#the shirt i had on earlier was like stabbing the back of my left shoulder

[captainchokchok]

Why are clothes that I previously found comfortable suddenly stabbing me?

[nanamiscocksleeve]

A Helping Mouth

Warnings: MDNI, lactation kink, mentions of motherhood, mild threesome, clit play A/n: Here it is you milk-loving sluts (said with a lot of love). Enjoy. Not really proofread.

You swiftly walk back to your office, rolling your shoulders and sighing. It had been a long day but in a very satisfying way. Returning to the office as a new mother had left you with some doubts and trepidation but as your mother had said as she waved you and your husband off into the car, it was good for everyone to spend some time away from the baby.

Your mother had sent a few photos throughout the day reassuring you the baby was fine and truthfully, you found that she was right. After nearly 3 months of maternity leave, it felt good to be back at work, talking to people your own age and teaching strategy. And the glorious joy of dressing up to go to work, in your neat office outfit, which your husband had been kind enough to buy a new dress shirt for. You had settled back into the rhythm, humming as you turned down the hallway.

Nothing could go wrong. You were wearing comfortable shapewear, your makeup and hair were neat, there was nothing that could go drastically wrong today. But as you took a step, you felt an odd tingling sensation in your breast, followed by a stab of pain hard enough to make you stop and put a hand up to the mound of flesh. No, it couldn’t be…you had pumped earlier in the morning.

But as you hold yourself, you feel the undeniable sensation of warm wetness, and when you remove your palm, see the unmistakable smudge of milk on the front of your brand-new dress shirt. You feel tears in your eyes, the new shirt your husband had brought now going to smell like milk like the rest of your ugly tees and sweats, the pain intensifying and being felt in your other breast now. You let out a small gasp and try to keep walking, hoping to make it to your office, to do what, you didn’t know. You didn’t have a breast pump here, no change of shirt, nothing. The first day back at the office was ruined, all your joy turning into embarrassment and slight defeat. 

“Honey, what’s wrong?” You halt as you hear your husband’s voice, unsure whether to feel relief or shy away from him. You turn to face the tall, blond, muscular sorcerer walking towards you. 

“Kento I-” You pull your hand away from your shirt and he sees the milk stains dotting your front. 

“Oh, honey.” He comes closer to pull you near him and you angle your body to prevent your milk from staining his clothes as well. 

“It hurts Kento…I’m in so much pain and…I didn’t bring a pump, or towels, or a change of clothes.” The tears spill from your eyes and your voice trembles. “I should have listened and waited a little longer to return to work.”

“Ssh. Nonsense. These things happen. I bet it happens to more mothers than you think.” He soothingly strokes your back and you try to calm down. 

“You can wear one of my shirts. Come to my office sweetie.” Kento puts a hand on your waist and starts leading you in another direction and you lean against him, praying no one sees you this way. 

“I need a bra though. These things have gotten all huge and floppy now so I can’t not wear a bra.”

 A low rumbling chuckle leaves your handsome husband’s lips. “They aren’t huge, they’re just fuller now. And I have one of your bras in my office.”

Your eyes widen, your inconvenient lactation momentarily forgotten. “Excuse me?”

“You kind of left it here by accident. Remember that time right before your delivery, you got really horny and we fucked on my desk?” Kento whispers slyly into your ear, making you blush. “It’s been in my desk drawer since then.”

“You pervert,” you manage to crack a smile. I’m shocked at this inappropriate behavior but right now, I’m willing to let it slide. Oh, thank god for the drawer bra.”

Kento leads you into his office and closes the door. As usual, you sit on his desk, the position so normal that it didn’t feel right to sit anywhere else. You wince and hold your breasts as pain stabs through them. Kento removes the buttons one by one, eyes darkening as he sees your soft flesh, the cream-colored bra also victim to your milk, leaving two round stains seeping into the cups. He licks his lips.

“Kento…” you say blushingly as you see his expression. “Stop looking at me like a starved man.”

“A starved man I am right now darling.” He lets the shirt hang off your shoulders and undoes your bra, pulling off the straps and carelessly throwing the stained garment onto his desk chair. Your lovely nipples were on full display, softly leaking little beads of creamy fluid. He languidly dips his head, making you gasp, as he draws one of the aching buds into his mouth, suckling, feeling his cock harden as the sweet fluid hits his tongue.

You moan softly, yet you’re helpless to push him away. You’d had sex in his office before, but somehow having him nurse from you felt far more intimate and taboo and you resisted, albeit very weakly. 

“Kento no…not here…” you whimper, despite feeling the wonderful release of pain along with a throb of carnal pleasure between your legs. 

“Don’t your breasts hurt?” Kento releases your nipple with a pop, milk dripping steadily from the hardened peak towards your naval. He goes to the other one, and you let out a weak cry of relief, feeling aroused yet bashful at the same time. 

“They do but…Are you enjoying this?” He lets go of your nipple, licks his lips, and looks up at you, in a trance. 

“Darling, you taste absolutely divine. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been wanting to sample you?” His tongue laves the very tip of your nipple, licking a bead of milk from it, making your brain fog up in a sexual haze. 

“R-really? This? Milk?”

A low hum leaves his mouth as his lips latch onto you to suckle again, and you can’t help but cradle his head, softly playing with the beautiful hair, and whimpering as he helps you. Your free nipple, stimulated by the action on the other leaks freely, pearlescent beads flowing onto your body which he kept rubbing off with his thumb, licking it clean in between his tender sucks. 

Your pussy is wet and you can feel the slick folds gliding against each other and you squirm slightly from the attention, feeling like you might sob from the comfort of your husband’s mouth. It was so unconventional but it was helping you and the fact that he found you so appealing even when you were dripping milk felt so powerful, your inner feminine psyche purring at the knowledge. You begin to rhythmically rock your hips, getting friction between your legs.

Noticing this, Kento smoothly slips a hand under your skirt, pushing aside your soaked panties to gently rub and roll your clit. You rest your head on his shoulder, moaning quietly, feeling the promise of a very delicious orgasm building inside your belly, heat rushing towards your core, little jitters of electricity running down your spine. Kento’s name spills from your lips, your fingers tightening on the locks of blonde strands, eyes closing in ecstasy…

“Nanami, I wanted to-” All the sensation stops suddenly as Kento’s office door opens, and Kento, lips glistening with milk, glances over your shoulder to see Satoru walk in, dumbfounded. 

Gojo’s eyes widen slightly in shock, and you’re thankful your back is facing the door, torso covered by your shirt, but it was obvious what was happening. Kento’s hands deftly hold the sides of your shirt closed, pulling you closer to him. He licks his lips clean and talks in a surprisingly calm voice to Satoru.

“Gojo. Didn’t expect to see you.”

“And I would have expected you to lock the door Nanami,” Gojo says pointedly. “What’s going on here?”

Nanami’s voice becomes professional and practical within a split second, the transition amazing you. For a man who was discovered nursing from his wife, he was surprisingly composed. 

“As you’re well aware Gojo, my wife just had a baby. We might be a top Jujutsu school, but we lack a lot of facilities needed to support women returning to the workforce as mothers. I was merely helping my wife through a difficult time. Since you are not a parent, you wouldn’t be aware of how painful it is for milk to remain for too long in the breast.” Kento looks at Satoru almost defiantly as though daring the white-haired man to challenge him. 

Instead, your heart skips a beat as you hear a soft click of the door being locked, and footsteps as Satoru moves towards both of you, coming behind Kento and leaning over his shoulder to take a look. Your clit throbs in unbearable arousal, wedged against Kento’s calloused fingertips as Satoru, eyes covered by the blindfold, appraises you, before asking Kento, “Won’t it get messy if her other breast leaks freely like that?”

He gestures towards the streaks of milk on your abdomen and Kento nods. “It does.” Then he looks at you. “Honey, do you think you want extra help?”

You turn red but at the same time, the idea is appealing, turning you on even further. Kento suckling your milk was one thing, but the thought of another man also drinking your milk simultaneously was turning you on like crazy. You look at Kento and there’s no judgment in his eyes. You nod your consent and Satoru shuffles to your other side as Kento lets go of the shirt, and takes your free nipple into his hot, moist mouth.

It was exquisite, feeling your milk flow, the soft sounds of slurping filling the office as both men drank your milk like an elixir, Kento’s fingers softly rubbing circles on your engorged nub, your gasps and moans filling the air as they suckled to their heart’s content.

Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined yourself in a situation like this but it was happening and despite knowing this began as a pain relief exercise, you were thoroughly enjoying yourself, body becoming a mess of pleasure as your nipples flowed freely into their eager mouths. 

“She’s so sweet Nanami,” Satoru murmurs before quickly placing his lips back onto your moistened bud. 

“Don’t hog all her milk Gojo. Remember she’s mine.” 

An urgent need grips your body as they talk, Nanami’s fingers bringing you close to the edge. The fact that they were fighting over you, over your milk, was another delightful turn-on, suckling almost competitively now, as though trying to see who could drink more from you.

Your cries become shamefully louder and abandoned, feeling the way your abdominal muscles clench, the way your pussy flutters in desperation until a hot wave of gratification hits your body like a shock, sending pulses of pleasure flowing through your body. Neither of them stop, gently nudging you through your orgasm until the last throb of pleasure vanishes away. 

Neither of them let go, however, and continue to drink from you. 

“Guys?” You tap their shoulders, and they look up at you, Kento’s whiskey eyes hazy, Satoru’s blue ones covered by the blindfold, both of their mouths still suckling relentlessly. “Shouldn’t we stop?”

At your question, it becomes obvious neither of them wants to let go. With a sigh, you lay back on Kento’s desk, folding your hands behind your head, letting them nurse, playing with their hair. If they wanted to waste an afternoon on your breasts, the least you could do was get comfortable. 

@actuallysaiyan @aether-seawolf

@makingtimemine @snwvie

[bahablastplz]

All in | Chapter 11

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: When you realize Felix has been injured, it's up to you to help him out. Chan gives you a proposition you can't turn down.

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

“Stabbed…” You look at him incredulous though you can tell by the blood seeping through his shirt that he isn’t lying. “What are you doing? We need to get you medical attention, come on!” You grab his hand, pulling on to him but he doesn’t budge. 

“Keep your voice down!” he shushes with mild urgency. 

“What? Why? Shouldn’t we let someone know what’s happened? We should probably tell Chan—“ 

Felix interrupts you by putting his hand over your mouth, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you further into his room. He closes the door behind him and you spend a moment staring at one another, breathing heavy, his hand still over your mouth. You clear your throat and he releases you.

“We can’t tell Chan,” he says finally. 

“Why?” you demand. 

“It’s not his problem to deal with,” he snaps. “It’s not yours, either. I’m perfectly capable of treating my own wounds.” 

“I’m sure you are,” you start, gazing anxiously at the large patch of blood seeping through his shirt. “But please let me help you.” 

“Why?” he questions, defeated. 

“You helped me when I was injured,” you explain. “The very first night I was here, when I left? Do you remember that?” 

“So you’re helping me because you think you owe me? You can just forget—“ 

“For fuck’s sake, Felix, I’m helping you because I care!” He freezes at that, blinking at you for a moment as if dumbfounded. “Stop being so stubborn. Just let me do this, please. Bathroom, now.” 

“Fine,” he sighs, finally given up. He follows you into the bathroom and you see a first aid kit already set up, as well as a rag covered in blood thrown in the sink, likely used to try to stop the bleeding. 

“Take your shirt off,” you demand as you grab a new rag. 

“If you wanted to see me shirtless you could have just asked,” he says with a cocky smile to break the tension. He makes a show of slowly lifting his shirt off by grabbing the back of his collar and lifting it over his head. You wash your hands and try not to look at him, clearly flustered despite the joke. 

“You’re not funny,” you tell him. “I need your shirt off to see your wound.”

“Mhmm,” he responds. You don’t even have to look at him to tell that he’s smiling. When you do finally turn around, you gasp. The stab wound is worse than you had thought, obviously very deep by the blood still gushing out of it. You grab a rag and kneel in front of him, pressing the fabric hard against his stomach. 

“You need to stop the bleeding, dumbass!” you exclaim. “You could have told me you were still bleeding while you were standing around making jokes.” You press the rag even harder against his stomach, watching as the material quickly soaks up the blood. Felix just shrugs his shoulders, unbothered. 

Despite his joke earlier, you do take a moment to admire his physique and washboard abs now that his shirt is off. He’s very muscular and well-built and you try not to stare but you feel your cheeks heating up at the proximity. You resist the urge to run your hands up and down his abdomen to feel how solid his muscles are–not the time nor the place. When you look up at Felix you see that he’s staring down at you fondly. 

“What?” you grumble, embarrassed to have been caught staring. 

“Nothing. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you actually care about me,” he teases with a lilt in his voice. 

“Of course I care about you, I don’t want you to die,” you scoff. “You’re going to change your mind about me caring about you in a minute. I don’t think you’re going to like me very much when I have to sterilize your wound.” 

His face pales. 

You look through the first aid kit to find gauze and you look around the bathroom and find a bottle of antiseptic soap. You take your time cleaning the wound despite Felix’s protests and hissing when the soap comes in contact with his skin–and then you bandage him up. You wash your hands of the blood that stains them and you even find Felix a new shirt from his room. You throw it at him and he takes it, saying nothing. You cross your arms and stare at him for a moment. 

“Are you going to tell me how you got stabbed?” you ask him. 

“Are you going to tell me how you know how to clean wounds so well?” he challenges. You look away and say nothing. The reality is that you’ve come to know first aid after being with Jungwon for so long but you don’t want to say that. The words are left unsaid. 

“Thank you,” Felix finally says after a beat. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“No, really,” he repeats, taking a step closer to you. You back up and the wall presses against your skin. “Thank you so much. You have no idea what it means to me.” 

He reaches out and pushes a strand of hair away from your face before cupping it between both of his hands. Your sure your face is hot from the attention and you want to look away but you just can’t–he’s a thing of beauty, blonde hair still frizzy and pressed up against his skin, freckles more visible than usual from the paleness due to blood loss–you find it unbelievable that someone can still look this good after whatever he’s been through. His eyes seem to be searching yours, as if trying to find something, and his face is slightly flushed. You’re about to make a comment about how he should probably lay down, he might catch a fever if he’s not careful, but then he’s pressing his lips against yours. 

He’s kissing you.

You immediately lean in and reciprocate. This is everything you’ve been secretly fantasizing about since you came here, after all. His first kiss is gentle, testing, and then he pulls away. You’re both in shock of what just happened but also breathing heavy, eyes lidded half-closed with desire. This time, you’re not sure who leans in first. 

When you slightly part open your mouth he takes this as permission to slip in, his tongue dancing into your mouth frantically. You’re just as eager, and you can’t help but let out a small moan when his hands find their way to your hips, kneading hard on the flesh before pulling you even closer to him, flush against his frame. Your hands come up to his fair and luscious blonde hair, weaving their way intricately into the locks before you gently pull his face away from you. 

“You’re sick,” you tell him, just above a whisper. “You’re delirious from the stab wound. You didn’t really mean to kiss me, you’ll regret it–”

He silences your anxieties with another kiss that you melt into. 

“No,” he denies. “That’s not true and you know it. I’ve wanted you since I first met you. I need you carnally, okay love? Don’t let there be an ounce of doubt in your mind that this is anything other than what it is.” His eyes are practically glowing. 

“Yeah? And what is this, Felix?” 

He says nothing but his gaze trails back down to your lips. You find that your own body is almost vibrating in desire from just a single look. 

“Tell me I’m not wrong,” he pleads. “Tell me you want me too.” 

“You’re not wrong,” you admit quietly. That’s all he needs to place a trail of kisses down your neck, suckling gently on the skin but not hard enough to leave a mark. You let out a breathy open-mouth groan and tilt your head back as his mouth trails to your collarbone and he pushes you impossibly closer to him. You can feel his bulge press up against you and you’re about to say something, beg for him, but you don’t have to. He places his thigh right between your legs. 

You let out a small gasp at his action and you meet his gaze, just for a moment to admire his lust-ridden expression. You take advantage of the situation he’s presented you with, allowing yourself to indulge in the delicious friction he’s created by grinding on his leg. Your hands trail down lower to palm him through his sweats, getting an equally expressive reaction. You feel his hands at the hem of your shirt, asking you for permission to lift it up and you’re eager to agree, but you don’t get a chance to take it off before you’re interrupted. 

There’s a knock on the door. 

He pulls away from you inhumanly fast, as if electrocuted by your touch. You’re sure your heart is beating just as fast, the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you look in the mirror and make an attempt to fix your appearance. 

When he opens the door, Hyunjin stands on the other end. 

“Y/N,” he says. You furrow your brows–you weren’t expecting Hyunjin to be looking for you. 

“Yes?” you respond with a tight-lipped smile. You feel as though you have just been caught doing something you shouldn’t, and the way Felix stands awkwardly with his arms crossed across his bare chest tells you that he feels the same. If Hyunjin notices the strange dynamic, he doesn’t point it out. 

“Chan has been looking for you. He would like to speak with you,” he tells you. Your heart sinks and you shoot Felix a glance, one that asks in desperation for him to save you from whatever Hell awaits. 

“I’ll be right there,” you address Hyunjin with a nod though you don’t look at his eyes. He shuts the door behind him and you're left alone with Felix once again. 

You let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“I’ve been summoned,” you say with a smile, trying to crack the tension in the air with a joke that falls flat. You sigh when he doesn’t respond and you make to leave his room when his hand reaches out, enclosing yours in his grip. 

Your breath catches in your throat as you watch his hand, his thumb rubbing soft circles on the skin of your own. “This isn’t over,” he hums. He lets your hand fall from his grip and it dangles idly at your side but you can still feel the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. 

“It isn’t,” you decide, and before you can stop yourself you’re lurching forward and pressing your lips to his again in a short but heated kiss. He lets out a shaky breath and you breathe it in like it’s the oxygen you need to live. You leave his room, leaving Felix wide-eyed and speechless. 

When you find Chan, he’s in his office. You can tell because you can hear muffled speech behind the closed door. It sounds like he’s on the phone, and you don’t even have to press your ear up to the wood to overhear his words, loud and agitated. “Gonna kill him,” you hear, and your heart thumps erratically in your chest. “Fucker is lucky he got away with a missing finger and he has the gall to go to Enha’s base and betray us? If you or any of the guys find him, don’t kill him. I’m gonna need him alive for the things I want to do to that son of a bitch… gonna tear him limb from limb and–” 

You knock on the door promptly, cutting him off. Your cheeks are heated up and you pretend like you haven’t heard a single word. Chan ends the call with whoever he was speaking to and comes  to answer the door himself, cracking the door open and peeking his head out. 

