#the ones where he's in his regular outfit were either before i realized i could change his outfit

[todayisafridaynight]

can you please post more caps of hijikata. i need to see more of him for my health

ALWAYS happy to provide more caps of my mans anon and if you ever want more i have a whole google drive folder dedicated to just caps of him :)

[kleftiko]

❦ ANGEL

cw: mature, inexperienced!hawks (love this shit), reader is a stripper

PART 2 | MASTERLIST

“so… you’re a regular here?” hawks noted with forced amusement. he was trying his best to be casual, not look at the girls too long, keep a nonchalant face, but keigo had never been to a strip club before.

“it’s on my patrol route, so the girls know me.” present mic waved to bartender, who sent him a kiss back.

“and we’re here because…”

“its your birthday.” hizashi stated, taking a seat in front of the stage. hawks followed suit, shifting around a bit in an attempt to get comfortable. “it was either i bring you here, or midnight.”

it only took a split second for hawks to appreciate her not being there.

“point taken.” he mumbled as a waitress placed a drink in front of him. he smiled at her in appreciation for a moment before looking back at mic. his companion opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by an enthusiastic—“hizashi!”

keigo’s attention immediately darted to the girl making her way towards them. a shiver went down his spine. her smile was carefree, eyes only focused on the two of them as she maneuvered through the crowd. her small outfit was followed by small, white wings attached to her bra—like an angel—and her exposed skin was dusted in a silvery glitter.

hizashi stood up to greet her, placing a kiss on her cheek as she hugged him. he sat back down and motioned to keigo.

“look who i brought!” he told her. keigo’s breath caught in his throat as she looked at him.

“the number 2 hero!” she greeted him. “haven’t seen you here before. this your first time?”

“its his birthday.” hizashi took a sip of his drink.

“happy birthday!” she clapped her hands together with a grin before she turned back to mic, “the girls are in the back if you wanna say hi.”

hizashi excused himself, and left hawks alone with the angel. she seemed much more relaxed than he was as she focused her attention on him. and he realized he hadn’t spoken a word to her yet.

“is it messy?” he asked.

she gave him a confused look. he lifted his hand to motion at his chest, unable to speak, for some reason.

she looked down at her own boobs. “oh! the glitter? yea—its body glitter, so not as messy as regular, but it keeps the married men away from me.”

she giggled slightly and hawks couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. her hand came out slightly to touch his wings and he almost moaned. “you’re not married, are you?”

he shook his head quickly. she smiled softly.

“wonderful.” she retracted her hand and moved to leave. “im gonna go on stage soon, i hope you enjoy my dance.”

“good luck.” he squeaked, and she sent him a wink over her shoulder.

hizashi didn’t come back in time for the angel’s dance.

but that was fine with him. the only thing hawks could see was her. the music faded out, the people dissipated, and there was only her and her dancing. the spell she put him under didn’t leave when she was finished. it took a couple minutes for keigo to come back down to earth, and realize that he was uncomfortably hard in his jeans. he tried shifting inconspicuously, but no one was paying attention anyway, and his eyes caught sight of the angel walking back over. his hands left his crotch instantly.

“hey again.” she smiled. “hizashi paid for a lap dance for the birthday boy before my shift is over.”

“you’re leaving?” keigo asked.

“well, i have to go home at some point.” she held out her hand to him. he took it without hesitation as she began to lead him through the floor. they came to the private rooms, passed where the lap dances were happening in the little cubicles, and hawks became a bit suspicious.

“why are we here?” he asked her as she closed the door behind them. the music became muffled, the lighting in the room made the glitter on her body shimmer.

“your wings are a bit big for out there.” she told him, stalking around him like a predator. her fingers came back to his feathers as another shiver took over him. “and you looked uncomfortable on the floor.”

“that obvious?” he submitted when she pushed him to sit down on the bench.

she giggled a bit and nodded with her hands on his shoulders. he blushed.

“you look like you’re gonna explode.” her eyes flickered down to his pants for a second, and keigo felt his dick twitch a bit. “you sure you want a lap dance?”

“please.” his hands moved to her hips on instinct, but upon feeling her hot skin, he retreated quickly, not wanting to over step boundaries.

her hands left his shoulders and grasped his, bringing them back to her hips. he looked up at her to make sure it was alright and she nodded.

“its okay,” she said. “you’ll be gentle.”

[may-russell]

Just the two of us… 🎶☕️

You work at a coffee shop and once Hamzah notices you, he becomes a regular.

Word count: 2875 (sorry if it's too long)

!hamzah x fem reader.

!slowburn?

Part 2/3:

As Hamzah was walking towards his car, he kept reliving that last moment between you two, the ambiance in the coffee shop, how you looked, your smile, how you waved at him goodbye, maybe it wasn’t that deep and he was just romanticizing that last interaction. Either way, the chances of something like that happening again were low, he might as well forget about it.

He got into his car, and as he turned it on the radio went off, "Good evening, Toronto! I'm Stevie, your host for tonight, and you're tuned in to Jazz.fm. Get ready to unwind with a timeless favorite, 'Just The Two Of Us' by the one and only Grover Washington Jr. Sit back, relax, and let the music take you on a journey through the night." And just like that he was thinking of excuses to go back and talk to you. –I could pretend I forgot something…  but maybe she’s already gone… I could go back tomorrow and be like ‘Oh I just LOVEEE the coffee here’… hundreds of people go there everyday she won’t even remember me… Why am I even thinking this much about her? She’s just a barista. I don’t even know her. Fuck. I want to know her. This seems like something I should journal about- The drive back home was short, it’s surprising how time works when you’re hyperfocused on something, he was in that coffee shop all afternoon, and even after it closed, but it still wasn’t enough.

Once he was finally home he started to unpack his backpack… “Shit, I did actually forget something. Guess I’m going back tomorrow”.

Next morning

MONDAY

It’s 8:45 am, Hamzah is getting out of the shower and is starting to get ready for the day. He checks his phone and, according to google, the café is about to open, he’s already changed his outfit twice, and ended up settling on a purple hoodie, jeans and a gray hat, something casual whilst still trying to look nice, he even put on cologne. His plan is to run some errands, swing by the coffee shop to retrieve his notebook, and who knows, maybe run into the cute girl he hasn’t stopped thinking about. Oh, and, since he’s already in the area, he’s also meeting Martin for lunch downtown after that.

Once he finishes having breakfast, Hamzah checks his appearance one last time in the mirror, adjusting the tilt of his hat and smoothing down the sleeves of his hoodie. He feels a nervous excitement bubbling inside him as he heads out the door.

As he runs his errands  throughout the morning, his mind keeps drifting back to the coffee shop and the barista. He finds himself taking longer than usual at each stop, mentally rehearsing what he might say if he sees her again. At the hardware store, he absentmindedly compares different shades of paint for his new apartment, thinking about whether she would prefer a cozy warm tone or something brighter.

While picking up groceries, he debates whether to buy something special from the bakery section of the supermarket, just in case he gets the chance to share it with her. Each item he picks up reminds him of their brief encounter—the smell of fresh-baked bread brings back memories of the coffee shop, and he can almost taste the cappuccino and chocolate donut he had the day before.

By the time he finishes his errands, he realizes it's almost time to swing by the coffee shop. He checks his phone nervously, wondering if she'll be there today. His heart races with anticipation as he imagines walking in and seeing her smile again.

He gets on his car and drives, as he reaches the familiar corner where the coffee shop stands, he notices a few early risers already seated outside, sipping their morning brew. Hamzah's heart skips a beat as he pushes open the door, the soft jingle announcing his arrival.

Inside, the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee envelops him, mingling with the soft chatter of other customers. Hamzah spots the counter where he had talked to the barista yesterday, but to his disappointment, she's not there. He tries to hide his frown, reminding himself that she might be in the back or arriving later.

Approaching the counter, He asks the barista on duty about his lost notebook. The young woman, not the one he hoped to see, smiles politely and checks behind the counter. After a brief search, she returns empty-handed, apologizing that she doesn't see any notebooks left behind. Just as Hamzah was turning around to leave, relief washed over him as Ethan, the familiar barista from the previous evening, entered the frame holding his black hardcover notebook. "Wait. Is this your notebook?" Ethan asked, handing it over. "The barista working last night told me you might come back for it."

Hamzah's face lit up again. "Thanks! Is she around? I'd like to thank her."

Ethan's expression shifted slightly. "No, she's not here today, but I'll pass on the message that you got it back."

Hamzah pressed further, his eagerness evident. "Do you know when she'll be here? Maybe tomorrow?"

Ethan hesitated, sensing Hamzah's persistence. "She's not coming tomorrow either."

"Well, when is she working next?" Hamzah asked, oblivious to Ethan's growing discomfort.

"Look man," Ethan began, trying to keep his tone friendly yet firm, "I can't give out that information. I'm sure you mean well, but I can't help you."

Hamzah finally caught on, feeling embarrassed. "Sorry, I just... I had a nice chat with her last night, and I forgot to ask for her name. I didn't mean to be weird or anything."

Ethan nodded understandingly. "I get it, but you'll have to swing by some other time if you want to see her again."

"Thanks, and sorry again," Hamzah said, realizing he had crossed a boundary. With a nod of farewell, he left the coffee shop, feeling disappointed yet understanding of Ethan's position.

After leaving the coffee shop, Hamzah made his way downtown to meet Martin for lunch. As he walked through the bustling streets of Toronto, his mind wandered back to his brief visit to the coffee shop and the disappointment of not seeing the barista again. He replayed the conversation with Ethan in his head, wondering when he might have another opportunity to return.

Arriving at their favorite lunch spot, Hamzah spotted Martin already seated at a corner table, waving enthusiastically as he approached. The restaurant buzzed with the hum of conversations and clinking of cutlery, creating a lively atmosphere that contrasted with the quiet of the coffee shop.

"Hey man, you made it!" Martin greeted him with a grin, gesturing for Hamzah to take a seat. "What's up? You seem a bit distracted."

Hamzah slid into the chair opposite Martin, trying to shake off his thoughts about the barista. "Yeah, just had a morning errand to run," he replied vaguely, not wanting to burden Martin with his romantic musings just yet.

Martin raised an eyebrow teasingly. "Morning errand, huh? Anything exciting happen?"

Hamzah chuckled nervously, deciding to share a toned-down version of his coffee shop visit. "Not really, just went to pick up something I left behind yesterday."

Martin leaned in curiously. "Oh? What did you forget?"

"My notebook," Hamzah explained briefly. "I left it at this new coffee shop I checked out yesterday. The barista there... she was really nice."

Martin's eyes lit up with interest. "Ah, I see where this is going. Did you get her number?"

Hamzah sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Nah, I didn't even get her name. And when I went back today, she wasn't there."

Martin frowned sympathetically. "Bummer, man. But hey, maybe it's fate. You'll probably run into her again."

"Yeah, maybe," Hamzah agreed half-heartedly. "Anyway, how's your day been so far?"

The conversation drifted to lighter topics as they ordered their lunch and caught up on each other's lives. Martin shared updates about his work projects, and Hamzah talked about his plans for the podcast and the ongoing move. Despite his disappointment from earlier, being with Martin helped to lighten his mood.

As they finished their meal and paid the bill, Hamzah felt a renewed sense of determination. He knew he would visit the coffee shop again, notebook or no notebook, in the hope of seeing the barista once more. Maybe next time, he thought to himself, he would remember to ask for her name.

Your Pov:

MONDAY

It’s 6:00 in the morning, you’ve just woken up, you’re mustering up the strenght to get out of bed and start getting ready for work. You play your favorite playlist and get dressed, still tired from getting home later than usual last night, but hanging around that cute guy made it a bit worth it. As you make breakfast, you hear a familiar tune

-I see the crystal raindrops fall And the beauty of it all Is when the sun comes shining through To make those rainbows in my mind When I think of you sometime And I wanna spend some time with you-

Suddendly you’re dancing around your kitchen, having one of those “Ah, this is the life” moments, realizing it would be much more exciting if there was someone dancing and singing next to you, but you can’t let those thoughts haunt you for long, the day has just begun. You check yourself in the mirror before heading out the door, you get in your car and it makes that same weird sound it’s been making for the past week, “Mhm, I’m sure it’s nothing” you say, brushing it off, and off you go.

At around 11 am you get a text from Ethan, “Hey, the guy from last night came by to pick up his notebook. He kept asking about you”. “What did he say?” You texted back.

“Not much, he wanted to know your name, and was pretty insistent on when he could see you again to “thank you”  👀 a bit weird”.

“Ohhh u should’ve told him, he was cute lol”

“haha I’m sure he’ll come back”.

You put your phone down and continued doing your work, you thought thinking about him throughout the day was too much, but it seemed like his interest was more than a simple “thank you”. Like there was some unfinished busssiness between the both of you.  As you went about your tasks, the memory of his earnest inquiries lingered in the back of your mind. You couldn't help but wonder what he was like beyond that brief interaction—what his name was, what he did when he wasn't at the coffee shop, and why he seemed so eager to see you again.

Despite trying to push the thoughts aside, you found yourself checking your phone a little too often, half-expecting another message from Ethan with an update. Each time, you told yourself to focus on your work, but the anticipation was undeniable.

As the day progressed, you couldn't shake the feeling that his visit had left a mark. It wasn't just about retrieving a forgotten notebook anymore; there seemed to be an unspoken connection, a curiosity that went beyond politeness. Maybe he would come back, you mused, imagining the possibility of seeing him again. You’ve never been more excited to clock in at work on a weekend.

WEDNESDAY

It’s been three days since your last (and only) encounter. Hamzah is out for a run, “Bags” by Clairo’s playing on his AirPods—‘Can you see me? I’m waiting for the right time. I can’t read you but if you want the pleasure is all mine’—he hums along, remembering a clip of a genius interview where Clairo explained the meaning behind the song, how when you have a crush on someone, every minute you’re not spending with them feels like a waste of time, and, inevitably, he was thinking about you again.

This whole infatuation feels a bit ridiculous to Hamzah, but no one had taken his interest like that before, plus he had already embarrassed himself to you coworker, he was already in too deep to not see where going down this road would lead him. He felt an unexplainable attraction towards a complete stranger, like there was a rope in his chest pulling him to you, to that coffee shop, and before he realized it, he was there again, it was like he was running on autopilot and his subconcsious had taken him there, I mean, he was planning on paying a visit today, but not now; he hadn’t thought about what he would say if you we’re there, but he couldn’t stop himself from walking in.

He approached the counter, skimming through the menu, his order was still as basic as before, but this time he got an oatmeal and green apple cookie instead of a chocolate donut. “Is this to go? Or to eat here?” The cashier asked as he turned his head to face him “Hey! It’s you again”.

“Heeeyyy, I’m back” Hamzah  shyly replied, “Umm, to go, please”.  

“Yeah, I figured. She’s not here btw, but she said you were good, come back on Saturday”.

Hamzah’s eyes widen, a smile creeping into his lips, he tries to play it cool but the excitement in his voice was evident. “She said that? She’ll be here?”.

“Yeah haha, here you go” Ethan replied with a smile.

“Thanks! Guess I’ll see you in a few days, um… Ethan,” He said pointing to the nametag hanging on the cashier’s black apron, “I’m Hamzah” He continued, reaching out for  handshake.

“Yeah, see you.” Ethan says, shaking his hand back.

Hamzah left the coffee shop with a newfound sense of anticipation for Saturday. The thought of seeing you again lingered in his mind as he drove home. He couldn’t help but replay the brief interactions and your smile, which seemed to brighten the entire coffee shop.

As the week progressed, Hamzah found himself constantly thinking about Saturday. He went about his usual routines, working on his podcast episodes, filming with Martin and settling into his new apartment, but your image kept creeping into his thoughts. He wondered what Saturday would bring—would you remember him? Would you be as friendly and approachable as before?

Saturday finally arrived...

and Hamzah found himself standing outside the coffee shop, trying to calm his nerves. He wore a casual outfit, hoping to strike the right balance between laid-back and presentable. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The familiar aroma of coffee greeted him, mingling with the soft hum of conversations. Ethan was behind the counter again, and as soon as he spotted Hamzah, he grinned knowingly. Hamzah approached with a hesitant smile.

"Hey, Ethan! Is she here today?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Ethan chuckled. "Yeah, she's around. Just a sec."

Hamzah's heart raced as Ethan disappeared into the back. He glanced around the coffee shop, spotting you arranging cups on a nearby shelf. You looked up, and for a moment, your eyes met. A smile tugged at your lips as recognition sparked between you.

Hamzah felt a rush of relief and excitement. When Ethan returned, he gestured towards you. "Hey, she'll be with you in a moment."

Sure enough, you approached the counter with a warm smile. "Hey! You’re back. Heard you’ve been asking about me," you greeted him.

"Yeah, couldn't resist coming back," Hamzah replied with a sheepish grin. "I wanted to thank you properly for last time."

You chuckled softly. "No problem at all. What were you working on that day? You seemed pretty focused."

"Oh, just some podcast stuff and a bit of writing," Hamzah explained, feeling more at ease now that he was talking to you again.

"That's cool," you said, nodding. "Well, I'm glad you came back. Can I get you anything today?"

Hamzah glanced at the menu, though he had already decided on something basic. "Just a cappuccino and... another chocolate donut, please."

You nodded, punching in his order. As you prepared it, the conversation flowed easily between you. Hamzah learned a bit more about you—your interests, your love for books and jazz music, and your favorite places in Toronto. He shared some details about his work and recent move, finding common ground in unexpected places.

When you handed him his order, Hamzah hesitated for a moment. "Hey, I know this might be forward, but would you like to grab coffee or something sometime? Outside of this coffee shop, I mean," he asked, hoping he wasn't coming on too strong.

Your smile widened, and you glanced at Ethan who was discreetly giving you an encouraging nod. "I'd like that," you replied. "Here, let me give you my number."

Hamzah's heart leaped with joy as he took your phone and entered his number. "Great, I'll text you so you have mine too," he said, handing your phone back to you.

As Hamzah left the coffee shop that day, he couldn't stop smiling. He had come back hoping to see you again, and now he had plans to meet up outside of work. It felt like the beginning of something exciting, and he couldn't wait to see where it would lead.

hope u like it! Part 3

@1800-love-me

[thelostboys11]

Hey! (Don't know if your requests are open but if they are) Could you do a poly lost boys x male Cheshire cat reader? (Who has a variety of powers and is stronger than them) I just wonder how they would all interact/react

If not that's ok.

Thanks!

The Lost Boys x Male Cheshire Cat Reader

A/n: I'm basing this off of the live action version of Alice in Wonderland. I hope you don't mind. And I'm sorry I took so long to post this.

Warnings: None (I don't think).

Word count: 657

Since you're Cheshire Cat, you have many abilities, you're also able to visit the human world.

You are also able to transform into a human form.

Well you have to human forms. One of them looking like a regular human and the other with the outfit you would most likely wear in Wonderland and with ears and tail.

One of your favorite places to visit in the human world is Santa Carla, California.

You would come and go because you would have business in Wonderland every once in a while. But in your free time you would usually go to the boardwalk in Santa Carla.

While visiting Santa Carla's boardwalk one night, you came across the boys. I mean how could you not, they're impossible not to notice.

You looked different from most people on the boardwalk and so the boys eventually took notice to you.

All of you started to hang out more and more and during this time, you all started to get closer.

You managed to figure out that they were vampires without them ever telling you or hinting it to you. You're smarter than they think.

But they surprisingly hadn't figured out what you were. They did think that some of your behavior was strange but they just thought it was part of your personality and didn't think much more of it.

Wonderland started to need you more and more than it normally did so you would either have to sneak out of the cave or make up an excuse to leave early without becoming suspicious.

Eventually one night you had to leave early on a night the boys had planned with you.

Since you had to leave early and the boys didn't have anything else to do now, they decided to secretly follow you.

One of your powers allows you to create a portal back to Wonderland and it doesn't matter where you are, you'll still end up back into Wonderland.

As the portal opened, the boys looked on in awe. They hadn't seen anything like that before. They knew other mystical creatures were out there but had no idea what kind of creature could create portals.

They watched you walk into the portal and a few seconds later, they followed in behind you.

Once they had walked in behind you, the portal closed.

You hadn't noticed they followed into the portal behind you, so you continued to do what you normally would do. You then turned into your Cheshire Cat form.

The boys were clearly shocked at what the saw you turn into. They were honestly amazed by it.

Paul then excitedly ran up to and hugged you tightly. Once he got his hands on you, he started to feel how fluffy you were.

In shock and a bit of panic, you disappeared into thin air and reappeared in a different spot.

Once you realized it was just Paul, you let out a sigh of relief.

You then got onto him and the boys for scaring you like that and for also following you into the portal.

For the rest of the time you spend in Wonderland, the boys follow you around the whole time. Paul and Marko would be asking questions the whole entire time. Dwayne would want to pet you. David would probably be protective over you every time you talk to or encounter someone in Wonderland.

After getting back out of Wonderland, the boys would want to see you in your cat form more often.

Once they find out you have a human form that has cat ears and a cat tail, they want you to be in that form almost all of the time you spend with them in the cave.

Everyone would become more cuddly with you but David wouldn't want to admit it even if it's very true.

They would love it if they were able to make you purr, which honestly isn't too difficult.

A/n: That's all I have for now. Let me know if you want more!

[eternalfae]

When You're Gone (pt 1 of ??)

It’s been months since you’ve seen Andrew. You two used to spend every weekend together. More than that, really; any moment you could you guys could be together you were. It started with him being a regular at your coffee shop, and then inviting you to sit and chat with him on your breaks. You ended up quitting the coffee shop and slipped him your phone number on his last receipt from your last day. He ended up showing you the music he’d been working on that day after you clocked out. You knew he was always writing something in his notebook at the little corner table, but you never realized that it was music.

He was a man of few words typically, mysterious in nature, and you couldn’t help but be mesmerized just watching him write. His long fingers wrapped around his pen while his other hand was either splayed across the book holding it open or being run through his hair to push it out of his face; you could watch him for hours. You asked if there was some way you could see him play, and he let you know that he plays at a local pub every Friday. So your meetings moved there.

The first time you were going to watch him at the pub, you anxiously waited all week long. You spent an hour trying on different outfits in the mirror and mentally flicked yourself for it. This wasn’t anything special. You’re just going to some dingy bar to see the most attractive man you’ve ever met play his music. Finally, you figured it was an appropriate time to go over. You waited outside for your taxi, checking your phone over and over to make sure you had the address correct. Once you got to the pub, you lingered outside for just a moment before taking a deep breath and going in. You found a nice table in the corner, just like he always did, and waited with your drink.

You people-watched from your seat while you waited until you heard a little bit of commotion. Finally looking up, the dim lighting of the pub cast a shadow over Andrews's face. His tall frame towered over you from the stage, and you took a sip of your drink to make sure you weren’t staring. When you looked back up, he was looking right at you and gave a small smile. You ordered 3 more drinks through his set and, afterward, he came and sat with you. You guys caught up on your events for the week and chatted about the musician who was on after him.

“Your music is really beautiful,” you told him earnestly. You looked him in the eyes for the first time in a while and he had a thoughtful look on his face as he swished his drink around.

“It’s not where I want it to be yet, but thank you.” He was too humble. Every word he sang was like a hymn and you had soaked it up eagerly. You were left wanting more, but you couldn’t tell him that.

