#notice that despite being the perfect colour to hide blood

[teddy-bear-d]

An Etho doodle for the soul

[sleepingdeath-light]

the snake charmer ; bb. snake (18+)

pairing ; snake x female!reader

warnings ; unprotected sex, slight dub-con & one night stand

word count ; 2995

note ; this was a rewrite of my first ever proper smut piece that was originally written in august of 2017. i posted this on wattpad on the piece’s 5 year anniversary and just realised that i never posted it here — so enjoy!

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

never had her cramped little isolated tent felt quite so homey as it did after evening performances in the big top. the thin fabric that made up the 'walls' may have done little to offer a sense of true privacy or keep out the cold, and her cot was terribly worn and uncomfortable, but it was a welcome reprieve from the bright lights and unrelenting noise that punctuated her performances (and it gave her the space to relax and practice privately without the stress of perfection that accompanied one's presence in front of the crowds their circus tended to draw in these days).

their tent was also where her beloved companions were housed, one of which being her mischievous main partner that had made a habit of trying to eat their ringmaster at any given opportunity — much to her, and his, open chagrin. livia, as she had so affectionately named her, had always had a penchant for the dramatic; going along with training and routine, but only for the right price, and following her numerous attempted felonies with that expression that screamed empty-headedness and a default innocence unbefitting of the would-be criminal.

"that won't work forever you know, my love," (name) scolded halfheartedly as she returned her friend to her enclosure and offered her a fresh mouse, "your crimes will catch up to you eventually — and the law isn't light on repeat offenders, i hear."

the snake, being an animal, offered no response other than a slow blink before moving to attack her prey — and promptly missing (earning a hearty laugh from the woman despite her growing exhaustion). endearing — she'd never be able to survive in the wild, but she made for a wonderfully amusing domestic companion (though one with a taste for blood and noncompliance with the law).

though her amusement was quickly cut short when she noticed a distinctive, and distinctly unfamiliar, red and white striped tail peaking out from the pile of boxes she hadn't gotten around to organising yet. a snake, certainly, but not one of hers — so with light footsteps and a honeyed voice, she approached the animal and coaxed it carefully out of its hiding place.

"hello there, darling," she began as she slowly picked it up, "hi. aren't you a beautiful creature... where did you come from, hm?" she turned it around in her hands as it comfortably wrapped itself around her forearm and rested its head on her flattened palm. "well you're certainly a domestic animal... let's go and see if we can find your owner, hm? i’m sure they're driving themselves mad looking for you." the snake stuck its tongue out and licked the tip of her thumb, causing her to laugh as she turned on her heel and made her way towards the lone exit to her space.

surely sleep could wait a short while longer, right?

————

however her plan to leave her tent was quickly turned on it's head when she ran face-first into a complete stranger at the entrance to her tent. the force of it had her stumbling backwards, equal parts confused and mortified as she went to apologise — only to be stopped in her tracks when she caught sight of just who she'd nearly toppled over.

then man before her was a peculiar sight to be sure: skin pale enough to rival the light of the moon that peered over the tents outside, smattered with random patches of lightly coloured scales that complimented his unusual complexion in a suitably unusual way; fair, silky hair that framed his face and hung over his forehead, itself seeming unusually soft and well cared for despite their obviously shared line of work; a thin silhouette with clothing that seemed to almost hang off of his semi-gaunt form, his body practically engulfed by the ocean of fabric in a way that brought a bemused smile to her face. and that wasn't even to mention the various snakes that comfortably slithered in and out of his clothes and wound themselves calmly around his body.

though, she supposed, she must have been an equally intriguing sight if his wandering gaze was anything to go by: (length) (colour) hair done up in a (comfortable/suited/sensible) (style) that complimented both her role and her clothing; (type) body silhouetted by a fitted leotard and corset, itself a deep green in colour and accented in various shades of gold and red to mimic the colouring of her beloved companions; (size) (shape) lips painted a deep red and curled upwards in a pleasant smile and (shape) (colour) eyes decorated with a thick liner and obviously raking over his form. perhaps she shouldn't be so judgmental then, she noted to herself.

upon regaining her composure, the woman politely bowed her head to the stranger and greeted him in a kind voice as she offered the friendly and now very talkative snake to him.

"good evening, sir, i take it this beauty is yours?" when he nodded politely and carefully moved her to his person, she smiled and gestured for him to enter her space. "you've clearly come quite some way — i didn't even know there were other snake charmers around — and it would be terribly rude to just send you off like that. so, would you like to come inside?" he seemed to look to his companions for answers before nodding and meeting her curious gaze.

"we'd like that," he began in a high pitched voice, "says emily."

"oh? is that her name?" when he nodded she smiled and continued in a pleasant tone. "well, my name is (name), it's a pleasure to meet you, emily and..."

"snake," he offered, this time seemingly speaking for himself this time.

"snake! how fitting," she joked lightly, ushering him inside, "would you like to hear some songs from my performance? i've been meaning to practise and it's always nice to have another likeminded performer about to give their mind."

he didn't say anything that time, but the small nod he gave was confirmation enough for her to go and retrieve her slightly beaten up pungi before taking a seat beside him on her cot.

————

lightly calloused fingertips caressed the length of the instrument, coaxing an all too familiar tune from it with a well practised ease that allowed her mind to wander — tired eyes slipping shut as she lost herself to the routine, yet heavily toned down, performance. sat with crossed legs on a thin, dirty mattress, it didn't take long for her to lose herself entirely as she went through the motions she had committed to muscle memory — swaying side-to-side to the music in time with her various reptilian companions and, unbeknownst to her in that moment, the young man that sat by her side.

the pitch and rhythm and sound were utterly entrancing, snake had realised, and he soon found himself mirroring her movements — swaying to-and-fro in a trance-like state; unable to tear his eyes away from her as his heart rate began to pick up and his mouth ran dry. he could just barely hear emily and wordsworth chatting airily amongst themselves, but he couldn't bring himself to respond even when they removed themselves from his clothes and evacuated to an unoccupied enclosure somewhere behind them.

but even as their voices faded into white noise, lost to the intoxicating, all encompassing song, he didn't give much in the way of a response — not verbally, at least, for his body was certainly responding beyond what he cared to acknowledge. it was affecting his mind and body like a drug, just as addictive and potent as if he'd ingested it rather than simply heard it: his mouth was dry and felt as though it were filled with cotton wool, leaving him with a scratchy throat and a tongue that was better suited to the work of a paperweight than its original purpose; his skin was gradually getting coated with a thin sheen of sweat and flushing deeply as his heart rate picked up under the influence of the song, a confusing mixture of arousal and embarrassment sending heat coursing through his veins; his cock was aching painfully against the confines of his work clothes, straining and throbbing in ways that left his mind racing with the unfamiliarity of just how hard it was getting.

all unfamiliar, but far from unwelcome or uncomfortable, he managed to note to himself.

and then, just as suddenly as it began, it all came to an end as the song concluded; snake regaining awareness of the world beyond her and becoming thoroughly flustered at the state she had left him in without much effort — or even realisation of the effects he had suffered. or, rather, she was unaware until she turned her head to look at him and took in his appearance once again, swallowing thickly and averting her gaze as she offered her help in a voice barely loud enough for him to hear.

"i... oh goodness," she licked her lips, a movement he couldn't help but follow with his eyes, "would you like any help with... that?"

and how could he possibly say no to such an offer, previous inhibitions be damned.

————

cautious, gentle hands find purchase on gaunt shoulders as she moves to sit on his lap in a single fluid motion - resting most of her weight on her own bent legs that rested on either side of his own. her touch was thoughtful and light, as it often was, giving him ample time to push her away or deny her before she accepted his compliance and leaned forwards to pepper featherlight kisses along the underside of his jaw; taking a slow and deliberate path from one side to the other whilst occasionally gently biting at the flushed skin and revelling in the muffled groans and gasps that escaped her quiet partner.

after a minute or so, snake finally began to move, his actions clumsy and curious yet endearing and arousing all the same in their effect on her. large hands started grasping at her body, starting with the meat of her thighs (groping and gripping them with a refreshing harshness that was too uncertain and short lived to have been intentional) before moving upwards to caress her sides — showing full appreciation for her hips, waist and breasts from their position in such a way that it coaxed low moans and whimpers from her lips.

though she quickly tired of the restrictive nature of their current position and pulled away, pecking his lips briefly before speaking up once again.

"why don't we — ah —" his hands reached up to grope her breasts, interrupting her mid sentence, "why don't we lay down? i want to see what we're doing."

and though he didn't respond verbally, he complied by shuffling back and allowing her to straddle his waist as he laid down on the tattered sheets — hissing through his teeth when she grazed his painfully hard length with her clothed cunt; a gesture she mimicked in part as she reached down with one hand to shove the thin material to one side and used the other to pull her costume down to her stomach, exposing her chest to the cool evening air.

————

she truly was a sight to behold, and he gladly took a few moments to admire everything in front of him with wide eyes and a throbbing sex: breasts heaving and slick with sweat from the rising heat of the confined tent, with hardening nipples that he couldn't help but bring to his mouth, sucking and pinching them as she moaned and keened at the sensation; pupils blown wide as she stared down at him with pure lust and want, ideas so utterly foreign to him that it sent new waves of heat careening through his body — crawling up his neck and racing down to his sex; a puffy cunt dripping with a slick that he longed to taste and ached to sink into in the same breath, the sight leaving his mouth salivating and the scent so strong and intoxicating that it left his mind racing.

and then, finally, she freed him from the confines of his trousers and guided his tip along the length of her slit, gathering plentiful slick (all the while unabashedly moaning and whining at the sensation) before bringing him to her gushing entrance and slowly sank down — taking every inch of his cock into her tight, warm heat until she finally bottomed out with her head thrown back and her palms resting on his cool chest. his hands found purchase on her hips in an almost instinctual motion as they took several moments to adjust, drawing circles into the flesh with his fingertips as he caught his breath, admiring the view of her on top of him: trembling, inhaling deeply with each breath and covered in a thin layer of sweat as she remained still for as long as she needed.

but stillness couldn't sate them forever and, after a good few moments, she finally started to move; starting off slow and cautious as she rose until only the very tip of his length was inside of her before gradually bottoming out once more — each time coaxing more bitten groans and low moans from the man beneath her. then, once she had found her footing, she became more confident in her actions and started going faster — still taking him deeply each time though being much less cautious as she sought out her release in tandem with her partner.

this obvious show of confidence and self-assuredness was enough to bring snake back to the present as he fell into a rhythm with her, his actions much sloppier and shakier than hers yet complimenting her pace in a most wonderful way that had their toes curling and their mouths falling open in unabashed bliss.

the whole thing was so perfectly imperfect in nature: one of his hands rested on her hip where it had begun, his grip harsher than he would usually allow as he partially guided her to bounce on his sex whilst the other migrated up her body to toy with her exposed tits — paying particular attention to her hardened nipples as he had before; her nails dug several half moons into the supple, pale expanse of his chest, the marks branding him in a not-entirely-unpleasant manner as the stinging pain blended with the building pleasure in his mind, the scratches and shallow cuts just another set of blemishes deemed unremarkable in the shadow of his scales; his throbbing cock stretched out her warm gummy walls with each deep thrust, brushing against her sweet spot every so often and causing more slick to pour out of her cunt and dampen the spattering of hair about the base of his length; her pace gradually getting faster and shallower as time went on, relying more on his arrhythmic upward thrusts than her own movements as the pain in her legs grew more severe and notable — but even that did not deter her from seeking her high.

intoxicating. addicting. enchanting. hypnotic.

it made his head spin in the most amazing way - he almost didn't want it to end.

————

she could feel the muscles in her abdomen constricting in an all too familiar motion; coiling tighter and tighter with each collision of his length with her g-spot, offering the promise of sweet release that left her throat dry and heart racing. so, almost mindlessly, she moved one hand between her thighs to toy with her swollen clit with trembling fingers — crying out airily at the sudden wave of pleasure and falling forward onto the man beneath her (who just barely managed to catch her as he continued to thrust into her with increasingly sloppy motions).

then, finally, she felt herself come undone entirely, falling over the precipice of her personal nirvana with a loud and incoherent cry: tears gathered at the corners of her eyes and slipped down her cheeks from the intensity of her climax as snake continued to pleasure her; a string of cusses, whimpers, whines, moans and blasphemes spilled from her lips, herself barely able to hear what she said, almost as though she were underwater; her limbs grew semi limp and trembled severely, weak and unsupported as her orgasm left her lost entirely in her own mind; her chest was heaving with the combined painful pounding of her heart and the ache of her lungs as they begged for air through the incoherent muttering of her fucked-out mind.

too much; not enough. everything hurt; she couldn't feel a thing. her mind was racing; she couldn't think of a single thing other than the feeling of him inside her, stretching her out in that addictive way.

she barely even realised when he pulled out of her to come on her stomach, only whining childishly at the loss of fullness and not acknowledging the spillage of sticky release that now coated her heated skin; too far gone to care.

when she was in her right mind she would catch her breath and use a torn part of the sheets to clean herself off; she'd turn to her partner and make sure he was okay as she readjusted her costume to make herself more presentable. she’d adopt that cheerful persona she put on for the crowd and help him come back down and offer him water and reunite him with his dear companions before watching him walk away, never expecting to see him again.

not everything needed a forever; not everything needed to be something. this was enough — but that would be a thought for when she had recovered, not yet.

[luxora]

BTS -> {University AU} -> Falling for a good girl

Requested: No

Group: BTS

Genre: Fluff. Angst. Smut

Warning: Swearing. Smoking. Drinking. Some blood. Nsfw.

A/N: Bad Boy BTS. And...uh...I apologize for the smut in advance (Hiding)

Jin

Seokjin cocked his head and grinned, his eyes taking in the details of your side profile as you continued to read from your book, not taking notice of his staring.

“I’m not your book Jinnie.” You suddenly aid, turning the page of your book without looking at him. Clearly you had taken notice of his staring, him hardly hiding it as he was doing it so blatantly. He smiled and shrugged, leaning back into the chair while still staring at you.

“Obviously not, you’re way more interesting to me than some stupid book on Shakespeare could ever be.” You immediately turned to glare at him for bashing a classic book, only to be met with a wink from him.

“Romeo and Juliet is not some stupid book, it is a classic tale filled with tragedy and romance, one where two forbidden lovers are-”

“Like you and me?” Seokjin suddenly quipped, only half-joking as he was aware of how different the two of you were and what other people’s opinions were about your and his relationship.

Seokjin hardly had the innocent reputation on campus despite his worldly visuals which he has possessed since birth. He was handsome, he obviously knew that, and he used it to his advantage in scoring all the various girls he has been involved with, and he would say they helped him quite a lot in the ‘dating’ department, though he has never been one for long-term relationships. But his use of his visuals in scoring girls ended up piling up a mountain high reputation which practically put him in the bad books, along with the fact that he was a part of the unsavory crowd on campus which consisted of the rebels of society.

But what other choice did he have? They were practically his family, they were the only ones who mattered to him, especially since his parents hardly were at home and never even knew where Seokjin was half the time, much less cared what he did in his free time. As long as he got top grades, they didn’t care about anything else. And even when he made those drop, they didn’t care about them. So much for being part of the perfect family they wanted to construct.

“We are hardly forbidden lovers Jinnie, nothing is keeping you and I apart.” You said matter-of-fact, looking at him with a scolding look which made him shrug in turn.

“Your dad hates me.” You sighed.

“He doesn’t hate you, he just...” You lingered, unsure on how to explain it to Seokjin but he already interrupted you before you could finish your sentence.

“Hates me. He’s scared I’m going to corrupt his little girl.” Seokjin said, smirking as his eyes suddenly glinted mischievously, which made you wary as he leaned in to your personal space to whisper into your ear. “Not that he is wrong. If he knew just what things you and I have done in private, he will need to have his mind completely desensitized.”

You immediately hit him in the shoulder, cheeks flushed bright red at Seokjin’s clear innuendos about your and his sex life, making him chuckle and coo at their bright colour. While Seokjin had been the first man that you had been intimate with, you have astounded yourself with just how sensual you are, as well as how fantastically imaginative you are. You have even astounded Seokjin with your ideas for the two of you, not that he was complaining. It is always the good girls who turn out to be the best ones to have in bed.

“We are in public!” You hissed, looking around at the library to see if anyone was listening in on your and Seokjin’s conversation, thankfully the other library dwellers being too far away to hear the two of you, not that Seokjin cared.

“So? That didn’t stop you last week when you and I were at-”

Seokjin was interrupted with your hand slamming over his mouth to stop him from speaking, although it hardly helped your case as Seokjin’s eyes glinted before he licked your hand, making you squeak and rip it away just as quickly and wiping off his saliva on your skirt in disgust, giving him a glare.

“That is so disgusting!” Seokjin chuckled.

“Not as disgusting when you and I-”

“Don’t...finish that sentence.” You suddenly warning, pointing at him with a threatening finger which Seokjin just glanced at before grinning. He raised his hands up in mock surrender.

“Consider it unfinished.”

You glared at him for a few moments before sighing, moving to rub your temples with your hand before you suddenly felt Seokjin’s lips on your neck, making you squeak at their sudden kiss and making you jerk away in surprise and to stare at him in astonishment. He looked completely unapologetic as he rested his arm around your chair.

“What was that for?!” You demanded, making him shrug and grin.

“Just wanted to kiss you.” he said simply, as if it was obvious. You sighed in frustration.

“Just what am I going to do with you?” Seokjin’s eyes lit up mischievously.

“Well I have quite a few ideas that we can-”

“No.” You said immediately, making him fake pout.

“Aww come on, there is a nice quite corner over there-”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on babe, let’s just-”

“You have a book to finish, and we are not leaving until you have finished it. So the sooner the do that, the sooner we can leave and do...ah...o-other stuff.”

Your scolding would have been more effective if you didn’t stutter and blush towards the end, but with the implicated promise of doing far more exciting activities was enough to make Seokjin turn back to the table to pick up the book he had to read for class. He has read at least a quarter of it, perhaps in an hour he can finish it and your could reward him like the good girl you are, and the bad boy he is behaving for his good girl. Sounds like a good plan to him.

Suga

Yoongi was the definition of a bad boy. He was a rebel, he did things he wanted to do and did not care what others thought of him. He skipped class, went out into town with his friend, drank, smoked, you name it. He was the textbook of bad news and the first thing you heard when you caught sight of him was to stay away because it would only end up with you in tears and a broken heart. Yoongi didn’t do relationships, so there was no point in hoping that you could change him, especially since he was so much of an alpha wolf who did what he wanted to do and others simply had to accept his decisions.

And yet you still found yourself drawn to him, so much so that you caught his attention and to humor himself, he decided to take you around for a spin, just to see if good girls were as good as his friends told him from their own experiences. But the only problem was that he did not expect to actually fall for you, nor for you to fall for him.

“Yoongi, why are the stars so shiny?” You asked out loud, staring up at the night sky in a haze as the smoke of the joint he he had given you drifted up into the sky. He rolled over and took a drag from his own joint before puffing out the smoke, holding his head up with an arm and gazing at you intensely.

“You tell me, you are the academic between us.” He said before taking another drag from his joint, chuckling when he saw your lips form into a pout.

“You’re an academic too...just not in the same way as me.” You finally said, raising your hand to try pinch a star out from the sky but to no avail. Yoongi chuckled against at your antics.

“If you mean not in the way which matters to people, then yeah, I am an academic too.”

Yoongi did not care about class, him hardly going to any of them as he much preferred hanging out with his friends or staying in his dorm where he kept himself up late at night coming up with his own music mixes. And of course, it was the opposite of what his parents wanted, which consisted of him completing a business degree at university and starting up his own business. But when did he ever agree to doing something like that? He never did. He wasn’t interested in getting some stupid business degree, he just wanted to make music, something which his parents did not support at all due to it ‘not being a real job’ but Yoongi just ignored them. Who were they to tell him what to do with his life? It was his life, so it was his decisions. They must just accept whatever Yoongi plans to do and deal with it.

“You’re smart Yoongi...really smart...just...misunderstood.” You mumbled, making Yoongi glance at you with thin lips.

One thing he has learnt about you is that you have a rather naive view of the world. You saw the best in people, which he would at times scold you about it because he knew that some people were just bad, really bad, and there was no good in them no matter how much you tried to search for it. But each time he scolds you, you just turn to him with an unreadable expression.

‘I saw good in you even though you like to act bad all the time.’

That is what you always tell him and he didn’t know how to respond to that. He didn’t care what people thought of him, it being very blatantly obvious due to his attitude to others. Even when you first approached him, he was uncaring of your opinion as he just viewed you as some prissy good girl who was wanting an experience with a bad boy, to experiment while you could at university. And yet it became so much more and before Yoongi realised it, you crept your way into his life and stayed form like a tick to a warm body.

“Misunderstood...more like fucked up.” Yoongi eventually answered, turning back onto his back and taking another puff from the joint and blowing hoops with the smoke with practiced ease. He suddenly felt an arm thrown across his stomach and he grunted when he suddenly felt weight on him, turning to see your head on his shoulder and staring at him with intense eyes.

“You’re not fucked up. Just misunderstood...I...I love you.” You suddenly confessed, unaware of how internally scattered he became from your words. He was not used to hearing those words being so easily said to him, especially since he could hardly be given any boyfriend rewards as he was probably one of the shittiest ones that a girl could ever get, and yet you thought otherwise. You moved to cup his cheek, your palm warm against it while you traced it with your thumb. “I’m serious...I love you...even though you think you’re fucked up.”

“Another swear word, point to me.” He suddenly quipped, smirking when you just stared at him in a daze.

The joint clearly was affecting your mind process and he figured it was enough for you as you were still relatively new to smoking joints, only practicing a few times with him in the past. He pulled your joint out of your hand and put it out before moving to cup your cheek, his own thumb tracing your cheekbone.

“I don’t get what you see me.” He stated out loud, his thoughts often escaping him whenever he was high. Not that you minded thought as you simply laid your head on his shoulder and smiled serenely.

“I see everything. Isn’t that enough?” You asked, making Yoongi stare at you intensely.

You saw way more in him than he saw in himself, and he did not get how he managed to fall for a girl who was so different from him, or rather how you have managed to stick around with him despite all the shit that he does. But he can’t imagine his life without you, not when you have practically become a permanent presence in his life that actually supports his love of music, who actually imagines him doing something with his music and not raining down on him for not attending class.

“I love you.” He stated, it being the only thing he could say that was aligned with his emotions. You just grinned widely and moved to press a kiss to his cheek.

“I love you too.”

Why? He did not know, but he liked it. Or rather he loved it. He just loved you, it was that easy. And odd. But whatever, it was what he felt and he was happy to feel it with you.

J-Hope

You jumped when you suddenly felt a arm wrap itself around your shoulder as you were exiting the building with your friends, having just finished a lecture and deciding one where to go afterwards. Hoseok grinned when you jumped and leaned down to press a kiss to your temple before glancing at your friends who were staring at him shock.

“Ladies.” He said, nodding towards them before turning back to you with a smile. “How was class.”

“It was...good. What are you doing here?” You asked, staring staring at him in surprise as usually Hoseok would meet you up front near the entrance of the university, but apparently he decided to meeting you at the building instead. Hoseok cocked his head and looked at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“I’m here to pick you up, why else would I be here?” He asked, making you flush slightly in embarrassment as you didn’t mean to make it sound like a bad thing that he came to meet you at the building, only it was out of the usual for Hoseok. But he didn’t let you think much more of it, he pressed another kiss to your forehead before turning to your friends.

“If you don’t mind, I will be taking my girlfriend now. See ya.”

Before you or your friends could say anything, Hoseok tugged you away and began to lead you towards the parking lot of the university closest to your building, Hoseok’s arm languidly draped along your shoulder as he asked you about class. You could feel other students eyes on you and Hoseok as the two of you walked, it being quite the sight since Hoseok was practically dressed in all leather while you were wearing sundress which elegantly showed off your figure. The two of you were quite literally dressed like the opposite of one another.

“Did something happen for you to decide to meet me here instead of at the entrance?” You couldn’t help but ask, still slightly rattled from Hoseok’s appearance. He once again cocked his head at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“No, but is it a problem that I’m here to pick you up instead?” He gazed at you for a few moments before glancing around the two of you, suddenly noticing the looks that the two of you were getting from everyone before turning back to you, a slightly guarded look on his face and a frown. “Are you embarrassed about being seen with me?”

Hoseok was aware that he was not the kind of guy that you took home to meet your mother. He was the bad news that your father would warn you about, and he was the heart breaker for you not to fall for as told by your friends. He was not the typical guy that you would usually go for as he was far from the neatly cut guy in a collar shirt and beige pants that would play golf on the weekends and go on coffee runs for study groups.

He was more on the wild side, one of which was surrounded by hip hop music and a dance floor. He loved music and dancing, and that was the only thing he was interested in. People always were surprised when they found out about that side of himself, since he hardly would seem like the dancer type due to the certain air that he gave off.

“No of course not! No! Its just...you usually wait for me at the entrance, I wasn’t expecting you to pick me up here.” You exclaimed, suddenly feeling really bad for making Hoseok feel slightly insecure with all the stares.

Despite his usual confident composure, you knew him beyond his facade and knew that he was actually a tender soul who needed to be taken care of, especially since he has taken care of himself for a long while. He fell for you because with how kind and patient you are, as well as how you love him unconditionally. And in return, he gave you his unconditionally love. He was a good boyfriend to you, always treating you like a princess. Despite his bad boy image, you learnt that Hoseok is actually very kind and has a golden heart, and only those who are willing to get to know him would learn that too.

“I wanted to see you sooner. I missed you. That is the only reason I have.” He said simply, making your heart flutter with his words as you knew he was being sincere with them. You smiled softly and decided to lean up and press a kiss to his cheek.

“I missed you too. I’m glad you came.” He gave you an unsure look.

“Really?” He asked, still feeling slightly insecure. You nodded and wrapped your arm around his waist as the two of you walked, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Of course. I love you.” You said, immediately making a smile appear on his face.

“I love you too.” He responded immediately, making you giggle before leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek again, only for Hoseok to move and catch you lips with his own instead. You squeaked and pulled away with pink cheeks.

“Hoseok!”

“Worth it.” He said with a wink, laughing as you only flushed pinker with immediately.

RM

Namjoon grunted as your ass slapped against his ground as you bounced on top of him, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he guided you along his length with your back pressed to his front. You were gasping each time he reentered you, and moaned loudly as you felt Namjoon hit you deeply in the spot which was making you see stars. He press his hot lips to your neck, biting at your skin before moving them to your ear.

“You ready to come baby girl?” You moaned as his husky voice, his nickname driving you wild as it was a play on with his good girl nickname that he usually gave you when the two of you were in public. He felt you tighten around him and he groaned as he sped up his thrusts from underneath you, hitting you harder then before while you kept tightening around him. “Come now. Come fucking now.”

You let out a scream when you finally did come, clenching tightly around him which only prompted his own release as he emptied himself, his arms tightly wrapping around you and keeping you in place as the two of you rode out or orgasms together, you trembling in his hold and you quite literally descended from heaven after such a prolonged session. Both of you stayed in place, panting for breath while both of your sweaty bodies simultaneously stuck to each other due to the very physical workout you both had together.

.

..

...

Then Namjoon chuckled.

He pressed a kiss to your neck, to one of the hickies he had left on your delicate skin before pulling you off of him, making you whine from the emptiness he left behind when he pulled himself out of you before placing you on his bed, pulling the covers over your naked body before pressing a kiss to you’re forehead. “Incredible as ever my good girl.”

You couldn’t help but groan at the nickname, making Namjoon chuckle as he stood up from the bed in his naked glory and looked for his underwear before pulling them back on. He then walked over to his dorm desk and ruffled through the drawers before pulling out a pack of cigarettes, taking one out of the box and lighting it with one of hi many lighters, puffing it immediately while leaning on his desk. You frowned at him.

“I thought you said you were going to stop.” You said, causing Namjoon to glance at you with a slightly sheepish smile, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth to exhale the smoke.

“Its a working progress. Besides, its not as bad as when we first met.” You still frowned at him.

“Its still a lot though.” Namjoon sighed, tapping some of the ash on the ashtray of his desk before taking another drag.

“Babe, its not something I can break in a day.”

“Still...I don’t like the smell of smoke.“ Namjoon then glanced at you with a knowing lick, the corner of his lip quirking upwards.

“Hence why I decided to try stop.”

Usually Namjoon did not allow a woman dictate his life choices, especially since they had no business to try control what did not belong to them. His life, his choices, that is the end of it. And it took becoming involved with you for him to think better on his life choices, especially since it consists of the factors which could lead to a longer life spent with you. It was honestly quite pathetic with how whipped he has become with you, especially since he has been in relationships before with girls who were more his speed, or rather, in the same league as him since they were all part of the same social circle.

But you were different. Quite obviously so as you were brought up on the better side of the tracks, unlike Namjoon which was born on the wrong side of the tracks. It was quite ironic that the two of you managed to fall in love, since the two of you were the complete opposites of each other, as well as representing the things that you both didn’t like. You hated things like smoking and drinking, and yet that is all Namjoon did when he was in the company of his friends. And Namjoon hated obnoxiousness and arrogant people, which you were in the beginning of the year when Namjoon had first met you.

The two of you hated each other in the beginning, but it took being stuck doing a project together did the two of you see the better sides of one another. You saw the intelligent side of Namjoon, the side which has always been there but people never believed he was intelligent because of his disinterest in class. And he saw your more down-to-earth side, or rather, your more caring side as he had asked about a photo he saw in your dorm which consisted of you and a few of your high school friends.

Time eventually passed and the two of you feel in love. Entirely cliche, but Namjoon doesn’t regret. Nor do you. Because somehow the two of you just compete each other, no matter with how cheesy that sounds.

Namjoon continued to smoke his cigarette, a comfortable silence hovering between the two of you before you suddenly spoke. “You look sexy when you smoke.

Namjoon grinned and put out the finished cigarette in his ash tray before turning back to you, eyes glinting as he took in your sitting up figure with the sheets covering your knees while you hugged them, hiding your beautiful chest from him.

“Oh really? What happened to it being bad for me?” You smiled at him, eyes glinting similarly as his.

“It is still bad for you. But I’m just saying that you look sexy while saying so.” Namjoon smirked before his hands traveled to his underwear and began to tug it off, freeing himself as he felt himself getting hard again while he didn’t break eye contact with you.

“Hmm, guess I should try the concept of replacing a bad habit with an alternative. Mind me using you for research?”

You obviously did not mind as you suddenly pushed off the sheets and laid down on the bed, parting your legs for him and looking at him with dark hooded eyes and a sultry smile which was positively sinful on a good girl like you.

“Be my guest.”

And he made sure to overstay his welcome with your body for his research.

Jimin

Alcohol was not really something that you liked to have, especially since you knew just how rowdy and irresponsible it made people when they drank it in large amounts. You also found it a waste of time and money, as one could always do better things with money than to spend it on a multitude of alcohol and waste it all away at a party where there was no care if the glasses were smashed or the liquid was spilled.

And yet here you were, getting into a drinking match with one of Jimin’s friends while he was cheering for you on the side.

“Come on Y/N, you’ve got this!” He cheered, smiling widely at you before he glanced at his friend who was halfway finished with downing their drinking. “Open your gullet! It will go down faster! Come on, go go go!”

Jimin’s friends were hardly the kind you would associate yet, much less that your family and friends would approve of as they would be labeled as ‘the unsavory types’ by them, mainly due to their love of motorcycles, smoking, and partying. But you were drawn to them, or rather to Jimin who stood out the most to you as he eyed with you the most delightful eye smile which was just too innocent for someone who was a part of the said ‘unsavory’ group.

But you have learned that Jimin and his friends were more than the ‘reputations’ that they had on campus. Yes, most of them were rather rough around the edges and were rebels of note, but they all did have kind heart. Well, most of them. And Jimin had the kindest heart of all. He showed you the gentler side of himself, and he shared his thoughts and feelings with you which he would never share with his friends as he knew that he would not be taken seriously by them or simply get teased for them.

He was different with you, or rather you saw the true side of him which wasn’t labelled due to his leather jacket. And now here you were, sitting in his dorm room with his friends about to win a drinking competition despite being a complete newbie to drinking. You slammed your glass down and covered your mouth to prevent yourself from burping before you patted the table to signify your completion of you drink, making Jimin and the others cheer.

“That’s my girl!” Jimin exclaimed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your cheek before turning to his friend with a smirk. “She totally kicked your ass!”

“S-She cheated!” His friend slurred, alcohol dribbling from their mouth as they protested, making Jimin scoff and roll his eyes.

“How the hell do you cheat in drinking? Nah, she kicked your ass at drinking, just accept it.” His friend flashed him the middle finger which Jimin returned before he turned back to you and grinned. He moved to grip you by the jaw and turn your head around to face him before pressing his lips to yours, kissing you passionately for a few seconds before pulling away, tasting the alcohol which you had just downed. “Hot damn you’re sexy.”

“I...I think I’m drunk.” You uttered, feeling a hot buzz in your head as you pressed the back of your hand to your head. Jimin laughed and took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Not drunk yet babe. Just tipsy. Believe me, I will tell you when you are drunk.” he assured, making you look at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“But...I am drunk.” Jimin shook his head again with a smile.

“Nah babe, just tipsy.”

You opened your mouth to protest again but Jimin interrupted you with another kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips this time to get a real taste of the alcohol you drank, as well as the natural taste of your mouth which was cool and wet. He pulled you closer to him with his arm around your shoulders, your own arms moving to wrap around his waist as the two of you sat on the couch.

