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marvelsswansong · 10 months

Text

melting snow

summary: the subtle, obvious, sweet, and at times - dangerous - ways Coriolanus shows his love for you.

tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, possessive and lovesick!Snow, mostly fluff with light allusions to smut, significantly off-canon from movie (no lucy gray and no sejanus betrayal), CW possessive/dark behavior, graphic descriptions of murder, violence (it's only the last bit of this fic that's quite dark/violent, so feel free to read up until then. Please take care of yourself!!!)

☆ word count: 4.6K+ words ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

one: subtle praise

At the beginning, he would mask his true feelings and physical urges towards you with a tight lipped grin and a reserved compliment. Something that acknowledges something you've done objectively well, with a genuine softness that didn't apply to any of his other classmates, but seemingly delivered in a nonchalant matter to feign indifference.

"Great dodge." he'd say to you, both of your chests heaving from adrenaline during fencing class. You'd nod gently, a shy "thank you" leaving your lips.

But when Clemensia wins the next round against him, Coriolanus doesn't go above simply shake her left hand in courtesy before leaving the arena briskly.

"Well played." he'd joke, when it was revealed during the final student appraisal that you'd beaten Coriolanus' marks by a few points. Despite Archane and Felix throwing subtle jabs at his way for "losing" the star student title, you'd just shrug off the compliment profusely, praising him endlessly.

"A mere fluke, really. You're the brilliant student. I reckon I just study hard and get lucky." you'd reply, straightening the cuffs of your jacket nervously. The blonde always found it so endearing how bad you were at taking compliments.

So different from the rest of the scum in Capitol, he thought.

Eventually, he'd start to turn his verbal compliments towards things unrelated to your capabilities and work. And more towards things that were of a personal nature, like your looks and dress.

"Your hair looks very nice today." he comments one afternoon late after school, his shoulders brushing against yours as you both await your rides home. Your hands fly up to your hair, to the small crown of daisies adorning your head, as if you've almost forgotten what you were wearing.

"You think so?" you shyly ask, looking up at him nervously. "I wouldn't have worn it to the academy if we hadn't been called down on immediate notice. It's just that the family I babysit for on the weekends, their daughter just turned six and... well, she was very insistent on making me a flower crown."

He finds your embarrassment awfully cute.

"But I swear, when Dr Gaul turned to look at me today, I thought she was going to kill me."

Coriolanus only rolls his eyes playfully at that, knocking his shoulders against yours.

"And what would she know about first rate fashion? You look amazing."

It's the nicest compliment you've gotten over a silly crown of flowers, your heart warming and your breath stuttering at his words. It's what motivates you to lightly squeeze his right arm before you get into the car, your touch lingering in his mind long after you depart.

A month later, Coriolanus runs into you at the farmer's market on a Sunday. His instructions by Tigris to "buy some bread and oranges for tomorrow" are almost forgotten in one fell swoop when he sees you. Free from your usual academic attire, you're wearing a flowy lilac dress which sits right below your knees, the silky fabric glowing in the yellow sunlight.

"This color really suits you." he decides to whisper in your ear after discreetly sliding into the space next to you, the action so sudden that it causes you to jump. Your shoulders soften when you recognize his striking blue irises, and then you pout, punching him right in the chest.

"You scared me, Snow." you jokingly scold him. "And where are your manners? You should always introduce yourself first to a lady."

He pretends to be wounded by that, hand on heart whilst leaning backwards.

"My deepest apologies. Would this help?" he asks, effortlessly pulling a white rose from his back pocket. He revels in how your gaze lightens up in awe and amusement at the gesture.

"Perhaps so." you reply back, fingertips brushing against his.

The blonde takes it as a sign to slide it behind your ear, the memory of your etheral form with his flower tucked behind your right ear etched into his mind before you're called away by your friends.

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

two: soft touches

Once he's sure that his feelings are reciprocated, Coriolanus would start to step the line over into something more serious. He's not willing to open up immediately nor is he necessarily a man of romantic prose. A large part of him is scared, even, of the way you make him feel.

After all, what is love if not vulnerability?

And how he could be vulnerable with you, a woman so far out of his league, widely adored and your family amongst the wealthiest in Panem?

So it would start off when the class seating arrangements are changed and you're seated next to Coriolanus for the remainder of the year.

He'd start to purposefully spread his legs a little bit wider than usual, his knees always brushing against yours.

He'd take every chance he could to lean over to explain something to you, his face a few inches away from yours, if you ever seemed stuck on a question.

He'd open the classroom door for you in the mornings and offer to carry your heavy textbooks back to your family's car after school, insisting that it was because he wouldn't want you to trip on your heels. And if you'd ever insist on carrying the books on your own, he'd keep a gentle hand on your upper back to keep you upright "in balance."

Once, whilst presenting a speech at your father's fundraising dinner that you'd stayed up all night preparing for, you accidentally lose track of your speech. You stumble on your words, voice cracking in panic as you start to scan the page of thick text, all of which suddenly seem jumbled up and nonsensical.

Sensing distress, Coriolanus' hand quickly moves under the table to squeeze your left hand (hanging by your side) in a reassuring manner.

It's only then, somehow, that you find yourself able to re-focus on the printed text and continue your speech. Afterwards, you squeeze his hand back and whisper your gratitude.

"I owe you, Coriolanus."

Another time, it's a formal ball being hosted by the academy to mark the holiday season. After a few drinks, you're tipsy and manage to drag your friends up towards the balcony, despite it snowing outside and being below zero degrees.

Cautiously watching your every movement by where he's leaning by the bar, Coriolanus quickly makes an excuse to exit the conversation he found himself trapped in, before walking outside towards your shivering figure.

Your dress certainly isn't helping your situation, it being a satin slip dress with sleeves and a conservative cut out by your shoulders. It exposes your chilled skin as you rub the naked space with your arms, your staggered breaths coming out in white puffs of smoke.

"Corio! What're you doing he-" you start to walk towards him but nearly trip, his arms coming to supporting your body last second to save you from falling completely on your face.

"You shouldn't be outside in this weather." he comments, amused, as he helps you find your balance once more. But you refuse to re-enter the ballroom, choosing to instead excitedly ramble about how wonderful winter in the Capitol is and how you can't remember where you've placed your bag.

Listening earnestly to your ramblings with a smile on his face, he quickly shakes off his blazer.

"May I?" he asks. You blink slowly, heart fluttering at the gesture.

"O-okay."

The boy then carefully drapes his blazer over your shoulders, the act immediately enveloping your senses in his signature smells - oakwood and rose. Your fingers clutch the lapels of the jacket, your nose burrowing in to the softness of the fabric.

"Are you sure you won't be cold?"

He's freezing, of course, but he keeps his posture straight and tuck his hands into his pockets.

"I'm just fine. Don't you worry about me."

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three: nicknames

Once you two become an item, Coriolanus moves on to calling you affectionate names.

Of course, he'll prefer to call you by your name in professional settings - like during a presentation, in front of the Academy staff, at formal galas and dinners - but when it's just the two of you, or around people you both trust, or when he's jealous -

He almost never calls you by your name.

Darling is the classic, lovestruck expression he uses when he's being his most vulnerable. It's what he whispers into the gap underneath your neck when he's waking you up in the morning, landing kisses across your collarbone during sunrise. It's his greeting when he surprises you with a bouquet of flowers on your birthday, right before he whisks you away to a trip to district 1. It's what he cries into your hairline when you are hospitalized following a rogue rebel explosion on your trip home.

"Darling... darling, can you hear me?"

Coriolanus' voice is foggy, your head still ringing from the loud explosion earlier, but your heart still races at the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand on yours. Throat croaking, you try to respond with an affirmative "yes", to which your boyfriend responds by quickly grabbing a near by cup of water.

Gently guiding the glass to your lips, he treats you as if you're a fragile porcelain doll: smoothing down your hair gently and fluffing up your pillows to lay you back down. It's only then that you get a good look at him under the flickering lights - the bags under his eyes look heavy, his usually neat hair a complete mess, his blue irises blood shot.

"Have you been sleeping, Corio?" you ask, worried, your thumb rubbing circles onto his palm. He chokes up at that, shaking his head sideways with a sad smile.

"How... how could you ask me that, darling? You've been in the hospital for days."

"I hope that doesn't mean you haven't been sleeping for days." you quip back, raising your eyebrows. Your boyfriend opens his mouth to lie, but the twitch of his lips gives him away. So you instead shift towards the left of your bed, making space for him on the mattress.

"Come on you silly man."

He smiles a guilty grin before snuggling up next to you, letting out a heavy sigh of content at your warm body against his.

Petal is his sweet, infatuated name for you when he's referring to you in conversation or calling out for you in front of friends and family. Tigris never fails to tease Coriolanus for the name, but he doesn't mind it - you're his flower, his precious petal.

"I can't believe you think this is ugly." Tigris sighs at the dinner table one night, shuffling through the myriad of designs on the desk. "This was going to be the design I send off to the boutique tomorrow."

"I didn't say it was ugly, I just think this design is far nicer." Coriolanus responds, pushing forward the blue design in front of him. His cousin pouts at that, clearly unsatisfied with his answer.

"Petal-" Coriolanus calls out for you, where you're cooking with grandma'am in the kitchen. "Could you come in for a moment?"

When your confused face pops into the room, Tigris quickly calls you over, dramatically stretching out her arms to grab you.

"Mr Snow seems to think this design - the gold sweetheart dress with lace trimmings - is uglier than this blue version. What do you think, (Y/n)?" she earnestly asks, pushing over the two designs to your direction. You shuffle through the papers intently, studying each drawing up close, before ultimately taking Tigris' side.

"I'd say your eye for design is impeccable, Tigris. And that Coriolanus should perhaps stick to things other than fashion."

That makes both grandma'am (who is listening in from the kitchen) and Tigris, burst out in laughter, with the latter throwing her arms around your waist in a sideways hug.

"Ah, I knew you were my favorite for a reason." she jokes.

"Petal, you wound me." your boyfriend jokes, a small scowl on his face for show. Though, when you lean down to kiss him, the scowl easily melts away.

My doll is what he calls you when he's driven sick by jealousy and possession. As, much to Coriolanus' distate, you have many admirers - due to you coming from a wealthy family and being a well known socialite in your own right.

Coriolanus has never liked Felix Ravinstill, but he swears his hatred for the president's son only tripled after you and Coriolanus became an item. Felix was never shy about his attraction to you - the forward compliments, the invitations to his house after school, the rush to sit next to you during lunch periods. But now, the blonde thinks, it's getting full on desperate.

As you sit reading a book in the hallways of tha academy, waiting for Coriolanus to finish his talk with Dr Gaul, the dark haired boy decides to chat with you. When your boyfriend opens the door discreetly, upon hearing your voice mingle with someone else's outside, his vision nearly turns red at how close the other man is to you.

You're pointing out something in your book to Felix, your innocent eyes fixated purely on the black and white text and thus completely missing how shamelessly the man next to you is eyeing you up and down. It takes Dr Gaul's shout - "actually, Ms (Y/n), could we have a word regarding your last proposal" - for Coriolanus' rage to slowly fade.

Instead, he starts to feel cold, hardened logic putting a plan into motion.

And once you're inside the classroom, Coriolanus doesn't hesitate to slam Felix up against the wall, making sure to angle the boy's head to hit directly against a marble statute. The impact isn't hard enough to crack the man's skull, the last minute measurement in Coriolanus' head ensuring that he wouldn't be punished for injuring the president's son.

But he makes sure that the impact hurts enough to leave a mark.

It makes Coriolanus' heart twist in pleasure.

"You better leave my doll alone, Ravinstill. She's not interested in you. She's never been interested in you." he spits, snarling like a ravenous dog.

"You're delusional, Snow, if you think she'd ever want to stay with you." Felix manages to spit out, trying to wiggle his way out of the taller man's hold, but Coriolanus is too strong.

"You're the only delusional one here. It's pathetic, really. All that money and social connections in the world, and it'll never be good enough for my doll."

Coriolanus can tell that hit a nerve with Felix, so he lets go of the shorter boy, nearly throwing him away to the side in the process. Pride and ego surges through his veins when you appear and call out for Coriolanus, so the blonde makes a concerted effort to kiss you fiercely for show.

His arm snaking around your shoulder to pull you right up against him, a devious smile on his lips.

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

four: lavish gifts and deep marks

Things only escalate once Coriolanus' tribute ends up winning the hunger games and he's crowned the winner of the Plinth Prize. Now saddled with money, reputation and a full ride scholarship to the university funneled by the Plinth family - he finally finds himself able to spoil you in all the ways possible.

Fresh flowers adorn your windowsill every morning. The finest jewellery and newest luxury bags are delivered to your doorstep at random. Perhaps most impressive of all, he buys a two bedroom apartment near the center of the Capitol for you two to move into.

"How'd you..." you can't even finish your sentence when you first see the place: the prime location, the high arched ceilings, the stainless marble... He hadn't even allowed you to pitch in any of your own - or your family's - money to buy the place, insisting that it was to be a complete surprise.

His arms come around your shoulder to hug you close, swaying you from side to side.

"Generosity of the Plinth family and the spoils of being the victor, darling." he drawls in your ear.

You're still in awe, hands tracing the intricate patterns of the roman columns supporting the ceiling, when he starts to tug you up the stairs.

"Would you like to see the view from our bedroom? It's magnificent."

Of course, Coriolanus' new elevated status and recent memory of acting as a mentor in the hunger games - planning, guiding, and having a role in the extended play of human lives - it all makes him quite obsessive and possessive of you. Given that you're one of the few people in his life who has known him for years now, before he was a mentor and before had all this money and status...

He has to make sure to keep you in his life. He's made a lot of enemies, after all, many of whom would like to harm him. And with his undying love for you, hurting you becomes an attractive option for his enemies.

So Coriolanus gets more possessive by becoming more shameless in public. He'll gladly call you his love in front of crowds of hundreds. He'll kiss you breathless and squeeze your lower back if he thinks a man is staring a bit too long at you. And when he knows you two will be separated for a few days - usually due to him having to travel out of the Capitol on business matters - he'll leave bite marks on your neck.

You didn't even think about how noticeable the marks might be when you rush out of bed one morning, having promised to attend an engagement dinner of a fellow classmate, Clemensia's. Your rude awakening comes when, mid-way through the rehearsal, Sejanus leans over to quietly ask if you've brought your foundation with you.

You scrunch your face at the odd question.

"Uh, yes... I have a powder compact in my bag, why?"

Your friend smiles at you apologetically, before motioning to your neck.

"Because, (Y/n), it looks like a vampire has bit you."

And when you look at your reflection in your wine glass, it's clear that you have odd, dark, bite shaped marks littering your collarbone and neck.

Later in the week, when Coriolanus has finally returned from his business trip, you try and scold him for it.

"I nearly died of shame, Corio. Seriously, you should've seen how Arachne was looking at me the whole night." you sigh, just as he laughs.

"You're over thinking it, darling. Besides, you weren't complaining when I was leaving those marks on you on Tuesday."

You open his mouth to scold him again, but find yourself unable to mutter a smart response, your thoughts flying away when he's back to attacking your skin with his mouth.

After all, you're like a drug to him - he can never get enough.

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five: killing for you

Once Coriolanus is sure that you're not going to leave him, he finds it appropriate to take it to the next level: marriage. He drops a few thousand dollars on a large diamond ring, a ring which he makes sure you never take off (except in the shower).

At this point, the thought of losing you nearly equals his fears of losing everything he's built so far: becoming wealthy, powerful and well known amongst the Capitol's elite. He's terrified of living in a world without you and so he considers anyone who is deemed a threat must be dealt with in a secure, efficient manner.

No mercy, no hesitation.

After all, Coriolanus thinks one night, whilst sharpening a spare knife in the kitchen: if you give a rebel an inch, they'll run a mile.

The first person he kills is a security guard who fails to do their job correctly in protecting you.

He'd been hired by Coriolanus to protect you in your daily transport from the mansion to anywhere outside the Capitol (most often, to districts 1-3 to support your family's business dealings). But the bodyguard had failed to protect you one fateful winter day, leaving you to stumble back home with a twisted ankle and a busted lip as your bodyguard was only able to neutralize the threat after a few minutes of tussling with the gang's leader in the snow.

Your fiancee was fuming, sending you off to a near by hospital with grandma'am, before he motioned for your bodyguard to come downstairs to the empty garden.

The blonde didn't even feel an ounce of sorrow as he pulled the trigger, simply ordering the next bodyguard he'd hired to do the messy job of disposing of the body.

The second person he kills is a rebel who attempted to sneak a bomb underneath the car transporting you to the Capitol, following Coriolanus' announcement as candidate for the presidency.

The rebel was apprehended by the security detail team pretty quickly, so fast in fact that you weren't even made aware of the threat on your life. All you're told that day by Coriolanus' subordinates is that "there had been a change of plans" and you were to go to a fundraising dinner at an art museum instead to raise funds for the campaign.

And whilst you're off at the dinner, making a passionate speech for his presidency, Coriolanus makes an order for the rebel to be dragged out into the fields.

"You dare threaten the love of my life?" he sneers into the rebel's face, which is already bloodied and broken beyond recognition. The animalistic rage pumping through Coriolanus' veins is unlike anything he's ever felt before, and the gun in his hands suddenly feels like too much of a merciful ending for the rebel's crime.

"Just kill me." the rebel spits, but that only makes Coriolanus let out a sinister chuckle.

"Don't worry, I will. But I think a gun shot will be far too quick."

Instead, Coriolanus orders the man to be placed into a cage - a prototype that was being designed as a trap for the next year's games - and for a tub of venomous snakes to be released.

Whilst the other workers in his campaign look away from the horrific sight, Coriolanus just stares in great interest and pride. Once the screaming dies down, he calmly disposes of his bloodied shirt and hails a ride to greet you at the museum entrance.

"All good?" you ask, noticing an odd expression on your lover's face. But he just kisses you lightly on the lips, chuckling.

"Of course, petal. Why wouldn't it be?"

And so on and so forth. Whether it's directly or indirectly, Coriolanus becomes ruthless in securing your safety and your love. And he's so good at hiding it, he thinks, until one day he becomes a bit sloppy.

It was supposed to be an easygoing dinner at the mansion, a wealthy donor - his top donor, his campaign manager had informed him - named Robert Hemingworth had requested a private dinner. Coriolanus intially wanted to refuse, hating the thought of inviting a stranger to his home, but both you and his campaign manager agreed that it was best to play nice given the money at stake.

"For your troubles." Robert had said on his way in, a snarky smirk on his lips. In his arms were a basket of wines and grapes worth a pretty penny, but Coriolanus couldn't help but think that there was something about the brunette's gaze that he didn't trust. But with pursed lips and a fake smile, he forced out a thank you and invited the man into the foyer.

"What a... charming little abode." the oil tycoon had drawled, his gloved hands tracing along the walls. The sly comments and odd compliments (in truth, backhanded compliments) continued through out the night, all the way from appetizer to the main course. Sipping on copious bottles of red wine in an effort to keep himself grounded, Coriolanus was managing to keep his temper down until the older man asked about your whereabouts.

"Will your charming fiancee not be joining us?"

He froze at the man's questions, the hungry look in the millionaire's eyes and the underlying threat weighing down the atmosphere. The desserts had now arrived, two maids scurrying in with small plates of bread pudding, both of whom Coriolanus quickly dismissed with a wave of his hand.

"She's out with Tigris. Dress shopping." he'd decided to leave it at that, his left hand squeezing his glass so tight the glass started to crack. Coriolanus had hoped the man would leave the discussion there, as he wasn't sure what he was capable of doing if the older man didn't.

But the man continued. A disgusting moan escaping his lips in satisfaction after biting into the pudding, a devious smirk on his lips to match.

"Ah. Well, what a shame. I was hoping she would be part of the dessert."

No sooner than those words leave the millionaire's mouth, Coriolanus' left hand grabbed the knife laying on the board in front of him, where moments ago the maids were cutting cheese and ham. He then brings the blade to swiftly meet the older man's stomach, white dress shirt staining crimson red, all the while Coriolanus refuses to break the man's gaze.

"You fucking disgust me. Everyone in the Capitol fucking disgusts me one way or another, but you? You dare invite yourself to my home?" he retracts the knife, before stabbing it back into the suited man's flesh, each pause accentuated by another driving force.

"You dare speak about my love in such a vulgar manner?"

"You dare insinuate such sinful acts with my beloved?"

"You dare try and buy your way into her body?"

The marble floors are now flooded in a sea of red, the man's dying chokes and Coriolanus' heavy breaths overwhelming the room. The room stings of the smell of copper when you enter the space, quietly closing the door behind you, as you were only able to see the man on the floor and your boyfriend standing on top of him from the entrance.

"Corio? Love?"

The blonde turns around at the sound of your voice, face etched with annoyance.

Annoyed that you'd have to be subject to a vulgar sight like this. Annoyed that he'd stained your new kitchen set with an unworthy man's blood... And most of all, annoyed that he can't tell what you're thinking: your face kept completely neutral as you slowly approach him.

"You're back early." is all he decides to say, testing the waters.

You look down at his hands, soaked in hot blood, then down at the man who is writhing on the floor.

"Found what we wanted quickly, I suppose." you reply, stopping next to Coirolanus before leaning down to get a better look at the dying man. "Right, what was his deal?"

"Hm?"

It's only then that your plain expression breaks, your usually light eyes swimming with sinister charm, a coy smile breaking out on your face.

"Come on, Corio. You don't seriously think I didn't notice the amount of odd stains on your cufflinks? Or the terrified looks the house servants give you since the beginning of our engagement?"

He blinks, surprised. Coriolanus had always assumed he was covering his tracks well. Or that, at the very least, you'd have something to say about it all.

"He was making rather vulgar comments about you, darling. The bastard seems to have been making donations in an effort to get closer to you." he slowly explains as you stand back up, nodding slowly.

"Hm... Yes, that is rather concerning. And I suppose you've gone too far ahead for us to save him, always the temperamental lover you are." you tease.

Your humorous response and your unwillingness to run away from the darkness of the situation, it awakens something fierce in Coriolanus that he hasn't felt for you before.

"I suppose."

The euphoria he feels when your delicate fingers lace his to grab the knife instead, before you finally drive the blade down and end the man's life, is indescribable.

"I think you owe me a new dress." you say quietly, dropping the knife onto the floor.

The blonde wastes no time gathering you up in his arms, kissing you so fiercely that it almost hurts your neck.

"I think I owe you more than that, darling. How about the entirety of Panem?"

He'd do anything for you. The entirety of Panem be damned.

a/n: omg this has got to be the darkest piece of writing + fucked up ending I've ever written in like years of writing on tumblr 😅😭 but idk I'm obsessed with an idea of Corio's partner being someone who embraces him wholeheartedly and surprises him by being darker than she seems on the surface.

please leave a like/comment/reblog/ask if you've enjoyed, your support is what motivates me to write!

ALSO I've just re-opened my requests bc I would love to receive some corio fic ideas, so please send in your corio thoughts if you have any 🥺🥺🥺

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #coriolanus snow fanfiction #thg x reader #the hunger games #1k #2k #3k #4k #5k

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biteyoubiteme · 3 months

Text

redlightdesign

fem!reader x hyunjin

synopsis: you get tattooed by your favorite tattoo artist.

warnings: !!!🔞!!! tattooartist!hyunjin, tattooing, needles, pain, oral (f!rec), use of teeth, overstim, multiple orgasms (f!rec), squirting, fingering, pussydrunkvibes, subspace kinda, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 5.2k

an: I want a new tattoo </3 feedback appreciated! [m.list] not proof read sorry ;-;

You didn’t think you would ever get a consolation let alone an appointment with redlightdesign. For over three years you have been submitting a request anytime their books were open. You set timers for when the form dropped to make sure you were one of the first to be seen but everyone was doing the exact same thing.

redlightdesign would make an announcement that the submissions were closed an hour later saying they were booked solid for the next three months. The process repeats itself and every time you pray you get a response.

Thirteen forms later and you finally got an answer. Your dream tattoo will be underway in a matter of weeks. You made sure to keep the perfect space open for the piece. Not a single artist is the right fit to do your idea justice the way Redlightdesign could.

Before you read the email you didn’t even think you would ever be picked, your thigh would just always be bare for the possibility that never would come to fruition. But sitting in a coffee shop on a Sunday morning avoiding finishing your homework for Monday's class you jump on the opportunity to check your phone when it dings. Post notifications for redlightdesign on since you started following them. Every time they announced open books or a dropped appointment you jumped to put yourself up for the running. You remember the magazine article Redlightdsign had been featured in that started your obsession. The anonymous tattoo artist is based in Seattle and New York, traveling across the states to get a wider audience. Not that they needed the help, they were globally known, with people submitting forms all around the world, purchasing plane tickets after they confirmed an appointment.

It was stiff competition and the anonymity of the artist was sacred to each client. There was barely any information about Redlightdesign on the internet besides the finished product, and the address to their studios was only given out just before your appointment. Once the details of the New York studio had been doxxed online and redlightdesign had stopped working for a year, packing up and shutting down in well deserved retaliation. When they came back to their socials they made it clear the next time they wouldn't stop for a year but quit entirely. No one shared any information after, only stating that Redlightdesign was one of the nicest people they have ever been tattooed by and a photo of the beautiful work after.

But there sipping on an almost empty drink avoiding work that needed to be done you felt your pulse race just like every other time you've submitted a form. Only this time your stomach bottomed out seeing the email that popped up in your inbox a few minutes later.

h.rldesign/gmail.com Hi, I love your idea and sketches. I think this would transfer perfectly in my style. If we are to do the piece on the thigh at the size you want I think it's best we split the work into two appointments. My open slots for this would be January 9th and 10th. Let me know if these dates work for you and then I can get started on designing and cleaning up your idea. -redlightdesign

even just knowing their email address was shocking enough, seeing a response could have sent you into a coma. If Redlightdesign needed you on the 9th and 10th you would do everything in your power to be right at their door. You didn't care if you had to call in sick, you would put on the most convincing fake cough known to man; you would sell out stadiums with the performance if need be.

You couldn't type a response fast enough, needing to send in a confirmation just to know it was solidified. Within seconds you got a link for a deposit to hold the dates and a promise that Redlightdesign would be working on your piece asap. You were too excited to even think about your work anymore, sitting in the coffee shop staring down at your phone in disbelief.

It was only a few days later when the first drafts of the tattoo you would be getting were sent over for you to approve. You could tell the work had been drawn in a sketchbook and scanned to send in an email, the charcoal lines and highlights showing the detailed work. It was everything you could have hoped for, redlightdesign taking the amateur rendering of your idea and turning it into the masterpiece sitting in your inbox. They promised to have perfected versions ready when you arrived early on the ninth, reminding you that they would transfer it into the stencil and use a pen to finish drawing the finishing touches to make sure it flowed with your body just right. Make sure to eat before the appointment and don't wear any lotions on the tattoo area. Take care to remember we can take as many breaks as you want you have the day booked up with me so no need to rush through just to get it over with.

You made sure to dress appropriately. A pair of shorts you didn’t mind getting ink on in case any decided to ruin them. It was cold the morning of the ninth, a drizzle setting in as you made your way towards the address you had been sent before you had woken up. Even just seeing the street name and knowing this whole time you’ve been a fifteen-minute walk away from Redlights studio was bizarre. How many times have you driven by the building without ever knowing?

The email with the address had said the door would be open and to take the stairs up to the loft. The separate space on the ground level was a bakery, the sign flipped to closed. But as you felt the first droplets of rain you pulled on the handle for the door only for it to not budge. You check the address again to make sure it is right, you can see the windows to the studio above but the curtains are pulled shut. You were running over the email you could send to redlightdesign, reading it over once more when someone reached past you making you jump. “holy shit you almost gave me a heart attack,” you breathe your phone pressed to your chest.

The soft laugh of the person beside you is muffled behind the black medical mask they wear, long dark hair hanging on their brow leaving only smiling eyes glancing over you. “I'm sorry I was running late and didn't make it in time to beat you here,” they push their key into the lock twisting until it clicks, painted nails wrapping around the handle to hold the door open for you.

You give a weak thanks stepping into the little hallway leading to the stairs waiting for them to step in and follow.

You're trying hard not to make it seem like you're staring at them but it's almost impossible not to. Right in front of you is the person whose identity has been hidden from the public for years. You've tried to imagine what redlightdesign looked like since you read that magazine article. Now with the early morning mist still stuck to their hair you were seconds away from knowing exactly what they were like. Watching how their long fingers flipped over the keys looking for the one to unlock the loft door, how they used their shoulder to push open the door turning back to give you smiling eyes, waving you in.

They moved around to pull open the long cream-colored curtains, the gray light pouring in revealing the space. The walls have tacked up charcoal drawings, painted landscapes, and oil pastel flowers. A worn brown leather couch pushed to one side, heavy white blanket pushed back like someone had taken a nap there against the throw pillows. Tattoo bed next to rows of inks and past designs. On another wall a cluster of polaroids, stepping closer you can see its every tattoo that redlightdesign has done here. You're excited to see ones they haven't posted on their socials, so distracted you don't hear a closet door opening and the wheeling of a cart behind you. “I wanted to be set up so we could get started right away but,” when you turn you see them shrug. The view outside of the waterfront off in the distance matches some of the paintings done during different times of the day.

“It's okay I can wait, we're booked all day right?”

“yes that's right,” they go through their bag pulling out a large sketchbook, “here take a seat and we can go over some of these together,”

they sink into the couch pushing back the blanket to make room for you to follow. Your thighs touching before they hand over the sketchbook. You're amazed by the craftsmanship, and the detail put into each variety of the tattoo idea you have given them. No other artist has given you so many possibilities, maybe one of two but a whole spread dedicated to small details was never on the table. redlightdesign had taken time working through this with passion. “Wow,” you breathe not knowing where to look first.

“do you like it? It's a big thing, a tattoo of this size, and I wanted to make sure it really had all the elements you wanted in it while also not being too chaotic and messy. You see this one has less shading and seems more open but this one is heavy-handed if you're into that kinda style. I see you have other work done on your arms and if you want to go that way style-wise I think this one would be perfect,” they point at the one you've been focused on knowing that it was exactly what you wanted.

“It's amazing, they all are, I'm so impressed redli-“

“Hyunjin, you can call me Hyunjin,” they chuckle, “I should have introduced myself earlier but I was late and it slipped my mind I'm sorry,”

“no, it's okay thank you hyunjin,” you try the name in your mouth, “I think this is exactly what I want, better than what I could have imagined,”

“great I'm happy to impress let me get this printed in a stencil and we can add anything else after we find the right placement,” you watch as they stand moving to the corner with a desk, you can't see their face but know they've taken their mask off as they turn on the printer. “Do you live around here or was it a commute?”

“oh I live right up the street, I was surprised to see how close it was to my place actually,” you say over the sound of the scanner.

“that's good, sometimes I have people coming from all over it's fun to finally have a local visit,”

“I would have come out to New York if that's where you would have been,” you admit.

“I haven't been out there in a while, they are doing construction on the street the studio is on so I've been located here for a while now,” he states pulling out the stencil sheet. “I did a few different sizes to start with,”

he turns around and you're shocked at how beautiful Hyunjin is. In all the time you've thought about redlightdesign never did it cross your mind to account for prettiness but if you did your scale would be broken. You're still seated when he comes over and kneels in front of you.

“Can I?” he asks looking up at you, your hands in your lap covering your thighs.

“oh yeah sure,” you're flustered lifting your hands away.

“left or right?” he asks, holding two of the stencils over each leg.

“right,” your hands sinking into the couch as Hyunjin wipes his thumb over your bare thigh. He shows you the three different sizes and you decide on one before he asks you to stand in front of the mirror so he can place the stencil on.

“Here,” he mutters, being gentle to get the placement right in the first go. “We can always print more if you don't like it here,” he blows cool air over the purple lines traced on to make sure it's dry enough for you to move. He slides his hand behind the pit of your knee tugging your leg. You reach out to steady yourself with his shoulders, the backs of your hands feeling the tickle of his long hair hanging past his ears. He lifts your leg enough so that your foot is resting on his thigh, his hands slipping over your skin checking it looks good.

You love the way he's found the perfect spot on your thigh so that it flows with your body, “I think you got it first try,”

“Look in the mirror first just to make sure,” he lets you go, pulling himself to stand behind you so that you can see yourself.

“yes it's perfect,” and he nods, grabbing a purple pen.

“finishing touches then,” he gets back down in front of you lifting your foot back to his knee so that he can steady you. The marker is cold on your skin as he draws, adding lines and shading in spots to make the work blend better. When he blows on the wet lines of ink you shiver especially when he draws on your inner thigh, your skin so sensitive you swear you could imagine his fingers tracing shapes instead of the pen. “Perfect,” he states, giving your knee a tap letting you know he's done. “Let me set up and if you need the bathroom before we start I'd go now. I have water and a kettle for coffee over under the desk, and we can stop for lunch around let's say twelve or one-ish?”

You nod, taking your seat on the tattoo bed. He's set it up so that you're slightly leaned back but still sitting up. You watch him pull on black gloves and get all of the inks and needles ready, following a system you've seen done before. He clicks on a stereo the soft song playing in the background just loud enough for us to talk if we wanted to or just to listen. you adjust in your seat when you hear the sound of the tattoo gun whirring, hyunjins free hand stretching your skin in preparation, “The hard part will be around the knee so let's get that area out of the way,”

you nod watching as he starts, the familiar burn of the needle digging in but not too painfully. He was right that it was worse than some of your other tattoos but not unbearable. What distracts you is how concentrated he looks leaning over your leg, hair pushed back behind his ears but one strand hangs across his forehead, the corner of his lip between his teeth.

