's unconscious form out of the water. You hoped he was going to be okay. The only thought in your head was making it to the raft and you were doing everything in your power to get there, even contemplating leaving him behind. But you weren't going to give up, a part of you wanted to prove you could do it.

Reaching the raft felt euphoric. Taking a deep breath you pushed him into the raft. Doing a quick check of his head and body, you noticed he was breathing oddly. You turned him on his side and tried to clear his airway. A little bit of water trickled out before you performed CPR.  Your saving grace came when he coughed and spluttered, placing him in the recovery position and hoping he would be okay on his own for a moment. You looked around for any more survivors. There was luggage floating around, and you picked up all you could from the water. 

Walking along the inflatable back into the plane, the water was not as high in first class. This was probably due to the hole in the plane in the economy. The right side being the only one of the inflatables that had inflated beside the plane. Keeping the plane precariously afloat balancing on two inflatables which had malfunctioned and inflated under the plane.

Moving quickly and wading through the icy water, you grabbed the emergency kits on the wall. You had passed by deceased passengers and tried not to look. It was eerie and unbelievable even though it had only just happened.

Bags littered the water and you guided them towards the exit and put them on the raft. You could save these people's possessions for their family, or there could be items inside that could be of use and save your life. 

You also noticed the flight attendant area and raided the cupboards as quickly as you could. You grabbed the medical kit, some slippers, a range of very thin blankets that were wet and even some snacks carrying everything back to the floatation rafts. As an afterthought you braved a second trip back into the plane to grab your and the other man’s overhead luggage as you knew he would likely appreciate it.

Finding a bunch of cell phones floating around the cabin. You grabbed them all hoping one would be waterproof. You found a few that were still turned on, but only one seemed to have some sort of signal. The plane creaked as you started making the emergency call. 

“Come on” you begged the phone to connect. The whole plane creaked again and tilted; it wouldn’t last long. You had desperately searched for survivors but there was no one obviously alive. You tried your best to check their vitals, but time was running out. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be cursed for pronouncing everyone dead.

"Hello, this is an emergency service hotline?" A voice cut through the silence, you looked at the phone about to cry in relief "fire, ambulance or police"

"Hello, we were in a plane crash, my name is y/n, we were on a flight from Los Angeles to Seoul"

"What is your location?" the woman said, confused by your description.

"The ocean" you hissed "we are on a life raft"

"How many people are with you, what are their names?"

"Just one. I don't know his name. He is asian. Um really thin, um, has dark hair and—”

"You seem to be breaking up" the emergency operator said with the voice cutting out. You looked down at the phone in your hand and sighed. Of course, if everything was going wrong, a phone in the middle of the ocean apparently won’t save you. You thought to yourself, ‘it is 2021 so why isn’t service available everywhere?’ Pocketing the phone you began making your way out the plane.

You headed back to the inflatable and made the decision to cut the plane free. Scared that it would bring the raft down with it. Grabbing more luggage from the water, you thought it best not to watch the plane sink. It would only make you feel worse.

The time went by slowly. It took hours for the plane to disappear. Even though you had promised yourself not to look, you had. Taking glances as the plane slowly sank and you drifted further away. 

The moment the plane was no longer in sight, you curled up and let the tears fall. The sun began setting and the heat turned into a bitter cold. Your wrist was still quite swollen, and you decided to wrap it as you drifted along. You had been so sure that there would be something or someone to see you drifting, and you would be saved. 

However one cold night became two, and then three, only breaking for the scorching heat of the day. 

You thanked yourself for watching all those ‘lost on an island’ movies and television shows; you had learned some things along the way. You also had your father to thank for always dragging you along to the volunteer emergency services programs, ones where you learned how to survive in a forest. At the time you thought it was super lame for your friends to go to nice hotels by the beach for their holidays and you were making some sort of mealworm dish while making stick shelters.

Going over the information you had in your head, you knew water was the priority. The instructor had said humans can go three weeks without food, three days without water, three hours without shelter and three minutes without air. 

The sun would dehydrate you quickly. You had made a small shelter with luggage and blankets to protect you from the sun. 

If you didn’t find land, you were going to have to make some sort of man-made evaporation device to create water. As it was, you were slowly getting the unconscious young man to drink little amounts of bottled water, for he too needed to stay hydrated. 

The man you were with had awoken the third day. He seemed a little freaked out about being alone at sea. You explained calmly, not wanting him to do anything drastic and he sat there processing things. 

You gave him a bottle of water and something to eat. The two of you continued drifting, not speaking a word to one another. You spent most of the time trying to craft something to float on the ocean and create clean drinking water. 

(This evaporation device floats on the ocean and mimics rain by the water droplets sticking to the plastic cover over the whole device when weighted in the middle it then drips back down into a bottle. I can find a reference picture if you need. [Here] [Here] [This one is like what I made in 7th grade camp])

But you couldn’t get the water to land in the bottle and the bottle to stay upright. He was no help, just laying in the shelter out of the sun. The raft was big enough for about one hundred and thirty people. And yet, the two of you sat close by and didn’t say a word.

You were covered in sweat and felt absolutely disgusting. It was time for you to get changed. What a stupid way to die, not from dehydration, or malnourishment, or even sun exposure, but from lack of hygiene. It was decided. 

“I am getting changed, don’t look,” you breathed, opening your carry-on bag.

“I don’t want look,” he muttered back in English and turned away. You quickly put on something that covered your shoulders and tried getting some rest. You didn't want to alarm him, but you both had consumed the last of the water and food rations.

It was late that night when you heard a different sound. The raft was moving a lot more. These were big waves and a part of you hoped it was not a tsunami or whale activity.

