#that i wouldn’t be surprised if this assignment was an excuse to not have to read over dozens of rough drafts

[always-andromeda]

[abbyshands]

hers only

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

synopsis; gf!abby does not like clara, the gym trainer who can’t keep her hands off you. so who’s surprised when she loses her composure, channeling her rage in the form of rough, hard sex?

pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader

warnings; abby’s jealous as fuck, a little toxic!abby but not really, use of a strap-on, abby refers to the strap as her dick/cock, and strap is referred to as her dick/cock, throat-fucking (with fingers), fingering, choking, pretty rough sex, degrading (slut/bitch/whore, etc), a little praise, use of baby/honey, one use of y/n BEFORE the smut (sorry, it was necessary), spanking, reader cries, abby gives reader a sensory overload, dumbfucking, etc

a/n; hello! my name is kitlyn, kit for short :) i’m a huge writer, and tlou is my latest obsession. so, ofc, i had to get this fic out for my gf, and much more to come. i hope you like this, and if you have any ideas for me to write, please lmk!

p.s.; your daily reminder (or a fun fact), abby canonically bench presses 205 pounds. i rest my case <3

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

she could only make it a few weeks before her annoyance got the best of her.

you were bulking up for an upcoming mission, assigned to you by issac. in the area you would be in, scar presence was heavy, and you wouldn’t be back to the wlf for a bit, so gaining muscle was a necessity.

abby just wished she didn’t have to watch that girl’s hands all over you to get the job done.

she didn’t understand why she couldn’t train you herself, why issac wouldn’t fucking let her. he waved her off, giving her some bullshit about “a lack of focus.”

come on. if she knew you needed to bulk up, if it meant it would keep you safe, she wouldn’t lose her focus just because it was you.

maybe.

but this was the replacement. some other girl in the wlf, hands all over you as she helped you do pull-ups. your body was covered in sweat, and you had been at this for over an hour. the girl, whose name was clara, had her hands on your hips as you lifted yourself up and over the bar again and again.

“c’mon, give me ten more. you got it,” clara said. you were looking at yourself in the mirror as you let out a grunt with each pull-up you did, on your tenth at this point. but you did your best to push through.

“clara,” you groaned. “i can’t fucking—“ you began. but your trainer cut you off.

“don’t use your breath. just keep going. i’ve seen you do it before. you got it,” clara said once more, tone firm. you didn’t think it would be a good idea to deny her. so you went on.

but you were fully oblivious to the pair of blue eyes fixed on you across the room.

you had forgotten that abby also worked out around this time to lift with manny, so it didn’t even occur to you that she was gazing at this whole thing like a hawk.

“abs!” manny said to abby, accent thick. he snapped his fingers in front of abby’s face, and abby looked at him both confusedly, but also annoyedly.

“huh? what, what is it?” abby asked. she had fully spaced out, and her cheeks were red. but it wasn’t because of the workout.

it was your fucking trainer.

“estás bien? i lost you a few minutes ago,” manny said. abby had gotten used to his habit of going back and forth from spanish to english, to the point where she knew a thing or two. so she easily responded.

“yeah, i’m fine. let’s just finish for today, okay? i’m not feeling it,” she excused. but manny could see where her eyes were.

you.

“ah,” manny said. he seemed to understand now, a look of comprehension across his face as he said that. “okay. i’ll see you back at the room, then, sí?” manny asked as he held his fist out.

abby did the same and gave him the small fist bump he was looking for. “yeah, see you.”

once manny had left, abby began to pack up her gym bag. by now, you had finished your pull-ups, and were taking needy gulps from your water bottle. clara gave you a small pat on the back once you had finished drinking.

“that was good. you got any more in you?” clara laughed.

you smiled at her, shrugging. “not sure. i’ve gotta meet my girlfriend soon,” you said. really, it was in an hour or two. but you’d have to shower, change, etc. so, to you, it was soon.

nevertheless, you figured a bit more couldn’t hurt. so, you said, “but i think i can do a few more reps.”

clara just gave you a nod. each time you would bring up this girlfriend of yours, her demeanor changed like that. she’d tense, and pause her words.

you knew what it seemed like, and obviously, you didn’t like clara. but you did kind of need her.

and besides, if abby—fuck, if abby knew? it'd be a fucking field day to say the least.

you ended up choosing back squatting as a way to finish off your session with clara. you ducked your head under the bar, elbows flexing as you removed it from the rack. you caved a little under the heaviness of it, but with clara’s reassurance, you did your best to move.

clara put her arms under yours as you held the bar behind your back. she squatted along with you, body behind yours as she spotted you.

you could only make it ten or so reps before you failed on the eleventh, much to your surprise, as it had never happened to you before. clara put her hands on your chest quickly, and helped you move the bar back up to the rack.

“sorry,” you whispered in a huff, face red from the tension your body had just undergone. clara’s front pressed to your back for just a moment, and you felt a little uncomfy. she had spotted you before while doing a back squat, but not once did you fail one, forcing her to really touch you like that.

“it’s okay, it’s okay. you did fine,” clara smiled. this time, she put a hand on your shoulder, way too close for comfort. and then, she murmured to you, her own face red. “i’m proud of you.”

oh, that was fucking it.

abby discarded her gym bag on the floor. she tossed it somewhere. she would grab it later. but she couldn’t fucking watch this anymore. who the hell did this girl think she was, hands all over you like that? and who knows what she was saying to you? that was abby’s fucking job.

and hers only.

“y/n,” an all too familiar voice said from your left, and you didn’t need to look to know who had spoken.

you were thinking, my savior, once abby’s voice filled your ears. but when your eyes moved to hers, you were sure your soul left your body.

because she looked pissed.

clara moved her hand off your shoulder, and you hated the way she did it—like the two of you had been doing way more than just working out.

“grab your shit, we’re leaving,” abby said firmly to you, and she couldn’t help but send a small glare clara’s way. you weren’t the only one feeling scared, because clara was pale as a ghost. she had known you had a girlfriend, obviously.

but it was abby fucking anderson?

neither you nor clara said a word as you packed up your gym bag. once you had, abby was grabbing you by the waist, and yanking you out of the gym, leaving clara far, far behind you.

“abs—“ you tried, you really fucking did. but abby didn’t want to hear it.

“not a fucking word.”

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

manny knew better than to come back to the room once he saw abby eyeing you like that in the gym. it wouldn’t be the first, nor would it be the last, time that abby’s temper had ended in a room full of sex.

as soon as you were inside of the room, abby was grabbing your gym bag from your hands, tossing it far away, and kissing you aggressively. you responded with a whine, but let her, kissing her back with just as much passion. her hand gripped your neck as she all but slammed you onto the door, free hand running over your body like it was a temple she was born to worship.

really, it was.

abby put her free hand under your leg and held it up, pressing herself into you as her tongue battled yours. you moaned into her mouth as her grip on your neck compressed, her fingers digging into the soft skin of your thighs.

what a good day to have worn shorts…

when abby finally pulled back, your lips were spilling with drool, lips numb and plump from the belligerence in abby’s kisses. your whole face was hot, and abby’s face was red.

and, fuck, did she look mad.

abby smashed her lips back onto yours, and kissed you all the way to her bed. once there, she pushed you down onto it and got on top of you, her large thighs on either side of your lap.

if you weren’t in for it before, you surely were now.

abby reached her arm out to open the drawer of her bedside table, and it was only a moment or two before she was pulling out a very familiar item.

her strap.

“a- abs, wh- what are you—“ you began dumbly, way too curious to find out what it was she had in mind. but abby wasn’t feeling at all gracious.

you talk when she says you can.

“shut the fuck up,” abby damn near growled at you, the kind of tone she reserved for when she was really fucking angry. you had heard it many times before. when you were on a mission and battling scars. when issac reprimanded her for being careless in the field. when mel pissed her off one too many times.

bottom line, when shit didn’t go her way.

and the idea that she felt that way now both turned you on and scared the fuck out of you.

abby was quick to secure the strap’s harness to her waist. the view of the dildo attached to it always made your mouth fill with drool: black, veiny, seven and a half inches long. she’d made you cum with it so many times you lost count, and it was a million times better than the real thing.

especially when you had abby anderson on top of you, or behind you, or below you, encouraging you to take it like the good girl you were.

she grabbed your hips with fervor, forcing you to wrap your legs around her torso once your bottoms, and underwear, were out of her way. you let out a needy mewl as she slid the tip through your already wet folds, riling you up, just like that.

when your eyes closed as an answer, abby tutted, and moved one of her large hands down to grab you by the chin. “look at me,” she demanded.

and who the hell would you be to deny that?

your eyes were weak and needy as they met abby’s, pupils big with just a touch of fear, heart pounding in your ears. abby spoke firmly, and you could tell that she wasn’t playing around.

you had left fun and games behind the second you walked into this room.

“you’re gonna take this dick as much as i want you to, over and over again. n’ i’m gonna fuck you rough, ‘til you’re babbling out nonsense. do you hear me?”

your body felt paralyzed when those words left abby’s lips, her tone dripping in anger. you couldn’t manage much, and all you could do was nod. but she was not having that.

she squeezed down on your chin, which made you whimper out. “words.”

“y- yes, ma’am, i- i understand,” you weakly muttered out, and that seemed to suffice for her. abby let up on her grip, and her hand moved down from your chin to your lips.

“good. now suck.”

you didn’t delay. you opened your mouth for abby to push her fingers inside of it, index and ring beginning to fuck it. abby could feel your drool as she pumped the two fingers in and out of you, your tongue eagerly wrapping around them.

she doesn’t give a damn in the world as she pounds them to the back of your throat, making you gag, and your eyes close and roll back as she does so.

not for long.

“open your eyes. keep ‘em on me,” abby says in a rough tone, and you oblige a little too quickly. water’s already filling the corners of your eyes, and abby can see that when she looks at you.

and she’s barely begun.

“crying for me already, hm? why am i not surprised?” abby couldn’t help but mock you. you looked so feeble like this, choking on her fingers like the whore you were.

“i’d save your tears, honey. ‘cause there’s a lot more where this came from.”

just as you’re beginning to get used to the rough feeling of abby fucking your face with her fingers, she pulls them out, and you let out a small whimper of disapproval.

but it quickly blends into a moan.

her index and ring, the two fingers that you had just had your tongue around, that were soaked in your drool, pushed inside of you without so much as a warning.

“oh, f- fuck, abby,” you moaned as the suddenness of the moment took over your senses. your thighs clenched around her as she skillfully pumped her fingers in and out of your cunt, just as she had so many times in the past.

abby used her other hand to pry your thighs back open. “ah ah, baby. spread your legs for me.”

just when you figured this couldn’t get any more forceful, abby was pushing a third finger inside of you, her middle one, and using her thumb to rub your clit.

your response was way too fast as you grabbed one of abby’s broad shoulders, digging your fingernails into the freckled skin on it. you let out a loud moan as your eyes squeezed shut, letting it all sink in. three of abby’s fingers deep inside of you, pumping in and out of your wet pussy as she thumbed your clit like a fucking pro.

“fuckfuckfuck,” you groaned, and, god, did abby like that. barely begun with you, and you were already drunk off her touch.

but then again, that’s how it always went.

“look at you, fucking soaked for me. needy bitch,” abby degraded you mercilessly as she curled her fingers inside of you, easily hitting your g-spot.

“mmph, abby…” you could barely manage.

“hush,” she said harshly. your gaze moved up to hers as she fingered you, her usual pale blue eyes big, pupils enlarged. it was clear that she wasn’t letting up any time soon. “don’t talk unless i say you can.”

you didn’t.

abby had you soaking her fingers in your release soon enough, your orgasm spilling over you. she pulled her fingers out of you and moved them to her lips, leaving not even one drop behind as she sucked them dry. the view filled your abdomen with butterflies: that was for damn sure.

if this is how she made you feel with your fingers, you could hardly imagine her dick.

and abby didn’t delay. you didn’t get even a second to process before she was lining the tip of the silicone toy to your cunt, and pushing into you forcefully.

“abby, w- wait, fuck. t- too soon,” you whimpered, but you knew abby didn’t give a shit about what you had to say. she shushed you with her hand, putting her fingers past your lips once more.

“don’t care. you’re gonna take this cock like a good fucking girl,” she emphasized the word as she thrust into you hard. “and i don’t wanna hear shit. got that?”

you nodded, and didn’t try to speak again. you just did what abby wanted you to, sucking on her long fingers to keep you occupied while she pounded into your pussy.

“clara can’t fuck you this good, can she, baby?” abby rasped as each thrust grew more ravenous, both fingers pushing deeper.

so that’s what this was all about. well, really, you figured as much. you knew clara’s behavior would somehow bite you in the ass. but now that you had abby’s words to confirm it, you couldn’t be more sure.

you did what you could to shake your head, but let’s be real. it was abby fucking anderson. speechlessness was never an answer in her books. she took her fingers out of your mouth for the last time, eager to hear you talk now.

“say it.”

“n- no, abby. s’just you. s’only you,” your tongue slurred as the words left your lips, and abby couldn’t help but get off on the way you were speaking, a smug smirk on her face.

“mmhm. only i get to fuck this pretty pussy of yours, y’hear me?” abby let out in a grunt, her drool covered hand settling onto your neck, squeezing down. she was fucking you hard, no mercy as her hips thrust aggressively, pushing herself as deep inside of you as she could possibly go.

you were more than okay with that.

“y- yes, ma’am,” you let out a groan of your own as abby rutted her hips into you, eyes locked on hers. “i’m yours. a- all yours.”

you were a whining and whimpering mess as abby gave you a nod of approval, hand gripping your neck like it was her lifeline. “that’s a good whore. mine and no one else’s.”

“how do you think days like today make me feel, huh? fucking bitch with her hands all over you, gawking at you like you’re hers. well, let me tell you somethin’,” abby snarls. she pulls out of you, tip pressed to your folds, and for a moment, you think she’s going to make you beg for her to fuck you once more. but just like that, she’s slamming back inside, going, arguably, deeper than she had before.

“she doesn’t get to have you. no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good. no one’s ever gonna love you like i do. you’re all fucking mine, like it or not. got that?”

you’re not surprised by the aggression in her tone, but, damn, is she pissed. you can feel her anger seep into your skin as she fucks you like a toy, addresses you like a doll.

and you let her.

“m’sorry, abby, m’so sorry. i know i’m yours. i’m yours, swear to god i am. m’so sorry,” you moan dumbly as she squeezes your neck.

which you’re sure will have marks to show for it tomorrow.

“i know you are, baby,” abby rasps. her hand moves from her neck to your thigh now, and she digs her fingernails into it as she slams into you. “and you fucking should be.”

and again, abby has you cumming, her name rolling off your tongue like music as, this time, it’s her cock you soak in your release. “there you go, honey. know you like when i fuck this pussy like this. that’s it,” abby whispered.

your brain was way too foggy with the aggression of this session with your girlfriend to get your words out properly.

what was is it that abby had said about making you babble again?

“f- fuck, abby. oh, fuck,” you whined, body tired from receiving your second orgasm that evening. but abby was nowhere near done with you: both of you knew that.

abby didn’t speak as she pulled herself out of you, grabbing you by the hips and flipping your body over, so that you were no longer on your back. she forced you onto all fours, your ass poking up into the air. she yanks your bottoms fully off of you from behind, underwear following, and settles her hands onto your ass.

“abby, come on, please,” you all but cry out. you’re not sure how much you can take, not when it’s so sudden, anyway. abby’s anger is slowly going away, your caring girlfriend coming back little by little. but you weren’t quite there yet.

“you’ve got one more in you, baby, i know you do,” abby says softly, and she circles her thumbs over your ass. the move is almost loving.

“and you’re gonna take it, like the good slut you are. mkay?”

like you said. almost.

you grumble, but you can’t say no. not only did you not want to, but when it came to abby, that was one of the last things on your mind. probably. . .not a good idea. so, “mkay,” is what you say in response.

“good girl. can fuck you better like this, anyway,” abby hums. she begins to take your shirt off, and you lift your arms up to help her remove you tank top. and then, who’s surprised, she unhooks your bra with ease, discarding it on the floor somewhere.

the feeling’s familiar as abby pushes inside of your aching pussy once more. you’re sore and tired, brain fucked out from abby’s belligerence. but you need her, just as much as you need the very oxygen in your lungs.

and she needs you.

as if this isn’t enough, her arms move under yours, and squeeze each of your tits. it quickly reminds you of the way clara spotted you earlier, because that was one of the very things that had caused this in the first place.

but this felt so much better.

your eyes rolled back into your head as abby rubbed hard circles into your nipples, eager and needy to get you off for the third time in a row. she knew it wouldn’t be long now. each time she fucked you like this, round after round, your orgasms came in quick successions.

literally.

abby was pushing into your g-spot once again, and the feeling of it all was almost too much. if she wanted you to babble, then she got it: because there was no other way to describe the words spilling from your lips.

“a- abby, fuck, please don’t stop. you feel s- so good, f- fuck, please.” you weren’t making any sense by now, at least not to yourself. but abby knew what you wanted.

because she knew just how to please you.

“keep moaning, baby. you sound adorable,” abby chuckled as she fucked you, hips pushing deep into a spot you didn’t even know you had. “all cockdrunk off this dick, like the whore you are. my whore.”

she just had to add that. for good measure.

“tell me how much you like it. tell me how much you like it when i pound your pussy like this.”

you were licking your lips in the neediest way as she pressed her thumbs into your tits. you couldn’t help but push yourself back into her, that fucking needy for her. “i- i love it, abby. love it so much, fuck. you fuck me so good.”

abby moved one of her hands back from your tit and onto your ass, and gave you a small spank there. “fuck, yeah, i do. never gonna get it this good from anyone else, are you, baby? not clara, not any other bitch. just me, yeah?”

“mmph, mhm,” you murmured, and, fuck, were you on the brink. of course no one else could fuck you like this. no one could fuck like this period. some days, you wished the world could see just what abby anderson had to offer.

but that would involve a hell of a lot of sharing that you didn’t want to do.

“aw, i’m fucking you dumb, huh, baby? can’t even get a word out. dumb fucking slut,” abby smirked, slapping your ass one more time, then massaging the red mark with her thumb. “who do you belong to, hm?”

abby wasn’t wrong. your brain was fogged up, cloudy as she slammed into you from the back, and you couldn’t even see as your eyes rolled back into your head for the millionth time over. your words came out messy, drunken, incoherent. “i- i b—i’m—yours, i b- belong to—to you.”

you could feel your third orgasm bubbling up inside of you as abby pounded you from the back, and she had both hands on your tits once more, gripping both of them as she thumbed at your nipples. your face was hot, your lewd moans filling the room to the brim, as abby filled you.

“f- fuck, abby, don’t stop,” you whimpered out, and you had never sounded so broken before. “g- gonna cum.”

well, that much was obvious.

abby didn’t hold you back. she encouraged you with each thrust of her hips, every one increasing in speed with each second that passed by. she was a pro at this, and she knew it.

“that’s it, honey. cum on my cock, loud, like you mean it. wanna hear you scream for me,” she said with a small grunt, and she said it like it was a demand.

you obeyed.

you were yelling your girlfriend’s name as white spilled all over the silicone that was her dick, a series of pornographic moans falling from your swollen lips. your expression was just that, too: lewd, broken, because you had never been fucked like that in your life.

for the last time, abby pulled out of you, and unsecured the harness around her torso. once she put it to the side, she couldn’t help but put her fingers to your pussy for the last time, scooping a bit of your white release onto them. you shuddered as she did so, and looked behind you, just to see her suck her fingers off.

you lay limp on the bed as abby got up to grab a small towel. gingerly, she began to wipe your body clean, beginning with your thighs. she kissed up them as she did it, and it was so, so different to the way she had been manhandling you mere seconds beforehand.

that was abby for you.

once you were both clean, abby laid down beside you, and pulled you close to her body. she put her hands on your waist, and pressed a kiss to your forehead as you snuggled into her broad chest. you didn’t even feel awkward about the fact that you were the only one naked.

if abby didn’t care, then neither did you.

“you okay, baby? wasn’t too rough with you, was i?” abby asked, her thumb circling your cheek. you smiled up at her, a rush of butterflies soaring inside your abdomen at the small rasp in the way she cooed.

“no, abs. not at all. i mean, i always knew you got jealous, but—wow,” you couldn’t help your giggle.

abby feigned annoyance by giving you an eye roll, but you could tell that she was just being playful. besides, it’s not like she could deny the fact. so she smirked. “what can i say? you just have that effect on me. besides, you have to admit—clara was way too close for comfort.”

“mmhm,” you hum.

“but maybe that was a good thing.”

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

reblogs are very much welcomed <3

———

[sun-kissy]

Hi! Can I request James's sister with Sirius, but Sirius for some reason thinks she has a crush on Regulus? Thx I love your page! <3

thank you for the request angel! ♡

date | s.b.

tw: hurt/comfort, teensy bit of jegulus

potter!reader, sirius black x reader

“Potter. Do you think using unicorn’s blood instead would make our potion have a more iridescent colour? Because that’s what Slughorn wants,” Regulus asked dryly, shoving the book towards you and pointing at a paragraph which looked like nothing but muddled words.

You look at the book for a moment before sighing, letting your eyelids flutter closed and leaning back in your chair.

“No idea.”

Your hands come up to rub your eyes, exhaustion overwhelming your senses. Regulus and you had spent the whole day in the library like crazed scholars desperate for a good grade on an assignment.

That was exactly what you were. You had been paired with him for a Potions project, and ever since Professor Slughorn had made a breezy comment about your potion-in-progress, it had been driving the both of you mad. Although you weren’t exactly friends, there was a mutual agreement that doing well on this project was necessary to salvage both your grades.

The past few weeks were a blur - late nights wasted researching in the library and early mornings spent in the Potions classroom.

You groan and sit back up, willing yourself to hear him out and make sense of the lines in front of you. You blink and look up for a second when something, or rather someone, catches your attention. Sirius stands stiffly a few metres away, leaning on a bookshelf and looking over at the two of you.

When you meet his eyes, he quickly averts his gaze and pretends to be browsing the books on the shelf. You immediately sense that something is wrong - Sirius wouldn’t be caught dead in the library. You notice the hard look in his eyes, the subtle look of hurt in his features.

A frown instantly crosses your face. Your friend had been acting weird lately, ever since your lips accidentally crashed onto his at a party - and none of you pulled away.

It was a nice kind of weird, in which he fumbled over his words and his cheeks would get rosy when he talked to you. But ever since you had been swept up into the busyness of the project with Regulus, it was like whatever spark that was set ablaze had been doused out.

Sirius brushed you off every time you tried talking to him, yet you would catch him silently gazing at you in hallways and classes then immediately looking away as soon as eye contact was made. It made you mad, but more than that, it hurt your heart that the one person whom you thought would last forever was starting to drift apart from you.

Your annoyance started to get the better of you, slowly bubbling into anger in your chest. You take a deep breath and slowly stand up, your chair dragging across the floor. “Excuse me for a moment,” you mutter to Regulus, sidling your way around the table.

“Hey,” you make your way over to the bookshelf and stand in front of Sirius. He whips his head around, a false look of surprise on his face.

“Oh, hey Y/N! Didn’t think I would see you here. Anyway, I was just searching for a book for Moony - I should really make my way back now, James wants me to… plan some pranks with him,” he smiles, his lips pressed together. It’s obvious how forced it is.

You open your mouth to tell him your brother was in detention, his blatant lie adding fuel to the fire of irritation in you. But before you even say anything, he turns around to leave.

Anger flares up within you and before you can even think, you’re grabbing his wrist, your fingers wrapping around it with a vice-like grip. “Sirius!” you hiss, so unintentionally loud that Regulus looks up from his books, surprised. You look over at him apologetically.

