#will should have had more fun moments of being dragged hissing and biting into hanging out with his three extrovert friends

[cryinonthebusdyinlittlewuss]

Sometimes a friend group is just three smart dumbasses and their possessed rat they found in a on fire garbage can

[sukirichi]

personal disaster

Toji took the personal invitation to be your personal disaster.

REQUEST. toxic toji + enemies to greater enemies + toji railing reader in front of someone they’re seeing because he doesn’t want to see you happy but he doesn’t want to “keep” you either

PAIRINGS. toxic toji x reader x mafia! leader noritoshi kamo (he’s just witnessing the fun, dw)

CONTENT/WARNINGS: rough sex, slight bloodplay, violence, toxic toji, toxic and abusive relationships, choking, begging kink (you’ll be surprised in what way), degradation, mass murder, mentions of blood, cuckolding, overstimulation, reader is kind of crazy, hate fucking, neck slicing, IT’S DARK okay? unedited too, sorry for typos and grammatical errors 

WC: 3.5k+

masterlist !

Your arm looped with your fiancé’s, his possessive arm wrapped around your waist. He glared at everyone who stared at you with a lust filled gaze, his cold eyes alone enough to send his people staring at the ground with a tug of their jackets to hide their erection. You almost felt bad for them, knowing that they always saw how your pussy took Noritoshi’s cock so well, but that was it.

They could only see but never had a taste of the specimen you were because you were the mafia leader’s fiancé, soon to be the Queen of his empire while you sat pretty next to him, getting richer and richer with each passing second before you fulfilled your duty and birthed him an heir.

Noritoshi wasn’t in a rush, though. He was a man of sensual pleasure, wanting to take his time with you and getting to know you, and take his time he did.

There was not a day that he didn’t have you moaning under his silk sheets, wrists already chafed from the handcuffs he insisted on using you, simply because he was a man who liked to exert dominance and craved being in power. You never denied him – how could you when all you had to do was spread your legs and you got that coin?

You were beyond a slut for him, however, and this much was clear when Noritoshi announced that you were his and his only.

When even that didn’t deter the curious hands of his people from pumping their cocks at the thought of you, Noritoshi have had enough. He roughly slammed his lips to yours before he melted at the sweetness of your lips, soon turning gentle before he slipped a ring inside your finger to make it official.

Noritoshi, dramatic as ever, wanted everyone to know about this engagement as loudly as he could without opening his mouth.

Your fiancé had a flare for the theatrics, which was why he didn’t blink an eye as he got you an expensive designer dress, hand-stitched, and flaunting you around – flaunting his soon to be wife hanging off of his arm proudly.

He guided you into his limousine until you reached a night sky nightclub that was notorious for its luxury. Not even the richest people belonging in the top tier of society could afford a single ticket, much less a private room. Noritoshi made the right choice by walking with you down the hallways, the walls transitioning from a glossy black to a velvet tint, leading into one of the VIP rooms that was already surrounded by his guards.

The whole way there, Noritoshi didn’t loosen his grip on you, making sure his hand was cupping your ass to flash your ring and his.

Several envious gazes and curious ones later, followed by hushed whispers before the pair of you disappeared behind the double doors, Noritoshi loosened up in his seat, satisfied that he’d marked his territory successfully.

Noritoshi uncapped a bottle of fine whiskey served by a shivering waiter, while you sat next to him, legs crossed enough that the poor blushing waiter flushed at the sight of your bare cunt.

You checked your nails, smirking at the velvet black acrylics Noritoshi was generous enough to let you borrow his black card for. The dress you wore was infinitely superb too, the bust firm enough to push your breasts high enough that the outline of your cleavage was just a step away from exposing your nipples – a tease, as always – just as how Noritoshi wanted.

He was like that; always dangling the treasure right in front of people’s mouths as they salivated in hunger, then bringing it back to his grasp just before they took a bite.

How Noritoshi, you thought.

Out of nowhere, muffled gunshots could be heard from the outside, your eyes cat-like as they glared at the door, waiting for people to burst through. Not a second later, one of your guards rudely invited himself in, pushing the curtain that hid a secret exit as he started babbling nonsense about a madman or something.

“What’s wrong?” Noritoshi asked calmly over his glass, swirling the glass with a satisfying clink. “What’s all the commotion about?”

“Sir, you need to leave! There’s an assassin here and he’s easily taking our men down!”

“Assassin?” he scoffed with a pinch of his brow. “What do you mean assassin? This is a private nightclub �� isn’t our security tough?”

“Yes, sir, but he’s easily overpowering us—”

“This assassin you speak of,” you stopped inspecting your nails, placing them over your knee instead. A smirk painted your bold red lips when the guard’s eyes trailed downwards to your shaven cunt, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the sight before he turned away, stiffening harder once he met Noritoshi’s glare. “Is he tall, dark, has a scar running down in his lip and has a crazy look in his eye?”

“Y-yes, that’s exactly him.”

“Do you know who he is, darling?”

You scrunched your noise, uncrossing your legs out of poor mercy to this man. He looked like he’d faint soon – seriously, didn’t Noritoshi have enough sluts for his men to fuck? “An old friend of mine, although I could hardly call him that when he took everything from me,” eyes darkening at the memory of him, you pushed yourself off the velvet cushions of the couch, swiping at the gun strapped to your thigh. “You should leave, Toshi. I’ll handle him.”

“You’ll handle him? It’s unsafe – we need to leave—”

Sigh, he always worried too much over you. It was so easy for him to forget you lived an equally dark life prior meeting him, so you pressed your lips against his, making sure to mark the edges red to remind him he had nothing to worry about. As always, it shut Noritoshi up, his hands coming up to caress at your ass.  

“He won’t hurt me,” you assured, palms laid flat on his chest. “Now go.”

Noritoshi wasn’t given a chance when you nodded at his guard, who got the message and dragged his boss away rather harshly behind the curtain. Smirking, you made your way outside, adrenaline rushing through your veins and heat seeping into your core. This night just got a lot more interesting.

Your fun was spoiled, however, when you were met with blood stained walls and limbs torn everywhere. A sneer made its way to your face, not because you were disgusted by the sight, but because he was still as boring and upfront as ever.

He never let you had your fun.

“Toji,” you greeted the tall man sitting on top of the pile of bodies, brows raised because it’s been a long time and he still hadn’t changed. He still wore the exact same fitted black shirt that looked like it would rip into pieces at each of his movements, which to your surprise, never did. “Still as messy as ever, huh?” you clicked your tongue, bunching your dress up with your fists as you stepped over the bodies, making sure not to slip from the sea of blood. “Jeez. You’re not even the least bit concerned about the cleaners.”

“Sweetheart,” he crooned, mirroring your smug expression as he jumped down his throne of corpses, roughly tilting your chin up so you could look him in the eye.

Even with high heels, Toji effortlessly towered over you, reminding you again and again of the strength difference. Though you held your ground pretty well, and he knew this too, otherwise he wouldn’t have struggled so much in his mercenary work the moment you came.

“It’s so nice to see you again – or is that what you wanted me to say?” Your lips stretched for a sinister laugh, Toji beating you to it when his strong hands came to wrap around your neck, slamming you on the wall hard enough he blurred in your vision for a moment. You kept chuckling through the lack of air, tongue darting out to lick the blood of his knuckles. Toji growled, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you’ve done to me, bitch. You ruined my pretty face with those nails of yours.”

“Can’t blame a woman, Toji, you weren’t letting me cum.”

“To be fair, you were leaving me after you killed all my clients when I kindly asked you to keep your hands to yourself,” Toji sneered, head darting down to rip the diamond necklace Noritoshi got you onto the ground. You whined upon seeing the crystals scatter onto the floor, millions worth now dipped in blood. What a fucking shame. “But you’ve always been a naughty little minx, aren’t you? You just can’t keep your hands off of beautiful men.”

“Trust me, Toji, what’s inside their pockets are a lot prettier than faces,” you giggled as your hand came up to trace the scar on his lips, eyes narrowed into appreciative slits. “Nothing would ever be prettier than this.”

“Is it still a face you want to sit on?”

“Fuck, yes,” you admitted, pushing yourself off the wall to wrap your legs around him.

The momentum took Toji by surprise, forgetting that you were just as strong as him as he staggered two steps backwards. His grip tightened on your hip to steady you both, the sharp blade of his weapon poking against your thigh threateningly.

It didn’t bother you, and you only nuzzled your nose against his almost affectionately, staring him in the eyes as you mumbled, “I fucking missed you.”

“Then why did you leave?” he grunted while grinding you down on his cock, hissing for a split second when your killer heels dug into his lower back. He could feel blood leaking from how the shoe pierced him, but he made no move to push you away, enticing you to kiss the corners of his lips to worship his scar. He was so beautiful, sinfully gorgeous that you always lost your mind around him.

He was your end, your ruin, your destruction – and you left in a poor attempt to keep your heart safe.

“How long has it been since I had my hands on you, huh, pretty thing? Six months, maybe more? Time gets so blurry when I’m not buried in your tight cunt,” Toji buried his nose in the crook of your neck, using the blade of his sword to tear your dress open, leaving your lower half revealed to him.

“Oh, you asshole, that was expensive!”

“Don’t give a fuck, baby,” he rolled his eyes, and of course he didn’t. Toji wasn’t any better than you; both your minds were always clouded and hazy with sex. “You smell different. Got another man?”

“Hmm, and he’s much better than you are,” Your words ticked Toji off, knowing full well he always hated it whenever you poked at his ego. Toji was a man of many things, and every time you implied that he wasn’t something, you could expect that he would fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to feel your legs for days. Now that was exactly what you wanted, so you kept going, your nails travelling under his shirt to leave more scratches at his already ruined back – all thanks to you. “He’s rich, classy, handsome, praises me instead of calls me a little slut—”

“Aren’t you?”

“I am,” you agreed shamelessly with a sultry laugh, looking back at him with a devious glint in your eye. “But I like being worshipped every now and then.”

“Haven’t I done that enough? You talk as if I never made you feel good.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, nothing can still compare to your cock, Toji,” Your other hand shoved itself down his pants to feel him, soft pants leaving those pretty mouth of yours when felt his cock bare, the tip already wet with pre-cum.

Of fucking course Toji executed his missions on commando mode – he couldn’t be bothered to keep his fat cock imprisoned.

“But he’s richer. And he’s willing to marry me, breed me until I’m swollen with his children and pamper me afterwards. He’s willing to make me his.”

“You fucking slut,” Toji shoved his tongue inside your mouth, the moans spilling from your lips to his only encouraging him to align his huge length onto your already dripping cunt – always so wet and ready to be filled by him – before he slammed you all the way down. The sudden stretch had you biting on his tongue to muffle your moan, Toji’s hands bruising as he cupped your ass. Toji clenched his jaw upon feeling your walls embrace him warmly, his breaths ragged and faint.

It made your chest swell with pride at the thought that only you could make the infamous Fushiguro Toji this disarranged.

“What is it with you sticking to alpha males all the fucking time?”

“A princess wants her throne beside a handsome prince, Toji. Just because your family didn’t like you, doesn’t mean mine did too. I grew up being told fairy tales while you ran rampant in the streets,” you bit back, the sinister laugh painting the blood red walls dark because you knew Toji better than anyone, and one of the things that always set him off like a bomb was the mention of his abusive family.

You couldn’t wait to see how he would ruin you, and you moaned loudly when Toji grabbed your jaw until your cheeks were squished, the cold of his blade held against your throat sending a shiver down your spine.

“Are you the slightest bit aware of how much I want to kill you right now? Slice your lovely neck and fuck you while you suffocate in your own blood?” You gasped as you felt warm liquid slowly bleed out from the slightest cut, your blood sliding down your chest and under the leftover materials of your dress. Toji used his bare hands to rip the dress apart, your tits bouncing the moment they were freed from its confines.

The guttural groan that echoed from his throat was pure animalistic, similar to the carnal thrusts of his dick that pummelled into you. He pushed you flat on your back until your skin pricked with the shards of glass on the bar countertops, the pain only adding to your pleasure.

Toji kept you locked underneath his arm, his hands choking the air out of you while you clenched around him repeatedly, your walls sucking him in tight enough that Toji lost rhythm in his thrusts. “Only you would like that, Toji,” you choked out in a broken gasp, the man above you growling when you picked up a broken wine glass to push his hands off of you.

Blood coated both your bodies as Toji drove his dick deeper, hitting all the spots that only he could ever reach.

“I’m a man of rare taste.”

“So fucking rare,” you teased. Toji’s middle finger and thumb met once they wrapped around your neck, pulling you off the table to bounce you on his cock, using only his masculine virility and raw strength to fuck you good.

The sudden change of position had the tip of his cock pressing into your most sensitive spots, Toji’s angry grunts sinful yet so erotic as your bumpy walls kissed the veins of his cock.

Toji suddenly wrapped an arm under your breasts, flipping you over until you were met by the sight of Noritoshi standing still outside his VIP room, his gun aimed at the both of you. “Uh-uh – I wouldn’t do that if I were you, pretty boy,” he warned, his words taking a huge hit on Noritoshi when his arm wavered. “One cut is all I need and your lovely fiancé’s body would be swimming in her own blood. Now, you wouldn’t want to waste such a beauty, right?”

“Y/N!” he suddenly dropped his gun, hands raised in surrender beside his head. If Toji wasn’t driving his dick like a fucking animal, you would’ve broken Noritoshi’s nose, ashamed that he surrendered so easily. Noritoshi’s dark eyes turned to Toji’s, heat seeping off of him in waves. “I will never forgive you for what you’re doing!”

“Wasn’t asking for forgiveness, shorty,” Toji pressed, using two fingers to split your lips open, giving Noritoshi the show of his life as Toji’s fat cock stretched you open completely, your puffy lips wrapped around his swollen length.

You knew you looked so dirty right now, skin covered in blood, wearing nothing but your black heels that accentuated your legs while Toji split your body in half.

A strangled moan was pulled from you when Toji hitched one of your legs, his arm hooked behind your knee, completely exposing yourself to Noritoshi. Even though you couldn’t see yourself, the squelching of your pussy taking in Toji’s cream filled dick was so pornographic you couldn’t help the heightening of your arousal, breasts bouncing as Toji kept up his relentless pounding.

“Come on, sweetheart, let him see how much I’m stretching you out. Watch as she loses herself around my fact cock like the fucking whore she is,” Toji laughed, silencing your incoherent fucked out mumbled by shoving a thumb through your lips, smearing your lipstick to the side as if you weren’t a mess already.  “Oh, look at his face. You don’t mean to tell me he doesn’t know how filthy you are, huh, sweetheart?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“What the fuck did you say to me?” Toji slapped your ass, your walls clenching around him on instinct. Noritoshi’s eyes widened when you only moaned in response, the blissful smile on his ace rendering him silent. “Not so threatening now, huh, Kamo?” Toji leered, snickering at the apparent tent growing in your fiance’s pants.

It was absolutely sickening that he got off at the sight of his pretty little fiancé be used by some other man, but Toji respected all kinks, even if he didn’t have much respect for Noritoshi to begin with.

“Come on, sweetheart. Scream for me. Say my fucking name like you always used to. Let’s show this pretty boy here how awful you are before he regrets being with you,” Toji snapped his hips harder into you, causing you to see stars that mixed with the sight of Noritoshi falling onto his knees, your name a plead for his lips.

Toji’s cock only twitched at the sight of seeing someone so helpless, to see the infamous powerful Kamo leader beg for Toji to save you and let you go.

He always knew he had a begging kink, but he didn’t think it would come in this form.

“T-Toshi—” you moaned out, eyes snapped shut. You couldn’t think anymore, the only sounds filling your ears were Noritoshi’s cries and Toji’s ragged pants in your ear, his hand pressing down on the apparent bulge of your lower stomach every time he bottomed out.

“I said, say my fucking name.”

“Toji, Toji, fuck!” you leaned backwards and placed your head on his shoulder while he grabbed your hair to kiss you, that familiar heat beginning to form in your core. Unable to help it, your moans fell left and right, loud enough that it drowned out Noritoshi’s pleads. Toji laughed at both of you – called you the dumbest lovers alive – so he kissed you, more tongue and teeth than lips, his thrusts sloppy and desperate. “Oh, oh fuck, yes, yes, right there, oh!”

“You can never fuck her like I do. You can never make her feel good like I do. See how she’s moaning so pretty for me? You can never have her.”

“You’re so fucking unfair,” you cried out, hands tugging at his hair. Toji never let up for even a moment as his thrusts slowed; the new pace he set slow yet deep. Toji pulled out his cock slowly to make you feel him inch by inch, your walls licking at his cock vein by vein until only the tip was left inside, before thrusting full into you in one swift movement of his hips. “You can’t just break up with me and – fuck – tell me I can’t be with others.”

“I own you, sweetheart – I’m your personal disaster,” Toji taunted, large hands groping at your breast when your eyes snapped open, his last final thrusts turning your pussy to mush.

You came around him, hard and overwhelmingly so. Your hands wrapped around his bicep to steady your shaking legs, his name spoken like a prayer with malicious tone as if to curse him. Toji pushed you off his cock until you fell on the floor, his rough hands grabbing at your jaw again to face him, thick spurts of his cum painting your face.

Taking them all in like a good girl, Toji swiped his length over the slope of your nose and pushed the still hard cock through your lips. His hands gripped your head tight as he fucked into your mouth, nothing but anger shown through that scarred face while your jaw fell slack and sore.

“And I’ll break you over and over again until you’re reminded that you’re mine.”

[daenqyu]

— doing their eyeliner at 12AM

includes: bakugou, kaminari, kirishima, and hawks

warnings: suggestive (LOTS of making out)

a/n: did i write this just because i love doing my eyeliner and i really want to sit on a guy’s lap while i do his???? maybe. but that’s none of your business 🙄☝️

bakugou katsuki

it’s canon that he wears eyeliner and even if it wasn’t,,, he’d still try it at least ONCE

in this case you had to ask him

well more like beg him 

“babe please, i promise i’ll make a good work!” 

“how? you suck at doing yours”

you scoff before punching his arm, making him let out a hiss as he glares at you

“i don’t you idiot, now can you shut up and stay still for a second?”

of course he ends up giving in bc come on, he’d do anything just to make you happy and if that meant letting you put makeup on him at 12AM because you thought he’d look ‘pretty’ then so be it

bakugou doesn’t voice out any of this though 

instead, he keeps complaining and even tickles your sides from time to time just to get on your nerves

“bakugou,” he frowns when his last name falls from your lips, not liking how it sounded at all. “stop fucking moving or i’ll stap your eye.”

“tch, stop telling me what to do, dumbass.”

but he does stop

after all, he didn’t really want you to get mad at him

he entertains himself by tapping his fingers against your thighs to the beat of the music playing from your speaker 

his touch makes butterflies flutter in your stomach, but you ignore them and continue to draw on his eyelids 

you decide to keep it simple; just a very defined line that’s not too thick, but enough so that it’s visible 

“okay, i’m done”

after you put the eyeliner down and notice bakugou’s eyes were focused on you, you completely forget how to breathe

the black makes his vermilion eyes look even brighter and in contrast with his blonde hair...he simply looks beautiful 

he takes your silence as a bad sign and thinks you probably did fuck up, but when he looks at himself in his phone camera, the makeup looks fine to him so,

why the heck weren’t you saying anything?

“what is it? do you not like it?”

didn’t like it? couldn’t he see you were practically salivating bc of him?

“uh no, you look really good actually,” you look away before continuing, not trusting yourself to look at him while you said the next words. “you look pretty”

bakugou is a little surprised by the compliment, but he wastes no time before teasing you

he leans in, and once he’s close enough, he takes your chin so you’re looking directly at him

a smirk takes over his lips when your eyes avoid his

“what’s got you so shy?” he teases

“i’m not”

“then look at me” 

you didn’t want him to know how big of an effect he had on you, so you turn your head around and face him, even tho you’re flustered beyond belief

his eyes slowly look down at your lips and then back to your eyes, making you a little anxious as to what could happen, but bakugou decides to drags it out

just to have some fun of his own

he places one of his hands on the back of your neck, gently pulling you forward until your noses are almost touching 

the other one caresses your cheek softly, then his fingers slowly trace out your jaw, eyes still stuck on your own 

it’s infuriating really

the way his fingers carefully touch your lips, applying a bit more pressure on his thumb that’s touching your lower lip so he can open your mouth ever so slightly 

the way he acts as if he has all the time in the world, as if he could do this all day

and you know he can

but you don’t 

so you lean in to close the distance with a deep kiss

it’s messy and sloppy; his tongue clashing with your own as his hands roam all over your body to feel you

you end up sitting on his lap, lips still connected and hands all over each other

you pull away, chest heaving as rough breaths leave your mouth and smirk when you notice bakugou is looking at you 

his hair is messy thanks to your gripping and the eyeliner fits him so nicely

for a moment you almost can’t believe he’s your boyfriend 

“have i ever told you how handsome i think you are?” you ask him with a goofy smile on your face, fingers playing with the ends of his hair

“hm, once or twice but you can always remind me again” 

“let me just show you”

he quirks an eyebrow at your implication, licking his lips as his eyes darken

“oh? bold, aren’t we now?”

“learned from the best”

“fuck yeah you did”

to keep it short, you guys didn’t sleep a lot that night ���‍♀️🏃‍♀️

kaminari denki

he was DEFINITELY the one that came up with the idea

something just tells me he probably spends 90% of his time scrolling through tiktok 

and if he feels like it, maybe he’ll even posts some of his own

so it’s no surprise that he’s caught up with all the trends and challenges

and even dances (which surprisingly, he’s damn good at)

i’m guessing you guys already know what i’m trying to get at

he had seen way too many tiktoks of couples doing their partner’s eyeliner and he thought it was the coolest thing ever

not only was he curious to see how the makeup would look on him, but he also just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you

he had been thinking about it for a few weeks now, but couldn’t seem to find the perfect moment to ask you

until one night you guys were having a sleepover on your dorm and a video of said trend pops up on his ‘fyp’

you’re cuddling, your head against his chest as his fingers trace random pattern on your back, when he brings it up

“hey babe?”

you hum in response, eyes fluttering open to look up at kaminari

he smiles before pecking your lips, thinking about how beautiful you look all cuddled up next to him

“do you think you could do my eyeliner real quick?”

the question takes you by surprise,

tho you’re used to yout boyfriend being quite spontaneous and random at times, so you don’t really question it

instead, you nod and move out of the bed to get the makeup product, which sits on your vanity

“where should i sit?”

he asks you once you walk over to him, but you simply smile before taking a seat on his lap

you position your legs on either side of his hips so you’re in a straddling position and kaminari almost forgets all about the makeup because of this

but can you really blame him?

you just look so perfect like this

he has to physically stop himself from flipping you over and kissing you all he wants

and you giggle when you notice a pout forming on his face

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing”

“you sure?”

“yeah, just hurry up and do it so i can kiss you”

you laugh, “yes sir”

when you start, he can’t help but giggle at the feeling and you have to hold his face in place so he would stop moving

he gets used to it after a while 

almost even falls asleep from how soft your other hand felt on his cheek

since you know kaminari likes to be a little extra, you attempt to draw a lighting bolt right below one of the lines

it’s not the best, but it looks decent enough so you decide to leave it there

but when you finish, you feel like something is missing; like it could be better

then you have the fantastic idea to use eyeshadow

kaminari feels you getting up from his lap and he whines 

“where are you going?”

“hold on, i’m feeling inspired right now”

“okay?”

he doesn’t understand what you mean at all, but he lets you be

you take a random eyeshadow palette and make sure it has a nice black color on it

then you reposition yourself on his lap

“open your eyes and look up”

he does as he’s told and you proceed to put some more black on his lower lash line and waterline (not too much)

when kaminari doesn’t feel your touch on his face anymore, he looks down at you with a smile, which inevitably makes you smile too

“how do i look?”

you chuckle lowly, examining his eyes once more 

he always looks gorgeous, but the eyeliner just...makes him hit different

and the fact he’s wearing one of his chokers doesn’t make it any better

he looks straight out of alt tiktok

“you, my beautiful boyfriend, look very attractive”

he smirks at your teasing tone, “oh? is that so?”

“i’m afraid it is” 

he doesn’t even bother looking in the mirror because all he could think about was kissing you

and that’s what he does

he holds your face with both of his hands before pulling you in to kiss you

his lips feel hot and so does your whole body when he grips your hips

after a few more kisses, he pulls away and looks at you with excited eyes

“can i do yours now?”

you chuckle at his cuteness before nodding and letting him draw on your face

it’s not perfect, but hey! baby tried his best and that’s all that matters

besides he looks so proud of himself, telling you how cute you look and how lucky he is to call you his

“you look soooo pretty! i mean you always do, of course, but you look even prettier which i didn’t know was humanly possible yet here you are”

he ends up going on a rant about all the things he loves about you and you’re pretty sure you have hearts in your eyes by the time he ends

“i love you”

“i love you too, my pretty girl”

kirishima eijirou:

this man has absolutely tried on eyeliner at least once in his life

has it been good? probably not

but he likes it and thinks it looks very cool

sometimes you do yours and kirishima lives for it

he likes the way it compliments the shape of your eyes and how happy you get when you get the line right from the first try

whenever you’re getting ready and he’s with you, he doesn’t take his eyes off you

a smile spreading across his lips when he sees you bite down on your lower lip in concentration, your fingers skillfully tracing the marker on your eyelids 

and that’s when the idea pops in his head

he ponders on it for a while tho, not sure how to bring it up or if you’d be up to do it

it takes him a few days before he asks you and when he does, he looks all nervous 

you’re both hanging out in his dorm cuddling as you just finished watching a movie

a yawn leaves your lips and you stretch your arms, looking at the time on your phone screen

it reads 12:33 AM 

you hum, moving your head up to look at kirishima from your place on his lap

he looks down at you and offers you a sweet smile before placing a quick kiss on your lips

“i should get going,” he pouts at your words, his hold on your waist tightening so you couldn’t stand up and you giggle, turning around completely so you’re facing him

you wrap your hands around his neck to pull him closer, just until your lips touch

you teasingly smirk at him before kissing his cheek and he frowns

“what? don’t you like my kisses?” you pout at him 

kirishima scoffs at your stupid question and grabs your jaw gently, looking you in the eyes

“stop being a tease”

you roll your eyes, “you’re so impatient”

nevertheless you comply and connect your lips with his, your hands now slightly massaging his nape

he hums against your mouth, prompting you to keep going

before things can go any further tho, you pull away 

he huffs childishly, not liking the way you kept leaving him hanging

“i seriously should get going,” you press one last peck on his lips. “don’t wanna risk getting caught here” 

“then just stay the night”

“baby i already did yesterday”

“uhh your point?”

you chuckle, “good try babe”

you attempt to stand up but once again your boyfriend stops you from doing so

you open your mouth to ask him what’s up 

but he beats you to it

“actually, i wanted to ask you something” he’s looking away from you and that makes you a little nervous, not having a clue about what he wanted to talk about 

you nod, silently telling him to keep going

“could you...do my eyeliner?” a blush creeps onto his neck, his eyes still not meeting yours and you think he looks adorable. before you can answer him, he talks again. “but i mean only if you want to cause’ i know it’s kinda hard so it’s okay if you don’t but i think i’d be really cool and-”

“oh my god eijirou it’s okay!” he finally shuts up and looks at you with big eyes

“it is?”

“hm, i’m more than happy to do it,” he lets out a sigh after hearing your comforting words and you kiss his nose. “besides you’ll look super manly”

if kirishima was already head over heels for you, then now he just wanted to straight up marry you

you got up and started to look around in kirishima’s bathroom drawer since sometimes you left some of your stuff behind just in case

luckily, the eyeliner was there

after you took it, you sat in front of kirishima once again, your legs crossed and you moved closer to him

he kept still and let you get comfortable, looking down at your lips briefly when you got a bit too close

“close your eyes”

and so he did

like i mentioned before, you’re a bit experienced with this since you practice on yourself quite a lot

so it doesn’t take you too much time

the line you drew was a bit thicker than normal but not too much

and instead of doing a straight line, you did it a bit more upwards

“and done!” you say happily while retracting your hand from kirishima’s face

he opens his eyes and offers you a grin

the action is small and meaningless, but it somehow makes you nervous

the makeup really suits him and you can’t help but admire him for a while 

by admiring i mean shamelessly checking him out

of course he notices it

and he teases you about it

“does it look good?”

“yeah,” you answer while looking away, trying to hide how flustered you are. “really good”

he hums before placing his hands on your waist and sitting you down on his lap, making you look at him with a surprised expression on your face

one of his hands stays on your waist while the other travels up to hold your face

you let out a heavy breath at his actions, feeling your heart thumping against your chest

his fingers caress your cheek softly and you lean in to his touch, loving the way he was always so gentle with you

without any warning, kirishima smashes his lips against your own

your eyes widen for a moment, not expecting this at all, but you close them when you feel his tongue touching your lower lip

you open your mouth and let him take the lead, a whimper coming out of you when you feel his hand wrap around your neck, pressing slightly

he pulls away with a smirk, both of your chests heaving from the lack of air

“still wanna leave?”

you sigh while moving your head, yet a smile was evident on your face, “i guess i can stay”

“atta girl”

takami keigo (hawks):

another one who canonically wears eyeliner !!

unlike bakugou (who does his eyeliner to cover up the gap between his mask and eyes), keigo does his solemnly because he thinks it looks good on him

wait, let me rephrase that

he knows it looks good on him

it’s part of his morning routine, he does it every time before going to work

so sometimes while you’re both getting ready for the day, you see him doing it

you open the bathroom door sleepily, barely managing to keep your eyes open

you walk over to the sink next to keigo’s and splash water on your face to wake yourself up

beside you, keigo smiles at your antics

he thinks you look the cutest in the mornings, especially when you’re grumpy

feeling his eyes on your figure, you turn around to face him with a raised brow

“why are you looking at me like that?”

“like what?”

“like i have something on my face”

he laughs at your attitude and walks over to place a kiss on your cheek

his lips feel warm against your cheek and it makes you smile

“good morning to you too” his says teasingly

“morning birdy” your tone matches his and he rolls his eyes playfully before pulling away from you to finish doing his eye makeup

you brush your teeth quickly while thinking about what you were gonna have for breakfast, and whether keigo had time to eat with you or not

once you finish, you place your toothbrush on its place and look over to your right

only to be met with the number two hero doing his eyeliner

in one hand he holds a feather of his against his eyelid, as if to help him do a straight line, and with the other he holds the actual makeup product

he has a concentrated look on his face, his brows slightly furrowed

and you look at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes

he looks so effortlessly beautiful

his golden locks are messy, yet perfectly in place and his wings rest by his side

he has his hero costume on, except for his coat

meaning his muscular arms are in full display for you to see

you don’t realize you’re staring until keigo finally finishes the second eye, and puts down the eyeliner

he smirks at you through the mirror and you look away, embarrassment clear on your face 

“come on, i made us breakfast”

instead of teasing you, like you thought he would, he simply grabs your hand and leads you to the dining table

your heart swells for the man and you look at the two plates in awe, “you did this?”

“is it so hard to believe?”

you roll your eyes before turning around and kissing him, a soft “thank you” leaving your lips as you pull away

that morning you can’t help but keep stealing glances at your boyfriend’s flawless eyeliner

and later that night, when you’re both cuddled up in each other’s arms  watching a movie, you get the sudden brilliant idea

“hey babe, can i do your eyeliner?”

keigo doesn’t even question you, he just nods before pressing a kiss to your neck and you giggle happily

you stand up to get the eyeliner from your shared bathroom and once you return, you take a seat right in front of him

“do you even know what you’re doing?” 