“Yes?” he asks, clearly irritated. 

“Hyunjin said you wanted to speak with me,” you say, unreasonably anxious. 

“Right,” he muses. He cracks open the door just enough to slip through, obscuring your view from whatever is inside his office. You’re not sure you want to know. 

He crosses his arms and looks you up and down–you feel very small under his gaze and you find yourself wishing you could shrink and hide yourself even more. 

“You’re going to go on a date with me,” he tells you. 

You blink. Once. Twice. 

“Excuse me?” you say, because you’re sure you’ve misheard him. 

“A date,” he repeats. “Dinner. Just the two of us.” 

“Okay, so I did hear you,” you blank. “Just… why? And you know, usually you’re supposed to ask someone out on a date, not demand.” 

“I have feelings for you,” he admits, though there’s no intonation in his voice to indicate he’s speaking of anything other than the weather or what he’s eaten for breakfast. You remember Woojin’s suggestion that Chan was in love with you and you shudder–even if he was right, you weren’t expecting him to confess his feelings point blank. “And I would like for you to go on a date with me and give me a chance,” he adds.

“Chan, just… what if I don’t feel the same?” you ask, trying to approach the conversation delicately. 

“You’re going to give it a chance,” he tells you, voicing his finality. 

“What makes you think–” 

“If you go on a date with me, I’ll take you to see your sister.” 

And just like that, Chan proves that any decision he makes will be certain, instantly swaying you with one sentence. This is the power he has over people, you remind yourself. But even so you find it hard to say no when this is the only thing you’ve wanted since the day you arrived. 

“That’s not fair,” you say, voice deflated. 

“So?” 

“Of course, I’ll do it,” you huff. “You knew I wouldn’t say no. Couldn’t say no,” you correct. “Are you expecting me to fall in love with you over the course of one date?” 

“Of course not,” he laughs. “That would be silly. Tomorrow evening, wear something nice.”

“I don’t have anything nice,” you point out. 

“You’ll figure it out,” he smiles. 

And he leaves you like that, outside of his office as he closes the door shut behind him. You’re left to guffaw at the door and you find yourself wanting to punch something, to scream into a pillow, maybe. But it’s late and your body is tired from the overexertion and emotional-whiplash of the day. Your body slumps heavily into your bed and you lay face-down in the cool, expensive covers, not bothering to shower the grime off. You fall asleep probably faster than you have in weeks. 

You dream of your sister. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──  

When you arrive in the kitchen for breakfast, you see that it is full of life. Lee Know is making what smells like waffles and Jisung is by his side, definitely burning some breakfast sausage. It’s endearing. Jeongin sets the table and Felix pours drinks. You turn to Chan to speak but watch as he sits at the head of the table, crossing his arms. 

“Y/N,” Seungmin calls. “Can you bring this to the table?” You help set up with the boys for breakfast, noticing that Chan is the only one that doesn’t seem to be doing anything, just watching. Anxiety bubbles in your gut, a sense of dread looming over you as you think about what is to come for tonight. 

You’re noticeably quiet during breakfast. Jisung asks if you’re alright. You tell him you are but it’s a lie. You’re sure he can tell but he doesn’t call you out for it. 

After breakfast you visit Hyunjin in his room, knocking on his door delicately. The smell of paint permeates the air and his hair is disheveled, as if he weren’t expecting a visit from you. He invites you in, nonetheless. The room hasn’t changed much from the first time that you saw it, but you notice he’s painting. A large canvas sits on a tarp in the center of the room, no longer covered up. 

The painting is beautiful, intricate although unfinished. It depicts a little boy in a garden, sitting and smelling pink peonies. The boy looks sad, clearly out of place in the bright garden. Even his clothes are dark and drastic compared to the rest of the setting. He’s holding a book. 

You think you have been looking at the painting for a tick too long. Hyunjin clears his throat and you snap your head to look at him, clearly embarrassed to be caught staring. 

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him. 

“It’s nothing,” he replies, brushing off your words.  

“How long have you been painting?” 

“It’s a more recent hobby,” he says. “I never… had the time. What can I do for you today?” He says, changing the subject. 

“Well, I do need a new book,” you smile. “But also… I need new clothes.” 

He blinks at you. “That’s not really my area of expertise,” he says. “What do you need clothes for? You should have plenty.” 

“The Bang Christopher Chan had the courtesy of inviting me on a date tonight,” you explain. 

“And you said yes?” he questions, not looking at you. You’re taken aback by the question; you’re curious if he’s picturing you in Felix’s room last night, clearly disheveled and engaging in questionable acts. 

“He told me that if I go on a date with him, he’d let me see my sister.” 

“Ahhh,” he says, as if that explains things. 

“Right. So… clothes?” 

The only form of acknowledgement you get that he’s heard you at first is the nod of his head. Then walks toward his bookshelf, searching for something. It doesn’t take him long. The book is on the smaller side but you notice it’s fully annotated. You turn it over in your hands. 

“The Stranger…?” you read outloud. 

“Yes, Camus. He was a French author, very brilliant. Many would have called him an existentialist, though he hated that term.” 

“Why do you think that is?” you ask, humoring him. He thinks for a second. 

“Existentialists believe that you create your own meaning. Camus believed that there was no meaning to existence.” 

“Which do you believe?” 

He smiles at you. “Maybe I’m still trying to figure that out.” 

And with that, he leads you out of his room. He walks you down the hall, hand placed on the small of your back to guide you. For a moment, you think about your first few days in the house. Hyunjin thoroughly pissed you off; you hated all of the assumptions he made about you, but even more so you hated that he was right. Now, Hyunjin is someone dependable. Funny how things can change in the blink of an eye. 

He’s knocking on a door you haven’t seen before and you hesitate for a second, wanting to ask him about his intentions. He must notice you open your mouth to speak and he brings his finger to his own lips, a motion meant to show you to be quiet. You do. 

A disheveled Jeongin opens the door. You wonder if he’s just woken up from a nap. “Yes?” 

“Go on,” Hyunjin says for only you to hear. “Tell him.” That catches you off guard, and for a second you wonder what you’re even supposed to be telling him. 

“Uhh… oh. Um, I need nice clothes. I don’t have any.” Jeongin’s eyes immediately light up and you realize the reason why Hyunjin has brought you here. He was simply redirecting you to someone that could help. 

“I have to go take care of some business, but you take care, Y/N,” Hyunjin says, patting you on the back. “Have fun on your date, if even possible. Kind regards to your sister.” He says the last piece for only you to hear, for which you are grateful. You’re not sure if you want to explain to Jeongin that you’re going on a date with Chan, and even more so why you’re not entirely looking forward to it. 

Hyunjin walks down the hall and Jeongin disappears into his room for a moment. You peek in the door, trying to catch a glimpse to see if anything will reveal more to you about him. You notice it’s clean and smells fresh, a little florally, as if he’s just lit a candle. He reappears a moment later, keys in hand and sunglasses on his face. 

“Let’s go,” he says. You’re caught off guard. 

“Go…?” 

“We’re going out,” he says, as if it has been made obvious. “We’re going shopping?” 

“Oh! Right. Can I… Am I allowed to do that?” 

“Sure,” he replies. “I’ll bring Minho and Jisungie. Maybe Felix will want to join too…?” 

“No,” you say too quickly. He looks at you, confused. “Um… I just would prefer it if he didn’t come.” You don’t mention that you’re embarrassed to be caught by him going on a date with Chan, especially considering the feelings and chemistry you and Felix have been dancing around. 

“Ah, alright!” he says. You’re glad he’s dropped the topic so quickly. “Is it okay if Minho and Jisung…?” 

“Yeah, yeah!” you interrupt. “Of course.” 

You’re kind of excited to leave the house again, though you feel a rush of nervousness flood through your body for a moment. The last time you left the house, you went to the gala. Yang Jungwon died in front of your eyes and Lee Heeseung apparently declared that you were next on his list, causing you to hide out in a motel. Is it really safe to go out this casually? 

You shake your head as if that will do anything to make the thoughts go away. A date with Chan might not be the most appealing thing in the world. A shopping trip, however, is a well needed distraction. 

And it goes farely well. You’re grateful for Jeongin who knows just which stores to go into and exactly which outfits you should be trying on. You try not to think about the prices of things, knowing that while you could never afford them for yourself these men are very well-off. They could certainly afford to buy you clothes and entire stores, if you requested. And while you probably only need one dress for the occasion, you don’t complain when you leave the store with numerous bags full of clothing items. 

Jisung is quite good at hyping you up, making you feel like every outfit looks perfect on you. You’re grateful for his bountiful energy and grins. He’s funny and he feels a lot like a friend which is a quality you appreciate in him. The way his face is always so expressive of what he’s thinking puts you at ease, knowing he never has an alternative motive. He’s just as receptive of what you’re feeling, you realize, constantly checking up on you to make sure you’re doing okay. He probably can tell you’re anxious to be out of the house again. His presence makes you feel calm. 

“Wait one second, I’ll be right back,” Jeongin says, running into a store. Something must have caught his eye. Jisung is looking down at his phone, completely distracted for a moment. You notice your heart is beating faster and faster, not realizing that your thoughts are racing. 

You remember being at the gala, excusing yourself from Changbin for a moment to go to the bathroom. You were just gone for a second. A second is all it took for Jungwon to take you from them. What if they’re not paying attention and someone comes and takes you again? What if Heeseung knows where you are, and he comes and grabs you and takes you away? He wouldn’t be as kind as Jungwon, you think. You wonder if he would kill you on the spot. 

“Y/N.” It’s Minho’s voice that breaks you out of your trance. You must be looking at him with wild eyes. His expression doesn’t give anything away but you can tell that he’s concerned. “What are you thinking?” 

“Do you ever get nervous?” you ask him, suddenly. The question catches him by surprise. He blinks at you, waiting for you to elaborate. “You were there,” you explain, “at the warehouse with me. Don’t you think about it? Think about how easy it would be to get held captive again? I mean, for fuck’s sake I’m still being held captive right now, but it’s all I can think about, Minho. What if he comes for me? What if–” 

“Y/N.” He says your name again and it’s steady. You’re silent for a moment, trying to catch your breath. “Breathe. It’s okay. We won’t let anything happen to you, you know that, right?” You nod your head. 

Once your breathing finally calms down, he gives you a light smile. You notice the way his teeth peek through his lips giving him an appearance not unlike that of a bunny. It’s endearing. 

When Jeongin appears again from the store, he’s holding a small box. You want to question him about its contents but you decide against it. He walks in front of you with Jisung, making conversation that you can’t quite catch. 

“I do, by the way,” Minho says. He matches your pace so that he can walk next to you, staying in your proximity so that you don’t get left behind by the others. “Get nervous, I mean. It’s normal.” He doesn’t elaborate and you don’t ask him to. What he’s said is enough. 

You notice Jisung’s wide eyes staring at you from where he walks with Jeongin. He has his own ways of checking up on you, and you appreciate it more than he’ll ever know. 

The afternoon goes by like any other. You take a hot shower to soothe your aching muscles and it helps you to clear your thoughts. You read a little bit of the book that Hyunjin loaned you. It’s a little dense but it’s definitely interesting. You like reading his annotations; they give you a glimpse of what his thought process looks like. His handwriting is neat and you do your best not to smudge the ink from the pen with your fingers as you thumb through the pages. You procrastinate getting ready for as long as you can–the sun has started to go down by the time you apply some light makeup and do your hair. 

Chan looks handsome, infuriatingly so considering how angry you are with him. But he has promised you that you will see your sister, so you can’t help but feel giddy for what is to come. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

taglist: @shuporanporang ; @purp13st4r ; @eurydiceofterabithia ; @heartsbyandra ; @thicccurls ;

@rylea08 ; @the-sweetest-rose ; @oddracha ; @kapelover ; @goldenmellow ;

@zerefdragn33l ; @uhh-awkward-rightt ; @astudyoftimeywimeystuff ; @kaleigh-2002 ; @thatonexcgirl ;

@mindfreecreator ; @linoalwaysknows ; @velvetmoonlght ; @minahaeyo ; @crystalchuuu ;

@hash2013 ; @skzswife ; @b0bbl3s ; @thecutiepieme ; @bear8585 ;

@moss-the-man ; @softkisshyunjin ; @sylveonitesworld ; @m00njinnie ; @nicoleparadas ;

@starsofasteria ; @klopez01 ; @luvlinos ; @hyunjinnnnnnnnnnnnnn ; @skz-akira ;

@boi-bi-ahaha ; @l33bang24 ; @hermione640 ; @gal82 ; @b-chansbbygirl ;

@kayleefriedchicken ; @notsojourni ; @hogwartslife64 ; @stilltrynafuckingtumble ; @ellelabelle ;

@melleus ; @hyun-bun ; @luminouskalopsia ; @leftovercigarettes ; @sabrina-gal-kpop

@ghostedgameplays ; @wealwayskeepfighting ; @meloncremesoda ; @Lovelino23 ; @honeyybbuubblleess ;

@blossominghunnie ; @sunlitangel777 ; @kkamismom12 ; @slaykanejvetsi ; @eastleighsblog ;

@skzskzskzskzskzskzskzzzz ; @k-keya ; @moonlight-sunrise-channie ; @estella-novella ;

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@jchotch726 ; @cookielixie ; @xxeiraxx ; @chuuyaobsessed ; @anime-addictot8 ;

@raspberrii ; @holdontoitwhileitlasts ;

a/n: the little bit of spice in this chapter wasn't as spicy so I went back and added a little more before I posted it haha you're welcome... hope we're excited for next week ;)

[mischiefmaker615]

Go Away

Summary: Enemies to Lovers 

Rating: R 

Requested By: Daddy_Dracos_Slut (wattpad)

Note: Sorry for the long wait, real life stuff can be a pain sometimes but i hope the length of this one makes up for it *sweats*

i curse under my breath as the elevator seems extra rough going up the floors today. my hand clutches the rail while i keep my eyes closed, focusing my energy on my breathing rather than my stab wound that left a pretty nasty gash on my side. What happened?

SHIELD loves to throw me into fights they know they don’t have enough man power for. Why? “Your training should be enough to help you handle it just fine” okay dip shit- not against HYDRA! The mission was successful but of course they had to throw in a rookie for me to bring along as well. Result? Saving their ass cost me the next couple of days to heal.

“you should go to the medical bay-‘’

‘’it’s fine, I’ll just have Loki heal it.’’ the biggest lie I’ve ever told.

There was no way in hell i wanted to get near the psycho that attacked New York, but i hid my resentment well for SHIELD to buy my answer and not force me into a pointlessly long medical appointment.

Ironically as soon as i arrived back at the tower, the ‘not so bad’ wound in my side decided to give me a lot more pain than what i was originally feeling earlier. i probably just needed to clean it and it would be good as new.

Finally the elevator granted me the mercy of reaching my floor and i got out, my body crouched and hunched as i took a deep breath and looked around. No one around.. good. i didn’t like to show weakness, even though in this business you all get hurt, its nothing new, but my stubborn ass still tried to tough it out. Which is why as soon as i heard someone coming, i sucked in a breath and straightened up to my height, making sure my jacket was hiding my blood-stained shirt while Loki turned the corner, and we both shared the same expression. Of course, he probably didn’t enjoy my company just as much as i did for him, but he still took the opportunity to tease me whenever he could to get a reaction.

‘’why are you walking like that?’’ he asked, just a question, no concern in his voice.

‘’why do you look like that.’’ i say as i took a scrolling pace down the halls while he pressed the button to the elevator. i didn’t even look back at him but i felt his eyes on me.

‘’you’re hurt.’’

‘’and you care?’’

Loki’s eyes narrowed as i cast a glance over my shoulder at him in annoyance. ‘’I wish to make sure you are in proper health so you can get out of my way in a sufficient pace.’’

‘’oh, you do care.’’ i say in a sweet voice, placing a dramatic hand on my heart for effect which only revealed my bloody shirt where his eyes flicked down. i could have sworn his gaze changed to something else.. but for a split second until he looked like an asshole again.

‘’you’re bleeding.’’

Now, a sarcastic comment would have just proven he was right. Not that he would tell anyone, he probably didn’t care. this was all just probably going to be used to call me a weak mortal or whatever who doesn’t know how to properly fight. So the only unfortunate answer that spilled out of my mouth was ‘’spilled ketchup.’’ Smooth.

His eyes slowly traveled down to the ‘ketchup stain’ again before they flicked back up to mine. ‘’hmm.’’ He hummed, turning back to the open doors now for the elevator before his gaze could get a chance to make me nervous- wait what?

I make sure I walk as casually as possible, regardless of how painful it may be until I heard the elevator doors close before I hunch over again and draw in a sharp breath and resist the urge to clutch my side. Judgy bastard.. looking at me as if I’m scum in his way.. but what was that split second look? Never mind- just need to get the first aid kit and see exactly what I’m dealing with.

After it seems forever until I get into my room, I shut the door behind me and throw my jacket to the side, glad to have it off before I fold the end of my shirt up so it was over my chest, almost like a make-shift crop top. Damn.. it’s pretty deep, going to need minor stitches.. clean it up..

I slowly make my way now to the bathroom, my balance thrown off with the lack of blood and I could already tell before my eyes hit the mirror how pale I am. Nausea comes in mild waves as well but anger and frustration takes over when I open up the cabinet to find my first aid kit was missing. What the hell! I used it a couple days ago and I’m to OCD to not put things back..

I run a hand through my hair as I think about what I need to do. We have vodka at Tony’s bar downstairs, it’s the best thing we have currently to clean a wound. Another first aid kit in the kitchen, not to far from the bar cabinet. Not to bad- if people weren’t awake. I check my phone, it’s 8pm. Its usually quiet and people head to bed in 30 minutes do to the fact that we need proper rest in this field.

Grabbing a small towel, I run it over warm water and nearly cry out as I begin cleaning what I could, pain shooting through my body as I push through until I feel like I would faint. Setting the towel aside, I carefully.. carefully manage to change my shirt but put on an actual crop top so nothing had its change at touching my new body scar soon-to-be. Only 10 minutes pass.. 20 might be to long as I stay on the bed trying to control my breathing. I’m stupid, I know..