When the sound got louder, you were reminded of the beach when waves crashed on the sand. Looking up, you saw something big approaching. It was a body of land. Suddenly, your chances of survival greatly increased, now that you had a way to get out of the water. Nervous about putting your hands in the pitch black water, you looked at your companion peacefully sleeping and made the decision to paddle slowly. Anything to increase your chances of getting to safety. You eventually washed up on the beach, arms aching and stepped out to drag the raft onto the sand.

It was late and still dark, but you had to do something. Thinking that perhaps if you found someone, you would both be saved straight away. You waited on the raft until the sky lightened, and then you got to work collecting sticks and starting a small fire. You took the empty water bottles, hoping to find a clean water source or some fresh water that you could boil.

You walked to the highest point in sight, not seeing any signs of large predatory animals was a good sign. When you reached the top, you felt a sense of satisfaction as you had overcome the many trials and tribulations. You made it through a plane crash, survived on the water, and made it to land. 

Looking around, you saw something bone-chilling. This was an island and judging by the lack of people, houses or establishments, it was uninhabited. There was no civilization to be seen. You saw the tufts of smoke from your fire and tried not to cry. You were stuck here until someone could rescue you. 

Pushing the minor breakdown aside, you thought about water, it was important. Scanning the island, there seemed to be a small waterfall and tiny lagoon at the bottom. Since the rain, the waterfall was running pretty fiercely. You mapped out a path back to the beach which would detour past the waterfall.

By the time you reached the beach, your arms were exhausted with the weight of the now filled water bottles. He was awake and briskly brushing his reddened cheeks with his sleeves, turning his back to you. Sympathising with the man who probably thought you died, fell overboard or abandoned him.

You pulled out the metal pot from the plane and began boiling the water, in an attempt to kill any bacteria in it. The tide was going out. you knew you should be thinking about food as the next priority, but you wanted to sleep. Being primarily awake for a few days was taking its toll.

It took everything in you to get yourself to move and get to work. Taking large rocks, you carried them into the water until you were knee-deep. You were building a V- shaped wall, so when the tide came in, it brought with it fish and when the tide went out, they would be trapped. 

Pouring the now cooled water into the bottles, you started thinking about your plan. First, you thought about short-term needs, in case you were rescued soon, and then long-term needs, in the event you weren’t rescued for months or perhaps years. You paused, forcing yourself to think and accept the fact that there was a chance you would never be rescued.

The Asian man had gotten up and looked around hopefully. Handing him a now clean and sterile bottle of water, you frowned looking around with him. "There is no one here." He didn't say a word, staring at you while drinking slowly.

You huffed, trying to figure out how you two could survive on an island. He watched you fuss around trying to make a shelter out of sticks but it collapsed everytime. 

“Just no,” he muttered. You tried not to openly sneer at him. Grabbing the raft, you dragged it across the sand. As the raft was built for a large group, it seemed all you were doing was digging your feet into the sand. But little by little it was dragged up the beach thanks to the tide. It took some convincing but you had gotten help from the young man. The two of you madly struggling to lift the inflatable slide to a tilt against a tree. It was still inflated so you hoped you could use it for something else if needed.

Before the tide came in that evening, you ran out to the water. Your hopes were crushed when you found no fish and saw that the wall had broken. Carrying more large rocks into the water and making the V bigger and stronger, things weren't looking great, but you were trying to do your best. Cold from splashing around in the water, you went back to the shelter, but the fire had gone out by this point. 

Looking at the young man, you let out an exasperated sigh. Did he not care for his life or yours? Contemplating while gathering more wood, you realized that you had been doing all the work, while he was just lazing around. “We need more wood, come help,” you gestured for the young man to follow, but he sneered at the thought and leaned away from you.

“I just lay uh here and wait to…” he thought over his words, slowly forming an English sentence “die or be rescue,” he mumbled. You were too exhausted to argue. It could wait until tomorrow, and you would both freeze tonight. Maybe then he would understand the importance of working together towards a goal.

You felt absolutely disgusting. hearing the loud patter of rain, you walked down the length of the shelter. On one side was the raft, and on the other was the luggage, built into a wall. You took out some clean clothes and stepped into the rain. Peeling off your seawater and sweat drenched clothes, you stood in the dark and tried washing your body with a tiny travel soap you had found in a bag. 

You scrubbed your body of sweat and turned back to the shelter. Grabbing your towel, and wrapping it around your body, you stepped inside. He was laying on the makeshift bed you had prepared. He looked over, and when he saw you just in a towel, he rolled away. It was embarrassing, you who loved privacy and comfort were showering all exposed in the rain and getting changed in the same vicinity as a stranger. That night, he took the only dry blanket, so you laid there with wet hair and damp skin, shivering. 

You were thankful for the sun rising, and it took a few minutes for you to thaw enough to move, but when you did, you deemed it time for him to do some work. The two of you gathered sticks and leaves. He barely helped, and when he got back, he laid back down and fell asleep in the shelter.

Building a fire, with the wood, took some time as it had rained the night before. The leaves helped fuel the flames. The fire didn't have to be amazing, you just needed it for warmth. You also hoped some rescue teams might even see the faint smoke.

At the sound of your stomach calling for sustenance you got up and went to check the rock wall you made and found a fish swimming in the shallow water. You grinned, carrying it back making sure to stoke the fire. You were doing your absolute best with the emergency kit knife.

You must have looked pitiful, as your companion took over, filleting the fish with ease, and he even cooked it. The two of you had fish for breakfast and you felt satiated. You took some of the supplies and got ready to set out for food and fresh water. He was dressed and trying to follow you, so you let him carry some of the empty bottles.