He starts to ask you small questions about yourself, the conversation leading to learning about him and how he got into tattooing. He talks about his art and the little things he likes. Both of you are so invested in one another that you don't even notice how far you've come in the day, lunch already rolling around before you know it. He's gotten through more than half the outline when he starts the loose wrap to keep it clean while you go out for lunch. The bakery is just downstairs offering lunch deals you can't refuse and when you get back upstairs both of you sit on the couch and continue your conversation. Giggling over nothing much but being comfortable in each other's company more than what you could have asked for.

redlightdesign could have been a total dick but you were blessed enough to get someone so genuinely kind and talented. And when you got back in the chair to finish the day's session you were sad to know that tomorrow would be the last time you saw Hyunjin unless you somehow got another appointment. The idea in it of itself was making you dread leaving.

“Could you tie my hair up?” he asks lifting his wrist up to you, a hair band waiting for you to take off. You lean over taking the tie from him and running your fingers through the dark strands. He hums as you brush the hair from his face gathering it all to tie into a ponytail. “thank you,” he nods letting the end bob up and down, a sweet smile teasing his lips before he goes back to the linework.

When he finally declares you done for the day you sigh, his thumb smoothing over the ends of the tape he's put to hold the wrap he put over your thigh. His finger slips across your inner thigh making you jolt harder than when the needle was to your skin. “sensitive?” he asks and you nod, not wanting to think too much into it. You were definitely sensitive but not from the pain, watching his long fingers work over your skin didn't put the cleanest image in your head.

He starts to break down his workstation, cleaning up and wiping everything to disinfect. While you put on your coat he asks, “Do you want to get dinner?” you turn to make sure he is not on the phone but he is in fact asking you, “I know this great spot a block over it's not that far a walk if you're up for it?”

“Sure,” you nod and he rubs the back of his neck.

“You know if you're not busy or anything I don't usually ask clients out for dinner but we were having a good chat and you know if you don't want to,” he drags on his ears pink, it was cute to watch him flustered.

“I'd love to go to dinner with you hyunjin,” you smile following him out.

You share an umbrella as you make your way to the small cafe-style restaurant, outdoor seating covered with a canopy so you won't get hit by any rain. Sitting across from one another, Hyunjin asks to see your other tattoos. You lay one arm down on the table, hyunjins fingertips ghosting over your skin as he traces the lines of all your other work. “I think I've seen this one before, did you get it from Felix? Or what's his username…”

“youg.ink?” you nod, “I actually got it because I saw you mentioned them before and it introduced me to their work. instantly fell in love with this when he offered it up,”

hyunjins not even paying attention to the tattoos anymore as he lets his fingers glide over your smooth skin. Most times after a client was done for the day in his chair he walked them to the door, waved goodbye, and worked in the studio on the next person's design. Most times he had people who he didn't mind not seeing again but you and your laugh, your gentle conversation, made him want to break his own rules for once. He walks you home after dinner and promises to see you tomorrow at the same time.

When you show up for your second session you're double fisting two iced coffees; the door is already unlocked as you make your way up the stairs. Hyunjin is sitting at the desk with headphones on sketching away before he sees the movement in the corner of his eye. He gives you a big smile, all teeth and is so cute. He tugs his headphones off letting them hang around his neck, “you got me a coffee?”

“Maybe or maybe I have a caffeine addiction,” you joke, handing over his cup. You look over to see what he's working on and he leans back to give you a better view.

“The next client wants their back done, it will be spaced out over the next four months. first sessions tomorrow,”

“I wouldn't even know where to start on something that big,”

“the same way I started yours,” he looks down at your legs, the wrap still in place only today you're wearing a skirt instead of shorts. The only other clothing item you felt would give him space to work today. Hyunjin looks back to his sketchbook, shutting it and standing. “let's get you up on the chair and get started,”

you follow his instructions, sinking back into the chair and letting your skirt bunch between your legs to expose your thigh. Hyunjin starts to set up his station, pulling on his gloves after flipping to the sketch of your design to have to glance at while he works. “might hurt today with all the shading if you need any breaks let me know we can go as slow as you need,” he peels away the tape before cleaning your leg with a towel and watered down soap. “It already looks good,” he nods, pressing around the tattoo.

“I think I can handle it,”

“Okay, we can work the bottom to the top again today, get the area closest to the knee and get the most painful bit first,”

and you think you can handle it and you can for the most part but the dragging of the needle over the still red outline from yesterday is painful today. Your hand bunching in your skirt as you remind yourself to breathe. You let your head roll back in the chair not able to watch anymore, focusing on the music playing, the dull hum of the tattoo gun usually comforting you but now a reminder that you're here for a while.

hyunjin is trying to concentrate, he's great at what he does, but what's testing him is how you're flashing your panties at him. he was going to say something, bring up a conversation about anything but when he looked up, a simple glance he was face to face with the dark grey fabric, the outline of you silencing him. You didn't even notice, your neck exposed as your free hand not holding your skirt gripped the armrest.

Tattooing people made nudity and almost nudity normal. It was why Hyunjin preferred his private studio so that he could make people feel comfortable, it was better than having someone who wanted a hip tattoo strip in a shop where anyone could watch. But with you sitting in front of him he forgot that he shouldn't look so close. Because instead of ignoring the view he was imagining ways that he could make your pain more bearable. Imagining how if he reached over and brushed where he knew your clit would be waiting you wouldn't be moaning in pain.

It's not until lunch that your skirt is let go but it's done the work of keeping Hyunjin hard for the entirety of the progress he's made toward the tattoo. When he sprays the tattoo down with the soapy water beads roll back up your leg because of the way the chairs are angled. The cold water feels great against your hot skin and Hyunjin apologizes for the mess passing you a paper towel to wipe any that got too far. You slightly lift your leg to wipe your inner thighs, the movement flashing Hyunjin again only this time the droplets of water had dampened your panties. The gray fabric was dark where he had been fantasizing they would be.

He doesn't even want to think about standing from his stool knowing that the second he does he will have to adjust himself only drawing attention to the fact he is very hard. He tries to make a list of things in his head as he wraps your thigh. To think about how it's almost over, that you will be gone in the next hour or two but that only makes it worse. You would be gone when he was this needy? He wanted to make an excuse to have you come back for another session. But it was quite obvious he would be dragging out the appointment when he only needed to do a small section when the two of you were done with lunch. He could have waited and finished, pushed your lunch back, and waved goodbye but no.

He swiveled his chair away from you, taking a sip from his almost empty cup of coffee as you slid down the bed to stand. Hyunjin takes a breath and prays you don't notice but it's the first thing you see when he turns, the strained outline not very well hidden. You pretend to look out the window, feeling your cheeks get hot. All you can think about is if it was your noises that did it, all the whimpering wasn't usually how you handled tattoos but this one was the biggest piece you've gotten, and didn't know two sessions would make your usually composed self break so easily. it would explain the silence compared to yesterday. So you toy with the idea, how far would he go if you made yourself available?

You grabbed lunch together, hyunjin putting a pillow over his lap to steady his plate of food but both of you knew that wasn't the real reason. And when you were back in the chair you intentionally let your skirt roll up this time. It doesn't help that he's now working on the part of the tattoo closest to your center, how he wraps his hand around your thigh, pushing your legs further apart to reach a spot on your inner thigh. Gloved fingers brushing over your panties for the smallest second, your hips sinking into the seat to keep yourself from moving. Hyunjin noticed but needed to get through the rest of the tattoo, if he stopped now he wouldn't know when he would start again. Your lip between your teeth he watched as you tried to close your legs again to block your exposed panties, now wet with your slick and nothing else. He could see the spot and almost ripped his gloves off as soon as he finished his work. But now he was teasing you. Cleaning the tattoo down and wiping it down. He doesn't even bother with the normal photos he would take right away instead putting on the second skin to protect the tattoo. As he smooths the thin film over your inner thigh he lets his fingers slip up brushing against your center to see your reaction.

Your head rolls to your shoulder watching him through your lashes as he takes off his gloves and tosses them on the cart. He lifts the armrest on the tattoo chair before reaching behind your knees to pull you to the edge of the seat so your legs are dangling off the side. “how is it someone can make the prettiest sounds and sit so still for me?” he leans down and plants a kiss on your tattooless thigh, “because all I could think about was how I wanted to see your legs shaking for me while you whined like that,”

you tried to draw your knees together but he was in the way, kissing up your inner thigh, nipping at your skin with his teeth. When he reached your skirt he flipped it up with a lazy hand giving you no time before his thumb was over your clit rubbing a harsh circle over the fabric. You felt the shock run up to your stomach, your voice breathy as you whimpered his name. He followed the wet line down the front of your panties before hooking his finger along the seam to pull them back. He wanted one taste, needed one taste but knew he wouldn't stop at just one, not when you looked this edible and ready for him.

He ravages your clit, your hands shooting to his head burying your fingers in his hair as he sucks. He's careful of your tattoo but your other thigh is fair game for him to wrap his arm around and push you open, fingers bruising with how he spreads you. His free hand prodded your entrance, circling in your wetness before slipping in knuckle deep. “Hyunjin,” you whine, your hips rocking against his lips, feeling the build up of your orgasm. He curls his fingers pressing up into you enough to make your legs jerk from the new angle.

You're seeing spot before too long, hips stuttering as he gives a final hard suck, fingers still as you clench around them. You're moaning so loud you're sure someone will hear but you don't even care. Hyunjin doesn't stop the flick of his tongue against your clit making you cry out, “I said I wanted to see them shake,” devilish smile covered in your slick before he latches on to your clit again. Fingers pumping in and out of you before he presses deeper into you. You can feel tears at the corners of your eyes, and when he pulls away slightly to let his teeth brush your clit you're done for, legs trembling as you cum. He is persistent and you have to tug his head away, a slight smile stuck on his wet lips as he watches your body shake from the overstimulation. “once more?”

“I can't- I can't do it,” you shake your head but he drags his fingers out slowly before inching them back in, your hips jumping.

“I know you can, you've been doing so good for me already, one more time won't hurt,” he hums, dipping his nose down to brush over your nub. Jolting at the feeling he turns his head to kiss your inner thigh, slowly building up speed with his fingers, “can't you do just one more?” it's the way he asks so softly, the heavy gaze under heavier eyelids that makes you nod.

You're so sensitive that one lick has you shaking, your orgasm feeling so far and yet so close all at once. His tongue laps through your folds circling your clit. Hyunjin is obsessed with the taste of you, completely under the spell of your pussy and how it responds to his touch. He could go all night eating you out, watching as you fell apart again and again before him. Your cries are getting louder and before you know it your back is arching into him almost coming off the seat, your orgasm so intense you don't expect the clear fluid to squirt out of you until it has.

You're breathing so labored you place a hand over your chest to try and calm yourself. hyunjins pleased grin is the only thing you see before he pulls his fingers out of you and sticks them in his mouth to clean them. Every once in a while your legs jerk from an aftershock, the delight in his eyes worth how tired you feel. Your thighs are sticking to the leather seat under you as Hyunjin pulls your underwear back into place leaning down to leave a ghost of a kiss over your clothed clit. “next time I want you to cry this pretty for my cock okay?”

#hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #seungmin #kpop smut #bang chan #lee felix #lee know #han jisung #i.n skz #changbin #stray kids smut #stray kids #stray kids hyunjin #skz #skz smut #hyunjin stray kids #hyunjin smut #Hyunjin smut #hyunjin skz

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dilatorywriting · 4 months

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Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 3]

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: Teaching a Siren to read is perhaps the best or worst idea that you've ever had. If only you were half as capable of reading between the lines.

[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

‘U-G-L-Y’

“Wow,” you drawled. “What a wonderful use of your new talents.”

The fish you were cooking landed upside down on the hot stone with a crackling sizzle of skin that you could feel as a jumping prickle of heat all along your arm. You poked at your impromptu stovetop with your impromptu stick-spatula and prepared your impromptu leaf-plates. A true culinary connoisseur, you were. When you were rescued, you were going to argue to Riddle that you deserved a promotion to the kitchens. Though, apparently not everyone appreciated your talents.

‘UGLY’ the Siren poked again, jabbing his talon into the sand.

“Then bring me prettier fish,” you returned, pointed. “It’s not that hard.”

His sharp, black claws came up to point at you next alongside his wonderful, two-syllable insult. Then back to you again, with four fingers this time. Both hands going for it. There was a tight, irritated expression on his face that you refused to call a pout because firstly, surely this vicious king of the seas could never pull something so childish. And secondly, because in these past few days you’d developed a terrible habit of just chattering each and every one of your thoughts aloud. And if you called him bratty, or dared imply such pouting was coming from his regal visage, you were just setting yourself up to get drenched by his flailing tail all over again.

“You can’t hurt my feelings,” you said, bland. “Ugly is the nicest thing you’ve ever called me.”

He huffed and smacked his fins against the sand. The trailing, dark tips cracked against your leg and you kicked him right back. It didn’t actually hurt, no more than a pinch to the side, but you’d spent enough time with this asshole now that not fighting back like a toddler pitching a tantrum wasn’t an option anymore.

Just over two weeks, now. Fifteen days and counting.

Those first few days had been spent in a nervous, prey-like panic, of course. Watching him circle the bay with his shredded fins, crying at the top of his lungs until your goosebumps had goosebumps. And then you’d helped untangle him from the mess you’d made, delicately working salt-brined twine away from weeping wounds. Sure, there’d been that whole hoopla of him pinning you in the sand after your act of Great Chivalry and promptly threatening to rip your throat out with his teeth, but you’d moved past that. The offering of home-cooked meals had softened his scaly hide, and then the even greater move of handing him your species’ alphabet like some great, guarded secret of old had sealed the deal. Cheers all around. It’d only taken you nearly being eaten, disemboweled, and drowned, but you’d made peace with your roommate. What a success story.

And now instead of trying to murder you, he just called you U-G-L-Y.

So, you know, baby steps.

The thin, pointed end of his tail whipped up from where you’d kicked him to twine around your ankle and give a sharp tug that had you sprawling face first into the sand with an oomph. Your great tumble sent all those pretty letters of his scattering in the breeze, and you spat out a mouthful of grit.

“Here’s a new one for you,” you chirped, digging your fingers into the muck. F-U-C-K—Y-O-U.

The Siren yowled, which you’d come to recognize far too well as a prickle along your nape and that forever echoing tug, tug, tug somewhere in your head that could never return the call with its corresponding answer. His tail flailed out again to smack at your hands. It was thick, and scaly, and all smooth, powerful muscle. The fact that he hadn’t crushed your poor fingers into a sad, bony paste by now beneath its wrath was a miracle. If you were a more optimistic person, you’d say he was being extra gentle with you on purpose. But even you weren’t delusional enough to think he liked you that much.

“Okay, okay,” you grouched, spitting out another mouthful of pebbles. “Fine. Just not around the food. Unless you want to have to go hunting for dinner all over again.”

The Siren huffed, rolling his eyes like it was a professional sport, and settled himself prettily back against the butt of his tail like he’d never even tried to beat you to death with his fins at all.

You sighed and pulled yourself back out of the sand, scrubbing it from your salt-sticky skin as best as you were able. You returned to poking at your fish. They weren’t too terribly singed, despite your distraction. And the Siren seemed to like the edges extra crispy either way, so it wasn’t any kind of loss. You were in the middle of balancing your impromptu stick-spatula against another impromptu stick-spoon to try and flip the fish without destroying it entirely when you felt a gentle poke, poke, poke against your arm.

You looked back and the Siren stared down at you, lips canted in a sharp smirk that was all pride.

U-G-L-Y—A-N-D—S-T-U-P-I-D, the sand said.

He’d been struggling with applying the whole -pid noise to the proper lettering, because of how similar it was to -ped. And the spelling had been tripping him up (with much obvious frustration) for the last day or so.

“Well done,” you sighed, not even too terribly upset that it had taken you months in Riddle’s impromptu classrooms to learn what he was picking up over the course of a few, harried sessions delivered with broken bits of sharp sticks and an ever changing canvas. “Try this.”

You scribbled another message in the sand. An insult, naturally, because he seemed to like those. You sounded out the letters as you hopped the tip of your finger over them one-by-one, and the Siren stared down at the inscription with the sort of intense focus meant for ancient tomes or sacred texts. You watched his lips move silently as he sounded it out alongside your mini-lesson, and then he was reaching forward to trace over the letters with the curved tip of a claw—knuckles bumping yours for a moment before shooing your hand away.

You returned to your dinner—finishing up the poor, murdered fish as best as you could and doling it out as usual. You reached out to hand pretty boy his leaf-plate, which he took like a lord accepting a meal from a lowly servant. All upturned noses and pointed disinterest. He set it beside him and nibbled on the offering as he continued to study the new task you’d given him—grand, purple fins splayed out at his sides to brush against your hip like a habit. And this was your life now, apparently. Sitting and frying lazy, shallow water fish over a heated stone while your Siren student studied curse words in the sand. If you managed to survive this, no one would ever believe you.

The wrecked ship called to you like, well, did you even have to say it.

(It felt like a low hanging pun at this point. You’d never be able to use the expression again for as long as you lived without thinking of narrowed, purple eyes nearly rolling up into the back of a too pretty head because you were apparently that annoying.)

Every day when you ventured towards the western side of the islet to feed your teeny, round octopus friend, you couldn’t help but sit and stare at the shattered hull. It’s not like it was in any sort of shape to actually get you off your little, sandy prison, but it was… There was something about it that was familiar enough to scratch an itch in your brain, but just alien enough that figuring out what was itching was outright impossible.

Silver songbirds.

‘Not safe,’ the Siren had demanded, with an almost frantic look to him. Not safe.

Every time you tried to venture closer to get a better look, it was like he could feel it. And he’d be pacing the shoreline like a blood-frenzied shark—rattling off muted, angry complaints the whole time that popped against your skin like soda fizz. So, lesson learned. Keep away.

It was a particularly sweltering afternoon today. Not a cloud in the bright, blue sky and nary a breeze to be seen. Sweat was beading unpleasantly along your brow and all down your back, and you hated it. At least on the Rose Queen there had been shade. And the lower decks of the ship submerged in the waves had always felt at least a little chilled. You could practically feel the damp, cool wood against your cheek. The smell of salt and pine oils in your nose. But here, on this stupid not-island with its barren trees and nothings, you just had to suffer in silence. The memories of your ship had you thinking of the washed up Songbird all over again, and you were in the middle of a heated, internal debate over making a swim for it again when something cold rained down over your face in small, scattered droplets.

You blinked back into focus to see Mister Merman at your ankles. You’d been sitting with your heels in the water, but no deeper. Because the shallows were still his territory, and while he hadn’t tried to hold you under in a while now, it was hard to forget something like that so easily. You didn’t really want to chance it if a foul mood struck him, no matter what sort of fragile truce seemed to exist between the pair of you lately.

Last you’d looked he’d been sunning himself on one of the wide, flat rocks—as he was wont to do. Lavender-tipped hair splayed out along his cheeks in a pool of soft gold and fins spread at his hips like the finest, plum silks. How he never seemed to burn with that delicate, ivory skin of his you had no idea. Maybe it was a Magical, Mystical, Merman perk yet undocumented. Or maybe he was just Like That. But he’d been snoozing away on his favorite boulder, and now he had rolled in with the tide to lounge by your toes. His fingers were spread, still dripping with sea water from where he’d flicked you in the face. You frowned at him—partly curious, but also pissilly blinking salt out of your eyes that stung, because come on dude.

He flicked more water your way and said something that you couldn’t manage to catch the shape of. When you didn’t respond with anything other than a pointed scrub of the water dripping down your cheeks, he reached out to wrap a clawed hand around your ankle and give a gentle tug.

“What?” you frowned, confused, and he tugged again.

He canted his head towards you, and then out to the cove behind him. He slipped back with the soft, frothy roll of the waves—just a foot or two—and clearly meant to pull you with him. You slid against the sandbar with a yelp and dug your heels into the muck to keep from getting yanked all the way in.

“No way,” you snipped, kicking a mess of water into his face. He didn’t even blink, just frowned down at you with a twisty sort of petulance. “I thought we were over this. If you drown me you won’t get any more cooked food, y’know. And I, in turn, would very much like to not be drowned. Win, win.”

That frown of his went stiff, and his lips twitched down at the corners. His amethyst eyes darted away and for a moment you swore that those gemstone irises flashed with something almost like guilt. He rolled forward with the next curl of surf and pressed a claw into the damp, dark sand at your hip. He scratched out a careful message, stubbornly refusing to meet your gaze all the while.

Won’t, it said.

“Forgive me for not believing that,” you returned, dry. “You’re oh-for-two now, I think. And, you know, fool me twice, and all that.” Though maybe the first one didn’t really count, seeing how you were both tangled together and sinking to the bottom in a mutual sort of destruction. But whatever. You were keeping it.

The Siren’s brow pinched in the middle and he reached forward to dig his claws in again.

Accident.

Your own brows jumped nearly to your hairline. You were just about to politely point out that dragging someone to the bottom of the ocean until they were bubbling from the nose and flailing wasn’t really an accident,but then you remembered the startled look on his face. The way he hadn’t stopped you from clawing your way back to the surface and how he’d carefully helped tow you back towards the shore after. And… maybe he hadn’t really meant it. It had to be strange, probably. Being able to thrive so easily below the waves and then be faced with someone who would die if they were left facedown in a puddle.

“…Fine,” you huffed, and his eyes jumped back up to yours with all cat-in-the-cream smugness. “But just because I’m about to drop from heatstroke. Not because you asked.”

The Siren rolled his eyes at you and returned to dragging you by your ankles into the shallows.

The bay really was very lovely. It was crystalline clear and the sort of brilliant blue that you’d never even known existed until you’d left the land for a life on the open ocean. The sand below your feet was soft and white, with barely any pebbles or broken bits of shell to dig into your toes. You watched a few crabs scurry out of the way as you were led deeper and deeper, but most of the cove’s occupants were spoiled and slow. Unbothered by this weird, fleshy, bipedal creature stepping past because they’d never known anything else. Once you hit waist-deep, the Siren let go of you to sink more fully into the water. He swam around you in a languid, looping circle—plum fins cresting the surface to flick water against your arms and scales shining like polished glass in the sunlight. It was still far too shallow for him to move around in earnest with how massive that tail of his was, and how wide and trailing his great, beta-like fins were, but he was still elegant. Still fast and flexible as he swam rings around you like an orbit.

“Show off,” you scoffed, but couldn’t quite bite back the grin twitching at your lips.

Because creature from the deep trying to devour your crew or not, Sirens really were so impressive, weren’t they? Straight out of a storybook, and deserving of every song and tale attributed to them.

You reached out before you could help yourself to run your fingers along his tail. The scales were smooth, and sleek, and cool against your palm. The wispy ends of his fins caught along your fingers, but other than a bit of a tangle, you almost managed to run your hand along the whole of it. And what was it? Eight feet? Ten? Bigger than you at least, that was for sure. It wasn’t like anything you’d ever felt. No fish, or whale hide, or shark. Something entirely of its own.

You realized on the next loop when your fingers danced over a patch of still healing scales that you’d felt already that he had most definitely realized your err in personal space, and was letting you poke about on purpose. You glanced up, embarrassed and warm faced, to see the tail end of a smirk quirking out from the water’s surface. Preening bastard.

You turned up your nose and waded deeper. There was a ripple in the water around you, like a chuckle, and he returned to his looping circles. Occasionally his tail would brush up against you to get you to jump, but otherwise he kept his hands to himself and—as promised—did not attempt to wrestle you down to the sandy floor and your subsequent watery grave.

Once you’d made it up to your chest, the Siren was able to start his dance in earnest. He darted away to make a wide arc around the edge of the cove—sunshine catching on his scales like a glare on the water. He shot from one end to the other, so fast it was nearly dizzying to try and keep up with. And then he was back to circling your ankles all over again—tangling your legs in his fins and curling his talons against your calves to try and drag you deeper.

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, paddling after him until you were well and truly above your head. The bay wasn’t very deep, but there were a few areas that dipped down to at least fifteen feet. So soon enough you were bobbing like a top in the gentle surf as he looped around your idly kicking feet—brushing up along your ankles and tugging at the frayed edge of your shirt with his claws when he passed by.

When he next rose above the surface, you’d already taken in a big mouthful of water in preparation, and shot it right into his face. The Siren’s whole expression shriveled up like a hundred-year-old prune and you laughed so hard he had to curl his tail around your waist to keep you from dipping under the waves and choking yourself. You let him drag you around and only grabbed at his fins a little. He would dive below your feet and you’d sink after him. Not nearly as agile or adept, but competent enough to follow his little game of tag without losing completely within the first few seconds. It was—it was nice. Genuinely. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d swam for the fun of it. Way back when you’d first joined up with Riddle’s crew, maybe. It’d been a hot day, just like this one, and you’d been anchored in a safe, shallow inlet off the coast of an archipelago. Deuce and Ace had jumped in first, already brawling, and you’d dove in soon after. It’d been a mess, and Riddle had nearly hung the three of you up by your toes for it. But it’d been fun. Familial. Warm. Something you’d never forget. And while this moment didn’t feel entirely like that one had, there was something similar about it. Sure, you weren’t trying to give the Siren a bloody nose and there were no rock wars, but it was… well, it was nice.

By the end of it, he was swimming lazy, looping shapes around the cove, and you were being dragged alongside him like a raft—kept afloat by the curling press of his tail and relaxing in the afternoon sunshine with the cool ripples of the ocean water to keep you both comfortable in the heat.

“Do you do this a lot?” you asked, as you relaxed in the gentle lull of the surf. “With your pod, I mean.”

The Siren stiffened beneath you, but after a moment he nodded. Slow and rigid. Which—

Oh. Right.

“…sorry,” you mumbled, gaze darting away.

Because he was missing his family just as much as you were missing yours, wasn’t he?

All that frantic pacing at the start of your mutual stranding had just seemed to… fade away as the days passed. He would still circle the entrance of the cove some mornings, singing towards the skies and tilting his head—fins pricked as he searched for an answer. You’d feel it in your nerves, see the gulls overhead dipping in a trance and watch the crabs crawl up onto the sand like they were being dragged out by their little claws. But most of the time now he just… didn’t. He spent his days mumbling over the letters you showed him, or carefully preening over his healing fins and resting in the sun. Catching fish for you to prepare and roast, and taking his meals at your side as you both snipped at each other with sandy curse words. It was pleasant, this routine you’d fallen into together. But all the same, he never really stopped checking the ocean waters. And you could see a spark in his eyes, an itch. The same one that lit yours, no doubt, every time you caught yourself squinting for the outline of ships on the horizon.

The difference between the two of you, of course, was that in a few more days his scales would be healed enough to face the dangers of the open water alone. Life as a rogue mer was notoriously perilous. The lone Sirens were those that poachers were willing to risk battle with for a trophy. They were the ones caught in fishing nets, and found mauled by rival pods. But your Siren was smart. He was big, and strong, and impressive. He’d find a way to survive it, no doubt. One morning you’d wake up and he’d have darted off into the deep to search for his family. To go home. And you…

You would still be trapped here.

Alone.

Forever.

Rotting under the sun with no one to take you swimming in the afternoons. Or bring you clawed up fish to cook for dinner. Or to use your writing lessons just to insult you with scribbled words in the muck.

Which—that was what you’d wanted, wasn’t it? At the start of all of this.

And it was only fair, in the end. He was the better of the two of you, after all. Born and bred to thrive in the depths of the sea that would swallow you whole without a thought. And if either of you was going to survive, to find your home again, it was always going to be him. Maybe you’d be a story, like he would have been for you. The strange human with no ears, just like the rest of the pirates whispered about. Who taught him that fire could make fish extra tasty and that leaves could make perfectly serviceable plates if you tried hard enough.

You sighed, and bubbles of salt water frothed along your mouth.

The Siren raised his head from his own lazy sprawl to arch a brow at you in question, and you did the very mature thing of spitting water in his face all over again.

You ended up being dragged through the cove in a flurry of spitting, Siren rage. Laughing and laughing until he huffed and hauled you back to shore to keep you from swallowing any more seawater like the idiot that you were. And it was fine, really it was. He wasn’t so bad, not really. And if he was able to reunite with his pod once more after all those days of hollow wailing and pacing, pacing, pacing that had made something deep in your soul itch like a freshly scabbed wound that you just couldn’t stop picking, well, that wouldn’t be such a bad ending after all.

The next afternoon while you were out on your daily Octopus Wellness Check, you came across a piece of pale, purple sea glass mixed into the rocky shore. It was smooth to the touch and frosted over by the endless tumble of the tide. You held it up to the light and it sparkled just like the Siren’s scales.

“What do you think?” you asked the octopus as it grabbed shredded bits of fish with its chubby, little tentacles. “Do you want it? Or should I give it to—”

You blinked, startled, and realized all at once that you’d never learned the Siren’s name. Or given him yours. You’d just sort of been calling each other a variety of derogatory pseudonyms and hoping for the best. Which, huh. You hadn’t even realized you’d wanted to know his name. It wasn’t yours to take, of course. Let alone from someone who would no doubt be leaving so soon. But it was a thought.

“You always give the best advice, you know,” you told the teeny creature, and it hid from you like you were a great, looming monster of old. “Whether you meant to or not. Thanks for that.”

So on the way back to your cove, you picked through some tufts of beachgrass to find the longest, driest spikes. You began winding them together as you walked, and settled down in your favorite little corner of the inlet to continue your weaving. The Siren, naturally—being as nosy as he was—was immediately hovering over you like a child watching someone hold a bag of sweets just out of reach. You clutched your little project to your chest like a secret, and it had him puffing up in irritation and smacking his fins against your sides like your refusal to share whatever had caught your attention was a crime beyond comparison. He arched up as tall as he could to try and peer over your shoulder, and, in failing at that, just outright tried to snatch the thing from your hands.

“I won’t give it to you if you keep being a pest,” you warned, and immediately he was slipping back to rest on his stomach in the damp sand with a starbright curiosity in his eyes, chin pillowed atop his interlaced fingers and gaze following the movements of your hands like a cat tracking a mouse in its hole. Clearly the promise of it being a treat for him was mollification enough to keep him from hovering.

Once you’d braided a sturdy enough chain, you carefully twined it around the sea glass in a little, crisscrossing cage of fibers. Just knotted enough to keep the ocean-worn trinket safe and in place without hiding the shine of it. With that, you held up your trophy with a dramatic wave, and the Siren was popping up all over again. His amethyst glare tracked the swinging pendant with startling focus and a surprisingly wide-eyed spark of confusion.

“Here,” you said, reaching out to drop the makeshift necklace into his lap. He caught it in his claws, eyes still far too round with shock. “It made me think of your scales. I thought you might like it.”

He was staring down at the gift in utter silence. And not the normal sort of quiet either—where your broken eardrums simply refused to pick up on all his petulant grousing against your person. This was actual silence. His lips were parted like they were caught on a breath, but he wasn’t saying anything. Not even a complaint about how plain and ugly it was. He curled his claws daintily around the woven chain, as if he was afraid of tearing right through it with an accidental prick, and then held the sparkling bauble aloft like he was utterly entranced by the soft gleam of it.

After a long, long moment of that near eerie silence and a pool of dread filling your belly that screamed you’d clearly fucked up in some way (overstepped some weird, Siren tradition. Accidentally insulted his father. Handed him a bad luck omen on a string. Something), the Siren was twisting around to show you the back of his neck. He held up the woven chain so it draped along his shoulder blades, and he pointedly shook the ends at you.

When you just gaped back in shock, he turned to sneer over his shoulder at you and jabbed a claw at his throat, then the necklace, then you, then his throat again. Which, oh. Oh! That—that you could do.

So you reached out to pluck the ends of the grass-woven thread from his talons and he immediately shifted around again to make himself comfortable. Curling his tail firmly against the sand with his plum-lined fins spread out in all their glory like a spill of purple ink along the shoreline. He set his shoulders square and firm, and looked straight ahead with that same, queer sort of focus to him as before.

You tied the ends of the necklace in a bow against his nape, making sure it was securely fastened in place and not snagging any of the softer, shorter hairs at the back of his neck. Once it’d been fussed with to his liking, he turned back around and stared you down until you could feel goosebumps prickling up all along your spine. You wanted to meekly tell him that it was just sea glass. Just a little trinket you’d found in the sand that you’d thought was pretty enough that he might like to have it. But the words died on your tongue. They felt wrong somehow. And you’d put your foot in your mouth plenty of times throughout your life, but this definitely felt like it would have been the biggest boot of all.

“…You like it?” you tried instead, because that sentiment at least seemed less like something that was ready to clog up your throat.

The Siren nodded, firm, his eyes still drilling into yours with that unnerving level of focus.

You coughed into your fist and awkwardly attempted to shift away to give yourself a bit of room, and—Huh. When had his tail come up to wrap around your leg? That made running away a bit inconvenient. You’d just have to try and wriggle your way out and hope he would take mercy on your far inferior musculature, and—

There was a poke at your hip. Tap, tap, tap. One, two, three. And you glanced back up at him with a pinched frown, confused.