“How long have you been playing?” You leaned back in your chair.

He contemplated your question for a moment before finally answering, “I started when I was fifteen. Self-taught.” He looked a little proud of himself when he saw your shocked face.

You quickly recomposed yourself and finished your drink off in one gulp, wincing slightly at the taste. “You got more stuff?” Your question broke the silence between you two and he returned his eyes to yours.

“Aye, I might. Nothing properly finished, though. I’ll show you sometime if you want.” His hands went to his sleeve as he rolled it up his arms a bit, and it took everything in you to not watch his every movement.

You bounced your knee a bit absentmindedly on the floor and nodded. “I think you’re really good.”

After that night, you two continued to spend more and more time together. You listened to his music and helped him brainstorm lyrics every Friday night in that dim pub. Eventually, you started spending more than just Fridays together, and you introduced him to your passion: photography. He became your muse. A joke at first that became serious as you were constantly using him as your subject. His curly hair and angular face always showed up in one way or another. You hadn’t had a friend like this in a long time, someone you could confide in and someone to give you advice when you needed it.

His talent got in the way, though, when he left. After months of spending every other day together, he got a deal with a record label. He insisted that he needed to get out of your town in order to focus on writing, spending time by the ocean secluded in some house. You couldn’t ask him to stay, though, you weren’t anything special to him. You just had to hug him and say how happy you were for him. At first, you messaged each other all throughout the day while you both worked, but his responses came slower as time passed and you ended up barely speaking. You had no idea when he’d be back, as he’d need to record once he was done actually preparing his music. His music that you had spent countless nights up with him listening to.

You didn’t realize how awful you’d feel when he left, but it hit you like a truck after two weeks. Your routine was in shambles, and you were turning toward anything to distract you. Your solace came one day finally when your phone buzzed while you were at work. You looked down at it, his name popping up and your face lighting up immediately. You answered the phone, thanking the gods that there were no customers around, and felt yourself grinning like a fool.

“Andrew, what’s up?”

The other line was a bit muffled but you could hear him say your name. You hadn’t heard his voice in so long, you wondered if he sounded different at all.

“I’m back in town.” You felt like a cartoon character when their jaw dropped to the floor, but kept your composure.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” You glanced at the clock and could have cried when you realized you had less than two hours left of your shift.

You could hear the smile in his voice when he responded, “It was supposed to be a surprise, but you aren’t at your flat.”

“Some of us have real jobs, Andrew,” you teased, “I’ll be free in a couple of hours, though.”

He sighed dramatically and was quiet for a moment, contemplating. “Fine. But you owe me a pint.”

You rolled your eyes even though you knew he couldn’t see you. You weren’t the one who left for months and has been completely MIA for a week. “Sure. I’ll be home at six. You know where the spare key is.”

“Of course I do, I’m already inside. You really should clean some of these dishes.”

“You do them if they bug you that much. I’ll see you in a bit, I’ve got to get back to work.” Right as you said that, you heard the bell of the door ring to signal a customer. You both quickly said your goodbyes and you put your best customer service face on. These would be the longest two hours of your life.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

On thin ice (Hockey player! Miguel O’Hara x Figure skater! Fem! Reader)

A/N: Not me already have written this part the day after I posted the first one 🤭. I wanna add titles to the chapters but idk what I’d have them be, probably lyrics from songs I like lol. Once again, apologies now for If Miguel is ooc and if the terminology and sports talk is wrong. If you’re experienced in either sport and wanted to lmk if I got something wrong. If you want to be added to the taglist lmk too.

(Y/N)- Your name, (L/N)- Last name.

No warnings, Just Miguel and you interacting lol. Idk if this is consider filler but it’s meant to get the ball rolling lol.

Word count: 1.3k

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2: Do you ever get that fear that you can’t shift the tide,

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It’s been about a week since you’ve last ran into Miguel at the arena, surprisingly the figure skating team don’t run into the hockey team as much as you would think despite having to share a communal space on campus. Unfortunately, today was one of those days were you did run into them. You’ve arrived about 45 minutes early to practice, Logan nor coach Kavinsky were here yet. You were hoping to get some alone time on the ice before practice, but it had slipped your mind that today was Thursday, and on Thursdays the hockey team practiced before you rather then after like the rest of the week. As you dropped your gym back on the bench in the girl’s locker room, you were debating to whether you wanted to just wait at the arena till they were done, or walk back to your dorm. The only problem with the latter option is that the dorm buildings were all the way across campus, and by the time you finished the walk you’d have to turn around to walk back anyways.

So you stuck it up, and changed into your practice outfit, your skates in hand as you leave the locker room, deciding to keep your regular shoes on so you could at least get your stretching out of the way before your coach and partner came. You quickly went into one of the empty dance rooms that the arena had to do warm up stretches in, popping in your headphones to listen to your favorite song. After about 15 minutes you still had plenty of time before The Spiders got off the ice, you decided to just walk around the stadium. No destination in mind, just where ever your feet decided to carry you as your music continue to play in your ears. You can’t really say you were surprised to find yourself ending up in the main area with the ice rink, plopping yourself down in one of the front row seats as you let your brain go on autopilot.

You were too busy being lost in the music, you didn’t realize you were staring into space until you say a large tan hand appear in front of your face and began to snap its fingers, pulling you back into the moment.

“hellooo? Earth to ice princess.”

“Huh?” You shot up to sit straighter, blinking a bit as you take out your headphones, turning your head to look at the person who had just snapped you back into reality. “Look I know I’m attractive and all, but you don’t have to stare-“ Miguel begins, a cocky smirk on his face that you just wanted to smack off. One of his large hands going up to take off this helmet, his dark brown hair that was usually slicked back was now messy from the helmet, a thin coat of sweat covering his forehead. You cut him off, “ew, why would I be staring at you?” You question, your face slightly scrunched in distaste at the thought.

“You’ve been looking in my direction at the past 20 minutes.” He smirks as his teammates start to put away all their hockey equipment behind him, not paying attention to you both talk. You gave him a confused look before you realize why he might have been thinking that, “Oooooh-no-no I was just zoning out, I wasn’t staring at you on purpose.” You quickly explain, awkwardly scratching the back of your neck with your gloved hand, attempting to keep eye contact with the hockey player.

For a second, it looked like Miguel’s cocky exterior faltered, before coming back up. “Uh huh…sure.” He tone dripping with sarcasm as he drops his helmet onto a seat, then taking a seat next to you. His action caught you by surprise but you didn’t let it show, you also didn’t want to show the annoyance that filled your body from the taunting comment. “Why are you even here this early? Where is your little boyfriend?” He asked as turns his body towards you, resting the hand closest to you on his knee, his forearm that was further from you going to rest on his other knee. He was manspreading a bit, his eyes raking over your form slowly.

“Jesus why is it so warm in here all of a sudden? Usually I’m freezing my nonexistent balls off…” You thought as you shifted in your seat a bit, feeling the need to distract yourself, you start to change into your skates. “I wanted to get some time on the ice alone before practice but I forgot it was Thursday and- wait. Boyfriend?”

Miguel chuckled at your surprised reaction, turning his head away slightly, the hand that was resting on his knee came up to cover the smile that was creeping up on his face from your reaction. After a second or two he cleared his throat, his hand dropping back down to his knee as he turns to face you again with a neutral expression. “Yeah, your boyfriend, the one you skate with. What’s his name again? Lincoln? Liam?” Miguel knew his name, he just wanted to see if you’d correct him.

“Logan?”

Miguel tried his best not to scowl.

“Yeah, Logan-whatever-where’s he at?” He asked, he’s words come out annoyed and a bit rushed. “Well for one, he’s not my boyfriend, just my figure skating partner.” You start as you tilted your head to the side as you look at him, saying it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Now Miguel is trying his hardest not to let a huge shit eating grin spread across his lips. “And second, he’s probably on his way, he had a class today before practice-some science thing- I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders as you finish speaking.

Speaking of the devil, Logan and Coach Kavinsky appear through the front double door. “Ah! (Y/N), already here. Perfect! Let’s get straight into it.” She said with a smile as she seemingly ignore Miguel’s presence next to you, Logan stops next to you as you both took the guards off your skates, him shooting you a knowing look, his lips twitching up into small smirk as his eyes drift between you and Miguel. “I swear to God…if he brings this up later…” You start to think but a voice cut you off.

“Hey Cap!” One of the hockey players called out for Miguel’s attention, “We just finished packing up, you coming?” He asked as he skate to the edge of the rink, before getting out, a few of the other lingering players that were making sure all the equipment was all packed up doing the same. As soon as the other player was done speak to Miguel, he took off his helmet revealing (messy from the helmet and some sweat) light brown hair and brown eyes, his lower half of his face covered with a 5 o’ clock shadow and you noticed his nose was slightly croaked, probably him having broken it from a past game.

Miguel let out a heavy sigh, before turning towards the other player. “Yeah Parker, I’m going.” He grumbled as he brought his hand up to rub his face before giving you one more quick glance and getting up, leaving with the rest of who was left from his team, without another word. For some reason, that bothered you, causing your brows furrowed as your lips fall into a small frown.

“Rude…” you mumbled as you got up from your seat, Logan heard this and let out a small snort as he steps on to the ice. “Don’t overthink it (L/N), that’s just how he is.” Your partner tried to reassure you, you send him a small smile back and a quick nod of your head.

“Yeah, you’re right. I shouldn’t overthink it.” You repeat his words, as you went to enter the rink as well, but it was a bit too late for that, because you already were overthink it.

—

Taglist: @tayleighuh

[instexcamera]

The Beginning

Cyberpunk!AU HiMERU x Fem!Reader

Warnings: vaginal sex, fingering, over stimulation, vanilla sex, kinda gentle sex, crying, soft dom HiMERU(sorta), unprotected sex

A/N: This is my longest fic yet! I've spent around 7 hours working on this over the course of three days I think? This based on a cyberpunk AU I came up with randomly one day and I was thinking of turning it into a series, and this would be the first part, hence the name, I'm so smart when naming things. I would also like to add reader uses GN pronouns and the smut doesn't start till the end, everything before that is explaining the AU and how you got in the position you're in.

Word Count: 6.4k

18+ under cut

Flattening yourself against the wall of the building, listening intently to see if any conversation could be heard. When none was, your body relaxes automatically, before tensing back up. Just because no sound could be heard didn't mean no one was there. Hunters and cyber psychos weren't idiotic enough to go around blundering, announcing their presence at every turn.

No, they'd be lying in wait, waiting for prey to come stupidly along for them to sweep up. Yet, none of them should care if they notice you, you're just a regular civilian. Well, a civilian who’s trying to sneak into a convenience store and steal snacks. You had thought rationing would have kept your stocks up for at least two more days, but it seemed your calculations were off. Which is why you were out like that idiotic prey, just waiting to be snatched up.

You could have waited until morning, the cyber psychos were barely out then, same with the hunters. Yet your hunger couldn't be held off, you needed something, just a pack of cookies and soda would work until daylight. So here you were, running across the neon lit street to the closest convenience store you could find. Once reaching the place, yanking open the door, immediately putting on a calm manner as you walk in. The cashier doesn't look up at you, in fact he barely acknowledges your existence, too focused on the magazine he's pushed up in his face.

The magazine had a blonde haired woman in some suggestive outfit winking on the cover, rolling your eyes and ignoring him. This type of stuff wasn't uncommon now with how the city was. Years ago technology reached an all time high. AI was booming, microchips could be implemented in your brain, and, of course, high tech weapons were made. It didn't take long for a corporation, the Tenshouin Empire, to use those weapons and take control of the government. They used their new found power to create a type of metropolis. Demolishing smaller apartments and offices to create huge buildings, reaching high in the sky. Of course everywhere outside the metropolis fell into poverty from this.

Except a year later the Tenshouin Empire realized the place outside was poor and destroyed most of the buildings, replacing them with bigger and better ones at least. You lived in one now, the apartment wasn't bad if you were being honest, the view was breathtaking, especially at night. The city was neon, TV screens mounted on the tops of buildings lighting everything up. You loved it, that was one of the only great things that came from this new era.

The inside of your apartment was big, holding a living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. A floor to ceiling window spanned the length of the living room and that's where you spent most of your time. The rent's cheap which is a bonus, high tech things were cheap nowadays, another benefit of the era. But of course cheap rent and a beautiful view didn't take away from the fact you lived in a poverty stricken area. Junkies would line the streets, sex addicts would too, either fucking someone they found or in a vr world, playing some C rated porn game.

Your neighbor's weren't the best either, thin walls allowed you to hear when people screamed from some illegal acts or the creaking of beds when they were doing something else. Which was quite often, but you could block out the noise, with your own games. Vr is a savior in this world. Flashing back to reality when you held both things you had come for in your hands, swiping some candy too. You stand by the exit to the convenience store, waiting to see if the cashier would look up from what he was doing. You couldn't even see his face, only hearing pants coming from him and deciding you could just walk out, no consequences would come of it.

As you walk out of the little store, stepping back into the night, you wonder why this store had not been destroyed. Most of them this small had been, and it amazed you how it had managed to survive. You think about the luck you had had, either because the cashier was too engrossed in the magazine, or simply because he didn't care. Even if he had come after you, you could've outran him, not the first time you've done something like that. Stealing is how you make a living after all, going onto trains or sneaking into the metropolis and pickpocketing anyone you could. You used the money to pay your apartments rent and the rest to buy games or whatever else you wanted.

You had been surprisingly lucky tonight much to your relief, making it to the store and now back to your apartment, with candy too. As you thought that the building you were walking beside shook and blew up. There was no warning, no telling who did it, all you knew was that one second you were on the ground, the next flying through the air, your food was gone. Your last thought before the waves of darkness take over is I hope death treats me well.

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Dark fuzzy blue light is the first thing that hits your eyes when you open them. Then the throbbing pain begins, it's in your back, legs, head, anywhere on your body from the feeling. Your vision is blurry and a dark green blob appears above you, saying something you can just about make out from the ringing in your ears. "Ngaah! Oshi-san they're awake!" Oshi-san? Who the hell? You try to say something but your tongue feels heavy in your mouth. At least your vision is starting to come back into focus, the ringing in your ears slowly silencing.

"Kagehira quiet!" The dark green blob disappears from your sight, instead being replaced by a light pink one, leaning in close to your face. As your vision returns to normal you make out short light pink hair and purple eyes on the new person. He stares at you with a sneer, a disgusted look on his face. "Looks like you're awake dear, I don't understand why HiMERU dragged you back and demanded we heal you. But, I haven't seen him this concerned about anyone since Kaname." Kaname? The name doesn't sound familiar, but nothing here looks familiar either. The pink haired man leaves your sight, mumbling unintelligible words under his breath.

Your hearing comes back ever so slowly as the minutes pass, along with your sight. The pink haired man comes back around 10 minutes later with a plastic cup. You can finally see and hear clearly this time, but the aching pain only gets worse. "You need to drink this, it'll ease your pain, but you have to sit up first. I will not have you spilling it on anything. Kagehira, help them up." The pink haired guy, which you found quite rude, sets down the drink and moves away, the dark green haired man taking his place, who you assume is Kagehira. "This is gonna hurt, I won't lie to ya. But ya have to deal with it, drinking this will make the pain leave just like Teach said."

He grips you under the arms, yanking you into a sitting position. The pain is excruciating when he pulls you up, your head rolls back and you see more of the room you're in. It looks like a medical office, except there are screens everywhere, some showing what look to be vital signs, others you don't even know. Before you can get a closer look the dark haired man forces your head forwards, shoving the drink in your face. He pulls your mouth open, pouring the liquid in, it doesn't taste great but it's not horrible. Your useless tongue lolls around in your mouth, causing some of the drink to spill out onto the bed you're laying on.

"Ngaa, damnit, you're spillin it! Didn't you hear Oshi-san? He said not to get anything dirty!" Kagehira attempts to get the rest of the liquid in you, still spilling some. When he's finally done, he lets you drop back down. "You should feel better in a few seconds." He turns and leaves your line of sight. He was not lying, within a few minutes the pain in your body has almost completely disappeared and your tongue feels as if it can move again. When you're sure you can move without difficulty you push yourself up and swing your legs over the side of the bed.

You can clearly see the two who have been taking care of you, the dark blue light of the room Illuminating off of them. You realize then, they aren't regular humans. They have a wire hanging from the nape of their necks, indicating their hackers. Hackers aren't civilians, they work for either the cyber psychos or the government. Hackers were terrifying since they could hijack other hackers' brains, they could also break into heavily secured official online documents. They could upload their consciousness to cyberspace.

Another thing you notice about them is that they aren't normal, even for hacker standards. Kagehira, you realize, has two different colored eyes, one blue and the other yellow. His yellow eye though, seems to have some type of code written on it, a fake eye. You had no idea what that really did but it was probably dangerous, he could get any data he wanted when he looked at you is what you thought. Along with the eye mod, he had a weaponized hand from what you could see. Kagehira's whole hand was a mechanical gray, some bright green wires connecting the hand to the area just before his wrist. You didn't want to stare too long at it, lest he notices and starts thinking you're a threat, some secret government spy. He luckily didn't seem to either see or care, too busy studying some blue holographic information graph he's made in front of him.

The other hacker, Oshi-san, as Kagehira called him, looked relatively normal. The only thing which separates him from being another civilian is the wire hanging from his neck. His outfit, too, makes him stand out. It looked like one of the highly exclusive outfits showcased on billboards, something you could never afford. It's a deep wine rich red, with some black overlaying it. Not a common hacker or cyber psycho outfit, they usually prefered practicality over style. On closer inspection, the utility belt he had on held a pair of scissors, some medical tools, and bombs? You couldn't quite tell nor would you ask, you wanted to thank these strange men and leave, head back to your apartment and rest.

However that wasn't going to be happening because when Oshi-san looked up, still with that sneer, he wanted you out. "Kagehira, lead HiMERU's guest out of the medical bay, and to Main, where the others are. I need to clean up." And with a nod Kagehira hurriedly appears beside you, one mechanical hand on your shoulder leading you out of the room. You notice then, that both of his hands are mechanical, not just one. He doesn't say anything as he pushes you out the door, and you don't dare attempt to look around. Kagehira was stronger than he looked, you could tell he wasn't using much of his strength to push you along. Attempting to run had crossed your mind but from what you hear about cyber psychos, you would be dead before you took four steps.

The walk towards wherever he was taking you seemed forever, at least to you. The whole place seemed bathed in that deep blue. Eventually the hall opened up into a wide space. The first thing you noticed was the gigantic floor to ceiling window, spanning the whole length of the wall. It made the one in your apartment seem tiny. It was still night from what you could tell, except you weren't in the poverty ridden area anymore, or maybe you were, just in one of the expensive penthouses only shitty government officials owned.

Which couldn't be if you thought about it, you were with cyber psychos, the governments enemies. But perhaps they had government official spies, it wouldn't be surprising. That was most likely the correct answer. It would be even more surprising if you had managed to make it into the Tenshouin Metropolis. Cyber psychos can barely make it out alive in there. The view was still phenomenal from the window wherever you were.

You think it's safe enough to look around the new area without consequences. From what you can see while Kagehira’s still pushing you in. The next thing to captivate your attention is how richly decorated it is. There seems to be a bar to the right, a pinkish purple glow coming from it. Giant TV screens span the wall on the left, showing nothing. Some plants lay around as decoration. There's a big three staired area dipping down in the middle of the room. Inside there's a giant round glass table, surrounded by a large couch. You spot the people next, there's around four of them, all talking to each other on the couch.

None of them notice your approach, Kagehira keeping silent as he guides you along. You stayed quiet too, afraid any noise would have one of them shooting at you. Once you reach the stairs dipping down, that's when their attention turns to you. There were all men, only one of them with visible modifications.

The first man, grey hair pulled back in a ponytail, bright blue eyes, stares at you with confusion. He holds a pack of chips in one of his hands, the other paused midway to his mouth. The second man, a few inches away, has light blue hair down to his neck, golden eyes filled with concern. The black jacket he's wearing hangs loosely off his arms, which sit folded in his lap.

The third man has the modifications. He sits on the opposite end of the couch, arms outstretched and legs spread wide, showing off more than you'd like in some black cargo pants. His arms are mechanical, bright red wiring traces up them, showing off in patterns, it was an intricate but beautiful design. His vermillion hair is spiked up at the ends, a black headband ensuring they don't fall down. He also has blue eyes, except these are filled with amusement, a proud smirk lines his face.

The fourth and final man, well, he looks like a teen, has light pink hair. His lavender eyes gaze at you with curiosity. This boy's a hacker from the looks of it, a wire hanging down from the base of his neck. Kagehira pushes you into the circle, causing you to stumble on the steps a little, the light blue haired man makes a move as if to catch you if you had fallen but quickly stops. Standing awkwardly in the circle, wondering what was to happen. None of them said anything and you wondered briefly if one of these men was the so-called "HiMERU" as Oshi-san had said.

It didn't take long before the red headed one started speaking, "Gyahaha, Oi, MeruMeru what did you drag in? Some whore you picked up on the street?"

"HiMERU would like you to shut it." You remember then, HiMERU, you've seen him broadcasted on the government's wanted list. He's a dangerous psycho, in danger of going into manic mode if Tenshonin's claims were accurate. The other men's appearances clicked then too. The grey haired one was Niki Shiina, one of the assassin's of the psychos, also in danger of going manic. The red headed one, Rinne Amagi, the worst of them all, a reward of 5 billion was offered for any information about his whereabouts, and now you know. They wouldn't let you go, you had seen them and their hiding place, they must have a use for you since you're still alive. The last one, the boy you recognized as the famous hacker Kohaku Oukawa. He was known as one of the best, able to combat the head of cyber security of the government. Not much information was known about him, but it was said he had no technological modifications.

Kagehira speaks up from behind you. "Uh, Oshi-san said they have some bruising on their chest and back. I don't know what ya wanted them for but I thought I should tell ya. We gave them some medicine but it can't fully take away there pain." If anything, the looks from the men in front of you only got more excited at the prospect that you were injured and could feel pain. HiMERU's the first to speak up, "HiMERU is sorry he blasted that building. But he couldn't help it, he was being followed by the government. So HiMERU brought you here to have our doctors medicate you."

That relatively explained why you were here, but also didn't. Cyber psychos weren't known for their generosity or mercy, and by the looks of the others around him, they thought that wasn't a good enough reason to bring some random person into their hideout. "Wait wait HiMERU, you brought some regular civilian to our headquarters because you almost killed them? When did you ever care about that?" Niki's the one who spoke up, already pulling out another chip from the bag, before he can respond Kohaku cuts in. "Yea, don't we have to kill them now anyways? They can't leave now since they know where we're located."

That thought had already crossed your mind. You knew Kohaku was right, and you assumed they had some job for you. You hadn't thought one of them would save you because he felt guilty. "Really MeruMeru? You saved some random person? You never cared about leaving them to die before, what's so different about this one? You wanna hook up with them or something?" Rinne looks as if this is one of the most amusing conversations he's had, eyebrows quirked up, smugly grinning at HiMERU. "No, HiMERU had not planned on that, he does not know why but HiMERU feels some kind of attraction to them. He wishes for them to stay by his side."