Once I check the time and hear more doors close in the hall, indicating people are hitting the hay, I go over to the door. No point in hiding the wound if everyone is in bed and the less clothes I ruin the better. However I nearly woke the whole house if I didn’t shove a hand over my mouth to find Loki waiting outside my door, leaning on the wall with a now smirk by my reaction.

‘’the hell are you doing here like a creeper?’’ I hiss at him but realize hiding the wound was to late as his eyes dropped and so did his expression as he straightened.

‘’norns Y/N- how did you manage that?’’ somehow there was no emotional indication in his voice, let alone his expression so I shrugged to see if he was actually concerned or about to laugh.

Figured there was no use hiding as I walk around him with a hand on the wall to support myself. ‘’comes with the job sometimes.’’

‘’and I’m sure they taught you how to properly take care of it- which is why it’s strange that you find yourself here’’ he says and walked along side me, making me raise a brow in wonder at why he was following.

‘’I can take care of myself, thanks.’’ Sarcasm was potent as I side eyed him, indicating I wished to be left alone before my body jolted at a wave of pain, making me practically double over with my nails digging into the wall.

‘’you need a doctor-‘’ Loki started, his hands quickly returning to their sides as I took a sharp breath and looked at him.

‘’I said I’ll be-‘’

‘’Y/N!’’ Barton greeted as he turned the corner, his smile fading as he glanced at Loki before he smiled again at me. ‘’you should have been here hours ago- I thought he would have healed you by now-‘’

‘’I don’t know what you are talking about-‘’ I panic, giving him a sharp look to shut up while Loki raised a brow.

‘’earlier when you said you’d just ask Loki to-‘’

‘’I’m handling it Clint, I’ll see you tomorrow though good as new’’ I fake smile, looking like I’m about to punch him as I feel Loki’s eyes on me in amusement.

‘’don’t you worry Agent Barton, she’s in good hands.’’ He said gently, lacing his fingers behind his back as Barton gives him a hard look.

‘’I’ll see you tomorrow then Y/N’’ he says, never really registering Loki whenever they did have to speak and brushed past him on his way to his own room. Most of the time that type of rude contact would have earned an almost-fight between Loki and Clint, but I suppose Loki found himself to busy smirking at me to really be concerned about it.

‘’so what is it exactly you wished to ask me Y/N?’’ Loki said sweetly, milking the opportunity to tease me as I roll my eyes and make my way down the halls towards the elevator before I could be any more embarrassed.

‘’go away.’’

Loki’s eyes narrowed as he watched me walk away from him but I busied myself with waiting for the damn doors to open. I heard nothing behind me, and I made the mistake to believe he had actually listened so to my annoyance, he slipped into the elevator with me before the doors could close.

‘’you were going to ask me to heal you?’’ he asked, no emotion indicated in his voice as I made myself busy by pressing the correct floor.

‘’I merely said that to have everyone off my back, apparently it seems to be doing quite the opposite.’’ I mutter and lean myself against the wall, drawing my eyes closed as I focused on my breathing.

Even with my eyes closed, I could tell Loki was staring at me. He’s annoying, but I’m sure he wouldn’t be half bad of a person if it wasn’t for the fact that he attacked new York. That’s probably where our enemy relationship stems from.. could I be nicer? Sure, he just.. draws something out of me.. he’s not a bad looking guy either, my emotions run different when I’m around him compared to the others. Tony teased me once and called it denial of something perhaps more I was feeling towards him, but there was no way I would have fallen for someone that attacked-

‘’if you would just let me heal you then perhaps your mind will stop being so loud.’’

My eyes snap open as Loki rubbed his temple as if he had a headache. If it wasn’t for the damn gash in my side, I probably would have killed him right then and there as I gawked at him.

‘’the fuck were you-‘’

‘’Y/N,’’ he starts, sincerity in his eyes and voice that somehow made me still. ‘’yes I’ve done those things in the past, I should hope that the time I have been spending here has given me a good chance to have changed and perhaps provided a door for a fresh start..’’ he starts, his eyes darting to the floor and slowly back at me as my muscles tensed by another wave and I hold my side, staying silent still. ‘’I do not blame you for your negative emotions towards me, and I am not asking for a second chance,.. all I’m asking is to just heal you.’’

My eyes slowly travel up to his after they had descended to the floor. God of lies, it was taught to tell if he was being honest or not. Though honestly, what did you have to lose? Nausea was already hitting your gut and light headedness was already reminding me how much blood I was losing. Yet the fact of the matter is,..

‘’..why do you care?’’

Loki almost genuinely smiled and I noticed his muscles were straining. Raising a brow, I noticed the elevator had not once moved since the doors had been closed. My eyes were next to narrow at him.

‘’what are you-‘’

‘’ask me Y/N.’’

I blink at him, knowing exactly what he wants me to ask but even now he’s being a stubborn ass??

He gave me a look at the name and I immediately just decided to focus on the pain instead to block him out. He was just as stubborn as I was, there was no point in asking him about the elevator, let alone avoiding the question. Taking a deep breath, I clutched my side and looked at him with all the dignity I was clinging on too.

‘’fine.. w-would you-‘’

My words cut short when my vision blacked out and all I remember is falling to the ground.

~

A cold hand pressed to my forehead, the temperature feeling cool where I practically lean into the touch before opening my eyes.

And then I want to die.

My cheeks heat up as Loki sat by my side as I lay in the bed located in our medical bay- aka Tony’s sometimes hangover room.

‘’how are you feeling?’’ he asked, looking a bit drained himself as I took in the scene.

I felt no pain.. something in my chest stirred, something that was hard to identify as I glanced down at myself. The gash in my side was completely gone- not so much as a scar behind! I look up at Loki wide eyed and he merely gave me a gentle look as I tried to speak but shut my mouth quick as redness heated in my cheeks.

How could I thank him? .. I never shared a kind word to him before, we had a sharp relationship.. and yet he still went out of his way to do this..

‘’Loki I- .. I.. I don’t know what to say..’’ I say pathetically as he chuckled.

‘’glad you are looking like your regular self again love.’’

Love.. that nickname.. why did it make me feel.. something? I glance at the clock, seeing how a couple hours have passed since I most likely had passed out. Leaving plenty of time to make sure it wasn’t a trick, a spell, or some type of cruel joke.. he really did help me..

‘’norns Y/N, I’m not that cruel to just leave you to bleed or taking your injured state into advantage for mischief’’ he sighed and leaned himself against the side rails of my bed, his body still sat close enough where I found feel him pressed against my side and I give him a tired, irritated look.

‘’before I thank you, I would request you stop reading my mind from now, call it an exchange for some future moments where I will take it easy on you.’’ I lightly joke, leaning back in the sat up bed as I hear him laugh.

‘’an exchange then? Alright, I will leave your thoughts be for some decent time from your kind heart,’’ he said with a tease. ‘’but is it hardly a fair exchange when our moments have been clearly even?’’

I sigh, knowing regardless of it all, he’ll always he so stubborn. ‘’and what is it that you want?’’

‘’a proper thank you.’’ he said calmly with a smile, it widening as I raise my brows.

I was half expecting a sarcastic, clever comment, but all he wanted was a true thank you? easy. ..or was it.. he clearly saved me from bleeding out to death, I’m pretty sure a ‘thanks’ wouldn’t be good enough as my fingers played with the fabric of my blanket mindlessly. ‘’..in what way?’’

‘’that is for you to figure out love.’’ He said gently, the mischief fading from his eyes as he seemed to stare at me like an honest man.

What? Buy him lunch as a thank you? a hug? A good word to Fury to help his probation at the tower? From his eyes, it seemed like he was just expecting words of affirmation, a from the heart type of thank you. yet why didn’t that feel like enough? My mind raced, everything seeming to be shouting things all at once as I tried to calm my emotions. What was this feeling? My mind paused as I felt him move and my eyes looked up to see him beginning to stand.

‘’it’s alright darling, you are tired and its been quite a long da-‘’

He stared at me with the same shocked expression as I had on my face as my hand grasped his before I even realized what he happening. He was still, his hand making no move to grasp back but remained still as I held on. My heart was pounding, and before I knew it, my arm was pulling him back and down.

His expression was now unreadable, as was mine I hope.. but something felt right about it- and I prayed I wasn’t reading the room wrong because despite his unreadable expression and closed off personality.. there was always something off between us, off where there was almost a secret enjoyment to our fights and banter.

So I took a gamble and pulled my hand towards me and his boots could be heard slowly moving towards me, allowing his hand to be guided before he came closer to my side on the bed. Our gazes never left each other, almost daring each other to look away but neither of us did.. not even as I pulled his hand a bit down to where he now slowly bent his height down and I lean forward. All movements were careful, my hand slowly releasing his as he moved it beside my arm and moved his other hand to do the same on the other side- caging me in.

As he leaned down, our eyes fell slightly closed, expressions relaxed as we seemed to melt in the moment. my lips slightly parted, our soft breaths could be heard as he leaned down and my hands moved to his shoulders to take over and guided him down finally so I could kiss him.

My lips brushed against his gentle, finding them soft and welcoming. He let me set the pace, my arms bringing him closer so I was able to deepen the kiss in which he eagerly returned with restrained gentleness. He gently moaned against my lips, as did I as we seemed to fit perfectly like a glove. My mind went still- relaxed, as if nothing mattered anymore, all quarrel forgotten and memories faded.

With my eyes closed, I felt his knee gently rest beside my thigh, followed by the other one as I felt his presence hover above my now. There was a strange temperature to him, not frost bite necessarily but a lack of human warmth. Well.. he’s not human anyway. His kiss became more needy as he ran his slender fingers through my hair and I couldn’t help but tangle mine in his. His locks are silky, not at all oily like one would think at the mere look of them. I hear a low growl as I tighten my grip on them, the mere vibration sending a wave of arousal through my body as I feel the need to close my legs.

‘’L-Loki.. I need.. we need..’’ I pant, staring up at him as he gazes back down at me, his pupils dilated with arousal himself as I feel his bulge just barely pressed up against me. If I were to raise my hips right now, I’m sure it would be like touching a boulder.

‘’I know darling, I know’’ he whispered, his thumb stroking my cheek as he lowered himself ever so slightly so our bodies were almost close to touching. ‘’are you sure you want this?..’’

My mind was in complete submission, my sharp tongue completely dulled to how I see him now. I wanted him.. this had all been denial.. but now I’m sure. I want him. my eyes gently looked up into his and my head nodded.

‘’use your words darling..’’ he held back a smirk but I knew it was there. Even now his personality didn’t change much, he probably enjoyed seeing me submit as my cheeks reddened as I look up at him.

‘’I want you’’ I whisper, eagerness being held back as my body began shaking in anticipation. That earned a small brush of his body lowering to feel mine, my hips rising for more of him but he raised up again.

‘’not yet darling, I don’t think you’re ready for me.’’ He sighed, almost as if saying ‘oh well’ and I look up at him in shock.

‘’no I’m ready-‘’

‘’you need a good amount of prepping first love, if you don’t want to be torn apart’’ that last part he whispered against my ear, I could feel his breath brush against my skin where it sent chills over my body.

‘’what are you-‘’

My words cut off when his hand gently began kneading my breast over my clothes, the action catching me off guard where a gasp left my lips and he took that opportunity to insert his tongue.

He was a skilled lover, one would assume so just by the mere sight of him but the thought was always shook off when I didn’t want to accept my true feelings.. any type of relationship causes me to panic, the mere doubt or thought of me messing up always just made me want to push all of it away.. but I suppose hate is what grew this connect. A sick, sad way of bonding but it got us here, it only took me getting stabbed for me to stop denying myself.

He was reading my mind again, the feeling of like a poke in my brain as he pulled up my shirt to place his mouth over my breast to ease my thoughts away. I think to much, and this was a damn good distraction as he moaned against me, my back arching as gasps left my lips. His other hand gave my other breast attention, pinching and kneading before his hand and mouth switched to give equal attention.

‘’you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you Y/N..’’ he murmured against me, his lips navigating up my chest to suck just above my collarbone that was a promise to leave a mark.

‘’i.. I thought you hated me..’’ I struggled out as my hands gripped his shoulders, a tingling under my fingertips as I glanced down to see the remaining shimmer before noticing his armor was off, leaving him just in his leather and cloth.

‘’I went along with your denied feelings but I sensed the truth way before I decided to enter that naughty little mind of yours’’ he smirked, his eyes flicking up to my own as his finger tips played with the button of my jeans.

My cheeks heated up as my nails practically dug into his shoulders out of shyness, almost as if I was curling up if I didn’t feel his knee between my legs to prevent them from closing. ‘’how long have you been doing that?’’ I whisper, shuddering as he began rubbing his knee gently against my sex, even with the blanket still between us.

‘’whenever I felt like it. primarily when you walk away after using your sharp tongue and yet your thoughts betrayed you, thinking the complete opposite of me. I was able to glance into your true feelings just enough before you pushed them down.. but I think we both know the truth’’ he whispered, his lips caressing my neck now while his hand gently moved my hair away to give him more access while his other unzipped my zipper.

‘’it was only a matter of time but I couldn’t wait forever.. I was going to perhaps wait longer on telling you how I truly felt about you but after you got injured..’’ his movements paused at the memory, raising his head slowly to meet my widened eyes. ‘’I thought I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to tell you if I lost you..’’

Of gods.. norns I think I love him..

A small smile spread across his lips as I look away from him. ‘’stop that..’’

‘’as you wish darling, I’m sure things are clear now nevertheless’’ he chuckled, attacking my neck again while my head was turned, earning a squeak to leave my lips when I felt him begin to nip and his fingers slowly dipped passed my panties.

My lips part as my eyes flutter close, making no moves to stop him as his finger tips ghost over my sex ever so slightly to take my breath away. I feel his tongue against my neck and his teeth now and again before his lips begin to suck and mark. Just before I could even think to rise my hips to find more friction, his finger tips begin playing with my clit, causing me to shudder and the knot of pleasure to begin forming within me.

‘’so sensitive.. so responsive.. how long has it been since one has touched you properly..’’ he whispered, not asking a question and I probably wouldn’t have been able to answer it anyway.

He began rubbing circles, a slow pace that began picking up when I began rising my hips, practically trying to shamelessly hump his hand if his other didn’t grip my hip to hold me down. a silent gasp left my mouth as I raised my head back and my back began to arch. His thumb took over on my clit so his two fingers could tease my entrance, dipping ever so slightly in and pulling out when my hips strained to rise.

‘’patience darling, be a good girl and take what I give you’’ he practically growled against my ear before he began to nibble on my lobe.

Goosebumps rose on my arms and I began to squirm until he slowly inserted his two fingers, causing me to moan his name slowly and shamelessly. I didn’t even care where we were or who could walk in but I was sure somehow Loki would have used magic to somehow provide us with a bit of privacy. I could feel his rock-hard bulge against the inside of my thigh, rubbing himself against it to match his rhythm while his fingers thrust into me In a faster pace.

‘’gods Loki…’’ I moan, feeling my orgasm get closer and closer and my eyebrows furrowed with my eyes fluttering closed. I was so close..

‘’cum for me darling.. ‘’ he whispered, his pace quickening on my clit as he pushed his fingers into me to the knuckles, causing me to tip over the edge as I reached my orgasm.

‘’LOKI!!’’ I practically scream as I moan and hold onto him, my body fluttering and clenching down on his fingers in a vise grip that has him practically moaning while he presses his lips to mine once more.

His movements slowed down ever so slightly, helping me ride it out as I was a panting mess, my body shaking and my eyes drunk like before he slowly pulls his hand out of my pants, his mouth licking my essence with no shame and a smirk where my cheeks heat up again.

‘’shy not darling, you taste absolutely wonderful.’’ He purred and adjusts himself as he backs away down my body while a hand slowly removed the blanket.

I slowly sit up as I catch my breath, just seeing the mischief in his eyes as his hands grip my pant legs and I give him a smile.

‘’in fact, I think I should help myself to a proper taste..’’

[kestisvrse]

proximity, part 9

luke castellan x apollo!fem!reader smau & irl

🩹

series | prev | next

specific cw: blood, injury detail

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the infirmary hadn’t been this busy in years.

luckily it cleared out fairly quickly with most injuries being kids getting cut from trees or falling on their knees, quick and easy to patch up.

some were more severe than others, actual cuts from swords on accident, the no maiming rule had apparently been ignored this game.

the worst one was at the end of the game, the conch echoed throughout camp. only one bed in the infirmary remained empty, others being taken up by people currently being stitched up or ones resting.

the front doors burst open, causing you to whip your head around being the only one not currently working. chris led in luke castellan hanging on his shoulder.

his helmet had been discarded, revealing a cut on his cheek and his left side covered in dirt. your eyes trailed down to his hand that clutched his right side, his orange camp shirt seeping with blood.

“oh my gods?!” you exclaimed, running forward to help chris lead the weaker boy to the empty bed. he groaned as he sat down, applying pressure onto his wound as you pulled on gloves, “what happened?”

“some ares kid i forget his name.” chris said, hand on luke’s shoulder, “luke grabbed the flag and he didn’t like the idea of losing.”

you narrow your eyes at chris, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “i’ll take it from here chris, go clean up.”

you sat back in your chair sighing, luke stared at you with a smirk. his bloodied shirt had been discarded to the floor, his stomach stained red with blotchy spots around the stitches you had just finished. exhausted from the day and the worry about luke you plopped in the seat across from him after cleaning up.

“worried about me?” he questioned, a tight lipped smile on his face, trying to act innocent.

“yeah actually, i was.” you said plainly, staring daggers at him, “we both know you are smarter than that, how did you let him get a hit?”

he shrugs, fiddling with the pockets of his cargo shorts, “slipped up i guess.”

you don’t respond in any way, not a subtle body movement, just staring at him.

“i’m fine. you stitched me up.” he said, to which you nodded.

“doesn’t change how terrified i was when you first walked in, luke.” you whispered, he leaned forward as if he had trouble hearing you which he almost did. you stood up to pace the room, interrupted by his rough hand gripping yours, dragging you to stand in between his legs, hand hovering over your waist, scared to touch you.

“i care about you. there i said it, happy?” you admitted, staring down at his brown eyes. a blush appeared on his cheeks as a lopsided smile appeared on his lips.

“that’s all i wanted to hear.” he responded, not taking his eyes off you, “how about a kiss to make me feel better.”

“it would be evil of me to say no, wouldn’t it?”