“shut up, i do my makeup too, you know?”

keigo laughs, “i’m just teasing baby”

“you’re mean”

he leans in towards you, pulling you closer by your hips until his lips hover over yours

unconsciously, your eyes look down at his lips, wondering whether he was gonna kiss you or not

but being the little shit he is, keigo doesn’t 

“you should hurry up,” his lips are still inches away from yours, but he doesn’t plan on closing the gap any time soon. “i wanna finish the movie”

this fucker

you clear your throat and move away from him, enough so that you can actually do the makeup, but his hands stay on your hips

you try your best to do it the exact same way he does it

a sharp, straight line that covers part of his outer v and also a small portion of his inner corner

giving his eyes a cat like shaped form

to add your own touch, you draw two small hearts on both sides of his cheekbones 

“m’kay, you can open your eyes now”

and when he does, your breath literally hitches in your throat

of course it’s not the first time you’ve seen him wearing eyeliner

but your faces are still close and his amber eyes are stuck on yours and you just feel like you’re about to explode

your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by keigo and he smirks 

“i take it you like how it looks?” his tone is flirty and it makes you snap from your trance

you smile at him, softly tracing the two hearts with your fingers, “hm, you look lovely”

“oh really?”

“yeah”

“not as lovely as you, i bet”

and before you can even disagree with him, he presses his lips against yours

you let out a soft moan when he moves you so you’re sitting on his lap and his tongue explores your mouth ever so passionately

keigo takes his sweet time kissing you, taking in every little sound you make and the way your hips slowly move against his thigh

when you pull away, your lips are swollen and you have some spit coating them

which is enough to make keigo go crazy, but before actually doing something, he takes the eyeliner on his hand

you furrow your eyebrows at his action

“what are you doing?”

“well it’s my turn now”

“why do you oh so suddenly want to do my eyeliner?”

he smiles, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “because i wanna see how it’ll look when i make you cry it off”

your eyes widen at his words, but you make no attempt to stop him

keigo kept his promise and he indeed made you cry all of your eyeliner off 😁👍🏼

[jisungscaramel]

dare | han 

❀ genre; smut, a little fluff, best friends au ❀ pairing; han jisung x reader (fem) ❀ word count; 2k

[warnings] explicit sexual content, oral, unprotected sex (be safe y’all), (mild) edging, cockwarming, saucy truth or dare

The intangible friction between you and your best friend was undeniable, yet with conviction, you held this idea that it was all in your head, and instead of fleshing out the inkling of frustration you felt every time you’d hang out, you chose to ignore it.

You chose to ignore the way he’d press his palms into the small of your back when he’d pull you close, the way he’d keep your body tight on his when he’d hug you, the way you’d catch his curious stares, the way his eyes seemed to send endless subliminal messages. 

You chose to ignore the way the butterflies would flutter in your chest whenever that physical contact was made, the desire that would pool in the pit of your stomach whenever your wordless gazes collided. 

You chose to ignore it. 

Until today. 

Honestly, you couldn’t say if he was on the same wavelength as you but as soon as he said these words on what you perceived to be a usual Netflix date (hold the chill), you were definitely suspicious: “Let’s play truth or dare.”

You knocked him on the head. “Han Jisung, you know there’s only two of us here… right?” 

He blinked at you innocently and rather cutely, as if he couldn’t see the correlation between your questions. “Yes… you’re point?” 

You clicked your tongue, sinking back into the worn in leather couch with your arms crossed. “Have you ever played truth or dare with just one other person? I sure as fuck haven’t.” 

He rolled his eyes in an exaggeratedly exasperated manner. “No, but I don’t recall there ever being a rule saying you can’t.” 

“But,” you turned to him to put on your best puppy dog face… which was mediocre at best but a valiant attempt, “don’t you wanna watch Avatar? We’re almost done with Book 2.” 

“We watched it already… 4 times actually… in the past month.” 

“Yes… your point?” you wrinkled your nose, repeating his previous words. 

“Let’s do something different for a change.”

You turn the television off. “Ok fine,” drawing out the latter word as if it were stuck on your tongue. 

Next thing you knew, he was constricting your body with his limbs, happily rubbing his cheek on yours like a child. “Yee!” and then all of sudden, he was sitting back, deadpan, folding his arms with determination. “Truth or dare?” 

“Hmmm truth.” 

And then that small child was back. “What? Why? That’s no fun!” 

You shrugged. “You wanted to play truth or dare, remember? Emphasis on truth.” 

“Fine, is it true that you hooked up with someone in the library?”

“Ji, I already told you that story.” 

“I know, but it was so wild that I didn’t really believe you. Now you have to tell me the truth.”

“What makes you think I’d be any less truthful otherwise? And also, what makes you think that I’d absolutely tell you the truth now if I was possibly lying before?” 

He widened his eyes and flared his nostrils in a rather comical manner. “If you can lie during truth or dare, you must be satan.” 

You stared at him rather blankly, speaking quite frankly, “that… made no sense.” 

His lips pressed into a firm line. “It does; you just won’t admit it.” 

You snickered, rolling your eyes. “Whatever… truth or dare”

“Dare, I ain’t no bitch.” 

You smacked his shoulder - playfully. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

And he pouted, rubbing his shoulder. “Nothing… nothing at all.” 

“I dare you to leave Felix a voice note confessing your love to him.” 

He offered you a begrudging glare but he wordlessly unlocked his phone with no hesitation, opening his messages with his roommate. He lifted the end to his lips: “Oi Felix! I just wanted to let you know that I love you bro.” He smiled in satisfaction as he sent the note. 

“That’s not what I meant!” you protested. 

To which, he shrugged. “You didn’t specify what kind of love.” 

Your hand made contact with your face in embarrassment. “Why are you like this?”

“Because you,” he placed his palms on his cheeks to squish them, “love me.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Ok, truth or dare?” 

“...Just to make you happy: dare.” 

“Hmmm,” he bit his lip in contemplation, “what should I get you to do?” he gripped his chin. 

“Please don’t make me eat wasabi. I almost burned my nose off that one ti-” 

“I dare you to kiss me… on the lips.” 

When you met his eyes, you expected the usual teasing glint, but you saw none. He was dead serious, and you felt the saliva thicken in your throat, forcing you to swallow a little harder than normal. 

As if your body was moving on its own, you leaned forward toward Jisung, resting your hands on his shoulders, distance lessening an inch by every passing moment. You were only planning on giving him a peck, but it just felt more natural to slightly part and purse your lips into a proper kiss. As your eyes fell shut, your heart began trembling in its confines, rattling your spine - you just hoped it wasn’t as obvious to him as it was to you. 

His plush peach lips were as soft as you imagined - though you’d never admit you’d been imagining it in the first place. And for a moment, maybe two, you passed through the mix of emotional signals, focusing instead on the physical, the subliminal body language: how his hands found themselves on your hips, how his lips occasionally broke the rhythm to tug on your lower lip, how he’d let out the softest groans every time there was a change in pressure. 

But then you removed yourself from your physical position, remembering the mental position you were in, biting your lips and looking away, biting your lips as if you wanted to say something, but your words clung to your throat - so you cleared it. “...truth or dare?” 

“Truth.” 

“Why did you want me to kiss you?” 

His expression was serious - something you weren’t used to. He leaned back, folding his arms, lips parted, tongue smoothing over his teeth to graze the edge of his top lip. “Same reason why you couldn’t get your hands off me.” 

You didn’t even have a moment to be dissatisfied with his answer. “Truth or dare?” there was a sultry tone to his voice, and although it was out of character for him, it was perfectly in line with the vibe he was giving in that moment. 

“Dare.” The first time you’d chosen that, it was for no reason other than to spare yourself of Jisung’s complaints, but this time? Curiosity laced your tongue, wondering where he would take it next, if he would take it anywhere at all. 

“Go down on me.” 

You tugged on your lower lip with your teeth as a subtle smirk grew on your face. Of course, he would. You got down on the floor, kneeling in front of him. 

You placed your palm over his crotch, feeling a stirring beneath the fabric of his jeans. “Are you gonna help me with this?” You prodded the top button with your index finger.

He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You’re a big girl.” 

Challenge accepted. 

The finger on his button flicked it undone, but you took your time pulling the zipper down. You were in no rush. 

But he was. 

You could tell from the slightest gestures: the way his back kept sinking back in the couch, the way his fingers kept combing through his hair, the way he hissed under his breath, the way his hips rolled up - if you weren’t so close to him, you wouldn’t have noticed any of it. 

When you finally took it upon yourself to free his personified frustration, you were taken aback, not because of his girth or the throbbing redness - although that was in the back of your mind. You were teetering on a metaphorical edge of your friendship. The kiss was one thing but now you were approaching the gate of no return. But you’d have plenty of time to worry about that later... and after the fact. 

You let the lust shroud your head with its black clouds as you leaned in closer. You delicately ran the flat of your ring finger up his length while dragging your tongue down, eliciting an explicit gasp from him.

And he couldn’t help but squirm under you when you circled your tongue under the head, where he was the most sensitive. 

Your lips secured around the tip, and you sunk them down as far as they could go, until they pressed firmly on his pelvis. The vulgar gurgling sound you inadvertently made while fighting your gag reflex only did more to stir his arousal. 

“Fuck, since when were you this hot?” 

You started bobbing your head up and down, cheeks hollowing as a result of the increased suction. Every now and then, you’d slow down to trace his prominent veins with your tongue, and when you’d pick up your pace again, grunts and groans continuously trickled down his lips. 

You wanted to smirk. Your nostrils flared as the corners of your lips lifted up as much as they could in their limiting position. You had to take your hands away from his hip and the base of his dick to place them behind your back just to show off.

When Jisung’s sounds became gruffer and more primal, you had an inlinking of what was to come. So, you stopped, smacking your lips with a loud pop. 

“Truth or dare?” Desire poured from your half-lidded eyes, lacing your voice in a tone that sent electricity through Jisung’s nerves. 

“...Dare,” he whispered, still heavily breathing. 

You stood up. “Take your pants off and don’t move for the next five minutes… no matter what.” 

He peered up at you with suspicious eyes, but did as you asked. His suspicion turned into surprise as you pulled your leggings and panty off in one motion, setting the garments on the ground. 

“What are you doing?” he asked in a strained voice as you straddled him, gripping the back of the couch for support, aligning your now-dripping heat over his erection. 

“Making,” you started lowering yourself, taking him in, “things more,” all in, “interesting.” 

He threw his head back, “Fuck.” 

“Remember,” you tapped your phone on the other side of the couch to see the time, “no moving for five minutes.”

“You’re so evil.” He glared at you. 

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I thought you knew this already.” 

“I didn’t-” his attempt to amend his statement was cut short when you attached your lips to his jaw, trailing kisses up its line, slowly, taking your time. 

He held his breath when yours blew into his ear, heat searing his skin, and you could feel him twitch inside you.

“I’m gonna destroy you when my turn is up.”

You tapped his chin with your finger. “If you can manage to behave until then.”

“You think I can’t?” 

“It’s not that I think you can’t… I just don’t think you can.” You waved your hips to increase the pressure between your connected skin, and you could tell he had to bite his tongue just to suppress a moan. 

When your lips latched onto his neck, he gulped, staring at the clock at the other end of the room. He tried to fixate on the constant movement of the second hand, but his body had a different agenda, preferring to focus on how good your lips felt on his sensitive skin, how you alternated between sweet pecks and French kisses, hard sucking and soft nibbling.

He felt the heat radiating from his skin, sweat dripping down the back of his neck as a result of his attempt to hold himself back. He grit his teeth, frustration crippling his body; he was this close to caving, this close. 

“Time.” 

He bucked his hips up, gripping yours tightly. “Such a fucking tease.” But he still held back, keeping his pumping slow and steady. “Truth or dare?” 

You crashed your body to match his tempo. “Truth.” 

“Do you want it harder?” 

“...Yes.” 

 ><><><><><><><

A/N This one is also a reimagined version of a scenario I wrote for a different idol years ago

[hslotharrie]

valentines (a.m)

summary: when reader and harry go home from their valentine’s day date.

word count: 2741

warnings: fluff, smut. slight bit of a choking thing going on. not edited as per usual!

tags: @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist

read part 1 here!

After your meal and a hearty slice of double chocolate cake, you're both stuffed.

The restaurant is much quieter now, nearing it's closing hours. Harry's hand is joined with yours across the table as he continues to munch away at the remnants of the cake. He hums along to whatever music plays quietly over the sound system until something crosses his mind and you're chatting away again.

You're smitten with him. He could be talking about something completely absurd and you would still be looking at him with more love and adoration in your eyes than should be humanly possible. The day you met, you fell in love with his personality, his mannerisms, him. And, when prompted (though sometimes not), he would say the same about you; meant to be.

Your pretty new necklace is now hanging safe around your neck, perfectly accenting your shirt just as Harry somehow had planned. Shocker. An inside joke, 'Harry magic', is announced when something works out perfectly in his favor. An unreasonably frequent occurrence, in your opinion, though you can't complain.

The plate is empty (spare the streaks of frosting and crumbs you both couldn't scoop up) and your drinks are finished. You're both up at the bar now, Harry's politely complimenting his experience to the teller while using the card machine to play your bill. It makes you smile how close he keeps you even at the mostly empty pub area, you're unmistakably his, right on his hip.

While he's doing his thing, you zone out on the sports television. They're saying something about some scandalous faked injury and you're not all that interested, but it's there, and—

"Do y'come here often?" Harry jokes, pulling you out of your trance. You let out a snort, turning your attention back to him and flashing your most innocent look,

"I do, actually! With my boyfriend, have you seen him?" you tease back, grinning when his hand wraps around your waist.

"Hmmm, can't say I have," he replies, faking thought "D'you want t'get out of here then?"

You lean back on the bar top, pretending to contemplate while his smile grows. He's feeling touchy, desperate to get you home but you know he's playing it down because of the public setting. Too many eyes.

Before you know it, Harry's leading you to the rather cold car and he's backing out of the parking place, inching towards the main highway to get you both home. His hand lays gently on your mid thigh, thumb rubbing delicate circles and patterns.

He hands you his phone to play some music through the bluetooth, and after struggling with what to play for a few minutes, you decide to play it safe and hit shuffle on his favourites playlist. He hums, braking out into lyric every now and then. The volume is low, his voice standing out against the tune.

It's quiet, but not so, at the same time. A pleasant medium.

"Can we have a bath when w'get home?" Harry asks, glancing in your direction only for a few seconds.

"Only if you wash my hair," you tease in return.

...

Soon you're pulling into the driveway, you both do a funny little run to the front door because of the cold. It causes a fit of giggles to erupt between you while Harry unlocks the door to your warm home. As soon as you're inside, he pulls you in for a kiss; holding your jaw with one hand and the back of your neck with the other to keep you close.

His kisses are soft, slow, and loving. You could feel the need behind them, but you still had a bath to get to so the kisses stayed kisses.

Harry pulls away, pressing one more peck to your lips before announcing that he's 'going to get some candles for the bath!' and scurrying away somewhere within your living room. Your shoes and coats are forgotten messily in the entryway as you head upstairs to start the warm bath.

You plug the large bathtub and then start the water, adjusting the temperature to a comfortable warm. Harry soon appears behind you in the doorway with your favourite candles and both of your bathrobes.

He places the candles with his own careful consideration and lights each of them with a lighter. When he finishes, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

Harry notices the bath is nearing full, so with a smirk, his hands venture through your open tucked shirt to tickle along your back. You chuckle, leaning your foreheads together as his hands slowly untuck your shirt and then rise to push the fabric off of your shoulders. He dips down, pressing quick kisses along your neck, reaching your collarbone before you have to reluctantly push him away.

"Bath first, H." you murmur, pulling his head back to meet his eyes.

He does nothing but hums in reply, a big smirk still plastered on his face. You start unbuttoning his shirt, teasing him on purpose. You step back to admire the fake shock-offended expression you've created on his face before slipping off your bottoms and sliding into the warm bath water, leaning ahead to shut off the tap.

After murmuring something about you being a little minx, Harry shrugs off his clothes and sinks in behind you. For a moment, you relax into eachother. The comfortably hot water soothes your skin. It's bliss.

Until Harry's lips begin to roam. And his hands, too.

It started out innocent, just a few light kisses on your shoulder, but those grew into nips, bites, and soon he's blooming purple flowers along the line of your neck. You sigh as his hands roam the parts of your body exposed from the warm water.

Harry slides his foot to the tub drain, moving it to the side to allow the water to escape. Harry's hands continue to tease over your skin, lightly tracing from your collarbones, between your breasts, then skipping over your middle to run a finger down your thigh, lowering his touch as the water drains.

"Beautiful, every inch of y'body," he breathes, just under your ear.

"Harry," you warn in return, attempting to squeeze your legs together when he traces particularly low. He only hushes you in reply.

You can feel him behind you, getting hard against your lower back. A sly smirk on his face as he watches your skin tense as he traces all the way down your thighs only to skip over your most sensitive area and drag a finger up your stomach. To tell the truth, Harry loves the desperate, sensitive reactions you give him. He's having fun teasing you.

The water is gone now, completely down the drain. He nips once at your ear before his fingers travel feather-light down your thighs and this time they don't jump to your chest. He's holding his middle finger over your clit, no movement but it's pressure and it's there. The shock makes an uncontrollable gasp escape your throat and your legs try to snap shut again.

Harry hooks his foot around your ankle, successfully pinning your leg against the side of the tub and thus allowing enough space for him rub slow circles around your little bundle of nerves. You get more and more sensitive, and soon he pulls his fingers away from your clit only to slide two swiftly through your entrance.

Your jaw is wide open and your head is thrown back against his shoulder. You can see the growing, entertained, smile on his face as he pumps his fingers and you whine out. You're beginning to tighten, he can feel it, so he snakes the hand previously holding your hip up to wrap gently around your neck.

Your breathing turns into gasps and your fingertips turn white from holding the sides of the tub. Your pussy starts to flutter, hips jaunting, and Harry's adding pressure to your neck as he feels you near closer to your break.

You can almost feel the smug smile on his face. He's enjoying getting you off on his fingers, making you feel good, and he always has. He matches your moans with his own, cheering you on.

"Harry," you whine, breathless.

"Y'can let go, baby. Let me feel y'cum," he says.

He holds you through it, moaning along with you when you come undone. His hold on your neck tightens just a tad more, making your head foggy in the best way. His fingers don't stop until you're forcing him away, breathing heavily and twitching from over-stimulation.

When you come down, you let out a quiet giggle through your huffs of air. Harry wraps you in a hug from behind, pressing a kiss to your cheek and letting out a few giggles of his own.

"Didnt wash my hair," you joke. Harry snorts in reply.

"Would have you rathered I washed y'hair instead?"

"...No."

"Ah, need I say more?," He says, quiet and close to your ear, just the sound of his breathy whisper shivers down your spine.

You sit forward, giggling at the hiss Harry makes from the relief of pressure on his dick. You stand and step out of the shower,  grabbing one of Harry's soft towels and patting the remaining dampness off of your body. Harry watches like a lost puppy, hurt almost, cock hard against his tummy.

You throw the towel onto him, flashing him a smirk and walk backwards towards the door to your bedroom.

"I'm not 'gonna fuck you in the tub, H." you say, arms folded while he stands to dry himself.

"Going t'fuck me?" he pats dry his chest and legs with little effort, giving up when you stop at the door to look him up and down.

There's about three seconds of silence when the both of you just stare, taking in each other's bodies before your eyes meet again and he's dropping the towel to step towards you.

Harry brings both of his palms to your face and kisses you hard. He nudges you backwards, guiding you to the bed. Just as the back of your legs hit the mattress, he gently pushes you enough for you to lose balance and fall onto the plushy sheets. He stands, taking you in.

You move back on the bed to allow Harry some room to join you. The mattress dips with his weight and you then feel him pressing opened mouth kisses on your neck, light scruff scratching along where his lips and tongue don't soothe. The tip of his cock is resting just below your hip bone, leaking; telling the truth of just how much you turn him on.

"M'gonna fuck you baby," Harry almost warns "so good."

"So good." you agree, watching as he slides himself between your legs and brings each of your thighs to wrap around his hips.

Suddenly, he's taking your wrists and pinning them above your head, using one hand to hold them while he uses the other to tap the tip of his cock against your clit. You let out a quiet whine, your pussy clenching around nothing.

"Harry— fuck, please," you beg, squeezing your eyes shut in anticipation.

He guides himself to your entrance, teasing over your hole a few times before sliding in all at once. You both let out a loud groan, your jaw drops and you struggle against his hold on your wrists. Harrys in his own world, eyebrows furrowed as he brings another hand to hold your wrists and drops his head into your neck to compose himself.

"You're squeezin' me so tight, so fuckin' wet."

He slides out slowly, then snaps his hips forward. He moans again; the sweet sound blending with your own.

"So warm, baby, takin' me so well." he coos, pulling out just to the tip and pushing in again, setting a steady pace this time.

You can feel him deep. Every vein, the soft ridge of the head of his cock, every time his skin comes in contact with yours sends a jolt through your body. You can feel his breaths against your collar bone, building himself up so that he can truly fuck you.

And he does.

When he's confident he's got enough control over himself, he brings a hand down to your hip to use as leverage as he begins pounding into you without warning. Your head flies back into the mattress, a long needy moan breaks out of your throat as his hips snap into your own. It's not long before you feel the pit in your stomach begin to knot, and when harry feels your pussy begin to flutter he's moving the hand on your hip to rub fast around your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Give it t'me baby, you can cum, let go," he sighs, out of breath.

You give in, whining loudly and then moaning out a few loud ah ah ah!'s as he keeps his relentless pace even through your orgasm.

He slows only slightly, letting you get your bearings. He finds your eyes, making sure you're alright before flipping so he's sitting with you on his lap, holding your arms behind your back. You moan out at the new angle— he feels deeper this way.

Somehow, you convince your legs to move, sliding up and down on his cock. You're whimpering uncontrollably, Harry presses a kiss to your lips before leaning down to take one of your breasts into his mouth. You yelp, already feeling another high approaching.

Harry, of course, can tell. He releases your arms and your breast to wrap one hand around your throat, much like in the bath, and holds your hip with the other so he can fuck into you again. You almost cry with the joined sensation, wrapping both of your hands around his forearm and locking eyes with him.

There's sweat joining at his hairline, on his neck, down his chest and, fuck, it's the hottest thing you've ever seen. His eyebrows are creased together, jaw open, he's panting. He's slamming into you, keeping a medium level squeeze on your neck and trying his hardest to bring you to a second high before he meets his limit. The rings on his fingers, especially the shiny new silver ones, provide the perfect amount of bite to his grip on you. Harry magic.

He’s hitting that spot inside of you every time he thrusts and he can’t believe how tight you are. He’s losing control, fast, and his desperate whines are nearly overpowering your own at this point.

“Baby, need you to cum,” he begs, watching your eyes. You can tell he’s close, his jaw is clenched and his rhythm falters every now and then.

“Baby, please,” he whines again, out of breath. “cum around my cock.”

His thumb hardly had time to find your clit before your body tenses, the white hot feeling of your third orgasm washing over you. Harry isn’t far behind, both of his arms wrap around you to hold you close as his hips snap up one final time and warm spurts are coating your walls.

His head is tucked into the bend of your neck as he lets out a loud groan of pleasure, milking his orgasm and pulsing inside of you. You can’t help but smile and hold him through it. Gently, you knit your fingers into his hair to bring him back

When he’s caught his breath, you pull away. Harry lets out a quiet hiss when you do, but he’s got a drowsy smile on his face and presses a quick kiss to your lips before he rotates and gives you a gentle push onto the bed.

His feet pad to the bathroom and you can hear him wetting a cloth to clean you and himself up with. When he returns he kisses you again, slower this time, before bringing the damp warm cloth to your inner thigh, testing the temperature before gently cleaning you off. You still flinch though, sensitive, and Harry meets your eyes before he continues.

“Alrigh’?” he asks quietly, more to soothe than to assure your comfort. You nod, allowing him to finish and throw the cloth in the direction of the bathroom and crawl into bed beside you.

“Wha’ time’s it?” you whisper to Harry beside you. He shuffles to his side to check his phone, cringing at the brightness and then flopping back into bed beside you.

“Twelve fourteen,”

He presses a light, sweet kiss to your lips; knowing what you’re about to say.

“Happy valentine’s day, H.”

[weareallstoriesintheend]

A writing request: Protective Clyde rescues reader from a guy being a little too handsy at the bar. Makes sure reader gets home safely. Super fluff/protective Clyde. Maybe ends with a 'thank you' kiss on the cheek. Annnddd I'm already crying thinking about you writing this

Safe & Sound (Reader x Clyde Logan) 

Note: For you @ladyinwriting18? Anything! 🥰

Part 1 of the Safe & Sound Series. Here is Part 2 & 3

Warnings: Creepy misogynistic bullshit. But also the fluffiest of fluff!  

Words: 2,407 

Smutty Part 2 - HERE

The smell of whiskey breath ghosting over your face made your stomach turn. You were just trying to have a quiet drink at the ‘Duck Tape’ after a long day at work and all of a sudden you were having your evening ruined by some overbearing guy with half a bottle of dutch courage behind him. “Seriously, I’m okay thank you” you said politely, trying to catch the eye of anyone who could get this guy off you. You were not one to be polite to guys that harass you usually but something about this guy’s overly aggressive lean towards you had put you on edge. All sorts of images and scenarios were flashing through your mind and your heart was starting to hammer in your chest. But just like always, just like you were taught from the time you can walk, you played it off by smiling sweetly and being as polite as possible. Annoyingly you’d chosen to sit in the back corner of the bar tonight so you had nowhere to go but past him. Your dress was high up on your thigh and you tried, subtly, to pull it down.   “Nah, come on sweetheart” he said with a smirk, flicking your long hair off your shoulder dragging his fingers purposely along your skin as he does it “Let me buy you a drink” You went to speak again, hoping to brush him off but the panic in you was rising. The feeling of his skin on yours had triggered something within you, you fidgeted your hands over each other on the bar top to stop them trembling. You looked up at him, mustering up that fake sweet smile again, turning to grab your jacket to leave – figuring this was the only way to get him to leave you alone – before you heard someone else speak.

“I’m goin’ to have to ask you to leave” you heard the deep drawl before you looked up. Clyde Logan was sidling his way across to where you were sat in the corner, the light of the bar was behind him like an aura. Your lumbering guardian angel. Honestly you’d never paid too much attention to him, he was just… Clyde. He’d been around forever except for when you’d returned from college and found out he was off in Iraq. Clyde was just the big grumpy bartender who made a mean vodka cranberry for you every Friday night; the same grumpy bartender who always slipped in an extra lime because he knew you liked it. You gave him a relieved smile as you caught his eye; he instantly turned his attention back to the guy leaning against you as he piped up once more. “Oh come on Clyde, I was only havin’ a bit of fun” he slurred, giving him a hacking laugh before slipping his hand up your arm and onto your shoulder. You instantly tensed up, skin crawling as you could feel the sweat drip from his forehead on your bare shoulder as he propped himself against you. “Oh I’m sure ya are. But see, I don’t think she finds it very fun do you darlin’?” Clyde said looking at you out the corner of his eye and you shook your head. “Now I’m asking ya to leave cause you’re making my customers uncomfortable. I’m damn sure this woman, nice as she is, doesn’t want your hands all over her now does she?” You shook your head again and the guy looked at you, having the audacity to scoff in offense at your response before turning back to Clyde with a grin. But Clyde kept talking “Her shakin’ her head there? That’s her sayin’ no. Got that? So I’m goin’ to ask you one more time to get off her. Look at her… sweet like a little bird she is, she don’t need your big greasy paws all over her like that” The drunk guy sneered and jostled your shoulders in a jovial way, trying to show Clyde how you were at ease you supposed, and you felt his metal watch strap nick your skin at the back of your neck and you hissed softly at the pain. There was a sudden thud and you looked down; Clyde had grabbed the guy’s free arm that was resting on the bar with his flesh hand. He gave it a sudden tug and the guy gave a high-pitched yelp as he was pulled closer to Clyde and off you. “I said… I’m goin’ to have to ask you to leave” Clyde repeated. You knew sweet, quiet Clyde could have a temper when he needed one; you’d seen him strong-arm a few guys out on their asses a few times over the years. You’d always quietly admired how sturdy and wide his body looked, comfortable and yet solid. So when he did things like that you’d silently sip your drink, pretending you weren’t watching his bicep bulge under his long-sleeved shirt as he grabbed the guy by the scruff of the neck or twist their arm behind their back and haul them out the bar. Another bar patron, an older guy, was walking past this little scene and shot the drunk guy a knowing look before giving his input “Now Billy! Logan here’s got two tours under his belt. Show the guy some respect. Make yourself scarce, come on” Clyde shoo’d this new guy off with a tilt of his head and the guy threw his hands up in surrender before walking away. Billy let out another hacking laugh that made you flinch slightly in your seat, it was full of contempt and far too much confidence for a man in his position “What do you think ya goin’ to do Logan? One arm freak ain’t gunna do nothin’ to me!” “I think you’ll find that I still have my arm, just my forearm and hand that’s missin’. I still got enough to break this arm of yours in three places if you don’t leave this beautiful young lady alone” “Oh I see, Little Logan got a crush” Billy grinned cockily at him, spittle was flying out of his mouth as he slurred and it made you cringe as you saw it landing on Clyde’s dark blue shirt. You started to panic again, you didn’t know what Clyde was going to do next and you shot him a look. You didn’t want him to get himself in trouble for you and after everything that had had happened at the speedway you worried that one little thing would get the cops on

his ass again. He caught your panicked expression and gave you a contemplative pout before turning his head back to Billy. He dragged Billy a little closer so he was bent uncomfortably; you could see his belt cutting deep into his side, pressed into him by the wood of the bar. He was flinching and groaning in Clydes strong grasp, when Clyde spoke he was close to his face and his voice was a low, slow and dangerously calm growl “Now somethin’ tell me this precious, good woman here wants me to spare you the pain I was plannin’ on givin’ ya, kind as she is. So I’m goin’ to let you go but if I ever see you so much as look at her again I’ll show you what two tours in Iraq teaches ya. Got it?” You watched as Billy quickly gathered up his jacket that was hanging haphazardly from the chair he had been sitting on and skitter out the bar like a dog with its tail between its legs. Clyde gave you a pouty but satisfied nod before calmly going back to washing glasses.

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The bar was closing in around an hour so Clyde made you another drink, extra lime as always, to steel your nerves. As he walked around, picking up after people and saying goodnight to the stragglers he kept a close eye on you. Always looking back over his shoulder to where you were sat. You smiled every time he looked at you, several times you thought about getting up to leave for the night but he always caught your eye and something in his look made you sip your drink a little slower. Maybe you should stick around.

