#*sweats nervously the longer they stay in my drafts*

[mt-oe]

OK, MIZU X VERY CLINGY READER?? like reader deadass will NOT let go of Mizu unless necessary and mizu will tease reader about it in a loving way. like just imagine reader snuggling on top of Mizu and resting their head on her abdomen and she just says something in a teasing voice like- “mm you just gonna keep holding onto me like that, love?” OH MY GODSOMEONE NEEDS TO MAKE MY BRAIN SHUT UP PLS😭

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dear!

Thank you so much for the very cute and sweet request <3 Finally, a reason to push my drunk reader agenda forward www

Also, sorry if this took longer than usual. Hospital wifi sucked and my draft didn't save ;; I had to re-write a whole chunk purely from memory.

Not sure what is considered as 'lightweight' or whatever since I never really thought of those things when I drink, so if it's too much or too little then..oopsies.

Hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa :*

warning/s: not proofread, short, mention of vomiting (mild), she/her for mizu, implied afab reader

It was already a few hours past midnight. Mizu was laying down on the couch, reading a random book she had found in the book store. 'The Honjin Murders' was the title. The cover looked cool and even had a knife on it, so it definitely got her attention. Because as much as she didn't want to judge a book by its cover, she's only human. We have our moments like that.

On her chest was her girlfriend, eyes closed, and cheeks flushed and warm. An occasional mumbling noise or a slurred-out random question like 'do you think I can fight a bear with my bare hands?' would come from you. Mizu wouldn't admit it but she was having the time of her life right now.

You had just gotten back from a girl's night out with your friends. A little way of catching up after a whole semester of not seeing each other. Akemi and the others invited her too, but she wasn't really a big fan of the effects alcohol had on her body and opted to stay at home.

Upon opening the door, the sight of your heavily flushed face, drunken unconscious smile and the disheveled appearance of Ise and the other girls greeted her. You all reeked of alcohol, heavy perfume, and a bit of tobacco. "Umm..girlfriend delivery..?" Akemi chimed awkwardly, sweat dropping at the miffed look on Mizu's face.

She narrowed her eyes in response to the little joke as her eyes landed on you. "I was hoping you'd bring her back conscious," she said in a low tone, making them laugh nervously. You were being held up by two of Akemi's friends, face heavily flushed, hair tossed out of the hairdo you put it in earlier, and your lipstick was replaced by a thin sheen of saliva. With a sigh, she gently wrapped her arms around you before picking you up bridal style, cringing at the smell of beer coming from you.

The moment you felt her warmth around your figure, you opened your eyes slowly, blinking the blurriness brought by intoxication off before letting out a grunt. She felt you tilt your head upwards, looking at her before furrowing your eyebrows together, finger raised up to poke at her chin. "Would youu...rather have...urgh..my nipples are rubbing against my bra."

Yep.

That was definitely her cue to bring you inside.

After bringing you in, the 'full caretaker girlfriend' mode in her brain switched on. She immediately helped you get dressed into something comfy, removed your makeup and did your skincare for you, and handed everything you said you needed even though you didn't need it. Hell, she even shoved her finger down your throat to help you vomit.

You were her little intoxicated princess tonight.

Once she was done helping you out, she completely expected you to go to sleep after. Little did she know that you've decided to be the clingy-type of drunk tonight. A small strangled-like gasp escaped her throat as you pulled her by the back of her collar, burying your face on her neck. "Nooooo don't go!" you cried against her skin.

She tried her best to get you to sleep, knowing full well that you were going to be the grouchiest hungover in the morning, but whatever she tried didn't work. Watching youtube videos, having a staring contest with you, playing slow songs. Now, she was stuck with you laying on her chest as she read her book.

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?" you asked her, speech still a bit slurred. Mizu raised an eyebrow at your odd question. Realistically, she knew she wouldn't, but reality didn't really matter when it comes to love. Only her girlfriend's happiness did.

She closed her book slightly to look down at you. Her breath hitched slightly as your glossy eyes looked back up at her, melting at the adorable sight. "Of course I would," she answered, giving your head a little pat.

"Liar," you huffed, closing your eyes as you nuzzled against her. "I see you step on worms all the time. You'd step on me too."

She huffed back at you with an amused smile. She could feel the pout in your voice. "I promise I wo—"

"It's okay," you cut her off with a drunken giggle. You looked back up at her, trying to lift your head but the remaining alcohol in your system allowed you to do so for a few seconds before you crashed back on to her chest. "I'd let you step on me."

Mizu rolled her eyes at your response. "You're very drunk. You know that?" she asked you, setting her book down on the carpet to pinch your cheek. "How did they even get you this drunk?" The playful exasperation was heavy in her voice.

You grinned at her, snuggling your face in between her breasts. "Well.." you trailed off, giggling a bit. "We haaad...Jager in a pretty preeeeeetty frozen little shot glass, then we washed that down with beer.."

A slight shiver went down her spine as she felt your hot breath against her collarbone. Her hands moving your hair to cool you off a bit. "Then..we had Cuervo. Then we tried this...this..cocktail that tasted like chocolate.."

"No wonder," she sighed, wrapping her arms around you. Although Mizu had admittedly had her fair share of bad experiences with drunks (mostly leading to fist fights), she had to admit, you were definitely the cutest one yet. "Next time, try to drink a bit more responsibly, okay?"

You shook your head at her words, wrapping your arms around her tighter. "I don't want to drink responsibly. I want my girlfriend," you whined, making her snort. You were definitely still too drunk for this conversation. "My girlfrieeeeend.."

"And who's your girlfriend? What's she like?" Maybe if she played along, she could finally get you to sleep. Blue eyes watched you sigh, melting into her arms with a dreamy smile. "My girlfriend is...my Mizu!" you answered, laughing slightly as your head rested against her breast.

She could feel your arms hold onto her tighter, weight pushing down against her's as you started to get a bit more excited. "She's the prettiest, coolest, grumpiest person ever..and she's mine!" you rambled, an amused laugh escaping her lips at your words. "H-Hey! Don't laugh!"

Mizu smiled at you apologetically as you continued to pout at her in drunken grumpiness. "Sorry, sorry. How 'bout we go to bed and take a nap so you can see her in the morning?" she asked, still playing along. "No! Dun' wanna!" you replied in a bratty tone, huffing once again. "You're staying with me!"

Your arms held on to her tighter, legs wrapping around her's almost possessively. "Mmm..So you're just going to keep holding on to me like that, love?" she said teasingly. At your nod, she chuckled and lifted you a bit higher so your head rested against the pillow, nestled near her neck.

Slowly, she felt your body relax, fingers releasing their grip on her shirt. The rhythm of your breathing becoming steadier, the depth increasing. Once again, she picked up her book and continued to read, wanting to pass a bit more time to make sure you were fast asleep.

However, while she was half into the book, you suddenly lifted your head again. She raised an eyebrow, a bit taken back at the sudden movement. "What is it, love?" she asked, getting ready to get whatever you needed just in case.

Your eyes blinked sleepily before you leaned your head down, planting a kiss on her lips. "G'night..I love youu," you mumbled with a soft little smile before crashing back onto the pillow. She blinked in both surprise and mild astonishment.

A goodnight kiss?

While drunk out of your wits?

Lord help her.

There was no way she could fight off a smile after that display. How did she score such a cute wife? Mizu had to take a few deep breaths to keep herself from laughing at how cute that was. Who cares if you woke up grumpy from your hangover? This was definitely worth it.

[kim-poce]

Whumpee new Whumper 9 - Job

This series is all drafted and will be updated every wednesday.

Previous

Masterlist

=-=

“Liam!” May called entering the house, using his copy of the key to open the door instead of breaking it down, after the first month they realized that May not having a key made no sense as he would stay stuck inside, “Are you there? Liam? hey, pal, are you-”

“Imma here,” Liam asked in a sleepy voice as he got out of his room, he glanced at the clock on the wall, “It’s… it’s like five in the morning May what-”

“I got a job!” May said happily.

“Oh?” Liam asked, suddenly very much awake, “That’s great! Come here,” wrapped his friend into a hug, “Congratulations, where will you work?”

“One of these moving companies, you know, I’ll be carrying stuff in and out of trucks. Which is both easy to do and demands no thinking so that’s great!”

No thinking. Liam wanted to tell May he shouldn’t think so low of himself, that he wasn’t stupid like he belives, but it wasn’t the right moment and they would have time to talk now that May was living there so-

“And there is a nice motel near the place!” May said happily, “There also a apartment complex really close, I’ll talk to the landlady later today to see if she can hold a room until next month so I-”

“Wait wait wait wait,” Liam cut, rubbing his eyes as if the sleepiness had made him misunderstand the words, “You are leaving?”

“Hmmmm yeah?” May tilted his head, “I’m really grateful you let me stay for so long, but I can’t take advantage of you, right? So now that I have a job I can-”

“Wait wait wait. Let me- let us- sit down please, I- We need to talk about it, right? You can’t just move, right? I mean, you can, I won’t hold you but, I mean- let’s sit please.”

May sat down, tilting his head in confusion and cracking his knuckles in nervousness, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, of course not, I just… I thought… Listen, I’m glad you got a job, it’s great news! I’ll buy the ingredients to make a cake as soon as the market opens but…I thought you… liked living here…” the last words were barely a whisper.

“I like it! Liam, you know I do! but I don’t want to be a bother, so isn’t it better if I move?” aren't you better off without me?

“Of course not! You aren’t a bother at all, you are my friend, and I… did I, somehow, make you think you weren’t welcomed here?”

“No, no, no, you were great! Since the first day, I, on the other hand, …broke into your house, for example.”

“That was months ago, and looking back it was great because this brought you into my life,” he looked down, suddenly sweating too much. “You're not bothering me.”

“Still, I’m sure you liked living alone before I messed that up. You are a great pal! Allowing me to stay here, not getting bothered by everything, but you deserve better.”

“I think I expressed myself badly when I said you aren’t bothering me,” Liam said, May flinched at that and stopped breathing, “I’m not great at this talking about feelings thing May but, look at me,” May did, afraid that he would hear hurtful words “I like you living here, you are not bothering me, you are making my life better, I liked living alone and I love to live with you.”

May looked deep into his eyes, somewhat surprised, somewhat relieved, he opened his mouth to say something and closed again, smiling sweetly, unfit to his threatening appearance, “Well… the job isn’t that far so commuting would be pretty easy, from here I mean.”

Liam opened a wide smile, he aprouched May and pulled him into a longer hug. “You know what? Forget waiting, let’s drive until we find an open restaurant or something. We have things to celebrate.”

“We do,” May agreed, feeling the weight on his shoulders being lifted.

=-=

Taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain, @octopus-reactivated, @latenightcupsofcoffee, @rose-pinkie, @extemporary-username, @nicolepascaline

[prfctethereal]

just another horror movie. | james potter

pairing: james potter x reader

chapter: prologue

warnings: NSFW smut, oral (female and male receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, talks of a killer, general horror themes

word count: 2.9k

summary: its been a week since you’ve last seen your boyfriend as there is a murderer out and about you spend the night together, not knowing that they aren’t safe themselves. 

The power had long gone out, yet you couldn’t sleep, as the wind bashed against the side of your house. Home alone - your parents had gone away for the weekend - and the storm outside gave you the spooks. A faint candlelit light warmed the living room, silhouettes dancing across the walls, as you sat curled up on the couch, trying to get the noises out of your head.

A book lay open on your lap, a random page open, but your eyes couldn’t focus on the words. You were nervous - storms always made you like that - but there was nothing you could do. All you hoped was that the storm would blow over in the morning. All you hoped was that you would peacefully fall asleep and morning would come quickly.

A scratching at the door knocked you out of your trance. Your head flicked up, eyes glossing over the front door, as you listened out. You tried glancing out the window to see who it could be, but the outside was too foggy. You could barely make out the flickering street lamps.

Cautiously, you moved towards the front door, your book folded back neatly in your hand. Maybe you could use it as a battering ram if there was an attacker at the door.

In your left hand, you picked up a candle, shining it towards the door handle. Taking a deep breath in, you flung the door open. Well, you slowly opened it, but the howling wind opened the door further.

“Jesus sweetheart, you gon’ let me stay in this rain all evening, huh?”

It was only James Potter.

Giggling, you tugged on his shirt collar, pulling him into your house, dropping your book on the way. His shirt had been soaked by the rain, no doubt that he must’ve walked all the way here from his own house. His usually beat fluffy hair was sticking against his forehead, crystal droplets clinging against his face. He looked devilishly handsome from the weather.

Staring up at his hazel eyes, you bit your lip seductively, waiting for him to make a move. For a moment, it seemed like he was just going to stay there, peering down at you through his water clogged eyelashes. Eventually, a half smirk tugged on his cheeks, a gentle rouge returning to his skin as he warmed up against the candle.

You couldn’t handle the suspense much longer. You leaned upwards, pressing your lips against his hungrily. You drank him in momentarily, getting intoxicated on his flavour - something sweet and something bitter at once - until you pulled away, needing oxygen.

“That’s a lovely welcome wagon.” James said cheekily, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, his wet fingers brushing against your cheek bones. “I was starting to think you had forgotten me.”

“It’s only been a week.” You hummed, leaning your forehead against his, happy to be in his presence once again. “You know my parents don’t want me going out at the moment. They’re still so tense about the so-called killer roaming around.”

James pressed his lips to your cheek, calming your nervousness down with his touch. “I know darling. I wish they wouldn’t take it out on me though.” His soft voice vibrated against your skin. You hummed along to what he was saying.

“It’s not your fault.” You muttered. “I have you now.” You started kissing from his lips to his jawline. Your plush cushions left tiny marks on James’ skin as you nipped lightly. Listening to his light moans only spurred you on, tugging him from the entrance way to back into the living room.

Pushing him onto the couch, you straddled his lap, continuing your venture on his neck. Sucking and nibbling at the skin underneath James’ ear, your desire to see your marks on him grew. Pulling back, you admired the flush on his neck, the other warm scarlet hue already fading to a gentle violet. Underneath your heat, you could feel James’ growing bulge against you, making you groan with arousal.

You couldn’t help your excitement. Clawing at his chest, you tugged on his shirt some more, signalling that you wanted it off. In a frantic scramble of limbs, you both worked together to undo the buttons on James’ damp button-up. Pushing it off his shoulders and revealing his toned torso, you pressed your lips against his chest, smothering open mouth kisses across his pectorals, eliciting whimpers from the bespectacled man before you.

James bucked his hips against you, signalling that he was getting desperate. In an attempt to sooth his desires, you pulled yourself downwards onto your knees, looking up at him. “May I?” You asked for consent, resting your hand against his thighs, the pads of your fingers tracing delicate circles against the material of his jeans.

“Please.” James gulped, already breathing heavily. With a smirk, you hoisted yourself upwards again, hands fidgeting with the zipper on his jeans, undoing the top button. When the jeans would allow you, you pulled them down, revealing James’ girth, straining against his boxers. The sight alone made you grow wetter in your underwear.

With another nod of consent from James, you pulled down his boxers, his thick member slapping against his stomach, red and angry from the tensing beforehand. Lethargically, you stroked the palm of your hand against his skin, spreading the leaking precum from his tip all over his length, making it smoother to handle.

Quickening your pace, you looked up at the fine young man before you, whose eyes were squeezed right from the pleasure. Except, you wanted him to look at you. It had been over a week since you had last been intimate and you wanted the attention on yourself. You were the one pleasuring James, not the inside of his eyelids.

“Look at me,” you whispered against his cock, “I’m the one making you a whimpering mess.” In an attempt to please you, James looked down at you, fixing his eyes to the way you pressed gentle kisses to the underside of his cock, your lips rubbing across his sensitive veins.

“S-so good.” James whimpered, as you took the beginning of his length into your mouth, suckling on the head. “Please… I need more. Please give me more. I’ll be so good to you, please, just give me all of your mouth. I beg of you, give me more.”

Satisfied with James’ begging, you started downwards on his cock again, trying to fit as much as possible in your mouth. As you were entirely caught up in the way James was falling apart beneath you, you didn’t notice the scratching at your window, until the wind had entirely slammed against it, rain pelting the pane of glass. The swinging window had opened itself up from the ferociousness of the storm, a cool draft interrupting your intimate moment.

A chill ran up the back of your spine, and it wasn’t from arousal. You took yourself off of James’ cock, giggling as to disperse the tension. His thigh muscles were flexed and tense, sweating beading from his palms. Sitting up slightly, you placed your hand against his, a feeble attempt to calm his racing mind.

“It was just the wind, love.” You murmured, sitting back on your heels, making your way to the open window. The hissing rain coated you in a thin layer of ice cold water, as you poked your head outside, checking the yard to see if anyone was there. Exactly like you thought, no one was there, except for a stray rodent in the grass. Satisfied, you closed the window, double checking the lock to make sure it was locked tight.

Spinning around again, you noticed James’ attention wasn’t on you once again. A frown appeared on your lips as you followed James’ gaze outwards into the kitchen. “Babe..” He whimpered again.

“What’s wrong?”

“The lights.” James paused, turning his head back towards you once again. “They were flickering.”

“Impossible.” You scoffed, strutting back towards James, placing your hands on his shoulders lovingly. “The power went out hours ago.”

You could tell James was still nervous, and rightly so. For the past few weeks, it seemed like a serial killer had invited themself into the neighbourhood, slaughtering mischievous teenagers whenever they could. Luckily, it hasn’t affected your friend group much, but it has still rocked you and your community. Your parents even refused to send you back to school.

They were hesitant to even go out his weekend, but you convinced them it was a good idea, as to leave you alone from their constant pestering.

“Would you like to go upstairs to my bedroom, love?” That peaked James’ interest, who immediately started flashing puppy dog eyes, as if that would convince you further. Grinning sweetly, you took his hand in yours, pulling his pants up momentarily, as you grabbed a candle.

Hand in hand, you walked up your creaky stairs together, with you leading the way with your candle. When you reached the landing, you invited James into your bedroom, closing the door behind you to set the mood even more.

Gently placing the candle on your bedside table, you laid yourself against your plush comforter, spreading your clothed legs to tease James slightly. It was just then when James realised that you were fully clothed when he had already lost his shirt and some of his pants. Greedily, he lunged forward, nimble fingers working at the hem of your shirt.

“Please can I take this off?” James asked sweetly, meeting your eyes with his. Humming in affirmation, James ripped the top through the middle, receiving a chuckle from you. He plunged his face into your protruding breasts, inhaling the scent on your skin. His hands worked subconsciously against your arms, pushing the remains of your shirt off of your body. When the last of that flimsy material was off of you, you swung your hands behind you, unhooking your bra, revealing your perky tits fully to your boyfriend, who looked like he had just won the lottery.

“Go ahead darling.” You affirmed to the boy, who immediately latched his mouth onto your nipple, humming in delight at your taste. At that moment, you felt like heaven. The soft noises of James sucking against you brought you peace in this stressful time.

You felt James move across to your other tit as your eyes glossed over to your open curtains. In a flash, you saw a darting figure, something solid and dark standing within your tree. When you looked back, it was gone.

Must’ve been a trick of the light.

You were getting too worked up again. To move the thoughts out of your head, you gently reached underneath James’ chin, tilting his face upwards, stroking his cheek with your hand. You reattached your lips to his, pushing the anxious thoughts away, only focusing on the person giving you pleasure in the moment.

“May I?” James nosed at your jaw, taking in deep breaths, yet you were unsure of what exactly he wanted. Smirking, you cocked your head to the side, pouting ever so slightly.

“What do you want darling?” You teased, letting your finger wander across James’ skin. “If you want something, you have to ask.”

James was slowly turning into a whimpering mess as he continued nosing at your neck, placing gentle kisses to your sensitive skin when he felt like it, something you let him do lightly, as he was still a little spooked from the window situation.

Then, you felt James’ hands travel south, trying to connect to whatever skin was available. You understood in that moment what he wanted, grinning cheekily and tugging his face down. With your approval, James looked delighted, flipping your skirt upwards and pulling down your panties. Mesmerised by how your arousal had already soaked through the material, his jaw fell open slightly.

James dove in, kissing and nibbling at your quivering cunt. He licked a fast stripe up the entire length of your pussy, finishing at your throbbing clit. It was screaming to be touched from James’ accidental teasing. When he eventually attached his lips to your clit and sucked, you arched your back off of the bed in pleasure, blissful to finally be getting what you wanted.

His playful tongue teased your entrance, dipping in momentarily before completely pulling out. You hadn’t realised how much you needed him until now, but you let him have your fun. He was your good boy after all.

James continued his venture of your cunt, feasting upon it like a starving man. You tried to keep your eyes on him - to admire the sight and to not be a hypocrite - but your eyes wandered towards the window. You had the full view of the tree once again. You still couldn’t get that figure out of your head, as much as you would like to with the adoring man between your legs.

A crash rang out from downstairs.

In an instant, James shot up from between you, looking at your bedroom door that was pulled shut. You could’ve sworn that you had even heard James growl slightly. Reaching towards him, you carded your fingers in his hair, scratching at his scalp in an aid to sooth him.

“Shh- shh- shh, it will just be my cat darling, don’t fret.” You tilted his head back towards you, pulling him upwards so he was hovering over your naked body. You stretched upwards, connecting your lips with his, tasting yourself on his tongue. You moaned into his mouth, the feeling of his cock pressing against his lower stomach getting to you.