Except he wasn't cut out for endurance, he got winded quickly. It reminded you of the time you passed out during a school marathon. Yet you made the best of the situation that you could, walking slowly until you came across some sort of fruit that the birds were eating.

You took a couple of pieces of rotten fruit and then carefully dug up the small plant and began carrying it back. He followed you back. You placed the plant down. Using your hands you tried to shift the dirt until you had a decent hole where you could plant the little fruit tree. Watering it with some of the water you had collected from the lagoon, internally wishing the plant would flourish. It was hard pouring the fresh water on the plant but you had to if you wanted food.

You mapped out an area and put sticks in the ground in a box-shape, in hopes of starting a garden of any edible plants found throughout the island.

You took the old fruit you collected off the ground, put it around the bottom of the tree, and gave a small hopeful sigh. “Hopefully it will break down in the soil and feed the plant. Our fate is in your hands little plant”

You spent another night sleeping in the makeshift shelter and had to decide on what to do, so you sat up and turned to the young man.

"Hey, are you awake?" He sat up, his eyes narrow, "what do we build? Shelter? or a garden for food?"

He blinked before choosing "Shelter?” you giggled at his confusion, not trying to be rude. He knew more English than you knew Korean and that was definitely a feat.

“A home”

“Home, food later" he shrugged

It rained heavier, bringing with it a sense of sadness. There was no one waiting for you, no one looking for you. The tears began falling and you tried to stifle the sounds. He was still and you hoped he didn’t hear the breakdown. You hoped he was sound asleep as this seemed to be his skill. You were sadly mistaken; he wasn’t asleep. He moved and draped a blanket over you. He only drifted off when you exhausted yourself from crying.

Waking up with your back pressed to his back, the two of you had shared a few airplane blankets. Your body was aching, from sleeping on the ground. It was time to build the shelter both of you had been discussing. You needed someplace safe from the elements and a place with some sort of makeshift bed. Sand felt so soft, but was uncomfortable to sleep on.

Standing in the morning breeze, you began thinking: “How does one even build a house?” If people can make houses with only the land, then so could you. You had no excuse.if it didn’t work, you could try again until you figured it out. You knew there should be some sort of foundation. You could build between two trees, or with a big pillar in the middle, or four walls like a traditional home. Whatever you were going to do, you needed the materials, namely wood, but it’s not like you could just rip a tree out of the ground with your bare hands. You needed tools. Unfortunately, this island didn’t have a hardware store. This wasn’t like minecraft; you couldn’t just create perfect tools from nothing. Or, could you?

You got to work trying to make some sort of mock Stone Age axe. It gave you blisters, but you had successfully chopped a single tree down. Getting the hang of chopping the trees with your primitive tool, you had four trees ready on the seventh day. You dug holes in the sand, but it wasn’t holding the trunks at all. They kept toppling over. He told you it wouldn’t work, and you only huffed in response. 

You would have to dig, until you found harder ground. This took another week, but you had four tree trunks in the ground in a modest square. You had started feeling dizzy while working, and your head felt clouded. It had been raining ever since you arrived, every night and lightly throughout the day, you didn’t think you had felt warm in a few days.

While making a wall frame out of trees, you started to feel dizzy again. You tied together the thin logs with multiple vines, and you hoped they would stay. The more you worked, the more your hands got torn up. 

You were tying the last of the frame, when you felt your body grow heavy. You were so tired. You thought you would die by the hands of the lazy man. With that, all other thoughts left you as the darkness crept in. 

The shelter was warm. There was a fire, and the blankets were wrapped around you, keeping you warm. Beside you was a bottle of water and a packet of painkillers. “Fever,” he sighed, “all work makes you uh… quick death?”

“Well, at least I am doing something. I have kept you alive, in the plane, in the water and now. I have done everything and what have you done other than act arrogant and lazy?” You said, “You haven’t even told me your name. We are stranded on an island. Maybe we will be rescued tomorrow, and it will be all in vain but what if it’s not tomorrow? What if it's months or a year from now?”

“What if never safe?” He argued, not looking at you.

“The point is, I don’t want to die in my twenties. I don’t want to die in general. I had dreams, to get married, have a family and be a loving wife. I was working a stupid office job, and I loved it. I won’t give up that dream. I will live with the hope that one day we will be rescued, and I will keep us alive goddamn it.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.” He gave a dry laugh, “I have no care. I was not… supposed be on the plane.”

“I need you alive. I can’t do this on my own. If-” You took a deep breath, “If you die, I might do something stupid. I can’t live an undetermined number of days on my own”

He went quiet. 

“Think about someone else for a change, it’s not all about you, Mister Asshole.”

“Yoongi,” he mumbled

“What?” You asked, too tired to be mad.

“My name is Yoongi.” He left the shelter, and you were left sobbing in the dark.

You woke up to Yoongi cooking fish on the fire; you were not expecting it. He hadn’t really done anything to help you. He mostly sat around, but the two of you ate together before you got to work. It was after a few hours you noticed Yoongi was gone again. It disheartened you that he was off doing whatever again, while you were working. You were completely exasperated by the young man, he maddened you, always on your mind. He was hot and mysterious and you hate that you couldn’t stop thinking about him because he acted nice once.

You began opening the suitcases hoping you wouldn’t offend anyone by going through personal belongings of the deceased. Clothes in all different sizes mens and womens, all different styles and one suitcase broke you, filled with tiny onesies and cloth diapers, dummies and ointments and medicines for a tiny baby. A pretty purple rattle with a cute butterfly on the handle.

