#this only slightly spicy but i promise there's nothing under the cut this was all i could handle

[saintlygames]

he went home to his watchmaker on his wedding night

[baby-beelzeburger]

♡Bad Luck Streak Pt. 2♡

❧ Summary: Walking home from the bar late one night, Y/n is attacked by a wanted arsonist who’s been on the run for weeks. But Deku isn’t the one to save them this time. At least, not from the attacker. But he might need to step in in other ways then just fighting crime in order to make his new friend feel better(and they might just do the same for him.)

❧ Warnings: Assault, blood, knives and descriptions of being cut, very lightly implied sexual assault, a few lightly suggestive comments(nothing super spicy but still)

❧ A/N: I must say, doing medical related research for this fic had me squirming. If I had to read one more description of blood squirting out of a wound I was going to die. I’m too squeamish for this shit and I hate blood.

❧ Word count: 7,815

Part One

Your dinner with Midoriya had gone splendidly, and you couldn't have been happier. While you had feared that your awkwardness about interacting with a hero would get in the way of having a good time, that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Once you had settled into a casual setting with Midoriya, it was like everything from the outside world melted away and it was just you and him. There was just something so soothing about him. Whether if it was because of his hero status, or if it was because his presence was just so calming by default, you weren't sure. But after only a few short moments of tension in your shoulders, you had been able to relax and find your words with great ease.

He had taken you to a nice Italian restaurant. You had protested at first, only because it was a bit out of your price range. But he had insisted that he'd pay for you. You told him you would only go there if you could pay for your next outing(so long as he wasn’t bothered by something considerably less extravagant.) Unbeknownst to you, he agreed to your deal only because it meant there was a promise for a next time with you. 

You got to know him a lot, he talked quite a bit. Not like you minded, of course. He had this passion in his voice when he spoke about the things he loved that was simply contagious. He had you leaning in, drinking in every single word of his stories as he spoke animatedly. 

Once he was done, however, he looked a little bashful. Had an old habit of speaking too much, he said. You assured him you didn't mind. You hadn't had this much fun in a while.

Still, he urged you to take your turn speaking. And so you chatted about your life. Your friends, your family, what you did for a living. And he listened just as intently as you had. Whether he was genuinely interested, or if he was just returning the favor, you didn't know. But it made you feel special either way.

"You know, I'm a pretty big fan of heroes, too," You said in reference to his large rant about all the influential heroes of his years, many of which included his friends, "I have been since I was a kid. Though, I must say, I was never too interested until I saw you."

His eyes widened a little. Your felt slightly uncomfortable under his gaze and considered whether or not you should continue. But in a quick spike of confidence, you did.

"You may not believe it, but the first time I ever saw you in action was when you had tried saving Dynamite from that sludge villain all those years ago. I was there in the crowd when it happened."

Midoriya blinked, stunned by this new information. 

"Imagine the pleasant surprise I felt when I saw you on TV during the UA sports festival. I was honestly really excited. I rooted for you the whole time. And after that... well, I guess you could say I had a new appreciation for heroes."

Midoriya was speechless. For a moment, you wondered if you had said to much. You would feel awful if you made him feel weird. 

You were opening your mouth to apologize when Midoriya looked up at you, eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

"W-whoa, Midoriya. Are you crying?"

He let out a half-hearted laugh, rubbing his sleeve against his eyes. 

"Yeah, sorry. That's an old habit too."

"Are you okay? I-I’m sorry if I said something wrong I-"

"No, its nothing like that."

He pulled his sleeve away from his eyes. The skin around them was now pink from irritation.

"Thank you for saying that, Y/n. It’s just that... that means a lot to me."

That was a little over a month ago. Unfortunately, you had only gone out with  him one time after that, a lunch break at a much less fancy café that you really enjoyed going to. Luckily, he seemed to enjoy himself. He just had such an unpredictable schedule that it was hard to go on regular outings. You didn't mind. Any time you got to spend with the man you'd began to consider a friend was good enough for you.

That didn't stop you from texting him constantly, however. Whenever you were both free, your eyes were glued to your phone screen, immersed in whatever conversational topic you could think of at the time. Thinking back on it now, it was funny how hesitant you were at first over the idea of trying to get in contact with someone as busy as him. Now, it came as second nature to you. 

Currently, you were awaiting a text from him. A few weeks into your friendship, you made him start texting you whenever he got home from work so that you knew he got back safe. Sometimes he would forget, way too exhausted to even remember his own name. You understood, of course, but that didn't stop you from being anxious until you heard from him the next morning.

You yourself had just left the bar, where you had been spending time with a few of your friends, and were walking home. In retrospect, you probably should have called a cab or something. it wasn't exactly safe walking home alone at this hour. But you assured your friends that it wouldn't be a big deal as you sauntered out. You should have known better.

The man appeared as if from of nowhere. He surged out from the alleyway you were passing and grabbed your arm, pulling you into the dark. You only had a short moment to scream before your mouth was covered by a large hand. You struggled against your captor. He growled and pulled you tighter against him.

"Shut up and stay still if you know what's good for you."

You continued to thrash against him anyway. He unsheathed a knife hanging from his belt and pressed it against your forearm, searing it into your skin. It didn't feel like it went in too deep, just slicing the surface. It was a warning, not an intent to really harm. You hissed at the pain and tears welled up in the corners of your eyes.

"I said stay. Still."

You growled in frustration and brought your teeth down onto the man's hand. He yelled out in pain. His grip on you slackened and you leaned back, elbowing him in the stomach. It winded him for just long enough that you could make a break for it.

You screamed for help as you bolted down the side walk. You heard the man start to chase after you, screaming profanities. You didn't dare look over your shoulder.

It was then, as you were running, the chilled night air rushing past your face, that you noticed the smoke a few blocks down rising into the night sky.

What on earth is going on?

You continued running towards the smoke, crying out for help, hoping that there would be someone there to help you. Heroes, police officers, fire fighters, anyone. Your attacker was only a few steps behind you at this point. You were screwed if he caught you again.

Just as you shut your eyes tight, accepting whatever fate was about to befall you, a pair of strong arms swooped you up and dashed away. You wondered if  Deku had somehow heard your cries from wherever in Musutafu he was right now and came to your rescue. Your heart jolted, hoping to see the familiar green suit of the hero you'd grown so fond of when you opened your eyes. Your eyelids fluttered open but instead of green, you were met with black and pink. Your eyes trailed up and met kind brown ones. Not Deku, but...

"Uravity," You breathed. 

You didn't mind too much. Any help was good, and you were grateful that she had shown up when she did.

"Take them back to the fire. I'll take care of this bastard," A gravely voice spat. You looked up to see Dynamite, his palms flaring with explosions. 

From where you sat in Uravity’s arms, you could get a look at your attacker. He was a rugged looking middle aged man, at least fifteen years your senior. He had a large scar going from the bridge of his nose through the left side of his face. He was actually quite scrawny, a lot more so then you would’ve thought a man bold enough to attack an unsuspecting bystander in the middle of the night would be. 

He wasn’t so tough, now, though. In fact, he looked downright terrified as he faced Dynamite. You knew he should be, as well. The explosive hero didn't go easy on anybody. The man tried to act strong as fire enveloped his hands, but you could see in his eyes that he was scared for his life.

You didn't get to see the end of the confrontation as Uravity turned and ran. You were grateful. You weren't sure you wanted to watch Dynamite beat up someone, even if they had attacked you. You were sure the aftermath wouldn't be pretty.

"Thank you," You let out a sigh of relief, curling into the woman's protective body. She smiled down at you.

"No need for that! I'm just glad we got there in time. We heard your screaming from the fire and came out to investigate."

Just as she said that, she turned the corner. There you saw it. An apartment complex by the looks of it, blazing. A crowd, most likely the inhabitants of said building, gathered around to watch their livelihoods burn. Your heart tore in two at the scene.

"What happened here?"

"We suspect foul play. Arson. And I think, thanks to you, we found the guy who did it." 

"Wait really?"

Uravity nodded, slowing her sprint to a light jog.

"The police have been looking for a man with a scar on his face like that for a while. There have been fires just like this all throughout Musutafu for a few weeks now."

Now that she mentioned it, you did see that on the news a few weeks ago. You grimaced.

"But why? And why would he want to attack me? Why didn't he just run?"

"I don't know, but hopefully Dynamite doesn't beat him up too badly and they'll be able to question him soon."

By now you had reached the crowd. She set you down gently on your feet. 

"Stay here, okay? I'll come back for you once the situation is resolved." 

You nodded, and she dashed off towards the building. 

The blazing fire made the night burn like a midday dessert. Even from your spot in the street you could feel it's heat radiating out towards you. You watched as heroes entered and exited the building, using their special talents to save the people inside in any way that they could. You were sure Uravity was inside now, using her anti gravity to help people from underneath fallen rubble.

Soon after she had left you alone, the police had shown up, followed shortly by the fire department. That's when you spotted Deku exiting the building. Ash was smeared across his cheek and various spots of his suit were singed. In his arms was a child clutched tightly to his chest, whom he spoke gently to as he brought him over to the ambulances. A woman broke free from the crowd with a cry and ran after them. She threw her arms around the child, crying, thanking Midoriya a million times for saving her baby.

You knew he saved people like this regularly, including your own life all those weeks ago. But seeing him in action, saving someone that wasn’t you, was something else. It really made you realize just what kind of impact Midoriya had on the world. This is the kind of difference that a man like him made in people's lives. You weren't sure if there was anything more admirable than that.

Dynamite arrived on scene at exactly that moment, your attacker unconscious in his arms. He looked disgusted to even be near the guy, let alone hold him. You didn't blame him.

"Oi! Deku!"

Midoriya looked up from the mother and her son at the sound of his name, and smiled when he saw the other hero. Midoriya rushed over, his hand clasping the other's bicep. You were close enough to hear their conversation as they passed by you, walking towards the police cars.

"Kacchan! Who's this?" Midoriya askd, gesturing to the man in Dynamite's arms.

"I think it's our arsonist. Pink cheeks and I found him attacking someone just over there," He said, gesturing with a flick of his chin in the direction that he came from.

"Attacking someone? Who?"

Dynamite stopped, eyes scanning the crowd for you. You stepped a little more into the open, and the movement caught his attention.

"Them," He said once he spotted you. Midoriya followed his gaze. You could hear the quiet gasp that fell from his lips when he saw you.

"Y/n!?" He exclaimed, breaking away from his fellow hero to make a beeline towards you. Dynamite watched the scene for a second before he shrugged and continued his way towards the police.

"Midoriya..."

You never thought you'd be so relieved to see him. Even if you weren't exactly in danger anymore, his calming aura was exactly what you needed right now.

"Or... should I call you Deku since you're on duty right now?"

"Midoriya is fine," He said off handedly. It didn't seem he was paying your words much attention. Instead he was focused on examining every inch of your body, making sure that you weren't injured. When he spotted the cut on your arm, still slowly oozing blood, he sucked in a quick breath through his teeth.

"Come on, we should get that cut checked out. It looks nasty."

Your eyes drifted over to the collection of ambulances on the street and frowned. All those poor people that were sitting in gurneys. All those people that got caught in the fire. Surely they needed the attention more than you, right?

"No, I'll be okay," You said, bringing your hand to the cut in an attempt to stop the bleeding, effectively smearing the blood all over your palm, "I can take care of it once I get home."

The way Midoriya looked at you, it was almost like he could tell what you were thinking. You weren't sure if you liked being read so easily, but it was easy to see that he had a talent for it.

"Y/n, that's not smart. What if it needs stitches?" 

You shook your head, steadfast in your denial. After all, you were certain that it wasn't that bad of an injury and others needed medical attention more urgently than you. He was just worrying too much.

"It didn't feel like the knife went in that deep. Really, it- it's just a scratch!" 

Well, maybe that was an understatement. You just wanted him to stop worrying. With a heavy sigh and slumped shoulders, he relented, though not entirely.

"Fine, but I would like to take a look at myself, if you would let me. Just to make sure."

"You know first aid?"

"Yeah. They teach it at U.A. It's a useful thing for someone like me to know." He popped open one of the red pouches at his hip and pulled out a small handkerchief.

"If the wound isn’t too deep this'll help stop the bleeding until I can take proper care of it. Do you mind?" He asked, gesturing to your arm. 

You let go of the wound and held it up for him. He folded the handkerchief a couple times and pressed it to the wound. His other hand gently held the other side of your arm, supporting it for you. Something about the way his hands held you like you were the most delicate flower made your heart flutter. 

Suddenly Uravity pushed through the crowd, apologizing as she cut her way through.

"There you are, Deku!" She said, as if she hadn't seen his tall physique standing out over the crowd, "It seems like we got everyone. Now that the fire fighters are here, they'll be able to get the situation under control. We should be allowed to go now."

Midoriya nodded. He gently took your hand and replaced his grip on the handkerchief with yours. Then he pulled away, turning to face Uravity fully.

"Sure. I'd like to talk to Kacchan about the suspect, then I'm going to walk them home," He turned to you with his signature bright smile, "If that's alright?"

You nodded. You didn't really feel like walking home alone anymore.

Uravity turned to you, maybe just noticing exactly who you were, and smiled.

"Oh it's you! I didn't realize you two knew each other."

"Ocha, this is Y/n. Y/n, Ochako Uraraka." 

Uravity gasped, both of her hands coming up to cover her mouth. Something clearly shocked her. Did you do something? Did you have something on your face?

"Oh! You're Y/n! Wow! It's so nice to finally meet you. Deku talks so much abou-" 

Suddenly, Midoriya started coughing beside you. The both of you drew your attention to him, thinking something was wrong. He had just been in that burning building, after all. With all that smoke...

But then, just as your anxiety started to spike, you noticed the scowl on his face directed at Uravity. That pointed gaze didn't look in pain or uncomfortable at all, it looked annoyed.

Uravity seemed to catch on, her face turning red.

"O-Oh! I mean, um.... anyway! You said you wanted to go talk to Bakugou, Deku?"

"Oh, yeah. Would you stay with them while I go-"

"Hey, moron," That familiar gravely tone said, cutting through your conversation. Dynamite himself stepped out behind Midoriya, joining your small group.

"Speak of the devil," Midoriya muttered under his breath. You could practically see Dynamite's skin pricking at the comment. 

"What'd you say, Deku?" 

"Nothing, Kacchan."

Dynamite scoffed, but you could tell he was biting back a quip. Instead, in an attempt to change the subject no doubt, he turned to you. 

"So who is this, anyway?"

No flowery words with this guy, huh? Blunt as ever. 

Uravity seemed to grin from ear to ear she grabbed your arm and pulled herself close to you. 

"Bakugou, this is Y/n."

"Huh? Like, The Y/n?"

That sent a shock through your body. Have you become some sort of popular household name for the people in Midoriya’s friend group? Not at all like you minded or anything, it was just jarring. What was so special about you that had him speaking so much of you? And by the sounds of it, so highly as well. 

Uravity nodded excitedly. Dynamite turned to you, a grin on his face as he laughed through his next words. 

"Holy shit! This idiot never stops fucking talking ab-"

Midoriya elbowed him in the ribs. Hard. 

"OW! What the hell, Deku!?"

"Sorry, Kacchan," He said with a grin that just screamed that he wasn't sorry at all, "My elbow slipped."

"What does that even mean!? Are you stupid? Did you inhale too much smoke inside that building?"

In an instant the two became absorbed in a raging argument. 

"Should we... do something?" You asked Uravity, who was still close to your side. 

She laughed. Actually laughed. You were worried that the situation would escalate until they were blowing up the entire block in their rage, and she just laughed. 

"Oh, don't worry! They'll simmer down soon. They just get like this from time to time."

She must've seen this happen a lot for her to be so desensitized. 

"Have they always been like this?"

"Mm, not always. Deku used to never fight back. Not until a little while of studying at U.A." 

You eyed them as Dynamite took a handful of Midoriya's hero suit in his fist, pulling him close so he could get in his face. They were still shouting at each other. You glanced around at the dispersing crowd around you. Some of the civilians looked disturbed by the outbreak, but the nearby police officers didn't even flinch. Like they were used to this too. You looked back at Uravity.

"But they are friends, right?"

"More like brothers!"

What a perplexing relationship these two have.

Uravity was right though. Eventually the two did simmer down until Dynamite was grumbling angrily to himself and Midoriya was smiling in triumph. You weren't sure how, but they must have both agreed that Midoriya had won this nonsensical battle.

"Anyway, Kacchan, I wanted to talk to you about the suspect that attacked Y/n."

Dynamite grumbled in response, open to a conversation but still bitter about losing.

"You're sure he's the right guy?"

"Positive. He had the same weird scar on his face that the witness said they saw last week. Plus, he has a fire quirk. He must be the guy."

Midoriya hummed, bottom lip pinched between his thumb and pointer finger.

"But why would he attack Y/n? They had nothing to do with the situation, right?" He asked. Suddenly three pairs of eyes were on you as they realized that no one had actually asked you what happened.

"U-uh, yeah," You said, feeling tense under their gazes, "I had been on my way home from the bar. I live close by so I didn't think walking home would be a that big of a deal. But as I was walking by that alleyway he pulled me in and tried to restrain me. I managed to get away and that's when Dynamite and Uravity showed up."

"Maybe he thought you were someone else?" Uravity spoke up.

"It's possible. Or he was looking for some prey to celebrate another successful crime committed with," Dynamite added. You didn't really like what he was implying, and chose to ignore it. To think that you could've been so close to something like that....

"Too bad he didn't know who he was messing with. You have to be pretty tough to have the kind of bad luck that you do, Y/n." Midoriya said with a grin, trying to offset the tension in the air. You smiled at him, thankful for the change of topic.

"Ha. I don't know about that, but thanks Midoriya."

A loud yawn cut Midoriya off from whatever he was about to say. You both turned to Dynamite, who was stretching his long arms far above his head.

"If we're done here, I'm leaving. Kirishima mentioned something about making dinner tonight and I'm starving."

Midoriya just laughed, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Sure. See you later, Kacchan! Tell Kiri I said hi."

"Uh-huh."  Dynamite separated from the rest of the party, his heavy boots thunking against the road's pavement. You reached your arm out, calling out to him before he had a chance to get too far. He turned, looking disinterested over his shoulder.

"Thanks for saving me today. You and Uravity both," You added the last part so the brunette wouldn't think you weren't just as grateful for her help as well.

Dynamite watched you and for a split second, he smiled. Not a cocky grin or his usual scowl, but a real, genuine smile.

"No problem. It's my job." Then he continued moving, "Later, extras."

Midoriya turned to you with a wide grin, fists clutched up near his chest in a gesture of excitement.

"Wow! I think Kacchan likes you!"

"What? really?" You asked, startled by the sudden outburst. You didn't really get the same impression.

"I thought so too. He isn't usually that friendly with strangers. Or with friends."

What a strange, strange person Katsuki Bakugou is.

"Ah.."

"Well, anyway, I'll go talk to the police and tell them what we learned from Y/n. Then I need to head home, too. Tsu might be worried that I'm not home yet."

"Bye, Ocha. I'll see you and Tsu in a few weeks?" 

"Definitely! See you then! Bye, Y/n!"

With that it was just you and Midoriya.

"What's happening in a few weeks?" You asked, half from curiosity and half in hopes to stave off the oncoming awkward silence.

"My friends from my old class are meeting up then. It's pretty rare that we can all get together at once, so I'm really excited about it!" 

"Oh, that's great. I hope you have fun." 

"I will!" He said with that smile that you were coming to realize was so uniquely Midoriya. Wide and bright like the sun itself, "So, are you ready to go?"

You took a glance at the space around you. Many of the people had started to leave, likely to stay with friends or relatives until they can figure out what to do. The fire fighters still worked hard to put out the blaze. The scene squeezed at your heart, making you feel rather depressed for the former inhabitants of the apartment building. You didn’t really have any hopes of sticking around the scene for much longer.

"Yeah. I think so."

"After you, then." He said, gesturing the space in front of you. You nodded, but your body was hesitant to move any farther. What if you were attacked again? The chances were slim, but weirder things have happened before.  

"Hey," Midoriya's gentle voice saved you from your own thoughts, guiding your gaze upwards towards him

"Whatever happens, I'll keep you safe, 'kay? Don’t worry. "

Right. What were you even worried about? You had a hero with you now. Even if someone else wanted to hurt you, there's no way they would actually mess with you. 

Briefly, you remembered what Midoriya had said when you exchanged numbers what felt like an eternity ago. Something about offering you his heroic services. That's sort of like what he was doing now, wasn't it? The thought brought a smile to your face. 

You began again your trek home, no longer with any worries that more harm would come your way. Midoriya followed closely.  Maybe it was just in your mind, but it seemed that he was walking a little closer than normal to you.

As you walked, Midoriya took your arm. You were confused at first, only until he took your other hand and lifted the handkerchief gently from your wound.

"The bleeding stopped, so that's a good sign," He said as he examined the cut, "Looks like you're right. It's not too deep. Good."

He bundled up the handkerchief in his hands and stuffed it back into the red pouch from where it came.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to properly dress the cut myself once we reach your place."

You were more than capable to do it on your own. You knew the bare minimum of first aid well enough. But you didn't have the heart to tell him so. Not like you were going to resist help and attention from your favorite hero, anyway.

The walk didn't take long. Only about ten minutes until you reached your own apartment complex. It felt surreal leading Midoriya up to your apartment, holding the door open for him once you got there. He looked around the space, taking in every detail. You couldn’t help but feel nervous, maybe a little judged, as he scrutinized your choice in decor. But he didn't comment. He only turned to you once he was done investigating, and smiled. 

"Which way to the bathroom?" 

"First door on the right," You said, pointing to the hall on the far end of the living room. He started off in that direction, gesturing for you to follow. You do as told and met him in the bathroom. He flips on the light switch and turns the sink's faucet on. You watched the running water with a grimace, dreading the inevitable sting that comes with disinfecting a wound.

Midoriya smiles, his instinct to comfort those in need kicking in.

"I'm sorry but I have to. I don't want you getting an infection or anything. You can hold my hand, if you need," He said, holding out his large palm towards you. You wanted to resist, but the thought of getting to wrap your fingers around his was much too tempting. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about it before. It was definitely just curiosity to see what it was like that drove you to rest your hand against his. Pure curiosity and nothing else.

Once your hand was secure inside his, he took your wrist in his other hand and guided you towards the water. The water was cold and chilled your skin, shooting a shiver through your entire body. He let go of you for only a moment to lather a washcloth in some soap, then came back to envelop your hand in his.

You thought you were prepared enough, but as he brought the washcloth to rub against your wound, you flinched. You hissed at the pain without meaning too, eyes tightening closed. Midoriya's gentle voice shushed you, his hand tightening around yours and his thumb brushing the back of your hand. You felt your heart pang at the gesture. 

"I know it hurts. This'll just be a few minutes okay? You're doing so well."

You nodded along to his voice, silently thanking him in your mind. He had such a talent for comforting those in distress. Undoubtedly one of the reasons why he was so widely loved among the public.

"So, Kacchan and Ocha helped you out today, hm?" He asked. It seemed like he was trying to distract you from the burning pain in your arm, so you indulged him. You acknowledge him with a small hum, meeting his eyes.

"I can't believe you're getting saved by other heroes now. I thought we had something special," He joked. You couldn't help but smile, a little giggle bubbling up in the back of your throat. Midoriya flashed you that warm grin that you couldn't seem to get enough of. Those expressive eyes of his always seemed to give away exactly what he was thinking. And right now, he seemed elated that he was able to bring up your mood, even if just a little.

"I'm so sorry Midoriya," You said, trying your best to be dramatic despite your laughter, "It's not you. It's me."

Midoriya scoffed, trying to hide his own joy in favor of being a little dramatic himself, "I can't believe you would do this to me. After everything we've been through."

"I know, I screwed up. Could you ever give me another chance?"

Midoriya huffed, turning his nose up at you. "I don't know if I could even look at you the same way ever again."

You tried to continue your little game but you couldn't, your laughter completely consuming you. Midoriya watched you for a moment with stars in his eyes before he followed suit. It seemed like it took minutes for you laughter to die down completely. Every time you would settle down, your eyes would meet and you'd start laughing again. 

Geez, you really needed this. You really needed him.

Wait, not in that way. Or- maybe? No, definitely not.

Your eyes averted from his at the indecent thought. 

Still, chucking under his breath, Midoriya rinsed off your cut and dried it off for you, letting it finally rest at your side again. He rinsed out the washcloth, wringed it out, then tossed it in the laundry hamper in the corner. 

"Can you hop up on the counter for me?" He asked as he washed his own hands. You did as you were told. Once his hands were cleaned and dried, he flipped open one of the red pouches at his hip again and pulled out a roll of bandages. He stepped close until he was slotted in between your legs, undoing some of the bandage from the roll.

"Let me see your arm?"

You presented it to him, trying to ignore just how close he'd gotten now. Did he even realize? Was he not paying attention because he was so focused on helping you? His face was so close to yours as you looked up at him, but he was fixed on wrapping the bandages around your forearm. 

Snap out of it! It’s not that big of a deal, you tried to tell yourself, but your thoughts weren’t convincing enough.

"Hey, so... I hope this isn't a bad time but, remember how I mentioned that my friends are getting together soon?" You noded, urging him to continue, "I was wondering if maybe... you'd like to go too?"

"Wha- uh... me?" 

You wanted to slap yourself for saying something so stupid. But your mind had already been so focused on Midoriya’s warm body heat radiating off him that perhaps your brain was already melting a little. Paired with the shock that he wanted you to hang out with all his cool hero friends, it was no wonder you weren’t functioning well.

Midoriya laughed and you felt your face start burning red.

"Yes, you."

Would you even feel comfortable around so many high profile people? Surely you'd feel out of place. You were quick to feel comfortable in Midoriya's presence in a casual setting, but what about an entire group of them? Didn't he mention it was his entire class? How many people would that be? Fifteen? Twenty?

"Please?" He said once he realized you were probably going to say no, "I'd really like for you to meet my friends. They'll all love you, I know it! If you can get Kacchan's approval then I'm convinced you can get anyone to like you!" He said with a little giggle. Your heart flipped. Why did he think so highly of you?

You looked up to meet his gaze and felt your mind immediately change. How could you ever say no to that face? Those pleading eyes, batting their long, pretty little eyelashes at you. Those puffed out freckled cheeks and pursed lips. The way his head tilted like a begging puppy, making his fluffy forest colored hair tickle his nose a bit.

How could you ever say no to him?

You rubbed the back of your head nervously, avoiding his gaze again.

"Alright. I guess it does sound fun."

At the very least, there was no safer place in the world than with a league of heroes.

A wide grin nearly split his face in two at your acceptance of the invitation. His eyes started glowing teal in that familiar way that told you his quirk was activating. Was he doing that on purpose? Or was he just so excited that he couldn't contain it? 

You heard a crackle in the air and that snapped Midoriya back to the moment. He quickly reigned it in once he realized what was happening, and all traces of his quirk were gone. He laughed, giving you a shy apology, before he descended into silence.

He continued wrapping your arm up. Once he was happy with his work, he snapped the bandage and secured the end with a piece of medical tape that he also had hidden in that red pouch. 

"Not too tight?" He asked. You shook your head no. 

"Okay, good. I think you're all set, then,“ He separated from you and you’re suddenly missing the closeness instead of dreading it, “Now that you're all taken care of I should head out. You're sure that there isn't anything else wrong?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," You hopped off of the counter and turned the sink on so that you could wash the dried blood from your fingers, "You're leaving so soon?"

"I still have some work at the agency to take care of." 

"So late? Can't you do it tomorrow?" 