“I need you in me. Please, I want you.” You begged, showing a little submissive behaviour to redirect James’ attention. It worked. His eyes were fixed on you once again, his tongue darting out from his mouth to lick his lips.

“Okay love, just lie back.” James hummed to himself as he lined up his member with your entrance. Looking back at you for consent once again, which you granted with a nod, he entered your tight cunt, a moan escaping his lips.

It felt like ecstasy to be connected once again so intimately. You had forgotten how obsessed you were with the way he slotted into you. Bottoming out, he started thrusting with more effort, pushing himself along so you would fall apart. James’ favourite thing ever was the look you made when you came.

Trailing your fingers downwards, you played with your own clit, feeling your back arch from the bed. It was all too good. James was thrusting into you like it was your first time, and it almost made you forget about the storm outside.

Almost.

It seemed like your eyes were transfixed on your window. The rain was now peltering down ever harder, as if that was possible. As your own orgasm grew, it felt like the storm did too. Sweat was dripping down your face, but it felt like icy rain against your hot, flushed skin.

The lack of control was driving you mad. In a last attempt to clear your anxiety, you pushed James onto his back, his cock slipping out of you momentarily, until you straddled him once again.

Riding him made you feel better. James was back to moaning beneath you and you were calming down. The only sound that you were focused on was the sound of your skin slapping against each other and James’ heavy groans echoing off the walls.

“May I cum?” You had almost forgotten about James for a second. His eyes were screwed shut and it seemed like he had been asking for permission for a while, something that your senses must’ve skipped over. In a way to reassure your boyfriend, you ran your fingers over his chest, focusing attention on his tight nipples.

“Of course, such a good boy for me.” And with that, James came with a shout. You could feel the hot ribbons of his cum filling you up, as James toyed with your clit, desperate to make you cum against his cock before he softened. It didn’t take long as only seconds after James came, you came with him, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave, knocking over all of your senses.

When you came to, you noticed a scared look back on James’ face. Confused, you peered over to where he was looking, and heard it too. Banging against your bedroom door, someone was in your house and someone was trying to get into your room.

You screamed. It was the only thing you could do. Finding a rogue sweater off the ground, you struggled to push it over your head as James scrambled to pull his pants up. When you both felt like you were dressed enough, you rushed over to your bedroom window, opening it desperately.

A splatter of rain water hit your face, cooling you from your previous exhibitions. There was a tree right next to your window, which you reached out to, curling your fingers onto the branch. Looking back, you saw the door begin to open and panic settled in you.

You jumped. You jumped from a second story, landing not so ideally on your ankle. You hissed in pain and James followed suit, only he managed to land in a skilled way.

“Come on, hurry.” James pestered you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and hoisting you up. You began running away from your house together, your sprained ankle slowing you down more than you would’ve liked.

When you looked back, all you could see was a hollow figure standing on the footpath, watching you.

*** a/n: i wrote something again hell yeah

[sweettodo]

Good girl ⟿ Hisoka Morow [ teacher ] x reader

Includes : raw sex, semi- public, praising, teacher x student. Reader is aged !

word count : 2,5k

this is for 200 followers, some more teacher stuff for you lil sluts <3 enjoy ! maybe I’ll write sun more 😏.

••

You knew it was such a terrible idea, you knew you would be in so much trouble if anyone found out; but how couldn’t you resist? He has quite the magic touch.

Plus, how could you resist, especially when you were his, and his only?

Professor’s pretty little doll, his little fruit, he could do whatever he wanted to you and you would be so much as begging on your knees for more, you were his; to fulfill his every urge and twisted need. He knew your limits, he knew not to subject you to any unwanted pain, but he also wanted to erect every nerve in your body and stimulate it until you were unable to walk; or move for that matter.

It wasn’t for the grade anymore, admittedly, it was never really for the grade to begin with, and not to mention, you were in too deep, you were falling in love with the man, thighs had just happened that you nor him could explain. He never failed at treating you like a princess, his perfect little girl. 

It was hard to contain yourself in English class every other day; you didn’t know if it were just you, could it be one sided? Was he thinking about you as much as you were thinking about him? Nonetheless, you paid attention to nothing other than the man who certainly had you swooned, staring at his tall figure, muscular legs and that tight back, you were light headed and breathless when he would wear that constricting white button-up, just like today; the shirt tightening around his biceps whilst he wrote on the board, daydreaming about you being in his bed, vulnerable, tying you up to the bedposts and toying with you all night into the morning, per usual.

“Y/n?” You snap out of your childish gaze, everyone's eyes are on you, waiting for your response, you had no idea what to say and you quickly become flustered, “were you listening, y/l/n?” he crosses his arms; ‘well don’t act like my teacher or anything’ you scoff silently.

“Uh- n-no, sorry sir.” nervously chuckling, your teacher shakes his head, a small ‘tch’ as he continues to look at you in disappointment.

He sighs, followed by a quick and strict, “stay after class.” Your thighs immediately clench, sitting up in your seat and wiggling, he has to know what he’s doing, you nod and he continues teaching. If it weren't for his hold on you, you wouldn’t be having these sinful thoughts, he knew how to flip the switch, he knew how to drive you absolutely fucking mad.

You finish your assignment, now just waiting for class to wrap up, the bell finally rings, kids charging out of class to enjoy their weekend; you walk slowly to the front of your teacher’s desk, ready to face the wrath of the man, hes ushering kids out the door, waiting for the last kid to leave before he’s closing and locking the door behind him, shutting the shade to block anyone from looking in, he turns around and tilts his head, “what’s on your mind, I can’t have you zoning out in my class.” He interrogates, only a foot away from you, his arms crossed and tense, awaiting your response.

“I was just distracted- thinking about things…” you drag, looking down at your feet, unable to meet his intimidating gaze, his arms unfold, your eyes trail up his towering body, golden eyes burning holes into your skull.

“What were you thinking about?” he asks, “more specifically, what had you wiggling in your seat?” his hand tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb caressing your sensitive skin, chills riddling your bones.

“You, Mr. morrow.” you spoke under your breath, his eyebrow quirks up, obviously pleased with your forthcoming answer, “it’s just, what you’re wearing…” you mutter, he drags his thumb under your chin, bringing your head up, you could faint on the spot, the feeling he stirred up was indescribable.

“Yeah? You like what I’m wearing, princess?” He hums, you nod, looking up at him through your eyelashes, he chuckles, his hand trailing down to your throat, lightly squeezing, you were so in love with him, in love the way he touched you, in love with the way he took care of you, “You know, I just can’t take my mind off of you, you know that?” He says, taking his hand off your throat and grabbing your hand, leading you to sit on the end of his large desk.

“Really?” you reply, opening your legs only a little so he can stand closer to you, he replies with a small ‘hmm’ and places his hands on your bare knees. You subconsciously wore skirts almost every class, or leggings, to ensure easy access for your professor, this wouldn’t be the case if you weren’t such a hungry whore for your teacher. He rubs your thighs, only slightly going under the black skirt, you were tickled with excitement.

“Of course princess, you’re always on daddy’s mind, you know that.” You bite your bottom lip, legs opening a little more, “but, I can’t have you failing this semester, you know I don’t like it when you’re a bad girl, right princess?” He speaks, you nod.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’ll pay attention.” You ensure, your hand touching his belt buckle teasingly, a small smile on your face as Hisoka’s eyes glance down to see what you were doing, “maybe.”

He smirks, “My, are you saying I’m a bad teacher? That I’m at fault for your distraction?” His hands stop moving, removing them from your thighs, you shrug in response, taking his belt back into the grasp of your fingers, “do you want to get me in trouble princess? Imagine the trouble we would be in if I gave you what you wanted.” Your fingers begin to unloop the buckle, tugging him closer to you. 

“I’m sorry professor, but that hasn’t stopped you before.” His eyes widen slightly, you knew that would get him going, his fingers reach the back of your head, tugging your roots yo your head is forced upwards, his other hand finishing the unhooking of his belt as he rips it out of the loops of his slacks, he dips his head down, kissing down your jawline until reaching the corner of your lips, stopping and you pout, he smiles when he sees your neglectful pout, he wanted to kiss you badly, but what was the fun of not watching you beg?

“On your knees, pretty girl.” it took you no longer than a second to slide off the desk and onto your knees, he laughs, “god, so so good.” He’s overcome with happiness when he sees you following orders, you unbutton his pants, already feeling the tightness of his growing cock beneath the fabric of his pants. Pulling them down, freeing him from those tight pants, the tent in his boxers got you beyond excited. You knead him through the thin fabric, his hand already bunching up your hair to clear your face so he could look at his dick destroy your throat.

“You like sucking my cock, don’t you? C’mon, open up.” your tongue slipping out, welcoming his rock hard cock to fuck your throat, he was happy to see you were so compliant today. His hands cup your face as he slides into your wetness, a little groan leaving his mouth as he slips further into you. He guides your head as he sees fit, not wanting to come within the first few seconds, he makes sure to go extra slow, he needs to save his seed for your pretty little pussy.

As he pulls out of your throat, your tongue swirls around his tip, he swears under his breath, followed by a mantra of your name, he shoves himself as far down your throat as he can, making sure you choke and gag so your throat can constrict around him, tears bubbling at the waterline of your eyes from the restriction of air, pouring down your cheeks, causing the black makeup to seep down your face. “Do you want me to fuck you? Right here?” He purrs, finally releasing you from around his cock, you pant, trying to fill your lungs back up.

“Yes I do, please fuck me, please daddy.” You beg, still on your knees, he smiles.

He pulls you to your feet, pushing you down onto the desk, “‘fucking love it when you beg princess, you need my cock that bad?” You look back at him, nodding, “let’s see how wet you are, yeah?” You lower your head and let him take over, the cold desk against your face making you tingle, he flips up your skirt, the draft of cool air making you shiver. His large hands kneading your ass, pulling apart your cheeks to let your underwear move towards your heat, he grabs ahold of your underwear, pulling it up your back, you gasp, the pressure of the fabric pressing against your screaming cunt, “You better keep quiet, or you’re going to be in much more trouble when we get home, okay pretty girl?” He’s moving your underwear down past your ass until they’re just above your knees caps, your legs spread enough for him to drag his wet tip up and down your cunt, teasing you before sliding his tip just past your entrance.

“Already sucking me in, good fucking girl.” he spits, your left clenching your teeth to prevent you from moaning out, he slowly fills you up, fitting him perfectly, his hips hit your ass, before slowly pulling out and plunging back in, you weren’t going to be able to keep quiet, covering your mouth with your hand as your teacher fucks you raw in a classroom.

“I- I won’t be able to do it, sir, I can’t stay quiet.” You moan, he picks up the pace, cockhead peeking at your cervix, the pain rung throughout your body, it hurts so incredibly good, you screw your eyes shut, keeping your hand glued to your mouth as you screamed into your palm.

“Shut up! be quiet y/n.” Hisoka hisses, trying to gain back some authority, but he failed miserably, he was falling apart at the seams, your pussy did magical things to him. Sweat beading at his forehead, he could barely keep it together, sloppy thrusts filling you to the max.

He pulls out of you, grabbing you by your shoulder and flipping you over, forcing you on your back over the desk, quickly pulling your undergarments off so he can pin your legs open and back so he can dive back into your cunt. While pinning one leg down, he uses the other to cover your mouth, his body leaning over yours as he fucks you again, your legs wrap around his waist, face inches from yours, breath fanning your face as he slams into you, you wail out in pleasure under his heavy hand, drilling into you mercilessly as you could do nothing but look at him with tears pouring from your eyes. He was animalistic, those once pretty and light eyes were now dark, devilish, full of lust.

You were so close to orgasming, the repeated pounding of that one spot was driving you over the edge, you gripped your legs around him tighter, clenching your walls around his thick cock as your eyes rolled back and you cream all over him, creating more of a slippery lube bathing his wet cock. He isn’t far behind you, the sticky sound of your hips slamming against each other probably could’ve gotten you caught, but you two were so high on cloud nine that all you needed to do was reach climax and then you could ensure you both wouldn’t get yourselves caught; Hisoka was so close, “god, this fucking pussy, all mine, keep squeezing me like that princess- god- I’m gonna fill you with my kids, til’ I’m pouring out of you.” He whispers into your ear, you whine under his hand, stomach tightening more and more.

Your hands find themselves either gripping his hair or gripping his back, wishing you had sheets beneath you so you could grip, instead of this desk. Maintaining eye contact is one thing Hisoka loved most, watching those beady eyes; they told him what you were feeling, whether it be pain, sadness, those eyes you had when you were at your climax, he loved those pearly little things.

His dick starts twitching, long, yet hard strokes as he slows his pace, staggered breathing as he releases into you, feeling hot liquid cover your walls, he stops and stays inside your soaked cunt for a few minutes before slowly pulling out, “Such a good girl, always doing what daddy want’s, you never cease to amaze me.” Catching his breath, his cheeks red from the workout. You lay there, somewhat unable to move, feeling both Hisoka’s and your own juices drip out of your cunt, seeping onto your ass and down to the surface of the desk. 

Your Professor and you definitely took this privacy for granted, what were you two thinking? But that was so far back in your irresponsible heads. The sudden adrenaline rush you both are overcome with when someone is knocking on his classroom door, “Professor, I have a question about the homework,” sends you flying to your feet, pulling up your underwear and making a run for your desk so it looks like you were sitting there working the whole time, Hisoka is throwing his pants on and tossing his belt under his desk, shuffling towards the door, trying to compose himself as he is unlocking the door and opening it, a student stands there with a paper in his hand.

“Sure,” taking the paper from his hand, the boy glances behind Hisoka’s shoulder, eyes landing on my own, he sends me a look of confusion, your eyes widen; you looked a fucking mess, eye makeup smeared everywhere and most likely staining your face. There was no avoiding this one, you were beyond humiliated, dropping your head down to avoid your peers eyes.

“Making her cry Professor? That’s not nice!” He jokes, Hisoka glances over his shoulder and makes eye contact with you, a smug look covering his face.

“Maybe if she paid attention in class she wouldn’t be crying would she.” He taunts, you blush and look back down. 

That was too close.

[disastermages]

Part 3 of the au where Xiao Xingchen raises Wei Wuxian

--

“Are you really going to let him name his sword “Whatever?”” Song Zichen asks, coming to stand beside Xiao Xingchen and letting their shoulders brush together as he nods ahead to where Wei Ying stands with Baoshan Sanren. She’d pulled him away as soon as she’d deemed the sword gifting ceremony over with, ordering both Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen to leave her alone with her grandson for a few minutes.

Chuckling, Xiao Xingchen shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning into Song Zichen’s space just a little bit. “Suibian is A-Ying’s sword, I couldn’t deny him whatever name he wanted to give it even if I wanted to.” Song Zichen laughs fondly at that, already far too used to Wei Ying and the way he did things.

Both he and Song Zichen had stood in the places of Wei Ying’s parents, kneeling down behind him as Baoshan Sanren held the sword in her hands, covered in a white cloth until she’d spoken his courtesy name and asked him to take the sword up in his own hands. He’d barely been able to sit still while they waited and Xiao Xingchen remembers the feeling well. Cangse had been the only one sitting behind him then, snickering as she sent jolts of spiritual energy up his back to make sitting still even harder.

A glare from Baoshan Sanren had been the only thing that could make her stop, and even then he’d known she was still smiling.

Distantly, Xiao Xingchen wonders if his sister would have minded that they’d stood in for her and Wei Changze, his face pulling into something thoughtful. He’d been so surprised that Song Zichen had been allowed to join them on the mountain that he’d just gone wherever Baoshan Sanren had told him to go.

“Bring your young man up with you, A-Chen.” She’d said, her eyes scanning over the three of them as they stood at the base of the mountain, ignoring the way they’d gawked at her and then each other as she turned and walked past the barrier that separated her from the rest of the world. Song Zichen had been prepared to wait at the base of the mountain for them and camp until they came back down.

“What are you thinking about?” Song Zichen asks, snapping Xiao Xingchen out of his thoughts with a gentle voice, bringing him back to the present.

Shaking his head, Xiao Xingchen swallows down what his grandmaster extending her invitation to Song Zichen could mean. “I’m only thinking about what my Shijie would think of this.” He means all of it, that Wei Ying was old enough to have his own sword, that they’d been allowed back onto the mountain for the ceremony, that the second they’d reached the summit, Xiao Xingchen had been drafted into putting the finishing touches onto everything.

Baoshan Sanren had said it was because he was the one who knew Wei Ying best, but the way she’d pulled Song Zichen away hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Song Zichen seems to take his words seriously though, his eyes on Wei Ying as he speaks. “From what I’ve heard, I think she’d be thrilled about the name of his sword.” Xiao Xingchen smiles at that, he could almost hear Cangse’s laughter. She would have loved the name Wei Ying picked, but then again, she would have loved any name that he could have chosen. “She might’ve been disappointed that the ceremony went so smoothly, though.”

Xiao Xingchen actually laughs at that, brushing his shoulder against Song Zichen’s now, because he was allowed to. When Wei Ying had been young enough to want them for bedtime stories, Song Zichen had overheard enough tales about Cangse to know that she was more than all the rumors of a powerful rogue cultivator had built her up to be.

“What did you talk about with Grandmaster?” Xiao Xingchen asks quietly, eyes narrowing for only a moment as he watches Baoshan Sanren call her own sword, though he relaxes when he sees her kneel down so Wei Ying could look at it, his hand reaching out experimentally at first, but then more firmly when she nods approvingly.

He can feel Song Zichen tense beside him before he relaxes again, “I thought you might’ve noticed that.” There’s a nervousness to Song Zichen’s voice as he speaks, his own eyes staring far beyond where Baoshan Sanren stood with Wei Ying. “She asked me what my intentions with you were.” There was more, Xiao Xingchen knew that much, his grandmaster wasn’t one to mince words and he could hardly imagine her pulling Song Zichen away just to ask him such a simple question.

It must show on his face, because Song Zichen clears his throat and starts to speak again, “And then she asked me if we’d taken our bows yet.” This time, Xiao Xingchen nearly drops Shuanghua.

It was indeed just like Baoshan Sanren to say what she meant and ask the questions that mattered, but not like this. There’s already an apology on Xiao Xingchen’s tongue when Song Zichen stops him.

“She said we could do them here, if we wanted.” There’s a hopefulness on Song Zichen’s face as he speaks now, though the nervousness hasn’t completely left his eyes. “I told her I would mention it to you before I could give her an answer.” Xiao Xingchen’s mouth hangs open now, regaining his grip on Shuanghua as he turns his head to look at his grandmaster again, this time she’s looking back at him.

“Tell me what you’re thinking?” Song Zichen had taken his hand, Xiao Xingchen notices, a rare burst of affection right out in the open, and it only makes Xiao Xingchen’s throat feel tighter.

“Alright.” Xiao Xingchen says finally, the smile coming back to his face as he laces his fingers between Song Zichen’s.

They would tell Wei Ying together, Xiao Xingchen decides quickly, he already called Song Zichen Uncle, it would only make sense.

The next time Xiao Xingchen looks up, Wei Ying is running back towards him and Baoshan Sanren trails behind him, a satisfied smile on her face as she watches Wei Ying crash into Xiao Xingchen and wrap his arms around him tightly.

“Don’t run with your sword.” Song Zichen says, his voice faux scolding as he taps Fuxue’s hilt against Suibian’s, but the smile hasn't dropped off his face either.

~

“This is from a batch my granddaughter made before she left for Qishan, it should cure any minor illness he managed to catch in the rain.” The old woman says as she holds the bottle out to Xiao Xingchen. The liquid inside the bottle was dark and viscous, but if it could break Wei Ying’s fever, Xiao Xingchen would do everything he could to get him to take it.

“Thank you, Madam Wen.” Xiao Xingchen says, reaching for his money pouch when Mrs. Wen holds a hand up to stop him, her face serious.

“Dafan Wens believe in repaying every kindness, Daozhang. If it hadn’t been for the three of you, those spirits would have become a bigger problem, I will not accept payment when the debt is ours.”

Truthfully, they hadn’t intended to stay in Dafan Mountain as long as they had, they’d only come to take care of the beasts’ spirits that were stirring up trouble, but the mountain’s weather had been rainy and cold, and Wei Ying had fallen far more ill than Xiao Xingchen had ever seen him.

Something catches in Xiao Xingchen’s throat when he speaks again, pulling his arms into a circle as he bows. “Thank you again, Madam Wen, I’ll make sure he takes it.”

When she senses that he won’t argue with her any longer, Madam Wen smiles, her face becoming far more gentle. “Call me Granny, everyone does.”

Xiao Xingchen makes his way out of the apothecary after that, hurrying to the house the Wens had put them up in since their arrival. Maybe Wei Ying’s fever had broken in the few minutes Xiao Xingchen had been gone, maybe he was sitting up in the bed and telling Song Lan that he didn’t need to rest anymore, that he felt fine. Xiao Xingchen could hope.

Those hopes are dashed the second he walks through the door and he sees Song Lan wring out a towel before he places it over Wei Ying’s forehead again.

“Has he ever gotten sick like this?” Song Lan asks, helping Xiao Xingchen prop Wei Ying up long enough to pour the medicine down his throat before they lay him back down again. Wei Ying doesn’t fight them, he doesn’t even argue or complain about the taste of the medicine, he just tries to turn in the direction of familiar hands.