You slammed the suitcase shut and pushed it across the sand to look at another day but for now you needed to step aside, the wound was too fresh. These were real people who died and yet why did you two survive, the most unlikely pairing with the worst odds and yet you survived when countless innocent lives were lost. It wasn’t fair.

A few days had passed, and you were trying to create something sturdy enough to withstand wind and rain with a roof and walls. You had plenty of resources, but you had to pick the right ones that would last. 

You thought about it and decided to use the raft to line the inside of the house in the tarp-like material. It was super long, so you could do the roof and the four walls and still have the whole underside left over. You would weave leaves and sticks together to make them sturdier and layer them on the outside. 

Putting your plan to action seemed easy yet tedious. You collected long palm leaves, removed the spines, and weaved the leaves tightly together, and laid them on the floor. The more you weaved, the faster you got. Painstakingly working every day, you rejoiced when all four walls, roof, and floor were finished and stable.

While you were doing all this, Yoongi was nowhere to be seen. He returned at night, as he always did. He looked unbothered by all the work you had accomplished that day. You finished up, and the two of you ate and went to bed, which was just a collection of woven leaf mats covered in some of the leftover tarp from the raft.

You had moved the items from the shelter into the new house area. The two of you sat on the remaining raft fabric. “I made a bed out of leaf mats and covered it in the leftover material.” 

Yoongi seemed impressed looking around, “잘 했어.”

“Jal haess-eo?” you repeated the sounds “What does that mean?”

“Uh… good work” He took your hands and pulled out a small succulent leave from his pocket snapping it and squeezing out the liquid inside. Applying it to the cuts and scratches on your hands gently. You noticed his hands were rough too, for he had cuts and blisters littering the his palms as well. 

“Where did you find aloe vera?” you asked curiously. What had he been doing?

“Near the…” he made an action with his hand “폭포”

“The what?” You laughed, and he cracked a slight smile.

“Water shaaaa!” he made the sound and gesture of water falling. You laughed hysterically. He was so cute, when you got to know him.

“Waterfall?” you prompted, checking that was what he had meant.

“Ah waterfall!” he nodded, “Near the waterfall”

“What did you call it?” you said. You were genuinely interested. He had been trying his best to communicate with you in your language, so maybe you could learn some of his to ease the burden “Pog-o”

“폭포” he corrected. 

“Pogpo” You smiled at him. he seemed a little happy that you were giving his language a try. “How do you say good night?”

“안녕히 주무세요” he said and you blinked shocked, so he grinned,speaking slower in syllables “Ann-yeong-hi ju-mu-se-yo.”

“Annyeonghi,” you repeated. He seemed eager to teach you more, so you stayed up as long as you could, learning Korean phrases until you both fell asleep.

[Part 2/2] coming soon...

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Bumps and Bruises • M.M

(GIF is not mine)

Request: Hi! Sorry, May I ask for a Marlene McKinnon x fem!/gn! reader fic, Soulmate AU where they feel each other's pain. — anon

Summary: Two Quidditch rivals finding out they’re something...more (Soulmate AU)

Warnings: Mentions of food/eating, injury description, brief mention of blood

Word Count: ~2k

A.N: NonGryffindor!Reader, this is my first time doing a Soulmate AU so I hope this is ok! It’s hard to find a balance between Soulmate AU and normal AU, but I’m sure I’ll get better with it in practice! The ending is kinda iffy imo, but it’s not terrible. Hope you enjoy!

****

The first thing you feel when you wake up on Friday morning is a flare up of painful throbbing blossoming across the outer part of your right thigh.

You groan, prying your eyes open and pull back your blanket.

The pale light filtering through your curtains is enough to see the grotesque purpling of swollen skin. You poke and prod at your thigh, occasionally hissing out in agony.

The bruise is both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

Its circular shape is something you see all the time. As a Beater on your Quidditch team, Bludger bruises were commonplace. The issue is, and this is where the mark becomes unfamiliar to you, when you went to sleep last night, there was no evidence of any such mark.

This was peculiar because you never had a history of sleep Quidditch, and you’re sure that if you got up in the middle of the night in a trance, at least one of your dorm mates would’ve told you.

And this certainly wasn’t some accidental hitting your bed frame sort of injury. This was ten inches in diameter, black and blue like a ball of pure iron slammed into you. As a self proclaimed Quidditch expert, you’re fully aware of what caused this.

But this conclusion brings up more questions than answers. Sure, you had practice after classes yesterday, but you would remember being hit full force—and you don’t.

But you have no time to sit and ponder over this mystery, you have to make it down for breakfast and then endure hours of classes. If only you could skip ahead to tomorrow’s match against Gryffindor.

You limp your way through the dorm, unable to put the usual amount of weight on your right leg. The room is empty, save for Bedelia, who, as usual, is still snoring underneath her blanket. On your way out, you make sure to wake her up by slamming the door shut as hard as you can.

Hobbling down to the Great Hall with a bag of heavy books slung over your shoulder is no easy feat even when it’s something that constantly happens.

The Great Hall is buzzing, though most of the noise is coming from the Gryffindor table.

The ceiling reflects the morning, bright blue and not a cloud in sight.

By the looks of it, the Gryffindor Quidditch team just got back from their morning practice, still panting and sweaty. For the entire week leading up to a match, James Potter, their captain, makes them practice and go through relentless drills in preparation. When they’re not on the pitch, he’s quizzing them on maneuvers. You’re lucky that your captain and fellow Beater, Morgana Sharpe, gives you the day before a match off, mostly to rest and review. If Potter was your captain he would’ve ended up in St. Mungo’s by now.

