#I don't want my fics to blow up I just want to feel more seen because some of the shit I produce is pretty decent actually

[kasagia]

Mastermind

Pairing: Benny Cross x fem!rich! reader Summary: Benny sees you at one of the car picnics the Vandals have invited themselves to. You catch his attention immediately. When his eyes land on you, he knows that nothing ia gonna stop him from getting you. Unfortunately, you're with some rich bastard. Luckily, Benny is a mastermind. And he won't stop untill you will be his. Taglist for Benny: @aleemendoza2425-blog My mumbling: To be honest, I don't know what it is, I just had this idea in my head and this fic took on a life of its own. Benny Cross' Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

"Who is this girl?" Benny nods in your direction. You eye one of the more decent cars, glancing every few moments at the Vandals’ abandoned bikes a few feet away.

But your gaze isn't full of disgust or fear. No. It's pure curiosity, excitement, a yearning for the thrill of danger. And who is Benny to ignore the call of such a beautiful girl?

At first, at a very first glance, he was simply interested in you. You were beautiful, dressed in expensive clothes, out of his league, but Benny liked a challenge and the thrill of the chase.

But when he saw you save one of the Vandals' kids from being hit by a moving car and calm the kid down, entertaining him without a shadow of aversion to the bikers' kid, until he forgot about it and went back to his parents, something in Benny clicked. No one else saw it but him. But that's the moment Benny knew you were going to be his wife.

"Don't even think about it, boy. Princess of Chicago. Her father sleeps on the cash register, it's a miracle she's even here and hangs out with commoners like us." Johnny pats him on the back, laughing. But Benny's got a plan. And he'll stick to it until he gets you.

"I asked for a name." Benny replies calmly, still glaring at you even after some stupid rich spoiled kid who spat at Vandal earlier walks up to you and wraps his arm around your waist. Benny wants to rip the man's hand off of him for that desecration of you.

"Y/N Y/L/N. The apple of her father's jewelry company's eye. Future heiress to the fortune and out of your reach, boy." Benny nods at this information, still watching you.

"You know what they say... Strategy sets the scene for the tale."

He lights a cigarette and sees you pointing at a beautiful black Triumph Fury from England. Benny doesn't say it's the best choice, but he's seen worse cars. You had... quite good taste.

His blood boils when your stupid boyfriend snaps something at you, but instead of listening to his shit, you just walk away from him and leave him alone by the cars.

Benny giggled a little.

You lean against one of the trees and reach for a cigarette. Your flame in the lighter fortunately refuses to obey. Benny sees his chance.

In a few quick steps he's in front of you while you're still struggling with the lighter. You lift your head at him and Benny swears his heart stops for a moment as your eyes finally land on him.

He watches your face carefully, inhales the scent of your sweet and probably expensive perfume as he carefully raises the lighter with the flame to your lips painted with a sinful red lipstick and lights a cigarette for you without a word as you stare at him in amazement. Benny tenses his muscles just a little to look better in front of you.

"Thanks." You mumble and grab a cigarette in your hands. You lean against the tree and exhale, calming down from the nicotine smoke and not caring about his presence.

"No problem." Benny nods and leans silently against the tree next to yours.

He refrains from looking at you and instead looks at the bikes in front of you. He barely suppresses a smirk as he feels your piercing gaze on him.

"What are you?" You ask him, looking him up and down carefully.

Benny shrugs and taps his Vandal pin on his chest a few times with his index finger. You roll your eyes at him and blow smoke from your red lips, making Benny want to inhale the cloud you exhale.

He was so lost...

"What do you want?" You ask him angrily, assuming that lighting you a cigarette wasn't a selfless act. Because it wasn't. Benny had his purpose in doing it. But you didn't need to know that yet.

"Nothing." He shrugs and lets go of the cigarette, holding it between his lips as he shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looks at you the way you look at him.

"Then why are you standing here?"

"And why are you standing here, sweetheart?" He answers your question with one of his own. You frown, and Benny smiles softly to himself at how adorable you look all irritated and wrinkled.

"I have a boyfriend." You respond coldly. Benny, however, is not put off by this. He just throws one contemptuous glance at the loser who is your boyfriend and goes back to looking at you.

"And I have a bike." You snort at his words before you can stop yourself, and when Benny hears your soft giggle, his heart skips a beat.

A smirk tugs at his lips, adrenaline pumping through his veins from the excitement of making you laugh as he watches you intently, as if trying to memorize the exact image of you.

"Oh, I've seen." You mumble dismissively, but Benny sees your gaze fall on HIS bike.

The mere fact that you know which one belongs to Benny makes you unconsciously show him that you are at least the slightest bit interested in him. And that is exactly what Benny needs for now.

"Like it?" He asks, approaching you. He leans against the same tree as you, his bare shoulder brushing yours.

Goosebumps rise on your skin and you try to hide your reaction to his proximity by casually throwing your cigarette to the ground without looking at Benny.

"Did you steal that Harley?" Benny gives you a mischievous, mysterious smirk at your accusation.

He takes another step towards you and stops right in front of you. He's clearly invading your personal space, but he's far enough away to leave millimetres between your bodies. Your scent intoxicates him, and the heat of your body calls to Benny like a siren's song to sailors. And how much he wanted to be devoured by you...

"Who said it is an origianl one, little shrew?" You swallow and look away from him to analyse his bike again.

Benny can see the gears in your head turning, the way you squint as you try to find the difference between his bike and the original. And god, Benny is only a man, of course he took advantage of your moment of inattention and checked you out. Especially the valley between your breasts...

"Wait... you made it? On your own?" You ask impressed and he simply nods.

Unfortunately, you don't get to talk any longer. Your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend walks up to the two of you and, ignoring Benny completely, tells you that you have to go back to some stupid family dinner.

I can see in your eyes that if it were up to you, you would stay longer, but you're reluctant to leave Benny's side and follow your boyfriend.

"If you ever want a real ride, look for Benny!" He shouts after you. Out of the corner of his eye he sees you turn around but he's not looking at you anymore.

He goes to his bike and starts it with a loud roar. He adjusts the side mirror to get a good view of you and does a few of his signature stunts before he drives off.

He smiles to himself, realizing you've been watching him the whole time. The bait worked.

"Holly shit." You mumble to yourself as you stand on the side of the highway.

You sigh as you get out of your car, wondering how the hell you're supposed to get to the city now that your boyfriend's tires are flat. He's fuming, cursing at the car while you calmly smoke a cigarette sitting on the trunk of a broken-down car.

"Why aren't you doing anything?! Do something! I'm not pushing this into town. Take off that sweater and try to hitchhike." Your boyfriend yells at you angrily. You raise an eyebrow at him and continue smoking calmly, refraining from punching him in the nose. Just then you hear the loud roar of an engine.

You turn your head and see the same Vandal from the car picnic. You look at each other for a moment, intently, your boyfriend stares at you in surprise but you don't pay much attention to him anymore.

"I would use that ride now." You tell him and throw the cigarette on the road. Your boyfriend shouts something at you but you completely ignore him, staring at the Vandal in front of you.

"I thought you had a boyfriend." He says, sending you his mischievous glare. You shake your head with a small smile.

"Not anymore." You say while looking at your now ex-boyfriend.

"What the hell, Y/N?! You're really going to go with that outcast and leave me here? I'm the hottest catch in town, and you know it damn well!"

"No, no, no. I AM the hottest catch in town, honey." You correct him and grab your bag from his car. You walk over to Benny's bike and sit behind it, rolling your dress up to your thighs so as not to give anyone a show. "Have fun with your ego. God knows you two will be just fine pushing this junk through. You could always drop your pants and try to catch some desperate old lady to give you a ride. Although with your calibre it'll sooner be some guy." You wave at him as Benny gasps his bike and accelerates with a screech of tires, leaving your ex far behind.

You scream and grab the biker by his jacket, unprepared for such a fast ride. You dig your nails into his muscular torso and cling to his back, riding a bike for the first time.

Benny is in heaven. Your perfume is carried by the wind, making the ride on his bike even more enjoyable.

You press your front against his back, so he can feel every delicious curve of yours. And the way you dig your fingers into him makes his mind wander to other situations you could be doing this in. And this, surprisingly, seems much more enjoyable than riding his bike completely alone.

You rest your cheek against his back and gaze at the scenery around you. Benny is racing so fast you can barely see anything but him, your heart is beating wildly and a strange feeling of excitement inside you makes you wish he would never make it to town, but would just race you through the cornfields.

At some point, however, your ride ends. Benny parks outside the Vandals' bar and waits patiently for you to get off his bike and let him go. Although he is not at all pleased that your hands are leaving his body.

"Thanks. If not you, I would stick with that asshole." You say, and he leans against the wall of the building. He slides you one of his cigarettes, but you shake your head and take yours out of your purse. "How much do I own you?" Benny frowns at your question and stares at you as you wait for his answer, already looking for the money for him.

"I don't want your dad's money." He surprises you again. You stop all your movements and blink a few times, almost dropping the cigarette from between your lips.

"But... for gasoline..."

Benny simply shrugs as you continue to process the fact that he really doesn't want anything from you. There had to be some hidden meaning to it. There always was. Everyone wanted something from you, there was no selflessness in hanging out with you. It shouldn't be any different with this Vandal.

"My bike, my petrol."

"You drove me halfway across town and off the fucking highway. That's a lot of petrol. I insist." You say, practically shoving the money into his pocket. But Benny pulls away and grabs your wrist, before you can pay him for this little ride.

You swallow as his thumb lazily strokes your skin, bypassing the gold bracelets on your wrists to caress your skin instead of the expensive metal.

"If you care so much, you can buy me a drink, little shrew, because I won't take any money from you." Benny mumbles hoarsely and reluctantly lets go of your wrist. Before you can respond, he's already heading to the bar.

With no other option, you sigh and follow the Vandal to the bar. You try to avoid the ripped, fat men and follow Benny like a shadow, hoping that none of them will bother you.

The atmosphere of the club is thick, you can almost feel the cloud of testosterone in the air, piercing through the smell of cigarettes and strong alcohol. A real den. You've never been in a place like this. And with man like him.

"Two beers." Benny nods at the bartender. He hands you both your drinks and you quickly put your money on the table. Benny puts his arm around yours and, holding your drinks in both hands, leads you to a less crowded part of the club.

Benny's arm around yours makes you feel a little safer and more comfortable in the sea of ​​tattooed men. Some whistle at the two of you but you follow Benny's example and ignore them, trying to focus on the man who was leading you.

Benny was different from most guys you knew. Most of them couldn't change a tire on their own car, hadn't dirty their hands with hard work, and basked in their families' fortunes.

Benny was the definition of masculinity, danger, and self-sufficiency. He was something new, exciting, titillating. Every good little rich girl's wet dream. And maybe if you were younger and more naive, you would have fallen into his arms and let him destroy you completely to his own liking. But you knew all too well how guys like him behaved. And even though Benny drew you like a moth to a flame, you preferred to keep your distance from him and any trouble he could bring. Or at least you tried hard to.

"Why are you doing this?" You ask him, getting straight to the point as you sit down at the table.

"Doing what?" He asks, sipping his beer. He looks at you like you're the only interesting thing in the world. And as much as his intense gaze sends a pleasant tingle through you, you're afraid you won't be able to resist him for long.

"This. Don't look at me like this." You say, swallowing hard. Goosebumps rise on your skin as Benny pulls his chair closer to yours, leaving only a mere centimetres between you and you can smell his scent mixed with grease, cigarettes, and the wind from the fast ride.

"Like that?" He asks innocently, resting his hands on the back of the chair and flexing his muscles.

He sips his beer, wrapping his full lips around the neck of the bottle and his gaze never leaving yours for a second. You clench your thighs and shift in your chair, embarrassed by the effect he has on you.

"Benny! Will you introduce me to your company?" With a small sigh of relief, you turn to the man who interrupted you. Benny is slouched and sulking in his chair, furious at Johnny for interrupting him when everything was going his way.

"Johnny. Club leader. Y/N. My girlfriend."

"I am not your girlfriend." You snap at him, turning your angry gaze at him. And that bastard just smiles sweetly and shrugs.

"I'm sorry. My little shrew." He corrects himself with a sly smile. You narrow your eyes at him, wanting to punch him in that smug face of his, but then his Johnny starts talking to you.

You sit in the club for a moment longer and then go to their phone to call someone from your residence to come pick you up. Once you have all the details sorted out, you don't go back to the table, you just run straight for the exit.

Unfortunately for you, Benny is very attentive.

"Stop, kid." Johnny says and gently pushes Benny into a chair. "She's not the girl for you. Better let her go and forget about it. Girls like her don't fit in with people like us."

"The first time that I saw her, I knew I wanted her badly. Nobody will stop me, Johnny. Not even her. I've already made up my mind. The dominoes cascading in the line." Benny answers confidently and runs after you.

He leaves the bar and looks around. He sees you walking far down the street, turning a corner out of his field of vision. He gets on his bike and starts it faster than ever and follows in your footsteps.

He was so close to making you care even a little as much as he did, and he wasn't going to stop now that he had you practically within reach. Benny knew that if he let you go now, all his efforts would be for nothing. And he wasn't going to start from scratch with you. His engine roars furiously beneath him as he chases after you. He smiles to himself when he sees you waiting outside one of your father's stores and pulls up to you. He stops right in front of you and doesn't turn off his engine. He doesn't look at you, just ahead on the road, waiting for your next move.

Benny hopes he doesn't show how stressed he is about what you're about to do, how impatiently he waits in the cold, deafening silence.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" You ask him, shoving your hands into your pockets. Benny sees you twitch slightly out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm waiting for you to get in." He replies calmly, taking his hands off the handles of his bike to rest his elbows on his thighs. You raise an eyebrow at him, wrapping your hand around the keys you carry in your pocket. Just in case. After all, you didn’t know that guy.

"I have no intention of doing so." You talk tough. But Benny is just as stubborn, if not more so. He won't let you off the hook that easily.

"Then I'll wait until your driver comes to pick you up and then I'll follow you to your house."

"You are lying. You can't do that. That's fucking stalking. And from what I know, you already have enough problems with the police."

"So you're interested in me after all, princess?" He gives you a dirty, wolfish grin and a wink, making your heart race. You find your reaction very pathetic, but you can't control yourself at all when this ridiculously handsome Vandal is flirting with you and doing things like this. He's a little unsettling, but also very exciting. No guy has ever wanted you as much or shown as much interest in you as this one. "Test me." He challenges you and calmly pulls out a cigarette to light it. The bike beneath him continues to roar furiously as he awaits your decision.

"Why are you doing this?" You ask, narrowing your eyes at him suspiciously. “You don’t want my money, but you follow me around like a lost puppy. What’s your problem, man?”

"You." He mumbles in that sinful raspy voice of his, staring at you as if he was tearing your soul apart. You swallow, trying to avoid his intense gaze.

"And what about me?"

"I fancy you." He shrugs like it’s an obvious thing to state. You stiffen as he dismounts his bike and walks over to you. You take a few steps back, gasping as your bare back hits the brick wall behind you.

"Me?"

"Uh-huh." He purrs and leans toward you. You hold your breath in some strange form of anticipation as you stare at him and wait for his next move.

A shiver runs through you as his fingertips brush your cheek. He caresses your red-hot skin, stands close to you, inhales your scent, and acts as if he's doing nothing out of the ordinary, as if being this close is proper and normal.

"I think about you. Often. When I am on the road. And I wish that you could sit behind me and hold on to me as we both race with the wind."

It's such a trite line. The one he probably fooled a lot of girls with. But God, how can you think logically when he's standing so close to you and telling you things that every girl dreams a guy will tell her?

"You'll take me home or what?" You ask, swallowing, trying to hold on to the last bit of control you have as his hand lazily brushes your jaw, tracing a line along your neck and stopping at your shoulder.

His hand is large. Warm. Rough but comfortable. His fingers dig into you, the cool metal of his rings calming you down a little. But your heart is still beating wildly, wanting to break free and give itself to the man before you. Even though he was a huge pain in the ass.

"Get in, little shrew." He says and nods to his bike. Not trusting your legs too much, you take small steps and carefully place yourself on his bike.

You shiver when he suddenly puts his warm Vandal jacket on you. You accept the cover without looking at him and put it on yourself. You almost moan as his warmth and scent envelop you, and his large, threadbare, grease-smeared jacket suddenly becomes the only one you ever want to wear.

Benny climbs onto his bike. He starts it, the engine humming and shuddering beneath you, but Benny doesn't move yet. You frown, wondering what he's waiting for. You quickly get your cue when he reaches behind your hands and wraps them around his torso. You blush, feeling his abs much better now that he's wearing just a black T-shirt.

"Harder, princess. I'll go fast." That's the only warning you get before he starts the engine. You scream and grab him hard, practically digging your nails into him. And Benny just laughs at it. Or at least that's what you gather from the way he trembles under your hands.

Because of the speed you're going, you arrive at your gate pretty quickly. The security guards stare at you in shock, but only for a moment before they return to their professional demeanor. They let you through, and Benny parks right under the steps to your entrance. You thank God your dad is away on business and won't see you riding Vandal's bike.

You get off your bike and stand there stupidly next to Benny wondering what the hell you're going to do with him now. Will he get bored and ride off? Or will he wait outside your house? Or will he want to come inside?

"Will you ever get the fuck away from me?" You ask him angrily, not knowing what to do.

"Is this what you really want?" Benny asks calmly and lights his cigarette.