The Siren pointed to a scrawl in the sand. Tap, tap, tap.

Acceptable.

You gawked, and then swallowed a laugh so fast it nearly choked you. Because he was still himself, wasn’t he? No matter what. Sassy, asshole fish. Gods, you were going to miss him.

You wiped at the bubbling, giggling tears prickling at the corner of your eyes and reached out to pat at his tail in good humor.

“I hope you find your happy ending,” you beamed, and meant it.

The Siren just looked at you with one of his familiar, lemon-sour puckers. He pointedly reached up to flick at the necklace around his throat, like that had anything to do with him finding his family again at all. Like it wasn’t just some silly trinket you’d gifted him in hopes that maybe one day he could look back fondly on the little human that he’d found himself stranded with. To not just forget you outright. To make your fleeting presence in his life something tangible, rather than just a mess of already fading scars and memories that would too easily be swept away in the depths of the sea.

“At least it’s acceptable,” you said finally around your giggling, and he huffed at you in a way that almost looked fond. You stood from the sand and brushed the mess of grit and salt off your pant legs. “Come on. Let’s go have dinner and I’ll teach you some nicer words tonight. So you can give me a real compliment next time.”

There was spray of water all along your back from where he’d no doubt dove back into the shallows behind you and walloped you with his fins to the best of his ability. And honestly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be bothered by it at all.

[TAG LIST - CLOSED]

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#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Vil x Reader #vil schoenheit #Mermay #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #vil shoenheit #Siren!Vil #Mermaid!Vil #Fantasy AU #Monster Mayhem Vil Part 3

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charsthearcher · 3 months

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⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Storage Closet #4

freshman fem!reader x senior!emily engstler

warnings: allusions to sex, grinding, dirty talk, swearing, age gap, reader is perceived to be shorter than emily, petnames, highschool setting, use of ma (im sorry but emily is such a hey mamas fight with the wall) i think thats all lmk if i missed any

a/n: if you feel like youve read this before on wattpad or something, you probably have.. I CHANGED MOST OF IT BUT STORY LINES THE SAME. it was originally about.. uh.. taylor swift.. WHAT WHO SAID THAT???? if you find any taylor instead of emily lmk!!!

You sighed as you stepped through the doors to your highschool, dreading the day ahead.

Sure, you liked school. You had good friends, nice teachers and outstanding grades, but today just wasnt your day. You showed up in a hoodie and shorts that mightve been a little short but you couldnt care less. Your hair was pulled into a ponytail with stray hairs poking out.

You heard your name echo through the hall, “Over here!” Your friend Gemma shouted across the hallway. Her and your friends were standing over by your cluster of lockers.

"Hey guys," You began taking books out of your locker for your first class, Math.

"Sucks we dont have any classes together today." Kayla huffed. "Still meet up for lunch though?" She asked eyebrows raised at you.

You would rarely eat lunch with them nowadays. Its not because you didnt want to, you just had other things to do.

"Ill try." You fake smiled. The bell rang and you slammed your locker shut before saying your farewells to your friends, heading off to your class.

A familiar voice called out to you right before you walked into your class. You spun around and were greeted with a face from your english class. You didnt know too many people in your english class. After all you were a freshman taking the senior AP english classes. (tbh idk how american school works so sorry!)

But this one blonde you did know. Emily had taken care of you ever since you were placed in her class. You two often partnered for projects and partner work. Well more like you do the work and Emily annoys the shit out of you.

"You do the english homework?" She asked a smirk on her face.

"Im assuming you 'forgot' again?" You asked grabbing your backpack and searching for the homework.

"Something like that." She laughed as you handed over your homework. You didnt mind helping her, after all she was the nicest to you in class. She would help you. A lot.

"Dont forget to bring it back before 7th period." You warned.

"I wont. Bye baby!" She cooed making fun of your age, walking backwards down the hall catching your reaction.

"Bye Emily." You laughed as she turned around with a skip in her step. You sighed as she turned the corner, gathering your thoughts until finally entering your class.

—————————

It was finally 7th period which meant one more hour to go. You were able to have lunch with your friends which put your mood up a bit.

You were sat at your desk at the side of the room, listening to the teacher blabber on about a project you had to do on a book of choice.

"And you will be needing partners for this." He announced.

You groaned knowing who you would have to partner with. You never got any work done when you worked with her.

You glanced over to Emily as she winked at you. You whipped your head back to the front as to not let her see the flush on your cheeks.

After your teacher was finished, he said you and your partner could discuss what books you could do. Emily stalked her way over to your desk pulling herself up a chair.

"What book are we doing?" She asked.

"What book do you want to do?" You asked back.

"I havent read many books." She shrugged.

"How exactly are you in AP English?"

"I have a way with my words." She winked again. That stupid charm she has.

You sighed and used your hands to push you up from your chair, gesturing Emily to come with you.

"Sir, could me and Emily please head over to the library to check out a copy of our book?" You asked at your teachers desk smiling.

"Sure. dont take too long, yes?"

"Yes sir." you and Emily said in unison.

You lead the way out of the classroom before walking the complete opposite direction of the library.

Emily shook her head laughing quietly as she followed you, sensing your idea.

You stopped at a closet with a title reading: Storage Closet #4. You peered around to see if anybody was around before quickly opening the door and pulling Emily inside.

"What exactly do you plan to do in here?" She said raising an eyebrow.

"Oh shut up." You said pulling her head down to yours taking her lips in a kiss. Her hands found home around your waist as you wrapped you arms around her neck. She pushed you up agaisnt the wall pulling one of your thighs up.

Her tounge pried your lips open, exploring your mouth as though shed have no other chance.

She pulled away for a moment before placing hard kisses on your neck and you groaned.

"Fuck, I dont think we are going to be able to do this project." You panted.

You didnt know how this happend. You never thought of highschool and thought you would be making out with a hot senior in a storage closet.

Near the beginning of the year Emily offered to partner with you for the first project to save you the embarrassment of having to work with the teacher.

She would always flirt with you while studying, eyes gauging your reaction to her jokingly (not) flirty comments. She would wait for your cheeks to turn that maroon color she grew to love so much then tease the hell out of you for it.

Eventually she teased you enough and you built up the courage to put some actions to her words.

Sure, a 15 year old secretly hooking with a 18 year old was definitely wrong. But you and Emily took the risk. She would only ever speak to you around people if it related to school and same for you.

In private you could do whatever you wanted.

You two often went on road trips out of town so you could go on lunch dates without having to act like sisters or friends. In all honesty you enjoyed the secrecy of it all, it made it all so thrilling.

Emily pulled away gasping for air. "Shit." She laughed, eyes wide as she rubbed her thumb over a spot on your neck.

"What?" You asked pulling out your phone from your back pocket and opening camera.

"For fucks sake Emily!" You half heartedly scolded glaring at the reflection of a red and purple mark. "What will my mom think? Her 15 year old daughter coming home from school with a fat hickey?" You pulled your hair back to get a better view seeing it went darker.

You shoot daggers her way before she smirks playfully and kisses the mark. “Thats not gonna make it go away..” You grumbled.

She laughed and pulled you back into her, continuing the kiss. Her hands carresed your ass as you moaned softly into her mouth. "Sh, baby." she hushed into your lips.

As she bit and tugged and carresed, you two lost track of time. She slid a thigh in between your legs and you whimpered as she smirked, again.

You started moving your hips savouring the feeling of your barley covered centre rubbing up agaisnt the rough of her jeans.

"Go ahead pretty girl, use me. make yourself feel good." She whispered into your ear before nibbling at your lobe. God you loved when she talked in that same raspy voice.

The kiss became more and more lazy, teeth clashing and moans and groans echoing in the closet. Emily was no longer focused on the kiss but on the way your head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and mouth slightly agape.

You began rutting your hips more and more rapidly, chasing your high. Emily bit down on her lip watching you get yourself off. Right as you were on the edge she pulled her thigh away. Your eyes flung open and your eyebrows were furrowed.

"What the fuck?" You spat at her.

"Watch the mouth princess. Dont want to get on my bad side hm?" She said towering over you.

You gulped and looked away at her dominance. "I asked you a question ma." She whispered again lifting your chin with a single finger.

Words were no longer an option if you didnt want to humiliate yourself. So, you settled with a dumb shake of your head.

"We’ll finish this at mine later, yeah? Lets get back to class." And with that she slipped out of the closet leaving you breathless, as always. (and back to class with no book and a disapproved remark from your teahcer)

#emily engstler #emily engstler x reader #emily #engstler #wnba #washington mystics #fem reader #wlw post #wbb #fanfic #emily x reader

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gothamhappiness · 1 month

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You are my heaven (Bruce Wayne x f!reader) Part 2

It was supposed to be a little imagine of a dark and lonely Bruce Wayne switching place with another Bruce Wayne from a parallal universe, but I wrote more than I thought. It'll be into 2 parts, except if you ask for more. <3

You can find part 1 of this here.

Warnings: no proof reading, language, mention of blood and killing, angst/comfort

He met you up at the Italian restaurant and loved to place a hand on the small of your back. He loved even more how you instinctively leaned into his touch and side. He really couldn't go back to his world. This place was heaven, and he was going to take such good care of his new people.

He listened to everything you said and actually answered. He never checked on his phone and didn't show any sign of being in the rush. You noticed how relaxed he seemed. Just before the dessert, he even reached for your hand and gently kissed it. He openly flirted with you and did his best to make you laugh. It was his favourite sound, with your moans of pleasure.

"You're in a good mood today," You finally commented. "You even took the time to talk to the kids this morning. And not to order them stuff about patrol, " You whispered

It hit Bruce. Of course, the "kids" were the vigilantes he saw working with Batman. He couldn't imagine how amazing it must be to work with other people. To be the mentor of those people, too. Their leader. Maybe even their father? They were all so young, they clearly needed someone to be there for them. And you cared for them, like a mother.

"I... Last night was a little bit complicated, and I realise how lucky I am, that’s all," Bruce replied, hoping you might know something

"Yes, Dick and Cass told me you got attacked by that mad scientist and that he threw at you some weird potion. Luckily, nothing happened. You were a little bit dizzy when you came back home, and you instantly went to bed. I helped you undress, and you fell asleep on me, " You hummed. "Anyway, I'm happy if things…” You trailed off

“If things?” Bruce tried to get you to finish your sentence

“Could... be better, " You admitted and looked away

Bruce was speechless for a few moments. Were you saying that the Bruce of this world neglected his people? His own people? You? He fucking didn't deserve any of this then. It was making things so easy, no guilt, no mercy.

"What do you mean, love?" He asked with a tilt of the head. You still refused to meet his eyes as you answered:

"Well... You haven't been around a lot lately. I can't even remember the last time we had lunch together. And you... you aren't the nicest with the children... Jason came to see me for comfort after another argument with you. Steph had a nap with me on the couch after you pushed her too much during training..." You explained.

You didn't want to ruin the moment, but you weren't too sure when you would be able to tell him about all of this. For once, he seemed open to the discussion and wasn’t distracted with his work. However, his silence worried you a little bit. Actually, Bruce was angry. It was obvious that the Bruce of this universe didn't know his luck. He was going to be better - oh, so much better - than him. It was a promise. He kissed your hand again

"I'm so sorry. I'll do better. With everyone." He told you, and you finally looked at him, astonished. You had expected some justifications or denials, not this.

"I'm so... relieved. Maybe you could have a little talk with all the kids? And I know that your relationships with the members of the Justice League were getting tense, too. We haven't invited the Kents at home in so long." You babbled.

Bruce could tell how much you cared about the family and that you decided to push your luck. You wanted your children to be happy, and you wished for Bruce to do better with his friends as well. You were so caring. Bruce was falling even deeper in love with you, and he didn’t think that was possible.

"I will. I promise. What about us?" He asked.

Of course, he was going to do his best for all those people he didn't know yet, but what he wanted the most was to be a good husband to you. He had fantasied about your life together so badly, and now that it was happening, it needed to be perfect.

You didn't reply right away, trying to quickly think.

"What about us?" You finally said

"I haven't been the best to you either," Bruce guessed

"You saw the divorce papers I asked from our lawyer, didn't you?" You internally cursed yourself. You should have been better

Bruce silently panicked but didn't show anything. Oh the fucker was really ruining everything. He needed to make you forget about this divorce. You were finally his wife, he wasn't going to lose you or let you go. You were his, like he belonged body and soul to you.

"Love,..." He started, but you cut him off

"I was just thinking about it, but I... I don't want to leave the family. It was just in case things went downhill, " You explained, a little bit concerned of what the man was thinking

"It won't," He reassuringly smiled at you

"What?"

"It won't go downhill. I'll do anything you all need from me. I'm so lucky to have all of you in my life. I can't take this luck for granted. I'll do better, " He promised

You weren't too sure Bruce wasn't lying, but you wanted to believe him so badly.

Bruce found a folder with information on all the people in Bruce's life on the batcomputer, and he was grateful for that. It allowed him to know about his history with everyone and to act on consequences. He did talk to everyone and tried to make things better. He apologised and offered his help. He took some time for everyone. He showed he was eager to make an effort. He showed he wanted everyone to be happy around him. He showed he was there for his people.

He also found the mad scientist.

He interrogated him in Arkham Asylum. The man hadn't thought a new Batman would come. He just thought it would send the Dark Knight into another world, and that was it. Bruce asked if there was a way to get the real Bruce back. The mad scientist refused to answer at first before admitting that yes, there was. After all, portals could go both ways. Bruce went to the scientist's repair and destroyed everything before paying hitmen to kill the man. There was no way he would come back to Hell. No way. He would even kill the former Bruce himself if he had to.

The night he came back from the scientist’s repair, he was his most charming self to you, bringing you a beautiful necklace full of diamonds. As he helped you put it on, he complimented you and kissed your skin. He seduced you all night.

In the bath with you, his hands never left your skin. He gently washed your body and hair. He tenderly massaged cream onto you. He covered you in kisses until you would giggle under his nonstop attention. You truly hoped Bruce would keep acting like that because you were falling back in love with him. Hard. You were happy, and you clearly didn't want to get a divorce anymore.

A few days later, you and the children had lunch all together. Without Bruce.

You all decided that a conversation was a necessity because “what was going on with the man for fuck's sake?”. It was impossible he changed that much in such a short period of time. It was obvious something happened with the mad scientist. But weirdly enough, he was now dead and his work was destroyed...

"It's not Bruce," Tim finally said

"What do you mean?" You frowned

"It's not the Bruce we knew. From what I've been able to find, the scientist was studying portals through different parallel universe" Tim added

"You're saying that... He switched of Bruces from two different worlds?" You asked

"I think it's what happened, yes." Tim nodded, and you all stayed silent for a little while

"What do we do?" Duke asked

"This Bruce is nicer," Jason commented

"And more caring," Stephanie added

"But it is not our father." Damian frowned

"But he is acting like one..." Dick replied

"And like a husband." Cass added "His body language... He is so in love with you, Y/N… Like he would do anything for you."

"I... I know.” You paused “Maybe we all deserve some happiness"

“Are you saying we should pretend we don’t know anything? Barbara asked “It’s true that the Bruce we had was… challenging, but he all saved us. And kinda took care of us. We don’t know what this man will do in the long run” she added, and you were forced to agree with her

“Let me talk to him” You offered, and everyone agreed.

You weren’t too sure when it would be the right moment to speak with your new husband about the situation.

One evening, as you were snuggled up in his embrace, you felt like it was the right time. It was only the two of you, and the day has been quite good for Bruce, so he was relaxed. You kissed his collarbone to bring his attention back to you. He instantly put his book down to look at you.

"Yes, love?" He hummed

“Who are you?” You whispered with a bite of your bottom lip

“What? You know who am I” Bruce pretended to laugh it off, but he tensed a little bit

“You’re different. The kids are little detectives, and they think you are coming from a parallel universe. And… I can believe that” You explained

“Why?”

“Because my husband liked me, but never worshipped me like a divinity of love” You softly smiled

“Well, he should have” Bruce groaned

“So, this is true, right? You came from another universe. And the man I married is there, instead of you?” You asked

Bruce cupped your face and leaned his forehead against yours. He had been the happiest man in the world the past few weeks. He finally had everything he ever wanted and needed. He would sell his soul in exchange for keeping this life. He was terrified you would cast him away.

“He didn’t deserve you. Any of you. I guess he’s there, yes, but I don’t really know. And I don’t care. I want to stay here. Haven’t I been good to you? Don’t you want to keep me? Haven’t I been better than he was?” He pleaded.

You heard the fear and despair in his voice.

“Your world isn’t as nice as here then?” You asked

“My Alfred died when I turned 18, so I never had the time to adopt any of the children. I did my best as Batman and CEO of Wayne Enterprises, but I’m alone and lonely. Maybe I fucked up too, because my life is a just a mess. I don’t know, but this is Heaven and my world is Hell.”

“We’re not married either?” You wondered

“I’m too much of a loser to interest you. No matter how madly in love I am with you. No matter how much I’ve always wanted to worship you. I’m so happy to finally have you as my wife. I’ll always cherish you.” He admitted and promised

You stayed silent, not knowing what to do anymore. This place was clearly a fresh and happy start for the man in front of you. But what about the Bruce Wayne of this world? Wasn’t it a cruel punishment to leave him in such a lonely place? At the same time, you weren’t sure the man you married would even take care of you like you now were. And you would miss that very much. The children deserved a better father, too. Jason actually started to hang out with this new Bruce. And now Jason knew it wasn’t the same man who betrayed him. Their relationship would be even better. There were so many advantages...

“Keep me” The man begged you “I’ll do anything you want” He whispered again

“I… do want you to stay. But I feel awful knowing he is in your world. Alone.” You admitted

“I can make you forget about him” Bruce offered before kissing you, his thoughts on ways to make everyone forget about the “real” Bruce Wayne.

He was going to stay in Heaven, no matter the price, no matter the sacrifice, no matter what. You kissed him back before gently pushing him away.

“What if he comes back?” You asked “Would you hurt him?” You continued

Bruce didn’t answer, so you knew he would kill him without hesitation. He was a love, attention, and touch starved man. He knew what it was to be so broken that nothing could work out.

“Barbara and Damian… They need some convincing to not find a way and save the Bruce we knew. I still feel bad but… if I loved him, I know I’ve never felt for him what I’m feeling for you” You whispered

Bruce’s eyes lit up. Being loved by you because he was Bruce Wayne was a thing, but being loved by you because of who he was was so much better. He didn’t know what to say, so he deeply kissed you over and over again.

“Love you, love you so much. You’ll be happy with me. Everyone will be happy with me.” He whispered in between kisses

“You promise?” You breathlessly asked

“I promise, my love”

Part 3

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

Taglist for this series <3

@bat1212

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x s/o #batfam x reader #batfam x y/n #batman x reader #batman x you #jason todd #duke thomas #damian wayne #cassandra cain #dick grayson #barbara gordon #tim drake #stephanie brown #alfred pennyworth

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romaniacs · 1 month

Text

▌ㅤNATASHA ROMANOFF — YOUR JEALOUS GIRLFRIEND

( read more ) synopsis — the only hard part about being natasha's girlfriend is keeping it so on the down low that men like steve take forever to give up on you. warnings — female reader x natasha romanoff, flirty steve rogers, a little bit suggestive, fluff.

"hey there" steve's cocky voice echoes inside the quinjet as he leans against the metal wall. "i was thinking… we should go out for once. to a club. not sure you'd like that, romanoff, but yeah" the way natasha's eyes lift up to watch him as he waits for an answer from you makes you smile to yourself.

"we're good" the redhead says.

you're not so sure she is, given how she sounds. "i don't know, i've been tired. think i'll go back to my room soon anyway" you say, trying to escape him.

but he's too full of himself to take a hint. "nah, your room isn't going anywhere… i'm sure we can find something fun to do together. your life has been too serious lately, hasn't it?"

natasha nearly gags beside you. his tone… his look. his blind confidence. fun? wait until he finds out how much fun you have with your romanoff after midnight.

steve reaches for your glass of wine and takes a sip; natasha squirms in her seat, clearly uncomfortable, watching as his eyes stay locked on yours while he swallows.

"no, steve, i do have fun" you mumble.

"please, be honest" he persists, placing the glass back next to you. "when was the last time you took a break?" he steps closer, his voice lowering. "when was the last time you went on a date? you're always so busy. and now you're gonna rest again, this early? that's kinda grandma of you."

you can almost feel the heat radiating off natasha's body.

"she just works hard, dumbass. and, thankfully, you're never around when she loosens up, because trust me, she knows how to have fun" natasha cuts him off sharply.

steve's eyes narrow as her words hit him, caught off guard but not as intimidated as he should be. "oh, really?" he says, his tone cooling slightly, though his ego is a little bit bruised. "and how would you know about her loosening up, nat? aren't you ever buried under paperwork?"

"let's just say i know a thing or two about unwinding. just be happy the walls are thick, rogers" she replies with a playful yet menacing smile; her face is smooth and lovely, but there's an undertone of danger that makes your chest flutter in the nicest way possible. "we should go, hm?" she tells you, and you nod quietly.

"yeah, it's getting late" you say. and your night's about to get good, steve finally understands.

his eyes widen as the realization sinks in, glancing between the two of you, struggling to keep his face neutral but failing as it flushes with embarrassment. "shit, you two… you're…" he stutters, unable to find the right words, and natasha waits patiently for them, but he can't bring himself to utter them out. "nevermind. go, have a good time!" he starts walking out, now not only shocked but also slightly fearful for his life.

#your ira talks 🗯#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst #black widow fluff #black widow angst #black widow #marvel #marvel fluff #mcu #avengers

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gurugirl · 3 months

Text

The Handyman | a check-in*

Summary: You and Harry throw a housewarming party and your ex shows up with some advice for whoever built the kitchen counter. Harry makes sure to prove to you how well-built his countertops really are.

A/N: Based on this idea! Previously posted on Patreon. Read the original one shot here.

Word Count: 3,613

Warning: smut, the tiniest touch of jealousy/possessiveness

❊❊❊

You hadn’t intended for your little housewarming party to turn into a whole thing. Harry said he’d help you invite people from town, a way to make more friends and get to know some of the locals a bit better. But then when your dad told your cousin that you were throwing a small party she let it slip to someone from your past. Van, your ex. She apologized, saying she didn’t think he’d be interested until he asked for more details. But you weren’t going to be rude and uninvite anyone because the house was big enough for everyone. And you did say “open invitation” after all.

“Y/n, it’s so nice to see you again,” Van pulled you in for a hug when he arrived. You put on your nicest smile and attempted to act happy to see him. And it wasn’t that you disliked the guy but the awkwardness of dealing with an ex you hadn’t seen in a while was a bit daunting.

“Oh my gosh. You too! I’m surprised to see you here. All the way out in the middle of nowhere!” It truly was a surprise. It was an hour’s drive from the city to get to your house. And even though your cousin told you she told him and he seemed interested, you half expected he wouldn’t show up.

You made small talk with him before excusing yourself to go to the kitchen except he followed you.

“This house really does look nice, Y/n. Did you have help with all this?”

“Thank you. And yes. I had someone help with everything. Harry’s been so amazing. Listened to what I wanted but he already had his own ideas which I loved so much. Kept almost everything original.”

Van ran his palm along the butcher block island and ducked down to check the construction of the cabinets beneath, “Who’s Harry?”

“Harry owns a small company doing all kinds of work for people in town. He helped me restore the whole place and landscape. I mean, he basically did all the work but… yeah. He’s also my boyfriend.”

Van raised a brow at you, “Boyfriend huh?”

“Yep. Boyfriend. He’s actually here somewhere.”

He nodded as he inspected the window over the sink, “Not sure if you remember or not but I became an architect. Wish you’d have called me. I could have really done this place justice. Sort of feels like some of this could have been upgraded.”

“Oh? Like what?”

You caught Harry’s eye when he stood at the entry between the kitchen and the dining room as he spoke to a few people he knew.

“Well this window for example,” Van pointed, “I would have pushed this whole wall out, made a breakfast nook over the patio since there’s so much space at the front. Could have put in built-in bench seating and it would have given you so much more light in the kitchen and increased the value of the property.”

“I mean that sounds really nice but I wanted it to be original. Expanding the walls and windows like that sounds like too much. And I’m not planning on selling it so increasing the value doesn’t appeal to me.”

“I just hope he knew what he was doing. If someone’s not quite qualified you could have shoddy workmanship that shows later. Like all the cabinets and these new countertops,” he knocked on the surface, “might look fine now but give them a year and you’ll see if it’s up to par.”

Suddenly Harry was wrapping his arms around your front and kissing your neck as Van was then suggesting a rebuild of the staircase to expand the width. You placed your hands over Harry’s forearms and grinned at the feel of his lips on your skin. His distraction had almost made you forget that Van was still talking until he slowly got quieter as he looked between you and Harry and realized you were no longer listening.

Harry kept his eyes on Van as he pressed warm kisses to your neck. It was a signal to Van. You were taken and you were happy and Harry wasn’t some pushover. You were his girl and he was letting Van know.

“This the ex you were telling me about,” he whispered into your ear so Van wouldn’t hear it.

You nodded and giggled, turning to look at Harry when Van cleared his throat.

Harry stood up straight and put his hands on your shoulders, “Sorry to interrupt like that. I’m Harry, Y/n’s boyfriend. You are?”

“Oh, I’m an old friend. I’m Van,” he put his hand out to shake and Harry wrapped his big palm around Van’s with a nod.

“Nice to meet you, Van. Now, what were you suggesting I do differently?”

Van’s eyes widened slightly, “Oh… I wasn’t saying you should do anything different… it’s just that there were some ideas…��

You were no longer interested in what Van had to say at all when you felt Harry’s hand slide down to your hip. It felt like a possessive move. You’d never known Harry to be jealous or anything but that whole exchange had you seeing a bit of a different side of him.

“Definitely some good ideas, Van. But we’re happy with keeping things original. Feel free to have a look around at everything if you like. Only room off limits is our bedroom upstairs that’s locked, but otherwise, knock yourself out.”

Neither you nor Van missed Harry saying our bedroom upstairs.

“Okay. Well, thank you. Yeah, I mean I think you’ve done a great job here and…” Now Van was backtracking.

Harry nodded, “The most important thing is that Y/n is happy with how everything turned out and the quality of construction is the best,” he rapped his knuckles on the countertop, his brow raised at Van.

Van kept his distance until he left a couple of hours later, only hugging you quickly and telling you, once again, how nice it was to see you. You weren’t sure why he showed up in the first place. Maybe, being an architect, he was genuinely curious about the new house you bought and had help restoring. Or maybe he was hoping to rekindle something long gone but then was caught off guard by Harry.

“I can see why you love it here,” your cousin nudged your arm as she ogled Harry who was talking to a woman animatedly.

You laughed softly, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your boyfriend, obviously. Damn. Who knew small-town men looked like that? You’re living your Lifetime movie dreams babe. Old mansion, aunt’s inheritance, hot local who helped you fix the place up falls in love with you…”

You laughed through your nose and shook your head, “I’m not saying I’m not agreeing with you but… I would have stayed here with or without Harry. He’s just the cherry on top.”

“Oh, I bet he’s the cherry on top. So…” she looked around the space and then back at you, “He’s living here with you then?”

You nodded, “Yep. When we started dating it was just kind of the natural next step. I think my dad thought it was too fast but I didn’t want to be away from him at night anymore and he didn’t like it either. I suggested that he just stay and… well that’s really it. He’s here for good. Plus he put so much love into this house. It feels like it’s just as much as his as it is mine.”

You could admit, everything looked fantastic. Harry had made your home into something you could see yourself living in until you were old and grey. Something you were proud to show off to everyone. It was a labor of love, for both of you.

. . .

When everyone had gone, you were wiping up the countertop when your sponge was plucked from your hands and Harry pulled you back into his chest, “So Van thinks the construction of this counter isn’t well done?”

You turned in his arms and grinned up at him, “You know the construction is fine. It’s the best. Don’t worry about what he said. I don’t think he could tell from just looking anyway.”

“Did you like him a lot when you two dated?” Harry pushed you gently back toward the counter, your bottom hitting the edge.

“Why? You’re not jealous are you?”

Harry licked his lips and squeezed your hips before sliding his hands up to your waist and lifting you to sit on the smooth surface you’d just wiped down. You laughed and grasped onto his shoulders.

“Of course, I’m not jealous of Mr. Architect. But I do want to demonstrate how sturdy everything is. I’m not the type to cut corners, you know…” he dragged his big hands up your sides and one up your spine until his fingers found the back of your neck, collaring you with his big palm as he bumped his nose into yours.

You giggled and pushed your arms over his shoulders, “Seriously, Harry. I know how sturdy everything is. No need to prove anything to me.”

“Mmm… I know I don’t have to prove anything,” he smoothed his lips against yours gently, and slowly with the poke of the tip of his tongue at your plush lips igniting the furnace in your tummy that always simmered with need for him. But when he got like this… with his hands on your body and his mouth prodding at yours… the simmer turned into a boil.

You felt one of his hands travel down your hips and then to your thigh where he bunched the material of your skirt in his palm until he’d pushed the fabric out of his way and teased his finger up and down along the edge of your panties next to your crotch.

Spreading your legs for him you leaned back slightly and parted from the kiss with a laugh, “We gonna do this right here, Harry?”

He splayed both of his hands over your bare thighs and squeezed. His eyelids were heavy as he roved his pupils from where he was holding your plush thighs then up to your face, “Wanna?’

You couldn’t help but giggle again and bite your lip as you nodded.

“Mmhmm… Thought you’d want to. Given how wet your panties are right here,” he pressed his thumb over the crotch of your knickers, “Bet you need it more than I do, sweetheart.”

He smeared his thumb around the material of your sodden panties, wetting the pad of his digit before finding your clit and pressing into it. A breathy pant fell from your lips.

“What got you like this, Y/n? What happened, sweetheart?”

“Nothing, just you.”

“Me? Are you sure about that?”

“Always you, Harry.”

He grinned and pushed the fabric of your panties aside as he kept his soft green eyes on you, “What about me does this to you, hmm? You just like me so much that you start dripping?”

You felt your face heat up. Harry often liked to ask you questions that got you a little shy or embarrassed when you had to answer. And even though you should be used to it by now you still got a bit antsy. But fuck if you didn’t love it.

“Yeah. I really just like you so much…”

Harry’s grin never faltered as he kept his gaze pinned to yours and pressed his thumb at the entrance of your pussy, taunting it open until he had pushed it all the way in and you gasped. He began slipping it in and pulling it out, “I know you do. And I love how much you need me,” he continued fucking you with his thumb, “How your body reacts to me. Look at you, Y/n…” he dipped his gaze down to where he was thrusting his thumb into you, “Letting me fuck you with my thumb on the countertop I installed. Making a mess of my palm and I bet the quartz under your ass too. Almost shaking you need it so bad.”

You grunted and rolled your hips up against his thumb, pressing him in further and Harry groaned at your little pathetic wiggle.

Releasing one of your thighs he hooked a finger into the bottom hem of your blouse and pushed upward, “Arms up.”

Raising your arms overhead harry pulled the shirt from your torso and then pulled your bra down, exposing your tits one at a time until you were pouring out over the stretchy material. With his thumb still inside of you, he ducked down and wrapped his lips over your nipple, tongue first.

You moaned and closed your eyes when Harry moved to your other breast, pumping his thumb through your walls until it was all gushy sounding. He stood back, pulling his thumb from you and then bringing it up to his mouth, wrapping his lips around it to lick off every drop of you while his other hand worked at his button to get his pants undone.

There you sat at the edge of the counter with your legs spread and your wet pussy on display. Your panties were stretched to the side and out of the way but you could feel the elastic digging into the back of your thigh and your bum.

Harry pulled himself out of his pants, his gorgeous cock already at full mast and ready to split you in half. He cradled the underside of his shaft as he stepped in toward you and held your thigh in place as he smudged his tip into your labia, spreading your arousal through your crease. The dirty look on his face was heated, like he was about to overtake every part of you.

“Hold onto my back, sweetheart. Gonna fuck you on this well-made countertop now,” he smirked at you cheekily.

You would have laughed but you were already feeling his tip at your pulsing muscle and the anticipation of him stretching you open was making your head spin.

He rocked forward, his thick crown penetrating you and opening you up as he stuffed himself in. It took a few pumps of his cock in and out to burry into the hilt. He gasped when he felt your pussy devour him whole.

Your fingers clung to his back as he began to thrust, long and languid, wet and hot.

“Fucking hell… Got me so weak for you, sweetheart. So desperate to feel you around me all the time. Wanted to fuck you on this counter right in front of your ex-architect so he could see who’s fucking you these days, who’s treating you right…”

You moaned with every deep nudge of his cock through your wet channel. But when he ran his thumb over your clit you croaked out loudly, “Fuck! Yes…”

“See? Look how good I am to you… give you the best don’t I?”

You nodded, “The best, Harry…”

He crashed his lips to yours as he worked your cunt with his cock and his thumb and the languid thrusts turned into frantic jerking motions with his tip nudging into your guts, a hint of pain spreading through your insides at the way he bullied his thick length into you. He rocked his hips against you, the sound of smacking flesh and muffled moans between kisses filtered out through the open window onto your porch. Luckily you had no neighbors anywhere near so no one would know the kinds of things that went on in that old house every evening.

Your thighs were trembling with every swipe of his thumb at your clit and every dip of his cock through your insides.