“yeah actually, i got stabbed i think you have to.” he muttered, placing a finger to his chin like he was thinking, you shook your head biting your lip to hide a grin (it didn’t work.), but he didn’t have time to process your facial expressions when you finally connected your lips to his.

it felt like something he had been waiting years to do, his stomach bursting with a fluttery feeling that made him feel anxious, but it didn’t stop him from kissing back.

his lips were rough, having bit them to distract himself from the pain earlier, while yours felt like you had just put on chapstick, cherry to be specific.

which you had.

he almost pulled you on top of him had a scream not interrupted you, both pulling apart to stare at the door.

clarisse, chris and silena stood there, jaws basically touching the ground as their eyes popped out of their heads.

———————————————————

tags ⋆ @rosieandthethorns @luvvfromme @pleasingregulus @taelattecookie @csifandom @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @annybah @fxiryeon @yourgirl-mila @harrysnovia @jacqulinm05 @balletfilmss @candylandy8173 @aheheb @ohheyitsrowan @eubybubble @kidkrowk @coconut-dreamz @mehrmonga @auras-moonstone @notacluelessblonde00 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @pipravi4life @witch-demon @gitchagitchyayadada @amortencjja @svnny-days @yuminako @ily-promise @beedeebee @ahh-chickens @ssparksflyy @remussbitch @cherryynovaa @bibblesdiscordkitten @m00ng4z3r @awezomezauce @happy-mushrooms @mxtokko @idli-dosa

[bittersweetstargazer]

okay yeah so I made this off of that one post by @frownyalfred about Clark not understanding that human can sense like danger bc he obviously. isn't. so anyways. there's two of them and they're both short– the 1st one is 600 words and the 2nd one is 400 words because I have other things to do with my life currently and I would probably add more to them and maybe I will in the future but this is the best it's gonna get for now (unbetaed as usual)

Untitled by bittersweetstargazer:

1.

Clark stood next to Bruce as Jon and Damian scurried over to the next house in the neighborhood. He chuckled as Jon tripped and almost fell, catching himself only by using his powers of flight. Damian had grabbed him by the back of his costume like scuffing a cat.

"They look so . . . happy." Clark commented, bumping his, shoulder against Bruce's. Bruce snorted, pointing at his own son.

"Damian looks like he's about to stab Jon. I'd hardly describe that as happy."

"Fortunately, he doesn't have his kryptonite sword."

"Oh, I wouldn't trust that. It looks like his sword is covered in lead. To cover what? The world can only dream."

Clark tensed, trying to look through the (supposedly fake) sword Damian brought as part of his costume, jaw dropping when he couldn't.

"You mean he—!"

"No." Bruce snorted. "He made it out of plastic but covered it in a thin layer of lead to mess with Jon."

"Why is your son making empty threats to mine?"

"Did you really expect anything else from him?"

"Like father, like son, I suppose." They both turned to each other and glared.

"Anyway," Clark huffed, "I think it would be nice if we could just have a nice, calm night of no crime-fighting together, right?"

"And with our children."

"Together. And our children, yes."

Bruce shrugged. "Sure."

Clark's left eye twitched. "Right."

They walked off to go join their children just as Damian started scolding at Jon for messing up their innocent act.

"Imbecile!" Damian hissed. "You said the wrong thing! Did you see how many pieces of candy we got? Five! Do you remember how many we got last year? Seven!"

"I'm sorry! My suit was pinching me and I couldn't focus!"

"It doesn't matter about how uncomfortable you are, you must stick to the script!"

"But I—!"

"Boys." Clark cut in. "You already have plenty of candy. And Damian, you're rich. You can buy more candy anytime."

"It's not about the stupid candy!" Damian scoffs. "Half of these aren't vegan-friendly anyways. It's about how much candy we can exploit from these suckers."

"Damian." Bruce raised an eyebrow and his son fell silent. "Although, I must say, your current strategy is quite succe—"

Bruce tensed, falling silent. It didn't escape Clark's notice when Damian also tensed as well. Hm. His earlier statement didn't seem to extend to just murderous tendencies.

"Bruce?"

Bruce shushed him. "Something's not right."

"Not right?" Clark and Jon shared a look. "Everything seems fine. How do you know? Get a report from O in your earpiece?"

Bruce shook his head, eyes looking around sharply. "Someone's watching us."

Before Clark could even begin to think of a response to that, Bruce jumped forward right as a gunshot rang out, covering Damian.

Jon screamed as Bruce grunted, a blossom of red blooming from his right bicep. Damian scowled, pulling out a sword from a hidden sheath on his body. Jon went white.

"You had that on you the entire time??" He whimpered, backing towards Clark. "Relax, dimwit. It's not made of Kryptonite."

Bruce pulled off his shirt, craning his head to inspect his wound. He hissed as the fabric brushed against the broken skin, spreading the blood further across his arm.

"We should get out of here before our mystery sniper takes another shot. We're easy pickings out here in the open."

He pressed his shirt against his arm, attempting to stifle the blood flow. Clark picked him up and tried not to brush against his gunshot wound as Bruce struggled to get back down.

"My arm is injured, not my legs."

"I still don't want to risk any side effects you might get from blood loss. I know you have a high pain tolerance but transportation would be much easier this way. Also, the faster we can get you to Alfred, the better."

Bruce sighed as he settled back into Clark's arms, lip curling as he was lifted into the air. He heard Damian start to curse in another language as Jon attempted to lift him as well.

"Language." Bruce muttered, head sliding down to meet Clark's chest. Clark simply chuckled and flew down the familiar path to Wayne Manor.

2.

Bruce grit his teeth as Clark landed on his balcony, the familiar feeling of his neck hairs rising washing over him once more. He tried to focus back on his book, but he found it difficult with his body desperately trying to warn him about a nearby threat, which happened to not be a threat at all.

"Hey B!" Clark greeted, his smile unnaturally bright, like the sun on the earth, like warmth on a cold day. It made him shiver.

"Hello, Clark." Bruce replied simply. It was always hard to grit out more than a few words in his presence, as he constantly felt like he should turn tail and run. It was one of the reasons why he chooses to communicate with grunts rather than speaking.

Clark walked inside, plopping himself on Bruce's bed. "Busy today? There's a game tonight and Gotham is playing against Metropolis. I got some tickets, if you'd like to come? I've already asked Lois, but she's too busy following her newest Lex scoop."

"Which is?"

"She's convinced that Luthor's been ordering sex toys filled with Kryptonite as a way to avoid detection. After he was caught last press conference, he tried to play it off as a new product they were planning on branching out to, but everyone knows that—"

"That Luthor's bald head is probably the last thing you'd want to get off to? Yeah, I figured."

"Yeah. Anyways, I'm pretty sure that one she finds what she's looking for she's gonna get one for me as a 'souvenir'. God, I hope she doesn't. That would be awkward to explain."

"Mhm." Bruce hummed, placing his book face-down on the table, unable to even continue the farce of reading it.

"So, about that game? I'll pay for everything if I have to." Clark waved the tickets in front of him, trying to tempt Bruce into accepting.

"Clark, you are aware that I'm a billionaire."

"Yeah, I know." Clark huffed. "Can't I just do something nice for my friend every once in a while?"

Bruce shook his head fondly, reaching over to grab his ticket from Clark's hand, trying to ignore the spike of fear he felt while getting closer.

"B, you good?" Clark frowned at him. "I heard your heart skip a beat or two."

"Fine." Bruce waved him off. "Let's talk about the game. I can't let you sit there thinking your team is going to win while I know very well the Knights are."

"Hey!"

[rbinsgf]

Turn the other cheek, and I take it on the chin /Part 2/

Part 1

The sky was blue, two and two made four and Eddie was a coward.

Those were the irrefutable truth of the world. Eddie used to call his behavior "self-preservation" when he ran away from cops and angry jocks mob, or when he skipped a class he couldn’t understand, or when he ran away after witnessing one of the most traumatizing death in the history of mankind.

But as he saw Robin Buckley angrily stomping down his stairs and into his basement, he couldn’t qualify his next course of actions of anything but cowardice.

He had known day more glorious but as he shielded himself from the furious woman with a, for once, quite Mike Wheeler, he couldn’t care less about his image in front of his club.

Hypocritical right ? Yeah that’s another truth Eddie was very well aware about himself but who would dare look him in the eye and spit that fact in his face ?

Robin Buckley actually, as she did not hesitate to shove Mike out of the way and grab Eddie by the collar of his worn out Hellfire shirt, bringing him dangerously close to her angry red face, and shoving him against the wall.

"You, Edward Theodore Munson, are the biggest hypocrite I’ve ever seen. How dare you force those big monologues on conformity and "Hawkins’ monster" on us on top of those poor cafeteria tables, only to turn around and do exactly what you so loudly claim to be against ?"

Eddie was petrified, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers. The basement was as quiet as ever, everyone seemed to hold their breath, too scared they might remind Robin of their presence.

"Steve changed, actually no, he didn’t change. He just had the courage to show his true self, he stripped away from the role that was forced on him by his parents, friends, everyone in this shitty town and by you too. He would and has put his life on the line so many times for every single one of you," She said the last part louder, slightly tilting her head to the side towards a specific side of the table but never moving her rage filled gaze from Eddie’s wide eyes. "He trusted you Eddie, he confided in you and what did you do ? You humiliated him by using his vulnerability against him. I hope you’re happy your pathetic little audience appreciated the spectacle." A protest formed itself on Jeff’s lips but was quickly shut off by a quick glare and an honest to god growl from Robin.

"You know what truly breaks my heart Eddie ? Steve still defended you and he doesn’t even blame you ! Do with that information what you want but I hope it makes you feel so bad you won’t be able to look yourself in any type of reflection for as long as possible."

She slowly stepped away from him, releasing her grip on his shirt and making a show of dusting him off,

"If you want to know what I think of this shit show Eddie. You don’t deserve him." She turned around, facing the kids, "and you guys are a bunch of ungrateful brats who don’t deserve Steve and all that he does for you."

She only looked at the older Hellfire members with disgust before turning back to Eddie. The man in question was looking at the ground, his head hanging guiltily and shoulder hunched.

Robin stepped back into his space, her mouth close to his ear, and let out her final strike in a quite sigh,

"And to think that man saved your life.."

With that, she left as she came, the front door banging loudly behind her.

That last sentence she had whispered in his ear sent a glacial chill down Eddie’s spine. It stabbed through his chest in plain and shameful guilt. Eddie sat heavily on his throne. A throne that Steve had spent two weeks making since the basketball team had burned his old one when he was on the run. He lost himself in a spiral of shame and regrets, cringing at himself as he pictured how it all went down earlier and how, even after noticing Steve leaving, they’d kept that same behavior. Laughing at the expense of the poor man like hyenas. One by one, the older members left quietly. The kids stayed a little longer, sitting in silence before all leaving in a quiet agreement. Eddie only registered Dustin telling him they will be using the phone to call for a drive home. A drive home that, for the first time since the boys had joined Hellfire, wouldn’t be Steve.

Eddie had fucked up, that much was very clear. He also knew why he said all those horrible things, he craved the validation and admiration of his sheepies and hellfire friends.

The only way he had found to maintain those was to do what he had always done.

To the detriment of his friends, Eddie was a hypocrite, selfish and coward man. Eddie saw an opportunity to remind his club of who he was, Eddie "the Freak" Munson, natural nemesis of the jocks.

Robin’s words kept circling in his mind viciously.

The sheer fury that emanated of her trembling frame was enough for Eddie to imagine how bad his words must’ve affected Steve.

He knew those exact words would hurt him and he still said them.

He also knew Steve, through and through now, and with that came the knowledge of what Steve might be thinking about himself right now.

Because his sweet, kind and good Steve, didn’t even blame him one bit. Eddie’s words had definitely hit a very tender spot in Steve’s myriad of insecurities and self doubts.

The man was probably descending full speed through the worst of his self deprecating thoughts right now.

Eddie wished the bats had eaten him alive as the thought of Steve believing Eddie saw him for who he was not.

Eddie would rather Vecna came back as a zombie than Steve Harrington taking his stupid, stupid words at heart and believing them.

If Eddie was going to do one last thing, it was to make sure that Steve knew he wasn’t seen as anything but the painfully good man he truly was.

Resignation filled his mind and he pushed himself up from the throne, walked out of the basement and took the keys of his van before stepping, in the soon to be dark, street.

Eddie was going to see Steve, apologize but most importantly beg the man to not take Eddie’s words for one of the universe’s truth.

It’ll be the last thing he’ll do if Robin Buckley didn’t kill him before for daring to stand in the same vicinity as her friend.

———————————————

Here’s part 2 !! And Eddie’s pov yay !! I’m so grateful for your response to the first part as it’s also a response to me getting back to writing and it motivates me so much guys !!!

Next part will be up in a few days since I’m going back to college full time but I’ll do my best to update this little fic as soon as possible !

I tried to tag everyone who asked for it and hope it all worked ?

Love y’all gang ! 🫶🏼🧡

Tag list : @liketheocean @cameheretoread @doubleb11 @m-owo-n @moonage-daydreaming @shitnshit @throwbackthrowaway @a-huge-nerdy-nerd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @zerokrox-blog @summer1066 @thesuninyaface @i-less-three-than-you @gamerdano @ineffablecolors @warriorwerewolfheart @tinysuits @cr0w-culture @thatonepotatochild @classicwho @lololol-1234 @what-is-life-but-an-empty-void @victor-thee-corvid @little-gae-shit @livelaughlexa @a-little-unsteady @stevie-crow @val-from-lawrence

[sealrock]

09. lend an ear

no content warnings word count: 940 words

If Hector had spoken up earlier to break the stalemate, he wouldn't be soaked to the skin. He situated himself on a nearby rock, watching as Achille and Melita, both equally soaked, barked insults to each other as the heavens dumped a deluge's worth of rare rain onto the parched Thanalan plains, right on the cusp of winter. Somehow, the trio got lost on their way back from Hector's gleaner assignment, and Hector forgot to take his map with him, a rookie mistake he never thought to make four years into his career. Trying to rely on waymarks was difficult when you have people yelling at each other over your head.

"This is all your fault!"

"How is it my fault!? You're the one who said you knew this area like the back of your hand, you fucking shrew!"

"I do, but I also didn't have to deal with a dishonest kvetch who doesn't know which way is up!"

Achille offered an indignant grunt in response, his red hair sticking to the back of his neck and dripping with rainwater. Melita stood on the opposite side of the road, hands curled to fists and shoulders quivering with rage. Achille, saying only that he was from Ishgard, obviously had no clue where they were going, but he couldn't help but jab at their traveling companion's blunder of taking the wrong path back to camp. To add insult to injury, the trio stumbled into a nest of antlings and had to run for their lives, further straying from the beaten path.

Melita, a self-proclaimed mercenary Hector met in a seedy tavern on the outskirts of Ul'dah, only agreed to come along because Hector not-so-subtly begged her for her aid, ignoring Achille's advice to reconsider. He didn't know the landscape all too well with his assignments keeping him closer to home in the temperate regions of Dravania.

"We could've taken that pack of antlings easy, or are your spindly arms not strong enough to lift that rusty sword of yours?"

Melita let out a frustrated growl at Achille's attempt to rile her up, a petty smirk spreading across his face as she fell for it.

"Oh, sure, I trust you and your little gats could handle even the mightiest of vilekin! Such a shame your aim is hindered by your lopsided vision!"

Hector cringed at that; if it was one thing he learned from traveling with Achille, he learned to never ask about Achille's missing left eye. Melita had only been with them for two moons, but she wasn't doing herself any favors.

Hector could've jumped in to break them up before things turned ugly, but he didn't.

Hector wasn't the assertive type—the word "no" wasn't in his vocabulary. If he had a problem, he would figure it out himself so as not to be a bother, but if other people had problems, he would drop everything to help them. It was in his nature to give, to always lend an ear to those in need, even if it meant he didn't receive the same treatment in kind. Hector was the type of person to be easily taken advantage of, someone who didn't think twice if somebody was trying to stab him in the back before offering the shirt off his back. Achille once remarked that he had no spine, something Hector easily agreed with (he didn't miss Achille's dissatisfied side eye).

Hector knew it made him much like a doormat, someone who rolls over at the first sign of disagreement to try and appease people. He would try his best to be the neutral party in arguments, but he would make it worse by not taking either side. So to be caught between two lovely, but extremely bullheaded, people who couldn't see eye to eye on anything took him out of his comfort zone. Hector seemed to attract people like that; those with prickly, cheerless exteriors latch onto his squishy and malleable personality. The fact this happened twice concerned him a bit.

That is why he's currently stuck in a downpour, his boots soggy and skin goosefleshed, with nothing more to say than a defeated sigh and a stifled sneeze. Achille and Melita paused their verbal assault to watch Hector descend into a sneezing fit; Hector didn't see their guilt-ridden stares from the curtain of his bangs. A sudden weight fell over him and a familiar scent tickled his nose—it was Achille's bulky leather coat. It practically swallowed him as he slipped his arms through the sleeves.

"Wear this, it'll keep you warm, though it might not be much help now."

"But," Hector sniffled, burrowing himself into the coat, "what about you?"

"I'll live."

Hector noticed how Achille's tone wasn't that of anger or derision, it was soft and awkward as the taller man refused to look him in the eye. Exposed in the rain, Achille's scarred, strong arms seemed to not react to the change in temperature, his twin pistols holstered at his hips. With little effort, Achille slung Hector's pack over his shoulder as he led the gleaner to Melita's place under a nearby tree for an ounce of shelter. She rolled her eyes when she and Achille glanced at each other, though Hector could tell she felt a bit ashamed for her behavior.

Hector understood why gleaners traveled alone, so he couldn't help it when he let out a small chuckle, standing between his two bodyguards.

"I'm not a bodyguard."

"I'm not your bodyguard!"

Without thinking, the two of them were in unison with their response. Embarrassed, the two looked in opposite directions with a scoff.

Hector blinked. He didn't mean to say that out loud.

[ichigo-dream]

Show Me Your Teeth

Another one for fans of our boy Dabi ~

Let me know what you think.

Enjoy xoxo - Ichigo

18+ only, Minors DNI, NSFW

All rights reserved: do not translate, plagiarise, claim my writing or cross post it on any other platforms, leave my writing alone.

AO3 Link - https://archiveofourown.org/works/44813605

The girl’s trying to kill him. Dabi knows this to be an objective fact. At this point in his life, he’s used to people trying to kill him (the novelty wears off after a while)

People had been trying to kill him since he was born, whether they intended to or not. How many times had someone tried to strangle him in his sleep, to stab him on the streets, to bludgeon him to death in a back alley?

Not that any had every succeeded. No one had the right to kill him, no one except for himself.

