#it was a split second reaction until she gets pulled back to acting out her part during the distortion section. wonder why...

[aria0fgold]

So the loops Does have something to do with Siffrin's wish (I can't remember it... I think he included all the family members there, about the stuff he's looking forward to do with the others after beating the king) And since talking to Euphrasie means everyone goes their separate ways, Siffrin's wish doesn't really... get granted? in way. Either way, what's happening right now has something to do with Siffrin's wish (considering how he's the only one that knows the proper ritual too). But what exactly is... rotting? There's still the mystery bout the country too hmmm...

[batrogers]

Okay, fine, revisiting my “Time has PTSD” arguments in light of the most recent updates.

I’ve previously analyzed the question of Time’s reaction to the letter in Dawn pt. 9 here, and established my baseline that – what we do know about Time’s backstory strongly implies that there has been conflict in his Hyrule post-Ocarina of Time and Majora’s Mask which may have predisposed him to have strong, negative reactions to recent events like Twilight’s injury. I also did a revisit of that in the first part of Moving Forward, where Wild and the others were playing and Time seemed disconnected and out of it.

After the past few updates, I admit it’s striking to me that we’ve now gotten three sets of double-panel reactions where Time is blank for several seconds before actually displaying an emotional response (if he does at all.) It’s a really interesting choice on Jojo’s part.

This is literally every update except for “Enter...” since Dawn pt 9 (an update in which nobody talks at all.) Ever since the letter, Time has had a marked lack of response to the others. He’s reserved; he’s pulled back from treating them as comrades but he’s also retreated from giving orders. I noted in my last analysis that it looked like Time was calling the shots – but he’s not actually continued doing that. Once they set out, it seems like he’s just.... stopped.

Stopped engaging with them, and stopped reacting until something drastic (like the skultula, or bewilderment about the Epona comment) forces him to react, as happened with the likelike ages back.

A brief repeat of my prior analysis: while it’s been three years for us, between the last time Time smiled (when Sky asked him about Malon in ‘Miss Her’) to now, in-comic it has been maybe a few days, depending on how long Twilight took to recover. In that time, they battled Dink (who they don’t yet understand) Twilight ran off alone, showed back up and was taken out in seconds. Time made the split-second decision to save Twilight rather than battle an iron knuckle ala his era, and now we’re here.

Something I noticed on revisiting analysis is that we have seen Time get upset and off-balance before: when Wind began asking him about the Hero’s Legacy as well. Some of what people say when they analyze Time & Twilight stuff is how Time acts towards Twilight, as his son/descendent – but Wind is, in a sense, also Time’s successor and he reacted much the same way to him, too. Notably, Twilight in the midst of his injuries explicitly states some of his stubbornness is about his feelings about said legacy – both when he refuses to rest in the immediate, and while delirious in bed.

Whatever Time’s own burdens, Twilight very well may have actively made Time worse without realizing it. Knowing that someone looks up to you and has pushed himself to nearly dying would upset anyone, nevermind someone who possibly has been a commander (and, therefore, responsible for other people's safety) before too.

The tension of the Chain struggling to to sort themselves out in the dungeon is not helping, although I don't think everyone is oblivious to it. Warriors attempted to reassure him when they discussed the Iron Knuckle's survival, and they do still defer to him (Sky looks for his approval before entering the portal) even if they don't let his bad mood ruin theirs. (eg. Despite his scolding over the skultula, Entrance pt 2 is a playful scene.)

Time was not always like this. He’s playful, teasing the others and showing off his masks; he’s not nosy or controlling– he lets Legend refuse to explain his hair – but not entirely closed off, ala Sky asking him about Malon. I don’t think Jojo intends him to be a grumpy no-fun asshole (she drew this dayglo nonsense in the middle of Twilight taking forever to die), so I wonder.

What is the reason for his stress? And where is Jojo going with it? I’m deeply curious to see how the dungeon is going to play out, when someone who should be among their strongest members is so compromised. I don't think it's gone unnoticed, and my prediction (and, tbh, hope because I like the dynamic) is that Warriors may step in and try to get Time to calm down...

But mostly I wrote this to reiterate my feelings: I don't think this is "a bad mood." Time is legitimately upset, possibly triggered, and I am very sure -- as much as Twilight may have caused it -- it's not just about him.

(And, let me repeat bc I'm sure someone will try to take this and run with it: Twilight is not responsible for this.

He is not guilty in any way with respect to Time's trauma or subsequent behaviour; there's no way he could've known this would happen. I hope if it does keep coming up someone steps between them to cut it off... but acting like Twilight did nothing to set this off downplays how the group dynamic affects everyone and has the potential to cause conflict all on its own.

It's ten times more interesting to see that Time is reacting to something Twilight actually did, than some nebulous attachment to an idea of "family" that overrules sense, reason, or having met each other literally days or weeks ago at best.)

[blueeyedheizer]

Can you please write a smut where Cassie is being a brat flirting with other people in front of the reader because the reader hasn’t been giving her the attention she wants. The reader snaps and brings her to the nearest secluded space and ruins her

she's getting on your last nerve.

you watch from your slumped position on the couch, jaw tightened in irritation as cassie openly flirts with some guy she's only just met. her hands are a little too touchy for your liking, brushing against his arm while she laughs at his dumb jokes and smiles at him for longer than necessary.

you know she's doing it on purpose just to rile you up. she's been begging for your attention all day, acting all fussy and bratty whenever you told her to wait and behave.

her eyes flicker towards you every so often, a mischievous glint in them as she gauges your reaction. the sight of it sends a fresh wave of irritation through you, and you can feel your patience wearing thin.

you keep your eyes on her as you finally decide to get up and close the distance, your heart pounding in your chest. with a practiced smile, you slide a hand across her lower back as you reach her, the touch making her tense for a split second. your hand glides upward until it tangles in her hair, and you give a gentle tug—not hard enough for anyone to notice, but just enough for her to feel it.

"having fun, princess?" you don't wait for a response, your fingers tightening in her hair, nearly tugging her head back. The guy she’s flirting with glances your way, oblivious to the silent exchange happening right in front of him. “I think it’s time we head out,” you say, the underlying command in your tone unmistakable.

she's got you right where she wanted you.

she gives the guy a quick, dismissive smile before turning her full attention to you, letting you practically drag out of the building and to your car. you open the backseat door for her, watching as she slides in and tucks her legs comfortably behind the front seat.

but you've got other plans.

"what do you think you're doing?" you mumble, tugging at her thigh so she's facing you again, her legs dangling off the car. your hand wraps around her throat and you squeeze, settling between her legs.

Cassie looks up at you, her eyes wide as she props herself up on her forearms, her breath hitching slightly as she nervously glances around the parking lot. her eyes follow your movements are you crouch down, her legs on either side of your shoulders.

"wha- what are you doing?" she stammers.

"you wanna be a whore so bad, might as well treat you like one." your fingers hook around the hem of her panties underneath her dress and you swiftly slide them down, nearly ripping the fabric off her. "keep your legs open. don't try to run away. if you do, i'll bring you back inside and fuck you in front of everyone so you can learn your fucking lesson."

your arms hook around her thighs and cassie barely has time to proceed what's happening when she feels the hot press of your tongue against her pussy, followed by a harsh suck. she gasps, one hand flying to clutch onto your hair and tug — hips lifting off the seat to grind against your mouth. she doesn't realize how loud she's being until you're pulling away and spanking her clit.

she cries out, her legs closing around your head.

"What did I just say?" you snap, roughly grabbing her jaw before slapping her cheek, making her gasp at the impact. Cassie mutters an apology, her legs opening again.

“You like pushing my buttons and pissing me off, don’t you?” you murmur, getting up to press your lips onto hers. You start patting her swollen clit, the taps firm and quick. She's panting and whimpering, muttering out apologies, her face flushed red from a mixture of both embarrassment and need as you kiss down her neck and find her entrance, immediately slipping two fingers in.

you start fingering her furiously, muttering all sort of degrading words as she soaks your hand in her arousal.

she's so close, you can feel how hard she starts to clench around your fingers, how uncontrollably her thighs start to quiver...and when she starts begging for you not to stop, when she's right on the edge of coming — you deny her the orgasm she's been craving, withdrawing your fingers to spank her clit again, hard.

"aww, you thought I'd give you what you want, just like that?" you coo, a smirk playing on your lips as you watch her squirm and sob. "that's too bad, baby. sluts like you don't get to come so easily."

[pigeonwhumps]

Begging for a quick death AU

Taglist: @annablogsposts @dont-touch-my-soup @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch @thaliaisalesbian

From this. Featuring Phoenix, Kai and Aaron from Immortal Cannon Fodder, and Isabel from Out of the Frying Pan.

Phoenix in this AU only heals fast when they're dead. They don't have the living healing factor.

Taglist peeps, lmk if you don't want to be tagged in new aus. Especially for Immortal Cannon Fodder bc I have like three (at least) in the works for that.

1.4k

CWs: immortal whumpee, begging for death, conditioned whumpee, broken neck (both the act of and the immediate aftermath), possibility of stabbing (doesn't happen), mentioned stabbing, whumpee thinks caretaker is going to hurt them, implied terrible (nearly non-existent) medical care, broken wrist, sprained ankle, sadistic whumper, implied/mentioned resurrection, temporary character death, fear of punishment

Phoenix is following Isabel in a fast-paced jog around the compound grounds when their vision blurs and they waver from exhaustion, stumbling off the path. Their foot slips, ankle turning, and they slam hard into the concrete floor, reactions too sluggish to even catch themself. Their brain seems to reverberate around their skull for a minute, vision white, and when they're able to tell which way is up they try to push themself to their feet, ignoring the screaming pain. They only make it to their knees, ankle collapsing when they try to put their weight on it.

That's okay. Isabel wouldn't like it if they were still on their feet after failing so badly anyway.

The weight is agony on their skinned knees but they hold the position, hold their expression, just as they've been taught, as Isabel marches over, face tight.

"What the hell have you you done to yourself now?" she asks, anger and scorn dripping from every word.

"I have a badly sprained ankle and skinned knees, ma'am, and, um, my face–"

"I can see your face. You're pathetic. You can't stand, can you?"

"No, ma'am." They know what's going to happen now. It'll be over a month until they can run and fight again properly, and the leaders can't afford to wait that long. "Please will you kill me quickly, ma'am?"

Isabel pulls out her dagger and examines it, stroking the blade. Phoenix feels a split-second of hope before she shakes her head, stowing the weapon back under her clothes.

"No. No, you don't deserve that, and I have my own training to do. If this doesn't work on a weak, unresisting weapon like you it won't work on proper opponents." She strides behind Phoenix, placing her hands on their shoulders. "Arch your back a little. You'll be unconscious before too long, but I hope you suffer first, as your punishment."

Phoenix obeys, trembling, and Isabel hooks a warm, bare arm tightly around their neck. Isabel's too close, her warm breath on the back of their neck, they can't see what she's doing, they can't move, her arm is too tight and it feels like they can't breathe.

She yanks their head round, pulls it up, drops them. Two heartbeats and it's done.

Somewhere in that, something snapped. Now they really can't breathe.

They gasp for air, still, air they can't take in, their breathing gets faster, they're desperate for air but they can't get any, oh, god, they can't breathe, their vision greys around the edges and everything fades.

They pass out, panicking and defenseless, still unable to breathe.

_

"Pass me that book, will you, Phoenix?"

Phoenix is helping Kai clean up the front room, while Aaron works on the infirmary. They've got visitors coming tomorrow, friends of Kai and Aaron's, and Phoenix is just on the edge of panicking about it, but now they have more immediate problems.

Their wrist is broken. It's still throbbing when they move it, it looks a bit off, just enough to only be noticeable to them, but they can't tell anyone or they'll be killed. They've been doing a pretty good job of hiding it, too.

They swallow hard and hold their expression still as they pick up the book with their injured hand. They keep their face still, completely still, still as they were taught, as they pass Kai the book.

Maybe it's a little too still, maybe they're a little too stiff, but whatever it is, Kai catches it and frowns, setting down the book.

"Are you okay?"

Phoenix nods, heart just about ready to explode out of their chest. "I'm fine, sir. I just, um, I was thinking of something." An offence, surely, but less of one than breaking their wrist out of their own stupidity.

"Sit down for a minute." Kai sits down himself and pats the sofa, and Phoenix joins him apprehensively, perching tentatively on the edge. "You're not in trouble. I just don't believe that excuse. Does anything hurt? Physically, emotionally, anything else?"

Phoenix looks away. It always hurts emotionally, Kai's going to kill them. They don't want to tell him the truth, but they know he won't accept nothing for an answer.

"My, um, my wrist is broken."

Kai nods. "Aaron! We need you! And bring the first aid kit!" Phoenix flinches. "Sorry. Will you show me your wrist?"

Phoenix stretches out their arm, biting their lip when he takes it carefully in his hand, examining their slightly swollen wrist.

"Please will you kill me quickly, sir?"

Kai looks up, horror plainly visible. "No. Phoenix, god no, I'm not killing you."

Phoenix frowns. What's he going to do then?

Kai sighs, rubbing their shoulder in a manner they think is meant to be comforting (because, well, it kind of is). "You can drop the sir, too. When did you do this?"

"Two days ago." Kai nods, and they hesitate before saying, "Can I ask a question?"

"Go ahead."

"Why, um, why didn't you believe me? How do you always know?"

Kai strokes Phoenix's hair back gently. "Your face was too still. Too stiff. It's the expression you make when you're desperately trying to hide what you think or feel."

"Oh." They wish they could be more articulate, but they don't know what else to say. No-one's ever cared enough to notice that before – so long as they weren't crying, it was fine.

And it is care, not looking for reasons to punish them, they know that now. It took them a while but they're getting there.

"Yeah."

Aaron enters the room and strides across to Phoenix, kneeling down in front of them. They shift uncomfortably. Nobody should be kneeling to them.

"What's wrong, Phoenix?"

"I've broken my wrist," murmurs Phoenix. "Um, two days ago."

"Right. The swelling should have mostly gone down by now, but I'm going to splint it anyway for a few days before we put a cast on. Does it hurt?"

Phoenix nods, unsure what most of those terms mean but knowing it does hurt, and Aaron rummages in the first aid kit, pulling out a packet of pills and popping a couple out. He hands them to Phoenix along with the glass of squash on the side table.

"Here, take these. They should help."

"Thank you."

Phoenix swallows them gratefully, watching as Aaron rummages in their bag again. They're looking for something else. A splint, maybe? They don't know.

Kai clears his throat, and they snap their gaze to him.

"You were begging for a quick death. Have I done something to make you think I'd kill you?"

Phoenix shrugs. "That's just how it works. If the injury's, um, going to affect my performance for more than, um, a few hours, then I'm killed, and I heal quicker. It's just, um, not always quick unless I deserve it. So I thought you'd kill me."

There's a beat of silence.

"So when I found you bleeding out... that was normal? That's why you were so surprised?"

Phoenix nods. The months since Kai found them bleeding out after being injured in a training mission and helped them, brought them to his and Aaron's base instead of handing them in or ignoring them, have been one surprise after another.

Kai grips their shoulder tightly. Comforting-tight, not painful-tight.

"Never. I'd never, we'd never kill you, Phoenix. That's not how things work around here."

"What happens, then?" asks Phoenix, confused. Why would they not be killed?

"I patch you up," says Aaron, wrapping the split too carefully around their outstretched wrist, "and then we let it heal. Normally. With painkillers. No death involved."

"With painkillers?"

"Yeah. With painkillers. Like the ones I just gave you. We won't leave you in unnecessary pain."

"But–"

"No," says Kai firmly. "You won't learn from it, or whatever the reason you want to stay in pain is. Any pain is unnecessary, and I won't stand for it. Neither will Aaron."

"Oh."

Phoenix frowns. They don't understand why Kai's so insistent on giving them painkillers. But they're not complaining.

For the first time ever, they actually feel safe. The threat of being disposed of when they're no longer useful isn't as ever-present, they're not in pain for the first time they can remember.

And they haven't died once since Kai and Aaron brought them home.

[phillippadgettwrites]

The First Time, Every Time: Squeeze

Rated X / 1234 words / Posted on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

It was bold of her to accuse him of acting territorial in the first place. Because she could have just as easily been referring to herself as the work. Because she knew she was baiting him, hoping for some kind of reaction. She’d expected him to get hot, temperamental, defensive maybe. She can’t yet admit to herself that she finds his displays of passion so captivating that she’s begun actively trying to elicit them; even if he’d gotten upset and told her she was wrong, she’d have gotten something out of it. But that wasn’t how he’d responded at all.

She can still feel the weight of her necklace shifting as he carefully unwound it from around one of her breasts, adjusting the pendant just so. The soft, affectionate expression on his face as he openly admitted that he was being territorial, and not about the work. About her. But it wasn’t his possessiveness alone that made heat blossom between her thighs. It was that little addendum: “If you want to continue working with them, I won’t hold it against you.”

It was his complete lack of an attempt to persuade her in either direction that made her heart start to pound as she watched him walk away. Her decisions are often so clouded by the expectations of others that she can’t be sure what she really wants, but Mulder expects nothing. Absent the weight of all those outside opinions, the right choice was immediately clear: follow Mulder. See what discoveries lie in wait along his less-traveled path. It’s the objectively wrong choice by any sane measure, but she felt no hesitation in making it. In following him, literally, up the stairs and into the records room.

It emboldens her to make other wrong choices. Offering to drive him home when he admits that the blur of the microfiche has given him a headache. Asking to come up and use his bathroom when she could easily wait twenty more minutes until she’s back at her apartment. She wants him to look at her like that again, like he wants her but won’t fight for her. Like he wants her to do what’s best for her, not for him. Like what she wants matters.

It’s when she realizes that no man in her life has ever prioritized her wishes for herself above his own that she kisses him. There is a split second of stark fear, of terrifying realization. Her blood runs cold and her full rational faculties come slamming back into her prefrontal cortex with a jarring buzz, and she begins to pull away from him. But just as she made the unwise choice to follow him, he makes the unwise choice to follow her. He kisses her back. Her brain goes offline once more.

It’s like a movie. Like one of those cliche scenes where they simultaneously kiss and tear off each other’s clothing, mysteriously leaving the woman’s bra on the entire time. Her heels are still on her feet but Mulder has to slouch to reach her, and once she’s in only her bra and panties he smoothly escorts her down to his worn leather couch.

She allows herself to look at his face above her as his eyes tear hungrily down her body. She sees that same passion that he brings to his investigations, dogged and determined, and her cunt throbs at the idea of him bestowing such vigor onto her. She wonders if he eats pussy as thoroughly as he chases down leads, and her cheeks warm. She doesn’t even think she’d want him to do that, doesn’t think she’d feel comfortable, but then he starts tugging her panties off her hips and she’s overwhelmed with the desire to feel his tongue against her clit.

As though reading her mind, his eyes flash up to hers and he tilts his head slightly and asks, “May I?” with so much decorum you’d think her cunt was the Holy Grail.

She doesn’t remember saying yes, though she’s sure she did. She feels the heat of his mouth against her skin and the plunge of his tongue inside her, and the rest of the world fades away. He makes her come, which surprises her; she’s always fancied herself a bit of a challenge, sexually speaking. What’s more, it’s clear that he has no expectation that she’ll reciprocate. That only makes her want to fuck him more.

She grabs eagerly at the fly of his jeans, struggling with the button and hurting the tips of her fingers as Mulder chuckles with amusement. He stands and does the honors himself, pushing stiff denim down to his knees and revealing the stiff cock that’s hidden beneath them. She has the passing thought that maybe she’ll just blow him, but she is not nearly as selfless as he is, and she tugs on his arm to encourage him to sit down before she climbs into his lap.

“Oh my god,” she whispers as he takes him in slowly, and she can feel the stretch of his prideful smile against her cheek. It doesn’t even bother her—he should be proud, walking around with that magnificent thing under his dockers.

He grips her by the hips as she rides him, a slow grind that still allows them to kiss sloppily. She wants to see him come, to know what he looks like when he loses control in that way. He’s so big, so bright, so fascinating in ways she didn’t know existed until she walked into his basement office and shook his smooth, un-calloused hand. More. She wants more.

“Can you come again?” he asks her, his chivalry apparently boundless.

“Uh-uh,” she murmurs, though it isn’t really true. She just wants to see him fall apart, to feel him. She just wants to know him in every possible way that she can.

He ruts up into her, taking control from below, and she gasps at the press of him against her cervix. And then he fucks her, truly fucks her, sending her bouncing lewdly in his lap with little staccato slaps of skin on skin. She catches his eye and finds that he’s not looking at her body—he’s intently focused on her face. It should be too intimate, too present, too much—but it’s not. He looks her right in the eye as he surges and then peaks, his eyelids falling closed only briefly when the height of it overwhelms him. And seeing him like that, moaning and writhing, emptying himself inside her—she comes again.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he professes offhandedly, slowly gyrating until there’s nothing left to pull from his body or hers.

Slowly, they collect themselves and find their way back into their haphazardly discarded clothes. Scully realizes that somehow her bra stayed on the entire time. She waits for the inevitable drop of shame and embarrassment, but it doesn’t come. She’s not even afraid that he’ll ask what it meant—it seems perfectly clear to her that it doesn’t have to mean anything.

It was her choice. To join the FBI. To take the assignment on the X-Files. To follow Mulder. To fuck him. Maybe it was the wrong one, but it was hers to make.

She’s done worrying about what other people think. Mulder’s ideas may be a bit out there, but he’s a great agent, and so is she. Together, they just might be unstoppable.

[thecareandkeepingofwhumpees]

Content warnings: blood-drinking, dehumanization, alcohol, self deprecation, and starvation. Please ask if you need any added.

Tokito ran his fingers over his ribs. All twenty-four were clearly defined, standing out against his pale skin. He was so hungry.

His fingers eventually moved their exploration to the muzzle that was keeping him from the nutrients he so desperately needed. He hated it, hated the gnawing in his gut, hated how desperation clouded his mind and made him act like the animal Wallace believed him to be.

“Do you remember what’s happening this evening?” were the words Wallace used to announce his presence. Before waiting for Tokito’s response that he did, in fact, remember what was happening that evening, and had been dreading it all week, Wallace answered his own question. “Of course you don’t. It’s okay, I know you’re just a dumb little pet. This evening I’m having a guest over for dinner, and you will be the entertainment. Do you think you can put on a show for her?”

Tokito curled his lips back in a sneer and growled.

“Ooh, feisty! Yes, that would be perfect.”

There was no real way for Tokito to win in this situation.

Wallace adjusted the place settings at his dining table, then moved on to do the same with the art on his walls. The busywork wasn’t doing much to soothe his nerves. Rich and powerful, the lady he’d be hosting was definitely one to impress. The fact that his place in high society was relatively new would make that difficult, but he was determined to do so, and his new pet could only make it easier.

The ringing of his doorbell startled him out of his nervous reverie. He left the painting alone to open the door, but doubled back a split second later to make one final adjustment to the frame’s tilt.

Satisfied, he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and opened the door.

When Wallace dragged Tokito out to meet his guest, it was with a finger hooked around a strap of his muzzle, making the leather press against the back of his neck in a way that was sure to leave a mark. He showed him off like a proud owner at a dog show. He forced him to obey a series of commands, making sure to emphasize the fangs that jutted out past his lips.

At one point, Tokito’s eyes connected with those of Wallace’s guest. They were wide, and looked almost horrified. He wasn't surprised. That wasn’t exactly an unusual reaction for someone who was seeing a vampire for the first time.

Once Wallace had had his fun, he locked Tokito up in a spare room, leaving the key far out of reach yet tauntingly in sight.

When Edmée had received an invitation from Wallace, announcing that he had something he’d like to show her, she hadn’t exactly been sure what to expect. She’d always had a bad feeling about the man, but, with no proof to back it up, she’d shoved the feeling aside.

Well, she’d gotten the proof she wasn't looking for.

Wallace's big surprise turned out to be… a man he was holding captive? She wasn’t sure why he assumed that admitting that he’d committed a criminal offense would endear himself to her, and she wasn’t exactly fond of the implications.

She waited, playing nice and making idle chatter, until his mind and limbs were heavy with wine. At that point, she excused herself under the pretext of needing the restroom. The vampire was curled into a fetal position when she found him, as if he were trying to protect his stomach.

“Hello,” she said, crouching down on the floor opposite him. “My name is Edmée — maybe Wallace already told you that. I’m sorry that he’s been doing this to you; I’m sure you don’t deserve it. I can get you out of here, and you can stay the night at my house if you’d like. I’ve definitely got the room to spare.”

Tokito had no idea what was happening.

His eyes, clouded in equal parts suspicion and desperation, searched the woman in front of him for any clue. Eventually, desperation won over. He pulled himself to a standing position with great difficulty, given his weakened state and the fact that it wasn’t an action Wallace was particularly fond of. Standing but still hunched around his stomach, he made to follow her.

They had to walk past Wallace to get to the door, and yet he didn’t realize what was going on until they’d nearly passed him. “Hey, where you goin’?” he slurred. When he was met with no response, he forced himself to his feet, trying to catch up to them on unsteady legs. Mercifully, he tripped on air and fell hard. It was an odd experience for Tokito, seeing the man who’d held so much power over him be laid low by something as simple as wine — and, if he were being honest, a bit shameful. He’d really let himself be controlled by this?

Edmée pulled him into her car, buckled both of their seatbelts, and sped off. Once they were what she deemed a safe distance away, she pulled over. Turning to face him, she asked, “Do you want me to take the muzzle off?”

That was, for her sake, a terrible idea, but the hunger fogging his mind rendered him unable to say no. He nodded desperately.

Reaching over and taking a utility knife out from her glove compartment, she began to saw at the muzzle's leather strap, careful and excruciatingly slow.

The second he was free, he lunged forward, sinking his teeth into her neck. She stiffened at the — well, he’d call it unexpected contact, but really, what was she expecting?

Edmée, generally a fan of charity, had routinely given blood for a few years. She was used to the feeling, and expected her current experience to feel similar. She wasn’t exactly wrong. When she ran a hand down the vampire’s all-too-prominent spine, she felt him jump slightly at the touch, and then melt into it. She was distantly reminded of her pet cat.

Another benefit of her prior experience with blood being taken is that she knew to stop when she began to feel dizzy. It took a little time, given that she’d just eaten, but the lightheadedness was inevitable.

“I’m sorry, but I need a break,” she told him. He whined, but at her prodding pulled away with little resistance, looking up at her with half-lidded eyes. She leaned his seat back for him. “You can sleep now. Stay the night at my house, and we’ll figure the rest out in the morning.”

Tokito yawned like a cat, showing off his still-blood smeared fangs, and drifted off to sleep.

[cannedpeachesxp]

Back:drop (Part III)

AO3 Link

Previous / Next

Quick Summary:  In which Penniton learns some new lessons, the hard way.

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

“Those aren’t monkeys,” Penni said in a low voice, backing away from the monsters as more crowded near her.

“Emblem heartless, just the kind we’re looking for,” Demyx said “You can tell by the heart emblem on their chests.”

Penni stayed silent.

Visualize, visualize, visualize…

“Now would be a good time to use that keyblade of yours Penni,”

Visualize, visualize, visualize,

“Penni?”

Something like this should’ve been easy for her. She had the ability to take out these bugs, so why couldn’t she just whip out her key and get it over with?

Why was she shaking?

She didn’t even have the chance to process it, one of the heartless suddenly took a lunge at her, much too fast for her to react.

Much too fast for her to scream.

No claws ever reached her though, as she was harshly pulled away from the line of impact, then just a second later she heard the loud ‘twang!’ of a guitar ring out, and a powerful blast of water shot right at the heartless, knocking it to the ground.

“Don’t blank out on me like that, Penni!”

Penniton blinked a few times, taking in heavy breaths after subconsciously holding them. She was surprised to see the large, if not oversized, instrument Demyx was gripping, the intricate design of it catching her interest for a split second.

“Demyx…did you do that?” Penni breathed out, clutching her heart, feeling a slight ache in her chest. It was probably the anxiety of the situation.

“Well, yeah, but-” The blonde strummed a few more strings of his guitar, a veil of water surrounding the two of them, it kept the heartless away from them momentarily, giving the girl time to think. “-what happened just now? You froze up completely.”

Penni frowned, as much as she’s been nagging Demyx, when it came to actually acting she wasn’t being much of a team player. The least she could do was give him an explanation for her nonsensical behavior. “I…can’t do this, I can’t summon my keyblade- I’m scared just looking at those things!”