Sirius turns back around, frowning. “What?” You flinch at the harsh tone, loosening your hold on his wrist but not letting go. You inhale sharply. “Talk to me,” you say, softening. “Please talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on. What do you mean?” he bites back sharply, more hurt than anger in his tone.

“Let me go.” He tries to pull away, but you tighten your grip. “No. Something’s wrong, and you’re not telling me. Why are you ignoring me? What did I do wrong?” you ask, desperation seeping into your voice.

Sirius glares at you for a moment, seeming to be contemplating something. Then he sighs, his anger melting away as he runs a hand down his face.

“Fuck, you-” he gestures with his hands. “You-“ he groans and drops his arms to his sides. “Why do you play with my feelings like this? I thought we had something! I really- really thought we had something,” he mutters, his voice cracking slightly.

You feel your heart break a little. “Sirius,” you coo, moving your hand down to gently hold his. “We do. We do have something. Why would you think we didn’t?”

Upon hearing your words, he turns to you and huffs out a humourless laugh, pulling his hand away. “Really? You really think so? Don’t lie to me. I’ve seen you with Regulus.”

Your blink, your face morphing into one of confusion as you stare dazedly at Sirius.

“Regulus? You think I like Regulus?”

He frowns at you. “Of course. Why else would you be spending so much time with him? It’s like you forgot I even existed.”

The absurdity of his words brings a small smile to your face, and before you know it, you’re pressing the back of your hand to your mouth to stifle your laughter. “Oh my god, no. No way. He’s the most annoying partner I’ve ever had to work with. Why would you think I like him?”

The crease between his eyebrows softens, and you catch a glimpse of relief in his eyes, though he still seems suspicious. “You don’t? Then why have you been spending so much time with him? Going on study dates or whatever? You’re never with me anymore.”

You huff out a sigh, realisation dawning upon you. “For the Potions project, of course. Professor Slughorn said our potion wasn’t up to the mark, so we’ve been working our asses off to fix it. I really need to do well in this to pull my average up. I don’t like your brother, Sirius.”

“Oh,” he breathes out, and you can practically see the tension leave his body. “Oh. Sorry,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair.

You chuckle lightly. “It’s okay. It’s kind of my fault, I still should have made time for you. But is this why you’ve been ignoring me? You thought I liked Regulus?” you ask bemusedly. He winces and nods sheepishly, earning a laugh from you. “Siri, have you seen the way James looks at him?”

His lips start to curve upwards, his usual playful demeanour coming back to him. “I caught him drooling while looking at Reg once.”

You giggle at that, clearly imagining your brother gazing at Regulus with heart-eyes. Sirius grins back at you, taking your hand.

“So, we’re good?” he asks, intertwining your fingers together.

“More than good.”

“Great. Because I was just about to ask you out to Hogsmeade this Saturday. If you haven’t already got plans with emo boy, of course.”

“Sirius!” you whisper scandalously, trying to sound mad, but a giggle slips out and betrays your amusement. He chuckles, looking over at Regulus who was bent over a stack of papers and furiously scribbling down notes. “You better get back over there if you wanna survive till our date this weekend.”

“Date?” you ask mischievously, raising your eyebrow. “James would approve of that?”

He rolls his eyes at your feigned innocence, one hand on your shoulder as he gently pushes you back towards your table. “I’m pretty sure your brother is too lovesick for my brother to protest against it. So yes, love, it’s a date.”

[fruittt-punchhh]

Pop My Cherry!

all parts

Synopsis: your dad’s best friend is none other than Toji Fushiguro, and you can’t help but wonder what he could do with his hands.

Characters: Toji Fushiguro x reader. Choso Kamo is mentioned, not a major part of the story.

Content: Minors Do Not Interact! afab! reader, fem! reader, dad’s best friend! Toji, suggestiveness, cursing, inexperienced (ish) reader, reader is a virgin but has done things ya know, reader smokes weed, alcohol usage, pet/affectionate names, no smut yet 🫶

Word Count: 2.2k-ish

Notes: friends!!! This is my first ever smut! Pls be nice🫶 if you have any suggestions, comments, advice, PLEASE feel free to let me know!! I hope you enjoy hehe. (filthy smut if you’re down for that in pt. 2 trust) excuse any typos, proofread a bunch but I’m also human. 💖

It had been a terribly long week already, and it was only Thursday. You were on spring break from university, and you had spent most of the week catching up on overdue assignments.

You were staying with your father, as well as your brother, and your father’s best friend. He had a condo at the beach that wasn’t too far from your university, so it worked out well.

You had just finished your final essay for philosophy 200, closing your laptop with a snap! as you rub your eyes. It was nearing 3:30 a.m. but you still felt so much residual stress from the paper. You had a joint ready and waiting for you, and a hit or two couldn’t hurt, right? Enough so you could relax, maybe grab a snack, and hit the hay. You open your bedroom window, creeping out onto the balcony to let your worries fade away.

————————————————————————

You throw your leg over the window sill, trying to keep your balance. You lowkey had the munchies so you head to the kitchen before you retire for the night. Until you are met with a surprise.

Your father’s friend (you think his last name was Fushiguro?) has been gone all week for “work”. You noticed him coming in at odd hours of the night, looking worse for wear.

“What are you starin’ at, doll?” Toji says as he looks for a shirt in the laundry room.

You feel your cheeks turn red as you try to quickly avert your eyes. You wore nothing but a large t-shirt as you crept into the kitchen, hoping you wouldn’t wake your father.

You thought you heard Toji come in maybe an hour earlier, but you couldn’t know for sure. Here he stood, fresh out of the shower with nothing but a small towel wrapped around his waist. His dark hair was dripping down his back and he still looked as if he was radiating heat from the shower he just took (or was that you?) It was all of a sudden much too warm in the kitchen for your liking.

“S-sorry, I was just grabbing a snack. I’ll be quick,” you stammer. You had only ever seen Toji a few times, and you didn’t remember him to be this… attractive? You didn’t know if that was even the right word. In this moment, you felt attracted to him, sure. But you also felt small and helpless. As if he could pierce through you with his gaze alone. You truly didn’t mean to stare, but you also didn’t expect anyone else to be in the kitchen at 4 a.m., either.

He interrupts you with a smirk, “What’s the rush? It’s y/n, right? Grab me a beer out of the fridge while you’re at it, girl”

If you thought your cheeks couldn’t be any redder, you were wrong. You felt the crimson blush cover your ears as you turned around to look for a beer in the fridge. There was a (beer brand here) in the back on the bottom shelf. You tried to bend at your knees as to be discreet, but you could have sworn you heard Toji clearing his throat as you did so.

Toji slipped on a pair of black boxer briefs as you grabbed him a beer like the sweet girl you are. He felt as if the wind was knocked out of him when he saw you bend down, searching the fridge for his drink. Call him crazy, but he could’ve sworn you weren’t wearing any panties. He quickly ran the towel through his hair, trying to ignore the rush of blood he felt surging to his dick.

You grabbed the beer, as well as an apple for yourself. You walked over to Toji, and he took the beer from you with a ‘thanks’. He popped off the cap with his molars and took a big swig. You watched as the beer dripped down his chin and over his adam’s apple. You also noticed the scar covering his pretty lips.

Your eyes wandered as he finished his beer surprisingly quickly. He would usually come home covered in a mixture of dirt, sweat, and sometimes blood. Apparently, underneath the dirt and grime was a body that was sculpted by the gods. Everything about him was so big. His huge tits pecs and his ripped abdomen. His biceps were bigger than your head and his hands, oh god, his hands. They were riddled with callouses and he had short, bitten nails. His fingers were so thick and you started to imagine what it would be like to feel them on your body.

Your temperature rose as the lewd thoughts entered your mind. This is your father’s best friend! Although he was a a few years younger than your dad, he was still much too old for you. Not only that, but you were still (unfortunately) a virgin. And not for a lack of trying! You were double majoring in psychology and philosophy, so most of your limited leisure time was spent smoking to relax, or hanging out with your small group of friends on the weekends. Sure, you had masturbated plenty of times, and you’ve given the occasional blowjob. But you’ve never quite found the right person at the right time to go all the way with. You never cared much about the label ‘virgin’ until now, feeling like you might have been missing out.

Now, you were standing in the kitchen in the early hours of the morning thinking about what this man could do to you with just his fingers. The thought alone had you squeezing your thighs together, trying to give yourself any relief from the problem you’ve created.

“You know it’s rude to stare, right y/n? Especially after I asked you a question, doll”

Yet again, he’s caught you off guard. I mean seriously, how old were you? You felt like a teenage boy who had just seen his first pair of tits. You need to pull yourself together so you can get out of here as soon as possible. You didn’t know how long you would be able to hold it together without making it quite obvious that internally, you were aching.

“Shit, I’m sorry! I was lost in a train of thought, I-I guess. What was the question?” Hopefully he doesn’t catch on to your half-lie.

Toji pulls a black compression tee over his torso, giving you a moment to collect yourself finally. He throws the beer in the trash and steps into the light of the kitchen alongside you.

He flashes a toothy smile at you, “You should watch that language. Pretty girls don’t go around saying things like that. And I asked you what the hell you were doing up so late.”

Pretty girls? Did you hear him correctly? He could just be saying things to get you to squirm, and if that was his goal, it was working all too well. You hope his smile was out of politeness, but you knew enough about Toji from your father to know that this man did not have a polite bone in his body. It seemed almost as if he was teasing you?

“S-Sorry about the language, I’m just tired. I’ve been working on my philosophy paper for the last few hours and I just wanted a snack before I went to bed,” you admitted truthfully.

Toji rolled his eyes, smirking at your statement, “God, that sounds so fucking boring. I’m surprised you finished it, I woulda given up hours ago.”

You smiled at his honesty. You knew that your paper topic ‘the perception of personal space’ and your other assignments on morals and judgement were not everyone’s cup of tea. “It’s actually quite interesting, it’s about the concept of how one perceives personal space, but I definitely wanted to call it quits a few times. I’m just glad I can sleep in tomorrow.” You admit with a grin. Despite his blasé attitude, a part of you thought he might actually be listening (at least a little bit).

All he heard was bla bla bla. It seems interesting enough, if you have absolutely nothing else going on in your life. How could you even write two sentences on personal space, let alone an essay? “If it’s that fucking interesting, then why are you in here looking like a walking corpse? Have you seen those bags under your eyes? You need the sleep more than I do, hun.”

Well damn. You didn’t think it was that bad, especially not enough for some old man to point out. You had been staying up most nights trying to catch up on your work, and you could sleep in anyways. But each morning you found yourself awake at 7 a.m. on the dot, still cursed by the rigidity of your usual school routine.

“I’ve just been behind, so I’m trying to catch up while I have the free time.”

Toji peers at you and scratches his head, “Why the fuck are you doing school work on spring break, anyway? Aren’t ya’ supposed to be at the beach getting wasted with your girlfriends?”

While you admit that would be fun, there was just no time for it this year. You were in the last semester of your senior year, and you were graduating with top honors. You had to keep up the good work so you could hopefully be accepted into graduate school in the fall.

“I mean it’d be fun sure, but smoking is more my thing anyways. I like relaxing after all my work is done, so I’d rather stay here and get caught up while I can, ya’know?”

How cute. Look at you trying to be a good little student. It would almost be admirable if it didn’t make his stomach churn at how sickly sweet it was.

“That’s good, doll. Keep it up and you’ll be making big bucks just like me, yeah? What are you wanting to go to school for anyways, to be a fuckin’ therapist or some shit?”

Everyone thought you wanted to be a therapist, but truth be told, that profession couldn’t be more off your radar. You had enough problems of your own to deal with, and you certainly didn’t need to hear other people’s on top of that.

“I’m not going to school to be a therapist actually; I really want to be a professor one day. What do you do for work anyways? You always look like you just came home from war or some-“

He cuts you off before you can land a joke at his expense. Toji’s profession wasn’t the best topic for conversation, given that his line of work was very hush-hush.

“You’re cute. Next question.”

Cute?? At this point you felt like he was toying with you. But you did have another question for him.

“How come I can’t say ‘shit’ but you can say whatever you want? I’m grown, aren’t I?”

Toji shifted towards you. You stood in the door frame between the kitchen and the hallway, your apple untouched. You were too busy thinking of what to say next to the large, burly man that was suddenly peering over you. He came to the doorframe, throwing one hand on top of it. At this point, he was towering over you. His shadow cascading over you as you felt yourself shrink into the background. Toji glared at you with his velvet green eyes and a smug grin was plastered across his face. You felt his hand grasp your chin, forcing you to look up at him. Your neck was strained as you attempted to make eye contact with the taller man.

“Can’t you hear woman? I said pretty girls don’t go around saying shit like that. Do I look like a pretty girl to you?” He says as he inches closer to your face. You could smell the beer wafting from his mouth. But the smell was quickly overrun by the rest of him. He smelled like pine, cheap liquor, and…cinnamon? Suddenly, the grip on your chin tightens. His hands are so large, he’s even starting to squish your cheeks, making you look like an absolute fool underneath him.

“I asked you a question, princess.”

The name throws you off guard, but for some reason, you’re not upset.

“S-sorry, no y-you don’t look like a pretty girl. Of course not, m-my bad.”

“That’s what I thought, y/n.”

Toji spits as he releases his grasp on you, standing straight and stretching his arms as he lets out a yawn. He smelled the weed all over you and could tell how flustered you got from your little interaction. He grabs the apple from your hand, taking a huge bite which in turn means you only have about half an apple left. He hands you back your snack, pats your head then saunters over to the couch, plopping down with a grunt. He grabs the remote and turns it to some wrestling show he always watched.

You look at him, confused. You weren’t even staring this time. You were simply dumbfounded at the interaction you two just had. Surely that can’t be it, right? He’s just going to watch tv after he had you literally in the palm of his hand? (and he ate half of my fucking apple)

You move to turn the lights off, and you put your apple in the trash. Your appetite for food was long gone. You quietly walk out of the kitchen into the dim hallway. Toji calls your name, startling you.

“Sleep tight, doll.”

pt. 2

[writerslittlelibrary]

So, I'm not a prisoner?

masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 extra

summary: you did not expect that your mission to take down the traitor, could end in such a difficult situation for you…

pairing: Natasha x Red Room teen reader

warnings: fighting, weapons, stabbing, blood, implied sexual abuse

genre: fluff, angst

words: 3073

a/n: I wanted to do a fic like this for so long!!!! anyway, I just kept scouting tumblr trying to find fics like this, so I figured I’d finally write one myself :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

A quick in and out. That was your mission. How on earth did you manage to screw it up so bad. In and out. Assassinate the traitor and come right back. 

Dreykov would’ve been so proud. 

But that didn’t happen. No. Every single aspect about that night failed to go according to plan. You snuck into the event Stark had hosted, was able to blend in with the other party goers, and you were able to hide when most of the people started to leave. 

Once it was just the Avengers left, you stayed in your hiding spot, observing them. You were here to kill Natasha Romanoff, and Natasha Romanoff only. 

You could not afford any casualties, so you had it all planned out. 

You’d wait until the Avengers would leave, and you’d take Natasha out before she could make it to her living quarters. You knew that once she made it to the living space of the Avengers tower, getting to her would be a lot harder. 

However, against all odds, Natasha excused herself from the group quite early, saying she wanted to get a good nights sleep. 

You internally cursed yourself, hating that this wasn’t something that you had planned for. 

Around the couches were still some Avengers sat. You recognised all of them. Clint Barton shouldn’t be too much trouble. He was only a guy who’s good with a bow. For Maria Hill could be said the same thing, except she’s very skilled with a gun.

No, you were worried about the other Avengers still seated. Tony Stark could call upon his armour in mere seconds. Thor had the power of thunder for god’s sake. Wanda Maximoff has exceptional powers, and therefor, if you were to attack with her still in the room, you’d be immobilised in an instant. 

You were fairly certain you didn’t need to worry much about Bruce Banner. Sure, he could turn into the Hulk, but he didn’t turn often, and lately, the Hulk hasn’t been spotted in the battlefield, meaning he probably had many trouble turning into him. 

Pietro Maximoff shouldn’t bring you a lot of trouble either. 

Your main concern were Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. One Super Soldier you could handle, but two? While fighting the rest of the Avengers? That wasn’t going to work. 

Lucky for you, Wanda Maximoff had excused herself from the gathering a while ago. If you didn’t make to much noise, she wouldn’t be much of a problem. You could be outside before she’d even make it to the party deck. 

Your original plan was to just wait. Natasha Romanoff would have usually sat through a party until far into the evening. You’d know, you’ve been watching her for weeks. 

However, now that Romanoff has announced she was returning to her bedroom, a slight panic ran through your body. 

Dreykov gave your 5 weeks to finish this assignment. That’s longer than any assignment you’d ever been on. You could not disappoint him with this. You had to kill the traitor. 

You figured now was your only chance, and so, as Natasha Romanoff made her way towards the elevator, you followed her. 

However, not even to your surprise, she stopped in the middle of the hallway. 

“You know I’m an assassin, too? You’re good, but you’re not un noticeable,” she states, calmly turning around, being met with a gun to your face. The moment she stopped, you were wise enough to draw your gun, holding her at gunpoint for any sudden movements. 

You could see a slight surprise appear on her face, before her face returned to her poker face once again. 

“You’re just a child…” Natasha spoke slowly, seeming almost disappointed. 

“You’re a traitor,” you spoke, loading the gun, taking a step closer. Natasha simply shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she spoke, before leaping towards you. You shot your gun, but Natasha was too fast, avoiding your gunfire as she ran past you, back to the other Avengers. 

How on earth could you have missed that shot? She was right there.

Pathetic. 

You don’t hesitate to run after her, determined to finish this tonight. 

Very much not to your surprise, the moment you run back into the party hall, the Avengers are already standing up and ready. Ready to fight you.

You don’t hesitate to move forwards, and after fighting Clint Barton for mere seconds, you quickly realise they have no intention of hurting you. You could use that to your advantage, and you do.

You kick Barton hard, leaving him on the floor, heaving for air as you move forward, taking on Maria. 

However, the moment you get close to Maria, two strong arms wrap around your body, pulling you back. They’re holding you tightly, and it doesn’t feel like they’re planning to let go. 

You struggle in the hold, fighting against who ever is holding you as you try to break free. A small panic runs through your body. The fear of being captured by the Avengers taking place in your mind. You do not fear the Avengers, but the thought of being seen as a traitor by Dreykov hurts your heart more than words could describe. 

“Stop struggling. We can help you,” you hear a voice behind you speak, and you soon come to realise the person you’re fighting is Captain America himself. 

No wonder you couldn’t get loose. 

Knowing it’s a Super Soldier, you’re quick to outsmart him, making him think you’re getting tired, relaxing your body is his hold. Because of this, the Captain lightens his grip a bit, giving you enough room to wiggle your arm free, moving it backwards to hit him in the face with your elbow. 

Because of the surprise, he lets you go, allowing you to stand again. 

The moment your feet hit the ground, you dash forward, holding up your knife as you use everyone’s shock to your advantage. 

Everyone is surprised by your capability of escaping Steve’s grasp, not realising your already moving towards Natasha again. You reach her quickly, stabbing your knife into her stomach as far as it can go. 

Natasha gasps, and you pull the knife out, watching as all the blood starts to seep from her stomach. 

Slowly, Natasha sinks to the ground, Maria catching her, helping her down. 

You move towards Natasha again, determined to get the job finished, but are quickly stopped by another pair of arms wrapping around your waist. You immediately recognise the metal arm, knowing that the Winter Soldier holds you in his grasp. You can’t escape him. You never have. 

He pulls you backwards, pushing you to the ground as he tries to punch you. However, you regain yourself quickly, rolling away from under him and kicking him in the face. 

Suddenly, you’re moved across the room. You forgot the damn speedster…

You raise your knife quickly, stabbing him before he has a chance to make another move. 

“PIETRO!” you hear a voice yell, and you turn your head to the right. Shit. Wanda Maximoff must have heard the commotion and went down to take a look. You have to get out of there. You will never win a fight with her.

You move quickly, running towards the stairs. However, before you could reach them, you felt a stabbing pain in your left shoulder, the sound of a gun shot following soon after. You had been shot. Bucky Barnes had shot you in an attempt to slow you down. 

But you didn’t let it. 

Instead, you went towards the stairs a little quicker, dashing down the hundreds of flights of stairs to get to the main floor. 

Of course, all SHIELD agents on the main floor were already expecting you, and you were followed by Steve Rogers, but you were quicker than him. You knew that. 

You dashed past all the SHIELD agents, avoiding their gun fire as you made it towards an emergency exit. 

The moment you stepped outside, you started your escape route. You already planned it, knowing exactly which way to go, no matter which way you would exit. 

Steve followed you outside, but the moment he set foot outside the door, you were gone. You had disappeared into the night, leaving no trace. 

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

Back in the Avengers tower, the team was recovering from your attack. Natasha was in bad shape. Your strike had been an attempt to murder her, and you didn’t miss any organs as you pierced your blade through her abdomen. 

Pietro was much better. He was back on his feet quickly, seeing as though you stabbing him hadn’t been a murder attempt. You merely wanted to distract him. 

It didn’t take long for Natasha to get back on her feet either, even though she was advised to stay on bed rest after the surgery. 

Natasha was determined to find you, and she quickly got to work. 

Even though you had made it out of the Avengers tower quickly, you were still hurt, and some of you blood had fallen on the floor as you made your escape towards the stairs. Clint and Maria had collected that blood, running multiple tests, only to find out you were not registered anywhere. 

There was no record of your existence. Were you just another ghost story?

What they did find were traces of the Super Soldier serum. However, they were modified, almost as if they were genetically a part of your system. 

Did that mean you were just another Hydra experiment? Natasha did hear you calling her a traitor. That had to mean you knew Dreykov, right? Who else viewed her as a traitor. I would make sense. Sending a modified teenage assassin after her, knowing Natasha was above killing children. 

Even in the Red Room, she always hesitated when sparring against the younger students. 

Dreykov must have had a lot of faith in you to send you after her. Natasha can only hope you’re not a graduate yet…

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

After the incident in the Avengers tower, you had fled to Germany. You figured it was best to leave the United States completely. And why would they ever search for you in Germany? 

You had rented an apartment, loving the small town you had chosen. Dreykov had given you 5 weeks to finish the assignment, and now, you had only 1 week left. There is now way that you’re going to succeed in killing Natasha within the week. 

They know you are after her now, and they will be prepared for you to make a return. You screwed it up.

Sloppy. 

Right now, you were just heading back to your apartment. You had taken a walk, deciding to make the most out of the freedom you had in the moment. The week would be over soon, and the moment Dreykov would send for your return you are certain you will not be seeing daylight any time soon. 

After you arrived in the apartment building, you instantly felt watched. 

Had the Avengers found you?

You made your way up to your apartment, pushing the key into the lock and walking through the small hallway. Someone was in here, you could feel it. 

You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, keeping your back towards the living room. 

“There are not a lot of places to hide in this apartment,” you spoke aloud into the emptiness of the apartment. Soon you heard a set of footsteps, and you felt another presence enter the room. 

“You’re very skilled for your age,” you heard a voice behind you say, and you immediately recognised it as Natasha’s. 

“And you are stronger than you look. I mean, even for you, I didn’t expect you to be on your feet so quickly,” you stated, turning around slowly. Natasha wasn’t holding a weapon in your face, something you were definitely expecting. 

You scanned her quickly, seeing the weapons she held on her belt. 

She didn’t come unarmed. Good. She’d be stupid to. 