“Gonna come for me already? Yeah? Fuck, baby…” he was swollen and leaking as he shoved into you. The feel of you wrapped tight around him was always heaven. His favorite.

You whined loudly, the build-up of your orgasm was unable to be stopped as you let him ravage your pussy however he liked. Pat-pat-pat… the sound of wet pussy getting fucked was a typical soundtrack in your house just about every night.

Harry ran a big paw over your tits and squeezed as he pounded into you. The counter under you never budging.

When your pussy began to squeeze and flutter and spasm and your mouth dropped open wide you let out a pitiful cry and dug your fingertips into the taut muscle of his back as you gushed on his big cock.

He only increased his pace as he fucked into you and watched your pretty face twist up in ecstasy. He loved watching you come. It only fed his ego to see such a pretty thing with your face all scrunched and lips curled and wet as you quivered in your orgasm.

He hissed to hold himself back as he felt your pussy slobbering arousal all over his dick. He’d have loved to unload his come right then but he wanted to force another orgasm from you before he allowed himself the satisfaction of coming yet.

When you felt him slow his thrusts you could hear him cooing at you, “Good girl. Fuck baby almost made me come you look so pretty like this.”

You lulled your head up to look at him and he smoothed his lips against yours as he stilled his hips, cock lodged deep inside of your tummy.

“Gonna have you bend over now, okay? Put your feet on this stool if you need it,” he dragged the stool next to his foot toward the counter for you. And with wobbly limbs, you adjusted your seating, turning over so your hips were face down against the counter top and Harry quickly placed his big palms on the round of your ass, pulling you apart so he could see your pussy and anus.

He inhaled sharply as he ran a finger through your folds and you jolted from being so sensitive, “Easy, sweetheart… This is gonna feel good once I get going. You ready?”

You nodded into the crook of your arm and let out a muffled yes as he nudged his cock against you again.

His fingers dug into the meaty soft part of your thighs before he split you open, burying in balls deep on first pass.

You grunted and braced yourself as he began to plunge through your insides, wet strokes of his long cock filling you and then pulling back to his tip on repeat.

“Ooh… shit, sweetheart. So fucking pretty…” he pulled at your ass cheeks and railed into you. You knew he was sweating already, he was giving it his all, using his strong muscles to fuck himself into you and panting breaths every time his balls smushed into your pussy.

You began to feel that fuzzy little prickle spread over your core with every stroke of his cock. The ridges of his bare dick always fit into your crevices and little spots like he was made to snug inside of you and get you off just like that. Your g-spot was never left unloved with the shape of Harry’s cock, his tip always dipping right into it with every pass.

He began to grunt with every glide of his hips, his cock being massaged by your warm walls making his balls tighten and his heart pound the closer he got to his end.

The sight of your pussy sucking him in, lips wrapped around his thick shaft and leaving creamy arousal along his length was just as hot as the way you felt encasing him. But of course, there was the scent and the sound as well. It was lewd. All his senses were burning and singing as he fucked into you.

“Ahh!” You moaned and began to push back against his thrusts, desperate for your next orgasm as it was approaching fast.

Arousal dripped down your inner thighs as he rutted into you, his pace growing sloppy and erratic as he could tell you were about to come.

And the moment you gurgled a wet moan and he could feel you clamping down he gasped and gripped onto your hips, moving you over his cock like you were a toy to fuck, he pulled your ass against his hips and then upward along his cock before slamming you against him again, smearing your pussy juice on the countertop as he did so. You cried out and convulsed around him as Harry finally pumped into you, pulling you back against him until he was stuffed into you as deep as he could reach and released every drop of himself into you.

He groaned as he came into your warm, cozy pussy, pumping strings of his come through your slimy arousal-coated cunt.

Harry made getting off easy. You’d never been one to come so fast or so easy but you were convinced his cock was shaped exactly like you needed. You reached back to take his hand as Harry leaned over your back and kissed your neck, “Pussy fucked and stuffed and countertop sturdy as a rock,” he laughed.

You giggled and arched your back to attempt to move yourself, the position was not the most comfortable after all.

Harry helped you down and held onto you so you wouldn’t fall and you both laughed again when you turned to face him, knowing you had mascara down your cheeks.

He cupped your face and grinned at you, “This is the best housewarming party I’ve ever been to.”

You pointed at the counter he’d just fucked you on and chuckled, “And that is the sturdiest kitchen counter anyone will ever see.”

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caesium-55 · 6 months

Text

—seven days [ epilogue ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

warnings: mentions of death and suicide.

author's note: here's the epilogue and the end end of the seven days series. thank you everyone for showing love to this fic! i was honestly so overwhelmed by the sheer amount of all of you. also, i apologize for all the broken hearts i caused after posting chapters 4-7. stay safe yall! i'll rest my fingers for real now. my doctor wasn't very happy with me. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal @landorris @onecojg @leclercdream @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @spookystitchery @0710khj @strollnstroll @justab-eautifulmess @ssrcsm @seasonswinter @kravitzwhore @mycure156 i hope i didn't forget anyone

masterlist.

Julio [Name] was not an ambitious person. He didn't have dreams or concrete plans in life. But in 1985, his first dream was born. He wanted to be an F1 racer after reading about the Portuguese Grand Prix in a local newspaper where he saw a Brazilian racer even younger than him participate in it and winning it. Ayrton Senna was the racer’s name, twenty-five years old. At that time, Julio [Name] was the same age.

He immediately searched for the nearest karting track. He brought his then girlfriend, Sally Kingston, a dental student in USC, to the kart zone for their date. It was safe to say that driving was not exactly his forte. He crashed his rental kart and had to pay the damages. He was afraid that he made himself a loser in front of the Sally Kingston, the richest, prettiest, and nicest girl from L.A., and that she wouldn't wanna go out with a bumpkin like him anymore, but she had only laughed at him—her eyes turning into little crescents, showing too much teeth and gums—and from then and there, he knows he’s going to marry Sally Kingston one day. He might not have become a F1 driver, but he ended up marrying the girl of his dreams.

Him and Sally welcomed a son in 1991. They named him Damiano and he turned out to be a carbon copy of his beloved wife, not that Julio was complaining. When Damiano turned five, Julio brought him in the kart zone and let him try driving the kart. Damiano adored it so Julio signed him up for racing school. Three weekends later, Damiano got sick of driving around in circles so he stopped. Sally gave birth to a daughter in the same year—1996.

Five years later, he brings [Name], his mija, into the kart zone. He expected that you’ll be like Damiano, too, getting sick of the thing after three weekends or so. You didn't. You loved karting and going fast, almost dangerously so. You lasted five weekends so Julio signed you up for the kart zone’s junior racing school and you were their first female member. You won your first race when you were six, only seven months after you officially joined.

“She was born to race,” the team head told Julio. Julio then decided that he’d do whatever it takes so you could become a F1 driver.

Like his initial dream, his dream for you couldn't be brought to reality. When you were nine, you had to stop karting for financial reasons. Damiano was in high school, Rafael had leukemia, and Dominic had just been born. When Julio told you the news, you were sad but you understood why the decision was made so you never complained. You learned how to play billiards instead and your Abuelo was the one who taught you. It's cheaper than karting so Sally and Julio gave you their full support.

Julio [Name] was pleasantly surprised when you told him that you got accepted in USC’s engineering department years later. He half expected that you’d be like Damiano, who took an interest in dentistry, and was attending dental school. He was going to be a dentist like his mother. He was a perfect copy of Sally.

“If I can't be a racer, I’ll become a mechanical engineer,” you declared, head held high. Julio couldn't be anymore proud. You were living his dream.

If you asked Julio [Name] if he had lived a happy life despite not reaching his dreams, he would say yes without hesitation. He married the love of his life, Sally Kingston, now Sally [Last Name]. His first son, Damiano, had topped dental school and followed in his mother’s footsteps. His daughter, [Name], graduated with flying colors, a mechanical engineering degree under her belt and entered the motorsports industry, the first in the family to do so. (You even got him Fernando Alonso’s autograph! That's his second favorite driver!) Not only that, she volunteered at the LAFD during her college years and competed in a billiards tournament in Vegas, Australia, and the UK. You had the potential to be an international-level pool player but you didn't pursue the sport because you wanted to be an engineer. Rafael didn't let leukemia beat him and now, he’s finishing up his last year in CalTech, pursuing mechanical engineering like his older sister. A research team in Sweden had been eyeing him for a while now. Dominic, on the other hand, is steadily building a career for himself in volleyball. He was offered a sports scholarship in Harvard so, despite the fact that he’s going even farther than his siblings with no relatives near him like in L.A., Julio pushed him to pursue what he wanted. His children are his pride and joy. He spent every single day bragging about his children to his colleagues. The others had expressed their envy to him. Did Julio save a country in his last life to have such great children?

Furthermore, he’d been promoted to be the captain of Station 131 in Austin. Julio may not have driven an F1 car but he wouldn't even trade this family over anything in this world, not even the life of luxury and thrill of a Formula One Driver.

(What Julio didn't know was that Damiano had serious depression in dental school that he carried even after graduating, that you weren't accepted as an engineer in F1 and was stuck in a managerial position for the last five years, that Sweden found a better researcher than Rafael so he’s stuck suffering physically and mentally in a degree with his future unclear and cloudy, and Dominic was slowly losing passion in volleyball but it's the only thing putting him through college right now so he grits his teeth and put himself on court. No one told Julio. Julio got enough of his dreams broken already.)

Truthfully, despite working for Red Bull for half a decade, you never liked its taste. You were always the Monster Energy type of girl. It's the one drink that kept you functioning through all the all-nighters you pulled in engineering school. However, you kind of lost the palate for Monster Energy so now, here you are, standing outside a gas station mini mart in the middle of the dusty highway that leads to El Paso. You hold the chilled can of Red Bull against the side of your neck, satisfied with the feeling of something cool pressing against your skin. The temperature in Texas is going absolutely crazy this time of the year. In your other hand, two cigarette sticks balance in between your fingers. You crave the deadly nicotine. Desperately. But you're not stupid enough to smoke at a gas station because of your cravings.

Your phone vibrates and you pull it out of your pocket to see who messaged you. You snicker when you view the barrage of pictures from the Austin Grand Prix that Leo sent. A stolen shot of Logan, meme faces of Alex, the air show, a selfie with THE Fernando Alonso, and a Tiktok video with the other Williams mechanics.

You watched the race from the stands today and truthfully, you prefer watching the race in the garage than on the stands. It's unbelievably boring to be there. People pay thousands of dollars to sit under the excruciating heat of the sun and catch a glimpse of very fast cars for a nanosecond. You wouldn't even catch sight of if you blink. Nevertheless, you're happy that Leo is having the time of his life. You wish you share the same shoes.

leo: so so sad that u have to go

you: id be flattered if u actually mean it

leo: *rolling eyes emoji*

leo: i hope you choke on your beer

you: i hope you choke on the celebratory champagne

you: and i dont drink and drive

leo: good to know ur not stupid

leo: on a serious note make sure to drive to el paso safely

you: aight aight

leo: u know i have something to confess

you: if it's something stupid, don't bother

leo: ur stupid

you: fuck u

leo: shut up

leo: just wanna say i didn't break up with u bc u gave max too much attention

leo: i know that's what i said but i only said that bc i knew that u needed max to achieve ur dreams

leo: and idk i just thought max wouldn't give it to u not when im still dating u

you: that's stupid

you: max isn't like that

leo: hes in love with u

Your heart stutters. You ignore it.

you: liar

leo: i could tell u lil shit

leo: idk he looked like someone who’d hold a grudge

you: he does hold grudges

leo: and i cant allow myself to stand in between you and the one person who can give you your dream you know?

leo: i loved you enough to let you go to him

You choke on your saliva. You don't love Leo romantically anymore and you are sure that the feelings are mutual but his abrupt confession is enough to bring back the pain of loving him and letting him go all over again.

leo: u sure u won’t stay to see him?

leo: he’s the one who wants to see you the most

you: his ig messages makes me think otherwise

You're a fucking coward. A pussy.

leo: you didn't see the man [name]

leo: you don't know how empty he looks now

A shadow of guilt darkens your eyes. You quickly shove your phone into the pocket of your jacket. You open the Red Bull and take a large swig, almost draining the entire can. You exhale loudly after drinking, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You stare at the vast expanse of the dry earth before you, starting to understand the appeal of aimless road trips in the southern roads.

The world seems to be turning in slow motion now.

Ever since your father died, time feels like it was moving too fast. You arrived at the hospital half an hour after Julio was officially pronounced dead. At that time, you felt like the world was ending. Your knees gave out in the middle of the hospital hallway. Your mother’s wail echoed in your ears. Damiano and Dominic were trying to console her, both of whom were crying terribly. You stare at them, face empty despite the hurricane brewing within you. Rafael wrapped his arms around you and you held onto him as he cried uncontrollably.

Your mother possessed a weak heart. She’d grown weaker and weaker day by day after your father passed. Your father’s station held a ceremony for him to pay tribute to their fallen captain. You were the one who carried his helmet all throughout the ceremony because the entire station knew you were his most prized child. When you flipped the helmet, there was a photo taped on it. A photo of the entire family at your graduation ceremony in USC. You maintained that tired and empty stare during the entire procession. In the middle of the ceremony, your mother collapsed.

Your father’s death was the first domino to be tipped. Your mother’s collapse during the funeral was the second. From then on, everything turned to shit. Your mother had always been frail and prone to sickness so it didn’t surprise you when she had grown so weak in a matter of days. She couldn't sleep. She didn't want to eat. She lost her will to do anything else. You took her to the hospital after a week because you were afraid she was beginning to become malnourished. Damiano suggested moving your mother to El Paso, to your Abuelo and Abuela’s farm, so your mother could recuperate there, and you agreed. The entire family moved to El Paso quickly, leaving the house in Vista Del Pueblo empty and celebrated the New Year there.

You opened your phone for the first time since you landed in ATX on the 30th and a barrage of messages had been sent to you. From Daniel, Logan, Leo, Kendall, Julia. You freeze when you see Max’s name. Your finger hovers above it, hesitating. Your mind trailed back to the five years you spent in Red Bull, to all the memories with Max in it, to what happened inside his penthouse in Monaco, the jet, the night you spent in his sheets, the shoes and—

Fuck.

“Kelly,” you mumbled to yourself, typing her username in the search box. You began typing up a message. You're not mentally equipped to write a long message of apology. Your mental dictionary was not ready to use so you decided to half ass the entire message and hope for the best.

you: sorry about the breakup

you: i didn't know about the shoes

you: i didn't take it

you: im so sorry

you: i hope you're not too hurt

In truth, you loved Kelly for Max. You never had problems with her. At first, you were concerned about the great age gap between her and Max as she was even older than Danny but then you figured that you did not have a say because Leo was also younger than you, born in the same year as Max. Then, you saw how she was so caring to Max, so patient in dealing with his misplaced anger, so supportive. You saw how Max transformed into a better version of himself, something you are not even capable of doing, because of Penelope and Kelly. How he became the world's most massive girl dad without trying. You ignored every bitter feeling that sprouted on your chest because you saw Max was happy and his happiness always came first. And now, you’re here, apologizing to Kelly for taking Max away from her.

kelly: i think i’m the one who’s been taking him from you

kelly: take care of him for me

you: thank you for loving him

You can't imagine how hurt Kelly was. Imagine dating and preparing a man so he could be perfect for another girl.

you: but i can’t do what you're asking

you: not anymore

“Not anymore,” you whisper to yourself, as if uttering it to the wind would cement it as the truth.

Not anymore, Max. I’m sorry.

Rafael and Dominic told you that they want to drop out of college to help you out with Mama a few days after New Year’s. You quickly told them no, to finish college and that you could handle taking care of two senior citizens and your sickly mother and help out on the farm since you’re essentially jobless at the moment.

The third domino is Damiano. You were always aware he’d been clinically depressed, taking medications to help him get better. Whatever he went through in dental school, he carried it with him until he was working. You believed he was getting better. He was seeing a therapist for years now and you were checking up on him every day. Then, like Mama, he just…. became worse. Rafael found him submerged in the bathtub in his apartment, red painting his wrists. Had Rafael not been there at the right time, Damiano would have followed Papa Julio.

The fourth domino is Dominic. He ruined his hand in March. The doctor told him it was dangerous for him to continue playing volleyball competitively. It was either he learned how to set with only his non-dominant hand because his dominant hand is partially crippled or he stopped playing all together. He’d choose the second option with no hesitation as he had lost his passion for the sport but if he’s not playing for Harvard anymore, no one would be able to pay his fees until graduation. Not when Julio died, not when Sally was too sick to continue working, not when Damiano was currently unstable, not when you’re the only one who had been supporting the entire family through your entire savings account. Red Bull must have paid you a lot of money because you’ve been keeping the entire family afloat for months now.

The fifth domino is Rafael, who got his entire thesis overhauled so now, his graduation was out of the picture. It sucked. He’d always been expected to follow his older siblings’ footsteps, both of whom are academically excelling individuals and Rafael had been studying and studying and studying. So why was this happening to him? Why was this happening to his family?

The sixth domino was yet to be tipped over.

You refuse to fall.

You blink, suddenly back in reality when you hear a loud caw of a bird flying above your head. You shake your head, tossing the Red Bull in a nearby trash can and returning inside the mini mart. The amount of caffeine in a Red Bull isn’t enough. You need more. You need fucking coffee.

Gas station coffee sucks but you’re never the type who complains. El Paso is still eight hours away and you’re sure you're going to be driving your motorcycle the entire night just to reach the farm the next morning.

You walked towards the Yamaha XSR 155 parked in front of the mini-mart, a styro cup of coffee that’s as black as your soul and as bitter as your life in your hand. Hypnotizing swirls of steam rise from the cup. In each step you take, the key that is attached to your hip jingles.

It's a little past four in the afternoon but the darkness of the sky makes you think it's around six PM. You pocket your cigarettes and stand beside your motorcycle, hand on your hip while the other brings the cup of coffee to your mouth. A car suddenly arrives, coming to a screeching halt in front of you. You flinch in surprise, almost spilling your coffee in your hands. You hiss loudly, brows furrowing, a curse sitting on the tip of your tongue. You hear the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut and when you look up—

“Max.”

He’s still in his Red Bull overalls, drenched in sweat as if he ran to the gas station instead of driving. His hair is windswept, sticking out in multiple directions almost attractively so. He looks simultaneously distraught and relieved when your eyes met. The longing in his eyes. God. You unconsciously take a step back and turn around—a flight response—when he charges in your direction.

A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, stopping you from your tracks and causing your coffee to spill and fall down pathetically on the floor. You avoided the puddle, hands reaching behind you to guide Max away from the steaming liquid. But it’s too late. You saw the hot coffee touch his skin.

“Max!” you exclaim, eyes going wide. Your hand wraps around his forearm, pulling it but his grip on you tightens so you resort to tapping his arm in hopes that he’ll let go and you can inspect his injured hand and make a quick run for the mini mart for first-aid supplies.

“Max, let go,” you say, panicking. “Your hand—”

“Don’t leave,” his voice cracks.

“I won't go, okay? Let go and I’ll—”

“No,” the hug tightens and you suck in a breath. “You’ll leave again. I know you’ll leave again.”

“I’ll fix your hand. You can’t burn your hand—”

“I can endure it. Let me have this please,” he pleads. You pull his hand but Max remains stubborn. Resigned, you sigh. It turns out that you’re still the same, giving whatever Max wanted.

“I’m sorry for getting angry,” he begins. “I’m sorry for stopping you from going to Renault. I’m sorry for promising that I’d talk to Christian. I’m sorry that I didn't. I’m sorry that you had to break up with Leo because of me. I’m sorry that I realized that I fell in love with you while dating Kelly. I’m sorry for the shoes. I’m sorry for getting drunk. I’m sorry for being so selfish. I’m sorry for not considering you. I’m sorry for loving you. I’m so, so sorry, [Name]. For everything.”

His words come rapidly and frankly, you don't want to hear Max like this. Max rarely apologizes. You're not used to hearing him apologize.

“Max—”

“I called, [Name].”

You freeze.

“I called so many times. Not once have you answered. Not once—” a loud sob erupts from his mouth, interrupting him. “You always come when I call.”

You close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

“I sent you a message,” he continues. “To wait for me. I know I’m selfish but can I have five minutes please? Just….five?”

A pause.

“Okay,” you whisper. Max’s body trembles against yours and you stand still for a few minutes,

“Hey,” you say gently, suddenly reminded that you're standing in an open space and Max is still in his Red Bull overalls and he doesn't even have his usual cap on and this compromising situation you're both in was going to be bad for Max’s online reputation once the wrong pair of eyes manage to catch sight of you. You can already imagine what the headlines would be.

MAX VERSTAPPEN AND HIS FORMER MANAGER CAUGHT HUGGING IN A GASOLINE STATION AFTER AUSTIN GP.

MAX VERSTAPPEN AND FORMER RED BULL MANAGER IN A RELATIONSHIP?

FORMER RED BULL MANAGER POTENTIAL REASON FOR BREAKUP BETWEEN KELLY PIQUET AND MAX VERSTAPPEN?

MAX VERSTAPPEN CHEATED ON KELLY PIQUET WITH FORMER MANAGER?

MAX VERSTAPPEN, FULL-TIME WORLD TIME CHAMPION, PART-TIME CHEATING ASSHOLE.

God. You can already imagine the headache splitting the entire PR team’s skulls. The world already hates Max because of how good he was at his sport. You can’t allow people to shit on him more because of you.

“Max,” you try again, tapping his forearm so he can loosen his hold on you and you can turn around. “Max, baby, cooperate with me for a bit, yeah?”

You tug on his wrist and you can't help but sigh in relief when his arms loosen a little. He’s beginning to choke you a little bit. With his arms still around you, you pivot on your heels so you’re face-to-face with his broad chest.

When you look up to Max’s face, your heart shatters into a million pieces. His tears continue to flow and violent sobs wrack his entire body, robbing him of the ability to speak and barely allowing a breath to be drawn. He’s going to hyperventilate. Fucking dammit.

“Max,” how many times have you said his name in the last few minutes? “Hey, breathe with me.”

Your hand cradles his jaw and your eyes focused on his blue ones and fuck, they’re as insanely beautiful as you remembered.

“Breathe.”

You perform exaggerated inhales and exhales so Max can match your breaths, his hands settling on your shoulders. His palms feel heavy against your shoulders and his fingers dig deep into your skin.

“I’m here, Champ. I’m here,” you assure him. “I’m here now.”

You wait until he calms down a little and when he does, your right hand searches for his, intertwining your fingers together to assure him that you’re not going anywhere just yet. Your other hand comes up to hold the area below his neck and you slowly guide him back to his car. It’s a little difficult, Max obviously has no intention to let you go, but you know how to make things work.

Max sits on the driver's seat with you standing outside of the car. He's still clinging onto your hand and you use the other hand to hold the roof of the car for support. Max stopped crying now, staring blankly at you with a sad pout on his face. His tears are now dry, staining his cheeks.

“You okay now, Champ?” you ask, never failing to sound gentle. That's what Max needs now. Gentleness. God forbid you pull a Jos Verstappen.

Max shakes his hand, making you sigh deeply. Your eyes trail to the hands, the pale skin now an angry red.

“Max,” you call his attention. He looks up at you and you have to avoid his gaze because if you look at his face, your heart hurts. “I’ll get something from the mini-mart for your burn, aight?”

He shakes his head and his grip on your hand impossibly tightens. If he keeps this up, he’s going to break your bones.

“No.”

If you were the same person that you were in 2023, you would have let Max do what he wanted. What Max wanted, what Max shall get—that’s the philosophy you lived by. But things are different now. Leo told you that you’re allowing Max to take too much from you and Max needs to learn to actually listen to you.

You’ve been taught to treat even the most minor of burns as if it’s a major burn. That's what you are planning to do right now.

“Max,” you say, a little firmer now. “Gonna grab somethin’ in the mart real quick, you stay here, aight?”

“No—”

“Not askin’, Champ,” you interrupt him. “I'm not leavin’ yet, not goin’ anywhere until I make sure you’re okay. So stay here and wait.”

You swiftly remove the key attached to your belt and force it into his palm, “Here are my keys. I’m not goin’ to drive off and leave you here, aight? Do you trust me?”

You have a feeling that this anxiety of his might have stemmed from that one incident in his childhood where Jos left him at a gas station. Fucking son of a bitch that man was.

Hesitantly, Max says, “I do.”

“Good,” you ruffle his hair, dampening your palm.

You can see he does not like what you're doing now but he does not have any choice so he sits in the car, looking as pitiful as ever. You jog up to the mini-mart, immediately going to the beverage section to grab a bottle of water and passing by the hygiene shelf to snatch a handkerchief. You go to the counter and the middle aged guy manning the register obviously does not look impressed that you’re in his shop for the third time in the same hour, which is stupid because he should be glad that he has a customer. You put everything on the counter, pulling out some bills from your back pocket.

“You happen to have neosporin?” you ask.

“Do we look like a drug store?” he retorts. You roll your eyes, toss the bills to the cashier, and grab your items without even waiting for the guy to wrap them all up in a paper bag. You jog back to Max’s car.

“Excuse me,” you lean inside the car, opening the compartment to search for a burn cream you left inside there last year. Your eyes land on his keys, stiffening when you notice that Max kept every single gift you gave him. The bead keychain from 2020, the bottle opener keychain from 2021, the clay figure keychain from 2022, and the bracelet from 2023 sway slightly, staring back at you. You shake your head and resume doing your original mission. You find the burn cream and you immediately search for the expiration date. January 2025; it’s still good to use.

You straighten, take hold of Max’s wrist gently, and roll up his long sleeves up to his elbows. You open the water bottle and tug Max’s hand towards you so he won't get water on his car as you pour water on his burn. Once the bottle is nearly empty, you apply the cream on the reddened area of his skin. Then, you use the handkerchief, which you dampen using the leftover water, to dress it.

Max is silent the entire ordeal, watching you work your way meticulously and carefully around his hand. The same meticulousness one can expect from a former firefighter paramedic volunteer.

You step back to inspect your work, but Max’s hand stretches out towards you, grabbing the hem of your jacket.

“Sorry,” he says and yet you see his knuckles slowly turning white, which makes you unsure if he truly is apologetic or not. “Just…yeah, sorry. Can you stay for a while please?”

“Have to leave soon,” you say. “El Paso’s still hours away. I have to be there by morning.”

He nods, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, “Okay.”

“Thirty minutes, Max,” you decide. “Thirty minutes.”

You pull out your phone from your pocket to check the time and see the multiple notification bars. You type the password and direct to the message app to see the flurry of messages Max sent earlier. You have not noticed them.

max: i heard you came

max: where are you

max: please

max: can you give me ten minutes

max: just

max: please

max: wait for me

max: i’m not angry anymore

max: im begging you

max: or five minutes [name] im okay with just five

max: or even less

max: i just need to see you

“Who told you I was here?” you question, brows knitting together. There are currently two names in your head. They both start with the letter L and they both work at Williams.

“Leo called me and told me you were here.”

“Of course he did,” you roll your eyes. Logan will never dare betray you like this. You made Leo promise not to tell Max where you were in El Paso and the bitch told him where you were the moment you stepped out of El Paso. He didn't break his promise technically, but it's still a very bitch move for him to pull. You're going to have a lengthy conversation with him later.

“So you’ve been in El Paso?” he asks.

You nod.

“My grandparents’ place.”

He nods.

“Sorry about Julio, by the way.”

You sigh. God, you want to cry.

It's truly unfair how God decided to take away Julio [Last Name]. Death should happen to assholes and shitty people. To people who abuse their children every day. To people who waste years of their lifespan on nicotine and alcohol. To people who kill people. Death shouldn't happen to heroes, who risk every single day of their lives to save other people. Death shouldn't happen to Julio [Last Name], a firefighter who died saving a kid in a burning building. At least, not this early. Not until you fulfilled his dream for him.

(His last words: I don't regret doing what I did. I have kids, too. I want someone to save them the same way I did that kid if they ever get stuck in a situation like this.)

“Did Leo tell you that, too?” you hope that he didn't notice that your voice slightly wobbled.

“No,” Max shakes his head. “We—Logan and I came to Vista Del Pueblo in December. Your neighbor told us that…”

He doesn't need to finish his sentence for you to know what he’s trying to say.

You nod, “So that's why there was an article that day…”

You remember Damiano showing you the news article in his phone—AN UNLIKELY FRIENDSHIP: MAX VERSTAPPEN OF RED BULL RACING AND LOGAN SARGEANT OF WILLIAMS RACING SPOTTED DRIVING AROUND AUSTIN. You shrugged it off at that time.

“How are you?”

You turn to Max, raising a brow at his question.

“How am I?” you echo, sounding a little bewildered.

You see, Max has never asked this question. You're used to “Are you okay?” but not this. Not this question. You can easily lie to an are-you-okay. You can say yes even if you’re not, and you won't give yourself away because you only uttered one word. But with how-are-you, it’s different. It's not a question that is not answerable by yes or no. You actually have to explain how you feel. That's why Papa Julio only asked, “How are you, mija?” rather than “Are you okay, mija?” Papa Julio wants to know how your day went even if you're okay or not.

Yeah. You're definitely going to cry at this rate.

“How have you been after Julio?”

“You really wanna know?”

“I wanted to be there for you at that time,” Max confesses. “When I learned that Julio was gone, I wanted to go to you. But Leo stopped me. He said I was not what you needed at that time and I agree. I was too angry at you for leaving me. I’m glad he didn't tell me where you are, despite how painful it was. I was selfish and immature that I cared about my grief and forgot to consider yours. I reflected on my actions a lot. I am not sure how different I am now from that version of me but I think I changed a bit. So yes, [Name], I want to know, because I want to know how you felt and help you in any way I can.”

You stand there, stunned at what Max has said. And perhaps it was his sincerity or the way his determined blue eyes stare into your soul that caused the sixth domino to tip. You break into tears, a raw cry escaping your mouth. You are so fucking tired of carrying everything on your shoulders.

Max is quick to engulf you in a hug and you don't hesitate to pull him into you, pressing your face against his shoulders as you let everything out. You claw his back as if you're trying to mold himself into you. Your nose turns red, snot drips out of your nose. You sob too loud and too heavily that you can hardly draw a breath. You don't cry pretty and this is the first time you allowed yourself to cry with another person bearing witness to your fragility.

When you calmed down, you found yourself sitting beside Max, shoulder to shoulder, in the backseat of his car, playing with the drawstrings of your jacket.

“Sorry.”

“Don't be.”

“Sorry, I was just so tired,” you tip your head upwards. You can feel Max’s eyes on you. “Things have been hard since Papa died.”

“Do you want to talk? I’ll listen.”

You chuckle humorlessly.

Jesus, what did Leo feed this guy?

It feels like the roles are reversed now.

“Everybody's been takin’ it pretty hard so I'm trynna to be strong for them, you know? But I’m not that strong,” you begin. “I’m just as lost as everyone else and it's hard pretendin’ like I’m not. I’m not really sure what will happen with my life now so I wander around and do car repairs for a few folks in El Paso.”

“What happened to your dream? The job?”

“Well, it's gone,” you say, making Max’s eyes widen. “Not my time yet, I suppose. Or rather, I’m never supposed to have time. I guess I’m just not meant to be an engineer.”

“No,” Max turns to you, clasping your hands in desperation. “No, no, no. You always wanted to become an engineer. You can't just—I’ll think of something. I’ll ask Christian. I’ll ask the other teams. Renault isn't in Formula One right now but I can—”

“Max,” you smile sadly. “Let it go.”

“But—”

“Do you know what my Papa’s dream was?” you interrupt. “It’s to be a Formula One racer.”

You smile, remembering all the times you’ve seen your father watch the races on the television since you were younger. He’d wake up even in the ass crack of dawn just to watch them live. He’d be so tired after a 24-hour shift at the fire station but he’d refuse to even catch a wink of sleep until the Grand Prix broadcast is done. He always received a beating from your Mama because of it.

“He saw Senna in the newspaper and decided that he wanted to be like him, too. Sadly, Papa never vibed with a steering wheel so there was no future in that industry. He's always so disappointed in himself, sayin’ he can do the most unhinge shit at work but can't even drive a car. When Damiano and I turned five, he brought us karting. I could tell he was disappointed that Damiano didn't share his love for racing and I hated seein’ him sad so I learned to love karting. He signed me up and I did my best to win. I think I was good. Good enough to make him proud of me. Papa looked so happy when I won my first trophy. He cleaned it every week.”

You smile fondly at the memory.

“Then, shit happened and I have to stop. Papa looked even more disappointed than me that I had to stop. It hurts. Disappointment from your parents, I mean, even if I know that it's somethin’ beyond my control. I figured that if I can't be a racer, I’ll work in a pit stop. That's close enough. When I told him that I got accepted into USC and how I wanted to be an engineer, it was the proudest I have ever seen him since I won my trophy. I was livin’ his dream. I applied for Red Bull and Renault because those are Papa’s favorite teams and the rest is history.”

You pause.

“He’s never got to see me become an engineer,” you choke out, wiping the stray tear that fell from your eye with the back of your hand. “It was his dream. He always had his dreams broken and I was gonna reach his dreams for him but he’s gone before I can do so. Now, I’m so lost because I realized that I was shapin’ myself to become an extension of Papa and now that he's gone, I am an extension of no one. I was reaching for dreams that I don't own. I’m so tired and I’m so lost, Max.”