Honestly, Penni expected Demyx to freak out, or get upset, some sort of negative reaction. But instead of any of those, he calmly said, “I get that all the time, stop thinking about how scared you are and push that feeling back, focus on another feeling.”

“Push it back?” Penni thought about it for a moment, she thought about what else she was feeling about the heartless besides being afraid of them. She thought about what they had done to her world and home, and how angry she felt because of it. A familiar burning sensation filled Penni, the more she dwelled on, the more she felt the desire to hit those heartless as hard as she could. And soon, she felt the heaviness of the keyblade in her hand. The girl couldn’t help but exclaim gleefully, “Hey, it worked!”

“Alright, now give those heartless a run for their money!” Demyx shouted, the water veil dropping. Penni immediately rushed out at the heartless, slamming her keyblade as hard as she could into their bodies. Almost tripping from the amount of force she put into her attacks.

She quickly regained her balance, continuing to smack around the creatures until none were left.

She whacked the final heartless with her blade causing its existence to end, its body manifesting a pink, glistening heart that floated up into the sky before disappearing as well.

“A heart…” She gently muttered, her chest greatly heaving. The grip on her keyblade loosened as she looked around to see there were no more dark creatures surrounding her, she could calm down now.

As the girl caught her breath, she looked at the sky for a moment. There were a lot of heartless just now, and from what Penni knew. All of those creatures were living people once; who somehow lost their hearts. But how does one lose a heart versus simply dying of natural causes and passing on? If there’s a difference, and you lose your heart and turn into a heartless, can your life never be redeemed after that? Penniton’s face twisted in confusion for a moment, shaking her head at the thought. There was no need to rack her brain over those questions.

Besides, the implications of them frightened her.

“I knew you could do it, Penni!” Demyx said, “Y’know, you're pretty good with that keyblade, you kinda reminded me of some sort of baseball player.”

Penni let out a giggle, holding her keyblade like a big metal bat. “Batter up!” She stated, giving the blonde a grin. That’s when she noticed something left behind on the ground, yellow orbs all scattered about. Upon closer inspection, she was able to recognize what the distinguishable object was.

“Munny?” Penni questioned, picking up a few of the orbs in the palm of her hand.

“Yeah! All the heartless drop some.”

“Hm, that’s gonna come in handy.” She picked up the rest of the coins, slipping the small pile into her coat pockets. “By the way, you didn’t do too bad yourself, water-boy! I mean, I had no idea you could do all that…stuff!”

Penni struggled to find the right words.

“Aw shucks Penni, it’s just a little water magic. I mean, I could explain it some more if you-” Demyx didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence as a black object swooped from under him, causing him to lose his balance completely like he’d been knocked off his feet. Penni attempted to grab hold of him by the arms so he wouldn’t topple over, but unfortunately, she lacked the upper body strength- weak nerd arms. They both came crashing down next to each other.

And hard.

“Owhh…”

“At least you’re not the one who landed face-first in the dirt,” Penni said straight-faced, lifting herself off the ground. Her eyes scanned the area, looking for whatever caused the falling out. “Was it another heartless?”

It wasn’t until she spotted the silhouette of someone with a pointy hat.

Wait…was that Peter’s shadow?

It looked amused, its body moving as if it was laughing, then it blew a raspberry at the duo.

Ah, so that’s how it was gonna be.

Penni sprang to her feet without a moment’s waste and sprinted towards the shadow as it started running off. “C’mon Demyx, we gotta catch that shadow!” She yelped as the blonde scrambled to get up on his feet and follow behind her.

“Penni- wait up, this isn’t even part of the mission!” Demyx was right, this wasn’t at all part of the mission…but she didn’t want to leave Peter hanging.

“I know, this won’t take long, I promise!”

Penni wasn’t even paying attention to where she was going, her eyes were on the quick twisting and swerving nature of the shadow, her feet running wherever it went.

At one point in the chase, Penni and Demyx became split up in their path, more heartless cutting off the path from behind Penni.

“It’s okay, you go up ahead, I got this!” The blonde said, whipping out his guitar. Penni nodded as she ran on, mildly guilty for leaving Demyx alone, but at the same time glad he trusted her.

Twisting through greenery and trees, jumping over logs, and ducking under low-hanging branches

The only thing keeping her going was the adrenaline, this was the most she’s run since she was on her junior high track and field team.

In the high of the chase, Penni saw out of the corner of her eye a bright light, it soon flew beside her, and Penni’s movements slowed a bit.

“Tink! I-” Penni was abruptly silenced as Tink’s mouth moved quickly as if she was explaining something, though the only thing the girl heard was the jingling of tiny bells. “Ah…Tink, in the nicest way possible, I have no idea what you're saying.”

Tinkerbell stopped and gave her an exasperated look, putting her head and her hands, shaking them like she was disappointed.

“Well, it’s not exactly like I grew up learning how to speak fairy…” Penni mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck.

The fairy then made a few hand movements, one of them being that she raised her hands over her head, moving them up like she was making the shape of a hat. She then pointed ahead, moving her hands forward and furrowing her eyebrows.

“Oh! Peter’s shadow,” It suddenly clicked for Penni. “I was just chasing after him, he couldn’t have gotten far though. I saw him going right this way.”

Tinkerbell seemed satisfied with this answer, nodding happily and gesturing to Penni to ‘come on!’ zipping off without a warning.

Penni was quick to follow the fairy, but she was quite fast on her wings and was way ahead of her.

“Wait up Tink!” Penni called out, careful not to trip over any rocks and foliage. Tinkerbell sped to a clear opening, looking around for where the shadow could’ve gone. But as she was searching, she failed to notice the several dark spots on the ground beginning to pool under her. Before Penni could even speak another word a heartless jumped up in the air toward Tink, swiping at her, causing her to fall to the ground in an attempt to avoid getting sliced up.

“Hey, not nice!” The girl’s keyblade had made contact with the heartless in a flash, knocking them away like bowling pins as she quickly scooped up the small fairy in her hand. “Why don’t you pick on people your own size?”

Penniton sized herself up for a second.

“Or, like- my size will do.” Tinkerbell jingled rapidly as she floated over to Penni’s shoulder, “Alright, I get it!”

Penni made quick work of the small fry heartless, thankfully, they weren’t the monkey kind, so it was easy to handle them. It was the next batch of heartless that appeared around the girl.

“More of them?” These heartless were different, they were small and cone-shaped. They floated around like birds and had red-yellowish spiked hats on top of them. In fact, they had a whole fiery motif going on with them. “Does that mean…”

Without warning, balls of flame were thrown at Penni, in which she barely managed to dodge, quickly dropping to the dirt floor. “Ouch…not fun…hey!”

She quickly patted off the bit of fire that caught on her coat. There was no way she was gonna go out by being fried like an egg, so she quickly got herself up, and swung her blade at monsters. But they were swiftly able to dodge, backing away when the weapon came close to them. All the while, the heartless were throwing all kinds of attacks at Penni.

She was swatting at oversized flies, and getting immensely frustrated in the process. The girl especially wanted to scream when fire landed directly on her hand, and it burned badly. Penni hissed in pain as Tink jangled some more, attempting to tell her something.

“Tink, you know I can’t understand you.” Penni groaned, taking cover over an old, fallen tree to catch her breath. She flew in front of the girl and made some jagged movements that looked like she was holding a weapon.

“My keyblade? What about it?”

The fairy then severed around a bit, a glowing trail of dust following behind her. Penni squinted, her eyes adjusting to the pattern of words that were spelled out.

“Bliz…” Penni trailed off, “Tink it’s like 70 degrees right now what are you talking about.”

She gave her an irritated look and pointed at the heartless with her hands pointed like she was holding a weapon, and mouthed the word again.

“You want me to say that?” Penni wasn’t exactly sure what that would do or how it would help, but she got herself up. Stepping out from her hiding spot, she pointed her keyblade right at the red-coated creatures, and yelled, “Blizzard!”

Pieces of ice shot out of the keyblade, shooting right through the heartless and destroying them, cold wind filled the surrounding area, the light breeze blowing onto Penni’s face.

This left the remaining heartless staggered, taking this chance Penni hurled her and her keyblade towards the creatures, knocking whatever life that was left out of them, hearts floated into the sky, enveloped in a murky darkness. All that remained was faintly glowing orbs of munny left on the ground.

The girl took several deep breaths, dropping her to knees, she felt her keyblade dissipate beside it as it hit the ground. A concerned fairy drifted over to her shoulder, a slight ringing sounded by her ear.

“Tink…did you see that?” Penni turned towards the fairy with the biggest smile on her face. “I just did magic! I had no idea my keyblade couldn’t even do that. I would’ve never known if it wasn’t thanks to you, Tinkerbell!”

Tink gave Penni a bashful look, waving her hand as if she was to say ‘Oh, it was nothing’.

Penni opened her mouth to say something else but then noticed a recognizable shadow cast nearby the girl and the fairy.

“Peter’s shadow…” Penni murmured, her voice filled with displease. “Because of you, Tinkerbell could’ve been badly hurt, or worse. Your antics caused a whole lot of trouble, was that what you wanted out of this?”

Peter’s shadow face twisted into a frown, and it looked like he was sulking. The fairy floated over to the shadow and said a few words in her jingling language. The shadow nodded, rubbing his hand on his chest as if he was saying ‘sorry’. Tinkerbell gave him a sympathetic smile, and then the shadow turned to Penni, grinning in his own unique way, giving her a small wave.

It seemed like the shadow had learned his lesson, and all was forgiven, quite easily it seemed. Tinkerbell and the shadow had to be close, Penni thought, for Tink to be so forgiving.

That must be such a strong friendship, an unbreakable bond.

Penni gave a small wave back, her mouth curved upwards.

While Penni’s hand was still in the air, Tinker flew back over and placed her hands on a lone finger, shaking it.

“Ah, I should be the one saying thank you, I would’ve been toast if it wasn’t for your help, literally.”

Sassy as ever, the fairy rolled her eyes, waving bye to Penni one last time before she and the shadow hurried off, probably to find Peter.

At that moment, Penni found the burning sensation of her hand coming back to her, well actually, it had never left, the girl had just ignored it after a while. But now she was left with only herself and her thoughts, she realized her hand hurt like she had dipped it in a pot of boiling stew. Maybe she could use that spell on her hand and-

“Penniton! You’re okay!” The blondie yelled out in joy, his arms wrapping around Penni a bit too tightly for her liking. “Aw jeez Penni, why’d you have to leave me like that, it was so scary and you were so serious!”

He continued his anxious (and mildly funny, though Penni would never say it) rambling until the girl choked out the words “I’m fine Demyx, but if you keep hugging me like this I might pass out from lack of air…”

Demyx let out a ‘my bad!’ and let go of Penni, who took in a deep breath of air.

“Everything went fine, I found Peter’s shadow and took care of a couple of heartless while I was at it, so I’d like to believe our mission is pretty much completed.”

“Music to my ears,” Demyx sighed with relief, putting up his fist “You definitely carried the whole operation, ouhhhh what would’ve I done without you?”

“It’s kinda like what you said Demyx, just push through it.” This time, Penni returned the fist bump with no worries of disingenuous feelings, but when she made contact with the gloved fist, she winced at the pain of her toasted hand. “Ouch…I forgot about that…”

“Your hand! One second I have just the thing for that,” Demyx said, quickly shuffling around his coat pocket for something. He soon handed Penni a small bottle with a curiously green liquid in it. “It’s an elixir, it’ll heal your hand right up!”

“Ohh, I get it,” Penni took the bottle, looking Demyx dead in the eye, “you're trying to poison me.”

…

“What?”

“Listen man, I don’t know what I did to get on your bad side but-”

“Penni I’m not trying to poison you, I’m being serious!”

“I ain’t drinking that Demyx, I was taught not to take handouts, especially weird drinks, from strangers.”

“Strangers?” Demyx clutched the spot where his heart would’ve been, “Penniton, you're killing me here, we’ve been through so much together already!”

“Not enough for me to drink whatever that is, and you just pulled it out of your coat pocket, I doubt that’s sanitary,” Penni said bluntly, waving away the blonde.

“Look, I swear on my non-existent heart, this is perfectly safe. In fact.” He pulled out another bottle, “I’ll drink one with you, then if it’s really poison, which it’s not, we’ll go down together.”

Penni gave Demyx a hard stare before glancing at the elixir bottle, it was relatively normal looking, packed in a plastic bottle with labels and all. She huffed, pulling off the cap. “Alright…on three.”

“One…two…three!”

The partners both started chugging the small bottle, and to Penni’s surprise, the substance wasn’t terrible. In fact, as she finished the last few drops, she felt energized, and the pain in her hand was leaving her.

“See? I told you it would be fine, Penni! And I bet you feel way better now, right?” Demyx joked, playfully bumping her with his elbow. “And with our mission finished, we can take some leisure time!”

“Leisure time?” Penni questioned, “But, Saix said we had to return back to the castle as soon as we finished our mission.”

“Taking a few hours extra to RTC isn’t gonna hurt anybody, besides, Saix can wait. Besides, going on missions and then immediately going back to the castle doesn’t sound that enticing.”

RTC? That probably meant…return to castle, right?

“I mean…I guess we could take a break before heading back, but where would we go?”

Demyx gave Penni a sly grin, “I just so happen to know a spot.”

.

.

.

“So, what do you think of the place?” The blonde asked.

Twilight Town was quite nice, the yellowish-orange sky complimented the overall rustic aesthetic of the town. Penni inhaled the scent of something sweet from a nearby bakery, maybe later she could buy something for herself. The sound of laughter filled her ears as children rode past on shiny bicycles.

It reminded her of the town the boarding school resided in, the quaintness of it all. It almost made her homesick, and to think a place like that was gone.

“Cozy.” Penni simply stated, giving Demyx a soft smile.

“And get this, the sun here never sets- it’s evening all day!”

“A never-ending sunset? How does anyone keep track of time?”

“Clocks, duh.” Demyx said, straight-faced. Penni stared at him to see if he was actually being serious, this was confirmed when she saw the tiniest crack of a grin on his face.

“Alright, whatever, funny guy.” She said, clicking her tongue.

“Aw, I was just kidding, Pen-pen!”

Penni winced at the nickname, shaking off the memories that flashed through her mind, ignoring them with a question, “So what do you do around here?”

“All kinds of things! There’s a corner store where you can get cup noodles for real cheap, a bookstore that sells manga- oh, and CDs!”

“You're a music kinda guy, aren’t you?” Penni smugly asked the blonde.

“How’d you guess?” The blonde laughed, “But yeah! I love music, there are so many different forms of it, and a whole bunch of instruments come together to make awesome pieces of work. It’s a whole art form, Penni!”

Penni nodded along, it was always nice to hear someone talk about what they love.

“And I’m guessing the guitar is your favorite instrument, right? You’ll have to show me what you can play outside of our missions sometimes, y’know, when we’re not fighting for our lives.”

Demyx looked surprised for a moment, then, a smile grew on his face. A big, beaming smile.

“Anytime Penni! In fact, I can even teach you how to play!” The girl didn’t have a chance to say anything else, she was already being dragged into the bookstore, “There’s this one song you should listen to, the band makes these really heartfelt rock songs, I’ll think you’ll like it!”

As Penni was dragged to the back of the store, she thought for a moment. Did she have a favorite music genre? Artist? When was the last time she sat down and turned on a song she really liked?

She didn’t even own an mp3 player.

“This one is pretty popular, but not too much that it’s overrated.” Demyx plopped a pair of headphones on Penni’s head, and she closed her eyes, letting her mind focus on the music.

Almost Immediately, the rift of an electric guitar was heard, and then a melody. The vocals along with the heavy bangs of drums meshed together just right, and altogether, it felt meaningful.

It felt passionate.

Penni’s head nodded along to the song, it resonated through her, and much to her surprise, she hardly registered that the song had reached its climax and, had ended.

Penni blinked a few times, pulling off the headphones, a small grin coming to her face. “That was really good!” She said in a bubbly voice, the melody still echoing in her mind. “Do you have any more I can listen to?”

“Well there's this one artist, her music is super great, it’s a mix of R&B and pop, and sometimes some guitar is thrown in there. Actually, did you want to borrow my mp3 player?”

“You don’t have to do that, Demyx-”

“Nah, it’s cool, I insist! I already own most of the songs on cd already, so I wouldn’t miss it…just don’t break it okay? It was kinda a heavy investment…”

Penniton let out a giggle, “Alright, you have my word.”

Demyx laughed along, his eyes softening just a tiny bit, “Y’know, you look better when you smile, you should do it more often.”

She froze for a moment, at a loss for words, muttering out “Can you blame me for not doing that? I mean, I don’t have a lot going that would give me a reason too.”

“Maybe, but finding little things to be happy about is better than being gloomy all the time.”

Penni hummed, maybe so. It would do her better to at least try to stay motivated. After all, who knew how many more missions she would have to go through until she could see her hometown again, her mom?

How long until she could see…a certain sunset haired girl.

“We have some more time to waste, why don’t you show me that corner store you were talking about? I’m literally starving.”

.

.

.

Upon exiting the dark portal, when Penni stepped into the progressive familiarity of the castle, slightly surprised to see more black coat members hanging about.

“See Luxord? I told you she would be fine.” Snickered the voice of Xigbar, lightly nudging his arm into the man sitting next to him.

“Indeed she is, I have to say it was unexpected.” Admitted a man with blonde hair in a caesar cut matched with an interesting-looking beard, light blue eyes, and what Penni spotted to be several piercings on his ears.

The piercings were quite cool to her.

The man named ‘Luxord’ handed the gunner what seemed to be a few bits of munny, the gesture itself made her question what exactly they were doing before she showed up. The man made his way to Penni.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Penniton, perhaps I may have misjudged you. By the looks of it, you were able to handle your own just fine.”

Yeah, as long as you don’t count her hand, everything went ‘just fine’.

“Ah- thank you? But I don’t think we’ve ever met, how did you know-”

“Word of mouth travels fast around here, kiddo.” Xigbar said, leaning back into the white cushions of the couch.

Penni muttered a small ‘oh’. “So, I wanted to ask, there are thirteen people in the organization, right? I’ve only met a few people but where’s everyone else?

“Probably still out doing their missions, we got done on good time!” Demyx explained boastfully, seemingly proud.

“Truthfully speaking,” Luxord gave him a look of denial, “You were the last to get back. Your co-workers most likely are off on their own activities. You didn’t drag the poor girl on one of your ‘detours’, did you?”

“It was just a quick lunch break before heading back…”

“Uh huh…but I digress. Penniton, you’re bound to run into the others soon, after all, this whole castle is crawling with opportunities to make conversation with your peers.”

“Now let’s not forget, not everyone is worth the time to make conversation with,” Xigbar remarked.

The guitarist spoke up, “If by that you mean Larxene, I second that point.”

“What’s wrong with Larxene?” Penni raised an eyebrow, curious.

“She’s such a witch!”

“How about we let her decide other people’s character by her own experience, you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, or simply trust word of mouth.”

“Funny coming from you, Luxord.” The eyepatch man snickered, flicking a small munnny coin into the hair before catching it.

The man gave a content sigh, “Alas, who am I to deny a light-hearted bet? After all, we're only human.”

“Well technically,” Demyx interjected “none of us are actually-”

“Enough of that, did you gain any new lessons on your first mission, Penniton?”

“Well, I did learn this really cool trick,” Penni raised her keyblade in the air, “You just hold it up like this and say-”

“That isn’t a toy, Penniton.”

Penni’s joyful expression dropped from her face, replaced with pale misery as she turned around to see a displeased Saix.

“Saix, this isn’t- I was just-” Penni stumbled over her words as she lowered the blade, attempting to formulate an excuse.

“There’s a time and place for its use, but running amok and throwing it around the castle isn’t one of them. The organization does not tolerate crude use of weaponry, Xemnas will be hearing about this incident.”

The girl de-summoned her blade, she gazed gratefully at the floor as she mumbled the word “Sorry…” to Saix in a meek, hushed voice.

“Lighten up Saix. All the kid wanted to do was flash the thing around some, there’s no need to tattle on boss man for this.” Xigbar stated plainly, resting his head against his fist. “And it’s not like you rag on Demyx whenever he insists on playing his sitar, or whatever. So what? You jealous or something?”

Saix narrowed his eyes at the gunman, simply letting out a scoff. He handed both Penni and Demyx a paper form of some kind. “After every mission, it’s required that you fill out a report. Turn this in back to me by tomorrow.”

Quickly surveying the paper, it was honestly elementary work. All she had to do was put down the place, the objective, and the results. Her eyes drifted to Demyx, and judging by his face, he was a little less than happy to receive the paper.

“I’ll be sure to get this done,” Penni said in a polite tone, hurrying off back to her room so she could escape from the uncomfortableness of being around the blue-haired member.

What Penni wasn’t expecting though was a certain eyepatch-wearing man to be trailing behind her.

“So, you finished up your first mission, not bad.”

“Is that really much of an accomplishment?” Penniton said, not looking back to the gunner, “You guys do that type of stuff every day.”

“Learn to take a compliment, Firecracker, all I’m saying is that you didn’t do bad for someone who just got their keyblade just yesterday.” He let out a laugh, “Luxord was betting that you would’ve kicked the bucket on your first day.”

That explains the shifting of munny Penni caught earlier.

“Wait, do the other organization members not think I’m, for lack of a better term, that strong?”

“That depends, do you consider yourself strong, kid? Because you sure don’t hold yourself up that way.”

Penni whipped her head around to say something to the man, but was bewildered to see no one standing there.

“If you walk around looking like a sad kicked dog all the time that’s what people will see you as.” Xigbar’s voice had shifted upwards, and Penni followed that direction, she said a demented ‘huh?’ to see the gunner crouching upside down, on the ceiling.

“That’s…not how physics works.” Penni stated, “And I don’t carry myself around like a ‘kicked dog’.”

“As if!” He laughed, “You got barked at by Saix once and looked like you were about to curl up in a ball and-”

“I get it! Goodness, where is your filter?”

Xigbar let out another chuckle, “Don’t have one!”

Penni huffed, resuming her beeline to wherever her room was, making a mental note at one point she would have to start taking walks around the castle to start getting to know the layout of it.

Yet, she continued to hear the tapping of boots above her as she walked.

“By the way, earlier,” The patch-wearing man said as his boots hit the floor, landing right in front of the girl, causing her to flinch. “You were holding your keyblade entirely wrong.”

“How would you know if I’m holding it wrong? You’ve probably never held one of these in your life.” She retorted. He scoffed rather loudly and said the words ‘as if’ in a low mumble Penni couldn’t hear.

“I’m just saying kid, if you don’t get used to your keyblade soon, you might just find yourself in some pretty deep trouble.” Xigbar finally stepped out of Penni’s way, letting her pass.

“Sure, thanks for the advice.”

No, not really.

.

.

.

When Penni at last found her room, she was relieved at the thought of being able to flop down on her bed and process the day.

She opened her door, adjusted herself to the sight of her room, and screamed.

White, skinny, and most certainly slithery creatures turned her heads to her when she opened the door. In a flash, they glided past Penni through the door, like liquid (or like a slinky), both equally as weird, their bodies stretching and retracting, as if they had no bones. It gave the girl shivers.

She watched them slither down the hallway and turned around the corner, passing the redhead as he was walking past them. He looked nonchalant and unreasonably calm, hardly sparing the creatures a glance.

“Where’s the fire? It’s kinda rude to scream out of nowhere, Pen-pen.” Axel stated, taking a bite of some blue colored ice cream on a popsicle stick.

“What in the world were those? What were they doing in my room!” Penni was shaking, like she had just seen a ghost…what if those things were ghosts? Do ghosts usually look that gross? Why was she being haunted by ghosts?

Focussss, Penni! There’s probably a reasonable, understandable explanation for those things.

“Those guys?” Axel pointed behind them the directions the creatures just left in, “those are just the dusks.”

“The wha?”

“Ah, that’s right, you're still a newbie.” Axel took another bite of his ice cream, beginning his explanation. “The dusks are just another type of nobody, and I know what you're thinking, ‘But Axel, I thought nobodies were the people in the organization!’. You would still be right about that, but the organization members are special nobodies, even though we lost our hearts, we’re so ‘strong-willed’ our bodies and minds remain. You still with me here, Pen-pen?”

“Uhh, yeah?”

“Good, usually when someone loses their heart, their body splits up into two entities, a nobody and a heartless. The things you just saw now were normal, low-level dusks.”

“But why are they here, in the castle?” Why were they in my room?

“They take care of it,” Axel said matter-of-factly, “Who else do you think cleans up around the castle, me?”

A door suddenly swung open.

“Will you two shut up already?” Came an irritated voice from a young lady with blonde, practically golden, hair and teal eyes. She had a unique hairstyle, short cut with two stripes poking on top of her head, like little antennas. By definition, a wildly pretty, blue-eyed, blonde…soooo pretty.

“Our bad, didn’t mean to disturb you!” Apologized Penni, giving her a sorry look.

“Whatever, I’m already up now.” Her gaze focused on Penni, looking her up, then down. “New girl, right?”

“Penniton! But you can call me–”

She flicked Penni’s forehead. “I know, save it. You can call me Larxene, got that?” Larxene didn’t give the girl a chance to answer. “Don’t annoy me more than you already have and we’ll get along fine, kay’ newbie?”

She said that with an ill-ridden smile.

Penni didn't bother to say anything else, she simply nodded.

“Yikes Larxene,” ‘Crunch’ “no neef o be oo mean.” Axel commented with a mouthful of ice cream.

“It would be appreciated if you didn’t talk with food in your mouth, Axel.” Larxene peered at the redhead with disgust, “Anyways, a word of advice, you can’t rely on that keyblade of yours for everything. You know any magic?”

“Only blizzard, is there more I can learn?”

“Tons!” Axel exclaimed, holding a popsicle stick between his teeth. “You really gotta stop thinking so small.”

“That’s not terrible though, at least you know one spell, which means you’re not completely helpless.” Not completely helpless? That must count for something. “But- a couple of measly snowflakes won’t get you very far. Eventually, you’ll be in a situation where the magic you have now will be useless, and when that happens, you’ll crash and burn.”

She ended her sentence with a high, perky voice.

“Are you trying to scare her?” The redhead asked, raising an eyebrow at Larxene.

“I’m being realistic,” Larxene put her hands on both sides of Penni’s shoulder, smiling at her. “We don't want our little newbie dying on us too early.”

Penni swallowed a lump in her throat she didn’t even realize had formed. “So…where can I learn more magic? Can you teach me?”

“Yeah, no. I’m not your kindergarten teacher, that’s more Vexen’s speed.”

“Who-”

“You can find him in his lab or whatever, I’m sure he’ll be real pleased to meet you.” Larxene turned around, getting ready to disappear back into her room. She said to Penni without turning her head, “It was a nice talk, newbie.”

Axel and Penni watched as she walked back into her room, closing the door which one would say was a tad bit too hard. The two were silent for a moment, the girl then said, “Well, that was helpful of her.”

“She usually isn’t…” Axel said under his breath.

Penni let out a small yawn, signifying her growing tiredness, and even more tiredness to try and keep up a conversation. “I’ll see you later Axel,” She waved goodbye to the redhead before opening her door, her hand flinching away from the handle after feeling a small, electric shock.

She looked over her room once again, clicking her tongue once she saw her notebook left on the floor. Those nobodies- dusk- must’ve been messing with it. Penni picked up the book along with the white pencil and flopped down on the bed. Penni frowned when she saw a bunch a scribbles on the first few pages, there goes some priceless drawing space. Turning to a blank page, she began doodling some sketches of models wearing outfits, ideas of outfits.

“So…Neverland…” Penni wondered aloud, sketching a leafy, long dress. Decorated by earthy accessories, the dress itself, if she could color it, might’ve been green. A small stray pencil line caused her to turn the pencil over to its eraser, fixing her mistake.

Her mind drifted off, processing the events of the day. Then, she thought about her mom.

“How am I going to explain everything to her?”

Penni stared at the notebook page for a moment, her eyes lightening up for a second when an idea came to her. She turned to the next blank page, this time writing some letters in a neat font.

Dear Julia Bridges,

“...There’s no need to be so formal about it, it’s my mom.”