“Never like this.” Xiao Xingchen says gravely, stroking back hair that had gone frizzy with sweat. Wei Ying had only just stopped shivering a few hours before Xiao Xingchen had gone to the apothecary, it hadn’t been much progress, but it had been better than nothing. “He’d gotten sick a few times after I’d found him, but it wasn’t ever anything like this.”

All of Wei Ying’s illnesses before had been few and far between, a cold or a stomach flu, a bout of seasickness the first time Xiao Xingchen had ever taken him somewhere by boat, but they’d all been simple things that he knew how to remedy himself.

When Xiao Xingchen dares to look up from Wei Ying’s face, Song Lan’s mouth is pressed into a stubborn frown.

“What are you thinking?” Xiao Xingchen asks his husband, his hand moving to squeeze Wei Ying’s shoulder when he whimpers.

Finally, after a few beats of silence, Song Lan moves to sit on the edge of the bed on the opposite side of Xiao Xingchen, fingers plucking at a loose string on the quilt. “Do you remember seeing any of the spirits touch him?”

Xiao Xingchen goes still as he thinks. The beasts’ spirits had been more aggressive than usual, charging at them in death when they’d been passive in life, any one of them could have been touched by one of the spirits in the fight. “Do you think he might have been?” Xiao Xingchen asks, reaching out for Wei Ying’s golden core with his own spiritual energy. It was there, strong and vibrant as it had always been, but between the illness and the medicine, it had become sluggish and slow to respond.

“They taught us at the temple that certain spirits could drain someone of their health without the victim being aware of it right away.” Song Lan explains, his eyes heavy on Xiao Xingchen’s as he speaks. “The victims almost always recover, but the process is slower or faster depending on their core’s strength.”

Xiao Xingchen was aware of such spirits, he’d put plenty of them down, but he’d never been affected by them. Xiao Xingchen swallows thickly as he replaces the towel on his nephew’s forehead. He could remember seeing Wei Ying blocking the spirits with Suibian, but he hadn’t been able to give his full attention when he’d been fighting two at a time himself.

“If we knew for sure, there would be more we could do for him.” Xiao Xingchen says. It was such an obvious statement, but how could they know? Wei Ying bore no curse mark, Xiao Xingchen had checked for that early on, when Wei Ying’s skin had become pale and his eyes had gone glassy.

“We’ll do what we can right now, Xingchen.” Song Lan says quietly, his hand on his shoulder, though his eyes haven’t left Wei Ying’s face.

Reaching back, Xiao Xingchen holds onto Song Lan’s hand tightly.

“Go to sleep, I’ll sit with him tonight.” Song Lan’s voice is soft at his back as Xiao Xingchen kneels at Wei Ying’s bedside. They had barely been able to get him to stay awake long enough to get enough dinner in him to balance out the medicine, Xiao Xingchen couldn’t leave.

When he turns to look at him, Song Lan’s hair is down, and he’s already in his sleeping robe, though he holds Xiao Xingchen’s in his hand. He smiles as he shakes his head, resting his cheek against the mattress as he holds back a yawn. “I’ll stay up with him tonight, you can do it tomorrow.”

Whether or not Wei Ying was miraculously feeling better by tomorrow was still up in the air, though Xiao Xingchen hoped.

For a moment, it looked as though Song Lan were about to argue with him, but then he’s kneeling down next to him, setting the sleeping robe down between them. “Wake me up in a few hours?” He asks, eyes darting up to Wei Ying’s sleeping face and Xiao Xingchen nods, dropping a hand onto his husband’s knee before he stands up again.

It must be close to midnight when Xiao Xingchen wakes up, he hadn’t even realized he’d nodded off until he could hear Wei Ying calling his name.

“Uncle Xiao,” Wei Ying calls, sounding and looking like he was four years old again, rather than the eleven year old he’d grown into.

“A-Ying,” Xiao Xingchen answers, his heart hammering in his chest as he tucks a lock of stray hair behind Wei Ying’s ear. “A-Ying, you’re awake.” Seeing his nephew awake and mostly aware was the biggest relief Xiao Xingchen had felt in the last three days. He nearly stands up to go and wake Song Lan, but Wei Ying stops him by tugging on his robes.

“Uncle Xiao. what did my mom look like?” Xiao Xingchen’s eyebrows knit together as he kneels down again, his hand grabbing for Wei Ying’s in the darkness.

“You don’t remember?” Xiao Xingchen asks before he can stop himself. If Wei Ying couldn’t remember on his own, he wouldn’t be asking him, but Wei Ying only shakes his head against his pillow in response, pleading eyes glued to Xiao Xingchen’s face.

“You have her nose.” Xiao Xingchen says after a few moments of silence, trying to recall specific details about his sister’s face after he’d gone so long without having to think about it. The simple answer brings a tired smile to Wei Ying’s face, though, and that’s more than enough to make Xiao Xingchen continue.

He lists every feature of his sister’s that he could see on Wei Ying’s face, from the way they both laughed to how it seemed as though Wei Ying would inherit her cheekbones after all.

“You’re going to be tall like your father, though, your mother had always been short.” Xiao Xingchen says finally, holding his hand to just below his shoulder. Wei Ying was already tall for his age, Granny Wen’s grandson had only come up to his chin when they’d met them at the entrance of the village.

Wei Ying had already fallen asleep again by the time Xiao Xingchen looks up from where he’d been kneeling, and slowly, gently, he presses his hand against Wei Ying’s forehead, the tension seeping out of his shoulders immediately when he doesn’t feel the heat that had been there for days now.

His knees argue and ache as Xiao Xingchen moves to stand up, but he ignores them as he grabs his sleeping robe from where Song Lan had left it, slipping out of his regular robes and into the garment almost as soon as he’s inside the bedroom he and Song Lan had taken for themselves.

“A-Ying’s fever has broken.” Xiao Xingchen half whispers, putting a hand onto Song Lan’s shoulder to keep from startling him as he slips into bed behind him. Married or not, it wasn’t wise or kind to sneak up on a fellow cultivator.

Song Lan rolls onto his back then, one arm coming to wrap around Xiao Xingchen’s shoulders and pull him closer. “You were supposed to wake me.” Song Lan says, sleepiness covering every bit of accusation his voice tried to hold, and Xiao Xingchen knows that he’s not too far off from falling asleep himself.

“I tried, but he had questions about Cangse.” Xiao Xingchen answers honestly, yawning and laying his head on Song Lan’s shoulder as his eyes get heavier, his hand finding it’s usual spot on his chest.

“Mm.” Is the only answer that comes in the darkness.

~

“Why’re we going to Lotus Pier?” Wei Ying asks, turning and walking backwards until he nearly trips over a rock on the path, though his eyes still look back to his uncle.

“I don’t know.” Xiao Xingchen answers honestly, “Sect Leader Jiang’s letter only requested that we come.” Jiang Fengmian had been someone to Wei Changze, Xiao Xingchen was sure of that much, though he wasn’t sure of the exact nature of their relationship after Cangse had turned down his marriage proposals.

Xiao Xingchen hadn’t told Wei Ying those stories yet, he’d been waiting until he was older and ready to understand the gravity of adult relationships.

With a look shared between them, Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan walk forward and flank Wei Ying on either side. “You’re going to have to be on your best behavior while we’re there, A-Ying, no tricks and no pranks.” As much as he wants to smile at his nephew, Xiao Xingchen knows he can’t, there would be too many opportunities for Wei Ying to make trouble in Lotus Pier.

“Uncle Song already told me to behave!” Wei Ying says, trying but failing to hide the rolling of his eyes. Puberty hadn’t been the torture he’d been promised, but it had certainly been an experience so far.

“Promise us, A-Xian.” Song Lan chides, tapping the pommel of Fuxue against the top of Wei Ying’s head.

Wei Ying promises his best behavior after more prodding, but not without pouting, and Xiao Xingchen finally allows himself to smile at his nephew’s antics. It was easier to make him promise now than it would’ve been when they reached Yunmeng.

It takes them all of two days to arrive in Lotus Pier, but they’re admitted without question when they give their names to the guards at the gates, each of them bowing to them as they pass.

A quick look passes between Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan but they say nothing as the three of them are led into the main hall. Xiao Xingchen nudges Wei Ying behind them the closer they get to the Lotus Throne. Jiang Fengmian sits alone.

Jiang Fengmian’s face is kind, Xiao Xingchen notices as they bow to him, their swords outstretched before them, a careful smile of his own in response to it as they come back up. “Sect Leader Jiang, these rogue cultivators thank you for your invitation.” Xiao Xingchen speaks clearly, watching Wei Ying out of the corner of his eye. He almost completely misses Jiang Fengmian rising up from the throne, though the movement snaps his attention back immediately.

“The pleasure is mine, Daozhang.” Jiang Fengmian answers, stepping down from the raised platform and coming to stand a few feet in front of Xiao Xingchen.

“How may we assist the Jiang sect?” Xiao Xingchen was better at handling sect leaders than Cangse had been, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it anymore than she had.

To his surprise, Jiang Fengmian chuckles almost sheepishly. “I’m afraid I haven’t summoned you all here for your aid, though from the stories I hear, such help is hard to come by.” Xiao Xingchen’s eyes are careful now, narrowed as he watches Jiang Fengmian pace in the distance he’d left between them.

“Wei Changze was my dearest friend and sworn brother.” Jiang Fengmian says finally, honestly, though it doesn’t completely do away with the tension in Xiao Xingchen’s shoulders, honesty didn’t promise altruism. “For many years, I was under the assumption that their son had passed with both he and Cangse Sanren, but a few months ago, I came to understand that such rumors were false.”

As Jiang Fengmian speaks, Xiao Xingchen can hear the slightest intake of breath behind him, though Wei Ying does nothing else.

“Bringing you all here under false pretenses wasn’t my intention, my only hope was to meet my brother’s son.” To his credit, Jiang Fengmian truly does look remorseful, and though he doesn’t want it to, Xiao Xingchen can feel his resolve soften.

“A-Ying, come here.” Xiao Xingchen says softly, standing up straight. Jiang Fengmian was still taller than him, but that quickly lost all meaning as his nephew came to stand next to him, their arms brushing.

“Sect Leader Jiang, please allow me to introduce my nephew, Wei Ying, courtesy name Wuxian.” Normally, Xiao Xingchen would step back and allow Wei Ying to finish introducing himself, but he doesn’t move, even as Wei Ying bows again.

“Wei Wuxian? You are Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Fengmian speaks as if he believes he’s seen an old friend on the street, and over Wei Ying’s shoulder, Xiao Xingchen looks over at Song Lan. Song Lan only smiles at him quickly and moves half a step closer to them. It was enough.

“I have a son only a few days younger than you,” Xiao Xingchen hears Jiang Fengmian say, his eyebrows raising involuntarily. “I think the two of you will get along well.”

Wei Ying could make friends anywhere he goes, Xiao Xingchen wants to point out.

[litteidiot]

Hello! I've been reading ur fics recently, and I love them- they're amazing and touching! I was wondering if I could request a scenario for all 4 boys, in 2nd pov about the MC having a sudden panic attack? I understand if you don't wanna write it!

Hii! Thank you for reading my fics and I’m really happy that you like them. I hope with that one I can satisfy you as well!

I split this into two parts so stay tuned! Sorry if the second part will take time.

Reacting to MC having a panic attack pt. 1

——————————————

Type: Scenarios

Attention! The characters are not mine credit to the Mr. Love Team!

——————————————

Victor

It was another day like the other. But you were nervous. Recently you got two great opportunities for the next episode of Miracle Finder. You were 100% sure these episode will make the company go viral.

And just like always Victor asked for the draft and report about the episodes. And it was due today. You were busy this week preparing the set and everything essentical for the show you totally forgot to to do yor job assigned by him. So one day before due you pulled an all nighter, writing the reports to satisfy his request. By the time the clock hit 6 am you were done. Both documents were at least three pages long, and you were sure no information was left out.

But then why you were so nervous? Maybe because the companies you will soon work with are bigger then yours? As you approached the LFG building this tingling nervousness didn’t stop. It was like a parrot on your shoulder, chanting the same word until it drives you crazy.

You step into the elevator and pushing the button where Victor’s office was. Your palms were sweating. It’s not like this is your first time handing him your work. But still. Your heart rate quickened, and with that you took small breathes to consol yourself.Knocking on the CEO’s office door, you waited for his approval to enter.

“Come in.” His usual stern voice was heard and after a second of hesitation you walk in. Like usual Victor was dressed in his black business attire, behind his computer, his fingers flying on the keyboard as he typed away whatever he was workinh on.

“I brought you the reports you were asking for.” You said in a voice surprising not even you, but Victor. He stopped his work, an eyebrow arched. “Are you doing well?” He asked. You cleared your throat. “Yes, I’m okay.” Victor’s concers vanished, and his serious business manner returned. “Good, now hand me the reports.” He demanded. This time it hit you. All day you were nervous about the reports you will going to hand to Victor. Are they good enough to his expectations? You almost forgot to do the report the other day. As you looked at the papers, you got even more nervous. Your handwriting was messy, a lot of correcting scattered across the pages, you realized whatever you wanted to write only ended up as a small side note.

No way in the world you will hand this to him. You stood there still, panicking out of your mind. Your heart at this point went crazy in your chest, your hands are dranched in sweat, your chest hurt as the lack of oxygen entered your lungs.

“I’m not asking again.” Victor’s voice pierced through your thoughts, not helping the situation. “MC, hand me the report.” He raised his voice, clearly annoyed because your lack of action. But your mind froze. Are the reports good enough? What if he thinks it’s one of those many sloppy reports you gave him and this time he had enough and not only he whitdraws the funding but also calls off the next show.

At this point you were wheezing. Suddenly you gripped your chest, and dropped to the floor. You felt lightheaded as you slipped in and out of consciousness, small beds of sweat appearing on your forehead.

“MC!” In a flash Victor appeared next to you literally having no idea what happened to you. Not going to lie even he went pale for a quick second. “MC! Look at me? Can you hear me, look at me!” He shook you lightly forcing you to look in his eyes. Not enough, your panick switched into a breakdown, tears streamed down your face like two little rivers. You got a strong and firm grip on his arms, as you both hyperventillated and cried at the same time.

Victor was scared out of his mind. He looked at you breaking into pieces in front of him, literally having no idea what is happening with you. He wrapped you into his arms as he strokes circles on your back murmuring things to calm you down. After your little episode you pulled away from him looking all ashamed because of the mess you caused him.

“I-I’m sorry.” You mustered out between two breaths. “I was so busy this week I nearly forgot the reports and I wasn’t confident my work will make it to your expectations. I got stressed, I’m sorry.” You rabled your reasons at him.

After this day, he made sure you were doing okay with the work he gave you and paid close attention if you are overworking yourself.

Kiro

You just launched a new episode of Miracle Finder but you weren’t on set to supervise the shooting. You were busy making contracts for future project you didn’t even bother to look over the script, you just signed the approval to air ot and that’s it. And boy you wish you did.

On the airing night you watched the episode and you almost ripped out your hair seeing how sloppy and unprofessional the episode was. And the feedbacks on social media and your company’s official website didn’t help either. It was all negative comments, judging the episode, you the company. This occupied your mind the whole week.

“What’s in my Miss Chips mind other than me?” Kiro’s playful voice interrupted you as he waved his hand in front of your face. You were at his house, Kiro asked you over to hang out a little while.

“Am I a good boss, Kiro?” This question, what circled in your mind finally set free. This question took a full 180, Kiro switched into a serious manner. “What do you mean? Of course you are! You are amazing as always!” He encouraged you, his radiating sunlight shone over you. But this couldn’t brighten up you mood. Not this time.

“I don’t feel like I’m good enough.” You said. “This week’s episode was a disaster! I wasn’t there to supervise and after that I wasn’t paying attention to it I just approved the airing. Now all the comments and feedbacks are attacking the company and me because of how bad this one turned out.” You rambled you hands getting shaky.

“Kiro and it’s all my fault. I was too busy to look through the files, now everything backfired on me. I can’t pay attention to multiple things at the same time. What kind of producer am I?” Your worry grew, so does your panic.

“I will bring down this company. Dad worked for decades on this TV show and my carelessness will ruin his hardwork.” You said, your body was now trembling. The air felt stuffy, The place suddenly was too small for you two.

“MC look at me.” Kiro lifted your head too look at him. “Answer these questions for me.”

“Kiro, it’s not the time to play 20 questi-” He cut you off.

“Just aswer these questions to me. What’s the day today.”

“Um, it’s Friday.”

“What’s the date today?”

“It’s the 24th.”

“Good. How many days we have in a week.”

“Seven days.”

“And in a month?”

“Thirty or thrity one days.”

“And what about a year? How many days are in a year?”

“Threehundred and sixty-five.”

“Good job. Are you okay now?” He looked at you with his tender blue eyes. You soon realized your breathing stabilized. You were no longer nervous. Seeing your confused face, Kiro flashed you a smile. “You were having a panic attack. So before it could get worse I distracted your mind from it.”

He pulled you in his arms, giving you his bearhug you love so much. Inhealing his scent, your mind fully relaxed. “Are you okay now?” He asked in a low voice, and you nodded, closing your eyes in comfort.

“You are an amazing producer MC. You are one of the most hardworking person I ever met, you are doing an amazing job, do not let those comments get to you.”

For more research study go to Science section

Stay tuned for pt. 2!!

[sugarfreecapsicle]

binding

royal!au bucky barnes x reader

word count: 1800+

A/N: I’m rusty, but I hope this is something you can enjoy! I had originally planned for this to be much longer (including smut) but I got bored of the detail I’d put in and didn’t want a reader to tire of it. Feedback is always appreciated - please forgive small errors as I use google docs and it doesn’t quite catch everything. Big thanks to @moonstruckbucky & @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan for beta-ing the very rough draft!

Within the hour, you’d become a wife, and the week, a queen.

None of your previous years of schooling and training prepared you for this. The dressmaker interrupts her last minute stitching and hemming with a hand on your leg to steady your balance. As a young girl, imagining this occasion comprised of so much more than political arrangements. Love, adoration, joy. Instead, you are shuffled from one room, one person to another, and the world blurs.

No one outside the castle, not even the court, had seen your betrothed since the war - many spread rumors that he’d already died and the king couldn’t bear the thought of losing his country, that the young soldier and prince had run away to a neighboring land out of fear while defending his own people. 

A duty to your family keeps you planted, flexible only to instruction from your new assistants. Your sister, young and frail, would be on the market as a working girl. Your mother would be devastated - her hard work in the quiet night voided should anyone of power discover her educating the poorer children. Father...well, he’s the mastermind of your marriage. Debts forgiven, as it were. But at what benefit to the throne?

Wavering at the thought, the dressmaker supports your legs with some poorly hidden irritation. You were the only woman of title who could bear children for miles, and with tensions remaining in the aftermath of war the king found no solace in the potential of his neighbors.

There’s no time to waste once your dress is done. You’re escorted to the door of the hall where music bellowed off the walls and murmurings of court carried over the banisters. Your father says nothing but threads your arm with his, a hand over your clammy one. 

A maid enters from a small door across the foyer, and by order of the dressmaker fusses over every detail one last time. The words leave you before you think better of it. “Is he kind?”

She blushes. “Immensely, Your Highness.”

The music begins to swell, large oak doors creak open, and the room stands. Your heart pounds with every step nearer, the knot in your throat bobbing and scratching. Could you sound smooth, deliberate in promising your vows? Could he be full of dread?

The prince, your betrothed, stands poised - the perfect soldier. Broad shoulders, dark velvet blue accentuates the chocolate brown hair pulled together neatly at his neck. A prominent dark metal hand inlaid with gold clutches one of flesh behind his back. The exchange of your hand between your father and prince moves slow, deliberate. The new sensation of cool metal pricks against your clammy hand, and a silent prayer asks that the hardness in his slate blue eyes is a result of ceremony rather than the prospect of marrying you specifically.

The priests words run together in baritone, the vows hardly more than white noise behind the pounding of blood in your ears. Something  in your chest stretches tightly. Vision darkens at the edges. Breaths shallow.

And then, the prince’s voice reverberates through your touch.

“I swear upon my life and my kingdom.”

You’re next to swear your vows before the gods and the court, and sweat begins to bead on your hairline at the priest’s silence.

“I swear upon my life and my kingdom.”

Rings are exchanged, (could his hands be trembling the same as yours?) your arms link, and you turn as one, the room bowing deeply followed by cheering applause. You’re both escorted onto a carriage and paraded, waving, tossing candied fruits to those around the streets.

Once paraded, you return to the castle and the pair of you are directed to a set of bedchambers, men standing guard outside. Part of you wants to believe in a higher power when there are no guards or attendees inside to...observe.

He’s staring, eyes roaming over your finery in some kind of assessment. Jaw still clenched, eyes cold. 

“If you disapprove-“

“I don’t.” Short. Effective. “You’ll make a fine queen for my people.”

Not at all a romantic.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

He bows and doesn’t give a reason for his dismissal from the room. A sob crowds the knot still trapped in your throat. The rest of your days would be spent trying to tolerate a frigid man with no love for you while trying to do what’s best for the people. 

Weeks pass with no affection. James, your new husband, is busy with matters elsewhere that keep him occupied. Not that you have too much time of your own to notice - your new role commands attention to multiple details across the grounds, interior, even some event coordinating. Most nights it’s all you can to do fall into bed and snore before your head hits the pillow. Your husband rarely finds bed before you and is always out of bed before you wake.