Max stares at you sadly.

“I should have talked to Christian sooner. Fuck, I hate myself for not talking to Christian. Fuck, why was I so selfish?” he presses the ball of his palms against his eyes in frustration. You chuckle, shaking your head.

“That’s okay,” you say. “I’ll find my way.”

You look at the scenery outside of the window. Night has fallen. You should have left for El Paso by now.

“I need to go,” you say, heart heavy.

“So soon?”

Max is panicking again.

“Jesus, Champ, calm down,” you pat his shoulders.

“Will I see you again?” Desperation laces his question.

“Dunno really,” you shrug.

“Can you wait for me?”

Your brows furrow.

“I’ll retire by 2028. No, that's still long. 2027. Ah no—2026? Can you wait for me? I—” Max’s hand trembles. “I love you. I love you, [Name]. I—I love you even before Kelly. I can’t. I can't lose you.”

The world stops.

“I am stupid, I am selfish, and I think I’m asking too much. If you can just wait for me, I’ll—I can even retire next year if you think it's too long—”

“Hold up right there, Champ,” you stop him. “You're not retirin’ early.”

“If you want me to, I will.”

You sigh in exasperation.

“Max,” your voice is low. “That’s your career. I’m not gonna—Jesus, Max don’t retire, okay? Not even for me. Retire only when you want to.”

This man is just…

You don't know if you want to choke him or kiss him.

“I want you to have me, [Name]. I… I want to be with you, to love you, and if retiring is the only way I can do that then I will,” he says. “I love you.”

You purse your lips.

“I love you, too, Max,” you confess and now, your chest feels lighter now that you've said it out loud. “But not now, I can't love you like this. I’m too… I can't pursue a relationship with you right now. Not when…”

“It's not our time,” Max nods. “I understand.”

He really did change.

“I want to find my way through life first," you tell him.

Max smiles and he pulls you again in a hug. He has tears in his eyes again and he sniffles, chuckling at himself for crying again. He pulls away from the hug slowly and hands you your keys.

“See you around?"

“See you around.”

You exit the car and you notice that your heart feels lighter now compared to the time you left Monaco even though you are doing the same exact thing—leaving Max to go home.

At the end of 2023, you grace the paddock with your presence—your signature YSL heels is back on the tracks. You wear pants now, instead of the corporate pencil skirts, matched with a Prema Racing polo shirt. The label at the back indicates: AERODYNAMIC ENGINEER. By the end of 2024, you are promoted to the strategy team. By 2025, you become a race engineer of an up-and-coming racing superstar and you kept the job position until now.

The world didn't end just because your Dad died. It took you a while to realize that your Papa didn't own your dreams. It was always yours to begin with. He just played a part in inspiring them.

Max Verstappen became the 2024, 2025, 2026, 2027, and 2028 WDC, marking history as an eight-time consecutive champion. He retired after the 2028 season and disappeared from the face of the Earth. He had stopped going home to his penthouse in Monaco, had put his private jet on sale, and had cut ties to his father, Jos, who was very disappointed that his son had retired too early in the sport. Max retired willingly—he had achieved more awards than most of his seniors and it's time to give room to the younger ones. Rumors say that he had established a racing program somewhere in Belgium. Charles Leclerc, Max's friend, refuses to update the media regarding Max's whereabouts and only says: "He's happy. Don't worry."

Years later, a thirteen-almost-fourteen year-old girl named Emiliana Julia Verstappen, racing under the American flag, become the youngest driver in history to join the ranks of the F1 academy and later, she becomes the youngest driver to ever drive a Formula One car, racing for Scuderia Ferrari as second driver, at only seventeen and a hundred and fifty days old, overthrowing Max Emilian Verstappen, retired eight-time F1 WDC, whom the world has not seen since his retirement, from the list.

#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #f1 imagines #fanfic #manager!reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 x reader

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mechaknight-98 · 26 days

Text

Brave (NSFW) FT Jihyo

Part I

Author’s note: …I’m so whipped for this woman, but hey it’s not so bad

In the vast expanse of the galaxy, corruption and exploitation ran rampant, fueled by the four major intergalactic oligopolies. As a result, space piracy surged across every sector, becoming both a refuge and a rebellion against these oppressive powers.

Among the numerous pirate crews, some stood out for their strength and notoriety. The Marvelous Pirates were considered the premier crew to join, while the legendary Whitebeard and Gold Roger pirates were revered as royalty for their long and storied histories. Yet, there was one name that struck fear into the hearts of even the most powerful oligarchs: "Diabolos the Dreaded."

Little was known about Diabolos, except that he had brought three formidable privateers of the oligarchs to their knees. Then, one day, he vanished without a trace, leaving behind a legacy shrouded in mystery.

On a distant, uncharted planet, Jihyo woke up to the sound of her alarm, groaning as the morning sun streamed through her window. Another morning, another day in her idyllic paradise. She reached over to wake her sleeping boyfriend, only to find his side of the bed empty. He was already up and out, leaving her to start the day on her own.

As she searched for him, she felt around and noticed a note on the nightstand by his side of the bed.

"Work needed me there earlier so I can't ride in with you today, but I already made lunch and breakfast for you, Yo-Yo (picture a yo-yo drawing instead of the word yo-yo made with Jihyo’s favorite colors). -Dio" the note read.

Jihyo smiled at her boyfriend's thoughtfulness and kindness. She thought about how lucky she was to have found him two years ago while he was taking pictures. As she got up, showered, and prepared for the day, she remembered that today marked their second anniversary and that she needed to find a gift for him. Unable to hide his enthusiasm and love for her, he had already taken her to a lovely dinner at one of the nicest restaurants in Seoul and given her a beautiful cobalt and silver dress that she adored. But she couldn't quite think of what to get him.

Despite being a sweet, big, lovable guy, Dio remained somewhat of a mystery to her. He loved the sea and night sky and enjoyed oceanic/astrophotography and graphic design, which he did for work at the nearby college's ocean and astronomy-related studies. Other than that, he was very reserved and guarded, and she knew little about his family or friends. she didn't have to worry about it too much as she had all day to think about it. As she moved through their homey apartment, she noticed all of the little memories that they had made over the years; the tickets and movie poster from their first date framed, the snow globe from their trip to NYC, the photo from her tour. all these memories made her smile, as she moved throughout their little abode. She smiled as she walked out ready to start the day.

While Jihyo was getting ready Diabolos was already neck-deep in his shift. The University had him taking pictures of a rare whale that had been sighted off the coast for them. After finishing up with the crew they smiled.

“Okay, that should be enough photos for now.” The leader and head of the oceanic studies department says. Dio nods as both get out of the water. The air is cold but refreshing.

“Hey, Dio. How did your date with your girlfriend go last night? She asked

Dio smiled, “Oh fantastic. She was so happy with how things turned out and you were right she loved the dress,”

The head of Oceanics nodded “Good. Oh hey, before I forget there was the lady she was looking for you. Her name was something with a V or B like Vol or Boljune or something.”

Diabolos tried to hide his anger.

“Oh really? Good to know.” He said through gritted teeth the calming waves of the ocean doing little to brighten his now dour mood. The head of Oceanics noticed this and responded,

“Is everything alright?”

Diabolos nodded and said, “Yeah just an ex.”

The head of Oceanics needed no explanation further. They sailed back to shore and docked the boat before uploading the pictures. While in the office the professor dismissed him saying, “Well that was all I needed help with. You’re free to go,” Diabolos nodding began to leave before wishing her well and going to see Jihyo.

On his way, Diabolos reminisced about better days with Voljune before everything went wrong.

The dimly lit cabin of the spacecraft was filled with the gentle hum of the engines as Diabolos sat across from Voljune. They were in a secluded corner of the vessel, far from the busy control center. Voljune, with her striking features and curious eyes, studied him intently. She noticed he was watching a spinning globe of Earth his home planet in his hand.

“You’ve always had a fondness for Earth,” Voljune remarked, her voice a mix of curiosity and nostalgia. “What do you miss most about it?”

Diabolos leaned back, a wistful smile crossing his lips. “A lot of things, really. But the music stands out. All of the music out here sounds in space it’s so samey and ostentatious. But then There’s something just something about earth music that always brings me back.”

Voljune’s interest was piqued. “Music? What kind?”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, well-worn device. After a few taps, he turned the screen toward her, displaying a vibrant image of Jihyo from Twice, her radiant smile captivating even in a still photo. “This is Jihyo. She’s part of a group called Twice. Their music is… it’s special. It lifts your spirit, fills you with energy.”

Voljune leaned in, her eyes studying the image with genuine admiration. “She’s beautiful. You’ve got excellent taste, as always.”

Diabolos chuckled a hint of pride in his voice. “Thanks. It’s not just her looks, though. It’s her passion for music, the joy she brings. It reminds me of the best things about Earth.”

Voljune returned the device, a thoughtful expression on her face. “She must be quite extraordinary for you to speak of her like that.”

“She is,” Diabolos replied, a softness in his tone. “Being around her feels like being connected to Earth’s best parts. The joy, the culture, the life.”

Voljune looks at the picture more intently memorizing Jihyo’s features and characteristics “You know seeing her up close makes me realize you have…what’s the phrase you taught me… oh right a type, because you definitely have one.” Voljune teases.

Diabolos raises his eyebrows as Voljune drapes her arms around his shoulders and stares into his soft brown eyes, “You like strong women. Women who can fight for themselves, but ones who are soft and gentle. You also like fit with a big bust and wide hips, and a rather plump…” Diabolos cut Voljune off before she could finish. Voljune smiled at her favorite human and how he always flustered so easily.

“Regardless I miss home and hope I’ll be able to get back soon,”

Voljune nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Perhaps Earth isn’t as mundane as I imagined. You’ve certainly given me something to think about.”

For a moment, silence filled the cabin, punctuated only by the steady hum of the ship.

“You should come with me to a concert someday,” he suggested, breaking the quiet. “I think you’d enjoy it.”

Voljune laughed softly, a rare warmth in her voice. “I might just take you up on that offer. Who knows? Maybe I’ll become a fan.”

Back to the present day, Jihyo smiled when she heard that Dio was here to see her. She sent him up. When she saw him she ran into his arms and said

“You know I missed you this morning.” Diabolos smiled at Jihyo before bringing her in for a kiss.

“I know and I’m sorry, it’s just that Senwan discovered a new whale species and she wanted me to take pictures of the first in-nature sighting.” Jihyo pouted but it quickly turned into a smile as she said,

“Okay, but tonight and tomorrow you're mine.”

“But don’t we have the double date with Dahyun and Joon?” Diabolos reminded Jihyo who nodded and cursed herself slightly.

“Right well then after Dinner you’re mine,” Jihyo said. She smiled as Diabolos looked at her with eyes full of affection and concern.

“My my I must say Diabolos you have outdone yourself.” Voljune rings out. In a flash Diabolos swings and takes out his imagined saber. He turns to see Voljune saunter closer her blue skin contrasting the pale beige light. She smiles at Diabolos. As she approaches the nearby plants wilt slightly in her presence. The air seems to grow colder around her.

“Good to see you haven’t lost your edge darling,” Voljune says.

“Dio, who’s this?” Jihyo asks and Diabolos moves to a protective stance that has him in between Jihyo and Voljune and says, “My ex!”

Voljune pouts, “Oh come on Darling. Don’t be like that after all you don’t even know why I’m here. It’s the least you could do after you disappeared.”

Jihyo tenses as she watches Diabolos cover her from this blue lady. She also wondered where he got the sword from, but she still trusted him.

“What do you want?” Jihyo asked which surprised both Voljune and Diabolos

“Oh my, she is a strong one. I guess I was right after all Darling you do have a type,” Voljune said with a smile.

“You heard her what do you want and be quick about it,” Diabolos said

“Well, I just came to warn you that my sibling is coming to earth to take over and find you.”

Jihyo watched Diabolos’ sense of self, his essence, darken with an emotion she’d only seen bits and pieces of whenever he woke up from a nightmare. She couldn’t place it and she didn’t like seeing him in that place. So she stepped in front of him

“Listen here, lady you are not about to come out of nowhere and talk to my man like that, and this sibling of yours better be careful because I am not letting either of you have access to him.” Voljune smiled. She knew her next host would be in case of emergency. She stared at Jihyo before sighing.

“Okay well then I’ll go, but darling you better watch out because my sibling has their eyes set on having you this time and not your mentor.” Jihyo watched nervously as Voljune left. She then turned to Diabolos furious and asked

“What was that all about.”

The darkness she saw earlier abated and Diabolos sighed,

“Do you want the longer version or the short version?”

“Short for now,” Jihyo said.

“Voljune is part of a "parasitic race that takes over people and runs a trafficking ring. She is the twin to another who took my body for a joyride They rule a major portion of the universe, along with 3 other big "oligarchy families."

Jihyo noticed Dio's eye twitch meaning he was hiding something. Jihyo scowled “Dio You’re lying. There’s more.”

Dio sighed unsure how to respond.

Jihyo relented in her stare when she saw his discomfort. She knew if she pushed her way through that she might have her Diabolos. So she retracted. While this was going on halfway across the galaxy Narset watched a live feed of Earth with dispassionate interest.

Narset sits languidly on a floating chair, surrounded by swirling holographic projections. Her expression is one of utter disinterest as she gazes at the rotating image of Earth.

She idly flicks her fingers, adjusting the holographic displays. "This little blue planet," she muses, her voice dripping with condescension. "They call it Earth. Hardly seems worth the effort, doesn't it? I mean the dominant species are good slaves but so are several other planets."

An attendant reports on Diabolos' activities on Earth. Narset waves her hand dismissively, scoffing, "That Diabolos… just a slightly sapient monkey with delusions of grandeur, but he was a useful monkey. Got me this body after all. I wonder how he survived the severing, but it doesn't matter too much. He couldn't stop me then. He won't now."

Narset leans forward, inspecting a holographic map of Earth with strategic points marked "I won't even need to dirty my hands," she says, a smirk playing on her lips. "Send one of those weak Bio-claimers. They'll handle this primitive world well enough."

She reclines back, turning her gaze away from the Earth display. "Why waste resources on a rock that poses no threat?" she mutters, her voice trailing off as she shifts her focus to more pressing matters in her empire like the regent ball she was to attend soon or any other number of things.

An attendant nods, acknowledging her command. "Yes, my lady. As you wish." The hologram of Earth fades away, replaced by other pressing concerns of the galaxy, leaving Narset disinterested and already moving on to the next item on her agenda. As she walks out she muses to herself.

"I wonder what Voljune sees in you little monkey."

Later that night back on earth the bio-claimer lands, and begins to destroy Seoul. The reason why Seoul was chosen as the target was because Narset figured that the best way to show Diabolos his inferiority was to send the Bio-claimer to his home.

The monstrous bipedal amalgamation rampages through the city. This leads to him interrupting Jihyo, and Diabolos' intimate times when they get the Evactuation notification.

Diabolos and Jihyo were making out and enjoying a late dinner since their plans got disrupted due to the monster. Diabolos gets up and goes to deal with it.

His walk to face the bio-claimer is like a block and a half away. Diabolos summoned his Imagine blade and then Slashed through the Bio-claimer in one strike before going back to Jihyo.

Jihyo paced the length of their small apartment, her eyes darting to the clock every few seconds. The distant sounds of chaos in the city had subsided, but Diabolos hadn’t yet returned. Her mind raced with worry, envisioning every possible scenario. She knew he’d return, but couldn’t shake the fear.

Suddenly, a soft knock echoed from the door, jolting her from her anxious thoughts. She approached cautiously, hesitating before pulling it open. There stood Voljune, her blue skin marred with bruises and cuts, her usual confident demeanor replaced by fatigue.

“Voljune?” Jihyo’s voice wavered with surprise and suspicion. “What are you doing here?”

Voljune staggered slightly, leaning against the doorframe. “I came to warn you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is just the beginning for Diabolos. It will only get harder from here.”

Jihyo’s heart sank, her concern for Diabolos magnified by Voljune’s words. “What do you mean?”

Voljune took a shaky breath. “Narset won’t stop. She’ll keep sending worse until he’s overwhelmed. If you want to help him, you need strength.”

“What are you saying?” Jihyo asked, a mix of fear and determination in her eyes.

“You need to merge with me,” Voljune replied, her gaze steady despite her injuries. “I can give you the power to stand by him.”

Jihyo’s mind spun with the implications. She barely knew Voljune and was wary of her motives, but the desperation to protect Diabolos overpowered her hesitation.

“I… I’ll do it,” Jihyo agreed, her voice firm despite the panic rising within her.

Voljune nodded, a hint of relief in her eyes. “This will hurt, but it’s the only way.”

As Jihyo steeled herself, Voljune stepped closer. In a sudden, fluid motion, Voljune’s form shimmered and dissolved into a blue mist, enveloping Jihyo. The sensation was both cold and electrifying, as if icy tendrils were weaving through her very being.

Jihyo gasped, clutching the doorframe as Voljune’s essence merged with hers. Her vision blurred, and she felt a surge of unfamiliar energy coursing through her veins.

Within her mind, Jihyo heard Voljune’s voice. “You love him too, don’t you?”

“I do,” Jihyo admitted, surprised by how natural the response felt. “I just want to protect him.”

Voljune’s presence pulsed with understanding. “We’re not so different, you and I. We both care for him deeply, even if our methods have been… complicated.”

“You’ve seen him at his worst, haven’t you?” Jihyo asked, feeling the weight of shared memories.

“Yes,” Voljune replied softly. “But I’ve also seen his strength, his kindness. That’s what drew me to him.”

“And you think merging will help?” Jihyo asked, a mix of skepticism and hope in her thoughts.

“Together, we can be stronger. For him.” Voljune’s voice was steady, and Jihyo could feel the sincerity behind her words.

As the merging process continued, Jihyo felt a sense of solidarity with Voljune. Their shared love and determination to protect Diabolos formed a bond that transcended their initial distrust.

When the sensation subsided, Jihyo blinked, feeling a new awareness and strength within her. She steadied herself, her heart still racing from the unexpected transformation.

Just then, the door creaked open further, and Diabolos appeared, his silhouette framed against the dim hallway light. His eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Jihyo, standing with an intensity he hadn’t seen before.

“Jihyo?” he asked, concern etched on his face. “What happened?”

Jihyo met his gaze, her voice steady as she replied, “I’m ready to help you, Dio. Whatever it takes.”

Diabolos’ mood soured as he saw familiar spots in Jihyo’s eyes. He stiffened, and Voljune knew she’d been caught, but she couldn’t really process that now as the merging process was still very new and Jihyo was her first human. As their memories and minds merged, Voljune got to see domestic Diabolos—how considerate and caring he was—while Jihyo saw Dreadful Diabolos, the warring pirate whose legacy tore through several planets and galaxies.

At first, the memories of Diabolos clashed in her mind, causing Jihyo to yell at Diabolos. “Don’t come near me, you lying monster!” she yelled, and Diabolos had to cool his temper, because the one thing he didn’t want to have happened occurred. Jihyo merged with Voljune, and he was having difficulty processing it, but he remained calm.

“Listen to me, Yo-yo,” Diabolos said, scratching his head, a gesture Jihyo recognized as him trying to find the right words. “He always does that when he’s about to say something important,” Jihyo thought.

But Jihyo and Voljune were still working on the kinks of this little endeavor and were still at odds.

“How dare you lie to us. You are a monster/hero. Why are you so different with her?” Jihyo’s voice was overlaid by Voljune’s. Diabolos’ eyes narrowed, and Voljune noticed the micro twitches in his jaw, the barely restrained anger simmering beneath the surface. “He’s holding back, trying not to lose control,” Voljune observed.

Emotions fought within him, but in a calm, stern voice, he said, “That’s enough.” It was a tone unfamiliar to both Jihyo and Voljune, but to them both, it radiated strength and authority. It served as an anchor point as Jihyo was able to calm down enough for the memories and the extra consciousness in her body to settle, and as they did, more memories of Diabolos flooded through. These memories didn’t show Diabolos as a conquering warlord or a caring worker but the human he was when he was playing a role.

They showed his heart, caring, competitiveness, drive, and determination, and in these moments, both Voljune and Jihyo saw Diabolos in his totality. This let them calm down enough to let the merge finish. As it did, Diabolos’s rage (and other confusing emotions) began to rise.

“Voljune, why would you do this?” Diabolos questioned, scratching his head again, a sign that he was trying to think through his emotions.

Jihyo and Voljune looked at Diabolos with genuine surprise. The hurt in his voice and his expression were things he couldn’t really mask with anger nor his other emotions swimming inside. They saw them all, and Jihyo responded.

“I wanted to be by your side with this, and I was worried that I’d lose you if I couldn’t fight with you.”

Diabolos sighed, his shoulders slumping, a sign that Voljune recognized as him feeling overwhelmed. “I never wanted to have to fight or have you fight with me,” he said adamantly.

Jihyo scoffed and said, “Why not?” Jihyo and Voljune asked in sync. As more memories merged with each other, they felt their mutual love of Diabolos heighten their emotions.

“Because…” Diabolos stammered, his hand moving to his head again, a gesture Jihyo knew meant he was wrestling with his words.

Jihyo’s and Voljune’s tempers began to rise as all the memories of Diabolos giving her the “princess” treatment. “Because you think I’m dainty, that I can’t—”

Before she could finish that statement, the response she got was startling. “Because I’m evil, and no one should be stuck with me. Because I believe that everyone exists to hate me or make me hate myself, and for that crime they should be eradicated, and the only peace from those violent intrusions in my brain is from when I’m fighting or spending time with you. But now my heart’s all fucked up because I don’t want you to get hurt or strung up in my bullshit,” Diabolos yelled, his body tense, a raw display of vulnerability that both Jihyo and Voljune could feel.

Jihyo felt her heart race a little. Diabolos rarely cursed around her, especially with such force that she felt excitement and desire run through her body, which overwhelmed Voljune. She had never felt so desired, so needed, and that, in combination with the hormones dousing her, melted her mind to where all she could think about was throwing herself at Diabolos. But she pushed down both of their need for Diabolos right now.

As the rawness of Diabolos’ confession hung in the air, Jihyo felt a complex swirl of emotions coursing through her, intensified by Voljune’s presence. Her heart pounded, both from Diabolos’ words and the newfound energy within her.

“That's not what I expected,”* Voljune admitted quietly within Jihyo’s mind. “I thought I knew him, but this vulnerability and anger it’s… It’s something else.”

“I know,” Jihyo replied, her mental voice softening. “It’s why I love him. There’s so much more to him than the warrior he shows the world.”

Diabolos stood before them, his posture tense and defensive, as if bracing for rejection. But as Jihyo looked at him, she felt the internal conflict settle into a determined resolve. She took a step forward, bridging the gap between them, and reached out to touch his arm.

“Dio,” she said gently, her voice steady, infused with both her own emotions and Voljune’s. “We’re not afraid of your past. We’re here because we believe in you, in who you are now. We’re not leaving you.”

Diabolos’ eyes flickered with uncertainty, but Jihyo could see the hope buried beneath his defenses. He scratched his head again, a gesture of hesitation and thought, and she couldn’t help but smile at the familiarity of it. Despite all of these new things she was learning about him he was still the same easily flustered man she’d fallen for.

“We’re stronger together,” Jihyo continued her grip firm on his arm. “You don’t have to face this alone.”

Voljune added her voice to Jihyo’s, the two of them harmonizing in their shared determination. *“Let us stand with you, Diabolos. We can face whatever comes next together.”

Diabolos exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He looked at Jihyo, then at the reflection of Voljune’s presence in her eyes, and nodded, a silent agreement passing between them. He noticed Voljune’s color shifting from cool blues to fiery reds it surprised him as red was Jihyo’s favorite color.

“Okay,” he said, his voice still rough but more composed. “Together.”

Jihyo felt a warmth spread through her, the connection between them deepening with this shared understanding. She leaned into him, feeling his strength and vulnerability, and knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them side by side.

As they stood there, united in purpose, Jihyo and Voljune began to learn how to navigate their shared existence. They could sense each other’s thoughts, their hopes and fears intertwined, and they realized that together, they were a formidable force.

Voljune also realized that Jihyo would be her last host. This was the closest she had ever felt to a host and it frightened and excited her.

Diabolos wrapped his arms around Jihyo, pulling her close. The embrace felt different, with Voljune’s presence subtly altering the dynamic, but it was comforting nonetheless.

“We’ll figure this out,” Jihyo murmured into Diabolos’ hair, and he knew she was right.

“We will,” he thought, ready to face whatever the future held.

The next few days were definitely awkward between them. Voljune and Jihyo loved to tease and flirt shamelessly with Diabolos and this only increased as they would constantly egg each other on.

The afternoon sun streamed through the apartment windows, casting warm light on Jihyo and Diabolos as they lounged in the living room. Voljune's presence was subtle but noticeable to Diabolos, her energy blending seamlessly with Jihyo’s.

Jihyo stretched out on the couch, giving Diabolos a mischievous glance. “You know, Dio, I was just thinking about how much you love those rare steaks. Voljune and I were wondering if maybe you’d like to grill some tonight?” She tilted her head, letting the light catch her eyes, which now occasionally flickered with Voljune's fiery hues.

Diabolos shifted in his chair, trying to maintain his composure. “Uh, yeah, I could go for that. You know I can never say no to a good steak.”

Voljune chimed in, her voice echoing softly in Jihyo’s mind, “See how he tries to stay cool? Let’s push him a bit more.”

Jihyo leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “And maybe afterward, we could watch that old space opera you secretly love. Voljune mentioned she’s curious about why you like it so much.”

Diabolos cleared his throat, his cheeks tinged with a hint of red. “Well, it’s got great action and… uh, the soundtrack is pretty epic.”

Voljune added playfully, “He’s getting flustered. Let’s see what else we can do.”

Jihyo stood up and walked over to him, casually brushing her fingers through his hair. “And I couldn’t help but notice how you always scratch your head when you’re trying to figure out how to impress me. It’s adorable.”

Diabolos laughed nervously, reaching up to scratch his head unconsciously, realizing too late that he’d fallen right into their trap. “You’re both relentless, you know that?”

“That’s the point,” Voljune teased, her presence giving Jihyo an extra edge in their playful banter. “He likes the chase, even if he won’t admit it.”

Jihyo grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind the chair. “We just love seeing you flustered. It’s nice to know we still have that effect on you, even after everything.”

She moved around to sit on his lap, her arms encircling his shoulders. Voljune’s energy added a subtle warmth, a comforting presence that enveloped him.

Diabolos shook his head, trying to maintain his usual cool demeanor but failing spectacularly. “You two are impossible.”

Jihyo pressed a light kiss to his cheek, her lips lingering longer than usual, sending a shiver down his spine. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way, right?”

Diabolos finally relaxed, a genuine smile breaking through his flustered facade. “No, I guess not. It’s… kind of nice having you both here.”

Jihyo rested her head against his, the closeness bringing a soothing calm over them all. Voljune’s presence added a gentle pressure, like a hug from within, reinforcing their bond.

Jihyo ran her fingers through Diabolos’ hair, her touch both teasing and tender. “You’re always so tense. Let us help you unwind.”

Diabolos sighed, leaning into her touch. “You’re too good to me.”

Jihyo chuckled, Voljune’s laughter echoing in her mind. “You deserve it, even if you don’t believe it yet.”

With the afternoon light casting a golden hue over them, Jihyo and Voljune shared a silent moment of triumph. Their connection was stronger than ever, and Diabolos’ flustered delight was proof of their successful teamwork. As they sat together, surrounded by warmth and affection, Diabolos knew he wouldn’t want it any other way.

That night Jihyo learned that living with Voljune inside of her was going to be an… adjustment. Despite their high compatibility, Voljune had never been in a human before so everything was new to her. The major thing was the sensitivity difference. At this point, Jihyo had been off of birth control for a while and was accepting of the fact that at some point Diabolos was going to impregnate her eventually which kept her normal most days and throughout most of her cycle. Voljune however had never experienced human female ovulation and it hit her (and by extension Jihyo) like a truck.

When Jihyo woke up in the middle of the night because of Voljune feeling her horniess for the first time it was unpleasant. To make matters worse Voljune had turned her body’s sensitivity and hormone up to 20. Her reasoning is that it would help her become stronger quicker as they become more symbiotic with each other.

“Fuck Jihyo moaned waking up from a disastrous wet dream that had her squirting all over the bed. When she stopped the sheets were ruined and her mind was mush. Voljune wasn’t much help either as both she and Jihyo were adrift in a storming sea of lust and needed Diabolos to ferry them to safe harbor. They reached out to his side of the bed only to find it empty. Jihyo worried as to where he was went to look around for him, as he was never up this late on an off day. Her fears were partially abated when she saw him standing alone on their shared balcony overlooking the city. She smiled but began to feel the heat rising within her. She needed him inside her in some way shape or form in the next fifteen minutes or she was going to do something drastic. Voljune was no help as she was so overwhelmed by the sensitivity of everything Jihyo felt like the fact that her shirt fabric rubbing against Jihyo’s nipples got her so wet in turn making Voljune even hornier for Diabolos making Jihyo even hornier and more sensitive. By the time Jihyo had located and began approaching Diabolos her panties and shorts were ruined. Jihyo approached Diabolos and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Everything okay Dio?”

“Yeah, Yo-yo just go a lot on my mind.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Jihyo asked.

She felt Dio ease and turn to her. He was taken aback by how flushed her face was and how hard her nipples were.

“Um, Yo-yo are you okay?” Dio asked concerned. Jihyo nodded then said.

“I do need you but it can wait.”

Diabolos made the executive decision to help Jihyo out before she exploded.

“No, I can wait it looks like you’re about to die from horny.” Diabolos joked. Jihyo smiled. Diabolos hadn’t really smiled so genuinely at her since Voljune arrived. Speaking of Voljune had never felt what she was feeling now, but the way Diabolos looked at her and cared for her (Jihyo) made her lose it. So lost in lust all she could say was “fuck me” repeatedly. Jihyo heard this and rolled her eyes before bringing Diabolos back into their love next. She smiled as she got on her knees.

“Can I please suck your cock?” Jihyo asked/begged. Diabolos was a bit concerned as Jihyo must have been hit really hard by her needs because this wasn’t a common occurrence, but he knew if he stopped or intervened here it would be a long day so he let her have her way with a gentle nod. Jihyo smiled as she yanked his shorts down along with his underwear. She marveled at his cock. The thick veiny appendage stood proud for her as it always did. She smiled before kissing it. Diabolos groaned. Jihyo smiled.

“Looks like you need this as much as I do.” She cooed before taking him into her mouth. She started slow. She ran her tongue all over his shaft as she bobbed around his rod. Jihyo’s mind began to blank as she slowly became sloppier and picked up speed. She kept bobbing as a long line of drool began to drip from her pretty lips to her chest. She knew what she was doing to Diabolos. She knew he was almost ready to fucking ruin her just one more piece was needed. She stopped sucking his cock eliciting a groan from him as she took her shirt off and started massaging her spit into her tits this lewd display served its purpose as Diabolos picked her up and laid her flat on the counter

Voljune and Jihyo breathed in deep. As they watched Diabolos’ his eyes were hungry as was his cock. As he lifted them he stuffed Jihyo’s ruined panties into her mouth. Her arousal scent hit her like a brick through a glass wall, as her snug walls let in their favorite occupant. Voljune and Jihyo moan in unison as he bottoms out in them. He thrusts slowly but Jihyo nor Voljune want it slow and easy they want him to fuck them.

“More” Jihyo moans as she feels Diabolos thrusting. Her insides begged him to be rougher. Her moans reach Diabolos' ears’ as he speeds up inside her. Jihyo moans euphoric as Diabolos picks her little body up to get better leverage as he ravages her. Jihyo and Voljune moan as he takes them.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Jihyo and Voljune moan in Jihyo’s mind together. Diabolos watches as Jihyo’s tits bounce hypnotically while he fucks Jihyo her walls are so snug that he can feel his orgasm build quicker than normal but he can’t stop. He keeps thrusting inside her Jihyo notices he’s close and takes out the panties unable to control herself she says to Diabolos, “In me.” Diabolos is brought out of his lustful haze for a moment only for Jihyo to repeat her words.

“I’m not safe babe.” She says

“Voljune has made me so wet and horny for you. Don’t you think I need no I deserve a creampie. I mean we’ve been together two years, don’t you think it’s time we start a family. So do it! Cum in me. Make me a mommy make me yours,” Diabolos loses control as he cums inside Jihyo hearing that. Her womb fills with his seed and she looks at him and smiles but she still sees his rampant lust which causes Voljune to make her even wetter for him. Jihyo moans as he continues thrusting inside of her. He sees now mixing with her viscous slick and pooling under them in a turgid and lewd sludge. Their bodies need more stimulation so Diablos continues thrusting inside of her. Jihyo moans as the sensation drives her closer to another orgasm.

“Cum please cum.” Jihyo moans as she reaches another peak. Voljune is numb inside from all the pleasure and intimacy of being with Diabolos and feeling him rearrange her guts was a euphoria she didn't know she needed. The pleasure tears through both of them as they are subjected to Voljune’s first orgasm in this body Jihyo and Voljune moan as they squelch and squirt all over Diabolos’ cock. All of this cumming on Diabolos causes him to fill Jihyo again as she moans and takes another load inside her. Diabolos overwhelmed falls back on the chair and stares at her beautiful tanned body now covered in a sexy layer of sweat. He grows hard again but is too tired to take action for now.