Your eyes wander over to Marlene McKinnon, her blonde hair up in a bun, face red and splotchy from practice, bare arms showing off muscle. Her chest heaves under her scarlet top.

“Practicing getting your arses handed to you?” You joke, leaning against their table.

Marlene scoffs. “Oh, you wish.”

Her deep brown eyes find yours, a troublesome twinkle shining through.

“Focus, Marlene, can’t have you fraternizing with the enemy!” James laughs out between mouthfuls of eggs.

“More like flirting with the enemy.” Sirius snorts, leaning closer to Remus, who chuckles into his glass.

“Oi! Piss off, Black!” Marlene snaps, the red on her face spreading.

Dorcas squeezes in next to her, dittany in hand. “How’s the leg, Marls?”

“Aw.” You pout. “Did McKinnon get a boo boo during practice?”

She scowls at you. “Don’t you have a potion to blow up?”

You clench your jaw and ball your hand into a fist. She’s got a point.

“Alright, enough trash talk, you two, leave it for the pitch.” James rolls his eyes.

Instantly, a weight lifts from your shoulders.

“I gotta go eat, anyway.” You smile warmly at your sort of friends. “So I’ll see you guys in class.” You wave before turning to your own table.

You join the rest of your team the table, squeezing through the tight huddle. Parchment is scattered all over the surface, some with crude drawings of maneuvers, some with written stats.

“Right, now that we’re all here,” Sharpe grunts our in her thick Irish accent, shooting you a disgruntled look. “We have a change of plans.”

“Change of plans?” Webb, one of your Chasers, asks. He looks up from his diagram, eyebrows raised.

“Greene’s soulmate took a tumble and landed him in the hospital wing. Can’t play tomorrow’s match.” She scowls, drawing clenched tightly on her hand.

“Again?” Your team groans.

Rupert Greene spends more time in the hospital wing due to his soulmate’s clumsiness than from playing a dangerous magical sport. That’s the way it’s been for the four years you’ve known him, and you have a hunch that it’ll never change.

“So we’re gonna have to put in Knight? Against Gryffindor?” Webb cries out, eyes wide. “No offense, but he isn’t ready to take on those pricks!”

Sharpe runs a hand through her dark brown hair. “Well, I guess we all just need to pray to Merlin some Gryffindor gets knocked off their broom.” She sighs.

The news of Knight replacing Greene for the match against Gryffindor puts you in a sour mood, making the bruise on your thigh throb more painfully.

You march through the corridors, face contorted in a permanent frown, barely paying attention to your lessons. You do, however, manage to keep your potion from exploding, which Slughorn is thrilled about. Match notes and plays take over your free time, pushing all your homework to Sunday, quickly deciding that this match is far too important. Marlene sticks her tongue out at you whenever she gets the chance as she hobbles through the corridors or looks away from Flitwick in your shared Charms class.

Sharpe drags you and the rest of the team up to bed at nine, lecturing you all about a good night’s rest. You roll your eyes, but you do only spend half an hour studying moves before heading to bed.

You wake up jittery.

You’re always nervous the morning of normal Quidditch matches, but this isn’t a normal Quidditch match. Gryffindor has gone undefeated for the entire season so far, and you just need to beat them. You crave to watch the smug look fall from James’ face and the cocky attitude that Sirius is infamous for crumble. You want to win. At the same time, though, you’re hesitant to see the frown on Marlene’s face. Those perfect lips deserve to shaped in a perfect smile.

Your bruise isn’t as irritated as yesterday. It’s still black and blue, but you really need to dig your thumb into it for it to hurt.

You stretch, listening to your joints pop before strutting down to the Great Hall to join the rest of your team.

Taking a deep breath before making your way through the threshold, you try your best to calm down and radiate confidence. You crack your knuckles and make your way to your table.

Marlene throws you a playful glare across the room, which you teasingly reciprocate.

Breakfast is a quiet affair for your group. Feet tap impatiently against the stone, nervous habits running wild.

The weather is perfect for Quidditch. There’s a slight breeze and a couple fluffy white clouds drifting through the blue sky, providing the occasional blotch of shade. It reassures you and calms you down on your walk down.

Sharpe gives her usual pep talk in the locker rooms. It’s all about blood, guts, and glory, and how we better not mess this up for her or else “she’ll haunt us from the great beyond.” Knight is white as a sheet, trembling underneath his robes.

The crowd roars out from the stands just above, your cue to make your grand entrance. Brooms are taken off their positions in the wall and in a single filed line, you all follow Sharpe out onto the pitch.

“And here it is, everybody,” Remus’ voice calls out over the chaos. “Captain Sharpe, (Y/Ln), Webb, Byrne, Spade, Opal, and their reserve, Knight!”

Your house cheers louder at your introduction, your eardrums pounding. You smile and nod at the crowd, excitement bubbling up inside of you.

“While the two captains are taking positions and shaking hands,” You hear as you mount your broom, Potter and Sharpe facing each other. “I have been paid quite a significant amount to say that according to James Potter, Lily Evans looks absolutely gorgeous today—“

“That has nothing to do with the match, Lupin!” McGonagall cries.

“Godric, Minnie. I’m just doing some adverts, it’s all good. No need to—“

A large thwack echos throughout the pitch, but you’re too wrapped up in Hooch blowing the whistle.

Quickly, you soar up in the air, Beater’s bat in one hand, chasing after your teammates to defend them.

You barely hear Remus over the whistling of the wind and your own grunts.

You watch Marlene laugh after she bats a Bludger away from James, the bat giving off a wicked crack. You’re momentarily mesmerized by her figure. How her tongue peeks out in concentration and her ponytail bounces wildly in the wind.