Some of the maids and help around the grounds provide a little solace, most with stories of his quiet action to their aid. James - reserved, a man of action, subtle, caring, kind. Give him time, they’d said. He has his reasons.

Once ready for the day, you smooth your skirts and expect to plan the first of many holiday celebrations but your train of thought is stopped. James stands nervously at your door and smiles. 

“Good morning.”

The smile broadens. “Good morning. Would you...walk with me? If you have the time.” James offers his arm and without breaking eye contact, you accept.

A sharp breeze dances in the sunset leaves, and the day new enough to glimmer of morning dew on the shrubbery. Orchids in bloom fill the air with pleasant sweetness. The two of you have hardly spoken as you walk together, guards’ eyes following.

“The gardens are beautiful.” It’s a start, you suppose. He’s trying.

“Thank you.” You grin over at one of the fountains collecting fall leaves in a pool of water. “Shall we sit? I need the sun more than I thought.”

A true gentleman, he waits for you to arrange your skirts and move to sit before taking his place next to you by the fountain. Somewhere in the trees birds chirp and sing, chattering along.

“My mother always loved the birds,” James murmurs with eyes darting in the treeline. “She insists on the feeders hidden throughout.”

“I’m sure you gave your mother some reason to hide them,” you smirk, tucking an errant waft of hair behind his ear. His cheeks flush, even his ears turn a shade of red. 

“Plenty of reason. And often.”

You breathe out a laugh and notice a page rushing over with a sealed letter in hand. So much for an easy morning.

Although you can’t get the thought of his smile, the way he grins more on the left side of his mouth than the right, out of your head all day. Plenty of your advisers noticed your distraction but said nothing. Finally, just before dinner, you settled back into your own right mind: You won’t bed him without love. You’d rather claim a mistress’ child as your own than compromise yourself. According to other ladies of the court, it happens all the time.

A visit to a nearby village is announced at dinner, and James’ parents decide the opportunity for the two of you to make an appearance as the future rulers of the country. Notorious for his solitude, you fully anticipated an excuse of important meetings from James - but once again, he surprises you with an agreement.

The scheduled visits happen semiannually, and traveling to the further reaches necessitates a week or more. By the third day, you’re not sure how you’ll remember all the names of lords, ladies and other important members of the court. Sunset warms you through the window of the carriage, rolling green hills and farmland passes by. Your accompaniment including your husband keeps quiet - the adviser sleeping, your husband keeping a watchful eye on the countryside. 

His head lifts from his hand, the dark metallic one reaching at his hip for his blade. Blue eyes meet yours in an instant.

“Stay here. Don’t leave this carriage no matter what you hear. Do you understand?” 

You nod once and remember the knife you’d stashed in a garter beneath your skirts. The noise of battle cries and swords clashing interrupts the rhythmic clip of horse hooves and wooden wheels. An ambush - assassins, spies from Hydra coming for you, or the future king, or both. 

A blink, and he’s out of the carriage with a slam of the small door. The chaos of yelling and metal on metal has you scrambling for the knife, shaking hands grasping the opalescent handle. 

James grunts, shrill iron against his arm sparking with anger, and shoves the assailant backward. Thuds of fists landing punches, knives ripping fabric all overwhelm your senses. Coppery blood even scents the air around you.

As quickly as the fight began, all became silent once again aside from crunching pieces of road and rock beneath heavy boots. A set ends just outside the carriage door - your adviser cowering in the floor.

“Princess?” James pants and knocks three times. “If I open the door, you swear not to impale me?”

“Only if you speak for yourself and not in surrender.”

Hesitantly, the small door opens, and James peers and you with a tired smile. “To you only, I would surrender.”

Once the men are settled and wounds triaged, you’re able to inspect the prince. James is scratched and bruised, a bit bloody and finery torn. Without thinking, your hands are wiping at his busted lip with a handkerchief and worry twists your expression. Most of his lip is clean when you notice a tenderness you hadn’t seen before - something in the way his eyes settle on you, in the set of his mouth, the way his flesh hand lets his fingers brush your free hand.

“I know I can’t stop you from it, but I wish you would consider the kingdom before rushing at murderers.”

“You are my kingdom,” he says a bit breathless. “If my wife commands it, I will make it so.”

His hand doesn’t leave yours the remainder of the ride home. 

That night, you’re twisting a thread on your nightgown wondering if perhaps there was more to your prince than your first impression. Meetings and duties keep him away from you for most of the day, and over dinner you catch up on what you’re not involved in directly. He keeps certain things from you - direct threats, certain uglier parts of his duty as heir to the throne. 

It’s in the quiet of night, few candles crackling, when you ask the tired man next to you, “Do you love me?”

He turns from his back onto his side and holds your cheek, “I would lay down my life for you and everyone in this country without hesitation. Do not think for one moment that I don’t love you as a king. And as your husband.”

You haven’t kissed since the wedding but his lips on yours work gently to ask permission and light kindling in your chest. He pulls away too soon for your liking, unadulterated want dancing behind the glittering yellow flame over blue. 

“My kingdom, my home, my land benefits from your thoughtful consideration. You refuse to demand more than what our staff can provide, and you have a kindness I’ve never seen from title. I cannot find nor will I look for any reason not to love you.”

[chrisevansbabymama]

Daddy Hair Care - Chapter 4.2

Here is the second instalment, at long last! Still using the same gif as the previous, as it’s still the same night. The more time I sat on this chapter, the more time I’ve had to tweak it and change it from the original draft, so it’s still slightly longer than usual - all 4,288 words, but I hope you all enjoy. Thank you for being so patient. 

_______

Chapter 4.1

Chapter 4.2 - He’s Just Not That Into You:

“I gotta say,” Chris said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, suddenly very coy.

It’d been a mere five minutes since they’d left the restaurant and were walking in the direction towards her house. They’d delved in and out of a couple of topics, including Mya and Dodger who Chris confessed to be missing, but was trying his best to not be on ‘daddy mode.’ Kayla found that so cute, and could see he had been honest when he’d said he wanted to get out more and put himself out there, it seemed his internal battle was learning to let go of his dependants. Whatever putting himself ‘out there’ meant for him, she supposed she could only be happy for him.

“Mmmh?” Kayla asked when the pause was a second too long.

“I’ve just...I’ve had a pretty good night tonight,”

Kayla pressed her lips together to hide a smile, her heart fluttering at the way he casually dropped the compliment. Here she was thinking that he would have given up anything to be anywhere else. His warm eyes met hers, but with the look he wore she could discern that there was more to it. She wasn’t going to interrogate him and make it awkward, if he wanted to, she was sure he would say it.

And she hadn’t been wrong about there being more to it; it was more of a feeling than Chris could put into words. It was a weird, funny feeling he felt; elation somewhat laced with anxiety. The good kind.

“It was nice to finally get out of my suite and do something that’s not work related, or taking the kids out,” he said, referring to his two kids – Mya and Dodger.

Then his stomach twisted as guilt washed over him for confessing that he enjoyed his time without them.

“It’s okay,” Kayla looked at him reassuringly. She could sense his aura change in the same way that her siblings’ would when they talked about finding space and a life outside of their kids. “To do things without them, you’re not neglecting them. Call it self-care,”

“Yes ma’am,” he nudged her gently with his elbow, relaxing at her encouragement.

Kayla was smiling too now but she looked ahead in the direction they were heading, “Y’say you had a good night as if you are surprised that I’m good company,”

“Not that, I wasn’t surprised,” he quickly corrected, appreciating the humour to lighten up the threatening sombre mood. “I just mean that I didn’t realise how busy the whole team was, that I never really got a chance to know you properly since you joined us,”

“Relax Hollywood, you’re sweating,”

As usual, comedy was her go-to defensive mechanism so that he couldn’t see the effect his words had on her, because she was more than flattered that he actually enjoyed being alone with her. At least that’s what she was going to take from his statement.

“You are right, I mean this whole thing took off so quickly for me, I haven’t even processed it,”

Kayla recalled to the day she got a call from his assistant Tiffany, asking if she was able to assist on a photo shoot the following day. His previous make-up artist had gone on maternity leave and he had been booked on a last minute cover shoot, so they needed someone to groom just for that one day. But a photo shoot turned into a contract for several projects, then she was hired on for the Lobby Hero and possibly Infinity War press; but the later was still TBC due to his conflicting schedule. She prayed that he was going to do a few rounds of press for it, otherwise her work with him was coming to an end in less than a couple of weeks.

Once he starts Lobby Hero, that was going to be it, and then he would start filming the last Avengers instalment not too long after. He had spoken about going to Boston in the small gap before filming. He was very much a family-oriented man, Kayla accepted the fact that once he was in Boston, he would shut the rest of the world out. Especially his Hollywood life; which she was a part of.

So yes, whilst he didn’t overtly say he only enjoyed spending time with her alone; Kayla convinced herself that he was implying just that, because it was probably the first and last time she would ever be alone with him like this.

Chris nodded, “It’s crazy, it’s such a fast-paced industry you never get a chance to slow down. I’m glad we got that tonight. You were pleasant enough,”

His devil may care tone at the last statement earned him a sharp glare and a heavy sigh, enough to make Chris retract.

“London, I’m joking,” he said quickly putting an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side.

He was incredibly tactile, this she had learnt very early on since the first time she worked with him; the hugs, the gentle touch on her upper arm when he was trying to squeeze past her, the tap against her leg when he was laughing hysterically. Her favourite touch was when he would gently squeeze or rub her shoulders on a long day of interviews. He would comfort her with a “almost there London,” as if she was the celebrity ready to retire from the repetitive questions.

So this was nothing.

It didn’t feel like nothing though. It felt nice. It felt like she belonged there, flush against him.  

When she didn’t respond he wrapped her in his arms in the biggest teddy bear hug he could muster, gently swaying her.

“Talk to me,” he sing-songed.

“Please say something,” he was starting to worry that he’d upset her. “I’m not used to you not having anything to say back,”

Kayla’s voice came out muffled as she breathed against his chest, “You’re so annoying!”

“There she is,” he finally laughed in relief, drawing back from the hug but still held onto her, this time he slid his hands down her arms until her held her hands, studying her but he failed to suss her out.

Please kiss me, she thought, glancing at his lips.

Chris considered it. She was only a few inches away, he could do it seamlessly if he wanted. But he didn’t know if she would like that. She looked away quickly before he could even suggest to her that he was going to kiss her.

But Kayla had only looked away because she noticed the make-up stain she’d left on his shirt when he’d squeezed her against his chest. Too embarrassed to confront it, despite her boldness towards him, she figured that some things were better left unsaid. If she brought attention to it, she knew he would be put off. He’d always been vocal about being a simple guy, liking his women natural - your girl next door type*. Hence why she’d gone for the ‘no make-up, make-up’ look tonight, to look as natural as she could for him.

Patriarchy 2 – 0 Kayla.

“Your hands are cold,” he said quietly deflecting the tension brewing from the assumed rejection, squeezing her hands gently but firm in an attempt to warm them up.

“Yeah,” she said distractedly, shaking off the thought of the very close encounter. “You were right, it’s cold,”

“Why didn’t you tell me,” he said shrugging his coat off and swung it around her, he held onto the lapel.

“I didn’t want you to say ‘I told you so,’” she pouted childishly. “You don’t have to do that Chris, you’re gonna get sick - that blazer is not gonna keep you warm. And we can’t have you sick and cancelling all your work commitments,”

“Maybe that’s the plan, I deserve some time off. A little flu never hurt anybody,” he shrugged with a wink.

“No seriously, Keith will kill me,”

He titled his head and studied her, before saying, “Why thank you Chris for this coat, you’re such a gentleman,”

She rolled her eyes, “I don’t sound like that,” and then laughed at his attempt at her voice, before finally accepting the coat and sliding her arms into the sleeves, letting out an earnest, “Thank you.”

“And now you can’t say I’m not a nice guy,”

“Wait, what?” Kayla laughed with uncertainty. “I have never said you’re not a nice guy,”

Chris smirked, giving her a side-glance that she couldn’t read, but one thing for sure was it was so sexy.

“I don’t know, sometimes I get a feeling that you hate me,”

“I don’t hate you, I just enjoy knocking you down a pedestal or two. Keeps you grounded,”

He smiled.

“Works like a charm,”

“Besides, if I hated it being on your team, I’d have left within a second, believe me,”

“Well, wouldn’t want that,” he commented, eyeing the coat on her before doing up the buttons that he had disregarded when he had been wearing it. “Want me to get you an Uber home?”

“No, unless I’m boring you?”

“Ha, never that,” he stuffed his hands back in his pockets and eyed the pavement as they paced in unison. “I was thinking that since you’re not going to die of hypothermia now that you have my coat, maybe we should do something spontaneous,”

Kayla eyed him suspiciously, frowning and raising a questioning eyebrow.

Chris looked at her nonchalantly, his eyes glazed with a mischievous shimmer.

“I’m worried,”

He laughed softly, “Nah it’ll be fun, nothing to worry about,”

“You’re making me nervous, how spontaneous? On a scale of 1-10?”

“Uhm...8...”

“Go on,” her tone was still doubtful.

“Let’s go catch a film,”

“I don’t understand,” she was dumbfounded.

“I really don’t wanna end the night,” coyness really suited him. He scratched the back of his neck nervously, his face turning a shade of pink again. “Remember when we were teenagers – well, I don’t know about you, but I used to sneak out at night and I’d always make sure I’d stay out as late as possible and make the most of it. I knew if my mom caught me out, I’d never be allowed again for a while…tonight’s kinda like that. But instead of my mom, work’s going to occupy my time and I might not get a chance to do this again until I finish Lobby Hero. So if you still care to spend the rest of the evening with me; what do you say we go watch a film?”

Kayla felt sad. His face was a shimmering look of hope, like a child asking to go to Disneyland; which was the source of her sadness. Why did going to the theatre excite him so much? Something so normal and regular to her, and took for granted, for Chris normalcy was a luxury, it seemed.

“Uhmm...I thought you said spontaneous,” there she was again with the humour, she cringed immediately, realising this wasn’t the time.

“Uhmm yeah it is, for me anyway....” he shrugged casually and looked ahead.

“Chris?” she wanted to ask him if he was okay. Maybe the magazine event he’d been too had been a negative reinforcement of the cons of his job, as he had mentioned earlier that he barely knew anyone there and had to endure it, in the name of good press.

“Mhhh?”

“Yes,” she said, she deflected. “I mean, yes, let’s go watch a film. I’m a little overdressed though,”

He smiled so brightly that her concern for his wellbeing vanished, “You sure?” she nodded. “Honey, we’ve both been overdressed since that restaurant,”

“Maybe I should go home and change my shoes and get my coat so you can have yours back,”

“Everything you just said defeats the whole ‘spontaneous’ part, I usually have to go to the theatre dressed in a hoodie and baseball cap. I go miles to be incognito, tonight, I’m living on the wild side,” he retrieved his phone from his trousers pocket. “I’m getting an Uber as we speak,”

Kayla considered this: never imagining the first time alone with Chris in a dark room would be in a movie theatre. She had to admit, it would be fun to sit in such a close proximity in the dark. They’d both missed their opportunity to kiss the other just several minutes ago; maybe fate was giving them another chance.

“ See anything you like, London?” Chris shifted from his window seat to the middle, minutes later as they sat in the back of the Uber exec. He held the phone so they could both see the movie listings.

If she was going to be honest, none of the films stood out for her but this wasn’t about her. So she looked on as he scrolled slowly, thinking more about her strategy on dealing with being in the dark lit room with him. What better way to get up close and personal than a film? It was the perfect set up for that missed kiss; she pictured it so vividly: his arm would surreptitiously snake around her shoulder as he pretended to yawn and disregard the film before making a move on her. She had seen this scene many times in films that she was even surprised Chris was going to be this predictable.

Annihilation, Irreplaceable You, Peter Rabbit, she read the listings…Fifty Shades Freed.

“Game Night?” he offered after several debates.

Kayla looked at the poster on his screen and glanced up at Chris, “So much for spontaneity, Chris no offence but if you were to die tonight and I was to read your eulogy about the very last film you saw, you want it to be this?”

“Whoa,” he was genuinely startled. “There’s a lot to unpack there. First of all...actually you are right. I told you I don’t get out much. And second, that’s so deep, why does someone have to die tonight?”

“You thought I was going to get hypothermia,”

“Are you suggesting we watch something a little steamy?” he cocked his eyebrows playfully and gave her a look that she recognised instantly. He was back in form. “Fifty Shades Freed? Is that what you want?”

Kayla shook her head with no witty comeback to rally with him.

“I haven’t seen the other ones,”

“I should hope so, not suitable for kids,”

“Game Night it is, only because you’re annoying me and I’m not gonna give you what you want,”

Chris ignored the double entrendre. Begrudgingly.

Kayla’s imagination has always been very active since her youth. She’d learned to be imaginative as a means to escape from a young age, hence why she has always gravitated towards creative subjects and eventually a career in the arts. When she’d imagined the exciting prospect of being alone in the dark with Chris, what was going to ensure seemed clearly written in the stars. Though a small part of her thought the idea was too far fetched, it became more promising when she realised that they were the only ones in the late showing of Game Night in the theatre.

The ticket purchasing was strategically planned to avoid Chris being spotted by any chance. Judging by how seamless every stage was, she became more optimistic that halfway through the movie he was going to make a move on her, like they did in the movies. She wondered if the sign would come when he either placed his bag of popcorn on the floor or on the seat next to him, yawn and sneakily wrap an arm around her shoulders. Then she imagined he would naturally whisper something in her ear, making her giggle before lifting her chin with his index finger and finally kissing her.

And so it happened:

Half way through the film, he placed his almost empty bag of popcorn on the floor and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Her heart was thudding, leg jiggling nervously, so she crossed them and tried to act normal, as if she didn’t even know what was happening. It was surreal, the adrenalin charged through her that she didn’t even know what to do anymore and feared she wouldn’t give him the kiss of her life.

So Lauren was right. He does like me, she thought, making a mental note to thank her and apologise profusely for dismissing her claims.

“Oh man,” he stifled a yawned and muttered under his breath, becoming increasingly restless.

Everything was going according to plan. And imagination.

A few seconds passed and she didn’t feel an arm on her shoulder, nor did he inch near her. Instead, he inched away, resting his elbow on the other armrest and his chin on his clenched fist. The arm around her shoulder never came. She kept her eyes glued on the screen, watching on in a haze, barely concentrating. She felt sick.

She’d done the calculations, and this wasn’t the outcome she expected.

But then again, Maths was never her strongest subject.

She soon realised he hadn’t been trying to flirt or intend to make a move on her. His eyes were shut and chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She watched him for a few seconds, thinking it was a sick twisted joke, maybe he would crack and burst out into a laugh, and yell “gotcha,” but he was actually in a deep sleep. He didn’t flinch or budge at the reverberating sounds throughout the rest of the film.

That’s when she knew that dream was over. There only so many disappointments one could take and keep sticking around with hope.

“Chris...Chris...” he heard her faint voice in the distance, ignoring it because he thought it was another one of his dreams where she made a regular appearance. He felt a hand on his shoulder, her voice speaking again. “C’mon, we have to go,”

“Hmmm?” He sat up, opening his eyes as they prickled from the glare from the screen ahead. He looked around and saw her. A delightful sight, even if it was slightly dim. “Kayla?”

“Good morning,” she laughed.

What a sound to wake up to, he thought.

“Morning?” he instantly panicked, his mind automatically thinking of Mya and Dodger.

“I’m joking, the movie’s finished. I didn’t wanna wake you up earlier, you looked really comfortable.”

“How much did I miss?”

“Like the last hour,”

“Fuck,” he sighed, pushing his hair back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I’d sleep,”

“It’s okay,”

“I can’t believe I made you come out to enjoy a movie by yourself,” he grimaced as he voiced his concern, cringing at the thought. “I’m really sorry, I owe you. So much for spontaneity huh? You should have left my ass.”

“Chris, relax. It’s fine; it’s been a long day for you. I sleep through a film all the time,” she waved a hand dismissively.

Still, he felt bad. He had wanted to spend the entire night in her company, (not even in a sexual kind of way) and he had jeopardised that.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said to quickly, avoiding eye contact. “Still half asleep,”

“Okay Sleeping Beauty, shall we go?”

“Let’s,”

The wait outside had been icy and awkward. On Kayla’s part, it was the affirmation that he wasn’t that into her, that kept playing on her. She didn’t know how to act around him anymore; scared to give too much of herself away, even though she was already in too deep with her feelings. She now had to negotiate a healthy balance between being herself, as always but not allowing him to sway her. Or flirt with him.

On Chris’ part, he felt like he had let her down; it wasn’t about the kiss – he didn’t suspect it, it was the fact that he had kept her out all night only to fall asleep. He wouldn’t even blame her if she was offended. He worried she would never subject herself to something like this again; imagining that she thought the worst of him. Had it been a date, would he have fallen asleep? Even worse, he felt embarrassed, and he couldn’t even figure out why. Maybe at the realisation that maybe his life was as boring as everyone was implying; so he asked himself, who would want to date that?

Chris insisted on ordering them an Uber each, but Kayla politely insisted she could get her own.  Being the chivalrous charmer he was, Chris didn’t back down easily, but Kayla took the initiative and just booked them both a ride. The drama was unnecessary, this was New York; right in the heart of Manhattan where taxis were aplenty.