Dear Julia Bridges, Mom,

I’m not entirely sure how to explain this, but as of two days ago, your world our world disappeared along with you and everyone in it. Except for me and Veneta, but it’s okay, I’m gonna bring it back. You see, I ended up in a different world, (did you know there are hundreds upon thousands of other worlds out there? I can’t believe it either!) the only thing I had was this weird weapon called a keyblade, it looks exactly how it sounds. I don’t know exactly why I was given one or what I did to deserve being able to summon it, but it’s pretty useful for self defense against the growing darkness: Heartless. They’re nasty creatures that, as far as I’m aware, come in all different shapes and sizes, though I’ve only seen about three different kinds. The heartless are the reason our home disappeared in the first place.

Anyways, I met this guy named Xigbar (you would love him) who brought me to this castle to join this organization. It’s called Organization 13, but replaces the english numeral with the roman numeral (I can only count up to four in roman numerals). I’ll try to keep it short and simple, but Organization 13 is made up of people who don’t have hearts, they’re like zombies but without the undead part. They can’t feel emotions apparently, but I beg to differ. While I do have a heart, The leader (now my boss), Xemnas, said I can bring our world back by helping the organization complete ‘Kingdom Hearts’ (I’ll explain this later as I’m not exactly sure what it is myself, for now it’s just a big heart-shaped moon in the sky).

So yeah, I guess you could say I’m employed now. My comrades coworkers are nice enough, well, a majority of them all. I haven’t even met everyone there is in the organization yet. Besides Xigbar, there’s Axel, he has this wild red hair and a funny sense of humor (funnier than Xigbar), then there’s Demyx who despite my initial impression of him, is nice to have around. He’s kinda goofy too. Next is Saix, who I don’t think likes me very much. Which is fine! Not all coworkers have to like each other, just respect each other. As long as I don’t step on his toes too much I’m sure we’ll have a tolerable relationship.

The last two people I met today were Luxord and Larxene (notice how everyone has a ‘x’ in their name). I think Luxord likes to play cards, and Larxene is…nice. I’m not exactly sure what time it is right now, but all I know is that I’m super tired, that ‘C’ in gym class is finally catching up to me I guess, haha.

Guess I’ll finish this letter now, I’m ready to doze off. See you soon.

Love,

Penniton

Hopefully she really could see her soon.

.

.

.

The next day Penni managed to get up on a good time, albeit a bit sore.

Scratch that, very sore.

She was making her way down the white halls, massaging her arms when she was stopped by a friendly face.

“Penni, Saix wanted to see you personally in the other room, that way.” Axel told her, pointing down the hallway.

The girl blinked a few times, confused “Huh, why? Did I do something bad?”

“Nothing I can remember, maybe he just wants to talk to you.”

“I’m skeptical, but okay.” Penni walked further down the hallway, stopping in front of the two, big double doors. Her heart began to speed up and she swallowed a lump in her throat. She felt anxious.

“Deep breathes in…deep breathes out.” Just like her mom had taught her. Penni pushed the two doors open, stepping into a rather spacious room, with the familiar blue haired member waiting for her. “You wanted to see me?”

“Penniton,” Saix began to say, “Xemnas tasked me with the job of conducting an assessment on you today.”

The girl sighed out of relief. “What type of assessment, pen and paper?” She joked, though as she expected, the man was not amused in the slightest.

“This will be a test of the combat abilities you have thus far,” Saix explained plainly, summoning his claymore-like weapon by his side. What? Combat, against him? It looked so heavy that Penniton couldn’t even dream of being able to lift something like that off the ground, and in comparison to her keyblade…a fight with these conditions seemed a tad bit unfair.

“Hold on, I’ve barely even used my keyblade, nevertheless know how to properly wield it, I think it would be unfair to assess me right now when I’ve just started,” Penniton protested, there was no way she could win a fight like this.

“Unfair?” Saix’s cold voice almost came to a scoff.

“I-”

“There will be many times where you’ll have to take part in ‘unfair’ fights, do you really think your enemy would take into account whether a battle is impartial or not?” He moved into a readied position, “Take this as a lesson, Penniton, a lack of impartiality between you and your opponent is an advantage, depending on who the more prepared one is.”

Saix suddenly lunged at Penni, his claymore just missing her by the hairs of her head as she threw herself out of the way, her keyblade quickly materializing in her hand.

Right, so they were doing this.

To give him credit, the man was much faster with such a large weapon than the girl expected. In a second he was after her again, swing after swing leaving no time for Penni to even decide which direction to dodge next.

A choice was made for her, which ended up being the claymore knocking into her side, sending her flying, pummeling onto the hard floor. Fortunately, it was only the blunt edge of the weapon, but for someone like Penni, the double impact made her vision blur and her ears ring with noise.

The girl groaned and staggered on the ground for a short time. She struggled to pick herself up again, then she heard Saix speak once more.

“If this was a real fight, you would’ve died already. Get up.”

Despite her muscles aching and her mind muddled, she huffed, grabbing her fallen keyblade and getting back up on her feet to finish the fight.

Think faster, act faster, be faster.

Every duck, dodge, and side-step left Penni just a small ounce of time to try and find some sort of way to land an attack.

Yet every time she would find herself readying to strike, almost immediately she would be swept away to the floor, met by Saix’s chiding.

“You need to get up Penni,”

It felt harder to do so every time.

That’s when she had an idea.

As soon as he was in range enough, yelled out the words, “Blizzard!”

Cold, icy wind swept Saix’s view, creating a moment’s opening for her, and Penni took her chance.

She dashed towards the man, but before the metal of her blade could touch black material, Saix swooped under and side-swept her legs, knocking Penni clean off her balance.

She had been really getting to know the ground in the past couple of days, huh?

“Not only was that attack cheap, but you had sloppy execution as well. Being aware of your enemies’ actions at all times is a necessity, carelessness like that will-”

“Get me killed, I know.” Penni breathed out, rising up and wiping away the blood that formed on her nose.

“...So you're catching on.”

She continued to be knocked down again, and again, and again, each time feeling heavier than the last.

At one point when Saix charged at her again, Penni held her ground, using her keyblade to block the claymore, the mere strength caused the girl to be forced back by the mere strength of the sword.

Her keyblade was knocked far away from her, and she suddenly felt a kick to her stomach. Penni hissed in pain, tumbling down onto the floor for a final time. She made no effort to try and regain her stance.

“Are you giving up?”

She said nothing, her hands clutching her stomach and her body curled up. The girl flinched hard when she heard the loud ‘Twang!’ of the claymore that landed mere inches away from her head.

“That’s enough, I’ve seen all that I need to.” The weapon was de-summoned, and Saix's face looked more unimpressed than ever. “Your ability to wield the keyblade is subpar, you’ve disappointed me today, Penniton.”

Penni sat up on the floor, breathing heavily and struggling to form sentences in between recuperating, “I wasn’t-”

“If you couldn’t land a single hit on me, how do you expect to survive in a real situation, dodge attacks until someone comes and saves you? You’re showing signs of cowardice.”

“I didn’t have time to think-”

“You’ll rarely have time to think, and excuses won’t change anything. You need to utilize your keyblade more, not throw around the same measly spell-”

“How can I be any good at my job if I barely know how to use my keyblade?” Penni argued, her face beginning to fume in frustration and her voice rising. Her fists clenched as she kept going, “I’ve hardly been a part of the organization for a full three days, and I’m the only one in it with a keyblade. So figuring it out, mind you, by myself- isn’t gonna click automatically!”

Saix didn’t say anything yet his face was cold as always, his eyes piercing through Penni. “I doubt you got to swinging around that oversized sword of yours right off the bat, I need time to learn- not just a couple of days!” She took a deep breath, her eyebrows lowering. “What do you want me to do Saix, because I just don’t know.”

“What happens to you is inconsequential to me, and every member couldn't be more unconcerned about your welfare than they already are,” Saix finally spat out, irritation sprawled out on his face. “You should be fortunate you get to wear that coat of yours in the first place, nevertheless have the title of being a member.” Penniton's eyes widened as Saix’s words seeped into her like venom. “If you really want to be treated with the same respect as everyone else, I suggest you learn to fend for yourself and manage your problems on your own.” The blue-haired man didn’t even spare Penniton a second glance, leaving her alone in the room.

By herself, alone, again.

By herself, with no one around to comfort her.

Water prickled at the edges of her eyes, tears threatening to fall. Penni tried her best to wipe them away, now wasn’t the time to cry.

“Fend for myself…” Penni muttered, summoning her keyblade, watching how the light reflected and bounced off of it. She chuckled slightly, pitying herself and her own predicament. “I guess…you're on your own Penni.”

Her eyes felt heavy and the burning sensation of her body didn’t help with her immense fatigue. It felt like she just had the butt-kicking of a lifetime so…one quick nap…wouldn’t hurt.

Penniton promptly passed out on the floor.

[demigoddessqueens]

don’t you break my heart

(Ok so lowdown, THAT scene with The Whispered One was such a whirlwind, and it prompted a hella angsty idea where y/n (reader) takes the hit instead and what the others reaction would be…so MAJOR SPOILERS). Also I do appreciate the quotes by @multi-fandom-imagine since they’re in character.

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38179888

It all happened too fast. You saw Delilah take aim, intending to fatally hit any who got in her way, and yet you still ran. Towards the ones that you loved, and would risk life and liberty for. The look on their face was soul-crushing enough but you would do it all again if it meant they were alive. Suddenly now, Delilah's scream of rage and pain makes too much sense when they see your crumpled form

Vex:

The weak smile you offer her does nothing to quell the dull pain that's ever-growing in her heart. How could you do that?! Why would you do that?! She tries to keep calm, but the waivering tone in her voice betrays what she's feeling underneath. As soon as Pike vanishes, she grows even more desperate. Gods above, she's grateful that Keyleth is there to help, but don't you ever do that again to her. She's lost too much in life to have love ripped away from her.

Keyleth: The sweet druid felt as if she was stuck in a tunnel. One second she's running towards Vex, risking life and limb to protect her half-elf friend, the next she feels herself hurtling in the opposite direction as you push her from harm's way. In a flash, her life is spared but yours hangs in the balance. It takes every ounce of self not to crack under pressure, but she runs to you before anyone else can. Though you try to reassure her, the druid's hands are shaking as she heals you and when they wrap around you as well.

Grog: This wasn't happening, right? You're strong. Fearless. These types of things don't happen you. For this mighty barbarian to be brought to his knees to hold you is not a common sight, but he doesn't care. He cares for you as much as he does for Pike, if not more, and he cradles you close to him. Keyleth's magic works, slower than what he would have preferred, but it feels as if every weight has been lifted when he hears that breath of life returning to you.

Vax: You were his friend, his comrade, the heart that he held (even if you didn't know it yet), and all of that seemed to vanish away in a split second. You risked your life for his sister's yet here he watched completely helpless again. It was as if he saw his childhood home being burnt down again. His sister was a part of his life, yet here you were as the second half of his heart and soul vanishing away. He can feel the tears streaking as every breath of yours grows fainter, until Keyleth's healing magic pulls through. He refuses to leave your side the rest of that day, and the ones that follow for quite some time.

Scanlan: Pike was gone, and now the muse and love he sought with you was dwindling away with every minute. He can feel his heart sinking and breaking simultaneously, refusing to let go of your hand even as Grog carries you from the battlefield. As you recover, he tries to keep the "cool act" up, but the tear-glistened eyes and breaking voice are all that it takes for you to hold him close with a "i love you, too".

Pike: Before her astral form vanished, the last thing she saw was your out-stretched hand weakly reaching towards her. In the Everlight's temple, never had they heard such an earth-shattering cry of despair from the cleric. She's desperate to get back to you, begging and pleading that you're safe as she races back to the keep. Once she sees you again, the gnome refuses to let go for several days, giving the tightest hugs that she could muster.

Percy: Losing his family was already earth-shattering. To see the one last person he cared about in this world, aside from Cass, be taken away from a Briarwood again was too much to bear. Seeing you crumpled on the ground, surrounded by the others, his quest for revenge evaporated in a heartbeat. He ran towards your huddled figure and gathered you in his arms. To lose you would be another thing that these devils took from him. First his family and life, and now his love. Delilah's taunts prove otherwise as he can feel the demon of revenge invading every part of his mind, unaware of your slow recovery. Only then when Vex confronts him, and when he hears your soft voice, does it finally break.

[tricksters-captain]

Helmut Zemo (TFATWS) imagines - Craving

AN: Okay I’ve given in and become a Zemo simp but Bucky is still my number one don't worry.

Summary: After playing the part as Zemo's arm candy in Madripoor, Zemo tries to confront you on your unspoken connection, only to be rudely interrupted...

Pairing(s): Zemo x Fem!Reader, very slight Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,326

Warnings: Some small spoilers for Ep3, lots of sexual tension 

“I still can’t believe I agreed to do this.” You grumbled as you climbed the stairs, falling behind at the fear the men could see straight up the skirt of the dress Zemo had chosen for you. 

“I, for one, think you have the easiest job of us all. James must be someone he detests, Sam must be a notorious criminal he doesn’t know and you must sit and look pretty.” Zemo spoke under his breath as you came to the entrance of Selby’s HQ. 

You glared at the man but he didn’t care. He was too busy worrying about Selby. 

The door was opened for you by one of Selby’s men. Zemo nodded curtly at the guard before entering. 

You went ahead of Bucky and Sam to stay close to Zemo, following your role as his current inamorata. 

It was a short walk into Selby’s office but with every step you could feel the fear rising in your chest. You weren’t convinced that you’d get away with this; Sam wasn't exactly the most kosher criminal and Zemo’s story didn’t quite add up on just how he managed to have the Winter Soldier in his mitts again. 

“You should know, Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Selby spoke as she came into view. She was an expensively dressed woman with a short white pixie cut. 

Zemo sat down opposite her but you remained next to Sam. 

“Not a demand. An offer.” Zemo waved his finger as he spoke. It was a small yet dominant motion directed towards you. You tried not to clench your jaw as you walked towards him. 

“A lot has changed since you were here last.” Selby’s eyes followed your every move as you made your way over to Zemo. “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo held out his hand to you, guiding you to stand behind him.  “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.” 

“You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger.” Selby cocked her head towards Sam. 

Sam’s only response was a quick nod of his head. Selby purred at Sam, a wolfish smile on her face. 

“What’s the offer?” Selby turned back to Zemo. Her eyes flickered up to you before landing back on Zemo’s face. You weren’t stupid you knew what her gaze meant. 

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum.” Zemo pushed himself out of his chair. You watched him cross behind Bucky, placing his hands on Bucky's shoulders. “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.” 

Selby grinned widely as Zemo wobbled Bucky’s chin with his forefinger and thumb, showing just how under control the ‘Winter Soldier’ was. 

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately.” Selby seemed to be convinced. “Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right.”

Zemo returned to his seat before Selby continued. 

“The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or... condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but... things didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Zemo asked. 

“Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.” Selby rose from her chair, finding a place beside Sam as she very openly let her eyes roll down your body now that you were in her full view. 

“What else do you desire?” Zemo questioned. He had clocked onto Selby’s behaviour and didn’t really need to ask to know what the answer was going to be.  

“Her.” Selby pointed you out. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek as she awaited Zemo’s response. 

“No, no, no.” Zemo tutted, holding out his hand for you to take. “This little bird only sings for me.” Zemo guided you round the side of his chair and pulled you gently onto his lap. You crossed your legs as you tried not to seem uncomfortable. The scent of the Baron’s cologne, mixed with his strong grip on your waist was making your heart race. You had never been this close to Zemo before and now you were sat on his knee with his arm around you. 

“Well, you’ll make her sing for me or you won’t be getting what you want now, Baron, will ya?” Selby wasn’t playing games. She folded her arms across her chest, cocking her eyebrows at Zemo. 

Zemo titled his head as he thought. 

You felt yourself tense up when he placed a cool leather clad hand on your thigh. His fingers started to draw circles on your skin, edging your skirt higher, drawing Selby’s eyes down to your legs. 

“She is very dear to me.” Zemo stated. He retracted his hand from your thigh to brush your hair from your shoulder, his finger traced a line from your jaw down your neck to your collarbone. Zemo, being so close, could see the goosebumps that covered your skin at his touch.  

“Unless you have something better to offer other than your two play things, Baron, I suggest you hand them over to me... unless you don’t want the whereabouts of Dr Nagel.” Selby let her smile drop. 

“I will––” Zemo was cut short by Sam’s phone going off. 

“Answer it.” Selby suddenly lost all interest in the deal and only desired to prove the authenticity of the Smiling Tiger. “On speaker.” 

That’s where things went wrong. 

For the rest of the trip in Madripoor, you didn’t get the time to confront yourself and Zemo on what happened back there. 

You were so confused to why you reacted the way you did. You had never been attracted to Zemo before but you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he smelt, the way his breath tickled against your arm, the way the heat radiated out from under his thick coat. 

You knew he was thinking about it too. 

Every time you let yourself glance over at him, he was watching you and not in the same way as he usually would. You knew too well that Zemo often studied his surroundings like a hawk. He was silent and observant; he always knew where he would go next and he often watched you, Sam and Bucky as if he were calculating your next moves. 

It wasn’t until you arrived in Latvia that you were confronted by your feelings again. 

You were sat at the island in the kitchen as you ran your hands over your face and hair. You were tired. 

“You should rest.” Zemo’s voice suddenly snuck up on you. 

He had been so quiet walking into the kitchen that you hadn't even noticed he was there. 

“I should but insomnia kinda comes with the job.” You sat up, trying not to act any different from how you usually would. 

“Ah. My time in a cell has acquainted me with such the dilemma.” Zemo confessed as he moved towards the cupboards on the back wall. 

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t help but watch his hands as they reached for the coffee pot, his fingers gripping it lightly. You could still recall the feeling of the cool leather on your thigh, his touch climbing higher as he pushed your skirt up...

“Coffee?” Zemo offered, interrupting your thoughts as he raised a mug and an eyebrow at you. 

“Please.” You folded your hands together as you leant on the island. 

There was a brief comfortable silence as Zemo fixed up some coffee for you both. He could feel your eyes on him but he didn’t say anything. He just let the corner of his lips tugged into a smirk as he poured you a cup. He let the smirk drop when he turned to face you.

He slid the cup along the countertop and you thanked him quietly. He pushed a thin smile onto his face for a second before returning to his usual stoic expression. 

“There was something I wished to discuss with you actually.” Zemo announced as he picked up his own cup. 

You almost choked on your drink at the words but you hid behind your mug, hoping he didn’t notice. He did.

“About what?” You asked. 

“I wanted to apologise for Madripoor.” Zemo surprised you with that. 

“Apologise?” You were confused to what he was talking about. 

“I am aware that it was merely a role, that we were undercover, but I touched you without your consent. I wanted to apologise for when we were with Selby.”

You were completely shocked. You didn’t not expect this from Zemo at all. 

“It’s okay. We all have to do stuff we don't want to do on missions like these.” You tried to brush it off. After all, Bucky had to become the Winter Soldier and Sam had to drink a cobra’s heart back in Madripoor. There was definitely worse things that could’ve happened. 

“I never said I didn’t want to do it. I am simply apologising for not asking for permission first.” Zemo’s eyes were glued to your face as he sipped his coffee. He was watching for a reaction. 

You felt your mouth go dry, you tried to swallow as you began to rise from your seat. 

“Uh, t-thanks for the coffee, Zemo but...” You tried grabbing your mug but you only knocked it to the floor by accident. 

“Shit!” You hissed as you bent down, picking up the broken bits. You felt your heart racing from the look Zemo had just given you.

Zemo rushed around the island with a rag, he placed it over the split coffee before taking hold of your wrist to stop you from picking up the pieces. 

Electricity shot up your arm and your head snapped up to meet his eyes. 

“No use crying over spilt coffee.” Zemo muttered, a smile tugging on one corner of his mouth. 

“I-I wasn’t––”

“––Is there a particular reason you are so jumpy tonight?” Zemo inquired. 

You rose back to standing; Zemo let your wrist go as you did but followed your action. 

The air was thick between you as you withheld your answer. 

There was no way you could admit you were worried of being close to him because of the undeniable pull he had on you since that night. 

“I think...” Zemo stepped over the soaked rag which only made you take a step back. “...You enjoyed being touched and now you are confused to why.”

Your chest began to rise and fall heavily as Zemo continued to walk towards you until your back hit the wall behind you. 

“But forgive me if I am wrong.” Zemo held his hands up with a smile, taking his final few steps until he was close enough for his cologne to engulf the air around you.

“You are.” You whispered but your voice had failed you in sounding convincing. 

“Is that right, little bird?” Zemo used the pet name he had given you in Selby's office. He lifted his hand to brush your hair from your cheek behind your ear. “Because I believe you haven’t stop thinking about it. Just as I haven't.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You only just breathed out your words. If Zemo hadn’t been so close, he wouldn’t have heard them. 

“Don’t you?” Zemo titled his head at you. “Because I am at liberty to remind you that I once worked for Sokivian intelligence. It was my job for a long time to study people, learn them, read them.” Zemo let his eyes drop down to your body before coming back to meet your eyes. “I can tell how a person is feeling just from observing their body. The way they move. The way they are breathing.” Zemo placed his hand in the centre of your chest where your silver necklace sat. The metal burned against your skin underneath Zemo’s warm flesh. 

Your slow deep breaths lifted Zemo’s hand up and down as you stared back at him. 

“I can feel your heart racing.” Zemo uttered. “Are you afraid?”

“No.” You shook your head as your eyes flickered to the man’s lip for just a second. 

“Good.” Zemo smirked. 

Suddenly Zemo was ripped away from you. 

Bucky had teared Zemo back and pushed him across the room. Zemo staggered backwards before standing and adjusting his sweater from how Bucky had grabbed him. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bucky growled at Zemo with a look in his eye that could kill. 

“I was merely having a conversation with (Y/n).” Zemo shrugged, acting as if everything was perfectly innocent. 

“Oh yeah it looked like a real polite conversation with (Y/n) backed up in a corner and your hands on her!” Sam was stood behind Bucky. The both of them were squaring up in front of Zemo to protect you. 

“I didn’t need your help.” You stepped forward, trying to intervene. 

“You put your hands on her again; I won’t stop myself next time. I’ll turn you into a new coat.” Bucky warned Zemo as he ignored you. 

“I apologise.” Zemo lifted his hands up in defence. 

“No.” Sam pointed back to you. “Apologise to her.” 

Zemo turned his head to you. When your eyes met, he smirked just ever so slightly, you knew the boys didn’t notice at least. 

“I apologise, (Y/n).” The way your name sounded in Zemo’s mouth made your stomach flip. 

“It’s fine.” You said before pushing past Bucky and Sam. You hated it when they played protective big brothers and you didn’t even need saving... You think...

(PART 2)

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

wait draco fucking his arranged marriage wife on a couch after she admitted to still seeing her ex (not knowing he has feelings for her obviously) and he’s like oh? can he fuck you like this tho?

pairing: draco malfoy x reader 

warning(s): 18+, adultery, arranged marriage, slight degradation

word count: 3.0k 

a/n: this was not supposed to be this long but it ran away from me as i started writing. this is the longest thing i’ve written on tumblr so far and i hope you all enjoy it! one of my own person favorites. 

Another day felt like another day wasted in the walls in the stuffy Manor you called home. Except it wasn’t home. And it wasn’t another day. 

No. After weeks of trying to get your husband to open up to you, you had had enough. It was an arranged marriage, and although you were no fool and had no pretenses of pretending to love him, you’d at least like to get to know the person you called your husband. 

Back in school you had always thought the infamous Draco Malfoy was rather handsome, anyone would be a fool to deny it. He was confident and popular, great at Quidditch, and seemed like the perfect gentleman - everything you could want in a husband. Turns out it was the opposite. All the feelings you thought you might develop for him were unrequited, and he ignored you at every turn. 

So you took it into your own hands to get what you were so desperately craving: physical affection. It didn’t take much, truly. All you did was send an owl to your ex boyfriend from your school days and one thing led to another until you were in his bed, wrapped in his arms, and rocked to your core with pleasure. 

But now you were back in your ‘home’, wasting away within the walls of the Manor with your husband nowhere to be found. 

It wasn’t until hours later, when you were getting ready to push yourself up from the couch to head to bed, did the fireplace flash green, signaling his arrival home. 

“Hello. How was your day?” You asked politely, hoping just this once he might fall into a normal conversation with you. 

“Fine,” he replied shortly, not even bothering to look at you as he emptied his pockets and put down his very important briefcase that was a mystery to you. 

A blaze of frustration ran through your body, desperate to get more out of this man than just one word. A crazy thought came into your head, to tell him about your day, but you pushed it aside. No, Malfoy’s wouldn’t think highly of a girl who committed adultery within weeks of marriage. But…

“My day was great,” you told him, rather impulsively. 

At first he seemed shocked that you even said anything, the conversation usually reached its end by now. But he recovered quickly, politely asking “And what was so great about your day?” 

Naturally, you could lie. Tell him you met up with your female friends for lunch. Tell him you read a good book. Tell him anything but the truth. But… 

“I reacquainted myself with my ex boyfriend from school,” you told him, daring to look him in the eye as you spoke. 

“Reacquainted? How?” He asked, a series of emotions flashing over his face that you had never seen before. It sent a thrill through you to see him showing any emotions at all. 

Again, you could lie. Tell him you met him for lunch. Tell him that you ran into each other in Diagon Alley. Tell him anything but the truth. But… 

You knew even if the truth did come out, he would have to keep it a secret. He wouldn’t dare be seen as a spineless cuckold as his wife went around sleeping with whomever she pleased. 

“I owled him a few days ago, asking to meet him,” you began, watching as his face contorted into something akin to anger. “I went to his home, for lunch, and it didn’t end with lunch.” 

You left the end of your short story rather ambiguous, wanting to see what he’d do with the information you presented him. He had barely moved from his place by the fireplace, but the look he was giving you could set you up in flames if he wanted it to. 

“So, what? You fucked him?” He asked, the politeness in his voice giving way to the anger he was feeling. 

In a sick way, it pleased you to see him angry. Gave you a sense of pride that you, the wife he had seen fit to ignore, could get such a rise out of him. 

“Yes, seeing as you haven’t even touched me,” was your spiteful reply, foolishly placing the blame all on him despite your own actions. 

“You stupid, silly little girl,” he said under his breath as he stalked over towards you, menacing in just how much bigger he was than you. “You don’t fucking understand a thing about me, do you?” He asked, hovering over you, his hands braced on the back of the couch that you were still seated on, your faces inches apart. 

“You don’t let me. You never speak to me,” you argued, ready to turn this into a fight filled with low blows if he really wanted it to go that way. 

“You think this is a fucking walk in the park for me? Having some girl I’ve barely met in my house looking terrified of me every time I come near her? Suffering through your daily attempts to talk to me, but knowing how unbearably uncomfortable you are in being here? You think I wanted this? For either of us?” He asked seamlessly, almost in a rush to get all of his thoughts out before he thought better of it. A look of hesitation passed his face for a brief moment before he continued on, more quietly now. “You think I wanted the girl I couldn’t take my eyes off for a single day after fifth year hating being in my presence? Going behind my back to fuck someone else because I’ve held myself back in case she was uncomfortable doing anything more than just acting like my wife?” 

He didn’t meet your eye at first, but when he did you saw the weight of his emotions. He was hurt, by himself and by you. He was jealous of the man you had chosen to spend your day with. He was terrified of your reaction to his words. He was furious he even had to have this conversation, in this way, in this situation. He was relieved he finally got it all out. 

“Wh- What are you saying?” You asked cautiously, not wanting to twist his words to meet your own fantasy of having a loving husband. 

He took a deep breath before he answered, but made no moves to rid himself of his proximity to you. “Y/N, I’ve been head over heels for you since the moment we met. But having an arranged marriage, I couldn’t do much more but assume you didn’t share the same feelings as me.” 

“Oh,” was all you could even say back, too overwhelmed to think of anything else. You searched his eyes for the lie, but they held nothing but the raw truth. He must have seen something in your eyes as well, because his tone shifted into something else entirely before he spoke again. 

“Now, Y/N, I think we got off on the wrong foot and I didn’t make my intentions clear with you. I intend to be a good husband, a loving husband. And yet despite my best efforts to be the perfect gentleman so far, you went behind my back to sleep with some other man. And what does that say about you?” He asked, his eyes boring into yours as he spoke. 

You were sure he could hear your heart rate from how close he was, your pulse racing at his words. “I- I don’t know,” you stuttered, willing to let him take this wherever he saw fit. 

