#i was dancing turned around and she was less than a metre away from me i was like omfg

[smalls-words]

Feeble

Summary: Hunters threaten your relationship with Rebekah. Can your love heal it?

Pairings: Rebekah x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: Blood, vampires, verbal abuse, lmk if there’s anything else.

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Words: 1,797

A/N: If you have been paying attention to my blog, you might have seen that i’ve expanded my Who I Write For list, and that i’ve been reblogging a lot of Rebekah fics. So, I decided to have a try at it myself! (P.S. I haven’t watched much of TVDU 😬)

*not my gif*

If somebody asked you what Rebekah was like, you had a hard time answering the question. The only solid answer you could give them would be that she had strong emotions - her happiness went through the roof, and her depressive states were the lowest you’ve ever seen.

You found out she was a vampire in an odd situation. A group of hunters were in Mystic Falls, no surprise there, and they tracked a few of them to the school’s masquerade dance. You two had scurried off to find a quiet place to talk, a place she had hoped to tell you she was a vampire, but two cars had come to the open sides of the two buses.

“Bekah?” You called through the window of the bus, noticing how they revved their engines.

“Love, stay in the bus, okay? Close your eyes.” She looked up at you, waiting patiently for you to listen.

You nodded and closed your eyes, but the sound of crunching metal and screeching wheels forced them back open. You stood frozen, a single hand over your mouth, as Rebekah’s blackened veins and reddened sclera looked up at you.

“Y/N…” You heard her voice whimper as you bolted out of the back of the bus.

Rebekah quickly dealt with the hunters, disposing of them easily and without a speck of blood on her. She searched the entirety of Mystic Falls before the sun started to rise, worrying her since she had not found you. 

But then she remembered. 

She remembered the clearing she had brought you to which had a firefly nest, soft bushes of flowers almost bordering it whilst willow trees finalised the sectioned-off paradise. Her fingers loosely pushed through the hanging leaves to find you in the middle of the clearing. You were obviously crying and it was something she hated, only because she thought it ruined your happy soul. 

“My love, please, listen to me-”

The sound of her voice startled you, but she saw it as you in fear of her. She pulled back into the shadows and watched you tidy yourself up, your crumpled dress only getting dirtier as you shuffled around on the floor.

“Please, love.” Her voice cracked, wanting to step towards you but the blood on the back of her tongue was hard to get rid of since her throat had practically closed.

“Just…” You shivered, cold from the night.

Rebekah noticed your core temperature, the blood in your veins helping, and she darted out of view. You looked around wildly before you glanced down, a familiar jacket adorning your arms and a warmth to them unlike any other that could fail at comforting you.

“Bekah…” You murmured, looking up at her shadowed face.

“Yes, angel?” She replied, not even affected by the cold night.

“Explain.” You asked.

So she sat down with you, no less than two metres apart, and explained her history. You sat through all of it, unsure of how much you would remember in the morning given that Matt had given you some alcohol, but Rebekah’s outstretching hand forced you out of your mind, moving away from it.

You watched the rejected look form on her face, the hand returning to her lap to be fiddled with. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I was going to, but those hunters…” She sighed angrily, looking up to see you stare out aimlessly.

“I need time.” The words fell out of your mouth like the waterfall not too far from you, another hiding spot that Rebekah had found you in before.

She nodded before speaking. “Of course. Take as much time as you need.”

“You have forever, I suppose.” You chuckled softly.

Rebekah smiled.

———————————▽▽——————————

A few days turned into two weeks, and the most you two had done was greet each other with a passing wave or ‘hello’ in the hallway. Elena, Caroline and Bonnie had wondered why you were spending so much time with them, but their answer was in front of them.

Now, you had History with none other than Rebekah, your right-hand witch at her spot next to you whilst you stared at the back of Rebekah’s head. She must have been lost in her thoughts, however, because Mr. Tanner was staring at her expectantly.

“Rebekah? Earth to Rebekah?”

“What?” She asked him, rising out of her stupor.

“The reading.” Tanner replied.

“Last night's reading?” 

“How about, uh, the reading of the Gettysburg Address?” 

Your eyes rolled beneath your hand at Mr. Tanner’s approach to humour.

“What?” Rebekah cocked her head to the side slightly. 

“That's sarcasm. Are you familiar with the term ‘sarcasm’, Mikaelson?” 

“Very.” 

Mr. Tanner sighed. “Did you do the reading or not?” 

“Uh - I think I forgot.” Rebekah admitted.

*This is unlike her.* You thought, placing your head on your hand that was seated upon your desk. 

“Nice work, Mikaelson. You’re lucky you're not averaging a D in this class. How about you summarise, uh, the previous night's reading?” Mr. Tanner was now searching for attention, challenging Rebekah in the weakest mindset of her life as she shook her head.

“No? How about the, uh, the night before that?”

Once again, Rebekah shook her head, and you could see her hands starting to shake. 

“How about you summarise anything you've ever read, in your entire life?” 

“I- I, uh-” 

“No? A blog? How about, uh, how about, uh, the back of a cereal box? No? How about the adults only warning from your favourite website you visit every night? Anything?” Mr. Tanner gave her a sly grin and you had to stop yourself from yelling at him.

Instead, you did something else.

“Thank you, Mikaelson, thank you! Thank you for extinguishing any last flicker of hope I have for your generation. You just blew it for everybody. Thanks. Next lesson you can start us off with the Cold War. Unless that's too much reading.”

Bonnie felt calm as her witchy senses dialled down, looking between you and Rebekah before her eyes fell down towards your conjoined hands. Your thumb was gently rubbing over the back of her hand, fingers interlocked.

Your face was in your arm, as Mr. Tanner had gotten used to it, and you whispered soft words of encouragement. “Listen to me, Bekah. Don’t listen to him. Listen to my heart, the way my blood runs through my body. Listen to me and only me.” 

She did, taking deep breaths too, and hardly focused on anything but you until the end of the class. When she pulled her hand back from yours, she found a piece of paper with a few words on it - a few words too easy for her mind to connect the dots.

———————————▽▽——————————

She found you in the clearing, the brightness of the day contrasting with the last time you were here, and smiled as you sat upon the centre, your bag draped to your right. As her hands parted the willow leaves, you turned around to see her before patting the grass next to you.

She sat down, much closer than two metres, and smiled softly. “Thank you. I thought I was going to rip his head off.” 

“If you weren’t going to do it, I was.” You remarked, looking at her fidgeting hands. 

“You look tired, Bekah.” You reached over and took one of them, the same one you had held in class, and slowly raised her hand to your lips. A gentle, silent kiss meant more to the vampire than any words could say, her undead heart feeling an overwhelming sense of joy that spilled out into tears.

“Thank you.” She croaked through them all, each one disappearing by a swipe of your thumb.

She leaned in closer to you and you nodded softly, kissing her soft lips. Her hands wove through your hair, bringing you impossibly closer with the gentlest of movements, scared to rip off your head accidentally.

She pulled away for a breath but you stole it back, pushing her onto the grass so that you could lie on top of her. However, using her vamp speed, she spun you both and rested on top, her elbows planted next to your head as a knuckle gently tickled the skin of your cheek by your ear.

“Show me. Please?” You asked and she closed her eyes, focusing on the throb of your blood that always drummed inside of her mind.

When she opened her eyes, she saw your face unchanged. Maybe she had discovered a new Original ability? Petrification? She frowned slightly though as your hand came to cup her chin, peeling back her top lip to expose one of her fangs. 

You began to press your thumb against it until it pierced, with Rebekah lightly drinking at it as the liquid pooled in her mouth. After a few seconds, she pulled away and licked her lips, to which you sucked your thumb clean and smiled warmly at her.

“Now you look a bit better.” You murmured, kissing her softly once more.

“Thank you, angel.” She grinned, eyeing your neck briefly until she looked back at your lips.

You spotted the glance. “You can have some more. Klaus told me you need energy from blood. I’m happy to be your little blood bag.” You chuckled, leaning your head back and to the side slightly for her to access your vein.

She leaned down, slowly covering your neck like she was giving a hickey, but you felt the two fangs prick your skin as they sank in. She drank for a good thirty seconds before she came away, licking up the residue on your neck as she moved.

“Thank you.” She spoke softly.

“You’re always welcome.” You replied, but she brought her wrist to her lips as she bit down, hard enough to draw blood.

“Healing powers, remember? Or did Klaus not tell you that part?” She matched your expression when your eyebrows raised.

“I’m fine, Bekah.” You murmured, but she pushed her wrist against your mouth anyway.

“I want you healed, not just fine.” She scolded, waiting for colour to flush your cheeks before she pulled away her wrist.

“Now, darling - shall we head back to class? I believe we have Music.” 

You nodded, taking her hand as she stood up. You wobbled a bit, with her arms catching you and a concerned look across her face as she brought her wrist back to her lips, but you shook your head. “I’ll be okay.” 

“I’m staying with you the whole day.” She declared, reaching her arm around your waist to both help you walk steadier if you needed it and to be a physical reminder to others.

What reminder, you ask? 

That you were hers - her feeble little human.

[clethos]

day 3 of @mcyt-yuri-week! prompt was hurt/comfort, so i wrote pearl getting injured while fighting mobs and cleo, releuctantly, taking care of her.

fic under cut!

Cleo shouldn't be here.

They're just doing a bit of mining and grinding, waiting for Scott to sleep off his post-respawn slump, and this cave just below them looks promising but it's filled with monsters. Creepers, skeletons, those freaky blue spiders- and Pearl.

Knees bent, hair tied back, she stands in the middle of a decent-sized cave, clutching an iron sword in one hand and a shield in the other. As the small circle of mobs begins to close in on her, she springs into action, expertly dodging a creeper, whirling around to slam her shield into a stray skeleton's ribcage. 

Cleo watches from above, reluctantly impressed. Pearl's a good fighter- they know this, somehow, in the part of their brain that's starting to collect dust. Certainly better than Cleo, in any case. She makes it look easy; like a dance, like something smiling and romantic instead of the sweaty, blood-and-guts affair it is. They can't seem to look away.

And then, in the space of an instant: things start to go wrong.

Pearl, light glinting off her sword as she slashes at a spider, doesn't notice the creeper in the shadows behind her- not until she's sprawled on her back in a crater, momentarily stunned, her sword blown clear across the cave. The sleeve of her hoodie smolders and burns out. The monsters descend upon her.

She's fending them off pretty well with just her shield, but even from here Cleo can see her growing tired, her movements more frantic and less in control. They have to squint to see her, behind the cluster of mobs converging on her like rabid dogs. 

All at once her whole body flashes red, briefly lighting up the ravine.

She's taking damage . Cleo, not quite thinking, leaps down from their ledge, throws down a water bucket as a quick afterthought. Their knees crack weirdly when they land, the sound echoing off the stone walls.

Pearl turns to stare at them. Unfortunately, so does every hostile mob in a twenty-metre radius.

Forgetting their initial plan, Cleo darts forward, grabs Pearl's hand, and starts to run .

---

"Fuck," Pearl wheezes, when they're back on the surface and have a moment to sit down. "Fuck. That little bugger got me, see?" She tugs up the hem of her jeans, revealing a deep gouge in her calf. Blood trickles down and into her left sneaker. Cleo winces.

"A zombie bite? You should get that checked out." As soon as the words leave their mouth they realize how stupid they sound. There's no doctors here. No nurses, no ambulances. No one to save them if nature decided to fuck them over.

"I got vaccinated, actually. I think a couple months ago? So it won't kill me or infect me or anything."

"Sure," Cleo allows, "but you'll be mighty sore come morning. I bet that tower'll be a real pain to climb now, huh?"

Pearl grimaces. "Don't even remind me." And then, quieter: "Thanks. You really saved my butt back there."

"I barely even did anything."

"Well, at least you didn't just leave me there to become zombie food. I think some other people on the server would've."

Her voice cracks on the last word. Cleo doesn't know what to make of any of this. Their head hurts.

"It was just... Because of Scott, you know? He just died, I can't have him already going red."

"Sure," Pearl says, sounding hurt. Cleo almost feels bad. "I guess I better get going now." She stands up abruptly, wincing as her leg almost gives out underneath her.

"Wait," Cleo says. They're surprised to have said it, actually, to hear it out loud in their own voice, but they forge on anyways. "That- that bite's pretty bad. You should bandage it before you go."

---

"You've got to wash it first," Cleo chides. Their not-quite-a-heart is not quite pounding at the proximity, but it comes pretty close. "Did you not know that?"

Pearl's face has gone pale and tightly drawn with pain, but she doesn't flinch as Cleo cleans her wound. "I thought that was one of the steps you could skip."

"It is absolutely not one of the steps you can skip," they say, pulling a roll of gauze out of their inventory. They begin dressing the cut, winding the gauze tightly around Pearl's leg. "Are you seriously going to go back to your Rapunzel tower after this? I was joking earlier, but that really is going to be a pain if you can hardly even walk straight."

Pearl just shrugs. She's sitting up, fingers burrowing into the dirt, her injured leg stretched out across Cleo's lap and the other tucked underneath her body. "Don't have anywhere else to go, do I?"

"What about Martyn? You two seemed pretty chummy on your first day."

"More like my first hour. Did you miss the part where he left me all alone in the woods?"

Cleo, again, doesn't know what to do with the bitterness in Pearl's tone. With Pearl just- here, so close to Cleo, her sword abandoned in the mines and Cleo's own blade resting in its hilt between them. With the longing written on her face, and the hurt bubbling up to the surface.

"Maybe," they say, faux-casually, "you could come up to the ravine with me. Just until your leg heals. It'd annoy Scott," they add, almost panicked, as Pearl's big shining puppy eyes stare unblinking into their own. "It'd annoy the shit out of Scott."

"Yeah." Pearl smiles wide; her sharp teeth flash in the low light. Cleo suppresses a shiver. "I'm down with that."

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey buisness - john shelby x reader (part 2 of ?)

read part one here!

a/n: hey loves! i'm finishing up school rn, but i had to get this out and i'm about to start working on a tommy request immediately after i upload this. anyways, i'm so excited to post this series, it's incredible and i can't thank my bestie @stxdyblr-2k enough. she is a fucking genius :)

prompt: you can't get john out of your head. lo and behold, here he is.

warnings: fluff, mentions of smut, angsty af, soft john (ugh my heart)

Despite your best efforts, you'd been unable to stop yourself yearning for John Shelby. Your pokey flat now often lay empty; you were far too busy to mope at home due to your career as a personal assistant to a local solicitor who was allied with the Shelby's, attending rallies and lectures with Ada and the drunken nights you'd spend at various mansions, galleries and club openings with the "razor chasers" you'd become friendly with due to their refusal to leave Ada alone. Yet still, in those odd seconds of calm you seized over a cigarette, the first seconds after a bump of Tokyo, when you carefully applied your makeup, styled your hair or bathed, you'd think of him. The way the pads of his fingertips felt on your skin, how he’d muttered in your ear how pretty you looked.

But this was different to when you were dreaming about John at 15; he was no longer the allusive older brother of Ada who had a string of beautiful girls on rotation. He wasn’t a fantasy anymore. He was true flesh and blood, and for a moment he had wanted you.

It would be delicious if the whole situation hadn't left a bitter taste in your mouth. Of course you came back to Brum to only immediately fuck it up. The first night, and already you were so close to ruining everything? Looking back, now that you were so close with Ada once more, now that you knew who John had grown to be, that night was cringe inducing. Luckily, no one had seemed to catch on. Luckily, you thrived in the Small Heath rumour mill once again. All the gossip about you was mainly about your substance use, the lads you were seen curling up with outside nightclubs, your intelligence, your helpful nature, sometimes your questionable politics but that was all. John's was far darker, stories of blood, death and gasoline. Recently, the tales of his conquests had quietened, but only due to the lurid delight taken by the factory workers in talking about the recent blinding of some poor fucker who'd crossed the wrong person. Obviously, a lot of the detail had to be exaggerated for shock value and to boost the Shelby status, solidifying them as notorious throughout Birmingham city and its rural surroundings. There were murmurs everywhere about the violent John Shelby: ruthless, cocky, vengeful. It seemed impossible that the same man who cracked shit jokes just to see you smile, kissed you with so much desperation, and prioritised getting you off first could cause such harm without an ounce of guilt or shame to slow his swagger.

Whispers of war were far more constant, but then again, people would say anything for a reaction. You didn't bring it up with Ada. You refused to (openly) partake in mindless gossip on principle, yet you were hungry for information about him.

***********

You'd long forgotten whose wedding you were at. Some loyal blinder, a close friend of the Shelby's, the occasion calling for a large white marquee to be built onto one of Tommy's gardens, fully staffed with the best chef and service team money could buy (from a London restaurant at short notice; when Finn told you the extortionate figure Tommy had paid, your jaw had dropped). The cake, dress and decorations were stunning; you weren't sure exactly what the groom had done for the Shelby's but you could only assume the worst for what they'd splashed out on him.

However, thinking like that only spoilt your night: you'd realised at your fifth club takeover, now you repeated it like a mantra constantly. You'd quickly learnt every excess the Shelby's granted to those outside their circle were due to some perceived sacrifice for being associated with them. Well, that's what you chose to believe after John had sent a junior blinder to your office with a bouquet, the Monday morning after he turned you down. So, it was best to smile and take the shit, get paid, and get out as soon as possible. You were to keep your head down until then.

Yet, keeping your head down was difficult tonight. Ada had treated you to a shopping trip to London for the occasion this morning, Arthur forcing the junior blinders to tag along next to you on the train and trailing less than two metres behind you for hours. You missed the days when it was just you and Ada. It was far more simple without the stares whenever the two of you stepped out. Ada had gotten used to it, she'd devised her own methods of being completely alone; complex plans involving leaving a window open, knotting sheets into a rope and twisting her ankles. Not that she minded, she reckoned the suffocation of being a Shelby was much worse than a few bruised ankles.

You were wearing a clingy emerald green dress from some fancy French boutique you couldn't even pronounce, the diamond necklace sitting along your collarbone and the jewels dangling through your ears were on loan from Ada. You felt eyes unpicking you the moment you entered the after-party. Your arm was linked through Ada's as per usual, she looked equally stylish in a peacock blue number that set off her eyes, her delicate features perfected with makeup.

You'd quickly found your gaggle and began drinking and dancing the night away. Whispers about snow arose from your table, people disappearing to the toilets to rail a line on the bathroom counter, then to the dance floor or to the lap of the poor fucker who'd hold back their hair while they vomited in just a few hours. At least the Blinders were polite about it. Isaiah would kill them if they weren’t. You'd let your arm be tugged on various bathroom trips, treated among your group like secret missions although you weren't entirely subtle about it.

What you weren't aware of was across the marquee, you were being watched by the three men in your life who you'd never want to see you in this state: the Shelby's.

"Looks like Finn's taken your spot, John." Arthur yelled in John's ear over the loud music, gesturing to the youngest Shelby sat at the table next to you who was staring up at you in complete adoration as you chatted across him to Michael, seemingly arguing with him. By the looks of it, you were winning.

John pulled a face at Arthur. “Fuck off, old man. That'll never happen. Finn’s too young for her." He immediately regretted the words that had fallen out of his mouth, revealing far too much for his comfort.

"It's not impossible."

"He's just not right for her, yeah?"

"And you are?"

John didn't bother to bless him with a verbal response, instead flipping him off and downing the rest of his whiskey. "It's not like that."

"What's it like then? Because from where I'm sitting, it's pretty fucking clear, John." Arthur slurred, glass of whiskey sloshing onto his sleeve.

"You're too gone to even know you're chatting shit." John sneered, standing up, "I'm off for a smoke and some fresh air. Try not to fuck anything in my absence, both of you."

His brothers cursed him out as he left. John took a second to figure out his route, purposefully having to cross your path, gesturing for you to follow him subtly. He was surprised you came trailing after him, telling Michael that you weren’t done yelling at him and you’d be back. When you were both only metres from the marquee, he knew you were fucked. You were instantly bored, begging him for a cigarette, which he lit for you, shaking his head at your state.

"You're a fucking mess, love." He said, mouth sloping attractively to one side.

"Takes one to know one, John-boy. Where are we off to, then?"

"Somewhere fucking quiet, can barely hear myself think. Plus, you need to sober the fuck up, lass." He said, softly, as he walked across the dew soaked grass. You followed, heels in hand, holding your dress up as not to ruin it. He sighed, taking the shoes from your hands and wrapping his blazer around your shoulders, linking your arm through his for stability. He kept the distance respectful, but there wasn’t any denying the thick tension in the summer air between the two of you. Ahead, there was a small stone bench sat at the foot of one of Thomas' manicured gardens, and John offered his hand to help you sit. You made small talk and caught up on each other's lives, and you noted John only seemed to glow when you asked about his kids. He talked at length, the drink seemingly unhinging his jaw. There he was again, the John you knew and had admired for so many years. You could sit here forever, watching his blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight. Yet, it just wasn’t meant to be. You wished you could stop time just for a bit, give you enough moments to memorize the freckles on his skin.

"You know the night I first came home?" The alcohol and snow had loosened your lips. You were teetering on the edge of your boundaries, but you couldn't care enough to hold back.

"The night where absolutely nothing happened?" He joked, raising an eyebrow at you, cautious that you'd randomly brought it up in your state. "Sweetheart, this can wait."

He was warning you. For a second you managed to bite your tongue, but curiosity tipped you over the edge.

"But something nearly happened, right?"

"Y/N. Don't." He warned, his tone icy, suddenly distancing from you, hiding between an emotional boundary which he didn't wish to explore.

"John, it's just us. Can't we even talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about, though. You were off your face then, and now. That's fine. We know where we stand. It can't happen."

"I wanted to. I do want to."

"You don't. Trust me. You need a nice lad who'll marry you and look after you. Just need to keep your nose clean long enough yeah?" He teased, trying to lighten the mood, blue eyes begging you to move on.

Your head turned to face him, your face contorting in a mixture of confusion and irritation. "You don't get to tell me what I want or need. The last thing I want is to marry any lad, nice or not."

"I didn't mean it like that, right? Look, I just meant you deserve better than Shelby scum. You're going places you know? Don't settle for Small Heath." John responded with a pained sigh. He didn’t want to get into it with you; not here, not like this. He'd thought about it, naturally. You were constantly on his mind, yet only problems ever seemed to appear, never solutions. It was best for him to avoid you. Why the fuck did he drag you out here? Horrible idea.

"Your family isn't scum. Where the fuck did you get that from?" Your face was screwed up in genuine rage. "I-"

"Y/N, fuckin’ leave it."

His face had hardened completely now. He'd snapped at you. His voice hadn't raised, it was just the power he spat his order out with. You held up your hands in mock surrender, pointedly taking a cigarette from his front pocket and light it silently, not saying a word.

"Why are you so bothered, anyways?" He asked, breaking the silence like you knew he would. John always had to ask questions.

"Fuck off with that, John. I'm not in the mood."

"What do you mean?" He looked completely lost.

"We nearly had sex. Just sex, nothing else right?"

John remained silent.

"Would it be the worst thing in the world?" You asked, your voice wavering. It was hard enough to get the words out, let alone imagine the response.

"You're far too wasted to chat about this, love."

"John, I’m not-"

"I'm serious. You're fucking mashed like my brothers aren't you? Like all those other fuckers in there." He sounded genuinely angry. In the glow of the sunset he looked so much younger, so hurt and lonely. Why hadn't you noticed before?