Midoriya thought on this while you dried your hands. "I guess I could. But I would rather get it done as soon as possible."

You nudged him a little, not enough to actually push him, but enough to get across that you were annoyed.

"Weren't you the one earlier telling me that it's not smart to do something reckless like that?"

"That's completely different!" 

"Maybe the situations are different, but the advice is still the same. You shouldn't do something stupid just cause you feel like you need to."

"So you admit that it was stupid to not get the cut checked out?" He said with a grin. This time you really pushed him but, sturdy as a brick wall, he didn't even budge.

"That's not the point! We're talking about you now. You should practice what you preach, Midoriya!" You said, jabbing a finger into his chest.

"Maybe you should, Y/n," He said, jabbing you back.

"Dang it. Stop being difficult. I'm trying to scold you."

He crossed one of his arms across his chest, using it to prop his other arm on so that he could rest his chin on his hand.

"And how's that going for you?" 

You smacked his arm and he didn't even flinch.

"Stop! When did you get so sassy, Midoriya?"

"When I realized how cute you get when you're annoyed," He said, eyes lidded and grin smug.

You gasped so hard you inhaled your spit and coughed until you were red in the face.

"Sh-shut up! I'm not being cute!"

Midoriya at least had the grace to look concerned as you slipped past him and out of the bathroom. Sarcastic bastard.

"Anyway, the point is that you should take better care of yourself. You can't help people if you aren't even helping yourself."

You spun around to face him as he left your bathroom.

"Have you eaten dinner today?"

"Um... no. But that’s usual for me most nights."

"And how often is that because you just decide you should be working instead of listening to your body and taking proper breaks?"

Midoriya shied away from you. The small, petty part of you felt glad now that he was the one getting cornered. Not so tough now.

But that was wiped away immediately when he muttered out his soft reply under his breath. 

"Um... most nights."

Oh.

Your whole scolding façade dropped. You don't have the heart to be so chastising when he was looking and sounding like that. So... dejected. 

"Midoriya," You said softly, "That's... really not good." 

You looked up at the clock on your wall. It read ten o'clock. He was really planning on continuing work this late? And even worse, he was going to do so without any fuel in his body? No wonder he was always so exhausted. 

Without thinking, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into your kitchen. 

"W-wait! What are you doing?"

"I'm making you something to eat, and you aren't leaving until you eat it."

"You don't have to do that, Y/n. Really." 

Despite his word, his stomach rumbled in desperation. Just the thought of getting food in him and his body was already responding.

"Yes I do."

You pushed him down onto a bar stool and start searching through your fridge. Really, you didn't have much to offer. But you were determined to get this man some nourishment.

"Oh, I made some ramen stir fry for dinner last night. I have some leftovers here in the fridge. How does that sound?"

"Oh, um..." 

In truth, it sounded divine right now. The promise of food had Midoriya’s mouth salivating and his stomach grumbling once again. But you went through the effort of making yourself that and now you were going to give it to him instead? He couldn't let you do that.

"I know what you're thinking. Don't even say it. Do you want the stir fry, Midoriya?" 

He looked up at you shyly through his eyelashes and nodded.

"Then you can have it." 

You pulled the tupperware out of the fridge and stuck it into the microwave. While you waited for the food to heat you retrieved a bowl and a new pair of chopsticks for him to use. You spent the rest of the time swaying and humming to yourself, ignorant to the pair of very grateful, and very lovesick eyes on you. 

When the microwave beeped, you pulled the tupperware out and transferred the food into the bowl. You placed the bowl and chopsticks before him but as you tried to pull away he enveloped your hands in both of his. 

"Thank you so much," He said, staring into your eyes, sincerity spilling from his lips. You struggled to keep meeting his gaze, it was much too intense for your heart to handle. 

"There's no need for that, Midoriya. I'm more than happy to feed you if you aren't doing it yourself. Consider it pay back for all the times you saved me. If I get your heroic services then you get my cooking services."

He laughed under his breath letting your hands go free. Unable to resist, he accepted your kindness with a nod and one last deeply sincere thank you, before digging in. 

The moan of delight that comes from him as soon as the meal touches his tongue has joy(and perhaps something else that you're choosing to ignore) blooming inside your body.

"Y/n, you made this!? I didn't realize you were such a good cook!" He said after swallowing down a lump of food. 

"Thanks Midoriya. I'm glad you like it. Would you like anything to drink?"

"Just a glass of water is fine, thank you!" He said before going back in for another hefty bite. You turned your back to him, distracting yourself by getting his water. Quite frankly, he was eating like a pig. But you didn't bother him for it, because he needed this. He was hungry and he obviously didn't realize just how much.

By the time you had delivered his requested drink to him nearly every single morsel had disappeared from the bowl. Midoriya chewed on his last bite slowly, realizing that he had been devouring that food as if he were a competitive eater, not a pro hero. 

"Goodness, Midoriya!" You said, setting his glass down beside him with a clunk, "Did you even chew, or did you just suck the whole thing down like a vacuum?"

"S... sorry. I guess I didn't realize how hungry I was."

"No need to apologize, okay? I'm just glad that you indulged me and ate something."

He nodded, picking up the glass as you took his bowl. You rinsed it out and put it in the dishwasher, and by the time you turned around Midoriya was setting down a completely empty cup.

Did he know how to do anything slowly? 

He stood from his seat, stretching his body taut before relaxing again with a sigh. 

"Okay. Now I really should go. But thank you again for the meal." 

"Of course. Now, just promise me you'll return home before midnight so that you can get some semblance of a proper night's rest, too."

Midoriya hesitated. 

"Promise."

"Okay, alright! I promise I'll make it home before twelve."

You weren’t entirely sure you accepted that promise. Seeing this, Midoriya sighed and raised his fist in the air, pinkie outstretched. 

"Pinkie promise?"

Oh. So he does mean business. You never break a pinkie promise. Never. At least that’s what you always thought, as silly as it may seem.

You wrapped your pinkie around his and he held it extra tight. He looked you right in the eye, so intently that you couldn't look away.

"I swear to you that I'll make it home before twelve. A hero never breaks his promise."

"I expect a text that you're back home before midnight."

Midoriya couldn't help the chuckle that left his lips. You were starting to sound like his mother now. She had always been a little strict like this, but only ever in a way that said she cared, not that she was controlling. You reminded him a lot of his mom, actually.

"Then you'll get one."

"Good."

Once the deal was made, he let go of your pinkie and you both dropped your arms to your sides.

It would be easy to lie to you in this situation. He could always text you around eleven telling you that he’s home, even if he wasn't. But you trusted Midoriya. Besides, you'd know that he was lying the second you'd ask him about it in person. You learned pretty quick that he's a terrible liar.

"I'll see you soon then? In a few weeks?"

"Hopefully sooner then that. I still want to take you to that little bookstore, remember?"

"That’s right! I'll let you know when I have some free time, okay?" He said, separating himself from you to reach the kitchen entrance. He grabbed the side of the doorway, watching you as he waited for your reply.

"Got it. See you then, Midoriya."

"See you then," He mimicked with a wave then disappeared from sight. A few second passed as you listened to his footsteps retreating through the living room. The front door creaked open, then closed behind him.

Your apartment felt uncomfortably silent in that moment. Almost empty and lonely. As if, now that it had such a radiant guest, it would never feel the same until he returned. The entire energy in the room seemed to drain until it was a dull gray instead of the bright colors that seemed to surround the hero on the daily. 

Your feet dragged you towards your bedroom. You were eager for a long deserved and well needed rest. Especially after the weird night you had. 

You shucked off your clothes as you went, tossing them on your floor once you reached your destination. You'd worry about them later. 

You dressed in your pajamas then curled up into bed. You tried not to think about Midoriya, or about the concerning, non-platonic thoughts you keep having of him lately as you try to fall asleep. But his silly demeanor and bright smile made it hard. 

You couldn't possibly be falling for the guy, could you? Sure he was handsome, funny, strong, and cool. Sure, he made your knees go weak whenever he'd stand a little too close but... he had that effect on everybody, right? It's Deku we're talking about here.

What was worse was that you had begun to think that he liked you back. The way he acted with you... but he must be like that with all his friends. A little cheeky and... Maybe he was just a little flirty by nature?  

You shelved your concerns for a later time. No need to worry about it now, while sleep thankfully overtook you. At least you could use it as an excuse to avoid your problems just a little bit longer.

[kass-storycorner]

I literally can’t sleep right now because I ate something ✨spicy✨ earlier and I shouldn’t have finished eating it after I noticed it that it was too spicy for my liking 🥲 (and knowing full well that my stomach can’t handle spice at all). But I was hungry and stupid and now I’m laying in bed with stomach ache and feeling sick… so I was inspired to write this (on my phone so the formatting is a bit weird). In those sense I am a Chongyun kinnie I guess. Now excuse me while I try to get a bit of sleep, I have therapy and work tomorrow and I really need a good nights rest for both.

Idea: Thoma invited you over to cook you dinner, but he underestimated how sensitive your stomach is (compared to his own… Thoma would probably eat the dubious meal from Botw without batting an eye)

Characters: Thoma x gn!reader

Genre: fluff

Content warning: mention of feeling sick, mentioning the preparations for vomiting, like getting a bucket etc. (but no actually vomiting takes place, this is the CN for all the other ppl out there like me who can’t deal with the topic very well), very very very slight suggestiv content warning (it’s just one stupid joke of Thoma lol)

Format: i feel like it’s too long to be a drabble but it’s also not proof read so eh also I don’t know how to put something under a cut via the tumblr app so until I’m on a desktop you have to deal with this in the tags I AM SO SORRY

You knew it was a mistake to finish your plate as soon as you ate the first spoon of what Thoma had prepared for you two. But he looked at you with such a bright smile in anticipation of what you would say, how you’d like what he had made specifically for the two of you. It was such a nice gesture for Thoma to cook for you, when he asked you yesterday you accepted his invitation for tonight. The both of you had been dating for a while now, however Thoma didn’t have many nights just for himself as the Housekeeper of the Kamisato Clan. So it was very nice for him to spend his first night off in a while cooking for you. With all of that in mind and his puppy eyes looking at you - ah, you just didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was too spicy for you. It wasn’t even that you didn’t like the taste, you probably would like the dish, but it was just… so spicy, there was no option for a taste. It was just burning in your mouth. With a smile you just kept eating until your plate was empty, hoping the consequences of your actions would be too severe.

And for a while you felt fine, spending the rest of the evening cuddling with Thoma on the couch, listening to how he told you stories about his home with a bittersweet tone. In the middle of one of his stories, he was just telling you about a story from his childhood when he searched with two friends for one of their pet turtles, your stomach interrupted him with a loud growl. “Oh, are you still hungry?”, he asked with a slightly teasing tone. “No, it’s nothing, just digestion”, you tried to laugh it off and for a while he kept continuing his stories, not paying too much attention to the different noises of your stomach. That was until he noticed how your body started to tense up, your face turning pale. “Hey, are you alright?”, Thoma shifted, having you sit beside him now. “Yeah, it’s nothing, I’m fin-“, but before you could even finish the sentence the pain in your stomach became worse, as if someone just punched you in it you jolted towards, hugging your arms around your stomach. Hunched over in pain you could feel Thoma’s hand on your back. “Do you need to vomit? Wait a moment”, before you could even answer his question he was already on his feet, running towards the small kitchen and getting you a bucket. Just as quick as he was on his feet he sat back beside you, his hand back on your back, the bucket placed in front of you. “Thoma, really I’m fine it’s ju-“, again you were interrupted by the pain, having to take a deep breath to manage the cramp. “You don’t seem fine to me,” his voice was filled with worry while he caressed your back. “It fine, really. I’m used to it, I just need to lay down a bit,” You we’re finally able to say, giving him a pained smile. This really wasn’t ideal and to be honest it was so embarrassing for you. Maybe, you thought to yourself, that’s the punishment for not being honest from the beginning. But you couldn’t turn back time, so this was now your evening. “Okay, hold on,” before you could even understand what he mean with that he stood up and picked you up, carrying you bridal style to his bedroom. “Thoma, what are you doing?”, surprised by the sudden action you cling to his jacket. “You said you needed to lay down,” he put you down on his bed, “it’s best for you to lay down here, the couch really isn’t the most comfortable when you need rest.” Any other night you would feel something different in your stomach, nervousness, excitement- whatever, the way he carried you into his bedroom, put you down on his bet… you really wished that the circumstances were different for his actions. Was he even aware of what he was doing? “Thoma, I’m sorry”, you sigh, hiding your face in your hands. God, all of this was so embarrassing. He sat down at the end of the bed, his hand on your leg. “Hey, don’t be, it’s not your fault that you don’t feel well.” Thoma stood up from the bed, throwing a blanked over you to then make his way out of the room. “Don’t go”, you mumbled before he was at the bedroom door. “Mmh? What did you say?”, he asked and came closer to you again. You grabbed the fabric of his clothes, repeating yourself. “Don’t go, please.”

The pain in your stomach was still bad, but worse was the thought of having to spend the night alone in Thoma’s bed and him willingly sleeping on his couch, because you couldn’t tell him the truth. Without any further words Thoma filled the empty space next to you in his bed, laying on his side, his one hand supporting his head and the other hand softly going through your hair. You had your eyes closed, concentrating on your breathing, to regulate the pain but also to calm yourself down from the whole situation. Laying next to him in his bed, so close and it all felt so intimate… ah, maybe the nervousness of the whole situation didn’t really help with the pain. After a while you felt Thoma’s hand press against your forehead. “Mmmh, they don’t seem to have a fever, that’s good”, he mumbled to himself. Ah, did he think you fell asleep? Awkwardly you cleared your throat, opening your eyes looking directly into his. “Oh-ah, you’re still awake?”, he looked a bit embarrassed at you noticing how he talked to himself out loud. “Umm- yeah. Thoma,” you shifted, now laying on your side and not on the back anymore, facing him. “Don’t worry, I’m really not ill, it’s just…”, you paused, hesitant to tell him this, “it’s just, the dish you made earlier was a bit … too spicy for me, I quite the sensitive stomach and… I just didn’t want to tell you earlier, you made such an effort to cook for me and-“, you didn’t knew what else was there to stay, burying your face again in your hands you mumbled out another apology to him. “I’m sorry that I didn’t notice it, I made you eat two plates of it, without seeing that you didn’t even enjoy it”, Thoma pulled you in a hug, his chin now resting on your head. “No, Thoma don’t apologise. You couldn’t have known it, I promise you I’ll tell you in future…”. Suddenly you felt another wave of stomach pain, making you curl up again in pain. “Ah, it’s so stupid that my body reacts to a bit of spice like that,” you try to joke, but Thoma only caresses your cheek, looking at you with worry. “How bad is it?”, he asks, wishing he could be of any kind of help to you. “I’m just in pain, so it’s not that bad”, you say hoping he won’t press further on the matter. You really weren’t in the mood to explain to him what exactly it could entail when you ate things that upset your stomach - especially spicy food. “Can I help?”, his hand again at your back, slowly going up and down. “Do… do you have a heating pad or something similar? Sometimes it helps when I put some heat on my stomach.” “No, I don’t have one put… wait, I have a better idea.” With that he made you turn your back to him, pressed to his stomach with it. “T-Thoma?”, you asked nervously when you felt his hand under your shirt on top of your stomach. “Don’t worry, just trust me I won’t do anything funny,” he replied. “Unless you want me to”, he added, which earned him a small nudge with your elbow in his side. “Ouch, okay got it, not the time and place”, Thoma chuckled and then you suddenly felt the heat on your stomach. You sigh at the feeling, visibly relaxing now. You two just stayed there for a while until you were the first one to fall asleep in his arms, Thoma following shortly after you. Neither of you did expect to spend your first night together like this, but you weren’t complaining.

[gotnofucks]

Sell My Soul - 2

Pairing: dark!Lee Bodecker x Reader

Summary: Your husbands finds a secret you’ve been keeping and he is not happy.

Words: 2k

Warning: non-con/dub-con (past, mentioned), smut, breeding kink, Stockholm syndrome (kinda), language, 18+ ONLY

A/N: The second part to Sell My Soul. Read the first part here .  

 Part 3

MASTERLIST

 ---------------------------------------------------------

You found him waiting for you in the bedroom, sitting on the bed with his legs apart and his handcuffs on the bedside cabinet. You walked in timidly and he gestured for you to shut the door. His face for once was emotionless and you felt your heart drop in your stomach. Your husband scared you most when he became this way, because you knew behind this façade was a fury that would burn you. You’d seen it only a couple times since you’d married him all those months ago and it still gave you nightmares.

“Come here, Mrs Bodecker. It’s time we have a little talk.” Lee said and you walked to sit beside him. Before you could, he held your waist and lowered you to your knees between his parted legs. He tapped your chin and you raised your head to gaze up at him. Though his posture was relaxed, his eyes were dark. These blue eyes had looked at you in all sorts of ways: lust, anger, jealousy and even kindness. You shivered slightly.

“Tell me Y/n, haven’t I been a kind husband to you?” He asked, and you nodded. In the traditional sense of the word, he had. He provided for you and kept you safe. There were days he’d chase you around the house and lavish you with kisses, or times when he’d be overcome with an urge to care for you and he’ll feed you himself.

“Unlike the other men you know, have I ever raised a hand or belt on you?” he continued, and you shook your head, confused. Though he could be rough, he’d never beaten you. The only marks you carried were made by his mouth or the occasional prints of his fingers in throes of passion.

“Didn’t I straighten out your brother and let him keep that store of yours?” You nodded again, not knowing where he was going with these questions. You’d gotten a little better at reading him over the months, but you didn’t know what had gotten into him today.

Lee sighed then, before take hold of your face and holding tight. The fire in his eyes seemed to flare.

“Didn’t I forgive you when you tried to run away from me, not just once but twice?” His voice was hard, and you swallowed. You’d made two unsuccessful escape attempted but hadn’t even made it to the town borders before he caught you. That was within the first few months of your marriage. You didn’t try it again because it was futile. He had been angry, so so angry. You hadn’t left the bed and the house for days and he stayed home with you, fucking the truth of his ownership into you for days.

“Lee, I won’t do it again. You know it.” You said and placed your hands on his thighs just the way you know he liked.

He tilted his head and licked his lips as he looked at you in contemplation. The glass around his emotions was cracking and his face contorted in anger as he leaned down to whisper directly in your face.

“Tell me Mrs Bodecker, how long have you been taking these?” He asked and your heart almost stopped beating as he pulled out the bottle of contraceptive pills from his pocket. Your eyes widened in terror and you looked from the bottle in his hand to his eyes with increasing panic. His hand around your jaw became painful and you pushed against his wrist.

“Please”, you croaked and Lee suddenly pushed you away before standing up. You stumbled backwards and crawled away from him but didn’t run away. That would be a fatal mistake right now.

“I cared for you, provided for you, I was kind to you and your family and all I asked in return was for you to be a good wife and give me children, a family. This is how you repay me?” He practically spat the words and started unbuttoning his shirt. He threw it away and he took long strides towards you before hauling you up by your arm. “Strip”

“Lee, please, lets talk about this”, you pleaded.

“There is nothing left to talk about. Strip right now before I rip off your dress and parade you through the neighborhood to let you and everyone else know your fucking place.”

You trembled as you started striping and watched him do the same. This was probably the angriest you had ever seen him, and you had no thoughts of disobeying at this point. The moment your undergarment was off, and you were bare, he picked you up and tossed you on the bed but didn’t climb up himself. Instead, he took his handcuffs from the bedside cabinet and started fiddling with them.

“How long have you been taking these for?” He asked and you eyed the handcuffs with rising trepidation before answering.

“From the very day we got married.”

He stalked towards you and took your hands before cuffing them to the headboard, leaving you prone and helpless.

“Is that the truth? Because if I find out that you were ever pregnant and terminated my child –”

“No!” You cut him off suddenly. “I wouldn’t do that, you have to believe me. I – I was never pregnant.” You closed your eyes and tried not to cry. The bed dipped under his weight and he hovered over you, the spicy scent of his cologne and sweat smothering you.

“Why did you do it?” He asked and something in his voice made you open your eyes and peer deeply into his. For the first time you saw a crack in his veneer and saw hidden within the layers of anger the betrayal than sat within. Your heart thudded for an entirely different reason because you never expected the strong man who you called husband to ever look as vulnerable as he did at that point.

“I am sorry Lee” you sobbed. “I was so scared”

His lips trailed over your tear stained cheeks before following a well-known path down your body and stopped between your thighs. Familiar hands parted them, and you felt his kisses on your nub that made you clench around nothing.

“What were you scared of, Y/n?” He was looking at you with his chin covered in your essence and truth spilled out of your lips.

“I don’t want children growing up in a house where their parents’ marriage was made by force and not love.”

Lee’s face twisted and he crawled up until his face was right above yours.

“You don’t think there is love in our marriage?”

Your mouth parted but no words came out. Was there love in your marriage? You never wanted to marry him; he had blackmailed you into it. You’d tried everything for the first few months to leave him and start a new life somewhere else. But when it became apparent that you were stuck with him, you’d ceased your efforts. You’d become resigned to the fact that you were his wife and had tried your best to adapt to that role so your life could go as smoothly as was possible. For months now you’d been a dutiful wife to him, and you were surprised when he was what others would say a good husband to you. Was there love in your relationship? Was there more than duty and resignation in your heart for him?

“I don’t know Lee, I don’t know!”

You expected him to shout at you, but your husband was full of surprises tonight. He kissed you, and he kissed you in a way he had never before. It was gentle yet passionate and he took his time tracing every part of your mouth. You were breathless by the time he pulled away and struggling against the handcuffs.

“How can you not see our love? How can you not see my love?” He didn’t let you answer and let his mouth press wet kisses everywhere on your body. He bathed your breasts and sucked, your moans urging him on. “How can you deprive me of the chance to see our children nurse from these breasts?”

“Lee, please uncuff me.” You pleaded but he paid you no mind. Your emotions were everywhere, and you wanted nothing more than to touch him right now.

“How can you deprive me of seeing you get beautiful and round with our child” He said nuzzling your stomach and you struggled harder against the cuffs. They cut into your soft skin, but you didn’t care.

“Please honey, release me. I need to touch you.” You begged. He had again nestled his head between your thighs, and you needed him to lick off every drop of moisture that leaked out of you.

“How can you take those disgusting pills that prevent my seed from growing inside this cunt? This pretty cunt that would taste ten times sweeter with our baby inside you.” He licked a straight strip and you arched your back. He thrust inside you with his tongue and played with your bud until you came with his name on your lips.

“Lee!”

His hands were beside your head now and his cock at your entrance.

“Look me in my eyes and tell me you don’t see love there.” He whispered and your heart clenched painfully in your chest. Your eyes watered and he entered you slowly, groaning with every inch. His thrusts were unhurried, and you burned everywhere he touched you.

“My hands” You whispered and this time he listened. Still inside you he reached for the key and uncuffed you, taking your raw hands in his and kissing them. You put them around him and kissed him deep, trying to convey through him what you were feeling.

“If I were to give you divorce papers right now, would you sign?” He asked and stopped moving inside you. Your hips buckled and tried to get him to move but he pinned you down with his weight. “Tell me, my sweet little wife. Would you sign them?”

You could see nothing more than his sweaty face above yours and feel nothing more than his body against yours. His heart was beating against you and gently combed your finger through his damn hair before touching his face.

“No, Mr Bodecker, I don’t want to leave you.” A truth that you hadn’t acknowledged to yourself. A scary truth that you never let your heart accept, but how could you not when he gazed at you with blue eyes that held the force of ocean behind them. You kissed him again and he moved, more frantic now.

“Promise me you’ll never take those pills again!”

“I won’t! I promise!”

“Promise me you won’t leave me.”

“I won’t leave you Lee!”

“You’re mine! My wife, my love. Tell me you’ll be the mother of my children”

“I’m yours, Lee! I will bear your kids! I’ll be their mother!” You shouted.

He hit that spot inside you that made your dig your heels in his back until he hit it again. Your voice rose up in a frenzy and you clamped hard on him, breathless with your release. Lee pumped into you until all you could see and feel and smell and taste was him. He went at you and when he came inside, his hands entwined with yours. You lay sweaty in his arms, neither of you letting the other go.

“You never answered me.” He whispered in your ear, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck. “Do you really think there is no love in this marriage?”

You looked at your husband and for the first time let the wall around your heart crumble. It mattered little in this moment how he took you. The truth was that you were his and you knew in your heart that he was yours too.

“I may have made a slight misjudgment” You admitted, and you saw him smirk. That smirk more than anything else assured you that things will be okay again.

[katsukithme]

First Aid

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

Summary: Your pro hero boyfriend is annoyingly opposed to first aid, and you have to get a little persuasive.

Warnings: Language, suggestive themes, lil bit spicy!! Not smut but like I’m easing into it. Mentions of injury.

Word count: about 1.9k :)

A/N: idek what this is man I am just h word on main for angry blonde firecracker man

**Character is aged up to at least 20**

You've about had it with this man. This absolute stubborn child of a man. If his bottom lip weren't already split, right now you'd be very highly considering doing it yourself.

You both were crowded into your small bathroom in your apartment, first aid supplies strewn across what little counter space you had, a few knocked onto the tile floor. You'd learned very early on in your relationship that keeping a first aid kit on deck was essential to dating Katsuki Bakugou. If only the bastard would sit still so you could actually use it.

It was a feat in and of itself that you managed to get him in here for the first aid in the first place. It was like luring a cat into the bathroom right before a bath. He knew what was coming... and it took bribery of course. But he was here, hips leaning against the edge of the sink, arms crossed over his bare chest as he faces you. You were standing in front of him (conveniently between him and the door), antiseptic in one hand and a bandage in the other, desperately trying to clean the cuts that littered his skin.

"Katsuki, come on! Quit moving around!" You say sternly, trying once again to dab the cloth over the wide gash that reached from his collarbone to his shoulder. It had stopped bleeding a while ago, but it looked pretty gnarly. And you'd be damned if you didn't at least disinfect it.

"I told you, I don't need first aid! I'm not even hurt." He retorts, indignantly avoiding every move you make towards him. Finally you throw down the bandage with a loud groan.

"We do this every time! How many times do I have to tell you? If you don't clean them they could get infected!" You demand, hands on your hips.

"Tch. As if I'd ever let something like that happen to me." He was operating with one singular braincell, you were sure of it. And the braincell was sitting in the 'stubborn asshole' part of Katsuki's brain.

"You- it's not... Jesus christ. It's not something you let happen! It'll only take a minute to clean them up, I promise."

He doesn't seem the least bit convinced, brows drawn together in such a deep scowl. It was exactly the sort of face a mother would scold you for, saying it'd get stuck that way.

Sometimes for him, you really thought it did.

"You said it'd take just a minute last time. And it absolutely fuckin' did not." He gripes and you throw your hands up in exasperation. It was like talking to a brick wall.

"Because you kept moving!" He rolls his eyes and stands up from the counter, pushing past you gently to go towards the door.

"Whatever. I don't need first aid." He growls out. Your hands ball into fists and your face sets into a hard expression. You'd had enough... no more good cop.

Before he turns the door handle you say just one more thing- and it stops him dead in his tracks.

"Bakugou Katsuki, if you don't come over here and sit your ass down so I can treat your wounds, so help me god I won't fuck you for a month."

He freezes, hand still holding the doorknob. He turns slowly to look at you over his shoulder, expecting to find any sort of lie, a trace of a fracturing exterior so he knew you didn't mean it. Instead, all he was met with was a stone cold glare.

He scoffs. "You're bluffing." He tries, and your arms cross over your chest.

"Try me. Go ahead, leave the bathroom. Get used to fucking your hand, it'll be the only action you see."