You're sure the face you made is one of even more confusion then the expressions on the other cyber psychos, even Mika let out a confused "Huh?" from behind you. "Woah, that's new. I never thought you'd want a companion, Niki and me not enough to satisfy your needs, oh how rude you are HimeRunRun!" Rinne makes an upset sort of face before bursting out in raucous laughter. HiMERU glares at Rinne, one of his hands starting to twist at his wrist. Niki, finished with his chips, puts a hand on HiMERU's shoulder and he stops, hands once again falling limp.

His gaze turns back towards you, eyes only showing pity. "HiMERU is sorry he put you in this situation, he hopes you can understand. However, if you choose to accept HiMERU's companionship, he can offer you protection, you would not meet death." All you wanted to do was go home and play a game, lose yourself in a fictional world and forget about this one. But you knew you could only accept HiMERU's offer or die. Neither option appealed to you but you did enjoy your life, and maybe dating a cyber psycho wouldn't be too bad, it would definitely be interesting.

Your suspicions were confirmed when Kohaku piped up "Yea, if you don't accept HiMERU we'd have to kill you, but we could make it painless, we have the technology." You didn't want to die, you enjoyed your life in the city however shitty it may be. Living with cyber psychos would be interesting, they were always doing something illegal and performing acts against the government, but it would make your life less dull. This wasn't something you particularly wanted but you couldn't deny the thrill of excitement you feel at this new opportunity.

"Yea, sure I'll accept his offer. I can't do anything anyways, and it seems exciting." They all look at you with stunned expressions, HiMERU's is the first to change, a smile makes its way to his face. You hadn't known cyber psychos could smile. "You must be one dumb bitch to accept that offer! Or maybe you're just the same as those junkies out there, crazed and delusional! Oh how interesting, I can't wait to see how long you last with us." From the corner of your eye you could see Niki nodding his head in agreement at Rinne's words. HiMERU doesn't acknowledge Rinne, the only sign he heard it was a small twitch of his eye.

He makes a motion with his hands which looks as if he's beckoning you towards him. You're hesitant, fear hitting you full blast now, the deal having been made. You had agreed to stay with the cyber psychos, the most wanted criminals too. What were you thinking? You wouldn't last long no doubt, bound to be killed by a hunter sooner or later. Wallowing in your own self pity at your situation, you felt a hand shove you squarely in the middle of your shoulder blades, a sharp spike of pain from where he touched you.

"Ya gotta listen when HiMERU tells ya something, ya don't have any power here." Kagehira's voice sounds behind you as you stumble and fall, HiMERU catching you. He hugs you close to him, his hands pressing into unseen bruises and making you wince, you don't scream out, afraid it would anger them. Rinne speaks up again, making everything worse, "You gotta tell me after he's used you, was he any good? Whenever he's with Niki and me he's a slutty bottom, begging for our cum in ten minutes."

HiMERU presses you closer, almost crushing you with how hard he's hugging you. Niki looks uncomfortable from what you could see, eyes downcast at his empty chip bag. Kohaku doesn't seem to be paying any more attention to what's happening, engrossed in whatever he's playing on his holographic screen. Mika isn't looking at you either, gaze set towards the window, staring out into the night life. You wished you back out there, walking freely through the vibrant city, listening to the world as it falls apart around you.

Rinne doesn't quiet, his words only rising in volume, his laughter worsening with every sentence he manages out, "Oh also, be careful. Our little MeruMeru is infertile so you can have all the fun you want. I would love to learn how long it takes before you get all fucked out, begging for him to stop because it's too much!" HiMERU doesn't say anything, you're too scared to. So when that disgusted voice screams out "Be quiet you uneducated bastard! How dare you speak of such vile actions while in my presence! I should throw you out on the street and let the hunters take you away!"

"Oshi-san!" Kagehira's attention is immediately drawn to the man who had just appeared, he scrambles towards him, slipping on a rug. "Non Kagehira! You must be graceful, be careful not to trip." Kagehira nods as he takes his place beside Oshi-san, carefully standing up straight and staring down at you. "Itsuki, that stick up your ass hasn't come down any? I'm just joking."

You know Rinne must have said something that would start a fight based on the way Kohaku flinched and got up, walking out of the room towards the purple illuminated bar, Niki followed after Kohaku. Kagehira doesn't move, only narrowing his eyes down at Rinne. "HiMERU thinks he should leave now, come with HiMERU, he will take you to his room." Having no choice but to agree, you nod your head, his arms slip off of you and the sharp pain you felt under his hold slowly dulls down. He motions for you to follow him.

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HiMERU leads you to a room on another floor of the penthouse you’re in. You think it’s on the 88th floor but you’re not exactly sure, too tired from what had transpired already. The ride up to HiMERU’s room is awkward in your opinion. He stays quiet the whole time, golden eyes eyeing you every few moments, for what reason you can’t be sure. He pulls up a holographic map like the ones the others had, except his showcases something different, a long document by the looks of it.

You don’t ask about it, knowing better than that, it was probably some official top secret government document no normal civilian should see. The elevator ride is long, you’ve been in here for what feels like five minutes, and it still shows no sign of stopping. You take this moment to fully admire the cyber psycho who saved you, and also the one who took an unusual interest in you.

He still wears his black jacket, he has it hanging loosely on his arms, showing some of his pale skin from where it doesn’t cover. The shirt he’s wearing is body fit, sleeveless, showing off his lean build, for a cyber psycho he’s actually pretty skinny, when you thought of them you thought of muscular men, not this lean man. He wears baggy pants, all the more accentuating his skinny frame. His pants are utility, in dark blue. Some black lines run across the side. His pants also have a type of belt across them, which holds knives and other weapons. It looks like he most likely had more, concealed somewhere.

Eventually the elevator stops after what feels like forever, HiMERU getting rid of his hologram when he notices. The view from even higher up amazes you once again, HiMERU had a room on one of the tallest floors of the penthouse. High enough that everything down below looks tiny. His room is bathed in that same deep blue light, the wall in front of you one floor to ceiling mirror like the area you were in before. His room has Tv screens similar to the main area too, except pushed up against the wall is a giant king sized bed, hovering 12 centimeters above the carpet.

His room is furnished with some plants too, except weapons line the wall to the right and posters cover the wall to the left. He surprisingly has a few plushies lying on the floor too. "HiMERU stays here often, he likes how it looks, and the view from the window, however he is in the open here, everyone is. It is dangerous but beautiful." His voice startles you, he's standing right behind you, staring down.

The view had almost made you forget you were with the cyber psychos, except maybe it wouldn't be so bad, at least you hoped. HiMERU moves away from you to sit on his bed, watching you take in his room, looking for a sign you like it. When you finished looking around you sat down beside him, avoiding his eyes. You can feel his hand as it runs over your shoulder, taking care not to press too hard, lest he hurts you.

"Have you ever been in an room like this?" HiMERU removes his hand from your shoulder when he asks this, instead leaning back, laying down on his gray bedcover. A tentative "No" escapes you, it was true, you hadn't been somewhere like this, always too poor to keep up with the rapid advancements the city was making. You hadn't minded, happy to stay behind since it meant more safely however worsening conditions, being wealthy in this word meant death sometimes. The cyber psychos or government wanted your wealth to help them achieve their goals. Of course some declined, choosing to live out their lives in peace, however sometimes they were still targeted.

It was hard to tell who was working with whom sometimes, everything was secretive, but of course it was possible to find out. Skilled hackers could, they could hack into a house's database and find all the secrets people didn't want known. "HiMERU doesn't know if he likes how he is now." His words shock you, you thought every cyber psycho was some crazy individual, fighting against the government because they thought it was fun, or they had too much time on their hands.

You don't tell him this, afraid he might take offense and his attraction towards you would disappear. Staying silent, turning to look out the window and not at him, maybe he would keep talking or he'd go silent, falling asleep. "HiMERU didn't want to become a cyber psycho, but he wanted to. The government killed him, HiMERU does not forgive the government, he seeks vengeance." That sort of made sense, he had only joined since the government killed someone he was close to, you didn't ask not wanting to seem as if you were prying. But still, someone seeking vengeance usually didn't earn a spot on the most wanted list, or became one of the highly dangerous cyber psychos, there must be another reason.

"Did you know this room can do other things, HiMERU thinks the new tech in this era is interesting. Lights off." He was deflecting from his previous statements. You knew certain places were voice automated, yet yours wasn't and it surprised you some when the lights did go off. The dark blue was gone, yet the light from the city kept the room somewhat lit up, perks of a city that never slept. His room was more beautiful than before, soft pinkish purple light bouncing off everything.

Turning to look out the window, you hear HiMERU sit up and the dip in the bed as he moves himself closer. You don't dare to turn to look at him when you feel his warm breath on the side of your neck. You don't fight him off when he turns your face towards him, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss. You embrace it, closing your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the feeling of his soft lips on yours. He wasn't a bad person, you might actually enjoy being with you.

You let him climb on top of you, straddling your waist, he doesn't break the kiss yet, if anything he continues with more fever. The hand that had tilted your face moves down your body, resting on your collarbone, smoothing over the skin there. His other hand ghosting over your waistband, his fingertips resting right where your shirt ends. He disconnects from you, a small whine of protest escaping your throat when he does so.

"HiMERU wants to make sure this is ok, he does not want to force you into anything. So HiMERU is asking." Nodding your head hastily, wanting his lips back on you, any part he would kiss you wanted him too. And when he saw your nod his lips immediately fell back on yours. The hand at the end of your shirt immediately sliding up, ghosting over your sensitive skin. Gasping into the kiss when his hand finds its way to your bra, slipping under and fondling your breast. He immediately starts to pull and pinch at your nipple, willing it to harden under his fingers. His mouth once again leaves you, choosing instead to place small kisses on the corner of your lip, moving downwards. As he kisses down your jaw the hand on your collarbone moves down, coming to grab at your waist. His hold is firm, most likely so you wouldn't squirm around, but when his hand presses into you a pain erupts. That must be one of the bruises Kagehira was talking about.

A sound of pain leaves you, HiMERU's hands immediately leave you, and his kisses stop. "Ah, HiMERU is sorry, he didn't mean to hurt you, he forgot you were hurt. Would you like him to keep going, or would you like to rest?" Him stopping already would be more torture than him accidentally pressing into your hurt body. "No, it's ok, please continue." You look at him with pleading eyes, willing him to go on. He nods and moves to stop straddling you, choosing to lay beside you.

He turns you on your side, facing the window out into the city. You feel his body move to be right up against yours, his hard cock pressing into your back. His mouth is right next to your ear, you could hear his breathing slightly erratic. One of his hands snakes its way down to your waistband once again, trying to tug it down. With some difficulty he manages to pull your pants down to your knees, sliding them off and throwing them somewhere in his room to find later.

Your underwear follows soon after, thrown like your pants. The relativity cool air of HiMERU's room hitting your wetness makes you shiver. You become acutely aware that you're actually quite wet, sure to leave a stain on HiMERU's bed sheets. That thought doesn't last long as HiMERU's wet fingers find their way to your hole, using one to gather all your wetness before pressing in. It was unannounced the surprise mixing with the sudden pleasure causing you to let out a whispered "HiMERU."

A small chuckle leaves him as he curls the finger inside of you up, trying to spread you out enough for his next finger. When he deems you ready he slides in the next, alongside his other one, using them to make a scissor motion. The feeling is enough to have you gasping, aware that anyone near the window could see in, a full view of what was happening. The thought only makes you more excited, causing you to clench on HiMERU's fingers.

"Oh, HiMERU felt you tighten, what is making you so excited?" You barely get out "the window" before he's pressing in a third finger, thumb small circles onto your clit. "Does letting everyone in the city know you're a slut excite you? HiMERU thought you were better, but he guesses he was wrong." His mean words only have more pleasure shooting through you, small "nos' ' leaving. However when he presses into that spongy spot inside you, his thumb starts to rub more harshly on your clit you knew you wouldn't last.

Your orgasm hits harder than you expected, eyes rolling, as you press your back harder to HiMERU's chest, hole gushing out fluids on HiMERU as he fingers you through your high. When you come down, you realize HiMERU's already pulled his fingers out. He's moved above you, cock out, tip an angry red and weeping precum. The glow of the city lights reflects on his face, making him look more ethereal than he already is.

"HiMERU's sorry, but he wants to cum too, it's not nice that only you get too." You hadn't said he couldn't, but before you could even get a word out he pushes in, using your fluids as a natural lubricant. The stretch hurts, it feels as if he's splitting you open, and only his tip was in. You could feel tears starting to form, your vision becoming fuzzy. The aftershocks of your own orgasm still rolling through you. You knew you were tightened up around HiMERU, too tight for him to go any further without it hurting.

He leans close to your face, one of his hands moving up to wipe your tears away. "You need to breathe, HiMERU can't push in, it will hurt more, relax." His voice is calm although his breathing is quite excited. He starts nipping at your shoulder, wanting to make you relax and forget about the pain of him pushing in. It works and a few moments later he continues until he bottom outs. He doesn't move, letting you adjust to the feeling of being filled so completely. He was big, every small movement one of you made, made you clench back down on him.

He leans up from your neck, looking down at where you're connected together, your slick spilling out around him. Your tears were clearing and all you could see and focus on was him. The way his hands had moved to your hips, holding you in place, hard enough to leave a bruise to join the ones already forming. His chest was moving rapidly from his breathing under his skin tight shirt, his hair falling in a curtain over his face.

The next moment he moves, starting at a slow pace, the drag of his cock starting slow inside you causing you to groan. HiMERU pays no attention, too interested in the way his cock was starting to pump in and out of you. It doesn't take long before he has set a moderate pace. Small groans start to leave him and he leans down to capture your lips in a kiss once again, biting down on you. Your arms wrap around him, attempting to pull him closer than he already is.

He pulls away to announce "HiMERU is, fuck, close, he doesn't know why he can't hold out longer." Your response is a whimper against his lips, a coil in your stomach starting to tighten as his thrusts get rougher, eventually bouncing you on him. One of his hands snakes up to your hair, pulling at it while his other hand meets where you're connected rubbing at your clit to bring you over the edge with him.

It doesn't take long, HiMERU grunts and stills himself as far as he fan inside you, burying his face in your chest as you feel something warm start to fill you up. The feeling of him releasing causes you to reach your second orgasm of the night. Arching your back as you feel yourself cum on his cock. He doesn't pull out, instead rolling over to the side, still inside you even as he starts to soften.

You could feel his cum slowly starting to flow out of you, around his cock and onto his bed sheets but that wasn't your worry. All you could feel was the deep tiredness that set over your body from the night. HiMERU drapes an arm across your body and you snuggle into him, watching as the first light of dawn sneaks over the horizon. The last thing you hear before you succumb to sleep is HiMERU saying "curtains close."

[fckedupnerd]

Random Willy Wonka x Felix Fickelgruber headcanons

Under a cut because this post is LONG…

(Saying in advance that a few of these are heavily inspired by this fic https://archiveofourown.org/works/53223310/chapters/134678989 which I definitely consider to be the ‘gold standard’ for Felix/Willy fics, it’s amazing, definitely recommend reading it!!)

Felix loves taking Willy shopping and repurposes an entire guest bedroom (not just the closet but the whole room) into a massive outfit-display-suite for all of the new clothing he buys Willy

Felix has separate closets for his own clothing by occasion/type (like one whole closet for suits, another for ‘casual wear’ although knowing Felix it’s still not what most would consider casual, one for pajamas/robes, one whole closet for shoes, etc…). Willy finds this fascinating, as he’s never seen such excess before.

Willy stumbled one day onto a closet in Felix’s home filled with lingerie, heels, and even a few pretty slip-style cocktail dresses all in Felix’s signature green color. He mistakenly thinks Felix must have a wife or girlfriend that they belong to, and was upset by it. Felix then had to admit that they’re his, and that he occasionally enjoys wearing things that make him feel ‘delicate and pretty’. It’s a once-in-a-while think I headcanon Felix doing, just when he needs to feel particularly desirable or small, I think. In this particular headcanon/scenario, I imagine that Willy has never seen a man in lingerie before, and has never thought about it for himself, but he finds it curiously arousing and would at the very least like to experiment with seeing Felix in his lingerie, at least. I sort of imagine that Felix persuades Willy to try some on eventually also and that he loves it. They both have fantastic legs, so obviously I think they both end up enjoying wearing heels in the bedroom sometimes also.

I know others have definitely said this already but I share the headcanon that Felix definitely used his appearance/flirting to advance his career, especially when he was younger and starting out. Felix is fully aware that his physical desirability is an asset and he did perhaps ‘sleep his way to the top’ a bit.

I think Felix wants to protect Willy because Willy is so innocent, and Felix doesn’t want to see him get taken advantage of… whereas Felix willingly and knowingly used his sexuality to get where he wanted to be in life, I think Felix fears that Willy might not realize people’s intentions/desires all of the time, and Felix wouldn’t want Willy to end up in a situation he didn’t fully and knowingly want to be in so he’s protective of him in that way.

I think Felix feels like he could be a good, longer-term mutually beneficial (more like a regular/committed sugardaddy like in Otaku_girl’s fic linked above) partner for Willy, because Willy does need some strategic help to advance himself in the world, financially and otherwise, which Felix could provide.

I kind of headcanon that Felix may have had some less-than-positive experiences when he was ‘trying to get ahead’ with either some doms who were too rough/inappropriate, or just undesirable/unattractive to him, but he ‘did what he felt he needed to’. I think Felix *hopes* that he can save Willy from this by being very clear about consent, genuinely caring for Willy’s needs (not just financial but personally too), and he works very hard to be physically attractive as well as meticulously clean, so he hopes that he is the sort of person Willy finds genuinely appealing as opposed to someone Willy ‘tolerates’ (like Felix used to with some of his his doms/SD’s).

Willy is grateful for Felix’s financial support, he values the emotional and personal caretaking Felix provides for him too.

Also, Willy finds Felix far more attractive than Felix realizes… like, Willy absolutely would have been attracted to Felix even without his money, but Felix definitely has self esteem and self image issues that prevent him from believing that someone as young and beautiful as Willy would genuinely be into him without his fortune being at least some part of it.

I mean I think everyone knows I headcanon Eating Disorder Felix. I don’t think my actual headcanon for the character is quite as severe as I write it in my AO3 series… that’s definitely largely projection/therapy for me lol… but, my actual headcanon for the character is that he had a more severe eating disorder when he was younger, probably especially when he was trying to build his business and felt that being excessively thin would appeal/be attractive to older wealthy men who could help him. He is at a more stable place by the time we see him in the Wonka-film era, but I headcanon that he still has what he would call ‘issues with food’ where he knows he needs to keep himself healthy, but still struggles mentally and definitely has body image issues and struggles with being very judgemental about his own appearance and eating habits, as well as being judgemental of others.

I think he uses alcohol as a coping mechanism to make eating easier… again I am probably projecting here, but we do see him drinking (the other cartel members are not shown doing so), and early in my eating disorder recovery, I used to intentionally have a drink with meals because it would relax me enough to force myself to eat. I definitely think Felix at least drinks at the cartel meetings because he knows there will be food/chocolate around and he doesn’t want the others catching on that it makes him uncomfortable to have ‘unscheduled food’, so that keeps his mind off it enough that (he thinks) Arthur and Gerald don’t know about his past/lingering eating issues.

I also agree with Otaku_girl’s idea that Willy is probably too thin but because he forgets to eat and hasn’t had anyone to remind him/make him eat. I think Felix probably assumes it’s an ED, because people (like myself lol) so tend to project, and Felix really worries about how little Willy eats.

I think Felix eventually realizes that Willy doesn’t seem to have the body image problems that most people with ED’s do, so he figures out that it is more of a easily-distracted or not having access to food problem for Willy instead. But I think he still wants to fix it.

I think, just from my knowledge of how ED’s work, Felix like 95% wants to help Willy eat more and be healthier because he is genuinely worried for him and does honestly care. But I also headcanon that because of the lingering little bits of ED-brain in Felix there’s like 5% of him that is super triggered by Willy not eating/being too thin and so he also a little bit wants to fix it for his own benefit because it makes him struggle more to see that too.

I think Willy has suspicions about Felix’s attitudes and habits toward food/body image, and I think he cares/is concerned about him too… but I feel like every time Willy tries to bring it up, Felix deflects or changes the subject or insists that he’s fine because Felix is actually really ashamed of that part of his past and worried that Willy would judge him for it. Part of Felix knows it isn’t his fault that he was sick, but Felix worries that because Willy is too poor to have good food, and doesn’t even think about food or remember to eat most of the time, that he’ll think less of Felix if he knew that Felix actively tries to avoid food when he can. Like it’ll make Felix seem ungrateful or something. But of course it’s just Felix’s anxiety making him think that, because in reality Willy cares about Felix and would never be judgmental about something like that.

Okay, moving on from that topic for now… I think Felix is a HUGE SWITCH. He is both a top and a bottom and loves both, it just depends on his partner’s preferences, and what kind of mood he’s in at any given time.

My headcanon for Felix is that he’s basically just a sexual hedonist. His thing sexual philosophy is just… if it feels good, do it. I feel like he’s very adventurous and very open minded and has probably tried just about everything at least once.

I headcanon that Willy has only ever been a bottom in his (limited) sexual experiences so far

In fact I may even headcanon virgin Willy? Like, I think movie Willy gives major virgin vibes, I cannot imagine that he did anything other than make chocolate in his free time on the boat or anything. But my fic-writing, headcanon-based Willy might not be a virgin because I kinda don’t want him to be… so maybe he’s had a few experiences but definitely always as the bottom.

That being said, I have a headcanon (maybe it’s just a fic idea and not a headcanon but whatever) that Felix knows Willy is comfortable bottoming so that’s what they do but Willy learns that Felix also enjoys bottoming (maybe he just figured it out or maybe one of the other cartel members say something about it or something idk I haven’t worked that out yet), and so even though Felix would be perfectly happy to just do what Willy is comfortable with and be the top because that’s easiest, Willy all on his own decides he wants to surprise Felix by taking control one night and topping for the first time while Felix bottoms.

In my head, Willy is not exactly great at it and needs some guidance from Felix, so it’s not super hot the first time they try it, but Felix appreciates the effort and just finds it really endearing that Willy cared enough about him to switch it up

Also, I think that even though he’s understandably not the best at it his first time, Willy finds that he actually LOVES topping (don’t get me wrong he still loves bottoming too) but because he’s so innocent and sweet and polite and timid usually, he never gets to feel like he’s really ‘taking charge’… something about having control over someone really powerful and successful like Felix excited Willy in a way he hasn’t experienced before and I think he finds it really hot and definitely wants to do it again (and with more confidence each time)

Random weird little headcanon, Felix has custom made bath products (soaps, shampoos, etc) that are light green in color and have a very unique scent. Because of the green theme, Willy at first thought the scent could be like, pine or something, but he also knew that wasn’t quite right and it really bothers him that he can’t quite work it out, so one day he sheepishly asks Felix what exactly the scent is and Felix replies that it’s ‘money’. And Willy admits that he’s never actually held, let alone smelled, paper money so that’s why he didn’t recognize it. Felix then hands him some paper money, which Willy assumes he’s supposed to smell so after sniffing it he attempts to give it back to Felix who is very amused by it but says he meant for Willy to keep it.