The rest of the day follows suit. Diabolos would recover Jihyo or Voljune would take their turn breeding him then he'd be worn out, they take a break until 2 am the next day. Where Jihyo wakes up so she can set her alarm to go to Dance practice later that night. In that quiet moment, she notices Diabolos’ scars and wonders how he got them.

The next day

Jihyo and Voljune arrive at the Twice practice studio is brightly lit, with mirrors lining the walls and a polished wooden floor ready for rehearsal. The energy is high as the group prepares for their latest routine.

Jihyo enters the studio, her gym bag slung over her shoulder. She’s wearing comfortable workout clothes, and her hair is pulled back into a neat ponytail. The other members of Twice are already stretching and chatting, filling the room with a warm and lively atmosphere.

"I see your companions are already here," Voljune observes, her voice echoing in Jihyo’s mind. "They seem quite enthusiastic."

"They always are," Jihyo replies with a smile. "We’re all really excited about this new routine."

“Jihyo!” Nayeon calls out with a smile, waving her over. “We were just talking about how you always bring the best snacks. Did you bring any today?”

Jihyo laughs and sets her bag down. “Of course! I’ve got some healthy energy bars and a few treats for later.”

"Your foresight is commendable," Voljune comments. "It seems they depend on you for sustenance as well as leadership."

"Snacks are the secret to a happy practice," Jihyo jokes internally, watching her friends dive into the bag.

As they finish their snacks, Jihyo leads the group in their warm-up routine. She moves with confidence, guiding her friends through stretches and exercises. The studio echoes with the sound of their synchronized movements and shared laughter.

"You lead with such grace," Voljune notes. "It's no wonder they follow you so willingly."

"We’re a team," Jihyo responds. "Everyone brings something special."

“Remember to focus on your breathing,” Jihyo reminds them, her voice encouraging. “We’ve got a long practice ahead, and we need all the energy we can get.”

With the warm-up complete, the music starts, and the group begins rehearsing their choreography. Jihyo is at the front, her movements precise and fluid. She radiates determination and joy, inspiring the others to give their best.

"Such artistry," Voljune remarks. "I see why you’re so passionate about this."

"Dancing is freeing," Jihyo thinks, her heart full. "It’s like nothing else matters."

“Great job, everyone!” she calls out after a particularly challenging section. “Let’s run it again from the top and see if we can make it even smoother.”

The members nod, determined to perfect the routine. Jihyo watches them with pride, offering tips and corrections where needed.

After a couple of hours, they take a break, collapsing onto the floor with sighs of relief and laughter. The room is filled with chatter as they sip water and catch their breath.

Sana nudges Jihyo and asks, “So, what’s new with you and Diabolos? Are you two planning anything fun?”

Jihyo smiles, her cheeks turning a light pink. “We’re having a rooftop dinner soon. It’s supposed to be a surprise, but I’m really excited.”

"I sense great affection when you speak of him," Voljune teases gently. "Your bond is strong."

"He’s… special," Jihyo admits, her heart fluttering at the thought.

The group erupts into playful teasing and giggles, their camaraderie evident.

As the practice winds down, Jihyo gathers the group for a final run-through. The room buzzes with focused energy, and their performance is seamless, a testament to their hard work and unity.

“Fantastic work today, everyone,” Jihyo says, clapping her hands. “We’re ready for the show, and I know we’ll be amazing.”

"You inspire them," Voljune says, a hint of admiration in her tone. "This is a rare and beautiful thing."

"We’re all in this together," Jihyo replies, feeling grateful for her team and the connection she shares with Voljune.

With that, they pack up their things, exchanging hugs and words of encouragement. Jihyo feels a sense of accomplishment and excitement for what’s to come, both with her group and her upcoming date with Diabolos.

Jihyo is walking home from the studio, the sun beginning to set, and painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. The streets are quieter now, the hustle and bustle of the day giving way to the calm of the evening.

As she walks, Jihyo feels the comforting presence of Voljune within her. The dance practice has left her energized but reflective, and she decides it's a good time to address some important matters with her new companion.

"Voljune, are you there?" Jihyo thinks, opening the mental channel between them.

"Always," Voljune replies, her voice gentle and attentive. "How are you feeling after practice?"

"Good, really good," Jihyo answers, smiling to herself. "But I've been thinking about how we’re going to make this merger work. I think it’s important to establish some boundaries and parameters, so we both feel comfortable."

Voljune’s presence shifts slightly, an indication of her attentiveness. "I agree. It’s a unique situation for both of us and understanding each other is key."

"First," Jihyo begins, "I’d like to have some privacy when it comes to my thoughts and feelings about certain things. There are moments that are just… personal, you know?"

"Of course," Voljune responds, understanding. "I’ll do my best to respect your privacy. I don’t wish to intrude more than necessary."

"Thank you," Jihyo replies, feeling a sense of relief. "And if there are times when you want to be more involved or communicate more directly, just let me know. I want to make sure you feel heard and included."

"I appreciate that," Voljune says warmly. "I’ll be mindful of when I interject. Your life is yours to live, and I’m here to support you."

As she walks, Jihyo considers the best way to share control over their shared existence. "When it comes to making decisions, especially about Diabolos and the others, let’s make sure we discuss things first. I trust your judgment, but I also need to stay true to myself."

"That’s fair," Voljune agrees. "And if there’s anything that concerns me, I’ll bring it to your attention. Our partnership should be built on mutual respect and understanding."

Jihyo nods, satisfied with their progress. "Also, if there are moments when I’m too overwhelmed or emotional, I’d appreciate it if you could help ground me. I think your perspective could really help."

Voljune’s presence feels reassuring. "I can do that. And if you find me becoming too intense or overbearing, please let me know. I’m still learning about human emotions and dynamics."

"We’ll figure it out together," Jihyo assures her, feeling a sense of partnership and camaraderie.

As they approach Jihyo’s apartment building, the conversation leaves her feeling hopeful about their future together. The city lights flicker on, casting a warm glow over the streets.

"I’m glad we talked," Jihyo thinks, a sense of gratitude in her heart.

"Me too," Voljune replies. "Thank you for trusting me, Jihyo. I’ll do my best to honor that trust."

As they approach Diabolos and Jihyo’s apartment building, the conversation leaves her feeling hopeful about their future together. The city lights flicker on, casting a warm glow over the streets.

"I’m glad we talked," Jihyo thinks, a sense of gratitude in her heart.

"Me too," Voljune replies. "Thank you for trusting me, Jihyo. I’ll do my best to honor that trust."

As Jihyo climbs the stairs to her apartment, she hesitates for a moment, considering how to bring up one last topic that’s been on her mind.

"Voljune, can we talk about something else?" she asks, a hint of embarrassment coloring her mental voice.

"Of course," Voljune responds, her curiosity piqued. "What’s on your mind?"

Jihyo takes a breath, feeling slightly awkward. "It's just… my body has been feeling super sensitive lately. It's like everything is dialed up to eleven, and it's kind of overwhelming."

Voljune’s presence shifts to one of understanding. "Ah, I see. My enhancements might be amplifying your sensory perceptions. I can adjust that for you."

"That would be great," Jihyo admits, relief evident in her tone. "I love being able to feel more connected, but it’s been a bit intense, especially during practice."

"I’ll make the changes gradually," Voljune assures her. "Let me know if you feel more comfortable."

As they continue their ascent, Jihyo notices a gradual easing of the heightened sensations, her body relaxing into a more natural state.

"Thank you," she thinks, a wave of relief washing over her. "This feels much better."

"I’m glad," Voljune responds warmly. "We’ll find the right balance together."

With their new understanding and adjustments in place, Jihyo heads inside, feeling more connected to Voljune and ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

As Jihyo and Voljune step into the apartment, the cozy space greets them with a familiar sense of comfort. Jihyo heads straight for the kitchen, setting down her bag and rolling up her sleeves.

"What should we make tonight?" Jihyo asks, surveying the ingredients in the fridge.

"How about something simple, like stir-fry?" Voljune suggests, her presence is a calming influence.

"Sounds perfect," Jihyo agrees, pulling out vegetables and beef (one of Diabolos’ favorites). As she begins chopping, a thought crosses her mind.

"Voljune, I've been wondering about Diabolos’s scars," Jihyo begins, her voice tentative. "They seem so… deliberate. Do you know how he got them?"

Voljune hesitates for a moment before responding. *"They’re from a process called 'the Severing.' It’s something my sibling, Narset, would do when moving to a new host. It’s meant to disconnect the host’s essence, and body by having Narset absorb the entire host. she does it because she never wants to face a face she's worn before. It is considered highly taboo in our culture

Jihyo pauses, her hand stilling over the cutting board. "But it didn’t kill Diabolos?"

"No," Voljune replies, a note of confusion in her tone. "That’s what’s strange. The Severing should have ended him, yet he survived. He is changed though. He was angirer after the severing, but he seems to have as you humans put it “mellowed out” I am glad you helped him there "

Jihyo pauses her chopping, “Diabolos angry. He was and is one of the kindest people I know.”

“I see that, but it's still strange his shift in both cases,” Voljune responds

As Jihyo resumes chopping, she ponders this revelation. "Do you have any idea why he might have survived?"

"I’ve thought about it," Voljune admits. "Diabolos has always been unique. His willpower, his drive… they’re extraordinary. It’s possible his essence was too strong for the Severing to fully take hold."

Jihyo considers this, her mind turning over the possibilities. "Maybe it’s more than just his willpower," she muses. "Maybe there’s something about him that we don’t fully understand yet."

"It’s possible," Voljune agrees. "There’s much we don’t know about his past or what truly drives him."

As they cook together, the rhythmic chopping and sizzling filling the kitchen, Jihyo reflects on Diabolos’s resilience. It adds another layer to the man she loves, deepening her appreciation for his strength.

*"Maybe we should just ask him.” Jihyo muses for a bit

Voljune stops their body with a jolt, “I don't think that's a good idea the last time I did that he went on a revenge-fueled rampage against Narset only to disappear for multiple years.” Jihyo laughed as their memories sorted themselves and the timeline began to make sense “While the violence and rage he displayed in Voljune’s memory was still concerning all the positive memories of him overridden her discomfort.

“Hey Voljune so how does this severing work and why is it so bad?”

“Well it's simple it's the process of my species overriding the host’s body to consume them to make my species stronger. Typically this is done as a way for one of my species to free themselves from a particularly nasty host but Narset used it as a show of dominance over her host and our people. I can't imagine the pain Diabols went through as his body was turned into a feeding ground for my sibling. It is the highest violation of our symbiosis accords.”

Jihyo nodded before asking, “Diabolos survived that?”

“Yes but as you have seen it wasn't a completely painless survival.”

“Whatever the reason,"* Jihyo thinks, "I’m grateful he survived. I can’t imagine my life without him."

"And now, you’re both stronger together," Voljune adds, her tone warm.

The door opens as Jihyo and Voljune finish cooking to a very relaxed Diabolos entering. Jihyo smiled seeing him.

“Hey Dio how was your day?” she asked with a happy smile.

Diabolos brightened and said, “Oh it was the best they asked to do photos for the zoo and I got to take pictures of the cutest panda.” Diabolos said as he showed Jihyo Voljune took over for a brief moment and said,

“It's good to see that you found other uses for your recon skills.” Diabolos looked into jihyo's eyes and through her eyes Voljune got to see a glimpse of the “Dio” that came home to Jihyo every day

“Are you jealous Jihyo?” asked internally. Voljune felt A little bit more of her consciousness merge with Jihyo's lessening the boundaries between them. She couldn't describe what she felt besides happy. She smiled at Diabolos but then pouted as she remembered and in a spontaneous instance of them being fully synched and their memories fully merged they asked

“Babe, why did you leave? I missed you. You left me all alone. What happened?”

Diabolos was taken aback as he watched this surreal experience of Jihyo+. Seeing the hurt in her eyes his heart softened towards both girls.

He sighed and said, “I wasn't really in a great place emotionally or in any way really. I had just been severed after Narset ripped Gira out of me and major parts of my psyche/personality and overall sense of self were gone besides anger. Anger that was fueled by hatred of Narset. Enough Hatred to reduce a planet to ash.”

That explanation startled both girls but they let him sit in his silent turmoil as he fought with his past.

They watched as he got up and went to the shower. Curious they approached the door and heard silent sobs in the bathroom.

Jihyo asks Vlojune if he will be okay,

Voljune hesitates “I'm not sure. As long as I've known him he's struggled with escalating things too far, and the isolation it causes. He lives life at maximum everything and it's vibrant it's beautiful but it's intense. He can't turn off that thing that pushes him. That thing that drives him. It's made him do some truly amazing things and some truly awful things. You and I share that trait with him but whatever it is it consumes him and keeps him awake at night. What haunts his nightmares is just how much he likes giving in to that thing inside him. When we talked earlier about his survival I wasn't surprised he survived he very nearly expunged my brother from himself at numerous junctures out of sheer will. What surprised me about it was what he did after.”

Jihyo listened and then asked, “What came after?”

“That is a story for another time,” Voljune said as the two set him a plate.

A few nights later Jihyo takes Diabolos for his surprise birthday date.

The rooftop garden is bathed in the soft glow of evening lights. The table is elegantly set with a variety of Diabolos’s favorite dishes. The city skyline provides a breathtaking backdrop, with twinkling lights mirroring the stars above. Soft jazz plays in the background, adding to the ambiance.

Diabolos arrives early, his nerves evident as he adjusts the table settings and glances at the sky, anticipating Jihyo and Voljune’s arrival. He fidgets with his cufflinks and checks his reflection, trying to look his best.

Jihyo and Voljune arrive, Jihyo is dressed in a flowing, elegant dress that compliments the evening’s mood and her delectable curves. Voljune and her agreed that tonight they were going to spend the whole night setting Diabolos’ heart ablaze. Her eyes shine with excitement as she spots Diabolos. She gives him a warm hug and a quick, affectionate kiss, while Voljune’s presence subtly enhances her confidence. Diabolos’s cheeks flush with a mix of surprise and pleasure.

As they sit down, Jihyo serves Diabolos his favorite dish with a teasing smile. “I hope you’re hungry, Dio. I made sure to get everything just the way you like it,” she says, her voice playful. Diabolos smiles grateful for Jihyo. The last few days had really been weighing on him and whenever that happened violent intrusive thoughts began to pile in his skull.

Voljune chimes in through Jihyo, “And don’t think we forgot about your tendency to hoard the last sweet. You might have to share this time.”

Diabolos laughs, visibly flustered. “I’ll try to be on my best behavior,” he replies, playfully rolling his eyes.

During the meal, Jihyo and Voljune decide to play a game of truth or dare. Jihyo starts, “Okay, Diabolos, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Diabolos replies, bracing himself.

“What’s one thing about yourself you’ve never told anyone?” Jihyo asks, leaning closer, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Diabolos hesitates, then admits, “I used to have a secret hobby of painting landscapes. It was a way to escape everything else.”

Voljune, through Jihyo, whispers in Diabolos’s ear, “Dare him to sing one of his favorite songs.”

Jihyo grins mischievously and says, “Alright, now for a dare. Sing us a verse from your favorite song.”

Diabolos chuckles, his face reddening, but he obliges before belting out the first of “What Was All About” by Sum 41, causing Jihyo and Voljune to laugh and cheer him on.

Jihyo’s smiled “You're quite the singer have you ever thought about being a trainee?” she asked teasingly. Diabolos shook his head exacerbated before saying an emphatic no.

As the night progresses, Jihyo and Voljune use their combined knowledge to touch on personal topics. Jihyo softly says, “I remember you mentioned how hard it was to balance your career and personal life. How do you manage it now?”

Diabolos smiled and said, “It's simple one step at a time, plus I have the best girlfriend in the whole universe, and yes I'm not being hyperbolic.

Voljune adds through Jihyo, “And what about those quiet moments you cherish the most? We want to hear about them.”

Diabolos smiles and holds Jihyo’s hand. She and Voljune jump at the gentle strength behind his grip.

“I will never forget the time you waltzed into that in-n-out with Sana and the rest of the girls and you sat right across from me with this big toothy grin.”

Jihyo laughs as she's genuinely touched by the gesture.

Diabolos looks touched by their interest and shares stories of his struggles and triumphs. He appreciates how they blend their knowledge to create a more profound connection.

During a lull in conversation, Jihyo gently brushes a strand of hair from Diabolos’s face, her fingers lingering. Voljune’s influence makes the touch more intimate, and Diabolos shivers slightly, his breath catching.

Voljune subtly guides Jihyo’s hand to rest on Diabolos’s arm, enjoying the way he responds to the contact. “You look so handsome tonight,” Jihyo murmurs, her voice infused with affection. Diabolos smiles and then says, “You know yo-yo you look absolutely stunning tonight as well.” Jihyo smiles as she gets up to kiss his cheek.

As the music changes to a slow, romantic tune, Jihyo stands and extends her hand to Diabolos. “May I have this dance?” she asks with a playful smile.

Diabolos takes her hand, and they move to the center of the rooftop. Voljune’s presence adds a radiant quality to Jihyo’s graceful movements, making the dance fluid mesmerizing, and glowing literally. Diabolos is drawn into the rhythm, his initial awkwardness melting away as he holds Jihyo close.

After dancing, they find a cozy spot on a plush blanket, lying back to gaze at the stars. Jihyo snuggles against Diabolos, her head resting on his shoulder, while Voljune enjoys the peaceful moment. They share their dreams and fears, their voices blending in a harmonious conversation.

As the evening winds down, Jihyo and Voljune share a tender kiss with Diabolos, their affection evident. Diabolos wraps his arms around them both, feeling the warmth and connection they share.

Jihyo whispers, “We’ll face whatever comes next together.”

Diabolos nods, his heart full of gratitude and love. “Together,” he replies.

They sit quietly for a moment, the stars their only witness, knowing that whatever challenges lie ahead, they will face them together.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #twice jihyo #jihyo smut #park jihyo

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shaunamilfman · 5 months

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Dating Vault Dweller Lucy MacLean

never written anything but yellowjackets before but her girlfailure energy and complete lack of skills has entranced me

insists on giving you a tour of her vault. you could see everything interesting just from standing and turning in a circle, but she just has to show you all the “best spots”. it's just corners with interesting cracks in them.

takes you on little picnic dates because she read about them in her book club once. sitting around in the field eating canned tuna while people work around you but she's having a great fucking time. you've never seen her smile more.

big-time yapper. can talk for hours about the most niche topics if you let her. by the time she's done you can name almost every major player in some small skirmish 300 years ago. she gets so excited when she notices you're paying attention to whatever she's talking about. The girl just lights up and talks so fast you've got to ask her to slow down

if you didn't like reading before you'd better learn to love it because you will be joining that bookclub. by the time you've gotten around to reading it Lucy's pretty much spoiled the whole thing by accident. she just wants someone to talk about the exciting bits with and gets ahead of herself. sheepishly avoids eye contact when you put the book down and sigh.

she likes when you're good at things but lowkey resents when you're better at something than she is. you beat her out in riflery and she has such a strained smile when congratulating you on it. she hates not being good at something so much that she feels guilty for it.

definitely said “Golly!” after your first kiss

loves to sit around on your bed and watch you get ready. it takes all of five seconds to get your outfit on but she insists it's one of the best parts of her day.

insists on showering together to “save water”. always gets a little handsy but still rushes you out on time because she feels bad at the idea of wasting water.

Lucy wants to do anything and everything she can for you. she wants to impress you and show you how much she brings to the table, and the habit kind of just stays even after your relationship is well established. She takes a lot of pride in her skills and what better use for them than making life easier for her partner.

So easily won over by praise. No matter how sad or upset she is, you can always cheer her up at least a little by telling her how smart or good at something she is.

cannot be suave or subtle no matter how hard she tries. and she does, a lot. tries to hit you up with a one liner and tells the punch line first. tries to lean against the wall and stumbles face-first into it. makes you dinner and trips over the edge of a rug and drops it on your shoes. you just make her so nervous.

she's so blunt that it leads to the most awkward situations, but you almost prefer it to the havoc she brings when she purposely tries to be charming.

cannot lie to save her life. she’ll definitely try if it means sparing your feelings but she's so obviously lying that it doesn’t matter much. all “wow… you did such a good job!” but she’s choking it out and cannot meet your eyes.

she's so attached to you. would follow you from room to room all day if she could get away with it. she needs such constant affection and gives so much in return that it's a little overwhelming at first.

definitely the type to lick her thumb and try to rub the dirt off your forehead with it. she's so embarrassing, honestly. fiddles with your clothes to make sure they're presentable. you're going to dinner with 20 other people all wearing the same outfit, but god forbid yours is a little wrinkly.

you can always tell when she wants you to do something romantic for her because she'll leave out your nicest jumpsuit for you to wear as a hint.

catches you watching her fix pipes and assumes you want to learn instead of just ogling her. tries to explain it and you're like “yeah? that's crazy…” till she finally gets the hint. always looks so proud when she realizes you find her attractive, even after you've been together for a while.

lowers your guard with the most innocent-looking smile and then suddenly says “we should have sex” with all the subtlety of a train wreck. that awkward bluntness rearing its head again. can always trust Lucy to say the quiet part out loud.

loves to flirt with you but she is so bad at it. doesn't recognize the fact that she's bad at it either. hits you up with the worst fucking line known to man and looks so quietly smug about it.

#fallout x reader #lucy maclean x reader

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navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

Sundresses and Leather

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Your first date with Bucky doesn't go as planned, but that makes it all the more special. Word Count: Over 4.7k Warnings: First date, tension, flirting, brief moments of insecurity, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly. Previous Part of AU: Sweet and Strong A/N: More Hottie and Sugar from our Sin on Skin AU. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you for spitballing), but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Tonight was the night. You were going out with Bucky Barnes. Excited for the date was a bit of an understatement. You may have told a few customers you had a date when they wished you a good day.

Thank God they were mostly regulars and seemed happy on my behalf.

"Maybe a sundress isn't nice enough," you told Tess, regretting the words the moment they left your mouth. She didn’t need to deal with you and your overthinking. Again.

"It's plenty nice. You’re going to look amazing,” she argued, going to check on the next batch of cookies. “And he can lift the skirt and bury his-"

"I thought you said I didn't have to get laid on my first date with him," you cut her off.

"You don't have to, but the visual alone will give him something for his spank bank later."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," you smiled, but it quickly faltered.

You weren’t sure why a cloud drifted over your sunny disposition. Bucky was a good guy, a far cry from Richard. Gorgeous, kind, hardworking, the whole package. There was chemistry between the two of you that went beyond mere attraction. Maybe it was the fact that you were falling hard and fast for him that suddenly made you so nervous. You didn’t want to scare him away.

But he said he couldn’t stop thinking about me and he wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it.

Tess gave you a pointed look. “Stop overthinking. I’m begging you.”

“I’m not trying to,” you sighed, your nerves almost tempting you to grab a treat from the case. “What if I fall on my face?”

“Like Bucky would let you hit the ground. Even if you do stumble, that’s life. It isn’t going to change the fact that he likes you,” she said as you helped her with the cookies. You still had work to do. “The guy said he can’t get you off his mind and to text him whenever you want. He does not strike me as the type to just say those things and I know he doesn’t strike you as that type either.”

It took a moment, but your smile came back. She was right. Life wasn’t perfect and you were far from it, but Bucky liked you just as you are. Tonight would be unforgettable no matter what.

“I appreciate the pep talk,” you said, thankful that she told you what you needed to hear. “I’ll even tell you the dirty details if anything happens.”

“Hell yeah, you will. Remember, at this point, I’m living vicariously through you until I find my own hunk,” she winked. “But I mean it. Have fun tonight and get your man.”

I will.

After your shift, you rushed to change for your date. You somehow managed to arrive a few minutes early outside of Bucky's shop and took a deep breath to get yourself under control. Catching your reflection in the window, you smiled before you turned away. Since Bucky hadn’t given you any hint for what you were doing, you chose your nicest sundress and kept your makeup minimal. You looked and felt beautiful, though you wished you would’ve brought a jacket with you.

Maybe Bucky will let me borrow his if he has one.

“Holy shit.”

You spun around when you heard Bucky’s voice behind you, your heart fluttering as he met you on the sidewalk. Instead of the jeans you usually saw him in, he wore khakis, a button up shirt, and a blue blazer that matched his eyes. He had his hair down, perfectly parted on the right side. You were so busy staring at the broad, handsome man that it took you a moment to realize he was trying to hand you something.

Flowers.

“Sorry. You just… wow,” he said as you took the small bouquet, sweeping his gaze over you as your cheeks grew warm. “You look so beautiful.”

You giggled and quickly covered your mouth with your hand, butterflies in your stomach when he gently smiled. “Don’t apologize,” you smiled back, taking a moment to smell the flowers. “You look pretty ‘holy shit’ yourself.”

His nose scrunched as he laughed and offered you his hand. “So, you’re telling me I clean up well. Steve insisted on the blazer when I said I wanted to bring my leather jacket.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Though I wouldn’t have minded the leather jacket,” you said. He would’ve looked gorgeous, as always. “And thank you for suggesting we meet here. We had a last minute order and I was scrambling."

"It's no problem. One of my clients was running a few minutes late and I almost had to take you out in jeans."

"I wouldn't have minded," you said. You both worked hard and understood that things would come up from time to time. "So, where are we headed?"

He cleared his throat as he led you to his car. “Well, do you want the good news or the bad news?”

Your stomach dropped a little. “Mmm. Bad news first,” you said after a moment. “Always better to end on a high note.”

“Bad news was I had planned to take you out on my motorcycle so we could have a picnic in the park. There was going to be live music and I would’ve asked you to dance,” he explained, looking up at the sky. “But…”

“The weather called for a storm tonight, didn’t it?” you mused, a wistful smile on your face when he nodded. The image of being in his arms under the stars as music drifted through the air made your heart skip a beat. It sounded like the perfect evening.

“Yeah. The band is rescheduling,” he said, tucking his hair behind his ear as he looked at the ground. “Then I thought I could take you to this art gallery nearby. They normally have these stunning paintings of landscapes and various statues, but the current exhibit is on human sexuality and reproduction. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but maybe it was too much for a first date.”

“Oh, come on. It couldn’t have been that bad,” you argued as he stopped and took out his phone.

“No?” he asked, tapping his screen before he showed you what you assumed was the page for the gallery.

“…That’s a giant dick,” you said before you could stop yourself, tilting your head as you stared at the phone. “And does that say BALLS?”

An older woman crossing in the opposite direction gave you an amused stare before you and Bucky burst into a fit of laughter. You had to hold on his arm to keep from collapsing on the ground. It was the funniest thing you had seen since you could remember and to think you almost saw it in person.

This date is off to a great start.

“Maybe I wanted to see a giant dick and balls,” you said once you caught your breath, pointing at him when he opened his mouth. “And don’t say ‘all I have to do is pull down my pants’ or something like that.”

But I know he has a big dick. I know.

He smirked as he started walking again. “Only if you ask me nicely, Sugar.”

He’s going to kill my ovaries.

“I’ll ask you very nicely, Hottie,” you teased, wondering exactly where you were going then. “If that was the bad news, what’s the good news?”

“I managed to get us a reservation at one of the nicest restaurants in town,” he said, standing a bit taller.

He’s trying to impress me.

“That's really nice. And I’m sure dinner will be amazing,” you assured him, hoping he didn’t beat himself up over having to change his plans. It wasn’t his fault it was going to rain. He could’ve taken you to a fast food place and it would’ve been fine because you were with him.

“Speaking of, I better get us there so we aren’t late,” he said, opening the door for you to get in. “Maybe if you agree to a second date, I can take you out on my bike and have that picnic.”

“I’d love that,” you smiled, carefully putting the flowers in your lap and trying not to appear too eager that he was already thinking of a second date. You glanced around the car when he got in and drove off, noticing it was cleaner than when he took you home days prior.

Did he clean it for me?

You grinned as he hummed along to the radio, watching as he drummed his fingers along the steering wheel. “You could’ve made it as a musician if you weren’t a tattoo artist.”

“Now you’re just flattering me, Sugar,” he said. “Believe it or not, if I wasn’t a tattoo artist, I would’ve liked to be a science teacher. I loved science and everything space related growing up.”

“Really?” you asked. He would’ve been a wonderful teacher, no matter what age group he taught. “Okay. That’s another date night.”

“What? Playing teacher?” he joked, taking his eyes off the road for a second to wink at you.

“No,” you giggled, carefully shoving his arm since he was driving. “We’re going to a science museum. That's our third date. I’m going to watch you happily geek out over everything.”

“Yeah?” he asked, glancing at you after he parked the car. “You’d do that?”

“Yeah, I would. I think it would be a blast.”

I just want to spend time with you.

A soft expression took over his features when he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips lightly brushed your skin, heat pooling in your gut as he made eye contact with you. The look alone made you want to skip dinner and go right to dessert. Why not throw caution to the wind?

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised before he got out.

You exhaled slowly and mentally told your libido to calm down. At the very least, you had to get through dinner. He went through the trouble of getting a reservation at a nice place and you weren’t about to take that away from him.

“Oh, wow. I haven’t been here before,” you said once you got a look at the name. Richard used to brag about the place, but never actually took you. From what you remember, he said the food was supposed to be expensive. You didn’t want Bucky to splurge on you.

“I haven’t either,” Bucky admitted. A fancy place didn’t seem like his style. “But it looked romantic.”

You bit your lip as he opened the door, the flickering candlelight in the entryway alone providing an intimate ambience. The date may not have been what he planned, but he clearly did his research and put thought into doing something nice for you. When was the last time someone tried to do something nice for you? When did anyone go out of their way to make you feel special?

“Hello,” Bucky said as the hostess greeted you. “Reservation for two under James.”

James?

The hostess scanned her screen before she looked up. “I’m sorry. That name isn’t coming up.”

Bucky’s cheeks turned pink when you glanced at him. “It should be under James, miss. James Barnes. Reservation for two for 7pm. I spoke with Charles. He confirmed it.”

You moved closer to Bucky when the hostess searched through her screen again. As calm as he sounded, you sensed he was anything but inside. You hoped he wasn’t embarrassed. Maybe she skipped over his name. A simple mistake.

“Charles did make a reservation for you, but he entered it for 7pm next Friday,” she said as she looked between the two of you. “We’re fully booked tonight. I'm sorry, James.”

Oh, no.

There was a tick in Bucky’s jaw before he shook his head and you wanted nothing more than to hug him. “No, that’s… It’s for tonight.”

“I’m so sorry. I can see if we can squeeze a table in for you, but it’ll be at least an hour,” she said, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. She probably expected one or both of you to make a scene. "I can get my manager?"

Bucky swallowed when he looked at you, his cheeks still pink. The candlelight danced in his eyes, but all you saw was sadness. No. You wouldn't allow that. This was your first date and it was going to be amazing.

You put a hand on his arm, his muscles relaxing under your touch. "It's okay. I know this amazing place that’s right around the corner."

"Are you sure?" he asked, the hostess visibly relaxing when you nodded.

"You have a good evening," you said to the hostess and tugged Bucky back toward the door. "I'm sure. Trust me. We may even beat the rain if we walk now."

“Okay,” he said, avoiding your gaze as you left. “Fuck. This is the worst first date, isn’t it?”

Your heart broke for him. All he wanted was to give you a nice evening and everything he tried fell through. “Not even close. And you have nothing to apologize for. Charles messed up the reservation, Hottie, not you.”

“Yeah, he did,” he said, his lip tugging like he wanted to smile. “I just really wanted tonight to be special and since I couldn’t give you the date I planned, I wanted to at least give you something nice. I couldn't even do that.”

Hearing that made you stop, even when you felt the first raindrop. "Tonight is special because you're spending time with me. That's all I wanted," you promised, squeezing his hand for good measure.

"That's really all?" he asked as he squeezed your hand in return.

"Well, not completely," you teased as another raindrop landed on your shoulder. "Maybe a kiss at the end of our date."

A wide smile formed on his face as he leaned in, not quite kissing you. "Whatever you want, Sugar."

As romantic as it was to stand on the sidewalk with him, the rain began to come down harder and had you rushing with him around the corner. “If you're still disappointed, you’ll feel much better when we eat. Antonia’s has the best food,” you said, holding out your hand in a grand gesture as you arrived. “Tada!”

Antonia's was a bit of a hole-in-the-wall kind of place. Not extraordinary on the outside, but lively and bright on the inside. The food and service were top notch. It was one of your favorite places.

“Wait, Antonia's?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes. “This is where you’re taking me?”

“Yeah,” you replied, suddenly nervous as you faced him. Did he not like it? “Is this okay?”

“This is one of my new favorite restaurants,” he said.

No way.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I designed one of Antonia's tattoos. And I decided to check out the place."

He's full of surprises.

"Then you know you're in for a treat," you winked.

The hearty aroma of the restaurant filled the air as you went inside and wiped some of the rain off your dress. Antonia was speaking with the hostess as you went up to the stand. The owner was involved in virtually every part of her restaurant.

"Welcome to…" Antonia began as she looked at you, then at Bucky, then back at you. "Oh! You two… it's a date!"

Antonia looks so happy.

"Hi. And yes. We're on a date," you giggled when Bucky sheepishly smiled. It was sweet. "You wouldn't happen to have a table for two available, would you?"

Antonia put her hand over her heart and flagged down a waiter with the other. "Lover's special for these two. Go."