He was tempted of course to just leave. The odds of you bluffing were pretty high... he wasn't stupid, he knew it was just as much of a punishment for you as it would be for him. But the look in your eyes– it was threatening. Kind of hot, but he'd keep that to himself. The threat of an agonizing dry spell was too risky for him to point that out.

"Fuck. Fine..." he relents. And he takes his hand slowly off the doorknob.

You smirk triumphantly as he trudged slowly back into the bathroom, scowl still set into his face with no signs of leaving any time soon. You take a few steps back, however many the right space would allow so you could direct him. As much as he despised it, your threat had him wrapped around your little finger. More than usual.

You jut out your chin once towards the toilet, which had the lid closed. "Sit, asshole. Lemme fix you up." You say, tone firm but just a little soft around the edges as he finally starts to do as you say.

He plops himself down on the seat with a grumble under his breath, something along the lines of 'this is cruel and unusual punishment, but he sits nonetheless. And he was almost pouting with that expression on his face. It was cute... even if he was acting like an child. You decide to make the ordeal a little sweeter for the man, even if he was being unruly. With antiseptic in one hand and a bandage in the other, you give a soft push to his chest so he'd sit back and make space for you.

It was a cramped sort of space, not super ideal for his comfort or yours. But he always had space for you. He cocks a brow curiously as you move him, but says nothing when he realizes you're going to take a seat. How could he say no? Even he'd admit, he liked having you so close. Even if you're tending to injuries that really weren't that bad.

You straddle his thighs as settle in on his lap, shifting just a little to get comfortable. His hands immediately find your hips, keeping you nice and close. Once he seemed contented enough, you get to work cleaning him up.

It's quiet in the bathroom as you tend to the wounds, the only sounds being that of your first aid ministrations and your mingled breathing. He watches you intently, taking in every little mannerism and facial expression, hands tracing absentminded circles into your hips. His fingertips were barely beneath the hem of your shirt, seeking out the warmth of your bare skin to keep him entertained while you treat his minor injuries.

Finally once most of the scratches and such were taken care of, you turn to the cut on his lip, eyes meeting that intense vermillion gaze. He was uncharacteristically quiet, but you knew it was much more than that.

Katsuki wasn't really a man of words. He didn't express his undying love every five minutes, and you didn't expect him to. Instead he showed it in actions, in unspoken words found shining in his eyes. In a small quirk of his lips when you laugh, or an affectionate eye roll when you do something dumb. Showed it in the way he kissed you. In the way he'd lay you down and give it to you nice and good, just the way you liked.

You lightly dab at the wound on his lip, being careful not to hurt him since it was still pretty fresh. He doesn't seem even slightly fazed.

"Gotta be more careful, and lemme do this for you. Can't have you getting more hurt because you're bein' stubborn." You mumble, averting your eyes from that deep stare to eye the plush of his split bottom lip while you cleaned him up. If you made eye contact any longer, he'd have the satisfaction of making you blush.

He grunts softly, pulling you a little closer on his lap. "I was gonna let you." He mumbles, and it makes you roll your eyes. And his lips quirk up just a bit.

"You were not. You were gonna walk right out that door if I didn't threaten to take away sex." You mumble, and one of his hands starts to trace up your spine, effectively arching you against his chest.

"Maybe. But if I hadn't, you wouldn't be on my lap, would you?" He snarks, but his voice is all soft. You put your first aid supplies down on the counter and turn your eyes back to his once again, and he was grinning. He almost looked smug.

"Ah, shut up. Didn't have to sit here. Did it for you." He snorts in response, strong arms wrapping firmly around your waist.

"Sure you were." He was sarcastic, but his tone was still fond. "You like bein' this close just as much as I do, ass." You wrinkle your nose at him and push at his chest in retaliation, but it only makes him draw you in closer.

"You're the ass. Wouldn't sit still, wouldn't shut up till I said I wouldn't fuck you. Think with your dick, huh?" You tease, and his lips raise in a half playful snarl. Large palms slide over your hips to grab handfuls of your ass, keeping you right up against him.

"Shut the fuck up. You like when I think with my dick. Gets you all hot for me." He mumbles, lips barely brushing yours when he leans in close. You could feel the heat in your cheeks at the comment, spreading to the tips of your ears. He always did know just what to say to get you wrapped around his finger.

"What," he continues, dragging your hips forward against his own and you choke back a gasp. "Suddenly you're all quiet? Bet t's'cause I'm right. But I dunno, maybe I'm just thinking with my dick." You have to struggle not to whine as his hands guide you back and forth across his lap, and by god the friction was going to kill you. Your hands clutch to hard muscled shoulders, aching to gain back some semblance of self control.

But it was hard to keep sane around Katsuki. Damn near impossible.

"Fuck... you..." you breathe, trying to give him a glare but it comes off a little more wanton than you intended. His teeth graze your bottom lip, biting it gently and tugging outward before letting it back into place. His hips cant upwards, rolling into yours as he keeps you rooted firmly in place, and it tears a moan from your lips.

"Yeah? You wanna?" His voice has dipped down dangerously low in his throat, rumbling through his chest and sleeping into your bones. Between the movement of his hips and his mouthing along your jaw you felt as if you were going to combust.

"You're gonna be the death of me..." You can feel that damn shit eating grin against your jaw, and when your eyes meet deep vermillion you know you're a goner. He had you, hook line and sinker.

"Complain all you want, but you're whipped for me," he mumbles, one hand leaving the plush of your ass to cup the back of your neck, dragging you into a kind of kiss that made your toes curl, your knees shake. Hot and heavy, tongue and teeth.

Yeah, you were pretty whipped for Katsuki Bakugou... but he was just as whipped for you.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

bao | myg | 2

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Min Yoongi is always late to start work. He’s late in starting a lot of things. Like telling you he loves you.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of parental injury/surgery; SO MUCH fluff; non-idol!AU; (slightly more) jealous deliveryboy!Yoongi x hardworking chef!reader ft. bao fiend, next-door neighbor, model!Taehyung who can’t cook to save his life lol

-

1.

-

"What's wrong?" Kim Taehyung asked as he bit into his bao. He asked for an extra sweet bun for his manager today. "Is it your dad?" he added, concern laced on his voice. 

"No, not really. He has a checkup tomorrow." You gnawed on your lip as he excitedly chomped into his saucy beef bun. "Hopefully he's recovering well." You rubbed your forehead. Day by day, you could see Yoongi’s black eye healing, but you couldn’t help but worry about him. He had promised not to punch anyone heedlessly, but you doubted he meant it. "Don't get injured, Taehyung."

Taehyung raised his eyebrows. "Why would I get injured?"

"I don't know, but don't. I don't need any more stress," you chuckled dryly, not really amused but unsure exactly how you were feeling. 

Taehyung tilted his head. 

"Are you lonely?"

You raised your head. "Huh?"

"Have you seen your parents in person?"

You blinked. "Well, no. I have to prep, clean, and do errands on my off day. But I video call them often."

Taehyung shrugged. "You used to work at the counter and talk to people all day. Now you're only in the kitchen and the only human beings you see consistently are the delivery guy and I, right? They're all short interactions too." His brown eyes softened, almost parental. "It must be lonely."

You exhaled, feeling the invisible weight of the days’ past. "Maybe..."

Taehyung smiled. "Tell you what. I got a short day this week, so I'll stop by and help out. Just for fun!" He grinned wider now as you paled a bit at the thought. "You don't even have to pay me. I can do stuff!"

"Like what?" you laughed. "You can't cook, Taehyung."

He paused, realizing that was true. "I can clean!"

"You want to clean all day?"

"... I can eat!"

-

"Min Yoongi, Kim Taehyung."

Taehyung stuck his flour-covered hand out. "Hello! It's nice to meet you."

Yoongi blinked at his hand and gave him a small nod instead. Taehyung seemed to realize it was dirty and wiped his hands on a spare towel before eagerly grabbing Yoongi's hand and shaking it furiously. "I heard you're really dependable, hyung!"

Yoongi raised an eyebrow as his entire body shook with the force of Taehyung's handshake. He turned to your chuckling form rolling dough out into a circle. 

"That's the biggest lie you've ever told."

You smiled as you filled the dough circle with spicy pork. "Not true. You are dependable. Dependably late every morning."

You failed to notice Yoongi's apologetic frown, but Taehyung didn't. The younger man tilted his head, observing Yoongi’s dark eyes watching your hands. You pinched the bun into a neat twist before setting it on the tray.

"Taehyung, that's not a circle," you chided playfully, pointing to the, well, blob on Taehyung's side of the counter. 

Taehyung let go of Yoongi's hand. "I tried!" he whined childishly. "It's hard..."

Yoongi washed his hands clean as you wiped your hands on your apron. "Let me make lunch real quick while there's a break in orders and you two are here." You bumped into Yoongi as you headed to the sink, his wet hands colliding with your chest. 

"Ack, sorry, sorry," Yoongi mumbled, sounding flustered, but you laughed, brushing the water off.

"And that's why I wear my dad's jacket," you mused, referring to the white chef's coat you wore under the apron and over your clothes. 

You washed your hands at the sink, staring at the wide sleeves, remembering the call from earlier. Your father was recovering, but it would still be some time before he could work again and maybe not to his full capacity. Your father had protested, saying he felt fine. He was never one to complain about pain, but you knew he must have been hurting for years. If only he had gotten it checked out sooner. You sighed inwardly, but there was nothing you could do about it now. At the moment, you had to feed the two overgrown kids in your kitchen. 

"Wow, hyung, you're good!"

You turned around to see Yoongi rolling Taehyung's dough into a circle, tongue resting on the side of his lips, getting a bit of flour onto his leather sleeves. 

"Oh?"

You walked up behind him to see. Taehyung's dough was heavily over-kneaded, so the circle wasn't great but it was still a circle all the same. You smiled as Yoongi backed up, holding the wooden rolling pin awkwardly. 

"My brother's a chef," he mumbled. "And I've... seen you do it hundreds of times."

You picked up the dough circle and placed it in your palm, cradling it in your hand as you filled it with spicy pork. 

"Is it really spicy?" Taehyung asked worriedly.

You shook your head. "No, you should be fine. I remember you don't like your food too spicy." You pinched the top, twisting it prettily as you held it out to them. Taehyung looked it with sparkly eyes while Yoongi seemed embarrassed, eyes shifting awkwardly from the bun to the counter.

"It took three people to make this," you said with a laugh. “Hopefully it tastes good.”

-

You cut it in half evenly a few hours later, almost closing time. You held out one half to Taehyung and one half to Yoongi, whose cheeks were flushed from running around outside. He had worked hard all day, and you even had clients calling, complimenting on his speed and efficiency. Taehyung, well, Taehyung had been great company, although not particularly useful. A fun change from your usual lonesome day. 

Steam rose from the meat and white dough, soft and pliable.

The bun warmed your hands and their faces warmed your heart.

“What about you?” Taehyung said, taking one of the halves from you.

You grinned. “Nah, I’ll pass. I don’t want to get poisoned.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes. “Hey! You made the dough. All I did was roll it into a circle.”

“Actually, I rolled it into a circle,” Yoongi pointed out.

Taehyung fluffed his cheeks. “I rolled it into an almost circle.”

You recalled the shape of the blob with a scrutinous and amused frown. “Yeah, I don’t know about that.”

“It’s good.”

You turned your head to see Yoongi chewing. The half-bun was still in your fingers, a bite taken out of it. Had he… eaten it from your hand? You stared at him, but he wasn’t looking at you. His long fingers reached out and gripped the half, fingertips brushing against yours. He was still chewing, nodding thoughtfully.

“Not too spicy either.”

Your hand was still in the air. You quickly put it down and turned your attention to Taehyung, who took a huge bite.

“Ah! Hot!”

You laughed, fanning the space around his mouth. “Of course, it is. I just steamed it.”

Taehyung’s jaw wiggled as he tried to blow the steam off his tongue, panicked noises coming from his throat as you grabbed a water bottle and opened it for him so he could cool it off with a gulp of cool liquid.

“Ah, what am I going to do with you, Taehyung…”

-

You counted out Yoongi’s pay from the day’s total, calculating quickly. This was the easiest part of the day for you. Math came to you naturally. Cooking was much harder, at least when it came to cooking even half as good as your father.

“Do you like Taehyung?”

You had sent Taehyung home with bags full of buns to give to his parents. He had left with a skip in his step and a huge boxy grin, thanking you repeatedly and almost dropping everything. You had to yell at him to be careful at least three times.

“Of course, Taehyung’s my friend,” you chuckled. “He can be a bit all over the place though.”

“I meant in a more than friends kind of way.”

You stopped and looked up from you calculator. Yoongi was leaning over the counter, one arm perched on it, black leather jacket open and revealing his black-and-white patterned dress shirt. You noticed the first couple buttons were undone. Silver chains hung around his neck, decorating his collarbones. His long fingers tapped on the wood, silver rings glinting against his pale skin.

“Taehyung?” You shrugged. “Not really. Never thought of him that way.”

Yoongi gave you a long, discerning look. His dark brown eyes searched yours, hooded by his black bangs. It was making you uncomfortable. Suddenly, you could feel the flecks of flour on your cheeks, the scent of oil and cooked meat hanging from your clothes and hair. You went back to the calculations, busying yourself with bookkeeping.

This silence was weird. Usually, Yoongi was wordlessly waiting for you to finish so he could leave, but for some reason today it felt bizarre. You furrowed your brow as you recorded the day’s sales and Yoongi’s pay, subtracting it from the total.

“That’s good, because I like you in a more than friends kind of way.”

You placed Yoongi’s pay in an envelope and held it out to him. “Here you go. I added a little bonus for helping me babysit Taehyung today.”

Your gaze locked with Yoongi’s.

Then his words really hit you.

You blinked at him and his completely neutral expression. He wasn’t taking the envelope. Instead, he tilted his head, stare penetrating through your soul. Your heartbeat was suddenly in your ears. It felt like your face was right next to the stove, flushed from the fire.

“W… what?”

Yoongi nodded as if this was the expected result. “I figured I should tell you before Taehyung attempts to run off with you.”

You blinked rapidly, the heat increasing on your face. “W… what are you talking about?” you nervously laughed, placing the envelope in the counter and sliding it to him. You shook your head, trying to dissipate the heat. “You’ve gone too far with your jokes.”

Yoongi placed a hand on the envelope.

Then he lifted himself up and over the counter, launching his entire body over it.

You started, pinning yourself back into the wall, eyes widening as his black, thick-soled boots hit the tile floor. He was wearing black jeans again, the ones with a rip on the right knee. He lifted his head, making eye contact with you once again.

“It’s not a joke.”

He looked over to the recordkeeping book and closed it for you. Took the wad of cash that was the day’s sales and tied it in a rubber band, the same way you did it every night. Placed your pen where you placed it every night, next to the pen cup and not actually in it. You watched him, somewhat fascinated that he remembered all these details despite you never thinking about your habits as you did them, either in mid-conversation with him or simply worn out from the day.

Yoongi placed the cash on the recordkeeping book and turned back to face you.

“I’m serious.”

You remembered the moments that you brushed off so easily before. Yoongi’s body hitting yours when you grabbed his cap, the way he felt pushed up against you, breath on your neck. His fingertips touching yours, making you flinch involuntarily. Him eating from your hand earlier that day. The weird silence just now when he asked you if you liked Taehyung.

Your eyes shifted uneasily.

“Well… what I supposed to say?” you asked quietly.

For a long moment, Yoongi didn’t respond. Then he smiled, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

“Nothing.”

He turned around.

But before he could walk off, before Yoongi could leave and come back in the morning, late as usual, you grabbed his leather jacket and yanked him back, spinning him back around. His lips parted, startled at your sudden movement, and you pressed your lips to his. His eyes widened.

So did yours.

The scent of leather and pine hit your nose. His lips felt soft. He tasted a little like the spicy pork you fed him earlier. It was a nearly a week after the black eye incident and it was barely noticeable anymore, with only small hints of bruising on his pale skin. He healed fast. You quickly drew back and grabbed the envelope, shoving it at him and pushing past, stunned that you did such a thing, hurriedly running to the kitchen. Or would have, if Yoongi’s arm didn’t block your exit, making you jerk back and hit him in the chest.

Now both your hands were on his black and white dress shirt, holding his pay against him.

You couldn’t look Yoongi in in the face. It was too awkward. You just stared at his neck, at the glittering silver necklaces.

“I have eyes, you know.”

You swallowed, grabbing his hand and placing it on the envelope. His fingers wrapped around yours. His other hand came up, tracing the buttons of his dress shirt. You flinched, jerking your head up as your free hand covered the one on his button placket. His silver rings felt cool against your hot palm.

“What are you doing?”

Yoongi cocked his head. You never realized how raspy and sexy his voice was until now. ‘Well, you didn’t want to look at my face, so I figured I would give you something else to look at.”

Your eyes darted from his hand to his face, flabbergasted.

“Don’t… play around,” you muttered, frowning.

Yoongi leaned down.

“I’m not.”

And now he kissed you, closing his eyes and pressing his lips against yours, sweetly but firmly, inhaling. You tried to break away, words tumbling from your lips.

“I’ve been working all day; I reek of grease,” you sputtered, but Yoongi grabbed your head and kissed you again, pressing your body against his, dusting flour onto the black leather, your body shuddering at the closeness, falling into his arms. Lips so soft they felt like pillows, not something you expected from lazy, late Yoongi.

“You smell nice,” he chuckled against your lips. “I love food. I especially love all the food you make.”

He kissed you between his words, light, feathery kisses that made you breathless.

“I should have told you every day,” Yoongi murmured. “Thank you for always packing everything so well and making my job so easy. Thank you for always making food for me and giving me the extras. Thank you for not firing me.”

You laughed a little against his lips. “You would have been fired a long time ago if you worked anywhere else.”

He kissed your forehead, a long, delicate one, far too beautiful to not be romantic. You felt your heartbeat slow to a crawl.

“I don’t want to work anywhere else,” he mumbled, so low you could barely hear him even though you were this close. “I want to stay by your side forever.”

What was this? Your hands tensed under his and he tightened his grip around your fingers.

“A little sudden for simply getting free food from your job,” you teased.

Yoongi lifted his face from your forehead, removing your hands from his chest. He turned them around, palms up, pressing his thumbs into them. Smiled down at you.

“It’s not free,” he said softly. “These hands work hard every day.”

Yoongi looked deep into your eyes.

“I never think the food you give me is free, because I see how much effort it takes to make them as delicious as they are.”

Your vision felt a little blurry for some reason.

“You should bring some to your parents. Your father would be proud of you.”

And for some reason, those words meant more to you than anything in the world.

-

“Is this vegetarian?” Yoongi asked curiously as he chewed.

“Yeah.”

He frowned a little. “I don’t like vegetables.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What are you, five?”

His eyes narrowed. “I was going to say, but I like this.”

You felt your ears burn. “Oh.”

Yoongi smirked, leaning over to kiss you, smelling like leather, silver rings glimmering in the kitchen lights.

-

3. smut.

--

masterpost

[wooyunhwa]

kingdom of welcome addiction | two

view pinned post for masterlist for links to the rest of the parts!

Genre: smut 

Pairing: demon!san x fem!reader

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: blood drinking, choking (like some serious choking you’ve been warned), crying kink, corruption kink, praise kink? idk, mentions of alcohol, virgin mc

Synopsis: When you accidentally summon a bloodthirsty demon boy to your bedroom, you form an unexpected contract with him.

A/N: Thank you for reading and comments are super appreciated as always!

It had been a few weeks since you’d last summoned San. The last time you’d seen him, he’d gone kind of crazy after tasting your blood. You couldn’t forget the darkness in his voice, his all-black eyes shining demonically as he lost it. He had left without even giving himself a chance to explain himself, he just disappeared to, well… wherever it was that demons went, you supposed.

Every so often, your hand would find its way up to check the scar where he’d punctured your neck. Honestly, you just wanted to make sure you hadn’t dreamt it all. As the days went on, you really couldn’t be sure. Eventually the scar dwindled to a faint red mark, and then to nothing at all. 

The sticky note was still pinned to the wall above your desk, taunting you every time you saw it. Each time you’d think today was the day you’d call him back, and yet, you hadn’t been able to do it.  

Until you were drunk, that is. 

You had a particularly rough day of classes. Your professor had called you out in front of the whole class for a mistake you made on an assignment, and it ripped you apart. When you got home, you had poured out a few pathetic drinks to drown the pain of the day, wanting nothing more than to curl up in your bed and disappear. But you forgot one vital thing. When you drank alone, you got sad. Like, really sad. The tears seemed to flow endlessly, and there was a point at which you even forgot why you were crying—or drinking—in the first place. 

There was a part of you that needed in that moment to not be alone, even for just a second. Embarrassed to call any of your friends over, you turned to the only companion who couldn’t turn you down.

Your demon boy.

You ripped the post-it off the wall, finally ready to use it, drunkenly singing out the Latin a few times until it was comprehensible enough to work.  

He was perched on your desk when he appeared. You stumbled back drunkenly, startled by his sudden appearance despite knowing you were summoning him. You just forgot how jarring it was. 

“Oh, you have to be kidding me,” San grumbled. You weren’t sure if he was responding to your sudden summoning, or the fact that you were leaking tears all over the place pathetically, but you couldn’t even manage to choke out a response through your blubbering. 

“This is way out of my pay grade.” He hopped off the desk, sauntering slowly in your direction. “Have you been drinking, hmm? I can smell that cheap liquor from a mile away. It’s fogging up your pretty little scent.”

You wiped the tears from your eyes pitifully. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have summoned you. You can leave.”

“I did miss your cute little human face, I suppose,” he said softly. He was standing close now, towering over you. You pulled your gaze up to meet his eyes, and he gave a gentle pet to your head. In any other situation, it would be sweet, but the look in his eyes was chilling. He looked at you like prey, a piece of meat—and yet his words dripped off his tongue like the sweetest honey. “Don’t cry, okay?” 

His thumb drew across your cheek, passing faintly over your lips, collecting tears. He brought his hand up to his tongue, licking it clean of the saltwater, not breaking eye-contact for even a second. “Virgin tears. Almost as good as the blood,” he sang, eyes rolling back in his head in a quick moment of bliss for just a moment before fixing back on your face. “Almost.”

You forgot how alluring he was, his sharp-featured face in particular. There was something magnetic about it, you couldn’t pull your gaze away no matter how intense he was. 

“So why’d you call me, hmm, darling?” He flashed his teeth villainously. “Missed my bite that much? Have something new to offer, perhaps?”

You dropped your gaze, but he tipped your chin up to meet his again almost immediately. “Look me in the eyes, darling. You’re the one that summoned me, the least you could do is give me that.”

“I shouldn’t have called you here. I shouldn’t have even thought—I should have known you wouldn’t care beyond your own interests,” you said, voice hoarse and shaky through your tears. 

He shrugged. “You’re probably right.”

“Asshole.” 

His brows furrowed. “Okay, a little uncalled for. But not entirely untrue.” He placed his hands on your shoulders, guiding you to the bed. It took only a small nudge to plop you down. You felt the effects of the alcohol wash over you. “We can make a contract. If it makes you feel better.”

“What, you’re gonna ask for my blood again?” you scoffed.

“No.”

“Then?”

“Your tears.”

You paused, considering the stakes. “Fine, take them. What do I get?”

He took a seat next to you on the plush blanket, placing a surprisingly comforting hand on your back. “I’ll listen to you. Like, uh… a demon therapist,” he smiled at you from your side, flashing his fangs cheekily. “I promise I’ll do my best to stay serious. I’m contractually obligated.”

“Fine,” you agreed, slightly annoyed at how difficult you found it to resist him. His devilish charm was too much for you—even sober, but especially drunk. 

“Tears first,” he said decidedly, and you caught a glimpse of desire spark in his eyes. 

You nodded, shuffling your butt on the bed to face him. You expected him to run his fingers over your face, like he had earlier. Instead, he brushed his thumb over the side of your face slowly, dancing along the cut of your jaw, then leaned in to brush his lips over your cheek. You flinched as his lips connected with your skin softly, and you felt the distinct wetness of his tongue brushing over the surface. He lapped at your tears through deliberate, drawn-out kisses, and the cold metal of his lip ring felt unexpectedly nice drawing over your cheek. 

His hand came around to the back of your head, lacing his fingers in your hair to steady you. It was incredibly sensual, whether he meant it to be or not. He moaned pleasurably at the taste of your tears, though he didn’t have the same animalistic hunger he seemed to have when he’d tasted your blood. Probably for the best. 

“You’re so cute when you’re crying. Like a helpless little lamb. If I weren’t supposed to be nice to you right now, I’d have a half a mind to make you cry again,” he purred against your ear. 

His other hand threaded around the small of your waist, like he’d done when he drank your blood before. And you couldn’t lie, you kind of loved it. His position was unexpectedly romantic: one hand cupped around your waist, the other laced in your hair, delivering soft kisses and licks across your cheeks. You closed your eyes to get a better idea of the sensation, fisting your hands needily in the silky fabric of his button down. 

You felt him pull away suddenly, an amused smirk dancing up on his lips. “Someone’s getting spicy. This wasn’t in our contract.” 

Fuck. Something in your mind was telling you to kiss him. Not just telling, but more like screaming at you. Fucking kiss him. His lips looked so soft and alluring, so dangerously off-limits. You leaned in slightly, magnetized by his aura, only to feel him pull away entirely. 

“Okay. I’ve had my fun,” he said. He ran a hand through his hair, roughing it up messily, giving you a perfect view at the cut of his jaw. “Now I hold up my end of the deal. You talk, I listen.”

Do we have to talk? you thought, annoyed. I’d rather just make out.

You gritted your teeth together as you tried desperately to shift your thoughts away from kissing him. But you couldn’t help but think about how his lips would taste against your lips, how his tongue would dance sinfully against yours, his fingers laced in your hair—god, what was wrong with you? It was probably all the drinks you had, making you unnecessarily sad and even more unnecessarily horny for your hot demon errand boy. You needed to get it the fuck together. 

You pushed away your fantasies for the night, as hard as that was. For the next hour or so, you lamented to him about your rough day, even going into a few things that had happened in the past week. He listened thoughtfully, carefully, though in the back of your mind you knew he was only being so attentive because he was ‘contractually obligated.’ 

You poured your heart to him, feeling incredibly vulnerable under his concentrated gaze. Though this time it wasn’t entirely predatory, but more like interested. Caring, even. You doubted that even was possible. Even so, as you talked, you felt more and more connected with him. 

For a moment, he seemed almost human. 

Summoning San became an almost nightly routine for you. 

You’d summon him, have him help you with mundane activities like homework, cleaning, cooking—whatever task you could think of to keep him around as long as possible. Of course, he couldn’t turn you down unless you didn’t have a reasonable counter to give him. 

Each time you summoned him, it seemed as though he cared less and less about the contract and seemed to enjoy your company a bit more. Not that he’d ever unveil that information to you—he always gave into your mundane proposals begrudgingly, but there was a glint in his eye that said he wanted to be there, even if he wouldn’t admit it yet. 

“You know I have other clients, right?” he’d joke. “You can’t summon me every night.”

“Oh, so you’re cheating on me?” you’d tease back. 

“Don’t worry,” he’d say with a charming wink. “You’re my favorite human.” 

“Not that there’s any competition, but you’re my favorite demon.” 

You loved the playful banter between you. He felt somehow easier to talk to than any human you’d met, perhaps because there was little to no social pressure involved. Something about your dynamic felt almost boyfriend-ish, in a way—if you could consider being a glorified errand boy a boyfriend-ish thing to do. He rarely divulged any personal information about himself, but you got to know him through the littlest things. His small habits, the things that made him laugh. 