“I’m not going to place the blame all on you, because I know I haven’t been perfect. But one might say that you’re a dumb little whore, and I might be inclined to agree. A stupid, little girl trapped in her big, posh Manor. Going out to let any guy fuck her, not even knowing that her husband can fuck her better than anyone else could.” 

“And you could fuck me better than someone I know can?” You asked incredulously, shocked at the words spilling from his mouth. But even if you tried, you couldn’t deny the way he was so sure of himself, so sure he could please you better than any man, aroused you to no end. 

He let out a dark chuckle and looked at you, amused. “Of course I could, darling. That is, if you give me the chance,” he told you in a teasing tone, before pushing himself off of the couch to walk away. 

“Wait,” you started, once again acting on impulse. You might regret your next words, but damn it if you weren’t curious. And he was your husband after all. “Prove it.” 

“Prove it?” He asked, turning on his heel to face you again, a victorious grin written across his face. When you nodded, he only lifted a brow before he continued. “Now? Haven’t you had a long day of, oh how did you put it, ‘getting reacquainted with your ex’?” 

“You talk a big game, Draco. Now I’m asking you to prove it. Scared?” You asked, baiting him. 

In a split second and a flurry of movement later, he had you laying down against the couch, pressed into the expensive fabric, with his weight on top of you, pinning you down.  

“I’ll give you one last chance to back out of this. Tell me now, otherwise I’m going to fuck you through this couch,” he said through gritted teeth, clearly fed up with your antics. 

Without even thinking, your lips crashed onto his in a heated kiss. Lips you hadn’t felt since your wedding day. You hadn’t even remembered what they felt like until his tongue was darting along your bottom lip, hastily requesting entry. 

As your kiss remained heated, he was expertly shedding you both of your clothing until you were almost bare. He had only left you in your small, lace thong in the aftermath of his destruction. 

His hands traveled your body possessively, as if trying to memorize every curve and edge of your skin. The moment your bra came off, your breasts were in his hands, easily rolling your nipples until you were gasping for air. He swallowed all your noises greedily, as if you were feeding them to a starved man. 

It wasn’t until he pulled away, his hands resting on the waistband on your underwear, did you have a moment for a coherent thought. 

“One last time, are you sure Y/N?” He asked as if it was painful for him. As if it was the case that you said no, it would be immensely difficult for him to pull himself away. As if it was the case that you said no, he’d die a painful death at your feet. 

“I’m sure,” you said softly, not wanting him to think for a second that you had any hesitant thoughts about this moment. 

As he slowly pulled down your final layer of clothing, it gave you a chance to finally look at him.

And he was beautiful. 

He looked like an ancient Greek statue, perfectly carved and crafted out of marble come to life. His perfectly defined lines, his impossible definition, his muscles in all the right places. Your eyes eventually traveled down to his cock, and your breath hitched when you finally saw how large he was. If you had known this all along, perhaps you wouldn’t have sought out another man for your pleasure. 

He seemed to be taking you in just the same. His eye trailing down your body with such reverence that you felt like an ancient Greek goddess yourself, if only for a moment. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he said softly, almost as if he didn’t mean for you to hear the words. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, giving him a shy smile when his eyes met yours again. 

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time,” he told you, still in the soft tone that he had. He gracefully let his body fall back over yours, bracing himself on one forearm while his other hand traveled the length of your body. 

When he caught your lips again, it didn’t hold the same heat as before, but there was something new there. Something good. Something that could only be translated through your lips in that very moment. Something akin to adoration, worship, even love. 

His hand stopped its travels at the apex of your thighs, expertly running his fingers over your clit and down your slit, feeling for himself just how wet you were. He groaned at the feeling of how wet and warm you were, and you felt his cock twitch against your stomach in anticipation. 

He slowly opened you up for him with his fingers. First with one, then two, even venturing to three before he was content that you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He didn’t rush the process, kept a slow, steady, predictable pace as he worked your body. And every time you got close to the edge, he’d gently bring you back down, leaving you a whining, writhing mess by the time he was aligning his cock with you. 

“Draco, please,” you begged shamelessly, more than ready for him. 

“Did you beg for him earlier?” He asked almost nonchalantly, teasing you with the tip of his cock. 

He must have seen the shock on your face, shocked that he would bring it up in this moment, because he only chuckled before pushing inside of you, a gasp easily pulled from your lips at the intense stretch. 

He didn’t fuck you gently, immediately starting with a breakneck pace that left you seeing stars from the first moment he bottomed out. You were easily rewarding him with your moans, letting him know just how good it felt without words. You couldn’t speak even if you tried. 

But he talked. Oh, yes. He ran that pretty mouth of his as if he wasn’t thrusting so deep inside of you the couch was rocking. 

“I was right, wasn’t I? You’ve never been fucked like this, have you?” He asked, right as you were beginning to climb that peak into a pleasurable abyss. 

You gave him a feeble nod in return, not trusting your own mouth to properly respond. 

“Did he fuck you like this?” He asked, biting the question out through clenched teeth as if he was dreading the answer. “Tell me, Y/N, did he?” He asked, fucking you even harder now in his frustration. 

“No,” you cried out, breaking free of your moans for a second to answer him. “He can’t fuck me like this,” you added, if only to stroke Draco’s ego, but nevertheless it was true. No one could fuck you like this. 

“Cum for me, let me feel you,” Draco said, lowering his head into the crook of your neck to ground himself, trying to fight off his orgasm until you got yours. 

It didn’t take much longer after that. He had worked you up so much beforehand that your orgasm came to you easily and came with such a force you were left breathless in its wake. Your nails carved down Draco’s muscular back, sure to leave delightful scratch marks that you could study later, as you cried out in bliss. 

The moment he felt your walls contract around him, he let himself go with a low groan. The sound was music to your ears, and only intensified the feelings you were experiencing. To have him so close, sharing in the same ecstasy you were, it was like magic. 

When you both came down from your highs, he swiftly rearranged the both of you until you wrapped in his arms, both lying on the couch. It was a strange feeling, being in his arms for the first time like this. If someone had told you this would be happening only a few hours before, you would have laughed in their face. But now here you both were, sweaty and satiated, basking in the bliss of finally consummating your marriage. 

The thought made you giggle, and when he shot you a perplexed look, you couldn’t help but explain. 

“We finally consummated our marriage,” you explained, still giggling. “And don’t worry, by the way, I’m on the potion,” you thought to add, just in case kids weren’t looming in the future for him. 

“Good to know you won’t be birthing any bastard children,” was his sullen response, clearly still hurt by the events of the day. 

You shifted your body until you were looking directly at him, but he made no moves to pull his arms away from you. If anything, he held you tighter when he felt you move, unwilling to give up the moment. 

“Look, I’m sorry about what I did today. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair to you. And if I had known even a fraction how you felt about me, I wouldn’t have done it, because I feel the same about you. I was just feeling incredibly stuck in what I thought was a hopeless marriage, and I was lonely, so I sought out someone else. But now I understand that that isn’t the case, and I can promise you, from the bottom of my heart, that it will never happen again,” you told him, putting everything out there for him. 

“You feel the same?” He asked timidly, after a moment of deliberation. There was a look of hope on his face, and never in your wildest dreams would you shut down such a rare display of emotion from him. Then again, you may be expecting more of his emotions from here on out. 

“Yes. I’ve always been attracted to you, and the little bits of you that I do know, I like. I want this to work, Draco. I want this to be a real marriage. All I wanted was a shot.” you said, just praying he wanted the same. 

“‘I’ll admit, I wasn’t a good husband to you by any means, and I probably unknowingly pushed you into doing what you did. But now that our intentions are out there, I’d like nothing more than to give this a real shot,” he responded, that newly familiar look of hope in his eyes present once more. 

In that moment, you could both feel it. The beginning of something great.

[v-hope]

Sweet Night

Pairing: Artist!Taehyung x Heiress!Reader, Heir!OC x Reader

Genre: Fluff (yes, only fluff today, enjoy), Ex Roommates AU, Enemies to Lovers AU, Arranged Marriage (Heir!OC x Reader)

Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: Neither you nor Taehyung were expecting you to show up to his art exhibition, let alone when everyone was already gone, for the two of you were well aware that you didn’t have much of a choice when it came to attending your possible future husband’s charity event instead. Then again, neither of you were counting on your brother and sister in law to take your side and drive you all the way over to him so you could surprise him before the day was over.

A/N: Helloo! This is part 24 of my Social Media AU “Belong”, but you can read it as a stand-alone one shot if you want! I would like to make a shout out to my 🇫🇮 anon for giving me the Jimin idea (you know which one, I changed it a bit to make it fit the story better, but still). I hope you guys enjoy!

Looking away from the backseat’s window, your eyes focused on your trembling hands instead — the city lights as you passed them by being the only source of light as your brother drove through the streets of Seoul, which for some reason seemed to be extremely long that particular night.

The light music Miyoung had taken upon playing on the radio from the passenger seat, in an attempt to create a somewhat calm atmosphere for you and the nervousness she was sure you were feeling, had yet to make you actually calm down. If anything, you could feel your shaky hands become sweatier by the second as you felt a tingle of anticipation in your chest.

Although you wanted with everything in you to attend Taehyung’s art exhibition, you had got out of bed that morning being mentally prepared to spend the entire day at the Lee’s charity event.

You had been ready to spend most of the day with your parents pretending that everything in your relationship was alright, perfect even. You had been smiling for the cameras all day, greeting people you were sure were just pretending to have the perfect life as well, and being forced to make small talk with the ones who used to be your friends yet had turned their back on you as soon as they had found out you were choosing a more modest life over the luxurious one — the same so called friends of yours that had to keep quiet about your little secret if they didn’t want your parents to destroy their family’s business. After all, your family was with no doubt the most powerful one in Korea. And honestly? You couldn’t help but see it now as a curse, after having spent a lifetime believing it was a gift.

Not only that, but you had also spent most of the day next to Sungjin, lovingly posing for the cameras and holding hands, making you wish every single second it was Taehyung instead. You were sure that way it would’ve been more bearable. What you hated the most was the fact that you knew said pictures were being posted right away, meaning Taehyung would see them, and you hated the utter thought of having the man you had feelings for see you acting like a happy couple with someone else — even more after you had to cancel on him to attend an event with the one guy he had asked you not to bring with you to his art exhibition to begin with.

And yet, after having to endure all of that, here you were — a little over an hour after Taehyung’s exhibit was done, being driven over there by your brother and sister in law, while Jimin held him back at the gallery, and you not even knowing what you were supposed to say at all once you saw him. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe this whole impromptu apparition of yours was a good idea at all. It had been a long day for him, you knew that for sure, and although he had told you earlier that day that he would’ve loved to have you there, maybe by this point he just wanted to go home and get some rest.

You didn’t have much more time to think about that, though, for just as you remained deep in your thoughts, Seokjin pulled up right in front of the address you had given him before. Looking up from your fidgeting hands, you were met by two pairs of eyes already focused on you.

“Do you want us to go with you?” Seokjin asked, hand on his keys, ready to pull them out at your command.

“Um…” you hesitated, leaning closer to the window as your eyes travelled around the rather isolated street in search of any paparazzis, finding yourself to be quite relieved when you saw none of them around. “Maybe just until I find Tae”.

They nodded, exchanging one last look before they made their way out of the car right as you did. Feeling the cold breeze of the night as soon as you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but hug yourself, sticking close to Jin and Miyoung as if you were a kid heading to school with her parents after being called by the principal.

Right as you were about to reach the entrance, however, Yoongi made his way out of the building, looking the other way before his eyes fell on all three of you.

“Hey,” he greeted, politely bowing his head, which you didn’t wait to reciprocate. “I came to see if you were anywhere near, Jimin is going crazy trying to come up with more excuses for Taehyung not to leave”.

You chuckled at his comment, imagining just how troubled your friend must have been. After all, and to be fair, you had taken a good while to get there. “Well, I’m here now”.

“That I can see” he sarcastically replied, eyes travelling from you to Seokjin, and then focusing on Miyoung. “Are you all coming in?” his eyes went back to you.

“Is it just the three of you inside?” your brother spoke up before you could nod. As far as he had understood, it should have been only Jimin and Taehyung inside.

“Oh, no” Yoongi denied. “Namjoon-ie is with us, too”.

“Namjoon?” Miyoung wondered, puzzled eyes going up to your brother. Given her reaction, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she knew what the rest of you didn’t when it came to those two.

Seokjin bit the inside of his cheek, giving her a knowing look before his eyes went back to Yoongi. “Actually, I, um… I just remembered Miyoung-ie and I have things to do, so…”

Although your sister in law looked troubled for a split second there, she wasted no time in nodding her head. Looking at Yoongi, she struggled to get the words out of her mouth. “W-We do! So, um…” her eyes focused on you. “We should probably leave. Is it okay?”

“Sure…”

“You’ll be okay?” she pushed it, earning a small laugh from you over his motherly ways.

“She’s in good hands” Yoongi reassured her, receiving a genuine smile from her that only caused his lips to part into one of his own as well.

“Okay” she sweetly replied, giving him a small nod as a sign of gratitude.

Seokjin playfully nudged her, grabbing her hand so the whole marriage thing could at least be a little bit more believable. “Shall we go then?”

“Mhm…” she replied.

“Call me when you’re done here” your brother demanded.

“Oh, I’m sure Taehyung will drive her home” Yoongi’s words got chills running up your spine.

“Okay,” Jin’s eyes travelled from Yoongi to you. “Call me when you’re home then”.

“I will” you obediently complied.

With that said, your brother and sister in law turned around, leaving you alone with Yoongi, who didn’t wait to motion towards the door for you to go inside.

“After you” he politely said.

You smiled, taking in a shaky breath before you took a step in. Suddenly all the nervousness you had felt on your way here came right back to hit you in the face, not knowing at all what to do once you were in front of the guy you had ditched the Lee’s event for — not even knowing how he would react at all, yet hoping he would be happy to have you there.

You didn’t get too much time to mentally prepare, for as soon as you entered the place being followed by Yoongi, you caught a glimpse of the backs of the other three men inside as they faced one of the many paintings that brought some life to the neutral white covering every single wall of the gallery. And it was a matter of you taking a few steps towards them for three pairs of eyes to be set on you. However, yours were only focused on one particular pair of them — those chocolate ones that displayed a mixture of surprise and pure happiness in them.

“You’re here?” Taehyung asked the obvious once you reached their side, causing his friends to chuckle in amusement.

“Seems like it…” you nervously managed to get out.

Silence took over as big smiles were plastered all over your faces — on yours and Taehyung’s, as the two of you were happy as hell to see each other, and on his friends, for they were having a blast watching the two of you awkwardly stand in front of one another with those dumb smiles of yours, not knowing what to do next.

“Come on,” Jimin chimed in, placing his hand behind your back and lightly pushing you towards Tae. “Your girl fooled her parents into coming here, the least she deserves is a hug”.

With a giggle escaping Tae’s mouth, he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you when your body was about to collide with his. Feeling your heart going wild at the warmness of his touch, you wrapped your arms around his waist as well, resting your face on his chest and taking in his scent right as he lowered his head just enough to bury it in your neck.

“Thank you for coming” he mumbled.

A light chuckle abandoned your mouth, deciding to say nothing and instead just nod your head and wrap your arms tighter around his figure.

“Okay, I think this is our cue to go” Namjoon’s voice broke the comfortable silence you had fallen into.

“Yup” Yoongi agreed, patting Jimin’s back to catch his attention, as he was shamelessly taking pictures of the two of you to remember the moment his friends somewhat got together. “Let’s give the love birds some privacy”.

Nodding his head, Jimin shoved his phone back into his pocket — neither of them bothering to say goodbye not to kill the moment the two of you were sharing, and just quietly leaving the gallery instead.

Once you heard the front doors being closed, Taehyung pulled away, cupping your face in his warm hands and smiling at the sight of you. “I never thought seeing you would make me this happy”.

“Yah, Kim Taehyung” you called him out. “I’m sure you can be sweeter than that”.

He chuckled, rolling his eyes at how spoiled you had become when it came to him and his show of affection. “I’m happy you’re here, princess”.

You smiled, resting your hands over his and drawing small circles with your thumbs on his skin. “I’m happy I’m here”.

His smile turned sweeter somehow, lightly pressing his forehead on yours before a chuckle escaped his mouth and he amusedly shook his head.

“What is it?” you wondered.

“Nothing,” he laughed, pulling away and letting go of your face. “It just makes sense now why the guys were trying so hard to keep me here. Specially Jimin”.

“Was he losing it?” you laughed.

“Totally” he nodded. “He made me go over the whole exhibition again and explain each one of my paintings at least twice to him” his eyes travelled to one particular spot on the wall right next to the painting they had been admiring when you walked in. “When he ran out of pieces to ask me about he pointed at this small crack on the wall and asked me how I had come up with such a deep concept”.

This time, you couldn’t help but tilt your head back as a throaty laugh escaped your mouth — one that had Taehyung giggling, absolutely loving the sound of your laugh.

“He’s an idiot” you stated. “But he kept you here for me, so…”

“That he did” he smiled, biting his bottom lip as his eyes unconsciously travelled down your body — that pink dress of yours sure did look even better in person. “Aren’t you cold?”

Your eyes instinctively went down to your uncovered legs and then to your uncovered arms, remembering how you had hugged yourself outside minutes ago because of the cold air of the night. “It’s alright in here”.

He nodded his head. “My coat is by the entrance, in case you get too cold”.

You smiled sweetly, yet it didn’t wait to turn into what seemed more like a teasing smirk. “So you told me earlier today that you wished you had got to see me in this dress and now you want to cover it up?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes in amusement. “Don’t get me wrong, princess. I already told you I think you look beautiful and am most definitely enjoying the view right now” his bold words brought heat to your face. “I’m just looking after you”.

“How sweet of you” your sarcastic tone didn’t really match your flustered expression. “I’m okay for now. Will let you enjoy the view for a little longer”.

“How considerate of you” he was quick to follow your sarcastic antics, silently enjoying that particular choice of yours.

“I know, no need to say it” you playfully squinted your eyes at him, later taking a look at the whole gallery. “You think you could show me around?”

He nodded, a bright smile already taking over his face. “It will be my pleasure” his dramatism got a playful roll of eyes from you. “Where would you like to start?”

“This one is alright” you pointed out, moving closer to the painting you already had in front. “So,” you began, eyes tauntingly going to the crack next to his painting. “Tell me about how you came up with such a deep concept”.

“Shut up” he amusedly rolled his eyes.

“No, but seriously now” you smiled, this time staring at the piece of art in front of you. “Tell me about this one”.

Taehyung’s art, you had found out quite a while ago, tended to be on the abstract side. Therefore, it was even harder for you —or anyone for that matter— to interpret.

This one piece, just like the tag placed above it on the wall let you know, was called ‘Winter Bear’. You could clearly see the winter, the palette of colours he had used just screamed cold days and melancholy. Nevertheless, the bear mentioned in the title was nowhere to be found in the painting — instead, you managed to tell apart what you thought was a little boy, somewhat hidden in between all the colourful strokes surrounding his figure.

“That’s me” he pointed out when he could no longer deal with the confusion in your face, managing to draw your attention back to him.

“What?” your bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “What is the word ‘bear’ doing in the title then?”

He chuckled. “It’s art, you dork. You can name it anything you want”.

“I think it must mean something, though…”

Taehyung bit his bottom lip. Of course you would know better.

“That’s what my grandparents used to call me” he confessed.

You nodded quietly, understandingly — not really knowing what to say yet not wanting to stay silent. “You must miss them so much…”

“Sometimes,” he nodded. “I mean, not a day goes by in which I don’t miss them, it’s just that… it’s been years so… you kinda grow used to it” his shoulders moved up and down, in a shrug that tried not to make it seem like a big deal. “The whole exhibit was related to winter, so it naturally reminded me of them and how they used to call me, and… I guess I got too personal with this exhibition”.

You gave him a sweet smile of reassurance, reaching for his hand and holding it in yours. “It’s your art. It’s supposed to be personal”.

The boxy smile that he gave you right then was all it took for your heart to skip a beat, later taking in a shaky breath when he intertwined his long fingers with yours and his thumb drew small circles on the back of your hand.

Your eyes went back to the painting in front, trying your best not to let him know what his touch did to you. “I love it” you stated, much to his pleasure. “Love the way it seems to make no sense when you only read the title, yet it makes complete sense after you explain it”.

He smiled wholeheartedly. “I think it just makes no sense” his words had you furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “Not everyone is lucky enough to know the true meaning behind it”.

You giggled. “Lucky me then”.

“Lucky you” he agreed.

Tugging at his hand, you moved on to the next painting, and then the next one, and so on. Not a second had gone by in which you had let go of each other’s hand as you commented on the different paintings and the meanings behind each of them — the two of you finding yourselves having the time of your lives as you gave him your take on them and he confirmed whether or not it was what he had tried to portray.

That was what each of you liked about art so much, the fact that there was no wrong answer and you could discuss it so freely. Sure, he had something in mind the moment he painted each one of his pieces, but it was always fun to see what the rest of the people would feel when they looked at them.

And, for some reason, it was particularly enjoyable to him when it came to discussing art with you. So he had found out back when he invited you to one of his friend’s exhibits. It was different than talking about it with his friends, and he didn’t know if it was the fact that, unlike them, you actually knew about art, or just the fact that it was you.

Maybe both.

Tightening your hold on his hand when there were only four more artworks left, you moved on to the next one, having your jaw drop at the sight of it.

“Hey, this is the one I fixed” you blurted out in both surprise and excitement, unconsciously moving closer to it and dragging Taehyung with you so you could appreciate it better.

Although you were excited to see it there, you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up at the memories it brought back — the fact that you had collided with it and spilled coffee on it, still being both upsetting and embarrassing as hell.

You remembered quite well the way you had ran out in search of an art shop to find the necessary supplies to fix it before Taehyung could get home. Maybe you should have been faster. Not like that would’ve been of too much help, though, for whether you wanted to admit it to yourself or not, you knew very well he would’ve noticed something was off with his newest creation right away.

Looking at the different shades of blue and touches of yellow right then brought you back to that night you pulled an all-nighter, meticulously trying to recreate his painting — the hardest part being that you had only got to see it for a split second before the coffee that used to be on your —by then— broken mug had ruined it. You could only be thankful that it had been just a particular part of the painting and not all of it.

Staring into the picture, you had to stop yourself from reaching your hand out to it and trace your fingers over the pair of eyes you could tell apart in yet another one of his abstract works. You had not truly paid attention to them that one night you spent in Taehyung’s living room fixing his painting, for you had been way too invested in the details you had ruined. And you couldn’t help but feel relieved over the fact that the hot liquid had not touched the eyes he had so perfectly portrayed, for although they looked quite familiar somehow, you weren’t sure you would have been able to do any justice to them.

“I didn’t think you were actually displaying it” you mumbled after a few seconds, eyes still fixed on the painting.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he cocked one of his eyebrows. “Not to be that guy, but it’s quite good”.

“Yes,” you agreed in a heartbeat. “But you can tell one part of it is quite different to the rest of it”.

“You did a good job fixing it, princess” he recognized. “No one could really tell the difference”.

“I can tell” you mumbled.

Taehyung laughed under his breath. “Will you just look up to its title?”

Doing as told out of curiosity, your eyes darted up in a heartbeat — feeling them well up with tears when you read what the label above the artwork said.

“Sweet Night”, ft. Ariel.

Looking up to hold back the tears you felt so dumb for even having in the first place, you shook your head as the corners of your lips curved slightly up. “You did not just credit me after being the one to ruin it to begin with”.

“Hey, I wasn’t taking full credit over something I didn’t completely paint” he stated. “Plus, it’s smart, don’t you think? No one will ever know this Ariel person is no other than the infamous Kim Y/N”.

“You really didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to” he stated.

You bit your bottom lip, no longer being able to hold back your smile and letting it part your lips like it had been threatening to. Taehyung couldn’t help but laugh under his breath over how adorable he thought you were, not even dreaming of stopping himself when he let go of your hand and placed his arm over your shoulders instead, pulling you closer to him as the two of you stared into the artwork in front.

“Why ‘Sweet Night’?” you wondered, leaning your head on his body.

He shrugged. “It’s silly”.

“Come onnn,” you pouted, pulling slightly away so you could look at him. “Out of all the paintings here, you can’t leave out the explanation to this particular one”.

Taehyung sighed, knowing well enough that, one, you were right, and, two, you were not letting this go until he told you.

“It was inspired by that one night I came home to you and Sungjin” he said rather bitterly, remembering pretty well how he had not been fazed at all by the fact that you and said guy had obviously been making out right before, yet feeling his blood boil at the mere thought of it now. “We stayed up late eating lots and lots of sweet popcorn because I had way too many of them and you became addicted to them and how well they went with wine” a small laugh escaped his mouth at the memory. “So I just went with that. Plus, you were being really sweet that night and it was the first time I got to see that side of you, so…”

“That is really sweet” you mumbled, feeling the heat reach your cheeks.

“Don’t” he pleaded.

You laughed. “It truly is sweet, Vante” the way your eyes had softened at the sight of him, had his heart skipping a beat. “What do the eyes mean, though?”

“You just want to torture me by now” he called you out.

“I’m just asking!” you defended yourself with a giggle.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, feeling the heat reach his face as he intently focused on the painting, evading your eyes as he spoke.

“I’ve never been a fan of people having their full attention on me, I don’t like being the center of attention… I mean, I told you today how I was not looking forward to the moment I would have to give a speech in front of all my guests” you nodded, remembering how you had tried to cheer him up when it came to that. “So I don’t really talk about my art… or about art in general, to anyone. I just show it to them and let them interpret it, that’s what art is about, after all. But that one night you asked me a lot about my art and I actually felt like talking about it with you, and I remember the way your eyes were fixed on me almost as if you were scared you would miss some kind of important detail,” he laughed lightly. “And for the first time I liked the attention. I guess that inspired me enough to paint this”.

“So those are my eyes?” you asked.

He shrugged. “It’s up for interpretation”.

You shook your head in amusement, staring down as you felt your face burning. “You’re the worst”.

Taehyung chuckled, pulling you closer to him with the arm that was still around your shoulders, and using his free hand to place two fingers under your chin and make you look up at him. “Am I now?”

You felt your breathing become heavier the second his nose faintly bumped on yours — his lips only centimeters away from your anticipating ones. Too intimidated by him right then, knowing well enough he had you wrapped around his finger, you managed to shake your head no to answer his question, without taking your eyes away from his for even a second. Or well, that until his chocolate ones travelled down to your mouth.

Staring down into his tempting lips as they slowly came closer to yours, you looked up to his eyes for a split second, just enough to catch a glimpse of the way his remained fixed on your mouth. And then, you saw nothing — eyes instinctively closing when his lips softly trapped your bottom one.

Just one touch of his lips made you wonder how you had managed to go on all these weeks without getting a taste of them again.

“I thought you didn’t do this whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing?” you whispered against his lips, opening your eyes to find his dark ones already fixed on you.

A small, breathy laugh escaped his mouth, leaning in so it would faintly brush against yours. “I’m not kissing you as a friend”.

Your lips parted into a smile, not letting another second go by before you pressed your lips to his, making him smile and cup your face in his hands just like he had done weeks ago with the intention of deepening the kiss.

With your arms wrapping around his neck, you pulled him closer to your body, letting go of the kiss for a second to catch your breath and having him take advantage of your slightly open mouth to trap your bottom lip in his eager ones again, this time tracing his tongue over it and slipping it inside your still open mouth — meeting your awaiting one in the middle just the way he wanted.

Letting go of your face, one of his hands travelled down to your lower back so he could feel you even closer, fingers tracing their way down your bare arms as he did so, and feeling goosebumps form on your skin.

“You’re cold?” he asked, taking one second to catch his breath before his wet lips were back on yours.

You shook your head no, a small, shy laugh escaping your mouth. “I didn’t get chills because I’m cold”.

Taehyung bit his lip, feeling the corners of his mouth curving up and pressing one last kiss to your lips before finally pulling away from you as his eyes were intently fixed on yours.

“I will keep my coat to myself then” he teased you.

“Nope,” you were quick to deny. “I am taking you up on the coat offer when we leave”.

“Okay” he laughed lightly, the hand that was still on your face travelling down your arm to intertwine his fingers with yours. “Shall we go?”

You shook your head no quite effusively. “We’re not done with the exhibit yet!”

“I’m hungry, let’s go eat something” Taehyung whined. “We can come back some other day”.

“Yah,” you called him out. “I came all the way here just to see your artworks”.