You exchanged a look with Bucky, who appeared just as confused as you were. "Lover's special?"

"Yes, yes. Come with me," she said, patting Bucky's cheek before she took you through the restaurant. You expected her to seat you at one of the few empty tables, but she passed them to take you to a door in the back. "Tonight is special and that means a special dinner."

Your eyes widened at the sight before you once she opened the door. There was a lone table in the middle of the room, flowers similar to the bouquet Bucky gave you sat in the center. Unlike the bright main room, the dimmed lights gave the room a romantic glow.

Perfect.

"Peter will serve you. And if you need anything, just ask, okay?" Antonia asked, putting her hand over her heart again. Were there tears in her eyes? "Two of my favorite customers. Together! Enjoy!"

You had to pause and swallow the lump in your throat once she left you alone. A restaurant owner showed more enthusiasm for your date than your mom did for anything that involved you. She likely never would.

"You okay?" Bucky asked, pulling out your chair.

"I'm fine," you replied, refusing to let the thought of your mom damper the evening. "A little chilly. I should've brought a sweater with me."

Bucky removed his blazer and put it around you, tenderness in his blue eyes as he rubbed your arms. "I can't wait to see you in my leather jacket," he said, helping you take your seat before he took his.

Oh, he's going to give me his jacket? Am I going to only wear his jacket? Fuck.

"Thank you," you said, inhaling as he rolled up one of his sleeves beneath the elbow and then the other. You reached across the table to lightly trace one of the tattoos on his right arm. "It was nice of Antonia to put us back here."

"Then why did you look so sad when she left?"

He caught that?

"She just looked so happy to see us together and I didn't expect that. It's nice that someone is rooting for us," you said, tracing your finger along his wrist before you stopped. "I'm sorry. I should've asked before I started touching."

"Don't apologize. I like your touch," he said in a low voice.

You lifted your gaze, seeing fire in his eyes that had nothing to do with the dim lighting. When he turned his hand over to hold yours, you made no move to pull away. You wished you could put your hands all over him.

"Hi! I'm Peter!" The waiter greeted as he brought water to the table. Bucky didn't let go of your hand. "I'll be taking care of you tonight."

"Only one taking care of my girl tonight is me," Bucky said. As much as you loved hearing that, you were glad he gave poor Peter a tiny smile so he could relax. "I'm kidding. It's good to see you, Peter."

"Y-You, too, Mr. Barnes. And you, Miss. You have the best cupcakes in town."

"Thanks," you smiled, quickly putting in your order before you gazed at Bucky. "So, James. Tell me more about you. How long have you been friends with Steve?"

"James is my first name. Everyone calls me Bucky," he chuckled before he shook his head. "And that punk."

You smiled softly as you listened to Bucky, not at all surprised by how easily the conversation went. Steve was his best friend since childhood and they served together before they went into business together. It was evident that he took pride in his shop and respected everyone who worked there. He carried the same affection in his tone when he spoke about his sister, Rebecca. He liked to frequent art galleries with Steve, but also enjoyed riding his bike, reading, and everything science in his spare time.

I could listen to him talk for hours.

"You know, you haven't said much about yourself," he pointed out as he set his napkin on his empty plate.

"I haven't?" You asked.

"No, you haven't and I don't want to monopolize the conversation," he said, leaning forward to give you his full attention. "I want to know more about you."

You tightened the blazer around you, unsure of what to say. "My life isn't exactly exciting," you said, wishing you could think of something clever or fun to discuss.

"Doesn't have to be exciting. I just want to know you," he said before Peter showed back up.

"Would you like to look at the desert menu?" he asked as he took your plates away.

"I think you can bring the check. We're going to skip dessert," you answered, giving Bucky an assuring smile when he frowned. "Let's go to my shop instead."

If Bucky wanted to really know you, you had to tell him more of your story. Your bakery was the only place to do it. And it would be the perfect way to end the evening.

After you left the restaurant, with Antonia asking you to come back again, Bucky drove as safely as he could to the bakery. The rain didn't let up at all. You shrieked as you struggled to get the keys out of your purse, Bucky's blazer now soaked the longer you stood there. "Why didn't I get these out when I was still in your car?!" You shouted over the downpour.

"Why didn't I bring an umbrella?!" He yelled back, putting his hands over your head as if they would protect you.

The two of you practically fell through the door once you unlocked it and shut off the alarm. "We made it," you laughed, careful not to slip on the floor. He had his arm around you just in case. Tess was right, He wouldn't let you fall. "I'll get us some towels and you have your pick of any dessert I have in the fridge."

"You have any cupcakes?" He asked.

Your breath caught in your throat when you stepped back and caught the outline of multiple tattoos through his soaked shirt. "Yeah."

"See something you like?" he smirked, running a hand through his wet hair.

Fuck me.

"I do," you said, glancing down at yourself. "But I'm freezing and I owe you dessert."

Tess might also have words if I let Bucky ravage me by the front door.

You took Bucky to the kitchen and grabbed a few towels. It wouldn't dry you off completely, but it would help. You also put on some soft music. Not to set the mood necessarily, but just in case.

"So, this is where the magic happens," Bucky said, running the towel along his exposed skin.

"It is," you said, placing your hand on the counter. "You said you wanted to know me. It starts here."

"In the kitchen?"

"In the kitchen," you repeated, going to the fridge to take a container of cupcakes out. "I used to visit my grandparents every weekend when I was growing up. My dad wasn't around and my mom said it was for family quality time, but she never stuck around. The reality was that I cramped her style and she passed me off to them because she knew they wouldn't say no."

Bucky's jaw clenched as you let him take a cupcake. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," you said, gripping the lid tightly before you closed the container. "I remember crying because I wanted to take dance classes and try and make friends. My mom said I would be a terrible dancer and that it would be a waste of time and money. A great thing for a kid to hear, right?"

"Jesus," he whispered.

It wasn't exactly the happiest conversation to have, but you wanted to show Bucky a part of you that you didn't show to most people. "My grandma wiped my tears away and brought me into her kitchen. Said she had the perfect cure for the blues. Baking. And that's what we did every weekend until I got old enough to look after myself."

"Your grandma sounds amazing," he said, carefully examining the cupcake in his hand. "And baking became your passion."

"It did. She taught me to pour love into every creation I make. And that's what Tess and I do for others. If someone is having a bad day, at least they can have a treat and feel a little better," you said, pride in your eyes as you looked around. "My grandma supported my dream, but my mom almost disowned me for wanting to run this place. It isn't good enough in her eyes."

I'm not good enough.

Bucky's nostrils flared as he set the dessert down. "Your business isn't good enough for her? What the hell? It's flourishing. I can barely find a lull to come in to get some undivided attention. And your customers love you. She should be proud of you."

His defense of you was heartwarming. "Doesn't matter how successful my business is. She wanted me to marry rich, probably so she could get money from me, but I didn't. She berated me when I broke up with Richard. No matter what I do, I'm never going to be good enough in her eyes," you told him, patting the counter with your hand. "But this makes me happy and that's enough."

"That's why you were sad that Antonia was so happy about our date, wasn't it? Because your mom either doesn't or wouldn't support it," he guessed, reaching for you and pulling you into his arms. "She'll probably hate me. I'm not rich. Covered in tattoos."

"I don't care what she thinks of you. I don't need a rich guy or fancy dates. I just want someone who can provide companionship and support. Someone who respects and cares for me," you said, wrapping your arms around him. "A good, hard-working guy like you deserves the same."

It was too soon to voice it, but Bucky was the kind of man you needed in your life. Someone you could share parts of yourself with and know he wouldn't judge. A man who made your heart race beyond lust.

A partnership.

He stared deeply into your eyes and you had no idea what was going through his head, but his gaze told you so much. How could a pair of eyes be so expressive? "You're perfect, Sugar, and more than enough. You hear me?"

Tears welled up in your eyes before you blinked them away. He sounded sincere and unashamed at his declaration. You hadn't done anything to deserve such praise. "No, I'm not," you whispered.

"You are to me. You took a chance and asked me out. Soothed me when tonight didn't go the way I thought it would," he said, gripping your chin to recapture your gaze. "And you trusted me enough to share something vulnerable with me when you didn't have to. It means everything."

"I feel like I can open up to you," you said as the two of you slowly swayed to the beat. You couldn't remember why you were nervous about your date to begin with.

"And I'll take care of you. I mean it."

I hope he knows I'll take care of him, too.

"You know," you began with a soft smile. "Our first kiss was in your shop."

"It was," he smiled.

"So I think it's only fair that we have our second kiss in my shop," you said.

"You did say you wanted a kiss to end our date," he said, bringing a hand to the back of your neck, but giving you a chance to stop him.

You didn't.

Even though you expected it, you still gasped when he molded his mouth against yours. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, making you both eager and pliant as he licked his way across your lips. When he brushed his tongue against yours and took possession of your mouth, you mewled. Desire nearly blinded you from the taste of him.

I want more.

"I don't want our date to end," you breathed, clutching his arms to steady yourself.

"It doesn't have to," he said, resting a hand on your hip. His eyes were dark and full of want. To have him look at you that way, how could you possibly end the evening with one kiss? Why deny yourself what you both wanted?

"No, it doesn't," you agreed with a coy smile. "So. My place or yours?"

So. How do we think the evening will go? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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beetlejuicyy · 6 months

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╭─────────── ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ───────────╮ ╰─────────── ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ───────────╯

Yearning | Shinazugawa Sanemi x reader

Summary: you get very horny after your first mission with Sanemi

Warnings: !nsfw! smut with some plot

Word count: 8,216

Read it on AO3

Notes: I needed to get this out of my system after watching the movie

Masterlist

The most annoying thing about you was that you were friends with Tomioka Giyuu, Sanemi thought as he stole glimpses at you from the corner of his eye. He couldn't stand that guy. The way he looked upon others was always from a superior point of view. The way he talked, rarely and unbothered, was always a favor for anyone who could hear him. You were the same, somewhat worse. On top of all of Tomioka Giyuu's flaws, when you would open your mouth to talk daggers seemed to stab him. You were brutally honest when provoked by him and almost too sure of your own strength. The big difference, however, was that Shinazugawa Sanemi wanted to kill Tomioka for his attitude, while he wanted to fuck you out of it.

He never really knew how to talk to you. Granted, he would never act based on his feelings or let them show in any way. He admired you for your strength as well as your beauty. While he did respect you as one of his fellow Hashira, his eyes would always slip down your body, too weak to resist the way your uniform fit on your curves, the soft skin of your exposed neck or your long hair that always smelled like summer flowers. He would soon fight with himself to stop staring at you, afraid that someone might notice. He would always find moments when he was sure no one was looking, not even you, to see from the distance how bad your injuries were after a mission and he would try to find out if you were fine from the people at the infirmary. But he would never tell you. You rarely ran into each other because of countless missions back to back, both of you being Hashira. You worked on your own most of the time, backed up by lower ranked demon slayers or alongside Tomioka on tougher missions, simply because you got along very well. You and Shinazugawa met occasionally in training, although rather seldom, and during the official meetings at the Ubuyashiki manor. He felt the need to get closer to you, but he didn't have the means to do so. So he resorted to what he knew best, attacking Tomioka indirectly, knowing that you won't miss the chance to step in and try to outsmart him with another witty remark. Most of the words exchanged between the two of you were on a passive-aggressive tone and he was certain that his feelings, buried deep inside his heart, were concealed by the well-known rivalry.

Although he noticed this method was effective in getting your attention, Shinazugawa didn't know exactly to what extent you enjoyed this type of bickering. You too found him annoying. Sometimes he would talk more than needed and he had too good of an opinion about himself. He was cold and senseless sometimes, too focused on the details to be able to see the bigger picture. He wasn’t exactly the nicest person you could stumble upon, but he wasn’t a bad person either. Shinazugawa was hard to approach, intimidating and challenging but most of all you loved getting him angry. Tomioka didn't need anyone stepping up for him, and you didn't do it for your friend's sake anyway. You simply enjoyed to hear Shinazugawa's raspy voice grow in volume and see the anger in his eyes whenever he would feel intimidated, belittled or dismissed. He was hot, you thought one day, appalled, as he ran after Giyuu almost attacking him physically, if it hadn't been for the other Hashira. But you never let it show. You were sure he hated you as much as he hated your friend. You had to be a veritable masochist to have a crush on a guy like him.

Now, despite your reputation as arch enemies, you had been sent on a mission together. It was almost strange to see how well the two of you got along, especially on the battlefield, when you weren't pressured to hide the obvious from other people. You soon noticed that, contrary to his unfriendly nature, Shinazugawa paid a lot of attention to you, conveyed in small gestures.

"Look, the owner said his wife is a healer." He said in the softest voice you ever heard him talk, offering you a small bottle filled with a herbal mixture. You had travelled for a couple of days by that time and stopped at an inn on your way to grab something to eat. When you looked at him questioningly, he looked the other way. "You have been in pain since this morning." And indeed you were feeling some discomfort, altough you never said a word about it, because, before being a demon slayer, you were a woman with a natural body cycle. Maybe he really was a gentleman, although you would have never guessed it, you thought on multiple occasions. Then again, you would remember how everyone saw him and you shook the thought off your mind.

The demon you were after was hard to track. It took a couple of weeks to find its whereabouts, plenty of time for you and Shinazugawa to get comfortable around each other. He was actually sweet, you found yourself thinking as he did his best to maintain a conversation. You liked the sound of his laugh, although it was closer to a low giggle, whenever you tried to crack a joke. You’ve never heard it before but it made your heart flutter a little. Even the silence started to feel comfortable. After a couple of days of trying to find different topics to talk about, you learned a lot about him, although it was only trivial aspects of his life. By now, simply exchanging looks was enough to understand each other.

The fight too place near a small village hidden in the mountains. It was a powerful demon, even though both of you were two of the strongest demon slayers. Shinazugawa’s injuries were worse than yours and he almost lost consciousness by the end of the battle, but you took care of him until the morning, when the people from the village came. They were beyond grateful to you so, in exchange for your services, the head of the village offered to have you stay at the onsen until you regained enough strength for travelling back home.

***

Usually, after a fight, you would sleep like a baby. It was the deepest and most restful sleep that allowed your body to heal properly. No dreams to keep your mind busy, no need to wake up thirsty or any other reason could compromise the sweet moment of relaxation after driving your body to its maximum strength. But this time was different. Maybe because you had spent so much time with Shinazugawa, or maybe those few hours until sunrise while you tended to his injuries were to be blamed. But you had a wet dream. You woke up, confused and well aware of the fact that you were wet. You could still remember all the details, all the positions you imagined yourself in, the way his voice sounded in your ears while grunting and moaning your name, his white hair wet sticking to the back of his neck and his forehead because of sweat, sounds of skin slapping against skin, his palm pressed open just below your navel as he thrusted into you- No. You shook your head, trying to get it out of your mind. You had a crush on him, yes. You found him attractive, yes. You occasionally had dirty thoughts about him. But this was getting out of hand. The worst, still, was that the dream didn’t even help with anything, it only made you aware of how attracted you were to him, how horny he made you feel. It was because you spent so much time together, for sure. Also, the adrenaline of the battle could have this type of side effects in the body often. You could lie to yourself as much as you wanted, but you had never experienced it with anyone else before, you knew that. Now that you were thinking about it, it was around two weeks or so since he gave you that painkiller for your period.

You were ovulating.

The realization left you feeling even more helpless. In any other case, you could hope to fight it, hide it, ignore it. But now, aware of your hormones going crazy inside your body for a few days, you could do nothing about it. It made you feel helpless. The thought of fucking Shinazugawa couldn’t leave your mind. Come to think about it, he was very kind to you these past few weeks. He couldn’t… No. Or maybe there was a small chance he did? Small gestures, kind words, playful and easy going behaviour, all these things were the total opposite of what you expected of him. Could he like you?

***

Despite the blood, sweat and dirt covering your body after fighting a demon, you still smelled like the flowers in summer. Yes, now that his nose was barely touching your shoulder he could fell that it wasn’t only in your hair, the soft and sweet smell was everywhere on your body. Sanemi desperately wanted to open his eyes to see you, but he was too exhausted. The warmth of your body covered him like a thin blanket and he found it in himself to force his hand to grab you by the sleeve. But there was no sleeve because he felt the warm skin of your arm and almost heard the soft coo of your voice when you told him to stay still. Using the last drop of strength that he had, his eyes were obliged to open, even faintly between lashes, to witness your body leaning over his. Above your waist, your body was covered only in your undergarments, hence your bare arm that he was still clinging to. If he hadn’t been covered in blood you could probably see his skin turn to a shade of red, as the silky skin of your chest was only inches away from his face.

Shinazugawa turned around on the futon for the hundredth time. He had been awake for a while now. When he woke up, his body sore and his mind cloudy, the first thing he noticed was that the material around his arm resembled his own uniform. He quickly remembered getting stabbed there, it probably was the deepest wound on his body. So that’s why you were undressed, Shinazugawa thought. Indeed, he hadn’t been hallucinating. You used your own shirt to improvise a tight bandage on his arm in order to reduce blood loss.

Not long after he woke, a girl working at the onsen brought him water and a tray with food. He didn’t have an appetite but munched on it anyway, knowing it will help him build back his strength.

“How is she?” He asked the girl while she was pushing the door closed as she exited theb room.

“Your colleague?” He nodded. He didn’t like the word colleague, it was too formal and too cold for what he wanted you to be. At the same time, he didn’t know how to refer to you. “She’s still asleep, I believe. Thanks to her first aid skills your body is quicker to recover than expected.” Part of him was relieved now that someone confirmed your safety. The last thing he remembered was defeating the demon together, but collapsing to the ground shortly after, losing control over his worn out body. Glimpses of you flashed in Shinazugawa’s memory chaotically. However, your clothes as his bandage was proof enough that they were not just a product of his imagination.

“I need to change these bandages. Bring me some?” The girl bowed and left quickly. She probably had a lot of work to attend to or rather she was scared of him to some extent.

When the girl came back she was not alone but accompanied by the owner of the onsen, whose face Shinazugawa didn’t remember since he was already unconscious when the villagers arrived, and another man who seemed to be a doctor.

“I can handle it myself.” He quickly dismissed them when, after offering his gratitude once again for killing the demon, the owner suggested that the young girl would help him wash up while the doctor checked up on his body. No additional pleas were allowed. The girl left a basin with fresh water and a basket of clean bandages and ointment by the futon and they left the room.

More than anything, Shianzugawa wanted silence. But he couldn’t have it. Now that the mission was fulfilled, there was nothing else to keep his mind busy and distract him from you. Moreover, you would be leaving soon. He loved having you all to himself. And you seemed to like it too, he would think sometimes. You were not as irritating as before and, to his surprise, all the things he found difficult about you turned into qualities that he appreciated. It was only Tomioka’s fault, he mumbled to himself. What he most afraid of was that, once you would be back home, you would go back to spending time with that bastard. All this time you shared would be forgotten and everything would go back to normal.

“Shinazugawa? You’re awake?” Shinazugawa’s bared back was turned to the door as you opened it carefully. He was sitting on the floor, checking some minor wounds. He turned around to look at you, his breath stuck in his throat as he noticed you were wearing only a thin robe loosely tied around the waist. It exposed your chest to a degree he’s never witnessed, granted that your uniform was always buttoned up and covering your breasts entirely.

“Y-yeah.” He quickly found his voice and shifted on the futon, turning to face you. He was only wearing a pair of clean pants. The upper side of his body was covered in bruises or bandages and he was barefoot. “Good job on the mission.” He blurted out, without even thinking about it. He felt pressured to talk, thinking that conversation would distract you from noticing the effect your attire had on him. But you started walking towards him and, with every step, he felt his heart beat faster and faster. His expression was stern and seemingly uninterested, but his eyes alone travelled from your bared calves along the line of your legs until they were completely hidden by the robe, high enough that he expected to see the colour of your panties with every step you took. You didn’t have anything underneath that robe, it was obvious from the way the lose knot around your waist could come undone any minute, from the generous amount of chest that was exposed, from the way one of your sleeves was hanging lower than the other, almost revealing your bare shoulder. Shinazugawa was thirsty. He felt his lips part without control in an awed expression as you crouched down next to him and placed your palm on his forehead. He was thirsty, but water could never quench the kind of thirst he had.

“I was afraid you would catch an infection with all those open wounds. You seem fine.” It was embarrassing how difficult he found it to swallow his own saliva.

“I’m perfectly fine.” He pushed your hand away gently. If you touched him for one more second, he was afraid his heart would burst. He couldn’t look away from you though. There was something about you he had never seen before. And it wasn’t only the way your nipples poked against the thin material of the robe you were wearing, although it was a very compelling sight.

“We're at an onsen. It would be a shame not to take advantage of it.” You said standing up. He would take advantage of you, Shinazugawa though but tried to control himself, given that the bulge growing bigger in his pants couldn’t be controlled. “I just can’t find any towels in my room.” You complained looking around his room. It was such a stupid excuse. Of course there were no towels, they would be by the water, not in every room, so you could grab them on your way. But it was the only idea you could come up with, having your mind clouded by the excitement you felt in your lower belly when you thought about Shinazugawa. It was even harder to act normal when you saw him, shirtless, messy white hair, the muscles on his back flexing as he turned to face you.

“I think you can find them there.” He answered. You turned around on your heels, biting your lip. He looked so good. Your fingers itched to touch all of his scars, on his arms and chest and abdomen and go even lower.

“Why don’t you come with me?” You blurted out.

“We would be in different areas anyway.” He replied. It made sense, usually there were separate spaces for men and women. But that wasn’t enough reason for you, especially not after seeing him in that state. You needed him very badly. At this point, you didn’t even bother to think if the feeling was mutual or if you were making a fool of yourself. You would do anything to ride Shinazugawa’s cock.

“Oh, come on.” Your voice was louder and higher in pitch than you expected. “The building is empty, save the guy at the reception. We’re the only people here.” The idea of getting in the hot water with you left Shinazugawa speechless. He could only imagine what was hiding under that robe and you were giving him the chance to find out.

***

You got in first while he turned around to give you some privacy until your body was covered in the cloudy water. It was great for your tired bodies, soaking in thermal water. But you weren’t here for that. You didn’t even feel the difference in temperature, since your body was already burning with lust.

“Hey, don’t look.” He said, embarrassed, when you gestured for him to come in. You playfully covered your eyes like a child, though peeking between your fingers to see Shinazugawa as he was getting undressed, catching a glimpse of his already hard dick. You quickly moved your fingers to cover your eyes, so he wouldn’t know. But the sight had already done irreversible damage to your mind. He couldn’t help but constantly think about the fact that you were naked under that water. So he tried to keep a decent distance between the two of you, not too big to become awkward but not too small so you couldn’t accidentally touch him and notice his dick was painfully hard. But you would always close the distance between the two of you. You would shift your position all the time, showing him something or pretending you didn’t hear what he was saying. When you moved, the water level would shift with you, revealing more or less of your round breasts, but never all of it.

“It looks so much better.” You said, getting the closest your ever got to him, as you gently touched his arm where you had bandaged it the night before.

“Sleep helps a lot.” He said, aware of the fact that, if you moved one inch closer, you would feel his dick against your belly.

“I tried my best so you wouldn’t get another scar.” You continued in a low, seductive voice that you didn’t know you possessed. Your fingers ran along Shinazugawa’s scarred skin, from his muscular arm up to his shoulder, brushing against his bony clavicle. “You already have so many.” He let out a hot breath as your fingers continued their way on his chest where two long scars crossed each other in an x shape. “But I always thought they’re hot.” Your touch moved even lower, on the scar that was travelling along his abdomen. By now, your hand was already underwater.

“Y/n…” Shinazugawa breathed out your name, almost moaning it. It was torture to him. You could at least say what you wanted from him, straight to his face, without killing him second by second with ghostly touches and promiscuous words. “What are you doing?”

You looked up at him through your lashes, your eyes hungry with lust. It was unbearable for him.

“What do you think I’m doing?” The sarcasm lingering in your languid voice reminded him of all the arguments you usually had. Shinazugawa grabbed you by the chin carefully but firmly enough to force your head back to look up at him. You never thought his rough hands damaged by countless fights with demons could be this gentle.

“I think you’re being desperate.” His lips moved dangerously close to yours, though never touching, as he leaned his face towards yours. “And I’m running out of patience.” His eyes were so demanding that your hand rested just above his navel, not daring to go lower as long as he was forcing you to look at him.

“I could see that.” You mouthed back, obviously referring to his erection.

“Then do something about it.” He muttered between his teeth. You didn’t need anything more. Pressing your body against his, you kissed him roughly and he let you get whatever you wanted for a while. It was almost amusing to Shinazugawa, to see how hungrily your lips pressed against his, how desperate your tongue was to circle with his. The pressure of your flesh against his dick didn’t provide the friction he needed, but it was promising enough. Your hands were all over his body, craving to have no inch left untouched. He grabbed you by the hips, holding you still as you were already standing on your tippy toes to be able to kiss him. Shinazugawa had lost count to how many fantasies he had imagined in his head before, but he was sure he never dared to dream you would be this hungry for him. Your lips soon left his and moved down to leave wet trails on his jaw and along his neck, biting and sucking. You heard him hiss in pain a few times, which only made you even more aroused. Every sound that was coming out of his mouth was so hot, so stimulating that it only made you even more desperate for him.

Shinazugawa let you do as you pleased for a while. After all, it was extremely satisfying to him to have you all over himself. He might have gotten bored though, because one of his hands grabbed you by the hair and forcefully pulled your face away from him. You whined in pain and frustration.

“You’re such a needy whore.” Your lips were swollen and your eyes darkened as you looked back at him. He let go of your hair as he kissed you, arms circled around your waist to keep you as close to him as possible. This time, he was in control and you had no way of regaining dominance as his tongue roughly pushed against your lips, forcing its way inside your mouth. Your breasts were tightly pressed against his chest and you felt the desperate need for friction between your legs. But Shinazugawa’s hands moved down your back, grabbing your ass, fingers digging painfully deep into your flesh. You whimpered against his mouth, but not because of the pain. He had you paralysed now. You couldn’t move your hips against him anymore.

***

You didn’t know how you got out of the water, briefly patted your bodies dry with some towels and put on robes to cover yourselves in case an employee would see you on the hallway. You only remembered Shinazugawa’s tight grip on your hand as he dragged you after him, rushing back to his room. He slammed the sliding door open and allowed you to step in first. You barely let him closed the door, your hands already pulling at his robe that was already undone. He pushed you against the wall, cornering you. There was nowhere to run, his large body covered yours with ease. In a totally unexpected gesture, he brushed his fingers through your damp hair, as if trying to make sure you were really there with him.

You were taken aback by this change in pace and atmosphere. But he hissed in pain and only now did you become aware of the fact that you had been too focused on your own needs, to such an extent that made you forget his body wasn't in such a good condition as your own.

"Shinazugawa?" You called out his name as you gently sat with him on the floor. He snorted at the formal way his surname sounded out of your mouth. The same mouth that was so ready to swallow him whole a few moments ago. "I'm sorry, we can stop if you can't-"

"No!" He quickly dismissed the idea. After years of hidden feelings and wet dreams he was so close to having you. He would not lose the chance.

"But your body is-" You tried brushing the white strands of hair out of his face to see him and your fingers felt the uneven texture of the scar on his forehead.

Shinazugawa didn't bother arguing with you. He simply kissed you again, slower this time, more sensual and intimate. It felt as if the roughness and hunger from before were only the outer layer to something deeper that he wanted to convey to you and you let him have his own pace, although the heat between your legs was aching. He seemed to know that, because he grabbed your hand and guided it down between your legs. You instinctively spread them open, anticipating. Guided by his hand, your fingers slowly rubbed circles against your clit and you moaned against his mouth.

"Touch yourself for me." He said. For a moment, you thought that he meant for you to please yourself because he wasn't able to. But, as he pulled away from you and placed his palms behind him on the wooden floor, leaning back to see you better, you noticed that the brief moment of vulnerability was gone from his eyes. He was demanding, exactly as he sounded. His robe was covering only his arms and shoulders as it fell down at his sides and spilled on the floor, undone, his bared body fully exposed to your eyes. Your eyes took in the sight, with great attention to his throbbing cock that seemed to invite you to touch it. At first, you found it akward and embarrasing, especially feeling the pressure of his eyes watching your every move, eager not to miss one bit of it. But you've done it many times before, you've touched yourself with him on your mind so many times. On top of that, his presence quickly changed from an impediment to a huge turn on. You saw the way he licked his lips as he watched you, flinching at every sound you let out. More than anything you were desperate for his dick that was proudly sticking hard against his lower abdomen like a prize you could get only if you passed this test. So you continued to stimulate yourself.

Shinazugawa was fascinated by you. He was under some kind of spell, eyes focused on your body, taking in every bit of detail. How wet you were becoming, the small mole on your inner left thigh, your exposed neck as your head fell back in pleasure. He touched himself too, placing his palm at the base of his cock, stroking it faintly in order to relieve some of of the tension in his entire body. As much as he couldn't wait to fuck you, something else inside him took even more pleasure from witnessing your filthiest, most sexual self. And you were doing it just for him.

"Say my name. My own name." Shinazugawa's command covered the sound of your mewls. You've done that before as well. Alone, in your room, while everybody slept, you would moan his name as you masturbated. His name, not his surname that you asdressed each other by, the name you couldn't call him by out loud.

"Sanemi." You moaned. You always thought his name was moanable.

"Fuck." He breathed out, as your voice found its way inside his body, driving him closer to orgasm. "Say it again."

"Sanemi." You obliged. With eyes half open you saw him touching himself as well.

"Again." He grunted.

"Sanemi I'm-"

"Don't cum." He warned, figuring out from the way your voice cracked that you were close. You gently hit your head against the wall in frustration, forcing your hand away from your throbbing clit. You were so close. When you looked back at him, he was already sitting on the futon, gesturing for you to come next to him. With shaky legs, you crawled on all fours towards him. He greeted you with another wet kiss, his hand cupping one of your breasts, his thumb running circles around your nipple.

"I want to ride you." You pleaded against his lips.

"Only if you ask nicely." He grinned. Although he was composed and teasing, the way you were so straight forward about your desires made his head spin in exicitement. You gently pushed your palms against his muscular chest and he lightly fell with his back against the futon.

"It wasn't a question." You said as you straddled him.

Shinazugawa watched as you climbed on top of him, biting his lower lip in satisfaction whe he felt your soft plushy tighs press against his hips. He put both his hands under his head, looking at the curves of your body on top of him, at the way your hair was falling over your shoulders, covering only small parts of your breasts. From the first moment he saw you, he felt attracted to your body. But now that he was witnessing it completely naked, in all its beauty, he was sure you had to be a goddess.

He allowed you to do whatever you pleased with him. At first, you only rubbed your folds against his dick lightly, rocking your hips in a slow back and forth motion on top of him. He could feel that you were dripping wet, your juices covering him all over. You placed one hand on his chest for support as you picked up the pace, your cunt finally getting the friction it needed for so long. Shinazugawa moaned in response, stimulated by your movements. The sound was so beautiful to your ears. You were determined to make him more vocal. And you did, as a grunt from deep inside his throat came out when you slowly slided his cock inside your welcoming walls. You took your time, adjusting to his girth. Your eyes were glued to his face, trying to memorize as much of his expression as possible. Lips parted, eyes half closed and cheeks flushed, white hair spilling on the futon like a halo around his head. Your first moves were painfully slow for him. The muscles on his arms were tensed and he seemed like he was putting a lot of effort into keeping his hands to himself and not thursting into you as hard and fast as he needed. But the look of ecstasy on your face as your rolled your hips gradually faster, your breasts bouncing with every move, wet sloppy sounds filling the room in a rapid rhythm and your moans, god especially your loud moans as you used his body to please yourself, all of these were making Shinazugawa feel more than satisfied.

Soon, he had to grab you by the hips because, in your desperation to feel him as deep as possible inside, your movements became chaotic and violent, losing pace and balance. He held you in place, his fingers digging deep into the skin of your hips. Supporting yourself on one arm securely placed on his chest, you managed to find his hand and pushed it back towards your ass. His large hands moved to your back as you guided him, grabbing your ass and pushing your body even more against his cock. The sharp sound of his palm slapping your ass as you bouced up and down his dick echoed in the room, sending a flash of pleasure right to your core and your head fell back in pure pleasure. You moaned loudly, probably the loudest so far, and he felt the consequences of it as your walls tightened around him.

"That's right you're so fucking loud." He said and he slapped your ass again, obtaining the same chain of reactions from you.

Sweat was dripping all over your body and you were running out of breath, but the way his cock felt inside you was addictive. Your hand moved to your clit, feeling like the stimulation wasn't enough to drive you to your orgasm, but Shinazugawa's hand pushed yours away. He laid his palm flat against your belly, pushing against your flesh as his thumb found your clit and provided the additional stimulation you needed. There was a puddle of your fluids forming around the base of his cock, as your hips rose and fell on top of him over and over again. Shinazugawa knew better than spilling his seed inside you. Instead, he concentrated on driving you to your high, noticing how your whole body tightened around him, your muscled tensed and eyes tightly shut, all your senses focused on the way his cock rubbed against your walls hitting your sweet spot over and over and over.