You don't answer that. Somehow this Vandal became.. close to you. You don't want him to go anywhere, to leave you alone. Somehow it was exciting to run into him from time to time. But he wanted more...

"I won't date you. My dad would kill me if he saw me with one of you. Or disinherited and thrown out of the house." You tell him right away, hoping that he'll get bored and leave you alone. Because you can't tell him to fuck off anymore. You can't seem to get it out of your throat and sound sincere.

"Then it's a good thing I don't want you to date me." You try to keep a straight face at his words. You nod and turn to go home, probably get drunk and try to forget about those damn striking blue eyes. But then Benny's scream stops you. "You will marry me, princess!"

An involuntary smile forms on your lips, and that familiar, pleasant excitement returns. He really wants to race and play this game with you. Somehow, it seems much more enjoyable than the advances of those rich assholes. This one really tried and put an effort in chasing you.

"Not even in your wildest dreams, biker-boy!" You shout over your shoulder and go to your house.

Benny stands by your door for a moment longer. He finishes his cigarette and watches the lights in your house blink. Once he figures out which window is yours, he smiles at himself and starts his engine.

The real game has begun.

"Oh my God, how romantic!" Your hairdresser squeals above you, glancing over her shoulder every now and then to watch Benny lean against his bike, smoking a cigarette, watching you through the window, waiting for you to finish your hair appointment.

"Rather frustrating." You comment without taking your eyes off your reflection in the mirror as your hairdresser does your hair.

"Honey, do you know how many women come here? And do you know how many men wait of their own free will for them to leave while we finish doing their hair? NONE. And that handsome guy on the bike... get after him before one of us grabs him in our claws."

You roll your eyes at her words and light a cigarette, trying to push down the ugly feeling of jealousy at the thought of some hag riding your Vandal's bike and hugging him from behind like you do.

Not. Fucking. Happening.

"As if I cared." You mumble and let her finish your hair.

You pay her and chat for a while at the cash register when out of the corner of your eye you notice Benny, who is still leaning on his bike and waiting outside the hair salon for you to come out, now talking to some girl.

You say goodbye to your hairdresser and leave. You walk closer to the two of them and your anger flares when you hear the other girl flirting with him.

"So... do you have a girlfriend?"

"I don't know... do I, princess?" Benny shifts his gaze from her to you and raises an eyebrow, smiling stupidly and maliciously when he sees the fury written all over your face.

Without a word, you get on his bike and wait for him to join you. Benny quickly abandons the girl he was talking to earlier and starts the engine.

You dig your fingers into him a little more painfully than usual and press your body against his. You rest your cheek against his back and give the other woman a warning look, marking your territory.

Luckily Benny doesn't see it. He drives ahead with you in the back and only then do you realize your stupidity. You let him take you wherever he wanted just because you had to point out that he was yours. He wasn't yours, but...

"Here we are." He pulls you out of your thoughts. It's only because of him that you realize he took you out of town to one of the infamous Vandal picnics.

Your dad will kill you if he finds out.

You feel a little out of place in your white mini skirt among all the bikers and their women in leatger jackets, but Benny doesn't care that you don't fit in with his company with your Chanel bag.

He takes your hand and pulls you closer to the fire. A few people whistle behind you, and you involuntarily move closer to Benny, seeking safety. Seeing this, he puts his arm around you and pulls you into his side. And you wonder why the hell you're letting him drag you like a rag doll.

Benny sits on a log and waits for you to join him. You decide to sit on his lap since you don't want to get your skirt dirty on the branch of wood.

"Don't think too much about it." You mumble at him and he just smiles evilly, feigning innocence.

"I would never dare."

You spend the evening with the bikers, listening and laughing at their stories, sitting on Benny's lap. A few of them called you Benny's girlfriend and you didn't feel like correcting them. Besides, it would be hard to explain your relationship… you don't know exactly what it is that connects you with the biker.

You think about it as you ride cuddled up to Benny on his bike again. The night air hits the two of you, and you're glad you're wearing Vandal's jacket. You sigh, thinking about how over the past few days he's changed your routine and crept into your life, like a thief taking away bits of your time until you practically spent the whole day with him. And surprisingly, it didn't bother you one bit.

It's only when you stop that you notice that Benny hasn't been driving you home. Instead, you're on the outskirts of town, near a small forest. You breathe in the fresh night air and look at the stars above you.

Benny moves on his bike so you can lean against his chest. He envelops you in the embrace of his strong, tattooed arms and rests his nose against your hair, sighing your scent. You sit there for a moment in blissful silence, listening to each other's breathing and the sounds of nature. You've never known such blissful silence as with Benny.

"You enjoyed today." He states, doesn't ask.

You know him well enough now that you know he's been watching you closely all night, and your every little reaction to his Vandal family. And he was right, you quite liked it. But spending one evening like that, and all of your potential life with Benny, is a big difference. And you don't know if you'll be able to keep up with his crazy life, since you've been accustomed since you were a child to having the best comforts and living in complete safety and control.

"I did." You reply, lazily tracing patterns with your finger on his arm. You almost giggle when you see the hairs on his arms stand up in response to your touch. "But I still won't be your girlfriend."

"And I think I've already told you that I want a wife, not a girlfriend."

"You hardly know me." You adopt a new tactic, trying at all costs to dissuade him from this idea, to prove that you do not belong together at all.

"I know enough to know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. The moment I saw you, I knew I wanted you. And when I get to know you and your character, I realized that we are meant for each other."

The way he looks at you now, his closeness, the warmth, the smell of cigarette smoke and the beer he's been drinking make it hard to think straight. Especially when he's practically opening all his cards to you.

"I hardly know you." You mumble in shock, prepared for the fact that someone might actually care more about you, that someone is chasing you and not your dad's money, that someone wants you and not the privilages of your last name.

"You will have time for getting to know me, princess. Besides... I think you know about me much more than you are willing to admit to yourself."

You swallow hardly. Benny's hand plays with the button on his jacket that you're currently wearing. You sigh as his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you closer to him. His fingers travel under your shirt, and you bite your lip hard, holding back a moan as you feel his cool, long fingers on the heated skin of your stomach.

"My dad will kill you." You mumble in warning, not really paying attention to it yourself now as his roving hand gently caresses the skin of your stomach and brushes teasingly over the material of your bra.

"I'm stronger than you think, little shrew." In proof, he tightens his grip around you. You sigh slightly, biting your tongue hard to keep from moaning his name as his hand cups your clothed breast. "Nothing can stop me… unless you really don't want me." He whispers hoarsely in your ear and presses his lips to your temple.

It is both a warning and a promise. He can leave you alone, but you must reckon with the consequences. You know that a man like him leaves with the first goodbye, with the first sign that he is an undesirable element in your life. But what can you do when he pulls away from you, stops rubbing your breast teasingly, and gets off his bike, depriving you of his warmth and the strong embrace with which he protected you from the outside world? How can you reject him once again?

You have not such strength in yourself. You are already glad that you lasted that long with turning him down and didn't give in to him at the very first meeting, when he came to you and lit up your cigarette.

"I can't just marry you. It hasn't even been a month since we first met." You remind him and yourself, but you feel that along with his hot, intense gaze on you, any remnants of your common sense are melting away.

You want him. No matter who disagrees with it or how people react to it, you feel that you can no longer live without him in your life. He was everything you never had. Freedom, wildness, passion, boundless, sick love that makes you swallow you whole, and you are able to do stupid, irrational things. And you want all of it. Even if you have to sell all your nice things and walk around covered in grease and gasoline like him.

And that was a big declaration coming from a rich, spoiled daddy's little girl like you.

"Sometimes you just see and know. You can't say you don't feel it, princess. You're meant to be mine. You know it." After his words, silence falls between you. You are in a kind of staring contest, since you try to endure his deep look.

You feel that you are slowly losing control, that your life is slipping away in a completely new, unknown direction, and honestly, you do not want to turn back for a moment. But your parents raised a cautious girl.

"We are making a prenuptial agreement." Benny snorts with laughter but nods, obediently agreeing to your terms.

"I've told you before, I want you, not your money, but fine. If that makes you feel safe, fine, we will sign one." You stare at him in deafening silence, unable to believe that this was really happening, that he was really running after you just to have you, to be his. You. Not your parents' money, not the expensive things you could buy him, not the job you could offer him at your father's company. Just you. It's just you.

"You are crazy." You laugh in disbelief. His jacket wraps around you snugly, providing comfort from the cold night wind that ruffles Benny's hair, making you want to run your hand through it yourself and see if it's as soft as it looks.

"You're crazy too. You finally agree." He says with a small smile, and you blush.

You roll your eyes and shift your gaze to the forest beside us. Benny won't be having this. He steps up to you and takes your chin between two fingers, forcing you to look at him again. You swallow, your gaze travelling from his eyes to his plush lips.

"I want a ring. And fancy motorcycle's wedding. With the cans attached to your bike and everything."

"Deal." He whispers back and cups your cheek in his hand. His thumb strokes your skin, his touch searing, igniting a flame of desire so great within you that you wonder how the hell you could have lived without knowing such a feeling.

"And I want to settle down someday and have real house, family and so on."

"Okay." He mumbles and presses a kiss to your other cheek. You sigh shakily, grabbing his bike with all your might to keep from tearfully and desperately digging your fingers into Benny and pulling him closer to you. You're fucking trembling, and the guy hasn't even touched you properly.

"Seriosuly? You are going to do so and agrree just like that?"

"I told you. I want you. I will do everything to have you."

You envy the calmness in his gaze and actions as he lazily presses kisses across your face. Cheek, temple, forehead, nose, other cheek, the edge of your jaw… anywhere but your damn lips.

"You didn't even kiss me yet." You remind him angrily, and Benny can only chuckle deeply at your indignation. He tugs a strand of your hair back and takes a step towards you, standing between your spread legs as you remain on his bike.

"A mistake I intend to fix." He mumbles, and finally, after many years, centuries, enoahs, of waiting, he presses his lips to yours.

You sigh, grabbing him by his shirt and balling the material into a fist, pulling him closer to you. His lips move in such a wonderful way, caressing yours, tasting you intently as if he’s trying to memorize the shape of your mouth, every little gasp at his caresses, and everything about you.

His touch is electric. It fires up every neurone in you, turning you into a whining, needy little mess as his tongue connects with yours in a mad dance. You stop caring about anything in the world, just being as close to him as possible; that's all that matters; all that matters is Benny. You break the kiss only to have him angrily rip his shirt off of him, and you quickly silence any attempts he makes to mock you and your haste by capturing his lips in another bruising kiss as you explored his muscular torso that you've been clinged to so many times while riding his bike.

Your thinking goes out the window when all you can feel and worry about is Benny.

Benny presses you against his bike and deepens the kiss as you moan into his mouth, feeling every muscle of his against your body. He practically rips your shirt and bra off of you, leaving you in nothing but his Vandal's jacket as he trails his kisses from your jaw, neck and collarbone to your chest.

You tangled your hand in his hair, pulling him as close to you as possible, and it made Benny feel like he was in heaven. You wanted him as desperately as he wanted you, and Benny was going to give you exactly what you wanted and needed.

Benny smiles against your silky skin as he leaves his marks on you. He had managed to do exactly what he had planned. And he was extremely happy about it.

And with your soft moan and the clumsy, quick fumbling with the waistband of his pants, he only has one thought on his mind.

Checkmate. Benny couldn't lose.

And now you are only his.

[eviltothecore13]

lots of people in this fandom CLAIM to love Gomez but when someone makes a post with Morticia as "Barbie is everything" and Gomez as "he's just Ken", it gets likes and reblogs

like...isn't that meme essentially saying "he's bland and boring/doesn't do anything interesting/is no good at anything and has nothing special about him, and no-one cares about him that much because he's just some bland generic guy with no personality beyond being a sidekick"?

do the majority of fans genuinely believe Gomez has no personality and no interesting traits?

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ SHE GOT MY HEARTBEAT SKIPPIN' DOWN 16TH AVENUE! ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: he's always so confident and self-assured, but a couple kisses from you and he turns into a mess.

contents: fem!reader. kinda suggestive ending (inumaki's comment). you spend half the fic making out lolll anyways we love flustered gojo he's so precious <3 tagging @rinniessance and @rizsu to see streamer!gojo's latest shenanigans :3

author's note: this one was requested and i rly liked the idea sooo yea. i wrote it. shocking right?! anyways thank u guys for all the streamer!gojo requests, saves me the effort of having to think of plots ꨄ︎

"baby, what time is it?" satoru mumbles against your lips, holding you in place on his lap. the two of you are seated on his plush chair in front of his computer, and you've been kissing like teenagers for the last... hour? or two?

satoru tilts his head in to kiss you again, soft lips gently pressing against yours for the thousandth time. his hands roam over your body, and one rests on your waist while the other reaches around you into your back pocket. his eyes flutter open when he feels your phone, and he turns his head briefly to sneak a glance at the time.

"shit, i gotta start the stream in two minutes," satoru mutters. he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and leans back, azure eyes drinking in your heated cheeks and fluttering eyes. a smug smile slowly grows on his lips as you look away. 

"aw, d'you want more?" he cooes, reaching out and touching the side of your face. satoru gently pushes your face back in his direction, moving his slender fingers to your chin and holding it in place. you're all sweet and flustered in the aftermath of your makeout session, and every time he sees you like this, another part of his heart surrenders itself to you.

you nod bashfully, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you feel satoru's grip on your chin tighten. he pulls you in for another long, minty kiss, and you feel him smile against your lips. his hand moves from your chin to the back of your neck as he hugs you against his chest, which rises and falls in sync with yours.

"you're so cute," he murmurs in between kisses, eyes flickering back and forth from you to the time. "c'mon, honey, we have a minu—"

you cut him off with another kiss, which catches him off guard—usually he's the one leaning in. but no, you had to take him by surprise and throw him off his game. the little hm? that slips out of his lips when you kiss him causes satoru to go redder than you've ever seen him. 

seeing satoru embarrassed is rare—he's so cocky and confident that embarrassment is basically unheard of, but in this moment, you've got him. he laughs nervously when you pull away, wide eyes looking everywhere but at you and your cheeky smile.

you reach up and grab his chin, tugging it in your direction the same way he did earlier. "you know exactly what you're doing," satoru mumbles, pulling you closer and burying his face into your neck. 

"i have no idea what you're talking about," you reply smugly, kissing the side of his face. "don't you have a stream to be starting soon?"

satoru looks up instantly and groans when he sees the time—it's a minute past his start time, and that could cost him a couple hundred viewers. you laugh as you hop off his lap and into his bed, curling up under his sheets as you watch him scramble to start the live. 

"love you, 'toru," you call, wrapping your arms around one of his pillows. 

after a second, he turns around, a loading sign on his screen. "love you too, baby," satoru replies, face still noticably red. you blow him a kiss and watch as he pretends to faint in an attempt to hide his childish grin.

a soft ding then signals him that he's about to be live, so satoru spins his chair around to face his computer. he forces his usual collected smile onto his face and starts, "hey, everyone. sorry for the delay, just got... held up with something."

inumaki: u look like a tomato LMAO

yuuji-itadori: yea ur really red, are u ok?

satoru looks away, mumbling something about how it's just the lighting that's making his face look red. naturally, everyone disagrees and starts speculating as to why he seems off his game today, and eventually, someone gets it.

megumi-fushiguro: he always looks like that everytime he sees his gf wdym

inumaki: WAIT THATS IT

inumaki: he was def doin unspeakable things with his gf just two seconds ago. trust

you can't suppress the small laugh that escapes your lips when satoru stumbles over his words at the comments, face redder than ever. "a-anyways, today i'm gonna— hold on," he cuts himself off by looking down at his phone, where a text notification from you had popped up.

love of my life: ur so cute :(

love of my life: but get ur shit together 

love of my life: im the only one who gets to see u like that (¬_¬)

[flkwh0re]

Moms Friend

warnings: age gap (reader is 19 and Nat is 39), mommy kink (N), blow job, eating out, fingering, p in v, dirty talk, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cockwarming, a little bit of jealous Nat. That's all!!

Summary: You come home for a bit, and your moms best friend finally makes her move in you.

A/n: This is my first fic i’m posting here!! I apologize if it’s not great!

You had just pulled into the driveway of your childhood home. A few weeks ago you had planned to surprise your mom and come home. Grabbing your bags from the trunk, you walk to the door knocking. You hear your mother shout something incoherent.

"Oh Детка you're home!" Pulling you into a big hug, you catch a glance of your young brothers inside. They see you too running to the door. "Y/n you're home!!" You smile as Billy and Tommy pull you into a big hug.

Vision, your father, steps out into the hall. His smile fades as he sees you. Your relationship with your father is not the greatest, but with your mother it's amazing. Wanda had treated you better than any other mom you could've asked for, her best friend Natasha as well.

It then dawned on you that you haven't seen Natasha in while, so you figured maybe invite her over or ask her if she'd like to plan something. You pulled out your phone, searching for her contact.

After texting her, it was only a matter of time before she answered. You both decided you'd come to her place for lunch while you're mother and father were at work and your brothers at school.

"Y/n honey, tell me how school has been." Wanda asked with a smile. "Just like always, I'm top of most of my classes." You look at her, a proud smile plastered on her face. "Well isn't that just amazing, Vision." She ask him. He returns nothing but a nod, causing a small frown to creep onto your face.

"Oh, mom I'll be having lunch over at Natasha's tomorrow!" You say excitedly. "That's great! She's been asking so much about you, and I just don't know the answer to everything. My girl is a busy girl." She smiled.