The most random headcanon yet but I think Felix wears glasses at home. Maybe just readers, or maybe he actually needs them all the time but just wears contacts outside of the house. Genuinely don’t know where I’m getting that from except that I personally have a little bit of a kink for guys that wear glasses so I’m headcanoning it because I just want to. Also, I think it helps with the sugardaddy kind of image in my head and Willy would think they made him look distinguished and smart. Willy would tell him he should wear them in public, but Felix never would because he doesn’t think they fit his ‘image’.

Super random headcanon for Willy, I think he collects things, like he just has little trinkets from all of the places he went on his travels. I think he’s very big on sentimental value, and he likes keeping small memories of specific people or places. Like even when he says he got his trousers off a mailman in Minsk… presumably he knew that mailman pretty well, I sort of headcanon that neither of them obviously had much money, and maybe they’d really become good friends so they couldn’t afford to buy each other anything but they were similar sizes so they decided to trade some clothes as a way of ‘giving’ each other something to remember them by. I feel like Willy maybe did this a lot like just traded little trinkets and things with people he met, and that they all really mean something to him. I feel like when Felix buys Willy an entirely new wardrobe he doesn’t understand at first why Willy still wants to keep his old clothes even if he isn’t wearing them anymore, and maybe Felix worries that Willy wants to keep them as some sort of ‘contingency plan’ in case he wants to leave Felix. But then Willy explains that it’s because they have sentimental value, and even though Felix doesn’t think ‘sentimental value’ holds any real value at all, he is relieved that Willy isn’t planning to heave him, and he can see that it’s important to Willy, so he allows Willy to put them in a trunk in one of his storage closets for safe-keeping.

[dearestones]

Off With That Contract! (Riddle Rosehearts and Prefect + Octavinelle Interaction) Chapter 2

Warnings: Implied child abuse, implied eating disorder, implied PTSD symptoms, Octavinelle just because, sort of canon compliant but we’re veering into alternate universe terrtory, etc. (Note: These warnings are in effect for all parts of this fic even if they aren’t seen in this second section). 

@hisredhysteria/@herdisturbedheart Request: Anything Riddle.

Summary: Sometimes, in order to get around a rules lawyering octopus, you have to find yourself a lawyer. The closest one just happens to be one Heartslabyul Housewarden Riddle Rosehearts.

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CHAPTER TWO—FATHOMS BELOW

"Aren't you a little overdressed?"

The Prefect's voice was soft, but Riddle heard them all the same. He turned to them swiftly, a curious look on his expression that he made sure not to display any of the nervous irritation that he felt flooding his system. 

It wasn’t every day that a Housewarden chose to visit another dorm, especially in their dorm uniforms. While dorm uniforms were meant to instill a sort of rapport and allegiance to their chosen houses, most students opted to wear their regular school attire while visiting other dorms or on the school proper. Rarely did anyone see someone not of their dorm wear another uniform. It was akin to wearing a war flag, so to speak. While there were no rules regarding when and where students were to wear their dorm approved clothing (unless, of course, there was a schoolwide event), it was mutually agreed by everyone that you were either making a statement or picking a fight when worn outside of their designated houses.

And since this was Night Raven College, it was usually both. 

As Housewarden of Heartslabyul, Riddle was basically throwing his hat into the cold, dangerous waters of Octavinelle. 

Whether or not he would drown was up to Riddle’s magic and the Sea Witch’s benevolence the Octavinelle students were said to embody.

“I think the better question is whether or not you’re underdressed.” The instant those words came out of his mouth, he instantly regretted them.

In the past, he wouldn’t have been so quick to feel shame or guilt for his actions. After all, his word was law and all laws were supposed to be respected. If anything, he would have expected the Prefect to take his words seriously and then come up with a better outfit than the bedraggled uniform that had clearly seen better days. The fabric of the cardigan that they wore instead of the customary school blazer was threadbare at best and riddled with holes at the hem at worst. Their shoes were heavily scuffed and their pants were baggy—it looked like they were held up by a leather belt that had clearly seen better days. Sevens, Riddle could see that there were flakes from the belt decorating the Prefect’s pants. 

It didn’t take much for someone to come to the conclusion that the Prefect was clearly not the wealthiest student to attend Night Raven College and that they were barely receiving any financial aid for it. 

Riddle hadn’t meant to sound so callous, but old habits die hard. 

Kicking himself inwardly, Riddle started to apologize, but the Prefect held up a hand in dismissal. It would have annoyed him at any other time, but for now, he was grateful. It took effort for him to change and to realize that his mother’s teachings weren’t always meant to be followed, but he still needed time. 

“It’s okay, Riddle.” The Prefect gave him a smile that looked a little too wobbly on their features, but before Riddle entertained the idea of apologizing once more, his underclassman nodded towards the mirror that would take them into Octavinelle. “Besides, like I said, I came here with Jack yesterday and there didn’t seem to be any problem with meeting the Housewarden.”

“That doesn’t stop the residents here from snubbing you behind your back.”

The Prefect shrugged before taking one step further into the mirror’s reflection. “Honestly, it doesn’t stop most people from snubbing me right in my face either.”

And they left Riddle to bite the inside of his cheek before he, too, ventured into the depths of the Sea Witch’s domain. 

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that underneath the Prefect’s noticeable discomfort, there was also a festering resentment that Riddle could do little to remedy. 

As thoughts of how to endear himself to the Ramshackle Prefect raced through his mind (perhaps he should ask Ace and Deuce for advice), he found himself engulfed in the chilly air of Octavinelle. While most of the environments in the dorms were highly regulated by the fae, that didn’t mean that there weren’t any variations. While Heartslabyul and Pomefiore were maintained by environments that were inherently stable and rarely strayed from perfect temperatures for tea time (aside from weather patterns meant to emulate the weather in the Isle of Sages like winter), others like Savanaclaw and Scarabia had temperatures that ranged farther beyond the likes Riddle was comfortable with. Thank goodness Heartslabyul reminded him so much of his homeland, he wasn’t quite sure if he could stomach the heat that Scarabia had to endure!

In Octavinelle, the dorm uniforms made sense to be heavily layered and somewhat restrictive. Although not common knowledge, this specific uniform served several functions. First, it helped keep the Octavinelle students warm. Encased in glass walls to separate the ocean from engulfing the dorm, the temperature always ranged from cold to freezing. Second, the dorm uniform served as a means to showcase a classy persona. What better way to promote a student owned restaurant than making sure that all of the residents (regardless of whether or not they actually worked in Mostro Lounge) were equally as well dressed as they were polite?

(Riddle—and most of the other Housewardens—would argue that they weren’t polite at all, but that was just bias… There were other reasons why he didn’t go visiting Octavinelle).

Thirdly, and the final fact that Riddle found most interesting, was that a large percentage of Octavinelle were merfolk so the tight, restrictive clothing simulated pressure under the sea. The Vice Housewarden had said that coupled with the low temperature (which should have been colder, he had said with faux yearning) and pressure on his body, it felt like he was back at home. (Minus the tail and his fins, of course). 

Merfolk as a whole certainly didn’t make up a large portion of the general populace by any means (in fact, they were just as rare as the fae, which was saying a lot), but they were more than likely found in Octavinelle. Riddle wasn’t sure if the Magic Mirror was biased when it sorted them into the Sea Witch’s dorm in particular or if they truly had the shape and color of a soul of someone deserving of the Sea Witch’s benevolence, but then again, he could say the same for the beastmen in Savanaclaw. 

At the very least, Riddle knew that there were several beastmen in his own dorm and scattered throughout the rest of the houses, but you could never tell who was merfolk. Potions were never perfect, but if well brewed, you could disguise most features that would out you as not human. 

“Oh my, the Heartslabyul Housewarden and the Ramshackle Prefect?” Riddle glanced up to find the looming figure of the Octavinelle Housewarden: Jade Leech. Good, at least it wasn’t Floyd. “I was expecting the Prefect, but have you come to enjoy the newest additions to our seasonal menu, Riddle?”

Riddle had never seen Jade in his underwater form, but he knew in his heart of hearts that Jade was more of a predator than what he usually showcased in real life. Aside from the obvious like the propensity for looming over others, his tall height, and the rows of sharp teeth that he had seen once and hopefully never again, Riddle had heard rumors that Jade often compiled information about his peers, using them as blackmail before giving the data to Azul. Furthermore, there were the small incidences when Riddle happened to be paired with Jade during class projects and well... Riddle knew Jade could be competent, but there were times when Riddle felt like he was doing more than his fair share of the workload and if he happened to not know something (which wasn't all that often), it felt like Jade was mocking him whenever he was the one to collect the information.

Whatever the case, Riddle preferred Jade.

In fact, it was safe to assume that he preferred any number of Octavinelle students if that meant he could avoid Jade’s twin brother: Floyd.

Riddle suppressed a shiver of disdain that nearly made it past Jade's radar.

"I've heard from one of my residents that there has been a new drink available at the bar." He nodded towards the Prefect who, up until that point, was observing silently. If Riddle thought about it, the Prefect looked rather fascinated as to their interactions. An observant sort they were, that Prefect. "In fact, I've decided to treat the Prefect for their hard work during the finals."

Jade hummed, the low tone eerily pleasant compared to the predatory look in his eyes. Used to Jade's antics, Riddle merely leveled him a cool glance to which his fellow second year only nodded in a mockery of mutual respect. If anything, Jade thought him a mere toy—possibly a goldfish like his dear twin brother often called him.

"Hmmm... I didn't realize you and the Prefect were that close. Did you know that the Prefect has scheduled a meeting with Azul around this time?"

Riddle crossed his arms and managed to make looking up at his much taller peer effortless and rudely nonchalant—almost as if he were looking down on him. Not that Riddle needed to feign confidence around Jade—he was, of course, technically of a higher rank than the Octavinelle Vice Housewarden. 

“If you’re worried that the I will make the Prefect late for their meeting, rest assured that I uphold punctuality just as much as I uphold the Queen’s rules.” Turning towards his companion for the evening, Riddle nodded towards the entrance of Mostro Lounge and the both of them began to head inside. To Jade, he bid him a farewell that straddled the line of friendliness and a cold rebuff. “I’ll escort the Prefect myself when the time comes.”

When they were out of earshot, the Prefect bent close to Riddle’s ear, their voice somewhat scandalized and at the same time awed by his audacity. It was an interesting development that starkly contrasted the almost fearful disposition that Riddle often saw from his underclassman. It was a change that made him feel proud, even if he had no idea why the Prefect was so welcoming all of a sudden. 

Their voice was urgent, hushed, but all the same, it sounded as if the Prefect was sharing a sordid secret with Riddle. “You lied! You lied straight to the Vice Houeswarden’s face!” At the amused smirk that was slowly creeping up his lips, they sucked in the air in their cheeks and gave him a mock look of irritation. “Isn’t that against the Queen’s rules?”

At this point, the pair of them were ensconced deeply within the bowels of House Octavinelle. As a Housewarden, Riddle was more than familiar with doing business with the Octavinelle Housewardens. In Riddle’s first year, the previous Housewarden was just as “benevolent” as Azul, but had been ousted from his position due to the lucrative nature of Azul’s business and his drive to perfect his magic. He hadn’t been present for the battle that was customary when handing the title of Housewarden to the newest contender, but Riddle had heard that Azul’s magic was not only powerful, but was vastly precise as well. Meticulous. Quick. Like a rip current that came without warning, but inevitably dragged you under and claimed victory. 

When Azul came into power, Riddle usually came to him for matters concerning the financial state of affairs during school wide events or if one of Azul’s residents needed discipline. Often, it was the former, but there were times when even Riddle knew that he couldn’t magic a collar onto troublemakers, especially if they were from other dorms. That was just a fight waiting to happen. 

Still, though, even if their relationship was more on the professional side, Riddle thought he knew how to handle Azul—and by extension, the rest of Octavinelle.

And that meant not sharing information lest someone with the right ears and wrong intentions were to overhear. 

Amidst the light jazz that played in the Lounge and the light chatter from the patrons, Riddle’s voice was low, but clear enough so that only the Prefect could hear and he wouldn’t have to repeat himself. 

“I’m appalled that you would say that, Prefect.” Face neutral, Riddle made sure to steer his charge away from a nearby waiter who walked a little too close for his taste. Furthermore, he was positive that what the waiter was writing in his notepad wasn’t the table’s order, but rather an analysis of what Riddle and the Prefect was doing inside Mostro Lounge. “Not once did I lie to Jade. I am well aware of your meeting with Azul because you told me and the plan was for me to accompany you during negotiation. It would be rude of me to not escort you to and from the VIP room.”

Here, Riddle gracefully sat in one of the barstools, a server quickly sidling up to the counter. 

“But what about…” The Prefect’s voice dropped to a low murmur, having already picked up on the fact that it would be better if they kept their business on the quieter side. “The drink?”

Riddle shrugged. “Cater likes to wax poetic about the newest trends—the Octavinelle menu just happens to be one of them.”

The polite clearing of a throat interrupted the Prefect’s charming rendition of what a certain someone would have called a “pufferfish”. 

“I don’t want to interrupt—” The Octavinelle server actually wanted to interrupt. That was more than obvious: Riddle knew that most of the members were on the clock for one reason or another and most were under the impression that Azul would dock someone’s pay for the slightest infraction. 

(Riddle was under the opinion that Azul wasn’t that capricious over what constituted lost time, but then again, the Octavinelle Housewarden liked to uphold the status quo).

“—but I have a feeling that the both of you would like to try the newest addition to this season’s menu. It’s discount price if you pair it with—”

Riddle found his attention divided. A part of him, always polite and fair, took heed to the Octavinelle student’s spiel upselling the new items. Another part, something that was usually well hidden, felt a little abashed, but a fair bit proud that he made the Prefect smile.

It was small and it did little to absolve Riddle of his past transgressions, but it was a start. 

“We’ll take you up on that offer,” he said to the server. “Pair it with whatever the Prefect wants.”

“S-seriously?”

“Something sweet and preferably with strawberries.”

.

.

.

[PART ONE] [PART TWO HERE] [PART THREE] [PART FOUR] [PART FIVE] [PART SIX] [PART SEVEN] [PART EIGHT] [PART NINE] [PART TEN]

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel freehttps://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

TWISTED WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

[weird-dere-writes]

hi twy!!! I wanted to ask a question about you and ichigo if you don’t mind!! what’s the most unexpected sweet thing he has ever done for you?

Kendy, my dearest, hello!! :3

Kissing your cheeks, kissing your nose, kissing your forehead, kissing your hands rn 🥰💋💋💋.

I hope you are doing well this Friday and that you are fulfilled and recharged during the weekend uwu 🫶🏾🩷🩷🩷🩷.

I will never mind being asked questions about my blorbos! Especially Orange Husband, my beloved 🧡.

AUGH the most unexpected sweet thing he’s ever done for me 🥺. I am getting tearful just thinking about it 😪💜💜💜.

Ichigo knows two things about me:

That I can get really in my head about how much I matter to people (especially if I’ve been lonely for a time).

That I am a very sentimental person. (Like I still have birthday cards from when I was a child stored away dawg)

So knowing these things, he conspired to get me these babies ⤵️

Not only are they super cute (how i love sanrio and pastel colors <3), but their purpose is so so special. They are for holding those sentimental papers and moments that remind me I am loved and that I have so much love to give others.

He took me out on a date night. We went somewhere pretty, then somewhere we could get pampered together, and then we went to have dinner :3. When we came back was when I was surprised with them all sitting together on my bookshelf.

He knew I would like the designs on them, and he knew in general I was trying to get more organized so he thought they would be a good gift (he was right uwu). And he had realized only after they'd been shipped that maybe I could use them instead of that chest and that photo storage box I had been using and meaning to put together.

The blue one I decided I would use to store all the old birthday cards, letters, and other things I already have from people I'm related to or I've known in person.

The pink one I decided to use for sweet messages from friends online. Either i print them or write them out and include where to access them digitally uwu. Not only do I use it for messages from others to me, but also for messages I've sent to others and how happy it made me to see it made them happy if/when they responded :)))).

The yellow one is exceedingly precious to me 🥹. This one had him blushing as he asked if I could save that one, just for him. This one he fills alone, with thoughts, love letters, poems, affirmations, pictures he gets developed, or just other little things or small gifts he thinks I would like 🧡🧡🧡. The bottom drawer is where I put the shorter, more casual things. Stuff he loves about me, how good i looked in an outfit on a particular day, letting me know how happy i made him by doing something simple, etc. The pictures also go there. The middle drawer is where the more in depth things like love letters, poems, and the like go. The top drawer is like a little inbox! He puts all the new stuff for me there :3. So when something is there I know I'm in for something lovely from my one and only 🧎🏾‍♀️💓💓💓. And once I go through it i put it in the appropriate drawer or elsewhere if its a small gift.

On that night, after he'd asked to save the yellow one, he let me know there were already a few things waiting for me in it. I melted on the spot. He kissed my forehead before telling me he was going in the other room to give me some time to read them.

The way this man's written word had me absolutely SOBBING to myself 😭😭😭💖. I had to go hug him immediately after reading, still crying.

We cuddled tenderly for the next hour or two. And after, he would make the sweetest love to me. I could feel him pouring his heart into every touch. I was trembling at orgasm, and I once again cried after we were done lol. He was so gentle with me, my word 😪 <33333.

And why it all means even more to me? It wasn't even like our anniversary or anything!! No special holiday, no nothing! It was just a regular night that he decided to shower me with so much intimacy, affection, and care :((((((. He is the love of my life forevermore 💜💜💜💜💜.

Kendy this ask of yours birthed this scenario and it is so close to my heart omg I am actually perishing, thank you for this :c <333333. I am kissing you eternally. If you feel so inclined, because I would like to reciprocate this gift, what’s the most unexpected sweet thing Isshin (or really whatever fave you are feling most) has ever done for you?

💋💋💋

[thereaderinsertlady]

Could you do some doopliss or Flavio (paper Mario) NSFW hcs?

How about (scratches chin) both! The Flavio one is further down in the 'read more' section of this post. I hope you enjoy~

‎

Doopliss x Reader - NSFW Headcanons

Doopliss, in his regular form, unfortunately doesn't have a dick. However, since he can take a different form, sex with him can get pretty wild.

He asked you a good while ago if you'd be alright with certain kinks he has, which included fucking you in your sleep, or taking a form that you wouldn't recognize and fucking you without saying that it was him instead of some random person... and of course you obliged.

Doopliss usually sneaks up on you while in a different form before ruthlessly ripping your clothes off and fucking you then and there, not caring if any Boos in the steeple would see. By this point, the Boos have learned to stay away as soon as they realize what Doopliss is going to do to you.

While Doopliss does usually take a male form, he does switch over to female every now and then– usually a form with rather large breasts.

Although he does wild things during sex, you two don’t have sex all that often– only a handful of times a month. He's usually extremely rough, and you need time to recover– and then there'll be some days where neither of you want to do anything.

Occasionally, Doopliss will 'feel lazy' and stay in his original form, and preform oral sex on you. He's very good with his mouth, and really, you just like seeing his normal face.

‎

Flavio x Reader - NSFW Headcanons

Flavio isn't too experienced with sex, but he still tries his best. He used to only focus on his pleasure, but after a small talk with you, he has learned to make you feel good too.

He's very big on foreplay– he likes to dress up in his usual outfit, and pretends that he's an infamous sea captain that has captured the greatest teasure yet– you. He'll also go through different scenarios with you, such as either 'capturing' you or 'finding' you lost at sea. It turns him on, so you couldn’t complain.

You and him will switch back and forth on who does the most work. He usually is the dominant one in bed, and he'll command you to be on top or something of the like if he doesn’t feel like doing most of the work that day.

Flavio likes to have sex often with you– a bit too often, and there have been times where you had to turn him down because you were either too sore from last time or just too tired in general.

...Though, whenever you do turn him down, he still manages to find a way to entertain himself, such as jerking himself off in front of you or finding a 'toy' to play with.

After sex, Flavio typically goes straight to sleep, but he still does take a few seconds to at least wipe some of his cum off of you. It's the thought that counts, really.

[that-yandere-life]

Five Hargreeves Quote Prompt: “I don’t care if I’ll go to hell as long as I drag everybody who dares to touch you, talk to you and look at you with me!”

[Warnings: Yandere Themes *Obviously*, Five like all my characters are 18+, Violence, Mentions of blood, kidnapping.] 

Five met you when he visited his favorite diner one day to get some coffee seeing you behind the counter in the silly little outfit the waitresses had to wear.

Turning to greet him you ask what he would like to order, chuckling a little when all he ordered was a black coffee.

Going over to the machine you told him he came in at just the right time as you had just finished brewing a fresh pot.

Pouring it into a mug you brought it over to him, setting it in front of him along with a spoon wrapped in a napkin just in case he wanted sugar or anything since that was kept on the table.

Wandering over to where the baker just brought out fresh donuts, grabbing one bringing it over to him, telling him he looked like he needed a snack with his coffee and that it was on you.

Sometimes you did this when you saw that people were looking a little under the weather mental health wise, but unknowingly your act of kindness was all that was needed to fully get Five’s attention.

Thanking you with a rare smile he took a bite and he was surprised it wasn’t overly sweet but incredibly delicious as it had been a long time since he indulged.

Becoming a regular as he kept coming back to see you now knowing you by name, having many conversations with you by now.

One day he came in and these two guys sitting in a booth were giving you quite a hard time, grotesquely flirting with you and asking for your number.

Honestly you were more freaked out by the incident than anything else, declining to give them your number, you never gave it out at work as a rule.

Eyes widening in shock as you went to walk away and one of them grabs your ass harshly causing you to gasp at the audacity.

Before you could open your mouth to kick them out the man was already on the ground at your feet having his face smashed in by a fury of blows at the hands of Five.

Repeatedly hitting him until his friend yanked him off earning a few hits in his own face before they scrambled over their own feet, throwing money down on the table before running out the door leaving only the two of you there.

Scolding him slightly for resorting to violence you also noticed that his hand was bleeding and bruised which caused you to wince and go grab a wet towel to gently clean his cuts.

Touching one of the deeper wounds made him jump at the contact causing you to apologize feeling bad for hurting him, asking him why he did it in the first place.

“I don’t care if I’ll go to hell as long as I drag everybody who dares to touch you, talk to you and look at you with me!”

Pausing in complete shock you looked into his eyes seeing the darkness behind his statement which was now causing you to internally panic, unsure of how to respond to that.

Five could see that you weren’t expecting him to say something like that, especially not coming on so strongly after what you had just experienced and while he sort of felt bad he wasn’t going to lie to you either.

Finally breaking the silence you ask him what he means by that, you had a job to do and it wasn’t like you could just stop interacting with people and while you had grown fond of Five you didn’t think that you fully returned his feelings.

Sighing softly before pushing his hair back out of his eyes with his unmarred hand he said that even if you didn’t know it yet you were his, and nothing you say or do is going to change that.

Backing up you felt a sense of dread and horror rising from your head to your feet at his words telling him that you think it’s best that he leave, that you were getting uncomfortable.

Making it almost to the employee area before suddenly there was a wisp of blue light behind you and arms wrapping around your waist keeping you in place before you were completely enveloped by the same light.

Blinking rapidly you realized instantly that you were no longer at your place of work but somewhere new entirely, still being gripped tight you hear Five’s voice in your ear as he whispered welcome home darling.