“He didn’t hurt you or nothing did he?” Clyde said in a low voice so the last people that were leaving couldn’t hear him. Part of you wondered if he was embarrassed to be helping you but then you realised, as he turned his body to literally shield you from the gaze of the rest of the patrons in the bar, he was protecting your privacy. “No Clyde, I’m fine thank you” you smiled, brushing your dress down awkwardly trying to ease the tension. Clyde was a man of few words usually but he made up for it in the intensity of his stare and right now that stare was focussed purely on you. His eyes roamed over you and it made a heat rise up on the back of your neck. He made a grunting noise, almost to himself, and he leaned over the bar to fetch a napkin. He turned the tap on that was over the small bar sink and dipped the napkin under the running water. You gave him a look, raising your eyebrow in question and he nodded to you shoulder. You looked down and noticed a small trail of dried blood running down your shoulder from where the guy had cut you with his watch. “Can I touch ya? Is that okay?” he asked, eyes soft and concerned as he studied you. You nodded shyly and he leant forward and wiped the napkin over your skin gently. You watched his hand carefully, the huge size of it compared to your arm making you bite back a giggle. The cold of his horseshoe ring brushing lightly against your skin made you break into goosebumps. He dabbed and patted to make sure he got it all wiped away “There ya go, all cleaned up” He gave your arm a stroke with his thick knuckles, like he was doubly making sure you were all squared away. Clyde Logan didn’t smile very much, you always thought his signature grumpy pout was actually quite endearing, but in this moment as you gazed up at him he gave you the smallest, most tender smile and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. “You don’t have to take care of me you know?” you whispered, he shook his head as he hopped up on the bar and swung himself back over. “Well of course I do, pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have to deal with assholes like that!” You gave him a small push to his chest that barely moved him “You stop that!” you laughed, he chuckled as you dipped your head down, letting your hair hide the growing blush on your cheeks. “I only speak the truth darlin’” he said turning to wander over to the cash register “Give me 2 minutes to check todays takins’ and I’ll drive ya home” You scoffed and dropped off your high bar stool onto your feet “You really don’t need to do that, I’m sure that guy is long gone” “Well I can’t just let ya go home on your on now can I? What kind of gentleman would I be if I did that?” he said, you swear you saw him smirk to himself and he pushed his hip into the cash register to close it. He turned to you, swinging his jacket off the hook on the wall and around his shoulders. “Oh Clyde, you’re sweet but I’ll be okay” You stepped forward as you spoke and helped him pull his jacket over his prosthetic arm “Really! I don’t live too far, you know that! It’s only a mile round the corner I can walk it” You flushed at his forwardness and unexpected level of care he was showing you. The heat was rising up on the fact of your neck again and you couldn’t quite decide if it was embarrassment or something a little more intimate. “Nonsense, I won’t hear another word on the matter” he shot you another smile; you quite liked this more relaxed Clyde. There was something about that shy smile that made you accept his offer with a small nod. “Perfect. Let me grab my keys and I’ll drive ya”

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You hopped down out of his truck as he opened the passenger door for you, which he had insisted on doing; he’d even held out his prosthetic arm for you to use to steady yourself as you dropped unsteadily onto your driveway. You’d thanked him quietly and he’d responded “Nothing but the best for the princess” making you giggle and elbow his side jokingly. You both wandered down the driveway in comfortable silence, nothing but crickets and the crunch of gravel beneath both your shoes.

“Safe and sound now aren’t ya” he said, tapping your front door absentmindedly with his knuckle, watching you wrestle your keys out of your bag. You chuckled and nodded, before you could give yourself a second to overthink it you pitched up on your tip toes, pulling him down slightly with your a small hand on his wide shoulder, and placed a timid kiss to his cheek. “Thank you Clyde” you whispered. You giggled slightly as a noticeable pink blush bloomed across his cheeks and he shook his head and stuttered “N-no thanks necessary sweetheart”

You put your key in the lock and he turned to leave with a courteous nod goodnight. As you pushed open the door breathing out a tightly held in sigh, suddenly thankful to be in the comfort of your own home, you heard him say your name. You spun to see him a few feet away from you, rocking on his heels slightly “Come by the bar tomorrow night? I’ll make you another one of those cranberry drinks you like and…I’d errr… I’d love to see ya”

Now it was your turn to blush, you hoped he couldn’t see it in the shadow of your doorway

“I’d love too. See you then” you replied, giving him a small wave before going inside.

Maybe you should have paid more attention to the big grumpy bear behind the bar because it turns out, he’s rather sweet.

[mxltifaves]

The One About Last Night (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: After an eventful night you wake up with an unimaginable hangover and try to piece the events of the night before.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: Hey guys I've had this written in my for a while now so here it is. I got the inspiration from a TikTok I saw and Katy Perry's Last Friday Night. I hope you enjoy this mess.

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You groaned as you woke up. Your head pounding as the events from the night before tried to resurface. You turned your body only to feel someone next to you. Slowly opening your eyes only to see Bucky next to you. Your whole body froze, your eyes scanning the room realizing you were in Buckys. You looked down at your body, covered by a very thin sheet with nothing underneath. The last thing you remembered was going out with the team for some drinks. Slowly and carefully you slid off the bed. You tried finding your clothes but your dress was ripped in half. Great. Wrapping the sheet tighter around your body you carefully slipped out of Bucky's room and made your way to yours across the hall. What the hell happened last night?

You slipped in the shower trying to get rid of the alcohol stench you had. After you finished you put on a pair of shorts and a tank top. You made your way to the common area only to see it trashed. Bottles of alcohol all over the place, furniture misplaced, and a lot of broken things. What the hell? You went to the kitchen to trap a cup of coffee and saw the whole team, including Bucky, nursing their own coffee.

“Do any of you remember what happened last night?” You asked, walking over to the coffee pot.

“Not so loud,” Nat groaned.

“I’m pretty sure we drank all of the alcohol in New York,” Wanda said

“Figures, given the number of empty bottles out there,” you said pouring your coffee.

“What happened to you?” you asked Tony, pointing out the purple eye.

“No idea,” was all he said.

“Y/n what's on your neck?” Steve asked, causing everyone to look at your neck.

“What?” Your eyes shot wide.

“Is that…a hickey?” Tony asked, getting a closer look. You ran over to the mirror to get a good look at it. A clearly visible purple hickey sat on your neck.

“Uh y/n, you have another one on your shoulder,” Bruce pointed out.

“Is that a bite mark?” Sam raised his brow at you. You were going to kill Barnes. Bucky’s cheeks flushed red as he saw you looking at last night's evidence.

“Who did you sleep with?” Wanda asked

“I’d rather not talk about it,” your eyes landing on Bucky for a brief moment before turning back to the mirror.

As you finished your coffee you opened your phone and were greeted by thousands of notifications. You scrolled through your Instagram and there were pictures of last night. “Oh god,” you said under your breath.

Pictures of everyone at the bar, pictures of you doing shots with Wanda and Nat, some of you laughing, dancing on tables. “Have you seen these?” you asked Nat showing her the pictures. “Yea kinda hard too when your phone’s been blowing up every second,” she responded. You kept scrolling as more pictures of last night appeared. Sam holding a nearly empty bottle, videos of Thor pouring shots of his Asgardian booze, more videos of you dancing in tables but this time at the compound, pictures of Steve and Bucky streaking through the tower, Thor pouring his Asgardian booze down your throat, you hoped that was it. Even though the hangover was excruciating, last night looked pretty fun.

“Fury is going to kill us all,” Steve said. As soon as the words left his mouth Tony’s phone rang.

“Speak of the devil,” Tony muttered. They spoke on the phone briefly before hanging up.

“He wants us all downstairs in ten minutes,” he said

“Where is Thor?” you wondered looking around the room.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, where is Thor?” Tony asked the A.I.

“He is in the pool,” F.R.I.D.A.Y responded. They all made their way outside to the pool and found Thor sleeping on an inflatable bed. You grabbed a pool stick and started poking him to wake up. He stirred awake slowly, opening his eyes to be met by everyone staring at him. “Come on Fury wants to talk to us,” Steve said. They helped him get to the edge of the pool to get out.

Once everyone was ready they all made their way downstairs to see Fury. Before Bucky could make it inside you pulled him aside. “What the hell Barnes? You bit me? And left a hickey?” you hissed.

“From what I remember you weren’t complaining,” he smirked “I barely remember what happened. How did we end up having sex,” you whispered. “It was the alcohol,” was all he said before entering the room.

Everyone was sitting down when Fury came in. “What the hell happened last night?” he yelled causing everyone to groan in pain. “If you’re gonna yell, do it quietly please,” you said.

“You guys are the avengers, you’re not supposed to be getting kicked out of bars, or starting fights, or run around naked,” Fury listed

“Well that explains Tony’s black eye, and why we ended up here,” Nat said

“You seriously don’t remember what happened?” he asked looking at everyone’s confused faces.

“Not really,” Sam said.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, play the recording from last night,” he said “Oh god, you said to yourself bracing for whatever was going to play.

The first shot of the video was of everyone is stumbling in from the elevator, clearly drunk. Nat, Wanda, and you collapsed on the couch, giggling. Tony grabbed some ice for his eye, while the guys started pouring shots for everyone. Fast forward an hour later, everyone was playing beer pong which resulted in the table being broken in the end. You doing body shots with Thor and Bucky. Now that sorta explained how you and Bucky ended up in bed, I mean those abs. Wanda, Nat, and you dancing with each other on a table. At some point, you and Nat started making out. You and Nat looked at each other across the table and burst out laughing at the video. “Something funny, agent y/l/n? Romanoff?” Fury asked sternly

“No sir,” you both said trying to hold back your laughter.

“Look, sir, we are sorry for the trouble to be caused, it won’t happen again,” Steve apologized

“I’m not,” you said making everyone look at you.

“I admit we got a little too crazy but we work our asses every single day to make sure the people of New York, the world for that matter are safe. We deserve a night off to blow off steam and have some fun,” you said

“I guess you are right. But next time you decide to “have fun” do it here not out in public. Got it?” he said

“Understood,” you smiled proudly at yourself.

Everyone started leaving the room, heads still pounding, you grabbed Natasha and dragged her to your room. “Y/n hold on, what’s going on?” Nat said with wide eyes.

“I had sex with Bucky,” blurted out

“He’s the one that did that to you?” she gestured to the bite mark and hickeys.

“Yup,” was all that came out.

“Well it looks like you had fun,” Nat smirked

“Not helping. And I totally don’t remember all of it, but from what I do remember it was… pretty hot,” you said a small smile forming.

“You’re totally blushing,” the redhead teased

“Am not,” you denied it

“So you gonna do it again?” she asked

“Of course not, why would you even ask that?” you asked

“Because you clearly want it to happen again,” she said, which part of you knew was true but the more sane part said no.

“Okay maybe I want it to happen again but it won’t,” you said

“Whatever you say y/n. I gotta go cure this hangover, I’ll see you later. Try not to have sex with anyone,” she laughed exiting your room. You collapsed on your bed, thinking about what Nat said. A few minutes later you heard knocking on your door. You got up and opened it only to reveal Bucky standing there.

“Bucky, what are you doing here?” you asked furrowing your brows. He lifted his hands to reveal a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water. “To nurse you back to health,” he said

“Thanks,” you took the items from him letting him into your room.

“So about last night,” he began to say. “Before you say anything, we were incredibly drunk last night and we had sex. We should just move on and forget it happened,” you said, not believing a word you were saying.

“If that’s what you want, then okay,” he nodded, a little heartbroken at your words.

“Okay,” you stood there looking at his blue eyes, unable to look away. Before you realized his hands cradled your face and he crashed his lips onto yours. “What are you doing?” you said breathlessly. “I can’t just forget about it,” he said hoping you felt the same. This time you kissed him, wrapping your hands around his neck. “You sure about this?” he asked between kisses.

“Yeah,” you breathed out. The two of you collapsed onto your bed, let’s just say things got crazier than the night before.

[xfandomwritingsx]

Unchained Part Two - Riddick

Description: When your crew captures Riddick, you risk letting him go. (And travel with him and now you’re attracted to a murderer. Fun times.)

Warnings/Labels: Language, Sexual Activities (Fingering), Riddick being Riddick.

Approx. Word Count: 3,300

A/N: GUYS! Look what I FINALLY did!!! I am too lazy and too excited to find a gif for this fic so just... live without one.\

Part One

You knew if he didn’t decide to kill you first, Riddick was going to drop you at the next planet, livable or not. He never said it, but you weren’t under any delusions about traveling together and honestly just hoped you’d get there sooner than later. The longer it took, the more chance he had to decide you weren’t worth keeping alive.

Unfortunately, shortly after he’d jettisoned the crew, alive or otherwise, into black space, you’d hit a bad storm. Navigation systems were cut and you both got knocked around pretty good. Parts of the ship were destroyed. Whole sectors had broken off. It was a wonder how you were both still alive.

The following day, you caught him trying to tend to an injury on his own back. You watched for a moment as a man made of pure muscle attempted to apply aid to a place he could not reach. The click of his jaw was the only indication that he was frustrated.  

“Here,” you offered, entering the dark room and setting down the pile of clothes you’d collected for yourself on a nearby table. “Let me help.” You stood next to him and waited for his silent permission, his acceptance of your offer. He looked at you, melted silver eyes taking you in. His stare wasn’t predatory this time, rather curious and quizzical as he assessed you.

As you assumed, he didn’t say anything, simply handed you the rag in his hand as his command to proceed. You took it and moved behind him, straddling the same bench he was. He gave you one final look over his shoulder before turning away and letting you work.

The wound was mostly superficial with more bruising than anything. You used the rag to gently clean the area before applying a small amount of ointment to the bruised skin. Riddick was unmoving under your touch. He did not flinch nor relax into your hands, simply stayed still and silent in front of you as you worked on him. Your fingers lingered on his skin once you were done, tracing the hard muscle of his shoulders and you only removed them when he turned his head to you again and silently cocked an eyebrow at you.

When you pulled away, there was deep rumble of a “Thanks,” from him and you shuffled yourself out fairly quickly, not seeing the amused smirk he gave you.

Less than a day later, you docked at a station on a remote planet. You packed up your bag with everything that could fit inside and left the ship. You bartered with locals for a short while and tried to get your bearings and perhaps a plan.

When you returned to the ship an hour later, you’re not surprised to see it gone. What did surprise you, was a strong hand wrapping itself around your forearm and pulling you to the side. Riddick had come up behind you and led you to another ship, one he’d either bought somehow or, more likely, high jacked. This time you saw the slightest smirk on his lips as he watched the surprise on your face.

And now, a couple of months later, you’re still on that foreign ship traveling through space with your only companion being a cold-hearted murderer. And yet, as you stand in the cockpit staring out at an endless sky full of stars, you can’t help but think this is the most content you’ve been in a long time. You’ve been flittering around the galaxy, jumping planet to planet for supplies and having no responsibilities besides keeping the ship going, keeping yourself alive, and making sure Riddick doesn’t want to kill you. You actually spend less time looking over your shoulder now than you did traveling with mercs the last few years. Overall, it’s not a bad way of life.  

There’s a chuckle behind you from Riddick who’s sitting in the pilot’s chair that he’s moved to the side of the control panel. You look over your shoulder at him with arms crossed over your chest.  It’s quite amusing how casual and comfortable he looks there.  

“Let me ask you something,” he says, hands folded in his lap as he watches you, ghost of a smile still on his mouth. “When you gonna stop taking everything you own off the ship every time we land?” You furrow your brow and act as though you don’t know what he’s talking about, which only makes him chuckle again. “You think I don’t see you packing up all the supplies you can carry every time we dock?” He tilts his head at you. “Like you’re not expecting to come back.” You press your lips together and turn around fully to face him.

“I thought you’d drop me the first chance you got,” you admit. “Never liked the idea of being unprepared. Second nature when you run with mercs.” You shrug and watch as Riddick carefully runs his tongue around the edge of his lower lip. His goggles mask his eyes, but you’ve picked up on his movements the last couple of months and judging by the small dip in his chin, he’s running his eyes over your body. It’s a gesture you’ve found you don’t mind much at all.

“Come here,” he tells you firmly, leaving little to no room for you to argue. You follow the command and step forward slowly, purposely stepping just off to the side of him. “Now why would I drop something as beautiful as you?” Soft words, but a dark voice. You have to physically repress the shiver that tickles down your spine. You suspect he sees the little roll in your shoulders as you uncross your arms.

“You don’t strike me as the kind of man to keep things around just because they’re pretty.” You slip your hands into your back pockets just so they’re not hanging at your sides. You ignore the way Riddick looks at you and the delightful chill that that crawls across your skin.

“Ahhh,” he sighs, still clearly entertained by the conversation. “But you have your uses, don’t you?” There’s a clear definition in his voice that implies more than flirtation and it both excites you and scares you.  

“Well, I can sure as shit turn a ship better than you. That’s for sure,” you joke lightly, something in you not wanting to give in to his game so easily. He bites his lip and hums.

“By all means, take the helm,” he tells you. A wicked tilt comes over his mouth and you get the feeling he’s looking directly into your eyes. “I’ll enjoy the ride.”  

A heat rises from your center and resonates up the skin of your neck. Skin tingles as you force yourself to breathe slowly, evenly. You toy with the idea of playing back with him, the danger of the fire so tempting and hard to resist. You wonder if you could get a rise out of him. Could you make him weak at the knees if you tried?

You’re still contemplating what you want when Riddick suddenly grabs you. Your heart jumps and adrenaline fills your veins instantly, but you’re not nearly quick enough to stop him. His wraps around your wrist first, yanking you forward and spinning you off balance. His other hand slips around the base of your throat and in a flurry of movement, he’s pulled you onto his lap, his chest pressing firmly to your back.  

Your breath is shaky now as you attempt to stay completely still. Survival mode already kicked in, your body freezes in order to show no threat towards a wild animal. No sudden movements. No tensing of the muscles he might feel. Just slow breath and concentration.

It’s a near mirror image to the hold he had on you when you set him free and as you begin to calm down, you realize the hand around your throat isn’t squeezing. It’s cradling if anything. The fingers around your wrist aren’t holding firm anymore, but instead dancing around the sensitive skin. Riddick presses his nose into your neck and breathes deeply before moving his hand from your wrist to your hips. Using light pressure on your neck and a hard push on your hips, he drags you back along his lap, seating your ass on his crotch and pressing every inch of your back to him. There’s a sharp hiss of breath through your nose when you feel a rising hardness beneath you.

“I never thanked you.” You can feel his deep voice through his chest on your back. His hand slips off your neck and to your collar bone as his fingers at your hip slowly start to play with the waistband of your pants.  

“You didn’t kill me.” Your voice is not nearly as steady as you hoped. His nose traces up your neck and you find yourself titling your head, letting him press behind your ear and travel back down again.  

“That doesn’t seem like much of a thank you, does it?” he whispers darkly into your ear. “I think you deserve something a little more than that.” Another hiss of breath as his fingers pop open the button of your pants. Your hand instinctively darts out to stop him. He lets out a breathy laugh into the juncture of your neck, but his hand does still beneath yours.  

You try to think, to weigh your options, but your mind is thick and foggy and Riddick’s mouth is opening against your skin. His teeth graze over you before his tongue gently licks at the heat on your neck. You repress a soft moan and your grip on his hand loosens. He takes your moment of haze to slip his knees between yours. With one swift motion, he uses his own knees to pull yours apart, spreading your legs and causing you to groan. He lets out a sigh as though he’s received some sort of relief through this.

“You have no idea how fucking good you smell,” he groans. None of this should turn you on. The cold-blooded killer telling you how you smell. The way he has you pinned open for him. The way his fingers are moving again to undo your pants. And yet, the only reason your thighs clench is because your body is desperate for friction.  

Your hand rests on his wrist, no longer trying to stop him. You just need to touch him. Your other arm reaches up and behind you, your fingers gripping at the back of Riddick’s neck, pulling him closer. His lips are on the column of your throat again, sucking and licking at the thin, sensitive skin. Taking your moan as permission, his hand slides into your pants. He doesn’t bother playing with you through your panties and slips inside of them too, fingers going straight for your hot, bare center. Your fingers tighten around the back of his neck as his slip through your folds, back and forth, reveling in the feeling of your slick.

“So wet,” he mutters into your throat. “Such a pretty little pussy.” Your eyes close and focus on the heat building in you, the ache to feel something inside. The hand at your collarbone glides down into the neck of your shirt and again bypasses your undergarments. He cups your breast in his palm, gently squeezing before pinching your nipple. “I know how bad you’ve wanted it,” he tells you. “Walking around smelling like a bitch in heat.” Your hips involuntarily thrust forward, trying to encourage his fingers to push into you. He chuckles and uses his arm wrapped around your side to bring you back. “So needy.”

When he pulls you back, you feel his cock underneath you and without thinking, you grind down onto him. His hands still for a fraction of a moment and you swear you feel his hips threaten to push up to meet you. You take the moment and gather all the boldness you have left in you.

“Feels like I’m not the only one,” you tease, your throat dry and voice raspy. You grind down into him again and his fingers dig into your breast. You pull your neck from his mouth and crane to look over your shoulder at him. “Tell me you haven’t wanted it too.” You can’t see his eyes through the blackness of his goggles, but his lips are pressed together and they twitch when you press into his cock. You open your mouth to say something more, but his knees press on the insides of your legs, opening them up further and thrusts two fingers inside of you. He smiles at the way you groan and let your head fall back onto his shoulder.  

His fingers are thick and strong, angling to reach deeply inside of you. Your body melts under his touch, your hands losing their grip on him entirely. He pushes his fingers into your only a few times, torturously slowly, and then holds them still, fingertips hovering just outside. You let out a quiet whimper.  

“Take what you want,” he tells you, that black amusement filling his tone. Your hips move forward, but ultimately hesitate. “C’mon,” he encourages, voice coming down to a whisper as his fingers tease you. “Ride my hand.” It’s a command this time, one you’re obliged to follow. You rock your hips forward to his unmoving fingers and let them sink back into you. Your breaths are short and shallow as you bit back moans, slowly shifting your hips back and forth on him. “Fuck yourself on my fingers. Let me feel you make yourself cum.” You shift your hips and slip your hand underneath, palming at his cock. His hand is out of your shirt instantly, grabbing harshly at your wrist. “Uh-uh,” he scolds, pulling your hand back out and away from him. You huff in frustration. “Did I say you could do that?” You whimper again, soft and quiet before resuming your thrusts. “Good girl,” he purrs.  

You give in to him, focus on your own pleasure like he wants. He keeps whispering dirty encouragement in your ear, holding you upright as you push your hips back and forth on his fingers. He curls his fingers in you, reaching a place high within you that makes your whole core shake. You can feel him smirk against you and does it again.  

“Riddick,” you moan. There’s an implication of a request in there, verging on begging.

“What?” He curls his fingers again. “What do you want?” He takes your earlobe between his teeth and shivers cascade down your spine. You try to speak, but all that comes out is a choked sound. “What was that?” he teases. “Do you want something?”

“More. Please.”

“I do love hearing you beg.” The next time you pull away from his fingers, he offers a third for you take. You push forward more slowly this time, eyes rolling back into your head. You bite your lip, still trying to withhold your sounds of pleasure from him. “That’s it,” he coos. “Take it all.” He slowly starts moving his hand to meet your thrusts again. “Such a pretty little thing writhing on my hand like that.” He presses his palm against your clit. “Bet you’d look even better on my dick.” The very thought sends mini shockwaves through you and you arch into his hand. “Tight, wet pussy stretched around my dick.”  

“Riddick,” you pant, trying to warn him about how close you are.  

“Do it.” He forces his fingers deeper inside of you and circles his palm over your clit harder. “Cum on my fingers. Let me feel it.”  

“Fuck,” you curse, your body starting to tense up. You’re on the edge, can feel yourself ready to go over. When he barely contains a groan in your ear and his hips involuntarily thrust up, his own pleasure rising into him, that’s when the coil in you snaps.  

With a hiss, your whole body clenches and releases all at once. You can hear him breathe deeply underneath your moans and his body tenses beneath you, controlling himself. Your orgasm is a wave that washes over you and tries to drown you, blacking out your vision and dragging you down into a dark bliss. The only thing that pulls you back, is Riddick’s voice rumbling against your back.  

“Good girl,” he says, holding onto you as you come back to him. You wince as he slowly pulls his fingers from you and out of your pants. You let your head fall back onto his shoulder again and when you hear him sucking, you open your eyes to see him licking your slick off of his fingers. He hums pleasantly. “Taste as good as you smell.” You let out an airy laugh and look away.

“Do I need to worry about you eating me when I sleep?” You mean it in the creepy way, in the peel your flesh from your bones, murder kind of way. He twists it though, pushes his still hard dick against you.

“You’d like it,” he assures with a dirty smile. He gives your thigh a quick slap. “Now get up.”

Your muscles are weak and your thighs shake as he finally lets your knees out of his hold. As you stand, you realize you’ve soaked through your panties and your pants, leaving a wet spot that’s sticky and starting to cool. When you turn to face Riddick, you’re unsurprised, but still slightly embarrassed to see that it was enough to leave a wet spot on his crotch too.

He looks so content and pleased with himself and if it wasn’t for the bulge in his pants, you’d think this is the most comfortable you’ve seen him. You find yourself staring a little too long and shuft your weight on your feet, trying to seem casual.

“I could help with that,” you say, trying to hide the desire that’s swelling back up inside of you. He chuckles.  

“I’m good,” he says coolly. “That was your thank you.” You bite your lip and nod carefully.

“Remind me to save you more often,” you joke lightly, pleasantly surprised to see he’s amused by it. You decide to try one last time. “Or maybe there’s something I can thank you for.” You wish you could see his eyes, maybe get a hint as to what he’s thinking. He slowly stands up, reminding you just how strong he is, how tall and powerful he is as he practically glides to his feet. He approaches you, stalking into the space between you and tilts his head ever so slightly.

“You couldn’t handle me,” he warns. He reaches up and you have to resist that instinct to stop him again. His finger plays with a few strands of your hair idly. “I’d tear you apart.” Shit like that is supposed to terrify you. Instead, you actually lean into him and put your hands at his waistband.

“I can take it,” you tell him breathlessly, heart already starting to speed back up, body thrumming and nearly ready to go all over again. He scoffs and looks away from you for a moment.  

“I don’t think so.” When he steps back, puts space between you, it feels like cold water rushing over you. Disappointment and emptiness fill the void and if it wasn’t for the way his touch lingered in your hair or the way he bit his lip, you’d feel rejection too. “You have a ship to steer,” he tells you. The teeth on his lip, the bulge still in his pants, the way little swagger in his step as he steps away all tell you he’s still playing a game. One that you are all too happy to keep up with.

“Yes, sir,” you tease, allowing him to walk out of the cockpit with no further argument.  

This is far from over.

[kindofwriter]

Hello Skyjacks fandom, may I please introduce you to my favourite thing to do: turn RPG scenes I love into TV scripts. I’ve never done a scene that doesn’t have fluid dialogue before, so this is more of an edit, but aah! Flashbacks, my beloved! From ep 15.

Transcript under the cut:

INT. TAVERN. DAY.

TRAVIS' footsteps echo as he picks his way around upturned tables and towards the bar. JONNIT and GABLE remain by the door.

TRAVIS pauses and lifts up an overturned tankard. He tilts it, and a few dregs drip to the floor.

TRAVIS: Well, we might be able to at least scavenge something.

TRAVIS: Well, we might be able to at least scavenge something.

GABLE: I think our best bet is probably to find the warehouse. Get as many supplies as we can to get us to the next port, then try and trade there.

TRAVIS has reached the bar at this point. He hops over it, then begins inspecting bottles.

TRAVIS: Guess I'll start here.

GABLE makes a move towards the bar. JONNIT stumbles after them.

GABLE: Trav- Hey! This isn't the warehouse!

TRAVIS picks up a tall glass bottle, flips it in the air and catches it again, then begins to pour it into a whiskey-sized glass he found behind the bar. He is beginning to make a Maelstrom.

TRAVIS: Can I get you anything?

GABLE stops just before the bar, JONNIT beside them. They pause for a second, look to JONNIT, then sit.

GABLE: You know what? What the hell. Uh, what do they have back there?

JONNIT tentatively sits beside GABLE.

TRAVIS: Well, uh, do you have a signature drink?

GABLE: No.

A smirk, softer than usual, spreads across TRAVIS' face.

TRAVIS: Would you like one?

GABLE: Uuh...

His own drink poured, TRAVIS begins to mix something for GABLE.

TRAVIS: Jonnit, would you like something?

JONNIT: Uuh, I'll take a pickle?

With his back to his companions, TRAVIS gives another small smile. He turns.

TRAVIS (with a jovial eye-roll): Well, there's the jar.

TRAVIS slides a large jar of pickles down the bar at JONNIT. JONNIT opens it, grabs a pickle, then fidgets in his seat for a moment.

JONNIT: Hey Gable? This is kinda maybe something for a little later, but-

TRAVIS pours something into GABLE's glass that makes the clear liquid begin to smoke. He grabs a shot glass and begins pouring something into it.

JONNIT; I was wondering, when we get back in the air, this thing-

JONNIT gestures to his forehead.

JONNIT: Has been on my mind a lot, and, uh, I just wanted to know: would you maybe be interested in  helping me figure out what it is, how to use it? I feel like it's, it's special. And I wanna be able to call on it when I want, but I don't know how. And it's sometimes a little scary.

TRAVIS sets the shot glass in front of GABLE - it's filled with blood red liquid - then grabs another bottle.

GABLE: Jonnit, from what I've seen you're capable of some incredible things. Things that I know are frightening to you, and I know you have a desire to control. But those things are quite unique to you. As far as I know, perhaps it's divine magic, but it's nothing I've ever encountered. When it comes to magic  the most powerful thing I've found you can do is to allow yourself to do it.

JONNIT: To just... let it happen?

TRAVIS places the smoking glass before GABLE and picks up his own drink. JONNIT and GABLE pause their conversation to look at him.

TRAVIS: To letting ourselves be ourselves from time to time. Even if it is a little painful.

GABLE: Take flight.

JONNIT: Take flight.

TRAVIS: Take flight.

JONNIT crunches down on his pickle. GABLE takes a sip. TRAVIS watches them over the rim of his own glass.

GABLE: This is delicious! It's not often we get to.. have fun?

As TRAVIS downs his drink, GABLE turns back to JONNIT.

GABLE: Just, don't be afraid of it, is what I mean.

JONNIT: I feel like that just ends up with me waiting around for it to happen, and it happens when it wants to, and I feel like I want it to happen when I want it to.

GABLE: You feel that it controls you?

TRAVIS sets his now empty glass down on the bar. He pokes about a little, finds some peanuts and chucks a couple into his mouth.

JONNIT: Yeah. I wanna be in control.

GABLE: That's wise. I'm not sure how much I can help-

JONNIT's shoulders droop, and he tries really hard not to let the disappointment show on his face. To hide it, he takes a bite of the pickle.

GABLE: But I can show you how I do my thing.

JONNIT: Yeah, uh, that'd be great. Thanks, Gable.

TRAVIS wanders out from behind the bar, winding around tables, clearly looking to see if anyone has dropped anything. He reaches a corner, tucked away behind a support beam, where there is a small, square table for playing Illimat. 

TRAVIS runs his fingers over the grain and a slightly glazed look overtakes his face. He begins to take a seat and-

CUT TO:

INT. BAR. DUSK.

The exact same place, only now it's bustling. A shanty plays in the background. The scene is packed with characters. Out the window we can see, across a fog-less mountain top, the sun is preparing to set. 

TRAVIS is sitting in the exact same seat we just saw him drop into, but he looks different. Same coat, but it's newer, better maintained. There's a softness to his face and a lightness to his eyes that we haven't seen before. He looks younger, though of course he isn't.

Across from TRAVIS is sat a burly man with curls pulled back into a ponytail. The two have almost finished playing a game of Illimat.

TRAVIS makes a move, and the crowd that have gathered around them cheer - it looks like he's going to win. The sly look TRAVIS gives his competitor confirms this.

With a flick of his wrist, the COMPETITOR plays his card, and the crowd goes wild. He crosses his arms and leans back, smirking at TRAVIS.

For a moment TRAVIS looks confused, then he begins to reach across the table.

TRAVIS: You cheated!

COMPETITOR (rumbling: )Didn't take you for a sore loser.

TRAVIS: That was the only card you could have possibly played to win. The odds are impossible.

COMPETITOR: Guess fate was just on my side.

That gets TRAVIS' hackles up.

TRAVIS: No, that card was already in the harvest pile, I saw it!