“I don’t mean you any harm,” Natasha said, taking a small step forward as she held her hands in the air, showing you her every movement. 

You didn’t look impressed, instead just staring at her as she moved. 

“Then you are a fool,” you told her, and you spotted a small smirk flashing over Natasha’s face. “And you are very full of yourself,” she said, moving towards the kitchen island, leaning on it. 

“I can’t say I blame you. You took on a lot of the Avengers on your own. Even two Super Soldiers. That’s impressive,” she stated, giving you a small smile. You didn’t return it. 

“What? Jealous someone better took your place when you betrayed us,” you asked Natasha, determined to get on her nerves.

Natasha’s smile dropped quickly. 

“Quite the opposite, actually. I hoped no one would ever have to go through it again,” she told you, a hint of regret almost identifiable in her expression. Now it was your time to give her a small smile. 

“You think you’re so important that everything should’ve ended with you?” you asked her, moving towards the kitchen island as well, setting your glass down, still holding onto it. 

Natasha shook her head.

“What I am curious about, however, is the genetic Super Soldier serum that runs through your DNA,” Natasha paused, adjusting her stance before speaking again. “Tell me, was your dad a Super Soldier?” 

You let out a huff of amusement, surprising Natasha. 

“You think I believe you’re just here for a conversation? There are SHIELD agents placed on every corner of every street. Don’t think I didn’t notice it. The lovely young couple, drinking coffee at the restaurant downstairs? Amazing disguise, if you were trying to trick nine year olds,” you stated, finishing your glass of water. 

Natasha smiles, clearly impressed with your observations. 

“You’re right. I’m not here for just a conversation, although I do hope we can prevent violence,” Natasha started, but before she could continue you interrupted her. 

“You’re here to bring me in.” 

Natasha nodded, and the look on her face was almost apologetic. 

“No one needs to get hurt. If you just come with me, there’s a big chance you could avoid confinement,” Natasha explained, yet you just scoffed and shook your head. 

“Avoid confinement? Yeah right. There is no way, that after what I have done, your people won’t lock me away.” 

“I can be very persuasive,” Natasha simply replied. 

There was a small silence. Natasha knew you were debating your options. You didn’t seem like a brainwashed sheep. She knew that you knew better than trusting Dreykov’s lies. Sure, you still believed she was a traitor, but there is no way that you didn’t see that what Dreykov is doing is wrong. 

“You know going back after a failed mission will result in punishment,” Natasha started, trying to get through to you. Trying to give you that little push you needed to go with her. “If you go with me, you’ll never be punished like that ever again,” she finished. 

You looked up, deep in thought.

“How could you be so sure?” you asked her, and Natasha didn’t hesitate to respond. 

“We can keep you safe-”

“I found you. I nearly killed you. Who’s to say some other Widow won’t come after me as well?” you replied, and Natasha gave you another small smile. 

“I escaped the Red Room when I was 20,” Natasha started. “It took him 12 years to send someone after me. We will make sure we’ll take him down before he even has the chance to come after you.” 

“How many times, did you try to kill him, exactly? Because I believe you attempted his murder twice already, both of which you failed. You blew him up in Budapest, and then another time when you took the air facility down. Do you honestly think you’ll succeed now?”

Natasha shook her head, seemingly recollecting her thoughts. 

“I failed twice, and that was sloppy, but both times I didn’t have the Avengers on my side. You ran the moment you saw Wanda. You know what she is capable of. Taking down the Red Room for good shouldn’t be too difficult with the Avengers on our side,” Natasha explained, yet you just shook your head. 

“I’m not like you,” you told her, yet Natasha just looked at you in confusion. 

“I’m not some disposable widow like you were. I’m more important,” you explained, and Natasha gave you a sad smile.

“Everyone is just a disposable widow to him,” she started, but you interrupted her. 

“I’m not. You tested my blood. You know I carry the Super Soldier serum. I’m not just some girl he picked up from the streets,” you explained, and Natasha gave you a small nod, encouraging to keep going. 

“I can’t explain it, but he won’t just let me walk. He put too much time in my creation. He would never just let it go to waste,” you finished, looking down, avoiding Natasha’s gaze as you turned around, putting your glass by the sink. 

“We’ll help you. I know that we can,” Natasha tried. 

“Is it worth the risk? My life is not great, but it’s not terrible either. Dreykov values me, and I am not treated like a piece of meat, unlike you might suspect.” 

“So the punishment is worth it, then? Knowing that in three days time, Dreykov will have you be recollected, and once you return to the Red Room, you’ll be punished severely for a failed mission,” Natasha paused, allowing you to let her words sink in. 

“Or, in three days time, you could know you can go to bed without worrying about someone joining. You could know you can be safe, and sleep through the night without anyone disrupting you. Knowing that, is the choice really that hard?” Natasha finished, and you were almost at your breaking point. 

Was it worth it? Was going back the best decision? Dreykov would hurt you, you knew that, but you deserved it. Didn’t you? 

“Please, just come with me. We can help,” Natasha spoke, nearly begged. 

You sighed deeply. 

“Fine, but if you put me in a cell, I will go on a murder streak,” you told her, and Natasha let out a chuckle, before seeing your facial expression, and realising you were dead serious. 

“Duly noted,” Natasha said, before motioning you towards the door. 

What had you done…

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @simp-erformarvelwomen @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @mxximoffswifey

[sleepiexx]

Can’t Lose You

Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!Reader

Note: way late to the party of writing for Ghost but y’know I had my fun

Summary: A mission goes slightly off plan, Simon doesn’t take it too well.

Warnings: he yells at u lmao, mention of injury, mention of blood, mention of stitches

Word count: 1190

Mere seconds after the rest of the team cleared out of the room to take off gear and rest for the night, leaving Ghost alone in a room with (Y/N), he snapped. The stress of the recent mission got in his head. It brewed nothing but trouble for him, anger festering until it boiled over. Namely the part where (Y/N) went into the enemy compound by herself— as she’d been ordered to do— when, unbeknownst to the team, her comms were cut leaving them with no way of telling whether she was alive or dead for a large chunk of their assignment.

It all worked out in the end but that did nothing to quell Ghost’s simmering rage.

“You’re a bloody fucking idiot.” He growled, “It’s like you don’t care about your own god damn well being. You’re completely fucking reckless, do you even realize how easily you could have been killed!”

(Y/N) was surprised at Ghost’s hostile behavior, normally they were on good terms. If he was mad at anyone, it was never her. Not to mention that the situation had in no way been her fault.

She scoffed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and anger, “I was fine! Barely got hurt, I don’t know why you’re getting your panties in a twist over nothing.”

He knew he shouldn’t be this mad, the rational part of his brain could reason that it wasn’t even her fault. But he wasn’t thinking logically, he was thinking emotionally, and to him yelling seemed the only way to express big emotions, “It may not be this time, it may not be the next, but if you keep on like this, some day you are going to meet the consequences of your actions and it is not going to be pretty.”

By then, (Y/N) was pissed, “Jesus Christ, it’s not that serious, Ghost! This is my fucking job! I don’t see you getting onto anyone else like this. What, do you think I can’t handle myself because I’m a woman or some shit?”

“No it’s not that it’s-“ because I love you, “it’s-“

She was sick of the arguing and frankly could not stand the fact that he wouldn’t refute her claim of sexism. She never pegged him as the type, but sooner or later, most military guys showed their true colors.

“Yeah, while you try and think up some shitty excuse, I’m going to go get cleaned up.” She stood from her seat quickly, black dotted her vision.

Ghost watched from behind, confused as she stood there swaying for a moment. Quicker than he could catch her, she slammed to the ground.

He was filled with alarm as he yelled out to her, “(Y/N)!” He was at her side in a split second, turning her onto her back.

“Fuck.” He muttered. She was out cold.

Ghost didn’t even think, it was second nature to help her. He pulled her off the ground, one arm behind her back, one under her knees. With her in his arms, he sprinted to the infirmary.

“Medic! I need a medic!” He screamed as he neared the infirmary.

All heads turned towards Ghost holding (Y/N) in his arms. Any medic who wasn’t previously occupied with an injured soldier ran towards them.

“What happened?” One of them asked, putting on latex gloves.

Ghost was shaken to his very core, even stuttering out a simple response was hard. “She just- she just fell, I don’t know.”

(Y/N) was taken from his arms and moved to a cot where they removed all of her gear. Her green shirt was heavily stained with blood, just below where her bulletproof vest ended.

“Fucking hell.” Ghost whispered. His hands made their way to his head to rake through his hair but he was stopped by his mask. Instead, he ran his hands up and down his head.

He felt horrible. He spent this whole time yelling at her instead of checking if she was okay and she wasn’t. He shouldn’t have been yelling at her in the first place, he only now realized that. He wasn’t mad, he wasn’t even disappointed, he was scared.

They lifted her shirt, revealing a huge gash that was overflowing with blood. The medic who was wearing gloves pressed gauze down harshly on the wound to stop the bleeding as another medic ran to get the suture kit.

14. She ended up getting 14 stitches in her abdomen. The wound narrowly missed her internal organs; had it been a hair's width closer, she’d be in a lot worse condition than she found herself in.

Ghost was mortified, she could have died. She could have died and the last conversation they would have had would have been him yelling at her for something he wasn’t even actually mad about.

He sat at her bedside, mask rested on the table beside him. He didn’t want the mask to be the first thing she saw when she woke up; he figured that it would scare her, and he’d antagonized her enough for one day.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. His thumb rubbed over the knuckles on her limp hand. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

Simon tilted his head towards the ceiling, blinking away tears. “It’s just… I can’t lose you, (Y/N). I know- I know you are more capable than anyone else at your job. Hell, I’ve seen it, seen how good you are at what you do. But, (Y/N), I love you, and I dread the day that someone gets the upper hand on you and you get hurt and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.”

He stopped his monologue the moment he felt her hand squeeze his back. His eyes shot down to see hers blinking up at him.

“Good thing that won’t happen,” she rasped. She parted her hand from his only so that she could reach for his face. “Where’d your other face go?”

“My other face?” He snorted, holding her hand to his cheek.

“Your skull.”

“Oh.” He said, glancing towards the mask on the table. “Didn’t want to frighten you.”

“It’s gonna take a lot more than that to scare me, Lieutenant.”

Simon shook his head, half disappointed that she hadn’t seemed to have heard his confession, half relieved.

“Oh and Lt.?”

He perked up to her calling him, “Yeah?”

She sat up ever so slightly before pulling him towards her in one swift movement, pressing their lips together. He was shocked by her actions but caught on quickly, kissing back with double the amount of passion she kissed him with. Her hands found themselves interlocked behind his neck while his came to clasp around her waist.

As they parted— hands still glued to the spots on either body that they held onto with a death grip— a spit trail kept them connected.

“Gross.” (Y/N) laughed, triggering Simon to laugh as well.

She stopped laughing to stare into his eyes, the ones that gleamed with love for her. “In case you couldn’t tell,” she started, “I love you too.”

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

I really liked that one ask from before where the MC paired up with an NRC boy to do the flour baby project, could I ask for a repeat of that but with Silver, Vil, Floyd, Idia, and Ortho?

Floyd Leech:

You cannot leave your flour baby alone with Floyd as it will be in harm's way; he convinced you of this even more when he began talking about survival of the fittest, and his other siblings that never made it through the gauntlet. It practically feels like Floyd is the one you’re really looking after, especially when your attention leaves him for even a second as you tried to focus on the baby. You think the teacher must hold a grudge against you to put you in this situation but you’re determined to turn him into a father figure (and you might die trying).

Idia Shroud:

Idia wished the school would get with the times and just give a game simulation type project rather than making him lug around a flour sack in a diaper all day. It was like a Magikarp holding an Everstone, doomed to stay in its useless state forever. It almost led him to an existential crisis as he had a nightmare of himself turning in a bag of flour, never able to enjoy trolling online or flexing how much smarter he was when it came to technology ever again. You do help ground him (and perhaps add a different stress) by being closer with him, this surprise event giving him the perfect excuse to spend time with you despite the flour sack in the room.

Ortho Shroud:

Ortho doesn’t get the point of the assignment as the sack of flour could never properly simulate taking care of a real child. He’s excited to do this project with you thought, listing off every parenting tip he could find until you practically thought you were in a reality where you were pregnant (regardless of how capable of that you really were). He’s fiercely protective of his flour baby, glaring (and nearly vaporizing) an innocent school chef who mistook his baby as a misplaced bag of flour. Ortho even offered up a tearful goodbye, keeping his fond memories of raising his baby with you locked away somewhere safe where he’d never forget.

Silver:

Silver takes the project seriously, but his sleep prone habits leave you a little worried your sweet flour child may be kidnapped by a group of birds and never seen again. He dutifully keeps it strapped to him while patrolling, sometimes even forgetting it's there as he questions why everyone keeps looking at him. This project is your first glance at the sweeter side of Silver, leaving you enamored with a man who showed genuine kindness and care to even an inanimate object.

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil loathed the thought of lugging flour around all day, not thrilled with the concept it might dirty his uniform at some point. He’s not about to get a failing grade either, showing a determination to glam his baby up. You mostly follow his lead on this one for the sake of his happiness and your sanity, knowing he wouldn’t go too far. You almost found the small dog outfits he put on your flour sack child cute. It’s like they were having their own father/child bonding time, with Vil even showing them his favorite films to share a little moment together (before he felt entirely too stupid and tried to forget about it).

[selfishdoll]

WHAT A WASTE ! ft. feitan portor ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

▌   you wanted it so bad, you don’t get to stop.  𐚁֙࿐ㅤㅤ it’s a shame, truly a shame; you being unable to contain yourself whilst your classmate examined your body for an assignment. but it’s fine, really— feitan doesn’t mind completing a detailed exam.

CONTENT WARNING(S) 𐚁֙࿐ㅤㅤ ooc feitan, please understand it’s been a minute since i’ve watch hxh & i’m going off my own interpretation plus a bestie’s. so if you expect him to be the perfect characterization you have the wrong fic | heavy degradation w/ minimal amounts of praise | strangers to ? (will there be a part 2.. maybe 🤭) | spanking | manhandling | usage of the words “slut, minx, & whore.” | all is consensual & feitan asks ofc | multiple orgasms | dacryiphilia | unprotected sex | creampie | cowgirl | reader is taller then feitan but he’s stronger then her | pussy slapping | overstimulation | hair pulling | softer feitan at the end? | impact! play | hints of sadist(?) feitan | accidental recording | feitan “threatens” to send the video to their professor (he wouldn’t actually do it, far too possessive..) | bitch is used once | etc. if i forgot something please let me know.

AUTHOR’S NOTE 𐚁֙࿐ㅤㅤ i’m sure assignments like these are not actually done but i got the idea randomly when seeing fanart of him. also expect more works of feitan, chrollo, & maybe the other adult characters except hisoka. also he wasn’t as mean as he should have been because i’m a very sensitive person & it shows in my writing 😭. and always please excuse any typos & grammar mistakes. 4K+ WORDS

Snap! The sound of the thin gloves had you jumping for a split second, eyes carrying away from the phone taking in your position on your bed to the man standing just a few feet away from you. Feitan Portor, a classmate you’ve never got the pleasure of talking to. Which wasn’t surprising at all, given he ignored just about everyone in class.

Eyes focused on his notes, the textbook, or glued to the images of the human anatomy your professor would plaster upon her smartboard. Those were the only instances you could remember of the unimpressionable man.

Yet now, here he was; in your room adjusting the gloves on his hand whilst you waited ever so patiently.

Becoming a surgical resident was a grueling process on its own, but having to work with the most quiet man alive just made it even worse. You felt so uncomfortable, wondering if you should speak or not— if it was alright to breathe.

As, no matter where you looked, said, or did; he seemed to be agitated.

Or maybe that was just his face, who knows?

A step in your direction caused the thoughts to dissipate, eyes flicking over to the man that stood off to the side of you. His eyes looked at you expectantly, impatience enveloping his gaze. Such intensity caused a sheepish sorry to escape your glossed lips, pushing off the slippers you wore with a hum. You then turned your body to lay across your plush blankets, arms stuck to your sides whilst your head rested on your pillow. A soft breath flew from your nose, tensing the moment he stepped closer.

The idea of the group project was being able to label the muscles of a human off paper. You were sure this type of assignment was for closer students but you drew the short end of the stick. Then again, it wasn’t too bad; Feitan didn’t seem like the perverted type— you highly doubted he would take advantage of such a situation.

His form moved closer, knees pressed against your bed as his hands hovered above you. Feitan’s eyes fell to your legs, mentally deciding to start there first.

Which.. wasn’t the best for you.

As his hands dragged up from his ankles and further; lips moving to utter the muscles beneath your skin— you felt a warmth brew inside you. Was it the feathery touches? Maybe you were touched starved even..

Either way, as he got closer and closer to your middle; you felt the heat threatening to spill over. Fuck.. you were done.

His hands were.. warm, the feeling seeping through the thin blue gloves he wore— large, a complete contrast to his smaller form, which barely reached your bust. They ghosted you perfectly, teetering between respectful and disinterested as they brushed your covered hip. Maybe you really were touch starved, or maybe an inkling of attraction towards the man rested deep within you. Either didn’t matter given the little gasp and flinch that escaped you was clear as day.

Feitan’s hands stopped just on your lower stomach, eyes snapping to your face. Oh, was he annoyed. Aggravated you had interrupted him whilst attempting to complete the assignment. Your manicured fingers bundled the plush blankets beneath you, lips parting slowly to speak;

“‘M sorry..”

“Your constant twitching is bothersome.” The man hissed softly, eyebrows brushing close as his face turned to glance back down your body. “A single touch and you’re trembling..” Feitan spoke, actions solidifying his words the moment a hand grasped your hip, thumb pressing into your plump, covered skin. The warmth you felt from his hand was stimulating, trickling between your legs— causing the plush limbs to push together. An action the man caught easily.

An annoyed sigh escaped him, hand withdrawing from your body whilst his eyes bore into your form. “What a waste.. getting aroused during an exam, specifically when we were so close to being done.”

“I am not.. I am not aroused.”

The man sucked his teeth at your words, eyebrows pushing even closer together as irritation formed his features. Feitan remained unmoving for a moment, simply staring you down before he leaned over, taking your cheeks in a tight grip and lifting you a bit off the bed. “So you’re not only a slut, you’re a lying one at that.”

A hiss tugged his words, fingerprints pushing into your heated skin whilst his eyes stared you down— daring you to deny. A stranger he was, nothing more than a classmate yet; here you were, so open and pliable for him. Staring up at him as if the venom spewing from his lips were the sweetest things ever.

Your head tilted down just a tad, gripping the sheets as you struggled to hold his gaze. “‘M not a slut either.”

“A pervert then—“ Feitan countered easily, fingers tapping against your skin while tilting his head. The moment your lips pulled into the tiniest pout a grin was pulling his own, thumb reaching over to press against your glossed mouth, “— is that more fitting? You laying here; waiting so desperately to be touched..” Feitan removed his hand from your face slowly, watching in amusement at the way you tried to follow his grasp.

“What a display really.. the only thing that is missing, is you begging.”

The anticipation welling inside you was threatening to explode, thighs pushed close as the heat rose within the room. Feitan enjoyed such a sight, piercing eyes taking you in— interest for once swirling in his irises. Finally, his eyebrows rose, even going as far as tilting his head.

Breath escaped you as you took him in, Feitan Portor your classmate and very much a stranger. And despite such formalities here you were, gripping the sheets, lips parted as pretty pleas escaped you.

Feitan sighed softly reaching down once again, taking your cheeks in his hand; a grasp you’ve already come to adore. “Speak up.” He hissed, fingers pressing into your hot chubby cheeks whilst his gaze never left you.

“Ple..please Feitan, please— I need you..” You cried out, eyes dipping down as the embarrassment settled in. Feitan didn’t allow this to settle for long, hand dropping to collect your chin more and pushing you to force the gaze.

“Need me?..” His tone was airy, a snicker even passing through his lips; such sound causing further shyness to trickle down your spine. “We’ve only just met.. just interacted,” Feitan drawled and not so gently pushed you to lay across your bed, crawling over your form. Your legs parted to rest on other side of him, gripping the sheets in excitement.

“And yet, you need me. Such a desperate thing, aren’t you?” Feitan dipped down close, hands pressed on either sides of your head, hovering just above your face. He watched as your eyes fluttered close, surely expecting a kiss. Instead his face was dropping to your neck, teeth sinking into your skin abruptly.

The hiss, mixed gasp that escaped you was loud, hands flying to his black shirt whilst he sucked and bit into your skin; dark marks forming from the attention. His hands moved across your body, falling down to your thighs— sliding under them to push them even wider. Once satisfied he was moving in closer, pushing your dress up to your stomach whilst using his free hand glide across your covered slit. Your hips rose to find friction, yelping the moment he pinched you lightly.

“Quit moving..” Feitan huffed, fingers pressing just a bit harder against your covered wetness, finding your clit and slowly stroking it. The little sparks of pleasure were sweet but barely enough, the burning impatience brewing inside you caused a whine to escape your throat. The dark-haired male clicked his tongue, eyes flicking from your thighs to your face. “Impatient slut..” He hissed, hand pulling from your covered, wet cunt.

You wanted to whine again, but instead— Feitan forced a sharp yelp out of you the moment his palm struck your pussy. Your thighs closed around his hand, tears springing into your eyes as the pleasure and pain combined into a single, sickeninly sweet feeling. The grin on his face was telling, clearly delighted by the high pitched cry that escaped you so freely.

A sound he chased; pushing at your thighs again and slapping the exact same spot. A wet sound entered the room, followed by an even sharper cry from your mouth. Your body rose up off the bed, cunt throbbing from the attention as your heart pounded against your chest.

A snicker, one far too sinister escaped the man above you, pushing your thighs back down to the bed. “Hurts doesn’t it?..” The humor was clear in his tone, pushing you even wider as his eyes trained on the prize between them. “As if I could tell, making such a mess all over your sheets.” Feitan claimed, reaching over and finally; peeling your ruined panties from your body.

The undergarment was tossed to the side, his thumbs pulling your folds as his eyes focused completely on your wet sex. Clit throbbing, hole clenching around nothing, you truly were such a mess.

“Feitan..” You spoke softly, nearly shifting under his gaze if it wasn’t for the quick glare he sent you. You decided to simply bunch your dress up in your hands, eyes fluttering closed the moment his fingers gliding across your abused slit.

Slowly, the man collected your arousal onto his still gloved fingers, the thin latex pressing against your wet cunt. And without warning, two digits were pressing into your awaiting hole; sinking all the way down to his knuckles. Feitan didn’t wait for you either, scissoring and thrusting them in and out of you— the soft squelches soon filling the room.

Your moans escaped you freely, acrylics gripping your dress as your legs threatened to close. His fingers hit all the right places as precise and calculated as he was with suturing. So perfect.. fuck, so so perfect; you felt your brain getting hazy, cries of pleasure escaping as his fingers pushed against your hot gummy walls— essence spilling with each push.

As if the pleasure couldn’t get any better his thumb lowered to your begging bud, teasing it for a moment just to hear you whine— right before rubbing harsh circles into the sensitive button. Feitan’s eyes captured it all, free hand gripping your other thigh to assure you didn’t move an inch.

If you wanted.. needed him so bad, you would be sure to take everything he gave you.

Once the third finger pushed in, you were thrown off the edge; groaning at the sudden stretch yet moaning as it worked in tandem with the other fingers. He played with you so easily, pushing spots with just his fingers— much deeper then your own has ever reached.

“F—fuck.. Feitan.. feels soo good—!”