[I haven’t written any Umbrella Academy in a while but I just feel like this quote embodied Five for some reason! If you all are interested in more UA content send me some requests babes! I hope that you all enjoy! <3]

[pedros-mustache]

nighthawks (8)

series masterlist || previous chapter

word count: ~8k+ (there is no plot until the last 2k of this i am ashamed)

warnings: smut (18+): piv sex, hate!sex, fingering/squirting, oral (m!receiving), face fucking. also: canon typical violence and weaponry, use of the word “whore” to refer to sex workers, slight angst, developments maybe???, language, x fem!reader

a/n: surprise shawty! a day early for my lovelies! this chapter is a lil’ different but shit is gettin’ saucy—in more ways than one. 😉 as always, let me know what you think. xoxo!

(beta’d by @pleasedin​ // gif by @bestintheparsec​)

The Mandalorian was not lying when he told you: I’m not finished with you yet.

The Mandalorian was not lying when he found his voice that evening in the cargo hold and said: Yes. It will be a regular thing. 

Din Djarin is not a man who lies. He is a man who keeps his word. And for the last fortnight—fourteen days of steering his ship through the stars and his body into yours—he has made good on his promise.

He is by no means finished with you.

//

DAY EIGHTEEN—THREE DAYS SINCE SETARR

“Do you like it, Mando?”

Din looks up from his place at the annex table when your voice fills the hall and—

His response is juvenile: a sudden rush of blood to his length, a heavy tongue, warm cheeks. He feels like a young man again, caught by the sensual gaze of an older woman who likes the build of his shoulders and the cut of his beskar. He knows he should not be here, letting her—no, it’s you now—toy with the desire for touch and warmth that churns in his gut, but he cannot bring himself to move. He cannot bring himself to look away.

Right arm draped high over your head, ass pushed to the side, you lean against the bulkhead. Your body curves in a gentle s formation, sleek lines hugged by metallic blue-grey fabric. Wide-leg pants and a top that offers nothing to the imagination, the straps criss-cross your neck, leaving your stomach and shoulders exposed to the elements. It’s ridiculous, impractical, counterproductive but all of you glistens beneath the soft glow of the open fresher door and Din cannot be bothered to consider pragmatism in a moment like this.

God-fucking-damn.

He leans forward, gripping the meat of his thigh with strained fingers. “Where did you get that?”

You step away from the wall, and your hips sway to their own heavenly melody. “Daos-Seven. In the market before we left.” You pause in your lithe step, bare feet pigeon toed. When you swing your shoulders back and forth, clasping your hands behind your back, a lump rises to his throat. “I got this and a few others. So… do you like it?”

He huffs; the noise pushes through his voice coder, edges brusque and feral. “No.” Yes—gods, yes.

Your lower lip pouts. “Really?” Twisting, you present your backside, cupped well by the stretchy, velvet-like fabric. “I like it. It wasn’t that expensive either.”

“You look ridiculous.” He stands from the table. “Take it off. Or I will.”

Your pout morphs to a frown as you spin to face him. Your breasts squeeze beneath the meager top when you cross your arms. He swears he can see the outline of your nipples through the woven material. He wants to… Fuck, he wants to bury his face between your soft skin and drench your breasts in his spit and maybe even—

You’re speaking, he realizes, though your words slog through his viscous, honeyed thoughts. The sharp point of your tongue invades his sweet, syrupy mind, scraping whatever pleasure he can squeeze from his pitiful life to the side.

“Honestly, Mando,” you say. “There’s no reason to take it so personally. It’s just a new outfit and a little bit of teasing. My old duds were so gruny you could practically see the sweat stains from space. Can’t have that as a bounty hunter now can I?”

He grinds his teeth against his jaw. “Take it off, girl. I won’t ask you again.”

You scoff and drop your arms. “Has a change of clothes really upset you that much? Maker, you’re unbalanced. I swear…”  

Shaking your head, you move to walk away, but Din catches your forearm. He yanks—hard—and you crash into his chest with a murmured expletive. Planting his opposite hand in the small of your back, he folds over you, pushing, pushing, until you must arch your spine to accommodate his body crowding yours. Your chest heaves, tits brushing up against his beskar-clad torso, nipples gone taut from the cold metal. Or maybe—

Maybe you want him as much as he wants you. 

This transition from closeted desires to rabid fucking infected with resentment and a struggle for dominance remains new. Din is still able to count on one hand the number of times he’s stripped you bare and plunged his cock in your warm depths: that first time, in the annex, bathed in the light of hyperspace; on Hegora, blanketed by soft grass; after Daos-Seven; once more since then, bent over the galley table. Five times, hardly a habit and certainly not a ritual. Thus he holds this arrangement in his palm like a flower. He knows his strength, knows his uncanny aptitude for crushing what beauty has been offered him by the Maker, and so he holds the flower—the agreement that yes, he can fuck you when he wants, how he wants—with a trembling hand lest he mistakenly clench a fist and break delicate petals. 

It has been so long since he felt the pliant embrace of another. So long since he inhaled the scent of their skin, felt his flesh against theirs. None of these things he will give to you; none of these things you deserve. But his cock? That rigid length you’ve taken between your mouth and sucked within your wet center? He can give you that. If you want it.

Your hot breath fogs his visor. “I like the outfit,” you mutter. “If you rip it, I’ll cut your heart out.”

He tilts his head. “Seems dramatic.”

Lifting your chin, you raise an eyebrow. “Try me.”

He could ignore your request and tear the outfit from your body like he so desires. One hard tug, and he’s sure the top would unravel between his fingers. How sturdy can an outfit from Daos-Seven’s seedy market really be? Only, there’s something about a simple shift to his voice or posture that robs you of your senses, turning you dumb and boneless. He’s seen it here in the annex, once more in the galley. He wants to see it again.

“You want the truth?” He lowers his voice to the pit of his chest, and your eyes widen in quick response.

Keeping you pressed to his abdomen, Din steps forward, one foot after the other until you bump against the edge of the annex table. He drops his hold on your back and frames your body with a hand on either side of your hips. Bent at the waist, his eyes dance between yours. Your pupils swallow the bright color of your irises, mind gone drunk on the room’s mounting tension.

“I like the outfit too,” he admits. “It’s ridiculous for a bounty hunter to wear but...” Dipping two fingers beneath the waistband of your bands, he tugs then releases, letting the band snap against your stomach. “I like it enough I want to fuck you in it. Will you let me?”

Without hesitation, you nod, and suddenly, that iron-clad, haughty tongue of yours vanishes in a puff of want. He smirks. Works every time.

Gently, as though not to disturb the thin ice on which he treads, Din lowers himself to his knees. He guides his palms from your waist over the globes over your ass, pausing to knead his fingertips in the supple flesh there. You suck in a sharp breath. He hooks his fingers in the pant’s waistband, glancing up to see you watch him through hooded eyes, and then he pulls, slow, inch by precious inch. The skin revealed by his sluggish disrobing looks good enough to taste. He wonders if remnants of your soap cling to the crease where your leg meets your groin, and if he might be able to taste flower petals should he swipe his tongue through your depths. He wishes he could— 

No. Best not start down that wooded trail. He may lose himself within the brambles of possibility and never return.

Once stripped, the pants pool around your ankles, and your naked cunt stands before him like the lustrous centerpiece of your body. For a moment he considers removing his glove in order to feel your lips part against his fingertips, but he will forgo that pleasure, that carnal, intimate desire… for now.

He presses the pad of his thumb to the apex of your womanhood and studies the way your delicate flesh eagerly invites his fingers between your folds. You lean against the table, hands clutching the edge as though you might free-fall to your death at any moment. The muscles in your thighs tremble with anticipation, and he curves his free hand around the back of your leg to steady you. You aren’t wet, not yet anyway, but he can remedy that quick enough. The leather of his glove catches on your dry cunt as he drags his thumb from your clit to the cleft of your ass. His thumb slips at your opening, and he makes a sound somewhere near a hum. 

“There you are,” he murmurs, rubbing his finger through the puddle of slick at your center. 

“Mando…” He looks up at the sound of your hushed and heavy voice. “Come on. Quit teasing me.”

“I’m not teasing. Unlike you, I don’t tease.” 

To prove his point, he dips his thumb into your cunt. Prodding your tight walls, he pushes until you swallow him to the second knuckle. Your head drops forward on a hitched breath, your stance inching wider to better accommodate his hand. He see-saws his finger through your wet channel, rubbing forward and backward until your hips give an experiment buck. 

He pauses to let his gaze roam your face. “I want you nice and ready for me. Can you take another?”

Though a fog of desire clouds your face, you lift your left leg and drape it over his shoulder. Your pussy spreads for him, magnificent, glistening and glossy, an offering he cannot resist. He bites back a grin. Such an obedient girl when you want to be. 

He removes his thumb, but is quick to fill your cunt with his first two fingers. You groan. Your heel presses into his back, nudging him closer. He takes the hint and pushes his fingers further, deeper, crooking them forward until he finds the spongy spot in the hidden depths of your center. He coaxes the spot with his gloved-hand, curiosity snatching his focus.

Din can fuck. He knows he can fuck. He’s bedded enough whores to understand a few things: He’s big, he’s thick, and he’s good. But those fleeting connections were born out of desperation, stolen moments between jobs, and he never stayed long enough to truly discover the wonders of a woman’s body. He’s never tangled his lips with someone else; never tasted a pussy; never brought a girl to her knees by his hand alone. But with you—hovering out here in space, wasting time because he can’t bring himself to find yet another sorry, useless bastard—he can do whatever he wants.

And he wants to make you pour over the floor of his ship.

He pulls his fingers out of your tight cunt long enough to adjust his straining cock then he lifts his face. He offers his pussy-soaked fingers to your parted mouth. “Get ‘em wet,” he says. You swallow a lump in your throat before spitting in his hand. The saliva pools in the bend of his knuckles, and he huffs. “Wasn’t what I had in mind, but fine.”

Dragging your spit over the pads of his fingers, he positions his hand at your opening once more. He doesn’t look up when he says, “Hold on to my shoulders.”

As soon as your trembling hand latches onto his pauldron, he plunges his fingers into your cunt, searching for that buried pleasure spot. He finds it with ease and nudges the spot until you gasp, eyes shut and jaw limp. He drags his hand down, removing the pressure for an instant before he surges forward to press against it again. Forward and backward, an unchanging rhythm, a dance of his own making.

You squeeze him; the leg thrown over his shoulder, your pussy around his fingers, your own grip on his armor, all of you holds him tight. Little squeaks catch in your throat and tumble past your lips as he picks up speed. Faster now, hitting that spot with unrelenting determination. 

He drives into your cunt with his fingers alone, and he has to hold his breath to stop himself from wrenching his hand free and tearing off his glove. The warmth seeping through the old leather is enough to make his cock throb, and the slick bubbling at your opening makes his mouth water. But all he can do in this vulgar moment is fuck you hard and fast with his fingers. He will fuck his fingers into you until you gush for him, and even then, he will fuck his fingers into you harder.

He can feel it growing. Your hips writhe against his hand, and he can feel the ultimate burst of pleasure rising in your center as you toss your head back, at last releasing a strangled and cracked moan. The sound sends his cock into overdrive, the front of his flight suit drenched with his own excitement. Your muscles quiver around him, thighs trembling as you hit your first peak, but he keeps going. Not there yet; he can feel it around the corner, but you aren’t there yet. 

Faster, harder. He’ll get you there if it’s the last thing he does.

He adds his thumb to your swollen clit, and you keen as he drags it in a slow circle, so at odds with the swift slide of his fingers. The numb swells against his finger, and he pushes inward, flicking it back and forth as he fucks your cunt.

“Oh…” You lean forward on an inward plunge, and his helm hits the hot skin of your stomach. “Oh—oh my god—I think…” 

You bite down on your lip, spine curling, and there, there—he knows it’s there—he can feel it—you tighten—you sob—and you release.

Liquid gushes from a concealed reserve, spraying over his forearm, splashing onto the floor of the ship. A wide grin breaks the pull of his concentrated frown. He keeps rubbing—rubbing and rubbing—as your body quakes around him.

“Fuck. That’s a girl. Look at you.”

He drags the liquid gold from your body until you’re begging for him to stop, until you pull your leg from his shoulder and kick his helmet with whatever energy you still possess. He falls to his ass, and his hand slips in the fluid scattered and glittering on the floor. He drops further to his elbow, legs propped, a firm tent in his pants revealing he enjoyed pulling that orgasm just as much as you enjoyed receiving it. Smug and satisfied, he searches your face and yeah…

You both know he’s good.

But you bend to grab your pants from the ground. You fold them over your arm with careful reverence, smoothing any wrinkles he created. He can see the twitch in your thighs and the ooze of cum painting your legs, but you hold yourself with composure, as though he hasn’t just rung you dry.

You clear your throat and step over his recumbent form. Flicking your hair over your shoulder, you head for the fresher, an unnecessary sway to your hips as you go. Still, he does not miss the wobble of your gait nor your foalish legs. You put on a good show, attempting to appear more poised than you are, and it makes him shake his head and grumble to himself.

Obstinate, headstrong girl.

You pause in the hall and spare him a fleeting glance. You point to your own juices with a disgusted finger. “I’m not cleaning that up.”

He rolls his eyes. Figures.

/

DAY TWENTY-TWO—FOUR DAYS LATER

He’s cleaning the contents of the weapons cabinet when you find him in the cargo hold of the ship. 

It’s been a quiet day of traveling, a lonely day of thinking about Grogu and how much he would have liked the Sunder. The Sunder’s flight deck offers more space than on the Razor Crest where the curious boy could wreak havoc. An entire panel of buttons waits for his grabby fingers. A nice couch, too; a place he could rest his head but still be near, never too far from his father. The hallway echoes without the sound of his awkward footsteps or gentle coos, and the galley feels barren without his assorted belongings. And though the ship glides through the stars with a regal air, her head crowned with Din’s achievement of besting Moff Gideon, everything on-board feels… hollow. A puzzle missing a piece, a heart missing a valve, a life without breath.

Din could not stand the swirl of memories and wonderings as he set a course for the next bounty. The disconnected feeling choked him until he imagined himself untethered from his ship, floating through nebulous space, guided by his intense desire to find something or someone to care for again. Grogu—the Child—he gave Din a taste of more than, and now Din starves without it. So, he buried himself here, in the dim cargo hold, gorging himself on the routine motions of prepping his utensils for their next meal. 

You find him sitting on an overturned crate, elbows braced against his knees as he wipes down his beskar spear. Feeling your gaze dig beneath his helmet, he hesitates, cloth rag slowing as he avoids your obvious scrutiny. He imagines you have a host of questions for him, but none of them he wants to answer. The universe has asked too much of him already, and all he needs from you is your focus on the mission at hand and the squeeze of your cunt around his cock from time to time.

Stars, he is so fucking tired.

Sighing, his shoulders slump as he shakes his head. “Scout…” he murmurs, gaze sliding to where you stare at him, clad only in a simple shirt. The butt of the spear clatters against the floor as he loosens his grip.

You take a cautious step forward. “I’ve been waiting for you all day.”

“I’ve been… busy.” Busy—busy avoiding ghostly memories and terrifying inclinations.

Your eyes roam the pile of weapons at his side. “Hmm. Yes, I can see.”

“I didn’t really want you to come down here.” He sits straight and plants a fist on his thigh. Under his helmet, his face hangs heavy, exhaustion turning his eyes gritty. “There’s nothing for you to do right now.”

Simpering, your eyelashes flutter against your cheekbones. “Isn’t there?” Your eyes drop to his crotch, and your tongue peeks out, swiping across your lower lip. “I was waiting for you. Well… your cock, mostly. You haven’t fucked me in a day or so, and I miss it. I want it.”

Oh fuck. Din drops his head back against the wall, and a booming thud reverberates through the ship’s frame. Maker, he can’t resist that soft, girlish admission. How long has it been since he felt wanted for something other than his brawn?

You want him. You want him. Just him and all his human parts. 

Desire flooding his senses, he withdraws his cock from his pants with quick movements, and you scamper across the floor, dropping to your knees between his legs. You slide your palms over his thighs, back and forth, the material rustling in the quiet of the room. He’s half-hard at the thought of you actively wanting him—or at the very least his cock—and when you wrap your fingers around his base, he shoves a short breath through his nose.

“Gods, Mando. I swear you’ve laced this thing,” you say, licking around his tip. “As much as I hate to admit it, it’s the best I’ve ever had.”

His hips shift upwards at the praise, and you grin. You glide him into your hot, dripping mouth. His hands unfurl at his sides. The tense muscles in his back relax; his jaw drops from its tight hold; and the racket in his mind stills, suspended in motion, as you suck his cock, bobbing your head over his length as though you were made to do it. Sparks of pleasure radiate from his core to his limbs, igniting a fire in his belly that will not abate until he floods your mouth with his hot seed.

He swipes his fist around the curtain of hair that falls before your face. He holds it to the side, skimming the thumb of his free hand over the bulge in your mouth as you take him deeper. “Good girl,” he whispers and then, hushed, forbidden: “Make me feel so good.”

You moan as you drag your tongue back to his weeping head. Eyes closed, you angle your face and flutter your lips over his cock as you say, “Always wanna make you feel good like this, Metal Man.” 

It takes everything in him to not cum in response to such a… sweet… confession.

Something feral and wanting, desperate for release, clutches the beating heart in Din’s chest. He needs you; he wants you bad enough he can taste your lips on his. You smell fragrant, and the scent invades his helmet, clogging his head with flower petals and honey. 

With a rough grunt, he jerks your head back, and you pull from his cock with a surprised cry. Staring up at him with wide, confused eyes, he grips your jaw until it lowers. He scoots to the edge of the crate, angling his length at the edge of your mouth, then he thrusts. 

On instinct, you gag. The garbled noise spurs him onward.

“Take it,” he grits. “Take the fuckin’ cock you want so bad.”

He thrusts into your throat with wild abandon. Your mouth is wet, your tongue a devilish fiend along his thick vein. Hollowing your cheeks, you suck as much as you can, but gag more often than not. Spit slides out of both sides of your mouth and hangs off your chin like the jowls of a dog. Your nails bite the flesh at the back of his calves as you hold onto him.

He pulls from your mouth before he can spill down your throat. You gasp for air, choking on spit as you steady yourself. Breathing heavy, he rubs a pool of saliva off of your chin, and you shudder.

He nods to his aching cock. “Finish me off. Just a bit more.” When you hesitate, glancing between his dick and his helmet, he gestures to the hand clutching the hem of your shirt. “Use your hands, sweet girl.”

You nod and sit up, wrapping both hands around his cock, one stacked atop the other. Twisting your wrists in opposite motions, you pull on the flesh of his length. You pump him—up and down, up and down—and the spit lingering from your mouth slap, slap, slaps in the silent hold.

He dips his head back, groaning when you drag the flat of your tongue over his leaking slit as you continue to steadily pump him to orgasm. “Don’t—dank farrik, that feels good,” he mutters. “Don’t stop.”

You hum against his tip, and the vibrations send him over the edge. He spills ropey strings of cum down your throat, shuddering through his orgasm, moisture pricking the corners of his eyes, until you pull off of him. You tap his sensitive tip with your finger, and he hisses, hips drawing inwards.

Grinning, you cock your head with a playful glint in your eye. “See. There’s always something for me to do.”

/

DAY TWENTY-EIGHT—SIX DAYS LATER

The night is old. An inky black sky gives way to a deep blue horizon as, somewhere, the sun lifts its face and begins its ascent. A harsh wind catches the hem of Din’s cape, sweeping it to the side, where it brushes your arm and ignites the last of your frayed nerves like a match to dried kindling. You lengthen your stride with a muttered curse, and Din can’t help but agree:

Two days away from the Sunder in pursuit of a slippery bounty, and he is sick to death of you too. Your incessant mouth, anyway. Your cunt on the other hand… 

The bounty’s head—himself immobile, bloodied, and broken—catches on a jagged stone, and Din turns, his delirious train of thought derailed. He jerks his arm with a frustrated grunt. The bounty skips over the stone, tender flesh at the back of his head torn as a result, and a new trail of blood flows as he skids behind heavy steps. 

Breaking through the edge of Yoiter’s thick forest, Din presses a series of commands on his vambrace when at last, at last, at last his ship comes into view, a shiny beacon in the waxing morning. The loading ramp groans out of sleep as it descends and spills bright yellow light into the ebbing darkness. Two pairs of footsteps and one clunking head trudge up the ramp, silent otherwise, fatigue and sedation rendering all parties mute.

Yet—

All you can offer is a nanosecond of peace—a gift from above, as rare as a Coruscan gem—before unfurling your displeasure. Fucking brat. You don’t know when to quit.

You spin on your heel before Din has the chance to dispose of the bounty in the carbonite chamber. “If I had known your plan included using me as live bait, I might have reconsidered agreeing to it.”

“If I had known you would fuck the plan up, I wouldn’t have tried it.”

“Mando”—you follow him into the hold where he corrals the limp bounty into the freezer—“you could have gotten me killed. They were going to take me to Maker-knows-where and cut me into little bits. And why? Because you were under the impression they wanted girls like me. Not thought they are spawns of some—”

“Dank farrik! Would you shut up?!” 

With shaking fingers—fingers tight with rage and disappointment and some sick sense of relief—Din punches the freezing combination into the control panel and allows the whirring machine to drown out your tirade and his shrieking thoughts. He presses a hand to the chamber’s frame, dropping his head as the freezing cycle’s minute ticks by and your angry breathing subsides. When the control panel beeps, signifying the end of the cycle, he looks up and finds your pinched face.

“I was wrong. My info was wrong. But I wasn’t—I wouldn’t let them hurt you.”

You cross your arms. “You hesitated too much when that one Ga’ark had me.” Tilting your head back, you point to a slash of open flesh on your throat, edges jagged and uneven. “This could have ended badly.”

Averting his eyes, he winces. “Yeah, I suppose it could have.”

“Thank the Maker it didn’t.” You step around him and guide the frozen carbonite block across the overhead track to hang with the others, grumbling as you pass, “Kriffing idiot.”

Turning away from the freezer, he tosses his arms in exasperation. “What do you want me to do?” he asks. “It’s over now, and you can live to drive me insane another day. I said I was wrong.”

“But not that you’re sorry!” 

“I’m not.” The words grind between his teeth, low and gravel-flecked, slingshotting forward to smack you in the face. 

A thick blanket of silence, fringes woven with stubborn pride, turns the perpetually-chilly carbon chamber warm. He eyes you and the cut drawn across the side of your neck. It stopped bleeding on the trek back from wooded mudpits, but it looks painful. He grimaces. You’re right—that could have ended badly. And he’d be at fault.

After a tense moment of reticence, you are first to speak. “Fine, don’t apologize. You can still make it up to me, though. You did almost get me killed. I think it’s the least you can do.” 

He says nothing. No confirmation, no denial. He simply waits, curious as to what you’ll ask of him.

Dropping your hands to your hips, you puff your chest as a wave of confidence lifts you from your beach of self-pity. “Fuck me. Make it better.”

Din almost scoffs in surprise. Of all the things you could have asked of him, this—his cock—is what you want most. Unorthodox. He likes it.

It’s been days since he last fucked you. Hiking through the undergrowth and bracken of Yoiter’s forest offered little in the way of comfort, and he had no time to push you up against the trunk of a mossy tree when hunting after the latest quarry. He aches to pummel his length into your cunt and release the last two days of stress and irritation and discomfort in the dip of your spine. So your request? Your arrogant command that he drive his cock into your pussy in lieu of an apology for his negligence?