Your words earned a somewhat bitter pout from him. “Thought you had come all the way over here to see me”.

You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at that, tugging on his hand to pull him closer, and then making him replace said pout with a smile when you pressed two chaste kisses to his mouth. “It was implicit” your teasing words had him rolling his eyes. “We only have three more to go and then I’m all yours”.

He smirked, pulling you with him to the next piece. “I like the sound of that”.

“I meant it as in, then we can go get some food” you mumbled, feeling your face burning for what felt like the millionth time that night.

“I know” he pecked your lips. “Doesn’t change that I enjoy the sound of that”.

[bullshxtvixen]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Pairing: Bokuto x Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Song: Put It On Me - Matt Maeson 

Warnings: 18+, Coercion(dubcon themes), size kink, cream pie, virginity kink, corruption kink, rough sex, spitting, spanking, light choking, light assplay(I couldn’t help myself), dom!bokuto(he’s kind of an ass oops).

A/N: So uh, it’s finally here…My first fic in two months and i’m ngl, i’ve been dreading posting for so long, but i tried to give you guys something good for my return, so please let me know what you think and go easy on me, i’m a little rusty sksks. However, this is a gift for @thekraziesreside because she drew me them most amazing Kenma x Me icon and i needed to pay her back somehow!!

Shoutout to my amazing friends @deathcab4daddy​, @dymphnasprose​ and @spicykzumeknma​, who i’m sure are sick of beta reading this by now and having me freaking out about posting it. Thank you for all your grammar corrections that I will probably never learn from, I love you all

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“I-I’m a virgin.”

The words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

The large hands that had been tracing the contours of your body stilled. You had to stop yourself from flinching when his intense golden stare shot to your face.

“What…” He let the word trail off, a well-practised mask of surprise coming into place on his features.

It was second nature to him now, letting his face morph into whatever expression he needed it to at a moments notice. No one ever suspected the friendly Ace of being anything other than a good guy, and really, he wasn’t a bad guy. No, he just relished in taking the innocence of unsuspecting women who easily fell into his trap.

Like you.

“I’m a virgin, Kou.” Even though you were straddling him, you still had to look up to meet his eyes. 

With the tips of your ears burning, you moved to get off of his lap as if you could escape from your embarrassing confession. You couldn’t believe you’d openly admitted you were an inexperienced virgin to the guy you’d only just met a week ago.  A mutual friend had introduced the two of you, and you’d quickly fallen for his ‘nice guy’ act.

You hadn’t even put a foot on the floor before you were pulled back and thrown into the pillows. The weight of Bokuto’s body was quick to settle on top of you, pressing you down into the plush mattress. 

“What are y-” before you could finish your sentence, your wrists were pinned above your head, rendering your arms useless in his firm grip. The muscles in your abdomen tightened at his rough treatment, and you couldn’t stop the small gasp that fell from your lip. Turning your head to the side, you tried in vain to hide your flustered expression.

Bokuto felt his cock twitch in the grey sweats that hung low on his hips.

The innocent ones were always the most responsive. He fought off a grin as the thought crossed his mind.

“Did you really think I was going to let you get away after telling me something like that?” He growled, warm breath ghosting over your face and across your neck. He watched with a glint in his eyes as you shivered under him. 

Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Do you know what that means, little bird?”

Your heart raced at the nickname.

Could he make you sing for him?

Certain he could hear your heartbeat fluttering like a hummingbird's wings in your chest, you silently prayed for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. The mortification you felt was palpable in the space between you.

Bokuto thought it was cute how bashful you were, so unsure and unwilling to show him your real feelings, even though your body told him everything he needed to know. Still, he’d have you voicing your innermost desires sooner or later- it was only a matter of time.

“Well?” He pressed, not allowing you to dwell on your thoughts any longer. He didn’t want to have to put in too much effort to break you.

Your voice was small and unsure when you answered him, eyes looking anywhere but his direction, “No.” 

He was so close, closer than any man had ever been before. The proximity made it hard to think straight as the warmth of his body seeped into your bones, and his masculine scent invaded your senses. 

It was almost stifling.

His tongue darted out, licking a wet strip up the side of your exposed neck before pressing a soft kiss just below your ear. He felt you shiver beneath him before pulling back and watching a deep blush journey down to your chest. It was so pure...He couldn’t wait to be the one to defile your virtue.

Gently grasping your chin between his thumb and index finger, he turned your face until you had no option but to meet his simmering gaze. 

Begrudgingly, you looked up at the man looming over you and found he was already observing your flustered expression. He stared so openly and without shame that you began to squirm under him.

Bokuto saw your blush deepen further and wondered what you’d look like when he eased his cock inside your virgin hole.

Would your eyes roll into the back of your head? Would your nails imbed themselves in his back? Or maybe you’d simply cry out in pain and pleasure as he ripped through your innocence?

All kinds of scenarios whirled around in his brain, sending his mind into overdrive. 

Unconsciously, he ground the head of his cock against your clothed slit and was rewarded when he heard your sharp intake of breath. 

Heat pooled in his groin. 

It was such a pretty sound. He wanted more, and he didn’t need to feel the slick collecting in the crotch of your underwear to know your feelings mirrored his.

His smile was predatory as he answered.

“It means that I’ll be the first person to fill your tight little pussy up with cum. I’ll stretch your walls around my cock and pump you so full that it’ll be dripping out of you for days.” 

The lewd words fell from his mouth with ease, and you found yourself shifting as your body all of a sudden became too warm as if the temperature in the room had spiked, but you knew it was his words alone that had caused your reaction.

You hated how easily he affected you.

“I bet you want me to corrupt your sweet little body, don’t you?” He already knew the answer.

Your body responded of its own accord, turning into putty beneath him. Your hips rolled against his as your back arched off the bed at the feeling of his cock nudging against your clit. The knot in your stomach tightened. 

The grip on your wrists tightened. Bokuto took a few steadying breaths, struggling to hold himself back. You seemed so tiny and fragile as you lay beneath his brawny form, and he was scared he would break you if he gave in to his own desires too soon.

Maybe that’s what you wanted. The sadistic voice in the back of his mind purred. 

“I- I don’t know.” Your voice wavered as you answered him honestly. Doubt had begun to gnaw at your gut. Waiting didn’t seem like the worst idea- there was no rush, after all.

He closed his eyes for a split second to hide the annoyance that no doubt flickered through them. When he reopened them, he became the personification of a bird of prey, and you were his next meal.

Your mouth became dry as you lied entrapped by his stare.

“Come on, I can make you feel good.” As if he was digging his talons in to prevent your escape, he rolled his hips against yours once more, making sure that his cock rubbed firmly over your swelling clit. The side of his mouth quirked up when a tentative moan left your parted lips. 

“That’s it, you like that, don’t you? You want me to make you feel good, don’t you, little bird?” another roll of his hips, and he watched the doubt dissolve away for now.

“Koutarou...please.” Your voice was small, uncertain as you begged. 

You didn’t know what you were begging for, you just knew he could give it to you, whatever it was.

Golden eyes flashed at the way your voice was saturated with need. For a moment he thought that maybe you weren’t a virgin, but instead, a succubus, come to steal his soul. 

He would let you.

The weight of his body left yours, and in seconds, you were stripped of all of your clothing, which was thrown haphazardly around the room. His soon followed.

Eager eyes drank in the sight of your naked body before him. Your skin was so beautiful and unmarred by another person, so enticing and begging for his touch. Soon you would be littered in his marks as he lay claim to your body, inside and out.

Growing self-conscious under his prolonged stare, you tried in vain to cover your most intimate parts.

“There’s no use trying to hide from me. I’m going to become well-acquainted with your body by the time I’m done with you.”

A gasp escaped your lips when his fingers reached down and ghosted over your folds. A groan left him when he felt just how wet you were.

“Well, looks like someone’s already dripping at the thought of being ruined by my cock- isn’t that cute?” Though his tone was mocking, his words still sent excitement trickling down your spine.

Spreading your lips, he circled a thick finger around your twitching entrance, smiling devilishly when you whined for him. Through heavy-lidded eyes, he witnessed your jaw go slack as he eased the first finger past the slick opening, surprised when he was met with little resistance. 

Soon he was able to work himself knuckle-deep, and your walls fluttered around him in welcome.

Such a slutty pussy for someone so untouched. 

“You’re so tight, baby. Your pussy’s sucking my finger in so nicely; I bet you’re going to feel amazing when I stuff my cock inside.”

You groaned as his fingers started to move within your previously untainted walls. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling like you’d feared it would be- it was almost like a welcoming pressure had settled deep within you. 

“Kou… more.” 

A chuckle met your ears in line with his warm lips brushing against your pubic bone, “Your wish is my command.”

When the second finger was added, the discomfort became evident on your face. He didn’t pause his movements; instead, their pace increased as pain and pleasure fought for dominance at the apex of your thighs.

“That’s it, you can do it. The pain will stop soon,” At that moment he chose to curl his fingers and press them against the spongy spot deep within your sopping cunt. The pain dulled and was overshadowed by pleasure as he played with your body as if it were an instrument he was fine-tuning. 

“Ah- fuck, I-” Your breathing accelerated as the pressure in the pit of your stomach began to increase . Your hips started to buck up off the bed when his thumb joined his ministrations and began working tight circles against your clit. Sparks of excitement like nothing you’d felt before shot through your veins. Stringing thoughts together became almost impossible.

If this was what his fingers could do, you weren’t sure you’d be able to remain sane once his cock entered you.

“There it is,” he cooed, fingertips rubbing against the same spot, this time with a little more vigour, “God, you look so beautiful with my fingers inside you, you’re drenching them, baby.”

A thick fog came over your mind as they stroked and stretched your walls, creating a pressure in your abdomen that threatened to overflow at any second. It almost scared you, and yet, you couldn’t prevent your hips from desperately grinding down against his hand.

“More,” you cried, your breaths beginning to come out in pants.

The wet squelching sounds of your pussy filled the room as his hand became a blur between your thighs. The sound only added to your arousal.

When your legs began to quake, he lowered his head and added his mouth to the mix, suckling skillfully at your puffy clit. His lips were cool as they attached themselves to your heated skin, the difference in temperature causing a prolonged whine to leave you.

His tongue swirled around the sensitive nub, his fingers working your insides, coiling, stroking and stretching until the pressure that had been steadily rising in your stomach finally exploded within your body. It erupted from your core, spreading through you like wildfire.

Your hands found hair, pulling and twisting the soft locks as you came hard around his fingers. He moaned at the flash of pain in his scalp- causing his own desire to heighten. Your walls pulsed as he continued to curl his fingers against your g-spot. 

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, Kou, fuck, oh god, oh god!” Your cries of delight were music to Bokuto’s ears. It excited him so much that he couldn’t help but gently rut his hips into the mattress. His cock was painfully hard now, and precum leaked freely from his swelling tip. He needed to be inside you soon or he’d lose his mind.

Pulling his fingers from your pussy, you watched through half-lidded eyes as he brought them to his mouth and began to eagerly lap at them. 

“Koutarou…That was....” Your brain was still riding its high, unable to give you an end to your sentence.

He pulled his hand from his mouth, “I told you I’d make you feel good. Now, before I fuck your brains out, why don’t you see how good you taste?”

The musky smell of your arousal filled your nostrils as he brought his fingers to your lips.

“Open.” It wasn’t a request.

At your hesitance, he quirked a brow, “I promise you taste amazing. Now, open.”

You obeyed, still riding the endorphin high he’d pulled from your body. Because of this, you didn’t even notice that he’d reached over and pressed record on his phone that was propped up on the nightstand. He’d made sure to angle it so the camera pointed directly at your face.

He found people were much more...compliant... if he had video footage he could use against them in the event that they changed their minds.

With a grin, he placed the two fingers he’d had knuckle deep in your cunt against your tongue.

The tart taste of your release was quick to spread over your tastebuds. His eyes darkened when you began to swirl your tongue around his fingers, lightly sucking on them until they were completely clean of your arousal. 

It was so erotic that you found it hard to maintain eye contact. 

He released a shaky breath before pulling his fingers from your mouth with a satisfying ‘pop’.

“You’re a little minx, you know that?” He teased, allowing one of his hands to come to rest next to your head while the other reached between your bodies. Taking his length in his hand, he watched a mix of anticipation and fear come over your features when you looked down.

Your audible gulp was heard in the silence that followed.

You weren’t sure what you’d expected, but this was beyond anything your mind had come up with. Even though you’d never had sex before, you knew he was big. His cock was thick and heavy where it hung between his legs. Veins ran along the sides of his shaft, the largest one snaking directly down the centre before splitting in two near the swollen head. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like having something so big inside your body.

“I don’t think I can do this.” Your voice wavered, doe-eyes shining with fear as they met his.

He acknowledged your fear with a condescending sneer, “Oh, little bird, you really think you have a choice?” he nodded towards the nightstand.

The blood in your veins turned icy, and your body began to tremble as you lay eyes on the phone, screen open and recording.

Breathing became difficult as panic rose in your chest. You’d been so naive. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“It’s been recording for the last couple of minutes. Now,” his rough fingers came to rest against the sides of your throat, squeezing lightly as he brought his face just inches from yours, “you can either behave, and this will feel amazing for both of us, or you can be a brat, and the only person this is going to be fun for is me. Not to mention, I’ll send the video around to every person you know, including your boss.” 

At the mention of your boss, your whole body deflated. He had you right where he wanted you. While the thought of your friends and family seeing the video was mortifying, you couldn’t risk losing your job. Your virginity was a small price to pay to make sure the video stayed hidden.

Anger bloomed in your chest as you leered up at the spiky-haired man, but you had no fight in you. It was useless to even try.

“If I do this, you’ll make it go away?” You tried to make your voice sound confident, but it cracked at the end.

He couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto his face when he realised you were giving in, “Of course- no one else will ever see it.”

He watched the internal battle going on behind your mind before your eyes hardened.

“Fine, so be it. I’ll play your sick game.” You spat, what else did you have to lose?

Bokuto’s eyes widened when you reached down and removed his hand from his length before replacing it with your own. It was softer than you’d imagined, yet firm at the same time. Like steel encased in velvet. 

“You like the feeling of my cock, baby? It’ll feel even better when I'm balls deep inside you. You’ll be my little slut and take it all like a good girl, won’t you?”

The man above you let out a rumbling moan from deep within his chest when your fingers flexed around him, head falling against your chest. Your wavering hands felt so small as they struggled to circle his impressive girth. It again reminded him of the size difference between the two of you.

Your eyes darted between him and the phone. He took the hint and reached over, turning the phone off and laying it flat against the nightstand.

He turned back to you with a smug smirk. 

You wanted to slap the look right off his face, but violence would probably result in the video being circulated faster.

Resigning yourself to your fate, you dipped the head of the thick muscle between your folds. Your slick coated it instantly. Lining him up with your entrance, you waited for him to meet your gaze. When he did, he saw the hatred burning in them. It made his cock throb in your palm.

When he pressed his hips forward, all at once, the air left your body as heat flooded your core.

Bokuto studied your face intently, drinking in the way your pupils dilated and your mouth dropped open into a silent moan. If he could burn one image into his mind, it was your face at that moment as he stole the last remnants of your innocence from you.

“Hng-fuck...it feels...s-so-” Your hands blindly grasped at his broad shoulders, seeking some kind of anchor as the burning feeling of his cock threatening to split you open sent your mind into a frenzy.

“So what, baby?” He cooed, body tense above you. “How does it feel? Come on, little bird, use your words.”

Nails dug into his shoulder blades as he worked himself into you. Hissing out a breath, he savoured the way your lower muscles clenched around his girth before relaxing, only to repeat the motion moments later, pulling him deeper into your heated sheath.

“So full. So so full, so fucking good.” You whimpered, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. It was a fullness, unlike anything you’d ever felt before. Every nerve in your body had come to life, and a familiar heat began to pool in your lower body once again. Bokuto’s control began to slip, and he soon realised he was trembling above you in an effort to hold back. Heat was surging through his own body, clouding his mind and bringing him closer to his climax. If he didn’t move soon...

“Ah, fuck, I need…” He couldn’t finish the rest of his sentence, his mind was lost to the beast you’d unleashed inside of him. With a harsh snap of his hips, he sheathed the rest of his cock inside your wet heat.

A scream ripped from your throat as your poor cunt was suddenly filled to the brim with the Ace’s cock. His hips lay flush against yours as he bottomed out inside you, the plush head of his length kissing your cervix. He stretched your body in such a sinful way that for a second, you forgot how to breathe. 

Even though you never wanted anything to do with him and the thought of him being inside you made you feel sick, you couldn’t stop your body’s natural reaction to him.

On instinct, your legs wrapped around his hips, heels pressing against his ass. You didn’t know where your confidence had come from, and in your lust-driven craze, you didn’t care. In fact, it was almost as if a switch had been flicked in your mind. All you knew was that you craved him.

“Shit, you’re choking my cock with that sweet little pussy. Fuck.”

“Koutarou...move. Please.” You panted, cutting him off, “I need you to move, now.”

The heels of your feet dug into his ass while you simultaneously rolled your hips into his. The movement sent flares of desire straight to your core.

Bokuto didn’t need to be told twice.

The first few of his thrusts were short and practised as if he was testing whether or not your body could handle him. When he was met with mewls and whimpers, he couldn’t stop himself from picking up his pace and slamming mercilessly into your greedy pussy. 

The pressure you’d experienced before started to build once again, only this time it felt more intense, almost out of control as you writhed beneath him.

There were many ways you’d imagined losing your virginity; slow, soft, romantic sex with someone you’d known for years; gentle caresses and stolen kisses beneath a slither of moonlight as your lover whispered loving words into your ear.

This was nothing like that. 

Bokuto’s thrusts were bruising, unforgiving, and the power behind each one jolted your entire body. He was animalistic as he fucked into you.

This wasn’t love-making. This was rough, hard fucking, and you found yourself growing intoxicated as you were forced to drink in every sensation he was pulling from you. 

He’d been wrong before, you weren’t like the other girls at all. They’d all cried and begged for him to go easy. But you, you thrived on him using your body, even savoured the feeling of being fucked like a whore.

The realisation made his head spin. If you liked being fucked like a whore, he was happy to oblige.

A strangled cry echoed through the room when his teeth latched onto the sensitive skin of your nipple. His hot tongue swirled around the pebbled nub, sending bolts of desire splintering through you as the pressure inside you bubbled up and threatened to explode at any moment.

His mouth left you all too soon.

“Such a good girl. You’re taking my cock so well. Who knew a virgin could be such a dirty little slut? I bet you’re loving this, being used like a cocksleeve.” The words left his mouth in a rush as if he’d forget them if he didn’t get them out fast enough. 

Leaning back, he hooked his arms beneath your knees, still continuing his assault on your cunt. He couldn’t help but reach around and press a hand on your stomach. Desire stirred in his groin when he felt himself moving beneath his palm. 

“Fuck, that’s so hot. I’m practically in your stomach…” His words died off when he felt your walls begin to spasm.

“Kou, I’m- fuck- I’m going to cum.”

No, he wouldn’t let you cum just yet, it was too soon. He knew if he drew it out much longer, you’d be too sore for another round, but he wanted- no, he needed- to test just how far he could corrupt you.

Without thinking, he leant over your body and allowed a string of his saliva to slowly drip from his mouth. It gave you enough time to move if it was too much for you.

You didn’t move. No, instead you eagerly stuck your tongue out and waited for his spit to drip onto it, like a puppy begging for a treat.

When you swallowed it with a smirk on your face, he finally lost all semblance of control.

You weren’t entirely sure what happened next, but next thing you knew, you were stomach-down on the bed.

“Wha-”

The sound of impact as Bokuto’s hand met the supple flesh of your ass rang in your ears. You barely had time to register the searing heat blooming across your rear before he brought his hand down again on the opposite side.

“Get that fucking ass in the air.” 

Bringing your knees under you and sticking your ass out as much as you could, you waited for his next move as your orgasm began to dwindle.

Bokuto bit his lip as he watched you present yourself to him, puffy lips glistening in the dim light.

Gripping your hip with one hand, he used the other to give your ass a few slaps with his length before realigning himself with your entrance. You were so wet and stretched so well that with a harsh snap of his hips, his entire length was buried deep in you with no resistance.

“Fuck!” Your voice was hoarse as you cried out from being stuffed with his cock again.

The angle this new position set had his cock dragging along your walls, caressing them as he fucked into your heat. The new pace he set was brutal as he chased his own high.

Skin against skin became the only sound in the room as his weighty balls slapped against your clit- each time the coil in your stomach tightened.

Your body stiffened when you heard him spit, followed by the feel of moisture coming into contact at the top of your ass.

He’d been lost in his mind as he watched your puffy slit suck in his length, and when his eyes travelled up to the puckered hole just above, he couldn’t help himself.

“Don’t worry,” He spread the spit around your pucker with his thumb before gently applying pressure, “I’ll ruin this hole next time, little bird. But first, I want you to get an idea of just how good I can be to you.”

When his thumb slipped past the tight ring of muscle, your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

A sense of euphoria settled deep within you as you lay there and let the Ace pound into you with reckless abandon.

Bokuto became drunk on the cries he was sure you didn’t even realise were falling from your mouth as drool pooled beneath your cheek and turned the bedsheets a darker shade.

It wouldn’t be long now. He could feel his balls tightening as heat spread through his body. Not to mention, your legs had started to quiver with the first signs of your release.

“You ready to come for me again, baby?” His hips never faltered from the harsh pace he’d set.

“I can’t...too much...fuck.”

He found it almost endearing that you thought you had a choice. 

“Wrong answer.”

You didn’t think it was possible for him to fuck you any harder, but a last burst of energy had him pistoning his hips into you with such force that you had to reach above your head and press a shakey hand against the headboard to stop your body from jolting forward.

Your body couldn’t take much more stimulation and seconds later you cried out your release into the mattress.

Your first orgasm was nothing compared to the pure ecstasy you felt in those following moments as you came hard around the thick muscle still pumping into your aching walls.

Stars flashed across your vision as your toes curled, and your hands blindly clawed at the mattress. It was as if you’d been washed out to sea in an ocean of bliss, and you had no choice but to ride the waves crashing through you.

Bokuto’s thrust became sporadic until finally, his body went taut behind you, balls tightening as he emptied his seed into your spasming walls. 

His cum was warm as it splashed against your cervix, staining every inch of your insides with the thick fluid.

White noise rang in your ears as your body rode out its chemical high.

Bokuto pulled his thumb and cock from your holes once his balls were empty. Once removed, your body collapsed to the side, exhausted.

Bokuto’s own energy was about to run out, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from your twitching cunt. His cum had started to dribble out from between your swollen lips in a steady stream of white.

Instinct had him reaching out and pressing as much of it back into your body as he could. He ignored the weak cries that the action coaxed from your mouth as his fingers brushed against tender flesh.

He’d fucked you raw. 

You’d be sore for days after this. Hell, a dull ache had settled in his own muscles.

With a groan, he used the last of his energy to scoop your thoroughly fucked body off the bed and carry you the short distance to the bathroom. Placing you gingerly down into the toilet seat, he only let go when he was sure you weren’t going to fall face-first onto the cold tile floor.

Grabbing a small cloth, he made quick work of rubbing the musky smell of sex from your body before jumping into the shower and ridding himself of the thin layer of sweat sticking to him. The warm water felt amazing against his skin, and suddenly, tiredness came over him. All of his limbs felt heavy as if weights had been attached to them. He’d definitely been rougher than he meant to- fucking never usually took this much out of him.

You’d been so lost in your after-sex daze that he almost jumped out of his skin when you finally spoke.

“So...When can we go again?” Your voice was far more lucid than he’d expected. It seemed in your daze you’d forgotten your hatred towards him. He knew some gentle persuasion was all it would take to unlock your inner animal.

Raising a brow, he turned to see a sly smile creep onto your face as you sat naked on his toilet. 

You at least had the decency to blush at your request.

“I mean...that’s if you want to. Oh, and you’d better delete that video or I’ll rip your cock off and shove it down your throat.”

He thought you might just be a succubus after all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

THERE IT IS!! LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK<3 Likes/Reblogs/Comments are always appreciated and mean more than you realise ^.^

You can add yourself to me taglist here 

[067supremacy]

New Year Countdown W Sae-byeok.

Word Counter: 500

Trigger warnings: None, just some good old fluff!

masterlist

As the count gets closer and the hours turn to minutes, you realise that after all this time spent with your friends, the beautiful North Korean you called your best friend was acting rather strange. Very strange.

You already had a feeling that this had to do with a question you asked her not long ago. A question that involved her being your new year's kiss, but her caught off guard reaction never led to an actual answer. With two minutes remaining until the years ticked over, she made her way towards you through the smoke-filled room and sweaty bodies that lined the living space in the party your friends invited you to.

Those fucking eyes that you get lost in constantly never leave you. Under her gaze, you feel conflicted, she has intentions, but you just don't know what. She has a mission that you hadn't been informed of.

As she gets to you, the atmosphere around you is heavy and filled with something you can't quite identify. Her eyes literally stare into your entire being, making you anxious.

“Is everything okay?” You ask coyly, but the question is thrown out of the window when the countdown from ten begins. Looking around at everyone in the building makes you realise that everyone already has their chosen partner. Although with the alcohol in their system, you doubt most will remember this moment was even happening.

“Ten!”

It's only for a split second, but you notice her eyes drop down to your lips.

“Nine!”

She takes a step closer, so close that you can smell the sweet perfume from her neck.

“Eight!”

She takes hold of your right hand in hers and strokes her thumb along your knuckles in a gentle manner.

“Seven!”

You know what is about to happen, so in response to her brave gesture, you make the move to grab her other hand.

“Six!”

Her usual unpredictable aura has disappeared, and her intentions become apparent. She is no longer hard to read as she prepares herself for something that could possibly ruin a friendship. But when it came to you, she was willing to risk it all.

“Five!”

“Fuck the count,” Sae-byeok whispers in frustration as she smashes her lips onto yours. When you originally proposed the idea, you meant a quick peak on the lips. However, when you felt her tongue brush along your bottom lip, begging for entrance, you knew this wasn't just a new year's kiss. There was something much more profound behind this. Your once connected hands were now attached to one another body in ana attempt to bring each other closer.

The world around you was drowned out by the bubble of euphoria you were surrounded by. The loud cheers for the new year weren't registered until you broke apart due to a lack of oxygen. Sae-byeok avoids your eyes, but you hear her say, “I've wanted to do that for so long.” and that's the only signal you needed to pull her back into a kiss, both with smiles gracing your face.

As you break apart once more, you can't help but whisper to Sae-byeok, “I already prefer this year to the last.”

[jj-5656]

Truth or Dare

With; Stiles Stilinski

IMPORTANT A/N:I’m officially down bad folks.  But I wanted to say there’s a song I need you to play during a specific part of this story. It really only lasts a minute, and you’ll know when to play it. ALSO do not skip over this fic just because the song is by 1D I promise it’s fitting and not fangirl cringe. But this is tumblr an app practically made for that...@ me. Anyways I appreciate all the recent love on my work, and I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Teen drinking

———————————————————————

“Y/n”

“Mmm.”

“Do you have a crush on anyone?” Of course Isaac, shit-eating smirk and all would be stirring the pot. Knowing damn well you’ve made eyes at Stiles for as long as he’d known you. You stare him down with a knowing smile, taking a slow sip of your drink before answering.

“Yeah”

Stiles raises his brows in surprise at your nonchalant response. If you did have a crush, wouldn’t you have told him? All he did was rant about Lydia to you. Though, he hadn’t talked about her in a while. Seeing as his feelings for her had seemingly fizzled away earlier this year. It was odd, one day he was madly in love with the girl and the next he wasn’t. Either way, he’s surprised at the twinge of anger he feels at your words. Jealousy

The realization scares him, what was he jealous for?

“Interesting y/n/n, who’s grabbed your attention?” Isaac presses, the two of you not breaking contact as you take another challenging gulp of your drinks. A couple of the pack members exchange worried glances. The two of you always have a habit of teasingly pushing each other’s buttons, but issac seems to be pressing a little too much. As if he knows something the others don’t.

The twinging heat in Stile’s stomach ignited, burining much brighter than before as his eyes dart between the two of you. What the hell was this? When had you and Isaac become so close? Close enough to confess each other’s crushes. He grips the solo cup in hand harder, having ignored the bubbling beverage until now.