As TRAVIS reaches for the deck a knife is thrown down, pinning the cards to the table.

COMPETITOR: Oi!

The COMPETITOR rises, looming over TRAVIS, who also quickly jumps to his feet.

COMPETITOR: That's not the way we play here.

The energy in the crowd has changed now. People are tense, anticipating a fight.

TRAVIS tries to respond to the man, but instead he bares his teeth, a short, sharp growl emitting from his throat. We see panic flare in TRAVIS' eyes as he notices the sun through the window behind the man's head: it's setting.

The COMPETITOR took this to be a sign of aggression and lunges for TRAVIS. TRAVIS winces, but before any damage can be done two other patrons have grabbed hold of the man. They begin to drag him from the table, mumbling that he's drunk and should head home, not worth it over a visitor etc.

The COMPETITOR reaches to grab something from the table - the money, TRAVIS assumes, and also starts reaching for it. However all he does is scoop a small snuff box up and shove it into his pocket.

People begin to move in towards TRAVIS, asking if he's alright, where he's staying, congratulating him on his skill. TRAVIS ignores them, covering his mouth with one hand as we hear the loud and painful snapping and twisting of his jaw.

With his other hand he scoops up what should have been the winnings and slinks out the door.

CUT TO:

EXT. TAVERN. DUSK.

Now lifting his cravat to cover his mouth, TRAVIS exits the tavern and starts to turn, aiming to slink down an alleyway. Before he does, however, his eyes are drawn to a commotion just past the warehouse. The COMPETITOR is still being guided away, into a bunk house down the street.

CUT TO:

EXT. TAVERN. DAY.

TRAVIS is stood outside the door in the exact same position, looking to the bunk house. Now, however, the tavern is dark and cold.He starts to walk towards the bunk house.

GABLE and JONNIT emerge, clearly confused.

GABLE (hissed): Travis?

JONNIT (whispered): Travis?

We pan out in order to see TRAVIS walking towards the bunk house and GABLE and JONNIT at the door simultaneously.

GABLE (slightly louder): Travis?

JONNIT (normal volume): Travis?

GABLE (yelling slightly); Travis!

JONNIT + GABLE: Travis!

TRAVIS continues to ignore them, having almost reached the door to the bunk house now.

GABLE shrugs to JONNIT.

GABLE: Well, I guess we don't need to go to the same place. Do you wanna go to the warehouse?

JONNIT nods and the pair set off.

CUT TO:

INT. BUNK HOUSE. DAY.

TRAVIS is just pushing open the door to the reception area. There are chairs and tables littered about - untidy, but not in disarray as the tavern had been. It's deadly silent.

Faint light filters in through the windows, but with the thick fog it does little to illuminate the room. TRAVIS reaches up and lights an oil lamp that hangs beside his head. It looks as if he lights it with his finger, but as he reaches to take the oil lamp down we see him palm a lighter.

Taking the lamp with him, TRAVIS makes his way down a corridor at the back of the room, lined on either side with doors. He pushes the first one he comes to, and it opens onto a set of bunks. The beds are unmade and there are a few belongings scattered about, but nothing that suggests a struggle.

We see TRAVIS continue down the corridor, pushing a few more doors, until suddenly he stops.

On the floor of this room, slightly tucked beneath a bunk, is a brass Illimat box, the one the COMPETITOR had laid on the table. The lid has been lost or removed.

TRAVIS crouches and reaches inside, lifting out a small snuff box. He closes his eyes, letting out a soft, slow breath. As he stands he pockets the snuff box, turning on his heel, only to stop in his tracks again. 

We pan round until we can see the back of the door. Etched into it, in thin, jagged letters, is the words 'IT IS TIME!'

TRAVIS pushes the door open and hurries out of the room, back towards the entrance.

[shorkbrian]

Ahh okay I'm a hoe for Hawks so can I get a scenario where he and reader are friends but she's been secretly seeing someone and didn't tell him because they were keeping their relationship a secret and he's pissed when he finally makes his move and she confesses she's seeing someone and he just snaps

I'm a hoe too it’s okay bro 😘

but man oh man  (NSFW/noncon warning)

You guys are best pals! You were always getting picked on in highschool and Keigo was always there to defend you, chase off your bullies and dust you off.

He’s always been there for you, and you’ve always been there for him.

You indulge his weird fried chicken obsession, hang out with him by just being in the same room, on your phone or reading a book when he’s too tired from work to talk or watch a movie.

He’s an extrovert, gets energy by being around people, so when he’s left alone, Keigo gets... well, sad. Even if you aren’t doing anything but sitting there tapping away on your phone, Keigo feels better with you near.

When both of you have days off at the same time, you try to go and do fun stuff, like shopping or cafe hopping. Once you took Keigo to a dog park, and the two of you had spent the whole day playing with dogs, talking to the owners - Keigo noted that as the best day ever.

And of course, your family and your other friends always tried to make your friendship into something it wasn’t. Always nudging you if you mentioned Keigo, telling you he’s a catch and you should snatch him up before anyone else does.

But you two are just friends, always have been. 

You like your relationship with the blonde man, the camaraderie and goofing off and staying up late and eating junk food while binge watching shitty TV.

Why change something if it was perfect the way it was?

Keigo could be a little.... intense sometimes. When playing video games, when racing you across the park to the ice cream truck, puffing up and barking back at the men who dared catcall you in is presence, always scaring off anyone who tried to flirt with you or make casual conversation.

But it was okay, you knew he was just scared of loosing his friend.

So that’s why you kept your new, barely budding relationship a secret.

The man was a coworker of yours, had been nice and friendly and the perfect gentleman, really made you laugh with his stupid little puns. The two of you started off slow, let things develop naturally, and before you knew it, months had flown by and you were celebrating your first anniversary.

Kiego was none the wiser.

You felt bad keeping such an important aspect of your life from the man. At first it had been simply so he couldn't scare off your suitor with threats, but by now the lie had gone on for so long that it would just be awkward to tell him. You knew you would have to eventually. But Keigo would be supportive, right?

Of course the man noticed your increasing absence, how you weren’t down to hangout at any and all times. Keigo noticed how you seemed to be on your phone more often, smiling and biting your lip as you texted with your friends.

But you were sure you were doing a good job of keeping your boyfriend on the down low, safe from Kiego’s protective nature over you.

Until Kiego asked you out on a date.

The two of you both had a free Saturday, and Kiego had convinced you to come hang out with him by means of sad puppy eyes, whining, and a bit of pouting. There was a walk to the park, a stop at the ice cream truck, and then off to the dog park.

It was when you were both sitting on a bench watching dogs run and play as you ate ice cream, did Kiego start his confession.

Your stomach dropped.

He said he had probably always been in love with you, just didn’t know what the feeling was. He felt safe with you, comfortable, as if everything was right in the world and even when the world wasn’t right, it’s was going to be okay because you were there.

He loved you.

Kiego went in for a kiss, hesitating when you turned your head, stuttering out apologies.

When you shyly admitted you were already seeing someone, it was Keigo’s turn for his stomach to drop.

Anger rose, hurt, betrayal. Why hadn’t you told Keigo? He was you best friend, and you kept your boyfriend a secret? Why?

He wanted to eave you there in the park, tears beginning to prickle in the corners of his eyes. But Keigo took a deep breath, calmed himself. Asked if you could go back to his apartment and talk about this, share all the juicy details of your boyfriend. He couldn’t believe you hadn’t told him!

And you were smiling, cause everything was okay again and thank goodness Keigo wasn’t mad at you!

Except he was.

And when you got back to his apartment, it showed.

You were pinned against the wall, his hand against your throat while he growled about trust and love and being there for each other.  His face was pinched in a scowl, his body pressing you further and further until he was plastered against you, and you had nowhere to go, nowhere to look except for up into his eyes.

You were frightened.

You should be.

Kiego couldn’t think straight, was angry at you, angry at himself for not realizing that you had slipped away from him and snagged yourself a boyfriend that wasn’t him. Keigo was angry at your boyfriend, for laying hands on your, for stealing you away. 

He would have to steal you back, show that other idiot who’s boss.

By the time he manages to drag you to the bedroom, your neck is dark with red hickies, bite marks, wet with saliva. You were yelling for him to stop, friends don’t do this!

But he wasn’t your friend.

He made you get down on your knees, fucked your face until your were crying and snot and tears were running down your chin and you could barely see straight.

Keigo came all over your face, crouching down to rub his cum into your skin, hissing about how you were his, no one else’s. He had been there for you, he was the only person you needed.

And then he hauled you up and onto the bed, manhandling you and batting away your hands as you tried to fight him. But he was so much stronger than you.

The man pulled off your clothes, slapping you hard in the face when you tried to scream, before stuffing his fingers down your throat and threatening to strangle you if you didn’t shut up.

Keigo didn’t care about being gentle. His fingers were rough as he fucked them into you, uncaring of the stretch or the burn that made you whimper with pain. He made you squirt like that, pounding his fingers hard against your G-spot while whispering dirty fantasies in your ear, everything he’s ever wanted to do to you but never had the courage.

By the time you calm down from your orgasm, Keigo’s thrusting into you, groaning into your ear, babbling about how perfect you are, just for him, only for him.

It’s impossible to do anything but cry, you could barely even think with the way his hips were rabbiting into you, his cock hitting deep inside. You felt betrayed, your chest felt tight. Your face was sticky, your vision blurry, Keigo filling the moment, growling in your ear, slapping at your clit, pinching your tits as he roughly fucked you.

He was going to prove a point.

You were made for him, you were his girl, and he got to do whatever he wanted. He didn’t care that you were crying, you had been such a bad girl recently. And this wasn’t even your punishment for lying to him

That would come later

[whatislove-bambi]

Oops... (I Love You)!

Snow White AU

Summary: Taehyung is the fairest of them all in the Land of Fairytales. He’s tall, handsome and his features make even the Goddess of Love swoon. His best friend (his mirror), tells him day in and out just how he is the most beautiful in all the Lands… until today.

+++

Or how Seokjin has had enough of Taehyung’s vain ass and decides to tell a - in hindsight - terrible lie. How then Jin realizes he effed up because Taehyung is going to murder an innocent person for their beauty…

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Pairing: Taehyung/Reader

Genre: angst, fantasy, fluff, crack?, smut

Contents/Warnings: smut!, strangers to lovers, enemies(?) to lovers, magic gone wrong, Big Dick Tae, evil!Tae, lowkey possessive!Tae, impregnation kink, soft!Tae, cunnilingus, fingering, breath play, dry humping, unprotected sex, creampie, cum play (tiny), underwear kink, huge amounts of cum, fairytale happenings

Words: 19k. 

_______________________________________________

We begin our story in the Land of Fairytales.

The land is rich with green and wealth, the inhabitants healthy and happy. Their ruler is a beautiful one. Tall, handsome, features chiseled so well that even the Gods and Goddess’ swoon when they see him.

His name is Kim Taehyung, the sole heir to the throne by his passing parents, the previous King and Queen of the land. You see, before they passed, they had urged him to find a suitable lover to marry, but Taehyung was stubborn. No one could meet his expectations - no one could rival his beauty. And so, his parents eventually gave up the notion of their son ever marrying, leaving him the only ruler and heir of the kingdom.

Taehyung didn’t have many friends either, always looking down on them and barking orders when neighbouring princes or princesses tried to make his cold heart melt.

Nonetheless, this did not faze Taehyung. All he needed was himself, his beauty, and his magic mirror.

But like every fairytale, we begin happily only to come upon a conflict for our handsome ruler.

+++

The room was white: walls, ceiling, even the stained glass only filtered in light that made the room brighter — whiter.

Taehyung walked up the steps leading him to his most prized and loved object of all.

Seeing his face reflected back at him, he smirked cockily before speaking, “oh mirror of great wisdom and insight, I summon thee!”

Alright, here we go.

Jin wasn’t sure how long it’s been since he’s been cursed. Cursed to be a stupid mirror… or stuck inside one. Anyways.  

Sighing, his face appeared in the reflective surface, meeting the gaze of his only companion in all the years he’s been isolated - until precisely some years ago, when Taehyung was exploring a cave and found Jin’s mirror hidden away with other jewels and gold. But the young heir only had eyes for him, so he plucked him up and now here he hangs, alone and covered in bright light until he is needed or summoned for the King’s daily dose of narcissism.

“Yes, O’ Great One, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Jin asks, sarcasm heavily lacing his tone.

Taehyung lifts a thick eyebrow, but makes no remarks. “How is that nearby Prince doing?”

“You mean Prince Jimin?”

“Yes, that prick.”

Jin scoffs. “He isn’t a prick. He’s a real nice guy, gave a bunch of money to a poor village down by the Island of the Mere.”

Taehyung wasn’t even listening - this brat!

Said King, was examining his nails, a bored expression on his handsome face. God, how Jin could stare all day at it and still want to claw his eyes out at the same time.

“Ahem,” Jin hisses, narrowing his eyes at the younger man.

Taehyung flicked his gaze upward disinterestedly. Running a hand through his newly permed, black locks, he rotated his shoulder blades back to release tension in his muscles. “Right. So… mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”

Jin crossed his arms, his patience thinning. Okay, so he was cursed like lifetimes ago and was trapped inside a mirror. He only had his own thoughts to keep him company until someone found his mirror and someone always found it. But once Jin appeared to greet them, they all freaked out and threw his mirror back in the trash. Until Taehyung. Which is why he tries to have never-ending patience and tolerance for this punk.

Taehyung had found him before the previous Royal rulers’ passing. He was still young, still cocky, but there was something sad and melancholic to him. He was exploring and upon finding the mirror, Taehyung fell in love and decided to keep it. When Jin appeared to him, Taehyung didn’t scream or run or throw the mirror out, instead, he sat down and talked with him. The first person to speak to Jin in years - lifetimes.

So while Jin finds certain personality quirks of the present King to be irritating, he is also fond of the poor man. After all, it must be pretty awful to be trapped within the castle walls, refusing to let down both his, figurative and actual walls and live life; only believing himself to be the most wonderful of them all.

“Are you deaf? I asked you a question,” Taehyung snaps.

Jin’s smile slips and he feels annoyance bubble.

Okay, screw it, fucking Kim Taehyung.

“What was your question again—“

“Who is the fairest of them all?” Taehyung cuts off bluntly.

Jin takes a deep breath, unable to hide his growing frustration. Technically there is no one who is fairest of them all. Sure, fair there are plenty, but the only one? That’s crazy talk! And Jin is stuck in a goddamn’ mirror! How he wishes to be able to make said man’s facade break - even for a moment…

An idea flashes into his mind and he grins deviously.

Clearing his throat, he puts on his best theatric voice. “Famed is thy beauty, King. But hold, a lovely maid I see. Rags cannot hide her gentle grace. Alas,” Jin searches until finally, finally he finds the perfect one for his perfect plan. “she is more fair than thee.”

It is so satisfying to see Taehyung’s stoic face crack. Something flickers in his eyes, his lips curling downwards in distaste and he crosses his arms like a petulant child.

Jin brings a hand over his mouth to cover the smile from forming. This is the best prank yet!

“Alas for her,” Taehyung all but growls, his deep voice suddenly deeper. “Reveal her name.”

Jin clears his throat, putting forth the act once more. “Lips red as rose. Hair black as ebony. Skin white as snow. Her name is Y/N.”

Taehyung’s gaze hardens if possible. “Who is she?”

Jin waves his hand nonchalantly and the image appears before the King.

Okay, her lips are not red as rose, in fact, they’re kinda chapped from how she keeps biting them in frustration, trying to scrub a stain off a dirtied plate. Her dark hair is pulled up and her skin is glistening with sweat and washing water, nowhere near as white as snow. But she’ll do - at least until Jin can tell Taehyung it’s just a silly joke and that she’s a peasant who doesn’t mean much.

She’s young, likely around Taehyung’s age, but unlike the royal highness’ luxurious beauty, she’s got her arms, elbow-deep, inside a wash basin, cleaning up dirty plates, the dirty water splashing onto her soiled apron.

Really, if Taehyung was smart, he’d notice she’s nothing like what Jin had said. But Taehyung is blinded by rage, something that Jin misses.

A moment of tense silence passes before —

“T-this wench is the fairest of them all?!” Taehyung roars.

Jin jumps. Oh wait, shit, why is he so mad?

“I will have her murdered.”

Jin’s jaw drops, unable to hold his horror. “W-wait, Your Majesty - I - this —“

But Taehyung has already turned, his deep blue robes swirling around him as he angrily marches out of the room, the heavy doors slamming shut behind him.

Jin stares, unable to understand what truly just happened. “Oh… what have I done?”

***

Sighing, you place the last of the clean dishes back on their shelves, taking off the disgusting apron and throwing it in the dirty hamper.

“You off for the night, Y/N?” your coworker asks, untying her apron hurriedly.

“Mhm, too tired to do anything else.”

“Wish I could say the same. I have to get home to the kids - the husband will want some quality time together after dinner.”

You chuckle, helping her untie and toss the soiled piece into the hamper as well.

“That sounds like fun.”

“Which is why you, my dear, should get yourself a husband already! The oven doesn’t stay hot forever you know! Get the buns in there while it’s still fresh.”

Your face burns at the comment and you swat at her arm. “Stop it,” you whine.

“Come, let’s walk home together.”

Despite still being embarrassed, you let her drag you from the tiny tavern, bidding your boss goodnight.

***

Stepping out of the tub, you run a towel through your damp hair, your other hand reaching up to swipe a line through the steam in your mirror.

“Which is why you, my dear, should find yourself a husband already!”

You make a face, grabbing a nearby hairbrush to get the knots out. “Who needs a husband,” you mumble. “Men are all trouble…”

“Amen to that, my dear.”

Suddenly, a face appears in your mirror. A handsome face. With eyes that glisten and a smile that should get a million hearts fluttering, but you - you are terrified.

“Holy shit!” you scream, shooting backwards, as far away as you can from the cursed object. You throw your brush at it, watching it bounce off the glass, before searching for something heavier.

“W-WAIT! Wait!” the man shouts, from your mirror. “I come in peace!”

You grip the towel around you tightly, staring at the face before you, your heart thundering.

“Let me not be so in your face,” he chuckles at his own joke, before suddenly, it’s like camera lens, his face is now zoomed out and you see the rest of him. He’s wearing clothes that look royal, a white button-up tucked into dark slacks. “Much better. My name is Seokjin, but you can call me Jin. I am here to protect you—“

“Who the hell are you,” you continue to scream, grabbing the dropped hairbrush as your defensive weapon. “What are you doing in my mirror!?”

Jin frowns at you, clearly annoyed at you interrupting him. “First of all - I said my name is Jin. Jeez, youngsters these days just don’t listen,” he mumbles annoyedly. “Secondly, I can explain that if you just calm down… okay? Just put down the hair tool… there, you go, now take a few deep breaths…”

You do as you’re told before you step cautiously towards the mirror.

“I am here to help you - kind of like a guardian angel. You see, the King of this Land, he’s enraged with you.”

You tilt your head, frowning. “Why? I’ve never even met the guy. Ever since his parent’s passing, he’s been cooped up inside his luxurious castle. He doesn’t even show his face at the annual festivals - how could I have enraged him?”

“The King is very… adamant on being the most fairest of them all. And someone,” Jin clears his throat. “Let it slip that it’s you. So he’s going to murder you now.”

Your eyes widen and Jin paces in his space, a pensive look on his face. “But I searched throughout the Land and there’s a cabin not too far from here, uninhabited and spacious enough for you. You could farm the nearby crops, survive there until the King’s delusions are set aside and then—“

A sound cuts Jin off, making his head snap to the side.

Your head is bent forward, face hidden from view. Your shoulders shake and tiny chokes leave you.

Were you crying? Panic seized his heart suddenly.

“L-Listen — I know it looks bad, but I assure you, I will keep you safe—“

Until the noise turned into a snort and then a full on guffaw.

“Oh by the gods,” you gasp, breathlessly. “I’m so tired, I’m imagining things. A talking mirror, the King wanting to murder me - for being the most beautiful in the Land? Ha! This is — it’s crazy! Come on, Y/N, you are so tired that you’re making all this stuff up. Just crazy.”

Jin stares in bewilderment as you leave your bathroom, the door slamming shut behind you, shrouding him in darkness. “Wait! Y/N! Y/N! This isn’t a joke - you’re going to die! He’s got a huntsman coming to kill you!”

You huff, quickly drying your damp hair and drowning out your delusions. “Don’t you worry, Y/N, after a good night’s sleep, you’ll be back to normal.”

And with that thought, you jumped into bed and slept soundly soon after.

+++

You arrived at work a little earlier since you were opening the tavern. Slipping into your uniform easily, you start unstacking the chairs, before grabbing a rag to wipe down any uncleanly surfaces.

First the counter, then polishing overnight glasses, pairing cutlery and napkins, all the while, humming around the room. Your last task is to wipe down the mirrors in the diner’s restroom, catching a glimpse of your reflection now that you were almost done your morning tasks.

You hadn’t thought about last night’s events at all, at least not until now. Your reflection shoots back a smile and you chuckle. Who knew you had such an imagination?

“He’s got a huntsman coming to kill you!” Jin’s voice echoed in your head, freezing your smile in its place.

Snapping out of your reverie, you shake your head, giving yourself a reassuring nod. “Don’t be silly, Y/N. The King would want nothing with a peasant…” You sigh forlornly, your reflection no longer beaming back at you. You wanted more from this life - more than just a measly wage from wiping down tables and serving drunk pirates or hidden princes and princesses who thought their disguises were actually stealthy.  

Sighing, you turn around, ready to leave the restroom. Not everyone got a fairytale ending, you think bitterly.

However, you fail to notice a pair of eyes watching you.

***

It’s not long after that, that your colleague of the morning shows up, waving you a tired hand as they go to start filling up the alcohol.

Shortly after turning over the sign to “OPEN,” people start entering. It’s a bustling morning, like it usually is.

“Y/N, drinks for the miner!”

“More meat over here!”

“How’ya doin’ doll?”  

“Refills, Y/N!”

The day never stopped. You groaned as you handed out your umpteenth food plate of the morning and poured your millionth cup of stale beer. Sparing a glance at the clock, your eyes lit up. It was break time.

Waving three fingers in the air at the barkeeper, the woman nodded in acknowledgement, before you grabbed something to drink and eat, taking a table closest to the back of the tavern. Here it was less crowded and more quiet, letting you have some alone time.

You take a seat and watch the people around.

Your life was rarely different, always the same things. You wake up, go to work, come home, make dinner, clean, go to sleep. Repeat.

Unconsciously frowning, you stir the straw in your drink. Life was, for a lack of better word, mundane. You didn’t have many friends, just a select few and all from work. They were either much older or younger and no one really near or around your age.

I need some adventure, you think, propping your chin on your hand as you look out the window at the bustling streets.

Suddenly, someone slides into the seat across from you. You stop slurping and stare, eyes wide with surprise.

“Hello,” the newcomer grins, brown hair tousled ever-so-slightly over large, doe-like eyes. He’s grinning at you, looking boyish and handsome.

You blink owlishly, pointing at yourself. “Are you talking to me?”

“Who else would I be talking to?” he laughs.

“Oh - if you’re looking for a waitress, I’m on a break. But the other girls can help you,” you supply. You already regretting talking to him. You only have fifteen minutes every three hours and you didn’t want to waste it on this, no matter how good looking he is.

“Actually,” he begins, his grin faltering as he rubs the back of his neck. “I wanted to talk to you, personally. My name’s JK and I think you’re really pretty… do you, um, maybe want to go out sometime?”

Now, you’ve been asked out a couple times before - but certainly never from someone so attractive. Definitely not someone this polite and gentle in courting you. Your mind is reeling at the confession and you just stare at him, speechless.

“M-me?” you ask again, your voice coming out in a whisper.

He laughs, this time showing his teeth and you like his smile. “Yes. I mean, don’t feel pressured to. I just… you’re really pretty and I’m insanely shy so…”

“Sure!” You blurt, before you begin to second-guess and doubt yourself. Your heart flips at the way JK’s smile lights up even more.  

“When’s a good time for you?”

“I, uh, well… I don’t get off until tonight. Actually, I’m working all week,” you frown, rattling off the schedule in your head.

“How ‘bout tonight?”

That catches you by surprise. “Tonight?”

“Yeah! If it’s not too forward…”

Well… it is. But weren’t you just complaining about adventure earlier? I mean - come on, this guy’s cute! And he likes you!!

Taking a leap of faith, you give in. “Sure! I’m closing the tavern tonight,” you nervously fiddle with your fingers. “Would you be alright to meet me at the back?”

JK chuckles, leaning back and tossing you another boyish smile. “Are you kidding? A girl like you just said yes - of course, I’m not going to care.”

Now, if you were smart and cautious, you would know it doesn’t make sense that a random stranger just came up to you and asked you out abruptly. But you’ve been alone your whole life and no one to teach you about the evils in this world - naivety rolled off of you in waves. You wanted adventure - damn’t! And adventure you were going to get!

“I will see you when the sun sets!”

JK grins, his doe eyes flashing almost predatorily. “Of course, Y/N.”

You beam, going back to your drink with a bright smile while JK waves at you as he leaves the tavern.

You miss two things: one, he never even ordered anything on his way in or out.

Two, you never told him your name to begin with.

***

Stepping out of the empty tavern, you lock up and tuck the keys away into your worn-out bag. Turning around, you face the emptied backlot, confusion on your face. Where’s JK?

“Aren’t you eager.” The voice startles you and you whip around, facing the handsome man with the boyish face and the large, doe-like eyes.

He has a knack of taking you by surprise!

“Ha… you scared me!” JK doesn’t react, only continues to smile at you and you shiver…  from the cold?

“So… where would you like to go?”

Again, JK doesn’t respond. In fact, he merely stands where he is, continually smiling at you.

As naive as you are, you begin to feel uneasy. A moment passes, then another and another. Still, JK doesn’t move from his spot.

“Y/N, you really are quite beautiful.”

You swallow. “O-oh? Is that so? Thank—“

“It’s a shame the King wants you dead.”

Your eyes widen and in that moment, the situation clicks. How stupid you are.

Spinning on your heels, you turn to run, but pain erupts in your skull as you realize JK has grabbed a handful of your hair and is now tugging you back towards him.

“Uh, uh,” he tuts, like he’s talking to a disobedient child. “Stay still. This will be painless if you don’t fight it.”

Adrenaline courses through your veins and you hear your blood pumping loudly. Without thinking, you spin around and bring your leg up, kicking JK in the crotch, catching him off guard. He groans, loosening his grip on you ever so slightly. That’s all you need - you pull free from him and bringing your hand up, punch him in the throat with all your might. A splutter from said man and then you’re sprinting into the woods - hoping to put as much distance between you and him as possible.  

Your soles hit the ground and tree branches blur past you. Your breath is coming out in huffs, it’s getting dark and you’re alone. Footsteps are heard behind you and sparing a glance, your eyes widen at seeing JK’s looming figure catching speed with you. He’s absolutely terrifying in this moment.

Diving sideways, you manage to roll down a hill, groaning as you hit the flat surface of dirt. Sitting up, you gaze up to see JK glaring down at you from the ledge you fell. It’s too slippery for him to slide down without hurting himself, and he knows this. His gaze lands on a trail just off to the side. You watch in horror as he sprints towards it. Staggering up on wobbly legs, you gaze around — exit — I need an exit!

“Y/N! Y/N! I can help!” You look down and notice your bag on the ground, the contents spilled out. One of them is your compact mirror - which has Jin staring back at you! Feeling a wave of slight relief, you grab the mirror and despite the pain and your forgotten items, you race through the thicket of bushes and trees.

“Jin - tell me I’m dreaming, because right now I’m being chased by a serial killer,” you hiss, trying to keep your voice low as you duck just beneath a protruding branch.

“I would love to tell you that - but unfortunately it’s the truth. The King hired a trained huntsman to track you down to kill.”

“How are you so calm about all this?”

“I’m trying to figure out a way to save you,” Jin huffs.

“Please think faster - I don’t think I can continue like this anymore,” you hiss, noticing you are now deeper into the woods than you were before. Deeper and even more lost.

“I have an idea,” Jin pipes up.

You quickly and quietly crouch behind a few shrubs, hiding yourself and holding the mirror close to you. It’s terrifyingly quiet and you’re afraid to look up in fear that JK is looming over you, ready to strike. But you’re certain he’s nowhere near you yet, he had to round the ledge that you rolled down and that would’ve given you enough time to hide.

“Shh! I hear him,” you whisper, quietly placing the mirror on the dirt floor as you press yourself closer and closer into the shrub.

With bated breath, you hear him. Your heart is hammering loudly in your chest, so loud that you’re fearful he can hear and find you. The sound of his footsteps coming closer as he crunches nearby twigs and leaves.

“Y/N, if you come out now, I’ll make it painless and quick. I’m sorry for your fate, but the King has ordered it. You have nowhere else you can run.” It’s said matter-of-factly, but you notice how JK has the decency to sound… guilty?

Jin looks just as terrified as you. Though for him, it’s because he’s the whole reason this situation is unfolding and guilt is killing him slowly. He can’t let you just die - not because of Taehyung’s reckless and impulsive decision!

Due to his self berating, he misses you grabbing a nearby tree branch. You just needed one, clear shot and JK would go down - just enough for you to run to safety.

You slowly stand, holding the branch tightly like a baseball bat. One, two, one, two, one, two… you chant inwardly, as JK nears closer and closer to your spot.

Peeking out, you notice that the huntsman has his back turned to your hiding spot. It’s now or never.

Creeping out, you lift the branch up high and bring it down hard onto the back of his head.

You hear the dull thud of the branch meeting his skull and you think you’ve done it, but JK whips around and your eyes widen in fear. JK is stunned from the surprise attack and he clumsily moves back, putting distance between the two of you.

The impact has dizzied his senses and the next thing he knows, he’s slipping on something wet and then down, down he goes…

“Did you kill him!?” Jin’s voice comes from the ground, horrified and freaking out. You quickly drop the branch and look at the crumpled form on the forest floor. Shivering, you press the toe of your shoe into his side - he doesn’t respond.

“I-I don’t know! I didn’t mean to kill him,” you begin to ramble, fear bubbling in a whole new form. “Shit, shit,” you hiss, dropping to your knees as you reach a hand out, trembling fingers resting just centimetres between his philtrum and nostrils.

A shaky moment passes and slowly the tension bleeds from your heart as you feel faint air on your fingertips.

“He’s not dead - knocked out cold, but not dead,” you breathe, relief flooding your entire body. You miss how Jin visibly relaxes from your words.

“C’mon, I know a cabin not too far from here. You can rest there - tomorrow we’ll figure out another plan before the King knows you’ve gotten away,” Jin’s voice sounds so far in your head. He’s talking survival tactics, but all you can do is feel tears fill your eyes.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Pushing the bubbling fear and anxiety down, you go around JK’s unconscious form, hooking your arms around and under his armpits.

“What are you doing?” Jin deadpans.

“Dragging JK to that cabin you’re talking about. We can’t just leave him out here. He’ll definitely die from the cold if we do,” you huff, realizing just how heavy the huntsman is.

“Good luck, he’s built like a rock,” Jin mumbles with an eye roll.

Despite the side comments, Jin directs you to the cabin while you haul JK through the woods. You feel bad for his clothes, they’re smeared with dirt and leaves, but at least you can aid that wound on the back of his head once you get inside.

“Are you sure no one lives here,” you ask, feeling anxious after you’re done settling JK onto the spare bed and treating his wound. Your entire body is sore and your bones are weak due to the exertion.

Jin makes a noncommittal noise, his back turned to you in the mirror as if he’s actually looking around the place.

“Get some rest,” he advises instead, trying to sound calm.

He’s praying that Taehyung will forget.