Yeah, he can fuck you. Of course he can fuck you.

He shakes his head on a snort. “Bossy little thing.” He stretches out his hand, cocking his head to urge you to come closer. “Come here.”

You close the space between you with a self-satisfied smile and tug your top over your head as you mold your body against his. Your bare skin feels like fire against his armor, and he wonders if you’re always this kriffing warm. 

He drops his hands to the small of your back, giving you a moment—a single moment—of steady contact. Your nipples pebble against his chest-plate, and your slot his thigh between your legs, arms wrapped lazy around his shoulders. The warmth of your cunt creeps through the soft material of your trousers. He can feel your pulse in the unarmored part of his thigh, a hurried thrum of want and desire. 

You hum, eyes fluttering shut as your head draws backwards, exposing the line of your throat and the injury he caused. “You’re so big, Mando,” you whisper. “I like how big you are.”

It’s difficult to keep pride from inflating his chest, so Din focuses on maneuvering you backwards, crowding you into the carbonite freezer inlaid in the bulkhead. Your back hits the wall with a thump, and your eyes open, glossy with lust. It takes a moment, but when you register your new position, a flood of panic douses the hunger devouring your face.

Din lifts a hand to hold your chin. He slides his thumb beneath your lower lip and says, “You’re safe here. I’m not going to do anything to you.” But then he angles his head with a short laugh. “I mean, I’m going to fuck you, but I’m not going to freeze you if that’s what you’re scared of.” 

You inhale, sigh in relief, and his thumb slides deeper in your mouth. You circle your lips and suck. He stifles a grunt.

“Now what was that about how big I am? You like how big my cock is?” 

Glassy look returned to your face, you nod, swirling your tongue over the tip of his thumb, hands searching for his back. You pull him to you, close enough your breasts fold against his armor, squeezed tight. He shuffles and lifts his chest so that your taut nipples drag upwards. On a gasp, you drop his thumb from your mouth.

“Gods, all of you, Mando,” you breathe. Your hands crawl from his back over his shoulders to the cowl at his neck, and he is vaguely aware of your cunt dragging over his thigh as he loses himself to your touch. Slowly—back and forth; your slick dampens his pants. “Your cock, but also your shoulders and your back and your hands. All so big and so broad and… Shit.” 

Smirking, Din shucks your pants to the floor as you praise him. He kicks your feet apart and nudges the fabric away before carding two fingers through your dripping pussy. He finds you wet—flooded and pulsing around his fingertips. Opposite hand braced to the wall above your head, he glances down and watches his fingers disappear between your legs. 

“Damn, girl. You’re soaked.”

“Mmm. You always make me this wet.” You grin, pushing your hips forward. His fingers slip inward with ease. “Now… give me what I want. Fuck me.”

Din doesn’t need to be told twice.

Dragging his fingers from your cunt, he shuffles with the belt at his waist. You move to assist, your fingers scrabbling for purchase between his, but he swats your wrists away. He pushes the waistband of his pants down far enough to let his aching cock spring free, and he pumps himself a few times, moving to angle himself at your entrance.

But you stop him with a hand on his chest. You stare in the direction of the floor, and at first he thinks you’re staring at his cock, but you’ve seen it before, and what’s so different about it now, crowded in the corner of the carbon freezer? It’s only when your hand drops to tease the line of hair descending from his belly button that he realizes.

Fuck. Too much skin. He’s getting sloppy.

“Oh my god. Is that… Is that a tattoo? On your hip? It’s huge! Is it—”

He slaps a hand over your mouth, forcing your head back, before you can say another word.

Holding the base of his cock, he wets himself with your slick then prods your fluttering hole. Your mouth moves against his palm, and he slides his hand away, anchoring himself at your collarbone.

“What?” he bites. 

You pout. “Why do I always have to be naked? You get to leave everything on.”

“This is the Way.” It falls from his mouth before he can think otherwise. The phrase sounds hollow, void of any meaning, but you don’t know that. He won’t tell you that.

“Way schmay.” You huff, irritated, but lift your legs to wrap around his back anyway. The adjustment sends the head of his cock forward, stretching your cunt around his girth; and though your eyes roll skyward in response, your tongue keeps complaining. “I want to feel your hands.”

He pauses, and something in his chest lurches. He wants… He wants to feel your hands too.

Shoving the desire aside, he plunges forward, impaling your tight core around his cock. You squeak and slap a palm against the side of the chamber, mouth gone slack. He grits his teeth, grinding his hips against yours.

“Is this not enough for you?”

Withdrawing once, he thrusts again. He holds himself within you, studying the wrecked expression of your face, until you squirm, writhing against him.

“Oh fuck. Okay. It’s enough. Forget I said anything. Keep going, keep going. Please.” 

He complies with ease, jerking his cock into your cunt until you are a slobbering mess. He drives into you without reserve. He welcomes your warm, sticky, wanton embrace, and he fucks you hard. Fucks you until you forget about his screw up with the Ga’arks. Fucks you until you forget about the tattoo on his hip, the one you were never supposed to see. Fucks you until you forget about ever wanting anything more from him than what he has already given.

He fucks you until you are screaming his name, and it clatters through the hold like an anthem.

Mando—Mando—Mando.

Not his name. He fucks you harder. 

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you bend your face into his neck as you tremble. Your hips cant upwards in a sloppy rhythm. Somewhere beneath the surface, you’re close. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Your hot breath tickles the skin of his neck where his cowl has slipped, and he moans, pausing long enough to grind against your mound. He grips the underside of your thighs with a ferocious pinch of his fingers. “Go on,” he growls. “Fuckin’ cum. Cum.”

With a final thrust, you break on a sob. Your tight walls squeeze and release, squeeze and release, as you drench him with your orgasm. He stutters, thrusts turning shallow and weak as you ride your high. But he’s close behind. You need only clench around him, murmur a request to feel his cum on your belly, for him to tear out of you with a strangled groan and pump himself to completion. He oozes over your belly, milky strands of cum dripping to tangle in the hair over your cunt.

You smile and raise an eyebrow. “I think that makes us even, then. You are forgiven.”

//

DAY THIRTY—COURSE SET: NEVARRO

You lunge out of your bedroll as if woken from a nightmare. Fragmented horrors, dripping with fear and loss, writhe in the back of your mind like rotting slugs. You crawl after them, chest heaving as you pull yourself through the fading memories, the screams and the smell of ash and—

“We’re going back to Nevarro.”

This time you jump from your bedroll with a startled inhale, taking your blaster with you. Fearful tears blurring your vision, you unclick the safety and aim. Fuck—it’s them, isn’t it? Back for more and ready to plunge you beneath the dirt beside your long-dead sister. Well, not today. Not fucking likely. You’d rather—

“Scout.” A gloved palm settles on your cheek and tilts your face upwards. You blink away the haze of terror and adrenaline when a thumb swipes away an errant tear. A mountain of silver builds before your eyes, and a deep voice uproots your frozen thoughts. “It’s me.”

You register him at last, relief flooding your senses. Just Mando; only Mando.

“Oh.” Lowering your blaster, you step back. Mando’s hand falls from your face. “I was dreaming about my… family… I think.” You scrub a hand down your face, ashamed to feel a line of tears on your cheek. “What did you say when you came in?”

Mando remains quiet, watching you through the dark visor, before he says, “We’re going to Nevarro. We need to unload the crap in the hull and get new pucks.” Hand flexing at his side, he takes a step toward the door. “Clean yourself up. We’ll be there in an hour.”

You’re too busy gathering scattered belongings from the floor to notice Mando pause at the door and watch you over his shoulder. 

/

It is only after supper with Karga—local delicacies: purple ram’s tongue and watercress salad—that you find a moment alone. Your host pulls Mando into a side room on the promise of a quick return, and you wave them off with a flick of your wrist. There are dishes to be cleaned, new bounties to study, a morning of panic to revisit. Solitude might do your weary mind well.

Gathering the plates and serving dishes, you busy yourself at the sink. Warm water rushes over your hands, easing the thoughts whirling in your head to a gentle sway. You grab a rag, a bar of soap, and set to lathering.

Your dream… 

Home—Inora, the wheat field your father planted with his own hands burnt to a crisp, Jeelia. It seems your mind finds amusement in dredging the past from the mud and throwing it in your face. You are powerless against the memories and so you flounder, sinking beneath the bubbling mudpit like hapless prey.

What became of your mother? Your father? Did they live to see another day? You wouldn’t know. You were too cowardly to turn back when you stole the escape pod and flew to safety. As desperately as you miss home, as desperately as you wonder about the fate of your loved ones, your hasty actions force you to remain adrift in space. That is your punishment: exile. You embrace it; you deserve it.

Sniffing hard, you rub a fresh track of tears off of your chin with your shoulder, scrubbing the dried sauce from the main dish’s serving plate. 

And Mando… Stars, he held your cheek and wiped away your tears as though he cared. It sets your stomach to a boil. He shouldn’t—he can’t—touch you like that. You hate him, and he hates you, and he might’ve seen you wake from a nightmare for the second time now, but he cannot caress your cheek. You’ll let him fuck you raw, but nothing more. If ever you let him slip beneath your stony cover, he could wind up dead too. Just like the rest of—

“Mind if I dry?”

The knife in your hand slips at Karga’s sudden voice, narrowly missing the flesh of your palm. Lifting your face, you meet Karga’s guilty cringe with a hard stare. He just shrugs, reaches for a towel on the counter, and points to the stack of dishes beside you.

“So can I?”

“Yeah… thanks.”

For a moment, you work in silence, an unlikely pair. You do not feel Mando’s presence swallow the narrow kitchen, and you do not care enough to ask Karga where the brute has wandered off to. You imagine he needs his own space. After thirty days on the Sunder, each other the only company save a few stiffs in the hull, Nevarro’s moderately-fresh air and open landscape is a welcome change of pace.

You break the quiet with a question that has lingered in the back of your mind since Daos-Seven. With calculated movements, you pull the plug at the base of the sink, careful not to appear too eager. The dirty water spirals as it drains, tornadoing down the rusted, exposed pipes.

You grab a plate from Karga’s dry stack and slide across the room to place it on the shelf. “So, what is this about Mando having a kid?”

To your surprise, Karga does not sputter or deflect. He does not even look over his shoulder in alarm. He simply continues wiping down a bowl, nodding to himself. “Ah. The womp rat.”

You frown. “Womp rat?”

With a sigh, Karga lowers the bowl and turns around. He braces his hands on the counter and meets your inquisitive gaze with a tired, weary one of his own. The look pulls your curiosity to a screeching halt. First the stuffed animal, then Mando saying he was a father, now Karga’s glum expression. If you didn’t know any better, you might assume something tragic befell the Mandalorian in another life.

“I shouldn’t be the one to tell you that story,” he says.

Rolling your eyes, you return to the counter and take another plate. “You’re just as secretive as him. Why does everything have to be hidden?”

Karga shrugs. “This is—”

You lift a hand, turning your back. “Don’t say it.”

Quiet—thick quiet. You keep your back turned to your host.

“What happened between you two? Something is different. I could tell as soon as you got off of that ship. I may be old, but I’m not blind.”

“Nothing.” The plate you return to the shelf drops with a mite too much force, and you wince as you turn. “I mean we fuck,” you say, ignoring Karga’s raised eyebrows. “But he makes me sleep on the goddamn floor. Does that answer your question?”

“He what?” The old man pushes away from the counter. “The floor? I don’t think he should—”

“There is no telling the Mandalorian what he should or should not do. He shouldn’t be fucking me yet he is, and that’s that.”

“Still…” Karga says your name as you make for the side exit, and you stiffen. How long has it been since you heard your true name? Too long. You hate it now. “I’ll talk to him.”

You grab an oversized jacket from a peg on the wall and shrug it over your shoulders. The collar smells like spiced tobacco and gun grease, one scent a singular remnant of your father. Twisting the knob, you push open the door and allow a sharp breeze to cut the stifled air of the room. You stare into the darkness before offering Karga a smile.

“Don’t bother. The floor is fine for a girl like me,” you say. “Anyway, if he asks, I’ve gone for a walk. I’ll be back.”

/

It is well past midnight when you return from your ambling stroll. Your cheeks are chilled, your hands stuffed deep in the jacket’s pockets. You walked without purpose, without thought, and the open, starlit sky guided you through the back alleys and passageways of Nevarro’s center. The exercise cleared your mind, gave you a moment to recenter yourself. You began this bounty hunting journey to bring scoundrels to justice, and for the memory of your family, you must continue.

Perhaps… This is the Way… 

You find Mando outside of Karga’s hut, a canvas bag slung over his shoulder. He drops his current conversation with a nod before turning to face you. He leans against the doorframe, irritatingly cavalier. 

“Ready to go?”

Lips folded in a line, you nod.

Mando shakes Karga’s hand then treks for the city gate. He does not pause to see if you follow, and when the action needles your chest, you wince. Karga brushes your arm, and you look away from the silver ghost’s retreating form.

“Have a good walk?”

“Yeah. Thanks for dinner, by the way. It was a nice break from the rehydrated shit Metal Man gives me.”

Karga grins. “Any time.”

“I should probably follow before he leaves me here.”

Before you can exit the halo of light surrounding Karga’s front door, he calls your name, and you glance over your shoulder. The old man lifts a hand in farewell. “I’ll see you again soon.”

Chin to chest, you make your way from Nevarro’s walls to the lava field where the Sunder waits for your muted footsteps. Through the hull and up the turbolift, ignoring the whirr of the engines as you pass along the empty annex. It is only when you reach the galley door you remember: you forgot to return Karga his jacket.

“Fuck,” you mutter. 

You spin on your heel, but there is nowhere for you to go, nowhere for you to return the stolen property. The Sunder is already in her takeoff patterns, and Mando—he barrs the way, your bedroll tucked beneath his arm as he blocks the hall exit. Your heart clenches as dread freezes it to ice. 

“What are you doing? Why are you holding that?” You reach out for your belongings, but he twists to the side to keep the items out of your grasp. “Give that to me!”

“Come here.” 

Mando side steps you, his footfalls hard as he heads for the end of the corridor. You drag yourself in a circle to follow him. A day of wearisome travel, poor sleep, and too many unanswered questions threatens to break your resolve. You swallow the lump that rises to your throat.

“Mando, those are my things! What are you doing—”

He pushes the control panel of the room opposite his own, and the door opens on a whoosh. Tossing your things inside, he gestures with a sweep of his hand. “It’s yours.”

One second—two—three—

You gape. “What?”

“The room. Take it. You shouldn’t… sleep on the floor. You aren’t a dog.”

Try as you might, you cannot suppress the tears which flood your vision, a tumultuous blend of relief and gratitude and heartbreak clawing at your insides. You rush past, face lowered, a quiet thank you all you can give before you collapse in a puddle of your own making or he can rescind the offer. 

“Wait…” You swipe at your cheeks, clearing your throat before Mando disappears across the hall. “Where are we going? Which bounty are we going after first? I was taking notes when we were—”

“We aren’t going after a bounty yet.” Mando steps out of your doorway and presses a combination into the control panel. As the door slides shut, he says, “We’re going to see my son.”

NEXT CHAPTER

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I'm sorry but i'm addicted to our boy Spamton- I have a little unique request here. So this takes place where Spamton just moves in the Queen's mansion, he meets the reader and immediately falls for their kind words and gestures. Weeks pass, and he goes to see them, but catches them talking and hanging out with Swatch.. He gets really jealous to the point of changing his style to match Swatch's

"Oh [y/n]! Have You Met Our Newest Guest?"

"Uh, I don't believe-"

"He's An Interesting Addison Who Made A Big Name For Himself! Ohohoho!" Queen laughed joyously, pausing to sip her glass of battery acid. "I Wonder How He Got So Rich...No Matter. As My Peon, I Order You Greet Him......Whenever It's Convenient For You."

"Sure thing. I'll go now." With a respectful nod, you set off to the mansion's guest chambers to meet this newcomer. You've lived here for a long time--and somewhat reluctantly since Queen decided to make you one of her peons one day. But life was actually pretty good.

It wasn't like you had anything better to do, so if she needed someone to help her with plans that..didn't seem all-that urgent, you'll offer your assistance. She let you stay in the mansion for free and never made you do anything if you weren't feeling up to it.

For a tyrannical ruler she was rather kind.

Yet you didn't wanna take advantage of her hospitality, so you'd just listen to whatever she says. And if she wants you to meet this celebrity as part of her endless lists of requests, then you'll happily oblige. But you were eager too since you've seen his face on TV a lot. It felt like an honor.

After wandering the corridors of deactivated puzzles, Mona Lisa-esque portraits, and meticulously-placed pottery, you finally arrived at the guest rooms. You hummed a small tune as you passed by each one, stopping when you noticed one door was open.

Peeking inside, you saw the Addison still setting up things. A phone was tucked between his shoulder and ear as he moved a box whilst rambling to whoever was on the other end of the line.

"Yea! I promise I won't let you down, okay? Soon I'll be bigger than ever before! I know I'm already a big shot but....haha, yeah, I shouldn't get carried away. Okay. Right..we'll discuss more of this tomorrow. Thanks!"

After hanging up the phone and returning it to the receiver, he finally noticed you and smiled. "Hey, hey! Haven't seen your face around here yet. But surely you know mine, right?"

"Yeah." You smiled, not wanting to shy away from talking with him. "Spamton, right?"

"Everybody's favorite number-one rated salesman!!" He laughed. "It's good you know me..'cuz soon ALL of Cyber World will know my name! It's a pleasure to meet you...?"

"[Y/n]. I'm one of Queen's peons." You shook his hand politely. The energy that radiated from him was so bright. Just as much as his pearly smile was.

Stepping inside, you glanced around at the luxurious furniture. He definitely got the higher-class rooms, with the addition of a large window that showed the neon green meridians that stretched across the night sky. It was certainly a beautiful view to fall asleep to. "Need help unpacking?"

"Oh--sure!!" At first Spamton seemed surprised by your offer, but he nodded. "If you want, be my guest. And while we unpack, I gotta ask you..how's it being Queen's peon?"

............

Weeks passed, and you've gotten to know Spamton more and more. You realized he was actually a sweet down-to-earth guy all around. Although he was on the phone a lot, he'd make time to hang out with you, so you two became fast friends.

He was truly living the best life. Posters of his car advertisements were littered all over the city, and the Swatchlings attended to his every need. Though one thing was hard to admit, even when it seemed like he had it all:

You were his only friend now that everyone else is intimidated by his status--as they would shy away from conversing with him--and the Addisons, well, abandoned him out of jealousy.

Obviously that made him worry about driving you away, especially when he's on the phone nonstop. But...the fact you've been so kind to him in every word and gesture, treating him like a regular person and not some untouchable celebrity, was quite endearing. Most admired him for his products, not his personality.

Your kindness made him fall for you hard and fast, ever since day one. He wasn't sure if this was a good idea; to let it get in the way of his business.

But what the hell? He was a big shot! He can afford to go a bit bigger and take more risks. Living in this mansion with someone who loved him would be the perfect dream.

There was a much bigger dream that his valued caller insisted he focused on, but that can come later.

So this morning, Spamton set out to find you to address these feelings once and for all. Yet he was rather nervous. Addisons were most confident in selling products, not so much...everything else. But he didn't wanna back down. He kept smiling no matter what.

As he checked inside the color café that he usually frequented, he saw you eating at the table. He noticed you weren't alone but with Swatch, talking and...

Laughing with them?

And just like that, his smile faded much like his hope.

Of course, the head butler had their ways to swoon people. He tried not to think of it as anything more than just their personality. It's just their way to entice returning customers.

That's all...right?

Spamton ducked behind one of the displays, listening in on your conversation to determine if he should proceed or not.

"By the way, we've known each other for a while and..I've always wanted to ask you something.."

"Yes? What is your inquiry?"

He held his breath. This is exactly what he feared. Knowing that you've been here longer, it's obvious you'd be closer to that damn bird-

"Your outfit."

Then he exhaled shakily, relieved. 'What are you getting so worked up for, idiot?' He thought in the back of his mind, but he continued eavesdropping.

"Did the Queen make it or give it to you? It's very stylish and really makes you stand out from the other Swatchlings."

"Ah, in fact I decided this look for myself." Swatch chuckled softly, raising a wing to adjust their glasses. "The tailor did marvelous work with my vision: black suit, tinted glasses. Very fashionable, is it not?"

"It is. I like it a lot."

"Why thank you. I see why our Lady Grace admires you. Just for that compliment, I'll give you a discount on any of our products in the gift shop."

"Should be every day if you ask me." You joked, earning another chuckle from them.

Seeing all of this and the way you two spoke like close friends was a jab in Spamton's heart-shaped object. 'So [y/n] likes people who stand out? Well I can stand out, too..' He thought bitterly as he stormed out of the shop without either of you knowing he was there.

Why should he settle with being a blank-slate Addison like the rest of them? He didn't consider himself one anymore.

Today, he told his valued caller, he was gonna be a whole new person.

It would help him get closer to both of his dreams, but there was only one on his mind now.

............

Later that night as you were getting ready for bed, you heard a knock at the door. You huffed in annoyance, assuming Queen needed you for something.

She had a knack for disturbing you at ungodly hours. But knowing better than to ignore her, you went to answer the door anyways-

To some strange black-haired guy in a black suit and white turtleneck sweater.

"Hi, um...can I help you?"

"[Y/n]? It's me."

"....wait....Spamton?"

"Yeah!" The salesman laughed, throwing his arms out and making a pose. "Whatdya think of me now?"

Perplexed, you looked him up and down. He ditched the lime-green pants, instead wearing white trousers. And his hair was slicked back. But what was most peculiar about him were his glasses, tinted with pink and yellow lenses.

Had you not known any better, you would've thought Swatch suddenly shrunk and became robotized.

"Cool but..you kinda look like Swatch a little bit. Was that on purpose?" You mused.

"...haha....yeah uh..funny story. Um.." He dropped the act, losing his trademark grin as he wondered how to explain himself and this sudden transformation. You could tell he wanted to talk inside the room, so you let him in and shut the door.

"I don't recall Queen mentioning any costume contest-"

"It's not a costume." He muttered, uncomfortably rubbing his hands together as he looked at you with sadness. "This is who I am now. The new me."

"..huh? You serious?" When he nodded, you frowned slightly. "I'm confused. You don't look like an Addison anymore-"

"That's the point...! I...I don't wanna be associated with them anymore. I decided to stand out, y'know? If you're gonna be a big shot, ya gotta stand out from the crowd!" He forced a laugh that sounded rather glitchy.

You didn't buy it. It wasn't like him to do this out of the blue.

"Spamton, why imitate Swatch of all people? And why out of the blue like this? I mean..I don't mind if you like their style. But I didn't even recognize you until you spoke."

Try as he might, he couldn't make any better excuses. So seeing that he was cornered made him finally admit his jealousy, overhearing your conversation with Swatch while he was browsing--when he really wasn't, but he didn't wanna come off as creepy.

His voice glitched further due to stress, accidentally blurting out some kind of...flirtatious term as he explained how much you meant to him since day one.

You weren't sure if he meant to say "hot single" on purpose. Though you were flattered that such a famous guy like him...actually had a crush on you, an ordinary Darkner who just fetched the Queen's stick wherever she threw it.