“You’re only allowed one question Isaac. And you just used it.” You counter matter of factly, leaning back into your chair simultaneously with the blonde. The others watch your interaction intently, all having noticed the tension grow.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink.” Stiles announces suddenly, weaving between the various patio chairs as the attention turns to him.

“Aren’t you driving?” Scott interjects worriedly, not letting the change in his friends demeanor go unnoticed. Stiles pauses, turning on his heel and facing the group of you with a mischievous, somewhat forced smile .

“We can sleep here. Right Lydia? Your mom said you had the cabin for the weekend?”

“Uh, yeah. I only had a few of the guest rooms prepared. But there’s definitely enough room for everyone.” She replies, tone hesitant due to the shift energy.

“Everyone down to stay the night?” Stiles inquires, practically challenging the group to say no.

“Fun!” Lydia interjects before any of you can protest “I’ll set up the rest of the rooms. It’ll be like one big sleepover! Allison, help me grab some pillows and blankets from the basement?” She pulls the raven-haired teen along before she can answer. Shooting you a ‘what the hell just happened’ look before tugging Allison past Stiles and into the house. Leaving you, Scott, Isaac, and Stiles to deal with the lingering tension.

“Back in a sec.” stiles raises his cup in a sort of salute before making his way through the sliding glass door and towards the kitchen.

“Is someone gonna tell me what I’m missing here?” Scott inquires confusedly, looking just as astonished as the girls at how odd the three of you were acting. Scott was your other best friend, and of course knew you’d been crushing on Stiles for ages. But nothing had stemmed from it until now.

“Looks like everyone knows y/n’s crushing except the one she’s crushing on.” Issac offers with a smirk. Laughing when you get out of your seat to playfully shove his head to the side.

“You’re such an ass. I’m going to check on him.” You head towards the kitchen with what little pride you have left, shooting up your middle finger behind your back when you hear the two boys having a laughing fit at something Scott mumbles.

Usually, you’re the one drinking when the lot of you hang out. Lydia and Allison sip on something most times, but of course Isaac and Scott can only do it for taste. Even then, Isaac only takes shots with you to see who won’t make a face at the bitter beverage (bastard always wins). That’s why it’s such a surprise when you walk in the kitchen to see Stiles adding a significant amount of liquor to a fresh cup of soda, eyes boring into the liquid as if it’s just insulted him. Your eyes subtly trace over the way he clenches his jaw, pushing away the butterflies you feel when you observe his veiny hands gripping the cup. Jesus you need to touch some grass

“Easy there. Trying to out-drink me Stilinski?” You push your cup towards him gingerly, putting up your hand to signal him when to stop pouring.

“Something like that.” Stiles mumbles with a tight lipped smile, taking a gulp from the cup and making an insanely dramatic grimace. Shivering and shaking his head violently at the shock of the taste.

“You’re usually not one to drink.” You let it come out as more of a question than a statement, laughing amusedly at his spurratic reactions.

“Yeah, well...” Is all he replies, shrugging before taking another sip. This time only blinking hard to withstand the flavor. Your head cocks to the side in curiosity, holding your tongue before trying to ask what’s up with him. His eyes narrow at your actions, the fiery feeling before burning once more as he takes in your cute expression. Damn you, it’s like you’re trying to get him riled up. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but whatever feelings the brunettes been harboring are starting to bubble over. He figures he’s always had eyes for you, but it wasn’t exactly a convenient time to come to the realization he’d fallen for you. It’d been a long time coming admittedly, but it’s not like he could act on it. Well, maybe he could. He shakes away the lustful thoughts when you lean against the counter beside him. Wearing one of your more revealing tops tonight. He swears you’re doing this shit on purpose.

“Ready to go back out?” You suggest with raised brows, hoping the liquor will brighten his mood. He nods, following you back through the living room and towards the back patio. Surveying the newly placed pillows and blankets beside the couch as he steps out towards the fire pit.

“You’re back, finally! Stiles, it’s your turn to ask someone.” Lydia claps her hands to get your attention. You and Stiles sitting next to each other on one of the couches amongst the undoubtably expensive outdoor furniture.

“Alright. Isaac, truth or dare?” Stiles challenges the blonde from across the fire pit. Isaac smirks, adjusting himself on the couch opposite you.

“You guys know me, I’m mostly an open book. But with they way you’re staring me down, I’ll go with truth and skip out on whatever dare you’re fantasizing about in that big brain of yours.”

Stiles scoffs with a forced smile, just slightly moving closer to you when he sees you and Isaac make what contact.

“Do you have a crush on anyone?”

“Can we do repeat questions?”

“Don’t bullshit me Lahey, answer me.” Stiles isn’t necessarily rude, but doesn’t show any signs of breaking his serious expression when Isaac raises his brows with an amused laugh. He looks over at you, before letting his eyes fall on Allison. You don’t let their intense eye contact go unnoticed, despite it only being for a split second.

“Yeah, I do.” He mutters simply, sitting back in his seat with an uncaring smile. You can tell he is in fact shitting himself internally, being one of the few people able to see through his cocky facade.

Without a juicy enough answer, Lydia begins to give a dare. “Alright Scott, truth or-”

“Can I go again?” Issac interjects, your stomach dropping when you can practically see the gears turning in that mischievous mind of his.

“Well, it’s Scott’s turn to be asked.”

“No worries, the question is for him.”

“Well, alright.” Lydia looks between you and Allison with another ‘what the hell’ expression. Neither of you can think of an answer.

“Okay Scott. Truth or dare?”

“Uh, dare. I guess.” The tanned boy replies, not as amused when the attention turns to him.

“Kiss y/n.” Stiles chokes on his drink before the rest can even react, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his flannel sheepishly when the rest of you have your eyes on him. Scott gets up from his chair reluctantly, moving towards the couch where you’re sitting and offering you a hand up. You take it with a nervous chuckle, smile brightening when the taller boy grabs the sides of you head a plants a quick peck to your forehead. Each of you giving a respectful bow and courtesy as the group claps.

“What was that?” Isaac teases, amused expression adorning his features at the cute interaction.

“You weren’t specific about it, you just said to kiss her.” Scott explains with a prideful smile, happy to have found a loophole in his dare. He’s always been like a big brother to you, even though you never let him forget you’re a month older.

“I thought it was sweet.” Allison muses, having found the interaction between her ex boyfriend and you simply cute. Of course her and Lydia never fail to point out the way you longingly stare at your sarcastic best friend just about every minute of every day.

“Thank you, thank you. We try our best.” You give another curtsy before sitting back down, tucking your legs under yourself and letting the tops of your knees lean against Stiles’ thigh. His tense shoulders seem to ease at the contact, despite wanting to shoot out across the fire pit and pumble Isaac.

“Okay Allison, truth or dare?” Lydia turns her attention to the brunnette beside her, eager to continue the game. 

“Dare.”

“Chug your drink.”

Allison groans, pursing her lips in a small pout and raising her drink to you in suggestion. Seeing as you often participate in chugging contests at Lydia’s infamous parties, you’re not one to step down from the offer. 

“Fine, I’ll be your moral support. Stiles, you wanna join?” You’re happy he’s finally trying to let loose, and you’re honestly eager to see a drunk Stiles. He leans over you to see how much liquid is in your cup and Allison’s, nodding when he observes that they all have just about the same amount. 

“Why not, don’t expect to win though.” You scoff at his cocky remark, scrambling up from your sitting position and moving over to the speaker playing some pop song quietly. 

“I need some motivation, not that this’ll be much of a challenge.” You counter playfully, confidence brightening when your three friends that aren’t participating start placing bills down to bet. With the increase of volume, you can feel the base of the music vibrate beneath your feet as you sit back down beside Stiles. 

“Ready? 3, 2 ,1 go!” You’re a bit surprised at Scott’s enthusiasm, but figure he’s just as eager as the others to win his money. Immediately, you Stiles and Allison start gulping down the bitter liquid. You open your eyes for a split second, observing how far your opponents have gotten. Stiles shoots his arm out towards you, playfully trying to knock the cup out of your hand whilst chugging. You do the same, hitting his arm away and tilting your head even farther back to finish. You’re done only a split second before the other two, who finish at the same time, grimacing not only from defeat but by the foreign bitter taste. You raise your empty cup as playful whoops erupt from the spectators. 

“That’s my girl.” Isaac cheers idly, bumping the sides of his fist with your own as he happily collects his earnings. 

“Don’t I get a percentage? I did all the work!”

“y/l/n, they don’t pay the race horses. All the money goes to the lucky better.”

“I should have put my money on you.” Scott groans, laughing when Stiles playfully shoves him.

“I was close, she cheated!” Stiles excitedly argues, and you’re glad his mood has improved since before. 

“Like hell we were, she killed us. And I for one will not be participating. I’m definitely placing a bet though.” Allison retorts, reaching into her wallet for cash. 

“Do you really want to be embarrassed again Stiles? I’m not going easy on you.” 

“Bring it on y/n/n.”

*****

“Okay, we’re officially turning in. Will you guys be okay?” Lydia yawns as she finishes, Scott and Allison getting up as well.

“What? The party was just getting st-started!” Stiles hiccups with raised arms. 

“Sti, it’s 2 in the morning. We all need to get some rest for the drive tomorrow.” Scott explains, ruffling his drunken best friends hair and chuckling when he slowly swats his hands away.

“Whatever dad. You’ll stay up with me?” Stiles turns to you with a hopeful expression, eyebrows furrowing when Scott distracts you with a kiss to the top of your head.

“You’re okay to get him to bed?” He asks whilst ignoring Stiles’ offended expression at the notion, turning to head inside when you nod. 

“I would stay, but then I’d be a third wheel so...Night!” Isaac chimes with a charming grin, dodging your attempt at hitting him and planting a quick kiss to your temple before rushing inside.You and Stiles mumble reluctant replies when the rest of the pack shouts their good-nights, their absence bumming you out.

“Lame.” You simultaneously deadpan, giggling into your cups at the jinx. The fire’s only embers by now, a chill running down your spine at the sudden,cool summer night air. 

“Mmm.” Stiles hums through the his cup, attempting to shrug off his flannel whilst holding the plastic between his teeth. “Take this, it’s cold.” You shake your head quickly, dizzying at the movement. 

“I’m fine, if I took it you’d be cold.” You giggle when he rolls his eyes, cup in his mouth slashing a little bit of liquid down his chin when he continues to try and maneuver out of the fabric. “You’re such a lightweight.”

“Am n-not!” He hiccups between words, mumbling due to the plastic still clenched between his teeth. You laugh again, shuffling across the couch to help him out of the shirt. You know he’ll only persist if you refuse again, deciding to give in to his stubborn behavior instead of arguing. You get his arm that’s closest the you out of the first sleeve, reaching across his lap to help remove the other. 

Stiles is instantly overwhelmed with the scent of that sweet perfume you’re always wearing. The heat emanating from your body disorienting him for  moment before he remembers the cup still in his mouth. You finally get his other arm free, sitting back on your legs only to meet his droopy brown eyes. He looks a little stunned, and you realize the alcohol’s made you a bit more bold than usual. His face is only inches away, close enough for you to smell the alcohol on his tongue. Slowly, he removes the cup from his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. You take a sharp intake of breath, the air between ou tingling with some sort of buzz as your eyes avert down to his now visible lips. His eyes go down too, and you’re reminded of the wrap shirt Lydia had forced you to borrow, exposing a bit more chest than you’re used to. He clears his throat shuffling mere centimetres closer to you as his hands move towards your neck. This is it, he’s finally going to-

“You’re necklace, it’s messed up.” His voice cracks as he speaks, and you try not to completely deflate when he clears his throat gain as he clumsily drags the chain so the charm is back against the soft skin between your collarbones. 

“Oh, thanks.” You internally cringe at how disappointed you sound, shrugging on the warm fabric of his flannel and leaning back against the couch.

******

You’re sitting on the counter and watching amusedly as Stiles clumsily searches the cabinets for something to eat.

“These people eat like hamsters, where’s the junk food?” He whines, exasperated from his mere 30 second search. 

“Sti?”

“Hmm?”

“Truth or drink.” He let’s out another whine at your words, giving up on his search and leaning against the counter across you expectantly. Admittedly, he’s pretty tipsy and nearing drunk, not to mention pretty pissed that he chickened out earlier. He feigns annoyance when you nibble on your thumb to think of a question, heart melting when he observes how your feet kick in the air as the dangle off the counter top. 

“Kiss marry kill. Isaac, Derek, and Scott.” He groans at your words, lips upturning to a smirk when you giggle into your cup.

“Can’t I just marry Scott, then kill Isaac and Derek?” He tries to argue but you immediately shake your head, expectant of a complete answer. “Fine. Kiss Derek, marry Scott, and kill Isaac.”

“Why Isaac?” 

“Because he’s an ass, and he wears scarves in the summer. My turn.” You roll your eyes at his words, awaiting his question. 

“Do you have a crush on Isaac?” Your eyebrows furrow in shock, shaking your head and laughing loudly at the notion. Sure, Isaac was  hot, but you’d never had that sort of feelings for each other. He was more like a brother if anything, just like Scott. Stiles seems surprised at your answer, persisting the moment you quiet down. “Then who was he talking about before?” 

“It’s actually my turn, no double questions. What were you so mad about before?” If he wanted to get personal, you might as well match the energy. He rolls his shoulders at the question, bringing the cup to his lips to hide his smile when you throw your hands up in defeat.

“Coward.” you grimace playfully, pouting when he only shrugs at your insult. 

He jumps, startled when you gasp suddenly and reach over the counter. Turning up the volume on the stereo from before you’d brought inside. ‘Wolves’ by one direction, plays much louder now that you’ve turned the notch on the device.

“Oh my god, why?” Stiles dramatically looks up to the ceiling when you hop off the counter in excitement. Of course, he recalls the first time he’d heard the song. You’d forced him and Scott to listen to it in the jeep one night, saying it was just too ironic to not make it ‘your song.’ And whether him or Scott want to admit it or not, they’d belted out the lyrics with you a few times before. 

You’re grabbing his hands before he can protest farther, rolling up the baggy sleeves of his flannel for the umpteenth time that evening as you begin to move to the opening notes, pulling him along with you. You thank the alcohol for your surge of confidence and the easy sway of your hips, grateful for the liquid courage.

“You totally love this song!” You shout over the music, too drunk to care if the others are awoken by your antics.

“Totally don’t!” Stiles retorts just as loud, laughing when you raise his arm so you can spin under it. Beginning to bob his head and mumbling the lyrics you’re currently shouting. 

In the middle of the night when the wolves come out, headed straight for your heart like a bullet in the dark. 

One by one, I gotta take them down, 

We can run and hide, ain’t going down without a fight

You both howl obnoxiously with the music, jumping and spinning as it booms through the speakers. The alcohols hitting now, effectively loosening his muscles and making the both of you laugh obnoxiously at how stupid you probably look. Despite the silliness of it all, it’s the most at ease Stiles has felt in a while. There’s a certain energy you bring, a type of way you make him feel that’s always drawn you so close.You stumble over to the stereo when the third verse comes on, grin not leaving your lips when you feel his reluctance to let go of your hand. You turn the music down, not familiar enough with the remaining verses to be able to sing it. Besides, you were lucky enough Lydia hadn’t come down there, slippers and all, to scold you both to bed. 

“That’s it? There’s more to the song!” 

“I thought you didn’t like it?” You pant out, both out breath as you move beside him to lean against the counter once more. 

“I-I don’t, just like dancing with you.” He blurts out, too intoxicated to care to filter his words. You study the spacey look in his eyes, cheeks flushed from the alcohol and exhilaration. It’s funny, a few months ago this would’ve just been any other sleepover with your best friend. But it’s different now, you can only assume he too has noticed the shift in energy between you. The electricity

“Sti?”

“Hmm?”

“Truth or dare.”

“Wh-what?” He turns to face you, brows furrowing at your hopeful eyes.

“Truth or dare.”

“We’re still doing this?”

“Just say dare!” You persist, hitting his chest in annoyance. The alcohol’s coursing through your veins, giving you too much confidence for your own good.

“Fine, dare.” He’s confused at your change in behavior, not recognizing the mischievous expression on your face.

“Kiss me.”

And that’s when Stiles Stilinski, Romeo himself, pukes into the kitchen sink.

*********

“I am not th-that drunk.” He stops mid sentences, clutching his chest and pausing to suppress a particularly violent hiccup. 

“Sure Sti, tell that to the vomit on your shirt.” You huff out, half listening to the belligerent boy towering over you as you guide him towards the bathroom. He’s gotten significantly drunker while you were cleaning the sink, all the alcohol finally catching up to his inexperienced self. And sure, the slurred words and tousled hair was cute at first, but now he was a much too heavy toddler you were practically dragging to the bathroom. 

“I wan’ sleep.” You fumble out a laugh at his childish demeanor, shuffling into the guest bathroom and flipping on the switch to illuminate the area, much to the drunk boy’s distaste as his droopy eyes adjust to the light. Admittedly, your’re also significantly intoxicated, thought process definitely a little slower than usual. Luckily, you’ve had enough experience to know when to cut yourself off. 

“You can sleep after I get you to stop reeking of vomit, now arms up.” You order sternly, heart melting when his lips puff into a small pout at your words. He does as told, lanky arms high up in the air as you hastily pull the fabric up and over his head, careful not to get the throw up anywhere else on him. You run the cotton under the sink, wreching at the smell. The things you do for your friends

When his shirt is thoroughly washed, you diligently wring it out and hang it on the rack with the hand towels beside the counter. Crouching down to inspect the cabinet under the sink for anything to clean yourselves up with. You grab a small washcloth and a spare bottle of mouthwash, placing the items on the counter and meeting Stiles’ gaze. He’s a bit zoned out, but he’s smiling sweetly down at you as he watches you work. 

“You’re like, really pretty.”

“And you totally can’t handle you’re liquor.” You retort with a roll of your eyes, pushing away the butterflies his words release. “Now swish and spit, your breath stinks.��� Without as much of a fuss, he takes the bottle and does as instructed, letting out a dramatic ‘aah’ and giggling when you meet eyes in the mirror. You follow after him, figuring that’d have to be the maximum dental hygeine for the night considering the time crunch. You grab the rag from the counter, running it under the water and lathering soap into it before lifting it towards the boy beside you. 

“Can I wash you off real quick?” You wait for his nod of approval, chuckling at the hilarity of the situation s you run the warm rag across his upper chest. “This’ll be one hell of a story.” 

“Mmm.” He only hums in response, looking down at you intently, serious expression making your head tilt to the side in question. 

“What?”

“Nothin, just sorry I didn’t kiss you.” Your movements halt at his words, continuing when you turn your attention back down to your task instead of his eyes. 

“Told you I could out drink you. Next time don’t challenge me to shots.”

“N-noted.”

******

“Shhhh!” Your eyes are wide in warning as you make your way down the hall, arms wrapped around Stiles in support as he stumbles along with you. 

“Shhh-shhh.” He mimics your actions, bringing a clumsy finger to his lips as you hold back a laugh. Finally, you set him down on the bed, turning towards the guest room dresser and tossing the sweats and t shirt Lydia must have left there to him. He groans, quickly undressing and tugging on the new clothes. Laying back down on the bed and throwing his forearm to cover his eyes as you change into Lydia’s spare shorts, figuring the shirt and flannel you still had on were sufficient enough as pjs.

You and Scott had fallen asleep during late nights at Stiles’ house numerous times whilst investigating Beacon Hills latest supernatural threat. So it’s not surprising when Stiles clumsily shuffles under the silky duvet with a satisfied sigh, lifting the covers so you can climb in next to him. It’s a queen sized bed, much bigger than the creaky twin you’ve shared before. Still, Stiles moves even closer, you’re well aware he’ll only fall asleep if he’s in the very middle of the mattress. It’s quiet, and you happily settle into the covers as sleep tugs at your eyelids. Only opening one eye when the boy beside you turns onto his side to face you.

“You know y/n, I miss when we were little. L-like when we used to dress up in our moms clothes, and then I twisted my ankle wearing my moms heels.” You chuckle fondly at his slurred retelling of the memory, images flashing by of when you were kids. He studies you, trying to commit the sweet laugh to memory before continuing. “I mean, I like where we are now. I do, because we’re still best friends and I still love you.”

“I love you too Sti.”

“N-no, no you don’t get it.” He shakes his head vigorously, drunken state dramatizing his movements as he argues. Sounding almost solemn at your response. “I mean I love you, and it’s terrifying. A pretty new revaluation might I add, so I thought getting drunk might help. Am I drunk?”

“Yes, very much so. And you should sleep before you say something-”

“No! I meas you have to know this. What if like, I never told you and then...Well I never would have told you! That’s like, Shakespeare tragedy bullshit and we’re definitely better than that. So, I love you. And not in the ‘we took baths together and played dress up in our moms clothes’ type love. It’s the ‘I’m always confused because you give me this...Weird tingly feeling and I never know how to go about it and it makes me want to kiss you’ type of love...I guess. Am I like, really drunk?” You’re to say the least stunned with his confession, though the various hiccups in between sentences didn’t call for the most romantic ambiance. 

“Yeah, you’re pretty wasted.” You smooth out his messy hair, too exhausted (and tipsy) to want to accept any of this is actually happening. 

“Sorry I didn’t kiss you. The vomiting was unrelated to you making a move on me, just so we’re clear.” He croaks out, voice rasped from the lull of oncoming slumber. 

“And here I was thinking I made you nauseous.”

“No, you do give me butterflies though. Too pretty.” He muses, chuckling when you push away his face, nose having booped yours to accentuate his point. It can’t be legal to be this cute while intoxicated.

“You gotta close your eyes Sti, have to sleep off all this alcohol.”

“M’kay. You’ll stay with me the whole night?”

“Always.”

**********

It’s fairly early when you finally wake, sunlight seeping into the room from the early morning light. You want more than anything to go back to bed, figuring another hour would help ware off the pounding headache tormenting your skull. Only assuming Stiles must feel even worse. It’s then, when you try to shuffle closer into his body warmth, that you realize the bed is empty. The space where he’s laid beside you is still warm, and you reluctantly sit up with the harsh reality that everyone else must be awake too.

You follow the scent of bacon to the kitchen, immediately met with a very grumpy looking Stiles hunched over a cup of coffee. He’s wearing Scott’s lacrosse hoodie, sunglasses covering his eyes and hood pulled over his head to shield himself from any intruding light. You sit down on the stool of the island he’s leaning against, offering a sympathetic smile when he pushes the steaming mug towards you with a grunt.

“Morning everyone!” Isaac chimes with a bright smile, slapping the two of you on the back as you simultaneously groan.

“Late night?”

“You know, I’m usually appreciative of the cheeky sarcasm Scott. But if you don’t wipe that smirk off your face right now, I will seriously consider castrating you.” You stare down the alpha, not even phasing his cheerful demeanor.

“Well before you do that, have some breakfast.” Allison only laughs when the two of you gladly pull the plates she’s placed in front you closer with a genuine murmur of ‘thank yous’. Eager to have the food soak up the alcohol and rid you of the awful hangover.

“And this is why I don’t drink.” Lydia retorts, placing down a bottle of Advil between you with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Speaking of, what was that music last night? Scared me half to death.” Allison inquires, looking to the others with a knowing smile when you and Stiles laugh through a forkful of hash browns, eyes on each other and avoiding the others. The two of you might not see it, but you’re practically married with how in sync you are. Always giving each other side eye when approached by someone you both hate, finishing each others sentences. You make a perfect pair, if only one of you had the balls to act on it.

“Flannel looks good on you y/n.” Isaac snickers, tugging on your elongated sleeve with a grin. Only more amused when you flip him off in silence. 

“You know, none of the guys I’ve hooked up with have never offered me their shirts.” Lydia pouts while pushing around the eggs on her plate, shocked when you and Stiles simultaneously choke on your (now individual) coffees. 

“We, we didn’t hook up!” Stiles defends, now unable to meet your mortified gaze. 

“Well, I know that I just mean-”

“Hold on. Am I missing something here? You two have seriously never...I mean never?” Isaac looks genuinely bewildered as he rambles on, Allison and Scott not so discreetly giggling into their mugs as the conversation continues.

“No!”

“Seriously? I’m always teasing because I figured it was all just unspoken knowledge.” The blonde’s genuinely intrigued, not noticing Lydia’s persistent signals to stop talking. “Scott, you’re telling me you can’t smell the sexual  ten-” 

“OKAY, we’ll be leaving now. Lydia, thank you for having us-”

“And thank you for the liquor we’re seriously regretting right now.” You finish the farewell for Stiles, grabbing your things and headed out the door before any of them can protest. 

“See you at home!” Scott yells out, still finding the situation between his best friends hilarious.

“And always use protect-” Isaac’s voice is cut off when Stiles slams the front door behind him, the both of you trudging towards the jeep. The boy letting out another groan and pinching his nose when you pull the door shut a little too hard, loud noise ringing in his ears.

You fumble through the glove compartment when he pulls out of the long driveway and towards the road, satisfied when you find a spare pair of sunglasses under a pile of crumpled papers.

“You keep this up and I won’t have any more clothes.”

“To be fair, you insisted I put this on.” You argue, referring to the cotton shirt wrapped around you. “How much do you remember of last night anyway?” He chuckles at your question, rubbing his hand over his jaw in contemplation.

“Geez, well there was truth or dare with everyone. They turned in early and you and I hung outside a bit longer. I was...Looking for food in the kitchen and there was dnacing? And I’m pretty sure there was a bathroom involved.”

“You may or may not have puked in Lydia’s sink.” Stiles slaps a hand over his face at your words, laughing along with you when he sees your amusement in his new-found knowledge. 

“I’m so sorry, was I a total pain?” 

Of course not! You only confessed your love to me like you were expressing a new hobby in which you now have no recollection of.

“Nah, I helped you clean up and then we went to bed. Besides, you’ve taken care of my drunk ass plenty of times.” He observes you in small glances he can get between looking at the road. You seem as though you’re holding back. 

To be honest, you were a bit frustrated. On one hand, you could just be honest with him and explain hat he’d said. But he was wasted, and it felt wrong to confess for him. Besides, if he wanted to act on his feelings he would have. And that definitely hurt, but it probably meant he had the same concerns as you. Being best friends made this shit complicated. With everything going on in this town, you had a lot of responsibilities to withhold. You couldn’t afford to lose each other. Ironically, you loved each other too much to risk starting a relationship.

“Sti, you just passed my neighborhood.”

“Yeah. It’s still early and I’m not waiting for this hangover to pass alone. We’re going to my place.”

“Star Wars and pizza?”

“Star Wars and pizza.”

*********

“I’m just saying, the amount of accidental incest in medi is actually uncanny.”

“You bring this up every time we watch A New Hope.”

“I know, but seriously!” He shuffles on his bed, pushing away the pizza box with only a few pieces of crust remaining inside. “Just like that movie you’re always making me watch. The one with the girl and her step-brother.”

“Hey! I told you, Clueless is so much better when you pretend Josh is just a family friend!”

“But we shouldn’t have to pretend it wasn’t originally written about two step siblings falling in love. I mean, what kind of trope is that?”

“Fair enough, I guess old rich white men all have a thing for their siblings.”

“Gross, I’m officially grossed out.” When your laughter settles down, Stiles starts to mess with his fingers. Looking between you and his lap as if debating with his next words.

“Listen, are you sure I didn’t...Say anything last night?” You shift uncomfortably under his gaze, figuring you could at least tell your own truth without completely exposing his.

“Stiles, we were both pretty drunk. I don’t know, I guess something could have happened?”

“How do you mean?” You’re unsettled with how awkward this has all become. But it’s not like this could keep going unsaid. It was too much of a weight to be concealing all of this from him. Stiles was the person you went to for a good vent, and you can’t really vent to your best friend about...Well, being in love with your best friend.

“I may have possibly, maybe asked you to kiss me. And you might have thrown up right after the offer.” His eyes bulge in surprise, and you cover your face with a strained cry at the confession. “It’s your fault for asking!” You whine, instantly regretting saying anything in the first place. This was dumb, you were totally dumb, and no you looked like a complete fool, all because of stupid Stiles.

“Hey.” His voice is soft when he pulls your hands down, mischievous smirk utterly confusing you. “Truth or dare?”

“You do remember! You asshole!” You shout instantly, slapping at his chest as he laughs. 

“Woah, woah wait. I may have remembered a bit more than I mentioned in the car. But how was I supposed to know you actually wanted to kiss me or if it was the tequila talking? I figured maybe if you told me the truth, then I’d know if you really meant it.” You stare at him blankly, not nearly as amused as he is.