If Taehyung doesn’t, he will find out and when he does, all hell will break loose.

+++

Now that we’re caught up with the present situation, on with the story.

King Taehyung is pissed to say the least. His mirror hasn’t responded to him since that day, which was well over a week ago. And on top of it all, his huntsman, is nowhere to be found. No news, no pigeon messengers, nothing.

Cursing his bad luck, Taehyung paces back and forth in front of Jin’s mirror, waiting impatiently.

“Jin, show yourself before I break the damn’ thing,” Taehyung hisses.

Rolling his eyes at the bossiness, Jin appears, doing his elegant bow. “Your Majesty.”

“Find me JK.”

Jin tenses immediately.

You see, after the whole JK-trying-to-murder-you incident, he was pretty much blacked out for a couple of days. You treated him as best you could with Jin’s help, but nothing seemed to work.

To make matters worse… the cabin was inhabited.

A druid, ancient and almost like a wood nymph owned the tiny place. The druid looked human, he was very tall and had startlingly blue eyes.

Surprise on everyone’s expressions when he opened the door to his room to find you kneeling by JK’s bed, bandages in one hand and scissors in the other. You were fearful at first, but the druid, who told you his name is Namjoon, helped you and JK, healing him.

He didn’t take lightly to having strangers in his cabin, but knew Jin from a lifetime before and had reluctantly allowed you and JK to stay until he was fully healed.

JK was a different story.

Number one, his name is Jungkook.

Two, he’s an orphan that grew up working as a guard for the former King and Queen before their passing. Afterwards, Taehyung recruited him as a special huntsman for secret tasks. This you all found out once you managed to cuff Jungkook to the bed and get him to spill everything. It wasn’t that hard, once Jungkook saw Jin, he was pretty much willing to explain everything, no detail left out.

Now, back to the problem at hand. Jin had hoped you would be safe and sound. Taehyung would’ve and should’ve forgotten about you after nearly two weeks of silence, but instead, it was like the King’s fury had risen with each passing day.

Looking at him now, Jin could see just how each day had ruined the powerful man bit by bit. His hair was ragged and messy, almost like the King had constantly ran his fingers through it in frustration. His robes were askew, no longer pristine and in place immaculately. His eyes had dark circles and his skin looked a little less than brilliant.

“Must I repeat myself, every single time,” Taehyung’s voice sounds, cold and hollow, shaking Jin from his thoughts. “Where is Jungkook.”

“Don’t you think you’re going about this wrong, Your Grace? Look at it this way - she’s just a peasant. Common, filthy, plain. You are a King - highest of the land—“

“I will not ask again - show me where Jungkook is or I will smash you to pieces.”

Jin’s eyes widen. Never, in all the years of bickering and fighting and constant cat/mouse games, has Taehyung ever threatened him like this.

“No.”

It’s Taehyung’s turn to stare in shock. “No?” he echoes, the bright walls suddenly dimmer around him.

“You can’t just murder someone because you feel inferior to them. What would your mother say?”  

“Silence!” Taehyung roars, angry filling his features darkly. “Do you know who I am?! I am the King - the Fairest of them all - and you dare to tell me, this pathetic, low, peasant girl has upped me? Regardless of your lies, I will see to it that her head is served on a silver platter for you. This will teach you to never lie to your King again.” A mad look takes over his handsome features and Jin feels real fear creep up his spine.

“I won’t let you harm her. She’s done nothing of the sort to deserve it. As your friend—“

A harsh, empty laugh cuts through the room and Jin stops. Taehyung looks like the portrait of crazy at this point.

“Friend? You think that you and I are friends?” The King questions, walking up slowly to the mirror, his blue robes swishing almost predatorily behind him. “You think… a damned soul such as yourself would ever be a friend of mine? No. No, absolutely not. I tolerated you - kept you by my side because you were useful. You showed me what I wanted to see - but you were never and will never be more than an ugly piece of decoration in this kingdom.”

Jin stares, mouth agape in horror and shock and sadness. He wants to tell Taehyung to take it back, to admit that they’re friends, that somewhere in that cold, darkened heart of his, he truly does care about Jin and all that they’ve been through. Jin, who was there for him when Taehyung was a young boy, reckless and immature, selfish and alone.

But no. Alas, Taehyung is resolute in his words. His eyes are hard, mouth set into a firm, grim line. It is time for Jin to face the music.

His hands coil into fists by his side and Jin tries to recompose himself as best he can. To hell with Kim Taehyung. After everything, he’s still a selfish, immature brat. With as much venom as he can muster, Jin sarcastically states his goodbye, trying to ignore the stab of heartbreak in his chest. “Very well, Your Majesty… I shall take my leave. All hail the King.”

Taehyung watches as the mirror dims and then Jin is gone. In his place is his own reflection, a shell of a man staring back at him, hollowed - unhappy. With a roar of anger, Taehyung spins from the throne room, heading straight for the library.

This common peasant has done it again!

Taken his closest confidant away from him. He’ll teach her.

He’ll show her just what happens when you mess with the King.  

Throwing open the doors to his personal library, he pulls books upon books out from their spots. No, no - Taehyung is almost insane. His fingers are trembling and his heart feels tight. He hates this feeling - he hasn’t felt like this since his parents — no.

You must not think of that, he tells himself. It’s weak and sad and he hates that feeling. Finally, his fingers feel the velvet. Pulling the book from its spot, he grins almost maniacally once he sees the cover. An ancient spell book that had been passed down from a witch to his father as a gift many, many years ago. His father had warned him to never use it, to keep it and know its contents, but to never use it, for Magic Always Came with A Price.

Ignoring the blatant warning bells in his mind and the echoes of his father’s words, Taehyung flips the book open, fingers leafing through the pages with speed. He’ll show them all - how he’s not lonely or weak. Kim Taehyung deserves to be king - more than anyone in this forsaken land! He grins, just a tad bit insane.

He finds three spells.

The first is a spell that will create a poison with a very rare antidote, which he creates successfully and dips a few apples inside.

The second is a tracking spell. He’ll find her one way or another.

Lastly, the third is an illusion. He needs something that will garner her attention, something that will probably appeal to her heart. Grinning, he settles for the disguise of an old, frail woman.

After all, horror comes in threes.

“Watch out, Y/N. I’m coming for you,” he cackles.

He recites the spell with some difficulty even after reading it over a dozen times.  

A gust of wind beats violently against the castle walls, the candles flickering. Taehyung closes his eyes, feeling the magic surrounding him, filling him up and stretching him to be what he wants.

Even with his eyes closed, he can picture the young woman that Jin had showed him not too long ago. She’s smiling at a group of children as she handles a brand new pie, straight from the oven in the mirrored image. Taehyung feels emotions boil inside him. Emotions he doesn’t want to think about.

Then the magic is gone.

Opening his eyes, he grins, only to falter when he realizes how tall everything looks. Wait.

He starts to walk towards the mirror again, but instead of moving smoothly, he stumbles and then falls, landing on his face. What the hell?

Pushing himself back up, or at least trying to, Taehyung stares in horror at what he finds.

His arms are short and furry!!

Trembling, he stands, looking down at himself.

Oh no… no, no, no…

Running towards the mirror, he stares and the image that stares back at him is horrifying.

He’s a dog!

A two-toned brown dog, small and furry and cute.

Taehyung groans, the sound coming out in a whimper.

Running back to the spell book, he realizes he mispronounced a word. The pesky Latin!

Well.

Closing his eyes, he tries to steady the anger boiling inside him. Fine. This is fine - he’s fine. He’ll go, find Y/N, get her to eat an apple, poison her, and then he’ll force Jin to transform him back. Jin will have to - especially if he wants the antidote to save his precious Y/N.

Stamping his paw down with as much might as he can, Taehyung grabs onto the stem of one apple, already heading towards the door.

He’ll show them.

He’ll show them all!

***

Jin is tense.

You’re in the garden tending to the vegetables, which means you’re safe. For the time being.

Taehyung is on a crazy spree. Which means, he’s after you and will not let you go until he manages to kill you.

“You know, this is kinda your fault,” Jungkook murmurs, pulling apart some bread and tossing a bite into his mouth. “If you didn’t mess with him, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Eat with your mouth closed,” Jin scolds from his spot on the dining table. Namjoon is pretending to not hear them, continually tweaking away at his mini bonsai plant.

Jungkook rolls his eyes and takes another bite of the bread. He’s almost healed now, but he’s decided to stay behind and watch over you. You did save his life after all, even though it was his fault in the first place.

After waking up and finding himself in an unfamiliar place and in immense pain, Jungkook knew it was time to reevaluate his life choices. Thus, here he was, swearing his loyalty to you.

“Seokjin, why do you keep pacing?” Namjoon wonders, standing straight and towering over the small mirror. The compact was left for travelling and now, Jin resided in a medium sized mirror that was toted around the small cabin wherever one of the three habitants would be.

“I keep pacing because I’m worried. You didn’t see him - Taehyung looked mad. Worse than the Mad Hatter!”

“Heh. Hasn’t he always been, though? Ever since the funeral, he’s been spiralling… not to mention, he keeps talking about absorbing more magic and whatnot,” Jungkook talks absently, reaching for another piece of bread.

Jin stops pacing, head whipping to face the younger male. “What - magic? You mean, Taehyung was looking into getting more magic?”

The huntsman nods. “Mm. He was constantly mumbling to himself about a magical book that could grant him whatever he wanted and keep him youthful forever. You know, typical evil talk.”

At this point, Namjoon looks up from his plant, furrowed eyebrows in the huntsman’s direction. “How are you not more… alarmed?”

“I was. I think I still am. It’s just my defence mechanism. You know, dealing with the whole, I-could’ve-died thing.”

Namjoon nods understandingly.

“If he found the book though, that means he’s been using it. Reading it at the very least. Which means he’s on his way here if he’s found the tracking spell,” Jin mutters, more to himself. “But he can’t just leave the castle as is. He’s the King - everyone knows his face.”

“A disguise,” Namjoon supplies.

Jungkook sits straight up. “Yeah, that definitely sounds like Taehyung. He would definitely get a disguise and probably cooked up a whole new murder plan.”

“Y/N!” Jin practically shouts. “Bring me to her! She’s in mortal danger!”

***

Outside, you straighten your back with a satisfying groan. Most of the vegetables were harvested and now you had a nice, filled basket of goodies for the coming days. Carrots, tomatoes, and some potatoes, too.

You’ve almost forgotten about the whole ‘the King of Land of Fairytales wanting me dead’ ordeal.

Humming softly, you go to water the plants by the front of the cabin. Namjoon has been so kind to let you stay, along with JK - now Jungkook. The huntsman had sworn loyalty to you after waking to find you tending to his wounds. Though… he was the one who inflicted them upon himself.

A sudden sound off to the side gets your attention.

You stand up straight, clutching the watering pot close to you.

“Hello?” You wince at the sound of your voice. Haven’t you learned from past tales that you never call out loud to impending danger.

Still, your dumbass is curious and so, you move closer and closer towards the sound.

It’s from a large bush near the front of the cabin. The leaves are ruffling and you’re sure whatever is in there won’t get close, not when you have a magical mirror, huntsman and a druid all nearby.

Pushing the leaves apart, you notice more movement. “What the—“

“Y/N, STEP AWAY!” Jin shouts and you hear Jungkook’s thundering footsteps. A hand lands on your upper arm and you’re steered around. Jin is ready - ready to face his former best friend, the monster of all monsters. How dare he come after you like this?!

However, what greets him isn’t a frail, old woman or an ominous child or demon spawned from hell, but rather… a dog. An almost puppy-sized Pomeranian, brown and yipping in your arms.

“Uh, Jin,” Jungkook murmurs, also noticing the fluff ball that’s cradled in your arm.

You’re the first one to break the silence, the small ball of adorableness staring up at you. “Oh by the gods,” you gush, unable to help yourself. “You’re so freaking cute!!”

The dog has short legs, a body of brown fur and it’s trying to move, but you don’t notice the way the dog practically growls at Jungkook threateningly. The huntsman backs off, immediately sensing something is way off.

“Jungkook, give me some space. You’re freaking out the poor pup,” you chide softly, too enraptured by the adorable fluff ball to notice the way it’s practically hissing at Jungkook with hatred.

Said man backs off, quickly going back to Namjoon’s side.

“Call me crazy, but I think that’s Taehyung,” Jungkook whispers, his eyes never leaving the yapping dog. He can’t quite understand it, but he’s sure Taehyung is cursing him to the moon and back.

Jin watches from the mirror, calculating his next move. Taehyung isn’t an expert at magic, that much is true. He also managed to turn himself into a dog and found them.

Well.

“Y/N,” Jin calls out and you walk over, carrying your newfound friend with you. “Why don’t you keep it? I think it’s a stray.”

The dog stops barking - well, Taehyung stops shouting - immediately. His eyes hone in on Jin and suddenly the wheels click in his head. Sonofab—

“That sounds like a great idea. We could teach it some tricks. We usually sees wolves, not a stray puppy,” you coo, smiling brightly. “It’s so cute too!”

“Check to see the gender,” Jin supplies, further adding salt to the injury. Taehyung will murder him once he returns back to his normal form.

Without shame, you tilt the dog gently and peek.

“It’s a boy,” you smile without a care, not noticing how Taehyung practically went stiff in your arms, unable to do anything but let out a soft, embarrassed whimper. Jin is smirking at him, almost victoriously.

“Check, mate,” he mouths, smirk widening when he sees Taehyung ready to jump out of your arms and run at the mirror. Unfortunately, you’re far more stronger than him now that he’s a dog.

Thus, Taehyung has lost this round.

+++

The next days are splendid.

You wake up, make breakfast while Namjoon and Jungkook hunt, clean and chat with Jin and of course, spend all your time with your new puppy. You hadn’t been sure what to name him, but ‘Caramel’ seemed fitting since he was a duo brownish colour, darker brown on top and much lighter along his belly.

He constantly ignored his dog food, preferring to eat the human food you had cooked for the others. At first you were worried he’d get sick, but as time went on, you realized Caramel was just special. Even in this short time span, you knew you loved him.

On the other hand, Taehyung has been plotting your murder since day one. But alas, he hasn’t been able to execute it probably. Each and every single time, Jungkook, Jin or even the druid, Namjoon, have managed to foil his plans.

One time, he saw you leaning over the edge of the river bank, trying to fish. He had ran at full speed, hoping to push you into the water. Last minute, Namjoon had pulled you to safety and Taehyung had yipped in fear as he dove headfirst into the wet surface. He wasn’t used to walking, so swimming was far out of the picture. The shock soon wore off and fear gripped him as he felt himself sinking.

A splash was heard and arms grabbed him, pulling him up into safety. He spluttered, as much as he could in this form, ready to thank Jungkook for helping him… only to find it was, well, you.

You were soaked, hair sticking to your face as you watched him with worrisome eyes. “Caramel, be careful!” You scolded, keeping him bundled close.

The pomeranian didn’t know what else to do, shivering from cold, fright, or something else. Without thinking, Taehyung all but snuggled into you and your warmth. Just this once, he tells himself inwardly. Tomorrow he would try to kill you again.

Of course, the days that spanned soon turned into weeks. Each day, Taehyung spent with you, he forgot about wanting to kill you. Ever since the riverbank incident, you’ve kept your eye on the pomeranian, not wanting anymore accidents. Despite all the attention (much to Jin’s chagrin), Taehyung was beginning to warm up to you, whether or not he realized it.

In fact… he dare say, he was beginning to like you.

That is - if Taehyung had emotional understanding, he would realize it. But he didn’t. So he continued to be rather dense.

One night in particular, after dinner, Namjoon had offered to wash the dishes with Jungkook, deciding you should have free time after rushing around all day doing this and that. Jin had hummed in agreement, though he seemed distracted with something. The mirror bid you all goodnight, leaving only the two cleaners, you and Caramel.

Not wanting to go to sleep just yet, you wrapped yourself in a shawl that Namjoon had given to you a few days prior (“For the colder nights,” he had smiled warmly, dimples showing).

“Caramel,” you whisper, crouching next to the dog almost falling asleep on the armchair. “Do you want to see the stars with me?”

Taehyung perks at that, turning to face you. The last time he’s seen the stars was when his parents were still alive and well. The three of them had gone to the highest tower in the castle and gazed out, while having a nightly picnic of treats. He makes a low noise of agreement and you scoop him up, heading towards the back of the cabin.

The air is a little chilly, but you wrap the shawl tightly around your shoulders. Taking a seat on the wooden porch of the cabin, you bring your knees to your chest, head tipped upwards. Taehyung looks up, too, eyes widening at the sight before him.

“Wow,” you breathe amazedly. Taehyung mirrors you in agreement.

The moon is full and bright, high in the night sky. Around it are a million sparkling stars, some larger than others. It’s like the entire world has faded away, leaving only the two of you to see this swirling sea of endless beauty.

“You know, that big star right there,” you point out, getting the dog’s attention. “That’s Sirius. In other words, it’s known as the ‘dog star,’” you grin, “like you.”

Taehyung scoffs - you’ve got jokes.

You giggle feeling the sassy response from your companion. “It’s the brightest star in the entire galaxy, Caramel. Which means you’re one pretty special doggie.”

He doesn’t know why, but he turns to look at you and your side profile makes something in him feel… warm. Blaming the night chill, he presses his smaller form against you. Noticing, you lift and place him in your lap, wrapping the shawl around the both of you, while letting his head peek out to watch the stars.

“You want to know the funniest thing? I’m a common peasant… no family, no money, nothing to my name but my person. I work at a tavern, serving brutes and drunks all day long. All I wanted was my own fairytale ending… like those princesses I see strolling the street markets day after day,” you sigh. “Turns out the King wants me dead… I don’t even know why. Then there’s a magic mirror, a huntsman and a druid. I was all alone before they came to me… did you know that?”

Taehyung watches you, unable to look away. Something akin to guilt grips at his heart. He too, knows the feeling of loneliness. Ever since his parents’ death, he’s been alone. No friends truly cared, no family members wanted to take him in - all he had were servants and those that wanted the throne.

These past days that he’s been with you, he’s seen how you are. You’re hardworking, kind, always looking out for others. Always got a warm smile on your face, even when you’re sad. You try to hide the pain to not be a burden. And himself? He’s nothing but a spoilt brat sitting on the throne, complaining and whining when things don’t go his way.

“And the thing is… I’m scared they’ll all leave me. So while I hate the King for putting me in this situation, I’m also grateful because of him, I met some really, really wonderful friends.” You smile, looking down at the pomeranian.

Your eyes shine with unshed tears.

Taehyung whimpers, leaning up to lick the tears away before he can second guess his actions.

“But most of all, I’m glad I have you, Caramel. You’re… special to me. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like you get me. You understand what I’m saying and how I feel. …even though you’re a huge troublemaker,” you tease, voice soft.

Taehyung’s heart doubles in speed.

Even though you didn’t have lips as red as rose, hair as dark as ebony, skin as white as snow… Taehyung finds you, in a puzzling way, perfect. Especially with the way the moonlight shines down on you, basking you in a white, ethereal glow.

“I love you, Caramel. I hope I never lose you,” you admit, squeezing him a little tighter in your embrace.

Taehyung finds he doesn’t care. He hugs you back as much as he can in this form, nuzzling closer to your soothing heartbeat.

He hasn’t felt like this in a long time. No longer lonely and isolated. He feels… happy.

Is Taehyung — the cold, hollow, ice King — falling in love?

You pet him, cuddle him, read stories to him - you even teach him tricks (which he hates, but he does because you smile when he successfully accomplishes one and it makes his tiny heart flutter). Heck, you even talk to him! It’s something Taehyung has missed ever since his parents’ passing and while he tries to push the thought away, he can’t pretend that his little (doggie) heart isn’t thumping for you. Because damn’, it is.

He’s gotten belly rubs and pets; warm, good, homestyle cooking made just for him with love and care. You give him forehead kisses and tell him your deepest wishes and desires, all the while just enjoying his presence even though he doesn’t/can’t say anything back! Yet, you never become frustrated or upset with him. Even when he’s being a ‘bad doggie’.

You genuinely care for him.

He sees the way Jin smirks at him when you get up to fetch another nighttime story and Taehyung growls lowly under his breath. The mirror chuckles and goes back to doing whatever he was doing before being a nosy-eavesdropper.

Taehyung is happy. He hasn’t felt this free in years and he doesn’t want to quite give up the doggy lifestyle just yet.

After all, he still needed to murder you and since that wasn’t really on his agenda anymore, he decided that he would stay just a little bit longer.

At least… until he could figure out why he couldn’t bear to leave you behind as he returned to his kingly duties.

+++

But of course, life is filled with trials and tribulations.

One fateful day, there is a knock at the door. Taehyung is busy sitting in your lap, eating the omelette you’ve cooked for him. Jungkook gets the door and lo and behold, it is Prince Jimin from the neighbouring castle.

Prince Jimin, with his coiffed silvery hair, smoky eyes and pouting, full lips.

The door widens some more and Taehyung is able to make out that there are two other men behind the Prince.

“Hello,” Jimin smiles, all princely and kind. Taehyung would roll his eyes if he could. The snob. “Would it be alright if I come in?”

“Oh - yes, please,” You start, already standing and gently placing Taehyung on the ground. He pouts. How dare you put him down because of this other, snivelling male. He watches as you walk over to Jimin, curtsying as best you can. He also doesn’t miss the way Jimin can’t seem to take his eyes off of you - the way there’s a shade of light pink dusting the Prince’s cheeks. A growl starts in Taehyung’s throat.

“Welcome to our humble abode, Your Highness,” Namjoon greets, bowing. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

Jimin smiles still as he enters the small cabin, the two men following close behind. “I was just coming to visit you. I have some questions about my garden and was hoping you would be able to give me some advice… though, I dare say, I’ve come upon an even more beautiful treasure.”

Your eyes widen when you notice how the Prince looks at you, his eyes sparkling.

Jungkook clears his throat from beside you and Jimin notices how he’s eyeing the two men behind him. “Ah - yes! This is Yoongi, he is my Royal Advisor.” Said man is roughly around Jimin’s height, dressed in black, but his blazer is covered in an intricate pattern that is similar to the Prince’s. Black hair falls over cat-like eyes and Taehyung feels the bark in him die down, especially when the advisor turns his gaze onto him. It’s as if Yoongi can see right through his disguise.

“This here is Hoseok, my royal guard,” the man on his left, slightly taller, dark hair sweeping across his forehead. His eyes are focused on Jungkook, almost assessing the situation if anything were to break out.

“Would you two cut it out,” Jimin whines after a moment of tense silence. “This is why I didn’t want you accompanying me. It feels like a funeral with you two!”

You blink in surprise. Prince Jimin is handsome, but when he breaks from his serious face, he’s got a pouty, almost childlike glee to him. You chuckle, catching the Prince’s attention. A small smile lights up his face.

“Well, since you’ve come all this way, I suppose I’ll go back to take a look at the gardens,” Namjoon states, already walking towards the carriage waiting outside.

“Would your… friends care to join us,” Jimin wonders, gaze still fixed on yours.

“Sure!”

“Bark!”

Both you and Taehyung speak at the same time and it grabs Jimin’s attention. You watch in alarm at the way Caramel is poised, tense and ready to attack the Prince, despite the size difference.

Bending down, you quickly scoop the pomeranian into your arms. “As long as he can come. He gets fussy when I leave him alone for a long period,” you try to reason, struggling to keep your hold because it looks like he’s about to maul Jimin to pieces.

The Prince chuckles nervously, and while his two companions say nothing more, you notice how Yoongi’s eyes have amusement dancing in them as he watches the dog.

Soon you all set off, Jin, the magic mirror in tow as well.

Jimin’s castle is beautiful, tall, bright and filled with colourful people and decorations. There’s always music and laughter and you find yourself loving the atmosphere.

Namjoon tends to his gardens, while Jungkook and Jin go off to browse the castle grounds and the places outside. You keep Caramel close to your side, worried that he’ll get into even more trouble if you leave him alone.

All seems well. And all would be. You found a handsome, charming Prince; you have a group of wonderful, newfound friends - even Yoongi and Hoseok are quite nice, once you get past the whole serious facade they put up to guard their leader.

It should be a Happy Ever After.

But.

It’s not.

You see, this isn’t what Taehyung wanted. He doesn’t want to see you and Jimin getting along just swell. Laughing over shared jokes, talking and exchanging ideas, likes, dislikes, becoming closer each growing day. Soon, what was supposed to only be a visit almost becomes permanent.

Namjoon grows to love the garden and postpones leaving, despite Taehyung’s constant barking and ankle nipping to get the druid to understand he wants to leave. But Namjoon is far denser than the King and he doesn’t even spare a glance as he starts to avoid the small pomeranian.

Then an idea hits.

A devilish, perfect, evil idea.

Taehyung treks the journey back to the cabin - not that far when you have four legs. He finds the poisonous apple he had hidden behind the shrubs… a little gross looking, but nonetheless edible if he could clean it with some water. Holding the stem in his teeth, he treks back to the castle quickly.

New Plan: Poison Prince Jimin.

Y/N no longer loves him because he’s dead.

Y/N chooses to return home to the cabin in the woods with him.

You and Taehyung live happily ever after.  

The End.

“You’re jealous,” Jin’s teases when he sees Taehyung in his doggy form pacing around your empty bedroom.

You had went to have dinner with the others earlier. Taehyung had feigned sleepiness, so you had tucked him into your bed, pressing a sweet kiss to his head as you left. The moment you were gone, Taehyung had sprung up and tried to get to the poisoned apple underneath your mattress. He didn’t expect Jin to show up, but here he was, watching Taehyung through your new, vanity mirror.

A bark.

“That’s a foul word, even for you, My King,” Jin drawls, arms crossed. They haven’t really spoken that much - not since the Big Fight.

But Jin has a big, soft heart and he can’t stand to watch Taehyung fall apart. So while they haven’t spoken, the older has kept an eye on him to make sure he never went too far with his shenanigans. Now seemed like one of those times.

“What are you going to do - poison Jimin? Y/N won’t like that,” Jin tries to reason, missing the way Taehyung struggles with getting the stem of the apple into his teeth and out from under the bed.

Another bark.

“That’s not a good idea. You’ve already attempted murder, what, a handful of times and each one has ended up badly. Don’t you think this means you, oh, I don’t know - not murder anymore??”

Another bark and a string of growls.

“Pfft. Right back at you,” Jin scoffs. “Taehyung - look. If you love her, like I know you do, just talk to her - I can help you find a spell to turn back into yourself. She’ll love you for you. All you have to do is make a few personality changes, you know - less moody, less bossy, less—“ Jin stops.

As he turned to face the dog, he realized two things: Taehyung is not there. The room is empty.

***

You and Jimin are in the dining room, alone - how fitting.

The Prince is trying to teach you a magic trick involving a string. He’s demonstrating it once more and you’re enraptured by the neat trick. Taehyung hates how his heart is squeezing and running forward, he drops the apple by Jimin’s ankle. Barking once to gather the Prince’s attention.

Jimin looks down, surprise on his face to see your pomeranian beaming up at him, sitting on his hind legs and tail wagging.

“Oh, for me?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen.

It’s your hand that reaches towards the granny smith apple.

That beautiful smile on your face and he can’t — you can’t die!

Without thinking and clearly freaking out, he growls hoping to scare you.

Instead, you frown at the dog, hand closed around the apple and bringing it towards your face. “Caramel, what are you—“

Taehyung does what he can only do in this situation.

He eats the apple.

You watch in shock as your dog begins to whimper as he stares up at you, suddenly brown eyes looking like they were… crying?

Panic squeezes your chest and you drop to your knees, pulling the pomeranian close. “H-hey, what’s wrong?”

Taehyung feels immense pain course through him.

“Get help! Someone get help!” You shout in alarm, acidic tears pricking at your eyes.

Jimin is on his feet, quickly calling for Namjoon and Yoongi.

The doors to the dining room fly open, several people running towards the Prince and you.

Before they can get near you, a bright, blinding flash of light fills the room.

You close your eyes shut tight, keeping the dog securely in your arms.

Just as quick as the light was there, it’s gone.

And in its place, in your arms, is no longer Caramel, your adorable pomeranian - but a man.

Naked, caramel-coloured skin, eyes closed and definitely unconscious.

You stare in shock.

Everyone in the room is deathly quiet, until Jimin breaks the silence.

“Oh my gods… is that — Taehyung?!” All eyes turn to Jimin, including yours.

Wait, as in King Taehyung - the man who ordered Huntsman Jungkook to murder you almost a month ago?!

Jin and Jungkook are standing there, watching in horror because no one was supposed to find out about Taehyung’s disguise and also - why isn’t he moving?!

“He ate the apple,” you choke out, suddenly aware and connecting all the dots. “He ate the apple and now he’s not moving!”

Yoongi swiftly kneels beside you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Let me see him.” You want to refuse, want to argue that they can’t touch him - not when you don’t even know what to do yourself. But the advisor gives you a reassuring squeeze and you hesitantly let Caramel — Taehyung go.

***

A wave of exhaustion hits you as you wait impatiently outside the royal infirmary.

Yoongi is also a trained physician, especially in ancient magic, much like Namjoon, and the two have not left the room since they took Taehyung into it.

You feel your nerves going as you sit there, waiting for something.

“Y/N.” Looking up, you see Jungkook looking worriedly at you.

Hoseok has been leaning against the wall to the infirmary, stationary and quiet ever since Jimin went in with Jin. Jungkook had offered to stay behind to comfort you, worried about how you were reacting to the sudden events.

“He’s - he’s really the King? The same King who hired you to kill me,” you ask, voice surprisingly clear.

Jungkook winces. “Yes… he, well, I grew up with him. His parents took me in from the orphanage. Hoped they could have me as Taehyung’s friend, but after their deaths, Taehyung pushed me away. Trained me to become his personal assassin - he was always paranoid everyone was against him,” Jungkook explains.

Groaning, you bury your face into your hands. “Why is my life so messed up?” You mumble. You miss the way Hoseok and Jungkook exchange an empathetic glance.

The door to the infirmary opens and you immediately look up. Jimin’s half-standing out of the door, handing something to Hoseok as he exchanges words quietly with his guard. The Prince turns to you, a somber expression on his face before he apologetically closes the door once more, shutting you out.

“My Lady,” Hoseok begins, treading lightly as he turns towards you.

You sit up. Beside you, Jungkook is tensed, worried about what Hoseok might do.

“His Majesty says the warlock would like to exchange some words with you.”

Hoseok hands you the small compact mirror and you thank him. Nodding, he goes back to his post, back turned to you as he waits silently.

Jin’s face appears in the mirror and he looks just as exhausted as you. “Y/N, I think… you have a lot of questions. Please, I’ll try to answer whatever you ask me.”

“Jin - just what the hell is going on,” you hiss, tears pricking at your eyes. “You better not lie to me anymore or I swear I’ll throw you into the dumpster!”

The man in the mirror feels immense guilt at seeing you so sad.

He finally tells you.

Jin tells you how from the beginning he was a renowned warlock, powerful and ancient. He grew cocky and as a punishment, a group of supernatural beings got together and cast a curse over him. He was to be locked inside the mirror that hung in Taehyung’s castle until true love came along to set him free. Even Namjoon, who was almost as old as Jin, couldn’t set him free with his magic. From there, years passed and Taehyung came along. The two became like brothers and soon, Jungkook joined the warlock’s world.

When Taehyung’s family passed, everything changed. Taehyung changed. He shut everyone out, closed his heart and became an ice cold King. Jin wanted to break through the mask, wanted to have the goofy, immature Prince back that he once knew. So he told a lie which spiralled out of control and brought them to where they are now.