But they’d both been cunning; using the Uber excuse to buy more time with each other. As if they had both accepted it was their last goodbye, a closure on the feelings they had harboured for each other. And maybe if they stuck it out a little longer, one of them would bite the bullet and make a move?

“I should give you this,” she said sliding off his coat. “Thank you for letting me wear it tonight,”

“Don’t do that,” he waved a hand. “Take it, it’s cold,”

“There’ll be a heater in the car, I’ll be fine Chris,”

He drew close to her again, politely putting it back on and redoing the buttons she had undone to give it back to him, “Keep it on,”

She sighed, giving in quickly, “Okay, I’ll bring it back on Monday,”

“Okay,” he could careless.

“Here goes your ride,” he squeezed her shoulders as the car pulled up in the waiting bay.

“Thank you for tonight, I had a lot of fun. And thank you for the dinner, I owe you,”

“Yes, you do. You owe me that Pad Thai,” he winked playfully before hugging her briefly. “See you on Monday, London,”

He opened the door for her, guiding her in with his hand on the small of her back.

“Bye Chris,”

It wasn’t long before the car was circling Columbus Circle, routing back to home. Above all, albeit the anti-climactic theatre ordeal, she’d had a good night with Chris. Far beyond her expectations, so what was it going to hurt if they were only going to be friends?

It was all replaying like a movie reel; the laughter, the touches, the anecdotes and his scent. The way he set his eyes on. The way he listened when she spoke. His scent on her, she breathed it in – his coat a vivid reminder of him. A vivid reminder of the way he would wrap his muscled arms around her and never wanted him to let go.

She suddenly remembered the huge make-up stain she’d left on his shirt and cringed.

The moment was over.

She felt her phone vibrate in her bag; she had ignored it the entire night, never one to be glued to it when she was out. That was a lie, she used to be glued to it; always one to take pictures for Instagram until she got bored of over sharing and instead shared her work on it, occasionally peppering her feed with food snaps, selfies, with her family or a cheesy snap on holiday.

She wondered if Chris would follow her on Instagram…or if she had the balls to follow him first.

She took her phone out, her friend’s Instagram post notification the source of the vibration. She scrolled down on the notification centre, opting to read Lauren’s copious messages that she’d missed earlier on when Chris had joined her at the sushi place.

9:49pm

Lauren: Sorry babe, won’t be making it tonight. I’ve been regurgitating my guts all evening. Have fun.

Lies, Kayla thought, trusting Chris that she was probably entangled under the sheets somewhere with Seb.

9:50pm

Lauren: Oh yeah, I purposely forgot to ask Keith and Tiff to come along. Ooops.

9:54pm

Lauren: Because I lied, I’m not sick. I decided not to come, and thought I’d leave Tiff and Keith out of it too. I thought you kids needed the evening to yourselves and I didn’t want to play 3rd wheel tonight. I do it all the time, not doing it tonight. You kids have fun.

9:55

Lauren: So I hope your inadvertent date with Chris goes well.

10:35

Lauren: ....you’re welcome.

11:01

Lauren: No reply? I’m guessing you’re “playing hide the zucchini”? Thank me later.

11:01

Lauren: ps. safety first kids. Love ya xxx

She shook her head in disbelief; too tired to figure out whether she should be angry or laugh. It was less funny now that she knew for sure that Chris only had platonic feelings towards her. She now needed to speak to Lauren sometime in person, figure out a way to politely tell her to stop bringing Chris up. She needed the closure.

As if on cue, his name popped up on the banner of her screen; a strange sight and brand new occurrence. They had never directly communicated with each other via phone, even though they had each other’s numbers. It was always Lauren that organised non-work related occasions, and if it was to do with work, she dealt with Keith and Tiffany. Never him.

His very first text message to her said:

Chris: Let me know when you get in. Thank you again for tonight; I owe you big time, especially for falling asleep.

Kayla: Likewise. Honestly, don’t worry about it lol

She wanted to shut him down, be dismissive but subtle and polite. She wasn’t going to do this again.

Closure, closure, closure, she chanted in her head.

Chris: I insist. I’m a man of my word.

And just like that, her resolution to get over him disappeared. How could she?

_

Chapter 5

_______________

Disclaimer: Gif not my own

Tags: @thegirlwithpaperheart  @disaster-rose @youlifetime @mississippifangirl​ @thinemineours @tessathedragon @thottio​ @caninoona @eratotalles @allonszassbutt @thinemineours@dreamingwithmendes @void-imaginations​ @daybreak96​ @l-auteuse​ @cliffordasparagus @bumber-car-s @lvlyab@melaninmarvel @milkymil-k @dyckvandyke @prettymuchboodup  @i-fear-neither-death-nor-pain @the-doctors-fallen-angel @mariswritingforfun

[the-hidden-writer]

The Fire

Some context!

This is a scene that is part of my upcoming novel, Apples & Knives. I haven’t gotten up to actually writing this part so it’s a very rough rushed first draft! The 3 characters (Richard, Tom and Skylar) are all paid external specialists for a gang known as Fortis. Their codenames are Raven, Gentleman and Whisper respectively They met each other for the first time after being tricked by a member of Fortis and locked in a warehouse, where they found a woman bound to a chair which that Fortis member used as a hostage to lure them in.

@whumptober2020

Prompt: Fire Fandom: Apples & Knives (an original story) Character(s): Richard Collins (aka Raven), Tom Elliott (aka Gentleman), Skylar Fox (aka Whisper) Words: 825 tw: fire, burning, death, hostage

Please read the context above to be able to understand what’s going on!

“So, now what?” Asked Tom, his hands on his hips. “I don’t appreciate being lured into abandoned warehouses this late at night- um, morning… whatever time it is!”

Richard scoffed. “Oh really? I thought the Gentleman would usually be doing other things around this time!”

Despite the many rumours surrounding him, Gentleman had the decency to blush.

“That’s- that’s not…” He let out a small sigh followed by a chuckle. “I can’t tell if you’re insulting me or flirting with me.”

“Oh, well let me shed some light on-”

“Uh, guys?”

Both men looked towards Whisper, who had finished untying the poor woman in the chair and was facing the far corner of the warehouse. A corner that was currently being illuminated by steadily rising flames.

Richard’s heart stopped. He found himself frozen as he stared, transfixed as the flames engulfed the remains of the paper stores and began to travel around the perimeter of the warehouse, trapping them.

Tom gasped. “This is a trap! He- He tricked me, the bas-”

“Really?” Richard snarled unsympathetically. “You work for bloody Fortis and you can’t tell you’re being trapped until you’re pretty much dead! Congratulations!”

He could have been kinder, but he was panicking. He’d done the one thing he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do: fall victim to one of Cotton’s games.

But he’d brought an innocent woman into the mix and that, in the eyes of both Richard and Raven, was cheating.

“R-Right, okay.” Whisper- Skylar- reassured herself quietly. “Boys, I need you to try and get her-” she gestured at the poor unconscious woman on the chair- “awake. I’ll try and find us a way out of here.”

Despite having only just met her, she had one of those commanding voices that made one instinctively obey. So as the circle of fire began to close in on them, Richard and Tom sprinted towards the hostage.

“Ma’am?” Tom whispered into her ear, shaking her gently. “Ma’am!”

Richard looked around nervously. “Ma’am, can you hear us?”

Tom shook a bit more violently as the heat around them started to become unbearable. “Ma’am!”

Richard slapped her cheek softly. “Ma’am!”

“Ma’am!”

“Ma’am, we’re on fire, you need to wake up now!”

“BRITBOYS!” Skylar called from near one of the walls. “COME HE-” She then broke into a violent coughing fit from her proximity to the smoke, and decided to instead use her arms to wildly beckon them.

Having no luck with the woman, both men weaved their way around the flames to reach her.

Her face was bright red and there were multiple beads of sweat rolling down her face. Maybe some were tears. They couldn’t tell, smoke was obscuring their vision.

“Up there!” Her voice was gruff and she motioned to a grate above her. “A v-vent,” she coughed, “if I can get up there I can pull you guys and her up.”

“Alright!” Richard nodded, having to shout to get his voice heard of the crackling of the fire. He bent down, being the tallest by far among them.

It took Gentleman a few extra seconds to register what was happening, before he nodded too. “I’ll go get her!”

He turned and fled backwards to where the elderly woman’s form was still slumped over the chair. 

In the meantime, (a tall but skinny) Richard tried to hold (a short but muscular) Skylar on his shoulders. It took him a good few seconds to keep his balance, and it took her a few tries at jumping, but she managed to tear off the grate and crawl into the vent.

No sooner had she done so was there a deafening boom behind her. A huge wave of scorching air followed it. Unable to turn her head backwards, she screamed.

“RAVEN! RAVEN, WHAT HAPPENED?!”

Raven’s muffled voice came shouting back at her. “N-NEAR THE BACK! T-TOM!”

“RAVEN CLIMB UP! IT’S TOO LATE, COME ON!”

For a few seconds, there was nothing but the sizzling of the flames filling her ears. 

She thought that something must have happened to Raven, but his voice eventually called: “I’M GOING TO LOOK FOR HIM! YOU GO!”

Not willing to stay in her position for any longer, Skylar rapidly began to shuffle forwards through the vent. The metal was already searing her skin and she needed to get out. She could only presume the woman and Gentleman were dead, and Raven was about to join them.

She’d almost finished pushing the outer grate off when there was a louder, bigger boom behind her, followed by another blast of boiling air that frazzled her entire body while pushing it through the grate and onto the cool concrete below, knocking her unconscious.

Further away, Oscar Cotton smirked.

Raven, Gentleman and Whisper. The assassin, the spy and the thief, all in one go. All it took was a bit of manipulation and lighter fluid.

With them finally out of the way, he could start to enact his plan.

[wongiemei]

iKON Relationship with New Girl Member

Jinhwan:

Basically, her dad

Takes care of her the most dealing with her problems

He’s the oldest and he is used to dealing with the boys’ shit so he can handle hers too

But sometimes, it can be overwhelming

The girl member would listen to him like he would for her

Whenever she gets in trouble, he would always defend her (which annoys Bin a lot)

When she’s in that *cough* time *cough*, she would be the most comfortable with him

Jinhwan wouldn’t hesitate but go to the store 2 streets down and buy her chocolate, medicine, heating packs, chips, and tampons/pads

out of all the boys, she would trust him the most

if she needs something, she would go to him first

jinhwan loves to brag about that to the boys

he also loves the fact that someone is finally shorter than him

the boys still call him short but the girl defends him saying he’s taller than her

if anything, they should call her short

the first time it happened, jinhwan almost cried bc finally someone stood up for him

whenever he’s upset or hurt by what the others said, he hides it but she can usually tell 

the only one he speaks his problems to

she experiments with makeup on him since he’s the only one who lets her

ngl, she’s actually pretty good

‘i didn’t spend 2 all-nighters watching jeffree star and james charles for nothing’

but as long as he sees that bright smile, he’s happy

i think he would be the im-never-letting-you-go type with her because he sees her as the girl he saw for the very first time

shy and innocent

and he will be damned if someone corrupts her

Yunhyeong:

if Jinhwan is her dad, he’s her mom

makes sure she does laundry, gets up early, goes to bed on time, showers before the boys

will feed and cook for the girl even when he’s tired

thinks shes the cutest little thing

but he knows that if he finds chanwoo and her are talking amongst themselves, shes gone

gets pranked on the most

the boys would use the girl to take advantage of his kindness to her for a prank

then the girl would be guilty later on and secretly tell song what theyre planning

believe it or not, yunghyeong is pretty scary when he’s mad

so she rats the others out bc she knows he wont punish her and she could watch the boys suffer

its like killing 2 birds with one stone

but really, she appreciates him

without him, she would be stuck eating delivery and ramen every night

since she rooms with him, chanwoo, and hanbin, hes always cooking something

ikonics see her a lot in his vlives and YT channel

when he went to the jungle, she was very worried

‘hyung, you’re going to get sick there! who’s going to feed me when you’re gone? you know Bin can’t cook for shit!’

‘yah! do you only see me as your chef?!’

‘what do you mean i can’t cook?!’

he looks out for her a lot

during ikontv, she was the only one excited for the mungap trip

out of all the boys, she appreciates him the most

okay, maybe she appreciates him and jinhwan the most

but, he was the one who made her feel welcome and tried the most to help her fit in and make sure she was comfortable

will never forget when he left her a tray of food at her door when she refused to leave her new room

there was a post-it note with encouraging words and she still has it to this day

just a wholesome mother-daughter relationship that will never be broken

Bobby:

oh, my baby

as i mentioned in the earlier post, he wasn’t very upset but he wasnt happy

but he wasnt upset enough to make her feel uncomfortable

bc jiwon is such a baby and so nice that he subtly helps her

over time, they build a cute relationship where he is like her older brother

steals her food all the time

‘no! song-hyung cooked that for me! Only for me!’

‘yah! it’s rude not to share with your elders!’

‘*mumbling* wdym elder. you’re practically a 5 year old’

jiwon has no mean bone in his body and you were practically an angel to him

well, when you’re not fooling around or goofing off

although he thought you wouldnt survive in iKON, he tries to help you as much as he can

even though bin is literally a big butt and gives you a hard time, jiwon helps you

like the time bin screamed at you because you couldnt get the dance right and you, being a strong woman who wouldnt let people push you around, screamed at him too

it resulted to you having a screaming match and the elders having to push you back because you were so close to punching him in the face and the youngers holding bin because he wouldnt hesitate to come at you

more on that in a sec

but you slammed the practice room shut and walked to the river to cool down

granted you were new to korea and didnt really know where you were going, you went to the place the guys took you to

bobby found you crying there and hes a very awkward little bean so it was hard for him to comfort you

since youre a girl and all

but you wrapped your arms around him and cried to his chest *cue confused and frozen bobby*

jiwon slowly wrapped his arms around you and whispered sweet nothings into your ear

since then, hes vowed to protect you bc youre basically the little sister hes wanted

B.I:

okay, lets get this bread

as i said in the beginning, he didnt like you

aT aLL

he wanted to give you a hard time bc he wanted to see how long you would last

these boys have been with him since their survival days and suddenly this girl comes in? no thanks bitch

but i think bin is just really frustrated bc he couldnt figure you out

the others, he knows like the back of his hands

but you? he doesnt know shit about you

*cue his bratty self*

we all know bin is actually a soft little puppy who needs to be protected by iKONICS and will sacrifice himself for his boys

and dont worry, he will soon come to love you too

when you locked yourself up in your room, jinhwan grabbed his ear and pulled him outside to scold him

but it resulted to bin and jinhwan arguing

‘if you dont get your shit together, we’re going to have some problems. you’re the leader arent you? then act like it’

every day you try to be nice to him but he just shrugs and sometimes even outright ignore you

but as time goes on, hanbin slowly figures you out

youre still scared of him and thinks hes a douche but you can see hes trying

he really is trying

he picks up your weird habits like unintentionally pout when you dont understand something or the tip of your nose sweating when youre nervous

before, he used to not ask for your input in any tracks but it has come to the point he would knock at your door in the ungodly time of 2 in the morning, asking if the draft is good

love scenario was your guys’ combined efforts

there will be an imagine with that^

since you came in bling bling era, he didnt really give you a lot of lines because he couldnt figure out your voice and your strengths

but now, he knows you very well too

‘yah, be careful. dont be eating a lot of that ice cream. you shouldnt even have any in the first place. youre lactose intolerant, remember?’

‘yes, bin. i think id remember if there was something wrong with me.’

there are petty little fights between you guys that used to be mean and hurtful but are now playful and downright cute

but that dreaded day of your biggest fight yet

in love scenario during bobby’s rap, there’s that fast move that even the others struggled in

but hanbin already got it nailed down bc hes a GOD

but you were struggling the most and hanbin tried to be patient and help you

it was just hard for you and you couldnt get it right

by the 100th time of him repeating it over and over again, he exploded

‘yah! how are you a dancer when you couldnt even get this right!’

you looked down ashamed while mumbling ‘sorry’

he yells again and you mess up 

AGAIN

he throws his hat down and gets up towards you

‘if you cant do it correctly, why bother with it? go home. you’re done’

jinhwan nervously puts a hand on his shoulder and goes in between them to try and difuse the situation

‘hanbin-ah. we’re having a hard time too. its not just her. the dance is just hard.’

‘i dont get we’ve done WAY harder choreo than this’

‘well, hanbin, remember. she wasnt here for that.’

‘maybe it was a mistake to put her here then. she isnt ready.’

you look up at him with flaring eyes

‘listen, you dont know anything that ive been through to get to where i am today so dont even say im not ready. YOU DONT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME!’

everyone stayed silent, even the maknaes bc theyve never seen her lash out like that

hanbin scoffed.

‘maybe if you actually opened up yourself to us and not hide in your damn room all day’

she stomped to him and pushed him

‘no MAYBE if you pulled your head out of your ass and take the time to get to know me then maybe you would! but NO! you decide to be a little bitch and throw tantrums just bc a girl joined your group. was your ego hurt that yg sent a girl to you? that you would need someone to make sure that this group doesnt crumble to the ground? bc with the way youre acting, the guys arent here just because youre a good leader. YOURE A TYRANT! THATS ALL YOU WOULD EVER BE!’

shit

Hanbin was FURIOUS

he pushed her back and the guys held on to them

you pushed them away and sent one last hateful glare before you made your way to the door

‘but dont worry, kim hanbin. because ill send my resignation letter to yang in the morning. im not putting up with your shit any longer’

there will be a whole ass imagine about that so it will contain when yall make up

but after that, yall are so cool

his sister loves you and he might start having a ‘thing’ 

more on that in a sec

Donghyuck:

oof my baby sunshine

previously stated, he was the only one excited for your arrival

so obvs, yall are very tight

you, bob, and dong do vlives together a lot and ikonics look forward to it all the time

always cheers you up

remember that prank for ikon tv where dong literally started comforting the girl?

well, he does that to you

he knows when you start to get upset and he rubs your back

sometimes, just a hug from him makes it all better

did i mention that he gives out the warmest hugs?

ace dancers

both of you love to do covers as bonding time

whenever you can’t sleep, you just go to the other dorm and go under the covers while he sings to you

he sees you as his little sister and reminds him of his own little sister back home

btw, he loves to give you gifts

but so do you

when yall were filming ikon tv, he always picked up something that reminded him of you

like when he went shopping with bobby for their studio, he got you a little cute figurine that you still have to this day

or when you went to lotte mall for your day off and bought him a little necklace

fans get excited bc they always see matching yall have

the two of you wear the most fan gifts

like when someone gave hanbin a shirt, you snatch it and wear it

like how dong takes bobby’s clothing

yall are so cute together and fans wish they had a brother or a sister like yall

Junhoe:

this hoe

jk, but he really looks hot in this one

yes, he hated you in the beginning but once he found out similarities between you, he started tolerating you

also to him, i think he oesnt like the fact that him and the others worked so hard to get where they are and he doesnt really know what you went through to get there

junhoe has the personality that may seem very cold at first but he easily opens up to others and that causes them to open up to him

he knows the struggles you went through to be in ikon

you’re older than him by a few months and you treat him like your child

‘junhoe-ah! dont forget to take your makeup off!’

‘yah! clean your room! its like a pigsty!’

he gets annoyed with it but he knows you just look out for him

he calls you ‘noona’ with that cute ass smile if he wants something

how can you say no to that

yalls laughs are so loud and yall are just loud in general

one time, yall had a competition on who could sing louder and the guys almost banned you from the apartment complex

the neighbors weren’t happy

he always asks you for fashion advice even though you don’t have a good fashion taste

you have the habit of spoiling him of clothes and shoes

‘noona, you don’t need to do this. take them back’

‘wtf they’re from busan. i’m not about to take a train ride there to return those. keep them.’

his mom absolutely adores you

always tells you to look after him and junhoe blushing like a maniac

‘mom, i’m bigger than her. i think she’d need more protecting than me’

he turns red whenever you pinch his cheeks together 

ngl, he had a crush on you but it faded away when he saw another member having a crush on you too

hes scared of him so hed rather back off

but you love him a lot and comfort him bc hes a little baby that really needs to be looked after

Chanwoo:

fuck, so cute

at first, chanwoo ignored you and made sure you were uncomfortable

even going as far as to disrespecting you

like being rude and being un-chanwoo

lets just say yunhyeong beat it out of him

as the youngest member, you baby him the most

‘oh, my little baby!’

initially, he was uncomfortable with it 

but now, he lives for it

pouts when you give another member too much attention

teases you about your short height all the time

helps you grocery shop mainly for him to carry the bags

‘dont worry, noona. im strong’

you find out that chanwoo actually joined the group last and had a hard time fitting in

you used this to your advantage to get closer to him with your similar situations

‘you know, being in an unfamiliar environment is hard. but having someone who understands your feelings makes it easier’

and he just looks up to you with those big brown eyes and you just melt

gamer buddies

love to go to pc cafes even though yall have your own respective computers at home

only goes for the food

always calls him when you’re stuck in one level

*cute Hanbin’s voice*

‘CHANWOO-YAH!!!! JUNG CHANWOO!!!’

even though he might act like a bitch sometimes, hes actually so soft and cute

hes your little baby and will always be your little baby even though yall are like 80

[sweetheartjeongguk]

second chances | prologue

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: royalty au, angst, romance, future smut

rating: pg

warning(s): none at the moment 

word count: 1.8k+

summary: blessings come in all shapes and sizes. in your case, it comes in the form of a man napping in the flower bed outside your cottage.

a/n: sorry for the long wait! i’ve been busy with school and work, and i lost some inspiration during that time. enjoy this new series! 

masterlist

Blessings come in all shapes and sizes.