Your evening consisted of catching up with your mom, listening to your brothers and all the things you've missed, and your father ignoring that you were even there. You honestly don't know why your mom is still with him, but you know it's probably for the best.

-

The next day arrives soon, and you're on your way to Natasha's house. Your nerves creep. You love Natasha, but there's always been this feeling towards her. A yearning for her. You know you can't act on it, because it's nothing but a silly childhood crush thought something tells you it's more.

You pull into her driveway, the front of her house being decorated with cute fall decor.

Stepping out of your car, the cold air hits your face only making your shivering nervous body worse.

You knock on her door, waiting a few seconds to hear for footsteps. Then you hear them, and Natasha telling you to give her a second. "Y/n!! Gosh I've missed you." She pulls you into a hug, kissing your forehead softly.

She pulls you inside, and quickly helps you remove your coat. Her eagerness to see you makes you smile wide, and laugh. Oh how you've missed her. Nothing or anyone, even your own mother, compares to how Natasha makes you feel.

You catch up with her on everything, while eating the food she prepared. You were interrupted by your friend Kate blowing up your phone with text then a call. "Hold on Nat, let me get this."

"Y/n I am going to hurt you!" She shouts into the phone, "Why the fuck didn't you tell me you were in town!!" You giggle at her, "Hey don't you fucking laugh at me!" Only causing your laughter to worsen.

Natasha on the other hand was not laughing, more jealous that her time was ruined with you. She hated that she got this way, but she couldn't help it. She tried to stop, you're her best friends daughter. You're also 20 years younger than her. Her thoughts were interrupted by your words.

"Sorry Natty, that was Kate. She wants me to come over as soon as possible." Her face like stone as she replies with, "So you're leaving?" Your nerves taking over again, leaving you silent. You don't wanna leave Natasha, you'd stay there forever with her. "Well not now, but probably soon. I'll make it up though, we can have dinner sometime."

-

Soon, the two weeks of being home quickly passed. You still hadn't made it up to Natasha, so you decided you'd show up to her house.

She opens the door, shocked to your arrival. "Y/n what are you here for?" She asked confused. "Well I never made up time lost with you, so I brought a desert and figured I'd spend some time with you and watch a movie or something." She felt a smile creep onto her face.

You settled down quickly on her couch, her following behind. You had both decided on watching (insert wtv movie).

Time had passed fast, she knew if she didn't act then she'd probably loose her chance. "Y/n come here, sit in my lap." You quickly scurry onto her lap, only to be stopped in your tracks when you notice her hard-on. "You feel that baby? It's all for you." She attaches her lips to your neck, kissing softly.

"Nat, what are you doing? We can't do this." You say nervously. "Says who? You're an adult sweetheart."

Within minutes she has you on your knees, pulling down her boxers. Her dick springs out, your face pulling a shocked look at her size. She brings her hand to your face, guiding your mouth into her length. You bob your head up and down on her. Gagging noises and her moans fill the air.

You bring her to her orgasm, swallowing everything she gave you. "Such a good girl for mommy. Now get up on the couch." You follow her orders and she helps you remove your clothes. Her lips attach to your nipple, while her hand gropes at your other breast.

"How's that baby? Is mommy making you feel good?"She asked in a sultry tone. "So good." She smiles at your weaker state, as she kisses down your stomach. Her mouth reaching your core, and her noise brushes your clit causing your hips to jolt. She attached her mouth to your pussy, sucking and licking.

As she works her tongue, she adds her fingers to the mix stretching you out. Your orgasm crashing in, in full speed.

She stands up, then aligns her tip with your entrance pushing in slowly. Once you've adjusted to her size, she shows no mercy on your pussy. "That feel good baby? Mommy's gonna fill you up. My little bitch to breed." You can't even form a sentence in your fucked out state.

"Aww poor thing is too dumb, can't even form a sentence. Tell mommy you want her to fill you up with her babies." You tried to spit the words out, but it just came out as an incoherent mess and moans. "Cmon baby tell me or else I won't." You still didn't speak, not until she pulled out of you. You gasp and quickly spoke out. "Please mommy fill me up!"

She smirked, then thrusted herself back into you. In only a matter of seconds you could feel her cuming inside you. She continued her thrust, your orgasm quickly washing over.

She placed a soft kiss on your head, then pulled herself out of you. Laying down behind you, she slid her cock back into you. "No mommy! I can't-" she quickly shut down your please. "Don't worry baby, I have you. Mommy just wants to be in you." She kisses your shoulder as you drift off to sleep.

[periprose]

Hi! :)

I’m craving some Logan Howlett angsty fluff and I really like your writing style… Do you think you could maybe do a fic where either Logan and reader are in the heat of the moment and his claws come out and he scratches her. Or where Logan has a nightmare and the same thing happens. Either way the reader ends up comforting him.

Thank you! 🩷 :)

Hi!! So sorry for getting to this so late 🥹 loved the idea btw :) ended up doing a bit of a mix of both? If that makes sense.

/

"Out with it."

Your voice rings out clearly among the X-Men, the throng of battle no longer around you all. It was a more exhausting battle than you would've thought, but nothing irks you more than knowing that Logan has been apparently thinking of you as someone to play babysitter to. He hadn't trusted you to make your final blow to the enemy, and instead scooped you away to safety before lashing out with his own claws.

Logan clearly has something to say to you, and you want to hear it. You're not going to let him escape again- the way he always does, nonchalantly, refusing to acknowledge how he treats you.

Charles stiffens next to you in the helicarrier. Watching the tension, feeling the palpable heart-wrenching sensation between you and Logan. He doesn't know how you got to this point.

"Listen. Just because you didn't have it doesn't mean you're not a good X-Man-" Logan starts dismissively.

"But I did! I did have it!" You shout back at him, and then inhale carefully. "Nobody told you to rescue me, Logan. If I was about to die, then I was. I wanted that to be on my own terms."

"Don't talk like you're a fucking martyr when you've never had the privilege, kid." Logan's unnecessarily harsh tone has you flinching. "Do you know how many people I've seen die, for no good reason? Do you really want a bunch of Pentagon psychos to be your last memory?"

"Shut up." You shift in your seat, feeling small. "We don't get to choose when we die. Not like you."

Logan becomes visibly angered with that, the little taunt you've made towards his immortality. "That doesn't mean you have to go seek it out, dumbass."

"Oh really? Don't tell me you're getting soft, Logan." You glare at him, and Charles and Jean and Scott look at each other uncertainly. "Just because your life is so long doesn't mean the rest of us have forgotten what it means to be alive."

There's an unspoken, sudden charge in the air, now that you've mentioned what everyone else has the good sense to shut up about- Logan having lived so long and not caring about the consequences of his actions. Logan's eyes narrow until you feel sure that you've pushed him too far this time- he looks more animal than human, more Wolverine than ever- and you feel yourself inching forward, letting the anger of not being understood push you to fighting him- and Charles suddenly raises his hand in protest.

"Please, you two. I'm not sure what has transpired today, but I know you are better than choosing to have a physical altercation on a helicarrier flight." His calm, soothing tone makes you feel a little disappointed in yourself, and you settle back in your seat, refusing to meet his or Jean's glances of concern.

/

All you really wanted was an apology. A "Sorry, I won't do that again." Or even an explanation for why Logan keeps tabs on you all the time, never letting you be a real part of the X-Men, always safely on the sidelines. Were you just too weak?

Should you even be here?

You feel guilty for what you said to him. It's not a bad thing, you know, that Logan doesn't want you to get hurt- it's just that you want to do your job. You're not a kid.

It almost, almost justifies how you treated him, but even you know that was too far. You can't act as if you know Logan's life story- not even Charles or Jean would claim to do that, and they've searched his mind for memories several times.

Like it or not, the man was mysterious. He kept to himself on a lot of things, citing past hurt as his reason why- and you should've respected that.

"Maybe I am weak." You mutter to yourself, wondering why you can't restrain your emotions around Logan.

You're practicing shooting small, psionic blasts towards the target in your room- it's a great way to pass the time when you can't sleep- when you hear a groan, a shudder, an angry, deep growl-

It sounds like Logan. His room is right above yours, and the sounds are definitely coming from there- you hear him yell, and before you can stop yourself, you're bounding up the stairs to the third floor of the X-Mansion, bursting through his room's door with a ready hand, in case you need to fight.

/

Logan watches as you berate him in his dream.

Actually, it's not quite you- it's some venomous, evil, witch wearing your face. You giggle at him- you call him old- you don't take him seriously.

With every taunt, you fire another bright purple blast at him- and for once, his body doesn't heal instantaneously. He is getting old, getting hurt, watching as blood pools out of him. It's agonizingly painful.

He's going to die this time, without making it right with you- he's afraid that you're right about him, that he's a washed up sad old man who can't ever let people in.

"We don't need you anymore, Logan..." The not-you whispers softly, smiling a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, and Logan can't help but believe it.

His self preservation instincts kick in, and he launches forward, snarling, claws out with a sharp snikt sound. He feels that even though he'll regret your death, he'll miss you immensely, it's just one more tally mark to several others.

/

"Logan. Logan!"

You're leaning over Logan's sweaty, clammy body in his bed. You watch as his hands fist in the sheets, and he tosses and turns in agony- you breathe in hesitation, in fear that he's not going to be okay- he grunts suddenly, and you're reminded of how Rogue tells you about his nightmares. They're frequent.

How out of touch could you have been today?

You gently-yet-firmly grab Logan's arm, shaking, and his arms move forward in a self-defense mechanism that seems practiced, as if he's been attacked in his sleep before, and before you can move away, there's a sharp snikt sound, a quick wave of claws, and a searing pain in your side.

It all happens before you can even blink. You fall off to the side, on the floor, writhing in pain. Logan's claws just nicked your side, it's essentially a scratch- but the pain is so much worse than you're expecting, and you fall to the floor again as you try to get up.

You breathe in harshly, holding back a sob, as you feel wet blood pooling through the side of your night dress.

"Jesus Christ." Logan pounces off the bed, waking to blood all over his claws, and he's leaning over your body, as you blink up at him hesitantly. He immediately panics, lifting you up and resting you on his squatted thighs. "Kid! Hey, kid, don't close your eyes-"

"..." You're just barely hanging on, but you listen.

And Logan feels that same sense of shame he felt when he attacked Rogue, when Jean "died", every single time he had accidentally unsheathed his claws towards someone who didn't deserve it.

Doubly so, considering it's like his terrible nightmare has come to life. But you absolutely didn't do anything wrong- he can't believe he was so angry with you.

He calls for help, in a slightly broken tone, and no one seems to be coming.

"Just a scratch." You try, but Logan shakes his head.

"No, no, no." Logan spits out. "How could I- I never meant to-"

"I'm sorry, Logan." You cough, and Logan feels awful that you're apologizing while bleeding out due to his actions. "I shouldn't have said what I said. You're not some unreliable old man who doesn't care..."

You flinch at a sudden, sharp pain, and Logan motions for you to stop talking, but you keep going.

"If anything, you're the opposite. You're there for me. And I'm sorry that I got so... so angry at you for that." You mutter to yourself, not aware of how Logan hangs onto your words. "You're protecting me from making mistakes, and I'm grateful."

"No, kid. You had a point before." Logan interjects, but you shake your head.

"Did I? Or was I being a brat?" You grimace at yourself.

"You did have a point. I was being selfish," Logan shakes his head and then swallows that urge to push you away. "I don't always know how to leave people well enough alone. Sometimes I'm too much."

He hesitates, and then continues on. "Like, I treat you as if you're a nuisance, right? But I always... I always want you next to me. And I know I should just sort my shit out like an adult. But I'm scared."

"Scared?"

"Of what happens. What always happens." Logan sighs in defeat. "I fall in love, and they die. I find my people, and they leave me because I'm such a jackass. There's too much surrounding me that just... ruins everything."

"No, no. I won't leave." You tighten your hand around Logan's, and he, despite wanting to say that you're wounded because of him, believes you. He's so grateful to hear you say it- he had no idea that's what was weighing on him so badly.

He loves you, he knows he does. Logan has never been the best with feelings, but for once, he's glad he was honest.

The first thing Scott sees when he finally makes his way to Logan's room, from all the way across the X-Mansion, is Logan whispering "I'm sorry," and... he thinks (he's not 100% sure), "I love you," to your very forlorn, softly curved-around-him body.

It's a very tender moment, and Scott feels he should leave.

Then Logan presses a firm, shaky kiss on your forehead, and then your lips, and you, with your limited reserve of energy, kiss him back, and then Scott interjects with:

"Hey!...?"

He seems taken aback as you both look at him. "I heard screaming? What is this, some sort of weird cult sacrificial scenario?"

"Logan... had a... nightmare..." You wince, and Scott sees the red on your night gown. "I need... medical attention."

"On it." Scott glances at Logan for permission, and he's currently trying to push all these mushy feelings back into his chest where they belong, and he wants to be there to help you in the clinic, but he's flustered with everything that's happened and he can only hand you to Scott without looking at him.

Scott smirks to himself as he runs you to the clinic of the X-Mansion.

"You and Logan, huh? I knew there was something in that fight today." Scott remarks as you cling to him.

"It's taken an embarrassingly long time for me to figure it out, but yeah." You blush. "Has everyone else...?"

"Jean's been running a bet for the last year." Scott laughs. "She says you both are two sides of the same coin."

You can't help but agree.

[luveline]

Can I request a fic involving a reader with a skin picking disorder, please? I have one that started up around the same time as my anxiety disorder started ramping up, and now my arms are riddled with scars. I've been trying to break the habit for years now, sometimes I do good but sometimes I don't and I'm so self-conscious about it all.

thank you for requesting sweetheart!! fem, 1k

Eddie thinks there may be no better feeling than your hand in his as Eddie lays on your shoulder. You have this thing about your arms where they can get a little sore from picking, so you can’t always let him lean on them. Good thing he takes his super hot babe angel any way you’ll have him. 

“Super what?” you ask. 

“My super hot babe angel,” he says into the top of your shoulder, slouched in the dark, TV burning his eyes. 

“I missed everything you just said,” you murmur apologetically. 

Eddie forces himself to stop laying so heavily against your side and gives you some space. He’s worried he’ll elbow you as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. “I asked if you wanted to go to bed, super babe.” 

“Is that what the rock stars are calling their girlfriends?” you ask. 

“Just me.” He clambers off of the couch with a groan. His hair falls in his eyes and he’s too hot for the weather tonight. “I’m gonna brush my teeth.” 

You’d already done yours. You usually get ready for bed in one process where Eddie drags it out all night; you’re in your pyjamas with spearmint on your tongue already, while Eddie’s groggy and overdressed two hours later. 

You go separate ways for a few minutes, the bed squeaking as you drop yourself in it, while Eddie puts his hair up to wash his face and brush his teeth. He takes his shirt off when he’s done, his jeans next, kicked into a pile by the hamper and ready for tomorrow’s laundry. 

“That’s forward,” you mumble, having made yourself comfortable with his worst pillow, the blanket pulled back on his side of the bed in wait for him. 

He rushes into new pyjama pants, eager to slide into bed beside you, though the sheets are a bit much. You’re still in your long sleeve tee. 

Eddie knows what you’re doing. Most summer nights you wait for him to fall asleep before you take off your shirt, too hot to suffer it but too afraid he’ll see your arms. He has, of course, seen them before. He loves them just as much as any part of you, even if you hate them. 

And he wants to see them to know you aren’t going too far. 

“Shirt off,” he says, fingers on your hip. “Come on, super babe. Too hot for that.” 

“Eddie…”

“Take it off, sweetheart.” 

He wouldn’t talk to you like that if he didn’t know you’d say no if you really couldn’t handle it; he’d never force you to show your insecurities, even if he’s seen them and loved on them before. 

You don’t bother sitting up any more than you need to, peeling off your shirt and shucking it onto the floor, leaving you in your tank top. Lengths of your arms exposed. 

He can see the worst of it quickly. You’ve picked yourself bloody at the crook of your elbow and the scar at your wrist is irritated. Your non-dominant arm takes the brunt of it every time, but besides those two cruel places, the rest of your skin is unharmed. Scarred in places, but healed. 

“Look at that one,” he mumbles, taking your arm, his thumb close but not touching the wound. “Does that hurt?” 

“Not really.” 

“Let me get something. You need a dressing–”

“Eddie, please don’t.” 

Eddie likes smiling. He can be pretty moody, but you bring out the best in him. Even when you’re hurting, he has a smile waiting for you, locked and loaded. He shifts in bed so he can lean over you, weight braces on his elbow, his face in his hand. “What’s worrying you so much?” he asks. 

“Everything.” 

“It’s tough.” He blows a breath at your eyelashes. Your eyes shutter closed. “Babe, it’s really tough, but you don’t have to hide it from me.” 

“It’s weird.” 

“It’s not weird, it’s sad. It’s not nice that you feel so worried you start hurting yourself, but it’s not weird.” He leans down to kiss your furrowed brow, but he doesn’t quite get there, nose smushed to your hairline. “You’re perfect.” 

“M’not perfect.” 

“Yes you are,” he says, cupping your face. His hand is gentle, his kiss less so. He hopes it emphasises his point. 

“Your hair is really tickling me.” 

“I can’t go anywhere, I’m sorry. I have to stay right here,” he says, hand trailing down your chest to weave between your arm and side, and then soundly under your back. He doesn’t want a ring or bracelet to snag on your sore arm. “Give me a hug, super babe. Please.” 