You tear your eyes away from the image Jin has created in the mirror for you. The castle — Taehyung’s castle — is nothing like Jimin’s.

It’s gloomy, the servants in the image look monotonous and dreary, even the castle is sparse and filled with only decorations for the sake of filling empty spaces. Nothing is homey about Taehyung’s kingdom. You can’t help but feel bad for him… even after everything Jin has told you.

“I-is there a cure? To wake him up,” you ask.

“There is, but I don’t think Taehyung will ever wake up,” Jin answers sadly, his head hanging.

“What is it? Maybe I can help.”

“It’s True Love’s Kiss,” the warlock responds, frowning. “Y/N, no one has ever loved Taehyung that way; no one but his parents. How can you possibly wake him up? Even I - his longtime companion feel anger when I think of all the mess he’s caused.”

You quickly stand, startling Jungkook. “Even if we feel anger, it doesn’t mean we don’t love him. I mean - you, you love him. So why don’t we try? I’m sure after all this time, you or Jungkook must feel something for the King.”

The huntsman makes a face. “I definitely am not kissing him. I know for a fact I don’t love him like that.”

“…could you?” Your eyes widen at Jin’s request. “He - he’s spent so much time with you as Caramel! Even if his name was never known to you, you must’ve felt something for all the time you spent together. Even if it’s just warmth. He clearly feels something for you - I mean,” Jin babbles.

You hate Taehyung.

He made you go on the run, almost get murdered by Jungkook, live in a cabin for fear of him finding out you were still alive - and it turns out, he disguised himself as your adorable pomeranian and tried to kill Jimin with a poisoned apple after he got jealous of your divided attention! Logically, it made sense why you hated the man. He was selfish and cruel and a narcissistic psychopath, you reasoned with yourself.

Even if he listened to you when you spoke and read to him, nuzzled into your side when you were sad that you could never return to normalcy.

Followed you no matter where you went, even if it was dangerous. Fought off stray wolves during your treks to find more food regardless of the size difference…

Played and did all the tricks you taught him - even though you now know he wasn’t a regular dog but the King of the Land! He still went out of his way to make you happy, when all he had to do was walk back to his castle and go back to his life.

He did whatever he could to make you smile.

Sighing, you give in.

Even if you are angry and you have every right to be, Taehyung is a straight up asshole - you want to save him. You want to save him because it just felt like the right thing to do and you couldn’t bear to see Taehyung die alone…

Pushing open the door to the infirmary, you enter to find Yoongi and Namjoon conversing over a large book. Jimin is sitting by Taehyung’s side, watching the King with a fond expression.

“Y/N,” Jimin greets, immediately standing when he sees you. “Is everything alright?”

“I know what will wake up,” you begin, exchanging a look with Jin. The older man nods gratefully. “It’s True Love’s Kiss.”

Jimin blanches visibly. “Y-you’re going to kiss him?”

“One of us has to,” you grumble, feeling your cheeks grow hot. “Are you?”

Jimin quickly shakes his head.

Huffing, you push him aside as you walk up to Taehyung’s bed. The male looks… peaceful. Almost. His eyes are closed and you can see just how long his eyelashes are. You also notice the moles that decorate his caramel skin. One on his nose and one on his bottom lip.

“Are you sure, Y/N? You don’t have to do this,” Jimin begins, thinking you’re second guessing your actions.

“N-no, it’s fine. I’m just. You’re all watching me work a miracle, it’s unnerving.”

“Take your time,” Namjoon offers, a kind smile on his face.

Nodding, you take a deep breath. Here goes something.

Leaning over, you squeeze your eyes shut and kiss Taehyung - a quick peck on the lips.

Pulling back quickly, you watch, waiting for the man to sit up.

Nothing happens.

Behind you, you hear Hoseok clear his throat. “…maybe it takes a moment,” he shrugs, scratching the back of his neck.

A moment passes and still nothing. Your eyes widen. It didn’t work! Maybe you aren’t Taehyung’s true love after all!

You turn, facing Jin with panic. “It should work, you’re the only one that should be able to wake him,” Jin states, more to himself before quickly disappearing after his words.

Great. Jin just left.

“Maybe you’re not kissing him hard enough?” Jimin wonders.

You like Jimin. Really, you do - but his comment irks you more than you let on. “Why don’t you trying kissing him then,” you hiss.

Jimin makes a disgusted face, crossing his arms. “No, no, I rather not. He’s a real drag.”

“You know, I saw something like this once. It was in a tale,” Yoongi begins almost conspiratorially.

Namjoon nods sagely. “Yes, I believe I do know that tale. The Princess needed a scale from a mere folk’s fin to wake her lover up.”

Jimin and Hoseok are now going to where Jungkook is standing by the window, all three conversing quietly.

You look around, noticing how everyone is muttering amongst themselves, trying to find a solution now that you clearly didn’t work.

The conversation around you begins to get on your nerves. They’re talking as if you were some trial that wasn’t successful in a laboratory!

Turning back to face Taehyung with a sense of newfound gusto, you lean down again. “You want true love’s kiss, fine.”

Grabbing Taehyung’s face, you press your lips to his more insistently now.

You try to ignore how soft his lips feel even though he’s clearly not had moisturizer or lip ointment during his time as a dog. That and he smells heavenly. Seriously, was it just a royalty thing??

Then — something just clicks.

It’s like time has stopped and you’re flying because suddenly, you feel hands on your face and the lips on yours begin to move, deepening the kiss. You groan, unable to stop yourself. The taste is addicting, making you yearn and want more.

Your fingers find their way into soft hair and you’re tugging enough to earn a hiss from the man below. He licks at your lips, asking for entrance and you almost grant it - until your mind reels you back to the present and where you are.

You pull away, mortified at what has happened.

“Y-you’re up?” you ask, unable to hide the breathlessness to your voice.

Taehyung is definitely and visibly up. His dark eyes are fixed on you, lips swollen and thoroughly kissed and his hair is a mess thanks to your wandering hands.

Remembering where you both are, he clears his throat, turning his gaze upwards to face the ceiling. “Uh, yeah. You - you kissed me?”

You nod. “To you know, break the spell of your poison apple!”

“Right,” Taehyung immediately replies, red dusting his cheeks. “Right. T-thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The entire room is quiet. Awkward silence filters the atmosphere.

“I should go,” you swallow, feeling embarrassed at how the situation has unfolded.

Taehyung doesn’t ask you to stay and you don’t miss the way your heart squeezes at that. You notice the rest of the room just watching you two interact with bated breath - even Jin is back from wherever he disappeared off to.

“Excuse me,” you quickly curtsy to Jimin, before you’re fleeing from the room.

…unfortunately this is how our two lover’s story ends.

King Taehyung and Y/N go their separate ways. Taehyung goes back to his castle with Jungkook and Jin after thanking Prince Jimin for letting him stay. Namjoon chooses to accompany Taehyung back, especially after the King offers the druid position as a royal advisor. Jimin and Taehyung shake on it, promising to meet outside of royal affairs to become better acquainted again - after all, they were the best of friends when they were both just young boys. Yoongi and Hoseok continue on with their lives, though Taehyung can’t help but flush every time Yoongi meets his gaze. It’s like the advisor knows something Taehyung doesn’t (or doesn’t want to acknowledge anyways).

You go back home, declining Jimin’s request to stay by his side. You like the Prince, he’s handsome, charming, funny and he’s what every singleton in the Land of Fairytales is after - but he’s not for you. You thank him for everything he’s done and wish him the best in finding a better lover. Jimin doesn’t pressure you and you think it’s because he too realizes your heart never belonged to him in the first place.

Days pass and you’re back on track again for normalcy and the mundane. Though, you don’t complain as much as you used to. You quit the tavern upon returning, deciding to try your hand at a different occupation. You just know there’s something out there waiting for you - something great and wonderful and you’re going to find it on your own.

In his castle, Taehyung is miserable. Not because of his lifestyle. No, he’s changed things around a bit - new decorations, new guidelines, he even smiles a bit more to his workers and servants than he had previously. The magic spell book is placed back in its storage spot and he’s managed to recover as best he can the friendships with Jungkook and Jin.

But he’s unhappy. He doesn’t ask Jin who’s the fairest of them all anymore - it no longer fancies him to know and he honestly doesn’t even care anymore about that.

“You look awful,” Jin voices one afternoon on a sunny day. Both, he and Taehyung are watching as Namjoon teaches Jungkook basic, forestry magic. It’s endearing to see how the younger quickly fawns over the druid, almost heart-eyed.

“I haven’t slept well,” Taehyung lies.

“Because you miss her?”

A grunt is all the warlock gets in response. “You should find her. She’s waiting for you, too, you know.”

“What, you’ve been stalking her?”

“No. We still talk, even if you no longer bother to reach out. She’s a good one… pure and kind-hearted. Tougher than you think,” Jin chuckles.

“I know she’s tough, I just don’t want her feeling pressured to be with me because of what we went through. Trauma isn’t meant to create happiness.”

Not for the first time since their return, Jin is impressed. Taehyung has definitely matured quite a bit.

“I don’t think it’s trauma. She would’ve run for the hills if she hated you. Clearly - she doesn’t.”

Taehyung is quiet, mulling over the elder’s words.

“Do you love her?”

“Yes,” Taehyung responds without hesitation. “So much that it hurts without her here. I just…” Taehyung sighs. “I just want to be with her.”

“Then go!” Jin practically shouts. “What are you waiting for?! No one is going to just drop her into your lap because you want her - you have to go get her yourself! Stop being a coward and go to her,” Jin wants to shake the foolish King.

Looking out at the land before him, Taehyung realizes he really doesn’t care about all of this. If you’re not by his side, he doesn’t want any of it - none of the riches or the fame. He wants your kindness and your smiles. He wants you reading him bedtime stories, expressing your wishes and deepest thoughts with him. Side by side, watching the stars like you had back at the cabin. Just the two of you.

“But I cannot do that to her,” he murmurs at last, shoulders drooping. “She wants a life for herself. If I profess my love to her and keep her here in the kingdom, she’ll never have the adventures and journeys she’s craving.”

Jin scoffs. Of all the time to be a good man, King Taehyung chooses now.

Suddenly, a wickedly good idea sparks into Jin’s mind!

Why didn’t he think of it before? This way, both the King and Y/N get their wishes to come true!

Grinning gleefully, he turns to face Taehyung - the younger looking at Jin skeptically.

“Why are you smiling like that? It is rather… unsettling,” he murmurs, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand.

“Oh, Your Majesty - I have just the thing for you.”

+++

You sigh for the umpteenth time that day.

You had quit your job at the tavern. Which means, no more money coming into your pockets, despite how little the wage already was. Now you have nothing coming in anymore, period.

Your supposed home is a tiny, broom closet. You’ve lost contact with all your former friends, minus Jin. The warlock still pops in from time to time to check on things. You’re grateful for the bond you two have, even though you’re certain it’s because Jin is still guilty of how he practically ruined your life.

When you returned back ‘home,’ you were certain you were going to take your life into your own hands. Adventures! Journeys! You wanted to visit the Isle of the Mere, see the North Kingdom — maybe take a yearlong cruise!

Taehyung had given you a hefty sum of money and shiny treasures for his gratitude to you for saving him countless times. Not that you wanted or needed it. If anything, it hurt you more knowing the King rewarded you with things for The Kiss.

Ah. The kiss… you couldn’t lie and say it didn’t affect you at all. Because, oh boy, it did.

After countless nights of tossing and turning, of having the man invade every single one of your thoughts throughout the day, you couldn’t help but finally take some serious self-reflection. You love(?) Kim Taehyung.

Even though he’s cocky, insane and a tad murderous — you miss him. You miss him listening to you when you told him your thoughts and feelings. You miss how comfortable you felt watching the stars in Namjoon’s backyard. You miss the way he went out of his way to make you happy, even in the form of a small pomeranian dog.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t realize you’ve stopped walking now, having arrived back at the cabin in the woods once more. Namjoon no longer lives here, having moved to Taehyung’s castle. You frown, it is truly uninhabited now.

Moving past the gate, you approach the front door, memories rushing back to you. Another sigh leaves you. You miss everyone. You miss the times you spent with them. No matter how trivial it might seem to them, it meant something special to you.

Suddenly, the neigh of a horse grabs your attention. Twirling around, you stare in shock at seeing a figure cloaked in deep blue robes on a magnificent stallion.

It’s Taehyung. You recognize that face a mile away. His hair is different, no longer the curly black, but now a bright, startling blue that matches his robes. He’s eyes widen when he notices you, quickly pulling his horse to a stop.

“Y-Y/N?” he asks, almost like he’s afraid he’s hallucinating.

“Hi,” you greet, soft and unsure.

“What are you doing here,” he wonders. “N-not that you’re not allowed here! You’re always allowed here - whenever you want…” he begins to trail off, tips of his ears turning red.

Your lips twitch. How cute.

“I was daydreaming and ended up back here,” you admit.

“You were,” he asks, surprised.

You nod. “May I ask what his Majesty is doing here? There are no royal guards… no druid, definitely no huntsman.” You can’t help the teasing lilt from lacing your tone.

Catching the sarcastic tint, Taehyung chuckles lowly, getting off his horse and walking closer to the front gate. “Well… I’m not stalking you if that’s what you’re worried about. I don’t… I don’t want you dead anymore — like, at all.”

You bite your bottom lip, unable to keep the smile at bay.

Taking your silence as discomfort, he starts rambling. “Jin told me to come visit the cabin. He said there was something I needed to pick up here - clearly, he was putting me up to something. Not that I’m not happy to see you, because I am! After all, you’re my saviour and I don’t - I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable at all…”

You walk towards him, stopping just shortly in front of him, the small gate dividing you two.

“I’m not uncomfortable, Your Grace. In fact,” you give him a small, but genuine smile. “I’m really happy to see you again. Even if you know, you’re not Caramel anymore.”

The blunette looks at you, unable to stop himself as he reaches out, hesitantly letting his fingers hover over your cheek. Noticing how unsure he is, you reach up, enveloping his large hand with yours, pressing the feel of his fingertips against the smooth expanse of your cheek. Your eyelids flutter at the touch, a content sigh leaving you.

“I’ll always be Caramel to you,” he whispers, like he’s afraid the moment will be ruined.

You watch him, gaze resting on his soft lips before moving up to his startling, electric gaze. By the gods. Jin was definitely right about Taehyung being the fairest of them all. Your heart skips a beat at the way he’s watching you. How you crave to taste him again.

As if sensing your inner thoughts, His Majesty moves closer to you, his free hand resting shyly on your upper arm and drawing you closer. “I’ve missed you,” he admits, a breath away from your lips.

Your heart thunders in your chest, loud and erratically. “I’ve missed you, too,” you murmur, eyes half-lidded as you look back at him.

“Can I…?”

You nod, tilting your head and enjoying just how warm his body heat is against yours.

A few strands of blue locks tickle your forehead and your cheek, but you don’t care - all that matters is the feel of Taehyung’s lips against your own.

So close… so cl—

“Ahem!”

The sound springs both you and Taehyung apart, effectively ruining the mood.

“Sorry, was I interrupting?” Jin’s voice echoes from between you two.

You watch as Taehyung shoots you an apologetic smile, stuffing his hands into his robes, rummaging around before pulling out a small, compact mirror.

“Hi, Y/N,” Jin chirps, as if he didn’t just ruin a beautiful moment between you and the King. You wave, unable to keep the smile from your face. It’s nice to see Jin again - even though the warlock calls you daily.

“So,” Jin sing-songs, “I come bearing good news! I’ve spoken with Taehyung - er, His Majesty, and he has agreed to have you as his royal noblewoman. You are his Saviour, after all!”

“Me?” You question, taken aback.

“I did?” Taehyung blurts out.

You turn to face the blue-haired man, but he looks just as surprised as you. Jin shoots Taehyung a dirty look and you watch as the the King hastily excuses himself, spinning and exchanging, quiet, angry grunts with the mirror warlock.

“You didn’t tell me—“

“Because you would’ve backed out!”

“I’m your King…!”

“King, my ass—“

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s alright. I don’t want or need to be a noblewoman. I’m sure Jin is just being helpful, but really, it puts unnecessary burden on His Majesty and I couldn’t do that,” you bow, quickly apologizing.

“Y/N, please don’t. No need to address me so formally. I… I would love for you to be a noblewoman of my court. In fact,” Taehyung blushes. “I would love it if you would consider being my right hand, alongside Namjoon as royal advisor. You have… eye-opening insight into things that I don’t understand. I value that - and you, in my life.”

You stare, eyes wide as saucers.

“I-if you want!” Taehyung quickly tacks on, hoping he doesn’t sound desperate. “It’s entirely your choice. Don’t feel forced to do anything!”

Bringing your hand to your mouth, you bite back a laugh. He’s too cute for his own good.

“Well… I love to, Your Majesty.”

A look of loving awe is on his face. “Really?”

“Really.”

Taehyung can’t keep the grin from adorning his handsome features as you two ride back to his castle.

+++

Life with Taehyung is beautiful.

The two of you danced around another for a few more months. He never brought up the kiss and neither did you. You both shared knowing glances and shy smiles, the sexual tension impalpable, but neither of you acted on it. It grew to a point that even Jin was beginning to complain about you two making lovey-dovey eyes at one another while having breakfast.

Still, no one could say that they didn’t notice the way Taehyung’s eyes lit up when you entered the room. Or how your smile was so bright and genuine when you saw him in passing or when you two finally sat down for dinner together.

It was an unspoken bond you two shared, a bubble that only you two lived together in.

Gone were the rags and now you dressed in riches each day. Sometimes you found it stuffy: the corset, the bellowing dresses - they just weren’t for you.

Of course, Taehyung noticed. And when he did, he went out of his way to have custom tailored pieces of clothing for you. Some were pants, others were dresses that didn’t have as many layers and poofiness to it.

Even though he wasn’t your Caramel anymore, he remained as by your side as ever.

You two went on adventures and journeys together, sometimes to other royal functions and others to more common events. Nonetheless, you two were well known throughout the land as inseparable - constantly glued to one another.

After dancing around one another for what felt like centuries, you and Taehyung were together in the library one special afternoon — very much alone and very much aware of that.

It was rather quiet at first. You trying to read a book, while Taehyung browsed through numerous legal documents Namjoon and Jungkook gathered from Jimin’s latest visit.

A frustrated groan and the book you were reading was forgotten. “Need some help, Tae?”

Ever since you two became closer, Taehyung no longer wanted to hear ‘His Majesty’ falling from your lips. He treated you as an equal to him and here you were, even giving him a personal nickname that you only used in private.

“Please. These documents are going to be the death of me,” he grumbles, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Hiding your smile, you pull up a seat beside him, leafing through the many aged scrolls. “Wow, Yoongi wasn’t kidding when he said we would be busy…”

“Not the kind of busy, I want to be,” you hear the blue-haired man complain under his breath.

You two work in silence despite the ever growing tension. Hours pass by and you two are still nowhere near done. You notice the stars are beginning to light the sky outside the window, the lantern dimming with the wax melting.

Moaning, you stretch, arms lifted above your head, your body taunt for just a split moment. You miss the way Taehyung’s mouth waters at the sight of slightly exposed skin - your navel. He draws his gaze away quickly, leaning forward to reach another document.

Unfortunately (read, fortunately), you’re also reaching for the same scroll. You tug, just as he pulls.

You go flying forward from the unexpected strength and Taehyung drops the scroll, immediately wrapping his arms around you to keep you from falling.

This close, you’re able to see just how long his lashes are. Wow. You blush.

“S-sorry,” you murmur, leaning up, your hands resting on his firm (has he been working out?) chest. You draw your gaze away from what may lay beneath the silken robes, eyes meeting his.

It’s quiet, save for the occasional drip of melting candle wax and the quiet creaks of the castle walls.

Taehyung can’t help the way his heart beats. You look breathtakingly beautiful in the dim lighting, similar to how you looked on the cabin porch all those months ago.

It’s now or never, he thinks. Fuck it—

“I want you.” Taehyung whispers, worried he’ll scare you away.

You draw back just slightly, drinking in his gaze. There’s not a single sign of hesitation or lie in his warm, brown eyes.  

“As do I,” you smile, sliding your hand up to gently cup his cheek.

He hums, tension bleeding out of his body at your response. He melts into your touch much in the same way his dog counterpart had many moons ago. “I love you, Y/N,” he breathes.

“I love you,” you confess, saying it out loud for the first time in your life. Taehyung’s eyes twinkle in the most beautiful way and it makes you feel like you’re floating on air.

“Let’s make a deal then,” you begin, leaning forward to press your forehead against his. “I’ll call a truce. Let you be known as the fairest of them all, as long as you promise to never try to murder me again.” You’re teasing him, playfully giggling.

You no longer hold any grudges and you’ve done nothing but let Taehyung know this ever since you’ve agreed to stay and live with him. Now, though, you know he finally hears and believes you.

Taehyung can’t help the smile that takes over. It’s boxy and youthful, lighting up his face in a boyish way and you love this expression on him more than anything. “Sure. And…” he wraps an arm tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “If you still love me in one year, we’ll get married.”

You scoff, but there isn’t any heat to your words. “What makes you think I’ll agree to that?”

“Because I love you and you love me, if I remember correctly,” he teases cheekily. You chuckle, melting into his embrace.

“Okay,” you whisper, agreeing to so much more.

“Okay?” he asks, just to make sure.

“Okay — yes. I’ll marry you, if you still love me in one year,” you giggle, agreeing.

Taehyung laughs and it is the single, most beautiful sound you’ve heard in all your life. You want to hear more of it and you want to be the reason for it even more.

“Now… before you let me officially court you, we need to finish these dreadful documents. And find out how to undo the curse on Jin. After all, we won’t hear the end of it if he’s not physically at the wedding!”

You nod, beaming, but you can’t help the way your heart flutters with how close Taehyung is beside you. “If you turn into a dog again, fair warning, I’m keeping you that way. Far cuter,” you tease.

Taehyung chuckles, “but then I can’t do this.”

Blinking, you draw back slightly. “Do what?”

He gives you a moment to reconsider, but you tilt your face and Taehyung leans in and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Do it again,” you whisper breathlessly, grip tightening on him.

Smiling, your lover leans down again. “As you wish, My Lady.”

You meet him halfway, your lips molding perfectly against his.

And so, as they say, in the Land of Fairytales…

Y/N and Taehyung lived Happily Ever After.

_______________________________________________

***Epilogue***

“Now that we’re married, we need to have an heir,” your husband logically reasons.

You laugh, turning to face him. You two have been recently wed and are now on your honeymoon.

All was well within the Land of Fairytales.

Jin was now a physical warlock again, no longer trapped inside the mirror. Said mirror was still in the throne room, though it now was kept as decoration and nostalgic memory more than anything else. He had decided to stay with you and Taehyung after he was set free, working alongside your husband as his close confidante and as Jin puts it, your personal ‘civilian consultant’. This meant that Jin would come and go as he pleases from the castle walls, blending in with everyone to get the latest details in case anything were to go awry for Taehyung or Jimin. How he got out of the mirror though… that is a tale for another time.

Now, onto the others: Jimin is happily running both Kingdoms while you and Taehyung are away. There’s a rumour floating around that he has eyes set on someone who’s just as stunning and kind-hearted as he. Jungkook and Hoseok remain the ever loyal, royal bodyguards. Though Hoseok smiles a lot more now that he’s got a brother in arms that he can trust to watch his back. Yoongi and Namjoon continue their royal advisor duties. In their spare time, along with Jin, the trio are browsing through ancient texts, learning more about the world of Magic and their endless properties.

Thus it leaves you and your husband. Married after a year of kisses, tears (good and bad), stargazing, browsing through magic texts, adventuring together to neighbouring kingdoms and worlds, and so much more. Together you’ve done it all and together you’ll continue to do it.

“Right now?” you tease, rubbing scented body oil onto your skin.

Taehyung watches you from his spot on your shared bed. He’s leaning down on his side and facing you, his eyes transfixed on you like a predator.

“All is well in the Kingdoms… we should have an heir,” Taehyung shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant.

“I dare say, you are just a horny dog,” you laugh, standing and knowing Taehyung is watching the way your silk robes fall around you, accentuating your curves for his eyes to feast upon.

“Is that new,” he wonders, sitting up to move towards the edge of the bed and reaching for you.

You hum, letting him pull you close so that his face rests happily against your chest.

“I bought it during our visit to the Fae Queen.”

Your husband makes a face and you laugh softly at that. “I didn’t like her.”

“Oh? She certainly took a liking to you. Heard all about how beautiful you are,” you continue to tease.

Taehyung huffs, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Don’t care,” he mumbles, listening to your heartbeat in your chest. “You are far more beautiful.”

“I love you,” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair gently.

“And I,” he begins, drawing back and pulling you down onto the bed. You gasp, falling forward. Catching yourself, you caging him between you, your arms and legs on either side of him. “I absolutely love you,” he purrs, eyes flashing.

You lean down and he meets you halfway. You both kiss, softly at first, but soon it becomes more passionate and heated with every second that passed.

His fingers are tugging at the silken knot of your robe, undoing it quickly and you draw back just enough, lips never leaving his. You slide the robe off of you, letting it pool around your waist. Taehyung tugs it off, the cloth discarded somewhere in the room.

His tongue licks at your lips for entrance and you more than eagerly grant him access. He sighs into your mouth, one hand cradling your back while the other is gripping at your exposed thigh.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, voice thick with lust.

“As are you, my Love,” you purr, pleasure seeping through you. You grind down ever so gently and he hisses, grip tightening on you. He’s hard now and you feel wetness pool into your centre at the stimulation.

The next moment, you’re pinned onto the bed, his lithe form above yours. “Fuck,” he grunts, eyes zeroing in on the lacy underwear you had chosen to wear to bed. “For me?” he wonders in awe.

You nod, biting on your bottom lip to hold back the whimper as his index finger drags down your cloth covered slit.

Smirking, he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your lips. “Use your words, sweetheart. You know how I enjoy our chats.”

Seeing you roll your eyes, he laughs.

Reaching a hand down, he cups your breast as you had forgone a bra tonight, rolling the nipple beneath his thumb and groaning when you gasp. Bringing his face closer, his lips wrap around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth greedily. His tongue is hot and wet, fingers coming up to pinch the other one.

You gasp, head thrown back, fingers threading through his hair in delight. Taehyung has a very talented mouth.

He moves away, bringing his lips to your exposed throat, sucking and pressing wet, open kisses against your skin. “Tell me what you want,” he whispers hungrily.

Not one to let your husband have the reigns just yet, you lean back onto your elbows, spreading your legs a bit more. You watch the way Taehyung’s eyes darken and practically salivate when he notices how soaked your panties are.

“I want your tongue in my pussy,” you taunt. “Fucking me with it until I cum.”

“Yes,” he growls.

His hand immediately flies forward, one to keep your thigh apart and the other slipping underneath the red lace. You hiss when you feel his nail scrape slightly, just enough to tease you. Watching your reaction, he smirks before he sinks one finger into you. You gasp loudly, body arching in delight at the way he stretches you. Hell — he’s good at this too.

The sight is delicious. Taehyung’s whole hand inside your panties, stretching the fabric and bulging it while he fingers your wet, clenching hole.

He finger fucks you until your grinding down, a gasp leaving your lips, eyes squeezed shut. You look so beautiful, your own fingers gripping the bedsheets to hold onto something as Taehyung makes you fall apart.

“Tae - I asked for you mouth,” you whimper, eyes half-lidded as you gaze back at him, pleasure coursing through you.

“Is that so,” he teases, a lazy smirk on his handsome face.

God, how you hate and love that smirk all at the same time.

“Taehyung,” you beg.

It’s on deaf ears because he presses two fingers next, the burn making your head spin with want. He knows just how you like that stretch, the burn that soon turns to immense pleasure.

Without warning, he removes his fingers and spreads your thighs with ease. You gasp as he dives in like a starved man. The lace underwear is lifted to the side as his mouth is on you within a moment, sucking your folds. The lewd sounds that echo in the room are embarrassing and you bring an arm up to cover your face. Your husband is enjoying himself a little too much, groaning at your taste. He watches you, watches the way you writhe in pleasure.

“Look at me,” he warns authoritatively, eyes flashing, one hand slapping your thigh. You quickly pull your arm away, eyes meeting his. They’re like molten lava, burning you to the very core.

You watch him, watch the way he devours you like you are his last meal. You can’t help yourself, the gasps and whimpers of pleasure leaving you as you ever so gently grind down on his face, rubbing your pussy deliciously against his nose and mouth. Your juices are soaking his chin and yet, you want so much more. Sensing it’s not enough, he brings his fingers back to your core, teasing your clit before sinking them inside you along with his talented tongue. The sounds you make are making him harder than he’d like to admit, gingerly rutting himself into the bed for some relief.

“T-Tae,” you gasp, fingers finding his hair and tugging. “Ah — I’m c-cum—,” you gasp, eyes squeezed shut. The words aren’t even fully out of your mouth before you’re pushed off the edge, coming hard. Taehyung’s efforts doubling as he keeps you against his tongue, working you through your intense orgasm.

Your husband keeps his rhythm up, until your fingers begin to gently nudge him off of you. Finally pulling away, he smirks at you, bringing his soiled fingers to his lips and popping them into his mouth. You feel your stomach stir in delight at the way his eyes roll to the back of his head, sucking your juices off, the lewd scene making you groan in pleasure at the sight.

“You pervert,” you grumble, no bite to your words as you wrap a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. The kiss is anything but innocent, tongues battling for dominance as you taste yourself on him.

“Want you,” you pout, pulling away. There’s a string of saliva connecting the two of you and you bite back a giggle at the way his eyes darken. Not waiting another moment, you tug his pants down, eyes feasting on the delicious sight before you.

Taehyung is hard.

His cock is big and when you reach out to wrap your hand around him, he’s hard and heavy in your grip. You moan at the sight of precum on his tip. Bending, you bring your mouth to him. You lick at the slit, earning a hiss from your lover, his eyes half-lidded as he watches you press kittenish licks here and there, before sticking your tongue out and sliding from tip to top. You envelope your mouth around one of his balls, sucking obscenely and using your hand to jerk off his hard cock simultaneously.  His taste is something you can’t live without, you realize not for the first time.

You release him, popping off lewdly as you continue to suck on his cock, eyes fluttering close at the salty taste. You want to take him fully into your mouth — have him hold you down as you deepthroat and choke on his cock — have him facefuck you until you’re crying, but his fingers find their way into your hair, curling into a fist and tugging you up and off of him.

“Next time,” he growls, voice hard. “Right now, I need to be inside you.”

You gaze up at him, unable to believe this is the same man that once hated you and in turn, accidentally turned into your adorable pomeranian stray. Now he’s your most beloved, your cherished half to the very end.

“I love you,” you murmur, unable to stop the words from leaving you.

His gaze softens and he brings you close, pressing a warm, soft kiss to your lips. “I love you more,” he hums, lips leaving yours to trail down your throat. “Lay back,” he groans, leaning back on his heels as he languidly strokes his hardened length. You’re entranced by the sight, but his words have you scrambling to obey.

Not wasting another moment, you lay back against the pillows, easily and lewdly spreading your legs for your husband after slipping your panties off and dropping them to the side. His gaze is sinful as he watches you, dark fringe hanging over his eyes.

You can see the way he’s straining to hold himself back. A faint smirk ghosts your lips, purposely tilting your head back, your free hand trailing your index finger over your inner thigh, inching closer to your swollen core. You are completely naked before him and Taehyung feels his breath hitch.

“You brat,” he chuckles breathlessly.

He moves towards you and you grab at his arms, pulling him against you. Using your hand, you take his cock into your grasp, moving it closer towards your centre. You both watch as you push his head into your entrance. Moans leave both of you as he sinks into you completely, filling you so fucking perfectly.