“Get a bloody room!” One of his friends jeered, throwing an empty plastic cup at the two of you which hit Jimin on the head. Jimin pulled away to grab the cup and throw it back at them with a glare.

“I’m in one!”

“We are in this room! We don’t want to see the two of you swapping spit in front of us!”

“Then leave! I can kiss my girlfriend whenever I want!” Jimin growled, making you giggle despite the buzz in your head becoming more prominent. Jimin’s friend scoffed before pouring themselves another drink with the plastic cup that Jimin threw back to them.

“You can kiss your girlfriend, but she can’t drink me under the table. She got lucky once, she won’t get lucky twice.”

It was an obvious baiting for you, and Jimin in a way, but since you were already feeling the influences of alcohol, you saw no reason of not adding more to it. Thanks to your new liquid courage, you straightened up in Jimin’s hold and turned to glare at his friends.

“I...can totally...drink you under the table.” You slurred, making Jimin’s friend raise their eyebrow with a smirk.

“Oh really?” They mocked, holding out the plastic cup now filled to the brim with another alcoholic concoction. You nodded confidently before reaching for the cup and bringing it back to you, raised and ready to start drinking.

“Definitely!” You announced, making Jimin chuckle and squeezed your shoulders in support as his friend got their own cup and sat down in the previous seat where your other opponent was setting.

“Your funeral. Jimin count us down.” Jimin grinned before glancing at the two of you before raising his hand for the countdown.

“3...2...1...drink!”

And despite being tipsy/drunk, you still managed to win, earning more cheering from Jimin and more acceptance from his friends as they began to see you more than the goody-goody who previously looked down on them.

V

Taehyung was only gone for a few minutes to get you a new drink to only realize that someone was trying to move in on his girl while he was gone, thinking that it would be okay to try their luck with Taehyung out the picture. And while Taehyung may have been fine with it in the past, this time it was different because the girl he was with was you and he was not going to share you with anyone. You weren’t some passing prize cow to be shared among others. You were his and only his and he was going to make sure everyone knew that.

He tossed your intended drink aside, uncaring that its contents ending all covering the entire front of a girl’s dress, and pushed his way through the crowd before he finally was near you and your apparent suitor and roughly grabbed them by the collar of their shirt. “Just who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

“Tae!” You exclaimed, him coming out of nowhere and now pressing his face close to the person who was attempting to get you to dance with them or step away for more privacy, not that you were going to as you were waiting patiently for Taehyung to return. Taehyung growled and began to aggressively shake them by the collar, anger and protectiveness filling him. The person immediately grabbed at Taehyung’s wrist to get him to let go, but to no avail.

“Taehyung chill-”

“Why the fuck would I chill when you’re trying to make a move on my girl? Just what the hell do you take me for?” He growled, shaking them more roughly this time.

“You’ve never bothered before! I was just-”

“Well I bother now. She is fucking mine and if you even try make a move on her again, I will bash your face in.” He then shoved them away from him before turning to you and grabbing you by the arm. “Let’s get out of here.”

Now usually one would think that after being threatened by an angry Taehyung, they would back down, but clearly not in this case as the person scoffed behind the two of you and glared.

“Never thought that the Kim Taehyung would become soft over a girl. Guess you’ve lost your edge.” They mocked, knowing that their words would trigger Taehyung. And they did.

Taehyung whirled around, the idea of him becoming soft just infuriating and he was ready to prove that he has not lost his edge by beating them to a pulp when you suddenly clung to his arm, stopping him in his tracks while looking at him pleadingly.

“Please Tae, don’t do it. Be the bigger man.” You begged, only to have the other person scoff.

“The bigger man? Stay out of this sweetheart, you clearly have no idea just what kind of man Taehyung is.”

“Don’t you dare call her sweetheart.” Taehyung growled, glaring at them with threatening eyes as he was tense on the spot, not moving forward to start a fight, but not moving backward to retreat. His mind was buzzing in indecision and the only thing he was aware of was your hands tightening around his arm to keep in in place.

“Please Tae, lets just go home. I want to get out of here.”

The standoff between Taehyung and the person was getting noticed by the others at the party and a circle was beginning to get formed around them, the other party-goers chanting ‘fight, fight, fight’ to encourage a brawl between the two of them, but that was the last thing that you wanted. Coming to the party was the last thing you should have agreed to, but Taehyung wanted you to loosen up and have fun with him, so you eventually agreed. But now you were regretting it as Taehyung looked two seconds away from committing assault.

“Listen to your woman Taehyung, will just prove to me just how soft you have really become. So disappointing, I thought that you were a real man before but now it seems you are some henpecked mess. Tragic.”

They were clearly goading Taehyung for a fight, and with all his previous ones in the past, Taehyung knew that he would win if he decided to accept the bait and go for it. But he felt your hands tighten around his arm even more and you even began to tug him backwards while speaking begging words to him to please just drop it, to just leave the party and go back to the dorm with you and forget it ever happened.

But his pride was wounded and there was nothing more than he hated than his image getting attacked, especially since he has earned a lot of street cred for himself. His was biting down on his teeth hard, pretty certain that he would eventually crack a tooth, but letting out a scoff and taking a step back towards yous, eyes on his apparent opponent.

“Fuck off.” He cursed before he turned around, ready to follow you out of the house and to take the two of you back to your dorm. He could see that you were relieved by his choice and even flashed him a small smile as the two of you began to walk away, but then it disappeared when his opponent decided to say the last word.

“I knew you were fucking weak.”

This time Taehyung saw red. He whipped around and ripped his arm out of your hands and stormed up to them and gave one hard right hook to the jaw, knocking them off feet and onto the floor where he immediately climbed on top of them and began to deliver hard punches to the face while keeping them upright by the collar.

He could hear the crowd egging him on, and Taehyung did not stop despite his hand killing him as he felt the skin split on his knuckles, but he just kept punching. He knew he had broken their nose and he knew he could do a lot more damage if it wasn’t your voice which snapped him out of it, your cries and pleas for him to stop.

“Taehyung please! Please stop! You’re going to kill them! Please stop!”

He somehow managed to get a hold of himself. He released them and stumbled away from the past out body on the floor before turning to you, his body rising and falling rapidly due to his anger and his hand stinging like hell. He saw that there were tears in yours eyes and it killed him because he knew he was the cause of it because he showed his more volatile side to you tonight. You knew he had a temper but it was the first time you saw him losing it violently with someone.

He regretted it, he shouldn’t have allowed himself to get baited like that. Now he did not know if this changed anything between the two of you, but dare he say he was scared that it would. He had never been scared before, aside from when he was younger and left home alone with his father, but now he honestly felt scared. Scared that you may leave him because of this.

Jungkook

Jungkook’s frame covered your entire body, pressing you into the couch while your hands pressed themselves along his abdomen, tracing ever single muscle that he had on them, prompting a low husk from his lips as he stared down at you with dark eyes. You gazed up at him so innocently, cheeks bright red as you took him animalistic look, looking like a starved tiger offered some meat on a hook. With you being the hook.

“Jungkook-” You started, but only for Jungkook to lean down at smash his lips to your in a harsh kiss.

He kept himself propped up on his elbows resting beside your head, his lips dominating yours as you tried to keep up with the pace he was setting, which was hot and heavy. He felt himself straining in his jeans, them needing to come off as soon as possible, but he was still trying to prolong for you to make sure he didn’t scare you off. While you could obviously feel how much he wanted you right now, he had to slow down at least a little to get you used to the idea that the two of you were going to become intimate. He didn’t want to rush it with you.

But there was only so long that he could wait, especially since you were pawing at him like a desperate puppy, arching into his body even though he was keeping himself propped up. Despite being the picturesque of innocence on campus, your looked positively sinful on his bed in only your underwear, bra scrapped long ago in his hurry in undressing you . With his restraint hanging on a thread, he couldn’t blame himself as he moved one hand to grab at your right breast, pulling away with a dark chuckle when he heard you groan from his hard groping.

“You like that, don’t you?” He asked, already knowing the answer as he could tell from your dark eyes glancing down at his hand playing with your breast, thumb and index moving to twist the nipple, causing you to yelp in surprise and pleasure. He grinned. “Yeah, I can see that you do.”

“J-Jungkook...” You called out, gasped as he continued to twist your nipple to his desire, making him chuckle before he moved to suddenly suck at your other breast, this time making a loud moan to escape your lips as Jungkook pleasured your whole chest, right hand occupied with your right breast while he sucked and licked at your left one. You were in a cycle of pleasure, but it was only a warmup for Jungkook.

“If you friends saw you right now...they would be shocked.” He pulled away from your breast, licking his lips before locking eyes with you before moving his hand from your breast to cup you, raising his eyebrows and smirking as he felt moisture pressing against his fingers. He glanced down to your core and chuckled.

“You’re soaking.”

“S-Stop.” You covered your entire face with your hands, your blush traveling all the way down to your neck that Jungkook could swear that you were glowing with how red you were.

You clearly were not used to such blunt talk, much less from Jungkook of all people since people warned you not to become involved with him due to his reputation with women and his lifestyle. And yet here you were, on his couch in his dorm, where he was cupping you in your most precious place where only your long-term boyfriend at your hometown had knowledge of its intimacies. And Jungkook was cupping you like it was some kind of prize.

“Stop? Why would I stop when you all all needy for me.” Jungkook teased, chuckling before pulling his hand away, much to disappointment as a whine left your lips which made Jungkook chuckle as he began to tug your panties off, noting how elaborate they actually were. “And clearly you wanted this to happen judging from your panties. Sexy.”

“That’s enough!” You exclaimed, this time his teasing getting the better of you as you pulled your hands away from your face to glare at him, only to be caught staring at Jungkook as he grinned delightfully at you, a smirk on his face as he he spun your panties around his finger with a raised eyebrow.

“Feisty, I like it.” He tossed your panties to the side and lunged down to catch your lips in a hot kiss, stopping himself from crushing you on his elbows once again. You felt his bulge against your bare core this time and you couldn’t yelp but squeak as it only seemed to grow in size. Jungkook pulled away only when oxygen became a need and he panted as he stared deeply into your eyes. “You are so fucking sexy.”

“I’m not-”

“Yes you fucking are.” He growled, glancing down at your naked body before suddenly reaching into his back pocket for his wallet and taking out a silver square package before tossing his wallet aside, which made you blush as you realised what he had taken out of it.

Screw his control. He needed you now.

Jungkook felt your eyes on him as he unbuckles his jeans and pulled them and his underwear down in one pull to free himself, him ripping open the silver wrapping with his teeth before he slipped on the protection before turning his attention back on you. He licked his lips when he saw your glistening core and he tugged you closer by the thighs before moving back down to prop himself on top of you, his one hand moving to cup your head while his other guided himself to your entrance.

“I’m going to take care of you. Okay?” He stated, feeling his tip at his entrance and moving his other hand to grip your shoulder, his eyes locked with yours in permission. Despite being incredibly flustered by Jungkook’s obvious need and desire for you, your moved grip his back, legs unconsciously opening wider for him as you nodded.

“Okay.” You said, your lips meeting with Jungkook’s as he thrusted into you, filling you easily and quickly which caused the both of you to moan at the union, a growl leaving Jungkook’s lips as he felt you around him.

“Fuck, you feel good.” He husked before he slowly began to move, giving you some time to adjust before he began to speed up, his restraint unable to handle his need for you anymore and finally breaking as you began to moan in sync with his grunts as he began to mark you as his. “You’re mine. You got that?”

“Yes...” You breathe, arching your head back as you hips began to meet Jungkook’s as he thrusted, nails digging into his shoulders as he kept moving. Jungkook husked out a laugh before speeding up even more, his entire frame dominating yours.

“My girl...my girl...my girl...”

You were his girl in every single way, and even though there were plenty of others you could go for, he was going to make sure that you wouldn’t, because he knew how much you loved him, just as he loved you. You were his as he was yours and he was not to let you go for anything.

[thevoidfishsminstrel]

Lena let out an undignified squeak as she grabbed hold of the bookshelf beside her in an effort to not land on her face.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

Lena turned, wiggling her foot back into her heels properly, before freezing, eyes widening at the caped figure now scrambling to her feet.

An array of books and magazines were spread out on the floor, presumably the culprit of her latest near death experience. It was as though National City’s newly revealed superhero had been sitting in between the bookshelves on the library floor… studying?

Lena clutched the cheesy romance novel she had been too busy reading to her chest as Supergirl looked at her in concern.

“Miss?”

Lena’s brain finally restarted and she cleared her throat, straightening her blazer. “Yes. I’m fine. Thank you.”

“You’re sure you’re not hurt?” Supergirl was wringing the edge of her cape in her fingers, looking far too nervous for someone who was suspected to be the strongest being on Earth by several sapphic blogs that Lena most definitely did not read.

“I’m fine.” She reached out to put a hand on Supergirl’s forearm in an impulse comfort gesture. “I promise.”

Supergirl seemed to relax slightly, some of the tension seeping from her shoulders. She held out a hand. “I’m Kara.”

Any tension that had left her immediately returned tenfold, eyes widening in panic as she froze.

Lena bit back a smile and took Kara’s hand, shaking it despite Kara’s lack of movement. “Lena. And don’t worry - your secret’s safe with me.”

Kara deflated, running a hand through her hair. “Alex is going to kill me.”

Lena laughed and patted Kara’s bicep (definitely the strongest being on Earth). “Maybe you should stop saying names now.”

Kara grimaced. “Oops.” She looked like she was about to say something else but stopped and looked at Lena again. “Wait… are you Lena Luthor?”

Lena straightened up, careful mask falling into place to try to hide the way her heart sped up and her throat constricted. “Yes.”

But before she could launch into her speech about how she was different from the rest of her family and only wanted to help, Kara lit up, crouching down to shuffle through her piles of literature until she came up with an issue of a science magazine from a few years ago.

“I just read your article about sustainable building and how we can introduce cost-effective eco-friendly measures to construction to reduce the damage done to the environment and promote a symbiotic relationship with nature.”

Lena blinked.

Kara almost poked herself in the eye before redirecting the movement to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry, I just thought it was really interesting. You’re probably tired of people asking you about your work.”

Lena’s eyebrows rose. “No I… I don’t mind.”

Kara smiled and Lena found her heart racing for an entirely different reason. She redirected her attention to the books scattered on the floor.

“So what’s National City’s resident superhero doing studying civil engineering, first aid and… veterinary science on the floor of the library?”

Kara blushed and knelt down to start scooping up all her things. “Sorry - I know I should have been at a desk I just got carried away.”

The pile of books was up to Kara’s eyebrows when she stood up and Lena laughed, taking the top third of them from her. “And I shouldn’t have been reading and walking. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Supergirl shrugged, toeing at the worn carpet with her red boots. “I’m new at the whole superhero thing. I don’t know where to freeze breath a building to hold it up or how to save someone who’s got water in their lungs from almost drowning. The other day I rescued a snake from a tree and tried to wrap it up in my cape to keep it warm and the owner told me ‘thanks, but reptiles are cold-blooded so they don’t warm up like that.’” She pouted at Lena. “The owner was a ten year old.”

Lena bit back a smile. “So you’re trying to learn how to be a better superhero?”

She shrugged and bit her lip. “I just don’t want to mess up.”

Lena considered her for a moment. “You know, I happen to have degrees in a few different kinds of engineering. And I made everyone at L-corp, including myself, take a first aid course when I took over.”

Kara looked as though she was trying to contain her hopeful expression. It wasn’t working very well, although that probably wasn’t surprising since her motto was ‘hope, help, and compassion for all.’

Kara bounced on her toes excitedly. “Would you help?”

Lena grinned and gestured to the left with her head. “Come on, I know which desk is the best in the library.”

———

It became somewhat of a routine after that. Every Saturday, Lena would go to the library as normal, pick out a new cheesy romance novel for the week and some kind of thick science book to hide it underneath, and then meet Supergirl in the back corner of the library, at the desk hidden behind the spare computers from the 90s where no one would find them.

Kara would normally already be there, pouring over texts and making notes in coloured pens and highlighters. Lena had bought her a rainbow of folders and dividers for each of the aspects of superheroing she was trying to improve in, and they had spent one very unproductive but fun day labelling and decorating them. They were now covered in random doodles, squiggly multicoloured patterns, and stickers that Kara had found in a rotating rack by the front desk, immediately claiming were essential for her learning.

During the week, Lena would keep an eye on any news of Supergirl, getting some strange looks from Jess when she walked into her office to see Lena cheering as Kara did something they’d worked on together. At the weekend she would listen to Kara excitedly retell those same events until the librarian came over to shush them. She seemed to be the only person in National city that wasn’t completely charmed by Supergirl, and it always led to half an hour of Kara pouting and asking Lena why the librarian didn’t like her.

It was a few weeks before Lena got there first. She frowned, checking the surrounding isles of books for any caped figures but they were all empty as usual.

She sat at their desk and opened up the book she had randomly grabbed off a shelf, putting her latest romance novel inside it to covertly read. It was called ‘Lost and Found: A Love Story’, the back of it claiming it was about a woman who ‘drops her scarf at a train station but ends up finding something much more meaningful in the woman she bumps into at the lost and found.’ It was exactly as awful as it sounded.

Kara bounded up to the table about 20 minutes later, a coffee cup in each hand and a satchel slung over her shoulder that made her cape bunch up awkwardly. She beamed at Lena and set a coffee down in front of her.

“Guess what I just did.”

Lena slammed the books shut inside each other, scrambling to put her arms over them and rest her chin in her hand casually. “What?”

Kara either didn’t notice or didn’t care, rounding the desk and putting her bag down on it with a grin. “I laservisioned the supports of a broken crane back together using some metal from a billboard and now it’s totally fine for use again.”

Lena’s eyebrows rose. “What happened to the crane in the first place?”

Kara’s cheeks heated and she looked away, rubbing the back of her neck as she mumbled, “I may have flown into it a little bit.”

She scowled at Lena as Lena started laughing but it was undermined by the way her lips tugged up.

“Oh!” Kara lit up and started rifling through her bag. “I brought you this.”

She held out a book with a bright smile. Lena’s eyes widened as she looked down at the cover of what was very clearly another cheesy romance.

“It’s my favourite love story. It’s a bit like the one you’re reading at the moment but better, in my opinion. I thought you might like it.”

“What?” Lena scoffed. “I wasn’t reading a romance. I was reading…” she glanced over to check what book she had picked up, internally filling with regret as she read the title, but she had already committed to the facade. “The rhyming dictionary.”

Kara was very clearly trying not to laugh. “Ok. Well I’ll just leave this one here. And in case you didn’t know,” she leaned closer to Lena’s ear as she climbed into her seat, and whispered, “I have x-ray vision.”

Lena blushed, refusing to look at Kara’s smug grin. She cleared her throat and moved her books off to the side, along with the one Kara had put down, as casually as possible, and attempted to change the subject.

“So you remembered about weight distribution in support structures?”

Kara paused in taking folders and notes out her bag to turn to Lena excitedly, rambling on about her save, gesturing wildly with her hands.

Lena picked up her coffee as she listened with a soft smile, absentmindedly taking a sip.

She frowned down at the cup. “Is this my usual?”

Kara paused in her rambling. “Yeah. Does it not taste right?”

Lena shook her head, staring back down at her perfect coffee, cheeks heating at the heart drawn in latte art that Kara probably didn’t even have anything to do with. “No I just… I didn’t know you knew my order.”

Kara grinned, raising an eyebrow (Lena should never have taught her how to do that). “Perhaps you’re not as elusive as you think, Lena Luthor.”

———

Lena arrived at the library one Saturday to find Supergirl staring at the front doors like she might set light to them any moment.

“What’s wrong Supergirl? Lose a fight with a door handle?”

Kara turned to her with a pout, pointing at a sign hanging on the other side of the glass. It read ‘Library closed until 23rd due to water damage. Apologies for the inconvenience.’

Lena sighed.

“Where am I going to get my books for this week, Lena? I’m never going to understand civil engineering without them.”

Lena bit the inside of her cheek, the rational part of her brain at war with the part that was helpless to the superhero’s pout. It had to be one of her superpowers because Lena would never admit she was actually soft.

She tore her gaze away, trying to seem casual. “I actually have some engineering textbooks at my apartment. I guess you could borrow them if you wanted.”

Lena squeaked as Supergirl crushed her in a bear hug, lifting her a few inches off the ground. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

Lena laughed, trying to turn it inconspicuously into a cough when a passerby gave a slightly shocked and confused look at the sight of a Luthor and a Super laughing on the library steps. Kara dropped her back to her feet, stepping back with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I got excited.”

Lena shook her head with a smile. She turned to go but as she went to gesture for Kara to follow, her hand caught against Kara’s. Her brain misfired and decided in the split second where her index finger hooked onto Kara’s pinkie that the best course of action was to commit to it and simply hold hands. In an attempt to make it seem less affectionate and more practical, she walked off quickly, dragging Kara along in the direction of her apartment.

She could feel Kara’s smile like rays of sun behind her. At least her hair was down to cover up the heat that was creeping up the back of her neck.

Her apartment was only a few minutes from the library. She had to slap Kara’s hand away from the elevator buttons before she pressed them all, marveling at how many floors there were.

“So this is where you live?” Kara looked around the hallway, panicking when she snapped a leaf off of a decorative plant, while Lena unlocked the penthouse door.

Lena pretended not to see her discreetly dropping the leaf into the plant pot but raised an eyebrow at her. “No, Supergirl. I just decided we should come and stare at this random person’s door.”

Kara ignored her, walking past into her apartment and looking down at the city below through the large floor to ceiling windows. “Nice view. I should take you flying sometime - it’s even better from up in the clouds, especially at night.”

Lena closed the front door, trying not to think about romantic flights and being cradled in strong arms. “I’ll go get the textbooks.”

She moved towards her home office, Kara trailing behind in interest. The engineering textbooks were over in the left corner and she scanned the alphabetised section for the ones she wanted.

Kara ran her fingers over the spines of books until Lena was done. She smirked at Lena, letting her hand trail teasingly down the bookshelf before she left. Lena blushed as she realised why. Kara had found her fiction section, over half the books in which were very clearly a certain genre.

Lena groaned and followed her out.

They spent the entire afternoon on the floor around Lena’s coffee table, going through the textbooks, laughing over Kara’s constant puns, and eating the seemingly endless supply of snacks Kara produced from her bag. It wasn’t until the sun had started to set that Lena realised how long they’d spent simply telling jokes and stories.

It was alarmingly easy to just be around Kara. Strangely, Lena didn’t think she minded.

———

Lena frowned as someone knocked on her door. It was a Saturday morning and she was just about to leave to meet Supergirl at the library.

She only grew more confused as she opened the door to see a fluffy white cloud panting happily at her and squirming in her direction. A head poked out from behind it, looking just as happy.

“Lena, hi! Sorry to just turn up but the mean librarian lady threw me out because apparently you aren’t allowed to play fetch in the library.”

Lena stared at the woman currently holding a large puppy in front of her, familiar blonde curls pinned back and glasses slipping down her nose. “…Kara?”

Kara blinked at her for a moment before she seemed to realise. “Oh! Right. Sorry - this is what I look like normally. When I’m not being Supergirl I mean. Alex said I wasn’t allowed to wear the suit all the time because it had to be washed.”

Lena nodded slowly, trying to reconcile the image of this Kara with Supergirl and to not think too hard about the implications of Kara being comfortable enough around her to show her her civilian identity. “Right. Why do you have a dog?”

Kara lit up. “I saved an animal shelter from a fire and they let me adopt this guy. Isn’t he adorable?”

Lena looked at the matching faces of excitement. “Very cute. But why is he here?”

Kara shrugged. “Well I couldn’t leave him after I’d just adopted him so I thought he could join us for our study session?”

Lena crossed her arms and Kara pouted. It was somewhat undermined by the puppy licking her face and making her giggle but Lena was still helpless to resist.

“Ok but he better not mess up any of my stuff.”

“Yes!” Kara grinned, wiggling the puppy excitedly, his ears flopping about.

Kara kissed her cheek on her way into the apartment and Lena’s heart skipped a beat. The puppy licked her in an attempt to join in but even that didn’t stop the way her heart raced.

They settled on the couch, facing each other as Lena quizzed Kara with flashcards. The puppy alternated between curling up in Kara’s lap and zooming around Lena’s living room, falling over his own paws.

“Ok, last one. How do you treat a sprain?”

“Ice it with my freezebreath, wrap it so it’s compressed but not cutting off circulation, keep it elevated.”

Lena grinned proudly. “That’s it! Done.”

Kara threw her hands in the air in delight, squealing as she propelled herself forwards to tackle Lena to the couch. She pulled back just as quickly, pushing up to brace herself over Lena.

“Sorry. I got excited.”

All the breath had deserted Lena’s lungs and she stared up at Kara. A light flush rose on Kara’s cheeks, pale pink against the deep blue of her eyes, bringing out the freckles that dusted her skin.

The flashcards slipped from Lena’s grasp as she surged up to meet Kara’s lips. Kara’s arms almost buckled but she caught herself. And then she was kissing back.

Lena’s hands slid up Kara’s back, practically pulling Kara down on top of her.

They were both breathing hard when they pulled apart, eyes closed and foreheads rested together.

Kara was smiling softly down at her when she finally opened her eyes. She had shifted to hold herself up on one hand and one elbow, her free hand gently stroking back Lena’s hair.

She looked like she was about to say something when she did a double take over the armrest of the couch behind Lena and her soft look turned into a wince. “What was it you said about the puppy not messing up any of your stuff?”

[yeojaa]

come over, pt. i

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  explicit.  tags.  this is pwp.  smut in the forms of:  kissing, oral (m/f), fingering, deepthroating, hickeys, protected sex.  use of the pet name shy girl.  wc. 6.2k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif and @snackhobi aka the loves of my tiny life.  author note.  this is an adaption of an rp with my beloved @velvetwicebang​.  while the writing is all my own, i owe so much to loma for inspiring me and being such a wonderful partner. 💛 if you enjoy this, feedback goes a long way.  tysm for reading!  (and yes, there will be a second part.)

You’ve been friends for thirteen months, classmates for another three before that.  You’ve worked on countless projects together, watched him fall off a roof, and have had to bail him out of campus security’s grubby little hands. Your friendship is easy, based on mutual suffering in Professor Kim’s class and long study dates spent in the library.  He smuggled you chocolates in his pockets and you brought iced coffee to the 8 a.m. lecture you shared.

You’re not sure why you’re riddled with uncertainty now then, every nerve ending shot, lit up bright like the still-up mini Christmas tree sitting in the corner of your dorm room.  (You know you should take it down but it’s so cute, slouched ever with a tiny gold star-shaped bell hanging from the end.).  

Spending time with Jungkook was normal - a part of your weekly routine - but then again, you hadn’t somehow developed a weird little crush on him until recently.  

(If you think hard, you could probably pinpoint it to a night a few weeks ago when he looked particularly good, fluffy powder puff of hair stripped of shadow and gleaming gold beneath the warm lecture lights.  You’d never had a thing for blonds but he made it look good - surprising you when he’d dropped into his seat beside you and winked in response to your surprise.) 

(It’s something you can't tear your thoughts from now, that infuriatingly charming smile burnt into your retinas.  It sits at the forefront of your mind, stealing your attention from the movie that's playing on the television hung across from your bed.  One of those blockbuster flicks, because who didn’t love gratuitous action and lens flares?)

A hand reaches for the chip bowl propped between you - homemade chex mix, because you’ve been obsessed with the recipe since discovering it a few weeks ago - and you flinch away when it brushes the hand that's already in there.

"Sorry!"  You squeak before coughing, a quick-witted (but not altogether believable) attempt at hiding the sudden heat that flares across your cheeks.  The same hand disappears between your knees, fingers curling into the soft throw laid over your legs.  You tell yourself to relax at least three times before speaking, peeking at your companion from beneath a fringe of sleep-tousled strands.  “Stop stealing all my chips.” 

The boy beside you only grins, tosses that lazy smile in your direction before turning his attention back to the explosion on the screen, entire expression lit up by the fireworks that explode in flashes of colour.

You think you’ve gotten away with it - that he hasn’t noticed - and then he’s speaking again, pointedly staring forward, seemingly unbothered.  (You know better though.  Jungkook’s infuriating like that, picking up on all the little things despite the fact that he’s a dumb boy, too good at reading between the lines when he barely studies.)

“You’re blushing.”

The callout is, well, uncalled for. 

You choose to ignore him at first, opting to shove two chocolates past your lips.  They’re unbearably sweet, minty and cold - your favourite - and the richness spills across your tongue, eliciting a soft hum as your teeth buzz from the sugar.  (Note to self:  thank Jungkook for the chocolate later.)

“You’re blushing,”  you retort once you’ve swallowed, cheeks puffed out and a dent gathering between your brows.  “I’m just—“  Hand waves wildly - nearly hits him in the face with how wobbly it is - and you pretend-glare at him, faux affront laid in spades.  “—hot.”

It comes snappier than you mean it to, spoken in something close to a pout.  You aren’t actually.  The campus is notorious for having garbage heating, floorboards more akin to packed snow in the dead of winter.  It’s just annoying.  You refuse to be another one of those girls.

(Not that there’s anything wrong with said girls.  It’s more an issue with Jungkook, stupidly handsome and charming and far too popular for his own good.  People already told you all about Jungkook’s escapades - even though you often heard them from him firsthand and in gruelling detail.  One of the downsides to being friends with someone who, for all intents and purposes, carried the title of campus heartthrob.) 

“Pay attention to the movie.”  The same hand reaches for the mix again, careful to avoid brushing his this time.  You think you’ve succeeded, snatching up a piece of pretzel, morsel halfway to your mouth when it drops to your lap.

The same lap that suddenly has a hand on it, palm warm over your knee.  

If you’d thought your nerve endings were shot, now you knew they were.  Every inch of skin was on fire - heat shooting up your spine and over your neck the moment his hand comes in contact with bare skin.  Damn your need for comfort, damn your choice to wear shorts, damn his freaking hot tattooed hands—

You almost yell at him.  The sound’s on the tip of your tongue when you bite down, stare trained wholly on the movie and the blood that splatters across the screen..

Really, you shouldn't be surprised.  You’ve known Jungkook for nearly two years - okay, not quite.  You’ve heard all the rumours about him, the whispered words that sound something like playboy and flirt and be careful.  You know and yet you’ve found yourself in this situation, desperately trying to figure out what the hell is going through his mind as you stare straight ahead, refusing to move a muscle.  

His profile is picture perfect from your periphery;  he's focused too, acting like he's done nothing wrong.  Sly as a fox, as always.

“Still blushing,”  he repeats conversationally, as if he’s commenting on the colour of the sky or how cold it is in your room.  Not as if he’s got a hand where it shouldn’t be, ink spilling over his skin in pretty patterns, burning the shape of it where he touches.

"I didn't blush.”  It’s a retort made for only argument’s sake and even then, without weight.  Feather soft and feeble in an attempt to keep your voice level.  It's hard when you’re burning up, a livewire settled where you feel him.  "I'm not blushing."

It's a lie - you can feel the flush, embarrassment flooding from your cheeks all the way down over your chest.  It’s an inferno beneath your skin, lava coursing through your veins.  

It spreads further and further, blooms somewhere new when his hand drifts lower, tracking across the soft inner of your thigh.  Doesn’t cease even when his hand does, palm firm over your leg, the ghost of a touch passing so close to your core you can’t help but jolt.  It’s as if he’s rearranged your pieces, mixed them all up.  A brush of his finger over your clothed entrance feels like it hits you right in the chest, snaps your heart to attention.  It roars to life, thundering madly, pulse erratic when he repeats the gesture, with that much more pressure.

You’re dripping, you realise to your horror, cotton of your thong sticking to your skin, grey of your shorts made darker by the arousal that spills over the one not-so-innocent digit. 

A part of you wants to run from the room.  Nearly do, heart hammering in your chest when Jungkook's face is suddenly too close, the warmth of his breath stifling against your neck.  It feels good, anticipation and desire fizzing in your stomach like fountain pop.  (The movie theatre kind, that’s somehow flat and too bubbly all at once.)

"Kook."  You mean to say it reproachfully, with a hand pushing his wrist away.  Instead it comes out like a whisper, a soft sigh of his name that sounds almost needy, laced with worry and anticipation that makes you want to tear your own hair out.  Fingers remain locked around bone, other hand digging into the blanket and the linen beneath it, searching desperately for some form of composure beneath the material.  

For the first time, you hazard a glance - know it’ll be bad for your own well-being - dropping your stare to where his hand rests.  (You have to admit - you like the sight of those tattoos, a stark contrast to the unblemished softness.)

Like it almost as much as his kisses, the first of which lands exactly where you want it most.  Delicate, polite, right on the junction of your jaw.  A sigh escapes before you can help it.  "Shy girl,”  he coos, teasing in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. 

“I’m not shy,”  you huff - try to, anyway, around the kaleidoscope of butterflies that are threatening to choke you.  "We're watching a movie."  You’re trying to redirect his attention, even as you’re desperate for it, even as you think you’d give your whole heart for it. 

You’re this close to combusting, eyes widening the moment he extracts his hand and tucks it back into the bowl of chips.  A part of you wants to yell at him - for starting this in the first place but mainly for leaving you high and dry, turned on and soaking through your underwear. 

(It’s not fair, but then again, you’d never expected them to be.  You’ve seen the rules Jungkook plays by - namely those of his own creation.  Term paper due the next morning?  He’d somehow pull it out of his ass that night.  Break something at a house party?  He’d be let off with a smile and a wave, those doe eyes of his utterly lethal when paired with his pout.)

“Watch the movie then.”  He sounds almost bored, utterly unbothered as he seamlessly slips back into the proper role of friend, classmate, study partner.