You couldn’t believe it, but you were falling for him slowly, like some sort of pathetic schoolgirl crush. The highlight of your day was the minute you could conjure him, even just to see his face smiling in front of you, that familiar devilish grin as he appeared in your room. 

There was still something that felt entirely off-limits, though. Sure, you’d let him drink from your neck a few more times—each time he’d get better at controlling himself—but you weren’t sure how to cross the line from there. He’d been so forward on the very first night you met him. He even asked to take your virginity, which of course you outright denied. But even if it was a joke, if he was just messing with you, the idea swirled in your mind every now and again. You even dreamt of him a few times. But he hadn’t mentioned it since. 

It was late in the night. You had summoned San to do some menial house chores, as you usually did, in exchange for dinner and a back massage—something you weren’t even aware demons needed. San had explained it to you, but you still couldn’t quite wrap your head around the inhuman-soul in a human-vessel dynamic, so you chose not to question it too hard.

Today, something felt different about him. He was flirtier, sexier, more outlandishly charming than usual, if that was even possible. You watched him scrubbing your countertops like your hot demon maid—you even went so far as to dress him in an apron you spent a little too long picking out at the store—marveling at the small of his waist cinched in with the fabric tie. 

“Enjoying the view?” he teased with a playful glance over his shoulder, wiggling his hips. 

“Ugh, I was until you did that,” you joked back. “C’mon, that countertop isn’t gonna scrub itself.”

He gave his hips another shake, chuckling as you trained your gaze on his ass. “You’re so cute when you’re drooling over me. Get it together, darling. You’ve still got a massage to give.”  

He was just joking around with you, you knew that. He was probably just as charming with his other summoners, or his ‘clients’ as he called them. But he was right, you couldn’t help but drool over him. It was moments like this where you fell for him, hard, pretty much flat on your face. You wished so desperately for him to be human right now, just for a second. You wanted him to give you a sweet, squeezing hug, kissing your forehead. You wanted to feel his arms around your waist, pulling you in close. You wanted to ask him on a date. You wanted him. 

But you’d have to settle for watching him clean your house. God, what was wrong with you? You couldn’t have caught feelings for a human boy?

And now you had to give him a massage, which wasn’t going to make it any better. 

He laid himself face down on your bed, face resting gingerly against your pillow. You straddled him, setting yourself down gently on the back of his thighs. You had admittedly never given a massage before, but you weren’t going to let that stop you. Your hands explored below the hem of his shirt, lifting up slowly to reveal the soft, perfectly tanned skin underneath. You were able to get a better view of his proportions, the way his waist curved in so delicately and then up into his beautifully broad shoulders. He was fit, but not too muscular, slender, but not too thin. He was absolutely immaculate. 

You rubbed circles in his back, drawing out the sweetest moans from his lips as you massaged down on his muscles. “I may be cursed with this human body—ah—but this does feel kind of amazing,” he admitted in a voice slightly muffled by the pillows. 

You worked at his muscles until he seemed satisfied, even rolling your palms around his neck and shoulders to hear his sweet groans of pleasure. It was unbelievably enticing, and you felt dampness pooling between your legs.  

When you were done he rolled on to his stomach. You watched in awe at the rise and fall of his chest, the tip of his chin accentuating his sharp jawline. You didn’t want him to leave. 

He stood himself up from the bed, shaking his muscles out a bit before smiling cheekily, flashing his fangs as he always did. “Looks like our contract today is complete. See you tomorrow, hmm?” he winked. 

“San wait—”

“Yes?”

“I want another contract.”

He paused to contemplate, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip in thought. He cocked his pierced eyebrow up, stepping forward to close the distance between you. “What’s that, little lamb? Are you finally gonna let me take that pretty little soul?”

You swallowed, mustering up the courage to make your move. “I want you to kiss me.”

“You—what?” he sputtered, clearly caught off guard by your proposition. 

“I’m asking you to kiss me,” you repeated.

You watched his eyes go dark, slightly hooded as he trained his gaze back on you. In contrast from his lighthearted mood earlier in the day, he looked particularly lustful as his eyes found your lips. 

“So, if you want to make a contra—” 

He was on you before you could finish your sentence. His hands found your hips, squeezing tightly to pull you against him.

His lips lingered over yours, the warmth of his breath washing over you like soft waves. He didn’t stay there for long, pulling your lips against his fully. He tasted like heaven, hell, and everything in between. You craved for him as thirstily, barely coming up for air as your lips rocked slowly against each other’s. One of his hands was laced in your hair, the other steadying against your neck. For a moment, you forgot he was even a demon at all, except for the inhumanly exquisite taste of his lips.

He pulled away for only enough time to choke out his next words in a low growl. “I guess I’ll make an exception on the contract this once. Once.”

He bit playfully at your bottom lip, lightly twirling his tongue around the surface. Then harder. You yelped as his fang sunk in, tearing off a small piece of flesh. He smirked against your lips, drawing his tongue across the blood with sensual breaths. His hands came to your shoulders to swivel your hips around, backing you into the wall next to your door frame, caging you in with his body. 

“I always forget how good you taste,” he purred in your ear. He grasped at your body hungrily through your clothes, like he was ready to rip through them at any moment.

You could have stayed there forever, his body trapping you against the wall, lips on you like he would never have another chance to taste you. But he pushed away suddenly, his eyes flashing a demonic black for a moment angrily. 

“Fuck. I have to go. I’m getting another call,” he hissed through his teeth. 

“San wait I—” 

But he was gone. 

Your knees gave out under you weakly, sliding your back down the wall, staring at the empty space he had occupied. He wasn’t yours. He wasn’t your boyfriend, or even your friend. He was a demon. You couldn’t afford to forget that for even a moment. 

It was just too good to be true.

You didn’t discuss the kiss further, not for a while at least. He’d made a few passing comments on his nightly house calls, but you hadn’t dared bring it up again in conversation. However, on one night in particular, you had summoned him without purpose. You were admittedly lonely, and frankly, a bit horny. You wanted company, and he was always on call. 

“Yes, my liege?” he teased with a bow as he appeared in your room. And there was that intoxicating smile again. 

“Will you just talk to me tonight?”

“Okay, darling. And what do I get, hmm?”

“No contract.”

“You know that isn’t how this wo—” 

“I want to know you’re not just here because you have to be tonight. But if you really don’t want to be here, you can leave. You know the way out.”

He sighed heavily. “Y/N, you know this isn’t—”

“Please.” 

You saw the look on his face soften, and he gave in with a nod that said ‘fine, but just this once’.

You talked across from each other on the bed for a while, talking about anything that came to your mind, though not much about him. He mostly listened, cut in a few times with a quip or a cheeky comment, but kept his eyes trained on you with complete concentration otherwise. You actually hadn’t expected him to be such a good listener. Better than most humans you knew, anyway. You loved the moments where you caught a glimmer of humanity, although you knew that wasn’t possible. The only human thing about him was his body, after all. 

As you made conversation, your mind wandered elsewhere. You couldn’t help but admire the curve of his lips, the sharp cut of his jaw, his crimson eyes shining like rubies. You felt completely intoxicated by him, as you always did. He was entirely tempting and yet felt completely off limits, even though you had entertained many times the thought of him fucking you. The thought flickered through your head even now. You imagined every rise of the muscles in his chest, sweat glistening on his skin as he towered over you. You imagined what his dick might look like, sliding in and out of you. You imagined his lips all over your body, every curve of your skin, every inch of you from head to toe.

The tension in the room grew thick as you watched his mouth, concentrated on every movement, every flick of his tongue, the faint glimmer of his metal lip ring, the fangs glistening under his slightly parted lips. There wasn’t an ounce of subtlety in the way you watched him, and he slowly stopped moving entirely, focusing all his energy on to you again. You craved the intense heat of his gaze now—you were no longer uncomfortable with his severity, only further entranced by how it pulled you in. You were entirely in his trap. You leaned forward, initiating the kiss, and he leaned in to meet you. His tongue slid against yours, and you reciprocated fervently. He tasted incredible, and the way he moaned against your lips indicated he felt the same about you. “You’re intoxicating,” he purred, his heavy breaths sounding like music in your ears. You wanted him, entirely. Since the moment he’d first appeared you’d wanted him.

Your hands explored his chest, his arms, the small of his waist—everywhere you could touch, you did. His chest was rock-solid, a beautiful display of muscle sculpted beautifully on his core. You felt every desire you’d ever had compounding at once within you, it rocked through you like a wave: the need to be touched, held, fucked right this moment. Although you’d never done it before, at least with another person, you had plenty of experience with the vibrator in your room, and recently, with picturing San as you pleasured yourself. Either way, if you had done it with another human or not, it probably wouldn’t have even mattered—he wasn’t human at all, in fact. What he was was danger wrapped up in an alluringly human-like package.  

“I want you to fuck me, San,” you said confidently, letting the words the drip off your tongue, slowly and deliberately. 

Your bodies were nearly flush, and you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His finger traced along your jaw, a low grumble rolling up through his throat, coming up through his teeth in a hiss. “You can’t tempt me with that kind of offer,” he growled, and the way his fingers trembled as they met your skin indicated his ultimate self-control. “I don’t think you understand how I can get...”

“I saw it, San, before. Remember? I’m not scared of you,” you countered. But that last part was kind of a lie.

“I can’t,” He took a final step closer, closing any remaining gap between you. “Fuck… you don’t understand how… delicious you look to me right now,” he hissed through his teeth, his voice getting rougher and deeper as he held himself together. “I can’t help myself. It’s like some sort of animal instinct.”

“San, please. I can handle it. You even admitted you wanted my virginity the day we met.”

“I was joking back then… sort of. I might be soulless, but I’m not heartless. I couldn’t hurt you.” He gritted his teeth, restraining his heavy, lusted breaths.

“So you don’t want to?”

“Fuck, I do… I do more than anything. Every time I look at you I picture myself destroying you—”

“Then do it.”

“Gah, you—fuck.” He planted a few restrained kisses down the sensitive skin of your neck. He dragged his fangs along the taut flesh, threatening to sink them in. “I can try to hold myself back. No promises.” 

“Please, San,” you whined. Your hands fisted the silky fabric of his shirt, drawing his chest as close to yours as possible. 

“Mmf,” he grunted against your neck, digging his nails into your waist hungrily. “Fuck, you taste like a drug.” He pulled back, his eyes darker now. His usually crimson irises looked nearly black in his state of temptation, so much so that you could barely make out the whites of his eyes. He looked more like a demon than ever before, the wicked aura almost possessing him. He shook his head, as if trying to purify himself. “I can’t—I’m gonna hurt you. Don’t do this to me, I’m not going to be able to—” 

You pulled down the collar of your shirt, revealing your shoulders and a hint of your chest. His eyes went hungry, trained on the soft curve of your collarbone lustfully, wickedly. “I’m giving my body to you, please... Take it.” 

His voice was a low growl, and he seemed to be restraining himself with everything he had left. Thick, enraged veins bulged from his forearms as he grasped at your waist. “I’m telling you, I’m going to lose control… you’re not gonna recognize me.”

“I know. San, please. I’m asking you to take my virginity.”

He finally snapped under your words, his eyes almost fully consumed with black now. His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking gently at the soft skin around it. His desperate clawing nearly tore the fabric of your shirt from your skin as his kisses feasted on you hungrily. You tipped your head back, his lips and tongue eliciting soft moans from you as they danced along the top half of your chest.

His voice was so deep now it nearly rumbled, barely sounding like the San you knew. “You’re delicious—fuck—even better than I remember.” 

His hands pushed you back against the pillows with more strength than he probably meant to use, nearly knocking the wind out of you with his force. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, and you yelped in surprise at the sting of his teeth in your flesh. You felt the distinctly wet and all-too-familiar sensation of blood as the canines pierced your skin. He licked it clean, his whole body shaking with desire as your blood washed over his tongue. He sang the most beautiful moans you’d ever heard into your skin, lapping up every last drop clean from where he’d punctured you. 

You had grown addicted to the sensation of his teeth on your skin and his tongue licking up the blood, like some sort of weird demon-vampire fetish you had never considered before. You laced your fingers in his hair as he worked his way down your chest, tearing away the fabric of your shirt apart with his hands like it was a wet piece of paper, and he didn’t stop until the mess of torn fabric that used to be your shirt slipped off of you easily. His lips kissed and marked your breasts as he worked his way down, then ripped off your pants with the same distinct sound of fabric being torn through like it was nothing. 

His dark eyes gleamed hungrily as he met your gaze. He used his tongue sinfully between your thighs, teasing you mercilessly as he kissed and licked around the seam of your panties. You were soaking wet now, the fabric of your underwear entirely drenched from the anticipation. Not just from today, but from the past few weeks of fantasizing about him completely wrecking you. His fangs gripped into the wet fabric, nearly taking your skin with it as he pulled your panties out from between your legs—the only piece of clothing he hadn’t entirely torn off.

“What a cute little human pet,” he purred seductively in your ear, dragging his fingernails across the cut of your jaw. You winced as he drew his hand over your freshly bitten wound. “It’s too bad your blood won’t be so sweet after I’m done with you, hmm, darling? Maybe just one more time, hmm?”

You felt his teeth sink down into your shoulder, and he pulled you entirely flush against him as he bit down with more ferocity than before. You cried out against him as he slipped his tongue delicately over the wound. His hungry grip around your waist grew tighter with every lick. 

“San—ah—” you cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure as he soothed your wound with his tongue, hands coming up to squeeze your breasts.

“I could drain you right here,” he growled harshly, but there was still lust coating his words. You felt his dick harden in his pants as he pulled his teeth from your skin, leaving the aching sting of the fresh wound on your collarbone. You felt a bit dizzy now, not only with lust but also from losing quite a bit of blood to his tongue. He stood up suddenly, stripping like clothes meant nothing to him, ripping them off and tossing them to the floor. His breathing was less like breaths and more like throaty grunts. You were able to marvel at his naked body for only a second before he climbed on top of you, forcing you to lie completely flat under him, his broad shoulders closing you in completely.

“Such a cute human,” he praised, marveling at your smallness, your complete powerlessness beneath him. You couldn’t move if you wanted to, his body caged you in from all sides—it’s a good thing you didn’t want to. His eyes were intense, predatory, but not entirely possessed like he had been before just at the mere taste of your blood. You were surprised by his restraint he seemed to be holding on to. “Tiny, powerless… I want to hear you beg for me,” he purred into your ear. As he awaited your response, he lapped gently at the wounds he’d made earlier, collecting the remaining blood on his tongue with a needy moan.  

“Please, San—” you started apprehensively, unsure of exactly what he wanted from you. Your voice cracked slightly as you spoke, and heat rose in your cheeks. 

He clicked his tongue twice. “Tsk, tsk. I forgot, she’s too pure for this.” 

“Fuck me. Please—” 

“That’s better darling.”

“I want your cock, please, San.”

“I don’t want to hurt you baby, but you’re too fucking tempting. So cute and helpless beneath me.” He drew one of his hands lightly across your chest, dragging his fingers along every curve. “Begging. Embarrassed. It’s adorable.”

His hand drew over your stomach. Hips. Thighs. Then, finally, between your legs, delivering a small, fleeting taste of the pleasure you’d been searching for all night. You bucked your hips up involuntarily under his touch, and he drew his hand back teasingly. His eyes, hooded with desire, were fixed on your face, reveling in every reaction, every small noise that crept up through your throat. Darkness crept through them, nearly entirely black now. He looked like a real demon. 

“What a naughty girl. Practically dripping for me. I thought you were pure, hmm? What happened?” he sang condescendingly, a smirk twitching up on his lips. “Be a sweet little pet for me now.” 

He pushed his hips flush with yours, his cock aligning up against you. A low growl ripped through his throat, digging his fingernails into the sheets with a terrifying display of force. “This is probably gonna hurt, darling,” he purred. “Look me in the eyes. I want to see your cute little face as I ruin you.” He tipped your chin up to meet his eyes just as he rutted his hips in for the first time. 

The tip slipped in easily, but you couldn’t help but wince at the sensation. You’d tried toys before, but nothing could compare to the size—or feeling—of the real thing. “Ah—ah San, it—it kind of hurts,” you whined, your face twisting a bit as he pumped a few times, slowly and shallowly. He watched your face with blackened eyes. 

“You have no idea—” Thrust. “How hard—” Thrust. “It is to—” Thrust. “Keep myself from destroying you.” 

Your broken cries echoed loudly as his mouth came down on your wounds once again, delivering wet, desperate licks at the bloody remnants of the punctures he created. It stung harshly, and a single tear escaped your eyes. He pulled away from your chest, positioning himself completely upright, dick still halfway inside of you. You got a good look at his hard chest, an immaculate display of muscle. An unidentifiable tattoo snaked down his right side. He looked almost statuesque poised above you. 

“Such pretty tears. My little lamb,” he praised with a low growl, sinking his fingernails into the flesh of your thighs. “Fuck—tell me I can ruin you—” his fingernails dug deeper.

You nodded, urging him on. You initiated it, you wanted it, even if he scared you a bit with his harsh gaze and his tightening grip threatening to mark up your skin. “Yes. Please.” With a single thrust he bottomed out inside you entirely, eliciting a sharp cry from your lips. You tossed your head back, but you could still feel the heat of his stare following your every moment, taking in every curve and scar of your body. “Good little human,” he praised, stroking your thighs as he thrust in again. Every movement he made overwhelmed your senses entirely—a lethal mix of the sting of your wounds, the sensitivity of his hands exploring your thighs, the feeling of his dick stretching out inside you, and finally, how much you craved him. 

His hand came up to your throat, latching on to it with a steady viced grip. His eyes went hooded, hungry as he squeezed the air from your lungs. Harder. Tighter. His fingers viced around your neck with dizzying force. You squirmed beneath him, clawing at his hand desperately. TV static buzzed in your brain, and the world went blurry. You just barely caught a glimpse of his black eyes fading back to red before your vision slipped away into darkness. 

Your eyes shuttered open to the familiar image of your ceiling. You recognized you were in your own bed, fully clothed, tucked under the covers neatly. Before you could survey your surroundings, San’s face was above you, eyebrows slightly furrowed, tilting his head as he looked down at you. You’d never seen his eyes so soft.

“Look, she’s awake.” His voice was calmer than usual, warmer. “How do you feel?”

“Like hell,” you croaked, voice hoarse as you choked out your words. 

“I don’t say this often...” he started, placing a hand on your head. “But I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have even done that in the first place. I went too far.”

“I—what happened—”

“You blacked out. I, uh, well... I choked you until you passed out. I told you, it’s hard for me to control myself like that.” 

“Did you—”

“Of course not,” he interjected, not even letting you finish. He knew what you were implying. “As soon as you stopped moving it snapped me out of it.”

You dropped your gaze, recalling how you saw his black eyes turn to normal right before you lost consciousness. “Right. Uh… thanks.”

“I like my prey fresh, anyways. It’s not fun when I can’t watch them squirm.” And there it was. His devilish smile again. His tongue twitched across his lower lip, playing with his lip ring absentmindedly. He quickly cleared his throat when he saw the unamused expression on your face. “I hope… uh, I hope at least you were having fun before—you know.”

You nodded in response as you tried to sit upright in the bed. Bad idea. Your vision went dizzy, and a rush of pain pounded through your skull. “Ah—ow, fuck.”

“Should I get you some water or something? Whatever it is that humans want when they hurt.” 

You rolled your eyes at his pointedly un-human response. “Sure, water sounds fine.”

He retrieved you a glass from the kitchen, setting it on the nightstand. “I hate to do this, but I’ve been here for way too long,” he started hesitantly. You could see the regret in his eyes. “Without a contract too. I could get in trouble for this.”

“It’s fine, you can go,” you muttered. “I could use some sleep right now anyway.” 

He nodded quietly, administering a small, strangely awkward pat to your head. “Right. Well, uh… get some sleep.” 

You barely blinked before he was gone, but it didn’t matter anyway. You were asleep before you could even take a sip of the water he’d gotten you. 

[obikinn]

anakin’s armor kink

a very loose interpretation of the prompt “obi-wan in mando armor” on new sw canon this week. written for @shelton-devers​ who is now legally obligated to watch the rest of the prequel trilogy.

i wrote this in an hour, don’t think about it too hard, lol. slightly spicy content under the cut:

Anakin was so used to sauntering into Obi-Wan’s quarters at any time of the day that he never bothered to knock anymore. After Anakin’s knighting, Obi-Wan had pressed the keys to his rooms into Anakin’s hands with a smile and a promise that he was welcome whenever.

When Obi-Wan said that, he likely hadn’t expected Anakin to spend more time in Obi-Wan’s quarters than his own, but he never told Anakin to leave, thankfully. Sometimes Anakin would start to drift off while drinking tea and gossipping at odd hours of the night, and Obi-Wan would let them curl up together in his bed. They never spoke of it, but Anakin secretly cherished those nights most of all, memorizing the safety and warmth he felt wrapped up in Obi-Wan’s arms.

So when Anakin strolled into Obi-Wan’s quarters one afternoon after dueling practice with only a “What’s up, old man?” to announce his presence, he choked on his words when he noticed a red beskar-clad stranger sitting at the table with no Obi-Wan to be seen. Out of instinct and likely leftover adrenaline from sparring, his hand flew to his lightsaber at his side.

The Mandalorian startled and stood up from his seat. “Relax, Anakin, it’s only me,” a familiar voice said, and Anakin sighed in relief when he realized he could only sense Obi-Wan’s calming golden presence in the Force. That didn’t mean he was prepared for the moment that Obi-Wan took off his helmet.

Anakin’s soul nearly jumped out of his body as he stared at Obi-Wan, forcing his jaw not to drop. His usually put-together hair swooped over his forehead, just the right amount of dishevelled from the heart. His cheeks were flushed meiloorun red, glistening with a slight sheen of sweat. The Mandalorian armor hugged Obi-Wan’s body perfectly, much more revealing than his typical endless layers of Jedi robes. The crimson red of the beskar contrasted perfectly with Obi-Wan’s skin tone, and accentuated the crystal blue of his eyes.

Anakin had always appreciated his Master’s beauty and had pined away even while he was wrapped in beige, but this was a sight like no other. Obi-Wan practically emanated danger dressed in armor, and Anakin’s blood thrummed. He felt like he was overheating in his own robes, and noticed with a gulp that his cock was beginning to harden.

As much as Anakin tried to force himself to look away, his eyes were locked onto how the enticing column of Obi-Wan’s neck led into the sharp lines of the beskar. He cursed himself as his cock throbbed, and he tried to kickstart his brain into functioning again. Words faded away before they could tumble off of his tongue.

“Is everything alright, dear one?” Obi-Wan asked, and Anakin only flushed more horribly in response. The smooth tones of Obi-Wan’s accent combined with the endearment did nothing to reduce his arousal, and not for the first time, Anakin thanked the Force for how well Jedi robes hid inconvenient erections.

After an uncomfortably long pause, Anakin remarkably managed to remember how to form words into sentences.  “Master, uh, why are you, er… why are you wearing this?” he stuttered out, gesturing at Obi-Wan’s everything.

Obi-Wan furrowed his eyebrows. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I performed in a historical play for the crechelings,” he explained, which did sound vaguely familiar to Anakin. His brain was still too busy malfunctioning at the sight of Obi-Wan in armor to truly recall any particular conversation. “I just got back a few minutes ago and thought it would be a fun surprise for you.” It definitely was a surprise, but Anakin wasn’t sure he would call it fun, as he furiously tried to think about anything but how his pants were starting to get uncomfortably tight.

“Are you sure everything’s alright? You don’t look well, could I make you some tea and check your temperature?” Obi-Wan reached forward to place his palm against Anakin’s forehead but Anakin leaped backwards from the skin-to-skin contact, skittish and oversensitive.

“Yeah, Master, I’m fine, no need to worry about me! I just remembered I have this, uh, thing to do and you don’t want me to be late, so I’m just going to head out, yeah,” Anakin babbled as he quickly made his retreat, burning with shame as he practically sprinted out of the room.

[sirensmojo]

“Remember The Missing” - Ivar The Boneless x Reader x Ubbe

Summary: You're sent to Kattegat by your uncle for settling a deal with King Ragnar. No need to mention as soon as your feet touch the dry ground, it's the Ragnarsons' eyes you caught.

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless x Reader x Ubbe (but All the Ragnarsons make an appearance)

Warnings: fluff, light smut, angst at the end

Word Count: 3,394

*Masterlist*

The brothers didn't have the same taste when it comes to women. Whenas Ivar and Sigurd fell for thralls, Hvitserk for simple woman, Ubbe for athletic shieldmaiden, when you dropped off the boat, their mouth surely dropped too. That's the first thing that caught your eyes, four tall men, dressed in fur, clean and braided hair with eyes as blue as the sky. Those piercing eyes were pointed right at you, although you were quite used to being stared at. From your tamed hair falling perfectly around your face shape, highlighting your complexion to your reddened cheeks from the cold that underlined Y/C eyes, making your pupils scintillate, every detail seemed to mesmerize them.

Once out of the boat, you readjusted your large and dark cloak that didn't allow the Vikings to check up on your body features but they'd bet their life everything about it was perfect. Your eyes sweep the areas without dawdling on things, as you found out what you looked for. You started to walk towards them, each of your step arousing their desire deep into their core, and stopped in front of them.

"King Ragnar, I surmise," your soothing voice purred in their ears like honey. You held your hand to the man and instead of shaking it, he pecks your fingers.  You slightly raised your brows but didn't make any comments.

You soon noticed the stares still on you and glanced at the men standing beside the King, tilting your head to the side in curiosity, the rumors were true. Men of the North were, indeed, handsome. Their features, the care accorded to their looks, even your nostrils betrayed you, as they curled up a little, their spicy wooded smell fondling your nose. "Here are my sons, from right to left: Ivar The Boneless, Hvitserk, Sigurd Snake In The Eye, and Ubbe." The bearded men spoke, lifting the veil on the identity of your seemingly new fans. You didn't miss how the four pairs of eyes have been devouring you but chose to ignore it for the sake of the alliance. Thus your clenched jaws indicated your displeasure.You had quite a temper, that was the exact reason why you were the one sent by your uncle. He tried many times to tame your ways... In vain. Although you promised him this time, you'll behave on behalf of everything he has done for you since the death of your late mother.

"I'm Y/n Of Stilfhel, pleasure is mine." You quickly bowed, gripping onto your dress for it not to meet the soil. The ragnarsons remained silent, not that you expected something else from them, seeing how focused they were to ogle you. You knew better. Everywhere you walked, people would stare at you, In your own kingdom it was because of your status, or so you'd like to believe. In foreign countries, you accepted it was because, for some reason, men found you pleasurable to look at. No need to mention that whenever you'd open your mouth, they would instantly lose interest in you, for you sounded nothing like a princess. When it wasn't you cursing, the problem was the topics on which you conversed. War, fights, battles, swords, economics, trading.

No men of your homeland needed or wanted a woman that had an opinion of everything.

But you were no princess, indeed, your uncle took you as his own daughter at the request of your mother back on her deathbed. This was her last wish, and your uncle being a good man led to you living in the palace without having the weight of duties on your shoulders. Maybe you grew too comfortable, thought your uncle at first, but he soon enough found out it was only you being you.

***

Once installed in the Great Hall, you take off your cloak and give it to the thrall waiting for it, exposing a beautiful azure dress made out of thick fabric. A single thin leather belt tightened it at your waist, revealing your curved hips and generous chest. Your sober dress didn't need any jewels or extravagance as your own body was already doing the job. An abnormal cut departing from your thighs down to your ankles betrayed your cover of "naive princess". If only they knew under that dress was hidden tones of small weapons, that thought making you smile. The man sat right in front of you did not miss any of your lips curling up as you brushed down your hands on the side of your dress, trying to hide the cut you made.