“Teach me a lesson,” you purr, licking a strip along his exposed neck, trailing your lips upwards until you’re enveloping his ear in a teasing suck.

Taehyung hisses and before you know it, he’s pulled out of you with you suddenly flipped onto your front — hands and knees.

A thrill shoots up your spine at the dominating aura rolling off your lover. Despite his rough manhandling, you smile to yourself when you feel his breath ghost behind your ear, one hand smoothing down your spine lovingly. “Is this alright, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you breathe, arching your back into his touch.

Taehyung moans and you feel him enter you in this position, hitting a whole new level of ecstasy. Your eyes flutter shut as you grip at the bedsheets, arching and pressing yourself until he’s fully seated inside you.

He chuckles at the way you give in to him, pulling back and making you writhe in pleasure at the way his thick cock hits your deepest parts. Each push and pull against your walls making you gasp in pleasure.

Your husband draws back just enough to spread your ass cheeks, watching the way his length sinks back into you and he groans — the perv, you think, unable to keep yourself from clenching at the thought. The fact that he’s getting off to this as much as you are — by the gods, you love this man.

Taehyung grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging you up so that your back is arched and pressed firmly against his chest. He smirks against your ear, pounding into you with a harsher rhythm now. “Fuck, look at you,” he teases, but his voice is breathless and he’s having trouble trying to keep himself together with how good you feel.

He’s panting into your ear like an animal in heat, one hand now wrapped securely around your throat, the other on your hip in a bruising grip. You laugh breathlessly, head thrown back and eyes closed — you just know the marks will be beautiful tomorrow morning.

“Tae—,” you whimper, moving in tandem with him. You feel just how much he throbs inside you, his cock wants release — you know his end is near, too. You chase your own high, your hips undulating and moans leaving your throat — fuck, you feel so good right now.

Noticing the lacy red underwear that you had discarded aside earlier, you reach for them and beam in triumph when your fingers enclose around the soft material. Balling it in your hand, you tilt your head back to see him biting on his bottom lip, thrusts becoming sloppier as he gets closer to his end.

Smirking, you shove the lacy material into his mouth, keeping your hand enclosed so that he can’t spit your panties out.

Taehyung’s eyes widen at the sudden onslaught, dark orbs watching you with unrestrained lust. He hisses something, it’s garbled but you can make out an expletive and your name.

His hand leaves your hip, finding your clit and begins rubbing furiously with two, slender digits. You gasp at the sudden onslaught of sensations, one hand still wrapped tightly around your throat, keeping your face tipped upwards.

You open your eyes, meeting his dark orbs. So fucking beautiful.

“I-inside,” you gasp, “cum inside, T-Tae—!“

It’s all you manage to get out, his fingers abusing your swollen clit, the rub so deliciously hot — you scream his name, body arching tightly as the cord unexpectedly snaps. Your hands fly up, one gripping at his sweaty, firm shoulder, the other on his round ass; anchoring you as you reach another euphoric orgasm.

Taehyung groans, spit soaking and dripping from his mouth onto your ruined panties. Still, he keeps it as a makeshift gag, dark eyes watching you tauntingly. He’s surrounded by your scent right now, inhaling you deeply. He begins to fuck you like a raged animal and you take it because it feels so good.

Even though your body is sore and used, you let him continue his assault. It won’t feel satisfying until he cums deep inside you. Impregnating you with his seed — claiming you for his own.

A deep, warning groan leaves his throat.

You tilt your face to watch as Taehyung uses your body like the good cumslut you are to reach his end. His eyes are dark, brows furrowed. His gaze falls upon you and you muster a tired smirk.

“Cum,” you weakly order, a whimper leaving you at the way he’s fucking your tired, oversensitive pussy.

That moment is all he needs —

you feel his body tighten and then he drops down onto you, sloppily thrusting into your sweet cunt as he holds you down.

“F-fuck—,” he hisses through your underwear, pulling you tight against him as he buries his face in your neck — an animalistic growl echoing from his throat — bucking up into you desperately now.

It’s so filthy and dirty and you love it.

You gasp in pleasure, feeling the now drenched panties fall from his mouth and onto your back.

His mouth presses open, wet kisses wherever he can reach — your neck, shoulder blade, ear, your cheek.

Taehyung cums and he fills your sweet cunt with his thick, hot seed. You reach your hand back, grabbing at his side to anchor yourself as he uses your body a few more thrusts, riding out his orgasm, both your juices making a squelching sound each time he fucks into your swollen pussy again.

Despite the angle of your arm, you manage to pull him closer, gasping silently. He pumps you full of his hot cum, so much that you’re certain without his cock the ropes of jizz would leak out of you. Your breathing is harsh, body twitching ever so slightly at the feeling of being filled with Taehyung’s thick load.

Said man isn’t much better off either, he’s panting in delight, peppering your exposed skin with kisses as he rides his orgasm out, rope after rope of thick white filling you just like what he wants. Even when he stills, you can’t help the way your pussy clenches around him, an added spurt leaving his softening cock to fill you up even more.

“Mmm,” you giggle breathlessly, one hand reaching up to entangle your fingers into his soft hair. “Think I’m pregnant yet?”

Taehyung laughs, the happy sound making your heart stir. “We can always do it again,” he winks, slowly and carefully pulling himself from you. Your body is turned until your on your back, meeting warm, brown eyes. “You alright, sweetheart?” he wonders, wet fringe sticking to his forehead.

“Absolutely,” you smile softly, fingers quickly tugging him down for a deep kiss.

Taehyung kisses back, making sure he doesn’t crush you with his weight. You wince when he pulls away and worrisome eyes fall on you. “Y/N…”

Your gaze falls to your thighs and you flush at seeing just how wet they are, Taehyung’s cum seeping out of your swollen centre and soaking the bedsheets mixed with your own arousal. “My goodness, you came a lot, Your Majesty,” you coyly tease.

Said King groans, dropping his face into your neck, one arm sliding around your waist and pulling you against his chest. “Don’t tease me, my Love, I think I can go again.”

Your eyes widen a fraction and you feel heat stir inside you at the thought of being fucked like that again. “In a moment, I’m going to ride you,” you promise, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I will only stop after you’ve filled me with another load of your seed.”

He laughs, the voice deep and soothing to your soul. “I truly, truly love you, Y/N.”

Tilting your face up, you meet his warm, loving gaze. There’s a bright smile on his handsome features, dark fringe hanging over his almond-shaped eyes and it makes your heart stir. Not just his beauty, but his soul and the feelings that fill you from the bottom of your heart because it’s him.

“And I,” you lean in closer; Taehyung meeting you halfway. “I truly love you, Taehyung.”

His arms feel like home and his lips… they’re just the icing on the cake of your happily ever after.

The End.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Lets Make Our Own Christmas Story

Summary- 3k Mike (Me) x You. Christmas time is here and you are all set to throw your party. Mike might also have a surprise that will make it the best Christmas of all. 

Dividers made by @firefly-graphics​

Warnings- Smut. Puppy walking in on that moment. 

A/N- YEAH I KNOW. I swear this is the last one. Cross my heart. I have been doing this little tiny piece since forever, so Im not holding onto it for a whole year. 

Series Masterlist

You woke up to feel Mike pressing behind you, nuzzling the back of your neck with the bristles on his chin and his hand massaging your belly. You hid a sleepy smile in the pillow for just a moment, feeling him rock his hips against your back side. His heavy erection grinding into you. 

“G’Mornin” His voice raspy in your ear, nipping just below your lobe. “It’s your day off isn’t it?” 

You wriggled back into him a bit to make him groan, which he did while dropping his head into the crook of your neck momentarily before going back to teasing along your neck and shoulders once more. 

“It is, which means… I should be sleeping in Mike and not being woken at six thirty in the morning.” You peeked at the bedside clock. Mike chuckled while his hand dipped between your thighs, doing lazy rubs on your folds to make you widen your legs more. 

“We could sleep afterwards? Go to breakfast, take Max down to that park by Scott's place?” He offered as he let his fingers coat in your slick, dragging it up to your clit and circled, lightly pressing down. 

Your head lifted to see where Max was exactly, and the pup was sitting at the end of the bed having heard the two of you waking up, tilting his head to look at the two of you. “Mike…” You shivered a bit, your muscles tightening with desire. 

“What Sweetheart?” He went harder, feeling you start to melt into his touch. 

“M-max is watching.” 

“So? He ain't hurting nothing.” His mouth fondled the curve, biting slightly to tease and you rocked into his fingers. 

“I don’t know, it's just weird? Can you just put him in the living room until we're done?” You whined a bit and Mike huffed a bit before pulling his fingers away.  

“Be right back.” He pushed off the bed and the puppy started wagging his tail excitedly when Mike scooped him up to tuck him under his arm. When Mike left, you rolled out of bed and ran to the bathroom to mess your hair into a sexy bedhead instead of a snarl hot mess, at the same time shoving a toothbrush in your mouth real quick. 

Heading down the hallway, Mike petted the wriggling pups head. “Okay buddy, just give me like an hour okay? Then I promise a walk where you can piss on every fire hydrant between here and the park. All the damn cookies you can cram in that cute mouth of yours. Just do me this solid, m’kay?” He set Max down and he wagged his tail again, drifting away from Mike heading towards his food and water dish. For good measure, Mike tossed a scoop of food in the bowl, which Max set upon enthusiastically. “Perfect, eat and go take a nap.” Sure that the puppy was occupied for a bit, he hurried back down the hallway to find you lounging back in bed, in which Mike bounced back in his spot, pulling you back in against him. “Ahh, now where were we Pretty Girl?” he paused a moment, taking in your appearance and catching a whiff of toothpaste, making him grin. "Cleaned up for me? I'm flattered. Wait, you want me to go brush my teeth right quick?" He made a move to get off the bed but you pulled him back down. 

"No, You started this, let's finish it." You took his hand before it could travel back down to tease you and sucked his fingertips, swirling your tongue around them and you could see those sharp blues widen, his pupils taking over. Pulling off with a pop you wriggle your ass against him once more. “You really going to take me to breakfast?” you asked with mock innocence and Mike snorted, his knee pressing between your thighs and spreading them till your leg hiked over his to hold you open. 

“Yea, yea… after this.” His wet fingers massaged a breast, plucking at your nipple while he reached between you two and circled his cock to run along your slit and press against your entrance which drew out a lewd moan while he stretched you. 

“Mmhh, this is almost as good.” You whimpered out as he pinched your nipple slightly while burying himself in you. “Okay better…” You clenched around him while he started making shallow thrusts into you. 

“Fuck this is way better.” Mike nibbled on your shoulder and rested a hand on your hip to hold you in place while he rutted behind you, the more you squeezed around him, the harder he would move. 

A moan escaped you in that early morning love making, making a grab for his hand and pulling it up to cover a breast which he started palming harshly while flushing kisses along your neck and at the hinge of your jaw. Twists of fingers started pulling on your nipples, making you wither against Mike as the pinches excited you. 

“Mmmh I know you love when I play with you like this.” Another twisted pull made your chest heave. After a few moments he went to the other, teasing all while he kept fucking you from behind, pausing every now and then to give a dirty grind. 

You both are caught up in the moment, Mike rolling you to your stomach to pin you underneath him, his hands covering yours and weaving fingers together, thighs caging yours. Its all a but sloppy, but you don’t care at this point with how good he felt pushing into you at this angle. Then the bedroom door creaked open and there was an pitter patter of feet. 

“Shit-” Mike groaned against your neck, knowing that Max just barged in on them. The puppy sat on the floor by the bed and started barking to get there attention. “Max quiet!” Mike said urgently, knowing earlier you were uneasy with him being in the room. 

You arched back into Mike's chest pressing you into the bed, hissing out. “Just ignore him, keep going.” 

“That's what I said before.” He groaned above you as he angled himself, having found your sweet spot that made you start squeezing around him and begging him to keep going. 

“I know what I said Mike… Fuck right there, I’m so close.” Your noises going from mewls in need to cries as that spiral of pleasure started to tighten in a threat to snap. Max’s barks started to turn into howls as both you and Mike slammed into each other, your orgasm making your walls lock around Mike's cock, and he rocked harshly into you with stuttering jerking hips till he shot his load into you and sunk over you in his own bliss. “Max hush!” Mike said louder and dropped a hand over the edge of the bed to ruffle Max’s ears and thankfully that distracted the puppy to quiet him. 

You whined under Mike a bit, twisting a bit to get comfy. “You gotta ease up a little bit Mike…” In which Mike pulled out and eased back a bit, allowing you to turn under him and run your hands along his back. “You know you are better than an alarm clock. Thanks for waiting till my day off for that though. I would have been late.” You chuckled softly, your fingers sliding up and down his back, twirling patterns across the muscles. 

Mike scooped Max up onto the bed, where he wriggled in between the two of you, flopped on his back so you could tickle his belly. “Did you forget to close the door?” You teased Mike who shrugged while pushing up to sit, going to grab some clothes from the dresser. 

“I was a bit distracted to think about closing the door. Besides, he didn't see anything, did you Bubba?” He grinned as he yanked his boxers on and Max thumped his tail hearing Mike. You nuzzled Max one last time and got up to get dressed too. “So we're still on for breakfast and the park?” 

“Sure but I gotta be back tonight to prep food for the party tonight.” You hummed while snapping your bra on and going into the bathroom to finish your routine. 

Mike stalled a minute while buckling his belt. “That's tonight?” 

“Mike, please don't tell me you forgot about it?” You looked out the bathroom door with a doubtful look and your boyfriend flashed a good natured grin. 

“Nah Baby, I got a mind like a steel trap.” He winked at you and you rolled your eyes before disappearing back into the bathroom. 

"You totally forgot." You retorted and Mike winked at Max while whispering. 

"That's what she thinks." He tickled under the pup's chin. 

It was later that evening, you had food spread on the counter, Mallory had come over early to help prep. Which was more her supervising and gossiping. You were sure to keep her supplied with plenty of sex on the beach drinks. 

"So… what do you think Mike got you this year?" Mallory asked with a knowing smirk. You side eyed her while fixing a veggie platter up, placing a bowl of dip in the middle and setting it on the counter. 

"No clue, but seeing you grin, I'm sure you do." 

Mallory huffed, going all dramatic on you with a flutter of her hand to her chest and dropping her lips into a o at the accusation. "I know no such thing." 

"Yea You do, but it's a surprise. So I don't want any hints Mal." You stressed and she rolled her eyes. 

"You take all the fun out of it Y/N" she scowled. "Well what did you get for him?"

You grinned, excited to get to reveal your surprise. "Okay, you know how much of an action buff he is?" 

Mallory tsked. "I do. Action just loses the dramatic and romance in writing though, I just don't understand…" 

You cut her off before she could continue. "I found an authentic Bruce Willis signed Die Hard poster. I had a few places take a look at it. Then had it framed. I'm going to wrap it up and hang it on the wall Christmas Day before he wakes up." 

Mallory nodded with a chuckle. "Damn, he is going to go ballistic." 

"I know! I can't wait." 

You heard the apartment door opening as well as several voices, so you dropped the conversation, going back to spiking some hot chocolate in the crock pot with peppermint schnapps and putting the lid back on when Mike, Scott, Scott’s boyfriend Neil, Samson and Lyle barged into the apartment, loaded with packages and case of beer, bottles of wine and a excited Max bouncing up and down around on his leash. You went into immediate hostess mode, directing where the presents went under the tree, beers in a cooler, and the wine opened to breathe. 

“Mmh, looks good Babe.” Mike wrapped an arm around you, looking over the spread of food on the counter, reaching to grab a cookie and snapped a bite of it between his teeth. “I can't believe you got all this put together, we weren't gone that long.” 

“I had help. Mallory was here early.” You grinned and Mallory held up her drink in acknowledgment. 

“I will have you know Mikey that I kept her right on track the whole time.” 

He snorted in disbelief and grabbed the vodka bottle to top off Mallorys glass as she held it out towards him. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” 

“Y/N, reign your boyfriend in please. If I wanted to be insulted I would be at the theater.” She stuck her tongue out at him and he mimicked her. 

“He can't be controlled, you know that. You've known him longer then I have.” 

Mallory hopped off the stool with a playful roll of her eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

“Love you to Mal.” Mike piped up while she flipped him off, going over to where the others were arguing who had the biggest present. Scott and Neill wandered over, Max flipped baby style in Scott’s arms, soaking up the attention. 

 “Scott is ready to claim Max as our child and take him home.” Neill grinned while pressing a kiss to Scott’s shoulder. Scott made a whimpering noise and whined out a bit. 

“Well look how cute he is, You love Uncle Scott and Neill, right?” Max wriggled in his arms and tackled Scott until he set him down where Max greeted his people, leaning his paws on your knee in a stand begging for a treat. 

“I have never seen you get all soft for a dog Scott.” Mike arched a brow and you leaned down to rub on Max’s face, wiggling your nose back at him. 

“He’s adorable, how could anyone not fall in love with him? And I'm sure Uncle Scott and Uncle Neil will be happy to have him come stay with them.” 

Mike grinned a bit, sharing a look with his best friend who winked back at him. “Oh you know Y/N, anytime, any day. Spoil and give him back right? I can teach him some manners too.” 

Neill tipped his head in a laugh and Mike had the dignity to look insulted. “Manners? He's got manners. Max Boy, come over here Bubba.” He beckoned the puppy, who happily followed him. Mike clapped his hands a moment to excite him, then dropped his hands for Max to put his front paws in and dance around the room for a few moments. 

Afterward they all gathered around the kitchen counter, snacking on food and talking about upcoming projects they all had going on, debating on when the next bowling tournament was going to take place. You and Mallory started mixing stronger drinks for yourselves, giggling together while snapping pictures with everyone. 

Mike watched you from the corner of his eye while you dragged Scott away from the group to dance ridiculously to Santa Baby and finally you crashed on the couch, cuddling with Max for a few moments to cool off when Mike excused himself from the others. Falling on the couch next to you, his arm going around your shoulder and he pressed his lips against your temple. 

“Having a good time Babe?” 

You happily nod and cuddle in closer, buzzed a bit from the alcohol and happy having your loved ones with you. “It's a great Christmas party, reminds me of the ones I had at home this time of year with my siblings and friends.” 

Mike let his fingers brush through your hair a bit, arching a brow. “They were like this gang?” The two of you watched the group shoot popcorn at one another, Samson loudly vocalizing how to properly catch popcorn, Lyle was just shoving handfuls in his mouth, Mallory attempting to prove Samson wrong by flicking them at him as he directed, and Neill effectively shooting them into Scott’s mouth, proving there was more then one method. 

“Pretty close. My brother is a professional beer pong player. I used to have the title though.” You bragged a bit and Mike laughed. 

“Well how would you like to get the title back? Granted if you beat me that is.” He wiggled a brow and you peeked up at him curiously. 

“Oh bring it on, as soon as I save the money for a trip, it's on Mister.” 

Mike leaned a bit to reach in his back pocket and pulled out two tickets to hand to you. “How about we go sooner rather than later Y/N?” 

You snatched the tickets, looking at the dates. They were for the day after Christmas all the way till after the New Years. Tickets to Boston. Your fingers clutched at the tickets and swallowed a bit to keep the knot of surprise down. “You mean it… were going to go see my family?” You twisted in your seat, holding the tickets at your chest. 

“You haven't been home in years Baby, I know you miss them. I already talked to the Head Nurse to give you the time off and I can bring my laptop to work on my script once in a while. I’m almost finished with it, I might be able to get it done before we leave.” 

It all sunk in what he was saying and you gave a squeal of excitement, launching yourself into Mike's lap and clutching his face to kiss him fiercely in excitement, babbling. “Baby I don't even know how to thank you. I don't need anything else, this is perfect. Thank you so much, I love it, I love you.” 

Mike just listened while rubbing your back as you let it all spill out, Mallory coming up behind the couch and leaning against it so she was level with you two leaning over it. “I see you finally told her you guys are going to Boston. Mikey, I know what you're gonna gettttt…” You reach over and cover Mallorys mouth. 

“Don't you dare spill it Mal!” 

Mallory jerked back with a wicked grin. Mike was always one to take the bait and he pinned you in his lap. “What? Come on Mallory, drop a hint because Y/N has been holding out on me.” 

She winked at the two of you while sipping from her drink. “You’re gonna get lucky Mike, that's what you are gonna get for Christmas.” 

You snorted, relieved Mallory didn't spoil your surprise. Giving a shrug, you nodded. “She's not wrong Mike.” 

Mike seemed to contemplate what you two were saying when he suddenly bellowed out. “Parties over! Everyone get out.” Which you smacked his chest and shook your head when the group suddenly went quiet in surprise. 

“He's kidding, guys!” you call out and they turn back to snacking and talking at the counter. 

Mike pulled you in closer, nipping at your earlobe and whispering to you. “No I’m not, I want my Christmas gift now.” 

“Mmmh, Later, I promise.” you rub his chest and place a sweet kiss on his lips before moving to a stand and pulling him up with you to rejoin the others. “We can make our own Christmas Story.”

[constantlyunlightening]

Quiet

Day 10: Public Places w/ Shoto Todoroki

Warnings/Other Kinks: Bratty Dom, cum play (i guess that’s what I’m gonna tag it as), panties in mouth

If you haven’t read my Shoto Todoroki NSFW headcannons, you should. Cuz this is in line with my bratty dom theories. Is he dumb or being a smartass? Who knows?

Anyway, Shoto is super fun to write. I really liked doing this one and I hope you guys like it too!

Disclaimers: 18+ years old to read, all characters are aged 20+

He told you the next time you wore that dress in public, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back. You had taken it as a compliment at the time, not a threat.

But on the day where the two of you were supposed to be heading to some fancy hero event, you found that specific dress laid out on your bed waiting for you. Honestly, you thought the gesture was adorable! Was Shoto picking out an outfit he wanted you in? You had simply forgotten all about what he had said last time.

So you put the dress on. 

It wasn’t until after the two of you mingled around the event a while before he pulled you to a corner and you heard his deep voice dance against your ear. “So you wore it? Remember what I said last time?” His voice bounced in your skull and the hand that heated up at your waist quickly jogged your memory. “I warned you.”

And with that, he dragged you away at the nearest opportunity and shoved you into a supply closet. That’s how you ended up with your dress hiked over your hips and Shoto fucking you into the walls of the tiny closet. 

You’re pretty sure the two of you had knocked something off the closet shelf in your flurry, but the cock pounding you into the wall made it really damn hard to think. Shoto had his head dipped down, lips and teeth and tongue attacking the flash that stretched your collar bone as he tightened his grip on your thighs. You were clawing at his back, trying to bite the inside of your cheek but the way he was tearing into you made it so hard to keep your noises down.

“Sho-shoto,” an urgent, whine of a whisper was all you could manage to hiss out without screaming. “I- if I make too much noise, we’re going to get caught.” A tangle of words, ushered out as quickly as possible to keep you from yelping as he speared deep into you.

He didn’t pause his hips, but he did pause the ministrations he had been trailing over you, only so he could look up at you with hues of smoke and frost. It was almost vexing how calm he looked. You were falling apart and other than the beads of sweat rolling down his face and a few labored pants. “Then stay quiet?” He offered, as if the solution were obvious. As if you could keep quiet with the hero pounding you senseless. 

With a raspy groan, you covered your mouth with a hand you detangled from his shirt and shook your head as his length rocked against your insides, slipping in and out much too snugly. “I-I cant-”

You couldn’t tell if the way he stared at you silently was him trying to actually access the situation or was him just hiding his smirk. Was he being a smartass with a poker face right now? Or was he genuinely racking his brain for a solution. You’ve been dating this man for how long now? And you still had no idea as to if he was the smartest person you knew or the dumbest. 

You weren’t ever going to find out you were pretty sure. Especially not right now with your whole body vibrating in need. 

He pulled out of you, and the seemingly randomness of it had you trying to suppress a yelp as your body strained with the sudden emptiness, trying to clamp over nothing. “Sho- what are you doing?” Your voice sounded pathetic even to your own ears as Shoto released your thighs, gently settling you back onto the ground. Had he decided to stop? Had the solution to her not making noise was to just be done? He sure didn’t seem frustrated at all but it wouldn’t be unlike him to leave you hanging and pretend like he was doing it to actually help. Or maybe he did think he was actually helping? Either way. He can’t just fuck the air out of you and stop! He couldn’t!

In your panic you failed to realize he had been working on tugging off your panties from underneath your dress  balling them up in his hands. You opened your mouth to question his actions again but in the next moment, the balled up lace was in your mouth. A muffled noise strangled out around it as Shoto was once again grabbing your thighs, and dragging you right back up against the wall and in the air. “I didn’t have a gag,” he stated simply as a small smile came to his lips. It looked so tender. But you couldn’t help but think it felt rather conniving. “It had a wet spot on it, so I know it tastes good too. But you can take it out if you think you can keep quiet on your own.”

The break without him inside you had been just long enough that the pleasure had mellowed out and left you with an ache-y opening from his earlier attack. And so when his head pushed back in, the sensitivity had you absolutely choking on your makeshift gag. You knew for a fact you wouldn’t be able to keep the noise down on your own. Shoto seemed well aware of this too as he slowly began to resheath himself in your heat, letting you adjust to the painful sensitivity and let your need build back up with each and every inch of him plugging into you. Again, that sweet smile had reached his lips as he got himself buried balls deep. “See? It worked.”

He seemed self satisfied. And it was hard to argue with saliva starting to pool at the back of your throat, dampening the lacey gag. Your hands were free. You could have reached out and removed it, but Shoto decided it was time to return to that pace from earlier without any warning. His hips were snapping up and you felt like you could feel him all the way to your stomach as he rocked you against the wall. You could no longer think about the way you could taste yourself on your panties, couldn’t think about how anyone could catch you two locked away in the closet, couldn’t think at all actually. You couldn’t even fucking see as your eyes rolled back into your skull.

He wasn’t kissing your neck anymore, but instead, focusing on watching your face contort into pleasure and you knew for a fact he was messing with you when he spoke up again with that same steady cadence. “Your eyes are looking weird. What’s wrong?” He questioned, concern etching his voice but he knew. He had made you make this face all the time and maybe he had been concerned the first couple but now he knew. Now he was just doing his very best to get under your skin as you helplessly wriggled your hips down onto him. “Should I stop?”

This little shit.

Don’t you dare! You tried to snap out at him but all that you could get out of your mouth garbled around the fabric and you felt a burst of drool dribble down your chin as you whined and huffed. And Shoto, your loving, caring, sweet, sweet partner found it within himself to fucking laugh. This man who had the poker face of a statue managed to find his sense of humor at your expense while he was balls deep inside of you. It wasn’t a boisterous laugh, hardly more than a chuckle but it was more than he usual produced. And the real kicker was, you were too senseless to even fully enjoy it right now. In contrast to the urgency in which he speared into you, he managed to let a hand move up to help clear the dribble off your face with his thumb before he regained his grasp on your thigh and continued wildly knocking your thoughts out of your head.

“I won’t stop unless you ask me to,” he murmured in reassurance as he dipped his head back down, and you missed the growl he let out against your skin as you trembled and writhed around him. He would have loved to take more time with you, but the event put you at a limit and he wasn’t about to leave his precious lover empty handed. 

He was about to leave you utterly full in fact. 

With the force from his speed keeping you suspended in place, his hand found a spot above your folds and the pad of his thumb found that sweet spot of yours fairly quickly. He groaned deeply in response to the muffled keening you gave off as he rolled your clit under his finger and as he teased and toyed and rammed his cock into your cervix, you gave in to an orgasm that rocked your whole body and he lost himself in tandem. You were filling up with sticky heat as Shoto left one last love bite against the expanse of your shoulder and your body milked him for every drop of his worth. He had to collect himself before he could slowly pull out of you, watching a drop of his essence plop on the ground beneath you.

You were shuddering as he carefully lowered you to the ground, trying to inhale deeper but choking on the concoction of saliva and lace. Shoto was kind enough to help fish out the soiled undergarments and let you flounder for air. 

“Are you alright?” Real concern this time as he brushed the hair out of your face and you were met with that combo of smog and snow as his gaze met yours. 

You slowly managed to nod your head but as you caught your breath and came to your senses, a few realizations hit you at once.

You were still in public.

And you were now filled with wet cum that was starting to leak down your inner thighs.

You moved to clench and you gave a loud whine. “Shoto! Why did you do that? I can’t clean up here.”

He blinked and his head tilted to the side and stared down at you. “Do what?”

Was he for real?

“You- its all up inside me now! How am I supposed to walk around right now? Why couldn’t you have picked somewhere we could wipe down?” You scolded quietly, embarrassment flooding through you at the thought of walking through the party like this. Then you spotted the damp pair of panties Shoto was holding in his hands and another flare of emotions ran through you. You groaned.

“I figured we didn’t want to make a mess in here. Was I wrong?” His brows furrowed and now you were left to believe that he seriously just didn’t think about the implications of his girlfriend having to walk around the rest of the evening filled with his load, and a pair of soaked underwear.

Or maybe his poker face was really just that good.

[captaincravatthecapricious]

Concussion- Prompt Fill

Jon falls out of a Kayak

CW nausea, concussion, hospital mention

Thanks for reading! I am still accepting bingo prompts (Bing card by the wonderful @celosiaa​)! Tell me a character and which prompt, and let me know if you want art or writing! The starred prompts are ones I already have received, and probably have outlined! (I am much faster at art just fyi).  Sorry this one took so long, I wrote it a week ago and hated it! 

Jon doesn’t like the outdoors.  In his experience it’s loud or wet or sandy or bright or crowded or filled with bugs or hot or spider ridden or just generally uncomfortable.  

But that doesn't matter, because he needs to prove that things are alright with Tim.  He has finally earned enough trust or goodwill or something to be invited on a kayaking trip.  

Even back when things were good, Jon rarely got invited along to these things.  Tim knows Jon isn't the outdoorsy sort, but occasionally invites him so he doesn't feel excluded.  

A traitorous part of Jon thinks that he was only invited as a joke.  But more of Jon doesn't care if that is true.  He earned that invitation, and it doesn't matter that he is baking in the heat or that driving to the lake made him carsick or that he already has 30 mosquito bites and counting.  He.  Does.  Not.  Care.  

It doesn't matter because he is here with Tim.  And Tim is having a good time.  

They paddle around the secluded lake for a couple hours.  Jon almost has fun.  He isn't having a bad time.  Tim has been cracking jokes, and Jon is having something adjacent to fun.  Not to mention... it just feels damn good to be included.  Usually it's Tim and Sasha, or on occasion Tim and Martin.  Not that this is the first time since... everything that Tim and Jon have been alone together... it's just.... Kayaking is important to Tim.  And Jon rarely merits such a heartfelt invitation.  And even if it isn't really his scene.  It's worth the itchiness, and sore muscles, and carsickness and oppressive heat.  It is all worth it.  

Jon doesn't really know how he ends up in the water.  One minute he is breathing hard, his back and shoulders burning after all that paddling, trying to convince himself that he probably doesn't need his inhaler (that he left in the car in any case), the next... he is in the water.  Life vest dragging him towards the surface... or where the surface would be if the kayak wasn't in the way.  

He cracks his head on textured, blue plastic, and it doesn't even have time to hurt before Tim is hauling him out of the lake.  

He can't say it really hurts.  Just the surprise, and  the moment of timelessness and involuntary tears when something smacks a person from nowhere.  The brief moment of everything being a little too sharp and a little too blurry all at once.  

He coughs as he breaks the surface and Tim's strong arms lift him back into the kayak as if he weighs nothing (which... Martin would say is the case).  It's probably the firefighter training.  

Water is streaming off him, and there is some sort of weed tangled in his hair.  