“If it’s any consolation, you look really cute when you’re pissed at me.”

“Charming, Stilinksi. Do you happen to remember the part where your blacked out ass gave an entire monologue about how in love with me you are? And how sorry you were that you didn't kiss-” With that, he takes hod of the side of your face and connects your lips to his Finally releasing whatever tension that’s been building for agonizing months. It’s nice, really nice, but he’s not getting away that easy. You smack his chest again, fighting the urge to pull him back into you when you observe how flushed he looks. 

“Ow, stop hitting me! I had to do something, you were embarrassing me!”

“Good! I’m glad you feel a smidge of what I do, Romeo. You’re just gonna kiss me?”

“I’m sorry, should I not have? Did I totally just misread that?”

“N-no. I mean, I wanted to kiss you. But I figured the only reason you hadn’t said something sooner...Or sober, was because you were afraid of what I was afraid of. With all the shit we go through, I wouldn’t ever  want to jeopardize our friendship.” He’s silent at that, trying to find a way in which to convey his thoughts.

“Y/n, we’re a part of the pack. Nothing can break that bond. No matter what, you’re my best friend first. Whatever shit come our way next, we’ll know how to handle it together, like we always do. Besides, if I ever hurt you Scott and Isaac would make sure I never saw the light of day again.” You chuckle softly at his words, feeling a weight you hadn’t known was there lifted off your shoulders.

“I think this is the part where you ask the final truth or dare.”

“Well, I would dare you to kiss me, but you have to promise you wont puke again.”

[bakubub]

In which Racer!Kuroo is your roommate and you finally learn more about him...

Warnings: Mentions of loss of loved one, disregard for own life, swearing, innuendos and implied nsfw (but sfw overall), fem!reader with she/her pronouns.

A/N: Idek what this is. Its literally a 4.6 k mixture of fluff, angst and comfort... I rewrote this like 4 times :,) being a perfectionist is so,,, tiring.

This takes part shortly after this, you can definitely read this without reading the 'part 1' if you will, since they don't depend on one another.

Art belongs to @aikk00 ,, and yes I am still in love with it :D

I stumble out of the lecture hall, my eyes so heavy I bump into about 3 other students and mumble my apologies until I fully wake up and snap out of my daze.

Walking down the stairs and making my way to the bus stop, I watch in horror as the bus I was supposed to be in drives off, going fast for once in its damn life as if mocking me.

Inhaling sharply through my nose, I manage to keep my composure and sit down at the bus stop, telling myself the next bus will be here in a bit.

It's fine. It's fine. I slept through the lecture, and I still have to catch up on 4 subjects and make dinner, but at least the house is clean and I'm caught up in that one subject I picked up for this exact reason.

It's fine. It's going to be just fi-

The rumble of a loud engine breaks my shitty but somewhat effective self-reassurance motto and I open my eyes to see a black and red sports car going 60 km/h in a 30 zone, effectively getting mine and everyone else's attention.

I watched in horror for the second time today as this time it stopped right in front of the bus stop. No, no, no, no.

No.

Please no.

He rolls down the passenger window with that ridiculous hair and a shit-eating grin, as he nods towards the seat, revving his engine.

I look away, pretending he's not looking directly at me and that I don't live with the guy, which I immediately regretted when he beeped the fucking horn.

What did I do to deserve this humiliation?

I hastily put my head down as he beeped it again, giving up and rushing towards his insufferable car, getting into the passenger seat and slumping in my seat to keep my head down low.

"What is wrong with you? What are you even doing here?" I hiss, my glaring up at him from my awkward, folded position.

He laughs, and when I hear the sound of a photo being taken in the split second I looked away to readjust my bag, I sit up straight, watching him continue speeding as he stuffs his phone into his pocket.

"Are. You. Trying. To. Kill. Me?!" I ask, my voice little less than a screech as I slap his arm with each word.

"Ow, ow, I just came to pick my roomie up! I sensed you needed a ride, and this is the thanks I get?" he asks, that smirk I have come to hate returning to grace his features.

I glare at him, but a small, sleep-deprived part of my brain is distracted by his appearance. A tight black tee adorning his built figure, his biceps are on display as he drives with one hand, the other resting on the gear shift. The air from his rolled down window is ruffling his hair this way and that, and I find myself wanting to run my hands through the raven strands, just as I had when I washed his hair that one time...

"Wait- how the fuck did you know I didn't have a ride?" I ask incredulously, my reaction time clearly delayed but here nonetheless.

I narrow my eyes as he hesitates before he answers, "I just knew, ok? It's not like it’s astrodynamics, not that I can't figure that out too."

"Kuroo, what the hell is astrodynamics? Are you like, spying on me or something?" I ask, pretending to look out the window so as to not get distracted by his appearance once more.

"What do you common folk call it? Rocket science?" He says, once again exceeding the speed limit.

"If I'm a commoner, does that make you a peasant? Also, stop going so fast, I feel sick and I do not feel like dying today."

He rolls his eyes in response as he slows down by a smidgen, the speed meter barely even moving. "Seriously, you may have no consideration for yourself, but I still have a lot of things to achieve with my damn life so slow the fuck down." My words finally reach the rational part in him and he slows down considerably, now going within the speed limit.

Taking a deep breath, I rest my elbow on my door and look out the window, my mind flooding with thoughts about Kuroo's reckless driving and how it can all go sour with one delayed reaction.

Before I know it, we're rolling up to our apartment building, driving into his private garage only the penthouse owners get to use.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, filling the silence in the car.

"It's ok. I just... I want you to be safe. I know its hard, but... just try," I say quietly, unable to look at him.

"That's what he said," he says hastily before rushing out of the car before I can hit him.

Getting out of the vehicle myself, I send a murderous look his way and run after his retreating form.

A small part of me is grateful that he's acting like his usual unbearable self again, but the rest of me is just mad at his relentless sex jokes.

He hits the elevator button before I can get there and I watch the doors close, his smirk practically shining through the crack of the closing doors. I jam my foot in the middle at the last possible second, and smile victoriously as I get into the metal box and slap his arm once again.

"Ooh, do it harder," he practically moans, and my eyes just about pop out of their sockets in embarrassment as my face flushes a deep red.

"Oh shut up," I mutter, turning around and waiting patiently for the doors to open on the top floor. I hear him snicker and then the sound of a photo being taken, turning around sharply. I yell in defiance and throw my bag on the floor as I jump onto him in an attempt to grab his phone out of his hand and delete the probably unflattering photo.

I straddle his back and reach for the phone he easily holds out of my reach. Leaning across his shoulder in a feeble attempt to reach it, my feet are hooked around his chest and my other hand is using his shoulder as a brace. He's laughing hard at this point, and I'm screaming at him to give me the damn phone. Neither of us notice the elevator doors opening nor the small woman standing at the threshold staring at us in shock and amusement.

"Kuroo Tetsuro! You let that poor girl down this instant, young man!"

We both froze at the authoritative voice, slowly turning to look at a small dark haired woman with a straight shoulder length cut and narrow gold eyes that were glaring at the man under me.

"MUM!" He exclaims, setting me down and running to hug and kiss the woman, his mum apparently. "What are you doing here?" I hear him ask as I straighten myself out, fixing my jumper and tucking my hair behind my ears, picking up my bag off the floor and quickly following them out of the elevator.

"What, a mother needs an excuse to come visit her boys? Where's Kenma?" She asks, looking in the elevator again as if to check if she missed him.

"Oh, he's at his own place. Apparently he has a booked in session with this famous gamer today. Did he say he'd be here?" Kuroo asks, letting go of the woman and leaning on the wall.

"No, I didn't tell anyone I was coming to visit. Never mind that, who's this pretty young lady here, hmm?" She asks, raising a perfectly shaped brow as she walks towards me, the click of her heels echoing in the lobby of the penthouse.

I smiled down at her, since she was considerably shorter than even me, and introduced myself. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Kuroo." I say, bowing.

"Oh no, no, none of that. You can call me mum too, hmm?" She says, gesturing me up from my bow and pulling me down for a tight hug.

"Oh, um, actually, me and Kuroo aren't-"

"We’ll talk more comfortably inside, no? Tetsuro, is your plan to let me stand here all day?” She asks, letting me go and turning around to look at Kuroo.

Kuroo leaps into action, taking his mum's bag and unlocking the door, helping her out of her heels and leading her into the spotless penthouse.

It was all I could do to nod in response, closing the door behind us and walking down into the kitchen to prepare a meal.

It’s crazy how much I don’t know about this guy. He’d never mentioned his mother before, and briefly mentioned that he has a sister, whether older or younger I have no idea. Kenma, however, I know well. The guy was here all the time when I first started living here, but recently I've seen him less and less. Which is a shame, considering we actually got along quite well, with sharing eye rolls and bonding over our mutual love of Minecraft.

I don't notice silent footsteps following me until Kuroo's Mother says "now, why's a beautiful girl like yourself slaving away in the kitchen? Does that boy make u do all the cooking and cleaning like some mid-century housewife?"

I poke my head out of the fridge, smiling at her fair assumptions, "no, no, it's not like that at all. I actually-"

"Uh, mum! You know I'm incompetent with this stuff. This place would be a mess if she wasn't here to run things! Plus, she loves to cook and finds cleaning therapeutic. Hey, her words not mine," Kuroo quickly jumps in, putting his hands up defensively when she looks at him with a raised brow.

Looks like he doesn't want his mother to know of our little arrangement.

"Right. He's just so hopeless, I can't trust him to do anything," I add on, sending her a smile as I prepare the fish he likes.

"You're making grilled mackerel for dinner?! Oh that's gonna hit the fu- the fun spot," he says, saving himself at the last second.

I hold back a snort as I take out a pan, "open the window, fish boy. It's about to stink here and I can't be bothered with Mrs. Suzuki coming all the way upstairs just to complain about the fish smell, and then complaining that she had to come up here in the first place. God, I hope she isn't sitting on the balcony today," I ramble, trying to see her balcony from outside the window, but fail because of the private location.

Damn these amazing architects.

I hear his mum chuckle at my rambling as she begins to take out ingredients for a salad. "Oh, you don't have to help, please sit and make yourself comfortable," I say, moving towards her to take the lettuce out of her hands.

"No, no, I'd like to pitch in. Now what kind of mother-in-law would I be to let you do everything yourself?" She asks, holding the lettuce away from me and walking over to the sink.

I stare at the back of her head, a flush creeping up my neck, "m-mother-in-law?!" I ask incredulously, glancing over at Kuroo who looked suspiciously... Smug. I look away quickly when he meets my eyes, and I hastily hyper-focus on the fish in front of me, placing it on the heated pan, causing sizzling and popping to fill the awkward silence.

"I'm sorry darling, I don't mean to be overbearing. Tetsuro introduced you as his girlfriend, so I thought things were getting serious since he actually allowed us to meet one another. You see, he’s never introduced me to a girl before, so you can imagine my excitement. I can stop if you're uncomfortable-"

I cut her off, feeling even more embarrassed as I realise the role I am to play in Kuroo's life when his mother is around. I mean, it makes sense, he can't exactly just admit he took a random girl into his house.

"I, um, no really it's fine, I understand" I say, my voice small as I flip the fish.

She lets out a delighted laugh and pulls me down into a hug once more. The smile on my face is genuine as my embarrassment melts away, the bright smile of this woman comforting me.

"So, how did you guys meet?" She asks, chopping up the ingredients for her salad on the bench while I'm at the stove, Kuroo leaning on his elbows on the bench.

"At uni," I answer at the same time as Kuroo states, "at a party."

We both look at each other with wide eyes, and I clear my throat to clarify, "at a uni party. A classmate of ours hosted one and we met each other there."

"I see, so the old boozed up one night stand turned into quite a domestic relationship hmm?" she suggests, wiggling her eyebrows at Kuroo.

"What? No, no, I would never! A one night stand? Booze? Please, what kind of man do you take me for?" Kuroo complains, looking offended.

I turn around towards the stove and roll my eyes. I've heard the rumours around campus, practically every girl in my lecture hall can testify to at least making out with the man. He really puts up a façade for his mum.

I hear the doorbell ring, and quickly take the fish off the stove to go answer it as Kuroo bickers with his mother about how innocent he really is.

"Hello? Who is it?" I ask, pressing the buzzer.

"Uh, hello? Is this Tetsu's place?" A deep voice answers. I look at the camera, seeing Kenma and a bunch of men about Kuroo's age looking confused. The one who answered is a guy with a blond mohawk and piercings adorning both ears.

"Yes, just give me a second," I reply. "Kuroo, I think Kenma and the rest of your friends are here? Should I let 'em up?" I shout out.

"Yeah let 'em in," he calls back. I press another button, letting them into the lobby.

I need to make more food.

Quickly taking out my frozen dumplings I stocked up for emergency dinners for days I couldn't be bothered to make anything better, I whip up a quick sauce, thinking I could split the fish and put it in the middle of the table so everyone can take their share.

"I do apologise darling, I let my Kenma know that I came to visit and he must have told the boys. I think they've all come to see me," Kuroo's mum confesses.

"You must be a very loved woman if they came all this way to see you. And it's no worries really, I'm always prepared for guests," I say, putting her at ease.

She beams at me as the door is banged loudly.

Kuroo mutters something about “rude assholes'' as he goes to open the door, a group of tall men making their way through the threshold.

"Hiya cap'ain," the mohawk guy says, patting Kuroo on the back. A tall, light brown haired man was next to greet him, then proceeded to exclaim "MUMMA KOZUME!!" and practically jumped onto the poor woman.

Wait, did he just say Kozume? Isn't Kenma's surname Kozume?

"Hey mum," Kenma greets, kneeling down to hug Kuroo's mum.

Who's mum is this lady?! I swear to god I'm going to go crazy.

"Hello hello everyone," A massive grey haired guy says, kissing Kuroo's mum on the cheek and hugging Kuroo.

The last guy to greet them is a tan guy with a buzz cut, and he does the same as his friend before.

"So Kuroo, when di'ja get yourself a girl, huh?" The grey haired guy asks, looking offended that he didn't know before now.

I raise my eyebrows as Kuroo just smiles guiltily. He introduces me to his friends and I wave hello, as they all begin to introduce themselves.

The grey haired guy says his name is Lev and that he's half Russian. A weird detail to include but interesting I guess.

The light brown haired man introduces himself as Yaku, and says that he was Kuroo's senpai back in high school.

"Yeah a demon senpai," Kuroo mutters in reply. My smile quickly turns into a grimace as Yaku jumps on him and they both start brawling on the floor, making a loud ruckus. A loud thumping can be heard from downstairs as Mrs. Suzuki starts to lose her mind and continues to bang the handle of her broom to her ceiling.

"Ugh, you morons upset Mrs. Suzuki! She's going to talk my ear off next time I see her..." I complain, grabbing a cushion and throwing it at the boys.

They flinch at my anger and quickly get up, muttering a quick apology. My glare softens as mohawk introduces himself as Yamamoto, and the tan guy says his name is Kai whilst vigorously shaking my hand.

"It's very nice meeting all of you. Dinner will be ready in a bit so please just make yourselves comfortable," I announce, making my way back into the kitchen.

The boys, all sporting grins, make their way to the living room and sit on the couches, man-spreading and slouching all over the place, one person taking up the usual spot for two.

I sigh, focusing on the dumplings in front of me.

I stiffen as I feel large hands on my waist, and a presence behind me. Visibly relaxing once I realise it's Kuroo, I turn around, his hands still resting on my hips, and his face nestled in the crook of my neck.

"Please just go along with it. We have to act like a couple if they're going to believe us," he mutters, his hot breath causing shivers to run up my spine.

I simply nod, instinctively placing my arms around his neck and running my fingers through his hair, something I've wanted to do since that day.

He groans into my neck, and I find myself holding my breath as I continue my hand movements.

"OI LOVEBIRDS! MUM SAYS THE DUMPLINGS ARE GONNA FUCKIN' STICK! Ow! Oh, sorry," I snatched my hands back from Kuroo, pushing his chest, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

What the fuck am I doing?!

I turn around back to the stove, mixing the dumplings in the boiling water as my thoughts race.

That felt too real, too much like a real relationship.

And way too addicting, apparently, since I already miss his close proximity.

The warmth on my waist disappears as I hear Kuroo running back into the living room.

"SHUT UP YOU MORON, THE DUMPLINGS ARE FINE!" I hear him scream, and then a loud thud as he presumably tackles whoever yelled at us to the ground.

I sigh as I hear Mrs. Suzuki's muffled thuds from downstairs in record time.

"You know I'm going to have to make Mrs. Suzuki some kind of apology cake because you boys can't sit down and act like adults," I complained, my arms crossed and an unimpressed expression on my face.

Lev and Yamamoto are on the floor playing some kind of Connect 4 game I've never seen before, while Kai looks to be having a deep conversation with Kuroo's mum, who is perched on the single arm chair like the queen she is.

Kenma is hogging the tv playing some kind of video game on Kuroo's ps5 (which I've hogged on more than one occasion), and Kuroo on the other hand has Yaku in a headlock.

He immediately lets go and apologises, and so does Yaku, who even bows in his regret.

I roll my eyes and shake my head at his mum, who just laughs, and I make my way back into the kitchen, setting food on the table and calling them in to eat.

After dinner, I find myself showered in compliments and not a bite of dinner leftover for tomorrow's lunch. Damn I'm good.

I served up cake I had already prepared from earlier along with fruits I washed and set on plates, and watched as that was eaten and finished before I even sat down. Kuroo's mum scolded the boys for poor manners, and they all apologised. Well, all except Kuroo, who just wiggled his pierced brows and winked at me.

I sit down on the floor next to the couch, since it was all occupied, and hear a dissatisfied sound coming from Kuroo's mum.

"Now, now, sweetheart. You don't have to be shy around me, just go on and take your usual seat next to Tetsuro," she says, nudging her head in Kuroo's direction, where the only vacant spot was literally his lap.

I look at her with wide eyes, even Kuroo seems taken aback by her suggestion, and all the boys are immaturely ‘oohing’ loudly as they laugh and make fun of us.

Kuroo makes a gesture for me to come next to him, so I hold back my heavy sigh, try my best to hide the flush on my face, and walk towards him, awkwardly perching on his knee.

He chuckles as he grabs my waist and pulls me flush towards his chest, my butt in the corner of the couch and my legs resting diagonally over his, so that my head is directly in the crook of his neck.

I hate to say it, but this is actually really damn comfortable.

Conversation has started up again, but it becomes secondary to the beat of his heart right under my ear, and my eyes start to get heavy as his scent and warmth lull me to a comfort that is beyond being awake and alert.

---

Kuroo's POV

"What a cute girl she is, Tetsu. I'm so glad you've found her. And now that you've got her, you better. Not. Let. Go." She says, slapping me on the arm with each word of her last sentence.

What is it with women and slapping me?

"Ok, ok, I know mum, I won't stuff this up. I promise," I respond, smiling at her.

"Ok, well, I'm staying over at Kenma's house. Ah, no objections. You've already got your hands full, and I don't want to be in the way of young love. Plus, I'd rather listen to Kenma's midnight streams than you two in the middle of the night," she says, not accepting my objections and giving me a knowing look. My face warms to what she's insinuating, and I mutter a quick, "it's not like that," as I duck my head into Y/n's shoulder.

By this time the boys have all left, Kenma's downstairs waiting in his car for his mum to come, but she insisted on staying back for a few minutes to talk to me.

Y/n fell asleep a while ago now, still nestled on my lap, her head on my shoulder and her figure keeping me warm.

"I know exactly how it is, my darling. I've seen how you two act, pretending to be in a relationship just so we don't ask any uncomfortable questions. I won't meddle in your life, I never did, Tetsuro. But I will give you advice I expect you to consider. Don't let her go. Neither of you were pretending about your feelings towards each other, let me tell you that much." She says, knowingly looking at me.

I look up in alarm, which quickly morphs into a nervous laugh. She's good, I'll give her that much.

But, can Y/n really mirror my feelings?

"Ok darling, better not leave Kenma waiting any longer. I'll visit again tomorrow, or you can come over to Kenma's, whichever you prefer as long as she comes along too. I want to get to know my future daughter-in-law better!!"

With that, the woman who took me in and treated me like her own left my home.

I look down at my roommate, taking in the way her lashes are long enough to brush against her face, the way her brows are just a tad bit asymmetrical, the stroke of her nose and the bend of her cupid's bow.

I can't help but bring my hand up to caress the side of her face, content to stay here forever.

Mum would've loved her.

This thought broke the dam that held back my tears since middle school, and as they fell down my face I couldn't help but think of my own mother, coming in and hugging her, making her famous pie that I can't remember the taste of anymore. A sob racks my figure and I all of a sudden find a pair of e/c eyes staring up at me, my tears having dampened some parts of her face.

Wordlessly, she straightens herself and wraps her arms around my neck, running her fingers through the back of my head, stroking down towards my nape and up again. I cry into her shoulder, tears that I've bottled up, emotions I've ignored because I've had my dad, my grandparents and the Kozume's. Later, I even had the team, and they all followed me to the racing gig, a place where I can express my emotions through the reckless driving that could claim my life any second. I should have been grateful. Instead, the pain of her absence never ceased.

I clutch the back of her sweatshirt as I cry and cry and cry, eventually tiring myself out and running out of tears.

With dry sobs still racking my body every few minutes, she finally leans back, cupping my face in her gentle hands.

"What's the matter, Kuroo?" She whispers, looking up at me with tears shining in her own eyes. "You can tell me anything, or you can say nothing at all. Either way, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you," she says, touching her forehead to mine and closing her eyes. She stays here for a moment before moving to get up and drag me up too.

"Come on, let's get you into your pjs and into bed. It's getting late."

---

Your POV

Now in his usual shorts and singlet, I drag him to his massive bed, opening the neatly made bed and gently sit him down.

His hazel eyes follow me as I go to close the curtains, his lashes still wet from the countless tears he shed, his body still hiccupping with dry sobs.

Once I've put his blankets around him, I go to leave, muttering a goodnight as I leave.

"Y/n," I hear before I close the door. I peek my head in, "please stay."

Without a pause to think about his request, and already in my own pyjamas, I go next to him and crawl into his open arm as if I've been doing it every night, snuggling into his shoulder once more and wrapping my arm around his chest.

After a few moments of silence, he begins to speak in a raspy tone, "she's not my real mum. She's Kenma's mum, and I've... I've called her mum since I was around 7," he takes a deep breath before continuing. "I moved in with my dad and grandparents next door to the Kozumes when I was 6. I was nervous and shy back then. You wouldn't even recognise me because of the 180 turn my personality's taken. Kenma was even more social than I was. He was my first friend, and when I got him into volleyball and we met Coach Nekomata. That man inspired me to be the man I am today, and was the main reason why I joined the volleyball team in high school, and made friends with the guys. He did what my mum should've, supported me and gave me the confidence to live my life," he says, his voice cracking with the last word. I hug him tighter, knowing not to say anything as of yet.

"I just wish... I wish she didn't go. I wish she could've met you, Y/n. She would've loved you even more than Kenma's mum does," he confesses with a chuckle, sniffling and turning towards me to look me in the eyes.

"She would've seen the way I was around you. The different man I become. You make me a better person, Y/n. I find myself wanting to be better for you. I could never thank you enough for that. Please, never leave. Just stay with me, and I'll always be here for you," he says, repeating the same words I said to him earlier.

I can't help the smile from taking over my features and I lean in to kiss his nose, his eyes, his cheeks and finally I press my lips against his, something I have been wanting to do for a very long time.

"I will, Kuroo Tetsuro. I'll always stay with you."

A/n: So, I don't actually know if his mum passed away or if she left them, so I kind of just,, did both ?

Taglist: @3daa & @itsgiorgiaz

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

[yanderenightmare]

bitchy bratty catty pretty-girl who gives fuck-all, the school tries to straighten her ways by introducing her to a temporary captured shiggy, who is soooo fucking pissed off at this smug pretty bitch, going to track her down and make her pay!!!! >-< plez Mizz Nightmare

yandere kidnapper ! SHIGARAKI TOMURA

TIP-JAR

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, dubcon/noncon, abuse, profanity, bullying, anxiety, drugging, kidnapping, abduction

CUTTHROAT

“Wow! Right for the kill?! You’re real cutthroat.”

She wasn’t really surprised to hear that they’d caught him, and unlike many others she wasn’t surprised to hear that they’d be holding him on campus. She had full confidence in both the faculty, the promising Hero-course students, and UA’s security system, knowing damn well it could serve well as a prison not just for the students who went there, such as herself, but for the leader of the League of Villains as well.

To say she felt safe as she walked with Aizawa to meet him would be an understatement. She knew why the teacher had been tasked with taking her there, the intention being to scare her, give her a picture of what scum she would become if she continued down the path of fuck-all she was currently on. But, even though she wanted to rebel against taking any orders, she was feeling something far more superior than the will to fight back, something that trumped safety and laid waste to fear, she was feeling thrill. 

This would be a means to an end, a cure for boredom as well as a way to show once and for all that she was a hopeless cause, maybe then these obsessive heroes would leave her the fuck alone already.

“Wow, you’re really ugly! I mean, they warned me you were, but I could never’ve imagined it’d be this bad!”

She was jeering laughs at the lanky figure who towered over her, his hand wrapped tightly around her throat and his eyes spiraling in disbelief in process of understanding why what was found beneath his fingertips wasn’t turning to ash.

“Aren’t bad guys supposed to be sexy?” Her idiotic rambling only succeeded in confusing him more as she shrugged his seemingly useless normal hand away, walking to sit down on the floor, knowing it would be a while until Aizawa let her out again. “You know, to seduce and lure people into their ranks?” She looked over the meal tray he’d flipped out of her hand before seizing her throat, nothing sharp, no cutlery, no broken glass, just one measly apple. “I’m guessing you’re not in charge of recruiting. I mean… who would ever want to follow your ugly mug?”

She watched in anticipation of what remark he’d hurl her way. She’d heard he was bratty, she’d heard he was the one who could set her straight, divert her from this collision-course she’d set herself out on. Yet, his response was more than disappointing, not at all the tornado of a tantrum she had been preparing for. “You talk too much.” He didn’t even sound at all any provoked by her words, dismissing her as he slowly made to pick up the apple from the ground, checking to see if it was his quirk that was gone or if there was something else afoot, finding his answer in the ashes of the fruit.

“Come on.” She drawled, crossing her legs beneath her, keen eyes looking at him as he too sat back down to lean against the wall, looking only a fair bit of annoyed with her presence, as though she were a stain on his shirt, an inconvenience of some sorts. “You were gonna kill me!” She laughed, his red scrutinizing orbs looking to her with a sneer. “Without a thought, in cold blood, no remorse, even after I gave you food like the mutt you are, the least I can do is spit in your face!” 

He didn’t answer. Eyes still set on her where she sat planted without a single care, annoyed with how comfortable she looked, as though she were in her element, as though she was winning some sort of game, a game that wasn’t even about him as her eyes flittered to the black-glass of the window every now and again.

She clicked her tongue, beginning a new ramble. “Tell me, Shiggy.” She smiled, eyes wicked and gleaming and untamed. “That quirk of yours…”

She might have phrased it all like a question, but Shigaraki could hear it plain and simple, how her one goal was to mock him, poke at him until he burst, and not even for the sake of watching him burst, but for the sake of proving to whomever was on the other side of that glass that they couldn’t tame her. He didn’t need to know her entire story to see that much, how he was being used as a pawn to convert some meaningless pretty-girl.

“Can you control it? Or does everything you touch turn to ash no matter your desire?” It wouldn’t have been out of place if she’d licked her lips with how dripping with venom her words were. “It’s like the Midas touch, isn’t it?”

Her poetic phrasing of his deadly quirk had his eyes narrowing, but he hadn’t much time to think her wording over before she began a new escapade.

“Have you ever fucked anyone, Shiggy?” She didn’t even look at him as she asked, alerting him of what he already knew, how she had no interest in his answer, only his reaction, and the reaction his reaction would beckon from the people in the other room. 

She was trying to rile him up, prove how vicious she could be, prove how she hadn’t a single fuck to give. 