You bring your arms up tentatively behind him. 

“I just wanna know when you’re upset,” he says. 

“Sorry. I don’t really think about it, I just do it.” 

“I know, but… this stuff doesn’t bother me. You don’t have to wait for me to be sleeping before you take your shirt off, you have nothing to hide from me.” 

“It’s so stupid.” 

He hates the shame in your tone. “It’s not stupid. We need to find better ways for you to feel better, that’s all.” His cheek rubs against yours. 

He can rebuke your worries all night, but he doesn’t need to. He shifts onto his side to let you hug his chest with more force, your face in his neck, the cold tip of your nose and your warm lips. “I wanna be pretty like you.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” he asks. 

You hum a yes. 

“Even though I always have at least one zit, and all those weird stretch marks on my shoulders, and my hair’s frizzy every day?” 

“None of that stuff matters,” you say, startled. 

“Exactly. None of this stuff matters.” He finds your arm to feel down to the sore scab on your wrist. “I just need you to tell me about it more often. Okay? Deal?” 

You breathe in the side of his neck. “Okay, handsome. Deal.” 

[aklaustaleteller]

On One Condition

Klaus feels bad for messing up Y/n's exam preparation schedule, so he asks her what it is that he can do to 'earn her forgiveness'. Yet somehow, he manages to put up a condition when she asks him to help her with an art project...

Warnings - none, really. Word Count - 1.4k

So, I was rewriting an old fic when I decided to write a little backstory, i.e. this fic, and I hope you guys like it! I'll be posting part two within the next two days so yay!

Update: You can now read part two here!

She was something else, a feisty one who liked a good chase. And Klaus should've noted that from miles away. But he was too deep in now, and he wasn't going to back down until he had her.

He was waiting outside the school to catch Stefan, have a chat with him and warn him against trying to harm him because telling him off meant telling off the entire group, and Klaus found that lovely.

And he had just caught sight of Stefan when he saw her behind him, her hair bun not so tight as hair stands fell out and framed her face. She was walking with another girl who seemed to be trying profusely to convince Y/n of something -- probably a party if Klaus were to guess but he felt himself tuning in when she walked in a closer range to him.

"I really cannot do it, Vicki. Please try to understand that I'm myself giving exams right now," he heard her say, and then saw as she put her hand on her shoulders. There was softness in her voice that he'd never wished previously to be directed at him.

Bringing her in for a hug, Y/n explained herself again, as if she felt bad for denying whatever it was that Vicky wanted. "I would've helped you out had I not missed out on my preparation earlier. I’ve quite literally been studying the night before for each exam." She smiled, with what emotion Klaus couldn't quite see, but he found it beautiful, nonetheless.

"Why don't you ask Elena? I'm sure that way you'll bump into Jeremy a couple times as well," Y/n grinned, passing the squinting brunette a quick wink before turning back towards the exit with a sigh of relief.

Though it only took a couple steps for her to bump into Klaus, not so accidently. She'd seen him the moment she'd gotten out of the gates, and the fact that she had to pass him in order to reach her car only made her feel... more positive, let’s say.

She hadn't gone out of her way to slam into him, but he had. And the only other thing she has to blame is her spiteful walk that led the one library book she'd borrowed to topple out of her grip.

"Klaus, back off," she gritted, quickly picking up her book and moving once he did.

"It's not my fault, you know, that you bumped into me," Klaus said with a lure in his voice that suggested he just wanted to rile her up. "I'd apologize to me," he shrugged, a lopsided grin pulling up on his face when he noticed her turning.

"I'd tell you to go fuck yourself but that'd be a cruel and unusual punishment," she bit back, pressing her key to unlock the car.

"Please, save your breath. You'd probably need it to blow up your next date," Klaus teased, remembering the night Klaus had crashed her date and scared off the guy by doing nothing, really.

Sighing, Y/n gripped the steering wheel of her car and closed her eyes for a second. "Say something else and this book will become a lethal weapon," her voice was agitated as she warned him, and when he truly backed away with a proud grin on his face, she finally pulled back and drove home, daring to spare him a glance in her rear-view mirrors, an angry blush creeping up her neck when she caught his eyes.

Once she reached home, she didn't bother to lay out her clothes before jumping into her shower. Still, she buttoned up a loose striped cotton shirt and pulled her underwear up her legs. It didn't take her long to just decide on a pair of pyjama shorts.

After a good bowl of salad for lunch, she brought out her schoolwork to just do it on the porch considering the nice weather. But of course, that was a mistake because soon into her immersive study session, she was disturbed by loud clashing noises coming from the house across hers, Elena's house.

Taking a deep breath, she was just getting up when she caught sight of Damon and Stefan inside the house, speeding towards each other. It was purely for the dramatics, she was sure, considering the fact they wouldn't kill each other, they simply didn't have it in them.

She just felt sorry for Elena's dishes, maybe some of her furniture as well.

Twisting the knob she had just pushed the door in to go back inside the house when she heard a voice behind her. "Too noisy, aren't they?"

Klaus.

"You already messed up my preparation schedule once, Klaus. Do not dare to do it again," she said calmly, though her grip on the knob was probably tighter than normal.

With that, she decided to cross the line and enter her home. Then she turned around to face him, but he didn't seem to be in the mood to mess with her either.

"I came here to apologise, and perhaps, make up for the troubles I've caused you," he admitted, looking at her with such sincere eyes that she could've given in right then.

"And how do you plan on doing that? Plus, if this is a joke, I still have that book with me."

"You tell me what it is that will earn me your forgiveness," he said dramatically, making her look down to hide something from him, maybe a smile.

Opening the door wider, she looked at him and then hesitated a little. "Don't make me regret this," she said. "Come in, please."

Klaus was caught a bit off guard but managed to get inside, his eyes wandering right away to take in her house.

"I'm not sure how to word this really, so I'm just going to say it." Taking a breath, she sat on one of the dining table chairs and urged for him to do so too, getting a little flustered when he took the one right by her side and shifted so that he was turned towards her.

"What is it, love?"

"This might be a little ridiculous for you but it's very serious for me," she told him while maintaining eye contact to make sure he understood the situation.

Klaus simply nodded for her to go on, now leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

"I know you paint, quite impressively, might I add but that's not the point here," she quickly shut the topic before Klaus could tease her.

"The point is, I have this art project that I said yes to under pressure because my favourite teacher asked me to. But were you to see even my handwriting, you'd know I'm no good at it. The most I can draw is a stick figure and even that's wonky sometimes," she admitted bashfully.

"I used to have a friend who'd do it for me, but she left town last year and now... I don't really have anyone who would," she let out a breath at that, her eyes closed in anticipation of his answer.

"So, you wish for me to help you out with this said art project?"

Sitting stiffly, she nodded.

"Okay then. I'll do it... but what is it?"

"Oh great!" She cheered; happiness evident on her face. "It's supposed to be this super zoomed in image of either a grapefruit, or a pomegranate."

Klaus leaned back in his chair then, sighing as he considered it. "I will do it on one condition," he proposed.

"And that is?"

"You will stay with me in my studio when I'm painting it," he shrugged, as if it wasn't so much a big deal.

"But were you not doing this for my forgiveness?" She narrowed her eyes, but when he began to get off the chair, she struggled for some answer to come out of her mouth before he could leave.

"Okay, okay! I will!" She agreed immediately, sitting back down in defeat when he remained standing, a smile on his face.

"I'll go now." He said, walking backwards towards the door and he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. He could've teased her about it but decided against it.

"Come by my house tomorrow, around three or four… your wish," he said before turning to open the door.

He turned back to see her reaction and a smile crept up on his mouth when he saw her smiling back at him.

"I will," she told him while waving him goodbye, stopping just before he sped off with his dead heart beating a mile an hour. 

[wonwoonlight]

when he finds out you're sick through the internet

A/N: idol!au. OC is also a celebrity though I don't explicitly say what. tiny teensy angst bc cheol is a worried Boyfriend💔 1.5k words! another random word vomits bc that's the only way i know how to write now lol idk why but everytime i write this kinda fic it's always seungcheol looooooooooooooool. not proofread, but enjoy!

[part 2]

Seungcheol doesn't really get angry.

For the three years you've known him in which you've dated him for two, you've only seen him actually get angry a total number of three times. None of them was directed at you, and all of them are for reasons that you would've exploded upon way before he did.

Seungcheol is patient and rational.

Seungcheol is normally patient and rational.

But he's never normal when it comes to you. And even though the patient bit still stands, nothing about his feelings towards you is ever rational. He's a little too emotional, a little too rash, and a little too worrisome when it comes to your wellbeing.

So when he's relaxing in the practice room during a break with his members, for once not on his phone because he's charging it somewhere on one of the tables, and he hears Seungkwan gasps a little upon his phone, he thinks there's another scandal blowing up upon the industry. But when the younger guy's blown out eyes meet him, colors drained from his face, Seungcheol hates that he knew it could mean one thing: something happened to you.

He shoots up almost immediately, not registering any words that come out of Seungkwan's mouth. His hands shake a little when he unlocks his phone, and his heart drops when he reads the official post from your company's twitter account that states your current condition, that you might need to pause your activities for the time being due to health reasons, apologizes for the worries, and asks for the fans' understanding.

He wants to get angry.

At who, he’s not sure.

At your company, for pushing you even though they know your schedule is practically inhumane? At your manager, for not making sure that you have decent rest in between schedules? At you, because he’s been telling you to fucking stop running towards whatever goal you have in mind but you insist that you know your limit and you’ll know when to stop?

Apparently, no you fucking don’t because else this wouldn’t have happened.

The rest of the members look at him in worry, and Jeonghan silently walks to their manager and the other staff to let them know about the situation at hand, that Seungcheol would probably not be in his best state to continue practice at the moment. The leader would probably insist that they continue anyway, but they’ve practiced for almost five hours already anyway and they could spare an hour or two for the leader when it’s clear that he’s worried beyond measure.

Seungcheol bites his lip as he tries to call you, his concern skyrocketing by the seconds the longer the beeping sound goes, no sign of you picking it up. He tries one more time, but you still don’t answer and he’s about to hurl his phone at the wall when your manager calls him instead, tells him that he sees his name flashing on your phone, informs your whereabouts, and that he should just drop by your place in a few hours if he wants to see you because right now you’re still sleeping in the car and he’s taking you home.

He finds it hard to say anything, a lump growing in his throat until he manages to swallow it down and ask how you’re doing right now.

“She’s… exhausted.” Your manager says quietly. “I know it’s my job to take care of her but… you know her. She didn’t tell me that she’s been having a hard time sleeping at night the past few weeks and it finally took a toll on her.”

It’s hard to suppress his anger, his breath heavier than usual though it’s not too noticeable unless they know Seungcheol. He wants to scream at your manager, but he knows it won’t do anyone any good and it’s really not the time nor the place for that. So he mutters a quiet ‘thank you’ before he hangs up, his members looking at him with a mix of worry and understanding when he looks up at them.

“Go.” Soonyoung says. “We’ve practiced enough today. Take care of your girlfriend and tell us later.”

Seungcheol nods and sprints out of the room, beyond thankful that his members always have his back.

Seungcheol is glaring at you when you wake up, though the way his thumb is still softly caressing your head and the worry in his eyes clearly tell you that his anger is nowhere near his distress. 

You offer him a weak smile, unable to defend yourself because you know what his eyes are scolding you for.

“Sorry?” You whisper and immediately cringe at how dry your throat feels.

He doesn’t say anything as he helps you sit down and hands you your favorite mug. Taking in the moment, you frown at how weak you feel, though you really only have yourself to blame because you genuinely thought you’re okay and you can take it.

You know it’s on you for taking as many schedules as possible, practically everything that your company offers you even when your manager says he doesn’t think it’s physically possible for you to do all that in such a short span.

Thinking about it now, you realize that your manager and the rest of your team also gets the short end of the stick through your decision. Him, your make up team, and your stylists would all need to be with you and your ambition forgets to consider their wellbeing even when you wrongly claim you would be able to handle it.

Guilt starts to eat you inside out, and it grows even larger as you see Seungcheol in front of you–didn’t he say he had practice today?–his face screams distressed and his shoulders tense since God knows when.

“Hey, talk to me.” He says softly when he notices you’ve been spacing out and you’re nibbling on your lip like you would when you’re anxious, taking away your mug before enveloping your hands with his.

You tear up almost immediately, and he moves to sit on the edge of your bed to usher you into his chest, patiently listens to your nonsense as you try to talk through your tears. He gets the gist of it: sorry–manager–company–wellbeing–my team–didn’t think it through–made you worry–overestimated myself–sorry–and the list goes on. He exhales as he hugs you tighter, both understanding and upset at the turns of events.

Being in the same industry, he gets what you’re trying to do, understands that you feel the need to keep on running while you’re able to, relates that you’re doing everything for yourself and your fans. But still, it’s hard not to be upset to know you’re pushing yourself too hard when he’s been telling you there’s no need to run as fast as you are without resting; that you’ll only hurt yourself one way or another and he hates that the one time he needs to be right, it’s this.

You end up laying down against his chest on your bed, hiccups and sniffles filling your bedroom along with a random song he’s humming against your head. You pull away to properly look at him, the first time you’re doing it since you woke up earlier, and his hum stops in question.

“Thank you.” You manage to whisper, your fingers grasping the front of his shirt without even realizing. “For being here when I woke up.”

He shakes his head like he doesn’t understand why you’re thanking him, simply leans down to plant a long, chaste kiss against your forehead before he pulls up your blanket so it’ll cover you properly.

“Just… don’t surprise me like that again, okay?” His breath is warm against your face, pleasantly so, and you nod as you promise him that you’ll take better care of yourself moving forward. 

“Are you staying the night?”

“Yes, I’ll return to the dorm the day after tomorrow. They’ve given me a day off.” You cringe at his words, though thankful that he’s been in the industry long enough to attain that kind of privilege. But still, you feel bad that you’re obstructing his practice and his members just because you’re foolish enough to– “Hey. Stop. I know what you’re thinking. No need to feel bad. I’m actually glad I get to rest with you.”

“But–”

“No buts. The kids can do without me for a day.” He playfully bumps his forehead against yours, his lips hover above yours merely centimeters apart.  He doesn’t meet your lips, though he kisses their corner sweetly and wraps you back into his embrace to the point where there’s no space between you two. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Good night, Cheol.”

“Night, baby.”

“See you in my dream?”

“I’ll see you anywhere you want me to be.”

He hugs you tighter, and you try your best to return the gesture despite the awkward position of your arms. It’s uncomfortable and you’re sure your arms will be sore the next morning.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. Not when you succumb to sleep and find Seungcheol smiling at you on the other side of your dream, as real as he can be.

cont.

[pastryfication]

hii, I don't know if you can and especially if you want to do this fic, but I just finished watching the Wimbledon final (I'm a Carlos Alcaraz girly) and I wanted to ask you if you could make a Leclerc sister! reader x Carlos Alcaraz (with the addition of Charles, Arthur and Lorenzo obviously) if you don't want to write it I apologize for the inconvenience, but if you do I thank you so much🫶🏼💕

(Sorry if My english Is not good, but Is not My native language)

hi! thank you so much for the request 🫶

i tried my best with this but i don’t know much about tennis and i’ve only watched like half the matches of wimbledon this year so i had to make my dad give me a quick break down of the finale… i know this is not as good as you probably expected but i hope you like it either way!!

wimbledon winner | carlos alcaraz

pairing: carlos alcaraz x leclerc sister!reader

warnings: very bad descriptions of tennis?

you can hardly contain your excitement as you guide your family through the bustling crowds of the wimbledon grounds. today is the day your boyfriend is competing in the final against none other than novak djokovic. the atmosphere is electric, and the excitement is palpable.

you had invited your entire family, wanting to share this special moment of your life with them and your brothers, charles and arthur, are just as—if not more—thrilled thrilled than you, though their enthusiasm is more subdued. your oldest brother, lorenzo, and his girlfriend, charlotte, are chatting animatedly, while your mother walks beside you, her eyes wide with awe at the grandeur of it all.

"i stilll can't believe we're here," arthur says, glancing around with a grin. "watching carlos in the final. it's incredible."

"he's going to do great," charles adds, giving you a reassuring smile. "he's worked so hard for this."

"i know," you reply, feeling a surge of pride for your boyfriend. "he's been training non-stop. he deserves this."

as you make your way to your seats, you can't help but feel a rush of nerves. the stadium is enormous, and the crowd's energy is almost overwhelming, but having your family here with you calms you a bit.

you find your seats and settle in, your heart pounding with anticipation. the match begins, and the tension is palpable. djokovic is a formidable opponent, but carlos is playing with a determination you've never seen before.

every point is a battle, and the crowd is on the edge of their seats. you find yourself gripping charles' hand, almost breaking his fingers, but he doesn’t mind. he’s unable to look away from the court as well, finding the match as exciting as you. carlos is moving with such grace and power, each shot more impressive than the last.

"he's incredible," charlotte whispers, her eyes wide with admiration. "i've never seen anyone play like this.”

"he's got this," lorenzo says confidently, sensing your nervousness. "you can see it in his eyes."

as the match progresses, carlos begins to pull ahead. his serves are precise, his volleys unstoppable. the crowd erupts with cheers, and you can't help but join in, your heart swelling with pride.

when the final point is won, and carlos emerges victorious, the stadium explodes with applause. you jump to your feet, tears of joy streaming down your face. your family is cheering just as loudly, their pride evident in their faces.

carlos looks up into the stands, his eyes searching for you. when he sees you, his face lights up with a radiant smile. he lifts his racket in triumph, and you blow him a kiss, your heart just about to burst.