So why, he questions, does this girl have the audacity to try to take what is rightfully his. His life. She thinks she can just kill him. Just, do him in. Flaunt herself and smile in his face like she isn’t the one pulling the lever that was drawing the rope tight around his throat, starving him, letting him kick and flail and choke, bulging eyes with bursting blood vessels focusing solely on her. His executioner. His murderer. That girl.

No. He thinks, watching as she sidles up to Boss, smiling that smile at him, putting her lips to the rim of the glass that he hands to her. Not a girl. Something else. Not quite a woman.

Her little face screws up. Boss’ choice wasn’t everyone’s taste, and he hopes she chokes on it. He hopes she’ll boke it up and choke, ridding herself of it, see how much she likes not being able to breathe.

Her tongue comes out to wet at her lips, clearly unhappy with the lingering taste in her mouth, and she reminds Dabi of a cat. Disgruntled. Disgusting.

Disgusting how her eyes meet his and glimmer, smiling brightly at him, and if he wasn’t as attuned to her as he is, he never would’ve noticed how much wider it seemed to be when she directed it at him.

Disgusting how he feels a choking feeling when he sees her making her way over to him, stopping before him and having to crane her head to meet his eyes. Maybe if he bent over to speak to her it wouldn’t be so hard to breathe.

“You’re being quiet tonight, Dabi.” She says, and God her voice makes the rope tighten.

Maybe if you’d let me breathe, I could talk to you more. He thinks, managing to make a small humming sound in response.

“Did you hear what the others were saying earlier? How-“ He tunes her out, hyper fixated on the way her lips form syllables.

Always running her goddamn mouth, asking him ow his day was going, how he was, if he’d like a drink, something to eat, had he slept well, and looking at him with that stupid fucking look in her eyes.

He can’t think. Can’t breathe. Fucking bitch.

One arm surges up and grasps her by the front of her shirt roughly pulling her from the room.

She makes a little strangled sound as he practically carries her to a different room. Good. Let her choke. See how she liked it.

He crashes through the door to a room and with a hoarse shout the room is cleared; he is left alone with her, and he pulls her over, throwing himself down onto the sofa and yanking her down into his lap.

She doesn’t say anything. She just smirks at him, and watches, hands coming up to rest on his shoulders.

He bares his teeth at her, hands coming up to clench around her cheeks, to wipe that smile off her face.

His thumbs run up and down her cheeks and he lets them catch on the corners of her mouth, pressing in. He hisses as she yields to him, eyes not moving from their place watching him curiously.        

Dabi is fascinated at how her teeth feel under his thumbs, and fuck was her mouth tiny or were his hands always this big? Two thumbs and her little cheeks are already stretched, trying to accommodate him.

He slips his thumbs out, one hand cupping her jaw and forcing it to stay hinged open, whilst he dips in with his dingers. He wets the top of one and runs it over her lips, circling round her lips.

She keeps watching him. Somehow, he knows that if his hands weren’t in her mouth she’d still be smiling at him.

The thought awakens something cruel in him. He jams his fore and middle fingers into the back of her throat and the way her throat clenches around them as she gags punches the air out of him.

His stomach is in knots, tight and coiled, waiting for something.

Her saliva is spilling down his arm in rivers, but he can’t stop, in awe of how her cheeks become rosy, how she keeps making cute little noises every time his fingers meet with the back of her throat, or they curl around her tongue.

Fuck. Dabi lets out a shuddering moan as her tongue wraps around his fingers, chasing and moving with them, like it was the most natural thing for them.

Something changes on her face, as she keeps moaning around his fingers, and the next moment her hands have left his shoulders and he feels them grasping at his belt.

He makes a sound. Not of protest. More of surprise. She doesn’t mark it, as she unbuckles his trousers and pulls his dick free.

He moans in relief, to not be constrained anymore, to have the godly friction of her hand. With every pump of his fingers into her mouth and throat she matches his movements, stroking her hands up and down his dick and fuck this was escalating far more than Dabi was expecting. He just wanted to deal with the feeling he’d been having. Not. Whatever this was. But he’s not complaining.

All of a sudden, her hands leave him and they come up to pull his fingers from her mouth. He goes to protest, when she sinks, opened mouthed, soaking chin and chest, blush high on her cheeks, to her knees between his legs.

He goes to make a sound when her open mouth devours him. With a moan that is so embarrassing that it makes a blush rise on the healthy skin of his face, Dabi throws one hand over his eyes, the other coming down to clench in her hair.

Fuck, her mouth feels so much better around his dick.

He watches as she sinks up and down on him, tongue swirling around him just as she did to his fingers and his hips keep jerking forward, forcing more of himself down her throat.

He lets out a shout as he feels her gag around him. God, why can’t he shut up? His hand comes down to cover his mouth and he can’t stop himself from sucking on his fingers, the ones still coated in her saliva like a man starved. It’s like an indirect kiss.

Her hands are holding his hips in place to stop his jerking, aborted thrusts, and he feels the tension in his stomach beginning to peak, breathing short, and his thighs trembling.

“Fuck, please, please, I’m gonna-“ Dabi whimpers out, and he can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed. Not when his words made her take him even deeper, sucking harder and he couldn’t have pulled her off if he tried.

With a whining moan, he comes in her mouth, head thrown back to rest against the back of the sofa as he pants and whines softly as she keeps sucking and licking at him.

Eventually, she pulls off of him and he meets her eyes.

Dabi can breathe.

He smiles at her, staples pulling obscenely at the corners of his mouth and cheeks.

She smiles at him, and the air leaves him once more as his come spills from the corners of her mouth. Not looking away, he is mesmerised as her throat bobs and he can hear her swallowing him. It’s enough for him to blush again.

She licks at the spilled bits and he is reminded of a cat.

This girl will kill him.

Maybe, he could get used to that idea.

[shywhumpauthor]

Wait I want to remain anonymous do this one instead lol

Part 2 of the yandere one?

Maybe whumpee needs a punishment. Nothing that'll scar though ;)

Honestly anon you’ve got me hooked with this. I have no clue what I’m doing, all I know is that it is fun.

Previous

Cw: kidnapping, mentioned past murder, blood, noncon touching, manipulation, emotional abuse, manhandling, creepy whumper, past torture/abuse, captivity, idk it’s creepy and yandere and brutal. Lots of manipulation

Whumpee’s hands were shaking as they stared down at the white porcelain tiles laid in diamonds across the bathroom floor, the dark grey grout making the individual pieces appear luminous in a simple, minimalistic pattern. Their eyes drifted across the rows, unfocused and watery as they counted them over and over. Somewhere in the back of their mind, the answer was already stored, along with the deeply repressed memories of all the nights they had spent alone, cold and hurting laying on that floor, unable to pick themself up and drag them to the bath to clean up.

Their skin was warm, flushed with the heat of so many conflicting emotions, cooled only slightly as they braced their palms against the edge of the bath where they now sat. The faint rush of water buzzed in their ears, but it did nothing to block out the terrible noises that seemed to be playing on repeat through their skull. The cries and screams, gasps and pleas that were muffled by a mouthful of blood looping on an endless cycle, with each return of the dreaded sounds a new pinprick stabbed through their heart. Long since torn from their chest, they felt numb, disturbed only by light tremors as goosebumps rose along their skin. Even bundled up, Whumper’s jacket that smelled terribly like them wrapped tightly around their shoulders to protect them from the cold air outside, Whumpee felt as if they had been left bare in a snowstorm.

Their body reacted before their mind once the sink shut off and Whumper turned to them, flinching back before they could begin to see what was happening. For a fleeting moment, they tensed, anticipating the wicked sting of a slap to their face, but contrary to their fears Whumper just sighed. When Whumpee looked up, forcing their shoulders back from where they had hunched over, Whumper’s gaze was not angry like they had expected. They just looked sad, exhausted. For a second, it unnerved them, when Whumper crouched to one knee. They had cleaned themself in the sink moments before, scrubbing their hands and face clean from all residue of the night before, but it wasn’t enough to disguise the truth. Whumpee could see the speckles of dried scarlet on their shirt, decorating the exposed flesh where their shirt sagged against their collarbone and the cuffs of their sleeves. The tender affection in their eyes did not hide the ruthless murderer they had witnessed an hour before.

“You’ll be alright, my love,” Whumper sighed quietly, their voice gentle like the early morning waves against the shore, the sunrise beyond that paints the sky rosy and golden. A beautiful dawn to hide the storm clouds projected far beyond. Red sky in morning, sailor’s take warning after all.

They raised the washcloth which they held to Whumpee’s face, the pressure behind their touch light and forbearing and all too much. Soaked in warm water, the dreaded being in front of them began to work away at the since dried smears of blood across their cheek, a mark they had left earlier. To anyone else, it may have looked like a pitiful attempt to soothe them, an accidental smudge while trying to provide comfort in face of fresh trauma. Whumpee knew better than that. Whumper didn’t do accidents. They didn’t make mistakes. Everything they did was intentional, cold and calculated through the most manipulative of minds. For a while, Whumpee had fallen prey to this façade. They had so desperately clung to the affection, turning a blind eye to the warnings that came along. With a hand caressing their cheek, they were once blind to the blood staining the palm.

They weren’t blind anymore. They felt every flicker of contact, every prolonged graze as Whumper slowly cleaned their face. They hadn’t asked, offered their assistance or even allowed Whumpee a chance to do it themself. From the car they had led them straight inside, through the door with more locks than any bank’s most secure vault, to the bathroom where they had sat them down on the side of the bathtub and told them to stay there. Stay there and be good for me. I’ll get you cleaned up.

“I know you don’t see it this way, but I’m only trying to help you.”

The warm of the cloth turned to ice against their cheek, Whumpee could no longer hold their gaze. Emotion swelled in their throat, a lump against their windpipe obstructing each breath.

“I know you see me as the bad guy, but I promise you, Whumpee, all I’ve ever done was for you.”

Words built and died against Whumpee’s lips as Whumper’s fingers brushed their skin, the cloth dragging lightly across their jaw. They didn’t look up.

“Do you know how much it hurt when you left me?” Whumper’s voice dropped to a whisper, and Whumpee couldn’t help but buckle under the sudden tension in the air, their shoulders curling inwards. “I have given so much to you, my love, and yet still, it wasn’t enough.”

Their touch was delicate, dancing across Whumpee’s face, the cloth dropping to the floor discarded as Whumper hooked a finger under their chin, the pressure enough to be commanding without being willful. Teasing, toying with them. Like a cat with a mouse, pawing lightly at it’s pretty before unveiling the razor claws from the innocent tufts of fur.

“You’re confused, Whumpee. All I’ve ever wanted to do was make you happy, but you still run from me. I tried to give you space, and look at the mess you’ve gotten into. You need me, I know you don’t want to admit it, but it’s true.”

It’s true. It’s true. You need me. You’re nothing without me. You hear me? Nothing.

“No.” Whumpee whispered, twisting their head away with a spur of movement. “No, you.. caretaker told me everything. You- you hurt me.”

Whumper paused, taken aback by the sudden outburst. For a moment, they stood still, frozen in place. Then they stood, straightening to their full height to tower over Whumpee, expression unreadable as the sudden vantage cast angular shadows from the vanity’s lighting across their darkened face.

“Caretaker lied to you, Whumpee.” Their voice was no longer kind. They reached down and grabbed them by the wrist, pulling them to their feet in a rough movement. Still stunned from the earlier events, Whumpee’s body did not know how to disobey, leaving them to stumble up while their legs wobbled. “All they ever did was lie. They were trying to turn you against me. And it worked, I see. Not even a month, and they’ve filled your head with these.. these delusions.”

“Stop,” Whumpee’s voice broke, a tear leaking from the corner of their eye, spilling down their cheek. Not the first, certainly not the last that would fall. “Let me go, Whumper, please-”

They were already being pulled towards the door, the grip on their arm firm. They couldn’t pull away, not with their exhausted weakened struggles. They knew where they were going long before Whumper led them to the hall.

“You know I hate doing this to you, Whumpee, but you’re not giving me much of a choice,” Whumper’s voice was tight, their face turned away as they marched up to a door. A terrible, familiar door. “I’ll bring you some fresh clothes and supper in a while. We’ll see if you’re thinking straighter tomorrow morning, and go from there.”

The door was pushed open, the old hinges creaking in protest. The tears were streaming down their face now, but Whumpee couldn’t bring themself to beg this time. They stumbled when Whumper gave them a light push, feet nearly falling from under them as they were directed into the dark room.

“I love you, Whumpee. That’s why I’m doing this.” Whumper gave a final sigh, their face illuminated dimly. Expression solemn, the door shut, blocking out the last bits of light before the lock clicked into place.

—————————————

I’m having way too much fun with this.

Any interest in a pt 3?

[nescaveckwriter]

Moonflowers & Werewolves - Chapter Six 🥰🥳

A/N: Y'all it's been awhile I know, but hopefully this chapter will make it worth it...❤️💕 Love y'all and thanks for the support my bugs 🐞🐞🩷

Warnings: 18+ Only! Some language, violence, fluffy, fear, a little bit of smut.. anything else I missed let me know💕

Characters: Derek, Maddie, Tom.

Cover: Created by me. Also images from Pinterest and Canva. Also please do not copy my work!

Words:1500😅

Chapter Name: Six 💕

Her hazel brown eyes widened, her voice shaky “T…Tom?” Derek stood there, his hands still on her hips, he didn’t even need his heightened sense, to know this guy is a… he bit his lower lip, letting out a slight growl. Madison didn’t even take notice, he could see the fear written all over her beautiful face. Maybe it was instinct but he immediately led her to stand behind him, his jaw clenching, “Can we help you?”

The slick looking guy came walking towards them, he had this mocking sound in his voice, “Oh did you get yourself a bodyguard Maddie?”

Derick let out a muffled growl, clenching and unclenching his fist’s trying to not turn into a werewolf, he hated this guy already. “No! I’m her boyfriend” 

Tom laughed, “Ha! Please you get out of here buddy, I’m her husband”

Derek felt a stab at his heart, turning to look Maddie in the eyes, almost whispering “Your married?” 

She shook her head, her voice brittle “N…no I filed for divorce, but he wouldn’t sign the papers”

Tom came closer towards Derick, tapping him on his shoulder “listen here buddy…” before he could finish his sentence Derick’s palm meet his chest, picking him up by the shirt, Tom is being lifted in the air, Derek’s voice is deeper than normal “listen to me, Get the hell out of Madison’s house, and if I see you come near her again” now sounding more like a growl “I’ll rip your throat out with my teeth” and with one movement he threw the man on the floor close to the door.

Tom grunted in pain, that man didn’t look so strong, how the hell did he manage to pick him up and throw him like a damn paperweight through the air? He got up, in a barely audible voice “I’ll be back for you Maddie”

Derek turned towards Madison, his voice low and calm when he talked to her, he had a very good idea what happened, but he had to ask “Did your husband abuse you?” The way she looked at him broke his heart, like she remembered every slap, every fist, every kick, every beating he’d ever given her. She started to cry, feeling weak and helpless, her body shaking, her voice breaking “H…he was, no one knew”

He didn't really say anything, he took her trembling body into his arms, her head resting against his muscular çhest, his fingers brushing her long hair, he places a kiss on the top of her head, a faint whisper rolled over his lips “I'm so sorry” in that moment she found solace, a sense of comfort, she never felt, she didn't utter a single word, she just stood there in his embrace. 

It's been two weeks since Tom showed up, but he hasn't visited Maddie's house again as a matter of fact, it's like he disappeared not that it bothered her, but the unknown made her a little anxious, but in the days passed, the bond between Derek and her grew. That's what she's busy with right now, making a special dinner, just to thank him for everything, she's really fallen in love with him, with a supernatural being, did it make sense? No. But when does love make sense? 

Placing candles on the table, the whole scene looked romantic, all that was needed was for her to get dressed into something other than these food stained clothes. Checking the clock on the wall, she has an hour left before he comes, quickly runs into the bathroom, running a cherry blossom bubble bath. Finally with only five minutes to spare she's done, her dark hair hanging loosely, framing her face, a blue summer's dress hugging her curves perfectly, the scent lingering in the air was the cherry blossom from earlier. Somehow she felt nervous, and excited at the same time. Walking up and down checking herself, over and over in the mirror, she felt like a teenager in love, with the most handsome guy. 

He stood there checking his hair, in the window, breathing into his hands, just too check if his breath is as minty as the taste in his mouth, somehow he felt nervous, they are still getting to know each other, but he can’t remember the last time he felt this way, so with one last check in the window, his calloused hands runs through his hair. He knocks on the door, his heart beating out of his chest, and as she opens the door, looking at her in that blue summer’s dress, she takes his breath away, smiling at her, his voice coming out a little husky “Hello Maddie?” the way she smiled when she said, “welcome, come in” he hands her a single red rose, taking it from him, she smells the velvety flower, “thank you” giving him a small kiss on the cheek while standing on her tippy toes.

Her scent, filled his nostrils, cherry blossom and coconut he thinks, she walks into the living room, talking about something, but he couldn’t really focus, he eyes lingered on her perfect body, from her beautiful long hair, the hem of the dress as it covers her legs, and then her barefoot walking on the white tile floor, her calling him “Derek are you coming?” made him shift out of the trans, closing the door behind him, he walked towards the kitchen. “Sorry, what did you say?” she smiled at him, shaking her head “white or red?” Tilting his head slightly “what?” she laughs and it sounds heavenly “the wine, which one do you want?” He snickers a little “Oh” rubbing the back of his neck, “red, thank you” he takes in the view, the effort she’s done, everything looks so perfect, so romantic. “You went through all this trouble, it wasn’t necessary” handing him his wine, smiling a little shyly “I… I wanted to make it special.” taking a sip of her wine.