He turned to you, eyes widened and shocked at his own outburst. "You're not the only one gone yeah? Ignore me, I'm fucked, sorry."

You reached out your hand and linked your fingers through his in silence, the warm evening wind ruffling your hair and dress, blocked from your skin by John's suit jacket which was wrapped around your shoulders. Not that anyone would notice or care. As long as Ada wasn't with you, you could disappear for hours without any alarm. There you sat in the tranquil last few moments of the day, your hand linked with John's, both beyond tipsy. You weren’t thinking properly but it felt right. You felt safe. You didn't want to have to return to the chaos of the party, to have to catch up on who your friends were currently trying to screw. None of that seemed to matter anymore.

Was it too much to ask for something to be simple? Maybe you didn't have to fuck him. Maybe just these small moments were enough. You laughed at the thought when it crossed your mind; neither you nor John were known for consistency or stability in relationships, you being admittedly rather inexperienced, only having been with a few men, and he had his fair share of escapades. But he was just so different. You wouldn't admit that he'd gotten your attention in any way than purely sexually (which surprised you to admit) and for fun, but you genuinely enjoyed his presence.

He was right though. It wasn't a good idea at all to hook up. There was far too much baggage for both of you to make it worth it.

Just once?

You glanced over at John. He rolled his eyes at you, but the edges of his lips were slightly upturned, his dimples faintly peeking through his defined cheeks.

Just once couldn't hurt.

***

The sky was streaked with shades of gold, amber and blood. John could feel the friction from your knee barely knocking against his, the pressure putting him on edge. In fairness, he had drunk heavily, and that's what happens when you let your guard down around beautiful women. He couldn't believe you had told him you wanted to have sex with him still. He'd chalked the whole situation down to a drunken mistake that would have progressed into a far more significant drunken mistake. Ada would never forgive him if he went for another of her mates. Especially Y/N. No matter if he said that Y/N could be different, that you wasn't just another conquest. But who'd believe him?

Far better to keep his mouth shut.

Far better to play safe.

As you were called back to the party by the gaggle of girls John vaguely recognised from hanging off the arms of other blinders, he realised (despite his state) that you were right. Having sex with you wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. In fact, it might be one of the best.

Just once?

He watched your figure disappear back into the marquee, waiting for you to turn back and look for him. You do. He would have done the same if it was him.

Maybe just once wouldn't hurt.

***

to be continued!

[starshipsofstarlord]

Could I request a Jaskier x female reader where the reader is a princess who during daylight, is condemned to be a bear, after being cursed by an evil sorcerer At night she become a human again. Which the curse can only be broken by a man (who would be Jaskier) who pledges his heart solely to the reader (something like true love’s kiss). Please and thank you!!!

Bruin

jaskier x reader

masterlist

Warnings; mentions of witcher killing, mentions of death and angst, curses, nudity, some fluff, implied smut

“G-Geralt.” Jaskier’s voice shivered, as he saw a great mountain of brunette fur, wading through the long grass, heavy breathing exhibiting from its wet snout. “There’s a bear!”

“If you’re that scared, try to speak quieter.” The Witcher’s speech remained monotone, as he continued walking, leaving the bard to catch up with his hardy footsteps. “We need to leave before nightfall, that is when the true monster is unleashed from the bruin vessel.”

“You kill monsters, we’ll be fine.” The bard waved off, though he was terrified, and Geralt was all but convinced with his dismissal. “We will, won’t we Geralt?”

“It’s bad luck to remain out here at night, it’s an old wives tale, however, no one survives the night out here. Not after the disappearance of the princess of Arafell.” Jaskier remembered that tale, he had even seen the princess at a banquet once when they were both young in age.

Neither of them had the opportunity to converse with one another that evening, it was the night she had ran away. and he certainly had regretted never asking her dance. Before that though, they had often strode through the gardens hand in hand, conversing on the beauty of the petals that veiled around the stems, and she, unlike most people, listened to his descriptive forms of poetry. Back then, he had been shy, and not to mention, she was of sought after royal blood. That evening was the last that anyone from the kingdom had ever been seen, after the slumber of eternity wept over their souls. One thing he severely remembered though, was that she loved dandelions.

The princess had ran away, leaving the king and queen in search of someone that could find her, and thus they hired a private sorcerer to complete their wishes. But instead of seeking out the lost girl, the old man took the gold and the lives of old, wallowing the land in distress that clambered into a delving of madness.

A shout bellowed from the bear, and Jaskier found him to “How long will it be til we reach the borders?”

“The bad luck will loom over us Jaskier, we will not make it out of here in the span of the next countless hours. There will be a moon in the sky, but perhaps we’ll be able to seek out cover in the old guard’s tower.”

“Where are we Geralt?” The brown haired poet feared to be met with the answer “What makes you think that we’ll survive the night?!”

“This is what remains of Arafell.” Stated the white haired hunter, as he continued to plod through the thick foliage beneath his dark boots. He stepped on the dull green life form, not encouraged to pursue any further into the depths as he heard the destination that they were travelling through.

“Arafell, great.” Huffed the irritating bard, clutching his lute as he spoke the haunting name. “There’s no need to be afraid, when you’re in the land of torn bodies, because the witcher is by your side. He’ll slash and dice, protect the mice, from the darkness that falls from above. The people are dead, I am filled with dread, in the land of Ar-afellll.”

“Stop singing.” Whenever there was any fault present in their adventures together, Jaskier had a tendency, wallowing similar like a pie without filling to sing. It shrouded Geralt with epitomised frustration, his betrothed follower sure knew how to pull his strings, it was as though he were a moral lute, a practice run of socialisation for the noble’s son.

“Sorry.” Apologised the traveller, with a shrug encompassed by a spark of coldness affecting his posture. There was a breeze, filled with the pinching of icicles in the air, and it clawed through his clothes, clashing with the meat blanketed warmth of his bones. “It’s just- we’re in bloody Arafell, or what remains of it, and you are so calm. Have you maybe perhaps forgotten what happened here?!”

“No. I was here when it queen Ara and her kingdom fell. And that bear has lurked every inch of these demolished castle lands searching for scraps, and if you cannot tell, it is almost night fall, and she has come up sufficiently short of anything, for all these decades.”

The listener frowned, bears did not live so long. It was a curious prospect, it remained loyal to these grounds, although it was empty. There had to be a reason why, a pattern that supposed why it, or she as Geralt had divulged, remained to lurk in the midst of the overgrown forestry. And then another thought (yes, Jaskier had the ability to do that despite what his protective travel mate may have wondered), hit him, like a bolt of lightning.

“Um, Geralt, where is the bear?” He gulped, hearing the rustling of the thick foliage metres behind them. The moon scourged the sky with its global presence, inducing another shot of ambient fear through Jaskier’s veins. “It was-“

“Shut up a moment.” It was almost impossible half the time to silence Jaskier, but this time, he actually obliged the command. Geralt drew his sword, the one that glistened a predominate silver and was made from the compound, clutching the handle in his vice and skilled grip, as his feet took him closer to the imposter that was imbedded within the weeds.

“Oh.” Jaskier covered his eyes, he couldn’t look as Geralt pointed the weapon at the beasts throat; a whimper escaped it as Geralt took a step back, alerting his companion. “Kill it Geralt, it’s a bear, it’s going to kill us.”

“It was a bear.” Geralt elaborated as he watched the beast transform and lose its course coat of brown fur, turning into a less monstrous beast. It was only a girl, with unruly and wild hair that was matted in all directions, her face contorted into fear. “Of whom are you, my lady?”

“A witcher.” It trailed from her lips as a whisper, her tone alerting Jaskier that it indeed was not a bear, rather it was a woman, laid on the forest ground, in nothing but her own layers of skin. His eyes widened for a moment, until he earned an elbow in the rib from his friend for his long and convicted ogling. “I have only heard legends but...

“You speak english?” Jaskier wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, hinting at his subsequent misunderstanding of the situation. “but you were a bear?!” This was all growing more confusion with each passing second, there were too many angles of the world.

“I’m cursed.” It was an easy consequence to admit, for the lady of the worlds already lived through them. “Each day, I am forced to pad about in the brute body of a bruin, a sorcerer brought by darkness himself to this dimension damned me to this abomination, his name was-“

“Lament.” From hearing that name, the woman on the ground was taken aback as the women, trying to prevail some decency, attempted to cover her breasts with her arms, as she crossed her legs over one another. “Your parents sent me to find you, lady. I came up empty handed in my search for you, there was no trail that I managed to find, nothing that would point in your direction. And that night, as I returned with short of nothing of any news of your whereabouts, Lament was there.”

“He killed them all, didn’t he. My family?” The answer didn’t require any verification from Geralt, the solemn, yet usual expression on the Witcher’s face was all the confirmation that she needed. “Of course he did, he’s a poisonous shadow, when he finds something he wants, he takes away its home, so that it can’t run back to the hearth whence it came from. I regret every running away from home...”

“Wait a moment.” This was all beginning to add up in some mind boggling way. Jaskier flitted his gaze aside for a moment as Geralt pulled a fine blanket from his luggage, knowingly seeing the movement out of the corner of his curious eye that she was pulling the material that conducted warmth over her shoulders, and across her sachet of flaunted skin.

"Shut up Jaskier." Instantaneously stated the bard, whom had returned his cerulean gaze back upon the y/h/c woman, depositing a composition of interest to her form.

"You're the princess of Arafell, aren't you. Y/n, it's you, isn't it?" Y/n's expression was one of shock; how did this man know of her identity? She understood how the witcher did, though with considering he was condemned with the duty of finding her. The brunette man was slightly familiar, and so he revealed why that was. “it’s Julian.” Jaskier held his hand to his chest, almost hurt that you didn’t recognise him, but it had been years, so many, none of which had been kind to you. “My name is Julian Alfred Pankratz.”

“Dandelion!” The reprised title spun from y/n's tongue, remembering the nickname that she had given the now gentleman all those years ago, when he was nothing more than a persisting boy that made her flash an unashamed laughter in the midst of poised quality showrooms of noble gatherings. "I remember you." She dwelled on the fact, if she weren't clothed in only a shrill and frayed blanket that was pebbled with small dots of soil, from where it had been laid on the ground, y/n surely would have jumped up and spun her arms around his 'sexy goose' neck.

"You've got to be kidding me, it is just my luck that the pair of you know each other." Geralt crossed his arms, shaking his sleek silver head, being deprived of attention as he spoke. "Is there any way to get yourself out to get you out of this prospected curse of turning into a bear, y/n?"

"To be betrothed to a man, confirmed with a kiss resonating true love, though, nobody with any sense would put themselves in that position for me, there is no wealth to my name anymore, nor is there relevance with my heritage, for there is nothing that remains, as you have confirmed for me. This man must certainly be one of a kind, for he has to pledge his loyalty solely to me, forbidding himself from ever being with another woman again."

The mention of a lack of sense reminded Geralt of one man in particular, and he was stood right beside him. But it couldn't have been Jaskier, of all people, and- Geralt found himself overcome with dread as the bard stepped forward, crunching his shoed feet into the withered grass, closer to the rediscovered princess.

"I have waited my whole life to see you again." Oh god, here he went, Geralt thought. "When we were younger, I was infatuated with you, and here we are, united again in a union. If my betrothal means nothing then you will remain in this shrine of gloom, but to me, it would mean everything to me."

"Y/N come on, have some sense, it-" There was lack of reason for Geralt to continue speaking, as y/n sprung up, the blanket flowing down from her shoulders, baring her body cold to the crisp air, as her hands clasped both sides of Jaskier's face, and pressed her lips to his.

The witcher cringed, turning away as the pair practically ate the other's face, like starved animals that had been distanced for many years, which in their case was true. "Do you know if the curse is broken, is there any indicator if so?"

A hum fell from y/n's mouth as Jaskier's hand traced the curve of her spine, causing Geralt to scoff. That was the only response he earned, and to a high stake, it disgusted him. "I think I'm just gonna let you two have some time to yourselves, I guess we will see in the morning if you're being mawled by a bear you flippant."

And thus he walked away, leaving the two to pursue their primitive instincts, under the blessed moon, and on the routed curfew on the dark and dead land of Arafell.

[irishseeeker]

                      row, row, row your boat with ferocious jealously 

Kate Sharma is taking a boat ride with a man that isn’t him. Anthony Bridgerton decides he doesn’t quite like that.

---

Anthony Bridgerton was livid.

“Anthony.”

“Anthony?”

“What?” Anthony snapped, his tone harsher than intended as he snapped his head away from the source of his rage and back to look at his pestering brothers.

Benedict, frowning at his brother’s harsh tone, raised an eyebrow. “What on earth are you glaring at?”

Colin was smirking triumphantly over the glass in his hand, which made Anthony want to throttle him more. “I wonder what our dear brother could be glaring at. Or should I say-who.”

The widest lopsided grin spread out on Ben’s face.

Benedict, the traitor, quickly caught on as he followed Anthony and Colin’s eyeline to where Kate Sharma herself, dressed in a dark purple dress that made her brown skin glow and his legs weak, was talking to him. No-she was laughing with him. He couldn’t possibly be that funny.

Was it a pity laugh? Surely it was a pity laugh.

Anthony had never hated a man so much in his life as he hated William Trent. He was the second son of an Earl and Anthony had spoken to him a few times at Whites. Anthony didn’t know him well at all, he had been in Benedict’s year at Eton and Oxford and they had only met a handful of times.

Anthony still despised him.

Since when had he been courting Kate? Anthony couldn’t have possibly missed news that significant. He came from a family of gossips who would have said something, he attended most of the same balls as Kate did-he didn’t recall them dancing, much less speaking.

Kate’s ring of laughter rang through the air and it was like a knife to the chest, puncturing every bit of sense he had left in him. Anthony didn’t care much for sense at that moment.

All he knew was he wanted to be the one to make her laugh.

That fact itself rather terrified him.

“What do you think of Trent, Ben?” Colin’s teasing tone wasn’t lost on Anthony and he was this close to getting thrown into the river that was a few metres away from them.

“I rather like him. We went to Eton and Oxford together. Decent. Funny,” Benedict drawled, his lopsided grin close to falling off his face as it was stretched so widely. “Very popular with ladies, I believe.”

Anthony was clenching his jaw so hard, it began to ache. His grip was so tight on his wine glass, it was close to smashing in his hands. “I hope you two are enjoying yourselves.”

“Oh brother,” Colin said, patting his eldest brother on the shoulder with the same, teasing grin. “We truly are.”

This was ridiculous. He didn’t want to come today. The last place he wanted to be was at a full of young ladies on the marriage mart, their families and potential suitors. He had to come, as he is meant to be courting and finding a wife. He was also the head of his household. He was meant to be courting Edwina.

Edwina.

Anthony hadn’t thought about her since they had briefly greeted each other when they arrived. All he could think about, from the moment he saw Kate and her head full of bouncy, dark curls , was her. How much he wanted to wrap one of those curls around his fingers and pull her away, behind a tree and-

No.

He had to stop this. This endless torture of imagining things that would never be. He had already chosen a wife. Kate had dragged her sister off just as Anthony and his brothers greeted the Sharma women.

Kate had barely looked at him as she said those two words, “My lord,” that made the hairs on his arms stick up and an uncomfortable warm feeling spread through his stomach.

Those feelings only ever happened when she spoke to him.

He wanted her to whisper them in his ear while he had his way with her. He wanted her to whisper them in his ear in their bed. He wanted her to whisper them in his ear while she was sat on his lap, dancing in his arms, for the rest of their bloody lives-

“It looks like Miss Sharma is going for a boat ride down the river.”

Colin’s voice snapped Anthony out of his dangerous thoughts and the fury quickly spread through Anthony’s entire body as he watched Kate take that bastard’s hand and walk towards the boats that were lined up along the bank of the river.

Not on his bloody watch.

“What an excellent idea,” Anthony said, shoving his glass into his brother’s chest as he clapped his hands, looking around for Edwina. “I’ll go find Miss Sharma.”

“I believe Miss Edwina Sharma has already been escorted into a boat.” Benedict chimed in, gesturing towards a boat that was being rowed by a man Anthony couldn’t recognize.

Shit.

Anthony had to act fast. He had to ask a young lady quickly to take a boat ride with him so he could catch up with Kate. He would row the bloody English channel just to find out what they were speaking out and what was so bloody funny about Trent.

He scanned the crowd around them, most of the young ladies beaming at him but he struggled to put a name to most of their faces. He needed someone he could tolerate, that didn’t talk too much and someone that wouldn’t make him want to drown himself more than he already wanted to at the thought of Kate and that imbecile rowing along the river together.

He left his brothers, making his way through the crowds and spotting a few familiar faces. He nodded his head in greeting as people spoke to him, hastily turning around as he spotted Cressida Cowper and her mother making a beeline for him.

Colin had once compared them to the Queen’s yapping little dogs that never seemed to shut up and follow you everywhere and Anthony struggled to not laugh every time he had the displeasure of making their acquaintance.

There were many things Anthony would do to get closer to Kate Sharma and that man but trapping himself in a boat with Cressida Cowper would not be one of them.

He didn’t like bullies.

There, standing in a shockingly blinding bright yellow dress with embroidered sequins, was his saving grace.

Penelope Fetherington.

“Miss Fetherington,” Anthony said, slightly out of his breath as he approached her, bowing his head. “Would you do me the honour of accompanying me for a boat ride along the river?”

He felt slightly guilty, noticing she was alone and looking uncomfortable. Eloise was sick at home in bed, she had made her first season quite the strain on their family with her habit of complaining about everything and unwillingness to participate in anything.

“My Lord,” Penelope squealed, her round cheeks darkening as she bowed her head. “Oh! That is very kind of you. But-well, you don’t have to. I’m really okay. If your mother-”

“I want to,” Anthony said quickly, the guilt growing inside of him as she spoke. No one should have to feel as if they’ve only been asked because someone’s mother forced them to. Even if his intentions weren’t honourable, he’d try harder to make sure she didn’t feel like that. “Do I seem to you like a man who does what he doesn’t want to do?”

Penelope’s anxious expression faded slowly into a relaxed one, a small smile appearing on her face. “I would love to, my lord.”

“I will admit, Miss Fetherington,” Anthony spoke quietly to her, offering her his arm as they made their way to the river bank. Anthony pushed people out of the way until they were right behind Kate and William. “I do enjoy boat rides. However, I needed to escape the preying mothers and their daughters on the bank. My mother would have pushed me onto a boat if I didn’t pick a suitable young lady and I couldn’t have picked better company.

Penelope’s giggle, which was louder than expected, caught the attention of Kate, Trent, Cressida Cowper, another gentlemen Anthony hadn’t met and of course-Colin.

Colin, who had wormed his way into a conversation with Kate and Trent and grinning mischievously at his brother as he did so. Benedict had been wise enough to stay away.

“Viscount Bridgerton.” Trent said quickly, smiling and bowing his head as he addressed him. Anthony’s bow was stiff in return.

“Good afternoon,” Anthony said stiffly, feigning slight confusion and real distaste as he stared at him. He wasn’t very impressive up close. His jacket looked cheap and his hat was slightly wonky. Anthony surely didn't have anything to worry about. This man didn’t look funny. “Have we met?”

It was rude, but Anthony couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He chose to ignore Colin’s loud snort from beside him as well.

“William Trent, my Lord.” He said, blushing slightly as he shook Anthony’s hand while he pushed his shoulders back and stood up straighter. He looked scared. Anthony knew instantly he wasn’t a good fit for Kate. She would walk all over him. Anthony relished in how intimidating he could be sometimes. “May I introduce-“

Anthony could feel his blood boiling. How dare he. The hand that was free from Penelope’s arm curled into a fist, he knew the expression on his face was thunderous. No one had to introduce Kate to him. No one. If anything, he should be the one introducing Kate to people. That should be his job. Except it wasn’t and it could never be. “There is no introduction necessary. Good Afternoon, Miss Sharma.”

“Lord Bridgerton.” She said plainly, frowning slightly at him. Her voice and frown, and those two words once again, having an exhilarating effect on him like nothing else has before.

Anthony’s manners quickly made themselves known as he turned to Penelope. “May I introduce Penelope Fetherington?”

“Sir,” Penelope said kindly, bowing her head. “Kate.” Her smile was much wider as she greeted her. Kate’s smile and something inside of his stomach twisted.

“Lord Bridgerton,” A voice from beside them piped up, belonging to, unfortunately, Cressida Cowper. “I would be happy to accompany you on the river. Sir Byrne will take Penelope off your hands-”

“I don’t believe I asked you, Miss Cowper,” Anthony said sharply, turning to glare at the intruder who had wiped the smile Anthony had been staring at right off Kate’s face. “I believe I asked Miss Fetherington.”

That shut her right up. Anthony didn’t like to think too badly of ladies of the ton but Cressida Cowper was truly unpleasant. That was the nicest word he could think of that wasn’t severely inappropriate.

“But, Miss Cowper,” Anthony said, his revenge so sweet he couldn’t help the smile breaking out on his face. “My brother Colin would be happy to accompany you.”

The colour drained right out of Colin’s face.

Anthony couldn’t help but glance at Kate, who caught his eye before looking down at the ground, desperately fighting off a smile.

Anthony clapped his brother’s shoulder as they moved towards the bank of the river where footmen had set up the boats for the passengers. He moved quickly to make sure they got the boat right beside and behind Kate and Trent. Kate and Trent were saying something quietly but Anthony could see the smile on her face and it infuriated him more.

It wasn’t that he didn’t expect Kate to have suitors. How could she not? She may be different to some ladies of the ton but everything different about her made her stand out from the rest. Not to mention, she was absolutely beautiful. He couldn’t stand in a room with her lately without glancing at her every ten seconds.

Any man would be a fool not to want her. Of course she was going to be courted.

He just wished she wasn’t.

He had no right to, he shouldn’t, but he did anyway.

Trent, the incompetent idiot, was caught in a conversation with a man on the bank. Kate, of course, took it upon herself to get herself into the boat.

“Be careful.” Anthony said, jumping at the opportunity to offer her his hand after he helped Penelope into their boat. Kate stared at his hand for a moment, before, begrudgingly, accepting it and stepping into the boat.

“Thank you.” She said stiffly, avoiding eye-contact as she settled into the boat. The moment their hands touched, her touch erupted a sensation that traveled from the top of his fingers, all the way up his arm and into his chest. This was seriously getting out of hand. Anthony needed to get himself together.

“Enjoy your boat ride,” He said quietly, noticing out of the corner of his eye Trent was finishing up his conversation. “Kate.” Anthony made his way back to his boat, smiling briefly at Penelope as they waited for Trent to begin rowing so Anthony could quickly follow.

Once they started moving, Anthony had a small swearing fit under his breath but the chances of Penelope hearing his language was quite high. Another boat had pulled out in front of them and separated them from Kate and Trent. Anthony was manically rowing to try to catch up with them up the river and his arms were beginning to ache.

Penelope spoke up. “I was sorry to hear about Eloise. I hope she is feeling better soon.”

Anthony didn’t miss the sly smile on Penelope’s face, which momentarily distracted him from glaring over at Kate and Trent’s boat. “I would be willing to bet the deed to Bridgerton House that Eloise has made a miraculous recovery by this evening.”

Penelope laughed. Anthony couldn’t help but join in.