Feitan grinned down at your display, listening to the breathy praises that continued to escape you. How you begged so much for a release, hips rising to meet the thrusts of his fingers; withering beneath him. “What a fucking mess..” He drawled, eyes flicking to his hand to watch your sticky arousal coating the blue latex. This only caused his expression to deepen, quickening the pace of his hand whilst hanging his head; mouth brushing against your ear.

“This was the only thing you were thinking about, weren’t you? The moment I walked into your bedroom, you were just itching to feel me.. such a perverted slut— [Name].”

His words, tone, the way his fingers bullied your insides; Feitan was just so fucking mean. Yet here you were, eyes rolling to the back of your skull while the loudest moan escaped you, making a mess of his hand. Your arousal trickled down his fingers to his palm, ruining his glove even further.

However, even as your orgasm raked through your body his fingers never stopped moving; pushing you further and further, sensitivity rising as breathy whines escaped you. Forgoing his threat from earlier, your hand lowered to his wrist. With each movement the muscle was tensing, your thumb pressed against his pulse to feel his rapid heartbeat— in sync with your own.

“Ca—can’t fuck it’s too much!”

Such noises fell on deaf ears, his pace continuing but not moving your hand. The man wouldn’t dare say he enjoyed your grasp around his wrist.

“Too much?..” Feitan mocked, gripping your thigh when you attempted to shut your legs. The pretty whines escaping your throat was answer enough, his eyes gleaming with excitement as his thumb continued working circles into your clit; fingers never faltering inside your wet walls.

From just his fingers, just his fingers you were so lost. A fucking babbling mess whose long forgotten the entire purpose of him being in your room.

Your stomach tightened, the feeling bordering on painful, as your next orgasm got closer and closer. Pushing through the pain, your hips rocked against his fingers, desperate for the euphoric feeling again— only for it to be snatched away the moment he removed his fingers.

Your clit throbbed, hole fluttering around nothing as your hazy gaze soon focused on the man between your legs. The annoyed moan that escaped you was shameless, lips slick with your saliva pushed into a pout. “Why’d you.. I was so close!” You spoke, watching his eyelids lower.

Feitan moved to hover over your body, hands sinking into the spaces beside your head whilst pressing his hips to your own. “Said it was too much, right? Or are you already too fucked out to remember?” His hips moved slow, grinding the hardon within his pants into your wet, uncovered slit, your essence darkening his bottoms.

You weren’t given a second to dwell on his words or even muster a reply. Because the moment his hips moved yours were as well, head knocking back against your blankets as the light pleasure danced up your spine; stirring you inside. Your hands rose to bunch his shirt in your fingers, shaking underneath him as the desperation oozed from your heated body.

Feitan’s hand rose, taking your braids in a secure hold, pulling your head up from the bed to bring you a breath’s away. “Humping me like some bitch in heat.. So fucking needy.” A hiss hugged his words, as if aggravated from your actions. However, he was far from irritated, far from angry— enjoying you far too much.

You just looked so pretty like this; wet trails running down your chubby cheeks, dress and blankets wrinkled, with your legs wide— a clear invitation to ruin you even further. The sight was.. unbelievable, one he was delighted to keep all to himself.

“Feitan, please..” You dragged, hips pushing against him more, craving the friction and something else. He should have slapped your thigh or even pinch you for your impatience but fortunately for you, Feitan was just as needy. A huff escaped you as he released your hair, hands dropping to your hips. You silently questioned this, only for him to pull you up, you in his lap with his legs hanging off the bed.

You hovered above his lap, watching intently as he shoved off his bottoms; revealing his hard, long length. The tip was bubulous and red, a contrast to his paler skin. What’s more, pretty white pearls of precum oozed from the slit, twitching from the cool air in the room. Your hands found his shoulders, eyes flicking to his face as nerves settled in the pit of your stomach.

Feitan didn’t do much to ease your anxiety, even finding it a bit comical. His hand rose, shifting under your dress to stroke the dimples etched into your lower back. “What’s wrong?.. Don’t tell me you’re backing out now, [Name].” He watched as your eyebrows pushed together, lips pulled into an annoyed pout.

“I’m not..” You huffed softly, nails digging into his skin as your hips lowered just a smidge, jumping the moment his tip bumped against your throbbing bud. “Just.. g—give me a second.” You spoke, hips moving, lining his cock up with your entrance. A whimper escaped you the moment his tip breached the warm space, sinking down slowly whilst more breaths escaped you.

His hands were steady on your body, holding you up and watching in excitement as you trembled. Your walls clenched around him, slick coating his length as you reached just the middle. The stretch teetered between painful and pleasurable, eyes closed shut as you allowed yourself a moment of rest. A moment that dissipated rather quickly, given Feitan lifted his hips; shoving his length the rest of the way inside.

You tipped over, leaning into him as a sharp whine escaped you. You fisted his shirt, seated completely in his lap as huffs escaped you. “Feitan—!” You cried out, feeling his hand lift to the back of your head, taking your braids in his hand as he lifted you from his form.

“Such a crybaby..” Despite his words, his eyes searched you for any discontent or actual pain, lip tucked behind his teeth. When he found neither — ignoring the light feeling in his chest — the man’s hand fell to your hips, gripping the plump flesh. His fingers dug into your sides, lifting you up off his length until only the tip resided inside— before pulling you back down.

The moan that escaped you was far too sweet, nails pushed into his skin as your hips began to move without restraint. You were so uncoordinated, so fucking messy as you bounced up and down his cock; whimpers thrumming from your throat. The sounds carried around the room; the wet slaps each time you slammed down, your desperate moans, and the subtle grunts Feitan would release every so often.

With each moment of your hips his tip was striking the sweet spot inside you, your walls clenching around his slick length— fresh tears beading and threatening to spill over. A hand rose from your hip, driving up the plane of your stomach to grip one of your breasts; pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers just to hear your voice pitch.

Feitan, Feitan, Feitan! His name was falling from your lips like some type of prayer, knees digging into the mattress as the pleasure consumed your body. You were so fucking lost, lost in the throes of it all with only him to guide you. A faulty anchor he was, pulling you deeper and deeper; leaving your mind so hazy and bleak.

The show you were unveiling was such a delight, the man far too happy to have the front row seats. He pushed closed, hips rising to meet your drops as he grew just a breath’s away. “Keep clenchin’ me so much.. you’re close aren’t you?” Feitan’s voice was ragged, feeling your breath fan across his face. The whimpers that escaped you was enough of an answer, his hand rising to your throat to simply hold— placing his lips onto your own for the first time this afternoon.

The kiss was as heated as the rest of the room, as intense as the moment his hands settled onto your skin. Feitan’s tongue intruded your mouth, licking into the wet cavern to claim as his own. And the moment you attempted to pull away to breathe, his teeth were sinking into your bottom lip; swallowing you back up.

It didn’t matter if you were on top or not, you and him both knew who was in control.

Your hands rose, curling into his black tresses as you felt your peak approaching quickly. You moaned and whined into his mouth, legs shaking as the band tightened deep in your stomach. The tears were flowing freely now, Feitan releasing you this time to hear the haste babbles that escaped you.

“Fu..fuck Feitan! I—I’m gonna come—!” You cried out, the bounces becoming even messier. You felt his hot hands fall to your ass, slapping a cheek as if encouraging you to ruin yourself even further.

“Fucking minx..” Feitan hissed out, eyebrows pinched close, cock twitching within you. “Make a mess than.. don’t hold it.” The confirmed huff was enough for you, creaming all over his dick as you arched into him. The feeling caused a shiver to run down the man’s spine, hissing as you clamped around him.

As you rode out your high, your movements slowed— lurching forward the moment his palm slapped your ass again. The high-pitched whine that threatened to escape was quickly overshadowed by his words;

“I never said stop, did I?” His hand traveled to your hair again, tugging just to hear you whine again. “You wanted it so bad, you don’t get to stop.” Feitan spoke, gripping you to keep you grounded before lifting you up and off his length. The added fact he was matching each thrust was enough for you, head tossed back as the moans slipped from your bruised lips freely and shamelessly— eyes meeting the back of your skull.

The breathes that escaped you was strained, the pleasure far too much but you being unable to run from it. It seems his height went to his strength, holding you so fucking tightly you couldn’t move an inch. Leaving you defenseless, making you take every inch without mercy. The sensitivity dissipated quickly, leaving behind unadulterated ecstasy that caused stars to invade your vision.

Proper words no longer escaped you, babbles of his name and praises replacing such intelligible speech. But Feitan knew enough what you were trying to say, grin still plastered on his features, like some type of madman.

You were sore all over, struggling to keep going but so desperately chasing the release that was bubbling inside of you. You fell forward, forehead brushing his own as his tip brushed your cervix. The pain mingled with the pleasure easily, cunt pulsating around him as you felt yourself grow closer and closer.

In the past hour Feitan had grown to know your body. Each twitch, spasm— everything. He didn’t need to be warned of your climax, especially since he felt the way your walls clenched with urgency. Such a feeling pushed him closer to his own end, blunt nails etching crescents into your sun-kissed skin as he rose up off the bed; fucking you even harder.

The two of you leaned forward for a sloppy, messy kiss; moaning and groaning into the other’s mouth. The hurried slaps of skin on skin contact intensified for a split moment before stuttering as the man spilled inside you.

This was enough for you, coming on his dick again; your releases mixing together and trickling down his cock. Slowly, the two of you pulled back from the kiss; a string of saliva connecting your lips.

Your chests brushed against each other, breath heavy and fanning against the other. The flat of his palms pushed against your waist, pulling back to look at you. “Get off me.”

“Give me a moment to breathe, Fei.” You spoke, used to his harsh tone by now. Despite the small annoyed sigh that escaped him, the man didn’t push you off; even leaning back onto his hands and allowing you to remain in his lap— length still inside your wet sex.

A pleased sigh escaped you, arms tightening around his neck as you leaned into him fully. His eyes darted to the side of your face for a moment, an unreadable expression crossing his features.

A comfortable silence covered the room for a moment before Feitan spoke again, amusement etched into his words;

“I wonder if the professor will like our.. exam.”

Your eyes flew open at this, glancing down at the grin plastered onto his features. Sure enough, the moment you turned, you spotted your phone on your tripod— still recording.

The next ten minutes was spent fighting the shorter man for your phone, him managing to grab it, and you pleading for the video to not be sent.

FEEDBACK & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED <3

[marvelsmylife]

Best friends brother

Pairing: Liam Mairi x reader

Plot: you have a crush on your best friend's hot older brother.

A/n I'm still in denial about what happened to our precious boy

You’ve had a crush on your best friend's brother for as long as you can remember. He was so cute, and unlike other guys around that age, he wasn’t an asshole.

At first, you thought it was just a tiny crush you thought you would get over, but as years passed, your crush grew stronger. Always blushing when he said your name or even looked in your direction.

You were devastated with Sloane when Liam left for Basgiath. You wrote him letters every day. Telling him how much you loved and missed him. Of course, you never sent them. One, because they can’t receive mail their first year, and two, because you didn’t want him to know you had feelings for him.

So you had the letters hidden for months until it was time for you to enroll at Basgiath as well. You burned those letters before you and Sloane left your foster home and made your way to your new home for the next three years.

“We made it ! ! !” you told Sloane once you passed the parapet.

Both of you were shaking once you made it to the other side. Sloane grinned at you before looking over your shoulder. “What are you looking a-” you began to ask while looking over your shoulder and froze.

Liam was running towards you guys. It took you a few seconds to process what was going on before Liam pulled both you and Sloane into a hug. “Gods, I’m glad you two made it !” Liam pulled away and began to examine you and his sister, “I’m assuming you guys met vi.”.

You were going to ask him how he knew until he pointed to your hair. “Yes, we did,” Sloane replied before looping her arm with mine, “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have somewhere else to be,” and dragged you away before you had the chance to utter a word to Liam.

After being assigned to your squad and being startled by Varrish’s dragon, you and Sloane made your way to your rooms, which happened to be across from each other. You were thankful that your rooms were across from each other’s because you wouldn’t have to travel far to get to her room.

Once settled in, you ventured into the dining hall to get something to eat. Not knowing where to sit, you and Sloane sat at an empty table. You were so engrossed in your conversation that you didn't notice Imogene sitting beside you. " Can we help you?" Sloane asked.

"Your brother sent me," Imogene replied as she looked at you and Sloane and said, “He wants me to train you two. He's worried one, if not both of you will die during challenges, and just by looking at you two, I agree with him.” You wanted to be offended by her words, but she was right. You and Sloane didn't know how to fight because you weren't grouped with people who knew how to fight. Nodding along, Imogene continued, “I’ll train you two and anyone else who is having trouble.”

You were terrified at the thought of training with Imogene, but glancing over at Liam’s table, you noticed a reassuring smile on the blonde’s face. “Ok,” you sent Imogene a nervous smile before turning back to Sloane and began talking about something random to change the subject.

You immediately took up Imogene's offer to train after assessment day and began training with her any chance you got. To your surprise, you were becoming one of the best fighters from your year and caught the attention of Liam. He was impressed with how much you improved in such a small time frame.

His gaze was always on you as you skillfully took down opponents twice your size. What he appreciated the most was that you encouraged his sister to train on your days off. She wasn’t improving like Liam had hoped, and he wanted to force his sister to train but knew she wouldn’t listen to him. That’s why he pulled you aside and begged you to get Sloane to practice on her days off.

“Of course I’ll help,” you bit back a smile at Liam’s request, “I want her to succeed as well.”

By the time threshing came around, you were at the top of your year and helped Sloane improve with the extra training sessions on your time off. You also ended up bonding with a green daggertail named Artemis. You were relieved when you bonded with Artemis because you heard only ninety dragons decided to bond this year. Even though you were top of your year, you were still afraid a dragon wouldn’t select you.

After the roll-keeper recorded Artemis’ full name to confirm that you bonded, you spotted Liam walking over to you with a smirk plastered on his face. “How does it feel to be bonded to a dragon?” Liam asked.

“Surreal,” you answered honestly, “I’m just surprised she picked me.”

You shouldn’t be surprised, you are the best of your year. It is my honor to be bonded to you, Artemis spoke to you.

A soft smile appeared on your face at your dragon's words. You were the best of your year, and you intended to keep it that way.

“I’m not,” Liam brought you back to reality, “You’re a fucking beast on the mat and even managed to get Sloane to improve her fighting skills. You should be proud of yourself.” Liam paused for a second before adding, “I am.”

You couldn’t help but grow shy at Liam’s words. Liam noticed and laughed, “It’s good to know I still have an effect on you.”

Your eyes widened at Liam’s words, realizing he knew about your crush on him, “You know?”

“Of course I know,” Liam laughed harder, “You aren’t really subtle.” Your face grew hot. “Sloane also knows. That’s why she forbade me from being around you when we were younger. You’re her best friend, and she didn’t want to risk us getting together.”

Of course, Sloane would threaten him to stay away from you. You remember her telling you that she stopped talking to the majority of your now ex-friends because they were trying to get with Liam. Liam approached you and caressed your cheek, “I know you and Sloane are best friends, but being around you these past few weeks and getting to know you as you, not my sister's friend. I found myself developing feelings towards you.”

Your heart started pounding as you watched Liam leaning in to kiss your lips. You allowed yourself to enjoy the kiss until a familiar voice broke you two apart. “I knew this was going to happen one day, but I’m still disgusted watching it unfold,” Sloane had a sour face while staring at us.

You hid your face against Liam’s chest out of embarrassment. Liam noticed your embarrassment, held you protectively, and responded to his sister, “If you don’t like it, don’t watch.”

Sloane flipped him off before walking up to you and pulling you away from her brother, “Come, let’s celebrate us being bonded riders now.”

Looking over your shoulder, you spotted Liam shaking his head at his sister’s action and sending you a wave. You gave him a small wave before turning your attention to your best friend, who was now setting up rules about your potential relationship with her brother.

[mirrorbvllhoon]

SACRIFICE (Hades!Jay x Persephone!fem!reader!)

So dangerous

Full of darkness like a criminal

But here you are

Full of brightness and light

₊˚ ✧ Sacrifice (Eat Me up) (Dark Blood)

WC: 3.9k

Warnings: angst and fluff, Jay being a gentleman, slightly suggestive, being tricked into kidnapping someone, Zeus being Zeus.

Through the fields of the earth wandered the goddess Demeter and her beautiful daughter y/n, their mere presence made the trees and bushes blossom with all kind of gorgeous leaves, when their feet touched the grass flowers sprung, fruits and vegetables were bornt from the earth, the mortals were happy as they could feed from the gifts the earth goddesses gave them.

However in Mount Olympus, the city of the gods and goddesses another story was being written, it was no secret that the young goddess was beautiful, with her long hair and beautiful factions, truly blessed by the gods beauty, but although she was already of age to be wed, her mother wished for her to remain virgin as Artemis and Atena, and if life hadn’t occurred as it did, as herself.

Even when y/n had been just a little girl, Demeter had already talked with the goddess Aphrodite and her son, Sunghoon, so they could stay away from the love business that could interfere with her daughter’s life, but the gods of love were tired of not being able to interfere in the love-lives of the gods and goddesses, although their presence wouldn’t be necessary for love had already a way of appearing in the life of the young goddess.

“Let me see if I understand, you are promising y/n’s hand to me?” asked Jay, the god of the underworld.

“Brother, you have been alone enough centuries, don´t you believe?, you’re telling me that you really don’t wish for a companion?” Zeus answered, hoping for his brother to agree

Jay hesitated to answer, being one of the gods aphrodite and his son weren’t allow to control it’s love life and living in the underworld, where his only companions aside from cerberus, the furies and Sysiphus, were the souls waiting to reincarnate and love again, of course he felt alone, not only was he feared by the mortals but even the gods and goddesses all just because he was the ruler of the tartarus, something he didn’t even choose but was assigned to him, being in love couldn’t hurt, at least that’s what he told himself.

“I’ll take your silence as an affirmation” Zeus answered, taking Jay aback from his thoughts

“Wait, does she know? or well?, is she okay with me being with her?”

“Of course she is, even Demeter believes you would be such an amazing husband”

Jay tried not to doubt his brother’s words; however he knew that changing his mind would result in a far more difficult task, so he just sighed, hoping that whatever was to happen wouldn’t result in something he and others would regret.

“So, when should I meet y/n?”

“Oh, she’s in the forest almost everyday, so you should find her there, and… Jay, make sure to surprise her”

He should’ve known that Zeus had just tricked him, but he didn’t know, he just went back to the underworld, to continue his monotonous excuse for a life, hoping that the next day would arrive, so he could encounter y/n.

And then the sun rose, and as promised, there was y/n in the middle of the forest with the nymphs, picking flowers and fresh-cut fruit, however in the middle of their day, an earthquake shook the earth,the nymphs were scared, yet they decided to abandon y/n searching for her mother, since the god of the underworld was powerful enough to kill them all, but even before they were gone, Jay took y/n and through the valley the earthquake had created that connected the underworld to the earth, both of them dissappeared in the glimpse of an eye.

“Where am I?” asked y/n, hoping that the answer that was about to come off his mouth was different than the one she was thinking about.

“Of course in the underworld” Jay answered nonchalantly, a smirk drew on his face.

“Why did you bring me here? What do you want from me?” y/n answered, her eyes teary, shock was taking hold of her.

Jay let out a sigh, the smirk falling off his face, his nose scrunching and the already warped crown in his head crooked by a millimeter, threatening to fall from his head while he shook it nervously..

“You didn’t know, did you?” He asked, fear in his voice enveloped with a slight level of shame and regret.

“Know what?, I don’t know a thing about what's happening” Her voice was breaking and shaky, filled with melancholy and uncertainty.

“Zeus, my brother, promised your hand in marriage, he said that Demeter, your mother, and you, knew about it already”

“Well I can assure you, we in fact didn’t know a thing… so can’t you just take me back to the surface?”

“I’m afraid I can’t, I made a deal, a blind deal if you will and I can’t break that, but even if I did break it, I can take things or souls of the living world to the underworld, but I can’t give things from the underworld to the living world. I’m sorry darling”

She nodded, “I guess that even gods have their limitations” she left a bittersweet giggle, her knees giving up on her, her body was fainting, she would have fallen to the floor if it weren't for a pair of arms that held her.

Jay stood beside her, his arms holding her torso and because of the lack of chairs he dropped her gently to sit on his throne, once she was sat down, he spoke, his voice was still but sweet.

“Although I live in the underworld, I can assure you that I’m no monster, you can stay here for as long as you wish, I’m sure that someone will come looking for you, you’re loved by mortals and gods, when that time ought to arrive, you’ll be free to go”

“You promise me that?”

“I do”

The day had almost finished, and sleep was already taking hold of y/n who wandered through the underworld, Jay, down in his throne, could notice that; but the young goddess was too stubborn or scared to ask him where she could sleep for the night, so she just rested on a rock not so far from where Jay was seating, doing the duties he as a king of the underworld had to do, receiving the new souls that arrived and seeing the records of the deceased and reincarnated… When he noticed the young girl asleep on a rock that seemed far from comfortable, her face flinched at some moments, yet she tried to sleep unsuccessfully.

Jay stood from his throne and walked towards the young goddess, her face was beautiful as every inch of her, of course he couldn’t deny the fact she was perfect, even asleep she looked ethereal, yet… she didn’t love him, he reminded himself. He stopped wandering in his thoughts and sat at her feet, holding her hand to try and wake her up, which took no effort, she wasn't asleep yet.

“If you want to sleep, you can do so in my chambers, I assure you they are more comfortable besides I barely sleep after all” He started talking, his thumb soothing the palm of her hand, while she sat to talk to him face to face.

“It’s unnecessary-” Y/n started, however Jay interrupted her before she could even finish her words “That’s nonsense, you will sleep in my chambers that's the end of the discussion” Jay and y/n’s eyes interlocked for a second that felt like an eternity, a smile drew in her face contrasting Jay's cold features, that only hid the warmness of his soul. “May I?” He asked, one of his hands under the crook of her knees and the other one on her neck, y/n nodded, allowing herself to be carried again.

Y/n could see the view over her, Jay's sharp features and the crown in his head slightly crooked, she tried to fix it which led for her to play with his hair for the smallest of seconds y/n was so concentrated she missed the smile that drew on his face, of course y/n didn't know the crooked crown was intentional, yet Jay couldn't allow himself to tell her so.

“Thank you darling”, he said quietly, she nodded.

Once they finally arrived at Jay's chambers, he dropped her carefully on the bed.

“I know that's kind of cold in here, I will search you for a blanket or for something you can cover yourself with...” he continued rambling, until Y/n’s voice interrupted him.

“Jay, I don't mind the cold” she said with a smile on her face, fear continued to dissipate from her system, maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

“Well not yet, but soon it will get colder”

Her mouth opened agape, she didn’t say a word, and allowed him to go out and find her something to cover herself.

“I hope that if you fall asleep I won't wake you up, I apologize in advance if I do” Jay said, she nodded while laying down on the mattress.

He closed the door as she closed her eyes, and hours passed by, the underworld was indeed a cold place, with the river styx carrying souls, and the deceased wandering through the voidless place, shivers started to appear on Y/n’s sleeping body, and while Jay tried to find her something that could actually cover her and give her some rest, he kept failing, the underworld wasn’t made for a goddess like her. When he finally found a blanket that would keep her warm he went back to his chambers, with a shivering-already sleeping y/n, her body was in a fetal position, yet when Jay covered her body, the shivering didn’t stop, he was afraid of what could happen to her if she kept being cold, so beside his hate for using his powers he created a small fire on the hearth, to keep her warm, he repeated himself maybe he should've done that from the start.