Your moans turned into whimpers and then into uneven breaths as you got closer to the edge. But there was one missing thing to get you there. Intuitively and out of pure erotic instinct, Shinazugawa's hand reached your neck, grabging it between his thumb and index finger, putting enough pressure for you to feel lightly choked. You looked down at him despite your blurry vision, his eyes already locked on yours. You gasped for air while your hips slammed against his uncontrollably. His thumb stimulated your clit and your vision whitened as you finally came, your moan reveberating in the room covering the sound of your bodies. You pressed your hips one last time against his body, taking his lenght as deep as it could go, as you chased every last drop of that numbing pleasure that spread trough every nerve in your body making your legs shake. Your heart was beating at a rapid pace to the brink of failing inside your chest as you removed yourself from him, falling on your back next to him.

With the weight and warmth of your body gone, Shinazugawa took it upon himself to reach his own orgasm. His cock was covered in your juices mixed with precum as he wrapped his fingers around it. He turned to look at you, finding the most arousing sight. Your chest was moving up and down as your lungs filled with air and released it, your brests jiggling slightly with every move. You were covered glistening in sweat, legs still pressed together to find every last bit that was left of that sweet high you had reached. On your hips he could see the marks of his fingers turning purple. But the expression on your face, that was the most rewarding thing for him. Furrowed brows, lips slightly parted, hair sticking to tour temples as you let out soft whimpers. All of this because of his cock. He came quick enough, groaning with his eyes closed, your ravished image still impregnated in his mind.

But it was just the beginning. Although releasing his seed eased some of the tension built up in his body, Shinazugawa was nowhere near done with you. Soon enough you felt his heavy weight over your worn out body and opened your eyes in surprised to look at him, towering over you. His cock was laying on your belly, his balls rounded full with arousal ghosting above your skin.

"I hope you've had your fun." He said, "It's my turn now." The look in his eyes was so animalistic as he spoke, you felt your insides twist in satisfying ache as arousal was building up inside you once again.

You cupped his face with both your hands as you kissed him, hungry for his lips, for his touch, for his throbbing cock again inside you. He groaned against your mouth, one hand finding your breast and grabbing it harshly, the soft plush flesh of it squeezed in his rough hand. You whined in response and then he slapped it, gaining an even louder cry of pain from you. Your legs desperately found his waist and tried to get a hold of them, but he pulled away from you, grabbing you by the thighs and forcing you to turn around on the futon, face down, as he ripped the robe you still had on away from your body. His palm hit your bare ass lightly and you quickly understood the command, rising your hips from the floor and up in the air, supporting your weight on your knees.

"Good girl." He cooed in approval as his hands held you in place.

You were expecting his cock to penetrate you any minute now. Instead, he took his time to take in the view of your waist that curved generously into your hips and ass exposed just for him, as the air of the room felt cold compared to your burning, soaked cunt.

"Sanemi..." You cried out. You couldn't see his face, but the sound your voice whining out his name so pathetically got him even cockier than before and his lips curled in a half grin.

"Hmm?"

"Please..." You felt him so close to you, but not close enough. Your pussy ached for his thick cock but you could't even find some sort of consolation with your ass up, legs unable to come close to each other as his own knees were pushing yours open.

"You're not so bold anymore." You didn't need to see his face, the arrogant tone in his voice said everything you needed to know.

The only thing you could do from that position was push your hips back towards him, in hopes that you'll earn some friction. But his hands stopped you as soon as you moved, holding you in place as he clicked his tongue critically. He leaned over your back, grabbing a fistful of your hair and you felt his cock press against your cunt. It was only a feeble touch but enough to have your eyes roll in stimulation as he pulled you by the hair, forcing you to arch your back.

"If you insist on behaving like a slut I'll treat you like one."

That's exactly what you so desperately wanted and he quickly fulfilled his promise as you felt his dick strech your walls once again. You groaned as he didn't lose any time for you to adjust, instead he just thrust in and out of you with violent and swift movements and you had to place your hands firmly on the futon to resist the force he was pushing into you or else your body would have slipped. But he had full control of your body, one hand on your hips pushing your ass back towards his body as he rammed his dick inside you over and over, the other hand a tight grip on your hair, pulling you towards him. The angle allowed him to hit new and untouched spots inside you, and the stimulation that his aggressive movements provided was numbing all your other senses. You didn't feel the pain in your scalp when he pulled you by the hair, you didn't feel your back aching because of the unnatural way it was bending, you didn't feel the strain on your knees, already overworked from riding him, you didn't feel your arms almost giving up, unable to support your body anymore. You only felt his cock slamming into you, his balls hitting your folds with every move.You could only hear his grunts and pants on top of the wet sound of flesh slapping against flesh relentlessly. Your walls tightened around him as you were slowly getting closer to your second orgasm.

But even though ecstasy was numbing everything else and the only thing you could discern was how good his fat cock felt inside you, your body was bound to break down at some point. And it did, because the hands you used to support the upper half of your body slipped and you fell face down on the pillow. Shinazugawa's reflexes followed suit as his hand let go of your hair and both his muscular arms hugged your waist, holding your body in place while he never stopped pounding into you. Now that he was leaning over your back, arms roughly holding your waist, his face buried in your soft hair, you could clearly hear all the unholy sounds coming out of his mouth close to your ear. He was in pure bliss. Contrary to the wet and sticky state of your bodies and the room that was filled with the smell of sex, your hair still embraced him in a fresh and sweet scent that he had always associated with you. Your fists were grabbing the pillow tightly, toes curling in pure pleasure. You moaned in pain as you felt him sink his teeth into the back of your shoulder, groaning like an animal as his movements became uncontrollable and messy, lacking the rhythm and structure they had before. You desperately forced your hand to move under your belly and up between your legs to help yourself reach your high the second time. Shinazugawa was too far gone, too concentrated on his own plesure and his own instincts to even think about you at this point. He was thrusting inside you brutally, chasing his own orgasm, gutural sounds that resembled an animal more than a human coming out of his throat as his teeth were still sunk into your flesh.

But you came too fast. Because you rushed to touch yourself in addition to his cock stimulating your insides, you reached the second, more violent orgasm. It felt twice as much intense as the first and, if it hadn't been for the pillow that your face was buried into to mute your scream of pleasure, you would have woken up the whole village. Your walls tightened around his cock as you came but he wasn't done yet. Soon, you were overstimulated and crying under him. You couldn't fight back, you couldn't push him away or stop him from fucking your overly sensitive cunt. His whole weight was pushing down on you, his arms holding you immobilized as he used your body as a simple sexual object to get himself off. The pillow soon turned wet with your tears. You didn't even know if he was able to hear your cries over his own grunts.

You knew he was done when he moaned your name as came, his seed spilling on your back. You collapsed alongside him on the futon, his grip around your waist never losening. You felt sore and exhausted and used as you laid on your side with him behind you, hearing his deep breathes as he was starved for air. His arms, still securely wrapped around your waist, pulled you closer as he buried his face in your hair and only now you became aware of how sticky your bodies covered in your mixed juices were. It would be a lie to say you didn't enjoy the sense of safety and calm his warmth gave you. So you remained there, without saying a word, as both of your hearts reached a normal rate and your muscles relaxed, the hazy veil of arousal lifting from both your minds.

"I'm sorry for..." He started but he didn't finish his sentence.

It was fascinating to you how mellow his voice sounded, making it almost impossible to understand that the animalistic sounds from before came out of the same mouth. In response, you gently grabbed one of his hands and brought it to your lips, leaving a soft kiss on his knuckles. The same knuckles that yanked your hair, the same unyielding arm that held your body against your will against him, they were so weak and willing to follow your guidance.

"How...was it?" He sheepishly asked. You giggled while playing with his fingers. For some reason both of you still avoided seeing face to face.

"It was breathtaking." You said and felt him relax behind you, smiling reassured of your praise.

Soon enough your naked bodies started getting cold. He sat up even though you whined in protest like a little child. Only now did you dare to turn around and look at him, standing in the middle of the room completely naked, with his back turned to you. As he moved, your eyes followed his tall figure from the rounded calves to his ass and up his muscular back and wide shoulders, speding a bit too much time on the nape of his neck then fell back along the lines of his defined arms and slender fingers. You bit your lip, enjoying the view a little bit too much. If it hadn't been for the soreness and your already weakened body from slaying a demon a day prior you would have definitely gone for a third time.

"Sanemi?" You called out his name and it felt so natural, so domestic, so right that you wondered how you ever called him by his surname all this time.

"Yeah?" He turned his face to you instinctively, revealing his handsome profile.

"Nothing. I was just practicing." He scrunched his nose at you like a child and turned back, biting his lip because the sound of his name out of your lips still made him somewhat nervous. He came back to you with a bowl of water and some clean cloths that were left untouched when he fixed his bandages before. You were still on your back, finding another spot that stinged with pain every time you tried sitting up.

"No, it's fine I can do it myself." You quickly tried to dismiss him when he sat down next to you, drenching the cloth in water and touching your thigh to get your legs spread. It made you very nervous and somewhat embarrassed, having him clean you up.

"Shh." It was the only sound that left his lips, so gentle and so loving that you had to give up resisting.

He cleaned up your body with care and all you could do was simply stand there and look at him in awe. He helped you sit up, made you turn around, checking if there was anything left when he noticed the blueish marks on your hips. He leaned over your body, placing a soft kiss over the bruised skin like an apology. Your heart skipped a beat and your breath hitched. Butterflies exploded in your stomach and you couldn't take your eyes away from him. He was so handsome, so strikingly beautiful. He seemed to notice that you were staring because he smiled back at you.

"There's another one." You said as you brushed your hair away from your shoulder, turning to the side to show him the marks of his teeth on your skin. You didn't know how it looked but you could feel it swollen and pulsing and you guessed it looked worse than the marks on your hips.

"Ah... I'm sorry for... this." So this is what he wanted to say the first time. As he applied some ointment to your shoulder he couldn't help but notice that sweet flowery scent again.

"Can I ask you something?" He said unsure and you nodded. "I.. I always liked the way you smelled. Is it like a perfume or something?"

"I-I know you like gardenias..." You mumbled sheepishly. It was an old habit that you developed because of him. "I heard Genya talking about it once and I..." He chuckled in response to your voice cracking with embarrassment and you felt your cheeks burning.

"I only like them because they remind me of you."

"We're not very bright, are we?" You said, relieved.

"It is only Tomioka's fault." He rolled his eyes as he grabbed the covers, pulling them over both of your bodies.

"What?"

"If you weren't friends with him maybe you would have been easier to approach." He shrugged.

"Maybe if you wouldn't be so petty and hostile you would have been easier to approach." You spat back. Instead of getting angry like usual, he started laughing. The sound of his honest amused laugh warmed your heart instantly.

"Ah, this really feels like our usual conversations."

***

Tomioka sneezed for the third time in a row. It was beginning to get annoying how his training was interrupted by continuous sneezing. It was probably pollen from the trees.

"Someone must be talking about you." Tanjiro remarked.

╭─────────── ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ───────────╮ ╰─────────── ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ───────────╯

#demon slayer #kimestu no yaiba #sanemi shinaguzawa #sanemi smut #sanemi x reader #shinazugawa sanemi #demon slayer shinazugawa #kny #kny smut #kny sanemi #sanemi x you #sanemi imagines

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wileys-russo · 6 months

Text

spoiled rotten (2) II a.putellas x reader

spoiled rotten sequel, had a buuunch of asks with some more ideas so decided to compile them into a little p2! not proof read cause ya gal is exhausted so apologies for any typos spoiled rotten (2) II a.putellas x reader

"i'm home!" you yelled out, closing the door after you and hearing voices call out from the bedroom as you left your keys and bag on the counter and ventured off to find the source of them.

"oh my..." you trailed off as you rounded the corner and found yourself stood in the doorway of the spare room, eyes widening at the sight in front of you.

"yay you're back!" layla leapt off the floor and raced over, hugging your leg tightly as you ran a hand through her hair but continued to stare with a mix of surprise and horror at the room.

"you've both been...busy?" you exhaled as layla let go of you and returned to alexia's side, dropping to the floor and crossing her legs. "we're building my castle! tia said it can live in here all the time for whenever i come visit." layla chirped as you hummed.

"amor i thought we said we weren't building the castle, or at least you'd call mapi." you caught your girlfriends eye as she held out her hand and your niece slapped a screwdriver into it, a small pile of tools sat beside her making you roll your eyes.

"why? i can do it bebita its fine!" alexia waved you off and you shook your head, judging by the sheer amount of pieces littered around the room and the blondes track record of following instructions you were in for a long night.

"hey lay when did you and tia start building?" you questioned as your girlfriends face paled just slightly. "mmm an hour ago! tia's kinda slow, sorry tia." layla patted alexia's knee sympathetically making you snicker.

"and how much work has been completed in that hour amor?" you questioned with a smile, alexia rolling her eyes and ignoring you. "we put all the pieces out so we could find them!" layla chipped in as alexia sighed and you chuckled.

"lay, babe i'm really sorry but the castle is gonna have to wait. tia alexia is...challenged at building things. but i'll call mapi and she can come over tomorrow to build it." you promised as layla cheered and alexia scoffed.

"challenged!" your girlfriend hurried to her feet and followed you out of the room as you glanced at her with amusement. "yes, that was the nicest way i could think of putting it baby." you grinned, pulling yourself to sit on the edge of the counter.

"i am not challenged!" alexia protested, arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face which made your grin widen. "of course not amor you are perfect, so perfect at everything." you cooed sarcastically, pinching her cheeks and shaking her head lightly.

"but not building." you booped her nose as she swatted your hand away and huffed. "sé construir cosas y construiré ese castillo." your girlfriend warned, slotting between your legs and glaring at you as you simply smiled and pressed your forehead against yours.

"i'll have your mami on speed dial then, so she can bring over some food for me to use to coax you out of the bathroom again." you pouted as alexia scoffed again, opening and closing her mouth.

"no no, don't argue mi amor. we both know it happened!" you cupped her face and pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

"oh dios mio, mierda!" you looked up with a frown at the sound of a thud and another string of heated spanish rattle around your mostly bare apartment.

"ale? estás bien?" you yelled out, getting no answer from your girlfriend as you ventured out of the bedroom to find her, having been unpacking the small mountain of boxes full of clothes into your now shared wardrobe.

"amor?" you called out, snapping your fingers a few times when she didn't react, finally pulling her head out of the instruction manual. "whats wrong?" you chuckled, seeing the obvious frustration embedded into her features.

"there is too many parts!" alexia huffed, slamming the instruction manual to the ground. "baby its a few chairs and a table." you withheld the urge to laugh, sensing she was teetering on the edge as you watched the brunette take a few deep breaths.

you gazed around the room at the multitude of flat pack furniture you'd collected this morning with the van while you had it rented for a few hours, sighing quietly at the sheer amount of work it seemed to be.

you'd begged alexia to let you just pay someone to come over and build everything, the catalan having no issue paying movers to help the pair of you move your lives from two apartments into a brand new home which you'd now share.

but her stubborn refusal to let you do so had meant there was now a very large amount of building needing to be done between the two of you, or more accurately by alexia who was also stubbornly determined to do everything herself.

which is what now had lead to your girlfriend surrounded by a 45 piece tool kit she'd bought only an hour ago, including a power drill that in her hands terrified you.

"está bien nena, lo resolveré." alexia exhaled through her nose, picking the instructions up again and burying her head back into it as you hummed. you leant down to kiss her cheek as you passed, her arm reaching out and patting at thin air, her attention focused on the task at hand.

"bebita! ven aquí, por favor." you'd spent several hours slugged your way through three quarters of the boxes of clothes, humming away to the music playing from your phone when you'd heard her come searching for you, calling out.

"amor? vamos, come please!" alexia appeared in the doorway before you could even blink, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the room ignoring your protests, grip on you unrelenting.

"mira!" alexia gestured proudly and you smiled seeing the dining room table put together, a singular chair pushed beneath it as the others lay discarded and half finished to the side.

"sit sit." the brunette ushered you over and pulled the chair out for you, all but pushing you into it as she hovered by you with an excited grin. "see? i told you i could do it." alexia puffed her chest out proudly.

though you didn't even have a chance to respond, pulling your phone from your pocket where it was digging into your hip and placing it down on the table, a unintentional mistake.

both your eyes widened, yours in shock and your girlfriends in horror as suddenly the legs all caved inward and the table slid completely sideways, a melodious clinking echoing about as a handful of screws scattered the floor.

a squeal left your mouth as then the chair gave in, the back falling off from the base sending you tumbling backwards as alexia lunged to try and break your fall but only managed to cradle your head as the rest of your body crashed to the ground.

you groaned in pain and sat up slowly, rubbing your throbbing tailbone as alexias warm hand disappeared from the back of your neck.

"hey, amor-" you caught the look on her face and tried to quickly reassure her but it was too late. you winced as finally after teetering on the edge all day, the spanish captain snapped.

you winced as a string of angry curse words left her lips, her limbs lashing out to kick chair legs across the room as she shook her fist at the slab of mahogany wood on the floor as if it could hear her, ripping up the instruction manual and hauling the confetti like pieces to the floor and stamping on them.

the burst of rage was short, but effective in destroying all the work she'd clearly put in over the last few hours, which really was for nothing considering she'd clearly skipped over a few key instructions.

you thought she was done when she stood, panting and face bright red, falling silent and staying still for a moment, a thin sheen of sweat coating her body which was only clad in a pair of shorts and a tank top.

"ale-" you started softly, unable to say another word as suddenly she stormed off, the slam and click of the lock of the bathroom door making you jolt a little in shock.

you shot up to your feet as quickly as you could, scrambling to the bathroom and ignoring the throbs of pain plaguing your body. "cariño, open the door please." you knocked softly, only hearing a huff on the other end of the door.

"alexia, please let me in baby." you tried again as a minute passed and you heard no movement, yet another huff and something inaudible mumbled your only response once more.

"amor open the door. its just a table and chairs, we can fix it." you cooed assuringly. "no! déjame en paz." alexia grunted and you could already imagine the scowl which would be embedded into her features, almost able to hear it in her voice.

"ale, open the door you're being silly." you sighed knocking again, silence all you were met with as you pulled a face and yelled silently up at the roof.

"alexia! let me in, please?" you knocked a little harder, a small no grumbled in response as your head thumped against the door. "fine, throw your tantrum then." you rolled your eyes and left her be, pulling your phone out of your room.

you looked around the mess which your living room was, well aware your bed was also laid out in boxes to be built, and made a decision, clicking call and holding your phone to your ear.

"hola hermana que será! how is the new place?" alba sang out cheerfully, answering after only a few rings. "alba, we need help, real help. and hands, many many helping hands! oh and i need your mami, your sister has locked herself in our bathroom." you sighed as there was a pause for a moment.

"vale. i make some calls, find some hands and i will pick up mami and see you very soon amiga! promesa."

"finalizado! a beautiful princess castle for a beautiful little princess." mapi grinned tickling layla who giggled and tried to push her hands away.

"gracais maps." you smiled appreciatively, your niece already racing around the room collecting toys and finding them a home inside her castle, chattering away to them as she did so.

"ingrid! come play." layla waved over the norweigan who moved quickly to sit beside her, layla introducing her to all of her toys as ingrid shook all their hands and said hello making her girlfriend smile fondly.

"ale, say thank you." you grinned teasingly at your girlfriend who stood in the doorway, face like thunder as she only scoffed and stormed out of the room.

"oh amiga i will not be letting her forget this for a very, very long time." mapi sighed happily, tattooed arm draped over your shoulder as the two of you left ingrid and layla to follow alexia out to the living room.

"de nada capi!" mapi called out mockingly as alexia shot her a glare from her place on the sofa, rolling her eyes and burying her focus into her phone.

"woah little racer! we have a speed limit in this house." you snagged layla as she sprinted into the room, hoisting her up and onto her hip. "you know you are my favourite auntie." you raised an eyebrow at her words, her tiny hands settling on your cheeks only furthering your amusement.

"by blood missy i am your only auntie." you laughed, clearly sensing that she was after something. "well you are my favourite." layla grinned as you hummed. "what are you up to hm?" you dug a finger into her ribs making her squeal.

"nothing." she grinned charmingly, a smile which was terrifyingly close to alexia's despite the fact she'd barely been here a week. "oh really?" you questioned as ingrid joined you all, her and mapi watching on in amusement.

"can mapi sleepover? please!" layla begged, hands still on your cheeks as you sighed. "ingrid said it was okay! she said its good because then without mapi around she can have a...a...a self care night!" layla remembered.

"amor!" mapi gasped in mock offence, her girlfriend smiling apologetically and stealing a kiss which seemed to placate the shorter girl beside her.

"can i come too?" alexia glanced to ingrid as you shot her a glare and she merely winked, her sour mood from early seeming to melt away. "pleaseee!" layla begged, hitting you with the pout and puppy dog eyes combo.

"yeah amiga, pleaseee!" mapi suddenly appeared in front of you with a matching expression making you roll your eyes. "fine." you gave in with a sigh, putting your niece down who hugged your leg tightly chanting thank you's as you rolled your eyes but smiled.

"come on pollito, lets go get my bag from the car!" mapi grabbed the smaller girl and hoisted her up onto her shoulders with a cheer. "wait you packed a bag? this was pre-planned wasn't it?" you accused your friend and team mate who smiled innocently.

"call it a thank you gift for my free carpentry skills chica." mapi winked, ducking down so layla wouldn't hit her head as she opened your front door.

"whats a pollito?" layla frowned in confusion at the earlier nickname. "it means little chicken." mapi explained as your niece ohh'd and they started to head for the elevator.

"hey i'm not a chicken!"

"remind me again mi amor why did you say yes to this?" alexia sighed quietly from behind you, the two of you squished together on the sofa as you watched mapi and layla dance around the living room watching the lion king.

"i didn't see you stepping in to say no! what happened to trying to be the bad cop every now and then?" you turned to gaze up at her with a raised eyebrow. "i didn't make her pancakes for breakfast?" alexia tried with a smile, pecking your lips a few times.

"wow how does she not hate you when you are so strict?" you teased, thumb affectionately tracing the curve of her jaw as she playfully rolled her eyes.

your conversation was interrupted as a small body landed on top of you causing you to grunt, layla hovering over you with a grin. "hola!" she chirped, alexia smiling at the spanish and returning the greeting, mapi disappearing to use the toilet.

"can we do makeovers? pleaseee?" she begged, hands clasped together as your eyes flickered to alexia, your girlfriend conviniently stayinfg quiet.

"of course you can! my skin is very sensitive though babe, but i'm sure your tia would love a makeover! right amor?" you grinned as alexia opened and closed her mouth a few times and layla hit her with the puppy dog eyes.

"sí pequeña, i would like a makeover."

with your girlfriend and her best friend occupying layla with their faces as her canvases you slipped off to shower and wash your hair, your girlfriend very unimpressed at not being able to join you like she normally would.

"oh wow! qué bellas señoritas." you whistled with a wolfish grin at the makeup smeared all over both the footballers faces as you returned, drying your hair with a towel.

"smile chicas!" you called out snapping your fingers, mapi grinning and slinging an arm over alexia who glared at the camera, layla squished between them with a beaming smile as you snapped a few pictures.

"now layla i think you need to do their hair and their nails!"

"they're both dead to the world." you chuckled as you quietly closed your own bedroom door, padding over to the bed where alexia lay waiting, arms open ready for you to climb into them.

"dead to the world?" alexia frowned, not quite understanding the euphemism. "just means they're deep asleep amor." you smiled, slipping into bed as she hummed, grabbing at your top and tugging you into her arms.

"mm i think you should have kept the makeup on." you teased as alexia puffed air from her nose. "sí gracias for that bebita." alexia rolled her eyes as you grinned and pressed your lips to hers.

"maybe the makeup might have helped you build that castle." you continued to tease as alexia pulled away when you chased her lips, quirking an eyebrow at you.

"ale!" you laughed as the taller girl suddenly rolled on top of you, pinning your hands by your head with a smirk. "oh princesa you seem to have forgotten again how i am very good with my hands." alexia purred, lips ghosting yours.

"necesita un recordatorio?" your girlfriends teeth tugged at your earlobe as your eyes fluttered close, her lips sucking a mark into your skin, smiling as your hips bucked against her involuntarily.

though right as the blondes large hand trailed down your stomach, fingers toying with the waistband of your shorts, the bedroom door flew open and the two of you sprang apart.

hurrying to tug your shirt down as alexia cleared her throat and scooted as far away from you as she could get without falling from the bed.

"lay? are you okay?" you asked your niece, trying to seem as normal as possible. "mapi snores. can i sleep here please?" the five year old asked hopefully as you sighed.

"okay lala, up you come then."

"what? she looks so cute!" alexia grinned happily as you sighed again, shaking your head as layla walked ahead of the two of you, mapi and ingrid each holding one of her hands as they swung her in between them, the five of you headed to the beach for the day.

"she looks like she's a teenager!" you laughed with a shake of your head, alexia having been in charge of dressing layla this morning had kitted her out in just a few of the multitude of items she'd bought her on their little secret shopping trip the other day.

"kids can wear whatever they want amor." alexia kissed your cheek and you shoved her away as her hand discreetly palmed at your ass.

"behave putellas." you warned with a tut as she grinned. "i have been princesa, but in a few more days when it is just you and i again, i promise to stop behaving." she whispered, kissing your now flushed cheek and effortlessly scooping you up as you reached the sand.

"alexia!" you laughed as she carried you bridal style down the beach toward where mapi and ingrid had already set up. "my turn!" layla lit up as you reached the group and your girlfriend put you back down again.

"oh your turn hm pequeña?" alexia hummed, quickly pulling off her shorts and top, layla's giggles filling the air as your girlfriend picked her up and held her not unlike you'd cradle a baby.

"oye maría! you want to go fishing for sharks? i found some bait." alexia grinned shaking layla lightly who gasped. "oh sí! i have heard they like live bait the best." mapi teased as layla began to wiggle to try and get down.

"vamos little shark bait!" alexia grinned, sprinting off toward the water as mapi raced off after them, you and ingrid opting to work on your tans leaving your girlfriends to burn off their energy as they took turns tossing layla between them as you watched on with a smile at her laughter which carried back to you.

"ale seems very happy." you turned your head to find ingrid smiling at you, eyes covered by sunglasses but you didn't need to see them to know there would be a knowing look in them.

"you both seem very happy." ingrid added on, wiggling her eyebrows as you shook your head and laid back down, looking up to the sky. "come on! you have been together for awhile." ingrid continued to hint.

"we have been talking about it." you gave in somewhat as ingrid gasped. "if ale makes mapi the godmother does that make me a godmother too? or a tia?" ingrid rambled out making you laugh.

"relax! we have been talking about it ingrid, i'm not pregnant yet." you chuckled as the norweigan gasped again. "so you're going to carry? oh this is so exciting. have you thought about names? a preferred gender? would it be a putellas or after you? or maybe both?" your friend barely took a breath, only stopping when you threw a sandal at her.

"mapi has been a bad influence on you with all of her yapping." you shook your head now making ingrid laugh as she apologised and laid back down, seemingly dropping the topic as a pleasant silence fell between you.

you had nearly dozed off when suddenly your body temperature changed as layla jumped on top of you, shaking her head left to right as droplets of icy water rained down on you.

"oh thats funny is it lala?" you sat up and dug your fingers into her sides, holding her in your arms as she giggled and begged you let her go. "tia save me!" layla yelled as alexia and mapi returned from the water, chatting in spanish between one another with wide grins.

"alexia no don't you-" you let your niece go and began to warn your girlfriend, recognising the cheeky smile on her face as before the next word could drop from your lips you were tugged up and thrown over her shoulder.

"hey lay, should we dig a hole and bury mapi?" the five year old agreed eagerly as ingrid started to help her dig, mapi shrugging and joining in, the three of them chattering away and ignoring your cries for help.

"baby no no no please i washed my hair last night!" you begged as alexia started off toward the water, her hand patting your ass. "good thing you can wash it again tonight then precioso." your girlfriend waded into the water up to her hips before tossing you in to join her.

"hola sexy!” she was on you the very moment you surfaced, hands gripping your thighs and hoisting you up, legs wrapped around her torso as she walked the two of you out a little deeper, silencing your mumbles of annoyance with a few sweet pecks to your lips.

"i hate you." you huffed as she only grinned, holding onto you tighter as you tried to push away from her to swim back to shore. "menos mal que te quiero lo suficiente para los dos." the catalan promised sending a slight blush to your cheeks.

"baby were you serious when you said you wanted to talk about kids once lay goes home?" you questioned, hands playing with her wet hair as the older girl nodded. "i was. does this make you uncomfortable mi amor?" alexia frowned as you were quick to shake your head.

"no, it makes me excited." you admitted with a soft smile causing alexias features to brighten. "sí?" she grinned, pulling you even closer if that was possible, pressing her forehead against yours as you nodded.

"maybe once layla is in bed tonight we could maybe look up some doctors? see who to speak to." alexia suggested hopefully as you nodded in agreement. "sounds perfect baby, so perfect." you promised, tilting your head and pressing your lips to hers.

"but cariño when we have our own little bebita we need to get a bedroom door that locks." alexia huffed as you threw your head back with laughter and she let you down, pulling you into a hug as her lips brushed against the crown of your head.

you looked up from your book hearing keys jingle in the lock, snapping it shut right as the door opened and footsteps thudded toward you.

"vale! layla remember what we talked about in the car sí?" you heard your girlfriend yell, voice wavering with just a touch of panic as you started to sit up, your niece appearing and readying herself to launch at you.

"hey! tia." the now six and a half year old groaned as alexia raced in and grabbed her backpack, effectively holding her hostage making you smile. "we said gentle lala, gentle." alexia reminded sternly as you met her worried eyes, nodding softly.

"because she has a tummy ache, i know!" layla rolled her eyes and crossed her arms with a huff. "its okay amor, let her go." you promised, a flicker of doubt crossing alexia's face before she did so.

"hi trouble." you knelt down as your niece crashed into you, hugging you tightly and kissing your cheek. "i missed you. why didn't you come home for christmas?" layla frowned as you gave her a sympathetic smile.

"well you know how tia alexia and i are dating, yes?" you pulled her to sit on the lounge with you, helping her to shrug off her backpack as she curled into your side.

"yeah mummy said alexia is your girlfriend and the two of you love each other very much." layla parroted making you smiled. "we do. and you know how your mummy is my big sister, and grandma is my mum?" you questioned as layla nodded.

"well tia alexia has a mum and a sister too, she has a big family. and because i love her, i love her family just as much as my family. so i spent christmas with alexia's family this year, thats why i didn't come home." you explained as the girl nodded, slight frown of concentration on her face.

"better stop that, or else the wind might change and you'll be stuck like that forever!" you teased smoothing out your eyebrows with your fingers as your girlfriend returned, eyes roaming your body protectively for any sign of discomfort as you sent her a reassuring smile and patted the space next to you.

but before she could take a seat there was a few more knocks at the door and layla perked up. "mapi! ingrid!" she cheered recognizing their voices, jumping down and sprinting off as you pushed yourself up and to your feet.

"oh look, it lives!" mapi cheered, throwing her hands to the air as you rolled your eyes and the tattooed defender pulled you into a tight hug. "we were really beginning to worry, you have not been training or playing for nearly two weeks now. that is a very serious bug!" ingrid looked over you with concern.

"i know, but i'm on the other end of it now. i missed everyone though! only stuck here with captain grumpy for company." you sighed as you let go of ingrid, your girlfriend scoffing in offence where she stood with layla on her hip despite the fact she was definitely starting to get a little old for that.

"don't do that tia, if the wind changes your face will be stuck forever!" layla was quick to smooth out alexias's furrowed eyebrows just like you had done for her before making you chuckle.

"vamos amigas, we made lunch."

"not yet! wait just a second." you warned your niece as alexia handed her a shoe box, doing the same to mapi and ingrid who frowned in confusion, their questions waved away.

alexia's arm wrapped around your waist as she kissed the side of your head and you smiled.

"okay, open." you both spoke in sync sharing a grin, your head dropping to your girlfriends shoulder as her strong arm squeezed you excitedly.

all three girls pulled out barcelona home kits, layla's a kids one as mapi and ingrid frowned. "look amiga i know you have won a lot of trophies but i do not need your shirt to-" mapi directed the comment toward your girlfriend who rolled her eyes.

"cállate y dale la vuelta." alexia gestured for them to turn the jerseys over, all three pairs of eyes widening as mapi's jaw hung slack. "big cousin 2025." layla managed to read out the back of hers, still not quite understanding.

"godparents 2025." ingrid managed out, her and mapi shocked to silence as you and alexia grinned. "so you are-and that is why you haven't been-ohh." mapi sighed in realization as ingrid nodded slowly.

your friends were rapidly up on their feet and crushing you both in a hug, alexia hurriedly warning them against squeezing you too tight as mapi teased her for how overprotective she was being.

"does anyone else know? are we the first?" mapi asked excitedly making alexia roll her eyes with a smile. "our parents know, but thats it. we're going to tell the rest of our families in a couple of weeks once we've had the final scans done." you explained, alexia stealing a kiss as her hand fell proudly to your stomach.

"lay i'm pregnant." you confirmed as your niece still looked a little confused, smiling up happily at alexia as layla screamed and all four of you winced. "there's a baby in here? can i name it? can it come have sleepovers?" layla's body vibrated with energy as she stood before you staring at your stomach in wonder.

"yeah lala, a little cousin for you and a little baby for tia ale and i, a baby all of our own."

#woso #woso community #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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