"he did it!" you exclaim, turning to hug your mother. "he really did it!"

"we knew he could," she replies, her voice filled with emotion. "he's an incredible player."

as the celebrations continue, you make your way down to the court. carlos is surrounded by reporters and fans, but when he sees you, he breaks away and runs to you, scooping you up in his arms.

"you were amazing," you say, your voice choked with emotion. "i'm so proud of you."

"i couldn't have done it without you," he replies, his eyes shining with love. "having you here, knowing you were watching . . . it made all the difference."

you kiss him, the world fading away as you lose yourself in the moment.

your family joins you quickly after, and carlos is soon enveloped in hugs and congratulations.

"you were fantastic, mate," charles says, clapping carlos on the back. "absolutely incredible."

"thank you," carlos replies, his smile never wavering. "it means a lot to have you all here."

the rest of the day is a blur of celebrations and happiness. you can hardly believe it's real, that carlos has won the wimbledon final. but as you stand by his side, surrounded by your family, you know that this is just the beginning.

[strwberri-milk]

Hi! How are you? i would like to request about Mc remember her past life, and she goes really overwhelmed about it...to the point that when she sees Rafayel, she gave her a kiss. The first one for them. And obviously he melts for the kiss. Smut

the way you just ended the ask with Smut. reminds me of that video where the guy just goes "Belt" also i didnt feel like going the whole smut route - if you want the smut hoestly, id say you can just look at this bc soft smut hcs are the direction i'd take here <3 maybe one day i'll write a full fledged fic but rn i have my hands full w boothill [pensive]

The dreams you had were slowly getting more and more realistic. You didn't quite understand why or how they were starting to come about but you first brushed them off as just that - dreams. You didn't think that there was anything too serious about them until one day you suddenly get the sense that everything you're dreaming about is somehow real.

Rafayel was on a business trip so unfortunately you couldn't even talk to him about this, struggling with these emotions yourself as you try to sift through them. Somehow, your dreams line up with the things he teases you about and you start to wonder if he knows something or if it's some weird after effect of being reincarnated?? You can't figure it out and you don't want to blow up his phone with your ramblings so you keep it to yourself until he comes home.

He shows up at your door, beginning to tell you about how he wasn't even able to go home because he missed you so much, wanting to see you right now when you look at him with tears in your eyes. He's startled to say the least, panicking a little as he asks you why you're crying when you suddenly grab him, kissing him hard.

He melts into your touch, desperate to feel your touch. He's always wanted you, always wanted to be with you but never thought that you felt the same. He just prayed and hoped that one day you would remember, that he'd be lucky enough to be with you. Even if you don't remember he doesn't mind losing himself in you like this right now, closing the door behind him as you lead him to your bedroom.

He takes you passionately, keeping you on your back and doing his best to make you cry from ecstasy. He repeats over and over how much he loves you with each bucking of his hips, kissing you breathless and telling you he's wanted you from the moment he saw you. He showers you with attention, bringing you to the peak over and over again. He's insatiable, desperate for you to feel good because of him and making up for lost time.

You're exhausted and barely coherent by the time he's done but he holds you so close. You can hear the beating of his heart in your ear, memorising the sound as you remember that it was taken from you before. You confess quietly what you've seen, the things you remember. He holds his breath, looing at you desperately as he asks if you really remember. When you confirm he holds you so tightly, telling you to rest for now and then the two of you can discuss what's next at another time.

[mrsshabana]

Okay I’ve got an idea for you

Soulmate Tattoo AU but Gyutaro never had one as a human and it only develops some time after he became a demon.

𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐮 ♡ 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

꒰୨୧ ・Content Gyutaro x female!reader, canon-ish, soulmate au, fluff, angst ꒰୨୧ ・Note I've been meaning to answer this ask for so long! Honestly I wish I could write an entire fic about this but I had to stop myself. I've always wanted to write for a soulmate au so if you want to see more don't hesitate to ask! ♡ (Also I've never written for a soulmate au before so I'm sorry if I did it wrong)

It all happened so fast.

Just a moment ago you were walking home from the night market. And now you find yourself pinned to the ground in a dark alleyway fighting for your life. Some monster grabbing at you, trying to make you his next meal.

He's unlike anything you've ever seen before, but it doesn't take long for you to deduce that he's a demon. You've only heard people tell stories of them, but you never would have imagined they were real.

His large hand wraps around your mouth so you can't scream.

"Pathetic," he snarls, "Just going to let me kill you without putting up a fight?"

You try to kick and scream but you're powerless against him. His lips curl into a sadistic smile. A deep, hyena-like laugh comes from his throat.

"You're so disgraceful, I almost feel bad for you!"

For a split second, he's too busy antagonizing you to notice that you're wiggling out of his grasp. "Fuck you!" you hiss, kicking his groin and desperately crawling away.

Immediately the demon hunches over and groans in pain, "You... bitch..."

Unfortunately, the blow doesn't do as much damage as it would a human, and he's recovered quicker than you expected. You were only able to get a few feet away before he grabbed your ankle.

"You'll pay for th-" he stops mid-sentence and stares at the spot above your ankle.

An intricate pattern lies there, one that you were born with. It looks like a random splotch of ink at first glance, but when you look closer it resembles the shape of a heart.

The demon gulps audibly, suddenly the entire aura around him shifting. Without an explanation, he gets on one knee and pulls up the hem of his pants to reveal a mark that looks identical to yours.

"You... You're my soulmate," you whisper in disbelief.

The demon's hand begins to tremble as he keeps a firm grip on your ankle. "It-it can't be..."

"P-Please, maybe we-"

"Shut it!" he snaps, his teeth getting dangerously close to your face, "I don't care who you are! You're gonna be my next meal!"

He pulls out a weapon you didn't notice he had. It looks strange, like something you've never seen before.

With a look of amusement on his face, he swipes the blade of the weapon across your throat.

But nothing happens.

"...what?" he frowns and presses the blade harder against your neck. But it won't cut your skin.

It really must be true then. This demon is your soulmate, and lucky for you soulmates can't bring harm to each other.

You always heard about soulmate tattoos and how you were destined to find that special person one day. But a demon? Really? Sure, he's pretty cute but he's still a demon!

However, you're honestly just happy to be alive. At least now you don't have to worry about the demon that lurks around the entertainment district making you his dinner.

Meanwhile, your soulmate stares at you with wide eyes, hurriedly stepping away from you as if he's disgusted by you.

"Wait! Please don't go," you reach out to him, "Maybe we can work something out..."

"Tsk, I want nothing to do with you. I don't need a soulmate," he snarls, looking you up and down one last time before disappearing into the night.

You stay in that spot longer than you should, hoping he would return.

Of course, you know that demons are dangerous, but a part of you can't help but feel some kind of unconditional love for him. He is your soulmate after all.

But after some time passes you give up on love. The demon never comes back so you figure there's no point in even trying to find love in the future. If your destined soulmate doesn't even want you, then why would anyone else?

As weeks pass you go on with your life and try to forget about the demon. You're pretty sure he's long forgotten about you, but you couldn't be further from the truth. He's just been really good at hiding it.

Gyutaro hasn't been able to stop thinking about you ever since that night.

He went his entire life convinced that he was unloveable. But then suddenly this gorgeous human shows up on a silver platter just for him. It was a lot to process in the moment, but as time passed he couldn't help but sprout feelings for you. Especially after he stalked you and got to see how cute you are.

It started with him following your scent around the district, finding out where you lived, stealing your mail to get all of your personal information, and then breaking into your home while you slept.

Sure, maybe it's a bit creepy and weird but he's a demon! He has no morals at this point.

When he was a human, soulmates were the least of his worries. He was too busy scrounging for food and trying to survive to care. There were plenty of marks on his body, but none of them were the mark of a soulmate. The one on his ankle only appeared years after he became a demon. But honestly, the thought that this mark was actually the mark of a soulmate never crossed his mind. He always believed that a soulmate was never in the cards for him.

Normally he would never catch feelings for anyone, let alone a human. But when he met you it was like a switch flipped inside of him and he couldn't help but feel drawn to you.

And now, as he spends more and more time around you he begins to get careless. His feelings start to get stronger and overpower his rational thoughts. This whole time he's told himself that he'll never let you see him and he'll always just admire you when you're asleep. But the urge to touch you starts to get too strong. Oh, what he wouldn't give to feel your skin under his fingertips. To just hold you in his arms if only for a few seconds.

As he stands above your bed, looking down at you as you sleep blissfully unaware, he can't stop himself from crawling into your bed with you. It's like his body moves on its own, all of his anxious and self-hating thoughts get momentarily pushed aside. And all he can think about is you, and how right this feels.

You feel large, firm arms wrap around you - slowly waking you from your slumber. Typically someone would feel terrified to wake up suddenly in the embrace of a stranger. But you already know who this is. Your body knew it was your soulmate before you even opened your eyes.

After all of these weeks, you tried to forget about him but you never could. Ever since that first night you met him you felt like a part of you was missing. And he felt it too.

But now you feel complete with him by your side. And for the first time in his life, he doesn't hate himself. He doesn't feel like a disgusting, ugly, disgraceful waste of space.

He feels loved.

[gyuuberryy]

jealousy jealousy

xavier thorpe x reader x tyler galpin

>summary: xavier has been blowing you off for the new girl at your school and you’re fed up  and jealous of it. somehow things lead to you making out with tyler, the barista at weathervane. oh boy, you really need to sort out your feelings.

>warnings: angst, jealousy, mean!xavier, crying, kissing, slight mentions of food

>word count: 1.4k+

>note: hiii, this is my first fic on this app, i hope you’ll like it. this will have a part 2 as well!

part(2)

__________________________________________________________

ever since wednesday addams had arrived at nevermore, something eventful always happened. appearances of a bloodthirsty monster, creepy rumours about wednesday, the  start of a rivalry between bianca and her. and worst of all, your best friend of six years, xavier thorpe, was obsessed with wednesday.

xavier was too busy following wednesday around like a puppy than to even acknowledge you anymore. recently he had been cancelling your plans at the last moment with sorry excuses, ditching you in lunch, ignoring you for days at a time; to sum it up he was blowing you off like you were nothing but a nuisance to him. 

and it hurt, it hurt so much especially since you had recently developed feelings for him and were planning to ask him out to this year’s RaveN. but now it looked like you would never have chance with him. first bianca, now wednesday. ugh, why was your love life so unfortunate.

you were currently on your way to miss thornhill’s botanical science class and were hoping to be able to finally have a talk with xavier as you were his seatmate. thankfully that hadn’t changed as this was the only class you shared with him. but when you reached there, you were disappointed to see none other than wednesday addams sitting in your place, glaring at xavier as if she was forced to sit with him. a pang of hurt went through your chest as you saw the adoring look xavier gave her. so it had finally happened huh? this was the only thing left to do to completely push you out of his life.he had replaced you after all these years of your friendship. he threw it away like it was nothing. he made it clear he didn’t want you around, so you would do the same now.

you stormed past their table and sat at the back. you noticed xavier look back at you but you just ignored him. soon class started and throughout the class bianca and wednesday bickered, which was amusing. wednesday seemed interesting and you know she was not at fault for what xavier was doing to you, so you had no bad blood with her. although, you couldn’t wait to go to weathervane and get yourself a nice cup of coffee.

after class ended, you immediately gathered all your belongings and walked out when a hand latched around your wrist and pulled you to the side. you looked up to be met with a familiar pair of eyes. “xavier?”

he gave you a timid smile, “yeah.”

you freed your arm from his grip and gave him a stony look, “what do you want?” 

he looked confused at your reaction, “well you’re in a bad mood today, what happened?” you scoffed, “what happened is that i’ve felt this way the entire week. you’ve been constantly ditching and ignoring me all because of your weird obsession with wednesday!”

his face screwed up into an angry expression and his stance turned defensive. “oh so you’re jealous now huh.”

you couldn't believe him, “i’m more hurt than jealous that you would start ignoring your bestfriend for someone you’ve known for a month. i don't mind her, but it would be nice if you spent some time with me as well or invited me to one of your hangouts.” you threw your hands in the air, “you’re acting as if i don’t even exist anymore.”

xavier just scoffed meanly at your words, “you’re not my only friend y/n. don’t be so clingy and get a life.”

tears stung your eyes but you stopped yourself from crying in front of him,you weren’t going to show him that his words affected you. “oh yeah? so all this time you’ve only seen me as a clingy, pitiful person.” you glared at him, “and for your comment, i have a life. now you just won’t be a part of it anymore.” he looked distraught at your words.

“and to think i ever even liked you”, you muttered and walked away. 

__________________________________________________________

the walk to weathervane was as gloomy as that day’s weather. hopefully it didn’t rain till you got back to your dorm.

the bells of the cafe jingled as you entered and the smell of coffee invaded your senses sighing, you trudged towards the counter and rang the bell kept on it. immediately a head full of brown curls peeked out of the storeroom. “oh hey y/n!” 

it was tyler, the sweet and cute barista who worked as a part timer at the cafe. yet, somehow he was always present whenever you came. you gave him a weak smile, “hey tyler, can i get an americano with three shots of espresso.”

his eyes widened, “whoa are you okay? that’s a heavy order, you usually get lattes.” you grimaced, “yeah i’m not exactly feeling too happy today. might as well get something strong.”

he gave you a sweet smile, “then i know exactly what will cheer you up. lemme surprise you with something nice, yeah?” you smiled softly at his concern for you and nodded. 

sliding into your favourite booth, you put your head on the table and tried not to recall today’s events, but no matter what you did, they came crashing back at you. how could xavier say all those things to you? all the times that you had been there for him, in his highs and lows, meant nothing to him. he just found you clingy and anno-

“y/n why are you crying?”, tyler’s worried voice broke you out of your thoughts. you looked up and he gasped at the sight of you. tear streaks went down your face and your eyes were red and swollen. you looked miserable. he sat down next to you and pulled you into a hug. you leaned on his chest and closed your eyes, breathing in his sweet scent. 

“what happened?”, his voice came out muffled in your hair. you sighed deeply, “i had a big fight with xavier and he said some really mean words.” tyler rubbed your back soothingly at that. “it’s alright, that happens in every friendship.” you moved away from his hug, still in his arms and looked at him, “but he’s been blowing me off and doesn’t even talk to me anymore.” you ranted, “and i even had feeli-” you stopped when you noticed how close you were to his face. your eyes wandered shamelessly over his face, admiring the moles on the right side of his face, his brown eyes that looked like freshly brewed coffee. and his pink lips. you wondered what it would be like to kiss him. no stop! what the hell were you thinking about?

right at that moment the bells at the entrance door jingled, signalling that someone had entered, you both looked to see who it was. surprisingly, it was xavier and he seemed to be looking for something, or rather someone. his eyes brightened when they locked with yours. and as his hand raised to give you a wave, you gripped tyler’s collar and crashed your lips on his. his eyes widened at your gesture initially, but then slowly closed and he tightened his grip around your waist to pull you closer. his lips moved against yours with the same urgency you put in.

the kiss was messy and fast and your head was clouded with fury and all you wanted to do was show xavier that you didn’t need him, to make him jealous. you opened your eyes to make eye contact with him and relished at how his face was scrunched up in anger. he turned around and walked out, slamming the door. you pulled away from tyler, both of your lips swollen and wet. you grinned cheekily as a rosy blush dusted tyler’s cheeks.

“so, what does this mean for us?”

your smile dropped at his words. shit, you hadn’t thought about it. your motive was making xavier jealous, but you hadn’t considered tyler’s feelings. sure, he was really attractive and sweet. recently he had been there for you more than xavier had. and that kiss did make your stomach swarm with butterflies, maybe that was just the adrenaline. but what about xavier, it’s not like you can suddenly push away your feelings for him.

you needed time to think things through and you were sure tyler wouldn’t mind.

you looked at him to see him staring at you expectantly. “i need some time to think things through, i’m not really in a good state of mind right now.” you smiled at him guiltily.

he nodded, “of course, take your time.” you smiled at him.

“meet me at the crackstone crypt tomorrow evening.”

[uravichii]

bakugo katsuki vs physical intimacy

genre: fluFFFF and a tad angst (it's literally just katsuki being scared of accidentally blowing you up when he initiates physical affection 🗿)

notes: kind of hate this but hey i finally remembered the headcanon 🧍‍♀️ also is it rly a fic in bakugo's pov if he's not randomly bashing kaminari's whole existence 🤩⁉️⁉️

my number 1 headcanon for bakugo katsuki is that, no matter how amazing and invincible he claims himself to be, is a total loser against physical intimacy.

i mean we've all seen him literally kick the soul out of jirou to protect her when he could literally just,, maybe shove her out of the way? 😭

it's even worse when it's with you, the person who matters the most to him.

he doesn't know how your friends find it so easy to latch onto you like it's nothing. he'd find tsuyu and uraraka linking arms with you in the hallway, ashido draping her arms around you and sweetly resting her chin on your shoulderー god, he wishes he could do the same, and then he sees kaminari shamelessly resting his elbow on your head with that stupid, cocky grin on his face as if he's not in contact with only the most beautiful, godsent being that is you.

meanwhile, bakugo katsuki, your boyfriend, jolts back when your pinky grazes the back of his hand. he retracts it, puts his hand in his pocket and doesn't say a word despite the sharp twist in his chest when he catches the despondent look on your face.

katsuki doesn't let you clasp your hand around his arm like other couples doー he gets way too flustered and has no idea how to hide that. so when you start getting tired of walking and need some kind of a leverage in case your legs give out, he tells you, "don't fall, dumbass. just grab onto my shirt" you comply with a smile.

occasionally, he'd feel the slight tug of his shirt when his pace gets too fast. he looks back, "oi, everything okay?" the whole time there's not a single contact where skin meets skin, and yet inside it makes him giddy all the same.

katsuki can't place a hand on your shoulder and smoothly bring you over to the safer side of the sidewalk. instead, he yanks the strap of your bag until you stumble over to the other side, quickly grabbing your elbow so you don't collapse and end up breaking a bone or two. (he doesn't shy away from touching you if it's to protect you.)