“I apologize,” Anthony said, both of them sharing a smile that his apology wasn’t sincere at all. They both knew Eloise quite well. “Betting is not an appropriate topic to discuss with a young lady.”

“Please do not apologize, my lord.” Penelope said, smoothing out the bright yellow skirt of her dress and fidgeting with a few beads.

“We have known each other for a long time, Penelope. Please, call me Anthony.”

“Okay, Anthony,” Penelope said slowly, testing out the name before smiling shyly. “I will not say anything. What happens on this boat, stays on this boat.”

Anthony quirked an eyebrow at her before returning back to glaring at Kate’s boat. He couldn’t help that his attention drifted there. He didn’t mean to be rude but he was just dying to know what they were talking about. He could see Trent rowing, and Kate laughing, and he couldn’t help the ache in his chest that he wished it was him.

“I do hope Miss Sharma is okay.”

Anthony looked back at Penelope, his arms slowing down slightly as they were really beginning to ache. He didn’t want to seem too obvious in his endeavours to get closer to Kate but he would be willing to capsize the boat between them to get closer to her. “I believe I saw Miss Sharma get on a boat earlier, with a gentleman I didn’t see. Is there a reason she wouldn’t be alright?”

Surely Kate wouldn’t have got on a boat if Edwina was ill or in some sort of trouble. Kate was always by her sister’s side, looking out for her. It was one of her traits Anthony admired the most.

“I didn’t mean Edwina.”

They briefly stared at each other in silence, an awful sinking feeling in Anthony’s stomach settling in as if he had been caught in the middle of an act. Subtly had never been his greatest form. If Penelope knew what Anthony was thinking, who was he thinking about, what he was trying to do-well, he was screwed.

“I was speaking with Kate earlier and well, she is not too fond of boats,” Penelope said, glancing upwards as they rowed under an oak tree. “I’ve always enjoyed the water. Kate, however, doesn’t. The movement makes her feel quite sick. I believe she tried to avoid a boat trip but Mr. Trent was quite persistent.”

It was as if the clouds had cleared and the storm inside of him had faded away, making way for the sun to shine brightly through.

Anthony tried very hard to smile. He focused on pulling each oar back and forth to hide his smile but he wasn’t having much luck. Kate was with him out of pity. Kate hated boat rides and she was probably miserable a few metres ahead of them, desperately wishing to be anywhere but on a boat with Trent.

A man who had to beg a lady to do something she didn’t want to do wasn’t the right man for her.

He wasn’t the right man for Kate.

“I hope the experience isn’t too unpleasant for her.” He said idly, desperate to keep up some sort of calm, cool and collected façade that he wasn’t thrilled to hear the news. The boat ride was actually quite pleasant, they chatted away while Anthony picked up the pace to make sure they were behind Kate and Trent as they pulled back into the bank of the river.

Anthony stood up and helped Penelope out of the boat herself, waving off the footman and smiling as she bowed. “Thank you so much for a lovely afternoon, my lord.”

“Anthony.”

“Anthony.” Penelope blushed slightly, her eyes catching something behind him. Anthony turned around to see a rather flustered Colin, desperately rowing and splashing to make his way to the back with a very displeased Cressida Cowper. Penelope bowed her head again before turning around and walking back towards her family’s tent, to her very pleased looking mother who was pretending she hadn’t been watching them the entire time.

“That was nice of you. To ask Penelope.” The voice next to him, one he could recognize in a crowd full of people, caught him by surprise as he turned around to see Kate Sharma beside him. She wasn’t glaring at him like she usually was, which was an excellent start.

“I like Penelope. I know this may come as a shock to you, Miss Sharma,” He said teasingly, the smirk on his lips the most genuine and amused all day. “On the rare occasion, I can be nice.”

To Anthony’s surprise, Kate laughed. The low, joyful laugh was like Christmas to him, flooding his veins with dopamine like no other. He never wanted to stop hearing it.

Anthony made her laugh.

It was the best feeling in the world.

He was secretly thrilled she approved of him inviting Penelope. He didn’t know why, but he had found himself lately needing her approval. He was desperate for it.

Kate’s eyes darted around them before landing back on him, quickly bowing her head. “Well, I will see you at your ball tomorrow evening.”

He bowed back, a small smile playing on his lips. “You will, Kate.”

“Well,” She said, gulping slightly as she fidgeted. She appeared flustered, her neck and cheeks reddening slightly. Anthony desperately wanting to kiss it away. “Good day Lord Bridgerton.”

“Anthony.” He quickly corrected her.

Kate wasn’t buying it. “My Lord.”

“Good day, Kate.”

He watched her nod her head before turning around, making her way back up the slight hill of the bank. He watched her fierce, bouncing girls fly in the wind until she disappeared into the crowd.

It was a good day, indeed.

[junicai]

too far.

| order no. | 3/21

| summary | With heightened tension reaching a peak, arguments are inevitable. Aria catches the short end of the stick.

| word count | 1.8k

| warnings | cursing (a lot of cursing, please be mindful)

| era | circa. 2016

a/n: mark + aria are still friends! when you're with someone nearly every day, in high stress environments and you're both teenagers - stuff like this just happens, so pls do not think that they hate each other, they don't!

The air felt sticky. 

It clung to her skin as she collapsed against the wall, fanning herself. 

The other members were in similar states; sweat-soaked t-shirts clinging to their lean bodies, some sitting against the mirrors, or, in Donghyuck’s case, sprawled across the floor. 

The choreographer had left three hours prior; coat thrown over his shoulder and bag fisted in his hand. The room had gone silent after he’d left, only broken by Taeyong’s sharp clap and a short yell to get them all into motion again.

It had been a long day, so they’d made more mistakes than usual. It wasn’t one single person; Donghyuck had stumbled over his own feet, Taeil had nearly come a cropper and face planted into the mirrors, even Yuta wasn’t dancing up to scratch.

But, for some reason, Aria felt like all the jabs were being sent her way.

“Aria! Watch that foot!”

“Your left, Aria! Your left!” 

“One, two! And a- fuck, Aria! Please, would you at least try!?” 

After nearly two hours of this from the choreographer, Aria was fit to scream. She was trying. It was a new routine, miles more difficult than anything they’d ever done before, and it was only their third practice.

She hadn’t slept, and hadn’t eaten yet, it was seven in the evening, and she wanted to go home. 

When the tears began pooling in her eyes from sheer exhaustion - both physical and emotional - they were expected, but no less appreciated. 

“You’ve got to be fucking joking me - Aria! Are you going to sit there and cry your way out of this? Really? You’re that lazy? You don’t care, do you? No, no you don’t. If you want to cry, you can get out. Go, get out.” The choreographer stood by the music, one finger on the pause button holding it down. 

His face was stony. “Oh? No?” 

Aria frantically wiped at her eyes, bowing and spewing apologies. “No, no sir. I do care, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” 

He rolled his eyes. “I’m calling it today. Have this for tomorrow, alright?” He sent a glare around the room of boys who wouldn’t meet his eyes. They nodded, and he exhaled, giving Aria one more glance over before marching out the door. 

The silence was stifling. It filled up Aria’s mouth with cotton balls. 

Taeyong sighed. “Let’s run it again, shall we?” 

The first half of the song ran smoothly. It was easy counts, nothing that Aria’d never done already, so she flew through it. Jaehyun stumbled midway, and he got a sharp look from Yuta, who he bumped into in an attempt to right himself, but no words were exchanged and the song didn’t stop. 

It wasn’t until the bridge section that things started to go wrong.

Sicheng was in the wrong place; Taeil brushed past him just in time to correct the formations. 

Donghyuck’s foot slid out from underneath him; he nearly kissed the floor had it not been for Mark’s hand snagging the back of his jumper and holding him up for long enough to regain his footing. 

Aria skidded out of a turn, shoes not gripping the spring flooring and sending her a metre out of her way, and right onto her back where she lay sprawled out, the air knocked from her chest.

The music cut out, and a hand was extended to help her up. She held up her own, and she was roughly tugged up from the ground, a cough leaving her chest at the treatment. 

Mark only blinked at her, turning away to get back into formation. 

Aria looked at the faces of the other members, confused, but only Yuta would meet her eyes, and he shrugged. “Tired?” He mouthed to her, and she could only nod in presumption. 

The song was played again from the beginning, and things started to go wrong from the very get go. 

Aria had slipped off her shoes, convinced that maybe the grip was gone from the soles, and she’d dance better in her socked feet. Her theory proved true for the first half minute, but when Sicheng went careening into her side, she was sent crashing into Mark’s back.

The trio of tangled limbs ended up on the floor in a heap. 

Sicheng extracted himself from the pile first, having been on the top, and he extended both his hands to Mark and Aria respectively to help them off the floor as well. 

Aria took the hand with a mumbled thanks, while Mark chose to ignore it and pushed himself roughly up from the ground. 

“Watch where you’re going, Aria.” He clipped her shoulder with his. 

Aria stumbled backwards slightly. “O-oh, sorry.” 

He sniffed at her, moving back to stand in his position. The song played again, and the pounding of feet against the floor knocked out any thoughts from Aria’s mind. 

That was, until her socks slid on the floor, and she crashed down again. 

“Aria!” A yell came from the other end of the pyramid shape the team had made. “For fucks sake can you not try for one second?” 

“Mark!” Taeyong’s rebuttal was taken aback, the leader staring at the boy with widened eyes.

“No no, don’t Mark, me.” Mark began, marching over to where Aria was still sitting on the floor. “If she’s not going to put a single ounce of effort into this practice, why the fuck is she here?” 

Donghyuck started towards the older boy. “Hyung, what-” 

He was held back by Johnny holding his elbow. “Mark! Knock it off.” 

Mark whirled around. “No! I’m tired, you’re tired, everyone here is tired, but we’re still running the same routine because someone here can’t stand on their own fucking two feet for half a second.” 

“Mark what did I do to you!?” Aria spoke up, brushing the non-existent dust from her leggings. “I fell - you fell earlier on and no one blew up on you.” 

“Yeah well at least some of us care enough to not try to dance in socks? Socks, really Aria. I know you’re still a child but jesus, have a bit of responsibility for one in your life, huh?” 

“The fuck does that mean?” Aria was yelling now. 

Taeyong and Jaehyun took a sharp intake of breath. Aria only swore when she was pissed and given how her face had reddened dramatically and the cruel glint that her eyes had undertaken, they were both nearly convinced that if Mark was to swing, she’d snap his arm in half. 

“Woah, woah. Mark, take a walk.” Yuta snapped, moving to stand in between the two younger members. Aria’s hands had started trembling, but her face was cold. 

“Maybe Aria here should take a walk. Go find the door and leave. Isn’t that what our choreographer told you to do? Get out? I think you should listen to him.”

“You have no fucking right saying that shit to me,” Aria snarled. 

Mark laughed, a cruel, cold sound. “Oh really? Did I hit a nerve, princess? The princess of NCT, such a shame she can’t dance to save a life. Should we put out a stool for you, so you can sit and look pretty for us?” 

“Hey!” Taeyong yelled, pulling Mark away. “Cool it. Yuta’s right, take a walk.” He pushed the younger boy towards the door, but Mark just walked right back to Aria. 

“You know, if you’re not going to fucking care, then you can get out.” 

Donghyuck appeared behind Mark, tugging at his hand. “Hyung, seriously.”

“No I’m serious!” Mark whirled around to face the other members. They were quiet - normally when arguments broke out, it was best to leave them run their course. Interference usually ended up with a bloody nose; but Aria had never been the centre of one before. 

“Fucking mistake, putting a girl in a boy group.” He spit. 

Aria scoffed, a disbelieving smile on her face. Yuta stepped back slightly.

Aria wasn’t scary;  she was small and cute and lovely, everything that made it impossible to be even slightly intimidating. But, now, with a sharp up-tweak on the corner of her lips, Aria looked murderous. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry Mr. All Star, is having a woman in the group affecting your precious masculinity? That a woman can out dance you, can out sing you?” She spat, hands balling by her sides. 

It was Mark’s turn to scoff, rolling his eyes. “Please, Aria, you’re not a woman. You’re barely a child.” 

“You’re one year older than me, asshole.” 

Taeyong moved towards the pair. “Guys, take a walk. I don’t want to hear it right now.” 

He went ignored. 

“And yet,” Mark sniggered. “I don’t look like a pubescent teen. At least people can tell how old I am.” 

Aria’s mouth snapped shut. Taeyong hissed Mark’s name, physically yanking the boy away from her. A stagnant pause bubbled up in the room, taking the place of the heated yelling. 

“Oh you fucking dick, Mark Lee.” Aria strode towards him, pushing at his chest. 

Mark spun, anger clouding his vision, swinging his arm and clipping her across the neck. Aria went sprawling, hand coming behind her to catch her fall. 

When her weight landed on her wrist, it twisted beneath her, and she let out a gasp. Yuta was beside her in an instant, as was Donghyuck. 

Taeyong now had a firm grip on the back of Mark’s neck, and Jaehyun was holding his wrists tight in a fist. 

Taeil took one look at the darkening red around Aria’s wrist, and left the room, presumably to grab an ice-pack. Sprains were a common injury - he hoped it wasn’t something more serious. 

Despite the tears now pooling in Aria’s eyes, her mouth was filled with fire as she fixed her heavy gaze on Mark - who’s own eyes were slowly clearing from the fog of anger, and a guilt-ridden line was taking its place. 

“Get your head out of your own ass, Mark. You're not a saint, stop acting like one.” 

The door swung shut behind her; a wet sniffle breaking into a choked sob before being cut off.

Mark slid to the ground, back against the wall, hands in his hair.

When the tears fell, no one made a sound. 

[mochiable]

— enough. (a)

REQUESTED — hello!! i really like your work and how you write. could i request a scenario about han jisung cheating on reader and her forgiving him every time but then she can’t stay with him anymore and they have a big fight? sorry if it’s so specific, but i think you’d do a great work with this! i’ll understand if you don’t want to do it though, have a nice day!

wc: 1.7k

warnings: toxic relationship, mentions of cheating, swearing, emotional pain

requests are open!

you were fed up. jisung kept shouting your name in the distance, but you didn't want to know any more, you didn't want to hear any more. you were tired of everyone taking you for a naïve fool who didn't realise what was going on around you. ‘poor thing, she has no idea he slept with five other girls’, ‘i feel so sorry for her, how come she's still with him?’ you didn't know, you really didn't know how you could still be with him. maybe they were all right, you were a sucker, but that was going to change, you weren't going to put up with any more humiliation, and much less coming from him.

as soon as you arrived at the flat you shared with your now ex-boyfriend, you locked yourself in your room and took your suitcase out of the wardrobe to start storing your most necessary belongings. you didn't know where you were going to go, you didn't want to bother anyone, but it was either that or sleep in the street or stay in a forty square metre flat with the person you least wanted to see right now. either of the first two options was better than the third one, anyways.

when you finished putting all your clothes away and headed to the bathroom to pick up your make-up and all your creams you heard the front door open loudly and as hurried footsteps followed by several curses headed towards the bedroom.

“what are you doing?” the dark-haired boy asked watching you from the bathroom door, looking through the mirror as you put all the products in your vanity case, hands trembling and clutching things tightly.

“dancing a tango, wanna be my partner?” you replied sarcastically, taking all the courage you had left and turning around to face him, “what the fuck do you think I'm doing, jisung? i’m leaving,” you spat angrily, moving towards the door and bumping your shoulder against his to walk back into the room.

“no, no, no,” he repeated, shaking his head repeatedly as he moved closer to you and tried to get your attention, “listen to me, please listen to me," he pleaded, reaching up to you and turning your face to his with his hands on your cheeks, “it’s not what it looks like, i swear.”

“isn't it? let me guess," you began, bringing your hands up to his and roughly pulling them away from your face, “was it her who kissed you? or maybe, oh, i know, you drank too much and couldn't control yourself?” you roared angrily, pushing him hard in the chest, pushing him two metres away from you, “fuck you, jisung! i’ve had it. you've done nothing but humiliate and despise me. fuck, why can't you take me seriously for once? am i a joke to you, huh? is that it? do you think i’m so deluded as to cheat on me not just once but five times? do you enjoy watching me being mocked and laughed at behind my back? ‘oh poor girl, her boyfriend cheats on her and she keeps chasing after him like an idiot because she can't stand on her own two feet’!”

at first, your age difference was the reason for thousands of messages and threats directed at you. you were only three years older than him, and he was already an adult, you didn't see the problem, you both loved each other, or so you thought. the comments soon went from ‘old predator whore’ to ‘dumb slutty little girl’. you had to put up with how they came on to your boyfriend, and how he did nothing, smiled and even flirted back. however, when a boy came up to you, he seemed to wake up and didn't hesitate to shoo him away.

“no, that's not true. please, y/n,” he came back to you with a desperate expression on his face, managing to cradle your cheeks again and wipe away the tears you hadn't realised were falling from your eyes, “of course i take you seriously, darling. you're my everything. they're lying, i swear, y/n. i’d never do that to you, you have to believe me.”

you pushed him away from you again, and ran your hands through your hair, tousling it and burying your face in your hands. the moment you looked up again, you found your face reflected in the small mirror of the canterano in the room. a haggard, weak, sultry face. you dropped onto the bed, you were exhausted and you knew that this argument had only just begun.

“enough, enough,” you murmured, holding back the sob that was about to escape your throat, “stop lying, just stop! you don't love me, jisung. you never have and you never will. why do you want to keep me here if all you do is make me suffer?”

“no, that’s not true. i do love you, y/n,” he replied softly, crouching down in front of you until his eyes were level with yours. he brought his hands to yours, but you pulled away and stood up again, laughing bitterly.

“you have a terrible way of loving then,” you said, turning around and reaching for your suitcase, but jisung was quicker and wouldn't let you.

“i’m not letting you leave, not without sorting this out,” he said resolutely, snatching the suitcase from you and setting it in a corner, “it’s after midnight, you're not going out at this hour.”

“so now you care? where were you all those times i had to come home alone in the middle of the night because my boyfriend preferred to cheat on me with someone else?” you asked, moving forward again to grab the suitcase, but he got in the way and grabbed your arm, pulling you away from your things. you tried to pull away, but you knew he wasn't going to let go until you two fixed this, so you decided to continue, “you don't have to worry, there's no one out there who's going to hurt me more than you. you can stay calm.”

“tomorrow you can leave if you want, but tonight you're staying, okay? i can't let you leave at this hour, i’m not gonna let you," the grip on your arm was beginning to intensify, but he released you immediately when he saw the expression of discomfort on your face. he unhesitatingly wrapped you in an embrace and pressed you against his body, stroking your hair and resting his head on top of yours, “please stay, love. stay with me tonight.”

“how many others have you told this to? huh? how many others have you told to stay the night with you?” you asked between whimpers against his chest, clutching the sides of his t-shirt tightly in helplessness, “you treat me like shit, you cheat on me, you humiliate me and then you have the balls to tell me you love me.”

jisung, seeing that his words were having the opposite effect to the one they were intended to have, lifted your face and brought it close to his. he brushed your noses in a gentle but subtle gesture and, caressing the lower part of your eyes, he leaned towards you until your lips made contact.

however, the butterflies in your belly that you once wished would never disappear had, indeed, died. none of them was left. because jisung, with his lies and deceit, had killed them off one by one. until the last one that had remained until tonight couldn’t stand it anymore and vanished just like her sisters, leaving an empty hole in your stomach that resembled the one you had in your heart.

still wide-eyed, you brought your hands to his, which rested on your cheeks, and lowered them. jisung gradually broke the contact of your lips, until finally he rested his forehead on yours and let out an agitated sigh.

“you’re staying, right?” he asked once he’d pulled away from your face, looking at you with sympathetic eyes. but you no longer believed anything, you no longer trusted him.

“what would i gain by staying, jisung? i can’t stand any more humiliation,” you answered with a broken voice, trying with all your might he wouldn’t see you cry again. you hated showing weakness in front of him at times like this. you felt that if you did, he’d won again and you were tired of losing.

“please, y/n, please. you can't do this to me,” he growled desperately when you pulled away from him and went to pick up your suitcase. he tried to catch you when he saw you walking towards the door, but you turned and raised your hand, putting it in front of his face and telling him to shut up.

“i can't do this to you? i’m not the one who sent our relationship to hell, jisung. you decided to flirt with other girls, you decided to make out with them and you alone decided to fuck them. you’re the only son of a bitch here, and i’m not going to put up with you treating me like rubbish anymore,” you finished, taking the keys off your key ring and leaving on the front porch the one that opened the flat that was no longer yours. then, you turned to him and started to memorize all the details of his face, before saying your last goodbye, “have a nice life, han jisung.”

you left that apartment putting an end not only to a relationship, but to a lifestyle that had been destroying you for months. you didn’t know how you were going to overcome everything that had happened, but what you were sure about was that you weren’t going to go back and, evidently, you weren’t going to let anyone else treat you as if you weren’t a human being.

jisung’s punishment would be to wake up and remember everything he had and everything he could have continued to have if he hadn’t screwed everything up. now, when he got home he’d only find a cold and empty apartment. but that didn’t compare to how you’d felt during the last months of your relationship, and now it was his turn to feel the worst that can come from a toxic relationship, helplessness and resentment.

[elsewhereuniversity]

rescue mission

It’s been five weeks and two days since Fake Dana was kil- disappeared and Real Dana came back. I didn’t know exactly what would happen to me should I complain about it to anyone but the dean, so I was laying low, but… the recent discovery of my roommate’s skin being a bright shade of green changed some of my plans.

When I told him - Threeox - about Real Dana murdering Fake Dana, and now living invisibly on the campus (I’d never seen her again), he sighed, locked the door and windows, before making me sit on the floor between our beds and getting out a small wooden key out of a seemingly lidless box made of shimmery dark brown wood. The box was amazingly carved, so much so that looking at it too long made me dizzy, and I had to close my eyes not to faint as the patterns on the lid started to sway as to a sharp breeze.

“Threeox, what’s that about ?” I asked, a little confused - and a whole lot scared.

That was probably not my smartest move - Threeox doesn’t talk per se, he just… gets his point across in a remarkable way that I had yet to pin down. A series of drawings of a cat with five eyes and a full ten minutes of interpretative dancing later, I kind of gathered that Fake Dana was trapped in the mirrors in the North Dorm, and couldn’t get out because of all the iron.

Naturally, I tried to organise a rescue mission, but gathering partners proved difficult. Real Dana apparently gained quite a reputation among the Student Witches, and everyone kept looking at me weirdly when I asked where Fake Dana was and if we could, like, rescue her maybe ? No one wanted to talk to me for more than two minutes, fidgeting uncomfortably and asking me if I’d packed my suitcase yet. I wasn’t going anywhere without Fake Dana, but hey, who am I to contradict the masses ? I’d just have to lay low a little longer.

It started on rocky grounds but I did gather for this mission a few seniors, all knights that had a history of being kind(er) to the Changelings, even though I’d never heard of them before. Their names were Toll, Bell and Eulogy, which - okay, some of us have weird names, but… It’s not that hard to pick a happy one. I couldn’t quite remember what mine was now but people had no trouble remembering me when I talked to them, so I assumed that was fine.

Add to the knights a freshman, EXO. Freshmen are probably a bit too young and frightened for that, but the fearless EXO wasn’t, uh, exactly a freshman ? Freshperson ? They were at least two metres tall and they had that look in their eyes that told you not to mess with them or they’d do unspeakable things that I, well, couldn’t speak of. Just know they were good for stuff like this. Or so I assumed, since they were the one who brought the knights to my bi-weekly “Where is Fake Dana” search.