A moment passes and your arm erupts in pain, and to add onto that, you’re hurtling towards the grass.

You clutch your arm and brace for impact, breath being forcibly ripped from your lungs. Tears well in your eyes from both the pain and the air lashing against your body. Your Quidditch robes flap wildly behind you.

The landing, however, isn’t that bad. You end up in the grass, your bad arm protected. You assume Dumbledore is the one to thank.

You let out strangled pants, sky spinning around you, a piercing whistle sharp against your ears. Your arm screams in agony.

“(Y/Ln)!” Sharpe calls out, broom clutched in one hand. “You alright?” Her face shines with sweat.

“Bloody hell, she’s got quite the swing.” You groan, face contorting in anguish.

In the corner of your rotating vision, you watch red and gold blurs crowding around someone else.

Madam Hooch and the rest of your teammates are talking, but you can’t understand a word they’re saying.

Tendrils of black fog enter your vision and suddenly you’re out cold.

You recognize the hospital wing bed immediately. It’s firm, but not unbearable, the white cotton sheets rubbing against any exposed skin.

“So (Y/Ln) and McKinnon, eh?”

It’s garbled and you’re unable to place the voice, but it’s understandable.

“What’s this ‘bout me and McKinnon?” You manage to slur out, eyes blinking open, the figures above you blurry.

The world gradually clears itself up, your teammates surrounding your bed. Your left arm is wrapped tightly to your chest with a white cotton sling. The pain is dull, but it’s the most noticeable feeling present.

“Ah, well...” Webb scratches the back of his neck, averting his eyes.

“They’re talking about how I finally felt my own strength.”

Slowly, you turn your head to see Marlene sitting up on her bed, carefully watching over you. Her friends surround her, knowing smirks gracing their faces.

Her blonde hair is a bit of a tangled mess from the wind, but her smile is blinding in the light.

“You mean...” Your eyes widen in shock.

Marlene nods her head. “Soulmates.”

You bite your lip in response.

“I mean, it was pretty obvious, wasn’t it?” Sirius asks, looking between his friends for approval. “They literally wake up covered in bruises after like every Quidditch match!”

“Shut up, Pads!” Remus hisses, smacking him on the leg. “They’re having a moment.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and holds his hands up in mock surrender.

Your eyes drift to your thigh where the mysterious bruise was.

“I’m guessing you got hit by a Bludger during practice?” You ask.

“And you’re the one that gave me that broken bloody nose during detention!” Marlene exclaims.

You nod shyly, remembering when Knight accidentally threw the Quaffle at your face during a late night practice.

“Are we really that bloody stupid?” You laugh.

“You want a real answer or...?” James starts, repositioning his glasses.

Marlene shoves James off her bed, and he yelps before ungracefully tumbling to the floor with a crash.

“Guess this is our cue to leave the two stupid lovebirds alone.” Lily giggles before patting her friend on the back and leaving, the Marauders and your own team trailing close behind her.

Because the bones in your arm are practically shattered, you’re confined to the hospital wing for at least another day, but with Marlene at your bedside, it’s been made bearable. You talk about all those mysterious injuries you’ve acquired over the many years and learn the extent of your idiocy.

With various bumps and bruises to match, at the end of the day, the two of you are much more than Quidditch rivals.

[dettiot]

Star Wars Cutting Edge AU. Padme is a figure skater in need of a partner, Anakin is a hockey player shoved into spandex, and coach Obi-Wan needs a drink.

The first thing Anakin Skywalker thought as he stepped into the rink was how amazing it would be to have private ice. No sharing, no gawkers, no press. No one to mock him if this very crazy idea didn’t work.

And then he got a better look at the woman skating at the far end, and his brain stopped working.

She was . . . beautiful. Small and brunette, with fair skin and a beauty mark on each cheek, with pouty lips creased in a small frown of concentration.

He wanted to see her smile. Smile at him, with those big brown eyes lighting up and--

“Where’s Organa?” she demanded, sparing him only a glance before looking at Kenobi. “I thought you said he’d be here.”

“You said Organa,” Kenobi said, his voice pleasant and even but with an underlying iron to it. “This is Skywalker--Anakin Skywalker. He’s a beautiful skater.”

Wait, this was Padme? The intelligent yet guarded skater that Kenobi had sold him on?

“Skywalker?” she asked, looking at him again. Then her eyebrows lifted. “Wait. You’re that hockey player.”

Anakin wasn’t sure what he was hearing in her voice, but . . . it didn’t really seem like she was going to give him a chance. And he didn’t want to give up so fast. So calling upon all those manners his mother had drilled into him, he stepped onto the ice and held his hand out to her. “Hi.”

You could practically see the wheels turning in her head. She was definitely smart--but she was way more than guarded. She was practically an iceberg, all cold and distant.

Still . . . she took his hand, her fingers a bit limp until they made contact with his own. And then her eyes widened at the electricity that jumped between them.

And she wasn’t the only one with wide eyes.

Suddenly, she yanked her hand away and lifted her chin. “This idea is crazy.”

“True, it is . . . out of the box,” Kenobi conceded. “But that’s why you chose to train with me after Vancouver. How about you see Anakin skate, and the two of you get to know each other a little, before we make any decisions?”

There was something about Kenobi--he seemed like a college professor, but his voice was firm and Anakin got the same vibe from him as from the best foremen he’d worked under on all those construction jobs. It was clear that Kenobi expected to be listened to.

Padme Amidala did, at least. She sighed a little and nodded. “All right.”