"Let's."  Without tossing another glance in his direction, you stare straight ahead, own hand delving for snacks.  So what if you very purposely brush your fingers against the pieces he's just touched, popping the pieces into your mouth before slotting your thumb against your tongue, cheeks hollowing around to suck the last bits of salt and butter off.

Despite your nerves - you’re hoping he's watching - you readjust, bringing knees up, crossing legs until one is resting atop his own thick thigh.  The full of your bottom lip disappears between your teeth, worried to within an inch of its life as you shift beside him, seemingly manoeuvring your shorts into their rightful position.

(You’re not.  They’re hitched higher than they were, barely worthy of the title of shorts, more akin to a belt.  So revealing it’s almost uncomfortable, wet of your arousal sticking them to your skin.)

(Two could play this game.)

(Maybe him better than you, but still.)

You know what you’re doing and yet you’re somehow surprised when he’s suddenly disappeared from your side and situated himself in front of you, eating up too much of the space on your small double bed.  “What’re you—“  The question disappears in the same moment he does, unable to track his movements when Jungkook slips forward, pressing his mouth over yours.

You’ve kissed a lot of people.  (Okay, not a lot, but enough.)  You were a senior in college, where kissing was like talking and fucking happened more often than dating.

You’ve never kissed Jungkook before.  

Why hadn’t you?

His lips are terribly soft, pink and pouted, slanting across yours as if he’s trying to devour you.  There’s no semblance of delicacy, nothing gentle and sweet like those brushes against your neck.  They’re forceful, demanding payment in full when his tongue glides over the seam, seeking entrance despite the fact that you think he might’ve slipped in anyway.

There’s not a single wall he couldn’t break down, not a lock he couldn’t pick.  Not with how he moves, purposeful and reassured, tongue sliding over yours, sucking it into his mouth as if it’s something he does every day.  (Which it very well could be - just not with you.)

“Shy girl,”  he repeats with a mouth filled with affection, praise that pours over you honey sweet and sticky.  “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

The thing is, you’re not pretending.  You’re half-afraid this entire moment is going to explode into a thousand pieces, a dream shattered by reality.  You hope it doesn’t.  Couldn’t bear it when he feels so nice, hand spanning your waist, tucked beneath the safety of your shirt and the fleece blanket between you.  

“I’m not.”  

“Oh?”  There’s something in his eyes, something that coils heat in the pit of your stomach.  You swear you can see the devil sitting on his shoulder, gleeful little smile rearranging his features.  “Do I make you nervous, ____?”

Did he?  Of course he did.  Had, even before you’d known him.

(You’d grown comfortable, though.  Found a way to separate the popular heartthrob from your friend.)

But you’ve lost your marbles, gone certifiably insane when you make a noise that sounds nothing like you.  Because you’re once again far too interested in the way Jungkook’s touching you, manhandling you as if you’re some sort of puppet.  It really shouldn’t turn you on so much, slick coating your bare thighs when he guides you onto your back, pushes you back against your too many pillows.

He’s your friend and he’s told you all about the way he fucks girls until they can’t walk.  

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want the same treatment, though. 

The moment Jungkook’s mouth finds your skin - sensitive and soft and so close to your soaked core - you keen, hands immediately flying into his silky head of hair.  It threads between your fingers like fine silk, filaments of gold overlaid in colour by the movie that still plays.  

“Oh my god,”  you gasp, entire body arching off the back of the bed in an effort to bring some form of  relief.  You can’t help the heat that burns your cheeks or how you sound, begging and pleading as you tug gently at his blond roots.  “Don’t tease me.”

You’re not asking very nicely but you figure Jungkook will give in.  It’s his fault, after all.  

His fault - which you don’t mind when he hooks fabric aside and drags his tongue across your slit, the flat of his tongue arching your back from the bed.  Can’t mind when he does it again, rounded nose bumping against your clit.  You’re trying to stay just a little bit decent, moans soft and caught between your teeth.  You’re practically biting a hole through your lip in an effort to stay quiet, hands curled into fists.  Gold spills between them and you imagine it hurts but he doesn’t stop, only works harder to drive you crazy.

Of course he’s good at this.  Too good, if you’re being honest.

You’re dripping, legs trembling in his firm, unyielding grip.  There's molten heat building in your stomach, creeping up your spine, and with each pass of his tongue over your sensitive core, it only expands.  You want more - need it - and almost beg when he catches your clit between his teeth.  A breathy baby spills out on accident when your eyes meet, gaze half-lidded.

It’s bad for your health, how good he looks right now, chin slick, lips rubied and pretty like jewels.  “Shy girl sounds so pretty.”

There's something about his praise that completely ruins you, the words dragging a delighted, sexpot moan off your tongue.  You want him to tell you how pretty you are now and later, over and over.  

You want to be his pretty girl. 

"I want you.  I need more,"  you whine, hips rutting desperately, slick messy across your thighs and shining across Jungkook's mouth.  He smiles then - brighter than the sun, utterly radiant, so devastatingly handsome you swear your brain short circuits - and then he’s doing exactly as you’ve asked. 

He eats you out like it’s an art form, flicking his tongue over your clit with practiced precision, sucking the pearl between his lips.  When he grazes his teeth over it - just the lightest pressure - you jolt, the feeling of a finger sliding into you stealing the breath from your lungs.

He’s always had nice hands, big broad palms and long fingers.  They reach places you could never hope to, stretching you deliciously when he sinks another in alongside the first, exploring you with ease.  The sting is slight, the fullness overriding any pain, further dulled by the suction of his mouth on your clit.  

He even hums when he finds the spot he’s been looking for, hooking his fingers against it and pressing.  (You swear you see stars;  you know you feel him smile, lips spread like butter over your skin when you sob.)

You can’t help yourself, writhing and moaning, trying to ride his face with a desperation that has your chest heaving.  It feels so good to have him between your legs.  You almost miss the appearance of his other hand - in view for but a moment before it disappears past the waistband of his sweats.  Dark as they are, pitch black like most of his clothing, it’s impossible to miss the way he touches himself.  It has you even needier, pussy clenching at the thought of him fisting his own hard cock.

“Do you want a hand?”  You ask as if you’re doing him a favour and not salivating at the prospect, eyes wide, blinking down at him from behind thick lashes.  

“Fuck.”  He’s sin incarnate, undeniable when he sheds his sweats, kicks them off with just one hand, other still slotted snug against your pussy.  He never ceases his movements, fucking you on his fingers even as he sits upright, leaned back on his calves.  “You want a taste?  Shy girl wants a big fat cock in her mouth?”  

There's something about hearing him so turned on, the expletive shooting a dizzying bolt of desire straight between yours legs.  You’ve seen Jungkook worked up - he was awfully competitive, after all, dominating most intramural sports, breaking PR records in the gym - but it's something else completely when he's making you drip cum all over his hand.

"Wow.”

Jungkook's cock is pretty, flushed and glossy from the pre-cum he spreads with his thumb, massaging over the tip like it owes him something.  

You want to taste it.

A contented hum rolls off your tongue at his question, though you don’t give him the satisfaction of an answer.  His ego's big enough without it and you’re much more interested in stroking something else.  Still, you lean into his palm, nuzzling your cheek against the warmth of it when he threads his hand through your hair, gathering it in his fist.

Then without looking away, your mouth falls open, tongue peeking past your lips to lick a fat stripe up the length of his cock, from base to tip.  It's hot and heavy on your tongue, the salty taste of his pre-cum better than candy.  You hum again, swirling your tongue around the head, and keep your gaze locked with Jungkook's, almost smirking when you drag your tongue over his fingers, gently grazing the edge of your teeth against the pad of his thumb. 

“Please.”  You’re usually far more reserved, not the kind to ask for more until you’re three months into dating and certain of where you stand.  You simply can’t help yourself now, the feeling of your own wetness painting your skin, making you clench around nothing.  "I need it."

The groan that comes sounds more like Christmas, a gift given by Santa Claus himself.  It filters into your ears and has you grinning up at him, not even bothering to hide the pride that flutters your lashes and has you pursing your lips around the head of his cock.  

When he speaks again, it’s dangerously quiet, low in his throat, laced with whatever same emotion that seems to shackle your limbs.  “Open up, ____,”  he instructs, though he offers little time to adjust, guiding his cock forward, stuffing your mouth full.  “Show me how bad.”

You don’t mind.  If you were to speak, it’d practically be a prayer, tongue tracing the veins that run the length.  A chorus of yes please more when he takes just as much as he gives.  You love the power that comes with Jungkook speaking so filthily, drunk on it when he continues, spewing filth in time with each rock of his hips.

Lips seal around the swollen head each time he withdraws, cheeks hollowing around the tip.  Tongue passes over his fingers again before your hand rises, fingers curling around his wrist to pull his own away.  (You probably shouldn't - it's too romantic - but thread your fingers through his in the same instant you sink down upon his cock, taking him halfway before pulling off with a pop!)

"Do you think you'll last long enough to fuck me?"  You’re pushing his buttons on purpose, just like he had yours during the movie. 

Something close to a snarl comes, a growl that reverberates out of that big cavernous chest of his, and he grips your hair tighter, tries to hold you still as he grins down at you.  The expression is so at odds with the warmth in his eyes, the boyish tilt of his head.

You repeat the motion again and again, taking him a little bit deeper until the head brushes the back of your throat, reflexively swallowing around the intrusion.  He's still so long and thick you haven’t even taken him all, drooling around his length, breathing through your nose and pushing past the desire to gag.  Then you relax your jaw just a little more, humming when your nose brushes the neatly groomed patch of hair at his base.

Your free hand slinks across his thigh, nails digging into the meat, delighted by the flex of muscle and sinew beneath your hand.  He's so hard, both on your tongue and beneath your touch.  It prompts you to shift forward just a bit more - you can feel the slick on your thighs, dripping down onto the sheets with each movement - and trace across his thigh to gently palm his balls.

If you could speak, you’d probably ask for more.  For Jungkook to use and abuse your throat as much as he wants.  As it stands, you can only moan around him, spit and his pre-cum smeared over your lips.

“Look at you.”  He’s talking to himself, lost in his own world as he fucks into your mouth, soothes the pad of his thumb over your cheek.  You adore the way he sounds now, dazed and a little messed up.  “Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, ____.”

You can’t do much more than look up at him, batting your lashes when he compliments you, dragging your tongue everywhere you can reach as the head of his cock batters the back of your throat.  It's not an easy feat, drool all the way down your chin, trailing down your neck and staining the silk of your camisole.

At some point, you’ll need to pull off - get a proper breath of air - but not now.  Instead, you swallow around him, savouring the feeling of him filling your mouth, and squeeze gently at his balls.  When you wink up at him, it's half-hearted and with moisture in your eyes, lining lashes in the form of little gemstones.

You do it again and again, moaning lewdly around his cock before it gets too much, pulling off of him with a gasping breath and tears down your cheeks.  “Is it my turn yet?”  You’re only half-joking, made needier by the soreness in your throat, the same you want to feel so desperately between your legs.  Pressing a sweet, chaste peck to his head, tongue dipping into his slit to gather the pre-cum that leaks out, you offer the sweetest smile you can, saccharine sweet and soft.  

“Your turn?”  The way Jungkook snorts is derisive, playful.  It pulls straight off his tongue - which finds yours, swapping spit as he guides you back to the bed.  Teeth collide, lips grown swollen by the intensity of your kiss, and you startle when he nips hard at the bottom petal.  “I thought you were shy.”

“I am,”  you retort, returning the gesture, biting into the curve of his jaw with surprising repose.  Colour blooms beneath the edge of enamel, a smattering of colour that makes you smile, eager to leave more.

Which you would do, if Jungkook weren’t stripping before you, peeling his shirt from his front, tugging it over his head in that weirdly hot way that somehow all boys did.  It reveals skin in a single fluid pull, clothing discarded to the side before he levels you with a smile of his own, one that stirs to life the dimple in his cheek, eyes squinting with the intensity of his delight.  He looks deceptively sweet this way, nothing like the demon who’d just stuffed his cock down your throat.

You’re not sure which version of him you like best.

Seeing him now, dressed in nothing but that absurd, devilishly handsome grin of his, you’re not prepared.  You’re unsure where to look, gaze bouncing between the tattoos that crawl up his arms and span over his left pec, down the neatly defined ridges of his abs, and all the way back to his swollen, shiny cock.

“You’re drooling.”  Of course it’s something he’d say - because he always knows what to say, plucking perfect words from thin air.  The casual banter calms the rattle in your chest and refocuses it on his face that’s too close, looming over yours as his hands make quick work of your clothes, shedding the fabric from your form with deft, measured movements.

You’re ready to say something teasing - anything to distract from the fact that you’re still ogling him - when he catches you in another kiss, softer this time, infinitely sweeter.  Suddenly, you’re shy - which really makes no sense, given what’s transpired.

"Don't make fun of me,"  you mumble, as bashful as you were during the movie, embarrassment burning across your cheeks.  Arms rise to cover what little of your chest you can, folding around his broad palms that encompass them whole, tweaking at the straining buds.

“I’m not,”  Jungkook reassures against your lips, face dropping into the crook of your neck.  He nuzzles against you, sucking affection into the column of your throat, shamelessly laying a wreath of lust into the delicate skin.  You wonder whether he can hear the stutter of your pulse, the reaction his next words elicit.  “You’re pretty when you do it.”

You can’t quite pull your eyes away from his face, shrouded in lemon tart, so good-looking it’s unfair; his broad back and the muscle that threads it, undulating with each movement;  or the way his thighs flex between your spread knees.  You’re dragged through heaven and hell by the brush of his lips, each glide overstimulating your senses to the point of no return.  You’re still burning up, all the foreplay leaving your legs like jelly, cunt dripping with need.  "I bet you say that to all the girls."

Probably not the best thing to say with the position you’re in but the reality of the situation is hitting you and you’re feeling a little vulnerable.  Want an answer that’ll soften the sharp edges of his teeth, the intoxicating glint in his stare.

“No, just you.”  Whether it’s true or not, you can’t say for certain.  You hope it is - wish upon a star for it, laying all your hopes and dreams into the constellations in his eyes.  They’re lovely, winking down at you from the darkest depths, guiding you home.  

You don’t mean to scoff - really, you don’t.  It comes of its own accord, spilling forth like a glass too full.

“You don’t believe me?”  He sounds almost offended, the picture of innocence when he reaches down, hand scrambling about for pooled black fabric.  Comes back up with a packet between his index and middle finger, held aloft like a prize.  

How can you when he’s ready to devour you whole, primed to feast as he rolls the condom over his length, stroking himself once, twice, gaze never wavering from where it rests between your legs.

“Always prepared.”  It’s scathing but somehow tender, too mesmerised by the way he fucks into his loose fist.  You’d say more - maybe make a flippant comment about his reputation - but can’t find the words when he’s teasing you, swollen head tapping teasingly over your core.  It feels like too much, leaves you breathless when he hikes your legs up and nearly folds you in half. 

When he presses into you, the sound you make is sinful, a moan you can’t help.  Jungkook’s so fucking big you’re sure you’re about to split in half, pussy clenching tight around the sudden intrusion.  “Oh my god,”  you whine, hands coiling into his hair, trying desperately to relax, the sting of the stretch battling the pressure that builds as he sinks further in.  “You’re so big.  I c-can’t—”  You’re starting to babble nonsense and he hasn’t even begun moving yet, lips hot over the sweat-slick column of his throat when he bows, burning his presence into the grace of your neck.  A hickey of your own creation blooms right where your mouth is, right over his shoulder.  The salt of his skin distracts you, makes it easier to accommodate the fullness.  “You feel so good, Kook.”  You rock experimentally beneath him, clenching tight as if to draw him deeper.  “Please, move,”  you beg, aiming to form another bruise beneath his skin.

The first thrust chases all the breath from your lungs, a gasp ricocheting off your tongue and into the minimal space between you.  He's absurdly big, stretching you out so well that every stroke feels like heaven.  When he pushes back in, snaps his hips in that easy, effortless motion of his, you’re making the most obscene noises, words lost to his hair as he lavishes your tits with attention.

B-big! is all you manage to squeak out.  It sounds like that, anyway.  With how he's filling you, it's hard to speak coherently;  you can practically feel him in your throat.  (Or maybe that's just from choking on him earlier.  You’re not really sure.)

Hands find their way around his neck, over his shoulders, periwinkle-painted nails leaving light etchings in their wake.  They bloom colour over his back - not too hard, careful still, motor skills barely functioning - before you tangle your fingers in his hair, holding him recklessly close as the pressure builds and builds, flooding your abdomen in heat. 

There’s slick all across your thighs.  You can hear the wet sounds each time Jungkook slips almost all the way out and then rocks back in.  It's terribly messy and so hot but you’re greedy, drunk off the feeling of having this Adonis break you in half.  "Harder, p-please."  Eyes wide, you tug gently at the soft strands at the nape of his neck, meeting his with a flutter of your lashes.  "Please?"

He acquiesces without hesitation, fucks you harder, deeper, like an animal in a rut.  Grinds against you with each thrust, pushing you to your limits.  Even has the audacity to push further, until the strain in your hips conflicts with the pleasure skipping up your spine, melting you into a boneless mass.

You’ve never felt like this, stretched out and used.  You’re used to gentle lovers, sweet - if not boring - lovemaking.  The way Jungkook's pounding into you is unheard of and you’re loving it, his name whimpered on a feedback loop.  A steady Kook, Kook, Kook that twinkles in your ears, inarticulate and pleading as you rock shamelessly against him.

“You like that, ____?”  It’s a question for his own ego, something he knows but asks anyway.  (It’d be impossible not to know the answer when your cunt’s sucking him in, coating his cock in a pretty sheen.)

You’re nodding dumbly, breathless, eager to meet him each time he snaps forward.  (It’s not easy like this, practically prone beneath him, twisted into a pretzel.)  "Like it so m-much.  Feels so good.”  You can’t stop smoothing open mouthed kisses over his fluffy hair, basking in the sunshine that radiates off him. 

There's an ache starting between your legs, pussy swollen around his thick length.  You’re grateful for your natural flexibility, the hot yoga sessions you’d entertained on-and-off for years.  You’re sure you’d feel it in your legs too, knees pushed all the way up by your ears, if not for that.  

But still, you’re defenceless, made to experience each and every thing he has to offer:  every vein and ridge, the head of his cock reaching so deep it's almost too much.  With each stroke, Jungkook’s brushing against the sensitive spot that has pleasure skyrocketing, blossoming like a rose garden in spring.  "R-right there,"  you manage, rolling your hips purposefully, nearly crying each time he brushes against your g-spot.

“Right there?”  He parrots it back, infuriating and adorable, the teasing tenor dripping over you like raindrops.  They settle beneath your skin, sinking into your bones as he rears back just enough, enough to steal a kiss that’s far more tongue than it needs to be.  

It’s almost as if he’s trying to drown you, sink you beneath high tide.  

Spit descends down your chin, trails over your neck and it’s a little gross but you don’t care.  The attention he’s giving is shameless, passed over your cheeks, your throat, your breasts.  He gives and gives, both with his lips and the praise that comes unfettered.  “Perfect,”  he hums, sucking your nipple into his mouth, worrying the bud until it’s straining and puffy, too sensitive when he kisses you again and your own thigh brushes against it.  You whimper at the feeling, pulling softly at his hair, unsure whether you want less or need more.  “So sensitive.  Such a shy girl.  Such a pretty girl.”

Every word of praise has you beaming, nearly purring with delight despite the pain that comes when he puts you through the same once more, laving over the other bud with abandon.  He's sweat-slick, beads of it running down his neck, over the mosaic of bruises you’ve left behind.  It's almost embarrassing how dark his throat is coloured, a dozen reminders left all over his skin.

(You wonder how long they’ll last, how many days will pass as the colour shifts, changing like autumn leaves.  Whether they’ll still be there at your next lecture, if he’ll wear them with pride or cover up beneath one of his big baggy sweaters.)

(You hope it’s the latter.)

(Maybe he’ll let you give him more.)

(Maybe he—)

There’s a change of pace and you’re crying out, hiccupping with each thrust, the head of his cock finding your g-spot with unbearable, unrelenting precision.  Clawing at his arms, long nails digging into the firm muscle of his biceps, something between a sob and a plea rolls off your tongue, over and over.  "So big.  It's too m-much.”  And yet you don’t want him to stop, punch drunk from the way he reaches deep and pulls you tighter against him, hips risen off the bed. 

You’re begging again, eyes rolled so far back in your head you can hardly focus, the coil in your stomach pulled so tight you know it's about to snap.  When Jungkook laughs - a sweet giggle that proves his duality - you clench almost painfully, tears finally spilling over. 

One last brush against your most sensitive spot, one last thrust of that monster cock, and you’re peaking, coming so intensely you feel as if you’re soaring. Everything's suddenly so much more wet, release soaking into the linens beneath you, coating your thighs and his legs and dripping between you.

You’ve never come like this before, without some sort of direct stimulation on your clit.  It’s pleasurable in a different way, severing all your sensibilities, explosive in its magnitude.  It tingles beneath your skin, flooding all your senses. 

"Kook—please—come for me.”  You’re rocking up, forward - trying to, at least, folded as you are - singing his name, pleading for him to fuck his cum into you (momentarily ignorant to the fact that you’ve been responsible, a thin wall of latex separating you from your fucked out fantasy).  

Despite the sensitivity, you’re clenching around him, eager to bring him to his own high.  You want to feel him come apart above you, eroded into a mess like you are.

He’s just as pretty reaching his peak as he is at any other time, handsome face screwed up as if he’s reached nirvana, bliss slacking his features the longer he rides it out, bucking into you as he fills the condom and still doesn’t stop.  It’s almost unbearable, oversensitivity spilling into pleasure until he leisurely grinds to a halt, stops the inconsistent pressure against your bundle of nerves, the assault on your fluttering walls.

When he collapses against you, whole face squished between the valley of your breasts, you can’t help but laugh, the sound breathless and endeared.  “Are you okay?”  You don’t mind where he is, weight comforting, skin sticky on yours.  He’s unbelievably warm - a blanket fresh from the wash and yet so much better, lulling you into a sense of security.

“Better than okay,”  he murmurs against your chest, smothering open-mouthed kisses over skin, snickering when you jolt at the feel of his teeth over your nipple one last time.  “You’re welcome.”  It’s an indulgent, facetious expression of gratitude, one that you haven’t asked for.  You laugh all the same, ducking your head into the crown of spun gold atop his head.  

“You too.”

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @codeinebelle​

[damiano-mylove]

The Members if Måneskin when their S/O is stressed

Alcohol, lil bit of swearing, smoking, but nothing out of the ordinary *Masterlist*

Vic

A night of R&R is definitely in order

Vic would go out during the day, get you a nice bottle of wine, your favourite flowers, and your favourite video

By the time you got home, a warm dinner was on the table, of your favourite meal, candles lit, and succulent aromas wafting from the table, making your mouth water - the flowers rested in the middle of the table, in vibrant colour, and the wines poured into two glasses on either side of the table

There was the mastermind, standing just beside you, with a mellow smile on her lips and a bright look in her eye

You couldn't help but wrap your arms around your girlfriend tightly, which she returned quite happily - her efforts had not been for nothing

For the night, she would separate you from your main source of stress

Instead of studying, or writing spreadsheets, or worrying, or doing any of those things that get you all up in knots, the night was spent in a scenario straight out of a story book

After the film, Vic whispered sweet assurances in your ear, landing sweet kisses against your neck, until you felt sleep take you away

The next day seemed to fly by a lot smoother, only for you to come back that night with almost the exact same treatment, as well as all of the chores that taxed you already done by your girl

Thomas

What you needed was to get out, let your hair down, let your mind wander from the thing causing you stress, for once - you're just wound so fucking tight, and Thomas recognizes that

The main event of the night was a concert, for a local band, but it was still killer

It was in a nightclub, where you both got comfortably drunk and loose - the friends you'd met together while boozing it up started to leave for the night, but you and Thomas were still going strong

The club closed, so you both had no choice but to go home, where a bottle of Jack Daniels was awaiting your arrival

Thomas put on a playlist of your favourite songs, that he had made for you, while you poured both of you a glass of Jack - and by God, you were already so in the bag that the burn didn't even register

Drunkenly, you and your boyfriend danced around your living room, sloppily kissing and collapsing on the couch every other step

The room was full of careless laughter, decently loud music, and the most sincere words ever spoken in all of known history - you smiled till your teeth got cold and Thomas laughed until his stomach cramped

By the time you finally woke up, neither you nor Thomas remembered going to sleep, especially not on the couch

But now, your main worry was the crick in your neck and the booze in your blood - whatever was getting you riled up before was put in the rear view

Ethan

When Ethan figures out that you've been weighed down by stress for the last little while, his first move is to talk to you, and judge his next move from there

Sometimes just talking to you, having a real and deep conversation about what's going on and what's going through your head, is enough to have a certain weight lifted off of your shoulders

Others, Ethan suggests walks, stupid little outings, or nights in

Ethan would take you to the zoo, or an art museum, or take you to the local supermarket and practically play hide and seek, if what was going needed a distraction and a bit of laughter

On those nights in, Ethan would buy a couple face masks for the two of you, and a bottle of Rose. There would either be a film, or smooth music, or just talking while the masks dried, or while you two snacked on a myriad of small things (grapes, kielbasa, cherry tomatoes, all the sort and all your favourites)

Ethan had magical hands, so massages were always on the menu, and they always relieved any physical tension

The further into the relationship you got, you started just telling Ethan when you were stressed, instead of it being a guessing game, but he got too good at noticing the warning signs, so it got to a point where he would help you work through any stress that may come up, before it came up

Damiano

The superhero

Damiano would relieve your tensions by taking part of your load; helping you study in ways that felt too comfortable to be stressful, doing some of your paperwork, helping you measure ingredients - anything that weighed on you, Damiano would help you with

If it was something he couldn't help bear the burden of, Damiano would opt to sitting you down and having a conversation

These conversations would be over a nice, hot tea, or a perfectly chilled Pinot Grig, with cigarettes in hand and one of Damiano's softer rock records playing softly behind

When the stress would lighten after you cried, you had no shame in crying on Damiano's shoulder, as he always provided you a shoulder to cry on without hesitation or judgement

Damiano would even start making much more balanced meals and having you both sleeping and eating as if you were influencers, on the way to perfect bodies (it would help, despite how funny you felt)

In the end, Damiano always took a piece of your troubles away, to make it that much easier on you

tell me if it sucks <3

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC is Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar

(Lessons 1-5!)

Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 5-6 Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

So we obviously know that things would run a little differently with L!MC instead of a normal human MC, but just how differently do things go?

No Mammon, you are not allowed to babysit!

Unlike in canon, Mammon needs to be kept away from MC at the start. Why? He’s known this kid for less than a day, he’s gonna try and use them for scams.

Everyone else in the house? Well, they’re of... observing MC. This is a first, a half human kid just wandering around the house...

MC and Lucifer, despite their amicable meeting, were in this really awkward beginning stage where they didn’t really know what to do with each other.

“So...” MC resisted the urge to twiddle their thumbs as they followed their father through the halls of the House of Lamentation. This was their home for the next year. It was very grand... and also very creepy in some places. “Where’s my room?”

“Right here.” Lucifer stopped suddenly in front of a door in the hallway, nearly causing MC to crash into him. He opened up the door, the room was very very pink. “Asmodeus decorated, you can redecorate as you see fit.”

MC popped their head in and looked around, there were approximately a thousand pillows scattered around the bed. It was the perfect amount! The very pink colour scheme was... okay. Maybe they’d be able to switch some of it out for a nice blue.

“It’s nice! Thank you,” MC was about to say Lucifer, then father, then just shut their mouth. What were they supposed to call him? They had known each other for like... an hour. He seemed like the type to want to be called father, he was too posh to be ‘dad’ or ‘pops’, and calling their father by his first name seemed way too casual as well... Parental Figure..? Guardian? Sir..? Should they call him sir???

The fact that MC ended their sentence like they were going to continue it left the two in a very awkward silence. A+ job at conversation.

“Anyway,” Lucifer finally broke the silence. “If you need time to settle in, we can pick up the tour later.”

“N-no, it’s okay! I didn’t really bring anything so...” MC was in the middle of mentally cursing themselves out, they thought they had successfully avoided falling into the awkward middle schooler stereotype! “We can keep the tour going.”

“Alright then.” Lucifer turned and motioned for MC to follow. Wow... he was very... curt? Was that the right word to use? MC hoped this was as awkward for him as it was for them.

The next stop was the portrait staircase, Lucifer explained each one down to each minute detail, MC listened in rapt attention.

“We received that one from a painter from the sixth layer of the Devildom, it was quite a rare find.”

“How many layers are there?”

“Nine, we’re in the centre most layer. This is the most highly defended part of the Devildom.” Lucifer explained.

“Oh,” MC smiled. “Cool, so it’s like how Dante described it in the Divine Comedy?”

“Mostly, some changes have been made since that time.”

“Ah, okay.” MC nodded, a thought came to them which made them clear their throat to suppress a giggle. “May I ask a question that might bother you?”

Lucifer turned and raised an eyebrow at them. “You may ask one such question.”

“Why did Dante say you were frozen in an ice lake?”

Lucifer looked around, once he was sure that no one was listening, he turned back to MC, his voice was slightly lower when he answered. “I was ice skating with Lord Diavolo, I fell through the ice and into the lake right as Virgil and Dante arrived. Of course, Dante had to embellish or I’d smite him, if only he left out the ice part.”

To MC’s credit, they didn’t laugh, but they weren’t doing a very good job of hiding how hard it was to not burst into laughter. “Oh my... how upsetting...”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I’d tell you not to tell anyone but,” his lips quirked up into a smile. “No one would believe you if you said anything anyway.”

MC gasped, but the gasp ended up releasing the laugh they were holding in.

The half demon noticed some of the other portraits on the wall, each of the brothers had a portrait, there were two demons that MC didn’t recognize. So that was their family... they wondered if their picture might be on that wall one day...

“Who’s he?” MC pointed at the portrait between Mammon’s and Satan’s.

“That’s Leviathan, the third eldest, the Avatar of Envy, and the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy.”

‘Oooo, so he’s a military guy!’ MC thought to themselves. ‘And the third most powerful brother? Wow... he must be crazy scary...’

“What about him?” MC pointed at the seventh and final portrait.

It may have just been MC’s imagination, but they swore they saw Lucifer’s expression sour slightly.

“That’s Belphegor, the youngest and the Avatar of Sloth.” Lucifer explained. “He is currently in the human world as an exchange student.”

“Oh,” MC studied the portraits a bit more. “Cool! I hope he’s having a good time up there.”

“As do I.” Lucifer replied. “Now we should move on to the Underground-”

“LUCIFER!” Asmodeus cried. “MAMMON’S BEING STUPID AGAIN!”

Lucifer sighed and dragged a gloved hand down his face. “We’ll continue this tour later, MC. Feel free to explore some more, try not to break anything.”

“Because the things might be cursed?”

“That and the things are old and expensive.”

MC spends the rest of the day chilling in the house with Asmo, who peppers MC with ALL the questions.

They does their best to answer... but it’s clear Asmo was hoping for something a little more interesting.

“So, do you run the human world?”

“No. No I do not.”

Finally, Mammon escapes whatever punishment Lucifer’s got him caught up in and tried to get MC involved in something that’ll probably make them lose their money.

Mini HC! A demon’s wings, tail, or horns might pop out randomly if they aren’t paying attention! The demon doesn’t even need to be in their true demonic form for this to happen. It happens more often with younger demons like MC!

Mammon stops his little scheme when he notices that MC’s wings have popped out and left a few stray feathers lying about... he can hear the CHA CHING sound already.

Our favourite dummy tried to Mission Impossible his way into MC’s room but MC caught him trying to make off with some loose feathers after they came back with a dustpan to clean them up.

Eventually, it was dinner time, and Levi was still camped out in his room. Mammon got sent to get him out, and he decided to drag MC along with him.

“I don’t think we should bother him-”

“Sh! We gotta get him out of his stupid room or he’s gonna stay in there until the exchange year’s over.” Mammon snapped, stopping in front of Leviathan’s door.

“I still don’t think we should-”

Mammon rudely interrupted poor, aghast MC by slamming his fists against the door. “LEVI! GET UP! DINNER’S READY!”

The only response was someone increasing the volume on whatever show was playing behind the door. Wow, petty. MC suppressed a snort until they realized exactly what they were hearing.

Was that...

“Is that the Sailor Moon theme?” MC turned to Mammon and asked. The moment the question left their lips the pair heard someone practically bolt to the door. It swung open and hit Mammon right in the face.

“MOTHER FUCKER-”

“You!”

Ah, so this was the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy. MC didn’t know that track pants and headphones were a part of the uniform.

“You like anime?!” Levi asked, MC slowly nodded.

“Y-yeah..?”

Quick as lightning, MC was pulled into the room, and Levi slammed the door shut, tragically, the door hit Mammon again.

“LEVI YOU ASS-”

Leviathan didn’t seem too interested in Mammon’s chorus of curse words and angry knocks, he was grabbing some figurines off shelves and showing some to MC.

“Do you know who this is?!”

“That’s White Blood Cell from Cells at Work. What about Mamm-”

“How about this!”

“Violet Evergarden from the show of the same name, now Levia-”

“Whose this?!”

“LEVIATHAN!” MC stomped their foot and pointed at the door. “Mammon said we need to go eat dinner.”

“Don’t interrupt me, human!” Levi hissed, MC rolled their eyes and snorted.

“Nice to meet you, by the way.” MC crossed their arms and let their wings appear and puff up behind them.

“...w-whu-WHAT?!”

“We have to go to-” MC was cut off yet again by Levi passing out. Wow... what a day...