Traveling in that get-up was far from comfortable, you had to do something, right?

You thank the thrall with a small smile and finally sat down. "Is everything alright?" Asked Ragnar at the sight of your grimace. You forced a smile and nodded, "Yeah, of course. Everything's fine, my King" you succeed at answering. Glancing quickly around the table you slide your hands under your dress and straightens both your legs, trying to grab the hilt of your swords that buried itself into your ribs. When Hvitserk and Ivar abruptly turned their head towards you, both confused and satisfied, you firstly ignore them, but as your fingers finally grip onto your sword, their stare only grew more ravenous. At this exact instant, you understood what was happening, you were playing footsie with both of them. Your left foot caressing the inside thigh of Hvitserk whereas your right one got dangerously close of Ivar's core. A nervous rictus drew on your lips as you thought of something to get out this situation. You completely slump on the table to bridge the gap between your palm and the handle of your sword. Once you got it, you slowly push it out the piece of leather holding it and slide her against your bare skin before placing her on the ground. You fold your feet back to their initial position. Ivar was still looking at you, lips slightly parted with astonishment and desire twinkling in his eyes whereas Hvitserk's look was less shy in demonstration of what was going on in his mind.

"I've heard tones of stories about you Y/n," Ragnar let out as he motioned to a thrall to fill your cup with ale. Your eyes dawdled on the cup, as you kept your bottom lips in between your teeth. "Of me?" You faint not to know what he was talking about. "How so?" You added, your eyes still fixed on the liquid purring down in the container. If you start drinking now, you'll still be there in the morning, completely drunk but still wanting more ale. You will not be able to control yourself anymore, and the pretty princess will be gone."That you'd never been beaten by ale," The king continues with a defying tone. "Oh yeah? You're sure it's about me?" You raised a brow at him, glancing at the people around the table. You'd be ready to receive ugly stares by now, but they didn't come, to your surprise. Usually, as soon as someone used to put that subject on the table when with your uncle, grimaces could be seen on the surrounding faces while murmurs could be heard. 

Here, stares were fixed on you, but without any grimaces nor disgusted sounds. The men around the table were quite intrigued, maybe they didn't know what their father spoke about. You grabbed the cup hungrily, some of its content escaping the cup to drop on the oak table. You sipped a mouthful of liquor, squinting your eyes at the feelings of the liquid spreading into your body.

"Y/n Of Stilfhel, there's only one, isn't it?" Ragnar bantered as you finished your cup sooner said than done. You glanced at the thrall standing near the doors and motioned her to come. Once she presented herself before you, you carefully took off her hands the carafe and spill some more liquid into your cup. "So you heard about my superpower," you nonchalantly replied. "You must've traveled a lot to have found out. I've never put my feet on that ground before." You pointed the spot with your cup. "I have, but let's not dawdle on my idle stories, please tell us more about your presence here." "It is said, the agreement you share with my uncle must be sealed someway," Hearing your words, the heart of the men surrounding you fluttered. The first thing they thought about when hearing "sealing"  was marriage. Of course, it was. Why else letting a princess journey by herself to a foreign country?

They glanced at their father, then at you. Soon their eyes flickered from on to another's face. It was to who will seduce you first. You were a challenge atop of being a mystery. 

***

Ubbe leaned in your ear and murmured a joke about Sigurd, which make you choked on your drink. You glanced at the poor target of the man sitting beside you and shook your head both sides giggling. He instantly scowled at his brother, wondering what he could've said. Minutes passed before Hvitserk dared to approach you, he tried to be subtle but, hard luck for him, you weren't that naive. He fainted to join your side of the table to serve himself some more ale, glancing at you here and there. This whole scene made you laugh but you tried to muffle it, as you didn't want to lose all the fun. "Is the ale good?" He tried. "I don't know, you tell me," you raised your brows, as he neared his cups to his lips. He chuckled as he sips some of his drink. "How is that you're never drunk?" "Gods, believe me, I am, most of the time, but I can stand still, even play strategic games!" You heartedly let out as you leaned toward him. "Yeah? We should test that then, I'll wait right in my seat for you to come when you'll be very drunk," he winces at you as he got up from the chair beside you. "Count on it," you flirted back with a soft voice. You attentively followed his moves until some lips encountered your ear. Ubbe, this man really wasn't afraid of anything, his extreme proximity surprisingly warmed you up. Even if wasn't winter yet, the nights were cold, your skin being very sensitive did not help.

"I bet a night with you he'll be sleepy drunk in exactly 4 more cups," the man mutters in your neck, as a shiver spread from your back to your arms. Gods only know how, but he noticed it, looking down and grabbing your hands in his. "Bet held," you exhaled, trying to get away from his grip, but he didn't let go. Your eyes go to both his hands squeezing yours to his face. You didn't realize how close he was, only few inches away. If he turned his head to you at this precise moment, your lips would practically touch. The warmth emanating from his fondles spread to both your arm before dangerously nearing your guts, the center of your aroused desire. Now that he was so close, you noticed the straightness of his jaw, the plumpness of his lips, and how soft his skin seemed to be. When he turned his face, you managed to slip your hands out his grip and move your head backward, a nervous laugh escaping your gritted teeth. He was more than enticing, no doubt.

But you didn't come for that...

Speaking of your duty, your brows knitted as your eyes were searching the place for Ragnar. He wasn't there anymore. "Told you," Ubbe chuckled pointing out his little brother Hvitserk, face down to the table. "Yeah, he seems a bit dead, but I guess he's okay. At least, I hope," you grimaced, tilting your head. You needed to get some fresh air, some hours ago you were in a boat, almost alone, only with a few guards that your uncle forced you to bring and now you were surrendered by a bunch of handsome men. You excused yourself to Ubbe and walk perfectly fine to the doors. The man slid his head to the side, his mouth forming an "o", as he watched you walk away. He was more looking at your body than anything, your curves bouncing from a foot to the other. Once out, you exhaled deeply, closing your eyes a few seconds. "A bit overwhelmed?" you heard a voice, knocking you out the bubble you were in. "I'm not going to lie," you admitted, looking down. "I see you can stand as straight as if no ale oozed in your system. So it was what my father was talking about," "I know you can do better than that." You cut him off, making Ivar turns his head to yours, while you were looking faraway before you. "Huh?" He pondered, still gazing at you. "I love to talk about battles and war. Not about me being okay with drinking ten dozens of cups of ale," you confessed. "Than I wondered what you were talking about with my brother," he bluntly let out, shrugging. "He's got some move" you tried to convince him. He perfectly understood you were talking about Ubbe's ability to seduce women and riposted as soon as your words left your throat. He certainly knew what he was talking about. "Oh, I don't doubt that. I only thought you wouldn't let yourself be trapped in it," "I'm not," "So why you got out?" "I--I..." you stuttered, without being able to invent anything. Perhaps the ale was starting to get to your head.

"My name's Ivar, not 'I--I'," he mimicked your pout and voice. You hassled to chuckle and nudged him. "Stilfhel is an interesting name," Ivar let out, loudly breathing out. "As interesting as Y/n?" You gauge his reaction with a small smile at the corner of your lips. "See, you are flirty with me now,"

"Arrrgh, you're too quick for me," you faked being offended. "I bet you knew the way of sealing the alliance between both our lands have nothing to do with marriage." He nodded to himself, slowly understanding your games. "True, but I couldn't restrain myself to play a little with the minds of your brothers..." You paused, closely looking at the Viking. A genuine smile brightened your face, your eyes crinkled. "I'm glad it didn't get on you,"

"Sigurd didn't try anything,"

"Because he saw Hvisterk kind off failing," You tilted your head to him, only to encounter his eyes. They were as blue as your dress. You soon drown into them as he didn't move his stare. "Ivar The Boneless, right?" "Hmm," he agreed, clearing his throat. "I'll remember it," you mutter for yourself.

***

You tried to remember the words of the thrall when you asked her about the chamber of the Prince. You were drunk, the ale was deeply rooted in your system, but that doesn't stop you from walking through the corridors before you opened a door. "Y/n? Wha--t" "Shhh", you responded as you got closer the bed. You finally crawled into it, dangerously getting nearer the man. As you approached, Ubbe leaned his back on his pillows, intently watching your gestures. You finally got on top of him, leaning onto his chest, your lips dropping feverish kisses on his lower belly. His eyes didn't leave yours, he was concentrated in the twinkle in your eyes as if he looked away, you'll vanish in a cloud of smoke. You slowly started to kiss your way up to his neck, which you bite before playing with his skin in between your teeth. His silent groans directly reached your ears making your desire for him grew stronger each time his hoarse voice resonated in your head.  When you straddled him, after benching up your dress to your hips, he exhaled deeply, relieved the space between you has been filled. His hands ceased your hips, slowly sliding to your ass as he nuzzled his way to your face, making you look at him. Your mouth was open, your eyes getting lost together. "You're so beautiful," he slurred, incapable of letting go of your stare. "You're even more," you offered him a smile that made his heart skip a beat.  He swiftly crashed his lips on yours, making moan. He kneaded your skin with so much strength, you were sure to found bruises wherever he touched later.  You ground down on him, feeling his growing bump right in between your tighs, where you were already ready for him.

***

After you make out, Ubbe directly fell asleep, you didn't know if it was because of your little sport session or the alcohol. Whatever, you weren't asleep, unlike you. It wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you needed more than sex. You planned on going back to your room, but instead, you stopped before another door, his door. You remember the blue of his eyes, his expression when you were face to face around the table earlier, and the way he articulated your name: with such harmony and softness. You pushed open the door, entering a total black room, "Ivar?" you ask loudly, making sure the door was closed behind you before asking for him.  At first, you were welcomed by a silence, but as your eyes got used to the darkness, you could glimpse of two light sparkles turned right at you. "I--hum..." you couldn't find the right words, how did you find yourself so nervous when not even an hour ago you were entering Ubbe's chamber so confidently? "Can I stay with you?" your voice echoed in the room as if it was empty. Still no response. You moved forward the bed, aiming at the opposite side of where you glimpsed the scintillating eyes. "I take that as a yes," you continued to talk, even if he didn't want you or even talk to you, you couldn't help but feel the need to be in his company again. "I'm coming under the furs, alright? Welcome me there." you encouraged him. "You lied," he finally spoke. You were shifting your body inside of the shits, under the furs when you stopped in track. Did he recognize you? "Earlier you said you never put a foot down this soil, you lied," he finished, quite bluntly.

You wanted to speak but the saliva in your mouth was too thick, even making it hard to swallow. You gave-up your chance to give him an explanation. 

"I knew I already saw your face before, not too long ago actually. You left me waiting for something that would've never happened," his tone was firm but not angry. "Why?" His voice broke to silence. "I knew I wasn't staying for long, I didn't want you to wait for me. You were supposed to forget me, Ivar..." You murmured, without trying to justify yourself. "How could I forget what I gave you, what we shared?" "I don't know," you allowed."Me neither, but still you lied to me back then, about your name, your status, everything!"

"I didn't lie when I came sneaking close to your body every night. I didn't lie when we were meeting in secret in the woods to look at the sunsets and lying on our back watching the forms of the clouds," you lowly let out as you got closer to his chest. Your palm patted his torso before going up to his cheek. Now you're holding his face so his eyes stick with yours, unable to escape from your hold, just like you used to two years ago. "When my uncle asked for a messenger I volunteered," you started to be swoon. His ablaze stare would kill you right now if they could. Instead, Ivar lifted his rough and huge hand to your face, wiping away the few tears that have filled up your eyes. "I wanted to see you again, feel you again..." you added as he pulled your head toward his bare chest. Your eyes closed, and your mind eased in less than a minute, soothed by the rhythm of the Viking's heartbeats. 

"Don't leave," he managed to articulate despite the nervousness inhabiting him at this instant. His arms closed around your weak body as he held you tightly against him, to your greatest pleasure.

Ivar Permanent Tag: @youbloodymadgenius​

[alittlestarling]

25. for one muse to give the other a lap dance or strip tease for Roz/Rolfe!

Anyways, I finally finished another prompt, putting some of it under a cut because it's mildly spicy.

Her fingers tangle in his hair, mouth hovering over Rolfe’s as he leans down for a kiss that doesn’t come. “Sit down,” Roz can’t keep the mirth from her tone, ghosting her lips against his jaw with a teasing smirk. Her hand presses against his chest, giving him a gentle nudge down onto the settee in his room.

Of course, for the sake of propriety they had been given separate rooms. Rumors of the Inquisitor taking a mage as a lover wasn’t exactly what the Orlesians wanted to know. That had flown out the window once Roz had been announced as Rolfe’s consort just this evening. The whispers had been overwhelming but, now that peace had been promised and all parties were behaving, Roz no longer cares what the courtiers thought earlier.

She glances to the side, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. For a moment, she’s not certain who stares back.

The woman in the mirror looks like Roz, though perhaps as she might have looked in another life. Her dark red hair, sharpened by dyeing it before they had left Skyhold, is twisted and pinned into place with artful strands escaping to frame her face. Jeweled studs in her ears, a statement necklace, and a fancy ring or two had been given on loan, though nothing compares to the gown she had changed back into following their final excursions away from the ballroom.

It clings to her body, far tighter than she’s used to; most clothes Roz picks are utilitarian and to find ways to keep herself as inconspicuous as possible. Tonight she had stood apart when entering the ballroom again, gossamer skirts appearing in stark contrast to a tightly-fitted bodice with jewels sewn into it. Vivienne had reminded her to hold her head high, words she tries to hold tight to now as Rolfe gazes back at her in the privacy of his rooms.

“What do you have in mind?” Rolfe’s voice cuts through her silence, his blue eyes following her every movement. He appears relaxed, but there’s always something taut about his muscles, never quite relaxing even when they’re alone. As though he’s always taking her in, looking for little clues to anything she’s not saying. Once a spy, she thinks wrly, always a spy.

Roz smiles, lifting one hand as she lets loose a small, rippling spell, dimming the candles but decidedly not snuffing them out.

Tonight she is brave, even when her hands shake at the clasp of the necklace settled against her throat. “You simply sit back,” Roz murmurs, her breath hitching slightly at the intensity in his gaze, “and enjoy the show.”

That has his attention and, while he’s known for picking up on all the subtleties, Roz has begun to understand his. Rolfe shifts in his seat, alert in the dim lighting. It still amazes her that he only has eyes for her, that the flaws she’s picked apart in the mirror are pieces of her that he adores. To know that he looks at her and feels desire.

It feels wrong to simply drop the jewels, but part of her is tired of the extravagance this place has in excess. Instead, she decidedly lets the necklace slip to the floor with a soft clink, followed by the earrings as they land heavily on the marble floor.

“Don’t tell Vivienne I did that,” Roz tries to lighten the mood a bit, her heart hammering in her chest at the heat from Rolfe’s gaze, her fingers working along the side of the bodice where the dress clasps had been added so she can do this herself.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Rolfe lets out a soft, huffing laugh, but his gaze doesn’t waver. Roz catches his lips parting, tongue peeking out a moment to wet his lips, and the thought that he might use that mouth to devour her later sends a shot of heat straight between her legs.

The clasps release and Roz feels like she can breathe fully for the first time since slipping into it. Angry, red creases line her sides and across her chest where it’s held her in place; Roz can’t stop the thought that skitters across her mind just before she allows the dress to slip from her. All of these marks are meant to make her smaller, to shrink her to a size more palatable for the Orlesian court. In a way, she’s certain it’s another way to make her appealing to stand beside Rolfe, too.

That’s enough of that. Roz bites back the thought, chasing it away with the look of pure adoration on Rolfe’s face as she lets the fabric of the skirts pool, the heavy bodice peeling away from her skin. The dress doesn’t lend well to wearing anything supportive on top, her cheeks flushing as she stands in her smalls and stockings, every inch of her stomach, her breasts, her arms out for him to view without hindrance.

“Roz-” Rolfe sounds pained as she bends, not sure how to artfully unhook the garter holding the stockings up past her knee. Yet, as her fingers undo the clasp sewn into the garter, she casts a look to her side. Rolfe doesn’t sit lazily, gaze narrowed upon her, shifting slightly as she catches the barest hint of his own desire in the tight pants of the dress suit he’d put on.

“Do you want me?” On stocking pools on the floor, another quickly follows as she pushes against the nerves that flutter in her chest.

“Yes,” He rasps in response.

“How badly?” Roz takes a few steps backward, lifting her chin playfully in invitation. Rolfe knows how to read the room, standing from his chair, trailing ever so slightly behind each step.

“More than I can express.”

Love me. The words sit on her tongue, biting those back before they can escape and spoil the moment. Instead, she offers a soft smile, humming a low note under her breath as she reaches into her hair, artlessly pulling pins from the elaborate updo. The pins fall to the floor, red locks freely tumbling to just beyond her shoulders. “I suppose,” she murmurs, turning her back to him, glancing over her shoulder with a little smirk when her fingers find the dainty ties on either side of her smalls, “you’ll simply have to show me.”

[bidoldaccount]

Erase All The Downsides - TWO

Word Count: 1,545

Warnings: there is a sexual scene between Dean and Lisa wherein Dean does not express his discomfort and ultimately has some negative, potentially triggering feelings. I will out a note before that scene begins. 

Intro ; ONE ;

"Dean!" The shout made him flinch. He looked up from his phone, everything slightly blurry before he focused in on who said his name. Lisa was staring at him, chuckling softly at his disorientation.

"Sorry, what?" He rubbed at his eyes, shutting his phone off.

"I asked what we should do for dinner. Sam and Jess wanted to check out that Italian place downtown, but I know you're a bit wiped from the event and the song writing, so I suggested we just do dinner here," she said.

"Yeah, here sounds good. I'll um, fire up the barbeque? We can cook those hamburgers sitting in the fridge?" He asked.

"Oo, I always love seeing you behind that thing, looking all manly and whatnot," she stood up from the couch and kissed his forehead. "I'll prep the sides like a little housewife, how domestic of us," she laughed. He forced a laugh of his own but his eyes fell shut tiredly. He didn't get up for a few more seconds, just listening to Lisa greeting Jess on the phone as she started pulling things out for a salad. He only knew because she was asking Jess which dressing she should use.

Dean pulled himself up from the couch with a grunt, shuffling his way into the kitchen to get the hamburger meat out of the fridge. He prepped it quickly, seasoning it the way he always does, adding a little less paprika because Lisa had said he put too much last time. She was right, Sam had scrunched his nose too, then again they both think Hot Cheetos are spicy. He puts a dash more then mix it all together to start forming the patties.

Sam and Jess showed up as he was flipping the first batch and popping open his second beer.

"Hey man, Jess insisted on bringing wine even though they're the ones who drink it," Sam said with a sarcastically wide smile as he held up the bottle.

"Yeah, because after two glasses, your jokes start to get funnier," Jess teased as she took the bottle from him. He swatted her as she passed, making her laugh. Sam rolled his eyes fondly as he joined Dean in the backyard.

"What's up, I haven't seen you much since the event. You doing okay?" He asked, leaning against the table as Dean fiddled uselessly with the patties on the tray.

"Yeah, I'm good, why?" He asked casually, even as he refused to meet Sam's eyes.

"Dude, Castiel was onstage for thirty minutes and the entire time you looked like you could actually breathe. I saw the effect she still has on you, so you want to talk about it or do you want me to pretend I didn't see it?" He asked. Dean sighed, swallowing as he turned his body towards Sam, feeling too vulnerable in the fact that he is so easy for the people around him to read.

"What do you want me to say? It doesn't change anything," he said.

"Why not?" Sam pushed. "You were so in love with her and she helped you so much, you're telling me that there is not a single part of you that wants that back?

"Nope," Dean shrugged, keeping his eyes glued to the grill.

"You're bullshitting me, and you know it. Look, man, I love Lisa, okay? She's awesome, but you two are so different. You can't give each other what you both need, and that's okay. I'm sure she'd understand if you just explained it, so why don't you?"

"Because I have a life already. I have a girlfriend inside right now prepping a stupid side salad with a very carefully picked out dressing. I have a house and a dog, and I'm being the dutiful man of the house by cooking burgers. It doesn't change shit, Sam," he said, turning away from Sam and back towards the barbeque. "This is what I'm supposed to be, this is what I'm supposed to do, so, just, leave it alone," he added with a stubborn flare.

"Alright, I'll back off, but I want you to know that there is nothing more important than your well being and your happiness," Sam said. "With that being said, let me take over while you go grab me a beer because I am not stepping into that house again before those girls have at least a full glass of wine. They're mean when they're together," Sam shivers dramatically as he takes the spatula from Dean's hand. Dean chuckled and the tension in his shoulders relaxed with the change in topic.

"Yeah," he relinquishes control of the grill and heads inside, following the sound of laughter. Jess is standing by the counter, cutting olives in half while slowly sipping from a wine glass. Lisa is chopping romaine hearts and tossing them into a strainer to rinse. Dean passes without interrupting their conversation, grabbing two beers from the fridge.

"Don't drink that entire bottle before dinner," Dean teases with a more relaxed smile.

"Or what? You'll spank me?" Lisa grins over her shoulder. Her and Jess erupt in laughter, and Dean forces himself to chuckle as his jaw clenches and his stomach turns itself on its side. He hides his emotions a lot better when he walks outside. He masks the discomfort in his steps and he starts talking about the new show he and Lisa have become invested in due to Sam's suggestion. He started ranting about his own thoughts and theories, and Dean threw himself into the conversation head first.

Lisa and Jess polish off a bottle and a half of wine, giggling and bantering all through dinner. Dean switches to whiskey at one point and manages to smile and laugh after one glass. He's almost proud when Sam stops throwing hidden glances his way. He's almost proud that he has masked his emotions well enough that Sam thinks he's had a great time. He argues when Sam says the hamburgers are too spicy, banters when Lisa agrees, and high fives Jess when she says they're perfect. They wave them away with leftovers and the promise of doing it against soon.

warning: Sexual content and internal trauma 

Lisa sighs happily when they're gone and stretches her arms above her head with a tipsy smile. They clean up listening to music, Lisa dances and brushes up against him as they wash dishes. He smiles lazily at her, trying to lose himself in the swivel of her hips and the taste of wine in her kiss. He puts all of his concentration onto the taste of her skin when they fall into bed, listening to the hitch in her breath and the rasp in her moan when he sucks on her neck. Her legs are tiny under his palm and she scratches against his back when he grinds against her.

The room is cold and Dean wants to get under the covers, maybe take his time, just acquaint himself with her, but Lisa is half drunk and impatient. She undresses herself, wiggling her hips and teasing at the waistband of her panties from beneath him. She's waiting for his approval, he can tell, he knows that she's putting on a show for him, so he obliges. He presses heated compliments into her skin, his fingers pressing down against the silky material of her undergarments. They're so soft and warm that it nearly makes his head fuzzy, then she was tugging him up and flipping him over to straddle him. She kisses him hard and messy as she shoves her panties off, pawing at his boxers until he's kicking them down his legs.

Her fingers bite at his chest as she rides him, her head thrown back in bliss. Then she's looking down at him with something wild and heated in her eyes.

"Spank me." It throws him off, it makes his head reel. She's still bouncing on him, her nails painful on his skin as she repeats herself. Dean closes his eyes as his stomach drops. He swats her ass once and she gasps, a wide, pleased smile taking over her lips. "Harder." He does. He spanks her a handful of times before she's screaming and losing rhythm. She scrambles and her legs shake and she gasps before slumping forward.

"You want me to suck you off?" She asks once her breath returns to her.

"No, I think I drank too much," he said. She nods understandingly, kissing him a few more times before falling onto the bed beside him. He doesn't realize that he is shaking until he turns onto his side and tries to sink into the blankets. His teeth would be chattering if he wasn't clenching his jaw so hard. He curled into himself, clenching his hands hard into the blanket. He sits up enough to slip his boxers back on, everything touching his skin feels like it might tear it off.

"Cuddle me," Lisa sleepily demands, reaching back for him. He rolls over to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She presses back against him, her bare skin rubbing against his. Before she settles, he slips the blankets between them, barricading his delicate flesh from hers. A tear stains the pillow beneath his head before he finally relaxes enough to sleep.

[hiyaluronic]

Unnamed Sentinel/Guide Au (partial draft)

Nile eyed Nicky’s plate with envy, her nose twitching at the pleasant aroma of garlic and the slightly nutty, pungent smell of cumin and turmeric; the spicy aromatics filling the small dining room and causing her stomach to grumble excitedly. She turned from Nicky’s plate to stare down at her own in dismay. The grilled chicken breast, steamed broccoli, and rich buttery baked potato were doing nothing to satiate her cranky stomach.

“Why does Nicky get the good stuff?” She hadn’t meant to sound childish but Joe’s home cooked chicken curry looked a thousand times more appetizing than the standard restaurant-style meal situated on her plate.

Joe grinned and winked at Nicky who in turn rolled his eyes in response, “Because he’s being punished.” 

Nile sighed and poked halfheartedly at her chicken, “Then can I be punished too?”

Andy snorted into her wine glass, pulling the stemmed glass away and clearing her throat against the burn of alcohol. “Trust me, you don’t.”

“If you say so.” Nile murmured and reluctantly cut into her chicken. She took a few bites, her gaze lingering on Nicky’s plate which sat untouched, wondering how exactly homemade food was a punishment. 

“C’mon, Nicolò,” Joe prodded, forgetting his own meal and using his fork to spear a piece of sauce drenched chicken from Nicky’s plate. “I promise it will not be as bad as Baton Rouge.”

Nile perked up, curious. “What happened in Baton Rouge?” 

Andy smiled deviously and leaned over to Nile. “Booker’s attempt at cerole cooking. His Jambalaya is still pending a patent as a lethal weapon. Joe and I ended up with food poisoning, Nicky on the other hand....”

Nicky swallowed, eyeing the innocent piece of poultry dangling from Joe’s fork with trepidation, eyes following the curry sauce as it slowly dripped onto the tablecloth. “I ended up zoning because the idiota, mixed up chile peppers with bhut jolokia.”

Nile scrunched her face. “Bahht Zo-lu-key-ya?” 

“Ghost peppers.” Andy simplified, leaning back into the kitchen chair and crossing her arms, watching Joe shake the chicken enticingly in front of Nicky with mild amusement.

Nile cringed and swallowed, her mouth watering at the imagined heat of said pepper. “Shit.” 

“Indeed.” Nicky replied with a sigh before leaning forward and letting his mouth wrap enticingly around Joe’s fork - the pink of his lips covering the silver of the utensil suggestively - before ever so slowly pulling back, smirking when he noticed Joe’s eyes narrow at his actions. Nicky closed his eyes and let the juices from the chicken settle on his tongue; the sweetness of clove and cinnamon dancing across his tongue and running as a current under the powerful flavor of turmeric, bay leaves, and cumin. He sucked the sauce and juice from the chicken, tilting his head back and moaning in pleasure when the slight underlying warmth of garlic and mustard seed tickled his taste buds.

He mentally smirked when he felt Joe kick his shin under the table, a quiet behave drifting from his husband's lips, the heady scent of musk saturating the air between them and sending a jolt of excitement through Nicky. He could hear Nile coughing awkwardly across the table; a deep bass to the quiet trill of Andy’s accompanying  laughter. Why should he be the only one to be punished? 

He felt the air shift and change before he heard Joe sigh. “Come on, Nico. You know how this goes, what’s the secret ingredient?”

Nicky frowned at the question and chewed the chicken, unsure. He could taste something off. Taste something out of place underneath the normal spices, something sharp and bitter  - almost medicinal.