“Good,” Kenobi said, reaching into his bag and handing Anakin a pair of skates. “Get these on and let’s get started.”

He didn’t hesitate, ready at least to get on the ice. To show the ice princess that he actually could do this.

The skates weren’t different from hockey skates. That was what he thought, until he started moving and noticed the teeth at the top of the blade.

“What are these?” he asked, gesturing towards his blade, as he got close to Padme.

“Toe pick,” Kenobi said. “Now, let’s just see the two of you skate, nice and easy. Anakin, place your left hand on Padme’s hip--with your fingers pointing in towards her stomach. Padme, place your right hand in Anakin’s. All right, let’s begin: one and two and one and two--”

On the second two, Padme took off. It was different, skating this close to someone. And for someone with such short legs, she could fly across the ice.

Suddenly, she moved faster than he was, slipping away from his left hand but still holding his right hand. Anakin tried to pick up the pace, but suddenly, one of the toe picks dug into the ice, making him lose pace.

Instead of helping to steady him, Padme dropped his hand and Anakin stumbled, landing flat on his face.

Ugh. He’d fallen a million times on the ice, but it always sucked. And this time sucked a lot more, because Padme dug her toe pick into the ice to help her turn, demonstrating flashily how figure skates were different from hockey skates.

“Toe pick,” she said sweetly, before turning and skating away from him.

Anakin looked up at Kenobi, who was stroking his beard with narrowed eyes.

The smart thing would be to get up, thank Kenobi for his time, and get the hell out of here. But then Kenobi looked at him, with not a trace of doubt in his eyes. And Anakin looked over at Padme, who was skating so gracefully and smoothly, trying to look like wasn’t looking over towards him.

But she was. And whenever their eyes met, Anakin saw something deep in those depths.

Something that told him this was where he was supposed to be.

Pushing himself up, Anakin squared his shoulders and skated towards Padme. “Let’s give this another try.”

She opened her mouth, but Anakin didn’t give her a chance to say anything. He took up his position again, but this time, he held her hip a lot tighter and laced his fingers through hers. Then he nodded to Kenobi.

“Padme?” the coach asked, sounding a bit surprised.

Anakin looked down at her dark hair, pulled back into a perfect bun, and the tight line of her shoulders, and he wondered what her story was. If maybe he could get her to unbend enough to talk to him. But that woudn’t happen until he proved himself, he thought.

A thought that was proven correct when she nodded back to Kenobi and he counted off again.

And this time, they moved as one.

End.

[ddullahan]