“Don’t go…stay…please” y/n voice was a mumbling incoherence yet Jay could make it out, he sat down at the end of the bed, until he decided it was his time to leave, he tried to tuck the young goddess in, when her arms opened and a hug engulfed him.

At first he tried to run from the hug, not because he disliked it but because he was sure once y/n woke up, she would regret it, feeling guilty because of grabbing her, if only he hadn’t believed Zeus.

Jay stayed the whole night allowing himself to sleep just to do the goddess company, and in the night he didn’t even notice how he unconsciously hugged her with the same intensity she was holding him with.

The second day arrived, this one went almost unnoticeable, Y/n was surprised by Jay’s kindness, and even if she couldn’t recognize it, she felt slightly attracted towards him, however she reminded herself, he only took her to the underworld because of a deal he had made with Zeus, and because he was being tricked, he wasn’t really in love.

“Y/n, I asked if you wanted to see the river, I mean if you don’t you can say so” Jay’s steady words finally took her out from her trance, she nodded. “Then you can come with me” he said.

Jay showed her the river, charon the boatman took both of them from one end to the other, and while y/n stood most of the time staring at the river’s water it was Jay’s reflection what she was really looking at, once on the other side of the river, they walked alongside it, while the view was mainly formed of rocks and stalactites of dark colors and strange shapes, she kept looking astonished at the marvelous immensity of the underworld.

“I know it’s not as beautiful as the earth” Jay started, staring at her through the reflection of the river.

“Such nonsense, I believe both places have their charm” Y/n replied,

Jay chuckled at her words, and for the first time she heard him laugh, he extended his hand for her to hold and follow him, so she wouldn't get lost, as if that could even be possible, the truth was he wanted to keep her close even if he couldn’t admit it.

The second day had ended, and as the night before him, Jay took y/n to his chambers, prepared the fire and stayed there with her, this time they stayed awake longer, y/n kept talking about her life in the earth and how she longed it, Jay heard every word of her mouth as if it was hypnotizing him, “I’m sorry, I haven’t allowed you to talk, I must be boring you right now” Y/n said, turning her head down in embarrassment, “You could never in the whole eternity bore me” Jay replied, taking her chin with his hand, their eyes interlocking once again, she could see him this time even more perfect as before if that were even possible, his crown perfectly over his black hair, his sharp features only looking more appealing in the dim moonlight, and all he could see was her, in her breathtaking beauty, in the darkness of the underworld and in the dim light of the fire, she was angelical. Their bodies started to draw near each other, Jay’s hand already sneaking to y/n’s cheek.

“Thank you for being so kind to me” Y/n said, drawing back herself.

“Of course darling, is the least I could do after all” Jay answered, 《of course she wouldn’t kiss me》, he thought, maybe he had mistaken her kindness for interest.

They went to sleep that night with tears in their soul, both of them kept resisting the obvious tension in between them, afraid of what would happen if they gave in.

Suddenly it was the fourth day of y/n in the underworld, she was losing hope, maybe her mother had forgot about her, and while Jay kept being sweet towards her, it continued to be difficult to her resisting his charms and beautiful words, she couldn’t deny the fact she was starting to fall in love with him, if only she knew he felt the same way.

She spent most of the time wandering in Jay’s palace, which seemed as endless as his kingdom, however she felt alone, he kept ruling his kingdom hoping that his duties could distract him from the fact she was in love for the first time in centuries, however he couldn’t resist no more, and decided to search for her, he needed to talk to her, to confess his feelings, maybe it was selfish of him, maybe it was wrong yet, in that moment all he could think about was y/n.

Y/n was in the outskirts of the palace, watching the river flow in silence, allowing her to put in order her thoughts, what she would do, debating about the feelings that flew through her mind, she had promised her mother to maintain herself virgin, but her mother would understand wouldn’t her? she was in love, true love.

“Y/n!” Jay shouted from a distance, she put herself on feet and started walking towards the palace again “Y/n, please tell me you are still here” Jay kept mumbling to himself after being unable to find her, yet she continued to run, hearing the sound of his voice drawing her in.

Both of them had decided, they were in love, there was no cure or power for that, there wasn’t an arrow or a curse or a prophecy, it was only them, it was their love.

Once they saw each other they started running until their bodies rejoined, he grabbed her waist and carried her spinning her in the air, his crown, which after y/n had straighten out was never crooked again, fell to the side of his head slightly, the dress she was wearing flew through the air.

“I need to talk to you, but please, allow me to kiss you first” Jay said, his voice was as tender as always.

“The feeling’s mutual” Y/n answered, allowing him to engulf her in the kiss, their lips collapsed in each others, their tongues ravished the others mouth, Y/n had never been kissed, yet it was far from what she though a kiss could feel like, it was pure love turned into the most carnal desire, they were drunk in each other’s presence and whatever else just ceased to exist, her hands stood to her sides, unsure of where to move of what to do, he took them with care, guiding her hands to wrap around his neck, where they eventually found their way towards his hair, while Jay’s hands maintained firm one in her waist and the other one on her neck, their lips separated for the smallest of seconds allowing them to regain their breath, y/n’s cheeks were flushed yet she couldn’t stop herself from wanting more.

“I think it would be good for us to talk before doing that again” Jay said, his lips plump and his messy hair adorned with the crooked crown on top of it.

“Of course, we should take this somewhere else,” Y/n answered.

Both of them went to Jay's chambers, the night already falling, yet all they could think about was each other's presence.

She sat at the end of the bed, Jay decided to stay on feet in front of her, scared of the words that were about to leave his mouth.

“I think I'm in love with you”, Jay started, “I hope that you feel the same way and I would like for you to become queen of the underworld, if you'd like of course…” Jay rambled

“You're asking me to marry you?” She asked,

“I am, if you wish to, there’s no need for you to accept, I won't get mad neither will my demeanor change if you say no…” He started talking, his words emancipated sounding almost like gibberish, and his fingers fuming with the slightest of fires, but suddenly all the havoc in his mind and the gibberish that fell from his lips was interrupted by a small kiss.

Y/n kissed him quickly, circling his hands around his back pulling him close, then he kissed her again cheekily,

“Jay, I do want to marry you”

He smiled and kissed her again and again, until his crown was on the floor and his lips explored her whole body, until the world and underworld had been nearly forgotten.

The days passed and the day of the wedding arrived, Y/n woke up to a beautiful wedding gown on the bed, it was beautifully crafted in gray hues, she couldn’t understand how such a beautiful piece could be given to her, however Jay thought that no wedding gown could be pretty enough for her, to his eyes it didn’t matter how beautiful the dress were, y/n would overshadow it with her beauty, but the dress that lied on the bed was a close match.

Finally with her dress on, she went to encounter his betrothed in the throne room, where they would finally be wed. Jay was dressed in a full black wedding attire, the crown in his head and the black locks falling into place adorning the frame of his face, he looked as devilishly handsome as always.

Once they were in front of each other, although because of the small height difference y/n had to look up to meet his gaze, he took a crown as hauntingly beautiful as the one he wore, and with care he positioned it over her head.

“You look beautiful, my queen” He couldn’t resist the urge and kissed her for the smallest of seconds, "I love you with all of my being”, he whispered again in the middle of their kiss.

“And so do I, why else would I decide to stay here if it weren't for you?” Y/n kissed him again, he smiled in the middle of the kiss and separated once again.

“I brought you something”, he said, taking from his robes a pomegranate, “The seeds of this fruit are what could make you stay here in the underworld, you wouldn’t be cold anymore in the nights, and you could wander freely…”

He took a dagger and cut open the fruit, taking the seeds out and in the process staining his fingers and his attire, it didn’t matter, he wanted to do it for her, he handled her the seeds which she immediately ate, she was about to eat the seventh seed when a loud rumble stormed their dream wedding day.

It was Demeter, y/n's mother, who stormed into the palace, the sight before her sending her into a frenzy, what was her daughter even thinking?

Jay took y/n behind his back, if there was someone to blame it should’ve been him.

“Move Jay… I'm here to take my daughter home…” Demeter noticed his stained fingers and the fallen seeds on the floor, she looked up and saw her daughter with her lips stained from the smallest of drops of the pomegranate “No, y/n… he made you eat them? what a monster, you damned…”

“Mother, stop, please”, Y/n talked, Demeter couldn’t finish her sentence, her daughter was now in front of her, “I ate the seeds on my own, I want to stay here, I love Jay, and I want to stay here… with him”

“You don’t know what you are talking about, you need spring, and I need you, please y/n, come back home” Her mother's cry made her reconsider everything again, should she go? but she couldn’t leave Jay, she… was she wrong for loving him? Jay's hand took y/n's pulling her close and taking her out of her thoughts, “Darling, I can make you a deal, so you can stay in the mortal world and in here… you only ate six seeds, that means your body can stay here for six months, the other six months you can spend them with your mother on the earth, and I will wait for you here”

Y/n agreed and although at first she disliked the idea, Demeter ended up agreeing as well, leaving with her daughter so the spring could come again.

Jay waited patiently for the months to come where he could meet his queen again, finally the day had come, and there was y/n entering the palace, their bodies reunited in a hug full of longing

“Welcome back my queen” He would whisper before kissing her, “You have no idea how much I've missed you”, he kissed her again, the first of many kisses and hugs that they would share for the months she could stay in the underworld, savoring each others presence because in that moment there was no underworld or mortal world, it was only Jay and y/n, and that was the only world they cared of.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

a/n: I'm sorry for the wait, got kind of sick, but here's the chapter hope that you enjoy it ♡

acc: thank you for all the love and reposts lyy 🤍

tags: @solfolgi

[peterparkersnose]

I Need You More Than I Wanted To

pairing: Din Djarin x reader

word count: 3k

warnings: needy din, lowkey out of character but idc, pining possibly one sided, lots of begging, angst, description of y/n’s body, masturbation reference if you squint HARD, sappy speeches at the end, arguing, lots of angst (bc angst is my favorite)

a/n i’ve had this idea in my drafts for MONTHS so i’m so happy i’ve gotten around to writing it.

summary Y/N overhears a damaging conversation between Din and Greef Karga

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 11 mins 8 seconds

Din’s heart ached like no other watching you these past few days. The silent suffering, the longing, and the pain he has been observing was hard to watch; the hardest part was that he was the reason for this.

He knew you like the back of his hand. For years the two of you have been traveling the galaxy, searching for as many credits as possible and managing to have a fun time while doing it. Living life with you is how Din preferred it. It was carefree. The two of you made a great team and wanted to live lavishly one day. That was the dream, at least. The two of you saved credits like crazy, but it never seemed to be enough to purchase a palace. Once the kid came along everything changed. The sudden dream of living large seemed to fade over the horizon. Something clicked. The two of you were now parents.

When Greef mentioned to him about you when the two of you visited the new Nevarro, Din was sure he was just messing with him.

“Are you two finally together?”

The question confused Din.

“You know, the way she looks at you. That’s love.”

Din was shocked. Had he really been that clueless?

“That’s impossible,” Din responded. Greef laughed. “You're telling me that if she made the first move, you wouldn’t reciprocate it?”

A strict “No” came from Din. “Never.”

The child cooed and the two men turned around. There you stood in the doorway, waiting for them to finish their conversation. The exact conversation you had just overheard.

Your mouth slightly dropped. The expression on your face was shocked. You quickly blinked and closed your mouth, trying to mask your disappointment. But Din knew. Maybe it was enough to fool Greef Karga, but Din knew he had just hurt the person he cared for the most deeply.

“H-he wanted you,” you said silently, not expecting your voice to quiver. You set down Grogu on the red velvet couch. Din nodded. Your lip quivered as you stared at him through the visor in pure shock. With hurt in your eyes, you excused yourself to the shared quarters the two of you were given for the time of your stay.

“And that…” Greef began. Din scooped up Grogu in his arms. Grogu made a noise and grunted, seemingly wanting to now leave his father and attend to his heartbroken mother. He squirmed in Din’s arms until he let him down.

“That was the look of heartbreak.”

The next few days on Nevarro were filled with a cold distance. Neither you nor Din wanted to discuss the elephant in the room. Simple words were exchanged in the interest of the child, but that was about it.

It was your last night on Nevarro.

Din had been at the cantina with Greef Karga and some of his associates, celebrating the newly liberated Nevarro. You had gone to bed early, staying with Grogu.

You were surprised Din even agreed to go out, he hated outings such as drinking with friends. If things weren’t so heated at the moment, he would have much rather preferred a night staying in with you and watching some stupid show on your datapad and eating whatever your heart desired.

The sun had been set for hours. You were lounging in your satin red sleep robe that was complimentary given to you upon your arrival. The beautiful braid you had your hair up in all day was now gone, your hair was curled due to the all-day friction. The ladies assigned to your care were more than delightful. With the satin robes and braids you could never master, it was like you never wanted to leave. You lay on the king-sized bed you had been giving to Din the last few nights. The couch was beginning to hurt your back, and he was nowhere to be found. 

Grogu, still not asleep, was patting the lavish sheets with his hands. You smiled, watching the curious creature discover the new textures. Your eyes wandered to the marvelous carvings coated in gold paint that covered the pillars in your room. Eyes beginning to droop, you were suddenly awoken by a cold hand on your exposed thigh. 

“Buir!” he squealed. Recognizing the Mando’a right away, your thinned-lip smile turned into a frown. “I know,” you sighed, extending your hand towards the child and brushing the top of his head. “He’ll be back soon.”

Grogu crawled up your legs and onto your torso. Grogu began grabbing some of the strands of hair that lay on your chest, you slowly separated his hands from the grasp. “Good job on speaking, buddy.” you smiled, now sitting against the bedframe. Grogu sat in your lap, reaching for your hair once again. A genuine smile arose on your face as you watched your son rest in your lap. The thought of Din left your mind, but only temporarily. He seemed to haunt your dreams as he haunted your days. You fell asleep with Grogu in your lap. 

Din’s clanky armor trudged up the many stairs to the guest bedroom. It was almost like a full workout, he was ready to get into the shower and then get into bed. 

Din absolutely hated his time out; barely being able to sip his drink and listening to the arguing of men about topics he didn't even care about was not his idea of a good night. He didn't want to admit it though—he yearned to spend the night with you. You consumed his every thought, and with every sip of his strong alcohol, he just kept feeling worse and worse. The image of your face re played in his head all week. With the disappointment and hurt he never wanted to inflict on you, the guilt was building up in his stomach like no other. 

Slowly, his ungloved hand waved against the sensor. The door whirred open. Din hoped he didn’t wake you, it was already almost morning, even though the sunrise was hours away. He could hear the morning bugs begin to chirp on his way home. As his eyes adjusted to the lighting, he set his helmet down on the chair in the corner. He turned around to find you- his heart seemed to skip a beat. 

Laying in the silk robe you were gifted, your legs were parted awkwardly as you slept. You lay on your stomach with your face delved in a pillow. The slow movement of your back going up and down gave Din the confidence that you were okay. One arm lay at your side, the other cradled Grogu against your waist. His breath finally caught up with him once he realized he had been staring for too long. 

The only thing he could seem to think about in his shower was his best friend. The woman who had always been there for him. She was merely a partner until Greef suggested otherwise. The thought of even diving into anything romantic with you never crossed Din’s mind until then. His hand held his seemingly limp body on the wall, holding him upwards as the water washed over him. The thought of you sprawled out on the bed, on his bed was just… 

The thought went straight to his head, making him feel emotions for you he never had before. Your body, the way you lay, how you were protecting his son even in slumber. Everything about you seemed so appealing in a way Din had never felt for another woman. 

“You know, the way she looks at you. That’s love.”

Greef’s voice haunted Din’s mind as he slept. He woke up gasping for air on the couch. You turned to look at him but only for a moment. You made eye contact. It was rare you saw him without his helmet, and even rarer to make complete eye contact. Din wasn’t one for eye contact. Looking down, you continued to fold Grogu’s extra robes that were freshly cleaned and delivered to your room earlier this morning. You were packing to leave. 

Din sat upright, his hand holding his forehead. His head was pounding. Looking up, he noticed a glass of water and a few pills sitting on the table in front of him. Presumably set up for him, by you. His heart sank. Even in pain, you somehow still cared for him. He turned to look at you again. You were still getting Grogu ready to leave. He was jumping on the bed, making gargling noises as you tried to dress him. Din took the pills and finished the water and set the glass down with a clank, so you knew he had seen your gesture. 

“What time are we leaving?” he asked, standing up to finish his packing. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror; his hair was disheveled and he was in need of a shave. He ran a hand over the patchy stubble on his cheeks. To his surprise, his bag was sitting packed on the same chair where he rested his helmet last night. His helmet was sitting on top of the bag. 

You sighed. “Din,” you croaked, saying his name for the first time in days. He looked over at you. The same pain was there, but the look of exhaustion followed it. “I-I’m not going.” 

His brows raised. A slight panic set in. “What do you mean, your not going?” he asked in a more hostile tone than needed. You drew in a sharp breath and looked back at the same gold detailing you were looking at the night before. “Grogu is packed,” you simply said, scooping the child up in your arms. He squealed at your embrace, cuddling up in your arms. It was the last time you were going to be with Grogu, at least for a while. “Greef invited us to breakfast,” you said, swiftly walking past Din to the door. Your attempt to leave was unsuccessful.

Din grabbed your arm and pulled you back. Grogu let out a whine, as he was shuffled in the hassle. No words had to be said, the stares you were giving each other were enough. Din tilted his head slightly. The feeling of you was slipping through his fingers. Memories of you two fighting bounties, saving credits for a future, and then raising Grogu together hurt him more than ever. You were already too far gone. He had done damage that seemed irreversible.

A single tear rolled down your face. 

It was never meant to go this far. 

“Let me go,” you begged. Din didn’t realize his grasp on you was getting tighter as the seconds went by. “I don’t want to,” he whispered, closer to a mumble.

With reluctance, he let go of your arm. 

“What about the villa?” he called after you as you were about to exit the room. You stopped cold in your tracts. “Don’t bring up the villa-” you scolded him, turning around. The once-thought dream of living lavishly with Din, as a retired pair on a fancy planet scorned your broken heart. “You're really just going to leave? After everything?” he asked.

“You were my everything.” you bitterly cried out. Grogu squirmed in your arms. You sat him down on the bed.

Those words punched through Din like a thousand knives. “I didn’t mean-”

“Then what did you mean?” you ask, approaching Din. “I heard your conversation loud and clear, Din. I understand your intentions.”

“Y/N I had no clue,” he tried to defend himself. “Liar!” you screamed. Din was taken aback by your anger and took a few steps back. “I have spent the last many years of my life following you around blindly. We lived together, slept in the same bed, shared meals, shared laughs, and now share a child! I held you during cold nights! I saw your face, we’ve seen each other nude more times than I can count, you cared for me when I got hurt on that one mission to Tatooine. You cared for me while my leg was broken and I was helpless. We were everything without a title, Din! There is no way you never saw or felt anything. I simply don’t believe it. I can’t believe I thought I could see the true heart of a cold, selfish Mandalorian.”

Din was almost at a loss for words. He stood for a moment, finding words to say as he watched you realize every single word you had just spewed out at him. Your hand began to shake as you sat down, covering your mouth and staring at the carpet with wide eyes.

“Do you think I chose this? This is how I was raised, Y/N!” he argues. Your gaze moved from the carpet and back to Din. “I cannot take a spouse unless they are a Mandalorian, you know this,” Din begged, grasping for straws. He wanted you more badly than anything else in the world, but the creed that was so deeply indoctrinated in him was fighting the feelings.

“Blinded by your creed.” you spat out. Din seethed. The creed he was in the process of abandoning anyways. 

“Why do you think I’m leaving it?” he blurted out. He didn’t want to admit it, but he said it out loud. Never had he ever admitted before to himself, let alone another person that he was done with his origins. The religion he was raised in, the culture that had brought him in and saved his life was now being thrown out… but for what? The convincing Bo-Katan did and saving him from this cult-like creed saved his life, truly deep down. Even if the efforts were small, they awoke something in Din. But was he really ready to shun his culture completely? Din never really came to terms with it, I guess, until now. 

“You have hurt me deeply, Din Djarin,” you said with your lip quivering, stating your final words. With that, you took Grogu and went to breakfast. You knew using his full, true name always hit him in a spot where it hurt most.

As you were about to walk down the spiral staircase at the end of the hallway, you heard your name being called clearly from the other side of the hall. You turned around, seeing Din jogging down the hall to you.

“Din! Your helmet,” you cried out. He had left the room without it. As he only trusted you and Grogu to see his natural face, anyone who he didn’t trust could turn him into the leaders of his clan. It touched him that you seemed to care for him on some level to still care about his helmet insecurities.

Then again, the reigns the creed held on him were loosening day by day.

“Wait,” he said, huffing as he approached you. “Please.”

“I want to go eat breakfast,” you said sternly.

Din’s arms loosely fell over your figure, his hands slowly touching your arms as they cradled Grogu.

“Don’t go,” he begged.

You looked up into his glossy eyes. Often you would forget how much taller he was than you. Sighing, you looked away.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t.”

Din’s knees seemed to collapse under him. He gave in to the buckling of his kneecaps and grabbed both of your hands, begging on his knees for you.

“To live all these years blindly, to not see what was truly in front of me will haunt me for the rest of my days. I am lost without you. Like a galaxy without stars, I am incomplete. I hope you can forgive me for my foolish words, I did not know what I was saying. You are everything to me. The mother of my child, my partner in crime, my light in the dark, my moon to guide me at night, my motivation, my companion, my love. Please forgive me. I need you to stay. You are all I have, you are all I need. A life without you is not worth living.”

To end his plea, he kissed your hands and wept.

Your right hand moved from his grasp to cup his cheek. It was wet with tears. “Don’t cry,” you whispered, wiping a tear away. “Din please,” you said, tearing up as you watched him sit and beg for you.

As his were moments before, your knees seemed to fail you and you joined him on the ground. Your hands grasped his hair as you engulfed the sobbing man in a hug. The soothing sounds of you shushing him like a baby filled the empty hallway.

“I won’t leave, I promise,” you whispered. This seemed to only make him cry harder. The realization Din had of how lucky he was and how close he was to losing you terrified him.

You would have never thought that you would be holding a sobbing Mandalorian. This was living proof of how much he loved and adored you. “H-how could you ever forgive me?” he asked, looking up into your gaze.

“I already have, my love.”

And with that, the two of you delved into your first kiss. It was wet and filled with passion, but also had a theme of hesitation from the two of you.

In all honesty, it was Din’s first kiss ever.

He moved his lips against yours, following your lead. The passion that moved between the two of you was something you had never felt with anyone else before. His hands wandered to your waist as he feverishly begged for more, but knew the limits of the setting the two of you were in.

Moments before the inevitable breakaway, your kiss was interrupted with a cool paw on your leg and a “Patu”

You rocked back on your legs to see the tiny green baby looking angrily at the two of you. A small laugh came from you and Din as he picked Grogu up and fixed his robes.

“Go get fixed up,” you said sweetly, kissing Din on the cheek. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“One question?” he asked, just as you were standing up to leave.

“What time are we leaving?”

“12.” you smiled, ruffling his already messy hair.

-

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[thestorycomesalive]

And I Would Do it Again

George Weasley x Reader

Summary: When you stick up for George in front of your whole Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Professor Umbridge has a certain consequence in mind for you.

Angst and Fluff, Hurt/Comfort.

TW: Mentions of Blood

****

“Eh hem, Mr. Weasley,” hummed a trilling voice from behind the tall red head next to you.