“I’m assuming it’s not love?” Nile said to Andy, who snickered.

Nicky swallowed and blinked open his eyes, turning to Joe, “Clove, cinnamon, turmeric, bay leaf, cumin. Just a hint of garlic and mustard... and...”

Joe ticked off the ingredients with his finger, “And…?”

Nicky licked his lips and tried to focus on the odd taste, he knew it, he just couldn’t place the where and what, and most notably the name. He hated having to sort through Joe’s cooking because there were so many different flavors in the world and it was sometimes very hard to distinguish between herbs and spices; and, while he loved his husband, Joe liked to make it as hard as possible. The reasoning? Because it eased his husband's mind knowing that he could detect even the subtlest of flavors - which he would agree. Being able to detect the minute differences in flavors between herbs and poisons had saved them many unneeded deaths over the various decades.

But, still…

“It tastes like soap.”

“Seriously, Joe!” Nile admonished, eyes wide in concern. “You put soap in his food?”

“It’s not soap!” Joe was quick to reply, just a little offended at the accusation. “I would never do such a thing!”

“Uggh.” Nicky shivered in disgust when it finally clicked what the offending flavor was, “Cilantro!”

“Very good, Nico!” Joe leaned forward and kissed his husband happily. “And now what sense shall we work on next, hmmm?”

Nicky laughed softly with a shake of his head, “Joe, it was only one zone with a great many number of years between my last one. I promise I do not need-”

“It is not about what you need, you have become lax in these last few decades, hayati, you’re starting to rely too heavily on the technology of today. And it worries me.” Joe explained, running a hand through his beard and scratching at the skin underneath. “You were very lucky that Nile had been there to keep an eye on you until Andy and I arrived but what would have happened if Nile had been indisposed of? You would have been left vulnerable and that’s just not acceptable.”

“Cuore Mio.” Nicky murmured, his hand reaching over to grasp Joe’s tightly in his absently running his thumb over Joe’s knuckles.. He didn’t need heightened senses to know that his love was feeling anxious but the sulfuric reek permeating the air around Joe just confirmed it. 

Andy nodded, seeming to agree with the idea. “Joe’s right, Nicky. We have to be able to trust that on a mission you won’t conk out on us. A refresher might do some good and it’ll help Nile know what to do when Joe is unavailable to pull you back.”

Nile held her hand up and cleared her throat, drawing the attention of the small group. “Speaking of. I was promised an explanation?”

“That you were, Nile.” Nicky agreed, squeezing Joe’s hand with a gentle smile. “There is sadly not much to tell.”

“Oh, hell no. You don’t get to reveal Nicky is a superhero-” Not a superhero, Nile “and then not tell me how that happened.”

Joe and Nicky shared a look, Joe raised his shoulder slightly in question to which Nicky tilted his head, his gaze flicking towards Nile before returning to Joe with a small nod.

Joe sighed and pulled his hand free from Nicky’s, settling back against his chair, and focusing his sight on the darkened splotches of curry staining the tablecloth. “It was many, many months after we had grown tired of constant death and had laid down our arms against one another. At the time we thought our situation was part of our immortality, it wasn’t until we met Andromache and Quynh that we understood otherwise.” 

Nicky smiled fondly, remembering the circumstances that had surrounded their meeting of their sisters in arms. It had been a sweltering summer, the air so thick that even the simple act of breathing would leave a person exhausted and uncomfortably drenched. Time had worn away at a lot of his memories but the vibrant scent of the briny waters lapping at the sands along the coast, the salty air pushed inland by the balmy waves of the Mediterannean that ate away at wood and stone alike and the overbearing smell of seagrasses that would drift upward when low tide would hit and carrying the faint tinge of dead sea life along with it were still vivid in his memory.

But what he remembered the most about that first meeting - what still haunted him and fueled his nightmares almost a millennium later - was the utter terror of not being able to hear Joe’s heartbeat between one moment and the next. His breath still faltered when he thought back to the utter panic that had grabbed hold and burrowed deep into his chest at the mere thought of losing the one person who could make him feel human.

“Andromache and Quynh absconded with Joe before we had the chance to be formally introduced.”

Nile balked at Nicky’s words but at the minute twitch to the corners of his mouth and the way she noticed his eyes darken just a tad, not quite in anger but in an almost accusatory way, had her turning to Andy flabbergasted, “You what!?

“In all fairness,” Andy started, her hands raised in supplication, “it was just to test a theory. We’d trailed the two of them for days, trying to get a read on what kind of buffoons they were outside of the dreams.”

“We were not buffoons.” Joe huffed, affronted, eyes ticking to Nicky looking for agreement.

Andy quirked an eyebrow, “You literally killed each other dozens of times over the span of 6 months. Quynh and I had even started making bets on it. So, hence, bah-foons.”

“We were-” Joe trailed off, looking to Nicky for the right way to answer without confirming Andy’s rather accurate description.

Nicky turned from Joe’s gaze to Andy’s with a frown, “-working through some things.” 

“Sure, language barrier, sectarianism, genocide…” Andy said, ticking each item off with the raise of one of her fingers.

“Getting off topic here, guys. I’m assuming there’s more to the story then Andy and Quynh running off with Joe in tow?” 

With a sigh, Andy looked towards Nile. “There were… are stories. Legends really, about persons with the capability to  perceive the world around them on a level unseen by us mere humans.”

“Sounds amazing.” Nile said.

“One would think until you realize nothing can be such without its own hindrances.” Nicky explained with a wince, “What Andy and Quynh were testing was to see if Joe and I had bonded as guide and sentinel.”

“Bonded?”

“A sentinel’s abilities are latent, most that have this ability will never know because a sentinel is born through harsh conditions and need.” Andy explained at Nile’s question. “But if there is no guide, no way for a sentinel to maintain a baseline, the world becomes an enemy to them and they either zone or turn feral.”

“Feral? Like...turn rabid?” 

Nicky nodded at Nile, “An abhorred definition but yes. We have only ever seen a feral sentinel once and it ended with him falling to my blade.” 

“Okay.” Nile pursed her lips trying to gather her thoughts, “Okay so Andy and Quynh took Joe to make sure you were bonded and not feral?”

“You have to understand Nile, we saw them kill each other for months. With so much senseless violence Quynh and I had to make sure that the world hadn’t bred a broken and untamed immortal.”

[mirsfa]

dangerously (v)

Genre: Uhm. Kinda everything, from angst through fluff to smut Word count: 10k  Pairing: Prince!Jaehyun x Mafia!Reader Warning: Cursing, underage smoking, drinking, use of drugs, even more cursing, smut in upcoming chapters. There’s a lot and I might have left some out oops. Summary: You were polar opposites. He was royalty, you were a criminal. You hated him, he hated you. This mission was the last thing any of you wanted, but you had to make it work. But could you?  TW: domestic abuse, violence

a/n: hello to every single one of you<3 so here we are again. me being ridiculously late, and you being like “wait whats this fanfic again i dont remember” hnng. SO here is part 5 of dangerously:) i promised a double update - which is going to happen. this is part 5, and i think next week ill upload part 6. i hope that’s alright:) (the whole chapter was 20k but i think its more reasonable if i upload it in two parts). Thank you so so so much for all the people that reminded me to keep going and keep writing. to everyone who likes this mess of words i manage to put together. i love you all, from the bottom of my heart.  also, i put a keep reading thingy on. i pray it works.

Previously: It all went down in slow motion.  The dancefloor of the gigantic room cleared out, the remaining guests pushing themselves up against the walls. Pure terror was written all over their faces, at the scene that played in the very middle of the room.   Prince Chenle stood there.   With a knife at his throat.   And at the end of the knife, the person who was holding it… Junhui.   You stopped breathing as you took in his face, took in that familiar, sharp smile. As your eyes met with Yukhei’s from across the room, you were certain he was horrified, just as much as you.   They were here.   The Black Spade was here.  

The air was stiff, tense; you felt the droplet of sweat on your neck before it had a chance to slide down. You were aware of everything suddenly, the sharp breaths of the elite guests, the faint clinking of your jewellery, the clamminess of your palms as you tightened your fist. You were in deep shit and you had a vague idea of what the outcome might be if you didn’t think of a solution quick enough.  

It’s been three years since you saw any member of the Black Spade.  

Not like you regretted it, or that you had wished to see them. It simply made you nervous, made you hyper-aware of your surroundings. Now, that one of them – if not all – is in the same room as you, some sort of perverse euphoria took over your brain, that they see you, and they want to kill you, and they have no idea how much can be done in the span of three years.  

“Long time no see, beautiful,” drifted Junhui’s voice, and you swore the blood froze in your veins. His ashy hair fell into his eyes as he tilted his head slightly, his cupid’s bow-like lips curling into a vicious, Cheshire-cat smile. He looked different since the last time you saw him, but if it surprised you, the feeling slid away into a secluded, subconscious part of your brain. It was not the appropriate time to think about the appearance of a conman. It was never the same.  

Even though he was standing far away from you, you felt feather-light touches caress your arms, ice-cold breath brushing your neck and even colder lips linger above your shoulder.  

Mirroring his expression, you placed your weight on your right leg and cocked your waist out. The dress shifted around your legs, the slit moving so that your left leg was let bare. You replaced your shocked expression with one of confidence, of piercing ice.  

“Let the prince go, Junhui,” you breathed as you kept eye-contact with him, no matter the amount of memories and even more regrets flashing into your mind.  

His grip tightened on the knife and Chenle hissed as a droplet of blood slid down on the front of his neck.  

For fucks sake.  

The youngest prince was supposed to be down in the basement along with his brother Donghyuck and Winwin…where are they? What happened to them?  

You did not dare glancing up at the balcony, where Taeyong and Doyoung lay, scared that a single look might serve as a clue to the one of the conmen of the Black Spade.  

“Come and take him, assassin,” mused Jun and you tilted your head to the side as invitation.  

“Where is the rest of your precious little gang, Jun?” you asked, masking your voice with the similar silky tone the conman sported. He ran his eyes over your figure then, something like bizarre satisfaction flashing in the dark orbs.  

“Three years ago,” Junhui purred, ignoring your question, as he flattened the blade on Chenle’s neck, “you pulled an impressive stunt.” You felt all eyes on you and him, the guests remaining backed up until the ivory and gold embroidered walls. You kept yourself straightened, focused on your breathing and let your hand linger around the dagger hidden under your dress.  

“Don’t evade,” you said then, icy edge wedging itself between your words, “let the prince go and show your faces so we can settle this properly.”  

A beat of silence, then Junhui craned his neck back as he let out a booming laugh. The knife tightened on Chenle’s neck and his panicked eyes searched yours.  

“Settle this properly?” crowed Jun then before his lips curled back in a vicious snarl. You felt the whole room tense at the sheer animosity. “And what does this ‘settling’ mean for you, huh, dear? Shooting someone in the head? Or stabbing them in the neck, maybe blow their guts up with the help of your little arsonist?” his eyes narrowed into slits as he drank up your facial expression, “or does spreading your legs nice and wide does the job for everyone?”  

You stopped breathing.  

Talk.  

This is all talk, and he talked too much –  

Stalling. Was he stalling?  

You didn’t dare look up at the balcony, it would just give him an idea of Taeyong’s and Doyoung’s whereabouts…  

“That’s quite enough, Jun,” a voice sounded then, echoing through the deadly silent ballroom.  

A figure emerged, muscular and clad in black. His hair was smoothed back onto his scalp, revealing a creaseless forehead and bedroom eyes, wide and dark. An easy, light-hearted smile coated his lips and his name flashed in your mind immediately.  

Seungcheol.  

Then you felt a presence at your back, a whiff of spicy cologne and smoke – Taeyong stepped beside you. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, with enough force to blacken your senses for a single second. But Taeyong didn’t look at you, didn’t even graze his fingers against yours, his gaze was fixated on the rival gang’s leader and conman.  

Rage rippled off him – you felt it, Jun felt it, and you reckoned that the entire room felt it too. It was quiet and icy, cold enough to freeze lakes over.  

“We didn’t come to fight tonight,” Seungcheol said then. His voice was deep and rough, embers of arrogant authority sizzling. You cringed and watched the knife at Chenle’s neck.  

“Of course, you didn’t,” breezed Taeyong, his crimson hair smoothed back, emphasizing his elegantly tilted cat-like eyes, flashing, “you hold daggers to princes’ necks for the laugh.”  

Seungcheol let out a deep chuckle and Junhui grinned, tightening his grip.  

“You are slick ones, you know,” the Black Spade’s leader said, leisurely placing his hands in his pockets. A move of superiority. A move of arrogance. “We managed to catch this little one here only, the rest – “  

He looked at you then, his depthless black eyes raking over your form smoothly and you forced yourself not to flinch.  

“– scattered. Like underground rats.”  

As if on command, tiny red dots flashed up on their skin – not yours or Taeyong’s but the others, and it took them a whole ten seconds to realize it.  

And when they did, you managed to grin as if you had been planning it all along.  

“Rats, you say?” you hummed and dared a glance behind Seungcheol and Junhui – where Yukhei was supposed to be but you found nothing other than an empty macaron plate. He managed to get out – through the servant corridors.  

“Let go of the prince, Junhui,” Taeyong said then, his voice barely louder than a faint whisper, but much, much more powerful.  

The conman and his leader exchanged a quick glance before Jun lifted the dagger from Chenle’s neck and pushed the princeling away from him. He stumbled but didn’t fall and his eyes found yours immediately. It took Chenle no time to be at your side, his breathing and legs shaky. You grabbed his wrist and manoeuvred yourself in front of him.  

“Consider this a warning,” Seungcheol murmured then, “we see and hear everything, and remember, the blade of the spade cuts the snake’s head off.”  

You fought the urge to roll your eyes.  

“Just take the rest of your ragtag and fuck off,” grumbled Taeyong and turning on his heels, walked out of the ballroom.  

For a second you held Junhui’s eyes, then turning around you followed your leader, not letting the prince’s hand go.  

You flinched, hard, when the double-winged door banged closed behind your back.  

Three and a half hours, four shots of whisky and an entire pack of cigarettes later your fingers still seemed to tremble, and you considered chopping them off with one of Doyoung’s crooked daggers. This was after you finally stopped running your eyes over your family and the princes, looking for hidden injuries, panicked flashes in the eyes or a shaky breath – which you had found plenty. None of you changed out of your elegant clothing. If someone had walked into the suite with no knowledge or context regarding your history, they would have perceived the situation as something beautifully morbid. Suits were crumpled – the immaculacy only a tell-tale of what was supposed to happen, and the weapons scattered around the velvet sofas did not seem as intimidating as they should have been.

Chenle was sitting on a big, plush sofa – his entire body shaking, sweat dripping off his brows – Renjun and Jungwoo sat by him, encasing him with their bodies, wiping the cold beads from his eyes and neck. You swore you saw Jungwoo’s hand tremble the entire time.  

Johnny ran his fingers through his hair – once brushed elegantly, now hanging low into his brows. His eyes kept going to his youngest brother, guilt glinting there now and then.  

“We were right then,” he murmured, his voice hushed yet it seemed like a shout in the painfully quiet room, “it has been the Black Spade all along.”  

Ten and Jeno exchanged glances and you hummed. The only noise coming out of you since you collapsed onto a couple-sofa with Winwin.  

Maybe that was why Prince Yuta’s sharp eyes cut to your features immediately.  

“Miss Assassin seemed to have a moment there,” you thought he wanted his voice to be threatening and reckoning but you felt nothing other than a hollow sort of static noise.  

Taeyong turned towards the prince before exhaling a thick cloud of smoke that encased his face for a second.  

“She owes no explanation, even for Your Highnesses.”  

“Maybe she doesn’t,” Johnny said, his eyes now set on you hesitantly and you stared back with an empty expression, “but what if it has significance?”  

Doyoung squinted.  

“It doesn’t.”  

“Maybe it does.”  

“Trust me, it does not.”  

Jaehyun drew in a sharp breath.  

You didn’t look at him. Didn’t dare to or didn’t want to, that did not matter. You still felt the warmth of his breath on the tip of your nose.  

“It might have some, though,” you interrupted, and everyone looked at you. Tilting your head back entirely, you rested it against the head of the loveseat and Winwin reached underneath the nape of your neck. You let out a small, thankful smile.  

Sitting in the crossfire of burning gazes, you began to tell a story.  

Everything has a start. The creation of Earth, the start of civilisations, kings and queens begin their lives as toddlers like everyone and everything else. Gangs, mafias don’t emerge the way they are now. They are not born as complete, safe empires. They crawl out as muddy and clawed hands; they pull themselves through sewers and tunnels and they scratch and cut themselves in the process – but it doesn’t matter because the purpose is stronger than the circumstance.  

The journey is long – never ending. Your growth never stops, there is no limit of being better – or worse. And you believe you haven’t gone down the right path. But does being good mean being right? No one knows the answer to that.  

You took a deep, deep breath before starting.

“There hasn’t always been war between the Black Spade and the Diamond Snake. In fact, it started off as something as close as a brotherhood. It crumbled three years ago – I believe people have heard about it. It was all over the media. Before that happened… Dear heavens, we were inseparable, we even thought about merging our gangs. I was nineteen at the time it all fell apart…an age where you ardently believe you are mature enough for whatever might come your way. The age when life seems to throw its heaviest and sharpest stones at you. Three years ago, our family was thriving already…but only because of Seungcheol’s – the Black Spade’s leader’s – help.”

“The Black Spade is a bit older than us. Even though we are around the same age, they began their businesses much earlier. They were already dealing serious things when we only ran around, wreaking havoc, stealing and just…living life at its fullest. In the foulest ways possible. It was Seungcheol who told Taeyong that he should get into similar business like him. I remember, he said something along the lines of: “There is potential in you, brother. Great potential.”  

I was thirteen then. Taeyong was barely sixteen. We admired the way he built up something like a kingdom, we were there when the fundamental stones were placed down. So, we began to do the same. We built up bases, created businesses, recruited people. He stood with us the whole time, helping us, advising when we needed it.  

For two years, everything went smoothly. I was already good at fighting – living on the streets isn’t the best thing for a girl. Especially in that part of the city. But Doyoung and I began to train, to be weapons, irreplaceable assets. We were trained by ex-assassins, spies, conmen, any person who has once been great, and had enough skill and power to make empires crumble into pieces. Working on the streets and in the underworld had its perks.  

During those two years, the two gangs shared dreams. We had great plans…overly ambitious at the time but we were so determined – it was impossible to keep us down, to make us give up on those ambitions. It didn’t stray us that their gang structure was different from what we planned.”  

You inhaled deeply and let out a shaky laugh. Winwin squeezed your shoulder.  

“The Black Spade has a unique way of…working. I will try my best to tell you what I know about it.”  

You looked around the room, sweeping your eyes over the princes and gang members. They huddled around you and drank up each word you said. As you looked at them you realised – for the first time, there was no place for anger, prejudice or even disgust in the room. The princes and gang members sat by each other one by one, brushing shoulders, crossing legs. Not enemies. Something close to acquaintances. Not friends yet, no… but you felt like you were on the right path towards that. Maybe this mission which became a catastrophic mess, the embodiment of your mutual enemy – this was perhaps what you needed most to be pushed together, to begin acting like an alliance instead of two reluctant parties forced into working together.  

You continued with a small, bitter smile and tucked your trembling hands under your thighs.  

“The Black Spade hits and runs, without lingering. When you realize what they have done…you feel numb and out of place. They work and move in sync, through careful planning and execution of strategy. In and out. They work for money, for men of status and they are not afraid to do the dirty work. They work long-term, taking down their prey over periods of times, working their ways into systems and hearts. This is exactly what they were becoming after that year. The inner circle had roles and jobs – just like us. But they are trained to do the dirtiest and foulest of works. We have spies – but they have conmen. Their names are Jeonghan and… and Junhui.”  

You said the last name with a dying breath. Pressure held your throat together as you fought the urge to shake. Winwin’s pinkie finger began to trace calming patterns on your shoulders.  

“They are worse than spies, they don’t get the information like us – by listening carefully and paying attention to details, or even hacking. No. They deceive you; they make you trust them; make you believe that they are more important than what you are truly protecting. They take the information, and they make sure to destroy you afterwards. Slow and steady. That was the path they started to follow. Their ambitions took a dark turn, one we were not willing to follow. Taeyong wasn’t, at least. More complications arose and more fights broke out between the two gangs. The last one was between Doyoung and Wonwoo, one of the Spades’ assassins. It turned bad…Both Yukhei and Taeyong were needed to hold Doyoung back, and Mingyu – another Spade assassin and Seungcheol, their leader, to keep Wonwoo from throwing daggers at Doyoung. It was a mess. Pure chaos.  

That was when things turned around for us, we strayed apart from each other, went on different paths, different parts of the city. After another half a year, we started a race. To see who has more territory, more assets and influence over wealthy people. It was obvious, after a while, that they worked against us on purpose, but it was too late for them. We grew stronger, we knew their ways of working and we developed ours – a new system, something that was unfamiliar for them. That went on for…I believe I was almost eighteen when I met Junhui again. The last time I saw him was two-three years before that.”

Another breath. You felt your heart hammer against your chest as you tried desperately to calm it down by taking deep breaths. But it did not seem to work, and the dress started to feel tighter, more open – too revealing.  

“I’d always found him attractive. So, when we met again accidentally on a mission, where both of us had the same target…those old emotions re-surfaced. For me, at least. One thing led to the other…The next thing I knew I was sneaking out of the Viper’s Pit, our home and headquarters, to meet up with him. I believe the thrill that we were lovers like Romeo and Juliet, from two families who have developed hatred toward one another, fired our emotions up. He was irresistible. I knew I was doing the wrong thing, deep inside me, but I felt like for once, I would be young and foolish. That I could afford it and could get away with it later. That even if it ends, if emotions die or our families find out, we have learned something new from each other, from the whole situation.”  

“So, we continued meeting up. Secret rendezvous. We shared everything. Our pasts, our feelings, our deepest secrets and doubts.  

Then one day, he started asking about things that weren’t related to my own feelings…he asked about the Snakes, first about how my relationship was with them, then slowly about how we work. And I was so in love, I was so sure that he wanted to know where I come from, where and how I live…I gave him everything he wanted to know.”  

You took a breath. Then another. Then another.  

And you swallowed back the lumps in your throat, because thinking about the mistakes you have made was much, much harder than you thought it would be. The barricades, the walls you have placed between your memories and your thoughts seemed to weaken as you talked about him. You saw a mixture of emotions when you looked around the room, ran your eyes through the princes and your family.  

The young princes…their eyes were filled with held back emotions, sympathy and sorrow and something like understanding. They were young, too young to fully understand how it must have felt like to go through these things but…they were smart enough to comprehend other aspects of it. The choices, the danger of trusting and the importance of keeping vital information to yourself. To not let emotions come in the way of that.  

Then you glanced over at the four older royals…their expressions were a haze, a mess of swirling emotions. It was so clear, in that moment, what each of them felt. As if everyone had dropped down their guards along with you.

Prince Johnny swallowed; you saw his throat bob as he looked away from your face – to stare at his own feet instead. Was it pity? You didn’t know, and you weren’t sure you desired to find out. Yuta’s expression was perhaps the most shocking one. He was leaning back on an armchair, his legs crossed and his head resting in his palm. In his eyes – a sharp glint of understanding. His bone-chilling attitude seemed to have melted in that moment. The edge didn’t leave his eyes but was joined with something new. Something soft and forgiving. Prince Jungwoo had a similar calculating look in his sweet, brown eyes. Although he wasn’t looking at you only. His eyes kept sweeping over your family, their expressions while listening to your story. The big picture.  

Finally, you let yourself glance at Prince Jaehyun.  

He stared at you, his face radiating nothing but pure curiosity and painful realisation - the information seemingly took its place in his brain like the piece of a puzzle. The key to the lock. They understood where you were getting at. They knew what it cost you to love a rival.  

Your voice descended into a quiet, but steely whisper.  

“After I learned all the things he’d done, how he used me for the information…I visited their nest. The Spades’ nest.”

And when you looked up again, you felt like the entire weight of a cliff rolled off your shoulders.

“And I burned it to the ground.”  

“You shouldn’t have shared this much.”  

These were Ten’s first words, barely a minute after the princes left Taeyong’s suite, with something like incredulous haze dwelling in their eyes. Your story was followed by a heavy silence, and you noted the quiet tears in Jaemin’s eyes. He was the most reluctant to leave, but Jaehyun pulled him along gently with a last look at you over his shoulder. You met his gaze. And let it linger.  

You slid your eyes towards the spy, and it barely surprised you how much energy you had to muster for it.  

“I placed the youngest prince in danger. I owed them this much.”  

Ten clicked his tongue.  

“You could’ve told them all this with half as much detail. Something about you and the Black Spade conman fucking, him betraying you and you taking revenge. It would’ve also taken less time.”  

Winwin groaned.  

“Why is it that when you open your mouth, only negative things manage to leave through it?”  

“You’re one to talk.”  

Kun interrupted, “We need them to trust us.” He shot you an approving look before frowning.  

“You did not have motives other than that, right Z?” he looked at you more carefully.  

“Of course, I didn’t, what are you talking about?” you murmured and stared at the ceiling in a rather determined manner. Jeno sat up straighter.  

“Oh my god, is it because of one of the princes? You like one of them?” he grinned, his eyes contracting into half-moons.  

“How did you come up with that? What does it have to do with it all? I don’t like anyone,” you hissed at no one in general. But that wasn’t enough for your family, who had entered a state of frenzy.  

“It’s Johnny, isn’t it?” Winwin glanced down at you, his lips tightened so he doesn’t burst out laughing.  

“No what the fuck, Win -”  

“I mean I wouldn’t blame you,” Ten shrugged and you arched one of your freshly plucked eyebrows. You did not like the direction of the conversation.  

“You have a daddy kink, don’t you Z? And Johnny is the daddy,” Yukhei was nodding deep in thought, as if he was a doctor writing a prescription for you. You gaped again.  

“Excuse me – “  

“No, I think Johnny is way too soft to be a daddy,” Doyoung shook his head and the others murmured in agreement. You were at a loss for words. Just minutes ago, you were discussing your tragic past love-story and now they were dissecting the chances of who you might fancy and their kinks-  

“Nah,” Taeyong spoke up then, the one who did not render his eyes from your face ever since you finished talking about Junhui, “I don’t think it is Johnny.”  

Whipping your head at your leader you shot him a betrayed look. He just stared at you with ever-knowing eyes.  

“You don’t like anyone,” he tilted his head and placed his chin in his palm, “but you do find one of them fascinating, don’t you, dear?”  

You squinted.  

“You wouldn’t know – “  

“Yes, I would,” Taeyong’s voice was hard and you clumped your mouth shut, “I have known you your entire life. Gives me enough time to figure you out.”  

Shrugging, you hoisted yourself up from the sofa and stalked towards the door. You needed sleep. A day’s worth, at least. You didn’t want to listen useless talk.  

“Z, wait,” Taeyong called after you regretfully. Tightening your grip on your heels, you turned around, glanced at your leader, at the rest of the Diamond Snake.  

“Stay here for the night, please. Everyone will.”  

He hesitated, as if saying these words caused him physical pain. He was disappointed, too. Shaken up by the night’s events like the rest of you. On the edge.  

“I don’t think it is…safe yet. For us to walk around here alone. We also heard Seokjin’s words – about his office being near here. And he disappeared along with the Spades. No one knows where he might be, what he might be planning along with these little shits.”  

You saw his point, and you hated to admit that you agreed with him. A part of you wanted to say that you’re fine off alone, that you can protect yourself… but tonight’s events upset you, too. The moment of realisation, while Seokjin held your hair wrapped around his finger, that you knew nothing, that you stalked straight into a trap in golden stilettos. And that you had no idea.  