We got some supplies: the baseball bat Fake Dana hid under my bed that one night the dean decided to do a room check, a good couple teaspoons of charcoal, some rags, a freaking battleaxe that Toll swooshed around like it weighed nothing, and that one river rock the archivist kindly lent us, and we departed for the wild wild north. Midnight seemed an appropriate time.

The dorm looked fancy, not gonna lie, the iron structure glimmered and almost rippled under the moonlight. I felt EXO shiver as we entered, their eyes losing any life that they might have had, their skin getting that weird greenish hue it didn’t have just moments before. The knights also shivered, but that might have been the cold.

The entrance was deserted, no sign of life save for a calico cat who meowed at us and tried to eat my shoelaces. She promptly departed when I told her they were a gift from the president, though I didn’t specify which president. It was the president of the cross-stitching club I was in in middle school, and she, uh, suffered from a slight eye issue after she looked through my hagstone. I mean, I did warn her about seeing the Nethers through the hole, but she didn’t listen.

Anyways, enough of that. Toll started to hack at the nearest door with his axe, waking up the poor unsuspecting students living there. “Where the fuck is she ?”, I asked, peeking around Toll’s shoulders. The two girls looked at each other, at Toll’s axe, at each other again, and one of them ended up spitting out “Basement. Third door to the left. Hope you die a slow, painful death, girl, you deserve it.”

Eulogy, true to her name, sang a few verses in Tamil, and we all collected our spirits before walking towards the basement. The iron in the walls seemed to sing to the beat of our steps, the doors creaking to the rhythm of our breaths. EXO seemed paler and paler under the dimmed overhead lights, until Eulogy sprayed us all with what I can only assume is water from that Wishing Well we’re not exactly supposed to talk about. That seemed to calm us down a little. I squeezed EXO’s hand when they looked at me questioningly, my smile thin and eyes dulled by fatigue. I couldn’t sleep that well since Fake Dana was gone, so I just wanted this to be over with already. 

The third door was cracked open, but no sounds emanated from behind the heavy iron and the weird, Tolkien-inspired words of advice in elvish. I could recognise “The way is shut, and the Dead keep it”, which wasn’t even the full correct quote. The door swayed to an invisible breeze and it opened way too silently for something made of rusty metal. As we went down the stairs, we could hear the stone crackle with contained electricity, so much so that Toll, Bell and Eulogy decided to stay up to guard our backs. EXO grit their teeth but didn’t stop, grabbing Toll’s axe on the way.

“Good luck, bro, and good riddance, you girl,” Eulogy waved, and the three knights were gone as if they were never here. I wondered what she meant by that, but I couldn’t ask in time. EXO gestured to the stairs, mouth shut tight. I was kind of getting tired of everyone telling me I should leave, so I hoped at least Fake Dana would help with that. Hadn’t I been working so hard to rescue her ?

At the bottom of the narrow stairs were two doors, also made out of metal, and what Threeox told me about - the mirror.

Ten feet tall, circled with iron chains, the metal behind the glass pane was reminiscent of clouds, though it was most likely silver. I could see a prostrate silhouette in the bottom right corner, faint tremors running through her whole body, sobs muffled, whimpers of pain spread between fits of coughing.

I yelled something I couldn’t really understand, a guttural sound that made her raise her head, and I saw Fake Dana’s eyes grow wide as she recognised me.

“Missed me ?” She smiled, teeth sharp.

My throat went tight as she started to slam her fists against the glass. “It’ll be okay soon. I promise,” I said, examining the lock keeping the iron chains together.

“Hey, move, I’ll take care of it,” a voice I pinned on EXO whispered in my ear. “Tell her to stand back.”

I did so, and Fake Dana retreated to the far side of the mirrorspace. With three swipes of his axe, EXO managed to hack away most of the chains, and the rest I hastily discarded, fists pounding on the glass as Fake Dana pounded back. 

“The key. The lock.”

“Fuck.” I started rummaging through my satchel, finally finding the small piece of wood that has slithered into the bag of crackers I keep for the crows. “Where is that fucking lock ?”

EXO gestured to the back of the mirror and helped me turn it around, their skin starting to sea as they kept pushing the metal. They eventually managed to shift it enough that I could wrestle my arm in and fit the key into an oddly shaped keyhole. 

The back of the mirror started glowing a pale green before cracking open, revealing a room barely large enough to fit Fake Dana. Tears welling up in my eyes, I did my best to extract her without causing her too much damage until she finally made it out to the other side.

“Friend,” I said. “I didn’t think I’d ever find you ! Thankfully Threeox helped, and there’s - look,” I continued, turning back to face my rescue team, forgetting it was only me and EXO now.

They were smiling, too, and they gestured at the stairs. I understood what they meant - out.

I turned to Fake Dana again, still somewhat relieved to see her dry her tears and gracefully get up without giving me the time to offer help. She smiled like nothing was wrong. I followed her up the stairs and into the hall, her naked feet sizzling and leaving angry red marks on the floor, probably due to the iron dust covering every inch of the place. EXO swung the the front door open, touching the iron pane with a quickly blistering hand, and as I looked at them more closely, I couldn’t help but mouth “Threeox”. 

“Oh shit, right, come here !” Fake Dana grabbed my face with both her hands, her palms wet with leftover tears and blood, the feel of them sending shivers down my spine. She spat in my eyes like she’d done before, and suddenly the night became less bright, her skin less pale, EXO’s features morphing into the face of my roommate, skin going from that red I’d been kinda surprised about, to the vibrant green that the cat warned me about. 

Toll, Bell and Eulogy were nowhere to be seen. I started wondering if I’d dreamed about them, if they were ever here at all. Their names had stuck in my mind and once again I wondered what mine was. I know Sizzle, my roommate, was quite upset before shoving me out of the room - which room was that again ? 17 ? 23 ? I forgot.

Fake Dana interrupted my thoughts with a light shove on my arm. “You can leave, now, you’ll remember who you are soon. It’s okay, it’s done.”

“What’s done ?” I tried to ask, but my eyelids suddenly became so heavy I had trouble keeping them open.

The last thing I heard were guttural sounds, so unlike Fake Dana’s voice, and a wet caress on my back.

I woke up on this train a few moments ago. I don’t know where it’s going, except from “Far away” and “Not where I came from”. My suitcase is filled with all my belongings, except the iron jewellery I acquired during my two years as Elsewhere U. And as I look at the landscape we are zapping by, I do not recognise the streets nor the trees.

The only thing keeping me from falling asleep again is the sticky red liquid pouring out of my nose, making me curse out loud as I scramble for a handkerchief. The blood stops flowing after a while, and I catch my reflection in the window across me.

I have several streaks of white hair, the contrast sharp with my otherwise dark brown ponytail. My eyes are bloodshot and I have blood caked on my face in the shape of hands. My skin is pale, my eyes gleam a quickly fading red.

I remember it now. My name is Dana.

x

[getitinbusan]

I've Got A Coupon (18+) 

Part 4

Jimin: Voyeur: You can look but you can't touch.

Warnings: 18+ consensual sexual poly relationships. Always swearing, Safe sex is implied. Don't read smut if you can't handle the 🍆💦

Words: 1400

Valentine's Day, what do you give 7 men who already have everything?

Sitting down, you create a series of Love Coupons and place them in a bowl...

Erotic movie night

Massage with a happy ending

Lap dance

Voyeur, look but don't touch!

Naked Chef, dining al fresco

Trip to the sex shop

Location of your choice!

Calling them to the kitchen they each take a turn picking their present.

Series Masterlist

12 pm: 

Y/N: It's your time baby!  Can't wait to see what you came up with. Where are you?

Chim: I'm at the front entrance, Come get in the 🚙

You jumped into the passenger seat and you could just tell he was up to no good.

"Jimin, I can smell the mischief exuding from your pores." 

You began questioning why you'd let them make the coupon their own fantasy.

"I don't know how on earth you managed to turn this prompt into a field trip." 

Reading the look on your face he giggled, "Don't worry it's not that bad. Do up your seatbelt my metres running."

Pulling into the alley you still weren't sure where you were.

"We're taking the back entrance, the last thing we need are Dispatch photos of us going in here." 

"But it's not that bad? Just career ending if you were to get caught? Seems worth it." 

"The reward totally outweighs the risk, trust me." 

He pulled the innocuous looking back door open and you were met by a huge flashing pink neon sign "SKIN" 

"A strip club?" 

He smiled, "Private Room." 

"So you brought me to a strip club so that we can mutually masturbate in a professional setting?" 

He kissed you with the smirk on his face, "I thought you were smarter than this." 

"Park Jimin, if someone's about to get freaky with you maybe don't call them dumb." 

He rolled his eyes, "let's go."

He shouted across the bar, "Is it ready for me?"  

The scantily clad server came over and kissed his cheek. "It sure is, I think you already know where #7 is." She looked you up and down before letting out a disappointed "hmmff," while heading back to the bar. 

"Wow, now I feel ugly and stupid. Sure hope this date gets better." 

He pulled your hand up the hallway past several open doors. They were peep show boxes. 

Stopping when he got to room 7 he leaned in close, "I think 7 may be your lucky number." 

The room was sparse. The dim lighting revealed everything in silhouette. There was a black leather couch that sat in front of a curtained window and small table off to the side with an old school phone. 

"Are you ever going to explain this little fantasy to me?" 

He picked the phone up off its cradle and hit a number you couldn't see. "You can start." That's all that was said before he hung it back up. 

"The card said you can look but you can't touch." He stood behind you, his breath hot on your neck as he spoke. "But it didn't say WHO couldn't be touched." 

He certainly was clever. You really didn't think there was much to interpret on this one but he'd managed to invent a whole work around in less than 24 hours. 

"So we can touch each other while we watch someone else! That's really very impressive Jimin." 

He lit up at the praise. "Apparently I'm highly motivated by sex." 

"Then let's get you a reward."

Walking to the window you drew the curtain open to reveal the set. A black leather couch, a small table and a phone. The mirror image of your own room except theirs contained two naked women who were kissing. 

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, "Did I do good?"

You turned and pulled his shirt over his head, "Can they see us?" 

"Only if you want them to." 

"I think I'll take a pass, my body isn't meant to be shown off like theirs."

With a frown on his face he tucked your hair behind your ear. "You're perfect Y/N and you've got absolutely nothing to be ashamed of." 

You smiled bashfully. If anyone knew the struggle of being self conscious it was Jimin. 

He slowly undid the zipper down the back of your dress and slid his hands inside. Skimming his fingers from your waist to your shoulders he pulled the straps away from your body until it fell around your feet. 

"You're perfect." 

His lips kissed the back of your neck sending jolts of pleasure down your spine. Your bare skin was covered with goosebumps and your nipples were pebbled in anticipation. 

Longing for his lips you turned and kissed him. Soft, wet, warm puffy lips that perfectly aligned with your own. 

"You know the best part of being friends who fuck?" 

"I'm hoping I get to find out." 

"It's the part where I know exactly what you're thinking, exactly what you want just by looking at you."

"Tell me, what do I want Y/N?"

Dropping to your knees you released him from the stranglehold of his zipper. He sat hard and thick waiting behind the fabric of his Calvin's. 

"My mouth." You pulled them down just enough to keep him tucked in and kissed the neatly trimmed area of his lower abdomen.

He groaned," Please don't make me wait, I've been thinking about this since yesterday." 

Pulling his pants down over the swell of his ass you took him into your mouth. He was the perfect size for sucking, and he loved that he could disappear into your mouth entirely.

You grabbed his hands and put them on your head. "Use your hands Jimin." 

His fingers tangled into your hair as he pumped himself slowly past your lips. 

With your mouth around him sucking, he watched the two women behind the glass. They sat, tongues licking tits and fingers in pussy's. It was a sensory experience like no other and he  couldn't help his desperate moaning. 

There was no way he'd last at this pace. "Come up here and watch."

As soon as you stood, his lips caught yours, his tongue plunged deep into your mouth seeking the comfort of its counterpart.

"Over here," he moved you to the back of the couch. He positioned your hands exactly where he wanted them. "Legs apart for me." His hands ran down your back and came to rest on your hips. "How's your view?" 

Behind the couch you both stood, his cock pressed against your entrance. "It's perfect." 

The women lay in 69, lips on clits in their private room as he thrust himself inside you. 

"Do you think I can make you cum before they do?" 

He placed his index finger on your clit and slowly circled the wet bud. It was heaven. 

As your closest confidant Jimin knew everything you needed and then some. He was the keeper of all of your secrets. He knew every intimate detail of your sex life with Yoongi, and you'd gushed on more than one occasion about Guk's prowess. He had the insider advantage of knowing both men's skills and he was now combining them and using them against you.  

"That's how you like it isn't it?"

You moaned with each thrust against your cervix. "Right up inside you as deep as I can get?"

Your eyes were closed enjoying every second lost in your climb when your hair was tugged back. "You'd better open those eyes. The game's look, don't touch and you're not looking."

He gripped your hair in his fist keeping your neck strained. "Look at them rubbing their clits together." His index finger pressed a little firmer and faster. 

"Fuck me harder Jimin," you cried out about to cum. 

His thrusts hitting just right and the excitement of the voyeurism met in perfect timing.

Collapsing from your orgasm he pulled out and came all over your back." 

"I can't wait to tell my best friend about the great fuck I just had." 

He smiled and pulled his pants back on, " I think from now on  our sleepovers are gonna be a lot more interesting. 

Part 5: Jin - Naked Cooking

[broccoliboix5peepeeman]

Heeey there~! 🥺👉🏾👈🏾 I think the world could use a cute bunny!Izuku tddk fic and you’re the perfect person to write one into existence! 😭 Thank you in advance!

Anything for you, friendo!!! <333

Ao3 Link

Word count: 5125

Well…  Shoto thought to himself, looking down at the pile of clothes on the pavement. This is a surprise.

 He honestly had no idea what had happened. One minute, him and Midoriya were walking down the street towards Yuuei with their groceries, the next, a small child had barrelled past them, knocking Midoriya's arm as she went. Initially, his friend had insisted that he was fine, but the moment the culprit had turned down the next street, he had vanished, his clothes and bag unceremoniously clattering to the floor.

 Shoto had been - understandably, he thought - alarmed by the development. After all, it wasn't every day one's best friend and crush disappeared, leaving nothing but a pile of clothes behind. Shoto was entirely ready to sprint after the children and shake them for information, when suddenly something moved under the pile, informing him that his friend was indeed still alive, just struggling to get free.

 'Midoriya?'

 Shoto knelt down and tried to untangle the clothes so whatever was underneath could escape. What he wasn't expecting was to come face to face with a fluffy Havana rabbit in place of his friend. 

 'Oh.'

 Wide, verdant eyes with dilated pupils stared up at him questioningly and Shoto felt himself blush at the sight. He knew those eyes better than his own.

  Yes… Definitely Midoriya. 

 Just when he thought his best friend couldn't get any cuter, he had to go and turn into the most adorable rabbit in the world.

 His ears were upright, albeit a tiny bit shorter than average, his nose was pink as it moved around, sniffing the air, and his coat was ebony with an emerald shine, except for his paws, which were white and messy.

  It's like he's wearing socks...

 Shoto shook himself. 

  Fawn over your best friend later, fool. You've got a job to do.

'Midoriya, blink twice if you can understand me?'

 Those big eyes continued to watch him intently, before blinking twice in confirmation.

 'Good.' That made things a lot easier. 'Now, are you hurt? Blink once for no, twice for yes.'

 Midoriya blinked once, much to his relief. Then, he let out an adorable sneeze that went straight to Shoto's heart.

  So cute.

 'Okay, I'm going to pick up your clothes and bags so I can take us back to the dorms. Am I okay to carry you?'

 Midoriya nodded and Shoto could've sworn his friend was smiling. He tried not to dwell on it though and got to work. He shoved Midoriya's clothes into one of the fallen carrier bags, before picking them up and transferring them to one hand. The weight was fine, but the straps bit into his fingers harshly - it was going to be a painful walk back.

 Midoriya must've sensed his distress though, because the moment Shoto scooped him up against his chest, his friend hopped up and took his place on Shoto's shoulder. When he turned to look at him, confused, Midoriya nuzzled his nose against his cheek to assure him that he was fine.

 It took every ounce of self-control for Shoto not to set them both on fire with his quirk.

 'Okay, Midoriya. I'll allow it.' He spoke evenly, despite his friend still rubbing against him. 'But if you fall, I'm going to be very upset. I will cry, don't test me.'

 The rabbit squeaked at that and made sure to shuffle a little closer, until he was nestled near the crook of Shoto’s neck.

 Distributing the carrier bags into both hands to distract him from the proximity, Shoto then set off down the street.

 Somehow, the walk back wasn't as uncomfortable as he thought it would be. Sure, some people sent him confused looks, while others straight up muttered about how he was a careless owner for letting Midoriya perch on his shoulder, but Shoto found that being in Midoriya's presence helped him feel less agitated. After all, Midoriya always had a talent for calming Shoto down when he let his anger get the better of him. 

 Soft fur brushed against his face and Shoto sighed, content, before deciding that he should probably say something.

 'How are you feeling?'

 Silence.

 When Midoriya tilted his head to the side, he realised his mistake. 'Oh yeah. Er, blink once for good, twice for okay, three for sad, four for other.'

 He didn't appreciate how easy it was for Midoriya to look so amused as he blinked twice. Before Shoto could ask though, Midoriya settled back near his neck and purred.

  I didn't know rabbits could purr.

 Shoto exhaled carefully to control himself and quickly decided to continue the rest of their journey in silence, lest he embarrass himself further.

 🐇🐇

 'Why is it, when something happens, it is always you two.' Aizawa leant against his desk and pinched his brow.

 'For the record, Sensei,' Shoto raised a finger. 'I understood that reference and think that the current circumstances are a lot different.'

 'Answer the question, Todoroki.' Aizawa glared at him. 'Why is Midoriya a rabbit?'

 Shoto sighed heavily and proceeded to explain what had happened. He informed his teacher that there was no foul play - it was merely an accident - and that Midoriya wasn't hurt. Aizawa nodded at set intervals and when Shoto eventually fell silent, he pushed himself away from his desk and looked down at them.

 'It wouldn't be logical to punish you for this.' He began bluntly. 'But in the future, I will be more stringent with your liberties to leave school grounds alone.'

 He then looked down at the small rabbit, sitting by Shoto's leg. 'Midoriya, you have to go see Recovery Girl in case there are any health concerns we need to be aware of. I will take you. Todoroki, go back to the dorms and keep this to yourself for now.'

 'Yes, Sensei.'

 Before he could turn around though, Midoriya suddenly nuzzled against his leg in an effort to make him stay.

 Shoto looked down questioningly to find wide eyes staring up at him, filled with emotion. Unable to simply walk away from such an expression, he crouched down to stroke his chin.

 'It's okay, Midoriya. I won’t be gone for long.'

 As it turned out, it was not okay.

 The moment Aizawa bent down to pick him up, Midoriya went feral. He jumped into the air to escape his teacher's incoming hands and landed a metre to his left.

 'Problem child.' Aizawa warned, before trying again. However, Midoriya repeated the action, then bounced in a zigzag motion to evade capture. When he came to a stop, Shoto noticed the look of defiance on his face - if that were even possible.

 Aizawa grumbled and fingered his capture weapon. 'Don't make me use this.'

 Midoriya frowned before hopping to hide behind the desk. Their teacher followed him, muttering something about how 'you little gremlins never make it easy for me.'

 Shoto stood, gawking as the two circled the desk comically. Eventually, Aizawa reached his breaking point and raised his capture weapon.

 However, Midoriya was ready.

 Shoto watched in awe as emerald and scarlet lightning came to life with the activation of his quirk. Sparks danced around his friend's small form as he leapt into the air to avoid the scarf. With practiced ease, he bounced off the walls around them - his style similar to his human form - before he eventually landed behind him. Shoto looked down to find Midoriya hiding behind his leg and glaring up at their teacher.

 'Midoriya.' Aizawa almost growled, crimson eyes flashing dangerously. The moment his erasure activated, the shining light vanished from around the rabbit. 'Come here, now.'

 Thump.

 Shoto stared, bemused.

 'Are you serious?' Aizawa raised an eyebrow.

 Another thump.

 'Don't you thump your foot at me, kiddo.' Their teacher snapped, albeit Shoto could tell the action had mellowed his anger. In any other situation, he might've smiled at the way pro-hero Eraserhead attempted to lecture a rabbit.

 Now though, he had to play the peacemaker.

 'Midoriya.' Shoto spoke gently. Angry eyes softened when they landed on him. 'If I stay with you, will you go to Recovery Girl? You can ride on my shoulder again?'

 His friend considered this offer, before nodding once.

 'Unbelievable.' Aizawa waved his hand, exasperated. 'You two will be the death of me.'

 Shoto considered his teacher, before bending down to pick Midoriya up with ease. When he got settled on his shoulder, the two followed Aizawa out of the room.

 As they walked down the corridor, he heard his teacher mutter, 'I swear, if you pull this shit again, I'll set Sushi on you.'

 'Who's Sushi?' Shoto asked.

 'None of your business.'

 🐇🐇

 One thing Shoto quickly came to release, as he dutifully accepted his role as caregiver, was that Midoriya was a lot more clingy than usual.

 He couldn't tell whether it was a side effect of the quirk or whether his friend was simply taking advantage of his adorableness and being affectionate because he knew no one would be able to deny him cuddles. Either way, Shoto didn't mind. He liked hugging Midoriya as much as he enjoyed receiving them.

 He especially didn't mind that Midoriya seemed to be the most affectionate with him, as he watched his peers slowly come to terms with their classmate's temporary form.

 'He's so tiny!' Ashido gushed, as Yaoyorozu stroked Midoriya, who looked rather content in her lap. 'I just wanna squeeze his cheeks and eat him all up!

 Midoriya squeaked at that.

 'Stop scaring him, Ashido-san!' Yaoyorozu gasped, before scratching behind his ears to calm him.

 'He knows I'm only joking.' She waved her off. 'We all know Bakugou's the one who likes rabbit stew anyway-'

 'Ashido.' Shoto warned, as he strode towards where Yaoyorozu was sitting. He noticed how Midoriya trembled at the mention of Bakugou's name and immediately bent down, opening his arms. 'It's okay. He's not gonna hurt you. You want a hug?'

 Nodding quickly, Midoriya jumped out of Yaoyorozu's lap, trusting Shoto to catch him in his arms and bring him close to his chest. Shoto cradled the back of his small head, stroking pointed ears as his other hand supported his fluffy butt. He tried to ignore the fact that he was technically groping his crush, but he couldn't hide his blush, especially when Midoriya reached up to lick his neck.

 'That's so cute!' Hagakure exclaimed, shaking Ashido by the shoulders while the rest of the girls cooed at the display. 'I've never seen Todoroki-kun so affectionate!'

 'Look at Deku-kun's little tongue, I'm dying!' Uraraka squealed with excitement as she bounced on the balls of her feet. 'Catch me, Iida-kun. I might swoon.'

 'Urarak-ah!' The class president yelped as she dramatically fell into his arms. 'I told you to stay hydrated!'