“Professor?” George raised an eyebrow to the pink clad woman behind him, wondering what in the world the small, angry lady could possibly want. Afterall, he hadn’t done anything wrong. And he knew better than to test her at this point. Or at least he knew his limits. Ron had told him of the tragic events that took place in Harry’s detention. Ever since then, he and his twin brother had gotten quieter and cleverer about pulling their tricks around school. Of course, they hadn’t stopped altogether. George wouldn’t be George without his pranks. But George knew he couldn’t get detention. Not out of a kindness for himself, but rather for your sake. He knew you’d worry too much.

But this time, he hadn’t done anything to provoke Professor Umbridge. He racked his brain for a moment, but he couldn’t think of one thing that would call her attention to him.

“You have received a generous amount of our class time today to complete your writing assignment, and while even Ms. L/N next to you has come up with a few paragraphs, you seem to have nearly nothing on your page. Care to explain what you’ve been up to all of this time?” The woman teetered to the front of your table, peering down at George.

He gave her a look of disbelief. “Well, it is not for lack of trying. I just have a hard time learning on paper. And you don’t let us use our wands,” he pointed out.

She giggled a single, ugly giggle. “Mr. Weasley… I can’t say I’m surprised. Afterall, I have come to expect less than from you. You shouldn’t need your wand to learn. Perhaps it is time for you to accept the fact that your own stupidity is to blame for your shortcomings. I really do my very best, but some students are just purely unteachable.” She hummed the last part to herself, shaking her head.

Your eyes shot up to her instantly. You had been watching her for some time, but in this instance, your eyes had been on the boy next to you, offering looks of kindness and sympathy without words. But now you were angry. Practically fuming. “Excuse me,” you muttered sharply, grabbing her attention with a whip of her head. “That is not, in any way, fair or warranted. George is one of the smartest people I know.” Your eyes were shooting darts at her as a piercing, condescending smile crept up to her ears.

“Ms. L/N. Talking out of turn will not be tolerated in my classroom. Especially not when it is used to talk back to your superiors,” she huffed.

You felt the smallest sensation of George’s pinky finger entwining with yours, as he tried to simmer down some of the anger, he knew was bubbling within you. You sighed and decided to leave the subject, having said your piece.

“You shall not question my knowledge and wisdom in any sense. If I say he is stupid, he is stupid, and if I say you are a flying Niffler, well then, you must be a flying Niffler. Do you understand, young lady?” she grinned, clearly having been satisfied with what she thought was winning the argument. You feel the heat and anger rising even higher than before at the mention of the sweet boy next to you. And then you finally realized what it is she was asking of you. She was asking you to agree with her cruel assumption about your George in front of the whole class. She cocks an eyebrow in the air with a wild smirk on her face. The rage pools over as you finally let it escape your mouth.

“No. I do not. I do not understand how you can call someone so bright and creative stupid, simply because you lack the skills and empathy to teach them what you would like them to know. Or because their knowledge simply extends beyond concepts that you can understand. You might not agree with me, Professor, but not everyone is like you. Not everyone wants to sit in a dark room and just pretend to learn for the rest of their lives. You want to give me detention, Professor? Fine. But I will not stand by while you abuse really great wizards, let alone, the ones that I love.” You cock your eyebrows back at her, knowing she has you right where she wants you. You don’t have a care in the world as the steam almost rises from your ears. It is now you notice that George’s hand had moved from your pinky to your wrist, gently trying to stop you from making the decision you had just made, his eyes pleading with yours with a gentle sadness and slight shock. However, for the briefest moment, you thought you could make out the tiniest glimpse of pride pass his eyes at the same time.

“Detention, Ms. L/N. I will not have anyone tell me how to teach in my classroom or question my abilities and judgement as a witch. Let alone someone so new to magic, as yourself.” She smiled smugly as she returned to the front of the classroom continuing her lesson immediately, not giving George or you a chance to respond to her. It was this act that left George hunting her down with a glare that could kill for the rest of the class, hand still in yours.

****

George spent every moment away from you that day, skipping his classes, trying in every way to get himself detention with Umbridge as well. However, every attempt ended with a quiet humph and scolding from her filled with cruel and nasty words. It was clear that even though she dreadfully wanted to, she was not going to give in and give George the detention he so desperately desired. She knew his punishment would be far more effective if she let you suffer and put him in a position where he would not be able to do anything about it whatsoever. It was the only time that he had the freedom to do nearly anything he wanted at Hogwarts, to break almost any rule he wanted to break, and get away with it. The painful irony is, he hated every second of it.

*****

Your detention arrived quickly that night when the corridors of the castles quieted. You had spent all day since your class with Umbridge quiet by George’s side. On the moments that you would be separated, you would go find a place in the Gryffindor Common Room to sit and wait for him to return from his classes or what you thought must be prank trials with Fred. But you weren’t worried about your detention like most people probably assumed you had been. Hell, you probably should’ve been. No. You were furious. Furious at Umbridge for targeting George, furious at her for backing you into a corner until you couldn’t take it anymore, furious at her for hurting Harry, furious at her for getting away with all of the terrible things she has done… furious.

When darkness befell the Common Room, only George, Fred, Lee, and you remained. You hadn’t told Harry or anyone else about your detention. You didn’t want him to worry. However, Fred and Lee, of course, had known of your soon-to-be punishment, considering they had been in the class when you received it. When you left the classroom, George pulled you into his side protectively and Lee had given you proud pat on the shoulder. With an exaggerated wink, Fred had run up and exclaimed, “Blimey, that was amazing, L/N! Nice craftsmanship, excellent execution.” Fred had tried to wipe some of the anger from your face throughout the day with a few, “don’t mess with that one, she’s fiery” and “Oi, Lee, careful. Catch yourself even looking at ol’ Georgie too long, and you might have to answer to that one,” with a point in your direction. These usually earned a genuine, soft smile from you as you chuckled to yourself. Freddie was the one person in the world who could make any person laugh no matter the circumstances. George would blush, and if he saw you laughing, he would also laugh to himself at the mention of the last joke from Fred. Part of you wondered if he may have enjoyed feeling your protectiveness over him. And you didn’t mind. You liked that he liked it. Even now.

But as the four of you sat late in the quiet Common Room, you felt the jokes wash away as George twiddled with his fingers, your head on his chest. You could tell he was feeling worried and helpless as you waited for your time to leave for detention. When that time came, you gave them a gentle smile and said, “Alright, I’m off. I’ll see you guys in the morning. Don’t go worrying about me too much.” You gave Fred and Lee a wink and kissed the top of George’s head.

As if on instinct, George grabbed your hand, pleading with his face, as if he were trying to keep you from going. But he knew that if you did not show up tonight, it would only earn you an even bigger punishment with the nasty, pink-shoed woman later. You took his hand and held it to your cheek as you gave him a little smile and whispered, “I love you. Goodnight.” And off you went, George watching your back as you left.

*****

As you creaked through the half open door of Umbridge’s office, you heard her squeal in delight. She toned out, “Do come in, Ms. L/N.”

You walked in without a word, eyes piercing through the small woman as she continued. “I do hope tonight will serve you nicely. You will be writing lines for me, dear.” You nodded your head, eyes still shooting at the Professor. This is what you had expected to hear from her. “Take a seat. There is a quill and parchment already for you at the desk there.”

 You took a seat at the desk she pointed to as she tutted. “Hmm… What lesson is to be learned tonight, do you think?” You, of course, didn’t answer. “There are many lessons I believe you could benefit from learning, Ms. L/N, but I have chosen to be generous to you, for reasons unbeknownst to me. I believe the lines, ‘I will learn my place and be respectful to my superiors’, will do just fine.”

 Your mouth dropped. You were expecting to write lines, and you knew the pain that would come with that, but you had not expected the number of words she would give you to write to be so extensive. You only prayed that the number of lines she would have you complete would be less, to even out your sentence to compare to the stories you had heard from others, including Harry. You dared to ask. “How many- “

“One hundred,” she interrupted without hesitation.

You nodded, eyes still a bit wide from shock. You assumed that you had really struck a nerve with your defiance towards Umbridge. Afterall, why else would your sentence be nearly double that of any other student you have heard from so far? You figured that you also were being used as punishment towards those you loved as well. Those who have also unmeaningly struck a nerve of Umbridge’s too: Harry and George. But you wouldn’t be used as bait. No, you quite refused to be used as such.

As you dared to hover the dry quill over the paper, you prepared yourself for the pain that would inevitably begin once you touched them down to meet. And when it did, the pain was one hundred times more unbearable than you had even begun to imagine, just like the number of lines you were to complete.

By the time you had arrived halfway through your assignment, blood was dripping down your fingertips, drenching your parchment along with the tears crawling down your face. Finally, soft whimpers that you had tried to hold back for so long, began to escape.

 The clock ticking echoed in your ears, taunting your brain with the idea of freedom. After what felt like an eternity, you had finished the lines, and you were a both dry and wet bloodied mess. You sat up from your seat and handed the now quiet professor your scarlet stained parchment full of scratches reading, “I will learn my place and be respectful to my superiors”, front and back.

“May I leave now?” you uttered.

She simply nodded with a conniving grin plastered on her face as she watched you walk out the door.

*****

You held your breath until you arrived back past the portrait into the Gryffindor Common Room, not wanting that evil woman to hear you cry. When you stepped into the room, you pressed your back to the cold wall next to you and grabbed your wrist, blood flow never-ending, and finally let the tears and sobs escape you, as your back fell down the wall. You were so blinded by the pain that you didn’t even notice there was someone in the room with you. They ran up from the couch, over to your place by the wall, and sat right next to you, pulling you into their lap. From the moment you discovered the figure, your brain and your heart knew it would be your George. Part of you had a feeling he wouldn’t sleep until you were back, and you didn’t want him to see you like this. You fought your brain which told you that you were allowing yourself to be the live weapon that Umbridge wanted you to be. You just hadn’t expected the pain to be so much. You hadn’t expected that you would collapse right in front of George. You so desperately wanted to be strong. To stay strong for him. For yourself. But, oh merlin, did it hurt.

His big arms wrapped around your shoulders and brought his hand to pull your bloodied one into his line of sight. His breathing hitched and he felt his blood run to his cheeks and his ears as his other hand clenched into a fist. He was seeing red at the extra bloodied hand you fostered, much worse than he had ever seen, even on Harry. But the rage he felt was nothing compared to the crunch of his heart splitting in two as your cries of pain reached his ears. He didn’t know what to do, he felt so helpless, just as he had all day, but a million times worse.

“Darling, I know. I’m so sorry. I’m- I’m so sorry. Please. Please, I have to wrap this. You have to let me wrap this,” he struggled, pleading with you.

Your head heard his words, and it told you to move, to stop crying, to say something. But your skin was on fire, and the roar of the flames outspoke the language of your brain trying to reason with your body. You were able to lean your head into his shoulder, as you tried to compose yourself as best as you could, but the best you could do was quiet your sobs ever so slightly, as any and all words fell silent in the back of your throat. Your tears soaked through his shirt and coated his upper arm that still held you. He began to take his arms and pull himself up, untangling himself from you. He moved to sit on his knees in front of you, eyes searching for yours as he tilted your chin up to look at him.

“My love. Please. I need to wrap your hand. Can I bring you to the couch?” he asked, peering through your eyes for an answer.

You slightly nodded your head, barely noticeable. But George, he saw it. He always saw it. He could read you better than anyone in the world. The moment he saw your head move, he scooped his arm under your bent legs and placed his other one across your back and under your arms. You turned your head into his shoulder as he gently move to place you on the couch, your back pressed to the arm of the chair. You pulled your knees up on the couch, moving your heels to touch your bottom. Splayed out across the table in front of you were bandages and a wrap for your hand. As the tears began finding themselves more and more scarce at the hope of relief, the smaller of the words at the back of your throat began to find their way out.

“Georgie?” you asked, coming out in a high-pitched whimper.

His deep, worrying eyes looked to you, hands finding your cheeks. He followed your eyes to the table and the equipment laying on it. An embarrassed blush came to his cheeks as his brows furrowed. Supplies. It was pathetic, he thought. He should’ve been the one being punished. But instead, it was you and there was absolutely nothing he could do except for find some simple supplies. Unable to even think about sleeping, he had snuck his way over to Madame Pomfrey in the medical wing as soon as you had exited the Common Room. He asked her for some supplies and after more than a lot of convincing that everything was okay and that he wasn’t up to anything that would get her in trouble, she suspiciously obliged. He knew you would refuse to see her anyways, not wanting to take up her time. And deep down, he too knew that there was not much she would be able to do for you, no matter how much he begged. Afterall, this was a punishment enacted by Umbridge herself, and no matter how much she wanted to, Pomfrey could not disregard the rules set in place by the self-proclaimed headmaster and inquisitor.

He turns back to you quickly trying to cover the look of shame and guilt on his face.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” his voice breaks, tears of his own forming.

You could see him fighting with his own mind over something that you were sure would split your heart right down the middle.

“George?” you squeaked out once more.

“I’m so sorry…It’s my fault. I was behind in class. It should’ve been me. Not you. I should’ve protected you, I-,” he finally lets it all come rushing out.

You cut him off by placing your good hand on his cheek, giving him a difficult and very broken smile. Your voice comes out raspy from the sobs you had forced down but determined now, as soon as you hear the pain in George's own voice. “No. This decision was mine, George. All mine…” you give the faintest of laughs, almost in disbelief. “And yet, I can’t find the mind to regret it… I would do it again… and again.”

He leaned into your touch, eyes wincing as you revealed to him that you would take this punishment and this pain for him once again.

“Look at me?” you whispered.

He brought his eyes up to meet yours. Your voice was a little bit clearer now, although wavering ever so slightly.

“My decision. Please do not take that away from me, Georgie. It was my decision to make, and I am so glad that I did. You are so smart. You know that, right?” You looked up at him from under your eyelashes through the now silent and mild tears that streamed down your face.

He shook his head. He couldn’t bring himself to even begin to describe himself as smart. If that were true, he thought, he would’ve found a way to be there with you. If that were true, you wouldn’t have been there at all. He couldn’t understand, how through all of the terror and pain, you were the one to comfort him. He simply began to unwrap the bandages from their place on the table and started to wrap them tightly around your hand to stop the blood from dripping any longer, a lot of it starting to dry already. When he was finished, you took your good hand and placed it on his cheek once again. You pulled him into a sweet, soft, salty kiss.

“Smart. Clever. Kind. Brave. Gentle,” you muttered these words in his ear as you rested your head on his shoulder, and he once again pulled you into his lap, this time, towards him.

“The strongest girl I know, so beautiful, so loving…,” he muttered back, caressing your hair, trailing off into magical, sweet nothings that mean quite everything to both of you.

“I love you, Georgie,” you whisper.

“I love you, darling,” he says.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” you ask the beautiful, ginger boy that you love so dearly.

“I will always stay with you, my love,” he says as he begins to lift your body from the couch to carry to your dorm. There the two of you find comfort in each other’s embrace, finally drifting off into a deep sleep.

[crackedpumpkin]

𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝟎𝟔 |

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“Tell me again why I need to come down?” You ask, exaggerating a loud sigh of annoyance. 

You can practically hear the way Cole rolls his eyes over the phone. “Zane asked me to call you down since he’s busy. Wouldn’t want to leave him hanging, would you?” 

The call had come before class started, just as you entered and placed your bag down in the empty seat beside you. To your surprise, Cole’s name appears on the phone screen. It’d been a couple days since you had dinner together after losing a bet, so receiving a call from him is lowkey a(n) (unwelcome) surprise. 

Upon picking up, a husky voice greets you with the barest of formalities before practically ordering you to come to the monastery after your lectures. As much as you hate to admit it, you blushed a little at his voice before clearing your throat and firing back a mean remark because c’mon, who said he could use animosity against the sun as an excuse to be rude to you?

“Unfortunately for you guys, I’m not so free as to travel all the way to the other side of Ninjago City on a whim.” Someone moves in the corner of your eyes, turning to see the girl who returned your wallet to you the other day wave sheepishly. 

You move away the bag, allowing her to sit down in the now-empty space. “Hey,” You greet her quietly, pulling the phone away from your ear and covering the mic while ignoring whatever Cole’s saying. 

“Hi,” She whispers back shyly, “It’s me, Holly.” She adds, noticing the quiet struggle you’re having trying to remember her name. Exhaling in relief, you smile sheepishly at her. “Don’t worry about it,” she says softly, turning to take out her materials and prepare for class. 

“You there? Hello?” 

Whoops. He’s annoyed now. 

“Yeah, I’m still here. So at a cafe then? I’ll text you the location. Okay class is starting soon see you bye!” 

“WHAT THE FU-”

You end the call in a hurry, pressing the red button just as Cole’s loud cry of protest starts. 

Placing it on the table, you pull out a notebook from your bag and some stationary before finally turning back to Holly who’d been minding her own business. “Sorry about that.” She tilts her head with a chuckle. 

“It’s fine,” She dismisses it easily. “I’ve heard rumours about this professor though, he always gives loads of group projects. My cousin told me writing a blog is a compulsory assignment.”

Dismay sets in at the thought of having to come up with writing an entire blog by yourself, slumping back in your seat with a loud groan. “Maybe it’s not too late to drop out of the course.” Your muttered words draw an unexpected laugh, taking unbridled joy at seeing Holly dissolve into a fit of giggles. 

“Mood. But hopefully, it won’t be that bad. Maybe we’ll even get partnered up!” The thought of doing the project with someone you at least know cheers you up somewhat, sitting up in your seat with mildly renewed energy. 

“I’ll get this straight. I have an attendance requirement of 75% - blame the university, not me. As long as you let me finish my lesson, I don’t really care what you do in class as long as it isn’t disruptive. Lastly, there’re extra credit assignments you can take in the course material.”

The professor enters with prominent dark circles around her eyes, scanning the people in her class before plopping down at her desk with a steaming cup of black coffee in hand and a laptop in the other.

Just as she finishes speaking, you notice a couple of students open their laptops and put on muted videos of Subway Surfers with their eyes still on the professor. She doesn’t seem to care at all like she’s mentioned earlier, taking a big swig of her coffee before she continues.

“I’m not contactable outside working hours because I have a life, but I’ll get back to you when I can. Additionally,” She pauses, looking around the room with a scrutinising eye. You stare at her blankly, waiting for her to continue. The tip of your pen barely brushes against the thin paper of your notebook, mildly taken aback by how aloof she is.

“Some of your relatives who’ve attended my lessons might’ve told you about my assignments. I’d like to make it clear that I’m changing it up this year. The first project you’ll be doing is starting a business. As long as you demonstrate that you understand the basis and foundation of all the stuff I’m teaching, the business can be about anything.”

The projector flashes for a moment, showing the bright screen of her laptop where she’d already pre-assigned partners beforehand. Your name appears next to Holly’s. Both of you turn to each other with excited grins. 

“Now, who’ll volunteer to be the TA?” 

The utter silence that falls over everyone should’ve been the first warning sign. It’s only after Holly pokes your arm with a pencil that you realise everyone’s looking at you. The professor follows their gazes, patiently waiting for you to respond. 

Just perfect.

Holly’s guilty smile suggests that she wouldn’t have volunteered on your behalf even if you are beginning to be friends. So, you lift your hand begrudgingly with a resigned sigh. “I volunteer as tribute.” 

The professor nods in approval, blinking almost owlishly as a realisation of sorts dawns on her. “Have I told you guys my name yet?”

Maybe it’s not too late to drop out after all.

— — — — — 

Musketeer [ 02:07 PM ]: has sent a location

Musketeer [ 02:07 PM ]: see u at 3

Cake Enthusiast [ 02:07 PM ]: are you srsly expecting us to rush down rn

Musketeer [ 02:08 PM ]: not rn but also dont u have dragons???

Cake Enthusiast [ 02:08 PM ]: yes and

Musketeer [ 02:10 PM ]: wowur so funny hahahhahahahah

Musketeer [ 02:10 PM ]: /sarcastic

Cake Enthusiast [ 02:11 PM ]: remind me why we have to be soulmates again

Musketeer [ 02:11 PM ]: we cld always not be

Cake Enthusiast [ 02:11 PM ]: thats fair

Musketeer [ 02:11 PM ]: anyw see u at 3

It’s been at least a month or so since you both found out you were soulmates, but neither of you had properly acknowledged what to do. After all, it’s awkward any time one of you brings it up even slightly as if it’s a tacit agreement to swerve around the topic. 

Through the banter and snarky remarks, there’s always an underlying question of ‘What are we?’ that haunts your conversations. Even now, you’re running away from it through text. Through text, of all things. Sure, you’re a coward, but you didn’t remember it being this bad.

Are you friends? Acquaintances? Enemies? 

It’s difficult to put a label on it, especially since he hasn’t revealed anything about his feelings towards the whole soulmate thing either. You’ve already made it pretty clear how you feel about it, but it’s almost unnerving how he hasn’t tried to address it either.

The closest label you can slap on the weird relationship between you is probably frenemies? You’re not entirely sure why you’re trying to define what you are even now, but the uncertainty of everything is slowly getting to you. 

It’s ironic how you’d always criticise webtoons and romantic movies for never communicating, yet it’s the exact same thing you’re doing right now. Wow. You truly are pathetic. 

You lift your head at the sound of your name being called. A sudden coldness presses against your cheek, shocking you out of your thoughts as you flinch away from it. Holly greets you with a warm smile, handing you the bubble tea she’s just held against your face.

“You looked kinda out of it. You didn’t even hear me call you.” Aiming the sharp tip of the straw at the cover, you swiftly poke a hole through it and take a long, slow sip. 

“Sorry,” you say through chews, the rubbery texture of the brown sugar pearls giving you something to focus on. “I was thinking about our project.” You can’t have anyone find out about your situation, especially not the students in this school. 

She brightens up at the mention, taking out her phone. “Right! I was thinking about it too! Would you like to meet up another day to brainstorm and sort it out?” She turns the screen around to face you, your name prominently displayed in a new contact.

You enter your number quickly on the screen, pressing call. The phone in your hand vibrates, her own number appearing at the top. “Sorry we can’t do it today, I’ve got an appointment.” 

“That’s okay.” She seems to not mind, shrugging it off easily. “I’ve got something else on too. My mom needs me to stop by the grocery store to buy some stuff for tonight.” She stands up from the seat. “I’ll text you the details and ideas.”

“Sounds good.” You wave her off, watching her leave with a smile. Holly doesn’t seem so bad. She’s nice, and pretty friendly too. The best part is that she’s never once asked you about the ninja either, even after overhearing your phone call this morning.

You pull out your phone and save her number, adding a little smiley face next to her name. It’s been a hectic day, but knowing you’ve got a potential friend in Holly makes it a bit brighter. With a final glance at the door where she exited, you gather your things and head towards the café, feeling a bit more optimistic about your project.

The walk there is about ten minutes according to Google Maps, though navigating through the roads is tricky. Kids on bikes delivering newspapers scare you at almost every turn, barely managing to avoid getting run over if not for their bells acting as a warning signal. 

At least the weather isn’t so bad today, you muse with a smile, enjoying the breeze. If not for the sudden appointment to meet, you would’ve probably gone to the park to find any stray cats or dogs to play with. 

Does he like cats?

Maybe not. He seems like a dog person. But then again, he does have a vibe that would draw cats to him. You could put it to the test perhaps. Damn it. You should’ve set the park as the venue to meet. 

The visual image of you picking him up and shaking him vigorously to use him as a magnet to attract cats and dogs makes you snort in pure amusement, only for your laugh to die down when you turn the corner. 

A jeep is parked right outside a jewellery store, where glass shards litter the sidewalk. The sound of rambunctious laughter fills the air as masked figures shove bags filled with necklaces and bracelets lined with glittering gems into the jeep’s open back. 

Your heart skips a beat, eyes widening at the sight of the chaos. One of the robbers, a hulking figure with a crowbar, leans casually against the shattered glass door, smirking as his companions continue their work.