You found it hard to believe he thought of you that way..so you kept your own feelings buried. So to see that it's mutual was a relief, and it made you smile.

Spamton, on the other hand, was stressing the hell out. So much so he didn't even see your smile. He just saw himself being stupid the more he rambled on.

It was such a stupid, stupid reason to get insecure--to the point of changing his entire appearance without warning. All because you were friends with a butler who was doing their job???

How selfish can he get when he already had everything he wanted and more?

When he did acknowledge your small smile, he thought you were holding yourself back from laughing. But you had every right to laugh and call him a joke for thinking this will get your attention.

As he finished talking, he could see your smile fade and huffed. He waited for you to tell him how stupid he looks and to go back to being the plain old Addison you met.

Instead of ridiculing him you...hugged him?

At this point you were sitting on the bed together. Of course yours wasn't as massive as his was, but it was big enough for you two to share.

"Spammy, I'm flattered you like me in that way but...you didn't have to do all of this to get my attention. I promise there's nothing going on between Swatch and I. We're just friends. They're not replacing you or anything."

"I know, it's just.." Taking off the glasses, he set them aside before hugging you tightly, head buried in your chest. "I don't wanna lose the only person in this damn place who makes me feel like myself. Who loves me for me, not my success. And...I-I felt like I had to change something about myself to make sure of that."

"Well..you don't need to change anymore. I love you no matter what you look like."

He blinked, his face turning as red as his cheeks.

You could sense his embarrassment from the way he tensed up in your arms and chuckled, patting his hair softly. "Just..don't feel pressured to change for me..or anybody for that matter, okay? Or at least let me know if you're gonna change things up again."

"You don't think..I look stupid or creepy like this?"

"No. Honestly you look pretty handsome. Black hair suits you well."

Hearing those words made him breathe a small sigh of relief. He nodded and hugged you tighter.

His new looks were staying for good.

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Stalker (Ending A) (L.MH)

Warnings : swearing, mentions of one night stands, partying, alcohol

Word Count : 6210

Synopsis : he saw her everywhere he was, so the only logical conclusion is that she’s stalking him. he finally had enough and confronted her, but she had no idea who hyunjin was. he refused to listen to her until lee minho came to her rescue, effectively shutting hyunjin up. it was a small lie that made him face feelings he didn’t expect, and began a love triangle no one thought possible. but little did they know, she only had eyes for her best friend.

Author’s Note : i’m back! and while i was gone, i wrote a lot of new imagines. figured i’d start posting again, starting with this hyunjin/minho imagine. hyunjin’s ending will be up tomorrow!

He had never seen her before, but suddenly she was everywhere. Every party, every café, absolutely everywhere, and Hyunjin couldn’t help but think she was stalking him. What other explanation could there be to her being at every place she was at?

At first, he thought it was adorable. He saw her as an adoring fan just working up the courage to talk to him. But when he spotted her across the room with her phone up, seemingly taking pictures of her, he had enough. He stormed over to her, slamming his half full cup on a nearby table before grabbing her phone from her hands, causing her to look up at him with a look of annoyance. “Give it back.”

“Stop taking pictures of me! Stop stalking me! I’m tired of seeing your face everywhere.” He yelled, holding her phone up in the air so she couldn’t reach it. She crossed her arms across her chest as her brows furrowed together, confused as to why this stranger would think she was following him.

“There’s got to be a misunderstanding.” She tried to explain, but he interrupted her, telling her not to make excuses, saying he had caught her red-handed taking pictures of him. “Look at my phone, dude.” He brought it closer to her face, seeing that the camera was not open, but a text conversation was, the last text sent asking where this person was.

Before either one of them could say anything else, someone draped their arm across her shoulders, causing both of them to meet the eyes of Lee Minho, leader of the dance team. “Is there an issue?” Minho asked, pulling the girl closer to his body. She was too much in shock at the situation to push herself away from him.

“Yes. This girl is stalking me!” Hyunjin exclaimed, earning an eye roll from the girl tucked into Minho’s side.

“You mean my girlfriend?” The crowd that was beginning to gather gasped at the new information, whispers quickly erupting from the crowd. “I can assure you she isn’t stalking you, Hyunjin. Babe, are you stalking Hyunjin?” His attention moved from Hyunjin to the girl he claimed was his girlfriend.

“I don’t even know who he is if I’m honest.” She shrugged, looking from Minho to Hyunjin, who now seemed embarrassed by the amount of people surrounding them. “Can I have my phone back now?” Hyunjin slowly slid the phone into her open hand, quietly apologizing to the mystery girl, the girl apparently dating Minho, a man he looks up to. “You didn’t have to do that.” She told Minho after Hyunjin walked away and the crowd dispersed, enjoying the party.

“Hyunjin’s a dick, he deserved to be put in his place. He thinks he’s all that and that girls fall at his feet; this was a well-deserved reality check.” Minho smiled. “I’m guessing you were looking for a friend?” She nodded, looking to see if Jisung had responded to her text to no avail.

“Looks like he’s probably wrapped up with something else.” She mumbled hoping Minho wouldn’t hear, but he did.

“Looks like I’m your company for the night.” He smiled as he pulled her towards the kitchen where the drinks were laid out on the counter. “Pick your poison.” He joked. His smile was intoxicating to her, almost addictive and she didn’t want to look away. She had heard of the infamous dance team leader, Lee Minho, but their paths never crossed before tonight. And she could see why he was so popular.

He was handsome in a way she’d never seen before. He looked like the kind of guy that was cold and aloof, but when he smiled at her, her heart felt safe. Like she could share her deepest secrets with him, and he would take them to the grave, not uttering a word of them to anyone.

She was addicted to the scent wafting off of him into her nose, a very natural and clean scent, different than other guys with their overwhelming cologne. As the two talked the whole night, she found herself not wanting to leave, now understanding how all the girls easily fall for his charms.

He was notorious around the university for being charming without even trying; girls flocking towards him, but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. But he was standing in front of her, all of his attention on her, his eyes not leaving her, not even when people around them were calling his name. He was intrigued by this girl he had never seen before and wanted to learn more.

Minho wanted to learn everything about this mystery girl, but he didn’t know why. He wanted to learn her likes and dislikes. Her pet peeves and things she does when she feels stressed. Does she have any pets? What are her parents like? What’s her major? There were so many things to learn, but a party didn’t seem like the right place to ask hard hitting questions. He wanted to spend as long as he could in her presence, learning about her, but even eternity didn’t seem like long enough.

He wasn’t sure what came over him; no other girl ever made him feel like this. None of his ex-girlfriends made him this curious. Was it the way she didn’t fall at Hyunjin’s feet like every other girl at this school? Maybe it was the way she laughed at all his jokes, even the bad ones. The way her lips upturned as her smiled widened before her mouth opened, letting out a laugh that Minho could listen to for years and not get tired of.

She was confident in the way she carried herself, but not in a cocky way. She held eye contact as they spoke, not shying away when he complimented her. It was like she knew she was beautiful and didn’t need anyone to tell her. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he pretended it wasn’t and tried to hold conversation as normal. Is this what the people call love at first sight?

Before either of them knew it, the music was turned off. The house that was once filled with people, was near empty as a few drunk stragglers stayed behind, waiting for someone to help them home. “Oh wow, is it 4 in the morning already?” Minho asked, looking down at his phone that was apparently blowing up the entire time he was with Y/N, and he had no idea. He was so entranced by her beauty he didn’t feel the vibrations coming from his pocket. “Let me take you home.” She quickly agreed, loving the idea of spending more time with him. He placed his hand on her lower back as he led her out of the house and to his car parked down the street.

The two made conversation the entire drive, they didn’t even realize there was no music playing. Not even a second of silence was shared between them as their connection seemed to grow stronger. “Thank you.” She told him as they pulled up to her apartment building.

“Can I get your number? I’d really like to see you again.” She smiled, holding out her hand for his phone that he happily handed over.

“I suppose it’s the least I could do seeing as we’re apparently dating.” For what seemed like the millionth time that night, a blush crept up onto his cheeks as he took his phone back. “I hope to see you soon, Minho.” With that, she left his car and headed up to her apartment.

Had her heart not already belonged to her best friend, Han Jisung, she would have kissed him. She was hardly ever one to sit idly by and allow her feelings to go unsaid, except when it came to Han Jisung, school playboy.

Just as Minho was notorious, Jisung was as well. Jisung was a womanizer, and he loved it. Y/N was there whenever he needed help getting away from a one-night stand who wanted more. In fact, that’s why she was everywhere Hyunjin seemed to be. Jisung would invite her to parties he was invited to so she was close in case he needed her. He would call her to cafes he invited the women to if they weren’t gone when he woke up, seemingly as a nice gesture. But Y/N would be there to act like the jealous, angry girlfriend, either scaring off the girl or dragging Jisung out and effectively getting him away.

If Hyunjin paid more attention, he would see that she never noticed him. Her eyes were trained on the door, looking for the one man that gave her butterflies. He would notice the tears in her eyes as she once again acted like a girlfriend catching her boyfriend cheating. He would see how her face lit up when Jisung’s attention was trained on her instead of someone else. How her cheeks would turn a pretty pink colour when he would wrap his arms around her. If Hyunjin just paid a little more attention, he would see that she only ever had eyes for Han Jisung.

She woke up the next morning when her phone rang with Jisung’s familiar ringtone. “Regular café.” Was all he said before he hung up. She begrudgingly got herself out of bed, throwing on a simple outfit and making herself look presentable. If only her heart didn’t belong to Han Jisung, maybe she could tell him no.

She sat at her regular table, looking at her phone and glancing at the door every time the bell above it chimed. Tears pricked her eyes when Jisung walked in, his arm draped across the beautiful girls shoulders, his famous smile dancing across his lips. She watched from her spot as they got into the growing lineup, talking about something. She was so focused on the two of them, she didn’t notice her phone going off in her hands until it was too late and the call went to voicemail.

She waited until Jisung and the girl sat at a table before making her move. She stormed over to their table, her iced coffee in hand. Jisung’s eyes widened when he saw her, playing the part of a boyfriend just caught cheating. “Who are you?” She asked, allowing her voice to crack just enough to make her seem heartbroken. The girl looked between her and Jisung, confused as to what was going on. “I’m asking who you are! What are you doing with my boyfriend?” She tried to keep her voice low and even, not wanting to disturb other peoples day with her fake drama.

“Oh my god, I had no idea!” The girls eyes widened as she stood from the table, her hands up in surrender. “I swear I thought he was single. Jisung, you need to treat your girlfriend better!” She turned her attention to the man at the table. “I’m so sorry. You deserve better.” With that, the girl took her leave, allowing Y/N to sit at the table and Jisung to relax.

“You’re seriously the best friend ever.” She was silent as she nodded, staring at the text on her phone from Minho. “So I heard you’re dating Minho? Think he’d be okay that you act like my girlfriend sometimes?” Jisung chuckled, trying to lighten the sour mood.

“I’m not a huge fan.” Jisung spun around in his chair, his eyes meeting Minho’s. She smiled when she saw him, ushering him to join them.

“It’s nothing major, dude. She just says she’s my girlfriend to shake off one-night stands that want more. You know how it is.” Jisung shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee.

“No, I don’t know how it is.” Minho’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Jisung, not liking this guy one bit. He hated this guy more than he disliked Hyunjin. Minho had never met a more appalling human being. He could see the heartbreak written all over her face, knowing her feelings for Jisung were more than platonic. Jisung had this beautiful, kind-hearted girl right in front of him, ready to give him the world, and he treated her like trash. Yet she stayed by his side, bending to his every whim. “Hope you don’t mind if I steal her for the rest of the day though. We have plans.” She happily stood from the table and followed Minho outside, not even waiting for Jisung’s answer.

He wanted to get her out of there, away from the man who seemed to break her heart more and more everyday. “Looks like you’re my knight in shining armour once again.” She smiled as the two fell into a similar rhythm as they walked beside each other. He didn’t want to be her knight in shining armour, he wanted to be her prince. He wanted to be the one that made her excited for the day ahead. “How can I repay you?” Silence fell over them when she asked that question. Minho stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed her hand, pulling her close to him.

“Date me.” He said. “Pretend to be my girlfriend for three months to make it believable. I’ll help you get over Han Jisung.” She didn’t even question how he knew, knowing they had a connection that was undeniable ever since they met last night.

“What would you get out of it?” She giggled, wondering why a man who was still practically a stranger would want to help her with a task that seemed impossible.

“I’d get to bring you to the dance studio to annoy Hyunjin.” He made up a lie on the spot, knowing that just getting to call her his girlfriend would be enough for him. The satisfaction of helping her heal her heart would absolutely be enough for him.

She didn’t even have to think about it and agreed almost immediately. Maybe Minho is exactly what she needs to move passed these unrequited feelings she’s had since high school.

They just stood there, staring into each other’s eyes, absolutely entranced by the other’s beauty, and without realizing it, they both were leaning in. Their lips met in the middle in a feverish kiss filled with passion and lust. He put everything he could in the kiss, hoping to silently show her his true feelings. She melted into the kiss, knowing now for certain that Lee Minho is exactly what she needed.

As promised, Minho invited her to the dance studio a few days later. She decided to pick up food on the way, knowing everyone would be hungry after practice. She made her way through the maze of dance studios in the performing arts building, bags of food in her hands and an excited smile on her face. Quietly, she opened the door, Minho immediately noticing her and stopping whatever he was doing. The other dancers turned to see what caught their leaders attention. Hyunjin rolled his eyes when he saw her, annoyed that she was officially showing up absolutely everywhere he went, the dance studio no longer an escape.

Minho walked towards her, taking the bags from her hands, and pressing a quick kiss to her lips and ushering her to the front of the room where he was standing previously. “Let’s take a quick break to eat the food my girlfriend brought for us.”  

They all sat in a circle, joking, and eating. Minho could barely keep his eyes off of her. She would meet his eyes every so often, only looking away to give attention to whoever was talking.

But if they paid closer attention, they would notice another set of eyes that couldn’t seem to look away from her. Hyunjin wondered what seemed different about her today that seemed to draw him in so much. Maybe it was the obvious kindness she possessed, buying the entire team food without ever meeting them before. Maybe it was the way she seemed to glow unlike the dull lifelessness she showed the other times he noticed her. Her smile was wide and her eyes seemed to sparkle, as if someone put stars in her eyes. She possessed a beauty he hadn’t noticed before, and he could feel the jealousy build in his chest every time she looked at Minho the way he wanted her to look at him.

Hyunjin found himself wanting to get closer to her, but he did his best to hide it. He laughed at the stories she told them, their eyes meeting for a brief second each time. And when the food was eaten and it was time to go over the routine one more time, he found himself putting his all into impressing her. Minho was the leader, but Hyunjin wanted to be the center of attention, the center of her attention.

She was amazed at the beautiful choreography that Minho put together, but her eyes seemed to drift towards Hyunjin. He seemed completely entranced in the music and his body moved as if it was a liquid. It was impossible to look away from Hyunjin when he danced; he looked so ethereal and she could finally see why so many girls begged for his attention. She would too had her heart not belonged to Jisung.

“Amazing.” She exclaimed with a wide smile, and Minho wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Hyunjin wished that was him. He watched from afar as she went on and on about the choreography, saying that Minho did such a great job. “Everyone did incredible!” She clapped her hands together, everyone’s attention now on her as they thanked her for not only her kind words, but the food she brought earlier.

“I hope she comes around more! I like her company, hyung.” Another one of the members, Felix, exclaimed with a smile that seemed to mirror hers.

“If no one minds, I’m sure she’ll come to more practices.” Minho beamed; his arm now draped across her shoulders. Flashbacks of the party came to Hyunjin’s mind, and he felt embarrassed all over again.

She snuck away from Minho while he was caught up in a conversation with a couple of the guys from the team. “You were really amazing, Hyunjin.” He was slightly startled when he heard her voice. “You looked absolutely ethereal and so in your element, it was hard to look away.” She admitted, her eyes not leaving his. He saw the confidence she carried herself with that made Minho fall for her so easily.

“Thank you.” His gratitude was sincere, and she could tell by the way his cheeks burned red. “I’m really sorry about what I said at the party.” She shook her head.

“The past is the past, don’t worry about it.” He could see why she was the girl Minho let his guard down too. She was the kind of girl you don’t encounter twice in a lifetime. She was the kind of girl you hold on to and hope she doesn’t let go. Hyunjin could tell families must adore her and wish for her as a daughter-in-law. And he wondered once again how he had never seen her before. She was the kind of girl that stood out in a crowd, not because she was the most beautiful, but because she had a glow to her that seemed to have a magnetic pull.

“I’ll see you around.” He didn’t want to walk away, but he would do something he would regret if he didn’t. Hyunjin wasn’t a homewrecker, even if it meant losing the perfect girl.

“Ready to go?” Minho asked as Hyunjin walked away. She smiled up at him, nodding. If he could, Minho would buy the world and gift it to her, that’s how much he had fallen for her in such a short amount of time.

Once again she found herself sitting at her regular table at the regular café, her eyes trained on the door, waiting for Jisung to walk through with whatever girl he was with this time. She didn’t feel as heartbroken as she did before, this last month with Minho helping more than she thought possible. Honestly, she felt more annoyed than anything. It was like Jisung didn’t call to hang out anymore, only to request her assistance. She wondered where the sweet and loveable Jisung from high school disappeared to, and who this fuckboy was that replaced him.

As she waited, she didn’t notice Hyunjin watching her from afar, wondering who she was waiting for with such an angry look on her face. He could see her biting her lip as her leg bounced, and he knew it wasn’t Minho. She was never anxious like this around Minho. He seemed to bring out the best in her. He noticed her glow was once again dull, and his curiosity was growing as each second passed.

When the bell chimed and her leg stopped bouncing, he looked towards the door to see the infamous Han Jisung. Was she waiting for him? What was her business with the fuckboy of campus? He watched as she watched Jisung sit down across from another girl, and she stood to make her way to him. Hyunjin stood as well, grabbing her by the wrist before she could approach the table Jisung sat at. “What are you doing?” He asked, concern in his eyes.

“Something I always do.” She replied, snatching her wrist back and approaching Jisung. Hyunjin watched from afar, ready to jump in if anything were to go wrong.

Since the campus knew of her and Minho’s relationship, she had to take a new approach: the annoying best friend. “Who’s this?” The girl asked as Y/N took a seat beside Jisung, Jisung immediately wrapping his arms around her.

“My best friend. You don’t mind if she joins us, right?” Of course the girl agreed, not wanting Jisung to have a bad impression of her, in hopes she could be the girl that changes him.

It only took 10 minutes of the two of them completely ignoring her, talking, and laughing with each other as if she wasn’t even there, for her to leave. “You’re the best.” Jisung said as he usually did. “I’ve missed you.” Her heart no longer fluttered at his words.

“I tried calling, you never picked up.” Jisung’s heart broke at the obvious distance she was putting between them. He knew it was his fault. He was pushing her away, hoping his growing feelings would disappear, but they only seemed to grow stronger. None of these girls seemed to compare to the girl he had right in front of him all this time, and he hates that it took him so long to realize that. He hates that another man noticed it before he did and she slipped through his fingers before he even realized she was leaving.

“I’ll be better, I promise. You’re my best friend, I can’t lose you.” She nodded. From his spot, Hyunjin could tell she wanted to disappear and he decided to give her an out.

“Hey Y/N, you coming to practice today?” She met Hyunjin’s eyes, and the sparkle he was used to seeing seemed to reappear in an instant, causing butterflies to erupt in his stomach.

“Of course!” She exclaimed with her heart-stopping smile, and Hyunjin could see the anger and jealousy bubbling up in Jisung.

“Want to grab something to eat from the diner from last time before practice?” She slung her purse over her shoulder and stood from the table, agreeing with the notion of food.

“You don’t need anything else from me, right Sungie?” The nickname she gave to him in high school rolled off her tongue before she could stop it. Little did she know the effect that simple name had on Jisung.

“Nope, go have fun. I’ll call you later.” Jealously bubbled inside Jisung as he watched her walk away with Hyunjin, his arm draped across her shoulders. He put distance between the two of them, and she seemed to replace him. They used to spend all day together and never get bored; their stomachs aching from all the laughter. Everything seemed to change overnight, and she was really slipping through his fingers.

“Usually Minho is the one to save me.” She joked as her and Hyunjin walked towards the diner the two of them went to the previous week. Ever since that first practice she attended, the two of them grew closer and she seemed to spend more time with him than Minho.

“How do you even know Han Jisung?” Hyunjin asked, the curiosity eating at him. She smiled at the memories of her and Jisung in high school. Back when she thought there was a possibility of her feelings being reciprocated, but when they got to university, Jisung seemed to do a compete 180 and became a different person.

“We met in high school and immediately became best friends. He wasn’t always like this.” Without prompting, she delved into the memories with Jisung. How he used to be really introverted and nervous around girls. How he was the kind of guy to show up at her house in the middle of night because she was sad. How he was the kind of guy to remember all the small details and surprise her with gifts that were absolutely perfect. He knew her better than she knew herself, and that’s why she fell for him. That’s why she bent over backwards for him.

Until Minho came along and showed her she deserved more. She deserved the kind of guy Jisung used to be, the kind of guy Minho is. She deserved someone who looks at her like she put the stars in the sky and was the reason the sun rose in the morning. She deserved someone who could see her radiance, someone who saw passed her outward beauty and saw the beauty she held within. Someone like Minho. Someone like Hyunjin.

Without realizing it, both Minho and Hyunjin fell for her. Without realizing it, she got over her feelings for Jisung, and began to fall for the two handsome men by her side. A love triangle no one expected.

As the 3-month mark inched closer, Minho felt nervous. He fell harder for her than he originally thought possible and didn’t want to let her go. He could already feel her slipping through his fingers as she spent nearly everyday with Hyunjin. The two of them got close seemingly overnight, and Minho could feel himself on the verge of exploding in anger and jealousy every time he saw them together.

She seemed to smile more and laugh louder with Hyunjin than she ever did with him. The man who claimed he didn’t like skin ship, the man who barely hugged his friends, was the same man who seemed to always be touching her in some way. His arm draped across her shoulders, his arms wrapped around her waist, his arm resting on her leg when they sat beside each other. And she didn’t seem to mind. She seemed to revel in the fact that Hyunjin’s attention was solely on her, barely noticing that she’s the only girl Minho has looked at since the party.

The 3-month mark inched closer with each passing second, and she found herself hoping it would never end. Where would her and Minho stand after this? Would he stay by her side or abandon her saying he did what he told her he would?

A part of her wanted to tell Minho she wanted to continue being with him, that she didn’t want to lose everything they built over these last couple months. But another part of her was also falling for Hyunjin. He was nothing like the man that confronted her at the party. He wasn’t the man in the rumours she was always hearing. Hwang Hyunjin was so much more.

She thought getting over Jisung would make her life easier. She could stick by his side and pretend like she never wished for anything more than friendship. She could watch him be a fuckboy and maybe one day fall in love without feeling the hurt in her chest. Little did she know the price of moving on was the confusion of falling for 2 men at the exact same time. But she fell for them for different reasons.