Mammon was still pounding on the door, MC rolled their eyes and opened it.

“He passed out, can you carry him?”

Mammon was decidedly not careful with his dear little brother when he dragged him out of his room and into the dining room. When Levi finally woke up, he got an earful from Lucifer, and tried to kill Mammon.

Apparently money was owed that Mammon wasn’t about to pay.

So yeah, MC and Levi’s alliance did not stem from desperation, it stems from otaku-camaraderie.

MC and Levi planned their credit-card hostage situation over a fun evening of watching anime.

Mammon never knew what hit him...

“Okay Mammon, pay up or your credit card gets cut up.” MC playfully opened and closed the scissors before poising them to cut up the helpless credit card. Mammon let out a shriek and shook his head.

“NONONONONO- don’t do that!” Mammon put his hands up and let out a nervous laugh. “MC... wh-what’s with all the animosity..? We’re buddies, right?”

MC snorted and rolled their eyes. “Buddies don’t try and make money off each other’s feathers.”

“You heard them, Mammon.” Levi snickered. “Pay me back the money you owe me!”

“I don’t have the money right now!”

MC shook their head. “Pity... oh well, bye bye Goldie-”

“The money’s in my sock drawer- just please put the scissors down!”

They slowly lowered the scissors. “What do you think, Levi?”

“Hmmm... you have two minutes.” Levi said, Mammon took off in a sprint out of the kitchen.

“Nice job Agent L!” MC chirped, holding their hand out for a high five, Levi looked positively elated and gleefully hit his hand against MC’s.

“We did it! I’m finally going to have enough money to go to the live show! Couldn’t have done it without your help, Agent Near.”

“Wait- why am I Near?” MC asked. “You get to be L and I have to be Near?”

Levi crossed his arms and huffed. “Would you rather be Mellow?”

“No! I want to be Light! We agreed that I’d be Light!” MC hissed. Levi, literally hissed back.

Rude.

Anyway, Levi got paid, and everyone had a very entertaining breakfast. Well, Mammon didn’t have a very good time, but boo hoo he should have paid Levi back sooner.

I think MC felt legitimately bad for Mammon, all the insults and jabs being aimed at him made MC feel a little guilty...

MC took care to be extra sweet that day, and it made Mammon feel a bit better. You know what made both of them feel amazing?

Screwing with the dipshits that were talking crap about the two of them.

MC didn’t need super-hearing to notice that some of the demons at RAD found it to be peak comedy that Mammon got slapped with babysitting duty.

“...do you want to mess with them?”

“What?”

“Too late, I’m doing it with or without you.”

Mammon was totally in, obviously. A little magic to move some of the lesser demons’ things around and voila! They were all at each other’s throats and Mammon and MC got to enjoy a fun lunchtime show!

The Purgatory Hall crew got to meet MC too, of course!

“And this,” Lucifer gestured to MC. “Is the other human exchange student.”

MC popped up from behind one of the rows of desks and gave the three newcomers a toothy grin. “Nice to meet you!”

Simeon’s calm and serene expression dropped almost immediately as he quickly looked from Lucifer to MC. The latter just gave him an innocent smile and tilted their head.

“Is something the matter?” MC asked, through the corner of their eye they saw Lucifer smirk slightly.

“N...” Simeon snapped back to reality. “No, nothing’s the matter, it’s nice to meet you, MC.”

“You awful demons!” A much younger voice yapped. “You brought a human child down here?! Shame on you!”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I’m overwhelmed with guilt, put me out of my misery.”

“Oh!” MC gasped. “You’re the chihuahua!”

“Wh-what?!”

“What?” MC shook their head and shrugged. “What’s the matter with me being a kid? You look like you’re ten.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m well over-”

“Am I just going to go ignored?” The third and final stranger asked, a cheeky/very suspicious looking grin on his face.

“Right, you.” Lucifer sighed. “This is Solomon, another human exchange student.”

“It’s nice to finally meet the other... human exchange student.” Solomon offered a nod.

“Likewise.” MC pretended not to notice the pause before he said human.

The first bell that meant “haul your ass to next period because if the cleaning staff finds you skipping class you will be maimed” sounded. MC slung their bag over their shoulder and brushed past their fellow students.

“Have a nice rest of your day, everyone!” MC chirped as they and Lucifer headed off to their next class.

“What do you stand to gain by pretending you aren’t my child?” Lucifer asked.

MC snickered. “It’s funny! Didn’t you see their faces?”

Lucifer half smiled and shook his head. “Perhaps.”

—————

“That kid is Lucifer’s.” Solomon said the moment Lucifer and MC were out of earshot.

“Oh thank heavens someone else saw too... I thought I was going crazy...” Simeon sighed in relief.

“Hey! We’ll be late to class if you guys don’t hurry!” Luke called from down the hall.

Solomon chuckled under his breath. “This whole year just got way more interesting...”

A lot of MC’s time got devoted to getting to know their newly found family.

Satan was proving to be very... polite? Almost weirdly so? He’d address MC like he would address a formal acquaintance, not like one would address a family member... or even a roommate.

MC tried the delicate dance of trying to respect his boundaries and trying to get him to like them...

Once the glasses incident happened everything kinda caved. MC had been quite rudely shunned by Satan and they were quite done trying to be his friend! Hmph!

...hmph :(

At least Beel was nice... despite MC being a little intimidated by his size and resting bitch face, MC soon found out that Beel was a massive cinnamon roll.

In return for all the snacks Beel shared with MC, they introduced him to at least five human world cooking shows.

“MC, why is the music so dramatic? They’re just revealing the cooking supplies.”

“It’s a reality TV thing... everything is 10 times more dramatic than it needs to be. The music’s doing its job though, I’m very impressed by that pie dish.”

Overall, MC’s first week at RAD was pretty decent! Until... well... until Friday.

MC could only hide their demonic side for so long...

“That’s them?”

MC slowed their steps and turned to look for the source of the voice.

“Yep.” A second voice confirmed. “Human kid, like I said.”

Ugh... of all the times to have needed to stay late after school... the hallway MC was in was completely empty and they had no clue where anyone they actually knew was-

“Boo.”

MC whirled around to see the two gossiping demons standing right behind them. They instinctively took a few steps back before the taller of the two demons grabbed them by the wrist and yanked them forward.

“Geez, are all humans this tiny?” The taller one asked as he slowly lifted MC off the ground. MC fixed him with the nastiest glare possible, he tried to scowl back, but ended up looking away and laughing to the shorter demon. “Look at them, barely enough for a snack, no wonder Beel hasn’t eaten them yet.”

Turning to the shorter demon, MC gave them a similar glare. “Put me down.”

“Tsk, quiet.” The taller demon snapped, he turned back to the shorter demon. “So if we just nab them now, how much do you think someone’ll take for their soul?”

“I-uh...” the shorter demon couldn’t pry their gaze away from MC’s as they tried to sputter a response. “I don’t think we should...”

“Why not? The exchange program’s still in its trial phase anyway, we kill this human and they’ll just bring in another one.”

The way he was speaking about them made MC’s skin crawl. How dare he? How dare he talk about them like they were just common trash? Who did this... person think he was?

An old familiar feeling bubbled beneath the surface. It had always been there, the intense, sometimes overwhelming desire to let the whole world know that they were better. The feeling coiled its way up MC’s spine and wormed its way into their head where it settled.

“You can’t be spoken to like that.”

Every single time this feeling had flared up, MC had done their best to suppress it. They didn’t know what would happen if they gave in, and frankly, they didn’t want to know.

“Let them know you’re not to be trifled with.”

The burning desire to crush the two demons like ants was almost impossible to ignore. MC felt their hands twitch and sparks snap between their fingertips.

“I’m not going to tell you again,” MC growled. “Put. Me. Down.”

“Human,” the taller demon turned back and cooed, his mocking tone made MC want to rip his throat out. “I said be quiet.”

His grip on MC’s wrist tightened until a sickening crack echoed through the empty hallway.

Bile immediately rose in MC’s throat as they let out an earsplitting scream. Their wrist seared in pain and their heart began to race hammer against their ribcage.

The desire to give in only grew and became harder to control, MC could feel themselves slipping. The feeling only had one simple question to ask, one that MC knew the answer to.

“Are you going to let them get away with that?”

Their face morphed into a cheek splitting grin despite the pain, their head tilted to the left as they stared down the two demons.

“No.”

Horns twisted and burst out of their skull as they dug their rapidly sharpening nails into the demon’s arm. Their teeth grew and sharpened while formerly hidden fangs burst through their upper gums. The agonizing pain of their bones growing, snapping, and shifting in and out of place as their demonic form took hold for the first time numbed as MC revelled in their new power.

Through the reflection in the taller demon’s horrified stare, MC could see their pupils stretch into almost catlike slits. He dropped them onto the floor while he and the shorter demon backed up. MC’s impossibly wide smile only grew as they watched the realization dawn upon the lesser demon as he stitched together what he had just done. The human he had decided to bother wasn’t quite so human after all.

“Oh?” MC cooed as their wings split through their back and unfurled behind them. “Where do you think you two are going? We haven’t even gotten started yet.”

—————

Lucifer was jolted from his conversation by a sharp blast of blue light and the sound of screams from a nearby hallway. He instinctively rolled his eyes.

“Lord Diavolo, pardon me but I need to go deal with a disturbance in the halls.” Lucifer said, Diavolo sighed mournfully on the other end of the call.

“Alright, if you must, but make sure to come over later! There are events that need to be scheduled.”

Lucifer knew full well that Diavolo was making half of the school events up as an excuse for basic social interaction. Oh well, it wasn’t the time to think on his prince’s social woes, he had a problem to solve.

How many times did he have to tell some of those idiotic students to take their petty squabbles outside?

Lucifer made his way over to where the fight was happening, he wasn’t walking with particular urgency, a fight on school property wasn’t too unusual, until a massive shockwave spilled through the hallways and slammed into him.

The Avatar of Pride felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up, that was his magical signature... wasn’t it? No, it was just different enough...

“Dammit.” Lucifer doubled his pace, when he reached the end of the hallway, the sight was just what he feared.

MC stood straight in the middle of the hallway with their back to him, two other demons were lying in crumpled heaps on the ground, one was next to an incredibly dented row of lockers while the other was lying next to an almost completely broken drinking fountain.

Lucifer’s own true form was out in a flash as MC turned to look at him. their eyes glowing a shining blue. Their lips curled into a snarl as they let out an otherworldly growl.

“Go away.”

“MC, calm yourself down.” Lucifer said slowly as he approached them. “Return to your normal form.”

The half demon bowed their head slightly and took a few steps back as he stepped closer. Lucifer almost patted himself on the back for such a show of authority, until MC paused and looked up defiantly. The glow in their eyes doubled as any sense of fear left them completely.

“I said, GO AWAY!”

They lunged at him, which he easily sidestepped, only for MC to quickly turn and latch their claws into his arm.

The child packed a surprising amount of force into their strikes, but he was able to block and redirect almost every single one. If this were any normal fight, Lucifer would have just swatted them away and have been done with it, but this wasn’t any ordinary opponent.

MC was his child, the exchange student, and going through their first transformation. They weren’t exactly rational or directly responsible for any of their actions at that moment.

During a first transformation the demon is almost completely relying on base instincts to function, they’ll go completely ballistic for a while, trying to tear through anything in their way until they run out of energy and pass out. Which is why during a demon’s first transformation usually happened much earlier in their lives under the watchful eyes of parents or guardians.

It was clear to anyone with even casual knowledge of demons that MC had fully given themselves over to their pride and wouldn’t stop trying to prove their superiority until they passed out.

Even though Lucifer was blocking and avoiding most of the blows, MC had managed to get in a few good scratches.

They snapped at Lucifer’s right hand, narrowly missing it and aimed their elbow at his jaw. Almost casually batting the hit away, he hissed in frustration.

“Damn it... MC, control yourself!”

MC snarled and sloppily lunged forward, only for Lucifer to use his wings to bat them to the side. They slid across the floor, their glasses falling off and skidding away from them. MC lay still for a few moments, their chest rising and falling rapidly.

Lucifer stood in place, waiting for any sudden movement. For a few moments, the hallway was quiet, save for the massive gulps of air MC was taking and the occasional groan of pain from one of the demons on the floor. MC slowly sat up and blinked a few times, then looked from side to side.

Something important dawned on Lucifer, he didn’t know just how blind MC was without their glasses.

MC’s rapid breathing began to slow as they continued to squint and search the area around them for their glasses. Lucifer almost audibly sighed in relief as the blue glow in his child’s eyes began to dull.

“MC.” Lucifer allowed his demon form to disappear as he slowly moved towards them, making sure MC could hear him approaching.

The half demon stopped scanning the area for their glasses and looked up at him, they awkwardly covered a yawn with their hand as their wings sleepily fluttered behind them. It would have been much cuter if MC wasn’t spattered with blood.

Lucifer slowly offered his hand, which MC eyed suspiciously. “Come on, let’s go.”

MC blinked a few times, then yawned again and awkwardly accepted his hand. “Mmph... m’tired...”

“That’s good,” Lucifer said quietly. “Everything’s okay.”

MC half nodded and awkwardly stumbled as they tried to find their footing. Lucifer tried to help steady them, but it proved ineffective as MC collapsed into his arms. Sighing, he picked them up and began to walk back to the House of Lamentation.

Just before leaving the school, Lucifer passed by Simeon and Solomon, who looked from MC, who had curled their wings around themselves and was sleeping soundly, to Lucifer, who had a few scratch marks on his face and whose hair was a complete mess.

“Ah, you two, one of you do me a favour.” Lucifer said as he brushed past them. “One of you go to the biology hallway and pick up MC’s glasses.”

Simeon and Solomon nodded and mumbled out an affirmation as Lucifer left the school with MC. Hmph, it seemed MC was right, their confused/shocked faces were quite funny.

MC woke up the next morning with the worst muscle pain they had ever and hopefully would ever feel. On the bright side, their wrist wasn’t broken anymore :D

They had literally built their true form. Their skeleton just stretched and rearranged itself, horns grew out from their cranium, their wings broke through their back and a new set of fangs decided to break through their gums... and then all of that new stuff was gone as MC lay in bed in their normal form like a deflated beach ball.

Not wanting to seem like a wimp, MC dragged themselves to breakfast, and everyone was all: “MC, go back to bed, you can’t do anything when you’re like this.”

“Quiet, I’m fine.”

“MC, if you’re fine, then give Beel a high five, make sure it makes the slap sound.”

“Alright then, Beel, come here.”

Beel didn’t exactly think to take MC’s shorter stature into account when holding up his hand for a high five. He’s tall, okay?

MC then proceeded to grit their teeth and try not to scream as they lifted their arm to weakly hit their hand against Beel’s.

“It made the noise..!”

“No it didn’t, I didn’t hear it.”

“Fatherrrr!”

“Couldn’t hear it, go back upstairs.”

When MC trudged upstairs, Asmo practically squealed and pointed out that MC had called Lucifer father for the first time. It’s a shame no one took a picture of happy/surprised Lucifer.

Side note: after the whole event calmed down, Lucifer was crazy proud that his kid kicked the asses of two grown demons.

Funnily enough, this incident is what kickstarted MC and Luke’s friendship! Luke heard MC got into a fight and brought over get-well cookies! Sure... Beel, Mammon and Levi stole most of the cookies but they were still good!

At school on Monday... hooooooo boy... the two demons that tried to kill MC had lived to tell the tale thanks to MC getting distracted by Lucifer, and now the entire student body knew NOT to fuck with MC.

A few weeks into the exchange year, things had settled into a somewhat normal routine... until one really shitty night in particular.

MC was curled up in bed, their new comforter and sheets were a pain to put in, but they suited MC’s taste much better than the pink that had been there previously. Sighing in contentment, MC felt themselves drifting off to sleep-

Mother fucker who was texting at the ungodly hour of 10:30 pm on a Sunday? ‘Twas the lord’s day and the lord of the house stated that everyone needed to get their asses to bed at a reasonable hour.

MC picked up their phone and put on their glasses. After being blinded by the light of the phone for a brief moment, MC read the text.

Not-Rich Uncle Pennybags 💰🕶: Oi! MC! U want a snack?

Not-Rich Uncle Pennybags💰🕶: I’m in the kitchen! Get down here!

After debating whether or not to throw Mammon to the wolves and rat him out, MC decided that they did in fact want a snack and hopped out of bed to go to the kitchen.

“Hey kiddo!” Mammon said through a mouthful of something in a container, a loose note hung limply from a piece of tape that was stuck on the Tupperware. “Next time, hurry it up, got it? Ya can’t keep me waitin’ like this!”

“Mm...” MC grumbled, rubbing their eyes and looking around the kitchen. “What are you eating?”

“Custard!” Mammon smiled brightly. “Ya gotta try this!”

Oooo, custard! MC grabbed a spoon and practically skipped over to try some. Right before they were about to try a bit of the heavenly deliciousness, MC paused and finally caught a glimpse of what the note said.

‘Property of Beelzebub, you eat it, you die.’

Uh oh-

———————

Okay, the next few bits of this WILL come out in order, I promise! Kinda... not really... eh... but it matters not! I hope you all enjoyed this! I didn’t leave you with a cliffhanger this time considering Lessons 5-6 are already out ^_^

So uh- wanna fight the demons that tried to hurt MC? I’m bringing the pitchforks, who’s driving?

[persimmonteas]

take a good look

4 times you gaze at him + 1 time he gazes at you

fic cowritten with @shinaus​, art by @annypuff​ <3. you can buy mel a coffee and anny a coffee. please support them! their work is banging and i love them 🥺 

pairing: vampire!shinso x f!reader

word count: ~4.5k

genre: slice of life fantasy (a tinge of coffee shop!AU), fluff, mutual pining, smut

cw: dom!shinso, size kink, daddy kink (inspired by toshi anon), praise kink, some degradation (he says slut 3x), fingerfucking, nipple play, choking, hair pulling, mirror sex, mating press, hickies everywhere, a cunt slap, overstimulation

first time: the coffee shop incident 

Of course your favorite coffee shop is swamped. This place is the only good thing about waking up close to dawn, with drinks always better than what your office has to offer and not to mention the pastries they make fresh.

Letting out a small groan, you decide to wait it out in the line and do your best to hurry with your breakfast before heading into work. Thankfully, you always leave yourself with enough time to actually sit and enjoy whatever you decide to buy that day, opting for it over greasy break rooms or stuffy smoking areas. 

Once the warm mug is in hand, you make quick work to try and find your usual spot only to find it occupied. While you won’t act possessive over a public seat of all things, losing the chance to enjoy glancing out the window and munching down your croissant seems to screw with your brain. 

You act without thinking, making a sharp turn to go sit somewhere else only for your knee to make contact with the underside of another table. Shit, you think to yourself, hearing the clatter of their cup. You helplessly watch liquid run down the table and into the person’s lap. 

You expect them to flinch, dart up from the table or, hell, even yell at you for your carelessness. He doesn’t yell at you and you don’t expect to see the colour of the liquid running down the table onto the floor to be red. Blood red. Fuck. A vampire. Hopefully, one who doesn’t eat you for your stupidity.

Just as you feel your heart sinking down to your stomach, your eyes flick up to meet the man whose day you likely ruined. You don’t see a hint of anger on his attractive features. In his defence, it’s probably because he’s busy looking at the way you’re gawking at him.

His unkempt hair and the deep eye bags adorning his sculpted face somehow make him look all the more endearing. It even looks like he’s wearing the smallest hint of eyeliner. Or are his eyes just naturally like that? Hard to tell. 

You’re pulled out of your thoughts (and staring session) by him breaking eye contact with you to clean himself up, before rising to his feet and doing the same to the table. It makes you come back down to Earth, and thereby remembering your clownery

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—” you start, but are met with a hand held up in front of your face. You furrow your brows in confusion, having assumed his lack of aggression would mean he’d be more understanding but nope.

“No issue,” he grumbles in response, giving his trousers one last wipe down before swiftly weaving through the others in the coffee shop, flipping his hoodie up and taking his leave. Now, you’re even more confused. 

Sure, you spilled something over him and the table, but you would have bought him another one? Paid for his dry cleaning or something maybe? Yet, off he went, moving so quickly you couldn’t ever hope to catch up to him. Fucking vampires, man, you shake your head.

The confusion eventually fades but not completely. You help one of the baristas doing the last of the clean up before settling into the strange vampire’s seat and letting your mind wander as you eat your breakfast. 

second time: gawking at the gym

It’s a common occurrence for you to make it to the gym right as the rush of 9-5s ends, the perfect time in your opinion. Nobody hogging any of the ellipticals, the water cooler always left unoccupied and nothing but time for you to get through your usual routine.

With this in mind, you can confidently say that nothing out of the ordinary ever happens at the gym. Well, could say. 

Carefully bringing your leg around to meet the other on your way off of the exercise bike, you're momentarily distracted by the sound of a nearby treadmill whirring so much hard that it sounds as though it may break. 

Lifting your towel and water bottle, you make your way over in curiosity. It almost seems as if whoever is on the treadmill moves even faster as you approach. Once you make it there, you’re met with the man who seems to be continuously haunting your surroundings. 

Despite his unruly purple hair in a band and all-black gym attire, vamp man still seems out of place. The athletic wear is a complete change of pace, considering the hoodie and leather jacket he was wearing during your first encounter. 

You rid yourself of any wandering thoughts about the man and focus on him being the reason that the treadmill is about to be on its last legs. You can’t bring yourself to look away from him; the sheer speed of his legs is mindblowing.  And a little ridiculous looking if you’re honest with yourself.

The moment is short lived when he slows to a stop, probably thinking the same thing that you are about the poor machine not being able to last another mile. He looks like he’s barely broken a sweat. Fucking vampires, you repeat to yourself.  

Just your luck, he notices your presence as he dabs the side of his not-even-sweating face with his towel. He begins to smirk at your eyes on him. 

“Little rude to stare, isn’t it?” he wonders aloud, voice much deeper and more luxurious than what you remember. Getting caught fills you with deep embarrassment. You stutter out a quick apology before making your way over to another machine. 

Even with your back facing away from any passing people as you continue your routine, you can practically feel his eyes boring into you.

A few minutes is all it takes for you to turn to check if your suspicions are correct. You’re met with his shameless stare. He’s not even making an attempt to hide his gaze either, leaning on one of the back walls as he watches you, large arms crossed over his broad chest somehow making the skin-tight shirt he’s wearing even tighter. 

This is torture, you think to yourself as you give him a polite smile, only to hear him chuckling at your strained smile.

“What? So you can stare but I can’t?” he tries, fully getting your attention once more as you stop what you’re doing. Sighing and smacking your machine, you come off of your machine and make your way back over to him.

Your confidence about approaching decreases as you see the full height difference between you two. You’re a fair bit smaller than he is. He looms over you even with his back still leaning against the wall.

“If you’re trying to stalk me, you’re doing a bad job. It should be me, after all. I’m the predator,” he lightly mocks you. 

You almost stomp your foot. “I am not stalking you!” you protest. “It isn’t my fault that you apparently go to the same coffee shop and gym as me.” 

He levels you with a delighted look. Humans usually don’t take his teasing well but you seem so much fun.

Throwing an annoyed peace sign at him, you make your way out of the gym.

third time: literally just that scene in the first twilight movie without edward doing donuts in his car into the lot

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out at this time?” The low voice comes from your side, making every muscle in your body suddenly jolt. You just left your friends. Why do creeps seem to have a radar?

Even as you pick up your pace and ignore the question, it only seems to egg him on more. Right as he starts talking to you again, he’s swiftly cut off.

Feeling a small gust of wind at your back despite the calm night, you turn in confusion. Where did the creep go? Your question is answered when you watch him get slammed against the nearest storefront’s shutters. A much taller figure overshadows over him, hand around the creep’s throat. 

Even in the darkness, you can see the purple hair, unruly as ever starting from the collar of his coat. You stride over and pull on Shinso’s coat sleeve in hopes of ceasing his threatening actions—no matter how much the creep deserves the vampire’s ire. After all, you don’t want Shinso to end up with a track record after, like, a century (you’re guessing) without one.

“Shinso,” you say, eyes pleading as you look up at him—unaware of how much he enjoys hearing you so naturally say his name. He meets your stare briefly then rolls his eyes and releases his hold, watching the man scramble away. The chuckle that leaves him at the scene makes you wonder if he’s a sadist. 

Before you can wonder much more, he grips your hand tightly in his own as he leads you farther down the street. The clasp strangely comforting to you despite his freezing skin.

“You really need to stop being so irresponsible,” he tells you, tone almost mocking as he (somehow) takes every right path to your apartment building. There’s no point in questioning how he knows this. After all, for some reason, the world keeps leading you to him in an array of coincidences that are starting to feel less and less coincidental. 

When you let out a scoff, his hand seems to tighten further and you reflexively try to yank your hand away. He just stops in his tracks and turns to face you. There’s a look in his eyes you don’t question, especially since he speaks up before you do. 

“Don’t make me have to watch your every move to keep you out of trouble, I’d like to have a social life too, you know,” he grumbles, before turning to walk away. It leaves you a little dumbfounded to say the least, since you’re not exactly stopping him from having a life. Y’know, with, how totally unplanned these encounters are and all.

fourth time: the confrontation

Apparently, not one thing can be your own anymore. Not that you’re complaining, of course, but the sheer number of coincidences between you and Shinso is extraordinary and only seems to escalate. You keep running into him even in places so busy that you think there’s no chance of running into anybody you know. 

Now that Autumn is in full swing, the nights are colder and the leaves are dappled in brown and red shades. The perfect time to start going on walks through some of the bustling parks you live near. 

You love the scenery, especially the large lake that lies in the middle of your favorite park. As dusk rolls around, you take the chance to get a walk in to enjoy the now barely visible sunlight and to ponder a certain vampire. 

Not even one lap into walking around the lake, you catch sight of the colour that’s been plaguing your thoughts in your peripheral. 

The deep indigo colour is hard to miss, especially when it’s on the head of the vampire you keep running into. Though this time feels a little different since you finally catch him when he’s unaware of you.

Sitting on one of the benches facing the water, he’s wearing his typical hoodie and leather jacket and is holding what looks to be a book. What kind of book a vampire reads is beyond your imagination. 

All you know is that you finally have the opportunity to take the upper hand. Every time you see Shinso, he worms his way out of your questions. Or he leaves in an ominous distinctly vampire fashion.

There’s no reason for him to be everywhere you go, unless ... You want to confirm your hypothesis. 

The plan is simple. You’ll act like you're still out on your casual walk and you’ll walk up to the bench and sit down in a non-suspicious way. You nod to yourself. Perfect, flawless plan. 

It shockingly works … his book must be really good. You get all the way up to the bench without him acknowledging you. Since he’s only taking up one side, you don’t wait for verbal permission to sit down alongside him.

He still makes no indication that he notices you. His eyes never leave the book he has in his hands. You fixate your eyes on the silver ring on his index finger as he flicks through the pages. 

You lean in close and try to keep your smugness about finally startling him from bleeding into your voice when you speak. 

“You know, I’m starting to think you’re conveniently everywhere I go on purpose.”

For the first time ever, he’s the one caught off guard. Shinso flinches away from you and brings his eyes to meet yours. Without his signature smirk or witty comments, he simply gets up to take his leave. 

Well. This certainly isn’t going the way you want.

After your many encounters, you can pick up on his overall mood through his reactions to you. Though, he’s never reacted like this. At least not since the incident at the coffee shop.

The dismissal ignites irritation in you. Why is up to him whether or not you interacted? Taking the opportunity while you still have it, you follow him. 

It isn’t until he passes a large tree just off of the main path that you completely catch up to him. You realize he’ll easily slip away if you don’t move quickly. So you do, hand coming up to hit the tree trunk and essentially blocking his way. 

His eyes widen at you. However, he makes no attempt at escaping. 

“Why do we keep running into each other?” you ask with exasperation, eyes still on him as he moves to lean against the tree. You don’t move your hand, using it to grasp some control of the situation.

“You’re everywhere I go, it doesn’t matter where or when. You’re always there.” The rant is far from needed for him, he knows this already. But, you keep going. 

“What is this? Were we lovers in a past life or something? Do you have some unresolved feelings?” The way you’re rambling makes you impossibly endearing to him. His classic chuckle slipping out stops you in your tracks.

“Nothing of the sort,” he curtly replies. You cross your arms over your chest at his usual demeanor returning. “No such thing as reincarnated soulmates, at least with what I’ve experienced in my lifetime. Though, the feelings department…” As he continues, he leans closer to you. So much so you can almost feel his breath on your face and smell his warm, spicy cologne. 

“Is there a problem if I do have feelings for you?”

You blink at him. What? You don’t think you’ve ever been so caught off guard.. Feelings? Is that what this has all been about? 

Every previous encounter begins to run through your head and you start picking out small things that back up his statement. The lingering stares, teasing words, protective nature. You groan and drag your hands down your face. Man, you didn’t pick up on any of his hints. He must think you’re an idiot. 

Before you can give him an answer, he pushes off the tree, standing over you at full height. Assuming he’s about to attempt to leave once more, you’re surprised to see him turning back in the direction of the bench. When you make no effort to move, he reaches out and pulls you by your coat until his hand is in yours. 

“I’ll take that as not a problem.” A smirk still on his face due to you indirectly feeding his ego. 

Although, now walking beside him, you don’t miss the way his free hand reaches up to rub at the back of his neck. A gesture you recognise as one of his nervous tics. Did you do that to him? You grin at the idea that you make the great vampire feel that way.

“There’s a scooter rental place down by this side of the lake.” His voice brings you out of your thoughts, realising he’s been trying to hold eye contact with you. “I’ll make a deal with you, if you let me take you out on a ride around the lake, I’ll answer any questions you have, deal?”

The way he’s practically bargaining with you makes you want to laugh, but you keep your face neutral as you agree to his offer. Who turns down taking a romantic scooter ride with a hot vampire? Nobody. 

Of course, he takes any opportunity to tease you, so he rents a smaller scooter so you have to cling onto him.

You don’t complain though. How can you as you enjoy feeling his back muscles flex? Not to mention, he keeps his promise and answers any and every question you have about himself or his past. And, wow, he has an interesting and long past. 

As the sky turns dark and drips stars, you’re left with a feeling rising in your chest that you certainly don’t reject and with the hope of meeting him again—on purpose, this time. A planned event seems likely as you clutch the torn-out blank page of his book with his phone number scribbled across it in your fist.

one time: he gazes at you

“Hitoshi. You already have better night vision than me. This is so extra!” you protest, stumbling through the dark apartment as your vampiric boyfriend maneuvers you to ... his room, you think. 

Hitoshi just rubs soothing circles on your back and you just know the fucker is smirking. You hear the light click on. 

“You can take the blindfold off.” 

Tugging the blindfold off, you stare at the new object Hitoshi bought for his room. 

“Baby, this is a mirror.” 

He nods while leaning against his bed, looking infuriatingly pretty per usual. 

“You can’t even see yourself in a mirror. Why?” You arch an eyebrow in Hitoshi’s direction, trying to explain your absolute bafflement at his purchase. 

“In case you’re here and want to check yourself out.”  

You see nothing but innocence plastered on his facial expression but did you trust it? No. 

A mindblowing second later, he stands in front of you, caressing your face with calloused, cold hands. A nice contrast to the sweltering temperature in his room he set for you. Hitoshi leans in to kiss you, gentle but firm. Your hands go up to fist his shirt as he intensifies the kiss. 

He slides his hands down your cheek to stroke your lip and then slowly skims down your body.  

“It would be a great idea to take this off,” he whispers, playing with the hem of your shirt. 

You eagerly nod as he strips you out of your shirt and pants. Awareness of his plans finally clicks when he turns you to face the mirror. 

The remark on the tip of your tongue dies when Hitoshi rolls your nipples through the thin lace of your bra. You arch into his touch as he gently pinches and pulls them. God, your panties are already drenched and nipples hard. 

“Fuck,” you moan as Hitoshi slides your panties to the side. Letting you lean against his corded chest, he hitches one of your legs off the floor. 

“Go on, spread yourself open. Let me see how wet your slutty cunt is,” he murmurs into your ear. 

You hard swallow as you spread your glistening lips open for him, strands of your arousal clinging to your fingers when you pull them away. Hitoshi digs his hand into your thigh.

“Did I tell you to stop?” He sounds amused as he uses his other hand to pull your hair by the roots.

“No, no, daddy, I’m sorry,” you apologize and move your hand back to where it belongs. 

“Good girl, look at yourself. Wrecked without even being fucked.” You stare at yourself in the mirror with a half-lidded gaze. He’s right. With your heaving chest and puffy, soaked pussy, you look like you’ve been railed. But instead, you continue to spread open your aching pussy for your fully clothed boyfriend.

“Daddy, daddy, please touch me,” you plead as you grind against his hard bulge, desperate for any kind of friction. 

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” If you were any more lucid, you’d have smacked Hitoshi for his lilting tease. 

“Aren’t I always a good girl,” you whine, hands clambering at his thighs. 

He chuckles at that, kissing your head before somehow gracefully crumpling to the ground with you in his lap. In a blink, he has you spread out in his lap as he plays with your clit. He slides a thick finger inside your tiny cunny as he grazes your shoulder with his canines.

“Look at you,” he coos. “You look so good like this, my darling little slut.” 

You don’t even have a retort, too enraptured by the sight of Hitoshi fingerfucking your sopping cunt with his invisible hand. The way your cunt opens for him and gapes in the mirror spellbinding for both of you.

You moan as your hips jerk up. There’s not much more he loves than how your lips part and your legs shake at how he strokes his finger inside of you. 

“More,” you beg. How can he resist your dazed expression? 

“Such a needy baby,” he tsks as he scissors you open with another finger. 