 'I'm just being dramatic, jeez!' Uraraka pouted, flopping against Iida.

 Shoto raised an eyebrow at his friends' antics, before turning his attention back to Midoriya, who was nibbling at his shirt. He smiled softly at the action and stroked one of his ears.

 'You're not allowed to eat my clothes, Midoriya.' He playfully scolded.

 Then a thought occurred to him.

 'Hey, Iida.' He spoke softly, not taking his gaze away from Midoriya, who stared up at him with big eyes. 'I need to fetch some food for Midoriya. He hasn't eaten all day, so could you look after him for me?'

 Uraraka fell to the floor with a shriek and in seconds, Iida was in front of them.

 'It would be my pleasure to look after Midoriya-kun!' He announced, before his voice suddenly dropped and he rubbed the back of his neck. 'In fact, I was actually hoping I would get the chance to hold him, but I did not want to presume that I had that privilege!'

 'What do you think, Midoriya?' Shoto tilted his head to the side. 'Can Iida hold you?'

 His friend nuzzled against him softly, before eventually nodding. He turned to the class president and Shoto lifted him up under the arms to hand to Iida, whose eyes were wide and nervous.

 When Midoriya got settled, Shoto then stepped back, lip twitching slightly. 'What do you want? Rabbits like carrots, right?'

 Midoriya stuck his tongue out and made a gagging noise, which Shoto found oddly amusing.

 'Midoriya-kun!' Iida went to gesticulate, but quickly realised both his hands were occupied. 'It is important to get the right nutrition, especially given the fact that you are under the effect of a quirk!'

 'It's okay, Iida.' Shoto narrowed his eyes at the rabbit. 'I know Midoriya won't say no to spinach.'

 Little ears pointed upwards and his nose twitched with interest. Shoto's heart skipped a beat. 'I'll take that as a yes.'

 In a moment of boldness, he then raised a finger and booped Midoriya's damp nose, before turning and heading to the kitchen.

 When he arrived, he took some spinach from the fridge and rinsed it under the tap, then reached for Midoriya's favourite All Might bowl. Fully armed with his food, Shoto then looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at Iida, who was trying not to hand chop Midoriya as he stroked him. Keeping his face neutral, lest he betray his amusement, he then made his way towards one of the more quiet members of his class, who was mixing some honey into his cup of tea.

 'Koda, can I ask you something?' He mumbled, watching his classmate jump slightly at having been addressed.

 When he realised Shoto was actually talking to him, Koda nodded, tilting his head to the side in question.

 'Can you use your quirk on Midoriya?' Shoto scratched his cheek. 'Earlier, when I asked him if he was okay, he indicated that he was, but I want to be sure. I- I'm worried about him.'

 Koda looked at him, knowingly - Shoto wasn't quite sure how to feel about that - then nodded softly and walked over to Midoriya. His classmate whispered something into a large ear and Shoto waited for the result.

 Midoriya ground his teeth together as he seemed to reply, before his eyes met Shoto's own, a warmth in them that was oddly familiar and relaxing. He was so enraptured by them, he didn't notice that Koda had returned to his side until he flashed a thumbs up.

 'Midoriya-san's okay.' He spoke in a high voice, slightly amused. 'He was slightly overwhelmed at first, because the quirk seems to make him act more on instinct, but now that he’s accepted that, he told me he's liking all the hugs and pets! He feels rather tall on your shoulder too. And er…'

 'Yes?'

 'Er…' Koda grinned bashfully. 'Midoriya-san also said that "with Todoroki-kun fussing over me, I've never been better, so please tell him he doesn't need to worry about me".'

 Shoto flushed at that, but before he could fruitlessly try to defend himself, the door to the common room slammed open.

 'DEKU!'

 Shoto rolled his eyes and turned to find Bakugou storming into the room, making a beeline for Midoriya, who had frozen in Iida's arms. 'Is it true you're so pathetic you let a kid use their quirk on you?'

 He came to a stop and stared at the rabbit, before he burst out laughing. 'Ha! Look at you! You really are pathetic!'

 'Bakugou-kun!' Iida exclaimed. 'Please refrain from calling Midoriya such names!'

 'Shut up, four eyes!' He growled. 'I'm just speaking the truth!'

 Shoto placed his bowl of spinach on the counter and made his way over. Everyone was used to Bakugou's aggressive nature - whether they liked it or not - but that just fuelled Shoto’s need to protect Midoriya even more, especially in this state.

 'No one wants you here, Bakugou.' He spoke firmly. 'If you're just going to run your mouth, you can do it somewhere else, where you won't use my best friend as your verbal punching bag.'

 'Don't fucking tell me what to do, Half n Half!' He growled, baring his teeth at Shoto. 'Like I give a shit what you extras want!'

 'You're making Midoriya-san uncomfortable.' Yaoyorozu stood up then, fists clenched. 'Bakugou-san I must insist you stop. He's had a rough enough day as it is.'

 'Do I look like I care?'

 'No, but you should.' Shoto crossed his arms over his chest and looked at him, coolly. 'He may look helpless, but that right there is a ruthless killing machine.'

 'Fuck off, Half n Half. Like Deku could do anything to me.' He stuck his finger out to poke Midoriya. 'What are you gonna do? Eat a carro- AGH! YOU BASTARD!'

 Shoto couldn't hide his smile when Midoriya bit Bakugou's finger in retaliation, a look of defiance on his face. His classmate reeled back, clutching his bloody hand, before he lunged for Midoriya. However, the latter was faster and leapt out of Iida's arms just as Bakugou crashed into the class rep and the two clattered to the floor with a shriek.

 Green lightning coursed through Midoriya as he flew through the air towards Shoto, who instinctively opened his arms to catch him.

 The moment he felt soft fur against him, Shoto took action, wrapping his arms around Midoriya and holding him close as his friend scrambled to burrow his head in the crook of Shoto's neck, trusting him to protect him.

 Bakugou snarled as he wrestled himself off Iida and onto his feet. Before he could continue his attack though, Shoto raised his right arm and pointed it at him.

 'You brought that on yourself, Bakugou.' His voice was even. 'Now back off. I'm not letting you anywhere near him.'

 'Ha! Don't make me laugh.' Bakugou spat, tiny explosions popping from his hands.

 Shoto noticed the way Midoriya pressed closer, sensitive to the loud noises as his damp nose wet his neck, and frowned. Lowering his temperature, he prepared to attack, when suddenly the door slammed open. 

 'I AM HERE TO SEE MIDORIYA-SHOUNEN!' All Might burst into the room, his muscled body flexing before he reverted back to his true form with a puff of smoke. Shoto watched, mildly concerned, as his teacher hacked up an inordinate amount of blood into a tissue. 

 When All Might eventually cleared his face and pocketed the tissue, he smiled sheepishly at the class. However, when he noticed Bakugou's fighting stance, Shoto's frost and Iida's mid-air hand chop, he frowned.

 'Am I interrupting something?'

 'It's all under control, Sensei!' Yaoyorozu stepped between Shoto and Bakugou and clasped her hands together. 'Bakugou was just going to see Recovery Girl about his finger.'

 'The fu-'

 'Really?' All Might raised an eyebrow. 'What happened?'

 'That vermin bit me, so I'm gonna make him regret-'

 'You invaded Midoriya-kun's personal space!' Iida frantically shouted. 'The consequences are justified.'

 'Four-eyes, I swear to fuck, I'll end you!'

 'Language, Bakugou-shounen.' All Might raised a finger. 'I'll deal with Midoriya-shounen, but right now, you need to go to the infirmary.'

 Bakugou glared at his teacher and, for a moment, Shoto thought he'd refuse, when finally, the blonde tsked and turned away.

 'Fucking rodent's probably gonna give me rabies.' He muttered as he stalked out of the room. When he was out of earshot, Shoto tilted his head to the side.

 'How would we be able to tell the difference if he did have rabies?'

 It was a genuine question, yet when everyone around him laughed - including a vibrating Midoriya - Shoto allowed himself a small smile.

 🐇🐇

 Shortly after Bakugou departed, All Might took the opportunity to take Midoriya outside for a quick word. Shoto wasn’t entirely sure how many words were going to be exchanged during their conversation, seen as Midoriya couldn’t exactly talk, but he trusted the former number one hero to figure it out.

 So, while he waited for his friend to return, Shoto wandered back to the kitchen, grabbed his food for Midoriya and took a moment to simply relax. As much as he loved spending time with his friends, all this socialising was starting to become rather overwhelming, so it was nice to finally have a quiet moment to himself, now that his classmates weren’t hounding him for information about Midoriya’s current state.

 He managed ten minutes of pure Shoto-time, before he heard a cackle from the living room and the chaos began once more.

 Preparing himself for worst, Shoto turned around, only to come face to face with verdant eyes, mere inches from his face. Shoto’s own eyes widened and he stepped back in shock, watching as a black and green rabbit floated lazily in the air.

 ‘Midoriya?’

 His friend nodded to him in greeting, indifferent to the way his back legs rose higher as he began to rotate. His ears flopped against gravity as he turned upside down, nose twitching as he eyed the spinach in Shoto's hand.

 Unable to look away, he fumbled to grab a leaf and brought it to Midoriya's mouth. His friend eagerly nibbled at it and in seconds it was gone.

 Shoto watched, blinking dumbly, before he shook his head and finally found his voice.

 'Uraraka, why is Midoriya floating?' He spoke calmly, raising his arm and poking soft fur so that his friend was upright once more. ‘Where’s All Might?’

 ‘He had to leave to make a phone call.’ Uraraka shrugged, then she watched as Midoriya continued floating across the room and grinned. ‘As for Deku-kun, he said he missed being tall, so I said I’d help him out.’

 ‘You speak rabbit now?’ He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

 ‘Miruko-san taught me a little, yeah!’ She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. However, when Shoto shot her a look, she groaned and brought her hands together. 'You're no fun, Todoroki-kun. Release!'

 Midoriya squeaked as the gravity returned to his body and he descended to the ground. Abandoning the bowl, Shoto dove forward to catch him, arms outstretched. He breathed a sigh of relief as a fluffy stomach made contact with his open palms, safe, before he landed on the floor with a thud, chin, elbows and stomach receiving carpet burn as he slid forward slightly.

 'A bit of warning would've been nice.' He grumbled. However, his anger quickly dissipated when Midoriya hopped towards him and licked his nose in thanks.

 'I knew you'd catch him.' Uraraka skipped forward and patted her friend on the head. 'See, Deku-kun. I told you Todoroki-kun would fall for you!'

 Shoto buried his head in the carpet and groaned.

 🐇🐇

 Shoto wasn't exactly sure how he got into this position. One minute, he was reclined in one of the common room armchairs, reading a manga he had borrowed from Sero, while Midoriya released some pent up energy by zooming around the room. The next moment, he awoke from an unexpected nap to find his friend laid across his chest, twitching as he slept.

 Shoto looked down at him with a soft expression as he registered the way his hands had wrapped protectively around Midoriya whilst he slept. Not wanting to let go just yet, he absentmindedly stroked soft, dark fur, hugging his friend closer and watching the way Midoriya moved with each rise and fall of Shoto's chest.

 The two stayed that way for a while; Midoriya gently snoozed while Shoto fussed over him, gradually working his hand up to rub his head. He tickled the crease where upright ears met his head, before Shoto reached his friend's whiskers. He noticed how Midoriya leant into the touch and felt himself smile.

 Eventually though, in typical Midoriya fashion, his twitches increased in size and frequency as he dreamt, until the poor boy woke himself up with a full body convulsion. Alarmed, he lifted his head and looked around frantically, nose twitching as he smelt the environment.

 'Hey, bunny.' Shoto soothed, eyes widening when he processed the nickname, but Midoriya didn't seem to mind. In fact, his friend physically relaxed at the sound of his voice, then turned his head to lick Shoto's hand in greeting.

 His heart swelled. 'Must've been quite the dream if it woke you up.'

 Midoriya squeaked, before hiding his face between his paws, embarrassed. His fluffy body shook when Shoto's chest rumbled with amusement.

 'What were you dreaming about? All Might?'

 Midoriya shook his head.

 'Bakugou?'

 Shoto shouldn't have felt such satisfaction when his friend growled at the mention of that name, but alas, he was a simple man.

 'Were you dreaming about me?' He tried to sound playful, but couldn't hide the slight blush on his cheeks.

 It didn't help that Midoriya just stared at him with big, round eyes, like he wanted to say something, then Shoto realised.

  Oh…

 'You were chasing a cat, weren't you?' He asked, intelligently.

 He didn't know rabbits could sigh, let alone with that much exasperation.

 'No?' He quirked an eyebrow. 'I'm not sure then, you'll have to tell me about it when you can talk again.'

 Midoriya shook his head, before he let out a big yawn.

 'You still sleepy?' Shoto tilted his head to the side, scratching his friend's chin. 'Maybe we should head to bed then. Blink once for my room, twice for your room.'

 Midoriya stared at him for a moment, as if to say, 'Are you sure?'

 'I'm not leaving you on your own, Midoriya.' Shoto answered, as if it were obvious. 'What if something happened to you? You can’t use your phone, you don’t even have opposable thumbs.’

 His friend scrunched his nose up and frowned, before he relented and blinked once.

 ‘My room it is.’ Shoto reluctantly stopped stroking Midoriya and picked him up. After setting him comfortably on his shoulder, he stood up, grabbed the discarded manga and exited the common room.

 By the time he entered his dorm room and got Midoriya settled on his futon, his friend was already dozing off again, his breathing evening out as his head rested against the pillow. Smiling softly at the sight, Shoto switched into his pyjamas and laid down next to his friend.

 He leant his cheek on his palm and observed his sleeping form, basking in the rare opportunity to shamelessly appreciate Midoriya, one of the most important people in his life, without fear of being discovered. Pointed ears twitched, closed eyes fluttered and his teeth ground together slightly. Shoto watched the small behaviours, heart suddenly feeling too large for his chest as emotion consumed him.

 His mouth moved before he could think.

 'I'd do anything to protect you, you know?' He whispered softly, reaching a hand out before faltering. 'I promise, I'll try my best to always keep you safe.'

 When Midoriya snuggled further into the pillow, Shoto sighed and closed his eyes, sleep slowly returning.

 He missed the way verdant eyes opened to regard him with unbridled emotion, before shuffling closer.

 🐇🐇

 The first thing Shoto's hazy mind thought when he woke up the next morning was Heavy.

 Groaning, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, before blinking them open, sleep blurring his vision. When it finally cleared, Shoto noticed that something was laid on top of him…

 Or to be more specific, someone.

 Or to be even more specific, Midoriya?!

 Shoto's eyes widened and his face immediately turned crimson. Midoriya Izuku was in his bed, cuddling Shoto and drooling all over his chest. His fluffy green hair tickled his neck and his large arm was wrapped around his waist protectively.

  How did…?

 It was only when he remembered the events of yesterday that Shoto realised the quirk must have just worn off in his sleep, causing Midoriya to transform back into his usual self.

  Nothing to worry about. Shoto told himself as he tried not to set his blanket on fire. You're glad he's back to normal. No need to feel- Wait…

 Shoto narrowed his eyes with suspicion, before he gingerly raised the blanket covering them, his curiosity getting the better of him. When his eyes landed on way too much freckled skin, he suppressed a yelp and dropped the material.

 His face felt like it was on fire, but before he could calm himself down, Midoriya suddenly roused. He squished his cheek against Shoto's chest, before he groaned and looked up at him, scratching his disheveled hair and smiling.

 'Hey, Todoroki-kun.' He mumbled, before rolling off Shoto and stretching. Luckily, the blanket still covered his lower body, but the frontal view of Midoriya's muscled torso was still too much for Shoto's heart that early in the morning.

 'Morning, Midoriya.' He replied, ignoring the way his voice squeaked slightly. 'How do you feel?'

 ‘I feel great, all thanks to you!’ His friend replied, chirpily. ‘Thank you for looking after me yesterday. I know it was a little difficult at times.’

 ‘I’ll always look after you, Midoriya.’ Shoto shrugged, ignoring the blush on his cheeks.

 ‘Does that mean I can still cuddle you when I want to?’ Midoriya wiggled his eyebrows friskily, albeit he chuckled nervously. However, his playfulness was lost on Shoto.

 ‘Of course, it does.’ He fiddled with his blanket and looked away, realising his bluntness. ‘I like cuddling you and looking after you.’

 Midoriya’s teasing smile faltered and he gazed at Shoto, curiously. Several seconds passed, before his friend nudged closer and reached out a trembling hand.

 ‘What about this?’ He cupped Shoto’s cheek and stroked the area under his scar with a gentleness that juxtaposed the raw strength he knew Midoriya possessed. The touch was so warm, Shoto felt himself nod, eyelids fluttering shut. ‘Good, because yesterday made me realise a lot of things, gave me the opportunity to figure out what I want… What you might want.’

 Shoto exhaled shakily at that, not trusting himself to speak.

 When Midoriya spoke next, he sounded a lot closer and Shoto’s eyes shot open when warm breath fanned his face. ‘I know that I want to be closer to you, if that’s what you want too? I know this isn’t the same as yesterday, but-’

 ‘Am I definitely awake right now?’ Shoto interrupted, swallowing heavily.

 Midoriya smiled at that.

 ‘Yes.’

 ‘Good.’ Shoto placed his hand over the top of Midoriya’s own and leant forward to close the gap between them. He rubbed his lips against his friend’s own, before he kissed him softly, admiring the way slightly chapped lips pressed back. When they pulled away, Midoriya rested his forehead against his own and laughed breathlessly.

 ‘I’m glad you waited until I turned back into a human before doing that.’

 Shoto hummed softly and leant in to whisper in his ear.

 ‘Well, it’s not every day you wake up to find your best friend naked in your bed.’ He sat back then and waited as verdant eyes widened with realisation and Midoriya lifted the blanket to find that he was, indeed, not wearing any clothing.

 ‘WHAAA-?!’

[arcturusreads]

Save A Dance - Merhayes

This one's based off an ao3 promp where Meredith and Cormac have a moment and Maggie and Winston's wedding

Weddings had always stirred up emotions in Cormac. It didn’t matter whose it was or where it was. The church weddings for the multiple aunts, uncles and cousins that he had attended as he had grown up in Ireland, the extravagant American weddings he had been invited to when he had moved to the country, his own quaint wedding to Abigail which had been anything but quiet. They’d all had memories and feeling attached to them that meant a lot to him.

The first wedding Cormac had been to was when he was seven months old and acting as a ring bearer. His mother still had a photo of that moment on the mantelpiece back at home, much to his embarrassment. She’d always said he was a fussy baby but that day he behaved perfectly. Not a wail to be heard from his strong lungs.

The first wedding Cormac remembered, however, was when he had been a pageboy for his mother’s best friend’s daughter. While the other young boys complained about being stuck in stuffy shirts and dress shoes and how boring the ceremony was, Cormac was entranced by the whole event. He thought it was amazing that two people wanted to tell everyone that they loved each other so much. The thought of yelling about how much he loved his Ma made him embarrassed so they had to love each other a lot to be willing to do all of this.

As Cormac grew up and attended more and more weddings, he began to truly understand the commitment these two people were making to each other. How there wasn’t just an immense amount of love present, but also respect and trust. The magic of a wedding day had not been lost on him as he transitioned into adulthood and when he had finally married Abigail, he had felt as though he was on cloud nine. It wasn’t just the wedding day; it was the thought of the life that they were going to share. A time that was cut short far too soon and far too cruelly.

Weddings no longer just stirred emotions in him now, it was more like a hurricane. When the first invitation had dropped through the letterbox, Cormac was certain that he wasn’t going to go. He couldn’t bear the thought of it but eventually, after a call home to his Ma, he managed to get into his suit and go. It hadn’t been as bad as he thought it was going to be, but the day had left Cormac with an ache in his chest that demanded to be felt.

Cormac had known, by the time he had been invited to Maggie and Winston’s wedding, that days like that were always going to be tinged with sadness but that didn’t take away from the beauty of them. Nowadays, Cormac knew how to get through the wedding and only giving into the feeling of grief when he got home. He wondered if that feeling would ever completely go. The feeling of longing, the anger and upset of being robbed of growing old with Abigail. Sometimes, he wasn’t always sure he those feelings to go.

This wedding felt different to the other he’d been to though. Maybe it was the fact that he knew that there was someone else sat in the congregation who had been through the same things that he had, who was battling with those same emotions. Maybe it was the fact that it was also that same person that he had grown so close to. That he had found someone that sparked feelings in him that almost felt foreign, it had felt like an age since he had felt that way.

Once the ceremony was over Cormac went over to congratulate the happy couple and thank them for inviting him. He had formed a solid friendship with Winston over the past few months and had gotten the chance to know Maggie a lot better both through Winston and Meredith. As he stepped away, letting the other guests pass on their well wishes, Cormac scanned around the beach. He saw Meredith’s kids with Link but no sign of her. Eventually, he found her chatting with Richard. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he slowly walked over, hoping that the two would have finished talking by the time he got there.

“Hayes!” Richard had seen him walking and waved him over.

His ears tinged red; Cormac had been hoping he could just make it seem like he’d bumped into Meredith rather than coming over to talk to her. You can’t always get what you want though. Still, he quickened his pace to join the pair.

“Richard, Grey, how are you both? You did a great job up there,” he complimented Dr Webber who gave him a grin in return.

“Thank you, Cormac, it was one of the greatest honours of my life.”

Richard looked between Cormac and Meredith and knew neither were fully paying attention to him. Both were staring at each other with smiles on their faces. He wasn’t offended though; it was clear as day that something was going on between them. Even if they didn’t want to admit it themselves.

“I’m gonna leave you, two kids, alone,” there was a cheeky grin on his face as he slowly back away.

Meredith’s eyes snapped away from Cormac quickly and looked over at Richard in alarm. “What? No, you don’t need to do that.”

Chuckling, Richard shook his head at the protests. “I’m going to go and find Catherine before she causes some kind of trouble, you two enjoy.” He winked at them both and walked away whistling.

Meredith looked at him in disbelief before turning back to Cormac, “I’m really sorry about him.”

Cormac waved a hand in the air, “Don’t worry about it, I’ve gotten used to the fact that everyone in that hospital likes to get involved in people’s personal lives.”

Barking out a laugh, Meredith couldn’t help but agree. “Yeah, we just can’t help it.”

“Want to go for a walk?” He suggested, trying to make it sound casual but really he was praying she would say yes. Cormac knew that as the wedding turned into the reception Meredith was going to be busy.

“Sure that’s a good idea? I’m pretty sure it’ll set tongues wagging.”

Cormac rolled his eyes, “I’m not sure they ever stopped but if you want to say no, Grey…” He trailed off in a teasing tone.

Meredith began to walk away from the wedding part leaving Cormac standing there. After a few steps, she turned around. “Are you coming, or what?”

Grinning and shaking his head, Cormac caught up with her. That woman was something else completely. They walked in silence for a few moments, enjoying each other’s company as the babble of the guests behind them quietened the further away they got.

“You look beautiful today, Grey.” Cormac didn’t care to admit how long it had taken him to build the courage to say that.

“Oh, thanks,” Meredith hadn’t expected a compliment from him.

Up and until now, their relationship had mainly been built on a lot of teasing but the sincerity in his voice told her that he wasn’t joking around here.