With a sigh, you dumped your heels back on the ground.  

“Fine. But I want the bed.”  

Tae let out a sigh of relief.  

But not even the soft privilege of the bed was enough to lull you into sleep that night.  

The next few days, most of your group retreated into a nerve-wrecking calm, even Yukhei was quieter and less lively than usual. It was nice to see that you were not alone in this pit of…lethargic feelings because of the ball. The next week was spent in solitude, the entire inner circle gathering up in Taeyong’s suite, eating and sleeping together. If anyone else saw you, they would have straight up called you miserable. The usual teasing, yelling and disastrous attitude towards the cleanliness of the place was nowhere to be seen.  

“We haven’t been that lucky while being here, have we?” Doyoung piped up one evening, with Taeil and yourself sitting on the balcony, smoking in silence. You placed your legs in Taeil’s lap.  

“What do you mean?” the eldest of the group asked as he smashed the remnants of his cigarette.  

Doyoung shrugged.  

“Well, look at the first mission. That wasn’t carried out so well either,” his voice sounded sarcastically cheerful, but you caught the tone of disappointment. Doyoung has always been the type to be adamant on succeeding on the events and actions and whatever objective you had in mind. You hardly failed. And it has never happened two times in a row, until now.  

You wanted to say something soothing, but the words got caught in your mouth.  

Taeil drew circles absently on the skin of your ankle.  

“Well the first mission was good to earn the Royals’ trust, no?” he said then. The raven assassin inclined his head.  

“Yeah, but Z got injured,” he countered, and you groaned, “so the two cancels itself out.”  

Taeil chuckled.  

“Based on what?”  

“PEMDAS?”  

You chucked the pack at Doyoung’s head. He threw it right back.  

“We have to come up with something. We can’t keep going on like this,” you said after tugging out a new piece from the pack.  

“What do you mean?”  

“I feel like we have been feeling around in the dark so far. We weren’t sure who stood behind the attacks, we could only play a role as bodyguards. But now we know it is the Black Spade for sure. Just think, what would we do normally?” you straightened up while talking, folding your legs underneath yourself.  

“We need to sniff around the Spades… find out the location of their headquarters, their current customers and deals,” Taeil caught up with your thinking and you nodded.  

Doyoung’s eyes shone as he leaned forward.  

“On the other hand, we need to get ready for any following attacks. We need to recruit more Snakes for this job, the inner circle can’t stay the only ones working on this case,” he thought out loud, “Ask for a new place from the Royals, and no one should know about it… not even the princes. Then we need to visit the Headquarters, see who can be used for the job. And then we need spies stuck onto the Spades… but I’m not so sure about that. Remember what happened last time?” he grimaced.  

You shuddered as you recalled what happened the first and last time you set three of your spies onto the Black Spade. You could hardly identify them two days later, when you found them at an abandoned bus stop by an empty road.  

Taeil let out a pained sigh.  

“That means we will need to hire someone who does not belong to us and is further independent from other gangs… and who knows how things work in the Underworld, knows people, has connections… Doyoung, all the people who would be perfectly up for the job belong to us.”  

“Not really,” you spoke up then, a triumphant grin stretching on your face, “there is someone who would be perfect for the job. Or more like someones.”  

Doyoung’s mouth hanged open after a minute of silence.  

“Z no. I don’t want to see those little shits ever again.”  

You slammed your hands on the arms of the wooden chair and shooting up on your legs, you smashed the cigarette that was not done simmering.  

“Z yes. I’m gonna talk to Tae. Call the rest of the Snakes together,” was all you said before you hurried inside the suite.  

Luckily, all of the members were inside already. You agreed not to roam around at night, especially alone, so it became a fixed routine, that all the Snakes are back in the suite around early evening, doing their own things, scattered around the place.  

As usual, Jisung and Winwin were on the floor in one of the living room’s corners, surrounded by cables and computers. Ten, Jeno and Yukhei were watching a video on one of their phones – something violent, judging by the crashing sounds blasting on full volume. Taeyong and Kun were bent over a pile of papers, thrown messily around on the coffee table. You sauntered over.  

“I have an idea.”  

Both of them flinched at the unexpected voice and the victorious cheer it held. Kun squinted.  

“What have you cooked up now, Z?”  

You jerked your head towards the couches and armchairs arranged into a half circle in the middle of the living room. That area became the core of the preparations, the talks, the planning.  

Shortly after the Snakes got comfortable, you began sharing your idea. Summing Taeil’s, Doyoung’s and your own ideas, you drew up the problems that you stand against – and how you should solve them. The attitude you should adjust to. When you finished with the problem-solution speech, you went quiet, waiting to see if they followed you, to see if they understood.  

After a beat of silence, Yukhei’s head shot up.  

“You’re gonna suggest we talk to the Shenanigans?”  

Taeyong’s eyes widened. Winwin let out a sound that might have been called a whimper. Jeno and Jisung grinned.  

You nodded.  

“I say we talk to the Shenanigans. Listen, if anyone knows the Underworld and its dealings better than us and other gangs, it’s them,” you ran your eyes over the members.  

“They are so disrespectful,” Doyoung whined.  

“What do you expect from a bunch of outcast kids?” Jeno shot back before looking at you and Jisung, who hasn’t said anything the entire time.  

“I like Z’s idea. I’m in. And you know what guys? You old people won’t even need to see them. Jisung and I can go talk with them, we are the same age anyways.”  

You let out an impressed hum and swung your legs over into Yukhei’s lap.  

“The two of you is not enough. You need more people, so maybe you should take Yukhei as well. They seemed to like him last time,” Taeyong tilted his head, “maybe you could bring the young royals with you too.”  

“Okay no need to go overboard now – “Kun spoke up, but you interrupted him.  

“Wicked. I like it. And maybe one elder for added authority and to show it’s a serious case.”  

“No more adults though. Yukhei and an older royal is borderline intolerable for the Devil’s spawns,” Doyoung drawled as he ran through a hand through his hair.  

Everyone looked at Taeyong, waiting to see what he says. Jeno and Jisung exchanged a quick glance and Yukhei played with the nail polish on your toes. You could see your leader mulling over the exchanged ideas and propositions, saw him weigh each of them.  

“We will need to execute these things as quickly and as quietly as we can,” he murmured then, drawing his cut eyebrow up. Kun and Taeil agreed with grunts of their own.  

“Then we will need to divide ourselves and the royals up. One team goes to the Viper’s Pit to recruit more Snakes, the other team goes with the young princes to talk to the Shenanigans,” you jerked your head towards Jeno and Jisung.  

Taeyong straightened up and said, “okay,” before heading towards the phone on the nightstand by the bed.  

Before you knew it, you were on your way to Prince Johnny’s suite with Taeyong and Doyoung flagging either side of you. Following the eldest prince’s instructions, you ducked into a hidden pathway that connected all the wings of the palace and was kept a secret even from most of the servants. It is the safest mean of travel for all of us from now on, he said.  

You chuckled to yourself as you listened to the loud echoes of your breaths with your leader and your fellow hitman. When exactly did you get to the point where you were allowed to visit the private suite of the Crown Prince? And exactly when did the royals stop worrying about the fact that with a single movement you could hurt them in unimaginable ways? You wanted to add ‘without feeling remorse’ but…that would have been a blatant lie.  You wiped the thoughts out of your brain.  

“Did you tell him to get the princes together?” Doyoung whispered over your head to Taeyong, who nodded in response.  

The walls around you were painted hastily in old fashion, and because of the damp, it started to fall off in some places.  

“Ceremonious,” Doyoung groaned as he inched sideways into a corner, so that he wouldn’t touch the blight, “is this really the means by which we’re gonna have to move around in the palace?”  

“Since when are you such a diva?” Taeyong murmured and you snickered.  

“He’s always been like this. How can you forget it?” you countered, then shuddered when a cold breeze kissed the back of your neck. Placing your hands in the pockets of Yukhei’s hoodie, you hurried your steps.  

“It’s getting colder here. Let’s hurry.”  

In about five minutes you arrived at the Crown Prince’s suite and as soon as Doyoung lifted his hand to knock, the door swung open. Johnny had a slightly dishevelled look, but you didn’t have time to observe him because he ushered you inside with hurried, frantic movements. With a frown, all three of you stepped inside the –  

You had no words.  

You had gone speechless.  

You doubted you had the appropriate vocabulary to describe the eldest prince’s suite.  

Staring, you took in the spotless interior. The walls were ivory white, and the entire place had a theme of black and white. The entrance led to a small foyer, where there was a spacious closet in which you could place your shoes and coats. He then led you into the living room and as you walked inside you could feel your feet sinking into the soft, white carpet that covered the entirety of the room. You wanted this material at your place too. You were going to have to Taeyong about it later on. The living space was huge. Enormous.  

There was a spacious kitchen to your right, as you stepped inside, and to your left – half of the living room was sunken into the floor, with a circle of black velvet couches, providing an intimate and cosy atmosphere to the people sitting there.  

It was so luxurious and clean, you felt reluctant to touch anything so you wouldn’t smear …. yourself on it. This was ridiculous.  

There are people on the street, you thought, who are starving and begging for money every day and these people have half their living room sunken inside the floor?  

You heard a low scoff beside you and concluded that Doyoung must have had similar thoughts.  

“Do you think the toilet flushes itself here?” he murmured into your ear and you had to clamp your hand to your mouth, so you don’t snort out loud.  

“Make yourselves at home,” Johnny said then and gestured towards the couches, “The others are here.”  

Indeed, the princes were scattered around the circle, wearing casual clothes. Yet again, you were glad that you wore a hoodie and sneakers instead of a full body tunic and heels. It would have been a little overkill. Placing your hands back inside the pockets, you stalked towards the royals, Tae and Doyoung following.  

Yuta, who had his back to you, turned around then, and glared your way.  

“We do have things to do, you know. You can’t just order us around to your conveniences.”  

Doyoung glared right back.  

“If it concerns your survival, damn yes we can order you around Highness. Unless, you find pompous meetings with ass-lickers more important than your skin, you are obliged to do nothing of course.”  

You clamped your mouth shut when you saw the expression on Yuta’s face. But he didn’t say anything else. That was perhaps the courtesy of Jaehyun, who placed his hand on his brother’s arm. You noted that his face was grimmer than usual and the skin under his eyes were a shade darker than usual. Not that you’ve observed him before.  

The other princes were sitting seemingly relaxed, chatting casually, but you caught their eyes following your every movement. Oh well. Turns out you generalised the thought that they began trusting you. Putting a light swagger in your step you flashed them a grin.  

The three of you sat on a segment that was left empty by the princes.  

You caught Jaemin’s eyes and he gave you an eye-smile.  

“So, what is the reason for this emergency call-together?” Johnny asked as he leaned forward.  

“We came to share an idea and plan we just came up with. We thought it was an emergency because it is important that we take action as soon as we can,” Taeyong said with authority in his voice. He smoothed his flaming hair out of his forehead and ran his eyes over the royals, “we will need to involve Your Highnesses in the implementation of the next task.”  

Jungwoo tilted his head, “which would be?”  

Doyoung took over.  

“Our team will have to be divided into two. We know that the previous missions resulted in more failure than success because how little men and information we had.”  

“One of the teams will have the task of heading to the Diamond Snake headquarters, the Viper’s Pit, and the other team will have to take a small trip outside the city to talk with the Shenanigans,” you explained, placing your chin on the back of your hand. You fought the urge to cringe from having all the princes’ eyes fixated on you. Especially now, after you spilled so many things from your past. Ten was right. You shouldn’t have said so much. The last thing you needed from them was their pity.

“Who are the Shenanigans?” Mark piped up, pushing his circular glasses up on his nose.  

Doyoung hissed, “A group of little fu – “  

“The Shenanigans are a group of boys,” you interrupted him with a pointed look in his direction, “they are a fairly young group who were outcasts. I wouldn’t say they are a gang or mafia because they don’t do dealings or jobs for higher class people. But they know how the Underworld works, where you can find gangs, mafias, how you can get to them. They know how to get information without anyone noticing, they are exceptional at blending in and working their ways through crowds and events.”  

“What is our role?” a low baritone voice spoke up then, sending chills down your spine. You glanced in Jaehyun’s direction but avoided eye contact. Taeyong took over.  

“We would divide both our inner circle and You Highnesses. The younger ones – Princes Mark, Renjun, Jaemin, Donghyuck and Chenle would be accompanied by Prince Jaehyun and Yukhei, Jeno and Jisung from our team. It is known that the Shenanigans don’t take too much liking to older people. We are certain that they have taken a liking to Jeno and Jisung because they are the same age, and also Yukhei who is…Yukhei, and he is liked by anyone. We thought to add Prince Jaehyun as well to take extra caution. One adult wouldn’t hurt anyone. That is, if it is alright with Your Highness,” your leader finished with a long breath.  

Jaehyun thought for a while and glanced at Johnny. There was a wordless conversation between them – something most siblings shared. You knew the feeling well.  

“Alright,” he said then, “I will go with them.”  

The young princes nodded vehemently. Their eyes shone brightly, and it made you believe that they were enthusiastic about having a chance to go on a mission and not staying in the shadow of their older brothers. You smiled at Jaemin who returned it with a wide grin of his own.  

Taeyong inclined his head.  

“Prince Jaehyun and our Jeno will then join the other team at the Viper’s Pit. We will be heading to the headquarters, as we mentioned earlier, to talk with the rest of the Diamond Snake members and recruit people who are trustworthy and fit for the job. The people going there will be Z, Kun, Ten, Princes Johnny, Jungwoo, Yuta and myself. We will need to stay there for a couple of days to make sure everything goes smoothly and without complications.”  

“What about the rest of your gang?” Yuta drawled.  

“I will need to stay here, as I am the Taeyong’s Second,” Doyoung answered, unfazed by Yuta’s icy tone, “Winwin will monitor everything from his computers and Taeil will assist me in sorting through materials for the next mission and other precautions we will need to take.”  

“Precautions?” Johnny asked. Taeyong nodded.  

“We were not careful enough previously. No mistake like that will happen ever again.” his voice held solid authority, even when he apologised. In his own way.  

The princes were quiet for a while, each deep in his own thought and the three of you waited patiently. Somewhat. Doyoung kept playing with the embroidery on one of the pillows until you slapped his hand away. He was this close to tearing it.  

Then to your surprise, Yuta spoke up.  

“When are we leaving?”  

The following morning’s cold breeze sent shivers down Jaehyun’s spine. He groaned as he pulled the covers further up on himself, so it was only his eyebrows and the top of his ruffled hair that was visible. Yuta had stayed in his suite for a long time the day before and honestly, now he wished he had kicked his brother out sooner than three in the morning. He gave himself three more minutes of snoozing, though he was everything but relaxed. Jaehyun knew that if he actually relaxes in that time period, he’s going back to sleep for the next couple of hours.  

With another groan he fought the covers back and sat up. He was not a morning person, and on some days, he was thankful that he was a prince with duties, otherwise he would have wasted his entire life lying in bed all day. It was 7.35 by the time he flung his jacket over his black button-up and left to join his brothers and the three Snakes at the circular driveway of the castle.  

He saw that his younger brothers had taken up on his advice the previous night - that wearing something casual but elegant might be the golden middle way, to stay true to themselves without offending the Shenanigans – who openly judged adults and lived life by their own rules. Unapologetically. He’s done all the research he could last night with Yuta, but this was all he could find online, in the darkest pits of the internet. He will have to interrogate Jeno more on who exactly they were going to see.  

The youngsters set a great tone, his brothers were joking around with the Snakes, and as he headed over to them, occasionally he heard Chenle’s high-pitched giggles and Yukhei’s boisterous laughter. There were only three bulletproof-ed cars waiting for them, not a police car or motorbike could be seen anywhere near them. Interesting. The first one to notice him was Mark. The younger one tilted his head to the side, so his light brown locks fell over his brows.  

“Brother,” he said as a way of greeting, “we were waiting for you. I thought we agreed to meet at 7.30?” his voice was not accusatory, only confused. Jaehyun sighed as he raked his fingers through his hair and glanced back at the castle.  

“Yuta came over to mine at ten.”  

Mark’s mouth shaped a silent ‘o’ and he nodded understandingly. He knew that if Yuta visited someone…it led to a discussion that went on for hours at least.  

Jeno stalked over and Jaehyun had to fight down the urge to wince. The Snake’s steps were near silent, even on the pebbles of the driveway, and he moved with serpentine grace. It sent chills down Jaehyun’s spine.  

“Are we ready to go?” he asked and cast an eye-smile at Jaehyun, “I just told your brothers that we will be divided into three, so we fit into the cars. Princes Jaemin and Donghyuck will be with Yukhei. Mark and Renjun will be going with our Jisung and Your Highnesses Jaehyun and Chenle are with me.”  

Mark and Jaehyun nodded and a quiet voice in the back of Jaehyun’s mind told him that he should consider himself to be lucky – one Snake in one car, and two Royals with them. If it came to anything unfortunate…no. It is not the time to think about betrayals or conspiracies. The Snakes were there to protect them. Not to divert the cars and crash.  

So, he followed Jeno to the car at the very front and with a reluctant gaze, he waited until all his brothers were inside. And then he got in.  

“I’m really excited,” Chenle said as soon as he buckled himself in, “I have heard more about the Shenanigans after yesterday.”  

Jaehyun flicked his eyebrows up and looked at Jeno who was sitting at the passenger seat. The motor whirred into life underneath them.  

“You have?” he asked his youngest brother. Chenle grinned at him, his eyes narrowing into cheerful slits.  

“Yeah! Jeno, do you want to tell Jaehyun more about the Shenanigans?” he grabbed the seat in front of him and leaned as far as his belt allowed him. Jeno shifted so he was sitting sideways and could look at them both.  

“What has Your Highness heard so far?” his voice was casual but his ebony gaze penetrated Jaehyun. The prince shrugged.  

“Not much. I have done a little research. The only thing I know from the internet is that the Shenanigans are rather young, and they don’t take kindly to adults.”  

Jeno nodded.  

“They are known as outcasts, kids who had nowhere to go because no one wanted to take them in, but that is a false myth. They have taken up the role of outcasts on their own will. The boys who join the Shenanigans were once abused by their families. Parents, mostly,” he’d glanced at Jaehyun who forced a mask of calm on his features, “many young people know about the Shenanigans, some consider them a legend, a myth, though. Too good to be true. The ones who were able to stand up to their parents and leave – or get away one way or another, searched for the group. But they were never successful. Instead it was the Shenanigans who found them.”  

Chenle squirmed in his seat but Jaehyun tried to hide his astonishment. To be able to stand up to abusive parents…and leave. How brave does one have to be? How bad does the abuse have to be in order to make teenagers flee their home? Jaehyun shuddered.  

“The Shenanigans are the modern Robin Hoods for the young generation that has lost hope and are scared to stand up for themselves. They embody freedom and independence. Defiance. Us, the gangs and mafias…we are tied down by our businesses, by deals and bets.”  

Jaehyun placed his elbow on the windowsill as he listened to the young spy. He felt like he was beating around the bush.  

“What is it that they do?” Jaehyun asked and Jeno’s eyes cut to him as he gave him an eerie grin.

“They do many things. Firstly, they defy the gangs. They refuse to swear loyalty to any of them other than themselves. Secondly, they steal. They steal from the higher ups. Lastly, they gather information about everyone and everything. Nothing misses their eyes and when I say all the gangs have been trouble figuring out how they do it, I don’t exaggerate. It is impossible to get a hold of them.”  

There was pride in Jeno’s voice and maybe a little longing. Jaehyun wasn’t exactly sure. Chenle looked at him with bright eyes.  

“Aren’t they terrific? Donghyuck and Jaemin and the others think so too.”  

The eldest frowned.  

“Why do they steal? And what do they do with the money?”  

The spy shrugged and laughed quietly.  

“I have absolutely no idea,” he mused, “it is their business. We haven’t tried figuring it out.”  

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, neither of them talking. Jaehyun caught Chenle smiling softly as he stared out through the windows and it didn’t take him a lot of work to figure out why. The last thing we need is a national scandal that the youngest prince has joined a bunch of thieves, he thought bitterly.  

He had to admit, the Shenanigans did sound appealing to a certain extent. To be free of all duties, to swear loyalty for no one but your family and friends…to be independent from it all. Curiosity burned in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to know more. He wanted to see it all. See how mafias operated, the deals, the missions – even the assassinations, as morbid as it sounded.  

His thoughts screeched to a halt and changed directions. Assassins… he thought of her, with teeth made of razors and eyes like simmering embers. Was she abused as well? Did she have to run away? Or was she born into it all? He thought of the times he watched her train – the way she moved. The sharpness and the precision – the same serpentine grace he saw and still sees in the other members of the Diamond Snake. But it was training – he longed to see it all in action. He longed to see her lunge and twist and stab and – why the fuck was he thinking about all this? Since when did he want to see someone end lives?  

But a voice whispered to him; she is not all edge and defiance.  

He thought of the look on her face when she saw the Black Spade conman with Chenle in the middle of the dancefloor that night…remembered his own rage and how he was glued to the floor, unable to move, to think. How he lost control and went with the flow. Got lost in it. And how she did not. He remembered the way her eyebrows spiked up in that pure, horrified expression. And the way it cleared out in the span of a single second, morphing into a look of murderous calm and arrogance. How she did not let go of his youngest brother’s hand until they were out of sight.

As he stared at splotches of green, orange and yellow passing by, he realised he knew nothing.  

That there was more underneath it all. Hearing her story about the conman and the intertwined history of the two biggest rivalling gangs of the country showed them all, him and his brothers, that there was so much more to these criminals.  

That there is a reason for why things happen. How people turn out to be.  

And how wrong they were for judging them.  

But then again, what if they chose this path…?  

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Jeno looked back with a surprised look.  

“Something wrong?”  

Jaehyun shook his head and sighed.  

“Just…there’s a lot on my mind,” a blatant understatement. The spy tilted his head as he continued to look at him with calmly. Calculating. Wondering. Jaehyun avoided his gaze. Tried not to cringe when Jeno smirked.  

“We are almost there,” was all he said before turning back.  

“Where are we meeting them?” Chenle piped up and leaned forward.  

“Outside the capital. That is all you need to know,” he looked back at the eldest from the corner of his eyes, “you can trust us. There is no conspiracy. If that’s why your head is so heavy, Your Highness.”  

Jaehyun didn’t know whether to feel insulted or amused.  

The warehouse by which they stopped, was gigantic, and isolated. Both irked Prince Jaehyun. It was ran-down, rusty and almost fell apart and he saw nothing or no one that would have indicated that the Shenanigans were there, waiting for them.  

As he stepped out of the car, a breeze of the early autumn air ruffled his hair. He took a deep breath. It has been a long while since he visited the outskirts of the capital – or the countryside, and he needed to take a moment to take in the solemnity and quietness of it all.  

“Oi, Chenle, I got fucking chills!”  

As soon as Donghyuck’s voice got to him, Jaehyun’s eyes snapped open. In the span of seconds, ten forms of irritation ran through his brain as he swirled in his brother’s direction. Then froze as he saw the way Donghyuck bounced in his youngest brother’s and Jeno’s direction – and threw his arms around both of them. Jaemin joined him from Jeno’s side. In the friendliest of manners. Without hesitation. Jaehyun could only gape as he looked around for someone who could be as outraged as him but…  

Mark got out of the third car along with Renjun and both of them were listening intently to something Jisung was murmuring to them. Nothing on their faces other than concentration and fascination as clear as the pond nearby.  

His eyes found Yukhei’s, and found the arsonist already looking at him. Yukhei gave him a challenging grin.  

Look what happens when status and prejudice doesn’t get in the way.

Jaehyun felt his ears warm up and he cleared his throat.  

Their steps were quick as they neared the doorless entrance of the warehouse, the younger ones leaving Jaehyun and Yukhei behind. The Snake had long, lazy steps, as if he was never in a hurry, had all the time in the world. Jaehyun, on the other hand, was tense as always when it came to a sudden meeting with a bunch of criminals. He had just started getting used to the Diamond Snake. He had to get his mind off this.  

“It’s curious,” he turned to Yukhei, “how you and my brother Mark are almost the same age, yet he doesn’t count as an elder like you do.”  

Yukhei shrugged and his eyes widened with a mischievous glint.  

“I guess it counts a little different. Your brother is seen mostly around the young ones and they seem to give off a really harmonised vibe, if Your Highness gets what I mean. Meanwhile I am a part of the inner circle, the oldest and most trusted part of the Diamond Snake gang. I guess that puts a little more to my age.”  

Yukhei glanced at the prince who watched him carefully.  

“Y’know, there is more to age than just numbers. Our family prefers not to distinguish based on age. That barely gives you valuable assets. Look at our Jisung. He’s a teenager, like Jeno, they would still be in high school… but they’ve been through things, Prince. Terrible things. And that makes them cautious, makes them listen and work hard so they do not have to endure those things again.”  

Jaehyun swallowed and had the same chill run down his spine when he heard the story of the Shenanigans. He dared not to ask what the two youngest members of the inner circle went through. He stayed silent and gave an understanding nod to Yukhei.  

The arsonist gave him an encouraging grin and lifted his arm, as if he wanted to slap Jaehyun in the back but he decided otherwise and dropped it. A pang of disappointment hit the prince.  

As they stepped through the eerie opening of the warehouse, many things came into Jaehyun’s mind. The first being that the warehouse was actually not empty and abandoned; it was filled with iron containers of many sizes, having gods know what inside them. The second was the stuffy smell, nearing on mouldy, and suddenly he did not want to know what was inside those containers.  

The third was that other than the two people sitting by a table in the middle of the main paved way through the containers, there was no one else.  

As Jaehyun looked closer, there were a bunch of chairs in front of the single table, Jeno and Jisung leading his brothers straight for them. He opened his mouth to object but Yukhei placed a hand on his shoulder.  

They stopped a few feet away from the chairs, giving Jaehyun time and space to take in the two figures waiting for them.  

The one who was sitting on a wooden chair was clad in a leather jacket, jeans and black combat boots. His hair was a tousled, curly mess of dark blond and his mouth was quirked in a pleasant, almost welcoming smile. His head was tilted, watching them carefully.  

Jaehyun fought his eyebrow so it doesn’t shoot up in the skies.  

The other person, the one who perched on the edge of the table, gave off a more mysterious and serious aura – this one reminded Jaehyun of the Snakes. The man – boy? – was not smiling like his partner, he had his eyes set dead on the princes entering. His arms were crossed tightly, but his legs were hanging loosely on the edge of the weathered table. He was clad in black, similarly to the other person, even his hair, which was so dark it was almost blue. His fingers were adorned with rings, all silver, all capable of leaving a nasty mark if he was to punch someone. He was not smiling. There was nothing on his face other than…boredom? He seemed bored out of his mind, even as his eyes zig zagged between the younger princes.

Only two? I thought there were more people in the Shenanigans’ group. Did they just send representatives?  

Yukhei must have noticed Jaehyun’s confused glare because after nudging him, he nodded his head around them, towards the top of the containers. Following his nod, Jaehyun looked and his heart almost stopped.  

From the shadows and darkness, without a sound, figures emerged.  

They were everywhere, scattered around the warehouse, on tops of the containers, between them, hiding out in the shadows. They stood still. They only watched. But it gave Jaehyun the impression that if he was to do anything reckless, they would not hesitate to lunge down, up onto him. He placed his hands deep into his pockets so he wouldn’t loosen his shirt that suddenly felt a bit too tight.  

Then the blond one spoke up, with a voice surprisingly soft and pleasant.  

“Jeno,” he said, “it has been a while. You got us all worried with your absence.”  