Another strum of your clit and pinch of your nipple and you’re gone, eyes squeezing shut. Your juices surely ruining his pants as you writhe in his lap. 

He cradles your cheek and then grips your chin to turn you back to the mirror. 

“Look at yourself, pretty girl. Such a fucked out mess.” 

You gaze at the bruises blooming over your shoulders and down your neck and shudder, pleased. The aftershocks of your orgasm leave you warm as you languidly suck your juices off Hitoshi’s fingers.  

“Toshi!” you squeal as he gently deposits you on his bed and pulls his clothes off. The bed is purely decorative and for you considering he doesn’t sleep. Although, even with a bed, you guys still fuck over every surface in his apartment. 

Your sensitivity protests fall to deaf ears as he bends your knees to your chest. This time, Hitoshi is the one to spread you open. He slaps your cunt and you claw at the sheets. Pumping two fingers slowly in and out of you, he uses his other hand to roughly pull down your bra.

His chapped lips wrapping around your nipple and cold fingers groping your other breast feel overwhelming. Hitoshi cages you in, sucking wet kisses over your tits, leaving you no room to evade his overstimulation as you squirm to get away from his fingers fucking up into you. 

Your sore nipples and cunt get a moment of reprieve as he moves down to concentrate on marking bites all over your plush thighs. Instantly, you miss being full. 

When he passes your empty, clenching cunt for the third time to suck bruises on your inner thighs, you burst. 

“Daddy, please, please, fuck me!” 

Hitoshi trails kisses up your heated skin to your throat, laving over the hickies he left.

“Beautiful,” he croons as he finally positions his tip against your hole and pushes in. The praise and stretch make you whine. He stills as your tiny cunt clenches around him. Your warm, drenched walls wrapping around his cock makes him toss his head back in pleasure. 

“My patient good girl,” he groans, pulling at your nipples. 

“Fuck—more, daddy, more,” you curse as you squirm, your hips rocking up to meet his shallow thrusts. He doesn’t reply and grazes his fangs over your pulse point as he holds your hips down. 

Your breath hitches—and he abruptly pulls back.

“Did my baby think I was going to bite her?” Hitoshi gives you a lazy smirk as he keeps his vexingly slow pace, watching his cock drag in and out of your creaming cunt. 

His large hand wrapping around your neck makes you squeak and suddenly tighten around him. Your favorite necklace. Knowing he’s using an insignificant fraction of his strength to please you makes your eyes roll back as your breath stutters.

“That’s it, cum for me, pretty girl.” Hitoshi starts a punishing pace as he strokes your clit with his free hand. His dark eyes never leave his hand wrapped around your throat, your ravishing lightheaded face and your bouncing tits. Hitoshi’s furrowed expression as he drags his tongue over his canines in concentration makes you whimper. 

You buck against him, gushing around him and crying out his name.

The way you cum so prettily for him has Hitoshi hissing your name in your ear as he thrusts deep into your spasming cunt, chasing his own release. Intertwining his hands with yours, he presses you into the mattress to pin you down. Before long, his orgasm washes over him. 

You gaze contentedly at Hitoshi as he pulls out, feeling empty already—and then you realize. 

“Hitoshi! I swear to god if I look like a grape again,” you threaten as you try to stand up to head to the bathroom. 

You don’t even take a step before he whisks you into his bathroom, laughing at you and kissing your forehead. 

Well. You suppose looking like a grape isn’t that bad.

[spiderlilyserendipity]

omg violet you write so well!! if you can, could you write a taehyung nsfw of while on vacation, tae's girlfriend wakes him up early with kisses and promises to do "whatever he wants" if he gets up with her and explores the city and tae holds her to that promise when they get back to their hotel starting with some steamy (private) hot tub sex?

Anon, you are awesome but you have ruined my brain. I got so carried away writing this fic, it is double the size I thought it would be. Many thoughts, head full typa situation. Thank you. This one is titled Only One. Enjoy <3

WC: 4475

Genres: Smut, fluff, angst

Tags: established relationship, anniversary dinners, tae x oc take a trip to Paris

Warnings: dom/sub relationship, dom!taehyung, sub!reader, sir kink, punishment, praise kink, use of the word slut once, colour system as a safeword, insecurity, possessiveness, possessive sex, aftercare, taehyung is very 🥵🥵🥵 in this one y’all

(*Cis female reader*)

“Y/N, Y/N, should we take a picture over there?” Taehyung asks, batting his eyes cutely.

You smile but roll your eyes at Taehyung’s enthusiasm.

Not to be mistaken, if there’s anyone who loves their boyfriend, it’s you. You would live and die for Kim Taehyung, but there’s a special reason for your eyeroll today.

It has been only two weeks since Taehyung got off tour, and at that a world tour. You know Taehyung must be very tired from constantly travelling, hence why you let your boyfriend get his full rest the first week. But the thing is you haven’t seen your lover in a year, and you want to make some memories with him. 

You know he will get too busy once the post-tour lull passes over everyone at the company and everything goes back to regular schedule. Then, Taehyung will get sucked away by album preparations, promotions once it’s out, and inevitably: another tour.

You love that Taehyung gets to do what he loves for a living. You also love how cool he looks on stage. But most of all you like getting to spend time with him. 

To be honest, you were going to go see Taehyung in Paris during the European leg of the tour. It had been your anniversary, and the two of you had plans to get dinner together and enjoy the city. But then life happened and your plans came crashing down, preventing you from seeing Taehyung until the tour ended months later.

But past you had thought quickly, knowing the day Taehyung would return home and shifted your ticket instead of cancelling. So a week after Taehyung got home, you presented him with a second plane ticket to Paris, France that you bought last minute just for him.

You thought Taehyung would agree with making up for your missed anniversary, but Taehyung had frowned instead. “Babe, I seriously don’t want to go anywhere for a while. I’m sick of hotels and planes.”

“But I’ve never been there, baby. It would be so romantic!” You convinced him eventually, your pout winning him over. Taehyung had sighed, then called his manager to let him know.

So excited from Taehyung agreeing, you had leapt up into his arms and kissed him like crazy. “Ahhh! I’m so excited!”

Taehyung had held back a grin. “Okay. But no touristy stuff.”

You pout. “But that’s the most fun part!” When Taehyung pouts back, you try to convince him again. “Baby, I promise I’ll seriously do anything you say if you do all the embarrassing touristy stuff with me.”

“Anything?” Taehyung asked you, arching a brow. 

You took his hand, nodding eagerly. “Anything. Let’s just have fun!”

Taehyung grinned at you. “You better keep your word.”

You had kissed him, grinning at him. He watched you with a fond smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You bet I will.” You vow.

It isn’t until you actually land in Paris that you realize what anything Taehyung is imagining.

For all his great qualities, Taehyung is not subtle about what he wants. Especially when he wants you.

The first three days, Taehyung lets you drag him around under the condition that you both wear disguises to avoid being noticed. You comply, picking odd hours of the day for activities that would be very busy at other times of day. You hit all the touristy spots in early mornings before the crowd, hide away in small tucked away cafes and restaurants with Taehyung during lunch hour, then spend the day browsing vintage stores for jewellery and clothes. 

It’s all fun and games except for the teasing that Taehyung will not stop. It’s hard for you to name a time of day where Taehyung’s big hands hadn’t been resting on your waist or his lips idly pressing a kiss to your cheek in passing. You know very well the game Taehyung is playing. He is slowly working you up, getting you used to his constant touches. Then, he will withdraw them, leaving you needy. 

Despite Taehyung’s teasing, the two of you still have a great time. You buy souvenirs for your friends and things for yourself. Taehyung also buys you clothes and jewellery, loving to spoil you. But what you love the most are the small establishments he brings you to, full of tasty food and where no one knows his name. You know the game Taehyung is playing, but you let him guide you to an isolated table towards the back and feed you food off his own utensils. You let him wipe the corner of your mouth for some smeared sauce, let him lick it off his thumb. Sometimes, you even get a little on your face on purpose. Taehyung notices when you do that, and lets you get away with it. After all, this isn’t a favour he’s doing you. This is your anniversary trip. He can’t be the only one getting away with teasing.

The following three days, the two of you hit the museums. Taehyung shows you around, explaining things he had seen on previous trips to Paris. You listen to him, happier to see him happy than to really look at the art. You take pictures of your boyfriend inside the museum and really anywhere it won’t catch too much attention.

Over those three days, Taehyung’s touches decrease. He reduces it little by little, but you know him well by now. Taehyung isn’t trying to be subtle, rather the opposite. He wants you to notice, to get riled up when his touch is gone. 

You tell yourself you don’t mind it, but both of you know it’s a lie. You ignore the smirk on Taehyung’s face every time you intertwine your hands or wrap an arm around his waist to guide him through the back roads. You will get back at him at dinner tonight.

After lunch on the final day, you tell Taehyung to head back to the hotel on his own. You say you are going to buy a new dress for your dinner date tonight, and that you want it to be a surprise for him. Chuckling, Taehyung just passes you his blackcard and tells you to have fun.

You buy a dark green coloured gown, Taehyung’s favourite colour, and a matching necklace and earrings set of emeralds. You smile at the sight of your ass being cupped by the silky material. This is sure to drive Taehyung mad. After all, tonight is the final night. Both of you know exactly how tonight will end.

You catch a cab to the five star Taehyung made a reservation at. You pay the taxi driver excitedly, getting out in your all new outfit, new heels, and even a new purse! You were sure to impress Taehyung.

You walk into the restaurant, telling the waiter who you’re here with. He lets you in, guiding you upstairs to your table.

You frown as you see your table. From this angle, you can’t see who, but Taehyung is talking to a woman. You approach quietly, catching neither of their attention. Luckily (or unluckily) for you, they’re talking loudly. You don’t speak much French but you don’t need it to deal with this woman. You hear her mention the word “model” and a woman’s clothing brand. You hear her repeat “model” a second time as she blatantly roams her eyes down Taehyung’s figure, then up at him. That’s the part that makes your blood boil. You know she is aware of your presence. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what kind of relationship you and Taehyung have.

But she still challenges you anyway, openly eyeing your man in public. If you could speak more French than basic small talk you would rip her a new one. 

Fuck it. You think, making your way across the room. Who needs to know the language?

“Oh, baby.” You say in a sweet voice. They both look over at you. The woman looks visibly irritated, pursing her perfect lips in annoyance. What a shame you like to flirt with other women’s men. You think, slightly in awe at her beauty. I’d like you in any other situation. “Is this a friend?” You ask.

You see a hint of a smile before Taehyung bites it back. “No, Y/N. We just met tonight.”

You smile pointedly at the woman. She frowns at you. “Ah, I see. Well, it was nice meeting you. We haven’t had dinner yet, so.” You say, pretending to be apologetic for cutting the conversation short. All three of you know you’re not, but it’s the thought that counts. Or doesn’t. You couldn’t care less.

“Colour.” Taehyung asks the minute you’re back in the hotel room. 

“Green.” 

“Poor baby. Got so angry that I took my eyes off you, huh?” Taehyung teases, hooking his fingers in the band of your underwear. He pulls back, making it snap against your hips. You whimper. “What’s that? Are you trying to say something?” Taehyung taunts you.

He cranes his head to look at you. He cups your face and makes you look at him. He makes a fake-worried face. “That’s odd, you were talking perfectly fine a few hours ago. Was it something in the food that’s making you feel sick or are you just embarrassed from being a possessive little slut in front of sir?”

His words make you shiver. He grins as he feels it against his own abdomen. “It seems like you’re really sick, Y/N. I guess we'll just have to go to bed.”

He begins to unwind his arms from around your waist, but you grab them, holding them against your skin. “S-Sir.” You whisper.

“There’s my girl.” Taehyung says proudly, rewarding you with a kiss to your temple. “Let’s talk about what you did wrong tonight, shall we?”

“I-I was possessive. I got jealous because you were talking to that model.”

Taehyung’s eyes flicker at the last word. “Oh, you heard?” He snaps the band of underwear against your skin again. You wriggle, but he refuses to let you go. “What a bad girl. Eavesdropping on sir’s conversations. What if she had been a potential colleague and you ruined everything? But you didn’t think of any of that, only your. own. feelings.” He emphasizes each of the three words with another smack. “You’re just an ungrateful little slut, aren’t you? I bet you would open your legs for any man that offered you this kind of treatment, huh?” He growls in your ear.

“I-I’m sorry.” You whisper, voice cracking.

Taehyung stops. “Colour.” He says, thumbs gently stroking at your sides.

“Green.” 

“Y/N.” He repeats more firmly. You sniffle. A tear rolls down your cheek. Taehyung thumbs it away immediately. “We don’t have to. I’m sorry. Do you want to take a bath together? We can cuddle after. Anything you’re comfortable with baby.”

You shake your head, looking away from him. “I’m really okay. I...I want my punishment.”

Taehyung turns you to look at him. He watches your face, looking for any unwillingness. He cups your face and makes you look at him. He smiles finally when he sees the familiar, hazy look in your eyes. You are already slipping into subspace.

“Follow me.” Taehyung says.

You walk behind him, still naked except for your panties. Taehyung is still entirely clothed in his suit and tie. He leads you to the fancy living room of the suite, and closes the curtains. You wait until he sits down to approach him. You observe his spread legs and the stern look in his eye. The air in the living room is freezing cold, but it only adds to it. This is one of the many things you love about Taehyung. How incredibly sexy he looks when he is in control.

Without being asked, you get on the sofa on your hands and knees. You drape your body over Taehyung’s lap, ass up in his lap. You fold your arms over the sofa’s armrest, turning your head to look at Taehyung. 

Taehyung’s warm hand caresses your ass. He kneads at the flesh roughly without breaking eye contact with you. On the outside, he looks indifferent, dark eyes sultry. He makes it look like he couldn't care less if it was you or another sub being bent to his will. But you know it’s part of the scene, that he’s watching you this intensely for your reaction and it is only your reaction he ever wants in a setting like this.

“You can safeword out if you need to.” He reminds you. You nod, putting your head against the armrest. “Count.” He tells you, before the first smack comes down.

You flinch on instinct, but his arm pins the backs of your thighs down. “One.”

Another smack but to the other cheek. You hiss under your breath. “Two.”

Taehyung gives the next three in succession. “F-Five.”

“Colour?” Taehyung re-checks. You reply green again. He delivers two more. “Six, ah, seven.”

The next two smacks are harsher. “Eight, nine一!” As you’re counting, Taehyung gives the final one. This one is the hardest of all, making the two of you sink a little lower into the sofa. “T-Ten.”

You are crying now, falling deeper into your subspace. Taehyung’s warm hands smooth over the places they hit. His voice murmurs sweet nothings in your ear, reassuring you.

“S-Sorry.” You continue to cry. “I didn’t mean to be like that.”

“I know.” Taehyung reassures you. He helps you up into a sitting position. It burns to sit on your still painful ass, but you do so anyway because it’s Taehyung who asks you to do it. “You took my punishment very well, Y/N, just like a good girl.”

You shake your head, sniffling. “I don’t wanna be ‘a good girl’, I wanna be your good girl.” You say. Taehyung frowns slightly as he wonders what that means, then looks shocked when he realizes what you’re saying.

“You are my good girl, baby.” He says softly, wiping away your tears. “No one but you.”

“But i-it was our a-anniversary dinner and you were letting her flirt with you. You just一just let her do it. And when I called you baby at the restaurant, you only called me Y/N.” You confess, giving up your fake confident act. The truth is that despite your anger in the moment, you had felt very insecure. It wasn’t like you could blame the woman for finding your boyfriend hot, anyone would. But the fact that Taehyung never said anything back and just put up with it instead of correcting her bothered you. Was it embarrassing to admit he was dating you in front of a woman who was so obviously his equal in elegance? This thought bothered you throughout the whole dinner. 

You didn’t plan on telling Taehyung about it, since he didn’t know you sometimes felt this way. One of the reasons you insisted on travelling to make up for your missed anniversary was this doubt. Maybe if you showed him around this fancy city and you made good memories with him, he might appreciate it. Maybe then it would ease your doubt of if you were worthy enough to be his.

You had never admitted this aloud to anyone, but you actually wondered If Taehyung had women in other countries that he went on dates with during tour. You know Taehyung is a good person but after all, he is a young man with sexual needs. And at that, a very attractive man who could get with just about any woman he wanted. So yes, seeing him talk to the very attractive woman had angered you, but it also made you feel like your worst fears might be true. 

“Y/N, talk to me, baby.” Taehyung pleads you, his worried brown eyes searching your face for any answers.

“...Can I ask you a question?” 

“Of course, my love.” Taehyung responds. “Ask me anything you want, baby.’

You sniffle. You play with his suit blazer. “Can you promise to not get mad at me?”

Taehyung looks like he might cry when you ask that. “I promise.”

“When you go away for tour...is there anyone else?” You watch your own tears fall onto Taehyung’s dress shirt. Taehyung looks shaken. “It might seem random but I’ve always wondered. I promise I’m not just acting up because of tonight.”

Taehyung continues to watch you, looking worried and at a loss for words. You put on a fake smile. “Sorry, it’s probably nothing. Let’s just go to bed.” 

Taehyung holds you by the waist, stopping you from getting up. “Y/N.”

“I said it’s fine. It’s okay. Really, even if you had another woman. I can’t control what you do when you’re not with me. A year is too long for a couple to spend apart anyway, it’s only natural that your feelings would change. It’s okay. Anyway,” You breathe shakily. “Anyway I’m still yours. As long as you like, of course.”

“Of course I like it.” Taehyung insists, tears glistening in his eyes. “I love you. Tell me how long you’ve felt like this.”

You hesitate. “Y/N.” There it is again, that firm tone that you hate outside of scenes. 

You look down at your hands. “Maybe two years?”

Taehyung is crying now, and he cups your face in his hands. “You’ve been thinking like this for two years? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“...I didn’t want to burden you. You’re really busy on tour.”

Taehyung purses his lips. “Can I show you there’s no one else?”

You nod. Taehyung lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He holds you by the backs of your thighs instead of your ass, careful not to hurt you. “The bed?” He asks. You consider the feeling of the rough sheets against your sore ass. 

You shake your head. “C-Can we use the hot tub?”

Taehyung kisses your forehead. “Anything for you.”

Taehyung sets up the hot tub for both of you. He takes your panties off for you, sliding them down your legs. He kisses you deeply, sweetly. You whimper into the kiss, his tongue completely in control of your mouth. When you part, a strand of saliva comes loose. When you part far enough, the saliva ends up on your chin. Taehyung wipes it with his thumb. A darkness has entered his eyes again. “Get in. Let me show you how much I love you.”

You get in the hot tub, relishing the feeling of the hot water. It stings a bit, but it’s easier to sit then the bed would have been. You sit with your legs spread slightly, calves tucked under you and feet beneath your ass. Neat and pretty. Just the way sir likes it.

Taehyung strips quickly once you’re in the water. Your eyes roam over his beautiful body, at the hard muscle of his chest, his bulging biceps, his caramel thighs, and his rigid cock. “Come here.” Taehyung orders as he gets in the water. You do so, climbing up into his lap. He kisses you hungrily, like this is the first time all night. You are surprised at the intensity of this kiss. You cannot recall a time Taehyung has ever kissed you so passionately in your years together, even in your roughest scenes. 

“So pretty.” Taehyung growls when you two part again. He wraps one arm around your waist to press your chest against his, then attacks your neck. You gasp as he makes love bites, all the way down your neck. He has never made this many before in total, yet he makes them everywhere tonight. He litters your collarbone and the top of your chest with them, making them bloom red at first but you know they will be a deep purple shade tomorrow. “How can you not know what you mean to me, when you’re this fucking beautiful? You drove me crazy in your dress tonight, no, you drive me crazy every fucking time I see you. Maybe even since the first time I met you.”

“S-Sir.” You moan at the praise, face heating up. Taehyung pushes you back against the wall of the hot tub. You tilt your head back against the tiles as he touches you everywhere. He uses his hands to tease at your nipples, making them harden. Even as he does it, he is grinding down on you. You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. 

“You fucking know I am.” Taehyung snaps, losing the careful composure he wears during scenes. “You’re my one and my only. Look at yourself, so fucking lewd, all worked up by my touch. You have me wrapped around your finger and you still think I’d have another woman.” He continues, cursing in between his sentences at your sweet sounds.

“S-Sorry.”

“Don’t ever be sorry.” Taehyung cuts you off. You let out moans as he starts rubbing at your clit, hard and fast. You grind against his hand. In his dom persona, Taehyung would never tolerate you doing this, but both of you are too far gone tonight to follow the rules to a T. “I will clear this misunderstanding tonight. On your knees, princess.” 

You lean on top of the towel Taehyung placed for you on the tiles. Taehyung places his own knees outside of yours, and you feel his hard cock against your ass. Taehyung eases two fingers into you, wet from your arousal that it’s an easy fit. “Nnn, sir.” You plead, grinding down on him. 

“You won’t get more until you say what I want to hear.” Taehyung says next to your ear. He presses his chest into your back, pinning you to the edge of the hot tub. “Who do you belong to?”

“Sir! I belong to sir!” You cry out, and Taehyung picks up the pace.

“So fucking pretty.” Taehyung praises, kissing the marks he left on your neck. “Only you get treated like this, understand? No woman could ever be loved like this by me. Every time you forget I will bend you over my lap and make you come on my cock over and over until you get it in your head.”

You let out a particularly loud moan at that, making Taehyung smirk. “Does my princess like that, hmm? You want to get bent over and take my cock all the time? Want me to fill you up with my come, plug you with a pretty little toy, and make you go about your day?” Taehyung inserts another finger and the stretch has you whining. “Answer me.” He demands.

“I do. Ah, fuck, Taehyung. Please. I do.” You plead, tilting your head to the side. Taehyung meets you immediately in a passionate kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth, completely different from Taehyung’s usual style. Is this really what he can do when he lets go? You wonder, getting drunk on his kisses alone. You thought Taehyung had been rough before, but it’s nothing compared to tonight.

“Turn around.” Taehyung says, withdrawing his fingers. 

He takes in your needy expression, leaning in to kiss you again like he can’t get enough of you. “Can I come in you, baby? Have you been taking your pill regularly?” 

“Yes. Yes.” You chant. Taehyung laughs breathlessly, grabbing a fistful of your hip in one hand and lining himself up to your entrance.

When he enters, both of you moan. “So good. Whose are you, princess?”

“Yours, only yours.” You answer breathlessly. Taehyung grips your thighs and lifts you slightly, allowing him to enter you more deeply. 

Taehyung abruptly picks up the pace of his thrusts. You grip at his shoulders for support, unable to stop the noises that fall from your lips constantly. Not only is Taehyung going fast, he is also going incredibly deep, rubbing right over your G-spot. 

“C-Can I come, sir?” You beg.

Taehyung nods, and you move one hand between your legs to rub at your clit. As you tip your head back, Taehyung holds himself deep inside you. Both of you come at the same time, you clench hard around him and Taehyung pumps his seed inside you. He kisses at the marks on your neck as he comes, and you dig your nails into his back. 

You move your hand to his hair once you finish, stroking it gently. Taehyung pulls back from the wall, his hand smoothing down your back to ease any discomfort you felt being pressed against it. You don’t even notice until the postcoital bliss dies down that your ass was now more sore than before. But Taehyung does. 

“Let’s take a shower.” He tells you, helping you up. You both get out of the hot tub. Taehyung runs a small handcloth under the tap. He comes over and wipes your vagina down first, then cleaning himself. 

The two of you get in the shower together. You let Taehyung wash your body down, scrubbing gently and avoiding touching your ass. You grab his shampoo off the ledge and put a good amount in your palms. “What are you doing?” Taehyung asks, surprised that you turned around while he was washing your back.

“Taking care of you.” You mumble, washing Taehyung hair for him. You grab the detachable showerhead from the side. You shield his eyes with a hand as you rinse the soap out.

Taehyung smiles fondly at how concentrated you look. “Baby, a dom is supposed to look after their sub following a scene. Not the other way.”

You shrug. You probably heard that somewhere. Your brain is too foggy right now to think. “But I want to.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yes.” You answer, smiling at how nice Taehyung’s hair looks now that it’s clean. “Because I belong to you.”

Taehyung lightly pecks your forehead. “And I’m yours.”

Later, when the haze of your subspace wears off, you two are laying in bed together. You’re wearing one of Taehyung’s shirts and a pair of panties. Taehyung is shirtless and in a pair of boxers. Taehyung has just finished putting lotion on your sore bottom to ease the ache for tomorrow. 

You lay on top of Taehyung’s chest, and Taehyung tucks the blankets tucked in around you. You snuggle up against his chest, content in his strong arms.

“Y/N, I know I already proved my point, but you really are my only one.” Taehyung tells you. You don’t reply so he cranes his head to look at you. Taehyung smiles fondly to notice you’re already asleep. He kisses the top of your head. “No problem. I guess I have the rest of my life to prove it to you.” He mutters to himself.

You smile to yourself with your eyes closed.

Requests are open (✿◡‿◡)

[bottledemotion]

Our Twisted Faith (Soulmate AU Headcanons w/ Scenarios)

- Reverse soulmate au where the words written to ur skin is ur last words to them.

- Pairing: Zhongli X g.n reader,

- 3.9k+ words; Rated T

- warning/s: angst, character death

- A.N: This was supposed to be a full on oneshot fic but I can't fully write most of my ideas rn so I decided to list all of those (hcs or not) instead and write certain scenarios I thought off. Ngl, I have a hard time writing them in character, most of all when they're still not much accustomed to their emotions/feelings, so forgive me if they might come out OOC to you.

- For as long as he can remember, soulmates exist before the Gods.

- Before the ashes rise and form their body. Before the letters mold to create their name and have been spoken in unfamiliar languages. Before their feet take a step forward to their world, the concept of soulmate is already there. Watching, guiding and toying everyone's faith like a marionette doll.

- Which is why they also have a soulmate waiting for them.

- You could say that this is the 'only' similarity between the humans and gods hold. But unlike humans, the Archon's soulmate existence is different from the humans. Some of the Archon's other half doesn't exist even after many eras have passed.

- And one of them is Morax.

- Morax sees this concept as another form of contract. A contract that unified both individuals that both parties will benefit happiness, be it through the present and beyond. Yes he's aware that there's no 'consent' nor knowledge to both parties about this. But they can talk more about this once they meet.

- And maybe, just maybe, the contract will be fully formed.

- For an Archon who is known for being an emotionless, merciless god who slaughtered countless innocents in order to fulfil the contract. He also craves the feeling of happiness, everyone does, no matter how many times you deny it.

- he won't admit that this is also one of the similarities that human and gods hold. For human are way cruel than Archons above, cruel in their own way.

- So he waited for them. He studied the concept and terminologies about soulmates. To learn more about the contract so he can come prepared when the time comes for them to meet.

- He found out that there are many ways to find your soulmate. Be it through a time limit or name written on their skin, eyes that can only see the color of their other half eyes and many more.

- He found out that soulmates don't have to be romantic, it can become platonic and enemies as well.

- At first, the possibility of his soulmate being his enemies for life might happen. He's so used to betrayal and the blood that stained his hands, be it in or out of contract. But whenever his amber eyes gaze at the words written on his right wrist, be it through his dragon or human form, he can't help but be at ease and that everything will be fine.

- But those thoughts shattered when he found something through his learning. Something deep and brutal that he can't help ask why life has to be this cruel than it already was.

- Reverse soulmate. Sweet but deadly, bittersweet if they may. Yes you have and met your soulmate, but your faith with them is not beautiful to watch it bloom. This is a very rare occurrence for someone to have.

- And one of them is had to be him

- Because there, on his skin, he found out that the words written will be the last thing his soulmate will say to him before dying. Written in (F/c) with warm yellow star dust that glows in the dark sprinkled on the words. The words it said directed to him when his lover slowly disappear on the world is

- "I love you."

- He can't help but ask if this is a divine punishment given to him for all of the things he had done.

- He faced many enemies. Many betrayals. Spilled blood that became the exact same colour of his scales, be it through his claws or hands. Known as the God of wars, God of contracts to many. Yet he can't face this future that might will ruin him.

- But a contract is a contract, no matter if it's fully formed or not, it is still a contract. And as a God of Contract.

- He must fulfill his part and duty.

- From dusk till dawn, he waited for his soulmates to step foot on the world. Even after many eras had passed. Even after a war broke out. A nation had fallen. Blood had spilled and stained even the glaze lilies he adored watching so much with someone. Many bodies, comrade or not, loved ones or not, had been fallen along the betrayal and salt on the ground and buried deep down on the grounds. He continued waiting.

- And during his wait, he met someone along the way.

- A traveler who stumbled themselves on his nation. A traveler whose heart is weak but eyes shine, full of energy. A traveler who's spending their remaining time traveling around the world instead of looking for a cure to their condition.

- And a traveler who the very first time, just sat next to his statue.

- At first, Morax grew curious. It's not everyday to see a mortal walking to his nation without looking or asking for something for him to gain despite the obvious need from it.

- maybe that's what get his full attention when his amber eyes first landed to the traveler

- So he watched them from the statue on where they accompanied him. Silently accompanying them on their last remaining days on the land. He watched the travelers' bright (e/c) eyes watch the clouds part ways on the sky until it slowly turn to a sea of stars at each seconds passed by.

- Each day has passed. Watching them from the distance that are so close yet so far away, he noticed little things about them.

- He noticed how quiet yet soft their voice is when they hum under their breath. How the light of the sun and moon compliments their (s/c) skin. How tempting to run his fingers to their (h/l) (h/c) hair that dances with the air every time the Mondstadt Archon, Barbatos, caresses it with the wind, silently accompanying them from time to time like what he's doing.

- It's quiet yet peaceful. It's a sudden change that's somehow refreshing and comfortable. He didn't expect to feel this light feeling again after everything that had happened in the past. It's perfect but at the same time scary. Change never last, it always continue to change no matter how many time it occurred.

- And he was right when one day the traveler finally spoke to him.

- And it is a question he never expected to hear from a mere mortal

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

"Are you tired?"

'Tired from what?', is what he wanted to reply but immediately remembered that the traveler didn't know that he's there beside them, listening and accompanying them on every tick of the time.

"Bound by the contracts you agreed on. Chained to your duties, responsibilities and even guilt that you hold on your shoulder. Never taking a break from it and instead keep moving forward no matter how heavy those burdens you carry it all alone despite the people who worship and swore to protect you and the city are all around you."

He heard them take a deep breath and continued.

"You've already finished your duties to your land, did you ever think or ask yourself to call it a day and take a rest?"

Morax breath hitched at the words. And a memory immediately played on his mind.

He remembered he was strolling along the harbor when he heard a merchant tell one of his workers, "You've finished your duties, go ahead and call it a day."

He remembered he stood motionless among the sea of crowds as soon as he heard those. From there, he asked himself, "Have I already finished my duties?"

From there, no one answered his question

"Bearing it all alone...Aren't you tired and lonely from it?"

Even though the traveler never expected a response from him, he can't help but whisper his answer and hope-

"Yes."

-for the wind to let them hear his loneliness.

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

"I guess I can say I relate to you. Being tired I mean."

Morax slowly opens his eyes and turns his way to you. It's one of the days where you suddenly talk again after days of being quiet and just be in peace which he didn't mind one bit.

He didn't know how it happened. The peacefulness in this place and between you is another sudden change that he didn't mind one bit. It became his sanctuary. Free from the titles he holds, free from duties, free from responsibilities.

Or maybe just being by your side is a sanctuary to him.

He slowly shakes his head and turns his attention back as soon as your timid voice reaches his ears.

"From my entire life, all I feel is pity and hesitance to be closer to me from others. I can't blame even them. Who would want to be friends to someone whose death is waiting on their doorstep?" You said with a humorless laugh

'I would.' he wanted to say but remain silent instead.

He saw you hug your propped up knees and draw them closer to your face, hiding your beautiful face from his eyes and to the world.

"I accepted my faith that I won't last from this world. I'm so tired of being treated like a fragile glass that will be broken at any second. All I want is to live my best from it and maybe have someone to share those experiences with me till my last dying breath."

He saw your grip tightened to both of your knees

"I wonder....what it feels like....to have someone treat you like a human than a fragile doll...."

He noticed your voice getting dimmer and dimmer at each word you spoke.

"Do you ever wonder what it feels like...to be not alone anymore?.."

No words came out from you after that. Only the wind and your silent cries comfort both of you after the one-sided talk.

He didn't know what to do. How to fully remove the pain and burdens on your shoulder and heart when he didn't know how to ease his in the first place? Despite many people's proclamation that a God can perform a miracle without limits, not all God can do those. Not everyone is known as a God of Miracle.

Not Barbatos, not him.

In the end, they're a God with limitations.

But the one thing he knows is that he can't help but want to feel it too. To have someone by his side again. So why not both of you experience it together?

If he can't destroy the burdens you both hold, both can help ease each other's burden instead.

This will be the first time he did something out of will and no contracts involved

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

- So after that, he starts walking around in Liyue in his human form. The one he used a long time ago that was now carved into one of the Seven Statues but with little changes.

- Everything about his appearance remains, even the tattoos on his arms and the amber tips from his long dark brown hair that glows whenever he uses his Geo powers remains there. The only difference is the way he dresses. Instead of his typical white robe with a hood and long wide pants, he now wore a long dark brown coat with silver shoulder pads, tassels, and a diamond symbol on the back. He also wears gloves to hide his arms with a silver ring on his right thumb. He also wore a formal dark gray shirt underneath his coat, black pants and leather shoes and a tassel earring on his left ear.

- Meeting the traveler again with his human form was easy. He also didn't take that long for them to befriend them. The only problem to the befriending part, is the name he'll use to this era.