“You, uh, don’t look too bad yourself.” What Meredith had really wanted to say was that he looked great in a suit, like amazingly good but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

“Is that all I get, Grey? I tell you that you look beautiful and all I get is that I don’t look too bad?” He bumped her with his shoulder.

“Oh, I don’t think your ego needs inflating. I’m sure some of the nurses here would love to compliment you.”

“Aye maybe, but they aren’t the ones I want to compliment me, Grey.”

Meredith stopped in her tracks and stared at him with curiosity.

“I meant what I said, Meredith, you look absolutely stunning today.” Cormac gently cupped Meredith face, his thumb stroking her cheek. He wasn’t quite sure where all this courage had come from but decided not to question it.

Even though she was slightly surprised at how forward Cormac was being, she couldn’t help but lean into his touch. She savoured in the warmth that it brought, the sparks that his touch ignited.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see some of the staff beginning to look their way. He quickly removed his hand from her face and instead laced his fingers with hers and continued walking. Meredith frowned when he had pulled away but was immediately comforted the moment, he took her hand.

“Weddings are still a difficult one for me. Not as bad as before but they aren’t the same. You’ve made it easier for me today though.”

“Me?” Meredith was slightly confused. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You made me realise that I can still have a future. That moving on from Abigail doesn’t mean that I love her any less or that I’ve forgotten her.”

Meredith wasn’t 100% sure what Cormac was getting at her, “Cormac, wha-“ she tried to get him to clarify but he quickly cut her off.

“Save a dance for me later, would you?” There was a glint in his eyes as he asked. He knew exactly what he was doing and exactly what Meredith was going to ask but he wasn’t going to give her an answer just yet.

“Momma!” They both turned around to see Ellis five metres away, grinning and waving her hands in the air.

“You should probably go, Grey.”

Meredith looked between Ellis and Cormac before finally nodding, “Uh, yeah, see you later.” She began to walk away when Cormac called out to get again. Turning around, the breeze making her dress twirl around her legs and the sunlight making her hair glow like a halo around her. Cormac’s voice almost got stuck in his throat seeing her like that.

“And Grey? Make sure it’s a slow dance.”

Slightly flustered, a blush spreading on her cheeks, Meredith quickly nodded before turned around and walking away as fast as she could from Cormac. He couldn’t help but chuckle before thinking how lucky he was to have a dance with the most gorgeous woman here.

[nothing-but-dreamy]

RECKLESS

Pairing: FFXV!NYX ULRIC x FEM!READER

Words: 2.559

Warnings: cursing, erotica

Synopsis: Yn is a reckless Glaive. One of her comrades is not okay with her behavior and so, he wants to talk with her.

"We need backup in the west! Behemoth and Imperials. More to come. Nyx, where are you?", Luche asked through the intercom.

"I'm on my way-", Nyx answered through the ear-piercing noise of the battlefield.

"Am already there, Luch!", Yn answered Luche's request through the channel.

"No! Yn, don't! There are too many enemies! Yn!”, Nyx tried to call Yn through the channel but he got no response, “God damnit!", he cursed frustrated.

"Go! I'll manage it here!", Libertus' shouted over the impact of another grenade. Nyx cursed and left his friend's side, knowing exactly what Yn was about to do.

As Nyx reached the position, he already met a bunch of comrades, helping each other to fall back to a safer spot behind some crumbled ruins, "Where's Yn?", he asked concerned as he couldn’t see the small woman. An explosion enclosed them in a cloud of sand. As an answer, someone pointed at a Behemoth in some distance.

The angry creature screamed violently and tried to reach the position of Nyx and the others as it saw the Glaives. Nyx got ready to fight, almost throwing his Kukri, as he watched how a person appeared on top of the Behemoth's head out of nowhere, encircled with magical aftermath.

Immediately, Nyx noticed the small frame as Yn's and watched worriedly how she jumped from the head, aiming for the ear of the roaring animal to land on it before she pushed herself from it to slam both her blades into the throat of the creature as deep as she could to kill it. As the animal fell lifeless to the ground, sliding a few metres through the dust, Yn jumped from it and landed elegantly in front of Nyx' feet with a grin, "Oh, hey, Ulric! Wanna join the fun?"

"Fun? You-", but Nyx got stopped as Yn pushed him out of the line of fire the Magiteks had started. They were rolling over the ground until Yn landed on top of him, straddling Nyx' lap, her hands on his chest, "Well...nice view, hero.”, she whispered seductively, “But I have to go. Was my pleasure to save your sexy ass tho.", she said grinning before she got up on her feet, fighting against the closing imperial troops.

Cursing with annoyance, Nyx jumped back on his feet and joined her in the fight. She still had the upper hand but he knew that could change quickly. The Magiteks were merci- and countless. Nyx jumped next to her side the second she decapitated a mechanical soldier who knelt to her feet. Her daggers were sparkling in the setting sun while she smirked, her face covered with blood and dust.

"Yn! Nyx! What's your status?", Luche asked serious. He already had gotten the information that both Glaives were fighting in the most dangerous area. Alone.

"We're at the west wing.", Yn answered while killing another rifleman, stemming her foot on his chest to pull out her blade, "We're fighting against Magiteks but they're coming in steady waves. Behemoth is down, tho.", she called out, jumping at the next two soldiers and killed them both at the same time with her blades digging deep into their throats.

Nyx did the same and landed next to Yn with his back against hers to cover each other, "Luche, what are the next orders? We can't hold the line here without backup.", he called out seriously while the next wave was already on their way.

"Okay, all Glaives fall back! I repeat, all Glaives: fall back and regroup!", Luche ordered.

Nyx moved to follow the orders but stopped as he noticed that Yn wasn't behind him. As he turned around, he saw her fighting against the next Magiteks. Even another Behemoth was on its way, straight aiming for her position.

Fascinated and amazed at the same time, Nyx watched how easily Yn wielded the blades in her hands. As if she was dancing, she flew over the battlefield, warping back and forth. Effortlessly and merciless, like an angel of death, Yn took out one enemy after the next.

A Magitek shuttle dropped new soldiers while Yn aimed for the Behemoth. She was already running to it. Once again, Nyx cursed about her blind recklessness and was about to follow her, but as a grenade exploded near Nyx, he warped aside to get save. As he looked around the little piece of wall he was hiding behind, he saw nothing else then dust, debris and dead bodies.

***

"Yn!", Nyx called out as he saw the small woman walking down the hallway of the headquarters, joking with Furia about something random. The konvoi had brought them back five minutes ago and now, everyone was looking forward to taking a shower, a drink or to get some sleep after this long, exhausting fight against Niflheim.

Yn turned around as she heard her name and saw Nyx closing up on her, "Yeah? Oh, hey...", she exhaled, rolling with her eyes about his stern expression with the frown chiseled into his features.

"What was that back on the field?", Nyx asked angrily.

"Could you be more precise? You mean as I have saved your ass? Or as I had this little dance with the Magiteks?", Yn asked with a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I mean the fight with the Behemoth? And the imperials? And the other Behemoth?", Nyx pointed out as the other comrades passed them, ignoring the two who were always fighting about something since Yn had joined the Kingsglaive.

"Oh, I see! You're mad because you fear I would try to snatch away your little title as a hero. Don't worry. I'm not eager to steal anything from you. You can keep your reputation.", she said with an arrogant grin and walked away.

Nyx groaned annoyedly before he ran after her. Quickly, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into an abandoned room where he closed the door and pressed her against a wall, caging her with his arms.

"What are you doing, Ulric? Let me go!", Yn hissed angrily.

"No! Not until you told me what your plan is. Are you so eager to die? Do you wanna get killed?", Nyx hissed through gritted teeth. He had much respect for this young woman and her skill but she was a bit too reckless for his liking.

"Oh, you're so quick to judge others, huh? Can I remind you that you're not even better than I am? What I have heard about you is that you're the incarnation of recklessness, hero! So, what makes you think you have the right to question my decisions? I'm still alive and also everyone else around me! That's all that matters! Always!", Yn said and stared serious at the man in front of her.

"You play with your life as if it would be just a game!", Nyx said through his gritted teeth.

"Yes! I play with my life! And? No one cares what I do with my life anyway! No one cares if I'm alive or not!", she snarled.

"I care about your life, fuck damnit!", Nyx hissed aggressively and in the next moment, he crashed his lips on hers to silence her. For weeks, he had been hungry to taste her lips. She drove him crazy with simply everything: with her manners, with her thoughtless will to fight against everything, with her undeniable beauty... Nyx felt frustrated when it came to her and to silence her and her nonsense was everything he wanted. That and to kiss her breathless.

But Yn wasn't amused and even if she had to admit that Nyx tasted seductively like sweet danger and kissed addictively, she hated when someone tried to silence her. So, she pushed against Nyx' chest to shove him away from her before she slapped his cheek violently.

Nyx' head snapped to the side with a stinging pain and after the first shock and panting for air, he looked slowly back at Yn who stared at him with a hatred filled glance.

Yn looked straight into his blue, dark sparkling eyes, "Don't you ever fucking dare to silence me again! What I do with my life is not your concern. You care for me? Fine! But that won't change any of my decisions! Got it? And now", she growled, grabbing the collar of Nyx' uniform, "Kiss me again, idiot!", she ordered and pulled him back to connect their lips with a bruising force.

Nyx gave her no second chance to change her mind now, as he had her where he wanted to have her: in his arms. As he kissed her desperately, he pinned her with his lower body against the wall while he roamed appreciatively over her curves with his hands. From her chest down to her hips to her back and to her ass to squeeze it softly.

Yn enjoyed his admiring touch but she wanted more of him. She wanted to feel him under her hands like she had dreams about it when she was alone with her imagination. Quickly, she opened everything from his uniform jacket to push it down his shoulders. As the jacket fell to the ground, she undressed his vest and quickly, she also undressed his shirt to toss it away.

"Hell, are you done already?", Nyx hissed, annoyed as he had to leave her lips for the second time.

"Next time, you should consider to dress less of these irrelevant clothes. Just a tip.", she whispered husky with a smirk.

Nyx leant closer matching her smirk, brushing along her nose with his own, "Next time?"

"Depends on what you have to offer now, hero.", she whispered lasciviously against his lips and scratched down his back with her nails, which caused Nyx to moan with pleasure.

"You little minx. You're not even better than I am.", he breathed, pointing at the fact that she was still fully dressed.

Slowly, she opened her jacket to undress it. She undressed her vest under his observing glance and with her eyes still connected with Nyx' dark gleaming orbs, she undressed the shirt and the bra in one go. Yn noticed how his eyes flickered down her exposed chest. Slowly she opened her belt and then even her pants to let them fall down, stepping out of them, the underwear and the boots, "Now, tell me, what do you desire?", she breathed while shoving her hands over her head to display herself. With soft moves, she lolled underneath Nyx’ eyes, showing him what he could have if he just reached out.

Nyx gnawed on his lower lip as he enjoyed the view in front of him. Even after a battle, her skin seemed to be so soft. The countless, little scars were signs of her rough past and how persistent she had been so far. Her right rib cage was covered with brandings from the Magitek tortures she went through before she had come to Insomnia. Bruises were already building from the latest fights on the battlefield. And yet, she was breathtakingly beautiful, strong and determined to fight as long as she could.

Possessively, Nyx placed his hands on her hips, digging into her flesh which earned him low moans from her lips, "You wanna know what I want?", he whispered, "I want you, Yn. For a very long time, I'm just longing to have you.", Nyx breathed.

Yn smirked, "Then, make me yours, Glaive.", she breathed seductively, grabbing his belt to open it and then his pants to push them down his hips with an untamable, passionately, hungry fire.

Nyx didn't need another invitation. Quickly, he scooted her up with his hands underneath her ass, bringing her into position. Yn snaked her legs around his hips and pulled him even closer. The moment he entered her, he groaned deeply by the feeling of her wet walls enclosing him. Still adjusting, Nyx leant with his forehead against her shoulder, kissing her soft skin while she snaked her arms around his neck.

Yn rolled with her hips to increase the friction between them even more while she raked her fingers through his soft hair, tugging on his braids and strands to tease him. Never before, she had felt so wanted by someone like in this moment as Nyx showed her his affection through his lips and hands, "God damnit, Nyx.", she breathed, panting for air as she just concentrated on the hot feeling of the man inside of her.

As he heard his name falling from her lips, Nyx raised his head to look into her eyes. She looked straight into his eyes as he started to grind with his hips. He saw the pleasure in her features. Whenever he reached her pleasure point, Yn moaned with relish and closed her eyes while she just enjoyed what he did.

Amazed, Nyx grinned while he felt how her legs tightened around his hips, keeping him in place. As he noticed that she was close, he kept his moves steady to give her what she needed. Yn's breath became more erratic and before she could betray their hidden position with her scream, Nyx captured her lips with his so she was moaning into his mouth as she rode out her orgasm on him.

Nyx shuddered as Yn's nails dug into his shoulder blades. Her walls clenched around him and she bit down on his lip. While she tried to come down, Nyx rolled his hips into hers to satisfy his own desire.

Still breathless, Yn smirked as she saw his dark, lust-filled glance. He looked her in the eyes once again as if it would turn him on to see her reaction. Slowly, she tightened her walls around him again while she scratched along his neck and shoulders with her nails to push him over the edge with sweet pain.

To muffle the sound of his own climax, Nyx buried his face into the crook of her neck, biting into her soft skin under her ear which let her shudder against his solid body. As Nyx came slowly clear, he put Yn back on her feet while both were still panting for air. Softly, Yn cupped his face, cradling his stubbles, tracing the lines of his lips and jaw with her thumbs to worship his handsomeness.

Nyx leant against her forehead with his own, enjoying her softness towards him, "Please, stop being reckless.", he breathed against her lips, embracing her frame to pull her against his naked skin, not able to let her go just yet.

Yn felt touched. No one before was so eager to keep her alive or in their life at all, "Well, I can't promise you that, Nyx. But ... What do you think of the following idea: Come to my place later and show me your arguments again why I should be more cautious, huh?"

Nyx grinned, kissing her softly and caring before he looked her in the eyes again, "Trust me, I will be there."

"Like you, I trust more in actions than in words. So, convince me, hero.", she breathed with a smirk and a pat on his chest before she passed him to dress her clothes again. Yn left the room with the hope he would follow her request later so she would be less alone for the first time in her life.

[emdeedot45]

Fluff 46 - “I don’t know if I want to yell at you or kiss you.” 😘

Prompt #1 "I don't know if I want to yell at you or kiss you"

Sylvie was mad.

Normally, it took a lot for her to get mad, but that’s what she was right now. She was mad and frustrated and pissed off and every other synonym under the sun that could be used to describe this situation.

The situation? Well, it started yesterday when she and Mackey had tended to a call at an old cemetery down town. As if the location wasn’t creepy enough, a clown had fallen into one of the open graves and needed medical assistance. Sylvie felt her entire body tense when she saw what they were facing. She hated clowns. They were so deceptive with their painted-on smiles and dirty tricks. But ever the professional, she put her fears to the side focused on the job at hand. She was PIC, she was a mentor to Mackey, she had to show she could handle this.

They couldn’t deal with it alone, however, and needed a manpower assist to get the clown out of the grave. Luckily for them, Engine 40 had been close by and swiftly got the clown out and Sylvie and Mackey quickly got him into the back of the ambo.

“God, I hate clowns…” she’d grumbled as she closed the backdoors to the ambo.

“Really? I always thought they were kind of fun in an entirely stupid way.”

She’d turned around and saw Greg Grainger standing behind her, his hands casually resting in his pockets and a charming smirk on his face that Sylvie figured got him pretty much whatever he wanted.

“No. They’re horribly deceptive.” Sylvie explained.

“Well for someone with a fear you wouldn’t have known with how you handled that.” He praised.

Sylvie scoffed in response, “Ever the professional.”

“Yeah… so, what have you been up to lately? I haven’t really seen you around.” He pried.

She’d been around. Maybe not as much as she’d normally been – nights on her couch with wine and HGTV or wine and girl time with Stella felt much more appealing that being at Molly’s, trying to focus on whoever she was talking to but her mind – and eyes – wandering to Captain Matthew Casey instead. Somehow, they always managed to find each other in a room and it was infuriating. She was trying to forget him. How was she supposed to do that when they kept burring holes into each other with their eyes?

Sylvie kept having to remind herself that it was stupid. He’d moved on with the kitten claw sign woman. She needed to find a way to move on too.

She’d shrugged at Grainger when he asked, “Oh you know, here and there…” she said awkwardly.

Mackey opened the ambo door and poked her head out, “You coming? I’m starting to understand why you hate clowns so much, Chuckles will not��stop staring at me.”

Sylvie shot her a sympathetic smile, “I’m coming.”

Mackey quickly glanced at Grainger before looking back at Sylvie and giving her knowing eyes. Sylvie then remembered what Mackey had said to her at Molly’s;

“Girl, clearly you need to get out and have some fun on your own.”

Sylvie closed the doors behind Mackey. Maybe this was her chance to have some fun. Maybe this was what she needed to forget about Matt Casey. A fun night out with a handsome firefighter.

Though, if he turned out to be a jerk, she was swearing off firefighters for good.

“Hey uh—” she began as she turned back to Grainger. “Do you fancy grabbing a drink tomorrow? I mean, it’s not a big deal, I’ll just be at Molly’s and maybe you could join. No pressure.” She rambled as he smiled at her.

“Yeah, yeah that sounds good.” He agreed with a nod. “I will see you tomorrow night PIC Brett.”

“Great. See you then.”

And that is how she got here.

At Molly’s, sitting with Grainger, mad as hell.

It had nothing to do with Grainger. He seemed like a nice, sweet guy.

But it had everything to do with Matt Casey.

From the moment they sat down at the bar, his eyes hadn’t left Grainger’s back. He was shooting daggers through the guy and Sylvie could see his jaw clench and his knuckles turn white from gripping his beer bottle too tightly – and it only got worse every time Grainger nudged her hand or her leg or any time he made her laugh.

Maybe Molly’s wasn’t the best location for this, but the whole thing was maddening. She could date whoever she wanted, wherever she wanted, and Matt couldn’t do a damn thing about it. He made his choice, and it wasn’t her, so he had to live with that. Besides, he was dating too and Sylvie said and did nothing. She just got on with things.

Though silently, her heart hurt was hurting, but she could never admit that out loud.

She put up with the jealous staring for an hour, but then she heard Matt obnoxiously scoff at Grainger telling her all about an heroic save he made the other day – and she snapped.

“Would you – would you excuse me for just a minute?” she asked, in the middle of Grainger’s story no less.

“Uh – yeah, yeah.” He said, a little taken a back by the timing of her request. She felt terrible, but she just couldn’t do this anymore. She slipped off her bar stool and stormed over to Matt’s table where he was sitting with Severide, Cruz and Gallo.

“Can I talk to you?” she asked as she crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the wide eyes that were being sent her way by the rest of the table who were surprised by her abruptness.

“Sure.” Matt said as he downed the rest of his beer for liquid courage before following her out of Molly’s.

They walked a few metres down the path and away from the door before Sylvie spun on her heel and glared at him.

“What the hell is your problem?” she demanded to know.

“I don’t have a problem.”

Sylvie clenched her jaw. Matt’s emotions were always written on his face – why couldn’t he just put them into words? She knew he was mad and she was sick of him not being honest with her.

“Yes, you do, you’ve been staring at me and Greg all night. I’m not stupid Casey and I’m sick of us dancing around the tension between us, it’s infuriating!”

“Fine, I was jealous ok? I am jealous. It kills me seeing you out with somebody else.” he exclaimed back.

Sylvie shook her head, “You have no right to feel that way—”

“Doesn’t mean that I don’t.”

She knew it was hypocritical to say that, but what else could she say? Sylvie took another step back from him because she couldn’t possibly put any more emotional distance between them. They might as well be strangers the way they’ve been treating each other for the past few weeks.

“I don’t know what’s going on in your head Matt, I don't know where this is coming from considering how we left things, but this jealousy thing – it has to stop. You lost your chance. You have to live with that as much as I do.” She said quietly. “Besides, you’re the one who went out with Sydney first.” she pointed out. He’d moved on a lot quicker than she had, but he seemed to be forgetting that little detail.

“Yeah I did, and it made me pretty damn miserable.” He confessed as Sylvie looked a little shocked by his confession. “I always do this when I go through a breakup. I try to distract myself with someone else and normally – it does help with moving on, even in the slightest way. But this time? It didn’t help.” He said with a scoff. “It made it a heck of a lot worse. It made me realise that I – I would rather be alone than be without you. It made me realise that I am in deep. I think I always have been.”

Sylvie’s body relaxed at Matt’s words. She wished it hadn’t, but it did. He was looking at her with a deep sincerity in his eyes and she immediately felt her anger dissipate. He was the most trustworthy person she knew and she hated that she was trusting his words right now. She hated that she knew they were true.

He did exactly what she was trying to do right now. They were trying to forget about each other by losing themselves in other people – but it wasn’t working and it never would. Grainger just wasn't Matt. Sydney just wasn't Sylvie. And that was the bottom line.

“What's that look?” Matt asked desperately.

“What look?”

“That look” he said. Her face had softened completely without her even realising as she tried to bite back a semblance of a smile. “It looks like you’re trying to stop yourself from saying something nice or even smiling at me.”

Sylvie sighed and ran a hand over her forehead, “I just don’t know if I want to yell at you or kiss you right now and god, it’s so annoying, you’re so annoying!” she childishly insulted. She had to at least try and be mad at him otherwise she might in fact kiss him. He would rather be alone than be without her – how was she supposed to pretend like he didn't just say that? How was she supposed to pretend that it didn't make her heart skip a beat?

Matt couldn’t help but shoot her an amused smirk. Even when she was trying to be mean she somehow made it stupidly cute. Sylvie dropped her hand from her head and put it on her hip, her distressed expression changing to a deep glare when she realised how he was looking at her.

“Stop looking at me like that.” She demanded.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to kiss you.”

Matt’s smirk grew, “I don’t think I’ll ever stop looking at you like that.”

“Dammit Casey…” Sylvie grumbled as she looked to her feet, not wanting to get caught up in his gaze. It was stupidly distracting, and she knew it would suck her back in – but it shouldn’t. There was still so much left to be resolved if it ever actually could be resolved.

He wanted her now because he couldn’t have her. But in the long run, he’d revert to wanting Gabby – he’d made that much clear the night of their kiss.

“I’m trying so hard not to love you but you’re making really damn difficult” She confessed quietly.

It was Matt’s turn to be taken aback by her words. She loved him. She was trying not to, but she did. Suddenly, everything he’d been feeling for the past year had started to make sense. He’d been in denial about his feelings. The whole thing just felt messy from the beginning. His feelings for her just came out of nowhere and he’d tried so hard to push them away and focus on their friendship – but it was pointless.

Now, he too trying so hard not to love her, but every smile, every encouraging word, even little glance in his direction – she made it really damn difficult

Matt let out a laugh of realisation. He loved her. He really did – and he was going to prove it to her. He took a step towards her, watching as her body started to tense again.

“I’m the guy for you Sylvie Brett” he said until there was just a breath between them. “And I know there’s so much more to talk about and you maybe don’t believe me right now – but I’m going to prove it to you. I’m the guy for you Sylvie Brett. You’ll see.” He said, his nose ghosting past hers briefly before he started backing away from her.

This was going to be get interesting.