In your case, it comes in the form of a man napping in the flower bed outside your cottage. At first, you think that your vision was taking a turn for the worst. There’s no way that anyone from the village would travel ten miles to come sleep in a pile of daisies and wildflowers outside your house.  If anything, it’s just a one way ticket to blotchy rashes and a horrible case of the sniffles.

You decide - as any sane person would do - that you should poke the body with the branch you had found on your journey from the marketplace that you decided to use as a walking stick. One poke, two pokes - nothing. You gulp when the body continued to lie motionless on the muddy earth.

For a moment, you fear the worst.

What if someone comes across this scene and accuses you of murdering an innocent man who just wanted to lay and admire the scenery around you? You can’t even prove that you didn’t do it - after all, the man’s probably dead! You can’t afford to leave your sister and her husband penniless while you rot away in the local prison with not a gold coin to your name.

‘He doesn’t look that heavy. Maybe I can bury him in the back and if anyone asks about the random dirt pile, pretend that I was starting my garden a season too late?’

“Alright, I’m up. Can you stop poking me now?”

You choke on a scream when the body grunts at you. So, he isn’t dead after all! More than half of the man’s face is covered by his jacket he flung across to shield from the afternoon sun, but you’re able to catch a small glimpse of his eyes - bloodshot, crusted over with sleep, and unimpressed.

“Sorry! Sorry…” You pull your arm back, tossing the stick behind you and nervously sticking out your hand. Hopefully he won’t be able to notice the sweat building up on your palm. “Let me help you up.”

“I’m fine.” He groans, completely ignoring your kind gesture as he pushes himself off the ground with slight difficulty.

You watch as he takes a small tumble to the right before straightening up and brushing off the excess dirt and grass from his clothes. You try not to snicker at the streaks of dirt and clumps of grass still entangled in his black mop of a hairstyle.

“Sorry for disturbing you, but I’ll be on my way now.” He speaks through gritted teeth, ignoring the throbbing pain in his lower back and legs from his long journey from the far-side of the kingdom. “Don’t go poking strangers with a stick next time, alright?”

Your mouth twitch up into a nervous smile. With nothing more to say, he fastens his belt tighter and turns on his heel towards the gravelly road behind your cottage. It’s not hard to notice the little limp in his step and the darkening bruise that peeked from beneath his coat. Your little hands unconsciously grips on the small sack of coins you earned that morning, squeezing anxiously as his figure draws further and further away from you.

You should leave him be. You should let him keep walking into the woods, never looking back and never giving you one last word in the conversation. You should ignore the sick feeling in your stomach that something was wrong.

That you were letting go of something precious.

“Wait!”

He turns.

You shouldn’t have looked in his eyes.

“What’s your name?”

“I don’t know we’re going to keep up with all these expenses. The king’s already raised the tax by a few silvers, and we’ve only scraped by a couple coins this week alone.”

You can’t help the sigh that escapes your lips, expelling your frustration in hot puffs of air. You try your hardest to ignore the barren jar that sits in front of you and the man in front of you. Covered in a thin layer of dust and cobwebs, it’s practically laughing and spewing insults in your face.

You have no money! No money! No money!

“I can pick up another delivery job from Sue down the road. She’s always looking for some help into town.” You weakly supply, fingers twitching to take ahold of the glass in front of you. The look of your companion’s face keeps you at bay.

“She’s already getting help from that boy two miles down. Yeontan or something like that.”

“Yeonjun.” You swat at his shoulder. “Then what about the Kims at the marketplace? Their son’s been gone for at least a year now, they might need some help with their store.”

“No,” Your friend sighs impatiently. “Namjoon’s back already from his military service. Came back last week. Something about coming back home and marrying that boy he was friends with as a kid. Jin, I think.”

Your form immediately crumbles. Sure, you’re happy that someone as sweet and kind as Kim Namjoon could return home and get married to the love of his life. You can’t help but feel an inkling of bitterness creep into your veins. You feel a tap on your palm, urging you to look up from the splintery kitchen table and into the tired but understanding eyes of your best friend.

“We’ll take care of this like we’ve always have.” His fingers interlock with yours, sending you a small burst of relief with a single touch. “I’ll ask for more work down at the quarry. They’re always needing extra hands around there.”

“Taehyung, I-I can’t ask you to do that. You’ve already helped out with last month’s payments.” You shake your head fervently, fighting through a wavering tone. “I-I can’t keep making my problems your problems too.”

“Last time I checked, you’re my best friend. If you’re going through hell, I’m right behind you every step of the way.” Taehyung squeezes your palm again. “You’ll never be a burden to me.”

Thick globs of tears well up in the corner of your eyes, completely contrasted by the wide smile you send him. Immediately noticing the glistening sheen, Taehyung starts furiously shaking his head and wagging his finger from side to side.

“Nope, nuh-uh. You know how I feel about crying - if you cry, I cry. Then, everything will just get awkward.” You choke on your laughter, eyes still watery and burning from tears.

Taehyung’s joking grimace softens into a slant. “We’ll get through this, we always do. You’ll be fine.”

You’ll be fine.

Taehyung frowns when there’s an uncomfortable twitch in your smile. “Did I say something wrong?”

You shake your head.

“Did I remind you of him again?”

You scoff, rubbing at the stray tears that accidentally drip down your cheeks. “No, of course not. That’s old news already.”

“Are you sure?” Taehyung asks again, his voice even softer and cautious.

You hate being treated by a delicate flower whose petals are barely holding onto the stem. You’ve dealt with it your entire life. When your parents died. When your sister and her husband left for the neighboring village two years ago. When he left.

Bristling slightly, you nod.

“Of course, don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl.”

He knows you’re lying. After all, you’ve been friends with Taehyung since you were children and living the life with your happy family in the once warm and loving cottage. Now, it’s only filled with dust and forgotten memories in the form of ripped sepia-stained photographs and rusted necklace chains. Your home’s no longer a home, and you know that it’s been your fault. You could have held onto a little harder, listened a little more, worried a little less.

Maybe he would have stayed a little longer.

“My mother’s expecting me home in a bit, but I could stay a little longer if you’d like?” Taehyung asks, lips puffing up into a cute pout. “Maybe I can play with Haneul when he wakes up.”

You burst into a giggle. “Go home, Taehyung! You’ve done enough for the night!”

Leading him to the front of the house, you help Taehyung into his coat, sneaking a gold coin into the pocket without him noticing. You know that the gold coin could have been used for another repair on your house or even on a couple groceries from the marketplace, but if anyone else deserves that gold coin, it’s Taehyung.

“See you tomorrow! Tell the little squirt Uncle Taetae will see him later.” Taehyung blows you a teasing hand kiss as he rights himself in the driver’s position of the carriage and grabs ahold of the reins of the horse. “I’m looking forward for that little project he’s got going on.”

“You and me both.” You snort, leaning against the frame of your front door. “Have a safe trip, Tae.”

Waving with one hand, he snaps the reins into action and heads off in the direction of his house - behind your house and down the gravelly path into the trees.

You don’t call after him. Instead, you turn on your heel and disappear behind the broken door of your cottage, swaddled in complete silence and an uncomfortable draft let in through the faulty window by the kitchen sink. You should put the money jar back on its spot next to the front door on a rickety side table that’s about ready to collapse at any minute.

Yawning tiredly, you head into your bedroom, the thought of sleep and warm blankets seducing you back into the comforts of your bed. When you push open the creaky door, the corner of your mouth curls into a half-smile at the tiny bump in the sheets completely covered under the massive wool blanket. Tiptoeing carefully across the wooden floorboards to the right side of the bed, you peel back the blanket, holding back a coo at the sight.

Rosy cheeks slightly damp from the heat of the room and dotted with barely-there freckles. Curled up on his side with his thumb threatening to pop back into his drooling mouth. Dark hair an absolute mess, sealed across his forehead by the film of sweat on his face.

You chuckle at the storybook tucked underneath his pillow - it’s a wonder he sleeps soundly with the thick pages pressing against the back of his neck. You’ve endured too many hours of role playing what feels like a million different characters, ranging from an ancient, scraggly dragon with a smoking problem and an innocent princess who falls in love with the knight who rescues her to a wise, middle-aged king with a mighty beard and an old witch who lives in a swamp. You’ve suffered through crocodile tears when you happily announce the end of the story, but your little stubborn prince demands more story time - but this time, everyone’s a dragon.

In accordance to “royal decree”, you were forced to carry him across the house for an entire afternoon as you pretend to soar through the air and fly across the entire kingdom in search of “the powerful and mighty King Haneul”.  

You may regret many things in your life, but you’ve never regretted your little boy.

Not for one second.

[kawa-boru]

Support

KawaBoru—Rated M

Being in high school wasn’t so bad, but it wasn’t great either. While I had to keep my grades high in hopes of receiving a scholarship so I could get into college, I still wanted to do things any teenage boy would want to do. So I needed to make money, but making money meant working, and working meant I didn’t have much time to do what I wanted to do.

Gardening was something easy to do, and many people didn’t like to do it for themselves and they had no problem paying me to do it. After a year, I’d gotten pretty good and I actually enjoyed the work. I had enough yards to do to keep me enough money for anything I wanted, especially since securing my newest addition.

The place was owned by some guy that was in college and he’d found me one day while I was working for someone else. It happened like that often and I was always happy to take on more work. But his place was huge and I had to dedicate my saturdays to working only for him.

I didn’t mind though, he paid me really well and I may have had a little crush on him anyway. I didn’t think he was into guys, which was disappointing but that didn’t keep me from admiring him any chance I got. Even if he was into guys, he probably wouldn’t like me—I was younger… still in high school. I couldn’t keep up with him. But I wished I could.

Summer would be here before I knew it, but even these days early into spring were hot. It was strange that I actually looked forward to going to his place on Saturdays, because I wanted to see him. I really wished he would notice me.

His name was Kawaki and every inch of him was so sexy that I was all too often distracted from my work. Most Saturdays he had friends over, sometimes they went swimming in his pool, but they played basketball more than anything. I wondered if he played for his school, because he was really good.

I never got a chance to ask, but it didn’t really matter. As long as I could watch him play at home I was more than content. Just as I was today.

Trimming the hedges around the back of the house, my eyes kept drifting over to him. For once none of his friends were over, he was on the court playing basketball by himself. I was less trimming and more staring at him, mesmerized by his tan, inked skin that was covered in sweat and also by the way his muscles flexed with every movement.

So much running, and how anyone could look so irresistible just by shooting a basketball towards the goal was beyond me. I was near drooling by the time he left the ball on the bench on the side of the court and looked over at me.

My heart started pounding and I was quick to make it look like I was doing something. He was coming over. God, I couldn’t believe he was coming over, but he was and I held my breath and looked up at him when he stopped right next to me.

“It’s hot as hell today. Come inside and take a break.”

Today was indeed hot, but he’d never invited me in for a break before and I wasn’t sure what to think. I actually had a lot of work to do still, because I’d been watching him for so long, but I didn’t want to turn down the offer, so I nodded and followed him inside through the back patio and through the sliding glass door.

From the outside alone I’d figured the inside of his home was really nice, but I was impressed by how clean and modern it was. As far as I knew, he lived alone and I wasn’t sure what kind of work he did, but he had to be pretty loaded to have such a nice place. It seems even bigger on the inside, I thought as I followed Kawaki into the kitchen.

He was so tall and built, absolutely perfect. His hair stayed freshly cut, the undercut always short and neat while the top was much longer. His ears were pierced, a pair of studs in them at all times and his right brow was pierced too, two hoops just on the corner. His tattoos were everywhere, but it surprised me that he had one under his left eye, high on his cheekbone—the roman numeral nine. I wondered what it was for.

Kawaki went to the refrigerator and grabbed two bottles of water, passing one to me. I took it, unable to keep my eyes from trailing down his exposed torso. It was cold in his house and there were chill bumps all over his skin now. I wanted to touch him. Just one time and I’d be happy.

“How old are you?” He asked and I looked up into his grey eyes, my face heating at the way he looked at me. It was just a thoughtful look, but god he was beautiful.

“I-I… sixteen.” I stammered and was so embarrassed by getting so flustered that my blush deepened and I couldn’t help but look down at the floor. Anywhere except that face.

“Hm. Too young to be giving me those eyes.” He muttered and I bit my lip, holding tighter to the bottle of water in my hand.

I didn’t know what he meant by that, at all, but I didn’t like it. “I’m not too young for anything.” I huffed, cheeks puffing out as I pouted.

He came closer, close enough to steal my breath away and I tried to remain calm but that flew out the window as soon as he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled, forcing my head back—forcing me to look up at him.

My heart completely stopped and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. All I could do was stare up at him in shock. Kawaki went from looking so serious, to amused—smiling as if his day had just been made.

“You’re still a baby. Way too young for me.” He said, his hand releasing my hair and sliding down the back of my neck, around to my collar bone. His thumb ran up my throat slowly and I swallowed hard. “It’s too bad.”

Then he removed his hand and stepped around me, walking to the living room. I finally breathed, trying to come to terms with what he just said and with the way his hand felt on me. But I was angry. I was so angry. He thought I was a baby?

“Hey!” I went after him, glaring down on him as he sat on the couch. “I’m not a baby! And I meant to say I’ll be seventeen next week on the twenty seventh. Besides, I can do whatever I want.”

He chuckled as I put my hands on my hips and leaned back on the couch in nothing but those basketball shorts and just… god he was so hot.

“How old are you anyway?” I asked nervously. I really didn’t know anything about him. I assumed he was in college, but I didn't know for how long. By his size and features, it was near impossible to gauge his age. I figured he was around his early twenties.

“Nineteen.” He answered simply and I gasped. “Don’t be so surprised.”

“I’m not! I’m not surprised… I’m mad! You’re only two years older than me and you call me a baby!”

His face softened as he smiled and it melted me. I couldn’t stand it. He was way too much for my heart. “You look like a baby. So cute.”

My blue eyes widened and the back of my neck burned. “You… you think I’m cute?”

“Yeah. I think you’re real fucking cute.” He admitted with a smirk and patted the couch next to him.

I quickly took the seat, not willing to miss the invitation. He thinks I’m real fucking cute. I knew I would never get over those words and while usually, when my mom or sister would call me that I would get offended—hearing Kawaki say it really set my heart a flutter. It was suddenly hotter in his house than it was outside.

“So you like me.” He stated instead of asking and I blushed yet again. “That’s okay because I like you too… but there’s no point in you getting involved with me.”

My face fell and I stared at the water bottle in my hands as I thought over those words. “Why not?” I asked quietly, wanting to understand.

“Because I don’t have time for a relationship. I’ve already declared my eligibility for the upcoming NBA draft in June.”

“What?” I was taken aback for a moment, even if I had watched him play and knew that he was good, I had no idea that he was passionate enough about basketball to try and go pro.

“You can bet your sweet ass I’ll be picked so I’ll be traveling a lot. And I have no way of knowing which team I’ll end up on either. In short, if you just wanted to hook up that would be one thing… but I can’t have you falling in love with me and shit.”

And he knew as well as I did… that I would most likely be unable to just hook up with him and not catch feelings. I’d never been in a relationship before and I’d only had sex once. It was awful, but I knew the guy just didn’t know what he was doing—much like me. I wanted to try it again. If I could have sex with Kawaki… and have nothing more, that would be okay. As long as I knew what I was getting into.

“I want to try it.” I told him bravely, glancing at him while trying to fight off the anxiety I felt. “I mean… I want to hook up. I’m not going to fall for you.”

“How can you be so sure?” He asked, leaning dangerously close and without thinking about it, I backed away. This didn’t deter him though, he crawled over me and I wound up on my back, his hips pressing down on mine.

I felt faint, unable to handle his face being so close to mine—and definitely not his weight on my groin. I feared he would notice how strongly and rapidly my heart was beating, at least until I realized I had something much more worrisome I didn’t want him to notice.

Crap crap crap. Why now?

“Damn, Boruto.” He grinned, grinding down on me as a means to let me know he hadn’t missed it and I almost wanted to die. Almost.

“J-just pretend you didn’t feel that a-and get off.” I whispered, not wanting him on me when I was dirty and sweaty. It was hot on him, but not me.

“I thought you wanted me.” He hummed, amused and his only movement was to grind against me more firmly.

I let out a noise that was between a squeal and a whimper, which left me feeling even more mortified. He was so hot that it aroused me just looking at him, but I couldn’t look away. My eyes greedily took him in, that absolutely gorgeous face that inched closer to me steadily. My breathing picked up as his head moved next to mine and I stiffened when I felt his breath on my ear. It caused my whole body to shudder and my cock to harden even more under his weight.

“Kawaki,” I gasped and the soft breath he pulled in told me that he liked my reaction.

“You really want me, don't you?” His voice was so husky, lips right at my ear and I just couldn’t handle it.

His hips moved again, starting a steady rhythm and his teeth tugged on my earlobe. His large body over me only heightened everything else I was feeling. I knew I’d never been so consumed with desire in my life. The way he grinded on me felt better than my own hand full on stroking my cock and at this rate…

“If I fucked you, you would never be able to forget it.” He told me with all the confidence in the world.

His voice was so sexy and he never stopped grinding, soon I could feel his own erection moving against mine and his thin, loose shorts didn’t contain it nearly as well as my jeans did mine. It felt like heaven and I was so easily lost in the moment, hands clinging to his arms as his teeth nibbled at my neck. His hand went to my ear, fingers ghosting around the shell and then his thumb and index finger took a hold of it right above my earlobe and he pulled gently. At the same time, his lips pressed an open mouthed kiss to my neck and then sucked the spot, all while his cock rubbed against mine.

It was too much, more than enough to drive me crazy—and even enough to make me come. I breathed heavily, unable to hold back the moan that fell from my lips as I came in my pants, thrusting up against him through the intense sensation. Kawaki’s lips smacked as he pulled away from my neck and stared down at me with an incredulous look.

The desire in his grey eyes was so raw I feared I would get lost in them. I was hot, still trying to catch my breath and so overcome with pleasure that I couldn’t even be bothered by the fact that I’d just came like I had. There was no time to be embarrassed right away, not when he looked at me like that and he was so sexy I wanted him more than anything.

“So quick… I didn’t know you’d be so easy to please, Boruto.” He smiled at me, his words not harsh or judgemental. My breathing finally started to calm, a high unlike any I’d ever felt having washed over me. His hand laid over my chest, right above my heavily beating heart. “I like you a lot more now.”

“But… but I…”

“So fucking cute.” He sighed, eyes falling to his hand on my chest that slid up to my collar. I never ever thought I’d get to see such a look of admiration in his eyes, not for me. “I’ll take care of you, okay?”

I nodded slowly as he got off of me and my eyes betrayed me, quickly moving below his waist. He was so hard and wasn’t bothering to hide it. I sat up, fighting off the daze I was in. Kawaki was going to have sex with me now. I wanted it. I really wanted it.

“Come on.” He offered me his hand and I took it happily, getting up and following him through his home until we reached his bedroom.

It was as clean as the rest of the place, very neat and modern. Lots of black and grey. But he didn’t stop there, he pulled me into his bathroom and released me to get the shower started. Getting in the shower with him and seeing him naked… god it was as if every dream I ever had was coming true in a matter of minutes. Or so I thought.

“Get cleaned up. I’ll get you something to wear.”

My brows furrowed and I shifted my feet as I looked at him, confused. “What… But…”

“No buts. Get in the shower.”

He left the bathroom, leaving me no room to argue about it. I stripped and got in the shower, taking my time in washing myself. It did make sense for me to get cleaned up first, I had been working for hours and then came in my pants. There was no reason to feel down about it, he wanted me. I knew he did. So, I just knew that when I got out of the shower, I was going to be able to have Kawaki.

When I finished showering, there was a pair of black basketball shorts, grey briefs and a white tank top sitting on the sink. They were folded so neatly and I wondered if he always took such care of everything as I got dressed. The tank top fit well enough, the shorts did too but they were so long on me, though so so comfortable.

He was in his room when I walked in there, straightening up with his hands on the waistband of a clean pair of basketball shorts—just having pulled them up. His hair was damp and I could tell that he’d taken his own shower, more so from the smell of him than the wetness of his hair.

So now…

“It’s not happening… not today.” He said softly, but I still couldn’t hide my disappointment. “Don’t start with the buts. If you want it to happen, come see me after your birthday. Before then, it’s not happening.”

That had really made me sulk, but I could tell I wouldn’t get anywhere by arguing with him about it, so I just told him I understood and left. He told me not to work anymore for the day so I just gathered all my things and made my way home. Himawari questioned me about the clothes I wore and I really didn’t want to deal with her. My sister was a sweetheart and I adored her, but she had a way of prying that really irked me sometimes.

For my birthday, my parents took me out to eat at my favorite restaurant and then my friends kidnapped me, surprising me with a party unlike any I’d ever been to before. Shikadai was my best friend, and he was the culprit. His parents just so happened to be away for the weekend and he’d managed to gather a large crowd and alcohol too. I’d only drank once before and knew that drinking underage wasn’t good for many different reasons, but I still agreed to have a few drinks for my birthday.