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

He did not think this through.

He can feel his human hands from his side start to sweat under the gloves. His amber eyes refuse to stare back to your bright ones as soon as you ask him a question that he forgot to think through."

"What's your name?" Is what you asked from him.

A simple question that can be easily answered, but if you asked that question to a God, it's one of the hardest questions they ever heard. Stepping fort to his nation in a new era after years already passed, he must think of a name that'll be different to the one's he used to own in order to avoid confusion and misunderstanding. Who knows, he might encounter people who are still aware of the old names he used.

For an immortal Archon who can mold themself to different forms, humans or not, make money itself from his own hands and submit mortal beings, thinking up names is not his forte.

He can feel your stare burning from his entire being, waiting to answer with a smile.

And he almost did not surpass the shiver that wants to crawl itself out from his body.

He slowly turns his eyes back to you and immediately regret it. Your bright (e/c) eyes greet his amber ones, eyes full of anticipation, and happiness to probably making a new friend.

He can't help but cleared his throat to have a reason to turn his eyes away to you

"It's...." He started and darted his eyes around them for something, anything to use of a name to this era.

"Try our new food from the Wangmin Restaurant!"

"Chop Suey!!'

"Try betting your luck on jades?"

"Why don't you try checking out the Chungli store stand near Wangshu Inn?"

His eyes lit up to one name, it's-

"Chungli." He said with a straight face

He watched you turn your head to a side "Chungli? Isn't that a store at Wangshu Inn?"

He mentally facepalmed. Of course you're aware about that because you're a traveler. But it's normal to name your child in your store right? He decided that he'll use that name, for now.

He opened his mouth. The confirmation is on the tip of his tongue but it got cut off when you immediately gasped loudly, making him step away from you with mouth still hanging a bit open and amber eyes widened and staring back at yours who's also wide but not from shock, but from....realization?

"You meant Zhongli right?!"

He immediately closed his mouth. Zhongli. Huh, the name is not bad, better than the one he was about to use.

Having decided, he nodded his head to you and raised his hand in front of you.

"Yes. I'm Zhongli." He confirmed, voice deep with a hidden feeling of pride that bloomed when he said the name you made for him.

He never took notice or thought about why he felt so proud of the name you gave to him. But as time went by, he finally knew why.

You smiled at him, a smile that's so contagious he can't help but smile back to you.

You grab his hand. Despite the gloves he wore, he can still feel the warmth along the roughness of your (s/c) hand caressing his.

"I'm [Name]. It's nice to meet you!" You said and shook his hand.

With a shake from your intertwined hands. Both of your faith has been sealed.

After that, he'll regret not telling you that meeting you with his human form was a nice change. He'll regret not telling you that finally talking to you after the years of silently being by your side is one of the happiest memories he treasured about you despite it's challenge. He'll regret not telling you that your eyes are so beautiful up close. He'll regret not telling you that hearing you say that name you basically created for him , is also not bad. He'll regret that he never admitted to you that he wouldn't mind hearing you saying that name to him everyday, as long as time let you stay breathing next to him. He'll feel all of this when you're laying on a bed, looking at him with your bright yet dull eyes, wheezing out your last breath next to him.

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

- After he introduced himself in his human form but with different name, Morax- now know as Zhongli -accompanied you to your on Liyue.

- At first, it's awkward. You both walk around in Liyue, side by side but rarely talk to one another. Though you both began to warm up to one another when you both approached certain areas that you became curious off that brings certain memories of him that he can't help but say it.

- As soon as he noticed you taking great interest in the stories he spoke. He decided to continue telling stories about the area's you both go through, even the histories and what you need to know and become aware of. In short, he basically became your walking encyclopedia traveling buddy.

- As time continues to pass by, your relationship to one another grows closer. Every day is another day to spend time with you. Traveling with you, he starts to enjoy walking in his nation again.

- One of the favourite part of his day with you is sitting with you on Qingce Village while watching the meadow full of glaze lilies bloom as the sun goes down on the horizon. It's beautiful to watch glaze lilies bloom while the fireflies surrounds them. It became one of his fondest memory he'll never forget.

- He'll never forget how your (e/c) eyes became so at awe at the glaze lilies. He'll never forget how your (s/c) hand caresses one of its petals until it caresses his hand next to yours. He'll never forget how your hand fits so perfectly to his. He'll never forget the weight of your head from his shoulder, your breath and (h/c) caressing his neck and shoulder, and the kiss he placed on top of your head. He'll never forget those, even as the meadow full of glaze lilies are gone and rarely bloom and your presence missing next to his.

- If there's one thing that he has forgotten, it's the soulmark that's written to both of your wrists. Too busy on what's in front of you, too busy to indulge your presence until your borrowed time slowly comes to its end. Forgetting the words written in (f/c) became one of his biggest mistakes as he slowly wallows in regret as soon as he remembers it too late, right on the time where it's time for you to go.

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

"I forgot to say thanks to you."

Zhongli heard what you said despite your voice being quiet, too quiet for his liking. He didn't turn to face your way, afraid that if he did, it'll be hard for him to turn away anymore, afraid that tears will come out of his eyes, afraid that it'll be hard for him to let go of your hand that slowly loosen its strength. 

But he's listening. He's always listening to you, even if you're not talking anymore he still listens to you.

"For as long as I can remember, I accepted my faith that I won't last from this world. The people around me all look at me in pity. It's suffocating, it's tiring to see the same sad look plastered on their faces every time I came near them. All my life, I always wanted to have someone by my side to share my journey in this world but no one wants to. I'm used to it, I even thought that no one would really bother to turn their way to me."

Zhongli felt the bed shift, and (e/c) stare boring to his hidden face.

"But you did."

He heard you sniffle "You turn your attention to me. You walk your way to me. You talk to me. You gave me friendship that no one dared. You gave me experience, happiness on my journey and I'm so, so glad I met you and will be with you on my journey."

He heard you hiccup "but at the same time....Sad because you have to bear the grief and loneliness alone once I'm gone."

He tightened his hold to your hand.

"I'm sorry yet at the same time not, that I met you. Is it bad of me to feel happy that there's someone here who will miss me once I'm gone?"

You laughed. It came out force like your wheezing the breath left from you.

"All in my life, I felt so alone. So when you came in my life, it's like the Geo Archon listens to my prayers even though they don't have to."

Zhongli noticed your breath starts to get slower and slower. He noticed your hold to his hand getting weaker and weaker. He noticed your voice getting quiet and slow. He always noticed those yet he can't do anything to prevent those from anything. What only he can do is accompany you, to ease your burdens so you can leave peacefully from this world.

But he can't help but release a shaky breath. He can't help but hold your hand tighter to the point it's crushing your hand, yet you didn't voice out your pain. His hand that's holding yours starts to shake but neither of you point it out. 

He knows you're leaving today. Time is ticking, and there's nothing he can do to stop it.

As soon as he felt your hold loosen completely, he knew the time was up.

But before you left, you said the words he never expected you to say.

"I love you."

You wheezed before closing your dull (e/c) eyes and hid it for the world to never see again.

You left him sitting next to you. Now looking his way to you with wide, foggy amber eyes. Not even Guizong, his first lover despite both having a different soulmate, didn't say those to him in her dying breath.

From his dilemma, everything clicks into place. 

You were his soulmate. And he realized those too late.

And the only he can do is cry. For the person who's gone. For the words he never gets to say to you. For the things he never got to do and express to you. 

For the love he never gets to reciprocate.

Now he knows as to why you don't have any soulmark like his when you told him you both have the same way to find your soulmate despite the lack of soulmark to your (s/c) wrist.

Because he can't die to begin with.

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

"The glaze lilies look so beautiful tonight. Don't you think?"

Zhongli whispers while his stare still focuses on the flower blooming next to his statue. The flower really looks so beautiful at night, reminding him of the meadow where he used to hang out with someone from his side. 

He unconsciously rubs his thumb to his right wrist, where the words used to be in (F/c), now turn into a dull black ink.

"Zhongli!"

Zhongli placed his hand back to his side and slowly turned his attention to the people who called for him.

He watches them wave their hand to him. "Zhongli! The Lantern Rite will start soon! Let's go back!" Their companion, a mysterious fairy who called herself as 'Paimon' called.

He nodded his head in their way. With a one last longing stare at the glaze lily, he walked away to the place where he first met you.

If you ask him again what he regrets, is that never gets to say the words he always wanted to say to you. He never gets to say how being with you made his dull life full of new experiences and adventure that made his life more fun to bear with. He never gets to say how he relates to you when he first met you. He never gets to say how beautiful you up close.

He regretted saying "I love you" to you too late

-I ACCIDENTALLY UPLOADED THIS WITHOUT EDITING IT! So for the people who saw this early (the unedited version one) and expect Xiao in it, I'm so sorry!! .·´¯`(>▂<)´¯`·. I'll write his version soon! (since he came home on my main and second acc lol) After I'm done writing the part 2 of the Venti X Female Bard reader,,

- I used all of my remaining braincell and got tired writing this on the ending, so you'll notice the ending is a bit bland?? Again, I'm sorry for that. I hope you still enjoy reading this though! (╥﹏╥)

[aki-simp]

Helping hand.

((A/N: Havent written in a while so I feel a bit rusty. This fic was part of a server collab that can be found here! ))

Tags; Megumi x Male!Reader, blackmail, voyeurism, is this dark content? Also nsfw bc Megumi diddles himself hehe 

Im sure I dont need to but just incase : Minors go away

Are there words to express the feelings upon watching the one you love moan the name of your classmate as they touch themselves? Surely there must, for whatever you’re feeling is… gut wrenching? Intriguing? Disgusting? Not so much the latter, you conceded as you watched him. Truly, it was anything but. 

You took note of the small shivers that wracked his lithe form, the furrow in his brow. The short heady huffs of air he released whenever he squeezed the base of his cock and the whine that accompanied it. In all his naked glory and whatever thoughts of Itadori plagued his mind, he still had yet to notice you. 

As usual. Megumi was a perceptive boy, but you felt it failed where it mattered. Every careful word, every sure action done to get his attention. Unintentionally thwarted by Itadori. You don’t blame him, Itadori is a sweet guy. But you can't say that Megumi’s blind eye to your affinity towards him doesn’t sting. As the thoughts of all the times you looked to Megumi only to find his eyes on Itadori swell to a heavy weight in your chest, you hear him groan. 

In the time your mind wandered (and you’re confused as to how, because Megumi is breathtaking) you see he has now made himself more…. Comfortable. The bench where he once sat he now lays on, his chest resting along the seat with his ass in the air, one hand slowly inching his long finger into his hole as the other continued its languid strokes along his cock. 

You watched his finger slowly disappear inside himself as the desperation dripping from his needy moans fills the small room, the sounds rousing your cock to an almost unfathomable degree. The light sheen of sweat gracing his forehead, the bright tint to his lips from being bitten to hold back moans topped with the small coat of saliva dripping from his mouth is almost too much. Truly a sight to behold, an eternal image you wished to have ingrained into your mind. It was amazing watching how effortlessly his fingers slid into himself, as if he’d done something like this many times before. And with his sudden cry upon hitting a certain spot, you can tell he has. 

Your hand travels to the front of your pants in an effort to quell the unbearable tightness, palming yourself you can feel your watery precum leaking through your boxers. Slowly pulling your cock out, you bite back a stinging hiss as the chilling air touches your head. As your eyes travel back to Megumi’s quivering form, you pump your hand in time with his fingers, imagining the feeling of his warm hole clenching around you. A heady breath is held in your chest, the air in the room reaching a stifling degree. 

Over the slick wet sounds of Megumi’s fingers in his hole and his wanton moans, it’s no wonder he couldn’t hear your soft pants just beyond the door. Lost in his own world that you very much wished to be the center of, the pang of jealousy returns to your chest once more when he moans a name once again that is not yours. Watching him with a seething envy of simply wishing he would notice you, wanting to be the one who he dreamed of, the one he pined for. The grip on your cock speeding up at the thought of marching up to him, prying his legs open and making him realize that Itadori is simply who he wants but you are what he needs. 

A gasp catches in your throat at the sinister idea that flies through your psyche. With the shaky hand not wrapped around your cock, you slowly reach into your pocket. It pains you to tear your gaze away from Megumi’s flushed and tear filled face, but you’d be able to see it again soon enough. You’ve had it for years, but the phone in your hand somehow feels different now. Be it due to the impending orgasm from watching Megumi in his most vulnerable and debauched state or the fact that your thumb hovered over the camera button with its lens angled right at Megumi’s perky ass, the device felt sacred. 

Taking a deep, focusing breath, you quickly check to make sure the flash is off before finally pressing ‘Record’. Swallowing, you zoom in on Megumi’s blissed expression just in time to see his eyes roll back, tongue lolling out from between his bitten red lips. The sultry moan of Itadori’s name makes you curl your upper lip, an urticate reminder that despite the show Megumi has unknowingly put on for you that it is not you who he touches himself to the thought of. 

As you watched the flush on his cheeks grow in colour, you could feel the blood rush to your cock, causing it to throb painfully. You kneel, feeling the cold floor in contrast to the rising heat of your body at seeing Megumi not only in front of you moaning without a care in the world but knowing it would be on your phone to view again and again; whenever and however you wish sent a feeling akin to euphoria rushing through your blood. It was almost too cruel, knowing how awful the boy would feel if he knew, but you love Megumi too much to hurt him, you think. Keeping the video to yourself for a while wouldn't hurt anyone, and you definitely weren't complaining. 

Your attention is drawn away from the screen view of Megumi to the real deal as he changes his position. This one hides his face, but the new angle ensures you a perfect view of his ass and the flushed leaking cock below it. Whether it was this new display of Megumi’s vulnerable state or the blood leaving your brain to make your cock throb, it seemed the wet squelches of his fingers desperately in search of something deep within his wet hole. Megumi must have thought the same thing as a string of stuttered curses leave his lips before being consumed by a heady groan. Even without seeing his face, you can tell he's drooling, you can imagine it coating his lips. 

A knot in your stomach threatens to burst as Megumi’s breathy pants grow. If it hadn't been for the fact that you knew he would never do something like this, you would almost believe he knew he was being watched. The arch of his back, the rock of his hips onto his nimble fingers and the hand furiously stroking his cock was enough to make a masterpiece. Megumi was beautiful, and you would show him. 

The hand stroking his cock picks up speed just as Megumi's breath stutters and you slowly, subconsciously lean in. At one last shrill cry of a name that isn’t yours, Megumi cums, a shuddering whiney and sweaty mess. The orgasm that makes its way through you almost makes you drop your phone, but you remember to keep it steady and  the look on Megumi's face as he sits up in his post orgasm bliss is worth it. Tears clinging to his lashes, the sheen of saliva on his lips, and a small red spot on his cheek from resting it on the bench, all coming together to create the perfect picture for you to reach your climax as well. 

A small taste of blood fills your mouth as you bite your lip to keep any noises at bay. You continue to watch him in your post orgasm haze, admiring his features as you always have. Although you still wished it had been you who Megumi cried out for, you let out a soundless laugh, shaking your head. Putting yourself back into your pants after closing the video, you take one last look at Megumi, as he also composed himself to leave. As he turns his back to the door, you silently slip out. 

The walk back to your room was quiet. Images of Megumi flashing behind your eyes as you aimlessly walked the halls. You look out one of the many windows adorning the halls to see a full bright moon. Before reaching your door, you make one last stop at a vending machine for a cool drink. The drink seems to help, soothing the last dregs of nervousness and anticipation before the light padding of footsteps reaches your ears. Quickly turning to the source of the noise, you look just in time to see Megumi slip by. Your gasp is interrupted by the liquid in your mouth, and Megumi turns to your coughing form. “Are you alright?” he inquires with a raised brow, half hearted sincerity laced in his voice. 

With a few quick, harsh thumps of your fist to your chest, you nod.  “Yeah,” you let out with a shaky voice. “Just caught off guard is all.” you finish with an unsure smile. He hums before looking you over. You watch his eyes travel down your form and you quickly glance down to make sure nothing looks out of place before looking back up to him, his eyes boring into yours. He blinks slowly, his eyebrows furrowed.

Shaking his head, he looks at you once more before asking “What are you doing out here so late?”. Taking a slow sip of your drink before letting out a fulfilling sigh, you look at him and shrug. 

“Eventful day made me a bit restless I guess.” you quip before turning to take your leave. He hums as you can feel him watching you as you walk away. You almost wish he could see the smile adorning your face, maybe then, the fake worry in his voice would finally lead to something more. Just like you’ve always wanted. 

——————————————————————-———————-———

              The next day during class, your mind wanders back to the night before. You attempt to keep your hands busy to keep yourself from growing hard in your slacks. And subconsciously to keep you from grinning at Megumi like a madman. You could practically feel your hands vibrate whenever you held your phone at the thought of what it stored. The smile that etched its way onto your face sadly did not go as unnoticed as you would have hoped for. Your head perks up when Gojo inquires what girl you were texting that made you so giddy before laughing. 

              You turn away from Gojo, shaking your head. As you make your way out of the classroom, you look at Megumi before stopping. “Hey.” You start, trying to keep your face neutral. The same thrum of adrenaline after last night coming back to you. When the boy in question looks up to the sound of your voice, you have to clench your fists to not allow any more of your emotions through. “Can I talk to you later? It’s not important, it's just…..” you let the sentence trail off, hoping he wouldn’t ask any questions. 

              And like the good boy you know him to be, he doesn’t. The boy solemnly nods before returning back to the work on his desk. Before leaving, you tell him you’ll stop by his room after classes. After hearing the door click shut, you begin a slow, deliberate walk back to your room in anticipation. Upon sitting on your bed, you take the time to stare at your ceiling, pondering what Megumi will say. What Megumi will do. The blush is imminent , he’s such a reserved guy that being face to face with video evidence of him in such a debauched state would surely fluster him. 

                Would he cry? Would he get angry? Try to fight you? The mental image of Megumi crying and clinging to you, begging you to delete the video made you sigh. Imagining his lashes heavy with tears, his bottom lip trembling as he stares up at you as if you held his life in your hands which, inadvertently, you practically did. The surge of pride that coursed through you at the thought of having him wrapped around your fingers almost makes you laugh. 

               Before long, the sounds of laughter and footsteps of students returning to their rooms pulls you from your power induced daydream. Standing from your bed, you let out one long steadying sigh before making your way to Megumi’s room. You spot Itadori along the way, he smiles telling you Megumi is already in his room. How wonderful. How obedient. 

                Gently knocking on his door, you stand and wait patiently for him to reach the door and the sight of him in casual wear softens your heart. You don’t have time to wonder how he changed so fast or why, but he ushers you into his room nonetheless. He motions for you to sit on his bed as he takes his place in a nearby desk chair. 

                He opens his mouth to speak, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “So…. you need something?” he questions as he watches you look around his room. The silence is stifling, making Megumi shift in his seat before looking at you again. “Look man, I don’t know what you-“

                “As a sorcerer, you should be more aware of your surroundings.” The interruption makes Megumi flinch, though he would deny it. Brows furrowed, Megumi goes to question exactly what you mean before you turn to him, the smirk you had been hiding all day on full display. “Don’t you think if you’re gonna finger your ass in a public place you should have the decency to at least make sure you’re alone?” 

                  All the daydreaming in the world could not prepare you for the look of shock and hurt that adorned the young man's face. The scoff you produce makes Megumi's blood boil, rushing to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Cute. An expression of disgust takes over his features as he stands. He lets out a humorless laugh as he stands. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re a god damn pervert.” The shake in his clenched fists, the twitch of his eyebrow, you admire it all. It would almost be scary if this situation had not transpired because he quite literally got caught with his dick in his hand. 

                “If I’m a pervert,” you start, making your way to Megumi to stare down at him past the bridge of your nose. You swiftly grab his chin in one hand, and use the other to block the hand he tried to swipe at you with. “what would Itadori think of you?” The raw indignation from Megumi’s scowl was truly one of the better parts of this whole ordeal. 

                 You can feel him clench his jaw under your grasp, and his attempt to pull himself free from your grasp. “And why would you tell him? You’d look just as bad as I do, recording your classmate jacking off-“ his sentence cut short by the pained sound from you squeezing his jaw. The smirk you wore before is long gone, instead replaced with a cold stare that Megumi won’t soon forget. 

                 “You are loud. Just like you were last night. Calling out to a man who you and I both know doesn’t feel the same. Truly, Megumi. You’re better than this.” You shove him away, pushing him so that he stumbles onto his bed. He makes a move to stand again, but the steady hand on his chest and you standing between his legs stops him. “But this can be our secret. He doesn’t have to know, and you can continue crying and calling out to him all you want.” You chuckle, slowly pushing him down onto his bed and sliding your hand to his throat. 

                  He keeps his scowl on, but his labored breathing tells you another story. “For? I doubt you came all the way here just to laugh at me.” You smile at him, not as sinister as before, and slowly slide your free hand up his side. Megumi hates that he shudders, but he hates your laugh even more. You abruptly stand, walking to his door before looking at him over your shoulder. 

                “I’ll keep your dirty little secret so long as you don’t mind lending me a helping hand from time to time~” Megumi sits up, confused. He opens his mouth to ask what you mean before you close the door. You pull out your phone to send the illicit video to Megumi. The small chime of his phone and the anguished groan he lets out upon seeing that you had physical proof of his lapse in judgement, made the whole thing that much sweeter. Before walking back to your room once more, you send him a text. 

         “So I’m free this weekend. What about you?”

[bluebellhairpin]

The Kings Queen

King!Erwin Smith X Queen!Reader

A/N: It came to me in a daydream; I was MC; and certain British actor was he. And now it is no longer dream, but reality - if only because now in ink. - Nemo

Summary: In order to get his politicians off his back, Erwin needs an heir. The problem is, he isn’t even married yet. An arranged marriage is set, and his new queen is surprised at how compliant he is at waiting until she is ready. 

Warnings: Misogyny is a major one here guys. Arranged Marriage. Age gap (he’s in in forties, and mc is in the twenties area). Talk of pregnancy, and children. 

Listening to: ‘Once Upon a December’ from Anastasia (piano version) 

Series Masterlist 

Masterlist

A month ago it scared you, and scared you now. You stood next to a man you didn’t know, vowing your life to him, and all you could think about was how uncomfortable your corset was, how the headpiece dug in behind your ears, and how much you would rather be anywhere else.

Doing anything else.

Being with anyone else.

You wanted to be curled up on the armchair your grandfather made, your younger sisters at your feet next to the fire, as you read aloud to them from a book they probably didn’t understand. Your mother would be on a couch across from you, needlepoint in hand, and your brother and father would walk in. Your father would kiss your mother’s temple, and your brother would join your sisters on the floor, handing them two small, handcrafted, wooden figures. 

But instead you were here.

Standing under a chapel steeple, holding a bouquet that was too heavy, in a dress that had too much fabric. Almost half the city was crammed into the pews behind you, eyes hot and boring right into the back of your skull. Your almost-husband at your side. Your king at your side. 

You were getting married to Erwin Smith, and he was the monarch of the land you grew up in. 

You knew what was to follow. You knew why you were taken from your content life and thrust into the much higher end of high society. You were to give him a child tonight. An heir. And if it were born a girl, then you were to keep giving until it became a boy, and then some. 

You weren’t sure if it were that which scared you most, or that you never got the chance to have found a love of your own. You weren’t giving anything up aside from your family in marrying your king. There was no farm boy or baker's daughter that you were leaving behind nor betraying by speaking the vows that came from your mouth. 

No others lips had touched yours, and no one else’s fingers had grazed your wrist as Erwin’s did now. You marked off your shivers and incapability to meet his eyes as nerves, and nothing else. 

Before you were taken away by your uncle, your mother told you something. She told you to notice things. Notice the people. Give them what they want, graciously, so that they have want for nothing, and then want of their own to spare. 

So when you turned around to face those people, the crown which now held both allies and enemies, with your new husband’s arm wound around your waist, you noticed the people. You saw their smiles and cheers and decided to take your mothers words to heart. They were your people now, you were their queen. 

So you fought down the nerves, painted on your best smile, and sent greetings and waves to as many as you could as you made your way to your new home.

You had to admit, like most children, you did gaze upon the castle and it’s stone walls, wondering what life behind them was like. 

You had been once before, a garden party when you were younger and your brother was only a tot. It was one of the few parties the lesser and higher nobles alike were invited to. As equals. It was the first Erwin held after he was crowned king. He hadn’t had one like it since. 

You remember wandering off into the rose maze with your brother's hand in yours. Being only ten years old, your mind made the brush of thorns and baby-pink blooms into a lot more than what they really were. Whether it were to comfort yourself or to keep your brother calm, you made up a little game. 

Somewhere in the maze was a dragon; blood red scales and teeth as long and sharp as kitchen knives, a belly full of flames, and a smell for human flesh. If you stayed stagnant too long, it would find you around the next corner and swallow you up in one gnash of it’s jaws. 

But there was also a Prince in the maze; brave, gallant, and knight-like in every way possible. With hair golden like fresh cut hay, and eyes as clear and strong as ocean waves. He would wield a sword with a blade so sharp that one blow would send that dragon straight to its death.

Of course you didn’t tell such things to your brother. They were a bit intense for a four-year-old, so you dulled it down a number of notches. 

Imagine your surprise when you ran into someone, with hair the colour of fresh-cut hay, and eyes of the clear blue. He offered you his hand, and told you he’d keep you safe from that ‘dragon’ who was chasing you. 

And he did stay true to his word. You did get out of the maze safely, even if there was no dragon he was protecting you and your brother from. 

You remember that boy, a man really, and how he was handsome with his youthful features. Back then you didn’t know who he was. Namely that not only a few months ago he really was a prince, and that now he was the king hiding from most of his own party guests. 

That was around fifteen years ago, naturally things were a little different this time around. 

This time the party was inside, with tables stocked with foods - some you’d never even seen before - and candelabra’s. The room was already filled with guests, chattering and laughing, some even dancing with did bring a smile to your face. There was a group in the corner, playing instruments in all forms available. You had been changed before you joined your husband in a chair slightly smaller than his. Apparently being seen in your wedding dress at your wedding reception wasn’t proper, and that you needed to wear a more dulled-down version to eat. 

The corset was just as tight.

You’d barely said more than a few words to him, and now here you were. 

You excused yourself early from the celebrations, and no one batted an eyelid. ‘Preparing’ yourself might be proper. 

There was a lady, a bit older than yourself, named Nanaba. She helped you out of the stifling corset and the wads of white fabric. The putting on of the night slip and it’s robe was a lot nicer. It did not require a corset, as nice as it might make you look. She sent in for some tea, and once it arrived she excused herself. 

You wish you’d spoken to her more. She was nice. And it may have calmed your nerves a little. But you didn’t and you couldn’t will yourself to do anything except cling to the bedpost furthest from the door and wait. Luckily you didn’t have to wait long. 

The door opened, and in stepped your king. You found yourself sucking in a breath, nails grazing into the polished wood, and you cast your eyes down to put yourself in check before looking up at him. He looked over at you, smiling lightly and shed his outer layer of clothes before sitting down at one of the chairs near the fire Nanaba lit earlier. 

You wondered what he was waiting for. 

“Come sit, please.” he said, shuffling a little to set up two dainty tea cups. “This is your home too now, the last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable.” 

You let out a quiet puff of air, playing with the new ring on your finger before making your way over to the chair opposite him. 

“You are quite timid, aren’t you?” he mused, offering you a steaming cup, “I supposed though anyone would be all things considered.” He sat back, and you finally took a moment to notice how much he had to be admired. ‘Handsome’ was barely a word to describe him, but those blue eyes, and his hair looked like it would be soft to touch. It made you think of that ‘prince’ from the game you made up in the rose maze outside. What luck would bring you both to meet a second time. 

He caught your eye again as he took a sip of his drink. 

“You can take comfort in knowing nothing will happen tonight, nor any night in the foreseeable future.” he said, voice hushed and quiet and indeed comforting. “We are barely acquaintances, let alone friends or lovers.” 

You couldn’t help but gape at him, letting your tea get colder. 

“B-but why? You need a child, I… I-I’m here to give you one -”

“- no, that what all those lords want. The child that they want me to have is going to be yours too. It’s not my body that will be their home for the first nine months of their life. I admit,” he said, setting his cup aside, “I will need an heir eventually, but it’s no matter or urgency to me.” 

“Not until I’m ready?”

“Not until you are ready.” he nodded. 

“That’s very kind of you, your majesty.” 

“Call me Erwin,” he said, taking to his knee as the glow of the fire reflected off his face, “At least when it is just us. Please?” 

You let out a laugh, light with nerves and giddy fluttering in your heart, and brought a hand up to your mouth as you turned to compose yourself. You turned back with a smile to see his face matching yours. 

Who knew you were seemingly fretting for nothing. 

“Only if you also call me by my name.”

It was a well-known fact to even the ‘commoners’ that there were not many men in the kings court who were good people. 

Within your first week of living in the palace you knew Erwin was one of them. 

Despite his often off and rough ways of getting to and around things, he was a good man. He did have a good heart. 

Another was a much older man named Dot Pixis. He had an odd manner of speaking, and his ways were not always perfect. But he always went out of his way to treat you kindly - something many others viewed as easily brushed aside - and he had a loyalty and trust to Erwin that you sensed not everyone had.

You also took kindly to Levi Ackerman and Miche Zacharias, both head guards set to protect Erwin and yourself, respectively. They both did marvelous jobs, for you nor Erwin had been hurt by someone will ill-intent yet. And despite both their quiet natures they were nice. At least Miche was. But they weren’t really ‘in parliament’. 

Nile Dok was the only other of those men that didn’t send your gut reeling in some way. He had a family on his own, too, and you’d seen how he treated them the morning after your wedding night. He truly loved them, and a man who loved his family like that was one who you trusted. Your own father was like that with you. 

Many other new friends were found in your new home, too. Hange was the head librarian, and with the help of Moblit the rows and rows of books were kept - not organized per say - but everything did have a place. 

There were those in the kitchens, and the gardeners, maids, and military personnel. You made sure to greet them all when you could. You were more than happy when they returned the gesture, even if a little more than some of them didn’t. 

But there were people you didn’t trust at all. They made your skin crawl. You knew you didn’t come from a lot, and didn’t expect the same respect that Erwin had, but what they showed towards you? Even Nanaba commented how you should be treated better. 

However they would never treat you any less than a queen unless you were with Erwin. Unless you were with your husband, the most powerful man in the country. As much as you liked Erwin, and come to even love him in some very small way over such a short amount of time, you didn’t like that. 

You didn’t like how you couldn’t get their respect unless you were standing next to him. 

So you made up your mind.

[yournameyn]

Feeling Deeply: Chapter 3

Genre: Fluff so much fluff. Arranged Marriage Fic.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Summary: The story of two deeply feeling nerds who find themselves in an arranged marriage. Something neither of them really wanted but are now discovering just how much each needed. Away from their childhoods, their families & their homes, Namjoon & Brishti (the OC) are privileged immigrants who slowly build a home, a family & a true sense of self, together in 1960s London. Please note this is not the typical immigrant experience of that timespace and I’ve taken many-a-leap to write the fluuuufffiness I wanted to write.

A/N: It’s unabashed fluff. And eventual smut but I hope you’re okay with a really slow burn. Like, reaaaally slow. Both our characters are introverts & met as strangers so it’s going to take them a while to get the *ahem* fire going.

Big big big love to @sahmfanficbts, @mintjoonlep, @holdinbacksecrets, @sunshyngal, @xjoonchildx - who give me so much love and encouragement & whose straight up genius writing makes me swooooon!

Characters: Brishti is our OC. She’s a feminist, obviously. She’s Indian, wheatish in colour, curvy & slightly short. Brishti is bengali & her name means ‘Rain’. Her pet name is RimJhim which means the sound of rain. (Namjoon calls her Rim & she calls him Joon) This whole story is a tribute to Forever Rain.

The Namjoon in this fic is what I imagine he would have been had he not followed his dreams at the age of 13. Hopefully, I’m able to do justice to the idea as I write ahead.

Current Chapter: London, late 1963. Brishti & Namjoon meet her colleagues. They listen to the then-rising band The Beatles & take a strong liking to one particular track, if you know what I mean. Again, sorry to spoil but there’s no smut yet. I was not kidding when I said it’s a slooooow burn. Next chapter, it’s happening. There's not much conversation in this chapter, either. Is this almost 3k words of just CONTEXT to the actual smut or just a tease - you tell me!

Also, someone else we love is also introduced in this chapter!

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

Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface Chapter 1 Chapter 2

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

Namjoon loved his weekends now. They were like a real couple, Brishti and him… setting the never ending “final touches” in their home, together. They went out to pubs and gardens, libraries and cafes together. And yet, to both their secret dismay, they hadn't moved ahead from that one hug they had shared. They'd played, instead, with words and been more and more intimate in their conversations.

Brishti introduced him to her colleagues - her group among the staff at the British Library. Working there was her pride & these folk were her joy. This was nerve-wracking for Namjoon because he knew how much she loved them. These were her people. Her true tribe. It was almost like he was meeting her parents. Instead of two indian elders (whom he had spoken to on the only international call she had made since their wedding), he found himself faced with a weird band of strangers. An English couple Harry & Kate who had adopted the library instead of a child, an elder woman from Japan, Sayuri-san - whose stories Brishti narrated to Namjoon all the time, a Korean guy (his age!) & Yana, a girl, Brishti’s age who was half English, half Iranian & completely in love with Sam, the black historian from America, as Brishti had reported. As they settled in for their picnic in Hyde Park, Namjoon tried his best to hide his shock when he found Sam was - one, a girl & two, as tall as him. He wondered which attribute threw him off more. Still, he was completely enjoying himself with Brishti’s Unlikely Gang of Weirdos that Will Save The World. That’s what she called them. Sayuri-san agreed - They were all groovy outcasts who had somehow clawed their way into the (apparently) cutthroat world mainstream librarians.