His eyes darted by the way her lips, touch the rim of her wine glass, and without hesitation he strides closer, taking the wine glass out of her hand placing it down with his, on the countertop, his hands cups her face, her brown eyes glistening, and without warning, his lips crashes against hers, he could taste the wine on her lips, with some sort of lip balm. She moaned softly, and that's when his tongue grazed her bottom lip, seeking entry, she parted her soft lips, and it didn’t take long for their tongues to do a passionate dance. Her palms was resting against his muscular chest, and as his hand got tangled in her hair, as he pulled her closer, her hands roamed up towards his neck, her fingernails slighting grazing his skin, which in return sent shivers down his spine, he lets out a slight growl. Without breaking the passionate kiss, his hands trace her curves till he’s at the back of her thighs, picking her up swiftly, placing her down on the kitchen countertop, he deepened the kiss, it didn’t take her long, she wrapped her legs around his waist, soft moans, falling against his lips, and, was it a beautiful sound. He pulled back coming up for air, after a few seconds she opened her eyes as well, looking into his green orbs, slowly gathering her breath, he looked at her, his voice hoarse from the passionate kiss “damn your beautiful” covering her face with her hands, too hide how flustered she is, sounding more breathy than intended “t…thank you” his hands peeled hers off her gorgeous face, “don’t hide from me, you are gorgeous” sounding husky.But before she could reply, his lips met hers in yet another endearing kiss, the passion and heat coursed through their bodies, hands roaming over the contours of their bodies, Once again he broke the kiss, only too look into her eyes, as if asking if she wanted it too, smiling shyly and nodding, he placed another kiss on her lips, wrapping his arms around her small frame, picking her up, and without breaking the kiss, he carried her too the bedroom, gently placing her on the bed, sharing a look of pure passion, ready to explore depths of each other, making their connection deeper. In that moment nothing else mattered, only the two of them, and the shadows dancing on the wall in heated passion, the soft glow of the moon shining in, making this night even more blissful…

@k-slla @jackles010378 @winchesterwild78 @angelbabyyy99 @bookishtheaterlover7 @cevansbaby-dove @cutedisneygrl

[library-of-crow]

The Hate in Your Heart

“First, I was like ‘wham bam,’ then, a little ‘whupssh,’ topped it off with a final ‘ding dong!’” Arly flailed her arms around in various eccentric movements, supposedly recreating her spellcasting from earlier that day. Ildan couldn’t help but chuckle and roll his eyes at his beloved’s behavior from his place on the bed. She wasn’t entirely wrong, Ildan could admit that, but there was something endearing about all the silly ways she recounted their battles with a flair for dramtics and clothed only in her small clothes. Whether it be in the privacy of a shared inn room, as it was now, or around the campfire with the others, Arly had no shame in putting on a show when she discussed their adventures. 

“Yes, yes, you did well.” He pushed himself up and crossed the room to stand in front of her. “But what about me? Hm?” His hand found her chin, tilting it back to make her look up at him. There was a fraction of a moment, he was sure she’d kiss him then, but just before their lips met-

“Well you did fantastic! All like ‘shhhing shing!’” He fell forward slightly as she pulled from his grasp and returned to her flailing about. He shut his eyes for a moment, sighing tiredly, before straightening up and busying himself with pulling back his hair. Arly turned back to him, hands planted firmly on her sides and feet spread in an overconfident pose. “Especially when you said ‘go to hell, ugly bastard,’ and stabbed that one creature.” She put on a deeper voice, and mimed the motion of dramatically stabbing a sword before her firm posture fell apart as giggles wracked her body. Ildan couldn’t help but chuckle with her. 

“I don’t think I said that. Are you embellishing these tales now?” He moved to sit on the trunk at the foot of the bed, face twisting for a moment as he irritated an old injury. Gods, was he getting old? Arly followed suit, standing in front of him with one of her hands finding his hair and the other finding his shoulder. “Perhaps you should be a bard. My sweet birdie sings such beautiful songs.” He joked, earning a singular ‘ha!’ from Arly, resting his hands gently on her waist.

“You know what, maybe I’ll become one. Maybe I missed my true calling as an entertainer!” Arly raised her hands up, one splayed dramatically across her chest and the other held high as if she was orating a scene. The moment they left his skin, Ildan longed for their return. “I’ll use my skills to spin spiteful words to my enemies and those I hate. I’ll use my power for evil and become the most dastardly-” She was sharply cut off as Ildan tugged her back into his space by the hem of her shirt. Only then did she realize she’d begun drifting away from him again. Arly couldn’t help but giggle, letting herself be pulled backwards into his lap where Ildan wasted no time trapping her in an embrace and peppering kisses to the side of her head. 

“I forbid you from becoming a bard, it will take you too far from me.” Ildan proclaimed, burying his nose in the crook of her neck. With her back pressed flush to his bare chest, Arly could feel the beat of his heart. She chuckled at his dramatics. “Besides, you would be a terrible evil bard. You have no hate in your heart for anything.” He added, words slightly muffled by her skin. At this, she abruptly sat up, the sudden motion being enough to free her from his embrace, and looked back at him with narrowed eyes. 

“What do you mean I have no hate in my heart?” She adjusted her place in his lap, hands settled on each of his shoulders while his arms held her around the waist. Ildan looked as though he was mulling over the words, trying to come up with a real reply. 

“Well, I’ve only ever seen you get upset when someone is mean to you first or does something to one of us. Even so, just last week you said that the ogre we fought ‘might have just been having a bad day.’” He brought up one hand to air quote what he remembered her saying before quickly returning it to her waist. “You wouldn’t even say you hated that one guy that beat the everloving shit out of me. I think you said he ‘wasn’t a nice man’ or something of the sort.” Ildan couldn’t help but laugh as he told the stories. Arly let out a ‘hmph,’ pouting and scrunching her eyebrows. Gods, she hates it when he’s right about things. 

“Oh yeah? Well, I hate plenty of things! I’m a total hater.”

“Oh?”

“Aye! I hate all kinds of things!” Arly declared proudly, thumping against her chest with a fist. By this point, she had again moved within his embrace, knees now straddling his lap to allow her to sit straight up and tower over him. Ildan’s hands ventured to rest against her hips, his thumb moving delicately over a small scar she had on her right one.

“Tell me then, sweet little birdie, what do you hate?” Ildan challenged, tilting his head back slightly to look up at her with a mischievous smirk spreading on his face. Arly looked back down at him, a smirk of her own mimicking his. Her hands moved to tangle in his hair, slowly moving her head down towards his forehead. 

“I hate ignorant people that genuinely think they know better than me when they clearly do not.” She paused, her forehead resting against his. “I hate muddy puddles that you can’t see until you’re stepping through them.” Her hands tugged at the hairs on the base of his neck, tilting him backwards just enough to hover her own mouth over his. 

“I hate the sunlight that pulls you out of our bed in the morning and takes you away from me.”

Ildan hummed a response, a smile resting on his face as he waited expectantly for her lips on his. As he waited, his eyes scanned her face, assessing every detail, connecting every freckle. Arly came exceptionally close but opted for a quick kiss to the side of his mouth instead before hurriedly trying to push out of his lap. Surprised, Ildan fruitlessly tried to catch her, hands desperately clawing to try and grab at her. His efforts were entirely in vain as she giggled and glided across the room. With a groan between light chuckles, Ildan pushed himself up and followed after her. Arly dodged a couple more attempts but her laughter doubled her over and made her easy prey for Ildan to sweep up from behind and drag her kicking, protesting figure over to the bed before easily tossing her into the sheets.

“Fine, then.” He relieved himself of his shirt, tossing it aside carelessly, and rested his knees against the side of the bed. Ildan crossed his arms across his chest, looking down at her with a wicked look. He was met with a cacophony of giggles and snorts. “Let’s change that. Let this be our last job.” 

Instantly, Arly’s face began to fall. She let out a couple more chuckles, as if desperate for him to respond with his own but Ildan’s face was still. He was serious. 

“Are you having a laugh now?” Her face twisted in confusion as she moved to prop herself up on her elbows. Ildan shook his head before stepping aside to drop down onto the bed next to her. Arly immediately clambered over, resting still on her elbow but leaning to look down at him. 

“I’m not.”

“You’re serious?”

“Completely.” A satisfied smile remained on his face as he stared back up at her. Again, he visually traced those freckles that littered her cheeks, seeking to memorize their unique spots. He noted the way the confusion continued to twist at her face, eyes darting around looking for the slightest hint of joking.

“What does that mean, Ildan?” Arly’s voice was low now. There was fear in her tone. She was afraid this was an elaborate joke, and it wasn’t a joke she was going to enjoy the punchline of. Hearing this small crack, Ildan propped himself up and reached one hand out to hold her face. 

“Birdie, we’ve been wanting to get married for years. Let’s do it. Get a little house out near your town, settle down, have some kids maybe.” Ildan ran his thumb over the curve of her cheek, watching the fear and confusion slip away with each word he spoke. “Would you like that?” 

Arly’s mouth opened and closed, searching for the best way to respond. Her mind pulled at strings, trying to think of some grand profession of love or poetic acceptance of his proposition. None came to mind. A clumsy nod and an awkward hum was all she could find. 

“I’m thinking three kids, two boys and a girl- wait, no-” He began pulling her into a closer embrace, placing her head against his chest to free up his arms for the purposes of waving them dramatically around above the two of them. “No, no, two girls, one boy. Feels right.” 

Arly was entranced by the way he painted this picture, especially as he continued on explaining the life they could lead together after this job. She offered the occasional hum of approval or simple ‘aye, of course’ when he paused but otherwise didn’t do much but listen with the biggest grin. It wasn’t just that he had finally mentioned settling down, or that he wanted to have children or whatever else. It was the fact that he’d clearly been thinking about these things for a long time. He explained their finances, how he’d set some coin aside over the course of their last few jobs for this moment. He knew the logistics of getting the two of them back to Nenia Fai in the easiest way possible. He swore he’d write a letter to his family after the job was done, attaching enough coin to get them to the wedding. 

Ildan rambled on, firing off plan after plan. Arly couldn’t take it anymore. In a flash, she flipped over and grabbed him by either side of his face before immediately crashing her lips onto his. Having been cut off from his long-winded speech, Ildan was surprised for a moment by the motion but quickly smiled against the kiss. They held there for a moment, Ildan’s hands finding her waist yet again and beginning to creep their way up before Arly once again suddenly interrupted him by quickly pulling away. Her hands continued to hold his face, slightly squishing his cheeks into his head. 

“You’re one hundred percent serious about this, right? Last job then home?”

“Arly Umbar, how many times are you going to ask me?”

“Can you say it one more time?”

Ildan sighed, the fond smile never once faltering. In return, he grabbed her face and squished her cheeks in the same way she did his. As light caught them, he noticed tears pricking at her eyes. I’ll never make you cry, he once promised, only tears you’d be happy to spill. 

“Arly Umbar, my sweet birdie, my most beautiful girl.” Between each name he placed a kiss on a different part of her face. “This will be our last job. Within the month, we’ll be married.” The final, punctuating kiss was pressed gently to her forehead, where he lingered an extra few seconds. His nose brushed her hairline, taking in the sweet smell of pine that always seemed to follow her. Her hands had fallen from his face by now, instead clasping together behind his neck.

As Arly’s eyes gently shut under his touch, a single tear fell down her cheek. For once, the future they’d only mused about in passing was about to come to light. A warmth spread through her chest and down to the tips of her fingers that she could only recognize as the utter bliss he provided her. The moment his lips left her forehead, she longed for the feeling of them against her skin again. His fingers found the bottom of her chin, tilting her head back as he kissed away the tear on her cheek and trailed the rest down her face and neck until he was buried in the crook of her neck yet again. Each kiss was a small fire that burned her skin, a burn she’d give anything to feel again and again.

“I hate that you stopped.” She finally said, her voice surprisingly cracking from how close she’d been to the brink of tears.

“Yes, yes, I’m told you hate a lot of things.”

[carlyraejepsans]

When he woke up again in the morning, it was to the chinking of ceramic at the breakfast table.

Papyrus also barged through the door with a loud greeting, bootin' his way into the house like a tornado about a second later. But it was the cutlery that woke him. Honest.

"Ah, hello Papyrus!"

"Good morning miss Toriel. Sans!!" his brother glared in his direction, crossing his arms over his chest, "Oh my god, did you fall asleep on the couch again?? Seriously! I can't leave you alone even a single night."

He snorted, "morning to you too, bro."

"Good morning!" Papyrus perked up, "You're still unbelievable."

Sans chuckled. He made to get up and—nope, okay, going back down. Turns out his neck really didn't want to, well. Turn. Not out, not up. Definitely not to his left.

Yeah, he had to give it to him there; he wasn't getting any younger.

...Something about neck pain, huh.

Eh. He should probably forget it.

"I hope I'm not too late to join you."

"Do not worry, my friend. You are just in time. I have already set your milk on the stove."

"Oh-ho, your foresight precedes you, as usual!"

"yeah. call that pre-mom-nition."

"Sigh... and he hasn't even left the sofa...!!"

When he finally sat down at the table, the kid was already digging into their grub. Something that might have been cereal just a few moments earlier, but looked more like paper marche with every stab of their spoon. They looked up from their improvised mortar and pestlè to give him a grin. He winked back. Bone appetite.

Toriel slid a plate of toasted bread under his face and he murmured his thanks.

"you got everything worked out last night?"

"Nyeheheh, I did! However! I'm afraid I shall have to break my fast... even faster than usual! Your handsome ambassador is still required elsewhere."

Frisk furrowed their brow. They let their spoon drop into their bowl to sign, "Is something wrong?"

"Of course not," his brother waved a hand in the air dismissively, "Just lots of meetings and talking no one really sees the point of, trying to get stuff approved. Seriously. I had fun doing daily reports to Undyne, but this is just ridiculous."

"yeah, they don't even let you supplex the other guy."

"They don't!! Human bureaucracy... I'll never understand it. What's that thing on your shirt."

…huh?

Papyrus pointed at him, "There! On your shoulder? sort of??"

He looked down at himself and—ah. Heh. Probably should've assumed something like that'd happen.

He shrugged. "dunno. ask Frisk. they were the one drooling on it."

The kid shoved another spoonful of cereal paste into their mouth and shrugged as well, "It was decent."

"oh?"

"I've had better. 6/10."

"woah. scalding critique. after ruining my outfit for today too… you're pretty ruthless."

Frisk snorted, then signed, "You were gonna change it anyway."

"why? it passed the smell test."

"It did nOt."

"yeah you're right. it passed the taste test though."

"Barely," Papyrus grumbled.

"Enough bickering, you three," Tori laughed to herself as she got up to put the milk in the fridge, "rest assured, if Sans here holds off on his cleaning routine any longer, I will take drastic measures."

Oh boy. "really. by hand or measuring tape?"

She looked over her shoulder. Talk about angelic smiles.

"The garden hose."

He didn't even have a chance to say "promise?" that bam, kid started kicking up a stink worthy of a shower too. How HE gets to play with the hose now and that's supposed to be fair? Where's justice gone off to die to, and so on. Tori laughed, saying something about how summer was ending and SOME people could stand getting blasted with water out in the cold without being sick for a month; all while rattling 'round the fridge.

Then she suddenly stopped.

When she turned around, she had The Face.

"Frisk," she said. She had The Voice, too. She narrowed her eyes, "I believed I had made myself clear. No human sweets after ten in the evening."

She held up the incriminating evidence.

Huh. Oh yeah, he'd seen that chocolate bar around before. Had been in the fridge since dog knew how long.

He was pretty sure it hadn't been bitten in half though.

The kid's eyes widened. "It wasn't me!", they gestured wildly in defence of their innocence.

Toriel's goare narrowed further.

Obviously she was out of the question. Paps too, since he'd left in time with an alibi. That only left two options.

The kid turned towards him. He looked back.

"who, me?" he said with a wink, "sorry, not a fan of that stuff. my sweet tooth fell out years ago"

Their face was… heh. Okay. Who knew pure betrayal could look that adorable.

"My child…" Toriel began again.

Aand yep. That was the time to tab out. He couldn't leave the kid thinking they'd been framed. Pranks were fun, but groundings aren't stuff to be trifled with. Besides, as much as his instincts were dying to let the matter fade into oblivion, he'd put a couple things together about last night.

"but, uh, personally I would lay off on time-outs this time," he jumped in, parrying Tori's scolding glare with a wink, "as it turns out. Seems like we've got a sleepwalker in the house."

She blinked at him.

"Is that so?"

"Yup."

He laid back in his chair and shoved his hands in his—right, no pockets. Oh well.

Looking back at the kid, their face was carefully blank.

"woke up tonight when they face-planted off the couch. they got as far as the fridge and then came back, but they were uh, clearly out of it. i didn't try to stop em in case they did something funny."

"...Sleepwalking," the kid repeated.

"Hey, I used to do that too! Sans had to get me off the roof once."

Even Tori had to concede after watching their back-n-forth, "Well, I suppose I can see your reasoning. Sleepwalking can make for very entertaining stories."

Yep. There it was. He threw her a wink; ever a woman after his heart.

"gotta be honest, though. the special effects were a surprise. do all humans have glow-in-the-dark eyes or didja snatch a special edition somewhere?"

He threw a glance to the side at the kid, but they weren't looking at him. They looked, well, pensive.

…Tori too. She blinked. He couldn't help noticing her eyelids fluttering closed for just a second too long.

"It is not unprecedented, no."

Right. He really oughta try his best not to send her down memory lane.

Frisk looked up at him again and… yeah. Okay. He forgot that too sometimes. The kid had a gift just for unnerving him.

"Did I say anything strange?"

Sans looked at them. Maybe, he thought, he shouldn't have worked himself up over the red eyes thing. Not when the kid looked like they'd had a staring contest with King Midas on a normal day.

"Actually… you did."

It was something with the way they held themself. He couldn't explain it any other way.

He leaned in. The kid leaned in too. Even his brother and Tori gathered just that much closer.

"Well????" Papyrus actually whispered.

He smiled.

"I'm the greatest booger eater."

A loud snort broke the silence. Tori looked guilty around the room.

"Forgive me, I was not expecting that."

Then the groaning began.

…He'd changed his mind. THIS was his favorite moodsetter.

Amidst his brother's theatrics, Frisk scrunched their nose up at him.

"Secret secret password?"

"of course not," he said, "that would be extremely childish."

Papyrus stood up first.

"Well, I'll be off then. I won't be running late to entertain my brother's shenanigans."

"Can I come with?" the kid piped up. Something in their face still held something serious in it.

His brother hesitated, "W-Well."

"Just to the edge of the woods," they went on, "There's someone that I want to see again."

"My child, are you sure you—" Tori began, but the kid shook their head.

"I already know the way back. It's just to make the trip easier. I'll be home for dinner. Promised."

"sounds to me like you're just itching to hitch a ride on a cool car."

They stuck their tongue out at him. Rascal.

"Humm! Well, if miss Toriel doesn't object, there is in fact a very cool car we need to take right now!! Nyeheheh, quickly, on board!"

Frisk climbed onto his brother's back. Barely a second later, they were already out the door, hooting and cheering like goofballs.

Heh. Talk about their average monday.