[imnotrevealingmyname]

When A God Gets Lost

Chapter 1

Summary: There are bad ways to travel; then, there are terrible ways to travel. Teleporting to another dimension through the Æther is the latter, apparently. But as the old Bengali adage goes, even tigers will eat grass when they're starving.

Maybe a Midgardian from a different dimension isn't such a bad travel companion after all.

Author's note: This is my submission for the @allaboardthereadingrailroad 's Marvel Diversity Challenge. The OFC is an Indian- a Bengali, more specifically.

Tags: @what-just-happened-bro @is-it-madness @myraiswack @green-valkyrie @teenagereadersciencenerd @ohdearhiddles @whatafuckingdumbass @poetic-fiasco @mrs-wolfhard @your-favourite-skittles @lehuka123 @kellatron55 @shiningloki @latent-thoughts @outlawangel2020 @loki-yoursaviourishere

Warnings: Gore, mild violence, mentions of death.

Loki had known this would come to pass. He had known what he had signed up for, when he'd agreed to accompany Thor to Svartalfheim.

He'd even welcomed his own death.

At the time, the sweet prospect of release had seemed to be a gift from Valhalla.

So he hadn't tried to stop it from happening.

Except, he had.

Blood dripping from his mouth, Loki struggled to let go of strings of seiðr desperately anchoring him to his body.

Dust settled on his mottled blue skin. His ears were ringing, and blacks spots seemed to have been tattooed into his retinas.

If not for the pain, Loki would've laughed at the irony of the situation. Once again, despite all his orchestrations, he was a helpless spectator, strung tight while instincts battled brain.

White hot pain seared his entire body, radiating from the wound to his extremities, as he fought to make the tendrils of seiðr retreat. Unfortunately, it was tied to his genes, bound intricately to the essence of his consciousness. It kept him from slipping into the much anticipated slumber, tightening its hold exponentially.

Numbly, Loki thought of all the times he had heard people talk about life flashing before one's eyes before the final rest settled in.

Loki saw nothing, however. The only thing that passed before his eyes was the dreaded vision of violet sparks of seiðr curling around his own, slowly drawing his life force from him.

The salt of his tears mixed with the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. This helplessness was something he had vowed to never fall into, ever again. But here he lay, defeated yet victorious, in a veritable stream of his own blood, fighting the very instincts that had brought him thus far in life.

Odin, Frigga, Thor… Asgard. They had all taken everything from him, everything he had ever treasured. Self worth, family, his very identity…

Loki had hoped that he could find it in death. Who he really was.

But no, he had been stripped of that luxury, too. Not once, not twice… several times. Twice at his behest, and several times at another's, humiliated and agonized.

Maybe I should stop fighting.

But that wasn't who he was. Loki may not have known who he truly was, but he knew what he wasn't. He had never been one to stop fighting.

But what am I fighting for? Will this right my transgressions? Their transgressions?

Maybe sometimes… to stop fighting was to land the ultimate blow.

Gasping for breath, pain ripping his innards to shreds, he looked down at his midriff. There it was; his seiðr. The only measure of identity he had left. It was flowing from his fingers, from his mouth, weaving between his wounds, holding him together in every sense.

Loki's head fell back as he gave in to it, letting his instincts take over.

He didn't know how much effect his seiðr would have, but seeing as he couldn't do anything about it, apparently…

Unfortunately, he had underestimated the power of his own magicks. Seiðr, in every form, was sentient in its own right. Unbeknownst to Loki, continuous exposure to two infinity stones had affected his own magic in several subtle ways. Seiðr learns from itself and grows- he had learnt this even before he knew how to speak complete sentences.

Never had he thought that magic of such cosmic levels could mingle with his own.

Until he saw a few straggling fragments of the Æther hovering around his limp form.

In its urgency to revive him, his seiðr had drawn the Æther to itself, having turned into something resembling a magnet for cosmic powers.

To his horror, the bloodred fragments of the Æther clustered around him, forming a small tornado of dust and seiðr, swooping in to throw an eerie light over him.

The light only grew in intensity. The pain was lessening- his body was almost completely numb now. Wind howled in his ears, and flashes of green and red blinded him.

Satisfied with its work, his seiðr rose to greet the Æther.

Loki had been completely pinned to the ground. He struggled to look down, and saw that the wound had healed almost all the way through- enough to let him survive.

Immediately, he tried to draw back the seiðr. Enough damage had been done, he didn't need any more adventures.

The seiðr had other ideas, apparently.

Green and red danced together, shimmering and singing a shrill, haunting tune that rattled Loki to the core, producing a stab of pain in his gut.

Oh. His seiðr could only do so much. The spear that had impaled him must've been poisoned…

Which meant that his control over his seiðr was limited, and it knew it.

And thus, it was trying to regain strength by sapping it off the one of the most dangerous entities in all of the Realms.

Unlike normal seiðr, the Æther- as well as the other Infinity Stones- needn't be bound to an individual. They had their own separate existence.

Loki didn't even want to know what might happen if it bound itself to him.

Unfortunately, the velocity of the mingling magicks was growing, forming a pitch black void above him.

Fuck.

A sound of surprise and shock was the last thing that left his mouth before he was sucked into the vortex.

A deep rumble ran through the entirety of Svartalfheim when the dust settled- almost as though the Realm heaved a sigh of relief.

----

Aakshya's head hurt. Half an hour on the Arambagh local train with two three year olds bawling their lungs out less than two metres away could do that to anyone.

The last few days weighed down on her. It was all so surreal. Her last living relative- the last one she had been on good terms with, anyway- was gone.

Aakshya sighed softly, adjusting her glasses as her eyes filled with tears. She blinked them away. It wasn't surprising, not really. Her great aunt had been quite aged, but losing her was still a blow she wasn't quite prepared to deal with.

At least here, she could mourn in peace.

The Chandur forest had always been her happy place. After very long weeks at work, she had a habit of spending the weekend in a small resort here, sometimes. It was just quiet enough to help her recuperate.

The resort was still half an hour away. She decided to take her time today.

The sky was darkening, and she could see the moon through the spaces between the canopies of the trees.

The moon seemed larger today. Or maybe that was just the tears in her eyes.

She sped up a little, a prickly feeling spreading over her nape.

Were the trees rustling a bit more than usual? No, that must've been the wind… right?

Aakshya stopped dead in her tracks, clutching her bag tightly.

To her right, someone stumbled in the dark, groaning deeply and uttering a string of incoherent words in a language she couldn't recognize.

Maybe it was just the owner of the resort... Though why would she be here? Wouldn't she be at the resort itself?

"Sukanya Di, tumi?"she called out timidly. "Tumi ekhane ki korcho?" Is that you, Sukanya? What are you doing here?

She whipped around, frightened.

The sight that greeted her eyes was unnerving.

A blue-skinned, armour-clad man, covered in blood, was half sprawled on the ground, chest heaving as he struggled to rise.

The weirdest thing was that he was surrounded by red and green light that seemed to be trying to enter his body.

Aakshya stumbled backwards- but then she yelped when the man's hand shot forward and grabbed her upper arm, preventing her from fleeing.

"What is this place?"he rasped, using her as support to pull himself up to full height. Aakshya's eyes widened- he was over a foot taller than her, and he seemed to have been impaled clean through his chest.

Judging from the blood, the wound was fresh; but it was already closing in front of her eyes.

What in the world-

"I asked you something, mortal,"he snapped, shaking her a little. It affected his balance, apparently, because he swayed dangerously, catching himself by steadying himself against a nearby tree.

"Are you- is this some kind of a prank?"she squeaked, trying to pry his fingers off of her.

The man growled, and then coughed up a little more blood. "Answer the bloody question, girl."

"Earth, we're on Earth,"Aakshya managed, now fighting to get out of his hold. "Unhand me, you-"

If the fact that a man who had been impaled quite recently was stronger than her was a matter of concern, it didn't strike her then, as she attempted to scratch and bite him. The man merely grunted in annoyance, retaliating by giving her another shake.

"You're lying,"he snarled. "This cannot be Midgard."

"I don't know what's going on, but-"

"Unless… no…" He seemed to be speaking to himself now, though his scarlet eyes were on her.

It was completely dark now, and Aakshya was in the hold of some creep in a forest.

Well, I'm fucked.

----

Loki couldn't believe how bad his luck was. His chest stung with every laboured breath, and the Æther was still swirling around him, and now he had been transported to a different dimension.

He could feel it.

Which meant…

There were two of him in this dimension alone.

Oh, fuck.

Meanwhile, the girl was still trying to free herself from his grasp.

Loki gave her a crooked grin. "Looks like you're stuck with me now."

She gave him a look of outrage. "No, I-"

"What's your name?"

She seemed to quell under his gaze. "Aakshya."

"Pretty name. I'm Loki, God of Mischief and Father of Magick."

Aakshya scowled, trying to hit him. "Look, if this is some weird cosplay thing, I'm really not in the mood-"

Loki sighed, using the dredges of his seiðr to still her. "Girl, I've been impaled with a poison tipped spear and thrown into a different dimension, so I'm not in the mood for your tantrums."

Her eyes bulged with rage and she tried in vain to bite him.

"How about you and I go on a nice little walk, hmm? I can sense your loneliness and heartache, girl. I am very perceptive,"Loki said with a small smirk. "I can help you, if you help me. What say you?"

"I say you're a dangerous, senile man who's a bit too obsessed with mythology,"Aakshya spat, struggling to move.

Loki laughed softly. "Oh, but a little danger never hurt."

[timextoxhajima]

Grounded: Level 5

Level 4 | Level 6

Member: Minho (Lee Know)

Genre: idol minho x idol trainee reader

Taglist: @jaehyvnsvalentine @licorice526​ @lolwhatameme @felixn-recs @yunapixie​​​

[D E C E M B E R 2 0 1 9]

Your hands fly up to your face when you can hear the first few beats of the song they were supposed to perform at the KBS Song Festival. Of all songs to choose, they had to choose just one of the most iconic debut songs of all time?

As usual, Beomgyu was fitted right into the centre, because where else would he fit better? And Taehyun was given the opening line and then Kai pops out from nowhere looking like a toy poodle with that hairdo of his. Then our favourite bunny leader finally shows up-

And of course, Yeonjun gets the chorus, as he does the dance break where he winks into the camera. The tiny, version of you is struggling to pick up the million pieces your heart had just shattered into in your chest. 

“Yah, Yeonjun is so cool-” Minjung coos about it to So Eun. 

“How in the world did he manage to maintain his top trainee ranks?” Another trainee, Gahyun, leans back in the sofa you were previously sitting on, fiddling with the string from her hoodie. “We take turn to kiss the top before sliding back down.”

The group of female trainees laugh boisterously, but you are caught up in the likes of Yeonjun, and Yeonjun only. How lucky did you have to be to get into this company, the one only made popular recently because of BTS, and became known as ‘Yeonjun’s favourite female trainee’? 

“y/n, would you sit down?” Gahyun gets up just to tug on your shirt, pulling you back to the couch. 

“Why’d you interrupt her? Couldn’t you see she was whipped?” Minjung snickers, interlocking her arm with yours and leaning her head on your shoulder. “As much as I ship you and Yeonjun together, aren’t you afraid BigHit’s going to screw with you for being so close to his new money-making machine?”

“What?” You look down at Minjung, the maknae of the group you debut in. She’s three years younger and she’s nothing but a baby. "Whoever said anything’s gonna happen?”

Gahyun scoffs from the side, raising a teasing brow at you. “Maybe not now but in the future? Please.”

“But didn’t y/n have something going on with Lee Know from Stray Kids?” So Eun peels open a salad box and shoves a fork of salad and chicken into her mouth. 

Min Jung gasps, eyes widening and mouth open. “You had something with Lee Know? Like- the main dancer of Stray Kids?”

“No.”

“Yes,” Gahyun raises a brow. 

“No, I had something for Lee Know, and I’m through with it.”

Minjung pouts and leans her head against your shoulder again. Ju Rin (who would be your leader) walks into the room before anybody else can say anything. 

“Why’d you stop?” She lays some packs of drinks on the table. “I heard something about Lee Know.”

“Am I the only person who doesn’t know anything about this-” Minjung frowns and nudges you, arm still linked in yours. 

“Yes,” So Eun mumbles through a full mouth of salad and chicken. 

“What? Why?” The maknae whines, and Gahyun pulls you over for her to note one of your group practices.

“Fewer people knowing equals less risk,” Ju Rin sucks in a deep breath. There’s a gentle wheeze because one of her nostrils is blocked from the air-conditioning in the room. “I don’t think it’ll be wise if people know of their relationship before we even debut.”

“But what was it like? Why does it sound like... you fell out with him?” Minjung’s soft voice tugs on all the heartstrings in your chest. 

Gahyun, Ju Rin and So Eun fall silent, with Gahyun looking up from the screen to you. 

Ju Rin shoves her hands into her pockets. “You don’t need to tell her if you don’t want to.”

Minjung pouts, earning your attention despite Ju Rin’s defense. 

“That’s because we did. After he debuted, we no longer texted or hung out as much. I was mad and said some stuff... and since then we haven’t really had a proper conversation.”

“What?” Minjung finally sits up and pulls away from you. “Wait a minute, didn’t you visit Stray Kids with Yeonjun in August?”

“We did but... It was still kind of awkward. Not much was done besides us giving them a fruit basket.”

“I hate to butt in and say this but...” Gahyun locks her phone and leans back into the couch, turning her head to you. “It might’ve been for the best. He’s debuted and you’re set to debut soon. The last thing you would want is to get into a scandal with him.”

“I know,” Your eyes travel down to your hands. You’ve peeled a piece of skin too far up the cuticle of your finger, and the blood’s smudged a little, enticing you to shove it into your mouth to get rid of the redness. The metallic taste of your own blood stings your taste buds, but not as much as the truth is stinging your gut. “That’s why I’m not doing anything.”

There is a hair-raising silence in the air that’s packed with awkwardness - nobody knows what to say. So, thank God TXT bursts through the room after their performance, sweat in their hair and their microphones being peeled off their cheeks. 

“Well, well, well, looks who’s back!” Gahyun lifts a hand and does one of those bro handshakes with Taehyun. “High notes for days, man.”

“There’s a reason why I scored an A for vocals, you know,” Taehyun rolls the microphone wire around the pack and hands it to the staff. 

“Subtle flex but alright,” Gahyun snickers. Yeonjun hands his microphone pack to one of the staff members, and he turns to you, shaking his head and again showing his disapproval of his own performance.

“Why? You did well.”

“Nah,” He shakes his head and pats Minjung’s head. “Could’ve been better.”

“Whaaaat?” Someone should start counting how many times Minjung says ‘what’ today. “Who are you kidding?”

“Who are you kidding?” Soobin finally chimes in after pulling his jacket off. “Improvement’s great but there’s no reason to harp over a performance that’s already done.”

“I’d correct you there, but I’m too tired to get engaged in a discussion with you.” 

Soobin grins in response. Minjung starts swooning about their performance while you listen to Ju Rin, Gahyun and So Eun fight with Beom about something stupid.

“Hey, um,” He calls out to you after some time, Yeonjun making sure that nobody was really eyeing the two of you. “Could I have some time?”

Chicken. That’s what your heart is now. A headless chicken running around in your chest and if it were possible, screaming. 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” A gentle frown is bestowed upon the space between your brows. Yeonjun turns on his heels as you get up from the couch, eyes scanning the room and only one person meets eyes with you. 

Ju Rin eyes are gentle, but full of caution. Do not do anything stupid, her eyes say. 

By the time Yeonjun’s gotten you to a corner of the floor where there was nobody around and no camera in sight, you’ve already run into half the groups that were performing today. You even ran into Hyunjin on the way, who does nothing but politely greet Yeonjun and squint at you instead. 

But there was no doubt - your heart is racing and ramming so hard against the inner walls of your ribcage that would’ve been enough to fracture a rib. Sweaty palms and a damp back calls for an uneasy flapping of your top around your neck, absentmindedly wiping your hands against the pockets of your shorts. 

“What is it?” Shoving your hands into your pockets, you can only hope he doesn’t notice you’re shaking. 

Yeonjun peers over your shoulder to look behind you, though he doesnt’t really need to put in any effort to do so. After making sure nobody was around, he looks down at you, only because his eyes are easily a palm’s worth taller than you, probably more.

“Look, I just... I just wanted you to know that I am so grateful to have you in my life... I don’t think I could’ve done it so easily without you.”

What is this? A confession? No, it can’t be. Yeonjun’s not the type to risk his career for love - or is he? What’s he going to say? Hell, what am I going to say? I’m not prepared for this.

“I just wanted to tell you in person, in private that-”

Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

“You’re one of my best friends; you’re like a sister to me and I just... there’s nothing I could do to show you how much I appreciate you...”

His words have faded out. Your heart has stopped, simply from the exhilarating pot of emotions that’s completely died. 

This wasn’t the plan. He wasn’t supposed to friendzone me like this - no, sis-zone me.

“Uh, yeah.” The words. They are automatic. You are not processing them because they just slip off your tongue like a natural reaction. Your breathing’s shallow, but Yeonjun’s so far up in his cloud-nine that he doesn’t see it. “Of course. Anything for you. You’ve helped me through my training. It’ll be shit of me if I didn’t give back.”

You’re about to hurl, but he’s about to give you a hug he thinks would be healing, but you might just punch through a wall for being so foolish.

"Alright, I've said whatever I wanted to say. Man, it sure feels great to get these things off your chest."

Sure is.

Why didn't you see this? Why did you think he was going to confess? I am an absolute dumb piece of- low-life son of a-

"Hey," He calls out to you. He's already about a few metres from you, toes pointing to where you both came from. "You following or what?”

"Uh, I think I gotta use the washroom for abit."

"Oh," Yeonjun's shoulders sink a tiny bit. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm..." Your eyes wander off him, unable to maintain your gaze on him. It's unbearable, to know that you've played yourself so hard. "I'm fine. I just need to do a... number two."

Yeonjun winces, then cringes, then waves you off teasingly while half-jogging back to his own rehearsal room.

The walls of the corridor feel extra empty now, though they already are. The sunlight from behind you is heating up your back, because now you're feeling the cold, harsh reality of being the stupid on in all your dynamics. Grey streaks on white marbled floors reflect the fluorescent ceiling lights as you struggle to take a few steps to the washroom - not because you didn't want to go, but because you knew that once you were within the safety of 4 walls, nothing will stop the tears from running.

Stupid, wishful, hopeful dreaming.

The plastic toilet seat clanks against the ceramic bowl when you sit down, and leaning your forearms on your thighs, you force some breaths in before the tears seep out. You have to be quiet though, lest you want half the K-Pop industry to realise you've officially clowned yourself.

The tears finally kiss the floor. One drop, then two and three and four and your palm is over your mouth to stop the sobs from escaping your lips. But a creak of the toilet door shuts you up even more, though the hiccups from the sobbing's still making you emit more noise, against your wish.

The footsteps are light and careful, and you can hear the person push the doors of the other cubicles open. The unknown person tries your door and falters, feet remaining right outside the cubicle you are in. Tear stained hands of yours quickly wipe your face and cover your mouth before you can let another squeaky sob out, but nothing will prepare you for when you hear that voice.

"y/n?"

It’s a split second before you surge for the door and unlock it, eyes flooded with tears threatening to dribble over your lower lids. There’s a slight surprise in his face as his eyes widen an almost-unnoticeable amount. Then it’s replaced with empathy, which is strange because Minho’s been so caught up in chasing his dreams that you don’t think he’s felt this kind of heartbreak before, falling in love with someone who doesn’t know you’re in love with them. 

He doesn’t say anything before he drags you into his arms, palm resting on the back of your head, patting the space between your shoulder blades.

It echoes through the washroom, the sobs, drowning you more in your sorrows than you’re already providing yourself. The vicious cycle is only dampened as your tears no longer hit the floor, and instead creates a darker shade of material on his shoulder where your head was resting. 

“It’s okay,” For the first time in almost two years, Minho isn’t upset or unpleasantly surprised at your presence. 

It’s not the comfort his voice provides, it’s the comfort his voice brings that makes you erupt even more.

“I’m here.”

[J A N U A R Y 2 0 2 0]

The uncle that mans the honey-glazed apple store of the night market back home couldn’t be happier to see the two of you. It’s a surprise he could still make out who you were under the snow-covered caps and masks and haphazardly-thrown-together winter clothes. (Which deemed your disguise horrible.)

You could tell Minho was smiling because his eyes creased under the shade of the cap as the elderly man leans over the stand. He hands you the apples and cups the side of his mouth with his palm, whispering, “You have no idea how many people have come by asking if this is the stall Stray Kids Lee Know buys his honey-glazed apples from.”

“How do people even sieve out this information?” Minho chortles, taking the apples.

“Beats me, the younger generation is scary nowadays,” He pulls away and pulls more apples out from the ice box under the stand. “Especially with their gadgets and all.”

“It was nice seeing you again,” The words are slightly muffled by the mask, but you manage to get your point across. “We’ll come back soon.”

“Come back when you’ve debuted! It’s been so long, why haven’t I seen you on TV?” He frowns, and the lines on his face become accentuated. You can’t tell if the creases highlighted his wrinkles or it was the other way round. 

“I’ve just been training, ahjusshi, I still have a long way to go.”

“What’s your role gonna be?” He points to you, and his finger is trembling because that’s how old he is. “This rascal’s like- a dancer or something, right?”

“‘A dancer or something’, ha!” You snort, nudging Minho in his side, who grunts upon the physical contact. “I’ll be listed as a main dancer too. I thought I’d be the leader because I’m pretty old to debut compared to the kids nowadays but there’s someone else older and more mature.”

“You? Leader?” Minho sneers with a full mouth. “Please.”

The store holder smiles, only to be jolted out of his dream of his two self-proclaimed children when someone else comes by. 

“You two better beat it,” He squints at the two of you, helping you leave quietly without unwanted suspicion. “I’ll see you soon.”

Minho waves at him, and you happily sing out a “Bye!” since nobody would recognise your voice. 

You could swear that there were people who took a double take at your company, but Minho was so pre-occupied with his dessert that it doesn’t give the passerbys enough time to process who he was.

“So, what’s next?” You pull your mask down to munch on the apple, as Minho quickly pulls his mask back up when he notices more people taking second glances.

“Well, we are releasing English versions of Levanter and Double Knot later this month...” A pause as he struggles to remember his own schedule. “And then a Japanese release of the same songs in March.”

Laughing the last few words off, he knows how absurd it sounds, though he knows its for the benefit of the group. 

“Damn,” You snort through your nose and the vapour through the mask still manages to forms a cloud that you walk through. “Y’all turning into Mr. Worldwide now.”

Minho chuckles under his breath, gently shaking his head. 

There’s an overwhelming taste of nostalgia on your tongue when you notice the snow getting heavier as you walk to the bus stop, the crowd finally tailing off. The cap manages to protect your eyes from the falling snow, but some still manage to get onto Minho’s lashes as he frantically blinks and groans adorably, rubbing his eyes to get them out. 

You smile ever so slightly under the mask, though he can’t see it. The snow looks like gold flakes as it drizzles in the distance; around the amber-lit lamp across the road. Cars, vans, trucks drive past and time feels like it doesn’t exist for a split second. Minho stays still next to you, head gently turning to take in the view around him. 

“February 2016,” Loud enough to get through the mask, he manages. “And it’s already January 2020.”