hadestown au 1

HI SO My anxiety has been through the fuckin roof for the past few weeks and in a fit of stress I deleted the first look of the bees hadestown au that I posted a few weeks ago. I’m feeling much better now and I wanted to repost it because I really am super excited about it >< Anyway, second verse, maybe same as the first, here we go! ---------------- it’s an old song As all tales begin, there comes a moment of question. The precipice we all stand at, toes hanging over the edge, eager to take the plunge. The question, different for every eye and ear turned to the story, starts as a feeling. It buoys us through the long swathes of paragraphs ahead. It seeps into our minds, and pushes us off the edge. We have that moment of freefall. Of realisation. We have to trust in something to catch us. Like most fairy tales, it begins with once upon a time. There laid a railroad track.   If you've ever heard the rails sing on a good, windy day, you'd know the sound sticks to the back of your mind. There to stay until the dark of night, when it creeps up to whisper wanderlust into your bones. The song of the rails is a low and resonant thing, humming into the willows scattered along the railroad sides. They used to say the rails were the Fates groaning in your ears. Urging you along. Waiting in anticipation for the train to come to call. Waiting for the story to start its freefall. The metal likes to wail beneath blackened wheels on hot, summer days. Days much like the one in which our story begins. Once upon a time - Metal chatters under the weight of an ancient, scorch-marked train. Decorated with blacked out windows. Panes of glass soot-stained, like they’d been brushed with fire one too many times. Coal smoke bursts from its chimney with a grudge, flooding the gray skies in the type of black smog that you can taste in the back of your mouth, long after the train’s disappeared. It was painted white once, a long, long time ago. A gift from the boss man down below for his flowering wife; but it’s one of those gifts you shove in the back of your drawer. One of those things that you spend your nights lying awake in bed, thinking in guilty chords. The train still runs, but the old white sides are now black and cold. Like the panting of dogs on the skin of your heels, the wind still blows hot behind it. The only thing it tows are souls to their final destination, but it won't take you if you ain't got the gold to board. It’s a fact almost everyone knows. ‘Cause the old legends say the road to hell could lead you out of poverty, but you gotta pay the toll to get that good money. The wind cracks and snaps after the train; sends the short ribbons of inky black hair whipping. Snapping into the brown-skinned face of a hungry young woman.   Blake Belladonna’s eyes glint like knives with a debt to pay, and her steps are sure footed against the rolling rocks under her boots. She wears a weathered bag slung over her shoulder, and a once-warm leather duster now worn to shit and hole-y. She seems small among the billowing willows and smoggy skies. She doesn't know where she's going or how she got to the railroad at all - but she knows how to turn her collar against the wind. And she knows how to run.   Metal shrieks, pulling her eyes up like a hand to the chin. She’s left to watch as the ruined, black omen of a train screams past a small, dilapidated station. It’s the only structure for miles. The cicadas are screaming along to the wailing of the tracks in a symphony, until the locomotive vanishes over the curve of a distant hill. The station's dry, mud-caked windows send silt drifting to cracked, rotting floorboards. The coke-bottle thick panes rattle angrily in their fragile frames, and then come to find their peace once more. Damn this is a dump, the young woman thinks, approaching the station. But it'll have to do. The sun's rays sink into her skull and turn her warm brown skin hot to the touch. It's far too hot for April. Stepping into the shade is an immediate relief, until the hot wind kicks up again. It blasts in her face as if to remind her it's there. As if she could ever forget. She's used to the way it whispers starvation in her ears. She throws the door open and escapes from the wind; stumbles her way into the empty station. Small and dusty like it’d been forgotten, filled with only two benches facing each other and a single door hiding behind them in the gloom. There's a sign on the door that reads "End o  th  line Caf ". Faintly, she can hear music behind it. Blake doesn't hesitate, and heads for the door. The knob breaks off in her hand, but it feels familiar and solid so she pockets it and heads inside. Follows the hallway and the pull of her feet to the music. The walls grow darker and thicker with polished wood. Her steps don't seem to echo and the music has since paused. The quiet starts to make her anxious. She doesn't like dark hallways. She's dreamt of them enough for a lifetime. The further she goes, the more her unease starts to grow and the more she starts to wonder if she's been here before. It's ridiculous, really. This is the farthest south she'd ever gone. Or was she in the east? Her anxious heart speeds up for a reason she can't see, and it's like her feet already know where to go. The hallway turns suddenly and she finds herself standing at the rim of an amphitheater of sorts. The music fades back in. There's a band jamming to soft jazz in the stands, people crowded and conversing at tiny tables scattered about the flat floor at the bottom. There's a man at a piano playing a diddy, there's a flicker of gold in the kitchen beyond. It's alive in a way that she hadn't seen in a long time, and she finds her feet eager to join the dancing 'round the tables below. She takes a step and nearly runs into another woman, decked out in a crisp white and red suit. She’s older, maybe late thirties or mid forties - has this eternally kind, yet melancholy smile. Her features are fair, but tired. Her black hair is pulled back like Blake’s, but tipped with red like the ends had been dipped in paint. Blake apologises immediately - "E-excuse me, sorry," and starts picking her way down to the tables. "No worries dear," She hears faintly behind her, the older woman's face already blurred from her memory. She blinks and suddenly she’s on the bottom floor, with the movers and shakers rattling cups with their stomping jive. She wants to move with them, but she's already reaching for an empty chair, like her hand was following its own storyline. The flash of gold catches her attention again. Her feet slip into a shallow groove in the floor, and she is rooted. Something crashes, and her eyes follow the clattering sharp shards of porcelain. One piece with purple trim bounces off a brown boot. She notices a hole near the big toe. Blake looks up, and her heart decides to freefall.   All the way across the floor stands a young woman in an apron. A bucket of newly broken dishes lay at her feet.   Her eyes are so pale and pretty they have their own orbit amidst the aging lights above. Her blonde hair ripples into liquid gold, twisted messily into a bun. Broad shoulders are cinched into position with suspenders and there's an off-white shirt rolled up to her elbows, the hem tucked into a pair of trousers. The skin of her strong forearms are tanned and riddled with freckles, spreading constellations all the way up her neck and across the gradual slope of her nose.   Oh, there's something familiar about all of this. Blake feels it in her bones. There’s something familiar in the ‘o’ of her startled mouth. Something about the empty hands she hovers, still holding an imaginary bucket of plates. She's got those sharp lilac eyes pinned on something in front of her.   It's a jolt to realise she's staring right at Blake. Though suddenly, that older woman in the white and red suit sweeps by that freckled face, and it's with a smile and a wave that their staring contest ends. No one claims the victory as the spell breaks. The older woman asks something that Blake can't hear, but she knows her voice is soft and sweet. Her feet move like she’s skating on air, and Blake decides to focus on that. She focuses on that instead of the heartbeat in her chest. She doesn’t think about how her pulse no longer feels like it belongs to herself. The golden woman nods stiffly and turns. Follows the gliding woman to the back of the house, and Blake is left with a heart migrating into her throat. The hungry young woman quickly tears her gaze away, uproots her feet from the grooves in the floor, and sits at the table she'd claimed. Her skin feels clammy. Her body is buzzing. She shrugs off her bag and coat, then pulls her bag into her lap. As if there was anything in there worth protecting. It could be minutes, it could be hours. She's really not sure, when a shadow falls over her table, and the sight aches like an old friend. A bottle of some fizzy drink is set gently before her, the bottle cap rattling towards her side of the table. Sunflower Pop, it reads. She looks up. The poor young woman, with her liquid gold locks wrapped in a messy topknot, stares right back. They're both struck speechless.   If there was ever a moment where destiny fills the lungs, it was then. Anticipation strings itself between their ribs, the cords like telephone wires humming their universal tune. I found you. I found you. I found you. But neither of them say a word to each other. The anticipation feels closer to a noose than a cup-and-string, the longer they spend breathing in the other's presence. The hungry young woman with hair black as night, just couldn't look away. Couldn't make her voice work right. The gold haired woman's jaw seems to work, but there was still no sound to be heard. Eventually the woman just turns around and walks away, toddling and tripping like her knees were unsteady. Blake sits where she left her, feeling much more than sympathy. She feels like her chair would collapse with her if she tried to follow. And again, there are voices whispering in the back of her mind. The wind already found her inside this place, its voices groaning and hollow. It always finds her, and she knows. She knows it always will. But as her slender fingers wrap around the neck of the bottle left on her table, Blake tastes the fizz and hums. Feels the crackle of carbonation all across her skin as she tracks the tall blonde with her eyes. The wind doesn’t feel like a whip in this vibrant, lively place. That has to count for something. Maybe she should stick around, just for one day. Maybe she would stick around and wait for the band to play.