He'd have cracked another joke, but he noticed Tori staring into space again. Chocolate bar in her hands. Mind away and away.

But he wouldn't have needed to see her to tell. After all, they'd talked in silences for so long, he would've know she was in a reminiscence spiral with his hands in his pockets, and a door behind his back.

Still, there were things a door didn't let you do.

He reached out to put a hand over one of hers. They were big enough that he could cover only a few digits, but hey. It was the thought that counted.

"you good?"

She smiled at him and squeezed his hand back.

"I am. Thank you, my friend."

"don't sweat it. looks like you're gonna need to make a sugar stash against the kid."

"Yes. I was considering my possibilities, in fact."

He grinned. "my vote's on the electricity panel."

"The… electricity panel?"

"yeah. it's already choc full of the stuff."

"Leave."

Technically speaking, he was a light sleeper.

Which was just hilarious for two different reasons. One, he topped at twenty pounds soaking wet—and that was after he'd reached for the towel. The joke basically wrote itself. The other reason was, of course, that nobody believed him. Honestly, he could kinda get it. It's pretty hard for irony to escape him, even on a bad day. The way he saw it, though, maybe he wouldn't take as many naps as he did, if he just managed to get one to stick.

...heh, nah. Probably not. Late to rise, early to bed, makes a man lazy or clinically dead, or however the saying went. Still.

The kid stiffened against his ribcage and that was all it took for his eyes to fly open.

The popcorn ceiling of the living room stared back at him through the darkness in all its tacky glory. Now that's another joke that writes itself. It wasn't a movie night at Tori's without some comment about her taste in decor. That always earned him a round of groans. Or a halfhearted pillow to the head. It was one of his favorite moodsetters.

His hand dangled in the air at his side. Not on the floor. Just a few months earlier, that alone would've told him he wasn't in his room, but oh boy, had things changed. He had a bedframe now, not to mention enough self respect for one. AND fitted sheets—that was a lifetime first. You had to be careful not to fall off, but all things considered, it was the fanciest bed he'd slept on since he'd tried using his worker bonus at MTT's. If he risked falling off the bed now, he'd risked never finding his way out then. Not to mention the guy in the other room calling for room service the entire night. He almost retired the midnight snacks bit on Undyne out of sympathy the next time she came over.

Almost.

The kid's head twitched.

Right. Popcorn. Living room. Springy mattress. He didn't need to smoke a pipe to realize he'd fallen asleep on the sofa. Didn't need a goofy hat either to see that someone must've thought he'd make a good pillow. Go figure. He'd gotten real good at making himself look softer under his clothes, but still, it wasn't exactly the kind of magic a guy could keep up with his eyes closed and a pillow behind his head. He just hoped they weren't too uncomfortable.

He must've dozed off sometime after Papyrus left the house and Toriel turned in for the night, 'cause nobody had stopped by to throw a blanket over him. Most nights that would've been fine. Nice thought aside, skeletons didn't really feel cold "to their bones", on account of lacking all the soft and fleshy stuff on top of 'em.

Yeah, well. Most nights. Most nights he didn't have a human kid sleeping on top of him, either.

Sans looked down. He resisted the urge to blow a strand of hair out of their face.

Most nights, skeletons didn't have hearts beating against their ribs.

Ba-dum—ba-dum—ba-dum.

He would've asked them if it felt any different, having it beat on the other side of their ribcage, if they hadn't already crawled their way inside his months before.

Heh. Not like they hadn't done the same with everyone else. Or ever asked for permission, the little freeloader. But he supposed that part came free with being monsters. The whole HOPE and compassion and everything nice kinda shtick. As a rule, they were, uh, very prone to attachment. It was hardwired into their SOULs or something. Of course, he knew better than anyone that compassion had its cost, and he'd ran low on HOPE for a long, long while, but...

There was a ray of light coming through the kitchen at night like he hadn't seen in an even longer time. The kind with a moon and stars hung at the other end of it.

Yeah. Maybe he could afford something nice for once.

Frisk stirred again. He kept as still as possible as they wriggled around, pushing themself off of him—trying, he assumed, not to shove their boney little knees somewhere unpleasant.

Then they flopped to their side and fell to the floor with a thud.

See, THAT'S the kinda issue you don't have when you have no self respect.

Slowly, the kid got to their feet again. They stood perfectly straight for a moment, then took an unsteady step forward. Then another.

To call it "walking" would've been an act of mercy. It was more of an ambling. Maybe a shambling. Sans watched their journey towards the kitchen mentally listing of adverbs. Stumbling. Fumbling. Trailing. That one didn't have a mbl in it, points for originality.

Mostly, he was ecstatic. Nothing made for fun breakfast stories quite like sleepwalking. And well, he hadn't had one of those since Papyrus turned fifteen and stopped sleeping entirely.

When the kid finally reached the fridge, they all but shoved their head inside it. He heard them do... something in there. There were definitely teeth involved. He was about to ask them to bring some goods back to homebase.

The door of the fridge clicked closed.

He didn't.

Then, he almost made a joke about forgetting their headlights on, but thought otherwise. He was glad he'd left his own off.

Besides, it was the taillights that were supposed to glow red.

Eyesockets dark and still pretending to sleep, he kept watch as the kid turned around and retraced their shambling steps to the living room like a miniature zombie.

Halfway to the sofa, they stopped, making a small sound like a grumbling of annoyance. For a second their eyes grew even more unfocused.

"Sleep," they rasped out in a low, halting whisper, "I saved you a crick in the neck."

It took him a second to register that the kid wasn't talking to him. Mostly 'cause Frisk didn't speak. To him. Or ever.

By the time they reached their starting point again, his excitement had died off into quiet confusion and quickly curdled into caution. They stopped at the edge of the sofa and fixed him with a stare, looking at where they'd been sleeping before. Sans waited.

"I am not doing that," they rasped to themself again.

Then they climbed onto the other end of the sofa and curled around themself as small as possible. So tightly it looked like they wanted to tuck their tiny body into a ball.

When they stopped moving, they didn't move again.

Sans didn't lift a finger. His brain whirred in his skull, ready to chalk up the past few minutes to the sleepwalking and forget they ever happened. Staring up at the popcorn ceiling again, though, he couldn't shake off a wave of uneasiness; like he'd seen something he wasn't quite supposed to put together.

Any man would've spent the night awake.

He cast a glance at the kid, huddled in their corner. There was no heartbeat against his ribs now: something about the silence felt foreboding.

Sans closed his eyes.

Ten minutes later, of course, he was out like a light.

[casspurrjoybell-29]

Forging Ties - Chapter 15 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Hamish lay in bed and held the egg up above himself with both hands.

"What if it's a human baby? Or, well, not a human baby exactly but something like it. I've been joking but that would be... a lot."

Duran leant his face against Hamish's shoulder and watched the egg sparkle in the light given off by his mage-light.

"Are you reconsidering your choices?"

"Well, no," Hamish said. "If it is something like that and it would have died without someone to keep it warm or take care of it properly when it hatched, I don't regret taking it. I couldn't. Sure would complicate things, though."

"There's always adoption," Slone pointed out.

Hamish laughed.

"Good point. I'll just give it to Simon and Danya. They're good at adopting children."

There was a rattling at the window and Duran looked up to see Skye's face pressed against the glass.

He got up to open it.

Hamish sat up in bed as Skye climbed in to perch on the windowsill.

"Did you bring my sweet potato back?"

"No, I threw it into the ocean," Skye said before turning his attention back to Duran.

"Can I borrow your knife?"

"My... knife," Duran repeated.

"Why?"

Duran had expected Skye to either ignore the question entirely or answer in a way that raised more questions than it answered, so he was surprised when Skye drew a deep breath in and actually gave a cogent response.

"A girl followed that man you were talking to earlier back to his ship and then I heard her scream. I want to go and check on her but I need a weapon just in case."

The entire tone in the room had instantly shifted.

Hamish got up and grabbed his shirt.

"I'll lend you a knife but we're going with you."

"Oh, okay," Skye said. "I'm sorry I threw your sweet potato in the ocean."

"Are you sorry you stole it?" Hamish asked as he sat on the edge of the bed to put his boots on.

"No."

"Fair enough. I would have given it to you if you'd asked, you know."

"It was too hard to eat. Give me something better."

Hamish let out a quiet laugh.

"Okay. Once we make sure this girl is okay, we'll get you some food."

They finished getting dressed, except for Slone who left his shirt and shoes off.

Skye then dropped down from the window onto the street below, landing silently and left the rest of them to take the stairs.

He was waiting for them outside, lurking in the shadows.

They followed as he led the way down to the docks.

As they walked, Hamish had given Skye a knife and Skye practised making stabbing and slashing motions with it.

While he clearly had the potential to be dangerous with it, it remained to be seen if that danger would be directed solely at Declan.

They reached the ship that Skye had led them to and there was a ramp placed down from the side of the ship, making it easy to board.

The four of them had just made it onto the ship when Declan climbed up from below deck.

"Oh," Declan exclaimed upon seeing them. "Duran, this is a surprise. When I invited you to come and fix the sails, I didn't expect you to bring all of your friends with you."

Skye had already begun to wander towards the gap in the deck that led below but Declan stepped in his path.

"I'm not here about that, I'm afraid," Duran said. "Skye said you brought a girl on board and he heard her scream."

"Skye?" Declan asked.

Duran nodded at Skye.

"Oh," Declan said as he shot an unimpressed glance in Skye's direction.

"Well, I suppose that did happen. I brought a homeless girl back here to give her some clothes and she made a bit of noise when she tripped on the stairs but that was all. Let's be honest, Skye, she was hardly screaming her head off, now was she?"

Skye didn't even look at Declan.

He was busy playing with the knife.

"Could we talk to her for a minute and make sure she's okay?" Hamish asked. "Just for our peace of mind."

"She's not here anymore," Declan said. "As I said, I was only giving her some clothes. People might get the wrong idea if she hung around for too long."

"He was pretty worried something wasn't right," Hamish said.

"Look at him," Declan said, gesturing to Skye, who had accidentally or possibly intentionally cut a hole in his shirt while playing with the knife and was now wiggling his finger though it.

"I'm sure he has nothing but good intentions but he doesn't have much going on upstairs, does... uh?"

As Declan spoke, Slone had begun to strip out of his pants so casually that Declan hadn't even noticed until they were mostly off.

He tossed them aside, got down on all fours and shifted.

"A werewolf," Declan said as Slone started sniffing around. "I'm becoming very uncomfortable with this situation. I think it's time for all of you to leave. You have to realise that you came with next to no justification."

Slone ignored him and moved towards the hole in the deck.

When Declan tried to block his path, Slone effortlessly shoved him aside and kept sniffing.

"Relax," Hamish told him. "We just want to have a quick look around and make sure nothing weird is going on and then we'll be out of your hair."

"I'm asking you to leave," Declan said. "If you don't, it's trespassing."

"Oop," Hamish said as Slone tipped face first down the hole that led below deck, stumbling on the stairs until his whole body was through. "Hold that thought."

As Hamish followed Slone below deck, Declan hesitated for a moment and then quickly started making his way towards the ramp that led off the ship.

"I think you should stay here," Duran said as he stepped to the side to block Declan's path.

Declan pressed his lips together.

"Let me pass."

Duran watched as Skye crept up behind Declan, fiddling with the knife.

"No," Duran said.

Duran summoned a ball of mage-light and let it hover in front of his hand as he raised it above his head, wielding it like a weapon in the hopes that Declan would think it was one.

Skye's eyes caught on it and the knife he'd been holding clattered to the ground.

As Declan lunged, Duran reached for his own knife but he knew he wouldn't be fast enough.

Skye grabbed Declan by the back of his shirt, shoved him forward and before Duran could process what was happening, Declan was struggling on the floor of the deck and Skye was sitting on his back, pinning his arms down with his hands.

Duran stepped forward and kicked Declan's hand until he let go of the knife.

Duran picked up Declan's knife.

"Mine now."

Hamish's head poked up from below deck.

"Fuck. Everyone okay?"

Duran nodded.

"Skye saved my life again. No big deal."

Skye gave them a smile.

Declan was struggling beneath him but he seemed to be having no trouble keeping him pinned.

"I've discovered that stabbing people is a difficult thing to make yourself do."

"Looks like you found a less messy way to resolve the situation, anyway," Hamish said. "How are you so strong?"

Skye shrugged.

"Uh, guys," Slone called out from below deck. "Might need some help with this."

As Hamish disappeared back below deck, Duran hesitated.

He turned to Skye.

"Do you think you can keep him held down?"

Skye nodded, his gaze wandering.

He looked like boredom was a bigger challenge to him than Declan's struggling.

Duran headed over to the hole in the deck and made his way down steps that were at such a sharp angle he had to go down backwards like they were a ladder.

Duran let his mage-light guide the way down a narrow corridor and at the end, he found Hamish and a very naked Slone standing in front of a door.

"I smell people inside," Slone explained as Duran approached. "Door's locked but I reckon I can bust it down."

Hamish stepped back.

"Do it."

Slone turned his body and rammed his shoulder against the door.

There was a loud crack as it burst open.

"Oh, hey," Slone said as he saw whatever was inside, then sent a quick glance down at his large and very naked body.

As he stepped aside to let Hamish through, Duran approached and peered inside.

Four people sat on a bench that ran along the far wall, their wrists attached to it with chains.

Duran stared at them in shock.

"That bastard was planning on trafficking me, wasn't he?"

[darkmoonslayer]

Hidden in the Shadows- Avengers Part 1

Willow hid in the shadows, her tattered white dress was her only clothing against the winter air in New York. She pulled her wings around her, sharp stabbing pain pulled at her shoulder blades. It’s 5 in the morning and dawn quickly coming.

The fresh stitches tugged at her skin. She focuses on her hands and try’s to summon her fire. But her weakness betrayed her. Her hands continue to shake as the chilly air blew across her face.

Her eyes swollen from he beaten she had gotten a day earlier.

Willow was 12 when her parents were killed in-front of her. That night she was taken by HYDRA, A terrorist organization. She was thrown into a concrete cell where she live the past 8 years. Willow had endeared thousands of beatings, and many experiments. She was made into a mutant. She hated he life, but when she had a small window of opportunity to escape. Only 5 minutes of being left alone, they were being attacked. In that moment of chaos she was able to slip past the guards.

Willow winced as two men walked down the alley way. Her shoulder mussels hurt as she pulls her wings closer, trying to protect herself.

Steve and Bucky walked down the streets, chatting about the last mission they were on. After getting a late dinner then walking home to the tower. The two super soldiers hear the whimpering in the corner. They could almost hear teeth chattering. They’re paused for a second at the same time. Looking at each other before walking slowly to see the small girl.

Large wings wrapped around the girl, they could see her black and blue face. Eyes swollen almost shut, small cuts littered her face. Willow stared at the two men.

‘They found me’ willow thought as her body shook in fear.

“Steve is that her, i thought they had moved her before we took them down.” Bucky asked.

Earlier that day the Avengers took down a HYDRA facility, the data they had gotten showed the experiment. Everyone had thought they moved her to another facility before they got there.

“Hey, my name is Steve. We are here to help” Steve says bending down to her level. Willows breathing sped up in panic.

“ Your making her nervous, let me try.” Bucky pulled Steve back softly.

“Hey, my names Bucky. HYDRA kidnapped you and hurt you right?” Bucky asked softly.

Hesitantly she nods.

“ look” buck says as he takes his jacket off exposing his metal arm. Bucky pulls his shirt up to expose his scars.

“They hurt me too. But I escaped. We just want to help you, and keep you safe. Would you like some help?” Bucky asks

Seeing his scars made willow more comfortable. She pauses before nodding her head. She didn’t know why but she felt like she could trust him.

“Tony you need to send a car to our location please” Steve had said into the phone. Bucky had taken off his jacket and slowly walked toward her slowly. Her body shrunk, her head lowered.

“Here, it’s warmer” Buck said holding it out for her to take. It takes her a couple of seconds for her to poke her shaking hand out of the wings that wrapped around her. She grabbed it and quickly pulled it to her body. Willow wrapped the jacked around her front. Warmth filled her as her body relaxes.

Its quite for a few seconds before a car pulls up behind the two super solders. The door opens and Tony steps out, his suit close by.

“Whats go…” Tony trails off as he notices the winged girl.

“Is that?… Damn, Okay lets get her back home where it’s safe.” Tony says.

“Ready to go?” Bucky asks Willow. She hesitantly nods and slowly stands up. She winces as the wings tug at her back. Tony gets in the car first. Then Willow slowly try’s to clime in. She whimpers as her wings drag behind her. Once she is sat down comfortably Bucky gets in then Steve.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Tony asks. Willow flinches back before nodding. Tony grabs a cold water bottle from a compartment and hands it to willow. She takes it and quickly chugs it. Her eyes close. Clean water was hard to come by in hydra. She was always given the dirty water. Small bugs, and it was always discolored.

It was quite throughout the drive to the tower. It was only a few minute drive. The car pulls into the parking lot under the tower. They drive up to the elevator door. Everyone makes there way out, as willow’s wings drag behind her the attached mussels pull making her back ache.

Everyone squeezes into the elevator. Everyone’s quite, as the elevator dings, Willow fallows everyone down the hall. Her arms around herself as she walked. A few minutes go by and they make it to the medical wing. Dr. Cho and Bruce are already in there. Bucky stops and turns to Willow.

“Okay, sweetheart we are going to have our doctors make sure your safe. I can see you are in pain so they can see whats going on to fix it okay?” Bucky asks.

Willow nods then slowly fallows Bucky into the room.

“Dr. Cho, Bruce. we found this girl she escaped from HYDRA and we need to make sure she is okay” Tony informs the two. They both nod and look to the winged girl who stands in the corner.

“Hey, we are going to do some scans then we can talk about whats going on okay?” Dr. Cho says smiling

Dr. Cho instructs Bucky to go make some food and bring another drink. After multiple scans and bloodwork being done. Bucky comes back in with the food and hands it to Willow. After Dr. Cho and Bruce talk for a little bit. They pull tony in the explain to him he needs to make a brace for her quickly. Tony quickly runs to his lab to whip something up quick.

“Whats your name?” Bucky ask as he sits beside her as the two doctors are talking

“W-Willow” Willow stutters

“Do you knwo how old you are?” Bucky asks

“I- I think around 20 maybe?” She questions herself.

After Dr Cho and Bruce agree on her recover plan the two walk over to Willow. Bucky sat beside her and Steve in the far corner.