"thanks?" you say, genuinely confused by the chivalrous (?) gesture that literally could've knocked you down on the rough asphalt if it weren't for his quick reflexes.

"you're welcome." he shrugs.

bakugo katsuki finds hugging and hand-holding the scariest.

he tries though, but it's less like holding your hand and more like hovering it over yours. katsuki doesn't underestimate his strength and in turn, his potential to hurt you somehowー that he is deathly afraid of.

a single brush of your skin against his sends a spark across his whole body and has his stupid heart pounding hard in his chest until it hurtsー what more if he has to cradle your perfect, soft and supple hand with his rough and constantly sweaty ones, calloused and marred with scars. do they gross you out? what if he accidentally blows up your hand?

what more if you so badly want to be held by him, and he can't bring himself to refuse you? he has to embrace your smaller frame, press his body onto yoursー fuck, can you feel his heart racing? did you catch the hitch in his breath when you buried your face into his chest? where does he place his hands? is he squeezing your waist too much? is he hurting you?

how does he train himself to be soft and hold you delicately with vile hands that were carved only to be brandished and a body that has only known how to struggle and strike, to launch an attack and then brace for one?

don't get him wrong though, he bakugo katsuki wants to hold you, and he most certainly wants to be held by you.

you slowly loll your head to the side until it comes in contact with katsuki's shoulder, the static rumble of the bus slowly coaxing you to sleep.

he doesn't retract nor pushes your head off (thankfully), but he does flinch a little and completely tenses up.

"sorry. i know you hate this, but the window hurts my head." you mutter sleepily. "i like your shoulder much better."

he clenches his jaw. he hates that you have to be sorry for touching your boyfriend.

"idiot. i don't hate it." he grumbles.

you raise your head to look at him, dumbfounded.

"you don't have to look so shocked." he pushes your face away from him, as gently as he can, careful not to actually hurt you. he's relieved when you only chuckle in response.

"all that touching stuffー" he continues, "'m just not good at all that shit."

you squeeze his hand and smile softly. "well i am." you press a chaste kiss on the back of his hand before settling your cheek in his palm. as always, his chest starts to acheー in a good way at least, he thinks. you're the only thing in this world he'll allow his heart to be battered by.

"oi, do you want your face to explode or something?"

you close your eyes and nuzzle your nose into his palm. "you'll patch me up afterwards, won't you?"

katsuki, trying his absolute hardest to get over his nerves, shifts his large hand until it wraps itself around the side of your neck, now caressing your jaw. he pulls you closer until his forehead touches on yours.

"you're fucking insane." he whispers.

when he kisses you, it's nothing like what you'd expect from the bakugo katsuki. it's delicate, agonizingly slow and almost unsure, as if he's asking for permission, and of course you permit him. you lock your lips with his, press them deeper until it earns a low hum from katsuki, and you let your lips say, 'yes, yes, yes. you absolutely can.'

"see? it's not so bad." you grin.

no, it's not. it never was.

when you settle your head back on his shoulder, he watches furtively as sleep washes over you. the adorable contentment in your face, the slight part of your lips, the way your head would repeatedly slide off and he has to gently prop it back on his shoulder every time, all the while he stifles a smile of adorationー bakugo katsuki realizes that there are much scarier things in the world than this, and he swears to shield you from every one of them.

[papergirllife]

Jeong Jaehyun

CEO!Jaehyun x Secretary!reader

Synopsis:

You and Jaehyun take a trip to Florence and things get interesting on a boat with a surprise at the end :)))

warnings: public s*x (kinda), unprotected s*x, ch*king, br**ding kink, c*ck warming, strength kink, brief sub drop, tooth rotting fluff.

a/n: sorry i can't make it in time for a halloween fic, that would probably come out a bit later than expected :((, so here's a little treat instead to keep you guys sated :)))

The summer breeze feels freeing against your skin, the salt air is something you don't want to forget, the sea is a sparkling teal, you could really get used to this.

"What's on your mind, love?" Jaehyun asks, his big arms wrapped around your waist, his chin perched on your shoulder, you can feel his breath tickling your ears.

"That I'm gonna miss this very much when we're back in Seoul," you say with a longing sigh at the beautiful view.

Jaehyun hums in agreement, watching you swirl your glass of white wine before taking a long sip, you're taking in the beautiful view of Florence's sea view while he takes in his view, you, your hair blowing by, his prada sunglasses perched on the beautiful slope of your nose, your lips shining from the latest lip oil he's splurged on you after he's seen you watching numerous tiktoks of it. 

"We can come here again, you know," Jaehyun proposes, his cheek brushing against yours, nuzzling into your warmth.

"One, you have a company to run. Two, it's too expensive to do this again," you chide, it's been days already and still you never miss to mention the fact that Jaehyun dropped a bomb to plan this trip and book a whole yacht for the two of you, including a league of staff at your beck and call, the chef himself is from some really popular restaurant, his fresh pasta is to die for, you're sure the price for his services is deadly as well.

"I told you this before, I'd give you the whole world if you want," Jaehyun reminds you with a playful nudge of his head at yours, getting a laugh out of you.

"And how many times do I have to remind you? You as your own person is the equivalent of my world, not Jeong Jaehyun the CEO of a huge company, and not the benefits that come with your financial position," you say with a huff, you just know this trip is at least a year's worth of your salary, that he keeps adding for no reason mind you, what's the use of money when this man doesn't let you spend a cent of your own coin when he's around?

"I know, sweetheart, I just like spoiling you, treat it as a kink of mine, that I have this obsession with giving you princess treatment," Jaehyun says, trying to explain himself into your good books again.

"Whatever, I'm still not letting you spend a cent on groceries though," you argue, that was the deal when you moved in with him and found out that he paid for everything, utilities, necessities, your wardrobe; it was almost impossible to get him to agree to let you spend on groceries, that and whatever you manage to pick up on your way back when he works later than you, like that robot vacuum and mop hybrid you splurged on, and spending more on better quality groceries, including wine, which got a huff out of your mostly patient boyfriend.

"Wine is wine," he argued, hands on his waist, his brows furrowed, but you see right through him, he could never get mad at you.

"I put wine in pasta, and it's sold in the grocer, so it's considered as groceries," you say with a smug tone, and at that moment, Jaehyun thinks you look borderline cunning.

"Fine…"

"When we're married, I'm going to have to reevaluate our terms," Jaehyun says with a chuckle, kissing your temple.

"That's not going to be soon anyways," you say with a huff before finishing your glass of pricey wine.

"That can be changed," Jaehyun says, snatching the empty glass out of your hands, passing it to the staff before he tells her to dismiss everyone below deck.

"Right, as if you want to be tied down this quickly," you say, turning from the railing to face Jaehyun, slapping his chest playfully.

"Why? You don't think I love you enough to be tied down to you?" Jaehyun asks, the mirth disappearing in his eyes, catching you off guard.

"You're still very young, men don't like settling down so quickly," you say, cupping his cheeks, patting his cheeks, you love his mochi cheeks. 

"I'm 26, not 16, I know what I want, and that's loving you, for eternity," Jaehyun mumbles, talking despite his cheeks being squished by you, which he's quick to change, grasping your hands in his, placing them on his sturdy shoulders, "I'll prove my love to you," Jaehyun says before he slams his lips to yours, catching you off guard.

After 3 years of being with him, you still get light headed from the way he kisses you, and he knows, manoeuvring you to the big L shaped sofa.

"I'm going to prove to you now, that my love for you is as endless as the skies and the seas," Jaehyun promises after his lips part from yours. 

You quickly peel your clothes off of you, savouring Jaehyun's lustful eyes on you.

"You're a sight to behold," Jaehyun mutters before he reconnects his lips with yours. 

He just can't get enough of you today, how sweet you taste, your lip oil, the taste of bitter grape on your tongue, he's a fiend and you're his drug.

He shudders when he feels your hands make a quick work of getting rid of his clothes, your soft hands trailing through the arms that he's trained very hard for, grasping onto his biceps, Jaehyun smiles at the action, you've always been a fan of his muscles, spending your free time reading while Jaehyun works out in his personal gym, not a page turned.

Jaehyun breaks the kiss, looking at you with love drunk eyes.

"Get on fours for me, facing the ocean, let the world see how I worship my baby," Jaehyun says with mirth, eyes shining like a boy on Christmas day.

"As you wish, boss," you say before breaking out laughing when you see your boyfriend's deadpan expression.

"Very funny," Jaehyun muses before he gets distracted by the sight of your ass, a hand outstretched to smack one of your cheeks lightly, his cock growing hard at the sight of your cheek jiggling in his hold.

Jaehyun gets comfortable on the sofa before he bends down to get a quick taste, adjusting your body to his height, or he'd get a neck cramp and an earful from you later. 

Jaehyun groans when he gets an actual taste, and with one taste, he's hooked, tongue going from kitten licks to sinking his tongue deep inside your cunt, a hand grasping your cheeks open while his other hand makes its way to your sweet bundle of nerves, rotating your clit in slow circles, sending shocks down where Jaehyun's situated, drenching his mouth with your sweet juices, dripping down his chin, and the sounds you make, calling out to his name with that airy high pitched tone that only he gets to hear, if there's one thing that Jaehyun would never try in bed with you is gagging, god forbid him cockblocking himself from an eargasm, not even his favourite artists could compare to this personal melody only he gets to listens to.

You’re not the type to be super loud or something, in fact, Jaehyun often needs to remind you to be as loud as you want to be, and now with the staff being dismissed, you still fear that you’d be heard by anyone lingering nearby, but Jaeyhyun’s skillful tongue has your inhibitions down, his tongue and fingers strumming your body like a guitar, and he can tell you’re close, with the way you’ve drenched his hand, hips unconsciously pushing back to meet his touch, when his hands meet your swollen bundle of nerves, gasps of his name reach Jaehyun’s ears before he feels your juices drip down his hand.

Jaehyun has that smirk that you always tease for looking like an evil character in the dramas you always watch, the one where his face makes unconsciously, usually when he manages to get you flustered or at times like these, when Jaehyun makes a mess out of you just from his sheer dedication and familiarity of your body that he had studied obsessively.

“You need a rest, sweetheart?” Jaehyun asks when he helps you turn to face him again.

“I’m ready, we need to hurry up, I don’t want the staff to think we’re having sex right now,” you say before swivelling your hips on his length, he’s already hard and it’s just from pleasuring you, the thought has flowers blooming in your heart.

“But we are fucking right now,” Jaehyun said before he bellows out a full on laugh, which led to you shushing him with the palm of your hand.

“Exactly, that’s why we need to hurry up,” you said before you give Jaehyun back his ability to talk, positioning yourself away from Jaehyun, and suddenly, Jaehyun’s second favourite sight comes into view, the only ‘human’ peach he desires.

“So romantic of you,” Jaehyun jokes, lightly smacking your butt, he could never get bored of doing that.

“I want to enjoy the view,” you say with a huff, finally settling into a spot where the cushion feels comfortable under your elbows and knees.

“See how the horizon looks endless? My love for you is as deep as the sea, and as limitless as the sky,” Jaehyun says by your ear before he crouches over you to kiss you, he always does that, sealing his affirmations for you with a kiss.

Just a quick one, then he traces your back with his lips, the soft kisses tracing your arched spine, way down till your tailbone before he rises up again, his warm palms spreading you open gently, the sea breeze hitting your most intimate parts of you, the cool feeling quickly fading when you feel Jaehyun’s length sinking inside you, the stretch so familiar, comforting even, as the pleasure that only Jaehyun could give you once again dance through your nerves, and the feeling of being so full, so complete, you don’t think you’d want to live a world without Jaehyun, not when you’re an addict for this man you call your lover, the power he holds over you is stronger than any temptation this world has to offer.

Your eyes go cross when Jaehyun finally deems you ready for him to pick up the pace, he locates your sweet spot with the blunt of his tip, and you lose some of your composure, Jaehyun’s name escaping your lips, his name broken in parts of two and three, depending on the rhythm of his hips, and soon the beautiful view in front of you is distorted from your lust altered vision, the horizon blurring into one, just like you and Jaehyun, bodies smudged into one being, fused together by the love the two of you share.

“Ready to fall apart again, my love?” Jaehyun asks, his voice laboured from his movements, at first you didn’t know what he was saying, that is, until you feel his fingertips grazing your clit again, your hips jerking at the touch, still sensitive from before, but Jaehyun, being the service dom he is, he never wants to push you into a quick succession without your permission, hence he waits for the quick nod of your head and the breathless yes you barely managed to utter before he draws figure eights onto your sensitive bundle of nerves, he reads your body like an open book, the way you’re slumped forward, arms supporting your body instead of your elbows now, he just knows he’s going to get complaints about how he tires your body out every time you guys have sex.

Jaehyun’s spare hand winds around the base of your neck, pulling you up with a gasp of your lips, his lips touching yours, his nose digging into your cheek, the feeling so domestic, so distracting that you didn’t even notice his hand leaving your neck before you feel one of your nipples pinched between his fingers, and that’s what pushes you over the edge, your body already high strung from just his cock inside you, but his pace stutters before you feel the warmth of his seed paint your walls, the feeling sending a shudder down your back.

Jaehyun rides out your high with slow and deep thrusts, and when he starts picking up the pace again, you indulge him, just as much as he indulges in you, he knows you love a little bit of pain, sending your body into another wave of pleasurable crescendo with a cry of his name and tears prickling at the corner of your eyes, and then he stops, pulling out of you gently while he whispers of how good you were for him amongst other praises that ground you after a heavier session like that. 

“You with me baby?” Jaehyun asks while he manoeuvres you on your back, palms cradling your cheeks as if he’s trying to pull you back to the right headspace, and after a few blinks to clear your head, you remember who you are and most importantly, where you are.

“Oh my god, we need to hurry and get dressed,” you say, your eyes frantically scanning around to find your clothes.

“Hey, no rush, I’ll find your clothes and dress you, you just sit here and catch your breath, okay?” Jaehyun assures you before he quickly fetches your clothes and dresses you, giving you a quick peck on the forehead before he dresses himself and retrieves the pitcher of water to fill your glass for you, handing it to you, you didn’t realise how thirsty you were until you finished it.

“Feeling better now?” Jaehyun asks after draining his own glass.

“Yeah, would’ve liked having you stay inside me for a bit longer though, but this is definitely not the place to do so,” you say with a chuckle.

“Let’s retire back to our cabin then, I want cuddles anyways,” Jaehyun suggests before he sweeps you off the couch, carrying you bridal style down back to your room. 

When the two of you wake, it’s evening and the chef is preparing your dinner on deck, the scent of pasta sauce making your stomach rumble after what Jaehyun put you through. 

“Are you excited to go to Milan tomorrow? It’s fashion week after all,” Jaehyun says, he used the excuse of his artists’ brand endorsement to travel all the way here, not that he needed one, but the board’s old men are sometimes very…demanding.

“Yeah, I’m excited to see the Galleria, it always looks so pretty in photos,” you say, when Jaehyun first announced the two of you would be going to Italy, you quickly looked up what's famous there, other than the leaning tower and the colosseum. 

“We can go there right after we rest up, and the fashion show doesn’t take all that long, business meetings are the day after the show, so we’ll have plenty of time together,” Jaehyun promises, he’s always been so accommodating to you, always trying his best to balance his work and you, and for that, you’ll always be grateful.

“You’re sure it’s not getting in the way of your work?” you ask, but Jaehyun is quick to shake his head no, before the chef announces that dinner is served.

Dinner was brief, both of you were starving from today’s strenuous activity, and now you and Jaehyun are once again seated on the sofa, planning to take a walk around town for dessert after your dinner digests.

“There’s something I need to do before we dock,” Jaehyun says before he sees the staff once again retreating down below deck, glad that they remember his request for them to do so.

“What is it?” you ask, quickly assuming that he needs to take a call from Seoul or something, he tries not to, but you know it’s a given with his job and you respect it.

Then, Jaehyun gets down on one knee, his hand reaching into his pant’s pocket to reach for something bulky, and when you see the velvet material, your heart drops.

“I remember what you said this afternoon, about men my age not willing to settle down so soon, but I’m here, down on one knee, to prove to you that I’m willing to settle down young, If you give me the chance, I’d love if you gave me the chance to be truly yours, I know I’m a busy man, and that I have moments where I don’t give you enough of my time and attention,” Jaehyun says with melancholy swimming in his eyes, and immediately you shake your head, but before you could open your mouth to protest, Jaehyun continues his speech, “I spent three years with you now, lived together for two, but I want to spend every life with you if given the chance, so in this life, would I be able to have the honour to officially call you mine? You can finally be Mrs Jeong,” Jaehyun says with utmost sincerity, even the little inside joke he tacked on is a goal of his.