The spy smiled and his eyes scrunched up into their usual moon slits. He lifted his hand slightly to stop the younger princes a step away from the chair laid out. Yukhei and Jaehyun did not go nearer, and there was a container’s length left between them and the others.  

“You out of everyone should know, that it is way too difficult to get a hold of you, Chan.”  

Chan laughed, his plump lips widening.  

“I would have thought that the infamous Diamond Snake spies would at least try. We might have let you, right Minho?” he glanced up at his partner. The boy, Minho, only gave Chan a quick glance before continuing to observe them, but his arms loosened a bit.  

“How rude of me,” Chan continued as he finally stood up, and waved at the chairs, “please, guests, sit down.”  

Then, for the first time, Jaehyun thought, he looked over at the eldest prince and Yukhei. After giving a quick nod and a flash of a smile to Yukhei, Chan’s eyes settled on Jaehyun.  

“I’m afraid we have no more chairs. I hope that is not taken as personal insult to the throne,” his eyes did not leave Jaehyun’s and his voice suddenly took on a mocking, challenging tone. Jaehyun did not break his look away from his.

“By all means,” he said coolly, “pretend I am not here. I have no role in this meeting other than being an elder brother.”  

Chan held his gaze for a second and then his smile went back to warm.  

“Perfect. Now, let me introduce myself and my boys,” he sat back down and casually waved his hand around, “My name is Chan and I am the leader of the Shenanigans. I welcome you princes, Snakes.”  

His eyes ran through the boys perching on the chairs. Jaehyun could swear Chenle and Donghyuck shook slightly from excitement.  

“This here is Minho, my Second and my advisor,” he continued, “and soon, if the situation demands, I’ll call the others forward. But that’s it for now.”  

Jeno grinned and Jisung smirked at Chan, who leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees.  

“Now tell me,” he breathed, “the reason why you called us together.”  

[one-leaf-grimoire]

JuLisa fluff alphabet <3

I am depressed so this somehow happened when I was supposed to be working on a lab lol.

Nothing spicy under the cut, only wholesome fluff. <3

A ctivities - What do they like to do together? How do they spend their free time?

Incidentally, Julius and Lisa basically spend ALL their time together, since they work and live together in the same place. But when they’re able to take a breather, they enjoy cuddling somewhere, reading a book, or going on a walk somewhere outside the noble realm. It’s nice to get fresh air and it gives Julius a chance to track down any cool magic.

B eauty - What do they admire about each other? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Lisa would say that she admires Julius’s confidence and positivity. He’s a very optimistic person and she needed someone like that to rub off on her. She finds his eyes to be very beautiful, as well as his lips...

Julius would say he admires EVERTHING about Lisa, but more than anything her tenacity and determination. She’s worked harder than anyone else in the kingdom despite being beaten down again and again. He would also say that her entire being is the most beautiful... but above all her eyes. And legs. ;)

C omfort - How would they help each other when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Julius is usually the one who has to comfort Lisa. For a man who’s good with words, he knows that they don’t work in those low moments, and instead makes sure to hold her tight, a silent gesture to tell her that everything is going to be alright. 

But even though he’s strong, the pressure of his job sometimes gets to Julius. Wordlessly, he’ll bury himself in Lisa’s chest, and she strokes his hair and whispers things in his ear to help him calm down. You’re doing your best. You’ve done nothing but wonderful things for everyone. And for me, too. You’re good enough.

D reams - How do they picture their future with each other?

Absolutely, for both of them. Julius has wanted to marry Lisa since almost day one jafkdsl but he took it slow of course. Lisa is always a little scared to dream about the future but it fills her with joy. Marriage might not be at the forefront of her mind, since she would just be happy to be by his side for the rest of their lives. And of course... they both wanted to adopt children eventually and have a big family.

E qual - Which is the dominant one in the relationship?

Funny enough, Lisa is probably the more dominant one in the relationship (outside the bedroom but I won’t get into that lol). From the start, Julius has always been very careful about the power dynamic between them, since he’s the WK and all, and his solution was to let Lisa kind of take the lead in a lot of things, relationship-wise.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their each other? How are they fighting?

They really don’t fight all that much? If Lisa gets upset Julius can usually tell right away. If Julius gets upset, he’s quick to say something about it. But if it’s a rare, bad fight, Lisa usually retreats into silence until Julius comes to apologize. But like I said, they are fairly harmonious and even the fallouts of the “worst” fights only last an hour or so.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? 

Lisa is beyond grateful. She’d probably be dead if it wasn’t for Julius, and his presence in her life has changed it completely. As for Julius, meeting Lisa brought new meaning into his life that he didn’t before, and he was able to imagine a future for himself that wasn’t lonely and dedicated solely to his work.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from each other? Or do they share everything?

Lol it is VERY hard to hide secrets between them, so they usually tell each other everything. However, there’s a few notable exceptions to this, including when Julius managed to hide the fact that he met a future version of Lisa during the elf arc. He did tell her eventually.

I nspiration - Did they change each other somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Yeah! For Lisa, Julius was the one who finally convinced her to leave her old life behind and become a magic knight. And later, he inspires to her want to become the Wizard King one day, returning long-lost ambition.

For Julius, it’s the other way around. He was ambitious when he was young, and sprinted to the top as fast as he could. He had resigned himself to a life committed solely to his job, but when he met Lisa, all that changed. Not only did she give him a more human reason to protect the kingdom, but she opened up a new future to him that he never thought he would be able to pursue... he finally found something he could love more than the kingdom itself.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Both of them have many admirers but they’re both comfortable enough to know that nothing unfaithful would ever happen. However, Julius does NOT trust other men around Lisa ajksl and is not afraid to flaunt his status proudly if he feels like someone is trying to get friendly with her. 

K iss - Which one is the better kisser? What was the first kiss like?

At first it was definitely Julius. Lisa’s only kiss before him was quick and drunk, but luckily she was now in the hands of a master ;) Their first kiss was shared after Lisa was badly injured trying to stop an assassination attempt and their feelings were finally spoken. Over time, Lisa definitely grew to match Julius’s kisses :)

L ove Confession - How did they confess to each other?

At the same moment as their first kiss! Lisa realized that the reason she fought so hard was because she couldn’t bear the thought of Julius not being in her life, and Julius realized that Lisa meant more than the world to him. Holding her limp and almost dead in his arms was what hammered that point home for him. In the hospital later, he came to visit and they both ended up all over each other, and never wanted to let go again. :)

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Like I said before, YES! It wasn’t on Lisa’s mind until Julius brought it up, but she really wanted to. They were talking to each other about having kids, and Julius mentioned that, if they did, he would be expected to be married to the mother of his children. But he promised that he would do a better proposal later! Which he did... When Lisa came back from the Sea Temple mission, Julius took her up on the roof before pulling out a gorgeous ring, and asked her to “be my queen.”

As for a wedding, sadly they never got to have an official one. However, they eloped before the Royal Knights exam and sealed the deal. However, now that Lisa lives in a timeline where Julius is very much alive and well, they are still planning a large ceremonial wedding for sometime in the next year.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Lisa usually sticks to simple things like “darling” or sometimes “Juli~” because it sounds cute. Julius bounces between many pet names, his favorite being “sweetness” <3

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Before they confessed, both of them kept their card close to their chest. Lisa was slightly worse at this. Images of Julius were constantly dancing in her mind and she would often get distracted lol. When she was around Julius, just a mere touch or an intense look made her blush furiously. It was pretty easy for Julius to tell that something was going on with her.

As for Julius, like I said, at first he was able to stay calm, but rest assured he was freaking out all the time on the inside. But in private, he too got distracted easily and would smile to himself “creepily” (in Marx’s words). It was very hard for him to get any work done.

Once everything was out in the open, Julius was not afraid to show his feelings at the drop of the hat. Lisa still got very flustered about it but was very happy to know that she was loved.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Sadly, the two of them could not be upfront about the relationship for a long time. Lisa got into trouble last time someone found out about it, so they keep to themselves. But within the castle, Julius is very loving and doesn’t mind PDA at all. Lisa still is a little worried that someone from the press is going to find out, but is usually very eager to receive whatever he gives her.  

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Dyad. I’ll leave it at that ajkfdsl

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make each other happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Oh boy. As soon as Julius got a girlfriend it was clear that he was the epitome of the romantic type. He can be creative AND cliche, and both are just as sweet. Flowers, fancy dinners, romantic escapes to the countryside, he would do all of it at the drop of a hat for Lisa.

Lisa’s approach is less of the grand gesture type and more small things. Small gifts, quality time, that kind of stuff. 

S upport - Are they helping each other achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Absolutely. Julius has already kind of reached his goals but Lisa is a great help to him every day as he goes through his WK duties. As for Lisa, she doesn’t really have any future goals for a long time but wants the kingdom to prosper, so she helps Julius as much as she can.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Their relationship is very spontaneous. Both of them like to run off on a date at the drop of a hat, sometimes in the middle of a work day! But they do value routines too, especially when they’re winding down for the day.

U nderstanding - How good do they know each other? Are they empathetic?

After six years together, they know each other inside and out. Even without the help of a Dyad spell, they complete each other and are always open and understanding with communication.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

More than anything.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Lisa really likes curling up under Julius’s robe. It’s so soft and warm and it smells like him. When Lisa is away, Julius sleeps with it too because it smells like her. In truth... the two of them have the exact same scent but it’s the thought that counts lol

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Yes. :) Julius is a big softie and Lisa is a human space heater so their cuddle sessions are pretty mindblowing lol.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing each other?

Neither of them are very happy when they’re apart. Lisa deals with it a lot better, since she’s usually out training when she rarely leaves him. Julius is a lot more clingy and can’t focus as well when she’s gone. The nights are long and lonely for him, and he finds it very hard to sleep alone now.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Both of them are really secure in their relationship and it is not really in danger. However, both of them would do anything for the other.

[hansoulo]

Interrupted

Pairings - Javier Peña/Reader

Warnings - cursing, allusions to sex, spicy timez (no actual smut tho i'm a child of the lord 😤)

Word Count - 1.2k

Request - "With the sudden surge of dad!Javi fics, please bless us with some dad!Javi softness if you can? Something like where they're tired af parents tryna bang but they keep getting interrupted, and ultimately they do bang but it's all laughs and kisses and argjakdhjakjjdjf my heart 😭"

(A/N: I hope you like it anon!! dad!Javi makes me all kinds of soft so this was fun)

Javier got as far as the third button of your blouse before you heard a soft wailing sound. Groaning, he pressed his forehead into the flushed skin of your chest, his hands coming to rest down at his sides. You stood between his knees as he sat on the edge of the bed and he could make out your face against the faint light of the hallway, your eyes rolling back with the last ghosts of his fingers.

"Your turn or mine?" you asked, your voice still breathy and keening. Javier kissed the bare skin of your neck and stood up, letting his hands drift down to grip at your thighs. Swatting him away, you raised an eyebrow and pushed him back slightly with your hands on his shoulders.

"Javi," you warned, "María's crying."

"It's my turn," he admitted, giving a light squeeze to your legs before moving beside you to walk to the nursery.

"Later, okay?" you promised, pressing your lips to his cheek. He nodded, eyelids already growing heavy.

You sighed as he stepped out, letting yourself fall back onto the bed with a soft thud while trying to suppress the growing pulse between your legs. You loved your baby daughter, but she also made life damn hard sometimes. If she wants siblings, you thought, she needs to start sleeping through the night.

You waited for a few moments, listening to the sounds of Javier's voice as he soothed her. Smiling slightly when you heard him whisper in Spanish, you rubbed at your eyes and pressed a palm to your chest, trying to calm your quickened heartbeat. It was unlikely María would settle down any time soon, proving fussy and easy to wake. Javier would probably fall asleep sitting by her crib again, so her future siblings would have to wait. For tonight, at least.

Unbuttoning the rest of your top, you tossed it into a pile with your pants and climbed underneath the covers, burying your face into Javier's pillow. It smelled like tobacco and only served to heighten your ache for his touch.

                 ---------------------

When you said later that night you didn't think it would mean nearly two weeks after the fact. 

"She's sleeping now," you said quietly, walking back into your bedroom with a click of the doorknob.

Javier practically ripped your clothes off, enveloping your lips in his with a needy groan. His hands were everywhere, hot and scraping where the calluses of his palms met your skin, and it felt so damn good. Gasping in his mouth, you tugged at his shirt, face growing flushed with anticipation.

You felt him lift you up by your waist and press you to the wall. The plaster was rough against your back, but you couldn't give less of a shit. For the six months since María had been born, all you and Javier had time for was kissing, maybe a quickie if you got lucky. This was an extremely limited window of opportunity and you sure as hell weren't gonna waste any time.

You almost had the buckle of his belt undone before a high-pitched scream broke through the air, cutting your panting breaths short. More followed soon after, falling in a quick, piercing succession that was impossible to ignore. Cursing under his breath, Javier dug his fingers into your hips and pulled his lips from where they had attached to your jaw, looking up at you with heated eyes.

"Can't we just let her, I don't know, cry it out?" he mumbled, reaching down to the waistband of your pants. Smacking him lightly upside the head, you protested.

"No, you dipshit," you said, untangling yourself from his arms, "We can't just let her cry it out. I don't think her screaming makes for a great bedroom soundtrack, either."

Javier cocked his head, pretending to consider for a moment.

"We could just ignore it," he proposed, eyes latching onto the light hickeys across your neck. Rolling your eyes, you smiled and dove underneath his arms to settle the baby, hair still mussed and one bra strap falling down your shoulder. At this rate, the pair of you might as well just take vows of celibacy and make the whole thing official.

                   -------------------

María cooed as she chewed on a plastic teething toy, smiling as she was being strapped into the backseat of your parents' car. You stood near the trunk, loading in her bags and making sure nothing was forgotten. Wiping your palms on the front of your jeans, you stepped forward to meet Javier, who was leaning against the hood talking to your father. He was wearing those yellow aviators he knew you liked.

"So we'll see you next week, then?" your mother asked, her English tinged with a slight Colombian accent. You nodded, leading Javier's arm to wrap around your shoulders.

"We'll be back by next Tuesday," Javier said, looking over at María. You had both been called to Medellín for a week or so, him as a DEA agent and you at the Embassy as a program analyst. You didn't have to leave for another few days, but your parents had offered to take María earlier and both you and Javier had jumped at the chance. You weren't glad to be rid of your daughter, per say, but you weren't upset at the prospect of some time alone with your husband. You were over the fucking moon about it, actually.

Leaning over the backseat, you tickled at María's stomach and smiled.

"I'll see you soon, okay?" you promised her as you moved away from the car towards the door of your apartment. Javier stepped into your place and set his hand on her head, stroking his fingers through the down of her hair, dark and thick, just like his. You could see his eyes soften beneath the reflection of his sunglasses and your chest swelled when he pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

Your mother reached in for a hug before climbing into the passenger seat while Javier and your father shook hands. Waving as they drove away, you turned to him.

"So…" you teased with a grin, reaching up to fiddle with the collar of his shirt.

He looked down at you, amused, and before you could blink Javier had lifted you up by your legs and led them to wrap around his middle, surging forward to press his lips into the slope of your neck. Laughing at his impatience, you threw your arms around him and gripped his hips with your calves. You weren't entirely sure how he managed to get the pair of you back inside your apartment, but you were too preoccupied with the feeling of his mouth to care. So much for that vow of celibacy, you thought.

[simsadventures]

You’re a Tease (Loose Sequel to You’re Annoying)

Summary: You can’t help yourself but annoy Bucky. You made a step forward- from name-calling you now provoke him with your body. Will he snap or is his self-control strong enough?

Warnings: teasing reader, angry Bucky, smut- MUST BE 18+ TO READ THIS STORY!!, fluff

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Superhero Reader

Word Count: 2632

A/N: I felt like I needed to do a sequel to You’re Annoying. I loved writing the story and wanted to make it a little spicy. You don’t have to read the “first part” to read this one- she annoyed him, Bucky was pissed, then he kissed her to shut her up. Now we’re here. Enjoy xx

Masterlist

Weeks. It’s been weeks since Bucky kissed you suddenly, and ever since that, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. How soft and plump his lips were, how incredibly right he felt pressed against your body. 

  But, unfortunately, nothing happened since that night. At first, you held back, didn’t even tease him one bit, which made the team pretty suspicious. Sam would even feel your forehead, telling you that you must be fatally ill not to annoy the hell out of Bucky. 

  And because Bucky still didn’t do anything, you took matters into your own hands. You wanted to piss him so bad that it wouldn’t stop with the kiss. Nu-uh, a kiss wouldn’t shut you up this time. 

  You wanted to be as subtle as possible so that the rest of the team wouldn’t notice what you were doing. Wanda, of course, knew everything, but that was just because of her powers and because you couldn’t say no to her pouty face. You even managed to keep it from Nat, though you were quite sure she knew something was up. 

 You started with the little things, the obvious and notorious ones. You started calling Bucky names again. You kinda missed his pissed off faces every time you came up with something new. Like the other day, when you were both (along with Wanda and Vision) in the kitchen. 

 “Whatcha making, Bucknator?” He squinted his eyes and if looks could kill, let’s say you’d vanish from the planet Earth in a blink of an eye. “Oh come on, this one was good, you gotta give me that! Bucknator, like a terminator, huh? Nothing? Jeez, you’re a bore!” 

  You could hear Vision coughing to hide his little giggle, and you were happy at least someone laughed at the fantastic name! Bucky just turned around and walked away. Well, you still could get under his skin, even if it wasn’t his skin you wanted to get under. Wanda just looked at you, shook her head and continued her conversation with Vis.

  Another one of your jabs came after a mission. It was an easy thing- some pirates were holding people on their ship and expected a ransom, so you, Bucky, and Sam came in, saved the day and flew home. You were always sent on these kinds of missions- near water so you could use your powers to the maximum. 

  When you were loading everyone into the quinjet, you noticed that one of the bodies was laying near to you, and next to him was his electric baton. You chuckled under your breath and used water to bring it to you. You lowered the voltage to a minimum so that you wouldn’t actually hurt him. You weren’t a psychopath, after all. 

 You sneaked behind Bucky, who was currently talking to the pilot, took the baton, pointed towards Bucky’s butt, and struck. 

  He jumped up like a scared cat, and you lost it. You dropped the baton and just started laughing hysterically. You didn’t quite expect Bucky losing it too, only in the other sense of the word. Your laugh was cut short as you felt a metal arm closing itself around your throat and pushing you against one of the walls of the plane. 

 “You think you’re so damn funny all the time, don’t you? You’re being stupid and childish, and someone should teach you some fucking manners.” 

 He let go of your neck and marched towards the pilot, to tell him to “just set off already man!” and irritated walked to sit next to Sam, still not even looking in your direction. He was such a drama queen, you couldn’t even believe it.

 You then played little more unfair. You saw that just simple annoying wouldn’t make him fuck you senseless, so you pulled another card. You looked good, and you knew it, so you were about to use it to your advantage. Unfair, you knew that, but you needed him.

  You started training only in your sports bra and leggings. Even Steve had to do a double-take of you. You smirked and continued on your way to the mat. You had to spar with Nat, because as Tony said: “You won’t always be around water, and we can’t save your cute ass from beating all the time.” 

 He had a point, so you started training just like everyone else, and not only strengthening your mind. You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you, but you didn’t let him know that. You stretched, bent down multiple times so that Bucky could see your ass perfectly. When you finally stood up and went to spare with Nat, you looked over at Bucky, who was now watching your every move, like a predator watching his prey. It made you shiver, which you tried to hide by yelling at Nat to not take it easy on you.

—-

 Oh and she didn’t. You were leaving the training centre with multiple bruises, and what you were sure were a few cracked ribs. Even though Nat told you it was nothing, it hurt like a motherfucker. You kinda expected Bucky to make a move, but that night, and every other night, your bed was cold. You needed to up the teasing, and Tony provided a perfect occasion for you to do that. His birthday party. 

 Your body was still covered in some bruises because the team was really trying to show you just how much pain you could take in training. Those didn’t stop you from wearing a red satin dress, with a slit to your mid-thigh and a low neckline. You and the girls actually really tried to look presentable, so you spent the whole day pampering each other and doing each other’s make-up and hair. And the result was brilliant. 

  You even managed to talk Sam into going with you, though he knew about the tension between you and Bucky. You had to promise him to cook him whatever he wanted for a week, in exchange of possibly having his ass kicked by his friend. 

 All so dramatic! “Why would Bucky kick your ass, Sam? He always acts like I’m a fucking brat, nothing else.” 

 “Oh, trust me, Y/N. You might be a brat, but then he’s a fucking brat-tamer.” Well, you really hoped for you. You needed to be tamed so hard! 

 Once in the main room, you could see just how many people Tony actually invited. Not only were there other agents and lab techs, but also some celebrities and politicians. You knew you’d have to mingle and talk to all the important people in the room, and it made your eyes roll. You hated to mingle. You wanted to stay close to your friends, teasing the hell out of each other, and not try to be polite to people who don’t actually dive two damns about you. 

 But it was required of you all, so you kept your mind to yourself and started to make your way through the room. Around halfway through the crowd of pretentious people, you met with Bucky. 

 “Ah, Sargent Barnes, Miss Y/L/N, it is so nice to finally meet you!” the minister of defence hollered at you two, and even though Bucky looked like he wanted to continue to ignore you, he couldn’t. 

 You answered the minister’s questions, and even flirted with him slightly, seeing how it made Bucky uncomfortable. He was clenching his fist and setting his jaw, and probably thought nobody noticed his tense posture. It was when you touched minister’s arm and tilted your head to whisper something into his ear, that Bucky snapped.

 He apologised quickly, grabbed your upper arm harshly, and pulled you towards the dance floor. He then spun you, so you were facing him, gripped your waist and started swaying to the music.

 “What’s your problem, Barnes? I was having a nice talk with the gentleman!” You hissed into his ear.

 “A little too nice, don’t you think?” His grip grew even tighter, and you were pretty sure you’d have his fingerprints imprinted into your skin. 

 “Ouch!” You swatted his chest, and he let go, just enough for you to not feel pain, but still gripping you tight enough to not let you go. 

 “What is it, huh? I thought I was being stupid and childish? Maybe minister wanted to teach me some fucking manners,” you whispered the last part seductively to his ear, which only resulted in his metal hand travelling across your back, to the back of your neck. He gripped it tightly, and pulled you closer to him; so close, your noses were almost touching.

 “See, this is where you’re wrong, doll. He ain’t gonna teach you anything, ‘cause when I’m done with you, you won’t be able to walk for days, and then I’ll do it all over again.” A flame lighted in Bucky’s eyes, and before you could comprehend what was happening, he was kissing you.

 You forgot you were on a dance floor, you forgot you were on planet Earth. All that mattered at that moment was Bucky’s lips moving in sync with yours. He demanded an entry to your mouth, to which you obliged and let him explore you. Your whole body was singing with lust. You were so horny it actually physically hurt. 

 Bucky suddenly pulled away, probably aware of the place where you to finally decided to devour each other, interlaced his fingers with yours, and pulled you out of there.

 What you couldn’t see, was Steve, Sam, and Nat smirking like crazy at the events which unfolded in front of them. They all knew you two wanted each other, and that it was just a matter of time till you finally admitted these feelings, or whatever it was. They were all thrilled, both that you finally did something and that you took the doing of something more elsewhere. 

—-

 Bucky’s steps were full of determination. He always wanted you but didn’t want to start something which could possibly hurt you both. But the longer you annoyed and teased him, the more he realised just how much he wanted you. And when he saw you touching another man (and he wasn’t even talking about the fact Sam took you to the party, he’d kick his ass later), something inside him just snapped. He wanted you all to himself, and that was precisely what he was gonna get. 

 You pulled you inside his room and didn’t waste another minute, so he pulled you to him and kissed you again. This one was much slower, full of unspoken things between the two of you. 

 “I need you, sweetheart! So bad!” You could have sworn your insides melted when he said those words. You literally jumped into his arms, which took him by surprise a little, but he managed to keep himself standing, while you kissed him again. “I need you too, James.” 

 This did it for him. After the endless nicknames, you gave him, hearing you saying his first name made him dizzy. It sounded perfect coming out of your mouth.

 He threw you to his bed and climbed above you, to kiss down your neck and your collarbone. You held back a moan and intertwined your fingers in Bucky’s hair. He pulled the tiny straps of your dress off your shoulder and growled when he noticed you were braless. 

 “Such a naughty girl. What am I gonna do to you?” 

 “I’m yours, James, do whatever you want to me, please.” You were desperate for his touch. You could feel his hands sliding your dress down your body, till you couldn’t feel them anymore. You were left only in your panties, and you suddenly didn’t like the amount of clothes Bucky was wearing.

  “That’s unfair, James. I’m here almost naked, and you haven’t shed a thing yet? I think it’s time to change that.” You started to undress him, piece by piece until he was also left only in his underwear. You pulled the elastic band of his boxers until he was left standing there completely naked, at your mercy. You gripped his cock and smirked when you heard Bucky hiss above you. 

 You pumped him a few times in your hand, before you lowered yourself to the knees, and took him entirely in your mouth. He probably didn’t expect that as a string of curses left his mouth, and his hands clenched into two tight fists. 

 Before you could start moving properly, Bucky pulled you off of him. You pouted and wanted to protest, but he kissed you to shut you up. Again.

 “As much as I want that smart-ass mouth on my cock, I need to be inside you, baby girl.”

 You let him pull you back to your feet and pull your panties off. He stayed in a kneeling position in front of you, and before you could ask him what he was doing, he dived towards your heat. You spread your legs a little so that he could have better access, which resulted in Bucky humming excitedly into your core. This sent another set of tingles through your body, and you couldn’t do anything other than let this beautiful man devour your pussy. 

 You were nearing your high, but as if Bucky could feel it, he pulled away, and let you gasping for air, and crying for a release. 

 “Patience doll, I want you to come on my cock, after all, I’m teaching you some manners, remember?” His voice was hiding a hint of threat, but you couldn’t care less, as you saw him standing up, your juices spread across his chin, smiling like an idiot. 

 “Whatever, James, just take me finally.” You never needed to have sex more than in that very moment.

 Bucky didn’t hesitate and entered you in one swift motion. He let you adjust to his length for a second before he started pounding into you mercilessly. You wanted to cry for every holy person you could think of because Bucky was hitting all the right places while playing with your stiff nipples. But the only name on your tongue was his. 

 You were a breathless mess, whispering James over and over. He loved it. You were so tight he could barely breathe, and seeing your body writhing underneath him, your tits jumping with each thrust, he was a goner. 

 He bit your neck playfully while whispering sweet nothings to your ear. He could feel you were nearing your release and wanted nothing more than seeing your body blissed out. “Come on, Y/N. Come for me, doll. Wanna feel that tight pussy squeezing my fat cock.” 

 It took just two thrusts for you to come undone underneath him. Your toes curled, and a scream rippled through your mouth, sounding more like a wounded animal than a happy woman, but you didn’t have the energy to think about that. You kept your hands in Bucky’s hair, and praised him silently, which pushed him towards his own climax. He stilled in you, and you could feel thick ropes of cum filling your tight hole, and it only made your blissful state that much sweeter. 

  You were full of Bucky, and you never wanted to let go. When he pulled out of you, you gasped a little. When you looked at him, you could see he was watching his own cum streaming down your pussy and to your ass. “I could watch this forever, doll. You’re so pretty like this, little tease.”

 You pulled his arm so that he was lying next to you, and draped your leg across his torso. You kissed his bare chest and whispered, your eyes closing from all that excitement,” your little tease.” Bucky hummed in approval and hugged you closer to him. His little tease, he liked that.