Brishti was glad to see Namjoon really hit it off with the only other Korean she knew, the guy who’d told her about the only place in London that sold black bean noodles, made the right way. Namjoon had almost cried when she had brought them over from work. The two of them spoke as if they had been thick as thieves for years. They talked about Korean poetry and the folk music they had to participate in their childhoods. They spoke about the music archive section of the library, which was heaven for Min Yoongi. The passion in Yoongi’s eyes when he spoke about maybe someday taking a class about world music appreciation was something Namjoon wished to have too, but wasn’t yet ready to admit.

As they were packing up their picnic, the conversation flowed to a new band in the country. Brishti spoke about how every young girl she had met recently just could not stop talking about how groovy The Beatles are. The elders in charge of the music archive brushed them off as a fad but she was insistent to bring it up every meeting - after all, it was teenage girls that had popularised & helped usher in the lyrical music of Vivaldi. Or of Lisztomania - that popularised the soft romantic tones of Liszt which formed the base of the modern love song. Namjoon loved to see her almost up in arms, struggling to find a better word for the admiration that girls had for music and musicians.

“It’s not hysteria… or fanaticism… it- it’s just love.” She had said. No one disagreed. In fact, everyone in her group was persuaded to (at least) give The Beatles a listen over the weekend.

And so, This evening, A Hard Day’s Night played as they arranged books & records at home. Brishti was arranging the books, apparently not having had enough of the task despite working as a full time librarian. Namjoon’s heart ached when he thought about how Brishti loved her job. Thankfully his mind never stayed on that thought for long. Namjoon wished he could pay attention to the song. These days, paying attention to anything but Brishti was almost impossible. The smallest movement in her, the smallest stir intrigued him.

Meanwhile, Brishti had been trying to figure out a way of getting him to touch her &… as silly as that sounded to her rational mind she couldn’t really come out and say it. Night after night when they’d stayed up talking about things or listening to music or just simply reading their respective books, on the floor or by the window with their legs sprawled out in front of each other, she wished he’d touch her… that somehow maybe he’d notice her feet. Strange as it was, she kept thinking about his hands, his fingers tracing the contour of her ankle while she didn’t turn one page of her book for almost an hour.

She understood the problem - both of them were so hyper-aware of each other while pretending not to be that an accident couldn’t really occur. Things had to be done & Brishti thought about how she shouldn’t let tradition dictate who makes the first move. She also kicked herself for not following tradition and stopping him from taking his pillow & blanket away to the couch on their wedding night they were supposed to sleep on the same bed. It made her heart race that she could sleep next to this Korean Greek God-like feminist man. Ufff. She was covered in tense knots everywhere and anytime she even thought of making a move, the fear in her would make her do something else - like unpack all the books into a makeshift bookcase.

They were facing in opposite directions in the same room and Brishti couldn’t help glancing back at Namjoon again and again. The broad expanse of his back made her long to hug him again. They hadn’t touched each other since she let go of the hug. It made her ache, the memory of him moving away from her. Next time they touch, she wouldn’t let go first - of this she was certain.

Brishti looked at him again & smiled, wondering how someone so tall could look so tiny & cute. Namjoon did look surprisingly tiny, poring over the vinyls & neatly arranging them. She smiled thinking about how he had spent some time wondering if the records should be kept chronologically or alphabetically.

Finally, he had announced, “Ofcourse! I have it! The category has to be mood! The...” Brishti loved the small pauses Namjoon took to find the perfect word. “The story of each album and the feeling it brings out!” The way he smiled, pleased with his decision created a flutter in her heart.

Looking at him poring over each song in each album trying to discern what the overall feeling of it was, she felt an unbearable urge to tease him, to disturb his cataloguing. She would go over and irritate him… probably tickle his waist or blow in his ears. Or maybe just nuzzle his neck. Brishti wondered if these things would actually irritate Namjoon or perhaps lead to something else... The thought made her blush so fiercely, she turned to face her pile of books. Brishti wished she could walk over, silently demand a space in Namjoon’s lap, he would throw out anything that crowded his lap & she would sit there, being cuddled, enveloped in him & talk about songs… if she could talk, at such a moment that is.

She needed to stop staring at him and yet, she couldn’t help but look... She was a warm-blooded woman after all. And Kim Namjoon was a particularly delicious man. It wasn’t so much that he was tall… plenty of men were tall. (She rolled her eyes thinking how most everyone was taller than her.) Unlike other men, though, Namjoon was not awkward or gangly. He had wide shoulders and a gorgeous neck. She had to actively keep her eyes focussed on something else when she could see the contours of his chest.

In that first week of them living together she wanted him. She felt the heat of being seen by those sharp beautiful eyes that held a deep fire in them. Brishti found herself thinking more and more about how his back looked, how it would feel to be cuddled up against that broad beautiful chest, how it would feel to touch him and to be touched by him. She blushed & laughed to herself when her spontaneous thought was that she’d like to “climb that tree” - whenever Namjoon stood up after being scrunched over his table, writing. That yearning awakened a much fiercer part of Brishti -

Why couldn’t she?! He was her husband. They have to come closer at some point, so what was she waiting for? Without a second thought, her body moved to get up & walk over to him. But as it had happened every time, her mind caught up to her at the very last minute. As Brishti walked over, bent, stretched out... for a pile of books close to him. She was close enough to touch him. And still, she just picked up the books & walked back. Thankfully for Brishti, she had a natural sort of nonchalance. Something Namjoon envied. Brishti did not know what this little stunt of hers did to him. Namjoon, with his fists balled, had to hold himself back in that moment. He had to stop himself from grabbing her; from pulling her into his lap and having his way with her.

The gentle thread-like tug he had felt when he’d first seen Brishti’s photos... it had become a magnetic pull now. Shocking and also somehow inevitable.

It had been more than a month of them living together and Namjoon was wrestling with something. An idea, apparently. It was as though an idea was caught in a vast net that he had laid out across the ocean of his mind. But he was having trouble fishing it out. He understood there was no point forcing it, that the idea, the thought would emerge when it, or when he was ready.

Taking his time, slowly, Namjoon was understanding how he had done the perfect thing for her, accidentally. He was confused too, when his instinct told him to let his bride sleep alone on their marital bed the first night they had moved in this flat. He had reasoned that it was the decent thing to do. Unknowingly, he gave her the time to explore, to own that space; Not crowding her with his body. Not invading her with expectations that, no matter how silent, would be blaringly evident. That was the right thing to do. Then.

Now things felt different. Now, it felt like she had made that space, this whole home hers. But then that’s where his thought-net felt stuck. The thought he wanted to fish out kept pulling at him, telling him she needed something else now. Like Brishti craved something else now. He wondered if she, like him, craved touch. Was that why her body instinctively moved, stretched, inched closer towards him these days. Was this why he’d found his shirt among the blanket instead of the laundry basket the other day?

Namjoon tried to shake off these thoughts again - they felt dangerous, explosive. What was happening? He looked back at his beautiful wife and saw her stretch her arms, then her abdomen, all the way till her hips and then bend forward to touch her toes. She mewled, very softly when she did that. Namjoon felt the familiar flip in his stomach again. This time, thankfully, the thought leapt up within reach too.

Namjoon suddenly understood just how feline Brishti is. Somehow, it was a key he needed. The idea surged through him & made him stand up. Because it wasn’t just an idea, it was an epiphany. Brishti looked at him, her eyes asking, saying, expecting something he didn’t understand fully.

The tingle that ran down his spine told him he was about to.

“You okay?” Brishti asked, concerned & embarrassed because the move she expected hadn’t come. But then again, it was probably too much to think Namjoon had stood up to carry her & throw her on their bed. Wasn’t it?

He was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room looking confused. Namjoon recovered & asked, “Coffee?”

Brishti smiled & nodded. Namjoon rushed to the kitchen. The catching of this thought excited him. Because after living with her for almost a month, he had just now realised it is this attribute - of being feline-ly feminine or femininely feline - that is what makes his body almost overpower any semblance of restraint his mind had imposed.

At first it seemed silly but soon Namjoon realised it isn’t. Not at all. It really clicked in place like the right key, the precise note does - he understood how to BE with her. Be there for the feline creature-like woman that Brishti was revealing herself to be: The way she walked, slowly almost moodily… letting her feet touch and caress each surface her feet felt. She would be walking across the room but would stop just to walk back and forth, softly, in a way that one can’t really call pacing at all. And everytime she touched something she liked, or saw or tasted something she loved, she made these small sounds that would make Namjoon’s heart melt. They were always half-way between a purr and a moan and they made him wonder what pleasure would make her sound like. Namjoon thought about how Brishti is graceful but her grace, like the curves of her beautiful body, aren’t timid; How, it’s a grace that announces itself... sometimes even before she walks in.

It isn’t the only thing that attracted him to her, not by a far cry. Namjoon thought about how he loves her mind, her words. But this felt, somehow, more… more visceral or... wanting to be. Could something formless long to be touched?; To become tangible, touchable? This feeling, in his chest and his gut. This feeling within him, it jumps, flips every time she walks by. These days it seems like Brishti walks by closer and closer each time she passes him. Like she needs to feel the texture of his skin the same way she needs to feel the slight drag of the rug on the soles of her feet. And it just adds more depth to this deep cavernous feeling within him. Instinctual whispers echoing within-

Why does it feel like he needs to touch a fragrance?

Like all he needs to do is reach out?

Like the moment he will reach out, an essence, an aroma will become an experience?

It felt like Brishti was calling out to him silently. That magnetic pull was stronger than ever and it was pulling him, drawing him to her, telling him to reach out, so she can find her way to him. That feeling, the way he was being pulled… that was feline. Like she needed him to reach out so she could make him hers too. And then, then it happened. The first four notes of ‘And I love her’ played and pulled him to her.

In that moment, in their 7th week together, as Brishti was tracing the lines of Namjoon’s back, gawking at him, thinking about this man - this gorgeous, curious, wonderful man - as her husband… a thought so fantastical it would make her squirm in her seat. Just as she was recovering from the thought, releasing the tension in her shoulders. The knots he didn’t know he caused, Namjoon kept the cups of coffee aside and extended his hand.

‘I give her all my love, that’s all I do…” To him, the instant she did it again, - the stretching her arms all the way up. The little moan she made every time she did that, the way her back arched and highlighted all her curves… it drove him, his body, his instinct to reach out.

“And if you saw my love, you’d love her too.”

The stomach flipped, again. This time, though, his instinct acted before his mind knew what he was supposed to do. Thankfully, his mind caught up -

He had just reached out. Reached out for her to claim him. But to one who didn’t know everything that had been going on inside both their hearts, it would look like he was inviting her to dance. Brishti looked at his hand and then at his eyes and suddenly Namjoon understood the reason for this magnetic pull... these lyrics is what she was saying all along -

“A love like ours could never die, as long as I have you near me...”

She took his hand & left no distance between them. Brishti realised there was music playing in the room only after she took Namjoon’s hand. Before this, she could only hear her own heartbeat, sharpened to an intensity never before experienced. Sharpened to a glint in a way that only love can. Love… and unmistakable, undeniable lust. Her heart had been beating with so much longing it had clouded everything else.

Now, in this moment, with his heart so close to hers, she could finally hear the music. This is what she had needed. This is what her heart had been pining for. And she knew. Without the shadow of a doubt she knew... he had heard her.

Brishti moved to the simple guitar strings that were tugging them both. The melody deepened each time the same four notes played. And each time they rooted deeper in the soil of her heart, she moved him too. His hands on her waist, caressing her curves everytime the four notes played. And they played over and over again… Namjoon followed the lyrics and sang along with his beautiful deep dark chocolate voice in her ears, saying -

“And I love her...”,

And his strong arms around her. How could she… Brishti, even if her name didn’t mean the rain, how could she have resisted pouring?

“Bright are the stars that shine, dark is the sky, I know this love of mine will never die...”

This evening was the first time they’d really touched each other. Stood so close to each other. Moved together.

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

Oooooh god you read it?! Thank you so much! Please let me know what you think! Get into my messages about it! I would love to hear what you felt about this!

This is the song that's mentioned here in case anyone is curious.

[littlefreya]

The Crystal Ship - Part 1

Summary: Henry is the most dangerous crime lord in England, he has everything he wants and women throw themselves at his feet, but what really gets him off is what’s hard to get.

Pairing: AU! Mafia Boss!Henry Cavill x OFC (Ash)

Word count: 4.8K

Warnings: Smutty Smut, MaleDom Vibes, Stripping, Bad language, Sexual innuendo, dry humping, bodily fluids.

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write this for a while and I only hope you guys will like it. As usual, I am nervous. It was supposed to be a one-shot but ended up being longer than I expected so I am dividing it into two parts for now. Many thanks to @agniavateira my sweet beta and helpful muse. Cover designed by me.

Please leave feedback  💖🥺 and more importantly, enjoy.

Title: The Crystal Ship

The sweet, smoky scent made his nose curl in repulsion. It was thick in the air, like a fruit that was too ripe, mere moments before rot sets in. Henry dreaded coming to the Imperial, even though it was the only safe ground to conduct business without having to deal with the district attorney's snout or any unwelcome eavesdropping. The club felt musty, drenched with bodily fluids and not in a good way. The men who frequented this place were foul animals; being amongst them made him feel as if their filth was rubbing onto him. 

Sitting at the bar, he downed his whiskey, hissing while the fiery liquid hit the back of his throat. The bartender stood behind the counter, polishing some glasses and looking at the large man as he brooded on the sleek black marble of the counter.     

Plastic neon lights flickered magenta and turquoise on the slick surface. An offensive contrast to the gloom that played inside Henry’s head. Life lacked vividness when everything was handed over on a golden tray. Money, beautiful women, fast cars. 

The women of the club were especially keen on throwing themselves at his feet, thirsty for his attention and money which he was never willing to give.

“Please fuck me, Henry.” “Please let me suck your cock.”

As any man, he was flattered, though if he wanted to see a woman naked, he wouldn’t need to pay for it. Still, they circled him, desperately whining at his feet whenever he stepped into the club.

All except for her. 

Big, almond-shaped eyes the colour of fertile light brown earth with a touch of green. Sitting on a barstool in the opposite direction. She was one of the girls working the club, no doubt. He didn’t imagine she was a gangster wearing fishnet stockings and a tight corset.

New girl, he gathered. He had never seen her pretty face before tonight. It was apparent she could sense his glance. Her body shifted uncomfortably, her irises focused on the straw of her tall glass of orange juice yet she never bothered looking back. Not even a smile on her nude lips. 

Henry scoffed as a spike of interest surged through his mind. He spotted the long-haired beauty earlier as he sat through an infuriating meeting. Her big hazel eyes cut into his attention abruptly, focusing on his glare for a wisp before she swung away. 

Treating him as if he was a nobody.

She chose to ignore him, much to his contempt. 

Girl likes to play tough? Well, I happen to like bending things in my hands.

-----------

Ash felt her hand prickle as she waited on the bar stool. Sipping on an orange juice, she watched as an ageing rich couple made out on a red vinyl booth while a curvy girl danced on their table. Candy-Apple, the girl who she was paired with for the night, disappeared to one of the VIP rooms with a customer. Instructed her to wait and not to take any customers alone, being still a trainee. 

The Imperial had some strict dos and don’ts. 

Little did Candy know, Ash had the miraculous gift of getting herself into sticky situations and for reasons she couldn’t explain, tonight felt like one of those nights. 

Taking another sip, she exhaled nervously, the corset tight around her ribs, further pushing her already strangled lungs. It was her very first shift and she seemed to have fallen on a busy night. The customers were not too pushy, though. No one has smeared himself onto her while holding a pitcher of beer and smelling of peanuts on their breath. Candy promised that the owners won't touch the girls and don’t let anyone else touch them either. The Imperial might be a “gentlemen’s” club, but it was one of the safest joints for girls to work at in London.

It didn’t do anything to calm the anxiety that waited at the door as she felt the presence of the tall stranger who kept his eyes on her for the last couple of hours. 

She “bumped” into him earlier as she walked around the ground floor. Broad shoulders and a face that looked as if it was put together from all the best parts found in heaven. He sat with three other men, looking like the superior one in the group. Fury burned in his eyes, yet his posture was composed which only made him look more frightening. It was a mistake to gander, she knew it deep in her heart, but he was an impressive specimen of a man. She couldn’t look away, not soon enough before their eyes met.

Now he was sitting a few meters away. A spiced drink sits in his glass, a ghost of a smile loomed over his face while his fingers were pressed to his temple in some sort of dark intrigue. He stared with the confidence of a man who knew he could have everything and it seemed like she fell on his aim.

Feeling uncomfortable, Ash broke her gaze and slipped off from her seat, wishing to find a place where she could hide from his hungry curiosity. This man had trouble written all over his arrogant posture and if she learnt anything about herself, it was that she was a magnet for chaos. She turned on her stilettos and crouched down for a second to rearrange the fishnet stockings around her thighs before straightening up moving on.

In the most natural order of things, the stranger was there to stand in her way. 

Broad and mysterious, the man towered above her with a small smile edging his mouth. Up close, she noticed his copper-brown curls and eyes like smooth steel. They shone like sharp knives through the club’s neon lighting. His jaw was cut marble, defined lines soared across his high cheekbones and even his lips had the perfect cupid’s bow. 

Ash registered him carefully and her heart murmured. No man should be this good looking; he was beautiful in manners that seemed unearthly.

“May I buy your precious time, love?” 

His voice hung low and deep, smooth like a chocolate truffle that melted on one’s tongue. 

The scent of danger filled Ash’s nostrils; it smelled like peated scotch, aftershave, and heady musk. Judging by his cool-grey tailored suit, it was quite clear that he was a businessman from the underworld kind.  

He burnt hot, and a part of her was immediately drawn to the flame. Yet despite the thrill, he seemed much more perilous than any of the other criminals who lurked around the club. This man could easily fuck up some poor girl’s life. 

In the dark cold cavern of the club, with his shadow casting over her face, the stranger seemed more like Hades than just the ordinary mobster.   

“Maybe some other night”, she forced herself to refuse, doing her best to sound polite yet stern while offering an apologetic smile in the hope that he would accept her refusal and let her go. 

She knew right away that wouldn’t please him. It was clear as vodka; he wasn’t a man who took no for an answer. The thought alone made her nerves shiver as if someone was sliding ice on her skin.

Henry ran his knuckle across the dimple of his chin. The signet ring on his pinky finger flickered on her hazel eyes in blinding silver. He took her in with a deep inhale. No, not even a drop of appreciation on her pretty face but he did detect a tinge of fear.

Interesting he mused, a small grin stretching his defined lips. The little dark-haired woman was either completely oblivious to who he was, or she was one of them ladies who had principles. 

Whichever it was, it spiked his intrigue and made for a curious turn of events in a very boring night.

“Isn’t that what you do, darling? Dance for money?”

He asked as he waved two £50 bills between his long fingers as an offering. His accent was posh and not a fake one either. She imagined he grew up wealthy. How does a man who presumingly, could achieve everything in life wound up into a place like this, she wondered. Not that the Imperial club was anything sort of sleazy. It was owned by the largest underworld family and had a taste of an old cabaret. Male celebrities often visited the club aside from gangsters and corrupt politicians.  

“It’s my first night I’m not really...”

Henry reached into his pocket, drawing six more £50 bills and offered it to her. The steel in his eyes softened for a moment, yet the peril still hovered on his face. 

He was a man trying to appear harmless and the risk never seemed so alluring.

Chewing on her cheek, she stared at the money. It was enough to stock the fridge for at least a month but it wasn’t as even half as seductive as her stranger’s haunting charm. 

Fuck it.

Taking a deep breath, her slender fingers reached toward the hand that held the cash. She snatched the money from between his digits and tucked it in her garter belt. Henry beamed, pleased that she agreed. Two large dimples creased his cheeks as if this man needed any more attractive features.

Ash wrapped her fingers around his wrist and led him through the depths of the club while her heart thundered in her chest. For some reason, it felt as if she was walking freely into a trap. 

And yet, excitement boiled in her blood. 

The cracks between their silent contract were filled by the beats of the monotonous music. They passed by the abundance of half-naked women who were coaxing different men around the bar, touching and smiling sweetly, serving them with nothing but the illusion that they are wanted, when in fact they were needed for nothing but a paycheck. 

Henry followed the petite woman, anticipation coating his veins and spiralling a small grin on his face. He guessed that without her heels she’d be at the height of his shoulder, this pretty little thing with raven black hair. He was intrigued by the way she bravely withstood him, almost to the point of irritation. It seemed as if his spell was useless on her as she carried herself carelessly, unlike the many women who threw themselves at his feet, begging to be fucked.   

There was something provoking in her, to the extent of him willing to break another one of his own rules and get a sense of what she felt from the inside. 

Her fingertips pressed on his wrist, sensing the pulse within. His heart ran strong and confident but she imagined it would only be a matter of time until she’d have him a complete mess. 

They all have the same weakness, no matter how much power they have. 

The large spacious club narrowed into a slim corridor while teal and magenta-coloured lights danced diagonally across a mirrored tunnel. Their own reflections appeared several times, accompanying them as they arrived in an open room, guarded by a huge, square-shaped bodyguard with a shaved head, chewing on the dead skin of his thumb.

Henry eyed him carefully, giving him a small nod before following her into the room. The interior was dark, with a black ceiling and a black shiny floor, embellished with white LEDs that reflected on her red stiletto heels. An onyx leather couch waited in the middle next to a small edge table holding plenty of bottled hard liqueur.   

“Make yourself comfortable.” She gestured toward the seat and shut the door behind her, taking a deep breath as she felt a slight increase in her heartbeat. In the confinement of the small space, the brooding man had the energy of a lion, hazing her senses and making her feel like nothing more but a fluffy little rabbit. 

The leather squeaked beneath his weight as he shifted slightly, wide thighs spread open while he glanced at her rear. She turned to tinker with the stereo system, selecting a tune to dance to. 

Browsing through the selection of beverages, Henry decided to treat himself to a bottle of smoked whiskey. He unturned a clean lowball on the table, the sharp hiss making her flinch and then slump her shoulders at the sound of thick liquid being poured. The odour of spiced ashes filled the room, mixing with his musk and her sweet perfume.  

“Should I pour you one as well, pet?” 

“I would rather not drink on the job,” she replied and pressed play. Soft synth tunes played through the speakers and Ash turned to him slowly, giving him a seductive glance. 

“Depeche Mode, really?” He crooked an eyebrow and smiled with amusement before pressing the glass to his lips and eyeing her carefully.

“I thought this song is fitting for my first VIP client” she answered, and made sensual steps towards him, already feeling captive by the daggers on his eyes. Henry took another sip of the amber-gold drink and placed his glass aside, pressing his fingers against his temple while examining the woman who was running her hands over her corset.

“You’re my first too.” 

“Bullshit,” she mocked, entering into the space between his knees. 

Henry tilted his head, a small warning glare crossing his chiselled face. “Mind your tongue, sweetheart. You’re a lady, act like one.”   

She bit her tongue, avoiding the small tremor that flapped from her chest all the way up to her throat like a tiny caged bird. The dominance and authority in his voice made her shiver, making her feel as if she was owned by more than just his money. She wondered what made a handsome man like him even bother paying for something he could get for free from any woman he wanted.

“Fuck,” she provoked, keeping the fear on her breath tucked well behind a sweet sultry smile. She took joy in the dissatisfaction that danced on his face as she cursed. “You know how this works, then?”

“You take off your clothes and dance on my lap like a good girl?” 

“I can touch you, you don’t touch me.” she warned, and slowly fell to her knees between his thick thighs, following the hollowed drop in the melody. Henry stared down at her with a pleased look on his face, his eyes hued with wanton as she rolled the laces of her corset between her fingers and unwrapped herself like the sweetest present. 

It wasn’t her first time giving a lap dance. She worked in strip clubs outside of London, but those were much smaller clubs that held no more than 40 guests. And none of her customers looked like Big Handsome Boss. 

“That seems unfair,” he answered as she spread her corset open. Her perked nipples teased through the loosened fabric while she gave him a pouty look and pulled at the laces delicately until she was free of the confinement of her bodice. 

Henry shifted in his seat uncomfortably while she revealed her body to him. Small breasts glowed heavenly in the LED lighting, skin pure and smooth like honey. He was forced to reach a hand to adjust the huge bulge that pooled with arousal while her fingers began stalking up to his knees like two big spiders. 

Big boy, she noted, trying to deny the small electric tingle that ran mischievously between her legs.  

“Many things in life are unfair, Mister…”

“Henry.”

“Henry,” she answered, her French-manicured nails scratching his thighs, eliciting a low growl from him that made her spine crawl. “Not that I imagine that a man like you would know.”

He let out a small chuckle, she wasn’t far from being right. The hardest thing in his life right now was the fact that a beautiful nymph was dancing between his thighs and he wasn’t allowed to touch her. Yet.

The little vixen clutched his thighs tightly and pushed herself up steadily, spine curving, her breasts displayed an inch from his lips. She climbed to his lap and straddled his waist, pressing her panty-clad crotch against his caged erection. A rogue moan escaped her lips as she felt the mass of his bulge between her legs, much to the large man’s delight.

It appeared she wasn’t all immune to his spell. Her breath was shaking in her throat as she pressed her hands against his chest, feeling the hard pecs under the soft cotton of his grey shirt. Henry was sturdy and large. She couldn’t help but wonder what he hid beneath his well-tailored outfit. His biceps were bigger than her head as he kept his arms folded; those thighs beneath her ass felt thicker than logs.  

Her lustful gaze swayed to meet the sky in his eyes up close, detecting a slight imperfection in one of them: an earthly taint of brown. He gave her a slanted grin, descending to feast on the sight of her half-naked form with a flick of his tongue across his lip. 

Red flags waved at the back of her mind. This man was the epitome of danger, drenched with dark lust and sinister grins. The fact that he was a sweet, sugary treat for a starving girl made for a sinful mixture, causing both distress and stickiness between her thighs.

Henry placed both his hands on the armrests, fingers digging into the onyx leather to hold himself from grabbing her slim waist and grinding her onto his cock. Her mound felt fiery hot onto the fabric of his trousers, and the slow tidal sway of her hips did nothing but engorge him even more.        

“What’s your name, little minx?” He asked, his breath heavy and sweet with whiskey against her neck. 

She hummed in response, closing her eyes and throwing her head back while her hands held onto his broad shoulders. The dark waterfalls of her hair streamed down behind her. Her torso stretched, bare breasts a delicious sight while she danced on his groin, increasing the friction that ran like smouldering heat. 

“It’s… Lilith…” she answered, licking her lips as she felt the blood vibrating between them.

Henry groaned, enjoying the brush of her body against his. She moved in sensual waves- slow yet hard, like a storm inching an ocean. Her voice hummed softly in his ear, her almond-shaped eyes tricking him into believing he was desired, needed. 

And perhaps he was, as her lips swelled red with passion and she danced on his cock with as much urgency to please herself as to please him.

“Your real name, pet.”   

Ash closed her eyes and shook her head. “I am not allowed to tell you.”

“Fair enough,” he growled. He felt her increase the pace, pushing harder onto him. His self-control was vastly challenged. His breath became fervent fumes. He felt the moistness beneath his hands as he clutched tightly on the soft leather as if his life were dependent on it. The pulse in his organ became as rageful as a volcano.

“You look like you’re enjoying this as much as I am,” he murmured, letting his lips inch dangerously close against her neck. “I wonder if this sort of thing would happen with anyone else, or I’m special.”

Goosebumps spread through her skin, her nape felt a cold shiver. Ash swallowed hard. If this was a thriller film this was the point where she was supposed to turn back and save her skin, yet all she fancied was to push her cunt against menacing Henry and mewl as tinders of joy licked between her legs.

“Is that a problem, if I am?” She dared.   

Unable to control his body’s natural instincts, Henry broke and bucked his hips roughly into her mound, giving in to her grind, growling as the collision created sparks of fire that increased the flame between them. 

“Not at all,” he grunted, feeling droplets of sweat forming on his brow. “Only that I paid you.” 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy myself.”

And tendrils of pleasure were indeed within her grasp. Ash felt a tremble in her thighs. He was large and hard, demanding to be let inside her. She’d be lying if she didn’t want the same, imagining just how large a man of his size was. 

She wondered how he’d fuck her, would he be as slow and rough as their carnal dance, or would he throw her on the bed and wreck her till she cried. 

The dark gaze in his eyes made her lean toward the latter and darn if he didn’t look at her as if she was the most intoxicating woman on earth. Feeling the flush ride from her cheeks down to her chest, she turned around, pushing her ass against his cock instead. She wanted to come so badly, the throb between her legs mingled with the fear that tingled in her chest. She wanted to remind herself she was protected by the owners of the club and the man standing right outside, yet Henry made her doubt herself. 

And for some reason, it only made her more excited.

“Touch me!” She demanded in a voice tainted with desperation.

There was no need to ask more than once. Her handsome stranger groaned the most beautiful melodies in her ear and reached his aching hands to squeeze her breasts. They moaned together as the much-needed bond had formed. Henry’s thumbs circled her nipples while his fingers kneaded on the fat of her flesh. She knew this was a mistake, he would leave his violet fingerprints all over her skin yet her judgment was clouded by the pleasure his touch elicited on her desperate flesh.

“Lilith.” Henry gasped, allowing himself to nuzzle the girl’s hair as she seemed completely lost to her own desires. “Do you fuck your boss?”

“I’m not a prostitute.” she answered breathlessly as one of his hands climbed up to her neck and held her jaw, drawing her head back onto his shoulder. His hips bucked harder against her ass, the pounding in his cock was nothing but white-hot fury. He held her tightly while she dug her nails into his thighs. 

“Not what... I asked…” he gasped, his voice breaking between grunts.

“No.” 

Ash felt his cock twitch beneath her and his moans chanted repeatedly, becoming louder and louder. The pulsating need inside her was unbearable yet it wasn’t enough, not for her. She needed to feel something inside her throbbing cunt yet she feared breaking the rules. Henry pushed against her ass with vigour, emitting inarticulate sounds until he clutched her tightly and gasped with pleasure. 

For a few seconds, the room felt like the most radiant thing on earth.  

Ash breathed out as his hot mess was sticky against her ass. Slight disappointment danced in her chest as she didn’t share his climax and her heart was still in rageful turmoil, furious for not being let to feel the much-needed pleasure. Yet a part of her was relieved that their contract has expired. 

She might have managed to avoid trouble for once. 

“Good.” Henry breathed out, panting heavily as he tried to adjust his lungs. His hands still covered her breasts, sensing the dampness of her skin against his sweaty palms 

“Because I am your boss, darling.”  

Her mind still fuzzy, Ash let out a confused chuckle which quickly died as the man beneath her didn’t join in her laughter. The rigidness on his breath sounded dead serious and the signet ring on his pinky finger suddenly felt cold against the softness of her breast.   

“Cavill.” she called out, panic pitching her voice higher. “Henry Cavill…?”

“Mhmm.” he hummed with approval, an arrogant smile spread from the corners of his lips as he noticed the obvious shift in her mood. Still seated on his lap, she let out a trembling wheeze as her heart sank to her gut.

“You are not joking, are you?”

“No,” his voice rumbled, vibrating low and thick against her prickling spine. 

Ash felt the sweat turn cold on her skin. Giving a small turn, she was unable to determine whether she should get up or remain seated on his groin. She could see the shit-eating grin on Henry’s sharp jaw from the corner of her eye and decided to gather her shaky feet to stand, nearly losing her balance as her heels suddenly despised her.

“Mr. Cavill, I’m so sorry,” she dropped her gaze to the floor, her hands covering her breasts nervously out of the misled thought she offended him. If he felt threatening before, now she felt pure terror making her blood sting. The Cavills were the most notorious organized crime family in the United Kingdom. Their web spun across each district, and they owned half of the police force in London.

She just made a filthy mess out of the trousers of a man who kills much more important people than her.

It was very much clear to her that it would take little to no effort to make a no one like Ashleigh Carr disappear. 

The room began to feel as if it was depleted of air all of a sudden.

“Considering you just made me come all over my pants, you can call me Henry, or sir.” he corrected her in his deep voice while his piercing steel eyes focused on the obvious stain on his crotch. 

Ash blinked, terrified as Henry reached for the phone at the back of his trousers. A muscle strained in his jaw while he scrolled through the device and then placed it against his ear. She opened her mouth to apologize once again, yet was silenced by Henry holding up his index finger gesturing “wait”.

“Sean, I will need a clean suit brought to the Imperial, ASAP. Make it a dark one.”

The crime lord ended the call with a friendly yet authoritative “Cheers,” before lifting his gaze to the slender girl who still stood at the same spot with eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. Never in his life had he had a naked girl look at him with so much fear on her face. 

It was an interesting new aspect. 

Reaching down between his knees, Henry fished for her flimsy corset and pulled his heavy body upward. His long legs stretched as he stepped toward the horrified girl. Giving her a smile, he handed her the piece of garment. 

She snatched it from his hand with slight hesitation while he stared down at her, his head tilting as if to further study the features of her face. She was too afraid to break eye contact, strapping the corset back around her body without saying another word.

“Lilith…” Henry called, his spiced breath hot on her face.

“Ash...Ashleigh,” she admitted.

“Ashleigh,” Henry pronounced her name softly in his low voice, giving a small dreamlike smirk as if it was the most beautiful name he ever heard. His tongue licked over his bottom lip while he drank the sight of her in. 

“I’d like to fuck you.”