“Jaehyun, I’d be a dumbass to not say no,” you say before squatting down to his level, tackling him against the sofa with a big fat kiss, your weight crashing down on him, the air getting pushed out of his lungs from your sheer force, but Jaehyun would let you do it over and over again if it means he gets to see you smile this wide, everyday of his life.

“Thank you, sweetheart, I love you, more than you’d ever imagine, Mrs Jeong.”

“I love you too, Mr Jeong.”

[brucewaynehater101]

So there's a fic that I think you will like. It's called The Definition of Valor by Nerdpoe. Really short, spoiler free summery. Instead of loosing his Spleen, Tim looses his eyes. He makes special gadgets to help him with this, such as a device in is cowl that scans the room he is in and tells him what is where via coded sounds, like say, two low A notes followed by a chirp means there is a wooden desk to the north east of him. He also makes a special computer program for his grapple so when he points it somewhere, it will adjust his aim so he never misses and always attaches to a good spot.

This fic is giving me *so many* thoughts about the potential fall out of this being found out not as soon as Tim gets back to Gothem because he never tells anyone. Specifically it's making me think about Tim who is Bruce's dad not telling Bruce because he doesn't want to worry his son. He doesn't want to worry his grandchildren/siblings either so he puts in colored contacts and wears glasses when his cowl isn't on. The glasses and an ear piece have the same tech as his cowl to tell him where everything is.

How long would it take them to find out? Tim would never tell them, so do they find out on accident because Tim forgot the contacts that are his normal eye color, or because Ras is mad at Tim and tells them what Ras did to Tim? Maybe he got to mad and while ranting at a Rouge (either Harley or Two Face would be especially funny if he's just been hanging upside down and ranting and raving fo 30 minuets already) over one of their traps, he accidentally lets slip that he's blind, or maybe he yells at Riddler, "Nygma, this isn't fair! I've been completely blind since last July and my usual tech that tells me what's around me is getting fucked by your signal jammer! So either read the riddle to me out loud or let me go!" and then later Riddler scolds one of the other Bats for letting the blind one do the visual puzzles much to their confusion.

Hi!!! I love that fic so much! Have you seen the sequel for it as well? It's short, but a great read. I would die for more of this concept.

In that fic, Bruce turns out to be a good dad. While I may hate Bruce, the way that guy handles the situation in that fic is fantastic.

However, I would like a fic where this concept gets a delayed reveal. In the AU, Tim figures out how to function without his eyes.

He engineers technology to read people's facial expression/body language to help him out. It reads words for him, etc.

I wonder what excuse he'd give for wearing the earpiece and glasses all the time. Maybe he says it's another aspect to separate Timothy Drake from Red Robin?

Just Tim gaslighting and girlbossing his way into pretending he can still see. I kind of want him to keep up the ruse for a long while.

When he does get found it, it'd be hilarious if the others forget he's blind. Tim has engineered technology to assist him, but he still can't see. So they'll try to take him to activities they did together when he could see (like star gazing) or they'll ask him what he thinks of the color of their outfit. He also ruthlessly uses his blindness as an excuse to mess with people. If Timothy Drake-Wayne is known to be blind, he'll use it to accuse Luthor of being ableist at every chance he'll get. He also bullies the shit out of governmental agents and companies that don't provide accommodations.

I'm also a fan of Riddler finding out about it, but him just changing his puzzles to be accommodating. I'm biased towards Riddler (I love him so much) so it'd be cool to see the silent show of support like that.

Another AU idea: When Tim blows up Ra's bases, the explosions cause him to become deaf or hard-of-hearing.

Dealer's choice on how much hearing he loses, but I feel like this could be great to explore deafness and misconceptions commonly held in our society.

Tim would probably already know how to sign and lip read (might even know multiple different sign languages), but he would face a few difficulties.

He chooses not to disclose his hearing loss

People often cover their mouths or face away from someone when speaking (which makes lip reading arduous)

Ableist people suck

The world is set up for hearing people, so a lot of issues stem from a lack of accommodations rather than Tim's ability to hear

Tim chose not to tell anyone about the change in hearing for a few reasons: he doesn't trust anyone (especially during his adjustment period) and he doesn't want to be underestimated (wants to prove himself in the field before they try to pull him from it).

As far as technology to help him, the comms were easier to program than other auditory inputs. Since they were designed to transmit clear voices, he merely has to train a program to automatically close caption whatever is spoken (the automatic ones used today are useful, but still make too many errors for Tim's preference. Some also only do words automatically and leave out helpful information like laughing, choking, screaming, computer dings, etc.). Each Bat member has their own designated color. For those he doesn't interact with often, it says their name before every time they speak up.

Tim incorporates the visual overlay into his goggles and glasses. He can read what people contribute to the conversation based on that. It also leaves his hands free so he doesn't need to look down. His wrist computer stores records of what has been said so Tim can go back over it if he misses it. He also has the ability to change where the words appear on his field of vision.

I also hc Alfred is the first to notice that Tim is staring intently at his lips when he talks and has difficulties with the conversation when Alfred changes the way he pronounces words or isn't facing Tim (this is before Tim's tech gets perfected). From then on, Alfred makes a point of facing Tim whenever the teen is in the room. They both don't talk about it until the rest of the family finds out (however long that takes).

Feel free to add more to either AU!

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 2: Reign of Mercy

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: There’s a whole world here, where your curse can start to bloom…

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 6.1k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, past attempted murder

a/n: if anyone is wondering, 190811 jungkook is exactly who I have in my head for this fic. so, go google that and thank me later😍😂 also if you saw me change the summary, don't mind me😙 one more thing, I just wanted to clarify that while I say female reader, in this fic it's just the use of she/her pronouns. reader is shorter than Jungkook, but I don't think there's any actual anatomy description going on, in case that's a worry for you!

supercharged playlist

“You’re kidding, right?”

Namjoon made no reply to Jungkook at first, simply sighing. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he moved past the younger man and sank into the sofa. Anyone would have thought he hadn’t heard the irate question.

Eventually he deigned to give a weary reply.

“Jungkook, we can’t pick and choose what happens. And nor could she. So drop it.”

Silent, wide eyes flickered between the two from the kitchen. Jimin’s breath stilled at his lips watching his two brothers while he clutched V’s hand tightly.

Chewing over Namjoon’s response, Jungkook was like a ticking bomb. His gaze never faltered, blazing eyes fixed on his leader.

“Jungkook.”

Only now did his tense form turn, finding Yoongi sat on the sofa behind him, relaxed with one leg slung over the other. No one had seen him come in, but that was normal. He still had his hood up; probably just got back.

Aiming a level look at the youngest, Yoongi said no more.

Exhaling, Jungkook’s shoulders relaxed a little. Simultaneously, a hint of poison leaked away from the air in the room.

Jungkook turned around.

“It was Bolt, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Namjoon didn’t try to deny it.

Swallowing, Jungkook stepped back to take a seat by Yoongi. He did not relax into the sofa's comfort, however, staying perched on the edge, alert.

“It’ll be fine,” Namjoon spoke firmly, “I understand you’re not feeling great about it, but you’ll get used to it. A good night’s sleep, and you’ll forget you were ever this mad.”

Jungkook scoffed derisively. Like that was ever going to happen.

“It’s not fair on the kid,” Yoongi weighed in, “she was pretty beat up.”

“See?” Namjoon agreed, as if that was a positive thing. “Never mind how she might look, she was a victim of Bolt too.”

Eyes slipping to the floor, Jungkook stuck his tongue in his cheek.

“You know how we work.”

Namjoon’s words were final. And Jungkook could easily read within them the challenge, daring him to question their methods. Their trust. And he could never do that. Angry as he was, he knew Namjoon was right.

“How you’re feeling is valid,” a softer voice tentatively entered.

As Jimin slid into the spot beside him, shuffling as close as possible with comforting arms enfolding his form, Jungkook gave in. Slouching at last, he leaned into his brother as V found a spot opposite.

“But try to be fair,” Jimin’s gentle reminder sounded in his ear.

Jungkook stayed silent.

Cracking open, the door left a gap just big enough for Jin to talk through. The sound proofing on your safe room made it necessary.

“Good morning! Are you decent?”

He had to resist the panicked urge to enter when nothing answered him for a moment. But he needn’t have worried; you were still asleep. His greeting brought the first ray of light with it to illuminate your room, and soon had you stirring.

Eyelids inching open, you managed a groggy humming sound.

“Can I come in?”

“Huh? Yeah,” you croaked, coming to your senses.

Sitting up among a crumpled pile of blankets, you were in time to receive a glass of water from Jin as he entered. On moving, your head announced its displeasure with a nauseating wave of pain, so you were grateful for the pills he then pushed into your hand.

“How are you feeling?”

Swallowing them down with the cold water, you finally became alert enough to feel embarrassed. In front of you, Jin was professionally dressed in a shirt, smart as he had been the night before. You however, probably looked like the worst hangover in history.

“Not bad…” you muttered.

Examining your hands, there was mercifully no sign of that cursed blue so far. The burn you had sustained was also remarkably faded.

“Up to some breakfast? It would certainly help.”

Not sure how hungry you were, you agreed anyway. He probably knew best.

Stepping outside, he waited while you slipped on some clothes he had brought. They were fairly shapeless, large black things, but you couldn’t exactly complain.

Just as the sweater fell over your head, a prickling sensation burst into your wrists.

Gasping, you dropped the jumper over your eyes to look. To your surprise the blue shocks of light jumped from your fingertips and up the fibres of the garment like static. You braced for the burning feeling like last time, but it never came.

Still not free from the knot of fear which tightened every time the powers leapt out, you stared, dumbstruck at your palms.

“Y/N? Are you nearly ready?”

Blinking rapidly, you looked, startled to the door.

“Sorry! One moment!” you called.

There you stood, fully dressed, yet frozen to the spot. As much as this room felt like a cell, you were safe in the knowledge that your powers would do no damage in here. If you left its walls, you had no way of controlling it.

Fists clenching of their own accord, you didn't notice the gasping sniffles that took over you as you watched the door fearfully.

Clearly, Jin did.

“Y/N?” his voice was markedly more concerned, “I’m coming in.”

A moment’s pause, and he was coming towards you.

A firm grip on your wrists pulled you back to reality. Horrified, you stared wide-eyed at Jin’s hands, expecting at any moment for them to be fried when your powers made themselves known. But he was unafraid, keeping them there without hesitation.

“Y/N.” His steady tone had you raising your eyes to him. “I know this is strange for you. But you won’t hurt any of us, it’s perfectly fine. And besides, food makes everything better.”

Holding his smiling gaze with scepticism, you let your hands fall weakly to your sides as he released them. Wiggling your fingers, you tried to detect any sign of the electricity that now resided there.

With a sigh, you only lagged a few steps when you followed Jin's lead out of the room.

A little way down the corridor, a glorious smell of cooking wafted past. Perhaps Jin had a point.

Emerging into the kitchen, you eagerly headed towards the mouth watering scent. But on rounding the corner, your steps slowed a little. Although the space was mostly empty, providing some relief from the overwhelm of last night, the figures that occupied the place were not ones that built your confidence.

By the stove, flipping bacon in a pan, was a man you hadn’t seen before. But you only caught a glimpse of his profile under white hair, before your eyes fell on the other, seated at the island.

Slowing, you instantly recognised the face of Jungkook, who had looked so angry last time he had seen you. Tentative to get too close, you stopped entirely some steps away from the seats.

Nearer to you, the tv was on, volume low as it displayed the news to two empty sofas. But, eager for the distraction, you let your eyes linger on it to delay approaching the intimidating man in the kitchen.

Shame it didn’t provide the respite you were bargaining for. A shot of a city tower cut directly to a startling blue image, the beaming face of a man otherwise hidden by his mask. Bolt.

Your eyes widened, breath freezing in your body as the blue eyes on screen seemed to pierce through to meet your own. The same blue which had confronted you in the mirror last night.

Gulping, you forced your eyes down to the rolling red text below the images.

BOLT SPARES ATTACKER, REIGN OF MERCY PREVAILS

Something churned, low and dangerous in your gut. The letters leered, imprinting themselves on your retinas as you struggled to believe them.

“…you know, my job is to keep people safe, not to sentence them…” Bolt’s voice carried faintly from the screen, twisting harshly in your ears, “…the authorities are the real heroes, I just lend a hand where I can…”

So Bolt had done the noble thing, and left Kuyang unharmed? Except he had sentenced you. Judge, jury and executioner, all in the blink of an eye. In one throwaway flicker of light.

Taeyeon hadn’t even been so lucky.

You hadn’t even noticed the tension in your frame until the image in front of you suddenly shrunk, dropping to black.

“That’s enough of that.”

Jin threw the remote onto the sofa, giving you a meaningful glance. You avoided it, spinning back onto your original path, having totally forgotten your reason for abandoning it in the first place.

Jungkook had been shovelling food into his mouth, but looked up as Jin rounded the island.

And then he saw you.

Straightening instantly in his chair, his chopsticks hovered in mid-air as his every action halted.

Your brain failed you, leaving you staring right back. It was only after a second that you jerkily prompted yourself to smile. Might as well try to make a good impression.

His brow quirked a little, the only acknowledgment you got. Because not a second later, you were gasping as a shock ran down your arms.

Hurriedly fisting your hands in your jumper, you gritted your teeth. Already subsiding, the familiar feeling was seeping away as a chair screeched against the floor and Jungkook’s tall figure brushed roughly past you.

Turning after him with shock, you could only watch the rigid line of his shoulders as he marched away down the hall.

“Breakfast is served!”

Jin’s chipper call pulled you reluctantly back to the table. Seating yourself, you caught him looking regretfully after Jungkook.

Though the food on your plate was steaming hot and looked delicious, you frowned around at the kitchen. Hadn’t someone else just been here? And what had just happened with Jungkook?

As you began to eat, you eyed Jin’s back. Could you have done something to upset Jungkook? The way Jin had looked ready to run after him reminded you again of the fact you had suddenly intruded, albeit not of your own accord, on what seemed to be an established group.

Fixing your eyes on your plate, you focussed on getting through breakfast. It was admittedly very tasty, and you felt energy return to your body once more.

“Any better?”

Jin’s stubbornly upbeat mood was back, and now you were finally able to offer him a smile and a nod. Feeling full and a little more alive, you turned your attention to Jin who leant towards you from across the table.

“You’re still recovering from yesterday, but we need to do a little bit of work” – you frowned slightly – “it’s not like we want to put you in full training, but Joon reckons you would appreciate being able to control your powers a little.”

Though you nodded, your frown deepened.

“Training?”

“Ah.”

That was all Jin said before standing, leaving you no option but to follow him. Abandoning the kitchen, you hurried to his heels and walked, confused as ever, back down the corridor away from the main space.

However, this time, you passed by the door to your small room. There was little variation in scenery as you went further down the corridor. You found yourself near enough tripping over Jin’s heels when he stopped in front of the final door that ended the hallway. Plain and dark like the others, it was like a black hole, pulling you towards it.

Looking up at Jin, you tore your eyes away from his hand where it rested, hovering on the handle. His mouth had drawn itself into a flatter line, smile erased in favour of a serious stare.

“The others are probably in there already, so… just stay near.”

And then he flashed a smile, as if he had been inviting you in for tea.

With no more time to worry about what on earth he meant by that, you were greeted with the door opening and an instant cacophony of sound from beyond it.

Eyes widening, you forced newly tense muscles forwards. Jin’s reminder to ‘stay near’ pressed close on your mind as he disappeared into the dim space beyond.

A thin staircase curved and led you downwards. When the door shut, it cut off no light. In here, flashes bounced off dark walls, air cracking as it was tossed around.

Coming to the base of the stairs, you looked over a long room. It resembled a gym, a couple of benches and punching bags pushed against the outside walls and large square mats on the floor. Sure enough, as Jin had said, some of the boys you had met the previous day were dotted along it.

As you stopped beside Jin, who waited by the steps, another spark, like lightning, burst across the far end of the space. Gold sliced through the air in a thick, powerful beam, veins darting into the air.

Just as quickly, it was gone.

“Jungkook has the most similar powers to you,” Jin’s voice, low in your ear, “which is why we would have him teach you, but… I don’t think that’s best, right now.”

He moved into the space without elaborating. Though your feet carried you with him, you were occupied by squinting across at Jungkook. He hadn’t noticed you yet. He was facing away, and now he rolled his shoulders out, shaking hair from his face, and raised his arms again.

In the blink of an eye, vibrant gold shot from his palms, towards a sort of metal disk on the wall opposite him.

“Look out!”

Your gaze at Jungkook was severed as a tug came on your arm.

In your distraction, your feet had stilled, and now you stumbled towards Jin and out of the path of a medicine ball which slammed into the wall with a dull thud. Gulping, you watched it fall heavily to the ground, not even bouncing.

“Sorry!”

Snapping your jaw shut, you found the source of the apology.

Chest heaving and pink hair plastered to his forehead, was the man that had smiled at you last night. He shot another dazzling grin now, as if he hadn’t just sent a weighted ball shooting at where your head had been.

But as your eyebrows raised, he lifted a hand and suddenly the ball floated up from its resting place on the ground. The next moment it was flying back towards him.

Flattening his hand, the ball stopped and stayed hovering a few inches above his palm.

You must have failed to hide the shock on your face. The moment he looked over to you, he burst out laughing, eyes creasing. And you couldn’t be sure – his eyes were obscured after all – but they might have glowed pink for a moment as you watched. The ball never moved, seemingly fixed in place in mid-air.