It didn’t end well at all. I don’t know if I drank too much, drank the wrong thing or what but I ended up really feeling the alcohol and after that—one of the girls that was at the party came onto me and I almost let myself believe that I could do it… but I couldn’t. I wound up running from the party, desperate to get away. The night air was surprisingly hot and I was so miserable as I walked down the street, not even sure where I was going. I hadn’t said anything to anyone and I knew it wasn’t very wise of me to just run off like that, but I’d felt like it was my only choice.

After a little while a car slowed next to where I was walking and fearfully, I glanced over as the window rolled down. The guy driving wasn’t someone I recognized.

“Hey, aren’t you Kawaki’s lawn boy?”

This guy knows Kawaki?... He knows me?

“Gardener.” I corrected and stopped walking.

“Need a ride, dude?”

Against my better judgement, I nodded and got in the car with him. “You can just take me to the park or something. I can’t go home right now.”

“Oh well, you can just come with me if you can’t go home.” He said with a smile. “I’m Iwabe by the way.”

My stomach was unsettled, I even felt a bit nauseous from being in the car so I never responded. I was busy trying to sober up until the car pulled to a stop and Iwabe cut the engine. He swatted my arm with the back of his hand and urged me to get out. I did so, but had immediate regrets upon seeing we were at Kawaki’s place.

“What are we doing here?” I asked, unsure about facing him now when it had been a while. Since the incident inside his home, I had only been back once and he hadn’t been home while I did my work.

“I was on my way here to talk to Kawaki for a minute. You might as well walk inside. He won’t care.”

I wasn’t so sure, but I didn’t need to be convinced further. I followed Iwabe to the door, surprised that he just let himself in, but I said nothing—just walked in behind him. Everything was a little hazy and I stopped once we were inside, feeling like I needed just a moment to collect myself.

“Whoa, you alright man?” Iwabe asked, arms wrapping around me to hold me upright. I’d started wobbling and probably would have fallen had it not been for him moving to help support me.

“Sorry, I…”

“What the hell?” Kawaki’s voice boomed and though my brows raised, my head was so heavy I didn’t even attempt to raise it to look for him.

“Yo. I’m just giving him a ride.”

“Boruto. Have you been drinking?” Kawaki demanded and I groaned when I was snatched out of lwabe’s grasp and tugged until I hit what felt like a brick wall.

“Ow.”

“Where did you find him?” Kawaki snapped, holding me tight against himself.

“He was walking down the street so I offered him a ride. That’s it. Why are you so pissed?”

“Go to my room.” Kawaki told me, giving me a little push.

He sounded so mad and he and Iwabe were arguing as I wandered through the house. It took me a few minutes to find his room in the dark and the nausea hit me as soon as I was through the door. Thankfully the bathroom wasn’t far and I made it to the toilet in just enough time to puke without making a mess. If I wouldn’t have been so intoxicated, I would have been humiliated but there was no room for those feelings, even after I started dry heaving—and even after that finally passed.

Collapsing on the floor, breathless and hot, I groaned in misery. The cold floor felt good so I rolled onto my side and laid my hot cheek on it. The room was spinning and I felt horrible. I’ll never drink again. Ever.

On the verge of passing out, I was too dazed to catch anything Kawaki said to me when he found me in the bathroom, but I was well aware of him. He wiped my face with a cold, wet washcloth and at the time, it was the best feeling I’d ever had. I didn’t remember anything after that—until I woke up in his bed.

Kawaki wasn’t in the room, but his scent was everywhere and it didn’t take me long to remember how I’d gotten to his house. How I’d ended up in his bed was another matter entirely.

It was hard to believe that I didn’t feel like crap, but I wasn’t going to complain about it. Pushing the cover off of me, I found that I’d been changed. I was shirtless and wearing a pair of his shorts. They were so comfy, I’d already gotten attached to the other pair I’d gotten from him.

When I didn’t find him anywhere inside, I let myself out the back door and heard the familiar sound of the basketball being dribbled on the court. While I worried he may be playing with some of his friends, I found him alone. It was late morning and not as hot as it had been recently. It actually felt really good outside, yet he was still sweating. I loved watching him, so that’s what I did until he spotted me and quit playing.

Feeling nervous, I looked at the ground as he walked over to me. He seemed so mad last night when I came with Iwabe. I didn’t really know what to say, but I figured an apology would be best.

“I’m sorry I ended up here last night… I didn’t mean to. I don’t want you to be angry with me.”

“You have a blatant disregard for your own safety. You could have been hurt last night, or worse. I’m glad you ended up here and are okay. Why did you drink though? You’re way too young for that.”

I frowned at him, feeling uneasy with the way his eyes stayed on my face—his expression so impassive. It was hard to tell if he was actually mad or not and while I didn’t want to say the wrong thing, I didn’t want him treating me like a kid either.

“I’m old enough to support myself you know. If I want to drink, I’ll drink. If I want to fuck, I’ll fuck. Nobody is going to stop me.”

“Hm.” Kawaki tried to tone down his amusement, but after a few seconds he laughed loudly. Even his grey eyes brightened and he looked so genuinely happy that my stomach flopped. “You’re naive, Boruto. And alcohol won’t get you very far in life. Not at your age, mine, or any.”

“It’s not like I’m an alcoholic, Kawaki, gosh. It was only the second time I’ve ever drank in my life and the only reason I did is because of my friends throwing me this stupid party that I wish I’d never gone to. I never want to drink again. But… if I change my mind, then I’ll drink because I can.”

“Well shit. You didn’t need to go on a rant. I’m not your keeper. I don’t care what you do.” Kawaki sighed, running his hand through his hair. His words didn’t match his expression. I felt bad then because I could tell he was worried about me—even if I didn’t understand it.

“I’m sorry… and I’m okay. Really, I’m a smart guy. I made a mistake last night but you don’t need to worry about me.” I said, watching him carefully.

“I’m not worried about you.” He lied quickly, not looking at me until the words were already in the air. “Let’s just go inside. I’ll make you breakfast.”

Kawaki will make me breakfast? “R-really?” I blinked at his back as he walked towards his back door and when I realized he wasn’t going to answer, I hurried after him.

Learning new things about him was nice. He really loved basketball, he kept his house clean and he could cook. I’d been impressed just watching him move around in his kitchen, but it didn’t really hit me until I tasted his cooking. It was delicious. Just as good as my moms. At his age and by his looks, I would have never expected he was such an organized person, but he was. The more I learned about him, the more I liked him.

Claiming he’d already eaten breakfast earlier that morning, he didn’t eat with me. Instead he went and had a shower while I ate and I was glad I had enough time to wash my dishes and clean up after myself before he returned. I stood silently by the counter as he walked over, dressed in a white tanktop and his usual basketball shorts. He was also wearing a pair of black and white Nikes that looked good with his shorts. He was so hot… and I wasn’t sixteen anymore.

“I’ll give you a ride home.” He told me as he grabbed some keys that were hanging up in the kitchen.

My face fell, lips frowning and brows furrowing. “But…” This wasn’t right. “But…”

“But?” His head turned to me and then he walked over, looking down at me curiously. “But what?”

Knowing all my blood rushed to my cheeks, I quickly turned my face away from him, knowing he wouldn’t miss the blush anyway. “But I thought…”

“What did you think?” He prompted patiently, calmly.

My feet shifted and I stared at the floor for a few seconds before saying, “I thought we were… that we could… I mean, you said…”

“Whoa, dude.” He chuckled and laid his hand on my shoulder. “Relax. If you want to fuck, all you need to do is ask.”

Ask? “I want… yeah I want to.”

“Want to what?” He asked, determined to get me to say it. My blush only worsened.

“F-f-fuck.”

How embarrassing.

“Wow that’s adorable.” He hummed, dropped his keys on the counter and then was towering over me—arms winding around my waist and pulling me flush against him.

Instantly, my heart was pounding. Holding onto his arms, I sucked in a broken breath as his lips inched towards mine. The thought alone of Kawaki kissing me had me melting, and when his lips touched mine I was at a loss—unable to think or move at the foreign and very welcome sensation.

I didn’t have much experience in kissing, but that didn’t seem to be the case for Kawaki. His lips moved against mine so knowingly, it made it seem like I knew what I was doing. When his tongue ran between my lips, I gasped and Kawaki jumped on the opportunity as if he’d been expecting it—slipping his tongue into my mouth and finding mine.

The initial feeling of his tongue sliding across mine had my knees buckling—I was certain if it hadn’t been for him holding me so securely, I would have crumbled onto the floor. By then, I wasn’t coherent enough to even try and kiss him back, but he seemed unbothered by it. He still kissed me, so softly it was touching at times and then so hard it was bruising. I whimpered against his lips and then groaned when he took my bottom lip between his teeth.

(You can read the full version on my FanFiction.Net account @ tyytyys yaoi)

[lchufflepuffcorn]

All those years waiting

I do not own the gifs nor the arts. All credits to the owners. I do not own Voltron eighter. 

Warning: A little bit -like a tiny bit- of angst. No spoilers !!! 

Words: 724

Author’s note: It is very short... 

You had waited all those years for him to return. After been kicked out of the Garrison and after Shiro's disappearance, you stayed by his side. When he left to save Shiro into the space depth, you hoped every day for him to come back.

A palette of emotions had flowed into your soul then and even at this moment. It was rocking back and forth between furiousness, sorrow, and indifference. Then, one day, you woke up with a Galra ship cruising in the atmosphere on top of your head. All the emotions came back at full blast. For the first time, you felt hatred for him. Before you even knew it, you were planning out camisados and other ambushes to give a hand to the Garrison. Now, when you had the time to catch your breath from everything that was going on, you couldn't help but raise your eyes toward the cyanic sky and wonder if he knew.

Then Keith came back, with Shiro, and all the others. It was just like everything never happened to them. They were celebrating almost everything was perfect. You didn't know how to react. Your long lost friend came back. All sorts of emotions were dancing inside of you. You couldn't deal with the lot of them. Your heart was running with nervousness, your palms were sweating because of the delight to see him again, and yet, you were mad at him. You felt bad about it, but you knew you had the right to feel irate, even though he didn't appear to understand it the same way you were. So you tried not to see him quite often, you were doing a great job at hiding from him.

One day, while you were over-working yourself yet again to find the best plan to help the Garrison on ground missions, he spotted you. Not that you were hiding, you honestly assumed he would go on the calling with the rest of his partners. He didn't, consequently leading to a quarrel within the two of you. Dense as he was, even after all those years in the conflict, much longer than you had experienced, he couldn't fathom why you would put a distance between him and yourself.

You tried to do as if he wasn't there for a while, and it worked out for sometimes. That was until he grew tired of it and spoke. ''Can't we just talk?''

''About what?'' You asked without even looking in his general direction. However, your head was close to your draft of a plan. ''About this... I mean, I don't understand why you're avoiding me.''

You tried to keep a straight face, after all, you were not to show him how angry you were at him. You couldn't let him think that he held some power whatsoever over your emotions. You sat your pen down on the table to finally look at him. Your eyes met his purple orbs without a shadow of sentiments. You were excellent at giving these eyes, with all these years of training. For a moment you stayed silent before turning your glare back at your sheet.

''Keith. I'm sorry. I would love to talk, but I'm busy right now.''

''You're always busy working on whatever!''

The look you shot back at him made him shiver, and he didn't know if it was from fear or something else. ''Well, unlike you, I'm having a hard time proceeding that the world could come to an end so, I'm doing my best to save what you fucked up!''.

The sentence went straight to his heart, piercing it like an arrow. Nevertheless, he didn't flinch, nor did he talk back. You had the right to be angry at him.  Even if he understood why you didn't want to anymore, he had still hoped for you to dive in his arms when he came back. Your harsh words were, however, better than not having you speaking to him.  

''I'm sorry.''

''Well, if you are, let me work in peace and leave.''

''I just want to talk.''

You didn't respond anything, getting your pen back on your sheet. Still, you had no ideas for your plan. '' I don't.'' Keith sighed and sat on the ground. He could always wait for you to finish whatever you were doing at the moment.

[ancientbooshartifacts]

Get Inside You, Boy

Author: Culumacilinte

Year: 2008

Rating: R

Pairing: Howard/Spirit of Jazz

Asleep in his bed, Howard Moon shifted fitfully, rolling onto his side and bunching up his pillow under his head.  His lips moved imperceptibly, muttering nonsense syllables.  In the cold moonlight filtering through the window, a sheen of sweat glimmered on his forehead, making damp curls stick to the skin.

A voice sifted through his dreams, interrupting a particularly pleasant image of Mrs. Gideon sorting bookmarks while Howard looked on with a fond smile.

Howard Moon…

He whimpered a little and his knees drew themselves up to his chest, his slumbering brain focussing harder on the image of Mrs. Gideon.

Wake up, boy!  I’s talkin’ to you.

Mrs. Gideon looked around, the lines of a frown twisting her smooth, creamy brow.  ‘Howard?  Did you hear that?’

Dream-Howard shook his head nervously and adjusted his monocle.  ‘That’s nothing, Mrs. Gideon; nothing to worry your head about.’

Mrs. Gideon gave him a brilliant smile, laying a hand on his arm.  ‘Oh, you are so kind to me, Howard.  How is your novel coming, by the way?  The first draft was absolutely riveting!’

Her approval and recognition, even when it was nothing more than a dream, sent a glow to Howard’s heart and his face broadened in a dazzling grin.  Both grin and glow died, however, the instant the voice spoke again.

Shut up, girlie!  The voice was more insistent now, and was beginning to sound decidedly irritated.  This boyo’s mine.  Wake up, Howard Moon; get your fine ass outta them dreams and listen t’me!

Beneath his sheets, Howard trembled, clutching his comforter tight around him, his brow contorted in pig-headed persistence that he stay asleep.  The Howard in his dream trembled too, but he had nothing to clutch to him, and so instead put a comforting hand on Mrs. Gideon’s shoulder, trying his best to look manly and confident, a proper son of Leeds.  She, however, seemed not to have heard the voice at all and continued blissfully sorting her bookmarks.

‘Go away!’  Howard hissed, ‘Leave me alone!  I was having a good dream!’

The invisible voice chuckled cruelly.  Leave you alone, boy?  That ain’t never gonna happen.  You’s mine, baby, and when I call, you’s gonna answer me.  Y’ain’t got no choice.

Fists clenched at Howard’s sides, and he stared determinedly down at the ground.  ‘I have a choice, sir!  I am Howard Moon, Man of Action!  They call me Monsoon Moon; I’m a maverick!  You try and tell me what to do, and I’ll come at you like a skipping rope!  Like a-’

But the voice cut him off.

Mmm, yeah, you’s a maverick, peachy-face; but what kinda maverick, Howard Moon?  You know the answer.

Howard’s face fell; there was no denying it now, and both he and the owner of the invisible voice knew it.  ‘Jazz Maverick,’ He muttered, defeated.  The voice cackled exultantly.

That’s right!  You’s the Jazz Maverick, Howard Moon, and when the Spirit o’ Jazz tells you to wake up, you damn well wake!

The last word was almost a shout; or as close to a shout as the raspy voice of the Spirit of Jazz ever got, and Howard shot up in his bed with a yell.  It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but when they did… there was nothing.  Just darkness, and a square of blue rippling across the bedsheets where the moonlight came in.  He sagged against the headboard and closed his eyes, exhaling a quavering sigh of relief.

‘Thank god,’ he muttered into his chest.

‘Who ya thanking there, boy?  God?  He ain’t got nothin’ t’do with it.’

‘Augh!’

Howard’s eyes snapped open.  There at the foot of the bed stood the Spirit of Jazz, legs crossed and arms out in that familiar, overly-dramatic pose, white suit and top hat almost luminous in the darkness.  His eyes glowed red against the cool darkness of Howard’s room.  Howard was swamped with a sensation of complete and utter horror, any relief he had felt at seeing the room empty lost in an instant.  A prickle of goose bumps broke out on the skin of his forearms.

‘Missed me, have you boy?  Been a long time since I visited you.’

Howard trembled.  ‘What are you doing here?’  He asked quietly, ‘Haven’t you already troubled me enough?’

The Spirit of Jazz laughed raucously, baring disturbingly black teeth.  ‘Enough, sweetness?’  He echoed, ‘I ain’t never had enough, Howard!  And I been robbed o’ your fine self for so many years, after all...’

‘What do you want?’

He had begun to pull himself together, Howard.  At least, his voice shook less, and the look in his eyes was calmer, but inside, he was trembling like a tiny little girl from Leeds, albeit a tiny little girl with a moustache.  The Spirit of Jazz sneered at him, strangely pink tongue running over those black teeth.  He’d been inside Howard Moon; he knew this man, and he could practically taste his fear.  He could taste it, and he found himself to be particularly partial to the flavour.  He leered at Howard.

‘You knows what I wants, boy!  Surely y’ain’t that stupid.’

‘Oh, god...’  Howard’s voice was nothing more than a whimper, several pitches higher than any grown man’s ought to be, and he shrieked and screwed his eyes tightly shut as the Spirit of Jazz swooped down upon him.

‘Don’t kill me, please!’ He sobbed, ‘I’ve got so much to give!  I’ve- I’ve-’ But nothing happened, and feeling a slight sense of anticlimax, he unscrewed the left eye slightly.  He fairly leapt at the sight that met him, however; the Jazz Spirit was kneeling on the bed, straddling Howard’s legs laid out in front of him, arms propped up on either side of Howard’ torso, skeletal face scant inches from his.  At the moment, he was looking decidedly disappointed.

‘Don’t be an idiot,’ He said, voice- for once- devoid of delighted mockery.  He took a moment, and then seemed to regain his steam, exhaling a harsh rasp of a laugh against Howard’s skin.  ‘I wants you, boy!  I wants to get inside you, wear you like a soft lady’s glove.’

That tongue flickered obscenely against his teeth, and red eyes went wide and mad.

Howard drew back- or rather, he tried to, but found that the headboard of his bed was rather in the way.  He continued trying anyway.  ‘If you don’t mind, sir,’ he said weakly, ‘I’d really rather prefer it if you didn’t.  Um, that is, there’s a lot of things need doing at the zoo tomorrow, and I need to get my sleep...’

He trailed off weakly, and the Spirit of Jazz shook his head at him, seeming almost rueful.

‘Pathetic,’ he muttered, ‘You’s a jazz boy, Howard Moon, and you’s worried about workin’ at some dumbass zoo?   Y’see why I’s here?  You needs remindin’ ‘bout who you is, boy.’

A panic was blossoming in Howard’s chest now, but he tried to pull himself up regardless.  ‘Perhaps you could hoodwink me when I was a young man, sir, but Howard Moon is a man of action!  I’ll not be taken in that easily.  I-’ he stumbled somewhat, ‘I suggest you make your exit now, sir; you’ll be finding nothing you want here.’

The Spirit of Jazz chuckled again, and his grin was dark and cruel.  ‘Ahh, now see- that’s your problem, boy.  You thinks you’s gots a choice in the matter.’

And before Howard could react- could object or say anything- the Jazz Spirit surged forward and crushed his black lips to Howard’s in a brutal kiss.  

Howard let out a muffled cry, and the Spirit of Jazz disappeared against his lips, leaving nothing more than a lingering taste of ash and the wail of trumpets in his head.  Then, in the darkness, Howard’s eyes flamed red.

His whole body relaxed, suddenly warm and heavy with the feeling of good Louisiana whiskey, and a voice spoke inside his head.

There now, ain’t that better, boy?  You’s mine, you’s always been mine, and you likes it.

Howard nodded dreamily as his body slid back down to lie flat, one knee bent lazily.  He stared at the ceiling with crimson eyes, and one hand slipped down over the faint convexity of his belly, then up again to toy with a nipple though the fabric of his shirt.  He sighed faintly, ‘Yes...’ whispering out in the heavy air, and his voice was tinged with a raspy, Cajun twang.

You wants me, doncha boy?  Wants me all up in you?  A chuckle, It’s your lucky day, sweet cheeks.

The smell of dead cigarettes and cheap booze consumed Howard’s mind, the scent of the dirt and grime of a hundred people’s lives, accented inexplicably with the chemical tang of lemon cleaner.  He recognised that smell- the smell of The Blue Aubergine way back when, when Howard was a jazz legend in Yorkshire.  He had a guitar in his hands and his fingers were flying at incredible speeds, the incredible sounds of his jazz stylings carrying to the darkest corners of the pub.  The crowd was going wild, loving him, and he was their master-

Just like that, boy...

His hand gripped harder at his chest, fingers digging bruisingly hard into the scant muscle of his pectoral, and he groaned deep in his throat, his other hand tracing with maddening slowness down into his boxers.   A breathless laugh, exultant and rapturous, tripped from his lips as a hand stroked down the length of his half-hard prick.  Had it been Howard, he would have got things over with quickly and quietly, but this was the Spirit of Jazz, and he was a sadistic bastard.  He wanted to hear Howard moan, to see him arch up against the touch of his own hand, to want until he could stand it no longer.

And so he was slow, and in Howard’s head, a wild improvised trumpet solo built to incredible heights.

That’s right!  That there’s the power o’ jazz, Howard Moon.  Gets inside ya, gets under your skin, makes ya tingly.   Don’t nothin’ else make you feel like that, do it?  I knows you, boy; you wants me.  I’s jazz, and jazz is your lifeblood, ain’t it? You’s beggin’ me for it, baby.