But it’s not the robbers or the wreckage that makes your blood run cold. Among the masked figures is one that stands out—a familiar lean figure cloaked in dark clothing, a distinctive mask hiding their features. You recognize the thief instantly, the same one who’d caused a fiasco at the museum not too long ago, making off with a priceless artefact right under the noses of everyone. The memory of that night flashes through your mind—the smug glint in their eyes, the familiar gadget on their hand that caused a sinkhole….

You pause. Now that you think about it, if it wasn’t for them, you wouldn’t have figured out Cole is your soulmate. So in retrospect, every moment of turmoil you’re facing with the acknowledgement of your fear and cowardice is their fault.

Now, here they are again, caught red-handed in yet another heist. The thief moves with an effortless grace, tossing a heavy bag into the jeep before turning back to the store. Even from this distance, you can sense the arrogance, the thrill they take in outsmarting everyone around them. Your hands clench into fists at your sides, a mix of anger and determination bubbling up.

What are the odds of running into them again? And why here, of all places? Your mind races, torn between the urge to call for help and the reckless impulse to intervene right then and there. 

As you edge closer, careful to avoid stepping on any glass shards and pressing your back to the wall, the thief’s head turns slightly, as if sensing your presence. You freeze, holding your breath, hoping to remain unnoticed.

The thief pauses, glancing around with narrowed eyes, but the robbers' loud banter covers any noise you might have made. Well, that is, until you get so caught up in the moment that you forget your phone isn’t on silent. 

“JUMP UP KICK BACK WHIP AROUND AND SPIN-”

“Motherfucker-” You mutter, scrambling in a panic to silence Cole’s call. Your chest practically collapses from the shaky exhale after, before holding your breath in a sudden wave of panic. 

A quiet crunch echoes through the street, the sound unnaturally loud in the stillness. Slowly, you look up, eyes widening at the sight of the thief standing right outside the store, the other robbers gathered around. 

For a moment, you lock eyes—or at least, you think you do, through the mask. An awkward silence hangs in the air, thick and heavy. Your tongue darts out, licking your suddenly dry lips as you desperately try to find a way to escape from the situation.

“So…A great day for robbery, am I right?” The stuttered laughter that tumbles past your lips twists your insides into a nervous knot. Lifting your hand, you gesture to the group. “Carry on then, as you were.”

Silence continues to plague the next few seconds, already severely regretting even opening your mouth at all as the robbers behind the thief glance at each other with uncertainty. The thief studies you closely, their piercing gaze stopping when they widen their eyes. A spark of recognition flickers in the air, and you swear you see the thief's lips twitch into a smirk beneath the mask. 

The audacity of this bitch-

Just as you decide to drop your stuff and book it, a familiar voice cuts through the air. "Hey! What’s going on here?" You whip around to see Cole rounding the corner, eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene. 

Relief washes over you, knowing you’re not alone, but it’s quickly replaced by a renewed sense of urgency. The robbers have spotted him too, and you can see the tension in their stance from recognising the ninja, readying to fight or flee.

Cole, they’re armed!” you shout, moving to his side. “I think,” you add quickly, correcting yourself. The masked thief’s gaze lingers on you for a second longer, before they turn to the jeep, making a split-second decision.

He shoots you a quick glance, his voice low and steady. “Stay back,” he warns, already moving in front of you. His stance shifts, ready for a fight, his eyes locked on the thieves. “This isn't your lucky day,” he calls out to them, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he sizes up the situation.

“Let’s go!” the thief orders, their voice sharp and commanding through the distortion filter. The robbers scramble, abandoning the last of the loot in their haste to jump into the jeep. Engines roar to life, tyres screeching as the vehicle speeds off into the night, leaving behind the shattered jewellery store and a trail of broken glass.

“Wait, that’s not how it’s supposed to go-” 

“Shut up and go after them!” He yelps, caught off guard by your forceful grab of his wrist, practically dragging him to chase after the car. “Summon your dragon or something! I don’t know,” you say desperately through rapid pants, the jeep getting further away with each passing second. 

“I know what to do!” He retorts with a scoff, making the swift decision to tug you toward him, scooping you up in his arms before doing a front flip. His dragon materialises in an instant, roaring loudly as it flies after the jeep. You blink, the nausea catching up in an instant as you press yourself against his chest, his shirt gripped tightly in your hands.

Slow, deep breaths, you chant to yourself. The moment of weightlessness when he’d suddenly grabbed you was terrifying. It wasn’t the heights or motion that had your stomach churning, but more of the loss of control of your senses in that split moment. 

Either way, the musky bergamot scent on his collar mixed with the weird presence of vanilla icing helps calm your racing heart down. “Are you done sniffing me yet?” Your eyes snap open, shifting into an upright position in an instant as you shove him away. 

Clearing your throat, you focus your gaze on the jeep that’s a few feet ahead. “Can you go any faster?” 

It takes a second for him to respond. “Yeah.” Your clear refusal to turn around and reveal the mortifying shade of red that colours your entire face. You don’t even turn that red when you drink alcohol or exercise. 

“Really though?” 

His sudden question makes you turn, the offended tone in his voice making you momentarily forget about the heavy flush in your cheeks. “You just had to use that song?”

The moment when your phone rang loudly pops back into your mind, grinning widely with all embarrassment long gone at the reminder. “Can you blame me though? It was perfect. I don’t even have to tell who it is when I pick it up.”

“The band made an appreciation song once,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Whatever. What’s got you so worked up about them anyway? I can just let Kai know to take over.” He pauses at your furrowed brows and tightly drawn lips, taking the hint to fall silent and wait for your explanation.

“The one with the mask… They’re the thief I ran into at the museum. The one who stole the scroll and made a hole in the ground.” His eyes widen at your explanation, inhaling sharply through his teeth with a wince. “That’s why we have to catch them. Isn’t that your job, anyway?”

He shoots you a glance, rolling his eyes. “Yes, that is my job. One that I don’t get paid too well for, by the way.” You blink, the corner of your lips turned down into a sceptical frown.

“Don’t you get sponsorships and stuff? Zane told me about how you guys were models for this protein bar.” 

“Don’t even start,” he groans, tilting his head back with an exasperated huff. “I couldn’t go anywhere without seeing the posters.” The dragon swerves to make a hard right, and you almost fall off the saddle if not for his quick reflexes.

“If you wanted to get off, you could’ve just asked,” he states in a sassy manner. You’d love to smack the smug smirk off his face, but at what feels like twenty feet in the air, you're not about to take that risk. Instead, you settle for a grumpy scowl, letting his arm act as your seat belt.

Cole’s dragon swoops lower, bringing you both closer to the ground as the jeep speeds away with the stolen goods. You grip the dragon’s saddle tighter, frustration and determination swirling within you.

“Honestly, it’s like these guys want to get caught,” you mutter under your breath, your eyes locked on the jeep. The thief with the mask is leaning out of the vehicle, seemingly unfazed by the height of the dragon above them.

“They're probably professionals,” Cole replies, his tone light but focused. “But that’s what makes catching them all the more fun.”

“Fun?” you scoff, shooting him a look. “You call this fun?”

He grins, the wind tousling his hair as he manoeuvres the dragon with practised ease. “C’mon, you’ve gotta admit, there’s a thrill to it. Besides, you’re not exactly sitting back and watching.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t deny the adrenaline pumping through your veins. “Fine, maybe a little,” you admit begrudgingly, though your mind is still on the thief.

As the jeep turns sharply down an alley, Cole’s gaze hardens. “C’mon Rocky,” he urges, the dragon barely acknowledging him with a soft growl. His arm tightens around your waist, pulling you closer as it descends. 

Unfortunately, he fails to mention one tiny detail—his plan to dematerialize the dragon upon landing. So, when you both hit the ground and the dragon vanishes, your hands flail, searching desperately for anything to grab onto. Fortunately, his arm is still securely around you.

Well, now it’s more like he’s carrying you by the waist, your legs and arms flailing helplessly in midair. You’re left with an expression of pure, unfiltered defeat as you dangle from his grasp like an oversized sack of potatoes.

“For your information, I’m not enjoying this ninja process.”

He barely acknowledges you with a hum, gently setting you back down onto solid ground. He takes a step back, the earlier warmth of his body heat gone in an instant. You dust yourself off, trying to play off the utter ridiculousness felt from earlier. 

The jeep is heading down the alley toward you both. He readies his stance, eyes narrowed from under his gi (when did he even put on the hood, anyway?). You copy him unsurely, knees bent and arms held up in a defensive stance. “Won’t they run us over?”

He snorts. “They wouldn’t dare. I’m the Earth Ninja! They know better than to do that!”

The jeep doesn’t slow down.

“You might know that,” the loud purring of its engine doesn’t decrease. In fact, it does the exact opposite as it speeds up. “But do they??”

With each millisecond that passes, the confidence in his eyes begins to waver. You take a deep breath, blood rushing through your veins in a roaring symphony. At the very last second, you push him out of the way and crash to the ground, landing squarely on top of him.

As you land on top of him, the thief at the wheel locks eyes with you through the open window. Their smug gaze practically beamed through their mask, even honking a couple times as they stick a gloved hand out the window in a mocking farewell.

Frustration bubbles up inside you, and before you can stop yourself, your fist connects with whatever’s beneath you. Unfortunately, that happens to be Cole’s abdomen. His pained hiss snaps you out of it, and you turn to see his grimace. Deciding not to give him an apology after almost getting the both of you run over, you ignore his outstretched hand in a request for help.

“You said they wouldn’t run us over!!”

He takes a deep breath. “Well,” he starts, looking from you to the jeep, “I was wrong.”

You’ve gotta be kidding me.

He groans as he sits up, the sting of your punch still lingering. “But in my defence, who actually tries to run over a ninja?” He gives you a lopsided grin, though you can sense the irritation bubbling beneath its surface.

You don’t give him a moment to recover. “Them, apparently.” Jittery annoyance fuels your pacing. “Can’t we go after them again? Where’s Rocky?”

“I’d love to, but,” he finally manages to stand. “Someone decided to punch me and leave me winded.”

"Don’t blame me for saving your life," you snap. The adrenaline is still thrumming through your veins, making your hands shake as you shove them into your pockets. "Besides, you’re the one who said they wouldn’t dare."

Cole rolls his eyes, his expression softening when he spots the slightest tremble that you try to hide. "Okay, fair point. But we’ve gotta figure out our next move before they get too far."

You stop pacing, turning to face him. "Right, so where’s Rocky? Or are we gonna jog after them like idiots?"

He glances around the alley, his brow furrowing. "Rocky needs time to recharge after dematerializing, so we’re on foot for now." He catches the look on your face and quickly adds, "But I’ve got an idea. There’s a shortcut through the market district. If we hustle, we might catch up before they get too far."

You let out an exasperated sigh, but you nod, already mentally preparing for the sprint. "Fine, lead the way. But if we end up lost, I’m blaming you."

Cole chuckles, already starting down the alley at a fast jog. "Trust me, you’re gonna love my shortcuts."

As you follow him, the banter between you eases some of the tension. Despite the annoyance simmering beneath the surface, there’s a strange comfort in the rhythm of your bickering. You might not be thrilled about this whole soulmate business, but in moments like this, you can almost see why fate would pair you two together.

Almost.

The roar of the jeep’s engine is familiar to your ears, practically sensing it coming down the last of the twists and turns he’s led you through. “C’mon!” You urge him quickly, sprinting the last few metres to see the jeep turn the corner.

You glare through the windshield at the thief whose eyes widen in pure shock, not having expected you to get there so quickly. Satisfaction makes your heart calm, spotting Cole’s narrowed eyes filled with determination.

He skids to a stop beside you, lifting his arms and slamming them into the ground. The earth rumbles, responding to his will. A crater forms instantly in the jeep’s path. The driver has no time to react, plummeting into it. The jeep flips violently, crashing into the far side. 

A plume of smoke is sent up from the impact, and you begin to approach it before flinching when it explodes right in front of your eyes. Instinctively shielding yourself from the debris, you turn to look at Cole in disbelief.

“That wasn’t me!” He denies vehemently, holding his hands up innocently and shaking his head as the jeep behind you is engulfed in flames. The smell of burnt rubber and gasoline fills the air, onlookers whispering to each other and taking out phones to record the scene.

You take a tentative step forward, sharing a glance with him as you approach the wreckage. You squint through the haze, expecting to see the robbers either unconscious or scrambling to escape.

The embers die down, someone having grabbed a fire extinguisher and extinguished the flames until all that’s left is smoke. But when it clears, you find the jeep completely empty, save for the stolen jewellery scattered in the backseat. The robbers have vanished, leaving behind only the glittering spoils of their heist.

“They’re gone,” you mutter, half in disbelief. Cole steps closer, examining the wreckage with a frown.

“Must’ve bailed right before the crash somehow,” he says, his tone laced with frustration. He turns to you, the remnants of the battle still lingering in his tense posture. “At least we got the jewellery back.”

You nod, though your eyes linger on the destroyed jeep, wondering just how close you were to catching them. The tension in the air slowly dissipates as the reality of the situation sinks in, but the mystery of the robbers’ disappearance only adds to the unease.

The aftermath of it all is pretty straightforward. The jewellery is returned to the store owner, though Cole gives you a stern glare when he catches you discreetly trying to negotiate for a reward. Frowning in defeat, you give up when he threatens to tell Master Wu.

“You’re still a snitch, y’know.” He takes a sip from the bubble tea in his hands. Your bubble tea, in fact. The ice had already melted a long time ago so the drink was already horribly diluted, but he still insisted on finishing it instead of throwing it away.

“Even if I am,” he exhales slowly, his slow strides matching your lazy walking pace. “At least we kind of got a look at them. Maybe Zane can draw a composite sketch. I’ll let Jay know to update the police stations, and for Kai to keep a lookout during his patrol.”

“Teamwork really does make the dream work.” 

“Yeah, I guess we do make a good team.” Your playful grin falters at his response, looking away from him to the buildings opposite. The words held no ulterior hidden meaning, yet the thrumming of your heartbeat distracts you from properly focusing on the conversation.

A moment of hesitation is all he needs to grab your wrist, steps slowing to a halt. Your eyes flit from his hand to his concerned eyes, barely able to breathe. He watches you carefully, lips parting and closing as he tries to organise his thoughts. Finally, he formulates a proper sentence, uttering the exact one you’ve been dreading to hear.

“I think we need to talk. About us.”

Shit.

Taglist: @candyquokka @mossy-mika @em-100 @cursedreader @alicesmile1 @alexa24 @raegreenie4 @burdeningbitch @viennasthings @cadencannot @ml3zqo @nanasemo @certified-cole-simp @beescomet @theblindhag @mitbin24 @sweetlittlebumblebree @brooklyniswriting @cantbecreative @something-else3 @iinlovewithfictionalppl @itz-mooonlight @jebesovovise @ryeheep @letthelightin2112 @classically-bored

[malarign]

ur probs insanely busy but I just had an idea based on a TikTok I saw (typical)… basically I think it would make a really good heeseung angst where he thought it would be fun to play around with his partner and make them a little jealous - either cause they were unintentionally being too friendly with someone else or whatever you feel like coming up with - but it just turns out going bad and his partner gets super upset and there’s a lot of comfort. anyway now that I typed it it kinda sounds cringe but go wild if u want

jealousy, jealousy

(when you get jealous of his co-worker)

contains: idolbf!Heeseung x gn!reader | genre: angst, fluff | tw! kissing, mentions of food, the reader is insecure about their looks, please remember, everybody is pretty in their own way | wc: 1,1k

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreciated!

author’s note: thank you anon and sorry for the delay, i was in fact pretty busy 😵‍💫 also! no hate to the anon who sent this request but if you want to make your partner jealous intentionally just don’t get into a relationship! 🤭

“Have a lovely day, dear! I’ll let you know when I’m done with work today and maybe we’ll grab some dinner together?” Heeseung said in a rush, putting his shoes on.

“Sure, just don’t overwork yourself m’kay?” You fixed the collar of his coat and smiled.

“Anything for you, baby.” He left a last sweet kiss on your lips and bid his last goodbyes for today.

Closing the door behind him you decided to get to work on your assignments. You sighed seeing the workload you had. A sudden rush of motivation took over your body and mind and got to grips with everything. Closing your laptop you took a look at the clock on the wall in front of you. The day just started and you had plenty of time before Heeseung would come back home, so you decided to pay him a visit at work.

It wouldn’t be the first time you visited him at work, yet you always can’t help but feel anxious at the thought of your presence there among other idols. You were intimidated not only because of their popularity and fame but also because of their stunning looks which often made you jealous. His pretty co-workers didn’t have to do anything, in particular, to make you feel insecure, intimidated, and simply ugly. Despite your concerns you never dared to disclose them to your boyfriend, afraid he would laugh at your worries.

You arrived at his company and went straight to their practice room, but you met with silence and darkness. Confused you wanted to call Heeseung, but then a familiar voice caught your attention.

“Y/n?” You saw Jake at the other end of the hallway. “Heeseung didn’t tell me you’ll come over” He smiled after jogging your way.

“I finished my work earlier today so I thought I would surprise him but can’t find him.”

“Oh! He’s eating lunch right now with the rest of the guys. Come on, join us, they’re serving your favorite,” Jake laughed as he nudged your side jokingly.

You felt your stomach grumble at the thought of their cafeteria’s food and walked with him to the elevator. Before you stepped in, he excused himself as he had some other obligations and left you.

Opening the door to the dining area you were met with the smell of fried rice and chicken. Many people gathered to eat so finding Heeseung bordered on the miraculous. When you finally noticed him you saw he was talking to one of his co-workers, smiling widely and telling jokes as they both ate their lunches. You took a few steps back at the sight, a wave of fear rushed down your spine.

Their smile, their hair, their eyes, their figure. Everything about them screamed perfection, making you embarrassed about how you looked. They’re beautiful, talented in many ways, while you were just an ordinary person, who wouldn’t find their place on stage.

Heeseung raised from his seat after he finished his meal and made his way to the elevators, right where you were. You quickly turned around and pushed a button to close the door as fast as possible. Looking at the mirror you noticed a few teardrops on your cheeks and wiped them off your face.

“I’m back!” Heeseung’s voice echoed in your apartment as you quietly fidgeted with the hem of the blanket you were under. “Jake told me you were at Hybe, why didn’t you tell me?” he asked and made his way to the kitchen and took a bottle of apple juice.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled under your nose and continued playing with the fabric.

“I didn’t hear you, can you repeat?”

“I don’t know, Heeseung,” you repeated yourself louder, sounding a little bit too harsh than you intended to.

Your tone and the way you called him by his name and not one of many nicknames you used made him confused.

“Hey, are you mad?” he asked and sat next to you. “Is it because I didn’t call? I’m so sorry, my love, but I got caught up in so much work I didn’t realize it got so late,” he said and tilted his head as he spoke.

“No, it’s not because you didn’t call.” You looked him in the eyes and that’s when he noticed your tear-stained cheeks.

“Are you crying? Love, what’s happening?” Heeseung cupped your face as he scanned your features. “We agreed not to hide our worries from each other,” he reminded you.

His sweet voice and full of love words made you cry, leaving him even more confused than before. Quietly embracing you in a comforting and warm hug he waited for you to calm down. Instead, he heard your voice, full of distress.

“Why would you love me, when there are so many other people who are way better than me?” You spoke incomprehensibly, but still enough for him to understand what you said.

“Why would you say that? Love, where is that coming from?”

You pulled away from his embrace and wiped your tears to look at him.

“Why would you want to be with me, an ordinary person, who will never understand your struggles as a public person? Why would you want to be with me, who has nothing to offer but coarseness? I’m not as beautiful as your co-workers. I’m not as talented, as charismatic, as interesting as them, so why would you want to settle down with me? When will you realize that they’re perfect and I’m not enough for you?”

Heeseung listened to you attentively, keeping eye contact with you throughout your whole monologue. When you were done he thought for a second to gather his wits and took your hands into his, rubbing your skin with his thumbs.

“Love, why didn’t you tell me earlier you felt that way? Gosh, I don’t care that you’re not a public person. Why would I want you to be one? Y/n, nobody knows and understands me more than you do. What you offer is not coarseness but stability and my safe space. Nobody makes me feel so safe and loved as you do. You don’t have to be an idol to be the most beautiful, talented, charismatic, and interesting person in my eyes. I love you as you are and nothing will change that, okay?”

You lowered your head at his words, feeling embarrassed at your own jealousy.

“My dear, please look at me,” Heeseung spoke and brushed your hair off your face. Looking at him smiling reassuringly made you cry again. You fell into his arms and wrapped yours around his neck, as he left soft kisses on your skin. “I love you so much,” he whispered.

“I love you, Hee.”

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

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[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: Surprise Sunday update! I was able to put the finishing touches on Part 2 a bit early. 😉

Song used in this chapter is “If I Didn’t Care” by The Ink Spots (but more like Amy Adams' version). Song inspiration for this chapter (and the song title) is “All My Livin Time” by Radio Company (Jensen’s band with Steve Carlson).

Word Count: 4,500 Warnings: 18+ only! Willful seduction, kidnapping, SB being himself lol.

Part 2: You Move Me, Baby

This next mission was going to be a bit more…hands on. 

It was a gentlemen’s club, styled like a 1920s speakeasy, of all things. If nothing else, Soldier Boy was predictable.

Through a crack in the dressing room door, you didn’t see any gentlemen here. You saw a bunch of skeevy bastards. 

For the record, you didn’t like this plan. But as Butcher once again pointed out, Soldier Boy’s less likely to fuckin’ recognize you than any of us. 

And you certainly couldn’t (wouldn’t) imagine Butcher in rhinestone nipple tassels. 

Right now, you were waiting to be assigned an outfit. Hopefully, you could just blend into the background of whatever performance act the stage manager wanted to slip you into. And you really hoped you wouldn’t have to striptease on stage.

In the meantime, you sat on a stool in a black lace bra, matching panties, and sheer pantyhose, while Annie was helping you with your stage makeup. Years as a pageant child had taught her well. You felt like Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality, fending off getting hairspray up her ass. 

Sure, you had gone undercover several times, but this was slightly out of your wheelhouse. You bit your lip, forgetting that you were already wearing several coats of scarlet red lipstick. 

Annie slapped your hand. “Stop it. You’re smudging my paint job.”

You had Butcher and M.M. to thank for arranging this little detail. 

May they both rot in hell, you silently simmered. 

“Oh, stop pouting. You look great,” Annie said. You caught the little smirk she was trying to taper down. 

Then the manager’s head popped into the dressing room. When he verified that all the young women had at least their underwear on, he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

“All right, listen up,” he said in Spanish. You understood just enough to follow what he was saying. “Angelica got food poisoning.”

You grimaced. Angelica was the main act. She had a whole burlesque-style routine with the rest of the women—for which you were meant to step in for one of the girls in the ensemble. Hopefully in the back. 

“Daniela, you’re filling in,” said the manager, pointing to a busty brunette. 

“What about the second act?” asked another girl. If you remembered right, her name was Raquel. “Dani can’t sing like Angelica to save her fucking life.”

“Excuse me, bitch. I sing better than you,” Daniela snapped back.

The manager rolled his eyes and clapped his hands harshly to end the bickering. 

“Okay. Which one of you bitches can actually sing?” he asked, first in Spanish, then in English, you noticed as he glanced at you.

Annie looked at you with raised brows. You glared back at her. 

Damn you for telling her about your childhood church choir days. You were sure your religious mother never thought you’d be using those talents like this.  

“No,” you said firmly. Annie just smiled and waved the manager over.