"Boss, you alright, there?" Tim clapping him on the shoulder, almost knocking him out of the kayak again.  (Jon isn't sure if the fact that it is a two seater is better or worse).  "Whoa there!"

Tim is steading him again.  He's honestly feeling a little dizzy and a little distant.  But that's probably just the surprise, right?  Probably.  

"Not your boss," he grumbles, trying his best to scowl despite how Bright everything is, and how he really is very very damp and how maybe jeans weren't his smartest move today.  He lets that hang for a beat.  "...Thanks Tim."  

He offers a tiny smile, trying not to shrink in on himself, like he did... back then.  

"Fine, you alright, buddy?  What even happened?"

Jon shrugs.  "I'm in one piece, I think."  

Tim fishes in the water for Jon's dropped paddle.  "Maybe it's time we head back, wouldn't want that to happen again.  I need you in top form if you wanna come out again with me!"  

His head is starting to hurt.  

Jon flushes slightly.  "I'd... really like that, Tim."

Tim hands him back the paddle and they head back towards shore, and the car, and their respective domesticities.  

The headache isn't exactly gone by the evening, but it isn't bad.  Not worth telling Martin about, although he couldn't escape Tim telling Martin how he fell out of the kayak, and having Tim show Martin the pictures of one very damp and disgruntled Jonathan Sims dripping in the kayak, and Jon in Tim's spare workout clothes in the car.  And Jon looking faintly ill with ginger ale clutched tightly with eyes closed on the way back.  And of course the selfie with Tim giving him a sloppy cheek smooch while Jon wears a truly terrible hat that he has no idea why Tim owns.  

Tim stays for dinner.  

By the time that Jon wakes up, Martin has already left for work.  

His head hurts.  Not migraine bad, but he makes a mental note to tuck some excedrin into his bag just in case.  Best to be prepared for these things.  

He drags himself upright with a groan, trying to ignore the way that the room tilts for a few moments as he gets up.  

School.  

Right.  

He's got work today.  And as long as Martin isn't there to be disappointed in his decision making, a headache is not going to stop him.  

It's too bright outside, and Jon isn’t hungry for breakfast.  Tea counts as breakfast, right?  That's good enough.  There's milk and sugar in there... that has to have enough calories to count for something, right?  It's fine.  

Halfway through class, Jon has to sit down.  Abruptly.  His lecture trailing off into a dizzy silence.  

The headache has become too distracting, the tilting of the room around him making it hard to stay tethered to the Earth's gravity.  He presses the heels of his hands against his eyelids, trying to stop the listing of the room.  

He hears a student calling his name, but he can't make himself parse out who.  And the Eye doesn't seem inclined to tell him.  

Which is probably for the best, because he is beginning to wonder if he can take much more headache.  

He doesn't know how long he's been down, but Martin is there now.  

Fluttering hands, checking him for a temperature, coaxing him to look up, shielding him from the fluorescent lighting.  

Jon leans into the cool of his hand.  

Martin's hands in his hair, smoothing away the bedhead, Jon forgot about before leaving the house.  Jon making an embarrassing sound as he relaxes into the touch.  

Until Martin reaches the crown of his head, and Jon hisses in pain.  

Martin has been talking to him the whole time, but the ringing in his ears has been too distracting to make out words until now.  "Jon?  Love, did you hit your head?  Can you look at me?  Tim said you fell yesterday, did you hit your head?"

Jon struggles against the painful light to meet Martin's gaze.  

Martin is shining a pen light in his eyes.  

Jon tries not to feel betrayed.  But the light Hurts.  And he just wants to go back to bed, and be held, or maybe have Martin bring him an ice pack, and he's starting to feel sick as well as dizzy.  

"Jon-love, we should get you to a hospital.  I need to get you actually looked at."  

Jon whines in complaint, but doesn't have the energy to argue as Martin guides him up, folding against Martin's chest, when his legs try to give with the pins and needles of inactivity.  

He doesn't want to go to the hospital.  It's bright and he is very tired.  And he feels so guilty that someone... probably one of his students called Martin in when Martin had likely just gotten off his shift and should be at home and sleeping and not scraping Jon's ass off the floor again.  

It hadn't been this bad earlier!  He's fine!  Really!  

"Jon-love, why didn't you say something?"

And Jon tries not to cry.  "I was fine... didn't hurt then."  

Martin tuts over him and holds him close.  

The hospital is just as bad as he fears, and he's pretty sure he guilty cried on Martin at least once, and possibly also took a nap in the waiting room, but when it's over, Martin shoos Jon into a waiting cab, and trundles them both home.  

Jon is dozing on the couch, because Martin is making dinner and he can't bear the thought of being farther away than one room over, and Jon has never been comfortable about the idea of eating in bed.  Breakfast in bed (Or dinner in this case) sounds good in theory, it just sounds messy and awkward in practice.  His phone has been confiscated after he sent a brief email to his students.  Martin wasn't happy that he already was ignoring the don't look at screens and don't think too much instructions.  

That will be an argument for tomorrow, and the next day until they eventually reach a compromise.  One Jon knows Martin won't be happy about, and one Jon will feel the bite of guilt over, but his students need him, and it really isn't a bad concussion.  He might let Martin fuss over him a little more than normal, but only until the extra work catches up with Martin.  Then it will be Jon's turn to look after him.  

“Jon, Tim just texted.  He says he’s sorry he didn’t know you were hurt, and that you don’t have to go with him again.”

Jon wants to cry again.  He breathes as deeply as he can, trying to draw courage into his lungs.  “Could you… tell him I Want to go?  I promise this won’t happen again?  I… had fun… and I want to go kayaking with him.”  

Martin enters the room with his phone in one hand, and a spatula in the other.  He kisses Jon’s forehead softly, and starts to type one-handed.   

“And please tell him to not feel badly?  I didn’t really notice until …well until you got called.  It was just a headache until then.  Not even a bad one.”

“Of course love, just tell me if it gets worse, alright?”

Jon hmms in agreement.  

[agapaic]

[19 days] sin city

this drabble is a gift to one of my dearest and biggest supporters, @geoviki​, who requested a bonus ‘second kiss’ continuation scene between he tian and guan shan in the ‘sweet tooth’ universe (a crazy rich asians-inspired fic), and i sincerely hope you enjoy it, viki! all my love, xxx

Guan Shan hasn’t set foot in God’s house since he was a kid. His mother goes every weekend when she doesn’t have a double shift, but he can’t bring himself to go with her. Too busy, too cynical. He knows he can’t struggle with his faith when he’s lost it; he doesn’t know if he ever found it. He knows without a doubt that he sins.

As it is, he isn’t burnt in the service, isn’t poisoned by the communion. He thinks that if anyone were to be dealt retribution then he wouldn’t be first in line. Singapore’s elite have bigger, dustier skeletons in their closets than Guan Shan, half-disintegrated with age.

He tells himself this through the readings and prayers and hymns he’s forgotten the words to, glances routinely through the stained-glass windows for a glimpse of an outside reality he can’t see. He can hear it: the rush of mid-morning traffic beyond the grassy verges of the church, neatly protected from the central business district by iron fencing and a half-acre of flower beds and rain trees.

Beneath the lip of the pew, where copies of the testaments, old and new, have been neatly placed and the firm, embroidered hassocks hang off metal hooks, He Tian squeezes Guan Shan’s hand.

‘Nearly done,’ he murmurs, while Father Joshua delivers his sermon on godliness in children and parental obedience.

Guan Shan's gaze slides to his. It’s one of the only things He Tian’s said the whole service.

‘You believe all this?’ he asks, whispering.

‘They do,’ He Tian replies, his lips barely moving.

Fans move lazily above them from the high steepled ceiling, their chains rattling over the din of the priest’s solemn tone. They don’t offer much: the inside of the church is still sticky with heat, and members of the congregation attempt to cool themselves with the service pamphlets or paperback copies of the Bible with broken spines and annotations in the margins.

From the seat in front of them, Guan Shan watches a bead of sweat slide down a woman’s neck, dampness collecting at the high laced collar of her Chanel dress. She has her own bamboo fan, painted with pretty avian sketches.

Guan Shan pulls his gaze away. ‘Which godly child are you?’ he asks He Tian quietly. ‘Absolom or Samuel?’

He Tian tries to hide a grin. ‘Destroyer of kingdoms or a monk?’ he questions, angling his head as if looking behind him. His breath is cool at Guan Shan’s ear. Guan Shan lets him lean close, breathing in sandalwood and khus oil. ‘Are those my only choices?’

Guan Shan sets his eyes forward. ‘Nothin’ else seems to be acceptable.’

‘Yes—they’re a stern lot.’

‘They should put their money where their mouth is.’

He Tian snorts quietly. He releases Guan Shan’s hand, and Guan Shan says nothing when his hand moves instead to rest innocently atop Guan Shan’s thigh.

‘He Tian…’ he starts to warn.

He Tian keeps his expression plain. ‘I told you if you came I’d make it worth your while.’

‘That’s not—’ Guan Shan bats his hand away. The gesture elicits a harsh smacking sound, and a few heads turn. Guan Shan presses his lips into a hard line. When eventually their attention shifts away again, Guan Shan hisses, ‘I’m not doin’ that.’

‘I thought you didn’t care much for His wrath,’ He Tian says, pointing discreetly upwards.

‘That’s got nothin’ to do with…’ Guan Shan breaks off. He Tian’s eyes are glittering. He’s joking with him. Guan Shan clenches his jaw. Murmuring, he says: ‘You shouldn’t mess with people like that.’

‘But you make it so much fun,’ He Tian whispers.

Guan Shan glares at him. He endures the rest of the sermon in stoic silence. Absolom, he thinks. He Tian, the destroyer of kingdoms—and young men’s hearts.

///

They linger outside after the sermon. The air is thick and charged with the aftermath of a morning thunderstorm, the ground wet with rain and the smell of petrichor. Guan Shan breathes in deeply, stepping back while He Tian greets strangers and allows middle-aged women to offer both cheeks for him to kiss, their husbands noticeably absent. They run their eyes over Guan Shan and the suit he’s going to make He Tian return by the end of the day, and He Tian politely evades their desire for introductions.

He knows everyone, Guan Shan realises, but it doesn’t surprise him. He’s seen the He family work a crowd at a party or a charity function. The lingering congregation of a Sunday mass is only another opportunity to schmooze and gossip.

‘Just another five minutes,’ He Tian murmurs at Guan Shan’s ear. ‘My father will have my hide if I don’t show my face for a decent length of time.’

‘How long’s that? By his standards?’

‘He’d have me go to brunch with someone’s mother and their daughter if he had his way.’

Guan Shan fingernails bite into his palms. The thought of He Tian being palmed off to some socialite’s offspring makes him bitter with jealousy. He’s seen He Tian only a few times since the charity function at the She estate, communicated with him mostly in veiled text messages and late night calls.

It’s been weeks since they’d shared the feeling of each other’s lips in a quiet room at the She mansion, weeks since they’d shared kueh with their legs dangling over the edge of a jetty across from Sentosa island. Most nights, Guan Shan still tastes both on his lips.

He’s got little stake to claim over the young heir of the He fortune, but he can’t help himself. He goes where He Tian asks him to, wears the suits He Tian buys him. Fuck, he’s started smoking his brand of cigarettes, too. And if He Tian wants to take him to church one Sunday morning so he has better company than a band of middle-aged women wanting him for themselves more than their daughters… Who is Guan Shan to say no after the first three times?

‘What are you thinking?’

Guan Shan blinks. Another church-goer has come and gone, and they’re alone. He Tian is watching him closely.

‘I want a cigarette,’ Guan Shan says. Technically, it’s not a lie.

He Tian snorts. ‘In the courtyard of our Lady of the Veil? Blasphemy, Mo Guan Shan.’

Guan Shan shrugs. He remembers their exchange at the threshold of the church, where two children no more than ten stood with a coin bowl held out, covered in pool-table green cloth and more cash than Guan Shan earns from a month’s tips.

‘I’m not a Catholic,’ he’d told He Tian, feeling strangely compelled to tell him with an even stranger degree of anxiety about the fact, as if it were a make-or-break moment for something they had that could neither be made nor broken.

He Tian had snorted then, too. ‘Don’t worry,’ he’d said, stepping through the doors, palming the children a few bills to line their pockets. ‘Neither am I.’

Now, Guan Shan watches as He Tian reaches into the lining of his suit jacket and pulls out a carton of cigarettes from the pocket. It’s too warm to stand outside in their Sunday best for long, and He Tian tugs Guan Shan over beneath the shade of an Indian-almond tree, its boughs offering some cool relief to a small section of the church courtyard.

Guan Shan watches He Tian light a cigarette between his lips, the flame close to his fingers. It catches; there’s a cherry red glow. Smoke blooms between them, and then He Tian plucks the cigarette from his lips and holds it out as if it’s a newly picked flower.

‘Here,’ he says. A moment passes, where Guan Shan doesn’t take it. ‘I thought you wanted it.’

‘I do, I just—’ Guan Shan can feel his cheeks starting to redden. He swallows. His throat has gone dry. He can hear the voices of men and women standing before the church. He knows some of them are watching, wondering, eager to know who his family is and where he’s come from and how he has captured He Tian’s attention with such painful, singular attentiveness.

‘You’re not—’ He Tian breaks off with a laugh. ‘You’re not worried that I’ve touched it, are you?’

Guan Shan looks away, and He Tian’s eyes widen.

‘Oh,’ he says. His smile grows wider. ‘Mo Guan Shan,’ he croons. ‘I didn’t know you were such a puritan. How proud He’d be.’

‘Shut up,’ Guan Shan mutters.

He Tian’s stance shifts, intrigued. ‘If I’d known it took an indirect kiss to make you blush, Man Upstairs be damned, I’d have put my mouth elsewhere a long time ago.’

‘Shut up.’

He Tian’s laughter is deep as he takes a drag of his cigarette. Some of the women are frowning at him. The hot breeze carries the smoke in their direction, and they waft it away with their fans and paper service pamphlets, rouged mouths pursing tightly. He smiles at them, all affable apologies, and they can’t begrudge him long.

‘They want you to fuck them,’ Guan Shan mutters.

He Tian’s eyes flick to his, and his smile grows indulgent. ‘I know,’ he says.

‘You’re not gonna do anythin’ about it?’

‘Like what?’

Guan Shan grits his teeth. ‘Like—tell them to fuck off?’

He Tian snorts. ‘They’re old friends of the family. And you forget they haven’t made me an offer, sweetheart.’

‘And if they did?’

He Tian considers him carefully. His playfulness begins to fade. ‘You’re jealous,’ he says. ‘Of them?’

‘They’d divorce their investment husbands if they knew they had a chance with you.’

He Tian taps cigarette ash to the ground. He looks away, squinting at the skyline, considering something, before taking a step forward.

‘Firstly,’ says He Tian, his voice low, ‘if they had a chance with me they’d know it. Secondly, there’d be no divorce or marriage to a man twenty years their junior because their reputations wouldn’t survive the scandal. And thirdly: what the fuck would I want with them when I have the prospect of a whole indirect kiss with you?’

Guan Shan glares at him. ‘Gimme that,’ he says, snatching the cigarette from He Tian’s fingers before putting it to his lips. He nearly chokes on the inhale, eyes watering, and smoke seeps from the corners of his mouth before he can control it the way he wants it to. There’s nothing attractive about it, but he catches He Tian watching him with an indulgent smile.

‘It’s been five minutes,’ He Tian says, taking a glance at his watch. ‘We can go now. I promised to buy you brunch. You’re still happy with Orchard Road?’

‘I’m not finished,’ Guan Shan says.

He Tian’s brows lift. ‘You can’t smoke and walk?’

‘I didn’t mean that.’

He Tian tilts his head. ‘Oh?’

‘I meant—it’s not really fair, is it? It’s always—always you kissin’ me, and shit.’

‘Always?’

‘Yeah, with the—distractin’ the guards at She Li’s house and with—’ He makes a vague gesture. ‘—the cigarette and—’

‘Guan Shan—’

‘—it’s only fair that I get to prove my own fuckin’ point too—’

‘Mo Guan Shan—’

‘So will you just shut up and let me kiss you?’

He Tian stares at him.

Then he swallows.

‘If you really want to,’ he starts, ‘I suppose I’m in no position to—mmphh!’

It isn’t tender or soft, and Guan Shan is vaguely aware of the cigarette burning to ash between his fingers. He lets it fall, hopes he’s ground it out beneath his foot properly and remembers to pick it up after or risk a fine, but first: this. His fingers tightly locked in the dark strands of He Tian’s hair; He Tian’s lips bruising against his own, the sharp gasps of the women loitering by the church doors.

It’s exactly as he remembers from last time. A crushing pressure, the sense of being caught unawares. No finesse. Guan Shan knows it could be slower, that they could take their time, a pilgrimage of vulnerability and one body learning another, but something possessive in him has taken over—this is a crusade.

He Tian’s answering kiss twists into a grin against Guan Shan’s mouth. Guan Shan swallows He Tian’s amusement down, finds the feel of He Tian’s smile against his lips unfairly alluring. He does his best to try and rid He Tian of it, crowding close until He Tian’s back hits the trunk of the almond tree and He Tian is groaning beneath the pressure of his lips. He tastes the acrid smoke of their shared cigarette and He Tian’s breath mints, feels the humid beat of the mid-morning sun—and He Tian’s hand pressing gently at his chest.

He pulls away, staggering and breathing hard. With satisfaction, he notes that He Tian is, too.

‘I think we’re even now,’ says He Tian, a slight rasp to his voice. His eyes are bright and he runs his thumbnail over his lower lip, which has gone swollen and red. ‘You’ve suitably convinced your audience.’

Guan Shan looks away. ‘Dunno what you’re talkin’ about.’

‘Oh?’ He Tian asks, amused. ‘That wasn’t you staking your claim?’

Guan Shan hesitates. Part of him can’t bear to look behind him. ‘Are you gonna be excommunicated?’

He Tian chuckles. ‘I’m sure I can find my way back in. Father Joshua is particularly fond of He Cheng’s hideously curvaceous Bugatti.’

‘Guess that’s somethin’,’ Guan Shan mutters.

In answer, He Tian sweeps a hand through the loose strands of Guan Shan’s red hair that have slipped down across his forehead. The touch is fond and familiar and makes Guan Shan swallow hard.

‘You know,’ says He Tian. ‘You can do that any time you want. Not just to prove a point.’

‘You haven’t,’ says Guan Shan, an accusation.

‘I didn’t want to scare you off. I realise last time I was a bit—���

‘Forceful?’

‘Abrupt,’ He Tian corrects delicately. ‘But still—I don’t want you to think you’re any less mine.’

Guan Shan looks at him. ‘Thought you couldn’t have anythin’ you wanted.’

‘Ah…’ He Tian drops his hand, leans back on the heels of his Louis Vitto’s. Almost boyishly, he says, ‘I thought it was a done deal. You and me.’

Guan Shan neither confirms or denies. Instead he asks, ‘Who’d you trade with to get that impression?’

He Tian nods his head upwards. ‘Did it work? I sold my soul for it. ’

‘And they still let you in?’

He Tian’s look is sinful. ‘They let the worst of us through.’

Guan Shan rolls his eyes. He wets his lips. ‘Well,’ he says. ‘I think you’re on a decent road to redemption.’

‘Is that your way of saying it was a worthwhile bargain?’ Tell me it worked.

‘Is that your way of askin’ if I’m yours?’ Guan Shan asks. All these riddles and metaphors—sometimes he has to bring them back to the ground, make sure they’re on the same page.

‘I—Yes.’

Guan Shan nods, then jerks his chin in a challenge. ‘Make me believe it and I might be.’

He Tian’s eyes flicker towards the church just for a moment, but then he smirks, reaffirming their closeness with one step. ‘Mo Guan Shan,’ he murmurs, angling his head down, ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

[knifefather]

Greetings yall! This is the fic that I wrote for my 100 followers contest winner, @meat-husband​. I headcanon that Melone is a Scorpio, so I thought it would be a fitting to throw him a birthday party for Formaggio and the reader to sneak out of lol. I hope you guys like it, it was very fun to write. 

➼ Title: Il Mio Regalo

➼ Pairing: Formaggio/Reader

➼ Fandom: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure

➼ Word Count: 2.4k

➼ Rating: Explicit, 18+

➼ Contains: Not sfw, car sex, scratching, biting, breeding, drunk sex, afab reader and she/her pronouns

➼ Summary: For Melone's birthday, you and the rest of La Squadra take your friend out to a drag queen club. You start teasing Formaggio on the dancefloor, and he takes you aside to show you some moves of his own.

➼ AO3

It was Formaggio and Illuso's brilliant idea to take Melone out to a drag queen club with the rest of the crew for his birthday. The purple-haired stand user was having a blast as he shot back drinks and flirted with any pretty face that passed him by. Ghiaccio sat beside him, complaining that the music was too loud, like he was known to do. "What is this shit? They call this music?" he ranted, crossing his arms angrily. On the other side of him sat Risotto, who sipped on a mixed drink. The alcohol seemed to not be affecting him whatsoever.

“Hey… Where are Sorbet and Gelato?” Melone slurred, looking around the table and the rest of the busy club. One of the performers that walked by caught his attention, and he followed her with his eyes and grinned wolfishly.

“Where do you think, birthday boy?” Illuso replied, tossing one of his braids over his shoulder with a sassy flourish.

Your little sexual escapade began when Formaggio suggested that you dance with him. “C’mon bambina, it’s getting a little boring sitting around, don’t you think?” he said, swinging his arm over your shoulder. He didn't have very much to drink and he was already demonstrating that sweet, carefree attitude that you loved about him so much. “You look cute as hell in that dress, it’d be a shame not to show you off a little,” he added before kissing your cheek, chuckling.

Pesci, who was drinking diet coke, blushed at the romantic display from your boyfriend. Prosciutto rolled his eyes before taking a shot of hard liquor.  

“I’d love to,” you said, allowing Formaggio to guide you to the dancefloor, his hand protectively on your waist.

“Pesci, Pros. You guys should dance, too. You’ve been sitting around like a buncha lameasses all night!” Melone said a little too loudly, pointing at them with his drink and subsequently spilling a bit onto the table. Risotto was quiet and gave the puddle of booze a disapproving look. Momentarily, Melone and Illuso were drunkenly pushing them towards the direction of the dancefloor as well. You and Formaggio had already picked up a groove, moving against each other to the catchy beat of the song playing over the speakers. Formaggio snuck a peak of Proscuitto and Pesci awkwardly trying to blend into the crowd nearby, but the way your hips were moving against his were much more interesting than what they were doing. He looked at you questioningly, cocking his shaved head, and you grinned in response, grinding your hips tantalizingly against his.

You could hear his sharp intake of breath above the loud music, and he reciprocated the act. It wasn’t difficult for you to feel the very obvious tent in his red pants.

“Sorry, mio coniglietta dolce (my sweet bunny), you know I can’t help myself…I’m just having an amazing time, and you look so beautiful," he babytalked as you slid your hands up his shoulders, over the studs of his jacket. “I love you, you know that?”

Your eyes softened as you gazed at him. “I love you too, Maggie. Why don’t we get out of here?” you suggested, whispering against his lips as you drew closer to him. He bit his lip and nodded his head quickly.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he agreed. He moved to pull away from you before stopping to think. “Where are we going to do it?” Formaggio asked, quirking his eyebrow. "We need to find a spot private enough." Damn. You didn’t think that far ahead. You already had a few ideas--you both could go behind the back of the club, or in the restrooms, but neither of those options was preferable to you at the moment. Prosciutto was the one that drove you, Formaggio, and Pesci to the club and you wished that you had brought your own car.

It seemed like your boyfriend had the same idea as you, because a realization dawned in his eyes and he gave a shit-eating grin.

“Where’s Pros?” he asked, looking around. By that point, he had lost sight of him and Pesci in the crowd. The stiff member in his pants made it even harder for him to focus.

“Shit, I’m not sure,” you replied, also looking around.

Then, the lights went down and the crowd began to cheer. One of the many stunning queens made her way to the stage and began to introduce one of the performers for the evening. You and Formaggio knew this would be the perfect time to jack Prosciutto’s keys off of him if you could find him. It wasn’t too difficult to spot him standing awkwardly on the side of the crowd along with Pesci. Formaggio rubbed his hands together schemingly before looking at you. “Watch this,” he told you, grinning, before shrinking himself down to about 150 centimeters. Carefully, he approached Proscuitto, keeping his footsteps light and merging into the crowd with ease. Formaggio was right behind the man, and carefully grabbed the keys that were hanging out of his pocket. By the time Proscuitto whipped around to confront whoever was behind him, your boyfriend was gone, shrinking himself down even smaller to escape into the crowd.

“Did you see someone just now?” the black-clad gangster asked his counterpart.

“What?” Pesci responded, enthralled by the performance of the queen and drowned out by the loud music that came from the speakers.

Formaggio returned to you, returning to his normal height of 178 centimeters. He smirked and jingled the keys in front of your face. “Cranky bastard won’t ever know. Let’s get out of here, babygirl,” he said, cocking his head towards the exit of the club and cheekily smacking your ass.

The whole club blurred by you as the both of you made your escape. Formaggio was leading you by the hand out into the dimly lit parking lot. In his other hand, he was excitedly jingling the pair of keys that did not belong to him. You wondered how long it would take Proscuitto to notice that they were missing and throw one of his bitchfits, but the heat in your loins superseded that thought. You had been on the edge of your seat since Formaggio took you onto the dancefloor, and you were ready for him to be inside you. The both of you approached the chic Italian sports car and Formaggio excitedly unlocked the vehicle. He opened the door to the backseat for you and smirked. “Ladies first,” he drawled, motioning towards it.

“Thank you,” you said coquettishly before climbing onto the cushy seats. Knowing that you and Formaggio were going to make Proscuitto’s car smell like sex somehow made you even slicker beneath your underwear. It wasn’t long before your boyfriend was climbing in beside you. You were on him quickly, climbing into his lap and kissing him with vigor. He gladly returned the gesture, running his hands down your back, sides, and finally cupping your ass. You ground your hips down against the outline of his cock in his trousers, and Formaggio carefully fingered the zipper of your dress, not tugging it down yet, but playing with you. You made a frustrated noise against his lips and pulled away, putting your hands brattily on his chest.

“Don’t toy with me please,” you whined, bucking your hips against his lap and making him laugh at your needy attitude. “I’m so fucking wet from the dancefloor, come on,” you urged, pouting at him. Formaggio could never resist your cute little pout. He was weak for you and everybody knew it, but he couldn't help it.

“If you ask, you shall receive,” he said coyly, an evil look spreading over his face while he eagerly unzipped your dress. You climbed out of it easily until you were bare on his lap. His hazel eyes trailed down your body appreciatively, taking in your beauty. “God… How did I get here? This is a dream, right?” he asked breathlessly, his eyes returning to your face while his hands slid up your stomach and sides to cup your breasts.

“You’re not dreaming. But you are wearing too many clothes,” you remarked, tugging off his jacket and leaving him in his skimpy green crop top. Formaggio agreed with you and started to undo his fly. It wasn’t long before you were both bare, hands all over in seconds. The windows of Proscuitto’s car began to fog.

Formaggio was excited and a bit hasty, guiding you onto his cock already. You gripped his shoulders and moaned brokenly as the blunt tip of his manhood began to penetrate you. He let out a satisfied sigh as he slid between your wet folds. “So good… You looked amazing while you were dancing,” he said as he bottomed out in you. His cheeks lit up a brilliant pink as he watched himself disappear inside you. You started grinding against his lap, a precursor to bouncing up and down on his cock. His mouth was left hanging open while your walls hugged his member.

He gripped your waist tight and guided you back down on every thrust, breathless. Formaggio couldn’t keep his lips off of you, and he began to kiss and suck on your neck while you moved. He nibbled at your skin and you hissed out a sound of both pain and pleasure. You could feel the vibrations of his laughter against you, your reactions making him nip harder. Formaggio left marks on your skin that the cut of your dress wouldn’t be able to hide, and that excited you. All of La Squadra would be able to see the evidence of your little quickie with him. You arched your back into each thrust, driving him deeper every time your thighs met. His pupils were blown, hazy from the alcohol and the sheer lust of being inside you. He moved down to your breast, leaving more marks, and you tossed your head back. The taste of your skin was vaguely salty, the man's eyes slipping closed as the taste blossomed on his tongue.

“M-Maggie… I’m r-really close…” you breathed, your legs trembling as you struggled to bounce on his lap. He could feel your effort and he took the opportunity to remove you from his lap and lay you down on the seats. Formaggio’s smiled dopily when he re-entered you, the new angle sending a deep sound erupting from him. He picked up the pace quickly, his arms planted on either side of you while he thrust into your cunt.

“Oh, cazzo! Me too, bella, me too,” he panted out. You ran your hands over his shaved head and down his back, holding on for dear life while he drove you to climax. You couldn’t restrain yourself from clawing his back, and your partner hissed as your blunt nails ran over his skin. “H-Ha...You’re practically begging me to stuff you full of my cum, aren’t you?” he whispered, his grin unbearably handsome.

His words made your pussy flutter around him and squeeze him like a vice. “Yes! Yesyesyes,” you babbled, pulling him close. You could feel him throbbing against your sensitive walls, every vein and ridge to his member dragging over your insides. Formaggio choked out a broken curse before burying himself deep inside you. He gave a shuddering breath as he emptied himself in you, but didn’t let up his pace. He could see the need in your facial expressions, your hands drawing him closer and closer, tearing up his shoulders.

Formaggio kissed you, hard, as your orgasm hit you. Your legs locked around him instinctively, pulling him as close as he could be as you tremble around him. Your sex dripped with slick and tightened around him, not wanting to let him go. His name fell from your lips over and over as you rode out your orgasm, feeling his warm seed slosh inside you. He was trembling, too, sweat beading down his forehead and his eyes unfocused. The inside of the car was now completely foggy, only the fuzzy streetlights illuminating the space. You both tried to catch your breaths, and after a moment of gathering himself, Formaggio was the first one to speak.

“You are fucking incredible. I’m so glad I'm the one who gets to date you,” he said before giving you a tender kiss on the lips. The compliment made your heart swell in your chest. Formaggio pulled away after a moment to reach into the glove compartment and pull out something to clean you with. You looked down between your legs to see that some of Formaggio’s cum got on the leather seats.

“How mad do you think Proscuitto is gonna be?” you said, looking down at it.

“Fuck 'im,” Formaggio said, nonchalantly, before the two of you busted up laughing, still not clothed. You leaned against each other, laughing until you were wheezing. Moments like these made you realize how much you were truly in love with him. Your gigglefest was disrupted by a pounding on the still foggy window.

“Are you two shitting me?” Prosuitto’s indignant, disappointed voice sounded from the other side. “On my leather seats? Really?” the gangster roared, scoffing and continuing to beat on the door.

“Big bro, you’re going to break the window--” Pesci tried to warn, blushing hard at catching the two of you in the car.

“Let ‘em have fun! It’s my birthday,” Melone cheered from outside too, laughing, his boots clicking around on the ground. You could hear Ghiaccio grumbling, and you assumed that Melone was heavily leaning against him. Formaggio smirked at the opportunity to rub it in the guys' faces before hollering back. "Sorry! I'm not sure where her panties went, you're going to have to give us a minute to find them!"

You punched him playfully in the arm, embarrassed, and he gathered you in his arms, holding you close to his chest. “It might be Melone’s birthday, but no gift he’s received tonight is a great as the one I have right here,” he said sweetly, the joking tone he used earlier gone. “I love you so much, tesora.”

“I love you too, Maggie… You’re my everything,” you told him, your gaze soft before you kissed him, just as grateful for him as he is for you.