“Okay, So your wings are connected to your shoulder blades and connected the nerves to her spinal cord. So we can’t remove them without permanently damaging your nerves. Since your wings are so fresh your mussels and nerves cant heal properly with them dragging behind you. So i am having Tony make a brace so you can heal them quicker” Bruce explains.

Willow nods.

“You are also very malnourished and you have some super soldier serum in you so we are going to have to make a eating schedule. I’m also going to give you some pain medication for a little while. Okay?” Bruce says

“Yes sir” Willow says lowering her head

“You don’t need to call me sir. Bruce is fine.” Bruce says

Thats when Tony comes into the room.

“Here you go” Tony says handing bruce a large metal and fabric brace.

“Okay so I’m going to put this on you” Bruce says Bruce puts the brace around the small of her back. he pulls the brace up and Velcro it around her shoulders and chest.

As soon as her wings were braced she sighed. The white stabbing pain disappears.

“Better?” Bruce asks as he notices the relief in her face.

Willow nods smiles slightly.

“Okay lets go get you cleaned up, then maybe we can get some food.” Bucky says willow nods and everyone flies out the door. Steve goes his own way down the hall. Bruce and Dr. Cho continue talking. Tony whispers the room thats available to Bucky. Bucky nods.

Tony, Bucky, and Willow gets into the elevator. Tony gets off on the floor his lab is on. Then its just Bucky and Willow. The two remain quite as the elevator opens to the floor. Willow fallows Bucky down the hallway. Stopping at a door he turns to Willow.

“This is your room. My room his right there” Bucky points to the door right next to Willows.

“Steve is across from mine.” Bucky says as he opens the door to Willows room. Bucky goes in first and grabs some shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and a towel.

“I’m going to see if i can get some clothes for you and put them on the bed for you. I will be in my bedroom once your done. Then we can get you something to eat. If you need me you can ask Friday to get me. Sounds good?” Bucky asks.

“Yes, Thank You” Willow says before Bucky walks out.

Willow grabs everything she needs and starts her shower. Making sure to scrub her hair and body as much as she can.

Meanwhile in the living-room Tony has Friday calls everyone. Once everyone, besides Bucky, is there tony starts to tell everyone that they had found Willow. That she had escaped and is now in their care. He also let everyone know that she had given her trust to Bucky and respect it. Everyone understood.

Willow steps out of the shower and dries off her body. She tries to pat dry her wings but she can’t. She drags her wet wings behind her as she goes to her bed. A small pile of cloths sat at the end of the bed. She puts on the underwear, sweats, the black tank top that had a low cut back. Almost perfect for her wings. She puts

“F-Friday?” Willow asks softly feeling kinda stupid.

“What can i do for you miss Willow?” A voice asks

“C-can you tell B-Bucky i need him?” She asks quietly.

“Yes miss Willow” Friday

“Oh and c-can you just call me W-Willow?” Willow asks.

“Yes willow. Anything you need i will be of assistance” Friday says

That’s when a knock at the door.

“Willow it’s me can i come in?” Bucky asks

“Y-Yes” Willow says softly.

Bucky walks in and smiles softly.

“What wrong?” He asks

“I can’t fry my wings. I don’t want to drip everywhere.” Willow blushes embarrassed.

“Okay don’t worry. Why don’t you sit down on the bed with your wings hanging over the bed I’ll dry them for you.” Bucky says as he grabs a fresh towel. Willow sits on the edge of the bed with her wings over the side. Bucky softly starts patting her wings. After a little while Willow giggles when Buckys light pats her a part of her wing

“What’s wrong? Did i hurt you?” Bucky asks concerned.

“No it tickles” Willow smiles softly as she blushes.

“Okay good” Bucky sighs in relief.

It takes another 15 minutes to pat her wings to mostly dry.

“Okay, i think that should be okay.” Bucky says standing up.

Willow stands up and fallows Bucky as he walks out. He waits for her to catch up with him and as soon as she’s besides him they walk together.

“How are you feeling?” Bucky asks as we get into the elevator

“I feel better now” willow says quietly.

The elevator opens to see some of the team, Steve was in the kitchen making some sandwiches for himself. Nat and Clint are sitting at the table with some cards laughing not paying attention to Willow.

Willow cautiously watches the two from the corner of her eye. The past 8 years she had only seen 5 people, all of them would hurt her in some way.

Just as Steve was finishes up Bucky and Willow make it to the kitchen. Bucky makes 3 sandwiches 1 and a half for the two of them. When Bucky was finished making the sandwich the two of them go over to the table. Steve now sat by Nat and was engaged in there conversation. Bucky sat down at the other end of the table with there food. Bucky had also grabs a bag of chips and two sodas. Willow turns her chair around so her chest rest against the back of the chair so her wings would have the room to cascade down her back. After sitting down the two began to eat in silence.

“My name Is Natasha, but you can call me Nat. This is Clint” Nat said to Willow.

“I-I’m W-Willow.” Willow quietly stutters as she blushes.

It goes quite again. Not knowing what to say Willow continues to eat. When she finishes the sandwiches and a handful of chips she is full. When Bucky is done the two go to the living-room.

“What do you want to watch?” Bucky asks turning the tv on. Willow shrugs her shoulders not sure.

“Have you seen Harry Potter. Its something i just found out i think it would be good” Bucky suggest.

“I haven’t, we can watch that if you want” Willow says. Bucky nods then tells Friday to put on the first movie.

Willow watches the movie very intrigued, feeling like a child again made her exited. often Bucky will sneak a quick look to Willow. He’s not sure why but a connection with her confuses him. He hadn’t even known her for 10 hours yet and still the two had a connection. 

They were half way through the movie when Wanda comes walking in. She smiles to Willow. Willow watches her as she sits down on the far end of the couch. Wanda senses her fear from afar.

“I’m Wanda, can i watch with you guys” Wanda says smiling to her.

“M-My name is W-Willow. You c-can stay” Willow stutters fear slowly fading.

Wanda nods and turns towards the tv. Willow commutes to watch, within the next 20 minutes Willow starts to nod off to sleep. Her head falling onto Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky doesn’t move, he lets her sleep, knowing she has had a long night.

[muffindaddystyles]

Soft dom harry makes subby reader upset subspace?

MEANIE ANGRY H :D BUCKLE UP FELLAS

Y/N's day is been shitty so far. It started with an ache in her lower abdomen from Harry’s morning stiffy bulging against her asscheeks fattening everytime he snuggled into her to hoard her warmth and blankies and to stuff his face in her neck with incoherent blabbering.

She wanted to wake him up with her hand, mouth, hole— anything around his cock and to please him and dull the burny feeling in her tummy -- but -- she had an important workshop at UNI that was must needed to be attended.

The time she managed to knock herself out of her needy and lusty headspace, she was getting late and whirling around the room and closest like a thunderstorm -- burying a snoring Harry under the heaps of clothes and littering the floor with her shoes collection, the kitchen got treated much more worst with maids being not around (she’s used to Harry waking up earlier than her and making her a full course brekkie) after making a laughable ruckus of cabinets all she stuffed her mouth with was a chocolate protein bar.

The stars were still not in her favour. She was grabbing onto her hair until far when she missed the bus (she usually don’t take buses, Harry makes sure the driver drop her off safe and secure) and it started raining leaving Y/N with nothing but a bare head to take all of it as she already left the bus shelter to stop a taxi.

If all of that wasn’t much of a tragedy and humiliating, Y/N slipped the moment she stepped out of the vehicle and on the slippery curbs of the building, she saw her life flashing right infront of her eyes as the papers tucked in her armpit fled everywhere and landed on the rainy mud sadistically along her. It gave her a serious hit in her ankle and completely yanked her hip, still being a stubborn-head she picked herself and went inside despite how many glares the cleaning staff threw her way for bringing the dirt with her feed all over the shiny floors.

She felt bad.

Stupidly bad.

Her workshop teachers were kind enough to accept her late arrival, but her designs for fall got rejected and they’d have been a huge milestone for her to get her dream internship.

Y/N felt awfully, teeny, pathetic and little while slumping into the corner of the bus and holding her breath to refrain from crying these little liquidy bitches out of her eyes.

Reaching back home she was met with pure chaos, bumping into petrified and agitated employs from Harry’s company scurrying out of their main foyer and she could persist but to ask what happened only to be informed in stammers that the staff messed up big and caused a loss of million dollars— making Harry terribly mad and fire people left and right.

It wasn’t a joke at all.

Because once, she steps inside, bag falling from her shoulder as she sighs in exhaustion feeling her muscles stiffening everywhere but one particular spot's hurting wrenchingly— her foggy mind couldn’t figure it out yet. She peeks into Harry’s home office to be met by a very annoyed, aggrieved, furious Harry pacing in his office all whilst with a phone against his ear shouting at someone who was destined to be humiliated today just like her and she pouts gingerly seeing his features skewered tightly into displeasure, the vein that curves along his temple prominent with blood pumping erratically in his body.

His head snaps up at the door’s creak and albeit his eyes softens a little, the kink of brows and the scowl on his lips is still there and he watches her paddle towards him carefully knowing anything at the moment would burst his chimneys out and she wants to be good for her daddy.

“Hi.” She speaks timidly, pout getting more rusty when the greetings not returned and instead he keeps all of his attention on the phone keeping a loose arm around her.

She grumbles, when he gestures down at her to give him a sec and untangles himself from her walking away and huffing and puffing into the phone.

How could he!

She feels so denied and rejected and kicked like it’s done to those affection starved lil puppies.

Her clingy tendencies flying high drunk and wooly. The needy beastie inside her wanting nothing more than take a bath where Harry could cream her back in her favourite berry bubbles, massaging her head and whisper sweet nothings into her ear, then lots and lots of cuddles, maybe he'll be generous enough and let her keep him snug inside her while they watch movie because she had such an awful day.

But, No! He's trying to escape free from her because she’s such a burden for him now.

Her eyes turns glassy, her shoulders slumping sadly and out of nowhere she’s feeling cold and barren as Harry’s voice becomes a wafting fume for her— an indication she has gone under too much.

“Daddy . . .” She stomps behind him, circling his footsteps like a whiny puppy and grapples at his dress shirt gasping sullenly when he swats her dainty hands away and glares down at her in dominance, his tone harsh as he blocks the receiver with his palm and mouths at her with a huff, “Stop being needy fo’ once. I’ve clearly some important issues to care for, Y/N.” Poor Y/N's deathly grip on his shirt loosens sorrowfully and her chin wobbles as she nodded still wanting to be good for him and if it wasn’t enough to give her the biggest heartbreak of the year— he even rolled his eyes at her too grumping under his breath about something how he turned her into a spoiled brat himself.

“Okie. . .” Her voice strangled and small. She shrinks into herself but wasn’t paid any heed from Harry and without another word she leaves him as to be it.

Having a huge breakdown in her room didn’t help at all. A painful headache hitting her like a train as she clumsily strips down, wearing one of his t-shirt heavily drenched in his scent he keeps for her under her pillow anytime she needs it and hides under the blankets with tears still running down her swollen cheeks— slipping into a light slumber from all of weariness and crying.

Once the smoke cleared from Harry’s mind and his capabilities of rational thinking coming back to him, he was reminded of how he denied his baby of his littlest of affection and tenderness when she clearly looked so glum and sad and upset.

He wanted to whip himself in head.

He’s such a twat that he let work come between them.

He curses himself. Making a sprint to his bedroom, knowing he’d find her none other than there and he was right puffing out a disheartened sigh when his eyes falls over his princess buried under all of these layers of blankets, he crawls up towards her carefully not to startle her awake.

Grunting at himself when he finds she’s been crying, he strokes a thumb up her blushy cheeks and her wet lashes, kissing her puffy eyelids and her little sad unhappy pout away.

He frowns. Feeling her feverish and flushed under his hand, “Hey puppy . . .” He thumbs down her throat getting a little fretful when she doesn’t stirs, however she’s such a squirmy little one and he moves the blankets away to let her body cool itself smiling proudly at his shirt swallowing her whole is when she snuggled herself more into her stuffie letting the shirt ride up her thighs and hips exposing a ghastly bruise of red and purples and he frowns not remembering it being there before.

Now. He feels shittier. Wanting to jump of the cliff for being a shitty sadist boyfriend to his only beloved.

“No!” Y/N whimpers loudly, squirming away from his touch as he examines her gently and it sent shockwaves to each of her tissues and lions causing her an undeniable pain.

“Puppy, shh, shh. ‘s just me, making sure if y'okay.” He scrambles closer to her towering her to cradle her face and kiss the tip of her nose—- his face falls drastically and his heart cracks miserly when Y/N pushes him away with a sorrowful mumble not even letting him wipe the drool away from the corner of her mouth as he usually does.

“’M okay . . .” She tries to knuckle the sleepiness away with shivery hands, “No you’re not —...” He’s cut off by her angry pout and her silly efforts to keep as much distance between them as possible, “I don’t need, Daddy . . ‘m big and I could take care of me self.” At her puny waver realization dawns upon Harry and his brows shoots up to his hairline feeling nauseous and terrible for not taking care of his babylove earlier.

He’d have never let her be away from him if he knew she was in her subspace.

“Y/N baby . . . I didn’t mean it, darling —--...” With gentleness he tries to approach her but she wraps her arms around her petite figure in a protective manner, haziness taking best of her and Harry’s chest suffocates into itself, being a dom it’s your responsibility to make your subby feel protected, loved and happy and he even failed at that.

He quickly cups both of her hot cheeks in his nippy palms when she hiccups sadly, a sob threatening to slip out, “Yes you did! You meant it. Said you spoiled me, I don’t want your money, promise! I just want you and y'shooed me away saying Y/N’s too needy . . .” Harry flinches at her words. He never even spared a thought to this negativity that she chooses to be with him for his money because he knows out of all the people she’s the only one who loves him out of the boundaries of status and money.

He realises how stabbing they'd have been to her when she was so sensitive and floaty wanting nothing more, just him.

How deep she has gone if she’s taking her own name in third person.

“’M sorry baby. So sorry. Swear on myself, didn’t mean to hurt my baby, knows tha’ work shouldn’t be an excuse t’ make y'feel unloved—- but those bastards got a tick outta me.” He rambles on frantically. Afraid she’ll think he’s lying and would finally make up her mind to leave him.

“You didn’t?” She asks with so much innocence Harry nearly cries out, “’Course I didn’t! How could I? You could never be needy, Bab. I love you so much and you’re my whole word, forgive me please?”

“You’re forgiven,” She let a small smile flutter up her features, a tinge of gleam in her previous dull eyes brightening the whole room and Harry immediately bunches her up in his lap.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks her, not sure if she still needs space from him and would rather be better without him but she bobs her head shyly and he chuckles softly before touching their lips together into a tender loving kiss and brushes their noses up and down murmuring sweetly coy to her.

“Now, could y'tell daddy how y'got this bruise baby? How did ya get hurt?” He coos, brushing her sweaty hair back and rubs her sweet gland behind her ear delicately, “Oh yeah . . . this, was raining and slipped.” She murmurs, hissing a gasp jolting away when Harry glides his fingers gently down her hip bone and fresh tears springs in her eyes as she buries herself in his chest, “Daddy hurts. . .” . “Oh babypie. Daddy’s g'na take care of his love.” He lays her down gently kissing her forehead when she whines for him to keep on holding her, “’M right here darling. G'na prep us a bath, make my baby alright.” Saying this he quickly disappears inside the washroom and next their room’s sursuring with marble tub filling with warm water, Harry throws in her favourite pink coloured bath bombs and rose essences and throws their towels in the warmer coming back with her as he left her to be, he has decided he’s gonna love on her whole night, “My baby’s the best, ain’t she? She’s my bestest girl.” He coos down at her sweetly and slides his forearms under her knees and back picking her up carefully and brings her to his chest securely.

She closes her eyes, biting down a whimper when Harry dips them in the water some it sloshing down the edges of bathtub and it envelopes them and gives a stingy feeling to her bruise before soothing it down.

He rubs her arms, and circles smoothing patterns on her tummy and kisses her a gallons as she melts in his embrace and he let’s her sink into him more, nibbling and sponging wet ticklish kisses on her neck making her purr and become a puddle of softness in his hold while she takes her time to mumble all the bad events that happened to her and he felt so guilty of not asking her how she’s and how her day went when she came to him, in need of some of his lovin.

“I love you so much, bab.” He suckles her earlobe, toying and plucking her bottom plush lip, “Was prick to me love —.. you deserve all my lovin,” He noses at her jaw, not forgetting it to mark it with his pecks and sloppy bites.

“’S okay daddy, y'had a bad day too.” He’s grateful to have her in his life. She cares about him, maybe more than he does for her and he feels himself lucky for it.

“You want me to help you relax?”

“Can I have you?” Her tone bashfully desperate and coy, Harry meanders their fingers together and kisses her knuckles softly.

Considering her wound still being sore and pulp, having sex would be painful for her and she might not grasp it in her hazy mind but Harry doesn’t want to hurt at all.

He plants a little noisy smooch to her shoulder when she nods, she mews and purrs when Harry glides his palm all the way down her body and cups her pussy digging his palm into her mound and coats his digits with her arousal dipping the pads of his fingers into her entrance, “All this wet f'me?” Palming her tits while whispering sweet nothings into her ear when she gasps and closes up on Harry scratching nails into his bended knees.

“Shh, shh puppy, jus' relax hmm? Feel yourself.” With sputtery inhales she does as he says, soon two of his fingers slips inside her and he strokes her pussy and pulls them out making her all whiny and pushes them back with a squelching noise, fucking her with it smiling and stopping when her thighs parts falls again his’s completely.

“Daddy!” She writhes and whines, trembly hands trying to bring Harry fingers back to her pulsating wetness, “You’re the cutest.” He smiles against her lips giving her cheeks several squishes and pats her head loving to see his adorable princess all flustery for him.

On her demands. He slicks his fingers back inside her and caresses the insides of her thighs while she pants and sinks onto his knuckles blabbering out daddydaddydaddy weepily.

“Cum fo’ me, puppy. Feels good? Yeah? My baby feels nice?” He rasps in her mouth, curving and petting the soft spot inside her pussy and sucks onto her upper lip when she moans and mewls loudly gushing all over his finger and he keeps on fucking her till she’s all sleepy and balmy against his chest.

Harry coaxes her tenderly, smoothing his hands all over her twitchy spots and patches sloppy kisses all over her face that makes her all giggly and shy—- the amount of endorphins spiking high in her system.

“Love you so much, daddy.” She mushes puckering her lips into his throat.

“Love you too, pup.”