“That’s Jimin,” Jin muttered, then raised his voice, “get back to it!”

Laughter subsiding into a bold grin, Jimin snatched the medicine ball from the air and turned away.

Close behind Jin, you made more effort to stay with him this time, eager not to find yourself in the path of any more flying things.

Further along, the wall gave way to an opening. A similar room lay beyond, square this time. Peering around the corner, a familiar blond zoomed across your vision. But watching the person, you could barely believe it was the same cheery Hope who had welcomed you yesterday.

This room had more equipment, ropes descending from the middle of the ceiling, as well as bars and hoops filling the floor. And currently Hobi was way above your heads, making easy work of a rope. Your eyes nearly popped out of your head when he leapt from it with zero hesitation.

A second later, he landed securely on the wall, grasping small climbing holds you hadn’t noticed. They were black just like the walls, only noticeable because he was now clutching onto them.

Pulling himself up, he launched once again into the air, kicking off the neighbouring wall into a somersault. You had barely scooped your jaw off the floor when he landed on a lower platform and dropped out of sight behind it.

“You know Hob-ah already,” Jin said conversationally. His light tone sounded more like he was showing you around an art gallery, not that you had just seen his friend performing death-defying stunts.

Rushing once more to keep up with your guide, your eyes never settled. They darted from him to the surroundings, not having time to look more at the flash of purple from across the room or the white-haired man slumping onto a bench near Jungkook.

“So this-“ you panted, “this is training?”

“Yep!”

“You… you all train with your powers?”

A nod.

You had reached the end of the gym now. A couple more doors led on; where, you could not guess. This place seemed like a maze. You didn’t even know whether you were underground or not at this point.

Sticking close to Jin, you couldn’t help but shrink back as you passed Jungkook. He was a few strides away, but as you expected, that venomous glare fixed itself back on his face the moment he saw you.

Sparks crackled by his fingertips, drawing your eyes. Was he trying to intimidate you?

Brow sinking and nostrils flaring, you fixed a stare right back at him. You hadn’t spoken to him once! What could his problem be? As you glared, a flicker of gold darted across his irises.

But then you had apparently reached your destination, as Jin opened one of the doors and you were led away, gaze warring with Jungkook until the last moment.

Once you turned back to Jin, you found him a way down the new hallway. Quickening to catch up, you frowned at the back of Jin’s head.

“What… what power do you have?” you asked tentatively.

In front of the next door, Jin stopped, making you do the same. A soft chuckle left him, his face good-humoured as he turned to you as if you had just told a joke. Shaking his head, his eyes turned back to the door you waited at.

“Me? No, I don’t have any powers.”

And then he was rapping at the door.

“One moment!” came a call from inside.

“Except maybe keeping Namjoon-ssi organised,” Jin winked at you then.

Too startled to form any kind of response, you hadn’t so much as laughed before the door was pulled open. Jin swiftly left as Namjoon smiled in greeting and stood back to let you into the room.

Swallowing, you stepped into the space. It was fairly unremarkable, grey walls with a plain desk and a couple of chairs in the middle.

You paused a few steps in, but now Namjoon strode to the desk. Following, you sat opposite him. A tension had seeped into your frame and now you eyed him warily as he made himself comfortable, a welcoming smile on his face.

“I’m sure Jin told you,” he began, “we don’t expect you to do anything with your powers just yet. But it will make things easier for you if you can control them a little. Is that okay?”

You nodded.

Taking you in for a moment, Namjoon was silent. Then he sat back and spread his arms.

“I want you to summon them.”

“What?”

Your protest was instant, but you got no further.

“If you can summon them, that level of control will help you to suppress them as well,” Namjoon explained calmly, finger raised to quell your complaints, “not to mention that by using your powers, it prevents the need for them to burst out uncontrolled as well.”

“But… I don’t know how to summon them,” you spoke quieter, hanging your head.

The scrape of his chair brought your eyes up again. An encouraging nod your way had you standing as well.

“Hold your hands out.”

Still hesitant, you did it anyway. He seemed to have no issue with the fact he would be directly in your line of fire if you actually succeeded.

“Okay. I would have liked to ask Jungkook to do this with you, since his powers are most like yours. I don’t know exactly what your powers feel like, so you’ll have to think about that yourself. Can you imagine how it felt when you used them?”

You chewed your lip as you tried to recall. It hadn’t been pleasant, you knew that. A sort of itching, tingling sensation – though at first it had been worse, like a burning.

You didn’t want to feel that again.

“Got it?” he asked.

Nodding weakly, you listened to the next instructions.

“As a starting point, try to picture the feeling. Hopefully they should respond. Really focus, and when they do, try to sustain it for a couple of seconds. You should be able to feel the core, where the power is flowing from.”

You blinked. You hadn’t really understood any of that, but you took a deep breath anyway.

Letting your eyes slide closed, you tried to remember precisely the feeling of your powers. Not that you wanted to feel the electricity claw its way down your veins, or burst from your fingertips.

Nonetheless, you willed the fire to unleash itself.

It must have sensed your reluctance, though. Nothing came.

Dropping your arms after a few more moments, you sent an apologetic glance to Namjoon. But he didn’t look disappointed in the least like you had imagined he would.

“It almost never works the first time,” he said. “Keep trying.”

Biting down on your lip, you resigned yourself and raised your hands again.

“If it helps, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” he kept talking, “you won’t hurt me, or damage anything. In fact, you can actively try to hit me if you want. Imagine I’m someone you hate!”

His dimpled grin made it hard to imagine him as an enemy you would enjoy frying with lightning. Focussing again on the non-existent feeling in your arms and hands, you tried to come up with some sort of motivation.

Your first thought was Bolt.

You had only seen him for a few minutes, but it had been enough for him to rule your life out as insignificant. The single thoughtless shock of blue could well have ended your life – nearly did.

A sharp flicker of heat made your eyes fly open. At the same moment, an exclamation from Namjoon.

For a split second, blue had bloomed in your palms, but it had slipped away before you could grasp it.

“That was good,” he encouraged, “a bit longer next time.”

Breathing heavily, you shut your eyes again, the sensation more present in your mind now. Your anger at Bolt had helped, but the memory was so fleeting it couldn’t sustain the feeling.

Taking a steadying breath, you straightened your arms in front of you. You wanted to do this. Strangely, the next face that cropped up was that of Jungkook. Glaring whenever he saw you, he seemed to resent your presence.

Maybe he didn’t want you there? Didn’t think you belonged?

You would show him. You wanted to do this. If you could control your powers, he would have no reason to look down on you.

Gritting your teeth, you looked the inevitable pain right in the face, challenging it to come out.

Like a floodgate opening, you felt a heat expand in your chest, energy flowing down your arms. When your eyes opened, they were met with a beam of light as it exploded out from your hands.

Without noticing it, your jaw had dropped. The bright blue light you had so quickly come to despise spilled confidently from open palms. Very quickly, the discomfort of electricity in your veins faded, nothing a but a slight warmth to indicate your power.

Around you, you vaguely noticed a deep red glow hanging in the air. Made of light, the cage-like structure stretched from the floor and was containing the lightning you were creating.

On the other side of it, Namjoon stood unharmed, your power dissipating, melting in mid-air before it could harm him.

“Stop,” he now told you, voice slightly raised.

Blinking as spots bleached themselves into your vision, you tore your eyes from the light that had hypnotised you. How did you make it stop?

“Make the feeling go away,” Namjoon said, “the opposite of what you just did. You control these powers.”

You didn’t exactly feel that was true. Arms beginning to tremble, you desperately scrambled to shut it off. It felt warm, so you tried to think of cold, creeping up your arms…

The beams of light sputtered.

Breathing in, you clenched your fists around the power. You could tell it was stemming from your chest, and tried to focus on shutting it off. It felt much like swimming upstream, counter-intuitive as you had to forcefully reign in the feeling that suddenly felt natural.

Holding your breath, you screwed your eyes shut.

Your powers pushed back, wanting to be free. But you dug your heels in, getting the odd sensation that you were backed up against a door that didn’t want to shut.

But the warmth was receding, the stream of energy down your arms thinning.

Namjoon was repeating your name. You had to stop.

All at once, like a candle blown out, the light was gone. All the heat snuffed out, the barrier in your chest blockaded.

Gasping, you fell forwards, stumbling until your arms braced against the desk. Before now you hadn’t noticed the sweat breaking out on your forehead, nor the exertion making you heave for breath.

The red cage dissolved around you, a flash of crimson dying in Namjoon’s eyes.

“Good, well done,” he was saying, a chair being thrust under you. Sinking gladly into it, you still leaned heavily on the table.

“That was good,” he repeated, a glass of water making its way into your hand, “I won’t make you do more now. But it was a start.”

Panting, you raised your eyes as you lifted the glass to your lips. The water was welcome since you felt like you had just run the length of the city. Wrangling your powers to your will was difficult, but you didn’t know what you had expected.

A sharp chime rang out.

Starting, you saw Namjoon’s gaze snap to the tabletop, where a screen had lit up. A small circle and a name popped up, but he swiped it quickly away, the screen’s light dying the next second.

But you frowned. You could have sworn that said-

“Apologies,” he spoke, standing up, “business calls. Is it alright if you rest outside? You can find your way back when you’re ready. We have no more demands to make of you for a while.”

And so you followed him to the door, being left alone soon after.

You looked each way down the plain corridor outside. Letting a breath out, you resolved to at least find a seat before collapsing with exhaustion, so you set off, feeling a little lost. So far you hadn’t really been left alone here, always being shown the way.

But it was simple enough, only a straight path to the large training room you had already seen.

It was emptier now. Someone was evidently still training as you could hear noise, but it came from out of sight in one of the adjoining spaces. Otherwise, the place was now deserted, leaving you free to sink onto the nearest bench.

Limbs feeling a little shaky, you gladly took the weight off them and slumped back against the wall.

You were unsure how long you spent staring into space, catching your breath. That had been tiring, so much effort expended for relatively little result. You supposed you should be proud that you had achieved some level of control over the powers, but you still felt no safer. If they were to surge again, you were no closer to being able to hold them off with any ease, nor to summon them.

The only thing you were sure of was that the energy from breakfast had quickly been chased away, and the prospect of ever getting up again was distinctly unappealing.

“Hey!”

The cheery call pulled you from your thoughts. At some point the sounds from the next room had ceased, outside your notice, and now Hope was walking from the training room.

Having seen you, he changed course and was heading your way. The sight of his sweat-soaked hair and reddened face reassured you for a moment – you weren’t the only one tired. But this only comforted you for a split second before you remembered the sorts of stunts he had been doing, while you had only half succeeded in your beginner attempt.

“First training session?” he asked, thousand-watt grin never fading.

“If you could call it training,” you half-heartedly chuckled.

“Ah, you’ll be great in no time!” As he drew up to you, you finally mustered the strength to stand up, joining him to a clap on the shoulder. Taking in your dejected state, he offered a sympathetic smile. “Tiring tho, hmm?”

“You could say that.”

“Well, I know what you need! Some good food will pick you right up.”

You couldn’t say you disagreed, and put all your remaining energy into getting up the stairs and to the kitchen while Hobi talked on happily.

“I’ll get us something,” he told you once you were there.

Infinitely grateful for his offer, you slid into the closest seat and resisted the urge to face-plant the table. Instead you leaned on your elbows, watching idly as he grabbed plates from the cupboards.

“Ah! Y/N! How was it?”

A new addition rushed to the kitchen, familiar pink hair approaching as Jimin took a seat beside you. You looked back into a bright smile as he sat expectant.

Laughing drily, you looked at the countertop.

“I don’t think I’m a natural.”

Tilting his head, he pouted a little at your response and lifted a hand to rub your shoulder comfortingly.

“It’s always tough to start with,” he nodded, “but the beginning is the hardest. Don’t push yourself.”

“Yeah, we can’t all be Jungkook,” Hobi laughed. He returned to the table with two plates of sandwiches, pushing one under your nose. Jimin quickly turned his attention to pout at Hope, who rolled his eyes and shoved the other plate towards the pink-haired boy before returning to prepare another for himself.

As desperate as you had been a moment ago for some food, your curiosity was piqued.

““Be Jungkook”? What do you mean?”

“Our golden youngest,” Jimin explained, taking a large bite of his meal before adding, “for more than one reason.”

“It’s seriously unfair,” Hobi spoke over his shoulder, “the kid can do anything he sets his mind to. Best pupil Joon’s ever had.”

Shutting your mouth, you sank a little in your chair. Jimin was buried in his sandwich, and Hobi in the kitchen, leaving you to pick at your own plate. But you only bit your lip. So Jungkook was some kind of prodigy?

You sighed, neglecting your food entirely. It made you feel even worse about your terrible performance and lack of skill. And here you were, thinking that you would be able to prove yourself to the man who seemed to hate you.

Only when a flickering light distracted you did you look up from your hopelessness.

The kitchen light blinked off entirely for a brief moment, returning to reveal Hobi whirling around with a shout.

“That’s my lunch! Make your own, this is already my second try!”

Frowning, you looked around trying to spot who Hope was berating. Nothing.

While you sat perplexed, the blond suddenly leapt across your vision, jumping high enough to hop from the kitchen table and towards the sofa. As he landed, another figure became abruptly visible, falling as if emerging from a patch of shadow.

Beside you, Jimin guffawed loudly as you gaped. Hobi had knocked the mysterious figure from seemingly thin air, and now deftly swept a plate of sandwiches from their hands, the whole while straddling them to keep them pinned on the sofa cushions.

“Nice try!”

A muffled ‘get off’ accompanied flailing arms, vague attempts at whacking their attacker.

Heaving himself from the couch, Hobi walked victorious to the counter and began, at last, to eat. Behind him, a white-haired young man sat up, ruffling his dishevelled hair as a hood fell from his head.

He turned around with a sheepish smile, shuffling back to the kitchen.

“Be gentle, Hob-ah,” he grumbled on his way past, though there was no malice behind it.

Hobi only laughed loudly in return, turning as the white-haired man came past and playfully hit at his shoulder.

“You’re all brats!” Hope claimed loudly, waving half a sandwich in the air. He was laughing so hard you were concerned for a moment he would fall clean off the chair.

As yet, the new man hadn’t noticed your blatant staring. Luckily, your attention was diverted before he could see your saucer-like eyes. Unluckily, it was diverted by the entrance of a certain Jungkook.

Jimin had been the first to stop laughing. Looking around, you became aware of the tall figure hanging back in the shadows on the other side of the living room.

The raucous joy that had filled the kitchen froze over very quickly as the other occupants noticed him. Cold, piercing eyes scanned over the space, but undeniably landed on you. Struck dumb, you merely stared back as his calculating gaze bored into you.

Setting his jaw, his gaze snapped away, fleeting over the rest of the room for a moment before he turned and left.

Sliding from his chair, Jimin dropped his remaining lunch back onto his plate.

“Jungkook-” he called, shoulders drooping when there was no response. With a sigh he followed after the younger man.

You watched him go, and then watched the empty doorway he had left through. When at last you turned slowly back to the kitchen, Hoseok sent you a grimace.

“Sorry it’s taking him a while to warm up,” he said, as if that was consolation. It didn’t seem as if Jungkook was trying to ‘warm up’ to you at all.

You produced no reply, but were saved the trouble as the white-haired man joined you. For the first time, he looked at you, eyes roaming over your face, still surely littered with scrapes from the previous night.

“You look better than yesterday,” he commented.

You blinked.

“I’m sorry… have we met?”

“Yoongi,” he nodded, sinking onto a chair. Then, “you should eat that.”

That had hardly explained anything, but you complied anyway, picking up your food. Once you had finally finished your sandwich, the quiet was disrupted by Namjoon entering. Nodding once at you, he headed across to the kitchen.

Seeing him again, you were reminded of the ‘business’ call that had taken him from you earlier on. Eyes lingering on his back as he busied himself grabbing a mug and plate from the cupboards, your curiosity swelled within you. You were sure you had seen who was calling him. Though your life before Bolt – and all that happened since – seemed so distant, you couldn’t help your keen interest.

On the edge of your seat, you chewed on your lip until you couldn’t hold it any more.

“How’s Kuyang?” you blurted.

The others’ eyes snapped to you. Namjoon froze.

Slowly, he turned around, faint frown lining his face. You never dropped his questioning stare.

“He’s… fine,” he spoke.

“Sorry,” Hope looked lost, “you know Kuyang?”

Before you could do more than nod, Yoongi spoke up too.

“He’s fine? How did he get away from Bolt?”

“That’s not important.” Namjoon strode across the kitchen, “but how do you know Kuyang?”

“I was his secretary.”

You had hoped your honesty might prompt Namjoon to reciprocate, but no such luck. His reason for involvement with Kuyang was promptly forgotten. Hobi gasped at your news; Yoongi’s eyes widened slightly as if something was dawning on him.

But Namjoon beat him to it.

“That explains why you were hit by Bolt,” he said.

“We thought you were just a bystander that got unlucky,” Hobi chipped in.

Just as you opened your mouth to return to your original question, Namjoon turned away from the table. Swiping his food from the counter, he marched away.

Halfway across the room, he paused with a look over his shoulder. Maybe he would give in and tell you at last?

“I suggest you rest,” he told you instead, “Jungkook is going to help you practise some more tomorrow.”

Thank you for reading!! I'm so looking forward to hearing what you thought🥰

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