That was how the two of them ended up all but pushing you on stage—after Annie had wrangled you into a shimmering red gown over your underwear and pantyhose. It was overlayed with delicate beading in intricate patterns. And it was easily the most beautiful thing you’d ever had on your body.

However, you did take issue with how long the slit was, running all the way up to your hip bone.

Not really ‘20s style, now is it? you thought sourly.

Annie just slapped your ass and guided you forward.

You shot back one last look at her—one that swore you’d have your revenge.

Then the curtain slid open. 

Fuck me, you thought nervously. This was really happening!

The lights blinded you for a moment, and you blinked the glare out of your eyes. They soon adjusted as you forced yourself to move towards the microphone at the right-hand side of the stage, close to the live band. The pianist shot you a smile and a wink as he started to play in dulcet tones.

Steeling yourself, you grabbed the microphone with a slight tremor in your hands. You stared out into the crowd as the rest of the band joined in, slow and jazzy. 

You’d informed the manager that you really only knew one song by heart.

“Eh, that is too slow,” he’d replied to you in English.

“It’s that, or Dani belts out in her best soprano,” you informed him. He sighed and waved a resigned hand. 

“Get her the red one,” he told Raquel. She then handed you the dress on a hanger. 

Now, you held the microphone between both hands and started the song your grandmother used to sing to you when you were a kid.

“If I didn’t care, more than words can say,” you began. “If I didn’t care, would I feel this way?”

You took in an unsteady breath. With each note, your voice was getting stronger, more confident. 

“If this isn’t love, then why do I thrill? And what makes my head go round and round, while my heart…stands…still…”

As you eased into the rest of the song, you remembered your mission. 

You scanned the dark room, rows of men of all ages, women serving drinks and food and their own bodies. You weren’t finding your target.

But this intel was good. The source was the girl you’d replaced in the show, and M.M. had already worked out her safe exit out of the city for a while. 

There. You finally saw it. 

Or rather, you saw him.

Towards the back, Soldier Boy sat at a large exclusive booth. He had a long joint propped between his fingers, and a working woman from the club already propositioning to service him. Her manicured hand eased down his chest. 

He also seemed to have hired men sitting at a table nearby. 

Your voice nearly hitched at the sight of him, but you forced yourself to take a calming breath during a musical interlude. 

You knew Annie and the rest of the team were here in the club somewhere, to back you up. But Soldier Boy knew Butcher and his team were onto him. the bastard would recognize them. You were the distraction here.

And if he went away with that escort, he could easily disappear upstairs and hop out the window again, gone like a coil of weed smoke.

Somehow, you needed to keep his ass in his seat.

So your voice came back in strong for the final verse.

“If I didn’t care, would it be the same? Would my every prayer begin and end…with just your name?” 

You watched Soldier Boy’s gaze drift toward the stage. Your lips curved as you held his eyes for a moment…but then, you coyly slid your gaze away. 

Okay, what’s going to grab his attention…

You shifted on the stage, letting the curve of your hip and ass sway to one side. You raised your other foot on the tips of your toes. And the slit running up your leg slid open, revealing your tall silver heels and a smooth leg, all the way up to the inside of your thigh.  

Unfortunately, you hadn’t been able to fit your gun holster this time.

“And would I be sure that this is love beyond compare…” Your voice rang out on the high note; at that climactic point, the music reached a crescendo.

You turned your head and looked directly into Soldier Boy’s eyes, and his mouth slid into a grin. 

He was watching you. 

Good.

“Would all this be true,” you sang, “if I didn’t care for you…”

As the final notes reverberated from the piano, applause and male whoops erupted from the crowd. 

You slowly released the microphone, breaking off eye contact with your target. 

Then you turned around, trying to hide the nervous tremor in your legs. You pressed a discreet hand to the communicator in your ear after the curtain fell behind you, and you told the team. 

“He’s here.” 

Annie was no longer backstage. 

“Good job, crooner,” M.M. said on the comm. 

“Watch him ‘til he’s ready to leave,” Butcher said to everyone.

You agreed and dodged the manager so you could slip to the back room within the dressing room. 

You were about to change into your real clothes (and grab your gun), when you were stopped by a Latino man. Though he clearly wasn’t a local or a tourist. He looked ex-military, complete with a crew cut and dark beard. 

“Soldier Boy would like to meet you,” he said in lightly accented English. You affected some doe-eyed shock, even though some of your surprise was genuine. 

You’d just wanted to keep him watching the show. You hadn’t expected him to take the bait this much. 

“Oh, wow…where? Now?” you asked.

“Now,” he confirmed. “Upstairs.”

He couldn’t even pick me up himself? Lazy, you wanted to tsk.

You spied the stage manager over by the doorway. He gave you a stern nod that told you that you had no choice but to accept. 

Not that you ever intended to decline. Though of fucking course the manager had known Soldier Boy was here. He was probably a damn regular. 

You gave Soldier Boy’s man a charming smile. “Lead the way.”

This wasn’t the plan, exactly. You decided it was even better though. Just infinitely more dangerous. 

Even though you had years of training, honing your body and your mind in a fight, you weren’t a supe. You were, in fact, exceedingly breakable.

“Are you crazy, cherie?” Frenchie said on the comm. 

You also thought you heard M.M. mutter an, “Aw shit.”

“She don’t got a choice now,” Butcher said. “But it’s a good play to get him alone. Slip her one of them hockey pucks.”

You heard M.M., Annie, Butcher, and Frenchie’s continued twittering back and forth about the change of plan. Meanwhile, you were being escorted upstairs.

Kimiko managed to maneuver into your path from the opposite direction, and she slipped a small disk into your hand as she passed you. 

You gave her a grateful wink and discreetly placed the device into your bra while your escort wasn’t looking. 

It wasn’t a dose of Novichok, but it was something that might keep Soldier Boy occupied for a moment. You intended to use it if he got too fucking handsy.

You were let into a room on the third floor. With the lavish way it was furnished, complete with a king-sized bed, it almost looked like a hotel room. 

Yeah, Hotel California, you thought wryly, as the door shut behind you. 

Soldier Boy sat at a table by the far wall, gazing out the window with yet another joint (or perhaps the same one?) and a generous pour of whiskey in his hand. 

Even you could admit, he cut an attractive figure. He was dressed in light brown slacks, a matching suit jacket and a white dress shirt with the top buttons left open. A simple ensemble, but well-tailored and suited to the golden tan he’d developed here in South America. His beard was neatly trimmed, his short hair styled back in its familiar sweep on both sides. 

Even seated, his posture was casual, yet controlled as his head turned to meet your gaze. A smile started to curve his lips. 

Show time, you told yourself. 

“You’re new,” he said. You tilted your head, a bit of flirtation in your smile.

“What makes you say that?” you asked.

He gave you an oh please look. With the hand that held his whiskey, he gestured with a curling finger. 

“Come ‘ere. Don’t be shy,” he said. It was an order rather than a request, but you hid your instinctive annoyance.

You subtly took in a steadying breath. And you moved farther into the room. You didn’t stop until you were sitting opposite him at the window, crossing your legs beneath the table. 

You could tell he’d expected you to take a seat in his lap, but to a degree, you didn’t want to do what he expected. He was likely paying the club well for this time. You didn’t want to make it easy.

You wanted him to be enticed. Invested in this moment. 

And distracted, for as long as he let you. 

You watched him glance down with interest at your bare leg peeking out. At your strappy silver heel shining along with your dress in the soft lamplight, which casted shadows across his profile. 

“Want a drink?” he asked. 

You were surprised he was offering you anything. You’d half-expected him to order you onto your knees already. Upon which, he would’ve received the gift currently residing in your bra a bit early. 

You didn't want to take any drink you hadn't poured yourself, but you also needed to keep this act going...

"I'm not gonna fucking drug you," he said, reading the look in your eyes. "What would be the fucking point of that?"

Hmph. smart-ass motherfucker, you thought. But you didn't detect a lie.

You quirked your head and took the proffered sip from his glass. You wanted to play it cool, but maybe you also needed a little liquid courage. 

“All right, easy on the booze. Get his guard down,” Butcher said in your ear. You resisted the urge to frown.

Could Butcher see you somehow too? Or was he just hearing the ice clinking in the glass as you gulped it down. 

“Did you enjoy my performance?” you asked Soldier Boy.

“Still am, doll face,” he said with a smirk. You raised a brow. 

“I’m not that new,” you replied, biting indelicately on a dark cherry. Your heeled foot slowly slid against the inside of his thigh. 

It was his turn to raise brow. His head tilted with his smirk. 

You didn’t know if he was more amused than turned on, but his gaze roamed openly over your legs, the cleavage on display, your dark red lips. 

“Are you enjoying your stay in Medellin?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation going. 

“Oh, yeah. I’m having a fuckin’ ball,” he said wryly. He dabbed some ash off his blunt with a finger. 

There was something off there, and you didn’t miss it.

“You sound bored,” you said. Soldier Boy considered you with a lustful, challenging gaze. 

“Maybe. You gonna help me with that, sweetheart?”

A flutter of nerves churned in your belly, but you used it, letting the feeling prickle awareness across your skin. 

“Depends,” you said coyly. 

Both his brows rose this time, as if he was surprised you were actually pretending to resist him. 

“On?”

You subtly leaned forward when you gave him back his glass, allowing him to spy a bit more down your dress. You stared into his deep green eyes, and tried not to get lost yourself. He was an attractive man, but he was also your target. A job you intended to finish. 

A smile played at your lips.

“On what excites you,” you replied. 

By the way his eyes darkened, his smile curving, you thought he liked that answer. 

Then his hand extended toward you, a silent command in his gaze. Steeling yourself, you tried your best to be graceful and sensuous when you took his hand. He playfully jerked you forward, making you fall into his lap. 

You waved some dank weed smoke out of your face as you looked down at his amused one. 

He was nearly down to the roach on his joint. Meanwhile, his free heavy hand slid up your bare leg, disappearing beneath your dress and making goosebumps spread across your skin. Your breath hitched, though you disguised it with a smile. 

“You afraid of me, sweetheart?” he cooed. 

Yes, if you were honest with yourself. 

There was a false sense of security in his deep voice. You looked down into his eyes, very green and intensely focused on you, despite his air of nonchalance. 

“Not really,” you replied. “Only that you might get ash on my dress.”

He chuckled, smoke blowing out his nose. He put out the joint in the ashtray and took another sip of his whiskey, likely to drown out the cotton taste in his mouth. You laid a hand on his chest, fingers spreading between the open buttons, and felt his warm skin. 

He glanced up at you with another challenging tilt to his head. What are you gonna do now?

You met that challenge, boldly leaning down to press a kiss against his lips. You held his face, delving your fingers into his soft hair. 

Soldier Boy grabbed your hips with a bruising force. It made you wince, instinctively biting into his lower lip. He uttered a pleased sound, guttural in this throat. You braced yourself against the wall behind him for leverage as his chair started to tip back. 

Before either of you could fall, he lifted you effortlessly by the waist and pivoted, pinning you against that wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist as his tongue invaded your mouth, devouring you with hot and heavy hands holding you in place.

His fingers pressed into the flesh of your thighs, and you knew you couldn’t easily escape if you needed to.

This is getting out of hand… 

He was busy kissing a wet and sloppy line down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. It actually felt so fucking good to be touched. You hadn’t experienced it in so long, it almost startled you when your heated core pulsed with the friction you were feeling against the hardness in his slacks. 

You would never admit it, but it wasn’t an act when you moaned into his ear. Fuck…

But when his hand again slipped under your dress and crept up your inner thigh, alarm bells triggered in your mind as panic started to set in. You panted for breath. 

With him seemingly distracted, you reached down into your bra and grabbed the metal disk. 

You gasped as Soldier Boy grabbed your wrist, tight as a vice. He looked down at you with a sly grin. 

“You were fuckable in black, but red’s my favorite so far,” he said. 

Your eyes widened. When the hell did he see me in black?

And then you remembered. You’d worn a black dress at the last club, where you got groped on the dance floor and found Soldier Boy’s latest note…

Had he hung around after all, watching you and the team pick up his clues?

And you realized, he knew exactly who you were. 

Soldier Boy glanced down at your lips, then at the tops of your breasts heaving as you caught your breath. His eyes shone with mischief and lust. 

“It’s a real shame. You’re probably a good fuck too,” he remarked. It sparked your irate disgust like a wildfire.

Then you smirked. “You can fuck this.” 

You activated the disk in your hand and flicked it at him. He instinctively grabbed at his face, releasing you. The device attached to his cheek and electrified enough volts through his body to drop an elephant. 

Maybe five. The CIA weapons specialist hadn’t been too sure.

And a star bolt shot Soldier Boy in the chest, shoving him away before he could grab at you. 

You jumped back and continued to put several feet of distance between you and Soldier Boy, while Annie and the rest of your team poured into the room. They were poised for a fight, once Soldier Boy ripped the device off his face with a grunt. It probably hadn’t hurt him much, but he looked pissed now. 

He rolled the kinks out of his neck and surveyed the room with a slow gait. He spared you a fleeting glance. You were now at the safety of Kimiko’s side, and Frenchie handed you a gun. 

“Ah, the Scooby Gang,” Soldier Boy remarked. He nodded at Butcher. “This is how you repay me for taking care of Homelander? My own son.”

“He weren’t your fucking son,” Butcher replied. “I’d reckon you know that best of all.”

Soldier Boy’s lips twitched. Whether at a smile or a frown, you couldn’t tell. 

“You found me, remember? So what, you got buyer’s remorse?” he said.

“See, the problem is, supes like you are what we call,” said Butcher, “a menace to fucking society.” 

Soldier Boy’s lips pulled down into a frown. He looked a cross between annoyed and impatient. 

“I fought for my country. I saved lives—”

“You took just as many as you might’ve saved,” M.M. interrupted. “And not just that building you burnt the fuck up last year.” 

Soldier Boy hesitated at that. “You really wanna do this?” 

You all really want to die? his eyes said. He got determined silence from all of you. He rolled his shoulders and adjusted his blazer. 

“All right,” he shrugged. 

Then all hell broke loose. You ducked for cover as Soldier Boy deflected the giant flare gun M.M. shot at him. With his bare hand. 

Hired security then poured into the room—you assumed hired by Soldier Boy. And you protected Hughie from getting his neck snapped by shooting a man between the eyes.

You and M.M. continued to fight them off. Meanwhile, Kimiko and Annie tried to give Butcher and Frenchie a chance to get close with the Novichok gas on Soldier Boy. 

You took care of three more men before you heard a low buzzing sound. You turned around, and a gasp fell from your lips when you saw Soldier Boy’s chest lighting up. 

You knew what came next. 

And so did Annie. She poured her all into her next star bolt—which managed to shove Soldier Boy through the window. She and Kimiko flew or otherwise ran out the window to follow him. While Butcher, Frenchie, and M.M. helped you fight off the last of the hired guns. 

Finally, you covered Hughie as the five of you left the normal, human way, and ran down the stairs to exit the club. By the time you were able to join Annie and Kimiko, however, Soldier Boy had disappeared.

You glared down the dark, busy streets of Medellin. 

Damn it!

You returned to the hotel disappointed and angry beyond fucking belief. Mostly at yourself.

After all the work you did, having to seduce and make out with that bastard, only to discover he’d made you long before you took the stage at the club.

Fucking hell, you thought angrily as you kicked at your suitcase. It sent your clothes tumbling across the dirty carpet, but right now you didn’t give a fuck. Damn cocky bastard. 

In the bathroom, you kicked off your heels in relief. You looked yourself over in the mirror and found various cuts and bruises from the fight. Your softly curled hair was a shambles, along with your makeup. 

Parts of your dress were torn, along with your pantyhose. Which was probably Soldier Boy’s doing, if you thought about it. You sighed. 

You were about to start undressing, but then you heard something. A small sound, like a thump. 

Your gun was on the table in the main room. Frowning in suspicion, you left the bathroom cautiously. Before your hand could close around your gun, a gloved hand grabbed your wrist. 

You aimed a punch with your free one and caught a man directly in the jaw. He reeled back, but was quick to recover and try to grab you again. 

While the guy was strong, you could feel that he wasn’t a supe. A human, you could deal with. He wore a mask over his face, but you could see he had shoulder-length brown hair. He was tall and lean, and one of his boots was strangely larger than the other.

You didn’t have time to focus on it. You redirected his following blow and used his strength against him, flipping him over your shoulder. Unfortunately, he landed on the table that held your poor laptop. 

“Aw, shit,” you snapped with a grimace. You searched for your gun in the wreckage. 

While you were somewhat distracted, he aimed a kick that caught you in the face, sending you onto your back with a pained cry. You quickly rolled over and got to your feet, just as your attacker threw out fist after fist.

You dodged and shoved away most of them, until he grabbed your arm and managed to crack his elbow into your temple.

You went down and hit your head hard against the bedframe.

And it was lights out.

You slowly, painfully woke up in a moving car. 

You were suffering the cottony taste of a gag in your mouth and a musty bag over your head. Your wrists were tied in front of you, and it felt like you were shoved into the backseat. The car was quiet, save for the radio playing Latin pop on low volume. 

You never would’ve thought Shakira would be the background track of your kidnapping, but here you were. 

The car eventually stopped and you were dragged out, forced onto your feet on a cobblestone driveway. Then into a house. 

…Well, this fucking sucks.

The thought rattled through your mind as you were led down a hallway, across a cold expanse of tile floor. You couldn’t see where you were going with this stuffy bag over your head, but you knew it was tile. Your bare feet all but scraped across it as they dragged you. 

Whoever held your arms in a vice grip eventually forced you to sit in a rickety wooden chair. They pulled your wrists behind the chair and bound them together with a zip tie. 

You felt the slit on your dress sliding open, so you crossed your legs, for whatever good that would do you. At the very least, it would give the impression that you were sitting here casually, and not (figuratively) shitting yourself with fear.  

“What the hell is this?” a deep, familiar voice asked.

“A gift.” You knew this voice as well. Neither one instilled you with calm.

Then the bag finally came off your head. The gag did not, however. You knew your red dress was in unfortunate tatters. You knew you were bruised and scratched, and overall worse for wear.

But when your gaze found your kidnapper, you glared up at him with a stubborn tilt to your chin. Antonio, Señor Groping Bastard from the club, was smirking back at you. 

What the fuck.

Then you noticed him.

Soldier Boy stared back at you with raised brows, and instant recognition in his eyes. His lips curved into a smirk.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

AN: 😬 So we finally made it to the prologue opener! Was it everything you thought it would be? How did you like her attempt at "undercover?" 🤭

And are you ready for what's coming next?

To keep reading: Part 3

Soldier Boy Masterlist

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[kurishiri]

03 . . . the past records ˗ˏˋ🍎🪞´ˎ˗

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— cw: none.

Liam: Hearing Al say they played this game to decide whether he stayed by Lord Elbie’s side or died... it makes me wonder, does he really hate being by his side that much?

Roger: Haha, it’s nothing that serious. If he really hated staying by his side that much, he wouldn’t have just left it to something like luck. He would’ve taken it in his own hands.

Liam: Right? That’s what I was thinking.

Roger: He says stuff like ‘it’s a game of luck,’ but really he just wants a cover up.

Liam: So... if he doesn’t have an excuse, he can’t be together with him? But why?

Roger: ......Who knows.

Liam: Hmm... I feel like despite hearing the whole story, I still don’t know what’s the answer to that question that started it all.

L: Why is Al with Lord Elbie?

Roger: Word’s that when they met, they were both going through something that made it hard for them to be apart from each other.

R: And anything more about that is beyond me.

Liam: Hm...

L: You see, Al has been helping me satisfy my curiosity by indulging in my whims...

L: ...but he would really have gone and done something dangerous, if I asked for it, I feel like.

L: Like, he puts his life on the line just for a game of luck... so much so, I wouldn’t be surprised if we found his corpse tomorrow... I guess.

L: Oh, maybe he also has the ‘Cheshire Cat’s Curse’ like me?

Roger: ...If he did have such a Curse, maybe he would be able to be a part of others’ lives without feeling the need to keep up a pretense.

—— Perspective shift ——

Today’s mission for Crown was to pass judgment on the person who’s been illicitly making drugs, and to gather proof of their crime.

William and Harrison were to pass judgment,

while Alfons and Elbert were assigned to gather proof.

In a certain warehouse containing imported goods,

Alfons and Elbert were able to find the raw materials used to make that dangerous drug hidden within the very general spices.

They were carrying out their mission without a hitch——

when suddenly, several bullets shot through the air, piercing holes through the burlap bags piled high in a heap,

until the contents of the bags spilled on top of the two men.

Elbert: There’s an eyewitness... we have to go after them.

Alfons: Do you really have the luxury to say that when we’re in this state?

The two of them were buried in so much spice from the waist down, it was hard to laugh it off as any joke.

And Alfons let out a sigh as though he were fed up.

Alfons: This is William and Harry we’re talking about?

A: They won’t let a single one go alive, so it should be fine.

A: Anyhow, more importantly, I can’t help but feel an inkling that I’ve run into this smell before—

Elbert: ...! Al, over there, there are cats.

They had probably been hiding somewhere in the warehouse, but some stray cats had shown themselves, gathering around them.

Alfons: Ah, yes, I remember that spice’s scent now.

Elbert: ...?

Alfons: It’s cat powder.

While they were having an out-of-tune conversation, the two became surrounded by cats.

Alfons: Come now, don’t cozy up on your own quite yet. Why don’t you help us out?

A: I hope you know the reason you guys can indulge yourselves in cat powder is because of us?

A cat drew closer to Alfons as he petted it around its neck.

The cat purred in response, snuggling its body up to his palm.

Elbert: ...Hehe.

Alfons: Whatever is the matter, suddenly laughing like that? Don’t tell me you are on a cat powder high as well?

Elbert: It’s not that. It’s just... I was remembering how you dote on cats, even when you act more like one than the cats themselves.

Alfons: I’m afraid you have me ever so slightly lost with that train of thought...

Elbert: I mean, when I think you saved that cat who had trouble getting down,

E: you would push it away when it got too close.

E: And when I think you have petted it... you pretend you don’t know them...

E: And when they’re going through a hard time, you are there by their side... but then, when they’re not going through such times, you try your best to distance yourself.

Alfons: ...You are quite an observant one, aren’t you. So? Would you mind telling me why you look so happy then?

Elbert: Because... I think that side of you is wonderful, Al.

Alfons: ......Is this your attempt to woo me?

Elbert: ...? No, I didn’t mean to woo you.

Alfons: Yes, I knew that from the start, so please don’t take my words so earnestly.

A: ...Elbie, how would you like to play a little game with me?

Elbert: Game...?

Alfons pulled out a coin from his pocket, flipping it in the air with his finger.

Then, when the coin fell atop the back of his hand, he covered it with the other.

Elbert: I guess, I’ll bet tails then.

Alfons: And that leaves me with heads.

A: If it is tails, as you say, then I win. Otherwise, it’s yours.

Elbert: So, the one who guessed wrong wins... somehow, it feels like it should be the opposite.

Alfons: Well, you can think of it as playing with a ‘mirror’ that is myself. And so, that which is incorrect becomes the correct choice, and conversely, the correct choice becomes incorrect.

Elbert: What will you do if you win?

Alfons: Let’s see now...

A: I suppose, if I win, I will go on a journey to the edge of the world.

On the back of Alfons’ hand, the coin——showed heads.

Alfons: And once again, it is my loss.

A: Truly, when it comes to making the wrong choices, there is no one who can hold a candle to you.

A: ...I realize this is sorely belated, but is it alright if I ask you one question?

Elbert: ...What is it?

Alfons: The day we first met, when I suddenly appeared before you, what made you want to take me into the manor?

Elbert: ......

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