Howard moaned, biting down hard on his lip as the hand snuck lower, cupping hotly at his bollocks, heavy in his hand, and further still to stroke over the tight ring of muscle there.  A shudder traversed its way up his spine, and the voice of the Spirit of Jazz cooed in his ear.

Oh-ho!  Y’likes that... So you’s that kinda man, hmm, Howard Moon?  Y’likes bein’ told what t’do, do ya?

In some far corner of his mind, Howard Moon tried desperately to reassert himself, pulling with all the strength in his Yorkshire bones.  He was a man of action, he told himself squarely.  A man of means and influence, the kind of man others looked up to; not someone who enjoyed taking orders from anyone, much less a Cajun freak in blackface!

That finger was still there though, rubbing back and forth in the crease of his arse, and when it pushed itself in, just past that first barrier, all his resistance crumbled.  He whimpered, straining against the feeling of his own finger inside himself, cool and strange and not nearly there enough.

Y’want me to fuck you, peachy face?  That what you want?

‘G-god, yes!  Please, yes...’

The Spirit of Jazz said nothing more, just laughed cruelly inside Howard’s head, on and on, ringing in the jazz club as the double bass thrummed in the background and the saxophone soared bluesily above the crowd.

The hand scrabbled on the bedside table for where Howard knew the lotion was, and then one finger, two, three were inside him, and Howard’s mouth went wide and slack, his eyes glazed with pleasure.  The angle was awkward, but Howard’s breath stuttered in his chest nonetheless when the Spirit of Jazz curled his fingers tight inside Howard, stretching places deep inside him.  When the other hand left off toying with his scant chest hair and slid down to slick itself over his cock, he fairly moaned, his hips bowing off the mattress into the touch of that hand- his, and yet somehow not at all.

The hand pumped, and the fingers inside him fucked Howard mercilessly, curling and stretching, his whole body pretzellling to try and get them deeper, harder.  But it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t good enough, and the Spirit of Jazz growled through Howard’s throat, working him faster.

Oh, yeah… the voice purred against Howard’s ear, That’s what you likes, ain’t it?  Ya likes to be fucked hard, Howard Moon, like a little bitch.

Howard groaned desperately.  ‘I- no, I-’

Say that so’s I can hear it, bitch!

‘Please!’ He choked out, arching frantically against the Jazz Spirit’s touch.  He couldn’t bring himself to say anymore, but the Spirit of Jazz felt it in his body, saw it in his mind, and he ran an invisible tongue across invisible teeth, leering invisibly at Howard.

Whatever you says.

The hand worked him harder, the other twisting inside him, and Howard’s vision fuzzed out for a moment from the sheer pleasure of it, his back arching.  He was so close, almost there, almost… there-

The trumpet solo rang out over the crowd, spiralling madly upward, twisting and turning in midair before finally, insanely, hitting a triple high C.  There was a hush, and the throng stared; for several slow-motion moments, the note hovered still, high and pure and utterly uncorrupted.

And then Howard collapsed onto his back, mouth wide open and gasping for breath, two lines of white painted across his stomach.  The Spirit of Jazz materialised beside the bed, leering down at him, his suit utterly pristine, hat still firmly in place.  Exhausted, Howard shook his head, looking away, trying to ignore the presence beside him, but the Jazz Spirit cackled into the night air and settled himself on the edge of the bed, almost daintily.

‘You liked that, boy?’

Howard didn’t answer, and instead pulled the blanket over himself, suddenly extremely conscious of his own nakedness.  It was cold in his room, colder than he could ever remember it being.

The Spirit of Jazz crowed with delighted laughter.  ‘Oh-ho!  And now’s the time for the psychological torment, hey?  Oh, baby, you’s a good time, Howard Moon.’

‘Go away,’ Howard muttered into his blankets.  It was too late for him to recover any measure of dignity, but he would not further prolong his torment.  He would not play along with whatever sick game the Spirit was playing.  That laugh scraped over his skin, though, a harsh rasp in the darkness, and Howard could feel the unnatural burn of his eyes.

‘I’s always here, boy!  I’ll go away, sure thing- I gots other things t’do- but I’s inside your head, Howard Moon.  Every time you listen to one o’ them old jazz LPs you loves so much, every time you falls asleep… I’m a-gonna be there, just waitin’ for you.’

‘Please leave; I can’t deal with this right now.  I have… things to think about.’

The Spirit of Jazz let out a bark of laughter.  ‘Ha!  Sure that’s what you gots t’do.  I’ll leave, sugar, but you ain’t seen the last o’ me; you sure’s hell ain’t.’

There was a sound like the last, futile flicker of a dying candle, and when Howard turned over in his bed, the Spirit of Jazz was gone.  He couldn’t sleep though, not even now, in the warm, comforting emptiness of his room.  Howard knew it was true, what he’d said, and inside his head, the Spirit of Jazz laughed and laughed and laughed.

[blogmarareactions]

Note: Here is the last part for this. FINALLY! I know this has been in my inbox for so long and I started writing this but then I lacked creativity and since then it`s just been stuck in my drafts folder. But now I`m done with it so I hope you enjoy it. Also this bacame a little longer cause I found a really good soundtrack that sparked my creativity :D

BTS version

Short backstory:

You have been together with him for a year soon. Everything seemed fine for so long, he was nice, funny and always seemed to know how to make you smile when you were feeling down. Now however he was different. He was gone untill late, barely talking to you and when you asked him about it he`d answer you with short annoyed statements, almost angry. You had tried talking to him more than once but he wouldn`t listen. This is what made you draw your conclusions and you decided it might be better for him if you dissapeared. So packing a small bag with your most needed belongings you ran away.

Rap Monster

Stress had taken its toll on him lately as his mind was flodded with mission plans and coordinating the meetings and whatnot. And today it`s been even worse. Namjoon wanted nothing more than a hot shower and a few hours of sleep, instead however he found himself destroying the apartment in a fit of rage. He had come home to find a note from you, saying you were sorry for using up his time and apologizing for not being what he wanted. So after taking apart the place he used his contacts to locate you before making his way there. He`d grab you wrist making you look at him before furiously yelling.

“Why the fuck would you do that? Why the fuck would you run away? Are you crazy? Do you know how fucking worried I was?”

When seeing your scared face he`d look defeated, calming down. He wasn`t angry with you at all. It was himself he was angry with really. So in the next sentences he made sure you understood just how much you meant to him. He`d let go of your wrist, instead catching both of your hands his and continuing in a soft but firm voice.

“I can`t loose you. I was a fucking dickhead I know. I was so caught up in my work that I neglected what`s most important in my life. You. Y/n, I am so sorry I did you so wrong. You are not a burden. You are the only thing keeping me sane. Shit, I never beg but if it takes begging for the rest of my life for you to stay then I will. Please y/n. Don`t leave me.”

Jin

The last few months have been a disaster. Things just didn`t play out the way he wanted and it was driving him insane. Today especially. That`s why he decided to get off work earlier. Maybe a quite day at home was what he was lacking. And if he was honest with himself he missed you. His happy thoughts of cuddling and a nice dinner however were thrown completely off board when he stepped into the bedroom to find a suitcase packed on the bed and you trying to close it. Your head would whip around to look at Jin when you heard him ask what you were doing. 

The next few minutes where filled with you explaining your feelings to him while you profoundly apologized for being a burden and not being good enough for him. Jin would be silently listening to you, not because he was being polite but because he didn`t know what to say. He couldn`t believe he made you feel this way and the only thing he wanted right now was to make you feel wanted again. So he did the only thing he came up with. He kissed you. Pouring all of his feelings of shame and longing into it. And as the kiss progressed so did his yearing for you and as you were both laying beside eachother, sweat cascading your bodies and heavy breathing filling the air around you, he said out loud what his actions just now have said for him.

“I love you y/n. Please don`t leave me.”

Suga

Yoongi isn`t someone you play around with. Everybody knew that. But it turned out that there were people who don`t see it as a threat but rather a challenge. Ever since he found out that he had a spy in his group he was on edge. Snapping at everyone and everything. You included. He wasn`t proud of it and he knew he was being too harsh. So when the day finally came that he cought the traitor and dealt with it he set his mind on making it up to you. But he was too late. As he came through the door he knew something was off. He had tried to call you earlier but you hadn`t answered. He had wondered why. Finally finding your letter he got his answer, finding out that his plan of making it up to you came too late. 

He was shocked to find himself calmly sitting in his office rather than trashing the whole place, but he knew this wasn`t the time to throw a fit. He knew you still loved him, or so you said in your letter. The only reason you left was his incompetence to remind you of his love so he just had to show you. And he was determent to make sure you would never question his loyalty and love to you ever again. After having his people drive you back to his office he now stood infront of you. He felt a pang of guilt hit him when he saw how sad you looked as he started talking. 

“My job is important to me and you know that. You also know that this situation I was having was out of the norm and demanded a high level of attention. That being said, I also thought you knew how much I love and care for you. But I understand why you would run away. I have not done my job in giving you the attention you deserve, by that letting you think one hell of fucking aweful things and I cannot apologize enough for it. Fuck. You know I`m bad with words so I`ll just get to the point. I need you y/n. I would never forgive myself if I let you leave like this so stay with me. Please.”

Saying the last sentence he gave you a small black box, inside lay a promise he swore to never break.

J-Hope

You had never seen him like this as he was always the smiley, bright and positive Hobi around you. So drawing your conclusions out of it, you must have become a burden to him. It hurt like hell writing your note to him and even more so to leave your shared flat for the last time. Hoseok didn`t notice any of this as he was currently trying to stay calm at all the stupidity going on around him. This had been going on for a few months now and he was sick and tired of it. When he finally left work he was worn out once again. His tired eyes would scan the flat curiously as he didn`t see nor hear you anywhere. Feeling his heart speed up he found your note on the kitchen table, your apartment key next to it. The next few hours were a blur. The only thing he could remember was a call to his team with the demand to find you and him releasing all of his stress by tearing up the place and screaming his throat soar. Now he was in a car on his way to your location, nervously bouncing one of his legs up and down. 

The moment he saw you through the window, he jumped out of the car running to you and catching you in a tight hug. In this moment nothing around him mattered except for you. As he reluctantly pulled away and locked eyes with you he couldn`t help but tear up, no letting go of all of his feelings.

“You don`t know the fear I felt when I found your note. I.. I can`t loose you. I don`t want to loose you. I`m miserable without you. I am so incredibly sorry. I truly am. I was a horrible partner and I understand if you hate me now but y/n, I love you. I will change. I promise. Just give me a chance. I swear to make you happy. Just... don`t leave me.”

Jimin

His heart broke the second he read the first line of your goodbye letter. All the problems he had thought were crazy important just a few seconds ago were now nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to loosing you. His chest rose and fell quicker at the thought of you sitting here alone with these horrible thoughts of not being good enough gnawing at your mind. Not to mention the constant pushing away and screaming he had done to you. But the thing that bothered him the most was that you didn`t leave him because he was an asshole. You left because you thought you were a burden. This was the point at which he would be sitting on the kitchen floor, your letter still in his hand, as he stared blankly infront of himself. He would need a good hour before he finally got back the courage to get up and find you.

With the help of his people he`d get your locations in the matter of a few minutes, not loosing any time to set out to your location. He didn`t want to let you go around with those thoughts for a single second longer. The moment his eyes would meet your, from crying, bloodshot ones his heart would break a second time. He quickly grabbed your arm and drew you close to him when he saw you trying to run. In his arms you tried to protest, telling him he`d only make it harder for you to leave if he kept holding on.

“Good. Then I`ll never let go. I don`t want you to leave. Never. I know this doesn`t make up for my behavior these last few months in the slightest but I am so so sorry y/n. You only deserve the best but what I did was worse than the worst. I made you believe you were useless and a burden when in reality you are all that I am fighting for every day. I don`t expect you to stay when I let go of you now, but please know that I really, truly love you.”

And holding on to his last straw of hope he let go.

Taehyung

This was the worst day of his life. Not because his million dollar deal had gone to hell. Not because several utterly important files had been stolen from his organization. And not because his right hand man, that he had trused for years, turned out to be a traitor. They were not the reason he was currently driving at an inhuman speed down the streets, his hands sweaty and heart beating so fast he thought it was going to burst. No. The reason for why he was a mess like this was the apologizing letter you had left him on your shared bed. His mind was buzzing with guilt, and quite frankly, anger. Not at you but at himself. He was sure he shouldn`t be driving in this state, but the thought of losing you was too much for him. His mind telling him you`d be where you felt the safest. In the park where you two had first met. More precisely on the bench under the great oak tree where you two had fallen in love. 

And he was right. He found you sitting there, your head in your hands as he could hear your sobs filling the cold air of the night. He`d be careful when approaching you. Any signs of his recklessness from earlier gone as he didn`t want to scare you. He`d hesitantly stand infront of you, your tear filled eyes staring at him as he softly spoke up.

“I knew I`d find you here. You really love this spot don`t you. I do too. After all, this is where I found the love of my life. Someone I thought I would never find. But it seems I have fucked up bad. I didn`t treat you the way I should have and now your head is filled with these... these horrible thoughts that aren`t true. You should be mad at me. Yell at me for being the dick that I am, butinstead you are blaming yourself. Y/n, I don`t deserve you in any way. I never have. And if leaving me will make you happy I won`t stop you. But if you still love me, like I love you, please... don`t go. Let me make it up to you and show you how important you are to me.”

Jungkook

If he thought he was beaten down already from his day, now he was truly broken. This situation was completely overwhelming him and he didn`t know what else to do than angrily walk up and down the living room. His hands, no, his whole body shaking in what he could only describe as rage and sadness. He was trying not to cry but failed miserable at it as he noticed wet trails on his cheeks. He had found the note you left him and had immediatley tried calling you only to hear the sound of your ringtone in the livingroom where you left your phone. Now he was only waiting for his men to bring you back. 

What the fuck could take them so long? He was waiting for over an hour already and his patience was wearing thin. That`s where the door would open and you`d step into the apartment. Right on time, he was sure he would`ve gone crazy had it been just a few minutes longer. You couldn`t even say a word when you were suddenly enveloped in a hug, his head tightly pressed into the nook of your neck and his arms having a grip on you as if he was afraid you`d crumcle beneath his hands. And as he felt you hugging him back he let go of everything he had failed to say to you.

“I love you so much y/n. I love you. I don`t even know where to begin to tell you how sorry I am for making you think I wouldn`t love you anymore and that you are a burden. You are anything but useless to me. You are all that I am waking up in the morning for. I made a horrible mistake at not taking care of you when you were feelings this way and I apologize for it. If you still love me, I`d like you to stay here with me. I swear to take better care of you from now on. Whatever you want me to do, I will do it if it makes you stay.” 

[machihunnicutt]

Fic-vember Day 15

4 times Evan held Connor’s hand and 1 time Connor held Evan’s 

1.

“The ceremony is going to start soon.” Evan stared down at his too small dress shoes and tried to keep the nervousness out of his voice. He felt like a lampshade in his graduation gown, and the cap was lopsided on his head. He didn’t want to push Connor but he also wanted to have enough time to find his seat and avoid the humiliation and inconvenience of stumbling in late. “Are you okay?” He asked his friend, who was still hunched on the concrete, purple robe pooling around him.

Connor looked up and Evan could see the flames in his eyes. It reminded of the first time they’d met, back before Evan knew that Connor used anger to deflect pain, and that he was gentler if you gave him time and space and met him where he was. Back then Connor had made his palms sweat and his shoulders tense up in preparation for a blow. 

“I don’t want to walk across that stage with a bunch of assholes who call me a freak,” he said sourly. His expression softened a fraction. “Or call you a freak. I hate that more.”

“I’ll be there,” Evan said after a moment. He was sure they were the only people not in the gym. Soon the principal (whose name Evan had never learned) would be giving an introduction speech and Alana would be honored as the valedictorian and they’d all walk across the stage pretending that it meant nothing but feeling it, just as they took their diplomas. It didn’t mean nothing. Evan was still scared about what came next. He was scared Connor would forget about him as he went to college and Evan spent his gap year nervously directing customers at Pottery Barn. He worried that he’d always be two steps behind. He worried that he’d step off the stage and fall flat on his face. “Please,” he said.

Evan reached out his hand and Connor looked up at it. He lifted his own hand haltingly, and stopped right before Evan bridged the gap and held on tight. He pulled him up and didn’t let go until they had to separate and take their assigned seats.

Connor didn’t look angry any more. And when he crossed the stage his eyes found Evan’s in the crowd. He smiled. And Evan smiled back.

2.

Connor Murphy didn’t think he deserved to be this lucky. He was meeting Ev for a walk around the park and then French studying session (as Connor had fulfilled his language requirement with a semi-decent grade and Evan was rusty after a year of no French practice.) When he woke up and pulled back the curtain he had to blink several times in the brightness before he could see the snow. It was just beginning to fall, some sticking to the grass in soft clumps that dissipated when the wind blew too hard. Connor got up and rooted around in his closet until he found the hat Evan had knit him a few months ago. Back then he’d been disappointed he couldn’t start wearing it immediately. The heavy navy knit and lopsided pom-pom that adorned the hat were too good to pass up. Today though, would be the perfect day to unveil it.

When he found Evan he had his head tilted back to look up at the highest branches of an old, snow dusted oak. His face was flushed pink and his scarf was tucked carelessly around him in a way that made Connor ache to readjust it and assess whether or not he was sufficiently warm. When he noticed Connor his face lit up and Connor had to look down at the frozen ground to maintain his composure because it was entirely unfair for Evan Hansen to look at him like he was worth more than he was. 

“Th-the hat looks g-good,” Evan said, smile wide and anxious as it always was. “Are you ready to go?”

Connor nodded, and without an ounce of hesitation Evan took his hand in his and held on. He could feel the warmth of his palm through his glove and gritted his teeth to keep from laughing or turning around to see if there was someone behind him who Evan had really meant to offer this affection to. But he didn’t. Today, at least, he was just lucky.

3.

“Don’t make it harder than it should be Evan,” Jared said, exasperated, but not in a way that made Evan panic anymore. “Murphy’s a giant sap too. The two of you are going to be just fine.”

Evan held the phone to his ear like it was some sort of security blanket and looked down at the chicken scratch draft of things to say that he’d compiled already. Most of it was scratched out:

Connor I like you a lot and like more than a friend, not that just being your friend would be a bad thing I love  your friendship means a lot to me and I don’t want my love for romantic feelings for you to hurt what we have. I just want to tell you in case you feel the same way because my therapist always says it’s important to be honest about how you’re feeling and I

It was mostly incoherent and Connor was coming over in 15 minutes. Maybe he could just put it off again. Maybe they could just watch movies and make brownies and not talk about it for a little bit longer.

“I have to go Jared. But thanks.”

“Hey Ev,” Jared said with intent. “Good luck. It’s going to be fine.”

When the doorbell rang Evan jumped. He nearly tripped in the short distance from the living room to the front door and was immediately speechless when he opened the door and saw his best friend standing there. It didn’t matter how many times he came over, every time Evan would be surprised and happy beyond belief that he was visitng (in converse, long hair smoothed messily away from his forehead, dark wardrobe blending in with the night.) 

He still didn’t know what to say but he couldn’t help himself. He reached out for Connor’s hand and pulled him inside gently. He was acutely aware of the way his palm was sweating. He was acutely aware that if Connor’s fingers brushed his wrist he’d be able to tell how rapidly his heart was pounding. But it didn’t matter. Everything was going to be fine.

4.

The best times Evan held his hand (not that all the times weren’t great) were when it seemed like he’d never let go. He’d laced his fingers in Connor’s before they went though a haunted house at the fair once and Connor was sure that they’d stay linked like that forever. Or when he was sleepy and lost in the pale blue comforter and found Connor’s hand just so he could keep him from getting up and starting the day. It was nice to have quiet gestures like this. It was nice to be tactile and soft and have no one tell you that you shouldn’t. 

That wasn’t to say everything was easy. Sometimes Connor’s hands wanted to punch drywall or crush beer cans until the world tilted and pounded out of shape. Sometimes he yelled and felt guilty or cried and said things he didn’t mean. 

And these times, when Connor Murphy was at his worst (since the mess that was high school), Evan would be patient and his voice wouldn’t shake. He’d take both of Connor’s hands (too big to properly cup in his but perfect they way they were), and he’d know that they’d be okay. It was hard to learn to love yourself, Evan would say. It was a mantra they shared. It was hard but they were doing it.

+1

“How do you want your eggs Con?” They were in the commercial break for Sunday morning cartoons. Connor was writing an English paper on the couch.

“Over easy, or over hard if you can’t swing it!” he called back, smirking at the challenge he’d just leveled.

“D-don’t test me Murphy,” Evan replied, then a moment later: “Shit!” Connor heard a mild banging sound and was on his feet in an instant.

“You okay?” He slid into the kitchen with his socked feet to see Evan hunched over the sink, water running over his thumb.

“I’m fine, just burned myself,” he muttered. The eggs in the pan were becoming a wreckage so Connor turned the burner off.

Wordlessly he took Evan’s hands from the water and pulled them toward him. He kissed the angry red of the burn gently and found Evan’s eyes. They were watery, probably from the pain, but he didn’t say anything.

“Better?”

“Better.”