“Wow, thanks for reminding me that I’ve put up with your shit for so long,” Shoving your gloved hands into the pockets of your coat, you roll your eyes to look at him. 

The chuckle he emits sounds like bells during Christmas. “Do you remember what happened that day?”

“Mhm,” Your eyes fall to the floor, snow already thinly coating your boots. “How could I not?”

“You know... I auditioned for Cube, and got rejected that day,” A pause. Looking at him from the corner of your eyes, you don’t tell him you saw the email. “If you weren’t there with me, I don’t think I could’ve held myself together. I thought that was it. I thought... I had no other chance.”

A car whirs past, the mixture of crunch of snow and slush of water when it drives past cues him to pause again. Maybe he was telling himself not to cry.

“But then you were there with me, and I don’t think anything else could’ve held me together as well. I just thought I couldn’t break down infront of you. You and the rest of the crew needed me, and I couldn’t stop then.”

The twitch in your forehead tells you that you are complete shit at holding yourself together. You had to blink the tears out from your eyes before they threatened to fall over and dampen the rim of your mask. There’s that silence in the air again, but it’s warm and cozy despite the snow. It’s like the time you’ve spent away from him has been compensated in these two months. It’s like nothing has changed, even though the world around you has.

“Thank you. For being there when you didn’t need to...”

A pause. You’re terrified to look at him because you know he’s looking at you.

“And I’m sorry for treating you like you meant nothing to me, because you mean alot.”

[spitpr1ncess]

BRUISED BODIES CHAPTER 5 LEVI ACKERMAN X READER

(not my image)

“That’s right send him away” Levi retorts.

“I was making her come for the hundredth time this morning, with all that pent up anger you should consider coming for yourself sometime, it’s a great relaxant buddy” Jean calls over his shoulder without missing a beat.

Jean pulls away first, a small string of your mixed saliva following and he quickly wipes it away with the back of his hand as he grins.

“Was that up to your standard?” he asks, proudly. It’s strange the way Jean kissed you, he was soft and gentle, totally in the moment, his hands are welcomed into the small of your back, one finding its way up your petite body to cup your soft cheek tenderly, he doesn’t want anything else than to just kiss you, a warm sensation forms in your lower abdomen.

“I’m not sure, can I sample it again please?” you can’t help yourself; you want to feel it again, you lean up and wrap both of your arms around his neck, leveraging yourself up into his mouth and eagerly waiting for him to let you in, his lips slot in perfectly, his top one in-between both of yours, playfully nibbling, you are the one who pries your tongue into his mouth this time, hungry to feel the cool silver again, unable to stop yourself from letting out the tiniest mewl when you do. Jean catches onto this and uses his large hand on the back of your head to pull you in harder, you swear you feel fireworks exploding from the pits of your stomach, egging you on, you pull away, not wanting to give the cute, blonde haired guy too much, you lead him back inside. The club is hot, the air thick with alcohol and various different perfumes, holding onto Jeans hand you scour the room for Harmony, gyrating bodies littering the dance floor and then you spot her, hands busy in Jeans friends hair, Jeans friends lips practically glued to Harmonies neck.

You make your way over to the busy pair, playfully pulling Harmonies hair in a bashful attempt to grab her attention, she turns around grins at you, pulling you in and away from Jeans grasp so she can whisper in your ear.

“Are we going now? You know I would have zero objections, right?”

“You’re supposed to be with Reiner! What if he finds out?” you are shocked with how nonchalant Harmony is being.

“We aren’t suited to be together, we’re only allowed to mix with normal guys, not Boss’s guys, you know just as well as I that we were on borrowed time, its been pending since the beginning of our little… fling. Way to be a boner killer, Olive, come on, let’s go home! You and blonde hair seem to be getting on well, don’t you want to find out what he’s… like?!” You grin from ear to ear.

“He has a tongue piercing Harm, do you think he’ll go down on me?” in the entirety of your career as a working girl, only a handful of clients have ever attempted, and they were abysmal attempts if that, none of them enabling you to reach your peak, you’ve heard stories from other girls who had been in proper relationships where they had been lucky enough to engage in it, but you've never been lucky enough.

“Only way to find out is to go home!” Harmony sings back, you roll your eyes at her and let out a sigh, resigned.  You take Jeans hand and squeeze; you nod your head toward the exit and the four of you trudge through the masses of drunkards to leave. It’s a short walk back to the house and you and Jean joke and laugh the whole way, it’s the first time in a while you’ve genuinely forgotten about your dull little life, and you’re happy, behind you, Harmony and Eren stop every five metres to kiss, completely enamoured by each other, you’ll be sure to tease Harmony about this tomorrow. You reach the gate and enthusiastically hit the buzzer, Jools must assume its you as he lets you in immediately, walking up the small path to the front entrance takes less than twenty seconds. You step into the main entrance area and Jools is sat, as always, like a dog guarding the front desk, it makes you wonder if he ever gets any sleep, Jools eyes the two unknown characters stood in his entryway, specifically the horse faced one seemingly attached to your arm.

“Jools, this is Jean, and…uh” you stumble over your words trying to locate the tall brown one’s name.

“Eren” Jean finishes, he flashes Jools a smile and nods toward Eren, attempting to introduce them, Jools doesn’t seem best pleased with the lack of interest from Eren, stood there at six-foot, with his brown hair thrown up into a loose bun, hands in his pockets, chewing on some gum. Jools then takes the time to look at you, obviously smitten with your catch you have rosy red cheeks and your lips are glossy from kissing him. A pang of jealousy hits Jools, he’d never admit it out loud as you guys have such a sibling like relationship, but he has always been fond of you, though he’s never made a move so knows he has no back leg to stand on and thus he just smiles at you sweetly.

“You guys gonna be around for breakfast? I’ll get the maids to lay the table if you want” you can sense that he’s uncomfortable but can’t figure out why, you leave it down to him being tired and grouchy at you guys coming back so late.

“Eh, probably no-“ Eren starts, it’s the first thing he’s said all evening.

“Yes, we’ll stick around for breakfast” Jean glares at Eren, and he glares straight back, if you weren’t here you might think they’d start arguing.

“We’re going to my room to.. watch TV, come on” Harmony takes off and Eren follows, like an eager puppy, and it is kind of endearing you suppose.

“Umm, us too Jools, see you tomorrow” you know you don’t have a TV, and so does Jools, nevertheless he lets you go, knowing full well what you’ll be getting up to, Jools calls out after you,

“Do you want a morning call sleepyhead? You don’t wanna miss breakfast again”

“Sure, just knock and I’m sure we’ll hear you!” again, the same pang of jealousy hits Jools like a tonne of bricks, he’d never say so out loud but he wished he was the one stumbling toward your bedroom with you, not him, he turns his attention back to the book he has folded over his computers keyboard.

You lead Jean down the long corridor of rooms, finally halting before the pale oak of your bedroom door, you unlock it, slowly turning the handle and suddenly, you are nervous.

“Don’t expect much, its not super fancy like yours probably is, and its-“ Jean cuts you off by pushing past, he steps onto the cold wooden floor and reaches for the light switch, a warm yellow hue filling each corner, you see him walk through your bedroom, taking in all your things, peering into the bathroom, admiring the size of your shower, the lines of lavish shampoos, body washes and conditioners, he turns back to you,

“You have a lot of expensive items; do you buy them yourself?” You scoff.

“Absolutely not, actually I hate them. They’re a constant reminder of my life here, as an object of the male gaze. I must look good, feel good, smell good, always. Its fucking exhausting.” A confused look crosses Jeans face, he mulls something over before starting,

“I suddenly realise that I may be feeding into the male gaze that so consumes your life, I didn’t come back with you for the sole purpose of getting into your panties, although it was  a healthy chunk of it to be honest, if you want to just sit and chat that’s okay, and if you want me to leave, that’s also okay, you just tell me what you want” Jeans genuine attitude shocks you, you’re unsure if it’s the residual alcohol or that you just so want him in that moment but the space between you quickly vanishes as you practically throw yourself at him. Your lips play that ever so favourable game of cat-and-mouse, licking, biting, teasing and pulling away, spurring the other on, Jeans tongue piercing causing you shivers that go all the way down to your toes. You moan, a little louder than previously in the smoking area earlier on and Jean physically shudders.

“Those little noises, you make, are, so, cute” he whispers through placing gentle kisses down your chin, reflexively you pull away as he gets closer to your throat, not used to such a gentle touch there, he pulls away and tries to read your suddenly anxious eyes.

“It’s just, I’m sorry, I’m not really used to having my throat treated so nicely” you blush as you feebly manage to whisper the words out, choking yourself on the difficult truth.

“Hey, it’s okay. Let me look after you, I won’t hurt you, unless you want me to?” he half smirks and you flick him on the nose, he snorts and then continues his descent down your throat as you inhale a soothing, deep breath. You allow the sensation to completely wash over any bad experiences you have had previously, Jean allows his large hands to run down the smooth curves of your back, cupping your ass he pulls you in closer as he places a strong leg between your thighs. Unknowingly, you begin to roll your hips against his leg, he groans and encourages you, lifting his knee a little, adding more pressure to your clothed sex, you sigh.

“Does it feel good?” he lifts his mouth from its mission of marking your neck gently, lacing it with gentle love bites.

“Yes” you moan quietly, Jean lifts the hem of your dress and you instinctively lift your arms, he lazily pulls it over your head, freeing you from its constraints, still wearing your heels, you gesture to them,

“Are you going to take those off too?” Jean looks down from your chest and the beautifully simple lingerie you had chosen, a black bralette and some very questionable in size barely-there-panties, he continues down your long legs, encased by your beautiful heels, your pedicured toes and smooth skin, he leads you to sit on the edge of your bed and kneels. Running a hand from your ankle to the top of your thigh he places your shoed foot on his shoulder, undoing the zip and sliding the heel off, setting it down to his right, he slowly lifts your leg off of his shoulder and allows you to place it on the floor. He repeats this with the other leg, situated between you he grabs your thighs and slides himself as close as possible. He licks his lips in anticipation and looks to you for approval, you smile and lay back, inviting him in, eagerly. He lets a moan out against your sex and the hotness of his breath is welcomed, you arch your back subconsciously in an attempt to get his mouth closer, it works and Jean kisses directly over your sensitive clit, followed by his tongue teasing you through the lace fabric of the panties currently blocking your full pleasure. You let out a sigh of absolute frustration.

“Jesus Christ”

“You shouldn’t cuss the Lord out like that, miss” you feel his smug grin against your thighs and giggle, as a response, Jean bites your thigh hard enough to leave a bruise, you grab a fistful of his hair and practically rub him against the slickness that has escaped the refines of black lace, he responds by reaching out and pulling them over your ass and down your thighs, you manoeuvre so he can remove them fully, wasting absolutely no time at all he presses his face into your slick pussy, inhales and growls a low, predatory growl, it sends signals to your brain that are so animalistic it awakens something inside of you, lust, absolute and complete lust for this man. Your slick is practically pouring out of you at this point, waiting for something, anything. Jean finally releases his pierced tongue from his hungry mouth and it makes contact with your ever sensitive clit, he rolls lazy circles around it, the hard texture of the metal so welcome that you can’t help but yelp out in absolute pleasure. He senses your enjoyment and licks you up and down, collecting your mouth-watering slick on his tongue, ravenous, he probes your hole, lapping and tasting, growling and getting riled up returning his tongue to work on your clit he tightens his grip on your thigh as if to steady himself, his pace is slow and deliberate, you roll your head from side to side, revelling in the feeling of pure bliss.

A familiar heat begins to grow in the pit of your stomach, still fisting his hair you’re practically begging for more without having to speak, he traces your hot opening, his middle finger collecting slick and running up and down your lips, he gently pushes in to the knuckle, a moan escapes you and he sighs right back. Thinking back to the club where you had noticed his rings, you feel them inside of you, cold, shaped, and rubbing in all the right places, unlike Boss and his, Jean was fucking hot, with his jewellery just adding to your arousal, he curls his long finger up to rub your walls, the pressure coming from inside and the sensation building from the outside stopping any rational thought from entering your mind. Feeling the change in your body Jean can tell you’re getting close, he speeds up his soft assault on your clit, adding his ring finger and stretching your tight hole out, he begins to slowly pump his fingers.

“Fuck. I’m close, I can feel it. I really want to come” you continue to moan and mewl and Jean doesn’t even hesitate; he continues to please you as the chase comes to an end, and like waves crashing over the rocks on a beach it completely immerses you, your body comes unravelled, your legs shaking, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, you give yourself to him completely. He kneels back and watches your chest heave up and down, watches your soft legs shake, watches the glossy look in your eyes subside, your peachy lips slightly ajar, your breath slows, and you notice him observing you, embarrassed, you cover your face with your hands.

“I’ve never, I’m sorry, I’ve never finished from that before. I felt like I was on another planet, thank you” you laugh out loud, and Jean looks at you puzzled.

“You mean to tell me that men come to you for pleasure, yet not a single one has ever…” he looks genuinely shocked and confused, you prop yourself up on your elbows and look at him.

“Nope. A lot of them think it’s dirty, a few have tried, and none have succeeded in… getting me there” you’re sure Jean puffs his chest out a little, you kick him playfully in response and lay back on your bed.

“In that case, I must be truly disgusting” he buries his face back into your sex, licking again, this time with the sole mission to make you come, like he needs it, “you look so fucking sexy when you come, I want to watch it all day long, I want to make you come all day long, I want to make up for every sorry excuse for a man who has ever come in here and left you unsatisfied”. It isn’t long before you’re coming again, and again, with Jeans mouth and fingers to blame. He didn’t seem like he was tiring at all, really, neither were you, but you wanted to give back to him. From your time spent working, you have self taught on the topic of giving good head, you sit up and pat the bed next to you, motioning for Jean to sit, he obliges like an eager puppy, interested in what was to come he sits and you get up only to kneel in front of him, looking directly into his eyes.

His crotch covered by black linen; you lick from where the bottom of his shaft would be right to the top and his breathing catches in his throat. Excited by the sight, you feel the blood pumping around your body speed up, you repeat the motion a few times, eye fucking him at the same time, begging for him, undressing him without really undressing him. It isn’t long before his precum has leaked through the cloth dressing his crotch, continuing to lick at the patch where he leaked through you reach your hands and hook them over the waistband of his linen trousers and the boxers underneath, he lifts himself off the bed so you can pull them down, freeing his cock from its restraints.

It’s sizeable in length and the girth is on the bigger size in terms of what you’ve taken before, excitement pools between your legs once again, eagerly you hold the base of his shaft and lick around his head, collecting his precum and teasing him at the same time. Jean hisses and reaches a hand to grab your hair, he pulls you in close and you tongue his shaft, up and down, pumping your hand languidly at the same time. You feel him roll his hips slightly to meet your hand each time it pulls back to the bottom of his shaft, full of wanton hunger you take him all the way down your throat, holding back tears and spending all of your concentration on not choking. Jeans head falls back in absolute pleasure. You pull back and let him fall out of your mouth, strings of saliva joining your tongue to his tip, you repeat again, taking him in, holding him, stopping tears and listening to him hiss at the pleasure of being wrapped by your tight throat. This time he looks down at you, his face is painted pink with a rosy blush, his eyes are soft, and he runs a thumb over your cheek.

“Stop holding back tears, I want to see you cry with how hard you’re trying for me”, you oblige, blinking, and freeing the tears from their painful constraints, Jean swipes one away with his thumb and smiles.

“Can I fuck you now, please?” The words shock you, but are welcome, rekindling the fire deep in your stomach.

“Yes” It’s practically a whisper, but to Jean, it feels like you’re shouting. He lifts you up and places you on your bed, the soft blankets welcoming you, eagerly you fall onto your elbows and stick your ass high up in the air, enticing him entirely, he steps behind you and lines up with your still-slick hole. He rubs his head up and down a few times, granting him a desperate mewl from you, it’s enough to confirm that you’re sure you want this and he sheaths himself to the hilt, hissing at how tight you are.

“Fuck” he groans, pulling out almost completely, you moan, worried he will take it all away, he rolls his hips and re-enters you, repeating this motion until you begin to buck your hips back into his, you both fuck each other, moaning, groaning, mewling and crying out, he reaches around to circle your sweet spot once again and you are simply confused and aroused by the way this man cares so much about your coming undone. You hear skin slapping skin, and instead of cringing like you did with Levi, like you do with Boss, and the other men, you welcome the sound, listening intently to how your bodies work together. Jean hastens his pace and you can tell he is close, all the signs are there, his furrowed brow, his hitched breath, his increasing grip on your ass, you moan and allow yourself to come again, clenching him tightly, this is the final straw and he pulls out, painting your behind with strings of warm come he grunts and works his erection until he stills.

Immediately embarrassed of the mess he’s made; he grabs a tissue from your side table and begins to clean you, not a word is spoken until he falls onto the blankets beside you, where he wraps a large arm around your waist and pulls you close.

“You are really something, you know?” he nuzzles into the back of your neck and you roll over towards him and you welcome the closeness.

“I think that we made some noise, it's likely that people will know what we have been up to, try not to be embarrassed. It’s pretty normal here” you trace your fingers over Jeans toned bicep, you move to get up and reach for Jeans t-shirt that was thrown on the floor in the heat of things, you pull it over your head and welcome the smell of his cologne.

“Are you thirsty? I’m going to grab a drink” Jean contemplates the sight of you in his shirt and you can tell he considers dragging you back to bed for another round, instead he hops up and grabs his boxers, “I’ll come with you, I could do with stretching my legs in any case” Pulling your bedroom door open you both wander down the corridor toward the main lobby, the kitchen situated directly across, sunlight is beginning to pour in through the large glass windows and you can see Jools snoozing at his post, it makes sense to see him catching some shut eye, you swear he never sleeps so it’s a welcome sight. It must be gone 6am, you’ve been at it for hours, you note that the maids usually arrive at 8 to begin preparing breakfast.

The kitchen is large, with multiple induction hobs and marbled surfaces, in the middle of the open space stands an island with an industrial sized sink, and a couple of bar stools are pushed under the end, Boss’s men perch here on their breaks so the maids can feed them, it's bright and full of natural light as a kitchen should be. You reach to a top shelf in one of the cupboards and pull two glasses out, you hop your bottom onto the one of the islands surfaces next to the sink, and beckon for Jean. He stands between your legs, hands on your thighs and you reach and fill the glasses, handing him one.

“A toast, to, uh” he begins, raising his glass.

“coming” you interrupt, you both laugh quietly, followed by you clinking your glasses together and drink greedily, thoroughly parched by the shenanigans of your night together, you reach out a hand and clasp Jeans face gently; you lean your face in to his and kiss him softly and he lets out a contented sigh. It’s your turn to litter kisses down his jaw, suckling and inviting blood to the surface, lacing him with little love marks. He moans at the sensation before whispering in your ear.

“Do you think I have enough time to make you come again?” he flashes you that boyish smirk and you stare at him.

“Here?!”

“No, in my mothers’ bed. Yes here, you ass” he rolls his eyes and you glance around nervously, looking for any sign of movement. Realistically the only person who might come in would be Jools, and he surely wouldn’t care, right? Lowering his face to your sex, you instinctively open them so he can have full reign, he starts again, licking, circling, kissing and teasing. It feels so right and wrong at the same time, he hits your sweet spot and you mewl quietly, mortified, you cover your own mouth with your hand. Jean smiles against you and you blush, but he doesn’t let up, it encourages him and he adds his fingers back to the mix, you’re sure he’s tenting in his boxers again, the thought making you salivate. You can feel yourself getting close, you throw your head back and open your mouth slightly, panting, but before you can close your eyes, you meet a cold gaze.

You meet a cold gaze.

You meet a cold gaze.

You snap upright, closing your legs and forcing Jean to stand up. You whip your head around and jump off the marbled surface.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Levi’s cold and disgusted, you can feel the judgement from a mile off. There’s no way. There is no logical reason for him to be stood in the house kitchen at 6’o’clock in the morning.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” you practically squeal at him. Levi stares straight past you to Jean, Jean staring straight back, you turn and are surprised that he is so composed, he doesn’t falter under Levi’s intimidating glare.

“You’re engaging in cunnilingus in the houses kitchen at 6’o’clock in the morning, what possible excuse do you have that would get you out of this?” it’s practically spat at you and you can feel the tension engulfing you. You mull it over for a second, starting an argument would wake Jools up, and then things could escalate quickly, what with Jools and Levi’s complete distaste for each other, if you don’t speak, Levi will do something awful, and you and Jean would be in terrible trouble.

You turn to Jean, “I can handle this, you go back to my room, I won’t be long” Jean gives you a knowing look and turns to leave.

“That’s right send him away” Levi retorts.

“I was making her come for the hundredth time this morning, with all that pent up anger, you should consider coming for yourself sometime, it’s a great relaxant buddy” Jean calls over his shoulder without missing a beat, Levi rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, you turn back to him.

“What are you doing here so early? Post shifts don’t start until the maids get here, and you don’t get posted here anyway?” He shuffles uncomfortably and you can tell he has no real answer to spit back at you, you lean on the counter, rolling one of the glasses against the marble, taking up space.

“I couldn’t sleep, I figured I could get something to eat and maybe wind Jools up. I didn’t expect to see you whoring yourself out to some random. It’s shameful really” his eyes fall to the floor.

“More shameful than being kept as a pet and whored out to fifty year old men? Or did you forget about my circumstances?” you place the two glasses in the sink for cleaning, paying his presence no mind.

“I didn't mea-”

“You left a note apologising after the other night, why pretend to care?” You question, he opens his mouth but pauses.

“I hate you, but I'm not a monster” he responds, you contemplate this answer, assuming that he just had a guilty conscience. You think about his erratic behaviour, how Jools had said he was acting strange, how Harmony had explained that he was interested in you. You mull over your feelings for him, he was nice, and he has potential but Harmonies words ring through your mind, “we were on borrowed time”, you realise in this moment that she was right, and the fact that if he even did have feelings for you, which you can't prove, he's just admitted once again, that he hates you. You're exhausted, you sigh, and press a finger against your temple.

"If you hate me, maybe you can fuck off then? I'll fuck who I want, and there's no reason for you to report me is there? You forget that this is my home, and for the short while each day that I am not labelled as a money maker, this is my life.

You’re tired of his erratic behaviour, turning away to leave he calls out,

“I know that you wanna run away, I can sense it, Are you gonna deny the truth?” You’re taken aback by this but continue your descent back to your room.

“You’d have to be a psychopath to accuse me of such a thing without proof.” and with that you pass by Jools, who is still out for account, and reach your bedroom. You open the door, step in and close it behind you, the light is off and Jean is tucked into bed waiting for you, “I won’t ask, it’s none of my business, but what I will ask, is if you want to have a cuddle” he smiles at you. You pull Jeans t-shirt over your head and slide in next to him, your eyelids heavy but his arm heavier, clasping around you and holding you in closely as you finally find rest. Your breathing merges and in a few minutes, you’re both dreaming.

-

Levi sits in the kitchen, sipping an espresso and mulling over what you’d shouted back to him, “you’d have to be a psychopath", maybe so, but as someone else who is trying to run away, he senses a lot of himself in you. He doesn't know it yet but he detests you so much because he's worried you'll slip up, that you'll make a mistake, and that he will end up cleaning your body up and disposing of the evidence you were ever alive, he sighs and crosses his legs, checking his watch before standing up to leave.