Ash stared at the man in front of her with surprise, lust still blooming between her thighs, her skin tingling with the imprint of his touch. Inside, she seared with passion and he was undoubtedly the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen with his kissable lips and crystal blue eyes.

But she detested the idea of being a whore. She never slept with a customer, nor was she willing to sleep with her boss. 

Even if it cost her life. 

“As I said, not a prostitute.”

“I have no intention of paying you,” he answered with a dry chuckle.

“You just did,” she answered and then took a deep breath, choosing not to say more. She still valued her life after all, no matter how pitiful it is. 

Henry gave her a slanted smirk and began circling her like a predator stalking his prey. Careful eyes followed him, her breath measured with every step he took. 

There was a spirit in her, warm and feisty. Defiant despite the fear that sparkled as clear as water in her beautiful eyes. In the cold, secluded room of his sinful club, he finally felt the thing he chased after for years. Passion. Desire. 

And it was booming in his heart.

“I find you interesting, Ashleigh,” he replied and shoved his hand into the pocket of his jacket, drawing out a sharp silver card.

“But I am not one to beg, nor do I take pleasure in pressuring women to sleep with me.”

The card gleamed like a knife as he held it between his digits while waiting for her to accept it. 

“This is my driver’s number, just in case you decide you do want to spend your night with me.”

*

Read Part 2

________________________________________________

[5thmarauderwrites]

The Thin Line Between Loathe and Desire — James Potter x Reader [Part I] | Request.

Requests are: OPEN.

Requested by Anonymous: “Could you do a James x gryffindor reader where they have a sort of rivalry because she keeps going around to ruin the marauders pranks since she doesn’t believe in Slytherins being ‘evil’. 💖💖 “.

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Gryffindor Reader.

Word Count: 4,9K

Warnings: Just cursing.

A/N: i LOVE a good enemies to lovers trope and i REALLY got carried away with this request lol i’m still finishing up the next part but since it took me a while to write this and the nonnie who requested it is basically waiting forever now, i decided to release the first part nonethless. hope you all enjoy it! :)

A delicious and inviting smell of food was coming from the Great Hall as the four Marauders crossed the main hallway of the castle in the direction of the door on the right side of the Entrance Hall, which guarded the stone steps that descended deep into the dungeons, where their destination, the Slytherin Dungeon, laid. The sun had already set and the thousands of corridors that made up the imposing fortress of Hogwarts were now empty and silent as the students lodged inside their own Common Rooms, resting from the exhausting day of classes and not so patiently waiting for the last and welcomed meal before they could tug themselves into their comfortable beds.

“The feast is starting soon,” Remus nagged as the boys tiptoed their way down the stone steps, feeling the air get a little chillier the deeper they went. As much as Remus loved his friends and not-so-secretly enjoyed playing harmless pranks in the other students, he couldn’t deny that James was taking things way too far this time.

“Yes, Moony, that’s exactly why we’re heading down into their nest right now!” The boy with untidy black hair that stuck up at the back retorted with an extremely pleased smile. “We’ll caught the snakes off guard by surprising them whilst they’re leaving their hole and L/N won’t be there to ruin our prank this time.”

“And here we go! Took you long enough to bring the name of your lover into our conversation Prongs,” Sirius teased with a lopsided grin as he eyed the darkness ahead of them. Remus and Peter both barked a laugh at Sirius’ words.

“Sod off, would ya Pads?” James growled, narrowing his eyes as he glared in Sirius’ direction. “It’s not my bloody fault that this – this – annoying, pretentious human being keeps ruining our fun repeatedly!”

“Oh mate, she doesn’t ruin my fun, quite the opposite actually,” Sirius grinned as he winged a brow at his best friend. “It’s extremely amusing to watch you two together.”

“I’ll have to agree with Padfoot,” Remus said as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers and shrugged lightly, a playful smile playing across his lips.

James pursed his lips and chose to ignore his best friends as the boys arrived at the end of the long staircase, facing a vast and gloomy stone corridor hedged with detailed stoned pillars and armours ahead of them. He despised Y/N L/N with all the strength he could muster, ever since she ruined what was supposed to be the Marauders’ most epic prank on their first year at Hogwarts. Just the mere thought of the y/h/c girl made his blood boil inside his veins and his heart pick up its beating pace. How could a smart, daring and sassy Gryffindor like herself stand up for Slytherins with such enthusiasm to the point of fighting with her own housemates? James could never understand how Y/N could possibly reckon that “not all Slytherins are evil” when the majority of you-know-who’s followers emerged – and keep emerging – from this very house. The boy had spent countless nights thinking about it, but that was something he would never admit aloud.

“Mate, are you listening?” Sirius’ hand rested on James’ shoulder as the latter blinked repeatedly, trying to focus on his surroundings as he was slowly snapping out of his thoughts.

“Yeah,” James mumbled, realising they were now standing in front of the blank stone wall that led to the Slytherin Common Room. “Where’s the bucket? Wormy, do you have it?” He asked with a firmly and more confident tone of voice.

“I do, Prongs!” Peter smirked mischievously whilst lifting a bucket filled with a silver, enchanted paint that shone alluringly despite of the dim light.

James and Sirius’ features lightened up at the sight, a feeling of pure excitement washing over their bodies as their minds anticipated in a very vivid picture what was about to come. Remus, however, wasn’t as nearly as pleased and happy as his friends; his face held a deep frown and the disapproval was crystal clear in his eyes as he shook his head negatively, severely glaring at his three best friends.

“Do you really think this is necessary?” The brown-haired boy asked, trying to dissolve the boys from their terrible idea one last time.

“Seriously, Moony? This is our best prank yet, we’re making history here!” Sirius exclaimed with a scolding tone, bouncing his hands in the air.

“History?” Remus asked incredulously, winging his eyebrows whilst his eyes widened. “How is writing ‘Death Eater Wannabe’ in people’s foreheads history?”

“We won’t be writing it Moony, we’ll be painting it,” Peter mockingly corrected him, a lopsided grin on his lips.

“Indeed, Wormy!” James wrapped Peter’s shoulders with his arm. “Besides, their faces will be painted with the Gryffindor colours first; the phrase that shows their true selves will only appear if they try to wash the scarlet and gold away.” He shrugged, a proud grin on.

“Sure, because a Slytherin would definitely wear their rival house colours with pride,” Remus scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It’s only obvious that they’ll try and wash it immediately!”

“Now that is not our fault, is it?” Sirius barked a laugh, earning a glare from Remus. “Lighten up a bit, would ya Moony? The paint will only last three days, the snakes will be fine.”

“Pad’s right! It’s just a fun, harmless prank; you don’t have to go full L/N on us, alright?” James grinned as he pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, shrugging lightly in the process.

“Mate, that’s the second time you talk about her in less than ten minutes, are you really sure you loathe the girl at all?” Sirius teased, squeezing James’ shoulder playfully and wiggling his brows.

“Fuck off, Padfoot!” James hissed as he shoved Sirius’ hand off his shoulder. “Let’s put our plan in motion.”

Sirius nodded, a glint of teasing still in his eyes as he stared at James with a playful defiance. After a while, he turned his attention to Peter. “Did you manage to squeeze their password from that twat Slytherin that was in detention with you yesterday?”

“I did!” Peter answered proudly and gave the raven-haired boy a small nod, clearly satisfied with himself. “I just had to brag about Gryffindor having the most creative and unobvious passwords and he quickly told me theirs and rambled about Slytherin’s cunningness.”

“Wicked, Wormy!” James bumped his fist against Peter’s shoulder in a congratulatory way, a wide smile on his face. “Very good! I think you should do the honours.” He added, winking mischievously and pointing to the stone bricks in front of them.

Peter grinned and straightened his robes as he solemnly stood in front of the wall, clearing his throat in the process. “Pure-blood” He said and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open, revealing a long passage that led to the Slytherin Common Room.

The boys hurried to carefully shut the door close before any Slytherin student could notice them lurking. From the quick glance they took around before that, they felt the room held quite a cold atmosphere, with all the flickering green lights coming from the greenish lamps that hung on chains.

“That’s quite a scary place,” Peter said weakly as a terrified frown took over his features. He was clutched at the back of Sirius’ robes.

“That’s just a Common Room, Wormtail,” Sirius said, shaking his robes so the boy would let go of it.

“A Death Eaters’ Common Room,” James shrugged, scrunching his face.

“Godric, you three are unbelievable,” Remus shook his head as he lowered it down a bit, massaging the bridge of his nose with his fingers and closing his eyes for a slight moment.

Smirking, James flickered his wand at the bucket filled with enchanted paint that Peter had put down on the floor. “Wingardium Leviosa!” The bucket flew graciously above their heads and stopped itself carefully right upon the Slytherin Common Room door. James’ devilish grin grew wider as he eyed his doing proudly.

“Come on! Let’s hide behind that pillar,” the Gryffindor Quidditch captain nodded to a carved stone pillar on their left that provided a wide viewing from the entrance of the Slytherin Common Room.

The other three Marauders signalled their agreement by nodding at him and quickly ran into hiding. James soon followed them, his wand still carefully pointed to the paint bucket. The boys – except from Remus – leaned forward expectantly, eagerly watching the door and waiting for their first victim to cross the portal.

“And,” Sirius sang, glancing at his watch whilst bouncing on his toes. “Any minute now.”

When the door swung open and the four boys eyed the little Slytherin crowd ready to make their way out, James promptly straightened himself up, waiting for them to cross the doorstep before he could turn the bucket upside-down and, therefore, maximize the casualties. At the perfect moment, the boy with hazel eyes and unruly black hair lowered his wand as quickly as he could; ready to watch the Slytherins being bathed in the magical paint. That, however, didn’t happen. The bucket stood still, floating above the door as the students passed by below it, marching in the direction of the Great Hall.

“What’s going on? Why isn’t the bucket moving?” Sirius frowned.

“I don’t know!” James answered exasperatedly, wielding his wand to the bucket and mumbling each and every spell he could possibly think of, but nothing seemed to work.

Remus did his best to suppress a laughter as James, Sirius and Peter hopelessly watched the last Slytherin student crossing the portal, closing the door behind him and waiting until it disappeared into the wall to walk away. Like the others that passed through the doorstep before him, he didn’t seem to have noticed the suspicious bucket that floated above his head.

“What the bloody hell happened?” James asked incredulously at no one in particular, coming off from behind the pillar and stopping underneath the bucket, angrily glancing at it.

Before anyone could say anything, a wicked cackle echoed through the now empty dungeon corridor and the bucket turned upside down, spilling its entire content on James, who unsuccessfully tried to shield himself with his arms.

A loud, amused laughter grabbed the attention of the Marauders as Y/N L/N emerged from behind an armour. “Nice job Peeves!” The girl exclaimed at the school poltergeist, her arms crossed across her chest whilst she leaned against the wall.

“Always a pleasure to ruin Potter’s day, L/N!” Peeves bowed theatrically, his wicked, dark eyes twinkling and his wide mouth curling up into an evil smirk.

The initial shock wearing off, Sirius barked a laugh as the poltergeist flew off the dungeons and sang cursing verses to James in the process. James glared at the raven-haired boy before turning his attention to Y/N, his fists clenched and his body – covered in the glowy enchanted paint that was slowly turning scarlet and gold – trembling with anger.

“You!” James hissed, narrowing his eyes at the y/h/c girl as he slowly started to walk in her direction.

“Me!” She teased with a grin, tilting her head back in a defiant gesture and winging her eyebrows.

“What in the bloody hell are you doing here, L/N?” He spat, getting closer to her.

“What do you think? Stopping another one of your stupid, reckless actions,” the girl retorted, pursing her lips and clenching her fists as she met James halfway.

The two stared intensely and angrily into the other’s eyes, noses and bodies almost touching as their features and shoulders tensed up with the proximity. Their fists tightened their grips as Y/N’s perfume invaded James’ nostrils and the smell of his shampoo and shaving lotion flooded her sense of smell. James could feel her hot breath dancing across the skin of his face, making it tingle and flooding him with its warmth as he did his best not to break eye contact and, therefore, lose their little battle for dominance.

“Oh, the sexual tension!” Sirius exclaimed after a while of steamy silence and James and Y/N could hear the satisfied grin in his voice. “That’s hot!”

“Sod off, Black!” The girl hit back in an outraged tone, still not backing away from James and his intense stare.

“Excuse you? Now you’ve wounded me!” The boy answered, theatrically leading his hand to his heart.

Y/N and James ignored Sirius as they seemed to be lost in each other, fuming with what they’d describe as mutually rooted, profound loathing.

“How did you know about this?” The hazel-eyed boy asked, breathing heavily. James could feel the air becoming heavier and harder to be inhaled.

“How could I not? Your big ego and self-gloating aren’t exactly discreet, you arrogant twat,” Y/N frowned deeply.

“I am an arrogant twat? I?” He cried out, getting closer to Y/N, his nose brushing against hers.

The girl jumped slightly with his sudden move but quickly recomposed herself, making sure he wouldn’t notice it. “Well, obviously.”

“I’m not the one walking around thinking that I’m so much better than everyone else, sweetheart,” he spat in response.

“Do I think I’m better than everyone else? No. Do I think I’m better than you? Definitely,” the Gryffindor girl took another step toward him, and now not only their noses were brushing against the other, but their bodies were almost glued together. James felt a tingling sensation on the back of his neck.

“Are you two going to kiss?” Peter asked confusedly, blinking repeatedly as he looked back and forth between Y/N and James.

“NO!” The two rivals groaned in unison, turning their heads in Peter’s direction at the same time and unwillingly backing away from each other.

“It definitely seemed like you would though,” Remus smirked, amused, as he tilted his head.

“Oh, fuck you, Remus John! I’m way out of this daft dimbo’s league,” Y/N rolled her eyes at her sandy-haired friend.

“I’m the one way out of your league, L/N!” James frowned, poking his tongue slightly into his cheek, clearly offended.

Y/N glared at James from head to toe with complete disdain. “I suggest you go clean yourself up, Potter. Or maybe not, if you don’t want to have Death Eater Wannabe written on your forehead,” the girl laughed before turning on her heels and walk up the corridor in the direction of the staircase, leaving a huffing James behind.

“That girl is a fucking genius,” Sirius said nonchalantly as he eyed the y/h/c Gryffindor climbing up the steps.

“Genius? She’s a nosy know-it-all who thinks she’s above everyone else!” James spat in response.

“Oh come on, Prongs! Even you have to admit that your girlfriend was bloody brilliant using Peeves to prank you with your own prank,” he grinned lopsidedly.

James in fact agreed with Sirius, but he would never admit that. “She’s not my fucking girlfriend, would you stop with that?” he gritted, clenching his jaw.

 /////////////////////////////////

 James massaged his forehead with one of his hands, rubbing the place where the phrase Peeves Rocks was written in shimmery gold, mentally thanking the damn poltergeist for having changed his original spell a bit, as he laid in his bed. He much rather having this written down than Death Eater Wannabe, that was for sure. Actually, he preferred to have succeeded with his plan and having his forehead clean and normal, but thanks to L/N that wasn’t possible. Once again, strong emotions took him by assault as the girl crossed his mind for the hundredth time in the past hour.

“I can’t believe her, seriously. Did you see the satisfied smirk she had on her face when Peeves dropped the paint on me? She’s so bloody infuriating!” James frowned, steading himself on his elbows so he could glance at his friends, who had been chatting about something he wasn’t paying attention to.

The boys rolled their eyes, immediately knowing that that would be a very long rant. “And here we go again,” Remus groaned, covering his face with his pillow.

“Who does she think she is? She’s no queen of the enchanted land of Hogwarts,” James pursed his lips as he went on.

“Bloody hell Prongs, just ask the girl out so you can both relieve that sexual tension that has been tormenting you two for years now and move the fuck on,” Sirius grinned, as amusedly as he always did when teasing his friend about the topic in discussion.

James aimed for Sirius’ face and threw his pillow with all the strength he could muster, but the grey-eyed Black boy dodged it easily. “Fuck you.”

Sirius barked a laugh and soon, Remus and Peter joined him, all of them teasing their hazel-eyed friend. James flashed his middle finger at the three boys, an annoyed frown on his face.

“She’s extremely nice, you know,” Remus said nonchalantly as he crossed his arms behind his head. “And quite similar to you.”

“Not to mention she’s bloody hot,” Sirius shrugged, winging his brows.

“Why don’t you date her then?” James asked grumpily.

“Oh I’ve tried mate, but sadly, that girl never fell for my charm,” Sirius answered thoughtfully. “Besides, I would never go for my brother’s girl.” He added with an innocent smile and a wink as he climbed off his bed and hurried to the bathroom door.

James quickly followed his steps but Sirius was faster, getting inside the bathroom and locking its door before the hazel-eyed boy could catch him.

“I swear to Godric that the next time you imply I’m interested in her in the slightest I’ll bloody hex you, Padfoot!” James shouted, smashing one of his hands rather strongly against the wooden door.

“Well, truth hurts, doesn’t it Prongs?” Sirius’ muffled voice teased him from behind the door.

“Padfoot, I’m warning you…” James bumped the door once again amidst the loud sound of laughter coming not only from Sirius but from Remus and Peter as well.

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

“You’re late, Mr Potter!” Flitwick scolded a breathlessly James as the boy opened the door of the Charms classroom after clearly running through the hallways trying to make it to class in time.

“Sorry, Professor,” the boy answered, glancing around and noticing that the only available seat was next do Y/N L/N. He immediately rolled his eyes.

“Come along,” Flitwick motioned for James to come in. “We're experimenting with Nonverbal Spells today, we've already divided into pairs – you can sit next to Miss L/N and work with her.”

Knowing it was pointless to argue with the Professor, James nodded and dragged himself with a shuffling gait to the table he was assigned to, not bothering to hide his unpleasantness.

“Hi, Potter!” The girl teased, a wry smile on her lips, as James seated next to her. “Glad to see you’re feeling well! Heard you got a nasty food poisoning that took you off classes for the past three days.”

James’ face was immediately taken over by a profoundly annoyed frown, Y/N knew very well that she was the reason he had been unable to attend classes. “The only poisoning thing in this castle is you, darling.”

Y/N laughed and faked a pout at him before turning her attention back to Flitwick, who was explaining how the pairing would work in this specific lesson.

“For today’s lesson we’ll be using the Mending Charm!” Flitwick exclaimed excitedly. “This charm, as you know, repairs broken objects. You have a shrunken desk in front of you with four broken legs. Each one of you will be responsible to mend two of them and you’ll compete against your own pair. Let’s begin!”

The class hurriedly started to work on their legs, everyone eager to be the first to succeed. Y/N straightened herself in her seat and graciously grabbed her wand from the table.

“This is going to be a piece of cake!” She said cheerfully, purposefully wanting to annoy James.

“You think you can beat me, L/N?” The boy quirked a brow.

“I don’t think I can, I know so,” Y/N gave him a skewed smile.

James huffed in response whilst rolling his eyes. There was no way he was going to let her win.

Non-verbal spells were very difficult and required a good deal of practice, concentration and mental discipline, which made performing them successfully particularly even more difficult for teenagers. The entire class was noticeably having a hard time; even Lily Evans, who were one of the brightest students from their year, was looking like she was constipated due to the amount of effort she was putting into her attempts.

“You alright there, Potter?” Y/N asked sarcastically when she noticed a swelled vein popping on his forehead as he tried for the umpteenth time to repair the legs of the shrunken desk.

“Would you mind your own business? At least I’m trying to do something here, unlike you,” James hissed in response. “Have you given up already?”

Y/N just smiled wryly at him and turned her head to the little desk, flickering her wand. The two broken legs on her end clicked together and half of the desk was standing again, two of its legs perfectly fine.

“Look, everyone! Miss L/N successfully performed the first non-verbal spell in the class! Well done, Y/N!” Flitwick clapped his little hands excitedly.

“You were saying?” Y/N teased James with a triumphant look on her face.

“You obviously cheated!” The hazel-eyed boy spat in annoyance.

“Excuse you? It’s called talent; I don’t need to cheat to beat you!” She retorted, offended.

“Yeah, right! You used some non-verbal spell that we weren’t supposed to just so mine wouldn’t work, admit it!”

“Oh, sod off Potter! Stop being a sore loser!”

“Here we go again,” Marlene McKinnon sighed from her seat, rolling her eyes like the rest of the students.

Y/N and James engaged on a fiery argument for the short rest of the class, much to the amusement of Sirius and to the dismay of Flitwick and the majority of their classmates. The two Gryffindors seemingly missed the ring of the bell that announced the end of the class and also the students leaving the classroom one by one, as once again they were too wrapped on each other to be aware of their surroundings.

“Should we tell them the class is over?” Peter asked Flitwick unsurely, as they eyed Y/N and James from the Professor’s desk, Sirius and Remus with them.

Flitwick sighed, shaking his head in defeat. “No, let them be,” he answered, starting to walk away from the classroom and motioning for the boys to follow him.

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

The full moon wasn’t gentle in the slightest with Remus. He had a particularly rougher time last night and his whole body ached with deep, fresh scars. Clotted blood covered the scratches and cuts as he laid on a bed in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had cleaned his scars and applied a potion to help with the pain and the healing process but the boy was still suffering nonetheless.

“How is he?” Y/N stormed in, asking no one in particular as she clutched into a piece of the bed curtains, frowning worriedly.

“Hey, Y/N/N. I’m ok,” Remus answered weakly with a smile on his face, trying to sit up.

“No, no, no! Stay still!” The Gryffindor girl hurried to stop him. “Godric, I was so worried! I was waiting for Sirius’ note to know if you were okay but it never came.”

“Sorry about that, he had a rough night and we couldn’t leave his side. This full moon was particularly hard on him,” Sirius apologized, rubbing her back gently as he tried to comfort her.

“Wait, does she know about Moony’s condition?” James scrunched his nose incredulously.

“Of course I do, you twat. He’s one of my closest friends,” Y/N glared at James with despise.

“Please, would you two behave yourselves and try not to fight this time? Your arguments are more painful than all of these scars combined,” Remus joked, groaning in pain as he tried to switch his position.

“Oh, come on, Moony! They’re quite fun to watch,” Sirius grinned lopsidedly, offering his hand to Remus so he could help him.

“I do agree myself,” Peter laughed, mockingly shrugging his shoulders and pouting.

Y/N rolled her eyes and waited until the boys were chatting distractedly before walking over to James, who stood a little further to them. She had a thoughtful expression and her brows were furrowed as she approached him, fiddling with her fingers furiously. James had been studying her every move curiously and noticed Y/N was uncommonly anxious, finding it strange that the overly confident girl was displaying such an unusual behaviour. The boy with unruly black hair widened his hazel eyes in shock when she suddenly leaned in the direction of his face, his figure becoming painfully aware of their proximity. An involuntary electrical current awakened his now tensed body whilst a lump started to take form in his throat, but James brushed the odd feeling with a quick shake of his head.

“What? I’m not going to bite you,” she grimaced impatiently at the flustered boy.

“Well, you leaned in out of the blue, I’m sorry if I was surprised!” He retorted with embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck and hoping that the heat he felt on his cheeks didn’t mean he was blushing.

Y/N furrowed her brows at his response, but her features slowly relaxed and a playful smile took over her lips as his words sank in. “James Potter, did you think I was going to kiss you?” She quirked her brows amusedly as she teased him, crossing her arms across her chest. “Not even in your wildest dreams, sweetheart.”

“As if I would ever dream about you,” he huffed, rolling his eyes. “What do you want?” He asked in a cold and harsh tone of voice.

“We need to talk,” she said, once again looking anxious. Y/N grabbed his arm and dragged him to a distant bed, closing the curtains that surrounded it and turning around to face a very confused James.

“Have you ever heard of the Wolfsbane Potion?” Y/N almost spat the words as she fiddled with her fingers, gazing at the floor.

“Wolf what?” James frowned in confusion, tilting his head a little.

“Why doesn’t it surprise me?” Y/N rolled her eyes, the confidence seemingly returning to her snarky self. “The Wolfsbane Potion, it’s a relatively newly formulated potion that relieves, but does not cure, the symptoms of lycanthropy.” She explained, this time staring into James’ eyes.

“Meaning?” James shrugged crankily, crossing his arms across his chest. He had no idea what she meant discussing potions with him after a long and tiring full moon. Maybe this was a prank of some sort?

“Godric, are you really that daft?” She grimaced incredulously. “Meaning that the transformation wouldn’t be as nearly as painful for Remus as it currently is. This potion will allow him to hold on to his mental faculties after becoming Moony.”

“Hold on, are you telling me that Moony would be a werewolf but still think and behave like himself? That would be awesome! I didn’t know that it was possible!” James’ features lightened up. “He would finally stop beating himself up for things he can’t control.”

“Exactly!” She smirked, nodding excitedly. “He deserves that more than anyone I could ever think of.”

“For once I agree with you, L/N,” James winged his eyebrows, a lopsided grin on. “How do we brew this?”

“I’m sorry, we?” Y/N frowned, the smile slowly fading from her lips. “This potion could be extremely dangerous if incorrectly concocted so, I’m sorry, but your average Potions skills aren’t fit for this task.”

“Average?” The boy huffed, displeased. “And I suppose yours are?” He asked with despise.

“Precisely,” Y/N shrugged, the ends of her lips curling up in a wry smile. “I received an Exceeds Expectations in my O.W.L.s.”

“Oh, yeah, because you’re so much better than the rest of us plain mortals,” James sneered in a mean tone of voice, his face completely disgusted. “Tell me, is this potion even real or did you just thought it would be fun to prank me by using one of the people I care about the most to humiliate me?”

Y/N frowned in shock as her mouth fell open and James felt bad almost immediately, noticing the hurt clear in her y/e/c eyes. “Do you think I’d ever toy with Remus’ life like that? He is my best friend too you egocentric – arrogant twat!” She spat, pursing her lips and clenching her fists with a slow, disbelieving head shake.

“Look, I‘m- I’m sorry ok? I know you wouldn’t,” he heaved a sigh, massaging his forehead as he let his head fall into his hand. “How can I help?” He added after a few minutes of silence, shoving his hands into his pockets and staring into Y/N’s eyes.

“I’ll accept your apology, only because I’ll need you to help Remus,” Y/N said, lifting her chin up as she glared displeased at James. “First, we’ll have to enter the restricted section of the library.”

James nodded thoughtfully as the two of them unsurely eyed the other.

[flowercrown-bard]

Cracked Marble

pairing: Geraskier

summary: Jaskier sees Geralt’s black eyes for the first time

content warnings: blood, self-deprication, angst

word count: a bit more than 1k

read on AO3

The world was sharp around him. Sharp pain in his chest from the gash the Aracha had torn into him, unnaturally sharp edges to everything he saw, the colours brighter than normal.

Only his own eyes are dull.

Dull and black and inhuman.

“Geralt!”

He had heard Jaskier run towards him even before he had opened his mouth to call for him. Even without Cat sharpening his senses, Jaskier’s feet on the forest floor stumbling over rocks and sticks wasn’t something that went unnoticed.

Just how Jaskier would be unable to not notice Geralt’s deathly pale skin and the spidery lines crawling from his eyes all over his face.

He was still a good distance away, but even so he was too close, close enough to see.

Geralt turned away and let his hair fall in front of his face, a vain attempt to keep hidden what no human should ever have to lay eyes on.

“I told you to stay back at camp.”

If Jaskier had done as he was told, Geralt would have had enough time to wait it out. To wait until the effects of the potion had faded enough to risk letting Jaskier see him or the night to fall and make it impossible for Jaskier to make out all the inhuman features of Geralt’s face.

Now all he could do was hope for the impossible, that somehow Jaskier would listen to him and turn back before he noticed the signs that made it impossible to ignore what Geralt truly was.

Geralt could keep his eyes averted and his face lowered, but what Geralt couldn’t hide was the roughness of his voice that made him sound almost animalistic.

“Geralt? Are you –“ Jaskier was cut off by a sharp yelp and the sounds of him slipping and hitting the ground hard. The stinging copper smell of blood filled the air.

“Jaskier!” Geralt was crouching down next to him before he knew what he was doing. His blood was rushing in his ears and everything in him screamed to make sure Jaskier was alright. As gently as he could he cradled Jaskier’s bloodied hand and felt relief calm his racing heart. “It’s just a scratch. Let me just clean it and it should be fine. You…”

Geralt’s voice trailed off and he stilled, his whole body tense and unmoving as he noticed that something was very wrong.

Jaskier was silent, his hands were unusually still and even his breathing had stopped. Only his heart was beating loudly, harshly, as if Jaskier thought himself in danger. As if -

Geralt dropped Jaskier’s hand as if he had burned it and stumbled backwards.

It took all his power not to look at Jaskier’s face, to search for a sign that maybe he was mistaken, that through some miracle he hadn’t seen Geralt like this.

But even so he knew the damage was already done. Jaskier knew and there was nothing Geralt could say or do except await Jaskier’s judgement and hope the rotten stench of fear coming from the man Geralt had dared think of as his friend wouldn’t be the last thing he had of him.

“What is wrong with your face, Geralt?” The words were sharp, cutting him deeper than the Aracha had.

Geralt wanted to flinch back, but he couldn’t risk making any sharp movements, lest they scare Jaskier off even faster. All the time Geralt had left with him was however long it took Jaskier to realise that he should run as fast and far away as he could and Geralt wasn’t going to cut this little time even shorter.

“Is this part of your mutations?” Jaskier had often been described as having a silver tongue, and so was he now spitting silver at him with these simple words and burning him like the monster he was. “Are you – is it venom? Arachas are venomous, aren’t they?” His voice cracked.

“I’m sorry, Jask.” His words were barely above a breath, spoken with as little of that growling voice as possible.

“What for?” The stench of fear got stronger and Jaskier sat up, his eyes darting frantically across Geralt’s face. “Geralt, what are you sorry for? You’re not… tell me you aren’t going to - tell me you aren’t leaving me alone!”

Warm hands cupped Geralt’s cheeks, turning his head to face Jaskier. Geralt could do nothing to resist. Not when it meant feeling that painfully gentle touch on him one last time.

“Don’t worry,” Geralt said when he finally saw the fear in Jaskier’s wide eyes that twisted something painfully in his guts. “I’ll get you out of these woods. Then you don’t have to see me again.”

“Don’t say that! Not as if it would be a blessing.” Jaskier’s bottom lip started to tremble and his voice was tight. “Just tell me what to do to help and we’ll both get out of here. I’m not leaving you to die.”

Whatever words of comfort had been on the tip of Geralt’s tongue, they never left his voice. All he could do was stare at Jaskier as he tried to make sense of his words.

Why wasn’t he eager to get going, to reach the town as quickly as possible and be rid of the mutant who had so disgustingly thought he could keep Jaskier in his life?

“Tell me what to do,” Jaskier said, determined despite the tremor in his usually so steady voice. “Is there a potion? Do you need a healer? A mage?  We can fix this, I promise-“

“Jaskier,” Carefully, slowly to give Jaskier enough time to pull away Geralt reached for Jaskier’s hands and gently pried them off his face. “There’s nothing to be done, nothing to fix.”

“There has to be!” Something watery shimmered in Jaskier’s eyes and a salty tang choked Geralt. “I won’t let you die. You’re too important to me to let you die.”

Geralt blinked. Something wasn’t adding up. “Jaskier,” he said slowly. “I’m not dying.”

“O-oh?” A shuddering breath left Jaskier. “But you’re wounded. And you’re eyes-“

“Potions. And the wound isn’t too bad.”

Jaskier was staring at him for an eternal moment longer, before he tentatively asked, “So this isn’t hurting you?”

Geralt’s brows drew together, unsure what Jaskier meant, before all thoughts left him when Jaskier’s fingers with painful tenderness caressed the skin around his eyes. “This is helping you survive?”

Geralt had to fight not to close his eyes, but he couldn’t resist leaning into the touch. He hummed in reply, unable to form words.

A smile spread across Jaskier’s lips. “Your skin looks like marble.” He sounded so awed, so relieved. “Cracked marble, like those statues artist had spent lifetimes perfecting and that are still standing despite time and the world trying to destroy him.”

“There’s that silver tongue again.” But this time they weren’t cutting, weren’t burning or hurting him. They still didn’t make sense, but they set off something warm in Geralt’s chest, chasing away the icy grip Jaskier’s fear has had on his heart. These words weren’t meant to slay a monster.

Jaskier huffed out a choked laugh. “What, is this you complaining about the fact that I didn’t sound any more artful when I told you I cared about you? My deepest apologies for it not being satisfactory, I was kind of under the impression you were about to die in my arms.”

It had been perfect. Looking a monster in the eyes and telling them you care about them? There was no ballad and no pretty verse rawer and truer than that.

“I would rather do that than see you hurt or afraid for your life.” Geralt’s voice was achingly sincere and underneath the inhuman growl lay a very human vulnerability.

“Don’t you dare,” Jaskier said and jabbed a finger in Geralt’s chest, mindful not to hit the injury. “Now get back up so I can patch you up and make sure you don’t die on me after all.”

“I wouldn’t have died back there. Not if it had meant leaving you alone,” Geralt said later, when the last traces of fear and tension had fallen off of Jaskier and he was back to scolding Geralt about not being careful enough. “Because I do it too. Care about you.”

Jaskier’s smile softened and his hand stopped dabbing at his wound with a cloth, instead coming to rest on Geralt’s heart.

“I know,” he said, looking Geralt in the eyes that were just starting to gain colour again. “And I know you didn’t believe me when I said it. It doesn’t matter. I will say it again and again. Until you believe me.”

Geralt was silent for a moment, just taking in Jaskier’s words, the way his hand didn’t tremble when touching him and how there was not a trace of fear in his eyes. He thought that maybe against all odds he was already beginning to understand. “I would like that. I would like that very much.”