Lee Minho was very driven; completely focused on accomplishing his dreams. She thought he was the most handsome as he came up with new choreography. He was so focused on making it flow together and easy for the other follow along that he would barely notice her make her way into the studio, watching from afar as he moved to the music, completely immersed.

But when he would finally notice her, he would smile at her, his cold exterior completely shattering as he pulls her in for a hug, kissing the top of her head. He would ask for her opinion on his new dance, truly interested in what she thought despite her not being a dancer. Her opinion meant more to him than any others.

She loved watching him lead the dance team, helping them when he noticed them struggling, and beaming when they would nail the new choreography as if he was a proud father. She loved that he wasn’t afraid to show them how much he loved her, regardless of their relationship being fake. He would hold her and kiss her in front of the members and it gave her butterflies every single time.

But when it’s just the two of them and he’s open and vulnerable, that’s what she loves the most. His head in her lap as she plays with his hair while he talks about his dreams and his fears. She listens carefully, hanging onto his every word and reassuring him best she can. Little does she know; her words help him more than he would ever admit.

She fell for him with every kiss, every touch, every late night spent talking. He was only meant to help her get over her feelings for Jisung, and he did more than that without even realizing it.

And then there was Hwang Hyunjin; a man she never thought she would fall for. She didn’t want to be just another girl falling at his feet. She didn’t want to be just another fan standing in the crowd hoping he would look her way even once. But along the way, she couldn’t help but fall for him.

Just like Minho, Hyunjin was quite driven and focused on accomplishing his dreams. Dance was his passion and she could tell he was completely in his element while on the dance floor. He could take any choreography that Minho gave him and nail it almost immediately, looking absolutely ethereal while doing it.

But he was the most handsome behind the camera. Photography was a hobby she found out he had when she brought him along for a photography walk. He was beaming when she met up with him, his own camera around his neck, ready to snap pictures. The way his face would change from smiley to completely focused made her heart flutter in ways Minho couldn’t.

She felt comfortable with Hyunjin, able to open up to him about things she couldn’t even tell Jisung. Hyunjin was at her door anytime if she called. He was there to take her for late night drives when she just needed to think with no distractions. He would play her favourite songs and only speak when she pulled herself out of her thoughts.

Hyunjin was her personal hype man, getting excited even over little victories. When she aced her photography exam, he took her out to celebrate. When her assignment was chosen to compete for the school in the photography competition, his cheers were the loudest. When that same assignment won first place, shocking her into silence, he was the one pushing her towards the stage to accept her award, cheering and clapping even though everyone else was silent.

She fell for him during the silent drives when her head felt like it was about to explode, during the photography walks where she would catch him taking pictures of her instead of the scenery.

Minho gave her butterflies and made her realize she deserved so much more than Jisung was giving her. And Hyunjin made her feel calm and was by her side hyping her up for absolutely everything. They made her feel different things, and that’s why it felt near impossible to choose, but she knew she had to. But there was one thing she didn’t think of; did they even return her feelings?

“What do you do when you fall for 2 people at the same time?” She wondered out loud, Jisung sprawled out on her couch. He stared at her, studying the exhaustion on her face, this question obviously keeping her from sleeping properly.

He kept his promise of doing better, of being a better friend to her. He was tired of the distance between them, and even if she would never return his growing feelings, he wanted his best friend back. “You choose the one that makes you the happiest.” He answered simply before tossing another piece of popcorn in his mouth. “Choose the one you want to call when you get good news, and when you get bad news.” He continued, and the gears in her head were working double time. “Choose the one you feel most comfortable with, the one who makes you excited for the days ahead. Choose the one that all the love songs in the world seem to be about. The one you can see yourself dancing in the rain with. The one you can scream at during a petty argument, but in the same breath say you love them.” Jisung continued to name things and he did he realized he had always been in love with her.

She was the one he wanted to wake up to in the morning, kissing her before getting ready for the day. She was the one he always called when something happened, good or bad, and she was always there. The meaningless, cheesy love songs seemed to all be about her. He was immediately drawn to her in high school because she was his soulmate. But as he watched her ponder his words, he realized that he wasn’t hers. There was another man out there better than he ever could be. Another man that would make her happier than he ever could. And though he could feel his heart break, he would support her love if it brought back her earth-shatteringly beautiful smile.

One name came to mind for her when she thought over all of Jisung’s words. The man that came to mind when a love song played. The man that she wanted to share everything with; all the good news and the bad news. There was only one man she didn’t want to watch fall in love with someone else. And before she could chicken out, she ran out of her apartment, leaving Jisung on her couch, watching her run towards the love of her life.

       She knew exactly where to find him even at this late hour. She ran through the confusing maze of dance studios, determined to hold onto Lee Minho for as long as he will let her. She barged into the familiar dance studio; the same one she’s been going to almost every day to watch her fake boyfriend lead the dance team to success. But was the relationship ever fake?

Minho stopped mid routine when he heard the door slam open, confused as to who would bother him at such a late hour, especially with finals just around the corner. But when he saw her face, he didn’t care. He didn’t care that he couldn’t nail this one move that would complete his routine.

“I don’t want to break up.” She spat out from the other side of the room, her voice echoing around them. “I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and not be able to kiss you. I don’t want to watch you fall in love with someone who isn’t me.” She kept rambling, wanting all of her thoughts out in the open. She didn’t even notice him walking towards her with the same amount of determination on his face.

He didn’t let her finish her ramblings before pressing his lips to hers like had done many times before, but this time neither one of them held back. This kiss was filled with so much more passion and love than all the others in the past. This was the kind of kiss that took your breath away and had you begging for more. “Silly girl.” He smiled as he pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers. “There is no other girl for me. It was always going to be you.” She pressed her lips to his once more, the words I love you on the tip of her tongue, but they didn’t need to be said out loud for him to hear them. He heard them loud and clear.

[sinner-as-saint]

Can’t Stay Away From Me.

Cherry!Seb (mob!seb) x Stripper!reader. 

What is ‘cherry!seb’? Basically just mob!seb but like, daddy-er. (click on the tag for more)

Run-through: You've known the mob boss for a while now. He’s a regular at your club, and you are his personal favorite, everybody knew that you were his girl. You two have definitely broken the ‘no sex on premises’ rule many, many times. And although he called you his, you two were never officially a thing. So when he mysteriously doesn’t show up at the club for weeks, you decide to just put the hurt aside and move on. But the mob boss comes back from the dead just in time. And he doesn’t like what he sees. So he reminds you that you belong to him. Just him. 

Themes: smut, stripper!reader, angst, dirty talk, slight daddy kink, swear words, fluff

a/n: I wrote a hc quite similar to this last year or something, I read it recently and thought why not turn it into a fic since many of you have been missing Cherry!Seb lately. Enjoy!

You stared at yourself in the mirror of the dimly lit locker room. You were alone in there, all the girls had stepped out already. You gently touched the diamond choker you always wore and adored, your fingertips grazing his name upon it. 

His name. His choker. His girl. Everybody knew that. You were his girl so you had certain privileges that the other girls didn’t have. But you never took advantage of the power you had, mainly because you had fun with your job, but also because most nights over the past many months, you spent with him. And you loved every single moment. 

You sighed for the fifth time as you stared into the mirror. Tonight marked a little over three weeks since Seb last showed up at the club. You had no idea where he was, what he was doing, who he was with. And it hurt, bad. 

At first you were worried about his whereabouts, then by the second week you were annoyed and now all you had energy for was anger. Clearly he didn’t care, perhaps he was out there having the time of his life with other women and here you were sulking over his mysterious departure. 

Over the past weeks, you gained quite some new clients. Some new regulars as well. You did some champagne rooms, and earned decently well. But you didn’t make as much money as you made with Seb. 

You decided to stop acting like an overly obedient pet waiting for its master. You had to work and earn, like you did before him. 

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror and then went on to take the choker off. It would be humiliating to be proud of being his girl and wear his name on your neck while he was out doing God knows what. 

You tossed the choker onto the dresser with a heavy heart and walked out of the locker room, deciding to just be yourself tonight; the same beautiful, confident woman you were before meeting him all those months ago. He hadn’t been back in weeks, who knows perhaps he might never come back here. 

When you walked out, you noticed all the eyes on you. You looked good and you knew it. You sent some smiles around, some winks, a couple of flirty lines and by the time you made it to one of your regular clients, you had already earned some money bills. 

Your client tonight was an older gentleman. He was not like the typical, lousy businessmen who came by your club often. But he was very giving. The moment you settled on his lap he tucked a bundle of cash into the waistband of your thong, that alone earned him a lap dance to a sensual song. Besides, you were feeling yourself tonight so you were extra good today. 

You were carefree. You felt confident, and beautiful and sexy and you could feel all the eyes on you tonight. You danced like there’s no tomorrow. Your client was so satisfied he even put his golden chain on you at some point. You felt spoilt, so you gave him your best obviously. 

Amongst all those stares you got, one of them burned the most. You could feel the vibe around you change. You discreetly scanned the room and met with a pair of eyes you least expected. Stormy, ocean blue ones which made you tremble in both fear and hunger. 

Surrounded by his loyal guards, he stood there looking like a god; expensive, dark suit, the button of his shirt carelessly undone - he looked delectable - gawking, unable to believe that his precious babygirl dared to sit on another man’s lap. He was furious, and you could tell by the way he was shooting glares at you. 

Guess you didn’t expect him to just pop out of nowhere. But you didn’t let his presence ruin your mood right away. You maintained eye contact with him as you moved salaciously across the man’s lap. Biting your lip and being as inappropriate as you could; breaking all of Seb’s rules. 

He noticed it all. How you weren’t wearing his collar, how your dark red outfit was ridiculously revealing, how your body moved just to torment him, how you captured everyone’s attention. The more he looked at you, the angrier he got. 

You held his stare, daring and confidently. He decided not to cause a scene at your workplace so he simply pointed towards the corridor which led to the champagne rooms and walked off in that direction, expecting you to follow immediately. 

You could do so. You could drop everything and run to him because you missed him so much. But you purposely didn’t. He had made you wait over three weeks, he could wait some more minutes you thought. 

Meanwhile Seb was fuming inside the room. How dare you? Most of all, how dare that guy touch you like that? He couldn’t wait to have that talk with you and remind you that you belong to him and only him, because it seemed that you had forgotten. 

After finishing up your dance, you took your time and gracefully moved away from the man. You didn’t take off the golden chain, you didn’t take out the bundle of cash tucked into your thong either; you walked into the champagne room just like you left the man earlier - a little flushed. 

You knew which room he was in since his guards stood outside the door. They let you in and judging by their faces you could tell that their boss was in a bad mood. And you intended on making it worse. 

“Have you lost your way? Are you sure you’re in the right place?” You sassed, upon walking in. You took in his appearance for a moment or two and realized just how much you had missed him.  

Seb sat on the dark red couch, manspreading like it was his throne; quietly sipping on his liquor while his piercing eyes shamelessly roamed your body. The ridiculously bright neon signs behind him were the only things illuminating the room, buzzing slightly. Seb took his time and studied you; torn between loving and hating what he was seeing. 

Your lingerie drove him insane. Your excuse of a see-through cover up did too. Your slightly smudged dark lipstick made him want to ruin it even more, but the thought of where your lips had been were making him even angrier. 

He hated the sight of the golden chain around your neck, replacing the very expensive diamond collar he had given you a while ago; with his last name on it. That was a gift you were meant to wear all the time; to remind you and everyone else that you belonged to him. The mob boss was very possessive when it came to you, and now here you were, disrespecting him. 

But the thing he hated the most, was the bundle of cash tucked into the waistband of your underwear. And he knew that you were purposely showing it off. 

You caught the way his jaw clenched as his eyes roamed your body. He was thinking, plotting. You felt hot under his gaze. You had always loved the way he looked at you, like he owned you. He looked at you the same way, but right now he was pissed off as well.  

Seb had missed you. He even hurried his way back, eager to find you and have you on his lap while he finally touched you and told you all about the time he’d been gone. But instead, he returned to find that his girl had defied him. He felt betrayed. 

“Come here.” He simply said, authority dripping from his words. You could tell he was annoyed and troubled by what he saw out there but he had brought this upon himself. You stayed put despite his very clear order. You didn’t move a muscle. He sighed and rolled his eyes before staring deep into your soul again. “Babygirl,” he sounded threatening, “I said, come here.” He pointed to his lap. 

You approached him, knowing he would be a pain in the ass after all that he saw. But you knew he’d eventually give in because he had said it himself, he can’t stay away from you for too long. Neither could you honestly, and that was why him being gone for so long hurt so bad. 

Seb watched you as you slowly walked over to him, and before you even came to a full stop in front of him, he reached out and pulled you into his lap; gripping your jaw to make sure he had your full attention. 

“Get your fucking hands off me!” you slapped his hand away, surprising both you and him. You had never acted this way before. Usually you craved his touch. You did even now, but right now you were angry at him too. 

Seb growled as he pulled you closer and placed his hand back to your face, gripping your jaw harder this time and it hurt just a little but nothing compared to how you had felt this whole time he’s been gone. 

“Why are you being such a brat, huh? And what the fuck do you think you were doing just now, outside?” He asked, using the same tone he used when dealing with his rivals. Just a tone of pure anger and annoyance. 

Normally he was sweet and gentle with you, so this was new for you. But you wouldn’t give in so easily. You scoffed. “My fucking job is what I was doing! Now go get fucked somewhere else! I’m not your little toy!” You were mad too, and your anger camouflaged the hurt. 

You tried to get off his lap but he wouldn’t let you move. His grip on you was firm and strong. 

“Watch that tone with me, babygirl.” He threatened. This was the second time you had been entirely disrespectful while talking to him tonight. Seb was so close to losing his cool. 

“Or what?” Just two very bratty words from you was enough to make him lose his mind, and his calm and composure. 

Within a second he flipped the two of you and he had you pinned down on the couch beneath him. He held you by the neck gently, wrapping his long finger around your throat and applying the slightest bit of pressure which made you gasp softly. 

“You will not disrespect me like that. You know I don’t tolerate it.” He reminded you of his inability to put up with disobedience. 

You chuckled, mocking him. “And what are you gonna do about it? I have nothing to lose, Seb. I’m just a toy for you to play with, just a whore, or just an easy fuck on most days, aren’t I?” You sounded as though you were questioning his power, insulting him and hurting him at the same time. 

How dare you say that? How dare you assume that you were nothing but those things to him? You meant so much more to him, and you had no idea. Of all the people in his life, you were the only one who didn’t spend time with him out of fear. You were the only thing which he looked forward to almost each day. 

The mob boss was not good at being affectionate, so he thought that perhaps showering you with gifts and money would convey how much you meant to him. But apparently not, because you still dared to say such things right to his face. And upon hearing those things, something in him flipped like a switch. 

You saw it in his eyes; wild, and determined. 

“Just a whore, huh? Well, let me show you how I treat one,” he whispered before going absolutely feral. 

He tore off your lingerie in less than a few seconds. And you let him. You were mad, but you had missed him too and the truth is you’d take whatever he’d give you. He was mean, and dangerous and unpredictable but you loved him. Oh you loved him, and his cold heart and his dark soul. 

While he tore your clothes off your body, your shaky hands tugged at his suit and his shirt too. You could feel his hunger, and him yours. He wanted nothing more than to just be slow, and loving and love you and tell you just how much he missed you. But before all that, he needed to teach you a lesson. 

“I was stupid to even give you any attention.” He kissed his way down your naked body, kissing and nibbling on your skin as he went. “Should’ve left you out there, to be used like a little whore.” He mumbled, growling under his breath through clenched teeth while he parted your legs and settled in between them. 

Your breaths were short and fast as you looked up at him towering you. You had missed the sight of him above you, all big and strong. In less than a minute, he had his erected cock out in his hand. And the sight of him stroking it ever so gently made you whimper in need. 

“I was stupid to even put you on a fucking pedestal, and call you mine. I leave for some time and you get back down to where you truly belong. Guess whores never learn, huh?” He was quick to push himself in you, not even bothering about your whimpers and moans. 

You dripping wet core gripped around him immediately. Your body arched off the surface of the couch as you gasped and moaned. He supported himself above you and smirked as he saw your face morph into a frown. 

“Nothing...” he pulled out and pushed back into you again, “...but a fucking toy for me.” He repeated your words back at you as he sped up and pounded into you, making you moan wantonly in pleasure. He knew his words were a little harsh, but he wanted you to feel how he felt when he walked in to find you on someone else’s lap. 

You whimpered at how good he felt. He quickened his pace. He was relentless. 

“Guess you’ll do anything for money, huh?” His hand came down to grab you by the jaw again, forcing you to open your eyes and look into his deep, blue ones. “Tell me, did he fuck you like this as well? Did he touch you like daddy does? Did you let him?” He asked as he merciless pounded into you. 

You could only moan in response, and he got the answer he needed. He knew your body, and judging by the way you moved and squirmed under him and the sounds you made, he could tell no one had touched you since he’s been gone.  

“All fucking mine,” he growled as he let go of your face, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. He grabbed the golden you wore and yanked it off you, throwing it somewhere on the ground behind him. 

You moaned out loud, struggling to keep your eyes open as it started to water. But the moment your eyes started to close, you felt a gentle smack on your cheek. 

“Look at me,” he leaned down to bite your mouth, “What is it? You can’t take daddy’s cock?” He taunted. “But isn’t that what whores do? Hmm?” he growled, “Shut up and take it then, take all of me. What else is a whore good for, huh?” He moaned and growled right against your mouth, clenching his teeth or occasionally biting down on your lip as he pounded into you relentlessly.

You moaned as he fucked deeper into you. You whimpered at the intensity of his thrust, and he kept going. You cried out as the pressure built up nicely in between your legs. Seb moaned at how your walls gripped his cock and milked it. 

You felt him too; deep inside you, touching you everywhere you wanted him too. You felt your tears fall down your cheeks. You were close...so close…

“Please… please daddy...” you whined, begging pathetically and unable to arrange your words or your thoughts any better. “Please…”

Finally, your body betrayed you and you came all over his cock without any warning. You squirmed and moaned incessantly as the pleasure washed over you. Seb didn’t slow down, he kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came. 

You whimpered at how he kept slamming into you even after you came, and your face burned as you felt the knot forming again right at your core. He fucked you relentlessly; not even stopping for a second. He panted and groaned at how good you felt around him; wet and warm all for him. Your walls clenched around him violently and your body arched off the couch. You felt your second release approaching while you recovered from the first one. 

“Look at me,” he mumbled as he noticed your eyes were closing. You fought the need to shut your eyes and stared into his blue ones. “You’re mine. My little whore,” he growled as he sped up, “My girl,” he let out a grunt, “Mine. You hear me?” 

You nodded. Your body trembled as you came again; gushing out around his cock while he still pounded relentlessly into you as he felt your walls clench around him, milking him perfectly and triggering his orgasm. 

Seb came right after you did; groaning and swearing under his breath. He pulled his cock out of you and looked down at the lovely mess you were; his cum dripping out of you. He gently reached down to touch your sensitive and throbbing core, it was wet everywhere. 

He didn’t hesitate before shoving two fingers inside you again. “Just gonna finger my cum back into your greedy cunt. And you’re gonna let me, won't you? You little slut…” he whispered. You moaned at how sensitive you were; you’re body shuddering under him. “You’ll take whatever I give you, huh?” he whispered before he leaned down to kiss your open mouth again. His tongue invaded your mouth like he owned it while he fingered you. 

You were a mess as he fingered you faster, and faster until you came all over his fingers again. You could barely keep your eyes open as Seb pulled your naked body onto his lap. You had missed his warmth so you instinctively clinged to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pushing your face into his neck.

You didn’t mean to cry, but you couldn’t help it. Everything was too much, you felt overwhelmed. Seb’s heart broke at the sound of your quiet sobs. He had been rough, more  than usual, and quite mean too… He was aware of that. 

He stroked your bare back gently, tightening his arms around you. “Are you okay, babygirl?” He asked. You didn’t answer. “Baby?” he whispered again, softly. You didn’t respond, instead you sniffled again as you tried your hardest to fight back your tears but they fell anyways. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” He spoke again, his voice a stark contrast to what it was just a minute ago. He was gentle now, soft. He was apologizing for everything. 

“You left me.” You finally spoke, voice strained and tired. You sobbed softly, still holding him tightly, “You’re so mean.” 

His heart broke a little more. Once he was done with you, you could’ve easily left and asked him to never show his face around here again, but you didn’t. You needed him as much as he needed you. You stayed because you had no one else, and you needed to be held and taken care of.

“I’m sorry baby. I’ve been away for a long time. I know.” He apologized.

You sniffled again. “Still. You were so mean.” You spoke, pulling away to look at him with tears in your eyes.

He wiped your tears away and pulled you into him. “I lost my mind when I saw you with that guy. You’re mine and you know that. But you still let someone else put their dirty hands on you. How could you, baby?” He was calmer now. 

“I didn’t wanna do it.” you said, pulling away from him to look into his eyes. His eyes were soft and deep; it only reminded you of how much you loved him. 

He was confused by your words. “Do what?” he asked, gently running his hands up and down your sides lovingly. 

You wiped some more tears away and took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to perform for anyone else. But I was running out of money, and the rent was due.” You finally confessed. 

“You could’ve just told me that, baby.” he said, sounding more caring than you wanted him to.

You almost chuckled. “You weren’t here. You were gone for weeks, Seb. Besides, that’s my problem, not yours.” You made it clear. But he didn’t like that.

He reached out to grab your face, making sure he has your undivided attention. “You are mine. All your troubles are mine, okay? You don’t have to worry about a thing from now on. I’ll take care of you, and everything else. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. But please forgive me. I never wanted to hurt you.” 

Of course you’d forgive him. But just for the hell of it, you said, “No.” and avoided his eyes. Seb sighed, knowing you’d come around eventually. He had you back now and that was all that mattered. 

He took his suit jacket and put it around you to shelter you from the cold air. “You don’t have to worry, you’re never gonna work in this club again.”

You knew that possessive, slightly arrogant tone of his, and it only entailed surprises. “What do you mean?” You questioned further

“I’m buying it. You can run it.” He spoke as if it were nothing at all. He had been thinking about this for a while now. 

You were shocked. “Seb, what-”

He cut you off, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead. “You heard what I said, baby.” He mumbled against your skin. 

“Why?” You questioned, looking down at how you straddled his lap. 

“Because I want you all to myself. I want you to be with me.”

You scoffed. “This is how you ask girls out?”

He looked at you and smiled. “Not girls, just you.” He caressed your tear stained cheek lazily. His heart fluttered as he looked at you, he loved you so much. He could find better ways to show it though. 

After talking about it, after he constantly apologized for his previous behavior and a few playful banters later, he got up and offered you his hand to take. 

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“Home.” he replied.

“Your home?”

“Our home.” he corrected you. “You’re coming to live with me. I’ve been far from you for too long and I’m done hiding what I feel for you.” You began to say something but he spoke up again before you could say a word. “And I won’t take no for an answer.” 

You smirked. “Why? Haven’t you had your fill just now?” you teased. 

“I have.” He answered as you took his hand and stood up. “But every king needs his queen by his side. And I need you. I’ll keep you safe and happy, and I’ll love you. Forever.”

You gave him a teary smile. “You never told me what suddenly brought you back after three weeks.”

He smiled and pressed his lips against yours, whispering, “You know I can’t stay away from you, babygirl.”