“I bet you’ve never truly touched anyone. How could you? I mean, first…” She laid down on her back with a careless roll, looking to the ceiling, ignoring him if it weren’t for the fact she was talking to him, or about him, or at him. “Who would ever want to fuck you? All those wrinkles and all those scars. You look like the onset of death.” She giggled, and he watched her tits bounce as though they were laughing at him too. “I cannot imagine anyone willingly wanting whatever you have to offer. And even if you force it on them, you’d be bound to fuck up with how much they’d struggle.” You’d think she carried a vendetta toward him, with how personal her attacks were, yet it was all given away with how little she was paying attention to him, as though she’d judged already whatever it was she found interesting and was now done with him. All she remained focused on was creating a show, to see how far she could take it before anyone came in to stop her, how much she could poke until something snapped, how much she could bend until something broke. “Just one slip of the hand and you’re left with your dick only halfway wet in a pile of dust.”

He didn’t know if she knew how correct her imagery was, he guessed she didn’t, he wanted to believe she’d show a bit more restraint then, a bit more unease, more respect. She acted as though she wasn’t trapped in a box with a notorious villain, seemingly unaware of her own stature as well as his. She was nothing but a school-girl and yet she felt comfortable enough in her safety to be lying on her back, flinging insult at the person she was locked in with.

“I don’t see how it could bother you for too long though.” Again, she had him intrigued. “I mean… pretty stupid bitches who’re only worth one fuck anyway can’t really be counted as a loss, can it?”

It was clear she didn’t view herself as one of said pretty stupid bitches, even though a pretty stupid bitch is exactly what she looked like in Shigaraki’s eyes. Perhaps that was her point exactly.

“Have you ever dusted someone who did count as a loss?” She rolled over, head propped up on her elbows, laying in her palms, her feet kicking the air behind her. “You ever fuck up so bad? Committed an irredeemable act? Something so unforgivable even you can’t forgive yourself?” Her eyes were set on him again now. “Do you think about it every day?” Her tone shifted then, to something sadistically sweet. “Does it hurt just as much now as it did then?” Her face split into a grin, eyes ablaze as she observed, searched for a breach in his composure. “What happened to mommy and daddy, Shiggy.” She singsonged, toying with him. “Were they your first victims? Did you cry? Do you still cry? Or did they deserve it?”

Her look was earnest, salacious until she rolled her eyes in boredom at his lack of response.

Sighing, she calmed back down, briefly. “I get it… You don’t want to play with me ‘cause you don’t think I’m a worthy player.” She scoffed as she looked to the side with a melodramatic drag. “You should check yourself. We keep you in a cage, give you food, have you on a leash and collar. You’re nothing but our pet!”

She giggled again, biting her tongue, gnawing on it between the rows of her teeth with her mouth open in a wide smile.

“You know… My quirk is called immunity, but it should really be called repellent.” She looked at her hands then, now kneeling in front of him. Her gaze split like lightning, snapping to look at him again, a catlike smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. “You and I aren’t that different, are we?” It looked for a second as though she were about to stand up, but the movement fell short as she instead gave way to crawl closer to him, one elegant arm followed by the other, all with the grace of a huntress, a panther easing in for the kill. “In fact… I think I’d go as far and say we’re the exact same…” His eyes didn’t deceive him, this time she did lick her lips, only now her words weren’t dripping with venom, but with some other sickly-sweet nectar. “’Cause…where I never let anyone come close, you let ‘em come close… only for them to die!”

“That’s enough.” He must have closed his eyes the second he felt her breath fan over his face, because he’d missed the time the erasure hero had walked in. “This was a waste of time.” The dark-haired man groaned, disappointed.

“Aw, really?”

She wasn’t in front of him anymore, to his surprising disappointment, though her sweet smell still lingered about him pleasantly.

“And I was just getting to the fun part…” She walked to the threshold of the cell-door, not once indicating she’d turn around and take one final look at him. “Well, anyway… tootles, pet.”

Even as she insulted him, she did it twice over by not returning his gaze.

-

She was still sleeping, she noted as her mind, though still groggy and drowsed out, became lucid enough to start thinking. She was sleeping, yet the sleep felt unsafe, as though her alarm was bound to go off any second, firmly shaking her awake and telling her time was running out for her to get to school. And if she’d slept through the alarm, a teacher was soon to come fetch her. Yet, for now she remained halfway asleep, waiting for an alarm or a knock on the door unknowing of how it would never arrive.

He wasn’t sure if it was the drug that had perhaps made some of her senses dull under the impression, for… surely she should feel that her mouth was stuffed full and made to suck on a rag, surely she should feel that her wrists were tied together behind her back, and how her thighs and legs were secured together in a frog tie, the rough rope, scratchy in texture, and how it scraped against her soft doughy skin. Perhaps he didn’t tie them tight enough. It was hard to get a good grip without accidentally dusting the ropes, but he knew the struggle was worth it, seeing her now, in all her defenseless vulnerable rightful glory.

“Not so tough now…” He taunted at her small sleeping frame. Even with her clothes still on, he knew her naked body was only a mere touch away from him. How he could spread her open without her being able to kick, only wiggle for him, like a worm on a hook. No… that imagery is too ugly to be describing her, when she’s so far from ugly. She’s more like a butterfly trapped on a pin, wings fluttering hopelessly, reduced to nothing but beauty, nothing but a little doll for him to play with, tamper and poke fun at just like how she’d done back when he was captured at UA.

He decided pro putting the blindfold on her, perhaps the product of her bullying him in the cell, her jabs at his appearance subconsciously having gotten to him despite himself wanting to dust them off like he did with everything else. Her comments were sharp, and seemed to have the same type of immunity her body had, where his ego, much like himself, hadn’t the thickest of skin. Besides, she was… so painfully out of his league.

It hardly mattered though, now that he would regain all the control.

She laid on her stomach, face mushed against the mattress. He’d removed the pillows and comforter so she’d be placed like a centerpiece on his little operating table. She looked so harmless now, so sweet, especially tied up the way she was, and with those whimpering moans that were simmering to the surface, breaching her sleep, escorted by her wiggling, her delicious tempting little wiggling, begging for Shigaraki to come introduce himself, now with the turned tables.

“Did you really think I was just gonna let it slide?” Her wiggles came to an abrupt holt, breath caught in her throat, making her choke out a curt gasp through the thickness of her makeshift gag. “Did you think you were safe? Like you were simply spitting on a grave. No ghosts coming to haunt you.” She panicked once she felt the bed dip, four fingers sharp in their venture, sweeping up her back, settling around her neck, drawing out painful sudden studded goosebumps, spreading across her skin like wildfire in a field. “Silly little slut.” She squealed at the feel of his warm breath on her cheek, unable to move away, her head halfway buried in the soft mattress, teeth sinking into the cloth in her mouth when his tongue, wet with drool, large and flat, dragged up her already teary cheek. “Boo.”

Her ears were burning, so much blood gushing and rushing and pooling in her head like a storm, she barely registered him drawing back with that maniacal giggle, where with as trademark as it were, there was no doubt where she was or who she was with. Yet, she hadn’t the time to think about it, she hadn’t the time to regret or answer questions she hadn’t even the time to ask, because as her mind was cooking up chaotic whirlwinds of fear, crippling fear despite being crippled enough already, brutal fear that her gut feeling like acid festering and mind reeling in on itself in such vehemence she felt she might just faint, give out like a light in a blizzard, she was given no time before he was talking again, pushing her even further out on the edge she found herself, stepping on her fingers one by one, with no mercy as she dangled above jagged rock that were sure to spear her like an arrow through a dove.

“You were wrong, you know.” She felt his hands trace a careful set of four fingers down the fabric of her shirt, rubbing into her spine, further pushing the breath from out of her lungs. “I’ve fucked before.” He spoke casually, though peppered in between the notes of nonchalance was found the spiked flavors of spiteful mockery, like the mean girl on campus, like how she usually talks, like how she had spoken to him. “But, what I haven’t done is played with someone’s body the way I’m gonna play with yours.” He listened to her whimper, sobs surely to soon wrack through her body, uncontrollably and thoroughly, making her gasp and choke on nothing but air and fear. “I mean, it’s only fair.” She heard the shrug in his voice, that sarcastic sigh and lightheartedness. “You fuck with me, I fuck with you.” This time he growled and she swore she would piss herself with how scared she was.

He was going to kill her, she knew it, she could feel it crawling up and down her body as though mites were hidden in her clothes. She already sensed him peeling off her skin, flaying her with her screaming. And in those seconds, those hopeless seconds, she wished for death, for it to be quick, painless, like simply snuffing out a light. She nearly prayed, squeezing her eyes shut to pray to that God or Devil she never believed in, never needed as badly as she needed them now. She wished for her heart to give out, for the right vein to pop, for a lung to collapse, anything, just for her to be dead before he had the mind to torture her to death.

“Does that sound fun, pet.” And there she broke, waterworks in full effect, no longer simple silent tears but something that had built under pressure like boiling pot of water, bubbling, soon to be blubbering incoherent sobs out into her gag, all to his vengeful amusement.

He watched her for a moment, one longer than he’d probably intended, despite not having view of her eyes, watching the blindfold wet as her eyes leaked at the complete overwhelming loss of hope, lips sucking on the gag those tears that managed to escape and run down to salt her lips.

“So pretty, aren’t you?” He accused, giving her barefoot a squeeze, making her wiggle with what mobility the bonds allowed her, looking handicapped, as though he’d disintegrated both her arms and legs when he’d simply tied them up where they would be stored safely and out of the way until he deemed it okay for her to use them again, where until then… she’d remain his little immobile toy. “Pretty little girl, all tied up.” He giggled, both amused and pleased, leaning down to tug those locks of hair that had curtained her face behind her ear, making the thin wisps at the back of her neck bristle in alarm. “All alone with the big bad ugly villain.” He bit it out with a smirk, and she swore she felt venom drop where he spit the words on her face. “Pretty girl… dressed in such pretty things.” He mused, tugging on the fabric of her silk pajama shirt, his other hand stroking a thumb over himself and his caged member, the beast behind the boxer, the one she was still so completely unaware of. “To hide her rotten core.”

He snickered some more at the notice of how ticklish she was, or perhaps it wasn’t as much a reflex but rather a violent display of her fear, how she kicked, or tried to kick her legs, once his hand with its lanky slender fingers danced a pattern on the sole of her foot.

“They won’t be of much help to you now…”

It’s was a cute display, seeing her struggle in an attempt to swat away his spidering hand, endearing, had him drooling he realized, but didn’t bother to wipe his chin, instead giving into the urge he had to touch what was so temptingly sprawled out before him.

“I bet you think of these as your armor, don’t you?”

All five of his fingers touched down on her shirt, and soon there was no shirt left to separate his dry course fingers from her warm skin. He nearly let out a gasp as he watched how she stayed in place, having not become a pyramid of ash. Her beautiful body still right there, warm glowing skin still touchable, more touchable than anything else.

“Keeping you safe from prying eyes and hands… Not my hands though.”

He could excuse how he hesitated on the fact of him wanting to enjoy himself, wretchedly and thoroughly, gorging in every moment he was gonna make her scream, but… he knew that wasn’t the reason… he was… and he hated to admit it, but… nervous. He had this gorgeous creature trapped and under his thumb and he was nervous? No matter how terrified she was and immobilized it was like she still had the power, just like she had in that prison cell.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that he’d thought about her everyday he was trapped in there. She had said she would see him later yet she never once, not once, came a second time. Why would she lie? Just to fuck with him some more? One last and lasting punch in the face? He had dreamed of it. How many times had he fantasized about doing every possible nasty thing in the book to her, teach her a lesson, make her beg, make her kneel, make her bow before him? But now, having her right there, this frail little girl who wouldn’t have the strength to fight him even without the tight rope holding her down, this little girl who despite being just that had him enthralled for months, still just as hellbent, enslaved, spellbound to make her pay… but that wasn’t it either… making her pay was only half of it, maybe even less… what he wanted, what he truly wanted, was to prove to her that he could have her wrapped around his finger despite being what ugly freak she’d made him out to be, that despite being ugly, he could have a pretty-girl like her melting.

He gave fully into his wishes then, her shorts gone with a touch, leaving her in a precious pair of cotton boxers. A sigh of reverence left him, a shudder running through him. He was expecting red lace or something exotic, something vain and narcissistic meant to enhance or simply show off just how pretty she was. He figured that was what she’d dress in, something sexy, because she had the full body that one believes go hand in hand with hot lingerie, yet… she’d chosen comfort. And why wouldn’t she? When she could make it look like the hottest item his eyes ever had the privilege of seeing.

“Fuck…” He drawled, now with a wanton whine, his hand giving himself a squeeze as his cock was beginning to strain uncomfortably inside the confines of his boxers. “Just look at you…”

He only barely dared touch her, not just out of fear of her disappearing like anything else would, but because he didn’t at all feel as though he had the right to put his hands on something so beautiful.

“You shouldn’t be allowed to wear clothes.” He stated, still in awe. “Not when they cover up this perfect body.”

She screamed into her gag as he grabbed around her waist, pulling her pliable little body up into a kneeling position, then pulling and arranging some further to have her in the same position, just over his slap this time, with his bulging cock rubbing through the fabric of his briefs up into her still clothed sex, though with both cloths a thin material she felt the abrasive ticklish friction begin to stir something in her lower abdomen despite her fear and no regard to her disgust. And now, provided with the full view of her delectable little frame, her precious tits sprung free and strutting towards him with how her arms were bent in their confinement behind her back, and perky by both the cold wind of his breath and the goosebump-giving anxiety, leveled with his face, looking eager to receive his mouth, perfect nipples for him to suck on, gnaw between the rows of his teeth.

“These perfect tits…” He licked his lips, hands kneading one mound greedily as the other held her steady. “And this…” He placed all five fingers on the fabric of her panties, turning them to ash, all five staying to touch the delicate skin of her sex, feeling her quake, such a good replacement to feeling someone disintegrate. He groaned out a curse, body sagging, slouching at the sight of her exposed bare little private, he hunched over in awe as he ran his fingers through to disappear in the slit of her precious pussy. “This perfect little pussy.”

She wiggled on his digits with a squealing whimpering sob, so alive and warm and soft he could cry with how safe he was beginning to feel, without the fear of touching just a bit too much getting in the way. Although he was feeling the slight sensation of inferiority in the light of her perfection, or maybe even because of it, he decided he’d give a little scare, perhaps as a means of tipping or evening the scales.

“You know, pretty girl…” His other hand, the one not currently preoccupied with cupping her pussy, brutally brazen for the first time, spread its fingers to stroke the dome of her ass, before curling like claws to grab a fist-full of the ample flesh, making her jump and lose balance, resulting in falling flush against his chest all with a muffled cry. Her face mushed against his collar, her wet reddened nose painting tears onto his throat, such a strange type of comfort against his scars. “I’ve never slapped anyone?” He could feel her heartbeat and how it hammered like a race-horse on the track. “Or, no, I’ve slapped plenty, but a slap from me means death, usually.” His hand ascended, wrapping around her throat, all five fingers with hungry-pressured fingertips, guiding her back off his chest to sit properly, though leaning to bite her earlobe, all to feel her rub down on his aching cock some more. “But I slap you and it means pretty marks and pretty screams, doesn’t it?”

He laughed, knowing full well that he wasn’t going to hurt her, or at least not as badly as he had given reason to think.

“Such a fucking pretty girl, aren’t you?” He trailed a path of wet open-mouthed kisses down her neck and between her breasts, gripping her waist as she recoiled back. “With pretty tits.” Breath labored, or hefty with greed and desire. “Pretty girl with a pretty pussy.” He squeezed her sides, as though getting ready to make a ragdoll of her again, pulling her into the desired position. “Let me taste you.”

Her heart hammered like a hammer hitting an anvil, as she was placed on her back, hands crushed beneath her, uncomfortably wrenching in their bonds. Her mind, stuck in its prospect, hadn’t pieced it together, despite having been stripped naked, she still hadn’t given it a thought, hadn’t dared give it a thought, but his comment made the realization coat thickly, drape her and the pressure seemed too much for her mind to take, plummeting into a free-fall. He wasn’t just going to kill her, he was going to rape her first.

Thighs easily pried open for him to settle in between, scooting back on the bed so he could lie down, lower half humping the mattress desperately, imagining having her wrapped around him, but all in good time. She shook more than writhed, seizurely beneath him, with her blushed pussy a beautiful slit so ripe for the taking, quivering at the warming breath he whispered upon the tender flesh. With his hands wrapped around each their ankle he pushed her thighs and legs up and out of the way as to not have her knee him in the head while he feasted.

He listened to her struggling to breathe, her stomach rising and falling sporadically with her sobs, untuned and painful and begging for any kindness he had to spare, he was going to give her exactly that. Kindness.

His chapped lips felt so good it was cruel, abrasive and inescapably delicious, welcomed yet unwelcome by the bucking of her hips as she squealed into her gag, falling prey to more and more hopelessness. His tongue came second, warm and wet and long and strong, sliding in between her folds only to swipe up and flick off at her clit, forcing a shudder to run all the way through her core into the tips of her toes, mind reeling.

“So cute.” He noted the sensitivity with a mocking jeer, the sound simmering on her skin. “I bet a pretty girl like you’ve never been fucked by a guy like me before.” Then his teeth were the ones to make an impact, grazing over her budding clit with how it reached out in search for stimulation, having its wish granted in such a sense forcing her toes to curl. “Come on my ugly face, pretty-girl.” She really couldn’t resist with how his words were tickling on that sensitive spot, and how intent on finding and following that spot that had her coming on done and abusing it, playing with it with his tongue and chapped lips, switching between such smooth soft yet forceful pressure and bristled rough chaffed contact, making her spasm, wanting so desperately to tug her arms loose to push his incessant face off, because she wouldn’t be able to resist it, she was going to come and make an humiliating mess on his tongue just like he wanted, the knot was going to snap and she would be screaming from the force of it.

He smirked with the taste of her essence on his tongue, giving her a couple more torturous kitty-licks that had her brutally recoiling by the oversensitivity he was abusing. It served well as an ego-boost as he was suddenly feeling the urge to take her blindfold off, make her gaze upon who had her wrapped around his finger. What more, he wanted to remove her gag, hear what she had to say to defend herself, what pathetic please she would come with to try and prevent him from going any further.

His mouth sloshed its way up her stomach, hands touching and grabbing and groping with greedy fingers onto anything and everything they got ahold of, feeling up her smooth skin and soft flesh, before having made their way to grab at the blindfold. Her eyes were petrified, blinking rapidly, especially every time his clothed cock bumped into her bare pussy, leaving strings of spit and fine silken cum to hang from between where she parted with the cotton of his pants.

She was thoroughly out of it, delirious, fear-ridden and numbed with pleasure, cotton yet swivel-eyed as he fought to be her focus. He pulled the gag out of her mouth too, wiping his chin before turning the fabric to ash, eyes looking her over all the while.

His tongue rolled over his lips. “Such a pretty face.” He gathered her face between his fingers, blunt fingertips pushing into squishy bloated cheeks. “Even prettier with those tears you fucking crybaby.” It will never get old, the feeling of nothing happening still under all his five fingers. “Even better with my handprint, don’t you think?” It was funny how she didn’t seem to pick up anything of what he was saying. “Or covered in my cum.” Her brows had scrunched so hopelessly close together, whimpers upon sniffles and whiny mewling and hiccupping panting, so pathetic and precious. “So fucking pretty.” He groaned, giving his lips a second wetting with his tongue. “Kiss me, pretty-girl.” He scrunched her lips together some more, leaving her incapable of refusing.

She tasted herself on his tongue, choking on the sweetness as he forced it like a slug down her throat. Her own tongue submissive in nature, staying beneath and out of the way of his. It was a series varying from needy whimpering moans and growls that followed from his throat, poured into her receiving mouth, giving nothing but weak whines in return. His one free hand, the other one still holding a firm grip onto her chin and cheeks, continued in its hungry exploration, grabbing with an almost childlike curious freedom, leaving painful marks in their wake, having her yelp against his willful lips, which smirk grew upon every inch of reaction she fed him, until pulling away in a haze, panting, with a new little wish he was going to have her be the star of.

“Let me fuck that pretty face.”

She hadn’t the time, nor the mind, to form any protest, reduced to mere whimpering as he pulled her back into a kneeling position, conjoined thighs and legs folded beneath and supporting her ass, still with her arms tied snuggly and unbudgingly behind her back, made to watch him fiddle with the band to his sweats, pulling them below his hips and falling to his thighs, displaying his surprisingly clean boxers and not so surprising hardness. Cock throbbing within its confines, fighting desperately to come free. His hand pulling his boxers down and, cock springing loose, slapping against his abdomen, standing long and hard, tip blushed red and angry, a bead of pre-cum spilling sweetly from his slit.

“Open up, lick it up.”

She’d been lost in taking in the sheer size of him, girth thick and threatening, looking bigger than what she could wrap her hand around, her stomach twisting in tension and unease. Too caught up in imagine it ripping her apart than realizing how he was going to fit it into her mouth first.

Her eyes widened upon the thought, lips slightly apart in horror, bottom-lip quivering. “Come on, pretty-girl.” One hand tugged on his shaft, the other gripped her face, protruding nails to sink into her jaw, prying her mouth father apart to accommodate his size.

She whined at the taste of him, arms struggling behind her back, knees shuffling wider apart to support herself as he pushed on further, fingernails still digging into her soft cheeks, making her lips pucker into a soft welcoming oval. He liked the way her brows furrowed into that beautiful look of plead that had his balls aching where they hung, soon to be pressed up against her soft skin, smothering her chin. He also enjoyed how her whimpers had turned to delicious little vibrations of his cock, drumming alongside his length, such pretty friction.

“Come on, take all of me.” He licked his lips as he urged, other hand coming to caress the back of her skull, gathering her pretty locks between his fingers, abandoning all regard to how she should be turning to nothing but dust molecules instead of being a nice warm soft wet pleasure hole for him. His usually small scrutinizing scarlet eyes turning moon-wide with lustful frenzy. Voice ragged as he clawed at her scalp to obey him, no thought to her whining in protest. “You can do better.” His tip met with the back of her throat and her whine turned more desperate, nearly a scream, but he couldn’t care, not with the memory of her talking to him like he was some pussy-bitch, he was going to show her who the bitch and who the boss was. “Such a pretty little thing with such a nasty filthy ugly fucking mouth.” He spit through grit teeth, begging to fuck the back of her throat, having her gagging on him, hopeless in search for breath. “A mouth like that is only good for one thing.” He gave a few more painfully deep ruts, having her eyes roll back at the loss of breath, before ripping loose again. “Same goes for that pussy.”

“No, no.” She scrambled on the bed, trying to get away, trying to rip free, so hopeless he should have felt bad, but couldn’t bring himself to the feeling as he sat there and laughed, eyes wild, dick prospering, hand pumping his length to the sight of her.

He followed her pathetic struggling little shame, climbing on top of her. The panic swallowed her again, forcing a overwhelmed rush of sobs to come spluttering and blubbering and screaming from her little shape caught beneath him. “Such a little slut.” His fingers were at once groping her pussy, diving between her folds to rub her slit and clit. “Still so wet, are you excited?” She turned her head away as she struggled, eyes squeezed shut. “Aw, pretending it’s not me.” He snickered. “Good luck.”

Offended, he decided against making it pleasant for her, thinking she deserved as little sympathy from him as she had showed him, but his brutal actions slowed at the feel of the pressure around his finger when he’d pushed it inside her.

“So tight.” He stated, shocked as he tried swirling the digit inside, to feel the walls giving little wiggle-room to do so. She winced as he hooked, a heavy breathy shrill type of wince, as though he was pulling a knife from her gut.

He left the finger there, much to her discomfort.

“That comment…” He started, working her tightness as much as he could, still with only one finger. “When we first met.” His other hand gathered her face again, forcing her to look at him as he leaned down, resting his forehead on hers, wanting to see those eyes as he got confirmation on his suspicion. “You said you push people away… that you were a… repellant.” Her breathing hitched as she sniveled like a little girl who scraped her knee. “Did that count for this as well?”

He hadn’t yet let the smile stretch on his face, but the chiding smirk started to grow as the answer was clearly displayed all over her face and by the telltale feeling his finger shoved inside her way too tight hole told him.

“Aww, is the pretty little girl a virgin?” He gave her no inch of regret, even with the fact clear as day. Having worked her tightness well enough to cram another bony-knuckled finger inside her, making her cry out. “Don’t worry, that pretty pussy is in good hands.”

She owed him, this way they would be even. Besides, he wasn’t making it completely miserable for her either. Her face might be telling one story of torment, but her drooling pussy was telling him something utterly different. Perhaps it was due to her amateur ability to hold on, but she was soon creaming all over his fingers, body spasming in tired bliss, eyes fluttering for a moment or two, trying to grasp what the fuck was happening. It was adorable.

“I think my little slut is ready.”

She murmured a sigh, energy spent on crying and struggling and coming twice already, all she could do was moan when his cockhead broke through her tight little weeping hole. He had to moan as well at the snug hug her pussy squeezed and seized him with, biting roughly into his bottom lip, tooth snaggling in the dip of his scar. Brows raised in bliss, scrunched in an eruption, as he sunk deeper and deeper into her tight convulsing cunt, preciously clutching around him, fluttering upon the fulfilling snug fit that had her toes cramping in their curled state, eyes zoning out, unable to focus, mouth blubbering and chewing on incoherent sentences, only capable on slurring out muddled moans and wet gasps as he fucked slowly into, lolling his hips forward carefully, holding onto the mouthwatering feeling of her warmth around him.

He pushed his thumb into her clit, which had her back arching and moan ripped from her throat before she settled down into the mattress again, welcoming the stimulation where she was crippled to preventit. “Your pretty pussy loves being taken by my disgusting cock, doesn’t it?” She could only hum and croon in reply, as he hit the very back, pushing into her cervix with a rather soft nudge, having her result to sucking on her bottom-lip, purring whines like a little kitten taking pleasure from their master. “I hear it in your pretty moans.”

He was no longer biting out the word pretty as though it were a curse or venom on his tongue. It sounded more like praise than anything, something akin to awe, pride even, smug for having it all under his thumb, burying his cock inside the word, for being the one to have reduced such a pretty thing to such a pretty mess, all for him, all by him, making her all his.

She made a shuddering gasp, moaning into his mouth as he leaned down. “Oh, is the pretty girl gonna cum all over my disgusting cock.” He cooed, all five fingers placed on her cheek when cupping it to have those gorgeous opium-blown eyes look at him when she came undone, for him to find such dangerous satisfaction in seeing her conquered beneath him, finding it to be the last push to send him off his own edge as well. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum in that pretty pussy.”

He made to have that final bone-crushing kiss, faces mushed together in a sloppy mess of wet slippery tongues and drool, moaning and groaning, inhaling each-other.

Reduced to mere gasping and panting. Cock, having for the first time felt the fulfilling pleasure of blowing inside the warm comfort of a precious goddess, feeling her gush and come all over him in the near split-second, feeling her clench and tighten around him like a vice, robbing and ringing and milking him for every drop he was worth. He gave some more pumps, pushing deep within her, felt a shudder run down the underside of his cock, overstimulated and satisfied for the first time.

Still coming down from his high, he made to take in her shape and state.

He hadn’t really fantasized she’d be so pliant after being fucked, but looking at her now, he couldn’t imagine her any other way, anything more right then her glossy sweat-slicked body spasming in aftershocks of her orgasms, laid so preciously snug against his chest, thighs visibly shaking with still small feeble stuttering moans slipping from her lips in blubbers. He wasn’t too far from the same state himself, having had only barely the mind before exhaustion rendered his limbs too heavy for moving, to untie the knots and rearrange them into something more comfortable. He decided tying her wrists together in front of her to be better, legs free but too tired and dumbed-out to struggle.

He looked at her drowsy state with a smile, betting he could make such a grateful little pet out of her, and if not, then scramble her mind through so many cruel methods, and make do with a brainless toy instead. But, looking down at that blissed-out hopeless look on her face and that dainty defenseless body he’d manipulated and forced to its knees, he couldn’t really see how any cruel methods would be needed.

It seemed to him that all she needed was cock, a couple of orgasms forced from her pent-up body, a little relief. The little brat was just a bit grouchy and grumpy because she hadn’t had her pussy played with. He could relate, he also gets frustrated when not getting his dick wet for a while. She was just begging for someone to come handle her and that’s all there was to it. Just look at her now, so sweet and spent, lying in his arms.

Come to think of it, he knew for a fact that he wouldn’t be needing to apply any harsh treatments in taming her, she just needed to be tied up and made to feel just how good being taken care of feels until she accepted it willingly. And if and when she decides on being bratty, he’ll have plenty of methods of shutting that trap right up, or in making her scream.

TIP-JAR